Okay, back to my mopey "Arial 14".
So last week, I touched ground in the good 'ol US of A! It was quite a ride and I slept not a wink knowing that just across the ocean was the land of opportunity. Don't get me wrong, I've been to America before, but never in a sense of "moving". Y'see, before, it was more of, "Don't worry, we'll eat these burgers next year. Then you'll really have a taste for them."
Now it's something along the lines of, "Damn, why did I eat so many burgers? I'm never going to eat again."
In the words of GRAND MOM, "Life is like a bad sandwich. You keep taking each bite hoping it'll get better. Next thing you know, you've finished the sandwich."
(You bet I'm bolding that. I expect to see that in the "PonyVerse Yearbook", I wanna see my face plastered over the "Least Likely to Succeed" title bearing my name, "RiPalityPublishing: The Worst Blogger, but a Great AWP.") (Make it happen, mods. Please. We can let it be our little secret. I won't tell anyone I bribed you.)
(If you couldn't tell by now, it's great to be back)
SO! What's new in America compared to Jampam? Sizes, people, ghetto, technology (a slight demotion), and, of course, the first thing I see while greeted into this great country:
BAD AIRPLANE SECURITY
(Talk about kicking 2017 off with an exciting one. . . a rant about air-marshals)
So what's so bad about American security? Well, the first thing is where to begin. . .
Y'see, the problem with America is that for some reason we have this strange philosophy where in order to simplify something, we have to over-complicate it first. And with a herd of fumbling Americans "RushB"-ing through the lines, it gets very, very messy. So how do you complicate something as simple as a line? Aren't customs supposed to be a "get from Point-A to Point-B without getting your toothpaste stolen"? Not in America (save for the toothpaste part). Nope! Here's how they have it set up:
Firstly, separate the lines into two; one for priority (which is bogus since no one uses it) and other being the economy skrubs (like me). Whichever line you take doesn't matter because you'll always get lost in the heat of customs.
Second, split the two lines again into four different x-ray machines. Sure, that sounds simple enough on paper. More machines equals faster progress, right? Ehh . . . not when you've got a lot of extra crap being separated from the luggage just so they can do a "security check".
Now, everything up to this point is rather straight forward. You follow lines, get caught in a bit of lag, what's the deal? Y'see, if you've ever been in the gaming affair long enough, you'll learn about a little something called, "RNG", or "Random Number Generator"; it determines random hit ratios, health points, to critical hits (Don't worry, I just looked it up). Why am I bringing this up? Because only at American airports do they have, "RIB", which, of course, stands for: "RANDOM INSPECTION BULLSHNIKIES". (Seriously, what else?)
I usually comply with the terms of the officials, but today was something a little different. That was my last flight leaving from Aussie, Texas and it was scheduled to leave approx. 15 minutes after our previous flight landed. So we were in a bit of a rush and getting through security wasn't on our list of priorities.
Fun fact: My father, about seven or so years ago, gave me this nifty little external hard drive that I still use to this day. On the back, however, is the coolest part. It's got this two-inch green sticker that reads: "This medium is unclassified U.S. Government Property". How cool is that?
So as we're sprinting through the lines, I noticed one thing odd. The security guard operating the x-ray, pulls aside my prized gift: Desktop 6.0 (My new laptop). At that moment, my head was spinning. What's wrong with my laptop? Do I stash weed in my sleep? What kind of "hazards" do my 2015-built HP productivity laptop have that someone else's doesn't?
We were held up for quite a while. I had to ask one of the "officers" why my laptop was "stolen". His answer?
"It's been selected for a random check"
Here's where the harddrive comes in. Y'see, I'm a really big wire-carrier. If you see me carrying a backpack, chances are, it's got about 5 pounds of wires and other electronics. (Always gotta be prepared, amiright?)
And just behind my laptop, ON THE SECURITY BELT, was a big 'ol, green crate of wires (all from me), with that silly little hard-drive (suspicious as it is) and enough copper-wire to build me a taser. Did they touch it? Nope! They didn't even look at it. But of course, they go for the laptop, the only thing that "looks" suspicious enough for a random check. I don't know if they're going by numbers, or by pure dumb luck; but they really should consider a better way of playing RN-Jesus.
When we finally arrived at the hotel, it turns out they inspected my baggage for "hazardous materials" as well. At least they folded my clothes.
I realized I've written 5 MLPForum pages of these blog entries; Happy New Year, everypony! (I'm still trying to find the photos for the 5k special. At that time, it'll probably be 6k. Rip me.)