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Monday, October 10, 2016

Good morning crew,

I never have any luck with airports. It seems like no matter where I go or what line I get in, I'm always selected for additional screening, or I'm setting off the alarm, in which case I get additional screening. And as anyone who's been through the airport in the last 15 years or so knows, additional screening means they want to put you in the microwave.

Sure as shootin' when we got to O'Hare right at the beginning of our trip a few weeks ago, I set off the alarm and got waved over by the airport security guy.

Now, since I'd still like to have kids at some point in the future I never go in the microwave machine, and that really annoys the guys in the white shirts.

The frustrated looking little man who waved me over tried to talk me into it.

"You know it's perfectly safe, right?" he asked me.

"Are you an engineer?" I asked him.


"How about a medical doctor?"


"Then you don't know, do you?"

He just stared at me for a second and then screamed in my face, "Opt out!"

After staring at each other in uncomfortable silence for about two years, an extremely bored looking man with greased back hair and a goatee walked over to us while snapping on a pair of latex gloves and asked his cohort who was still holding me prisoner with his beady little eyes, "Is this the one?"

After getting an affirmative, Dr. Feelgood lead me off to the side and put on a Barry White record.

"Just relax now," he said. "Everything's gonna be aaaaalright."

Five humiliating minutes later I walked over to where my wife and in-laws were still laughing at me and found my shoes, belt, carry-on, and what was left of my dignity sitting on a little metal table.

I hopped up on the table and put my shoes back on while my wife asked me if I got a phone number.

Shrugging off her crass attempt at humor I soon had everything back in order and hiking my carry-on bag on my shoulder I turned to head down the concourse. That's when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around I found yet another annoyed-looking man in a white shirt.

"That table's not for sitting," he said.

"What table?" I asked.

"That table," he said, hiking his thumb over his shoulder at the little metal table 15 feet behind us.

"I'm not sitting on it," I told him.

"Yeah, but you were!" he concluded, trapping me in his irrefutable web of logic.

"You chased me down the concourse to tell me that? What do you want me to do about it?"

"Just so you know," he warned me in a threatening tone. "Just so you know."

I really wish I were making that story up, but that is the kind of drum-tight security you can expect at Chicago airports.

Laugh it up,


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"Over the weekend, a 102-year-old woman got herself arrested so she could check that off of her bucket list. Now, it all seems like a cute story until you learn that the arrest was for triple homicide." -Conan O'Brien


"Two guys in New Hampshire were arrested after they tried to rob a group of people playing Bingo. Cops became suspicious when they saw a car driving away from the Bingo hall going more than 10 miles an hour." -Jimmy Fallon


"A study has found that some people can suffer symptoms of withdrawal when they are forced to stay away from social media sites. This is why I'm not even on Facebook. I update my high school yearbook manually with a pen." -Jimmy Kimmel


A man and his friend were exiting a drugstore and at the front door there was a scale.

"Look, a scale," the man said to his friend. "Let's see how my new diet is working out."

He stepped on the scale.

"I can't believe it!" he said as he read the result. "I've been on this diet for two weeks but the scale says I'm heaver than I was before! How can that be?"

He pondered this as he stepped off the scale, then had a thought. He took off his jacket and handed it to his friend. "Here, hold my jacket," he said.

The friend took the jacket as the man stepped back on the scale.

Not much change.

"Here," he said as he handed his purchase from the drugstore to his friend. "Hold my Twinkies too."

*-------------- Guaranteed to Roll Your Eyes --------------*

The elevator in our building malfunctioned one day, leaving several of us stranded. Seeing a sign that listed two emergency phone numbers, I dialed the first and explained our situation.

After what seemed to be a very long silence, the voice on the other end said, "I don't know what you expect me to do for you; I'm a psychologist."

"A psychologist?" I replied. "Your phone is listed here as an emergency number. Can't you help us?"

"Well," he finally responded in a measured tone. "How do you feel about being stuck in an elevator?"

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