Baggedmilk Comes Home, Welcome Me!

After 20,000km, four flight changes, many hours of layovers, and five bag inspections, I'm finally home. Let me tell you this people, it was emotional. Never have I been so bored, tired, annoyed and plainly pissed off in a matter of thirty-six hours.

Firstly, I have to say, I'm a pussy Canadian because I'm freezing my ass off. I know it's not cold, in terms of Edmonton, but I've been in Asia for the past nine months. I'm going to complain, and not stop complaining. The flights were long, United Airlines has zero attractive flight attendants, and the food was terrible. Thank, God, for Valium.

My flight out of Bangkok was at 6:30am, and that's a shit time to have an international flight. Even worse is the competency of the United Airlines flight staff at the check in booth in Bangkok. What normally takes an hour, at most, took over two hours. Thankfully, my cab driver got me to the airport in record time, because in his words, "[he] could drive Ferrari."

After the shitty ordeal of checking into my flight, my bag was searched for the first time. Actually, the people in Bangkok really could have cared less, and I could have smuggled six kilos of Coke in my carry on. So off I went, on my six hour flight to Tokyo. In flight meal, scrabbled eggs, and I didn't touch it, because the brown faggot that served up the meal was sneezing everywhere. I didn't want his curry, snot blast touching anything, let alone my food. I let him know it too.

In Tokyo, it was more of the same. Boring layovers and more bag searching. This time, though, the Japs were going through everything. What they didn't find? My Valium. Thankfully, because I had loads of it. Nothing shortens a flight like popping a few of those bad boys. First thing on the flight, pop four vallies, and I'm clinically dead for the eight hour flight. It was brilliant. In flight meal? Who the fuck knows, I wasn't waking up.

From Tokyo, it was off to San Francisco, and once again my bags get searched. The problem, is that, this time I only have an hour to get pick up my bag, and get to my next gate for Denver. Naturally, my bag gets searched again, and this little Chinese guy goes through every shirt that I bought, and asks what I was doing in Asia. It goes on forever, and then my lazy ass has to go sprinting through the airport to get to my gate. Because of the bag search, I got my name called for last call for boarding, I was more than annoyed.

Nothing to talk about in Denver other than the fact that I wasn't even supposed to fly there, (check in for my flight, and they tell me I have an extra leg and four hour layover in Denver instead of coming straight home from San Fran) but I did appreciate the amount of fat fucking humans that live there. Jesus Christ, I haven't seen that many fat people in a long time, it was clear that I was back in the USA. Aside from laughing at fatties, the only thing I DO want to discuss about Denver, is the burrito I had. Fuck me, this was the best burrito I've had since actually being in Mexico. Sergio sure knew how to wrap some spicy chicken in a tortilla, that's for sure.

Finally, I was back at Edmonton International. Once again, my bag was searched, but this time the guy actually found the hidden compartment in my bag that had all my Valium. Best part is, that I convinced him I had a prescription, but forgot it, and he let me go without issue. "No, I definitely didn't buy it in Cambodia, that would be silly. No sir, I did not engage in drug use while travelling either." What was really annoying, was spending forty minutes looking through every single picture I took to make sure I didn't fuck any eight year olds in Asia.

Landing in Edmonton was a shock. Spending the past nine months and change in a tropical climate really fucked me over when I got here. When I walked out of the airport I almost died, and even when I got home, I had to put another hoodie on. It was ridiculous. Even more ridiculous, assholes calling me at 9:00am this morning to see if I wanted to hang out. No, I don't, I'm jet lagged and still tweaking of the many milligrams of Valium that I've ingested over the past thirty-six hours.

It's ridiculous to be home after so long, but nothing says "Welcome Home" like watching some puck on TSN and drinking a double double, which I'm doing right now. Regardless, it's shit to be home and actually have to look for a job. Needless to say, I'm home now, and what that means is that I'll be working on a trip recap and posting some pictures. I'll also get some video up here, when I'm not to busy looking at porn and lazing around in my own filth.

What does it mean for you? A few things. More of my mindless ramblings, Travis' confusion as to who's posting on the Twitter account, PETA hatred, more content, and the vulgarity level will be right back up to par with where it should be. Where have all the tits been lately anyway?

In closing, Edmonton weather is shit, I'm going to the Oilers game tomorrow so I'll be posting live from the game, and I still hate Jeanshorts. Welcome me back with open arms, people, and donate any money you can, so that I can stay head down, covered with crumbs.

-baggedmilk