The hippie cottage is empty

The dog-neglecting, 11 pm drum-circling, pot-smoking, non-working, non-rent-paying hippies have moved out FINALLY. If anyone wants to live across from me and Steve in a one-bedroom cottage with a decent sized yard call Uptown Properties at 619-297-7368. The place is clean despite it being occupied by hippies; the primary resident was not a slob.

In which I am molested by the TSA

Just because I tell you that you can touch my cooch doesn't mean much when the option is to violate my military orders.

The commuter terminal only had the naked machines today, so I opted out, especially in light of the fact that the TSA recently admitted that the radiation emitted by the machines is higher than previously thought, and they don't know *how* high it is. GREAT! Hey, let's make sure pregnant women get a good ol' dose of x-rays with no protection over their uteroi.

So I opted out. The TSA does not like it when you do this. I put my hands on my head because I figured I was supposed to and things went downhill from there. I told the supervisor she had my permission to violate my 4th Amendment rights and sure to form she said I'd given up my rights by passing the checkpoint. The patdown was fairly professional, but they do feel your crotch and around your breasts.

Then they thanked me for my service and oh yeah, that's when I went off with, "Yes, *I* defend freedom! You don't!" What the hell are they thinking?

I did not swear at them, call them names or anything. I did bring up the Constitution because I've sworn to defend it against all enemies, foreign and domestic. They are the domestic enemy mentioned in my oath.