Dear Airplane,
I love this arraignment that we’ve all agreed upon.
YOU somehow achieve significant aerodynamic lift; enough to propel us through the sky, from point A to point B, and I sit in my chair in the sky, eating the peanuts, holding the belief that all of that scientific shit is true.
Come on.
Can we cut the crap?
Clearly, air travel is some crazy magic or a freaking miracle.
The sheer accumulated weight of all the passengers and our consistently overweight luggage (I can only speak for myself)
render all that science shit impossible.
Really.
Airplanes work because we all believe they do.
Amen.
*This is for all my friends that are on planes this weekend đŸ˜‰
Happy Saturday.
Sending miracle Inducing Love,
Xox
