The Turku Project..."Passing through Customs"

Well, Howdy...

It's me...Doctor Hormone once again, home at last from the frigid northern country of Finland where Tony Diorio and I went off on a mission to discover the meaning of life in the ice capped frozen Nordic North...



We dined on reideer, and befriended some amazing people in Turku, and even had opportunity to sleep through 7 different time zones. This is perhaps a record of sleeping without actually getting a minutes rest. It's just like White Mud though, to sleep all day (eastern standard time zone) and stay up all night (Turku time zone) and even stay up through their time zone and on into our own...At one point I stayed up soo long, I ended up finding myself waking up in the day after tomorrow!



It's still all so overwhelming to me, and it perhaps contributed to my final episode in the last leg of my trip where I found myself in line at U.S. Customs at Miami International Airport.

The Customs Officer I was in line to see was a classic "Fat Ass Clown" with an attutude and dispostion like a Junkie with hemmoriods and a badge, who was in need of a fix. This nasty old fart couldn't muster a smile or a "Hello" if I was a topless Dolly Parton, and he was going out of his way to annoy and bully everyone who passed by his "Hellbooth" for interrogation that day.

I politely stepped up and offered my passport and immigration card (required to be filled out during re-entry into the country) He examined my card for a second and tossed it back at me with an order to fill out another at the back of the line because it was damp with sweat from my handling...Im not making this up.

"Go fill out another one, this one is wet" He said. So I did. but when I got back in line I could feel the gas, from all of the lousy airline food I had eaten all day, building up inside of me. I considered going to the can to vent some air but then I had (What Fadda Ken would call)an Epiphany! I held back and waited painfully, my turn to see him again!

By the time I was up in front of this fat Clown Cop again, I was bloated like a balloon! I had held back all day in my middle seat on flight BA0209 from releasing a dirty bomb. I had been polite. But now, now...was the time.

As Inspector Mulligan took his sweet time studying my passport and re-entry card, I saw the opportunity to show him what "respect" or lack thereof, was all about....

I slowly pinched my butt cheeks together, as hard as I could. Then, I began to push from my abdominal muscle and slowly squeaked out the longest and loudest and smelliest fart I could muster!

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT......
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT.
PHHHHHHHHHHHT.....ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

It was clear to at least he and I, and perhaps the next person in line, that something which is normally socially unnacceptable was occurring. I was dropping a dirty bomb on a U.S. Customs agent, who truly deserved the indignity being visited upon him at this time!

I wondered if I would be arrested. I glanced his way to observe his reaction, all the while pretending that the pain of my "uncontrolled" gastric eruption was involuntary...It wasnt! I rolled my eyes for effect, but I never apologized!

He seemed to accelerate the process as the area around his booth clouded with a blue haze like vapor....I think I saw him tear up slightly. He was a large man but even he...could be made to cry. I was as proud as a White Mudder could be!

I was immediately dismissed with passport in hand and a big smile, knowing that I had exacted vengance on one of the official Homeland Defense Bullshit Bullies appointed by our country.

I plan on doing this as a regular routine everytime I have to pass through U.S Customs, until one of our beloved Congresspersons passes yet another pointless law making it a hate crime to fart in the presence of a US Customs Pig.

Meanwhile, I reccomend that all US citizens who travel abroad, stock up on as much airline food as you can, and hold it in as long as you can until you get in the US Customs line upon your re-entry to the country! I believe that this may be the solution to moving the line along a little faster! Or at least having your payback on these neanderthal morons with a badge and a bad attutude!



Breathe Deep...Piggies!

I Need To Apologize...

Hello my friends...

I need to place an apology here....In recent months I have published some of the most incoherent dribble, with the most incredible amount of typos in any blog in cyber history!

I am ashamed!

I only meant to entertain you, but in my haste, I have often gotten carried away and typed sentences that were so grammatically incorrect, that only The Miami Herald has been worse in the last 6 months.

Part of the problem, is that I often write these blog posts after I have been awake for 18-20 hours. This is because I have a rotten bed! My bed is sooo lousy that i roll arouind for hoirsat a time trying to desparately get dsome stinking sleep, but noooooo! The lousy bed is just a mightmare! Its the worst bed ive ever slpet on....Now you might ask...whell doctor hormone why dont you get a new bed?

Well mr or mrs reader of my blog.....I ALREADYYYY DDDDIIIIIDDD THAAAATTT! THE NEW ONE SUCKS TOOOOOIO! OK?

TGhen second...I lay there with the damn fan blowing amnd blowing anfd blowing and blowing! The family cats who like to sleep in opur bed pwith us shed a lot of hair so while the fsan blows! The damn cat hearir lands on my face and alll freking night, i am laying awake rolling around like a stinking shishkabob on the rotissrie....rollloing androooliiing and rolling! while the damn fan is blowing and blowing and bloweing and blowinng! Then as I wipe away cat hair form my face, and try to find a comfortable sleeping position in my rotten bed, the dog (Cody) comes walking in onto the wooden floor with his long cruddy obnoxious freaking rottren tonalils that sound like a goddamned freigh train when your wrecked on scotch!....

Just about 5 am when the dog has finally laid down and stopped torturing me with his incessant tonail torture walking routine thingy, and I am about to doze off for the 2 hours of sleep i might finally get, the alarm goes off and the wife gets uyp to start making her morning noise! The toilet, the lights, the hairdryer, the animanls then get uop too and it starts all ovir agaain! Arghghghgh!

Its a tough life being sa creative writer! So now yuo can get the sense of where some of the typos come from....

At this time I would like to retract everything Ive ever written, and change my name, but as I understand, that is against the rules! So, instead I would like to take this opportunity to make several corrections that have occurred over the last several months:

April 2 2003: I mauy have said something about a reiuing concert coccurring at the Grande Ballroomn but faile dti mnent[ion that idwas just a joke.

March 7 2004: I remember taling to someone about the possinbil;ity of starting a new job....Im sorryy if zI misse dthat intervioew....call me.

Weell recschgewdule.

July 22 2005: I was in a bad way about someof the rotten weather we have to ecxperianec here in Hell Florida the sphincter mucle of the planet....I may have used some defamatory language against some of my neighbors ( even thought I still hate em!) I am not the one.,,..for the record that turned them in for build ing a n illegal shed in their backyard...It was some omne else.

December 2005: some thime a few monthse ago, I suggested tha ti m ight shoot Cody...I might still do that...that was not a mistake!

Februraryt 2006: I have n,maed numerpouse remarks about the Musim,lims and theire objections to certian carttoonns aboutr the Profit mohaammed whoi was not a cartoon! If i ever infliceted that remarke as if he was in fact a cartoon...he was not and is not and remains today, still not a cratoon....alyjhought from what i read of himn he was a very funnjy guy. He may have wanted to be a cadrtoon.

Well that psiumms up the apolgies for this centruy....I plan not to make any more mistakes for a looonnng tiime!

Tjhsanks for tuning in/