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The Kenworthy family recently joined the “mile high club” on their way from San Diego to Atlanta. No, no, I know what you’re thinking – that they got all stoned and naked, rubbed one another down with tea tree oil, and then played like slippery moray eels in the airplane lavatory. You’re probably assuming that they put the “tranny” into the phrase “I’m flying air tran”.
That’s not the “mile high club” that I’m referring to, but you’re kind of on the right track. Kind of.
Whynatte is creating a mile high club of our own, and it has nothing to do with airborne incestual tomfoolery. The only penetration that I’m talking about is the penetration of an ice cold shot of Jagermeister penetrating the living bejesus out of a hot latte.
What I’m talking about is making the friendly skies friendly again, taking a stand for what you believe in, and when it’s all said and done, being able to say that you drank a Whynatte while over 30,000 feet above the ground.
From what I can tell, the Kenworthy family are the first members of this elite club, but I’m sure not the last.
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All 3 in Whynatte shirts. An obvious, yet important point nonetheless.
Airport Security is obviously just as fucked as ever:
If we all lived with as much passion for Whynatte as the Kenworthy’s, you can’t tell me that we wouldn’t have peace in Jerusalem, and cars that can hover by now.
About The Author
jesse
Hello, I'm one of the co-founders of Whynatte, and currently handle the marketing, branding, and business development. I also handle the mail room, the black market primate side-operation, and most of the shipping and receiving. A little of this, a little of that. The fact that you're actually reading this indicates that you've lent us your time, and have an interest in Whynatte. Thank you. It's the gazillion people who've supported us along the way that make the difference. See you around....
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6 Responses and Counting...
this is the best thing i’ve ever seen in my life. This and the girl I met tonigth from the virgin islands….
such stealthy whynatte drinking. Ever time i take one it feels like another earthquake hit southern caifornia.
Best part about this:
[Dad takes a light sip of whynatte and looks refreshed]
Julia: “Chug it dad. Chug it.”
Dad: “Oh.”
[Dad proceeds to pound whynatte without so much as flinching]
Jesse: please explain why anyone would think that you meant “that they got all stoned and naked, rubbed one another down with tea tree oil, and then played like slippery moray eels in the airplane lavatory.”
i thought that was the definition of the “mile high club”
No it’s when you slap your family jewels with a ziplock bag of frozen sardines at the top of a mountain.