Minka Kelly went to the airport. She went to the airport and she got on a plane. She got on a plane and we don’t know where she was going. And you know what? That’s fine. We hope she’s gone somewhere nice, far away from the flashing glare of the paparazzi.

But we might as well make hay while the sun’s shining and have a little chat about airports. Airports are rubbish. Even stuff that’s normally good gets overwhelmed by rubbishness in an airport. Pret A Manger in an airport: rubbish. Reading a book in an airport: rubbish. Scratching that bit of eczema on your right arm so hard it bleeds, in an airport: rubbish.

It’s not Minka Kelly’s fault. It’s the fault of transport hubs. Transport hubs and the people who go there. The people who go there and the noise they make. Then, obviously, there’s the SECURITY which insists on DEGRADING you because of stupid NATIONAL SECURITY and TERRORISTS or some shit.

Minka Kelly doesn’t mind. Look at her go. She’s all “…oh, yeah, that old thing, hahahahahaha, yeah yeah my bag, man, I forgot about that, sure, sure, sure…”


This airport sucks

And then she’s all like “…here, how’s this, do you like my bra? I got it free ‘cos I’m a little bit famous…”


This airport sucks

And the she’s all like “…pfff, this airport sucks, you wanna frisk me? Get out of my face, punk…”


This airport sucks

And then she’s all like “…no shoes! No shoes! I’m totally wearing no shoes! Hey, you, look! No shoes! Just socks! Grey socks! Find a bomb on me now fuck face! No bombs! No hands! No bombs! Yeah that’s my belt, cheers…”


This airport sucks