War on terror

We’re Joining the Non-Lethal Arms Race! (Warning: Potential Arm Damage)

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The internet: you can find anything here, from cats wearing things to cats falling from things or even the grammatically poor ways we imagine cats are expressing their feelings for and about things. But in the approximately nine percent of the internet that ISN’T specifically devoted to feline adorableness, there are some other interesting things that pop up, like, for example, the US Military’s letters to Hippie NRA Santa about all the crazy things they wish he would invent for them to shoot at things.

Over 100 not very secret pages of non lethally imagi-bombs and make believasers were published on the internets by some busy body who doesn’t want someone to be surprised the next time they’re not subdued by a military grade hug ray. This “Non-Lethal Weapons Reference Book” which is basically being called the “Things You Never Knew Existed” catalogue of as seen on TV scuba diver tummy ache beams and crowd uncomfortabling lasers, as released by the US Department of Defense’s Joint Non-Lethal Weapons Directorate. A “sales pitch for continued funding”.

Now, naturally, this got me to thinking. I can come up with awesome made up ways to shoot annoying people with imagination! And apparently, there’s not even a need for any of my crazy this to ever become reality since apparently: “A 2009 report by the US Government Accountability Office said that the JNLWD had spent at least $386 million on 50 research projects – but had failed to actually produce any new weapons.”

I can totally do that! Coming up with ideas for this that never materializes is what I’m all ABOUT!

So, with the promise of hundreds of millions of dollars to feed my madness and a bloodless lust in my heart I present to you, the VFoC Apartment of Cut-it-Outs: Rail Un-Hurty Projectile Superintendency (RUHPS)

First of all, Mister or Missus Weapon Buying Patriot, I give you our acronym: far superior to that jumble of unusable Scrabble tiles that other weapon dealer calls a name. Jinuluwud? Bullshit — Rups! Just say it “Rups” (silent h, obviously). That sticks in the mind, you know that Rups sells you your humane crowd stompers and you trust that the name “Rups” means quality invisible weaponesque “technologies”.

But you’re here to buy things to hurt people so bad they’ll wish they were dead, but legally can not be held responsible in any way for said harm. We know, and we want to sell those things to you! So allow me to present our first new harm-portunity:

The Giggle Cannon!

The face of terror.
The face of terror.

Directing precisely targeted “technology particles” at your victim’s most theoretically ticklish zones or “ticklish zones” ie, pits, ribblets, taint — the Giggle Canon renders assailants helpless, twitching masses of fun! And as a special added bonus, the effects of the Giggle Cannon makes even the most hardened “Death to America” lefty look innocent and care free in their uncontrollable chuckle fit.

Collateral Damage: Tough guy image, 29% Chance of Pant Be-Dampening.

But if only a three in ten chance of ruining the enemies slacks just isn’t enough retaliation for you, then RUHPS has something else that might fill your boots with “joy”. Introducing:

The Re-Crappinator!

"Oh! Your freedom filled my pants!"
"Oh! Your freedom filled my pants!"

Using future based “micro-science” technology and concussive sound wave projectiling you will fill any non-killing field with the pungent fumes of bowel dominance! With a variable control dial setting ranging from “Turtle Head” to “Ass-tastrophe” the Re-Crappinator will fill the pants of your enemies at an alarming rate, sending insurgents and collaborators scattering with chunks of their partially digested granola and tofu lunches trailing behind them!

Collateral Damage: Dignity, o-ring structural integrity.

And while those two gems of the RUHPS catalogue should be more than enough to topple any ne’erdowells that might threaten the peace in your part of God’s purple majesty, we have saved the best for last. Completely non-lethal, utterly effective and absolutely environmentally friendly:

The Controlled Crowd Fragmentalization Bags!

Occupying... Elsewhere.
Occupying... Elsewhere.

Essentially a paper sack filled with black powder, old bicycle gears and spent plutonium rods, the Controlled Crowd Fragmentalization Bags is the first and last word in crowd disbursement technology. Simply turn on the bag with the gentle introduction of a polite eco neutral natural elemental force, place bag amongst those you wish to no longer be where they currently are, and watch as the Controlled Crowd Fragmentalization Bag instantameously eliminates your unwanted nuisance! No muss, no fuss.

Collateral Damage: Negligible.

So in conclusion, we at Van Full of Candy’s Apartment of Cut-it-Outs: Rail Un-Hurty Projectile Superintendency (RUHPS), would like to thank you for taking the time to hear our presentation. We look forward to using your hundreds of millions of dollars to help make this world a safer, happier place for me to spend hundreds of millions of dollars in government contracts on whores and narcotics, as that money is usually spent! We’ve finally found our calling, now you better pray we never find you!

USA! USA! USA!

We're Joining the Non-Lethal Arms Race! (Warning: Potential Arm Damage)

Posted on

The internet: you can find anything here, from cats wearing things to cats falling from things or even the grammatically poor ways we imagine cats are expressing their feelings for and about things. But in the approximately nine percent of the internet that ISN’T specifically devoted to feline adorableness, there are some other interesting things that pop up, like, for example, the US Military’s letters to Hippie NRA Santa about all the crazy things they wish he would invent for them to shoot at things.

Over 100 not very secret pages of non lethally imagi-bombs and make believasers were published on the internets by some busy body who doesn’t want someone to be surprised the next time they’re not subdued by a military grade hug ray. This “Non-Lethal Weapons Reference Book” which is basically being called the “Things You Never Knew Existed” catalogue of as seen on TV scuba diver tummy ache beams and crowd uncomfortabling lasers, as released by the US Department of Defense’s Joint Non-Lethal Weapons Directorate. A “sales pitch for continued funding”.

Now, naturally, this got me to thinking. I can come up with awesome made up ways to shoot annoying people with imagination! And apparently, there’s not even a need for any of my crazy this to ever become reality since apparently: “A 2009 report by the US Government Accountability Office said that the JNLWD had spent at least $386 million on 50 research projects – but had failed to actually produce any new weapons.”

I can totally do that! Coming up with ideas for this that never materializes is what I’m all ABOUT!

So, with the promise of hundreds of millions of dollars to feed my madness and a bloodless lust in my heart I present to you, the VFoC Apartment of Cut-it-Outs: Rail Un-Hurty Projectile Superintendency (RUHPS)

First of all, Mister or Missus Weapon Buying Patriot, I give you our acronym: far superior to that jumble of unusable Scrabble tiles that other weapon dealer calls a name. Jinuluwud? Bullshit — Rups! Just say it “Rups” (silent h, obviously). That sticks in the mind, you know that Rups sells you your humane crowd stompers and you trust that the name “Rups” means quality invisible weaponesque “technologies”.

But you’re here to buy things to hurt people so bad they’ll wish they were dead, but legally can not be held responsible in any way for said harm. We know, and we want to sell those things to you! So allow me to present our first new harm-portunity:

The Giggle Cannon!

The face of terror.
The face of terror.

Directing precisely targeted “technology particles” at your victim’s most theoretically ticklish zones or “ticklish zones” ie, pits, ribblets, taint — the Giggle Canon renders assailants helpless, twitching masses of fun! And as a special added bonus, the effects of the Giggle Cannon makes even the most hardened “Death to America” lefty look innocent and care free in their uncontrollable chuckle fit.

Collateral Damage: Tough guy image, 29% Chance of Pant Be-Dampening.

But if only a three in ten chance of ruining the enemies slacks just isn’t enough retaliation for you, then RUHPS has something else that might fill your boots with “joy”. Introducing:

The Re-Crappinator!

"Oh! Your freedom filled my pants!"
"Oh! Your freedom filled my pants!"

Using future based “micro-science” technology and concussive sound wave projectiling you will fill any non-killing field with the pungent fumes of bowel dominance! With a variable control dial setting ranging from “Turtle Head” to “Ass-tastrophe” the Re-Crappinator will fill the pants of your enemies at an alarming rate, sending insurgents and collaborators scattering with chunks of their partially digested granola and tofu lunches trailing behind them!

Collateral Damage: Dignity, o-ring structural integrity.

And while those two gems of the RUHPS catalogue should be more than enough to topple any ne’erdowells that might threaten the peace in your part of God’s purple majesty, we have saved the best for last. Completely non-lethal, utterly effective and absolutely environmentally friendly:

The Controlled Crowd Fragmentalization Bags!

Occupying... Elsewhere.
Occupying... Elsewhere.

Essentially a paper sack filled with black powder, old bicycle gears and spent plutonium rods, the Controlled Crowd Fragmentalization Bags is the first and last word in crowd disbursement technology. Simply turn on the bag with the gentle introduction of a polite eco neutral natural elemental force, place bag amongst those you wish to no longer be where they currently are, and watch as the Controlled Crowd Fragmentalization Bag instantameously eliminates your unwanted nuisance! No muss, no fuss.

Collateral Damage: Negligible.

So in conclusion, we at Van Full of Candy’s Apartment of Cut-it-Outs: Rail Un-Hurty Projectile Superintendency (RUHPS), would like to thank you for taking the time to hear our presentation. We look forward to using your hundreds of millions of dollars to help make this world a safer, happier place for me to spend hundreds of millions of dollars in government contracts on whores and narcotics, as that money is usually spent! We’ve finally found our calling, now you better pray we never find you!

USA! USA! USA!

Your Fake Boobs Are Two Incredibly Beautiful Terrorists

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What the hell is going on with TSA these days? A couple of months ago they were searching for bombs in baby’s diapers, then they moved on recently to searching for bombs in a 90 year old’s Depends Undergarment. But now … NOW … they’re going to need to start fondling all the ladies with implants. Very smart TSA, VERY … SMART IN-DEED! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job application to run down to the airport. Be right back.

RED ALERT : SEVERE RISK OF TERRORIST ATTACKS

Actually, no, it’s not TSA’s fault this time, it’s the plane terrorists making my wait at the airport another hour longer than normal. Dicks! What a bittersweet thing these terrorists are doing. Strapping those bulky, unbreathable bombs to themselves is so 2001, and the modern terror-fashionista-ist would never be caught dead with the cliché “underwear bomb” from 2009. Those acts of terrorism were so bunchy, and the pantie-lines were simply atrocious. So what is a terrorist to do?

ORANGE ALERT : HIGH RISK OF TERRORIST ATTACK

Well one smarty terrorist has finally devised a way to not only look fabulous, but to blow a fucking plane to smithereens while doing so. Say hello to “The Implant Bomb”. That round, succulent, perky bosom of mass destruction teasing us with its low cut flirtyness, giving us just enough of a show to distract us from the mayhem that it will be causing very soon. Bittersweet in the fact that big fake boobs are great to look at, they might be a bit on the hard side when fondling, but for the most part, great, I’m not complaining believe me. But now with the implant scare, I’m sure there will soon be some sort of new US Regulation keeping women with low self-esteem from easily acquiring implants without some sort of huge screening process, which will then spiral out of control to a ban on implants altogether. Damn you Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab !!! First you take our freedom from safe flying, and now you take our eye candy too, you’re such a prick! However, I am interested to see the pictures they use on the new terror alert system.

GREEN ALERT : No terror here, let her on the plane

Your #2 Is NOTHING For Our New Russian Toilets !!

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No thanks, I'll just shit my pants tonight.

Indestructible toilets … finally!!!

Not only can these toilets from the future take the blast of a terrorist bomb, but I can finally piss on the lid and have absolutely no guilt. Seriously! These toilets are made of “ultra-strong fibrous concrete” so they can take the biggest load you could ever conceivably dump into them, and the “fittings are hewn from a mixture of steel and reinforced plastic”, so I can slam that lid down as hard as I want when I’m finished and it wont break. These baby’s are “vandal proof and terrorist-proof”. Wow! Terrorist proof? That’s a pretty balls’y claim. Where were these during Sept 11?

So I guess the natural question would be … why in the world would we need to have toilets, of the public type, to be fortified fucking bunkers? Is there that much anarchy happening within the confines of the #1/#2 variety that we need to take such extreme measures?

“If somebody leaves a bomb inside the lavatory and it explodes, then the toilet won’t be destroyed.” Well thank fuckin’ Christ Russia. You can’t imagine how many times I’ve sat on the pot in a public place and thought “Eff … I certainly pray to Gawd that this gawddamn porcelein pot of bowel-catchings doesn’t explode.” And certainly not on my watch … well … not that I’m watching … but I hope you get the gist. Butt apparently, the drive to “introduce bomb-proof toilets in the city follows a spate of deadly bomb attacks in recent years.” I’m actually a bit confused right now as I type this out. I can’t actually remember the last time I’ve ever even heard about a toilet-bombing. Can you dear reader? No seriously … can you? If so PLEASE leave us a comment because I feel so out of the shitter-loop right now. CNN Moscow reports … “In the most recent incident, a suicide bomber struck Moscow’s main airport killing 37 people.” So, you’re trying to make me believe that there were, at ONE time, 37 people sitting on the toilet at the same time in an airport? Not believing that!

Hey Russia ... We're sending over our secret weapon ... Patty Poopster

They go on to say that “The high tech facilities will also be kept above 16 degrees centigrade ­ (about 60 degrees Fahrenheit), important in a city where winter temperatures often plunge below -30 degrees centigrade.” … So in a freakin’ winter wonderland of hypothermia, you’ll always know that if you’re out and about wandering the streets, you’ll always have a warm place to snuggle up with your honey and warm your tootsies together and share a warm cup of cocoa? Man! How nice is that? But wait … there’s more … “City officials say an extra security feature of the new unisex toilet is that members of the public will be able to spend a maximum of 30 minutes inside before the doors automatically open and an alarm sounds.”

Well I don’t know about you fellas out there reading this .. but … shit … I’m not gonna throw down the $39.99 for a night at a Holiday Inn with a lady of the night or a lady of the drunk-bar variety. I’m gonna be a chivalrous man and drag her into a public port-a-potty, knock out some business which usually only lasts 7-9 minutes anyway, and totally not set off any alarms and be home before Wheel of Fortune starts. Sha-blamm!!

Thanks Russia!

Osama bin Jackin’: The Diary of the “Little Terrorist”‘s Mind

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Osama bin Laden was just like you and me. Wait. No. What I meant to say is that, you’re no different than Osama bin Laden. NO! No, that’s not it. Okay, let me start over.

Oh the naughty things that happen behind those walls

Osama bin Laden’s penis. It existed. So does yours. If you were born with one. Or if yours wasn’t lost in a horrible accident that you have changed the details of to sound much tougher than we all really know it was. The point is, Osama bin Laden was a man, a terror man, but a man none the less, and as such, he had a collection of pornography that “consists of modern, electronically recorded video and is fairly extensive”. Or so says Reuters. That’s right, when he wasn’t plotting ways to terrorize otherwise peace loving citizens of the world, he was terrorizing his Jihad junk, in what I can only imagine were dry, sandy, angry sessions of joyless, medically prescribed masturbation sessions. Mostly because when I try to think of it any other way, my brain turns off to protect me from myself and I wake up several hours later in a pool of what ever was in me before I went out.

It's always a surprise inside the dirty dirty burqa!

Of course this is the main reason I hope I’m not killed in a raid on my compound by highly trained military personnel… The embarrassing shit of mine they’ll find… And because I mostly haven’t done anything to warrant such action against me, but mostly because of the embarrassing thing…

But not surprisingly to those who know and understand us by now, we at Van Full of Candy have been able to obtain a list of the confiscated collection through one of our MANY friends in the special operations fields of our nation’s armed forces. We’re big with people who can murder you almost accidentally. So VFoC is proud to present just a very small sampling of some of Osama bin Laden’s personal compound stash entitled: “Osama bin Jackin’: The Pornographic Diary of a Big Terrorist’s “Little Terrorist”‘s Mind.”

“Adiba Does Abbottabad”

In the dusty footsteps of the ongoing saga of the ever popular “Debbie Does Dallas” series, Malik Productions introduces the latest Middle East version. Filmed on location in Abbottabad, this latest chapter follows the sexcapades of a young, hot, rogue, lady of the night as she explores as many Pakistani army men as one desert-hooker can possibly handle, and with a surprise ending that will leave you breathless and sandy in your crevices.

Starring: Foxy Fadiyah, Big Bahir, Ishaq and Salim Stone

“Over Privileged Infidel Cows Gone Wild”

It’s Spring Break and the painted whores of the decadent west are AT IT AGAIN! See them prance about, baring their disgusting flesh for the lascivious enjoyment of the gathered throngs… and YOU! Then, when they get back to the hotel, see ’em defiling their bodies, wantonly dishonoring their families and ancestors ALL, NIGHT, LONG!

Starring: The yellow haired hussy, the ginger whore, that one who does that horrible thing in the shower and a cast of hundreds of sub human dogs.

“The Towers Twins Explode (Squirter Edition)”

Those hot, sexy, twins of the desert, Pixi Towers and Candy Towers are at it once again! In some of the hottest scenes ever captured on a magic carpet, these girls will blow your mind while they blow their geysers. So sit back, relax, throw on your snorkel gear and grab a seriously absorbent towel, cause it’s about to get explodingly wet up in here!

Starring: Pixi Towers, Candy Towers, Hung Habib and none other than Rafi the Rock

“Martyr Al Kahwai’s Heavenly Reward”

They may be 72 virgins, but you wouldn’t know it by how hot the action is! After exploding himself in a glorious attack on a food court full of non-believers, Yakish Al Kahwai awakens to find he’s late to the party and his 72 ladies have started without him! How will he ever catch up, he’s only got… ETERNITY!

Starring: Amtullah “Tah-tahs” Afsoon, Muffy Marjaneh, Bambi Banou and Hareesusa laykum Logjammer as Martyr Al Kahwai

“Glory Burqa – Hidden Surprises 2”

If you’re a fan of glory holes, then this is the movie for you. Three possibly beautiful women show up where you would least expect and many lucky little Jihadists get t0 explore their Glory Burqa. You never know what the heck is underneath, it’s the Russian Roulette of oral indulgence, but all you need to know is that this is the most orgasmic Burqa flick you’ll ever lay eyes on, not that that even matters since you can’t see them.

Starring: F Me Fayruz, “Lips” Rubaba, and introducing Tameemah the Tongue

“Beard on Beard: Hot Cave Action #64”

When you’re battling along side fellow Jihadists in the most inaccessible mountains in the world for decades on end, you develop a bond, closer than friends, deeper than brothers, hotter than lovers. It gets hot in the caves of Afghanistan, and when the sun goes down, so does Fareed.

Starring: Yaseen bin Schlong, Aalam Al Throbknob and Imam Suck Puppet bin Qaaid ul Ghur ul Muhjjaleen.

Osama bin Jackin': The Diary of the "Little Terrorist"'s Mind

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Osama bin Laden was just like you and me. Wait. No. What I meant to say is that, you’re no different than Osama bin Laden. NO! No, that’s not it. Okay, let me start over.

Oh the naughty things that happen behind those walls

Osama bin Laden’s penis. It existed. So does yours. If you were born with one. Or if yours wasn’t lost in a horrible accident that you have changed the details of to sound much tougher than we all really know it was. The point is, Osama bin Laden was a man, a terror man, but a man none the less, and as such, he had a collection of pornography that “consists of modern, electronically recorded video and is fairly extensive”. Or so says Reuters. That’s right, when he wasn’t plotting ways to terrorize otherwise peace loving citizens of the world, he was terrorizing his Jihad junk, in what I can only imagine were dry, sandy, angry sessions of joyless, medically prescribed masturbation sessions. Mostly because when I try to think of it any other way, my brain turns off to protect me from myself and I wake up several hours later in a pool of what ever was in me before I went out.

It’s always a surprise inside the dirty dirty burqa!

Of course this is the main reason I hope I’m not killed in a raid on my compound by highly trained military personnel… The embarrassing shit of mine they’ll find… And because I mostly haven’t done anything to warrant such action against me, but mostly because of the embarrassing thing…

But not surprisingly to those who know and understand us by now, we at Van Full of Candy have been able to obtain a list of the confiscated collection through one of our MANY friends in the special operations fields of our nation’s armed forces. We’re big with people who can murder you almost accidentally. So VFoC is proud to present just a very small sampling of some of Osama bin Laden’s personal compound stash entitled: “Osama bin Jackin’: The Pornographic Diary of a Big Terrorist’s “Little Terrorist”‘s Mind.”

“Adiba Does Abbottabad”

In the dusty footsteps of the ongoing saga of the ever popular “Debbie Does Dallas” series, Malik Productions introduces the latest Middle East version. Filmed on location in Abbottabad, this latest chapter follows the sexcapades of a young, hot, rogue, lady of the night as she explores as many Pakistani army men as one desert-hooker can possibly handle, and with a surprise ending that will leave you breathless and sandy in your crevices.

Starring: Foxy Fadiyah, Big Bahir, Ishaq and Salim Stone

“Over Privileged Infidel Cows Gone Wild”

It’s Spring Break and the painted whores of the decadent west are AT IT AGAIN! See them prance about, baring their disgusting flesh for the lascivious enjoyment of the gathered throngs… and YOU! Then, when they get back to the hotel, see ’em defiling their bodies, wantonly dishonoring their families and ancestors ALL, NIGHT, LONG!

Starring: The yellow haired hussy, the ginger whore, that one who does that horrible thing in the shower and a cast of hundreds of sub human dogs.

“The Towers Twins Explode (Squirter Edition)”

Those hot, sexy, twins of the desert, Pixi Towers and Candy Towers are at it once again! In some of the hottest scenes ever captured on a magic carpet, these girls will blow your mind while they blow their geysers. So sit back, relax, throw on your snorkel gear and grab a seriously absorbent towel, cause it’s about to get explodingly wet up in here!

Starring: Pixi Towers, Candy Towers, Hung Habib and none other than Rafi the Rock

“Martyr Al Kahwai’s Heavenly Reward”

They may be 72 virgins, but you wouldn’t know it by how hot the action is! After exploding himself in a glorious attack on a food court full of non-believers, Yakish Al Kahwai awakens to find he’s late to the party and his 72 ladies have started without him! How will he ever catch up, he’s only got… ETERNITY!

Starring: Amtullah “Tah-tahs” Afsoon, Muffy Marjaneh, Bambi Banou and Hareesusa laykum Logjammer as Martyr Al Kahwai

“Glory Burqa – Hidden Surprises 2”

If you’re a fan of glory holes, then this is the movie for you. Three possibly beautiful women show up where you would least expect and many lucky little Jihadists get t0 explore their Glory Burqa. You never know what the heck is underneath, it’s the Russian Roulette of oral indulgence, but all you need to know is that this is the most orgasmic Burqa flick you’ll ever lay eyes on, not that that even matters since you can’t see them.

Starring: F Me Fayruz, “Lips” Rubaba, and introducing Tameemah the Tongue

“Beard on Beard: Hot Cave Action #64”

When you’re battling along side fellow Jihadists in the most inaccessible mountains in the world for decades on end, you develop a bond, closer than friends, deeper than brothers, hotter than lovers. It gets hot in the caves of Afghanistan, and when the sun goes down, so does Fareed.

Starring: Yaseen bin Schlong, Aalam Al Throbknob and Imam Suck Puppet bin Qaaid ul Ghur ul Muhjjaleen.

Beware: Exploding Babies

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I don’t do a lot of flying, I have my reasons. One of them, certainly, is the fact that I don’t do a lot of traveling. I don’t think they have a lot of destinationless flights, and if they did, why would they? But when I do go somewhere, which as I’ve stated, I don’t, I usually don’t fly. And when ever someone asks me, trying and failing to mask their contempt and disgust like I just told them I don’t own a TV or that I’m literate, “Why don’t you fly?” I like to first joke with them “Because I wasn’t born on Krypton, a dying planet whose inhabitants my desperate father tried to warn of its impending doom. But in their arrogance they cursed him a fool and refused to listen to his pleas. Then, in defiance of the planetary council, he built an escape craft, large enough only for a tiny infant, I, their third choice for occupants, to be rocketed to the safety of a distant planet, this planet, this Earth. Though if I had been born there and had been sent here, my alien physiology would surely be fantastically affected by the radiation of this planet’s yellow sun, imbuing me with great powers, not the least of which could quite possibly be the gift of unaided personal flight.” And we laugh. And by we I usually mean me, because most of the time the people I tell that joke to will wander off midway through. Undeterred I always finish the joke, because it’s so whimsical and outrageous, it gets me every time. Krypton… where do I come up with these things?

The other reason I don’t fly is because of the ever-present threat of exploding babies.

Now you may say “Well, how big of a threat could exploding babies be? I’ve never been exploded by a baby.” To which I would say, that makes you one of the lucky ones. A statistic that I just now made up shows that three in every two people in America have been exploded by a baby. That is a true made up fact!

So when I hear of the “uproar” stemming from a photo taken by a busy body priest in Kansas City over the weekend, of brave air port security personnel putting their very lives on the line for the air faring general public by thoroughly patting down a suspicious, potentially explosive packed 8 month old, I just want to say “You shut up, you shut right the hell up before you set off that ticking baby!”

Did someone make a boom boom?
Did someone make a boom boom?

You see, Saturday the right Reverend Jacob Jester took a dirty picture of a felt up baby after he passed through security in the Kansas City International airport. The first question one might ask of course is, “Why the fuck was it any of this asshole’s god damned business in the first fucking place?” Which, despite the somewhat excessive use of vulgarity considering we’re speaking of a man of the cloth, I think is a fair question. This wasn’t the parents having a problem with it like the six-year-old from a little while back. This was a literally holier than thou air traveler who decided it was his job to make sure the world knew how he felt about baby security.

But moving past the obvious problems of a Reverend taking snap shots of child touching, we arrive at the question of “Is this TSA screening gone overboard?” An excellent question. Wait, did I say excellent? I meant dumb. A dumb, stupid question. The reason this toddler-erroist was being given the smooth hand was because it’s stroller set off an alarm during a screening for explosives (or so says the TSA). Now, the world that we currently live in necessitates us screening things like strollers for explosives. Whether or not that’s a world any of us ever imagined we’d be living in or not is another question for another day, but that’s the cold hard fact of where we are. And in this world, where people are tucking C4 under their balls and trying to light it with a Bic between peanuts and beverage service, if something sets of a “Go Boom Boom” siren, that something gets wiped with a rubber glove, no matter how adorable it might have been before we thought it could explode.

The parents, who were either trying to smuggle explosives onto a plane through very clever baby based means, or simply accidentally bought a strolled constructed from bomb, were said to be “very cooperative and the process was completely without incident” and apparently didn’t have a problem with the proceedings. They did what they had to do, which then included allowing their infant to get a little bit of the “‘ol rub ‘n tug” and then they went on their way, being transported in mid-air from where they were to where they went. End of story for them. They had no idea that footage of their child’s federal massage had become a Twitter sensation. So then the next question becomes, if the family didn’t have a problem with it, and they weren’t taking cupcake snaps of their off spring getting digitally manipulated by the deft fingers of justice, then why the fuck is it any one else’s business?

Reverend @JacobJester wants YOUR plane to be filled with exploding babies!
Reverend @JacobJester wants YOUR plane to be filled with exploding babies!

The TSA, whom everyone seems to have no problem beating up for trying to do what they’re tasked to do in what may largely be a system of mostly symbolic gestures but is still designed to protect people as best they can, said that while children are not excluded from security screenings, that they are reviewing ways to improve its procedures for “low-risk populations.” But Reverend Your Business is My Business told the Kansas City Star that “An 8-month-old doesn’t pose a threat to airplane or national security. I am grateful for TSA’s willingness and desire to protect, but I believe in this instance that was extreme,”

But I for one couldn’t disagree with Acting Home Land Security Chief Jester more on this point. Any parent will tell you that a small child is just one squirming bag of biological explosions, barely contained by thin layers of disposable absorbent pull ups. Most home-made explosives use bags of fertilizer, essentially “doodies”. You stuff a fuse up the pooper of one of these things, wire it up just right, you’ve got a craptastrophe on your hands. And then where will your moral authority be Reverend? Plummeting 40,000 feet in a Pampers packed ball of smelly flames! That’s where!

So I say keep feelin’ up those babies air port security personnel. I’ll not fly better knowing that the skies are being protected from the clear and present, imminent threat, of air traffic’s new public enemy number one: exploding babies!