Riding High

Back again, having shaken the scary internet stalker lady. It seemed to be too rare an opportunity to miss; writing a blog at 12000 feet. Racing along at 900 miles/hr (or something equally impressive), I found myself able to access the net! Seeing as it clearly won't be thrilling to anyone other than me, I'll keep this brief. Car commercial. The brief was "Willem Dafoe". Got cast. Off to Europe. Business class. Ah, the luxury. After a delicate crab salad, venison, chocolate fudge cake and a glass of Graham Beck's Cabernet (fine South African wine), the night is progressing splendidly. All I can hear is the hum of the engines and the occasional whirr of no- not choppers or sweepers, but electric seats adjusting into beds.

This is the way humans were meant to travel. Heck, business class is nicer than my apartment. I've got personal aircon, a fine LCD TV with movies on demand, 24hr service - what more could anyone want? Maybe I'll stay. I'll conduct all my "business" (which is..?) from the air. Yes, I like this idea. Only touching down to refill. The daring, global, high-flying... what? What would I be? I don't have an internet business! I'M the business. I'm an actor, for crying out loud and no-one wants a performance up here. They want some peace and quiet. Besides, the aisles are too narrow for my kind of show. Ah well, another life, perhaps. I should probably get some sleep now - they'll be waking us in an hour or two. Can't switch off just yet. I just want to soak it all up, you know? Before it's all gone. And I'm back in economy. Ughh. Economy... What an ugly word. I feel a rush of nausea coming on. I may need to barf in my business class paper bag...