What happened with The Shirt

Some of you have asked what happened when i wore the infamous TSA protest shirt. Well, i burned the iron-on when applying the statements on the back of the shirt so there was an ugly brown cast beneath the words that somehow took away from the righteous indignation of the sentiments expressed. in other words, it was ugly. but you could read it. I did a better job on the front although the iron on had a stiffer plasticey texture than the shirt which made the shirt even more ill-fitting than it already was (which is why it was slated to be ironed on in the first place) causing some unflattering puckering at the boob line. V immediately pointed this out as i presented the final product to him and my niece, also traveling the next day, but not nearly as concerned about the growing american police state as manifested in TSA xray scanners and pat downs as i was. I was pleased that she knew the upside down flag was not a dissing of the flag itself, but the universal symbol of a country in distress. i was confident others would know this too.

I wore a jacket over the shirt, but you could see the upside down flag and the TSA: Training Submissive Americans part. On the MARTA train down to the airport i had a few curious glances but i could not compete with the fella who had stapled his own protest cardboard sign to a mesh ball cap which raged on about the "leo day care center". When, in a foolish attempt at rebel camaraderie,  i asked him what his hat meant he said he didnt know, glared at me, and got up and moved to another seat.

"very nice, peanut" commented V as he jiggled along deeply focused on his iphone screen.

At the terminal most people were engrossed in their own pitiful lives so my shirt did not draw any looks or comments until we reached the security gates. then it got more interesting. there were 3 nekkid body scanners installed -but all of them were cordoned off. so - i wouldnt have to opt out after all, which was fine by me, but now i was worried that my shirt was too much for the occasion. would i be pulled out of line and subjected to a search by the lady prison warden from the movie "seven beauties?". When i took off my jacket and the burnt statements of ben franklin, thomas jeffereson and bob marley were exposed i began to hear comments behind me.

"look at that shirt" was about the extent of it.

there was a trio of girls behind me that i could hear talking about it so i turned around and showed them the front.

"do you agree with this?" said i, as i watched their eyes finish the last of the statement.

"yes!" they replied emphatically which meant they agreed or were scared to not agree with ms. crazytown.

I beamed with triumph. V smirked and gave an amusement snort.

the TSA goon who waved me through the scanner either:

a. did not read my shirt
b. was not offended by my shirt
c. had an IQ of 72

Later I had several people give me the thumbs up or say "right on" or whatever. On the tram ride to my terminal a lady studied my shirt for a long time and then looked at me and frowned. i winked at her and gave her an air kiss. she looked away quickly. Later, on the plane as i was buckling in, someone tapped on my shoulder and asked me if they could see the shirt -having not been able to get it all as i walked down the isle to my seat. I stood up, stretched it out from my body so it was more readable, and what followed was a healthy discussion on "what this really is". I was sad that a few of the people in the conversation actually think this degree of intrusion is acceptable to keep us safe -whatever "safe" is.

When we arrived at our motel -and it was an old school motel -not hotel (which i could write an entire post on V's dissatisfaction with the accommodations) i threw the shirt in the trash. V was relieved. I warned him not to be too excited because it wouldnt be the last of my protest shirts, but i was determined to find a more artful and professional way to execute it. screenprinting. thats the ticket.

As might have been expected, on the flight back, we were delayed on the tarmac for almost 40 minutes. each passing second of recycled plague air ramped up my general anxiety over getting a cold and dammif i didnt get a freaking cold! And i am pretty sure i have a fever too because i just woke from a dream where i lived in a high rise apartment with a trio of women (was it the gals from the security line?) who had pink hair that looked like the recent icing swirls i had piped onto to devils food cupcakes and shiny white go-go boots. for some reason, we were using those metal fire escape stairs to get to our apartment. the girl in front of me had something ironed on to the ass part of her string bikini pants. my brain was in overdrive trying to make out the image while also making sure to not take a misstep and fall 12 stories down to my death. finally it came to me. It was the face of the ugliest guy on the old show F-Troop - though it was hard to make out due to the repeated washings the panties had endured.

Burning bright before you i swear this is true.



Blogger Big Shamu said...

I can't believe you threw it away, it should have been auctioned off for posterity.

See these are the dreams that happen when you take the antibiotics that you took. A sudden urge to sniff another's tail.

6:53 AM  
Blogger K9 said...

the distinction between dog and people antibiotics revealed. i never took more than the one.

7:32 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Rotty Polls! Cool.

I vote for:

1) They were afraid of lady from crazytown.


3) TSA Goon had IQ of 72.


2) The dream means that you aspire to be Empress of Crazytown.


7:55 AM  
Anonymous Master Basho said...

Prepared for cold March
to Heart's Field with protest sign:
Free the Rottweiler!

8:20 AM  
Blogger fishy said...

the description of you and V on the way to the airport could lead a reader to assume this was an opposites attract marriage. Hum.

Your V would not want to travel with me. I will take the old Florida cinderblock motel at the beach vintage vacation over the new boutique hotel-spa where you have to get dressed in designer cover-ups and snatch every hair off you body to walk through the lobby. Hum.

About the protest shirts. I am sure you could have sold this to a high bidder. Also, if what you really want to do is silk screen art and tees .... could you please make an offer to Blowfish? He owns both a printing press and a silk screening press! Plus there's about 4000 pounds of lead type in multiple fonts creaking the attic boards. Hum.

10:40 AM  
Blogger Karl said...

Good afternoon K9,

I look forward to the future versions.

Sorry about the cold. One of the worst parts of travel is all the things you get to share. Whether dog or human, once you start an antibiotic finish all of it.

11:48 AM  
Blogger Boxer said...

First, next time you need a TShirt: Zazzle.com.

Anytime I hear V call you "Peanut" makes me smile.

Good for you for making the shirt and then actually following through with wearing it and taking responsibility for wearing it. I'm impressed.

Finally: To answer the Poll:

1. Looked at the shirt.
2. Their IQ of 72 means they couldn't actually READ the shirt.

xoxo. Please get well.

6:50 PM  
Blogger puerileuwaite said...


Man oh man, do I ever miss the days of unflattering puckering at the boob line ...

8:20 PM  
Blogger dr.alistair said...

i couldn`t imagine the thoughts i would have in regard to passing through one of those scanners.

i don`t fly and have no plans to do so in the near future...thankfully.

this intrusion into privacy is just another in the series of inductions into learned futility we are exposed to on a daily basis through media and communication with government.

humiliation is a social disorting mechanism which erodes adult thinking processes, like wearing a backless paper gown in the hospital so you won`t wander around or ask questions of nurses or doctors.

i used to be disgusted, now i`m just amused.

and i`m not an elvis costello fan in any way, it was just a great line form one of his songs that sums up my feelings toward modern society sucking whatever wrinkled tit it can for comfort while the band plays on.

how about that for a mixed metaphor!

i guess i`m still disgusted.

6:08 AM  
Blogger dr.alistair said...

oh yeah and well done for at least showing some irritation at being stripped naked for morons to stare at just so you can travel.

they need a pushback.

a good travel boycott would help.

6:10 AM  
Blogger Aunty Belle said...

sigh...what I wouldn't give for a million more jes' like that Rotty Pup! This nation might survive if we had a million, "army of one". Brave chile'.

Karl is RIGHT dawgy...finish the antibiotics or risk a horrific rebound as the strongest bugs survive a three day antibiotic wash, then, those tough bugs are the ones to live on and replicate.

Kudos to V for his good natured go-along.

3:43 AM  
Blogger K9 said...

doctor: i should put this

humiliation is a social disorting mechanism which erodes adult thinking processes

on a t shirt.

well put. i am shocked that i can still be shocked at the pitiful compliance with the most absurd liberty destroying shite ive ever seen. we are gonna get it.

7:49 AM  
Blogger moi said...

I love starting up conversations with strangers, steering them into controversial territory, and watching as their faces and body language grow increasingly alarmed at the prospect that the woman in front of them just might be bat shit crazy. Unless the stranger is really cute. Then I keep the crazy locked up :o)

Oh, and a note to Fishy: all marriages are "opposites attract." :o)

8:28 AM  

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