The McCarty Metro
August 2004 Edition




Jerry's World

Hurricane Charley

Australian Photo Log

September Calendar

DMGC Wrap Up

Peanut & Jocko


September Quiz

The Booger Worm

Final Thought

Chat Room



By field reporter Steve-O

Now I know why Spirit has round trip airfare to Ft. Myers for $130. We left on Wednesday evening an arrived in Florida around 10pm. Thursday was a beautiful day. Even Friday morning the 13th was nice…until about noon. That is when Hurricane Charlie showed up. It was pretty bad. Kristen and Megan went to take cover twice in our master bedroom closet. Our place was fine, no damage at all. However we lost electricity and water. There were a ton of trees down, all signs were blown over or out, all power lines were laying on the ground. The devastation was wide spread – but we were fine.

We survived Level Four Hurricane Charlie. But we almost did not survive the flight home. We were seated in 10D, 10E, and 10F. Some old fossil in 15F must have shit himself on the takeoff. I will call him Diarrhea-cane Charlie. When it hit me, it was too late to move to shelter. I let out a sigh and I believe I briefly lost conscience. Since I had spent several days in Florida tracking Hurricanes, I quickly began to map the smell of ass as it moved from the rear of the cabin to the front. I turned around and saw the path of people adjusting their air vents. From 15F the eye of the ass hit 14F and 13E. It was lowered to a Level 3 Fart and continued to 12E, 11D and hit me at 10D. Fortunately I was able to give the folks in 9C adequate warning before it crossed the aisle. They were spared. Once again the devastation was wide spread as passengers lost appetites and that seat has to be retired.

I recovered and then about an hour into the flight Megan needed me to take her to the bathroom. She was afraid of being sucked out, so I had to squeeze into that phone booth with her. This room apparently was the landing spot for Diarrhea-cane Charlie’s deed. After briefly loosing conscience again, I laid down the sanitary piece of wax paper for Megan to sit on. After a brief tussle, she refused to sit on it and I had to remove it. When I did, my left middle finger penetrated an infinitesimal puddle of some substance next to the crapper seat. Water, spooge, poop, pee splash, hemorrhoid ointment – I have no idea. I lunged backward against the bifold door while gagging profusely. These doors must have been reinforced after 9/11 as well. I found the sole air vent above the mini mirror and tried to regain composure. Meanwhile Megan, pants down, was now afraid to sit on the raw seat. I convinced her to stand on the box and take a long shot down. Now I know why that room is such a mess, but…we were fine. 

Spirit – The tube with recycled shit air and standing room only bathrooms. But for $130 round trip, how can you go wrong?




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