Skip to comments.TSA memo on Santa Claus
Posted on 12/20/2010 10:25:22 AM PST by jpf
Transportation Safety Administration Washington D.C.
To all regional supervisors,
As you know this Friday 24 December is Christmas Eve, and as always we are expecting Santa Claus, aka Kris Kringle, aka Saint Nicholas, aka Father Christmas, aka St. Nick, to be flying across the United States. While many of us, I'm sure, have fond memories of the jolly old elf, I need not remind you that our job is to protect the American people at all times. Toward that end we must view Santa Claus in the light of a potential threat to the United States.
Santa has long been known to be lax when it comes to security. Packages carried in his sleigh do not go through any screening process nor are his elves properly screened for terrorist connections. Santa simply relies upon knowing whether the people who work for him are naughty or nice. Also, Santa's sleigh carries large quantities of coal, a highly combustible material.
(Excerpt) Read more at flood-mybigmouth.blogspot.com ...
Also heard....Santa can no longer say Ho, Ho, Ho.....He has to say working girl, working girl, working girl.
Does Santa have a green card? If not, wouldn’t he be an illegal alien?
LOVE STORY...SORT OF
He grasped me firmly but gently just above my elbow and guided me into a room, his room. Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone.
He approached me soundlessly, from behind, and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear. Just relax.
Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and moving upward along my calves slowly but steadily. My breath caught in my throat. I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didnt care. His touch was so experienced, so sure.
When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and partly closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage. And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply. Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into my panties.
Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant. This is a man, I thought. A man used to taking charge. A man not used to taking `no for an answer. A man who would tell me what he wanted. A man who would look into my soul and say ...
Okay, maam, all done.
My eyes snapped open and he was standing in front of me, smiling, holding out my purse.
You can board your flight now.
That gives new meaning to the term airport novel.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.