Flying the Potty-Mouthed Skies

A children's book author was thrown off a flight when he began swearing about a delay, using the f-word.               

                                                                                News item.

“Uh-oh—Mr. Writer Man said a swear!”

You know, people think being the best-selling author of the Pokey Little Bunny™ series of children's books is nothing but cream-filled cupcakes, but they're wrong.  There's a lot of stress—I fly all over the country going to “story hours” in library basements where I have to somehow sit on a chair made for a five-year-old's butt and read to all the little snot-nosed brats with their adorable upturned faces.  You can hardly blame me if I order two gin ‘n tonics as soon as I plop down in my f--kin' coach class seat that my CHEAPSKATE PUBLISHER won't let me upgrade on a twenty-four hour turnaround to the coast.  

” . . . and then the [bleepin'] bunny hopped over to Kitzi Witzi's house for a quick one.”

[BLEEP] him!  And [BLEEP] my [BLEEPIN'] agent too, for getting me to sign a five-book contract right before Pokey Little Bunny hit it big, making The New York Times Top Ten Treacly Kids Book List—with no royalties!  Yes I was advised by counsel, my brother-in-law the unemployed lawyer—[BLEEP] him too!

“You kick my seat again, I'm going to stuff Pokey Little Bunny™ down your [BLEEPIN'] throat!”

At least I've got my groupie—little 12-year-old Amanda Cynthia Henderson, who's been a fan of mine since she mastered “See Spot run!”  I mean, there's nothing wrong with that, is there?  Salman Rushdie didn't attract any babes until they pronounced a fatwa on him.  Me—I went about it totally legal—adopted Amanda and everything, just like rock star Steven Tyler did when he wanted to date a toddler—I mean a teen.  She's so precious!

Worth a fatwa.

I help her put her tray down so she can snort a couple lines of Lik-m-Aid before take-off.  It helps calm her down—that and the Pokey Little Bunny™ of course!

Goddamn it to hell, Amanda!  What did you [BLEEPIN'] have to sneeze for!  Now I've got pink and purple snot all over the Brooks Brothers cable knit cardigan sweater I so deliberately picked out in order to look informal and casual—it helps give me that Mr. Rogers vibe that drives kids wild.

What the well-dressed young children's book author is wearing.

Where's the stewardess.  Where is the [BLEEPIN'] STEWARDESS?  Oh, right, Amanda—ring the little bell and she'll come.  Okay—here we go.

Excuse me—excuse me?  EXCUSE ME—HEY!  Who do I have to screw to get my [BLEEPIN'] gin and tonics like I asked for?  You heard me—I said who do I have to . . .

Hey—no fair!  You Transportation Security Guards are supposed to wear uniforms or something, aren't you?  Let go of me!  You're not . . . you wouldn't . . . you're not gonna—

Please—NOT an atomic wedgie!