So, I’m passing through the security checkpoint at the mouse fart of an airport in San Jose, CA (coming back from a rather remarkable Under the Radar event)… TSA tells me that my carry-on bag would need to be inspected. I was a bit puzzled, but not shocked – as I decided to store all my electronics in the mini-whale and not check it at the ticket counter.

He tells me that I’m carrying liquid. I was?

I normally check my luggage, so I completely forgot about the small tube of toothpaste (which cost me $47.99 at the hotel mini-bar – a bargain at any price), my lip balm, and my freakin’ can of freakin’ antiperspirant / deodorant. What the freak? Are they freakin’ serious? Yeah, I know – these things should have been in a baggie, but…

Okay. This is how we stop terrorists. Seriously?

I’m just going to check my bag next time, as I should have done tonight (in the first place). The ten minutes I save by not having to wait for baggage to come around on the carousel is simply not worth the hassle of having to chuck products that could apparently take down an entire plane.

And to the guy who was unfortunate enough to sit next to me on the flight, I deeply apologize for all the garlic farts – Brandon was the one who suggested the Macaroni Grill for dinner. I would have popped a few butt mints (great idea – someone needs to fund it) but they were confiscated along with my collection of rare Commemorative Abe Vigoda snow globes (too much liquid, had to abandon at checkpoint).

I come home from the airport, unpack my suitcase, and guess what I find lying underneath all my dirty clothes? A pair of extremely sharp scissors.

I shit you not.

TSA: Transportation Security Administration?