A Gmail sent at 6:19PM last night from my Blackberry to a friend...

The passenger next to me in 4A is an odd sort of fellow. I assume he must have some mental defect since he evidently felt it was a good idea to BATHE in Old Spice. I shiat you not. The pungent odor of his fat guy sweat and Old Spice is making my eyes burn. I swear to f*cking God in Heaven, this man is wearing so much Old Spice, he has created his own multi-layered atmosphere. There literally is a cloud of sweat-moisture droplets and cologne clouds surrounding his body. I could consume fourteen different kinds of beans, eat a 64 ounce steak, and top it off with a bran muffin, and the resulting sh*tstorm of wet farts wouldn't even dent the odor caused by this man's spicy ozone of cologne. Tell me why a man would knowingly leave his house while smelling like this? Jesus Christ this is bad. This is going to be the longest flight of my life. The people on United 93 had it easy compared to this hell. I doubt I will survive three hours of his stench. If I die from some sort of fat guy stink poisoning, please know that I've always admired your intellect, boobs, and really hoped to have sex with you before I died.

Even though I'm pretty sure I blacked out a few times, I survived the flight.

Guys, remember, if you're going to wear cologne, it should only be enough that a woman can smell it when her nose is a few centimeters from your neck. Anything more is just stink.

Oh, and if you use that Axe body spray sh*t, please kill yourself. Really. Right now. Jump off a building.

That is all.