Posted on 11/19/2010 5:51:01 AM PST by Servant of the Cross
Ah, the airport, where modern folk heroes are made. The airport, where that inspired flight attendant did what everyone who’s ever been in the spam-in-a-can crush of a flying aluminum tube — where we collectively pretend that a clutch of peanuts is a meal and a seat cushion is a “flotation device” — has always dreamed of doing: pull the lever, blow the door, explode the chute, grab a beer, slide to the tarmac, and walk through the gates to the sanity that lies beyond. Not since Rick and Louis disappeared into the Casablanca fog headed for the Free French garrison in Brazzaville has a stroll on the tarmac thrilled so many.
Who cares that the crazed steward got arrested, pleaded guilty to sundry charges, and probably was a rude, unpleasant S.O.B to begin with? Bonnie and Clyde were psychopaths, yet what child of the ’60s did not fall in love with Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty?
And now three months later, the newest airport hero arrives. His genius was not innovation in getting out, but deconstructing the entire process of getting in. John Tyner, cleverly armed with an iPhone to give YouTube immortality to the encounter, took exception to the TSA guard about to give him the benefit of Homeland Security’s newest brainstorm — the upgraded, full-palm, up-the-groin, all-body pat-down. In a stroke, the young man ascended to myth, or at least the next edition of Bartlett’s, warning the agent not to “touch my junk.”
Not quite the 18th-century elegance of “Don’t Tread on Me,” but the age of Twitter has a different cadence from the age of the musket. What the modern battle cry lacks in archaic charm, it makes up for in full-body syllabic punch.
Don’t touch my junk is the anthem of the modern man, ...
(Excerpt) Read more at nationalreview.com ...
Don’t touch my junk, you airport-security goon — my package belongs to no one but me, and do you really think I’m a Nigerian nut job preparing for my 72-virgin orgy by blowing my johnson to kingdom come?
Don’t touch my junk, Obamacare — get out of my doctor’s examining room;
“Nowhere do more people meekly acquiesce to more useless inconvenience and needless indignity for less purpose. “
Exactly.
The K-Man hits it out of the park.
We need people to fake orgasms in the airport screening.
Fake? Heck, I am sure there are enough perverts that won’t need to fake anything. . .ewwwww.
If GovCo mandated TSA T&A is what it takes to finally wake enough of us up, then it will have been worth it.
If not, then, like Michelle, I will be ashamed of my country.
WARNING - GRAPHIC LANGUAGE: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5iId9uMleec
oh that would be too funny or i know i could probably start laughing, i laugh sometimes when i am nervous, so it would serve two purposes nervousness and like they are tickling me. ha ha ha. makes me laugh just to think about it.
Don’t touch my junk new call to arms. i like it
After the grope, hand the TSA agent a five dollar bill and thank him for the hand job, make sure to get a picture of it’s face........just sayin’
Actually, THAT’S the one I was looking for -
“don’t tread on my junk”
The “Don’t Touch My Junk” phrase is becoming more famous than ...”
Nah, I’d say it’s up there more with “Don’t taze me bro”
Combine the two....
“Don’t taze my junk”
You're right! :)
Third runner up:
Toll-Free number to the Congressional Switchboard
(866) 338-1015
Bloody Brit expression that’s gained currency in American folklore. I’ll be damned if the TSA’s sexual molesters touch MY JUNK!
We shouldn’t be humiliated for the barely tolerable privilege of flying these days.
How often do they change those gloves???? My doctor and dentist change them between each patient...to prevent the spread of DISEASE.
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