Aug. 22nd, 2005

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Whenever I go through customs, or just airport security in general, I have to physically restrain the urge to say things that will get me in trouble. My internal giggliness at the prospect of again spoiling my nieces and nephews only made it worse.

When I was going through Kuwait, they had a special ceremony celebrating the 250,000th person going on R&R from Iraq and Afghanastan. Inspiring, or something. We missed lunch for it, but got some almost edible cake out of the deal. Going through Hamburg, we got a morale-boosting song-and-speech routine from a chaplain, that was actually funny. I had a moment of stark despair when I saw a soldier, in uniform, playing a shoot-em-up arcade game, and firing the gun retard... I mean, "Gangsta" style. There's just no excuse for that.

Going through the Atlanta airport was somewhat annoying. If there's one group of people who can be guaranteed not to have bombs in their boots, it's soldiers on leave. So why did we all have to take our boots off, huh? And you know what else? People who just stand there on escalators? They deserve to be bludgeoned about the head and shoulders. Some of us have places to go, and you people are just in the way. Unless you require a cane to walk, there is no excuse to rest your lazy rear while I'm trying to walk up the escalator.

Ah, but it was all worth it, 'cuz now I'm here to spoil my nieces and nephews. Tomorrow I'l take them out to the movies, and then Books-a-million, and then to the toy store. My niece Laura is as completely adorable in person as her pictures led me to believe. Ah, munchkins...

"Don't worry about rough handling the luggage, Pedro's a tough little guy."

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