The Checkout Trap … “Danger, Will Robinson, danger!”

I’d finished shopping … and was in a hurry to get home.

Only three “live cashiers” were open … all with lines that rivaled last chance sales on a Mega-Buck-Power-Ball-Night!

I made an executive decision and inched fearfully toward the dreaded … “Self-Check-Out-Lanes.”

How hard could it be?  After a few mishaps … I “became one with ATMs.”  Even we Luddites are trainable!

I pushed my cart up to a station.

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A way-too-loud-and-Rude-Robotic-Voice blared … “Please scan your first item.”

I started simple.

I scanned a can … a task millions of cashiers mastered with a flip of their wrist … smiling and chatting at the same time.

Swish went my can.

Immediately the Rude-Robotic-Voice barked … “Remove the item from the scanner” … I jumped and complied … what’s with this dude?

I grabbed my first produce item … gingerly placed it on the scanner.

I’m instructed to “Look up the item on the screen.”  Fortunately bananas are easy to spot … I touched the screen and removed the bananas before being chided for my tardiness.

Success was ephemeral … I was ordered to “Please re-scan your item” with the clear sub-textual implication … “You Effing Moron.”  I re-scanned it, quickly removing it before Herr Scanner went on a another rant.  The pressure was mounting …

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Sweat beaded up on my brow … I had three leeks banded together in a bunch.

They weren’t showing up on the screen.  I glanced around and noticed someone “swiping” their screen … it flipped to another page … I did that and voila … there’s a leek … I poked the screen.

Rude-Robot-Voice told me … “Enter the number of items.”

Well … there’re three leeks … but one bunch.  So I punched “3” and immediately saw I’d paid over eight dollars for my leeks.

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I looked around for the “Self-Checkout-Rescue-Agent” … but another surprise, surprise … no one was there to rescue me.

In fact, I saw three other pissed-off people in front of their Rude Robots punching buttons and receiving loud rude messages in return!

I made another executive decision … and finished my order.

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Instead of going home I headed over to “Customer Dis-Service” … and waited the mandatory 15 minutes.

My receipt fortunately decided to stay with me and not lose itself in whatever alien territory important receipts went … so I showed it to the human-type-person behind the counter.

She smiled … then reassured me I was not the only guy who overpaid for leeks … refunded my money and told me … “Have a good one!”

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I was much happier after human contact … though I’d never been able to figure out just what “Good One” I was supposed to have.

I didn’t ask her … I left with my leeks, money, personal contact … and in search of my own “Good One.”

Just sayin’ …

Could Orange be the New Black … Face?

This just in …

Seriously Absurd reports a vast movement sweeping the US … apparently a spinoff fueled by the Blackface appearance of Virginia Governor Ralph Northam and Attorney General Mark Herring.

In support of public racists … latent racists are moving “out-of-the-closet” popping up wearing “Orangeface.”

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It’s the “Rage” and the White House is … enraged.

Stunned Republicans called for the impeachment of Nancy Pelosi … and the appointment of a Special Investigator to get to the bottom of this clear and present danger.

Democrats have been spotted sneakily snickering in committee meetings … and in town hall meetings … they’ve been forced to wear Depends fearing they’ll wet their pants in glee.

According to one Congressman, “For the first time in 2½ years we’ve got something to be happy about!”

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Delivering their opening monologues in “Orangeface” … Late Night TV comics experienced ratings tsunamis.

Recognizing an opportunity … Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper launched their latest solo-duet … “You might hate me in Black … but you’ll love me in Orange.”

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Special KKK rallies supporting these new racists have sprung up throughout the South … with Klanspeople dancing manically in their new “Orange Rally Robes” around huge bonfires stoked by blazing orange flames.

Not wanting to be left out, counter protesting Black Lives Matter groups are busy hanging “Orangeface” effigy dolls from balconies, tree limbs, yard arms, flag poles, and bus stops.

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An orange food coloring shortage has Amazon scrambling to fulfill orders.

To keep up with the 1000’s of daily requests, Amazon employees have suspended participation in all office pools related to the size and identifiable markings on Jeff’s dick.

One Amazonian was quoted as saying, “We’re psyched … it’s like we really have a purpose now.  Everyone deserves to have a viable supply of orange coloring that’s safe to ingest and easy to use.”

On condition of anonymity … another Amazon worker said … “We’re 100% behind Jeff’s Dick Wars against Pecker’s Pecker.”

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SNL favorite Alec Baldwin steadfastly refuses to disclose his source for his trademark “Trump Orangeface.”

According to Baldwin, “It’s a closely held NBC secret.  Even if you water-boarded me … I wouldn’t reveal it.”

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The national leadership of the NAACP states that they see no racial implications for the “Orangeface” rage.

According to one spokesman, “We’re aware of only one person with an ‘Orangeface’ … and frankly we don’t care what you do to insult or embarrass that Motherf***er.”

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Yes, Virginia … there is an “Orangeface” … and it’s definitely replaced Blackface.

Just sayin’ …

The Real Xmas Wars

War’s been declared on Christmas … or as I like to say, Xmas!

Gird-up … this war’s being fought on several fronts and there’s no dearth of weaponry available.

Some folks are flame-throwing Christian soldiers marching off to Starbucks … apparently HQ Central Command for the Xmas Wars!

Others are “War Watchers” … who chronicle events as each salvo’s fired.

Then there are the Christmas War Deniers who … just like climate change deniers and Holocaust deniers … deny that Starbucks even has cups!

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Involvement in war requires propagandists and in WWll, they were Axis Sally, Tokyo Rose and Lord Haw-Haw. 

In Korea it was Seoul City Sue  …  and in Viet Nam, Hanoi Hannah waved the VC propaganda flag.

Not to be out done, our War on Xmas has launched salvos assaulting our eyes and ears with charges that explode in front of us declaring … “There’s a war on the Manger!”

Attacks used to come from Fox News’ Bill “Excuse-my-hand-up-your-skirt-and-my-weenie-wagging-in-your-face” O’Reilly … but now emanate from Sean Hannity who carries the Fox Xmas red and green propaganda banner against the heathen masses.

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Armies of Starbucks’ holiday cups bombard the pagan invasion of the “Holy Jesus and Mother of Merry Christmas” throngs. 

Starbucks’ refusal to state Merry Christmas on every cup is proof enough that this is indeed a take no prisoners holy war.

The accused war criminal Starbucks is solely responsible for “coffee-cup-carpet-bombing” Baby Jesus worshipers with heathen, hedonistic, unholy messages like “Happy Holidays” and “Seasons Greetings.”

What more proof do you need that this is a real war?

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If the religious Christian soldiers are serious about retaking their once sacred Christian ground … known as “malls” … which house the pagan Santa behind “spiritual shields” … then why don’t they invade the hallowed malls with their own Christmas Jesus?

Jesus “loves the little children … all the children of the world.”  What better way to spread the Christian word than a messianic Jesus invasion of the few malls left in America?

Kids sit on Santa’s lap … why not let them sit on Jesus’ lap … and ask him to bring them “a gift for Christmas?” 

After all … Jesus got gifts from the Wise Guys when he was born.

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Oust Santa … after all he’s just another old, fat white guy … and put Jesus on the new Christmas throne.

Just sayin’ … 

You’re a mean one …

Thanksgiving’s over … all the turkeys have let out a collective sigh … and put away their “Eat Mor Chickin’” signs!

We can focus now on the Xmas season!

Given the climates … political and real … I’m not sure we’ll hear these old standards this year … “Santa Claus got stuck in my chimney when he came last night ….” or, “Baby, I wanna trim your beautiful Christmas tree ….” and not even the fabulous, “I know what he wants for Christmas ….”

Now, the atmosphere is much more Seuss-ian … and no one spells it out more clearly than Seuss himself … are we sure he didn’t know Donald Trump?

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You’re a mean one, Mr. Trump
You really are a heel
You’re as cuddly as a cactus, you’re as charming as an eel, Mr. Ha-rump
You’re a bad banana with a greasy black peel!

You’re a monster, Mr. Schlump
Your heart’s an empty hole
Your brain is full of spiders, you have garlic in your soul, Mr. Ga-rump
I wouldn’t touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole!

You’re a foul one, Mr. Schtump
You have termites in your smile
You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Ga-lump
Given a choice between the two of you I’d take the seasick crocodile!

You’re a vile one, Mr. Schrunk
You’re a nasty wasty skunk
Your heart is full of unwashed socks, your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Schpee-lunk
The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote
“Stink, stank, stunk”!

You’re a rotter, Mr. Gunk
You’re the king of sinful sots
Your heart’s a dead tomato splotched with moldy purple spots, Mr. Poh-dunk
Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful
Assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable, mangled up in tangled up knots!

You nauseate me, Mr. Crunk
With a nauseous super “naus!”
You’re a crooked dirty jockey and you drive a crooked hoss, Mr. Up-chunk
You’re a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich
With arsenic sauce!

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My posthumous apologies to the Good Doctor … I tried but could not come close to matching his words and style … so I only changed the name of the accused.

Just sayin’ …

What really matters … and it’s not the mid-terms …

Here it is a few days after the crazed two year run-up to the 2018 mid-terms … and I have yet to determine whether I won … lost … or am just too exhausted to give a damn.

In spite of the tsunami of media punditry attempting to explain the results of the mid-terms … I choose to focus on much more important issues facing those of us who are engaged with life in 2018.

Here’s the Seriously Absurd list … so far.

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For those folks who still play “dress-up” one night each year, Halloween 2018 saw the demise of the “Killer Clown” as the #1 costume.

Amusingly enough … the #1 costume in this election mid-term year according to Pinterest … none other than Tonya Harding.

Say who?

Wasn’t she the ice skater who placed the championships into her own ex-husband’s hands … and there’s the legal complication … when he bashed the knee of poor Nancy Kerrigan … the #1 skater … knocking her out of the competition?

Yep … and after her December, 2017 bio-pic … “I, Tonya” … we have another American Anti-hero put up for worship.

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And … in 2018 if you didn’t buy your Fidget Spinner to play with Barron Trump … you’re too late.

Fidget Spinners hit the toy market January 2018 … peaked in May and now occupy no space on toy store shelves.

Oh wait … since Toys R Us closed it’s doors … there are no toy stores in America.

If you did buy a Fidget Spinner … hold on to it for 50 or so years and you’ll have a toy collectible for Mike and Frank … the guys in History Channel’s “American Pickers.”

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And of course we have our 2018 asteroid … code named Oumuamua … Hawaiian meaning … “a messenger that reaches out from the distant past.”

What’s got everyone gesticulating to this hunk of space rock is the idea that some spacey scientists … not Kevin Spacey … seem to think this flattish cigar shaped tumbler is an alien probe that was sent on a “fly by” of earth.

Mind you  … there is no evidence of any kind to support this theory.

But, if you ask me … I’ll remind you we have a guy in the White House who wants to establish a United States Space Force … and he has no evidence that such a “space force” is necessary, needed or even wanted.

Evidence … schmevidence!

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So there you have it … a sampler of what I think about instead of who won what in the 2018 mid-terms.

Just sayin’ …

The Canadians are attacking … The Canadians are attacking!

Yep … the coastline and estuaries of Maine and Massachusetts are under attack by Canadian savages.

In this case … by an ultra-aggressive crustacean … dubbed the “cockroach of the sea” because “once ya got ‘em ya just can’t get rid of ‘em” … Canadian Green Crabs.

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Since these miniature replicas of the cult SciFi movie “Attack of the Crab Monsters” are exiting Canada, the Canadian effort to curtail their population is underwhelming.

“Let ‘em Go South” and “Sic ‘em Crabbies” parties are held every weekend by enthusiastic Canadians who are tired of all the tariff bullying … insults hurled at their poster boy Prime Minister … and criticisms of their beer and scarlet serge Mountie uniforms emanating from south of their border.

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But … by violating US borders … especially without proper papers … these hard shelled Pit Bulls of the ocean may face massive US retaliation.

Perhaps even family separation … Green Crab Internment Camps in the hot Texas sun … or arrest and transport back to Canada!

God forbid if “you-know-who” in the White House catches a Fox & Friends’ discussion of these “Illegals” crawling sideways across our border from Canada!

Do I hear “Build a Sea Wall … Canada will pay for it?”

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On the commercial front of this “We Got Crabs War” … and true to our best practices … we’re looking to China to invent an automatic crab meat vacuum that sucks the meat right out of the little green beasts … Aaaah, good ‘ole American ingenuity!

Plus … since we’re the only predators of the Green Crab … led by the famed restaurateurs … Legal Seafoods, Boston … we’re frantically searching for ways to soothe our capitalist instincts and make money off the little buggers.   Crab Fests … Green Crab broths … seasonal dishes are migrating onto restaurant menus … we may soon have a new trendy seafood item!

Can The Food Network be the crabs’ next stop?  “The secret ingredient for tonight’s Top Chef is … the Green Crab!”

And in Massachusetts, Crab Warrior Bounty Hunters dump 1000’s of pounds of the crustaceans in organic farm compost fills … at 40 cents per pound!

And just like those sneaking across our southernmost border, these immigrants are also “of color” … this time green!

Just sayin’ …

I’m Glad I’m a Guy … Human Type

There are times when I’m really glad I’m a guy … a human guy!

George M. Cohan, told us that “The birds do it … bees do it … even educated fleas do it.”

It’s true … every morning I stroll along the shores and boardwalk of Lake Dora, one of the larger lakes in Central Florida.

I refer to it as the “Gators’ Single Bar”  ‘cause the gators are out in force … sunning, strutting, bellowing … and occasionally “roughing it up” with one another.

Recently, I walked out our front door and literally stumbled over two wise Bard Owls engaged in a feather flying “love smack down” … right in my driveway!

All this Mother Nature activity, emboldened Seriously Absurd’s “Crack-Love-Research Staff” to look into some of the more strange and absurd humping habits among the species.

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The Praying Mantis pays a dear price for his sexual fling.

Mama Mantis subscribes to the idea that “If you bug me enough you’ll get what you deserve.”

Scientific rumor has it that while Joe Mantis is literally losing his head … thanks to the Missus … his sexual fervor is heightened so he’s assured of successfully completing the act.

Whoopie … she gets mantis kids … and he gets dead!

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How about exploding genitals.  Exploding genitals?

Yep … in the honeybee hive, only the Drones get to “get it on” with the Queen Bee.  But wait … there’s a price to pay for being one of “the chosen!”

Apparently the successful insemination of the Queen requires that the Drone’s sperm be “locked” into the Queen’s body cavity.  The Drone’s genitals … mainly his penis … explode during the act thus sealing the Queen’s cavity from the competition.

I think we can assume that post-penile-explosion the now “dickless” Drone falls to the wayside … and becomes ant fodder.

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Then there’re those kinky porcupines.

The male spots a potential mate and promptly pees all over her … looking for a “go ahead signal” from her!

Okay … scientists explain it away as a “pheromone thing” which helps her determine if he’s “worthy.”

I dunno about you … but that just sounds like a “Trump Moscow Thing” to me!

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So I’m glad I’m a human male and don’t have to deal with “off with my head,” an exploding dick, or what would happen to me if I peed all over my mate … all for the sake of “love.”

Just sayin’ …

FLASH … Sex Toys-R-Us is Closing

It’s bad enough that Toys-R-Us has filed for “Liquidation” … probably closing all 754 of its remaining stores.  But the worst is yet to come!

The phone at Seriously Absurd hasn’t stop ringing with rumors from the Interstate-Truck-Stop–Hotline … apparently “Sex-Toys-R-Us” is following in the kid focused footsteps of Toys-R-Us.

The battle for sex toy supremacy between e-commerce and brick-n-mortar retailing has reached an orgasmic end.

Amazon’s Jeff Beezos prematurely leaked to Wall Street that it’s always been a “secret desire of mine to wipe the filthy sex-shops off our interstate landscape.”

“Our Truck Stops have become the red light districts of America.”

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Meanwhile … with the closing of T-R-U, parents are outraged that they may no longer get to see, touch and feel toys.

One distraught mother wailed, “How will I be able to know if this is the best toy?  Is it durable?  Will it last?  Does it perform as advertised?  I need some experience before I buy a toy.”

“This is really f**king up my Xmas and B’day plans,” a mother of three told Seriously Absurd.  “For a lousy $30 … ten bucks per kid … I could turn ‘em lose in Toys-R-Us all afternoon.”

“The little savages tore everything apart before they made a ‘buy decision.’  That’s the only way to shop!”

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Though the Interstate’s are still humming with trucks … the real humming is coming from the drivers … and it’s all about what’re they’re gonna do when they stop for fuel?

Fill ‘er up and then leave?

“WTF’s going on?” one driver reported to the Absurders.

“Them sex toy stores are as All-American as the food buffet,” said the driver of a huge red Peterbilt.

He went on, “Ain’t nuthin’ better than those canned Del Monte Blue Lake green beans … fresh from the steam tray.  And the creamed chip beef … cain’t beat it!”

Another driver, brandishing his newer model sex doll stated, “If there ain’t no more toys … I ain’t botherin’ tuh stop.  Don’t print mah name … but mah handle’s, ‘Ah Cain’t Git Enuff.’”

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A female driver, jamming her dildo into her rear pocket said, “If these stores go away, how will I really know if this is the best toy?  Is it durable?  Will it last?  Does it perform as advertised?  I need some experience before I buy a toy.”

She continued expressing real fear that if Sex-Toys-R-Us closes all its shops, truck stops could soon join America’s drive-in theaters … abandoned roadside rolling mounds of green Kudzu.

Sad!

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Just sayin’ …

Seriously Stupid is Alive and Well … For Now

 

The “Non-Thinking-Male-Teen-Near-Human-Species” enters the scene … every cell phone’s locked and loaded … set to take a video later placed on YouTube.

An “I dare you!” is uttered from his subspecies admirers and a “Challenge” is accepted.

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It could be …

“The Gallon Challenge” … chugging a gallon of milk, sometimes more … mostly harmless with a lot of vomiting and “laughing over spilled milk.”

“The Cinnamon Challenge” … throwing a heaped spoonful of powdered cinnamon into your mouth … results in a very dry mouth, hacking, coughing, vomiting and risk of inhaling more cinnamon into your lungs than most folks eat in an Airport Cinnabon.

“The Salt and Ice Challenge” … salt down a body part and then ice it and hold tight … results in rapid freezing leading to frost bite and 2nd degree burns … no vomiting but lots of urging on to “feel the pain” … no hand-churned ice cream to enjoy later.

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But this Tide Pods thing … that’s something else.

I think it has to do with guys’ genetic structure and having to prove exactly how stupid we can be … on any given day.

The “Tide Pods Challenge” … like other YouTube challenges, appears to be mostly a young teen male dominated act of stupidity.

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I can understand a toddler grabbing the highly colorful squishy appealing looking detergent pod and biting into it.  That’s what toddlers do … they satisfy innate curiosity … “Oooh, colorful … tactile … in the mouth it goes.”

And there have been ample tragic news accounts of the dangers and consequences.

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But in spite of all these warnings, the aforementioned male-teen-subspecies soon to be scary adult, responds to the dare by grabbing at least one Tide Pods and popping it into his mouth.

Encouraged by screams of glee while forgetting what little brain power is functioning, the male teen chomps on the chemically loaded pod immediately falling on the floor writhing and screaming for relief.

All cell phones are kept tight on the Grand-Idiot-One who will end up on YouTube and ultimately may or may not end up in an ER.

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Thank the gods adults are around … and some think this isn’t a great Challenge.

Tide has taken to social media using New England Patriot’s Rob Gronkowski as a spokesperson … “Gronk” points out that slurping Tide Pods is more stupid than playing in the NFL without your helmet.

YouTube and Twitter have taken down all video and messaging related to the “Tide Pods Challenge.”

Now, if they could just get behind the stupidity of selling automatic military style weapons, we might be okay.

Just sayin’ …

Surprises in the Middle Seat

Just in case you’ve been locked in a closet for a decade or so, let me “jet” you to the seriously absurd consequences of a seemingly benign federal law which allows air travelers to be accompanied by their “BFF Emotional Support Animals” … think cuddly puppy or fluffy kitty.

But the law’s exploded in the laps of travelers making confinement and … “Honey I shrunk the seats” … just the beginning of a travel “cat-ass-trophe.”

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And, guess what?  For a fee … there’s an entire industry that’ll “certify” anything that’s not a plant as your “ESA.”

These greed-mongers created a system that literally has turned “Fly the Friendly Skies” into a high altitude version of the San Diego Zoo … sans cages!

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There was a time when we all had hopes of meeting a “special someone” in the middle seat.  Now, we’re happy if it’s not an 8’ python, 45 pounds of pot-belly pig, or a mini-pony!

Keep it in a carrier in your lap … or in the seat … that’s okay!  But most of these near-psychotic travelers want their ESA to “experience the flight” cage free!

Oh, Flight Attendant, may I switch to the middle-seat, last row by the toilet?

Puh-leese!

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If I’m flying JetBlue I’d be afraid to munch on my free chips or cookies … especially if there’s a frickin’ Capuchin monkey masturbating at me from the middle seat.

I’ve read that there are folks who have ES turtles … they’re okay.

I’d have a tough time with someone’s ES cockroaches … or wharf rats … the big ones with Manhattan addresses.

Apparently there’s one frequent traveler with a large male duck whose photo pops-up online.  The duck wears a diaper and waddles in the center aisle.  Some folks seem to think he’s “kinda cute.”

Me?  I’ll keep my feelings to myself lest someone sic PETA on me.

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I do think we’re missing an important issue here … that’s the emotional trauma for the animal.

Going through security … do they have to sit in the tub and pass through the machine with your electronics?  Someone could shove a pipe bomb down their duck’s gullet.

How long does it take a turtle to waddle through the upright scanner?

How much radiation can our ESA take?

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Where’s PETA when we need them?  They should be camped at the security lines.

I just read about a young traveler who was denied boarding with her ES hamster … you don’t want to know the decision she made.

PETA could have “rescued” it … that’s all I’ll tell you!

Just sayin’ …