I’m going to admit to feeling just the teeniest bit cranky about everybody freaking out over the TSA. Why? Because they’ve been scaring me shitless for years, and people have been almost universally patronizing about that. “What, authority you are not allowed to question or else? What’s to be scared of?” “So what if there’s no probable cause for any of this, you don’t have anything to be afraid of.” “Being expected to let strangers touch your stuff, riffle through your pockets, and put their hands way inside your personal space is uncomfortable? Grow up!”
But now that it’s your sense of boundaries getting crossed, everywhere I turn is another reminder that in two weeks, I start on the grand adventure that is six months of going through that twice a week. So how about this, rest of the world? Grow the fuck up, and the next time you think I’m just whining about something scary, like Facebook not respecting your privacy or the TSA crossing boundaries, take your patronizing bullshit and suck on it. Because I’m right, I just figured it out faster than you.
A good person would just be pleased we’re all on the same page and something might actually get done about it now. I’m not a good perosn; I’m a petty, spiteful and vindictive person with a selfish streak. So yes, it’s great that all of a sudden I’m on violent agreement with Ron Paul. That’s a real upper for my morning, let me just tell you. You’ll just have to excuse me because I’m a little overwhelmed by schadenfruede every time a guy goes, “But they’ll touch my balls!” Oh you poor baby, oh you poor dear. Let me go get a tiny violin so I can hear all about how hard this is for you.
I don’t give a shit about your agony; you’re three years too late to get my sympathy. Grow the fuck up you whiny brat. What did you expect when you bent over like that? You begged for this, now suck it up and enjoy your dose of senseless authority.
Oh yes, that does feel better. I feel much less cranky now. Two more days and I might be able to write congress, again, without expletives.