BBS - "Big Bag of $h!t" - a fairly generic term that can be applied to just about any large piece of cumbersome "carry-on" that isn't really luggage.  Like a handbag the size of a Buick seat cover or a hockey bag or scuba bag or even a trash bag that some poor slob is using for a suitcase.  More often than not it's bags of drek the idle rich have purchased and are now at a loss as to how they will get it home.  I got one word for those morons - UPS..........
 
 
 
 
 

Carry-On Armadas - generally speaking, it's any suitcase that even a four year old can guess is too godamn big to be taking on the plane as "carry on".  I've seen it all - from an Asian guy with 5 full size suitcases that showed up 5 minutes before they were about to hit the door to a "gnarly blond haired surfer dude" (GBHSD) who showed up with his wet suit/scuba gear bag.  If you've not seen one of these bad boys - they are sorta like a duffel bag - but they're about 2 and a half feet square on either end & about 4 feet long.  They have lots of storage areas that are merely nylon mesh screens so that said GBHSD's crap can bang around in the overhead & cover all of your stuff with sand and funk from the ocean.  Totally bitchin', dude!
 
 
 
 
 
 

COI (CsOI) - "Captain(s) Of Industry!" - to be uttered with authority, these are the guys (for the most part) and occasional gals who, due to their high ranking positions within their receptive companies and the associated number of corporate minions willing to lick their a$$es, believe that they are "The $h!t!" - that they need to be first, get the most overhead storage, the best seat, the first crack at the exit, etc.  Yes, it's true - but the Captain of Industry forgets one very important thing - to ME he is nothing but another pushy a$$hole with a wrinkled suit that can't be bothered to check his godamn bag even though it's the size of a steamer trunk.  These guy's won't excuse themselves when passing you in close quarters - and forget one of them moving aside to let you pass.  God forbid you should come upon a "gaggle" - that's 2 or 3 Captains of Industry - talking strategies & takeovers in a convenient locale at the bottom of a stairwell or center of a hallway.  Oh - and yes, you WILL wait for them to get their suit jacket off, get it neatly folded, and finally placed gingerly in the already burgeoning overhead compartment before you get past them in row 9 - even though the boarding attendant only called rows 21 to 32.  You inconsiderate pricks. Being six foot four / two-fifteen I usually don't have any problem convincing the COI that I have an equal right of passage and I'm prepared to enforce it.  Ask me sometime about "the breakfast incident" that took place at ComNet in Washington D.C. this year........
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

C.P.A. - "Cell Phone Asshole!" - As you can imagine, this peratins to those individuals that can't use a cell phone in a reasonable amount of time when behind the wheel of a car.  Mind you, I've got nothing against the technology - hell, I even own one.  But I cannot stand when I am forced to deal with some moron on the road who has to check the latest charts from his/her admin or "pull up the Jenkins account" while he/she is driving (in the passing lane, of course - it is PA were taking about) and swerving from side to side & speeding up & slowing down and generally being.... an asshole on a cell phone..........
 
 
 
 
 
 

Tarzaning - this is the delightful process by which an octogenarian or really drunk airline passenger moves throughout the cabin.  Basically - you swing from seatback to seatback as you make your way through the plane.  It's especially nice if you can manage to wake every sleeping occupant in the process, or at least slap a few of us in the head....
 
 
 
 

T-Rex - this is what happens to tall people like me when we get trapped in the middle or wall seat.  I get real paranoid about invading everyone's personal space - or I end up wedged against a wall.  When my scrumdillyuptious airline meal comes I usually have to tuck my arms tight in at my sides & keep my hands close to my chin.  When I eat like this I feel like a T-Rex - big dorky body with arms so short I could even scratch my own a$$.  This is by far one of the worst parts of airline seating -and my luck usually places me between 2 guys the size of Andre the Giant who have sweat gland issues they need to resolve.  Eeech.