With baby pretzels.
Does anyone mourn the loss to pretzeldom that occurs when these baby pretzels are aborted, salted, packaged, and served on planes for my snacking pleasure? I didn't think so.
And then there's my ubiquitous mater juice.
It'd be a lot better if they'd serve sliced maters with some wheat bread slathered with Duke's Mayonnaise, but that might be a touch too civilized for American flights.
Also notice my overt continued gooderness. Not one bottle of distilled Carribean sunshine to be found, much less seen.
You just gotta wonder how much longer that can last.
-- text tapped from a virtual keyboard.
Location:Cargo Rd,Cleveland,United States