Apparently
Clive Beddoe is stalking the halls of the WestJet campus lately, dahrlings. And
just why shouldn’t he? It’s natural to gravitate to your
old haunts. I drop by my rehab centre whenever I need a pick me up.
Laughing and pointing at the inmates is a great stress reliever.
But I hear
Clive may actually be settling in for a spell, Pumpkins. Is there a coup afoot?
Or is Gregg hoofing it?
Has he,
like many before him, heard the siren call of another hemisphere? I hear Dubai
is lovely this time of year, dahrlings.
Rubbing
shoulders with a Sheik or two is never bad for one’s career. (I tried rubbing
their bellies once and nearly ended up in an oil well. They look so cute
covered in thousand dollar bills, but don’t press your luck.)
An Airbus
A380 certainly affords a little more leg room. Just sayin’.
