This is not The Haters Club You're Looking For discussion
I hate the TSA
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by
Stina
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Jun 19, 2009 09:02AM
This morning I packed for a weekend trip that includes air travel and while going through my toiletries, I noted that almost all of them exceeded the liquid measurement limit that has been arbitrarily set by fearmonger(er?)s who refuse to differentiate between terror and people who just want to have a clean, moistuized face. As a compromise, I ended up squirting said facewash and my friendly moisturizer into Ziploc bags, now making me look like I'm smuggling separate semen samples into Vegas. Classy!
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They're probably also readily available at (or in the alley behind) the dollar store.
Can we just hate the TSA? Sure I understand what they are going for, but does anyone actually believe they make a difference? When you know you are going to have to deal with them a little piece of you dies inside...
Wow, I made Kasia say "gross". Should I be impressed, or disgusted with myself?
well she does like the wet hairy thing... I think we need to form a study group to identify what actually makes, Kasia tick. Because knowing is half the battle.
Oh my, THC is back to its old form with ziploc seamen samples and wet-hairy-i-don't-want-to-know-what-thingy.
Hey! your the one looking for Demi Moores bush.
Only because... Hey, don't go blaming it all on me!
I hate the TSA... I hate that the employees I've come in contact with seem to be self-important minions who like to boss people around in the dick-est way possible. I hate that I have to take off my flip flops in case I'm hiding something awful in them. I hate that I am paranoid about the metal detector going off when I zip through, so I try to walk as fast as possible, which really only makes one look more suspicious. I hate the navy blue blazers they wear in an attempt to look friendly, yet authoritative, and also like they're taking fashion advice from Katherine Papadopolis on Webster. I hate that when you are dealing with the TSA, lines are all of a sudden referred to as queues- as if we're in Europe or Canada, rather than in Hell. I also am really hating that I've paused while writing this because I'm wondering how much Big Brother monitors Goodreads. Should I have saved my rant until AFTER my flying experience?
I'm wondering how much Big Brother monitors Goodreads.Oh, we monitor it.
Oh, we monitor it."Great... I'm effed. I guess I'll go clean my holes for the inevitable cavity search.
Kristina...First EWwwwEEWWWWWwwwwWWWWWW nasty.
Secondly HAhHAHhahahahhahHHHAHAHAhahhahahah.
I feel something. It's less like joy and more like humiliation. On the bright side you do get that whole we're-in-this-together-against-the-man camaraderie previously only attainable in hostage situations as you shuffle barefoot across the dirty floor in varying states of undress, eyes darting around, hoping not to be the next one called aside for further investigation.
i'm glad someone sees it that way, Vicki Jean. Good for you.
Ladies, please behave! I'm sure we can find a compromise. I understand you, Gretchen, have some objections to full on streaking. Fair game. It's not always pretty, usually it's some the beer-bellied ex-frat sleaze that decides a naked run is his answer to the midlife crisis. Not that appealing.
Flashing? I wish I could say that flashing, if properly targeted, can be a titillating experience to both parties. But I do not believe it, feels too exhibitionist to me.
But I can see how being on the verge of loosing clothes might be appealing, VJ. It's that the uncertainly, the threat of being naked, that gives the desired adrenaline boost. Some like living dangerously like that. I can understand that.
I've been flashed on three separate occasions. Twice it was really creepy and scary. But one of the times it was kind of funny.
I used to flash people in high school. Drive-by flashing--because I was somehow unable to say no to dares from my friends. Plus, people's reactions were funny!
I swear I haven't done that since 1995, though.
I swear I haven't done that since 1995, though.
That's not the same. Flashing your tits is funny and mostly enjoyed by both parties. If anyone is upset about that, it's usually the flasher, once they've sobered up. I'm talking about male flashers, not doing it on a dare. None of mine had the notorious trench coat, though. Actually, one of them doesn't really count because it wasn't directed specifically at me.
Gretchen wrote: "I've been flashed on three separate occasions. Twice it was really creepy and scary. But one of the times it was kind of funny."I have this friend who likes to flash his ass, it's always rather funny. But I had a few encounters with strange old creeps that jump at from out of the bushes. EW!
I had a guy ask to see my "thingy" once. Luckily he was some distance away. He was in a balcony and I was on the street. When he asked, he waggled his index finger as representation of said "thingy." I had to look over my shoulder a few times to be sure he was speaking to me. He assured me that I was indeed the one with the "thingy" he wanted to see. The best part is that he was dressed kind of like this:
