My! Brain! Hurts!

All morning, I had "How Great Thou Art" stuck in my head. Now it has been replaced by "Electric Avenue".

stolen

I don't know.

You used to be able to board a plane with out a strip search. A cavity search. An MRI, a DNA sample matched against a list of every list, a lawyer - and a note from your mom.

The stewardess handed me a toga.

"Did the rules change again?"

"No," she replied, "all passengers still must fly naked. However, for your convenience, a toga is provided just in case."

"Just in case what?"

"Just in case we are instructed from Homebound Security that it's safe to let you wear clothing once again."

So, I thought, "what if I were to wad this paper piece of shit into a ball and bean it at the back of somebody's head?"

Suddenly a systems analyst from Syracuse put me in a headlock. While a frequent flyer from row seven grabbed my ding-dong, a little old android from Pasadena began beating me with her cane.

"How did you get that in here?" the stewardess asked, snatching away her walking stick. The ancient 'droid crumbled to the tarmac in a heap of stained wires, paper mache and protoplasm.

A siren screamed and every plane in North America was grounded.

by Jeff Worman, The Press