Stinky seatmates

Things in this world that are worse than most other things, Kimberly's list: not picking up your dog's poop when out on a walk; rudeness to waitstaff; people washing windshields on the highway; shoppers leaving books out of alphabetical order on the Barnes & Noble shelves. Of course, the worst of all these things is the stinky seatmate on an airplane. Why is it that the last couple times I've flown somewhere, I've been stuck in my comfortable window seat with a large, smelly guy next to me, wheezing his bad breath all over me, and leaning into my space so he can see out the window? Here's my thing, Mr. Pitstains; if you want to look out the window, get a window seat. I get my window seat early enough, and so should you. And buy some Altoids for goodness sakes! Don't you know how bad your odor is? Thus went my flight today. Hours in my window seat, being imposed on by the stinky seatmate.

Here's a pretty picture of some Orcas (a mother and new baby born at Sea World-San Diego). I read the other day that the Orcas in Puget Sound were going to be put on the Endangered Species list. Their dwindling numbers are a shame. I've always loved the Orca, even in that movie with Richard Harris and Bo Derek, where the whale kills all those people. They're so beautiful and majestic, and like the penguin, always attired properly for a formal event.