Russell's Blog

I have decided that air travel must be the worst thing for which people will pay money to have happen to them. I'm going to have to sit through a transatlantic flight, in a state of appallingly keen consciousness, with no work to do and nothing to read except my passport visas and the in-flight magazine.

In a stroke of magnificent glorious wonderfulness that has so typified this trip, I had to buy a big hard-sided suitcase so that there might be some hope my laptop and camera might return to me in more or less working condition. The guy at the luggage store spent no less than ten minutes explaining to me the great quality of this suitcase over the others. He told me of its great reputation among world travelers. He told me of the tradition of craftsmanship that lead to its creation. He told me of the proud heritage of its manufacturer, a good solid British company.

So, I bought it. It cost fifty pounds. As soon as I put something in it, the goddamn handle riped off.

Well, that fits well into the common assessment of British engineering and manufacturing: Overpriced and shoddy. I think I might prefer to rub dog shit into my hair than go to Gatwick on Sunday.