The “I Can Write Whatever the Fluck I Want to Because No One is Going to Read This Anyway” Post

 

Happy New Year Fellow Bloggers and WordPress Friends!!!

This is my “I’m the guy that Airport Security will automatically pull out of line and search” look. Except that when I’m waiting in line at a flight departure gate, I never look this happy. Instead I look tense, fidgety and irritated, because everything to do with flying post 9-11 is an ordeal. Beefed up security at airports is a very important and necessary evil these days, and I’d rather have it than not have it, but it still makes flying a major pain in the ass.

And until I smartened up, I used to wonder why I was almost always the guy that Security would pull out of line for extra attention. Gee, could it be that I hadn’t shaved, and that I was wearing very dark, almost opaque sunglasses, and a hat pulled down low on my head, so that even my friends would have trouble recognizing me if they didn’t take a closer look? Could that have something to do with it? Could it have something to do with the fact that I looked like someone trying to hide my identity? Nah!

So you may be wondering why I looked this way when waiting to board a commercial airliner. Well here’s why. Almost every time we fly, we have to get up at some ungodly hour like 3 AM because we have to be at the airport three to four hours in advance of our flight departure time. I don’t deal well with getting up that early, and I never have, so forget about bothering to shower or shave, and since I have a chronic eye strain problem that gets much worse when I’m sleep deprived, my eyes turn ridiculously red. So I’d wear the very dark sunglasses to hide my Cheech & Chong fire engine red eyes, and the hat pulled down low to hide my unshowered and unshaven, scruffy looking appearance.

Which made me look like a fugitive from justice, or a homegrown terrorist, or any other type of person who was trying to hide their face and identity for suspicious and potentially dangerous reasons.

And then in addition to my suspicious appearance, there was my irritated and restless body language, because even under the best of circumstances, I hate waiting in long lines, and my subtly agitated behavior could be interpreted for the fear and nervousness of someone about to do a very bad thing.

And then I’d wonder why I was always the one who was selected to take off my shoes, empty all my pockets, and then get thoroughly felt up by a guy wearing a badge and a TSA uniform. I tried asking for a female security agent for the personal search, because that would have bothered me less, but they wouldn’t go for that, and all I succeeded in doing, was pissing off my wife when she heard me say “Uhm, could I have a woman for this part?” That didn’t get our vacation off to a good start…

But one day I finally wised up and figured it out. One red and bleary eyed, obscenely early morning when we were soon to leave for the airport, I looked at myself in a full length mirror, and I thought ‘Hell, if I worked for Airport Security, I’d definitely want to search someone who looked like me!’

Right after having this revelation, I quickly showered and shaved, and instead of faded blue jeans and a ratty t-shirt, I changed into a nice pair of tan Dockers and a clean, unwrinkled blue Polo shirt. I found some Visine which got most of the red out of my eyes, and I stuffed the dark sunglasses and hat into my carry on bag.

And miracle of miracles, that morning I was able to board a plane without the extra and unwanted attention from security! I still fussed and fidgeted while waiting in line at the departure gate, but instead of looking like an American terrorist, I just looked like a typical American tourist who was sick and tired of running through the airport gauntlet.  Since that morning when dawn broke on my marble head, I’ve never been pulled out of an airport line again.

Years ago, my ex once told me that I was “the dumbest smart guy” that she’d ever known. I hate to admit it, but in some ways, she was right.

Sooo… it’s now been one full month for me blogging here on WordPress, since I started on this past December 1st. It’s been a month well spent, and I like it here. I’ve met some really cool people here, and I’m looking forward to meeting many more of you in 2012.

Here’s to wishing each and every one of you, my fellow WP bloggers and bloggerettes, a healthy, prosperous, and genuinely Happy New Year!

This picture is about seven years out of date, but honestly, we don’t look that much different today. And besides, this is the “I can write whatever the fluck I want to because no one is going to read this anyway” post. I do have a good “John and Yoko” style full frontal nude shot of us that is current, and you should thank me for not using it, just in case you are reading this.

This is our dog Bo, begging for spaghetti! He loves the stuff!

You thought I was kidding, didn’t you… Nope, not at all!

He really DOES love spaghetti! And he goes after it, like a four legged furry fish after a worm!

YUM!!! LOL!

Why did I put pics of our dog’s love of pasta here? Because I can do whatever the fluck I want to, that’s why! In fact, I can do whatever the fuck I want to, too! Except maybe for telling my wife how much I love Tina Fey, because I’ve got plans for her tonight, (my wife) and that would definitely ruin my plans.

Have fun and please be safe this evening, and whatever you do, do it well, and if it feels good, do it repeatedly! That’s my plan. ;-)

 

About Chris Sheridan

I’m a 56 year old guy who is young (and immature) at heart, and I love humor and laughter. Married for 22 years, but still enjoy all the glories of womanhood everywhere, even while dedicated to one woman only - and I hope my wife never finds out about her!
This entry was posted in Humor and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to The “I Can Write Whatever the Fluck I Want to Because No One is Going to Read This Anyway” Post

  1. Sheena says:

    The guy in the glasses looks like he does whatever the fuck he wants and will fight you if you make fun of Jeff Gordon.

    • Yeah! And I’ll really go after anybody who gives me cause to defend Danica Patrick’s honor! Thanks for stopping by Sheena, and Happy New Year! You’re a funny lady, and I mean that in a good way! :-)

  2. Read what??? Ah, yes… airport security. What a joke. And LOVE the last photo of the dog with the spaghetti. Eyes closed in pure ecstacy.

  3. Yes, of course! You may read the word “what” in my blog posts as often as you like. Although I’m sorry if I disappointed you, because the word “what” never makes an appearance in this blog post. (How do you feel about the word “whatever”?) But because I like you, and I think you’re cool, I’ll try to use the word “what” more often in my future posts. And the security in aiports that you’ve been to, must have had a much better sense of humor than WHAT I have encountered, because I have yet to hear them tell any funny jokes.

    That’s the great thing about dogs. They’re so easy to please, and just so grateful for the little things we do to make them happy. It is much more of a challenge for me to me to get my wife’s eyes closed in pure ecstacy, and feeding her strands of cold spaghetti doesn’t work.

    Thanks for stopping by, and Happy New Year! :-)

    • Actually, I was trying to be sarcastically humorous as in “read what post? I don’t see a post…” but it was late – or early depending upon your perspective. So I don’t think my weak attempt at joking was very successful. :( And I had just finished a post which took me about 16 hours of work in creating. So I was a bit fried…. (http://motleynews.net/2012/01/01/2011-in-review-remembrance-of-those-who-passed/)

      In reference to your wife and spaghetti… made me think of the movie “9-1/2 Weeks”. That gave a new meaning as to the purpose of a fridge. :)

      • No no no… Your joke was a sarcastic success, and I enjoyed the humor! I just decided to be a wise ass playing a dumb ass and give you a lame ass reply, because that’s just the way I am sometimes. I can give you my wife’s phone number, and the next time you have 16 hours to kill, she can tell you all about the way I am sometimes, or maybe even much of the time. Lol ;-)

        Ah yes… 9 – 1/2 weeks was icy hot indeed! Mmmm… So now I’ll go check out your link, because I have to see this 16 hour post of yours! :-)

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