I'm talking to you goddamn teabaggers too.
I'm saying it's not enough to get the government off of our backs and keep them from stealing our wallets. It's time to get these perverts out of our pants.
I don't know if you are aware of the latest wrinkle in the Chinese manufactured gaberdines of Homeland Sekurity since the unholy anti-American birthing of the Patriot Act — the latest refuge of scoundrels — but closeted bull dykes in TSA costumes are now allowed to feel up your grandma if she decides to avoid the tumor-inducing radiation in full-body scans that produce immodest images that are temporarily stored on server farms in Belarus as part of the agreement the former First Idiot signed after looking deep into the eyes of his butt buddy Vladimir The Implant Putin.
OK, so maybe some of my concerns are overstated and exaggerated, but I'm not particularly thrilled at the prospect of having some standard issue Republican voter caressing my scrotal sac under the pretense of finding out whether I'm wearing an explosive Trojan that is ribbed and lubricated for your viewing pleasure.
So even though I wasn't planning to go anywhere this Thanksgiving, I have just purchased a round-trip ticket to Greenville-Spartanburg, South Carolina, to participate in National Opt Out Day on November 24.
The idea is simple: refuse to submit to the full body scan and demand that you receive the newly approved grope and grab in front of all the other potential Auschwitz reality show contestants lined up for their turn.
Let them see what it's like to surrender all dignity and all hope in exchange for the illusion of freedom and security. You can be a stooge or a role model for the resistance, and don't give me that shit about not rocking the boat. Even the French had the balls and the sanity to resist.
Happy Thanksgiving.