(I keep my eyes closed and arms crossed while fantasizing about Niles. It's a coping mechanism.)
I almost hurled my tossed salad and scrambled eggs. Kelsey Grammer sucking the tonsils out of his mistress/girlfriend/fiance's throat at JFK is enough to make anyone have a bad case of air sickness - or in this case - ground sickness. Judging by her body language, the M/G/F concurs. I mostly feel bad for the foreign tourists whose last impression of this great country before boarding their planes was a scene straight out of a Woody Allen movie. On behalf of the people of the United States of America, I apologize.
Kelsey, please button up your shirt the next time you're in public, then take some of that Fraiser money and do us all a public service by staying out of public view. If you must go out, surround yourself with body guards, for cripes sake. That's what they're there for - to protect both you and the public from irreparable harm. It may be too late for me, but I would greatly appreciate your efforts in protecting the next generation.
And for the love of David Hyde Pierce, if you do go out in public, please PLEASE don't play kissy kissy in the airport airport anymore. I must use this mode of transportation on occasion, and there are not enough bars in the Delta terminal to erase the memory of this level of grossness. You've gone off the deep end by cheating on your wife and thinking that these young blonde things want you for your balding, pot-bellied self, and I really don't think Roz will be happy about this.