Dear Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab:

You bastard. I mean, I can plainly see why countries might not like America all that much thanks to the exportation of McDonalds and the existence of Paris Hilton, among other things, but speaking only for myself here, did you really have to try to blow up a plane headed there when I was about to have to make the same UK to US journey? Why couldn't you stick to scamming people out of their money like the rest of the country? It always happens when I need to get back from somewhere - suddenly a no-liquids rule on the way back from the honeymoon, reduced luggage and hours of extra security checks at Heathrow this afternoon. In two years, no hand luggage, no clothing and no smiling.

Because of your failure to do anything but set your own leg on fire, we sat watching the hours go by at Heathrow while a cluster of people were molested one by one by a security team, before they all moved over a gate and gave us the privelege as well (not having the wherewithal or resources to actually start before the flights were due to leave). Have you any idea what it's like trying to explain the contents of your case to an elderly Indian man while having your intimate areas grabbed by his partner? "That's a dynamo torch, I didn't know what it was either when I unwrapped it, you wind it up with the handle". "It's a DS, you know, the... portable game thing, it opens sort of like a laptop, like this...". "It's a DVD drive, I keep it out of my computer because I fruitlessly hope that putting in the second battery gives it more than a minute more lifespan." Having a book called Why We Suck probably wasn't the best choice either when they were looking for people who don't like America. But my brother-in-law was only travelling within the US, and they didn't allow him to have so much as a book out, giving the passengers six hours of mind-numbing blankness (or some respite if they turned the seat-back TVs off). I didn't think I could enjoy flying any less, but you have shown me new levels of unbearability.

I wish upon you two hundred delayed non-stop flights to Australia, with your legacy of increased security measures, in economy class, between two people who have eaten exclusively at McDonalds for the last fifteen years and behind one of those people who catapults their seat into the fully reclined position and leaves it there for the duration of the flight.

Bye.