Quotes & Jokes about Airports / page 2
I'm one of those passengers who arrives at the airport five or six hours early so I can throw back a few drinks and muster up the courage to board the plane. Apparently I'm not alone because I've never been in an empty airport bar. I don't care what time you get there. Even at 8:00 a.m. you have to fight your way to the bar. At that hour, everyone drinks Bloody Marys so no one can tell it's booze- at least until they fall off their chair.
I'm still trying to understand the wearing off high heels at the airport.
They make that announcement, 'If you notice anything unusual, please immediately report it to airport security.' So, I grab the guy, I go, 'Yeah, I just saw somebody pay $11 for a cup of coffee at Starbucks. And right around the corner, they're selling luggage inside the airport. I'm going to do another lap. I'll let you know if I see anything.'
Oh my God, Kennedy Airport - what a mess - all over you with those dopey security questions. 'Did you receive any gifts from any unknown persons?' Buddy, the last thing I got from an unknown person was in the 80's.
I do have to fly a lot. It's difficult for me, but I'm not angry about it. But I did see on the menu in Logan Airport, Boston, “Potato salad in season.”
What is with this campy fixation on all things Ronald Reagan? They talk about him the way gay people talk about Barbra Streisand. I think they just want him on a stamp so they can lick his ass. I think they only named an airport after him so they can say, "I'm coming into Reagan!"
All these years I've sat in airports and kind of drawn people and put like Far Side captions on them.
The government scares me. They're taking my picture at the stop sign. They're looking through my shoes at the airport. They're worried about gay people getting married, locking up potheads, having congressional investigations because of Janet Jackson's tit. You're better off committing murder or rape because those things you can get away with.
I've come here tonight to San Jose, the only city in this nation smart enough to put its airport downtown where nobody cares.
Shamu and I have arrived safely in Costa Rica. He was stopped by airport security because he carries enough artillery in his pants pockets to construct a sawed-off shotgun. Evidently, he though we were headed to Iraq.
I've never been lucky. The day my ship came in, I was at the airport.
It was either me or Confucius that said the journey of a thousand miles begins with a vicious ass raping at airport security.
When someone's running late through an airport, I hope they miss their flight so they can meet the love of their life at the duty free shop.
I went to Ethiopia, and it dawned on me that you can tell a starving, malnourished person because they've got a bloated belly and a bald head. And I realized that if you come through any American airport and see businessmen running through with bloated bellies and bald heads, that's malnutrition, too.