It's July 5, 2004. I've been up all night with my friends setting off endless volleys of fireworks. We're talking Roman candle wars, etc. Wake up a lil hung over and toss on the clothes from last night and rush to the airport.
I wait in a still new-feeling TSA line, put my bag on the x-ray belt. Then I'm told:
"Please step into this machine. It with blow a few puffs of air on you to detect explosive residues."
ginzykinz on June 27th, 2020 at 13:41 UTC »
The same part of the brain that asks, when I leave a store without making a purchase: what if I accidentally stole something
GnomeCzar on June 27th, 2020 at 13:48 UTC »
It's July 5, 2004. I've been up all night with my friends setting off endless volleys of fireworks. We're talking Roman candle wars, etc. Wake up a lil hung over and toss on the clothes from last night and rush to the airport.
I wait in a still new-feeling TSA line, put my bag on the x-ray belt. Then I'm told:
"Please step into this machine. It with blow a few puffs of air on you to detect explosive residues."
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck
Anyway, Guantanamo isn't so bad.
GeorgeLopezTheGreat on June 27th, 2020 at 14:39 UTC »
Change gun with drugs and you have me