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Hell Yes, I'm Racial Profiling!

A guest Probeatorial by
Sheriff Carl Theodore Brookline

Don't give me your bleeding-heart grief. I'm stopping anyone with an Islamist look. Why? Because I work security at an airport, you jackass. Oh, short-term memory shot again because of the month you lived on nothing but pot brownies at Berkeley? Well, let me remind you of a few hijacked passenger planes flown into a few crowded buildings not yet even a few years ago. And don't get started on that "racist" chant, you pansy. If I worked as a traffic cop in Oklahoma City, I'd be pulling over every goofy-ass redneck in a Ryder truck. If I was a forest ranger in Montana, I'd question every sorry loner with a typewriter. If I worked for the SEC, I'd pin your starched shirt against the wall until you coughed up the $20 million, you inside-trading bastard.

Are you telling me I should search the shoes of the 4-year-old daughter of blond midgets from Norway rather than the 28-year-old bearded and unshowered guy with a prayer necklace and a tattered, temporary passport from Bulgaria? It's not so much racial profiling as it is who-the-fuck-is-likely-to-blow-up-this-plane-profiling. So stop bitching at me about how "This isn't America anymore" and start to save us a bit of time by remembering that the fucking cell phone your blabbering into is, indeed, going to set off the metal detector.

You fucking idiots.

(Transcribed by Mark Schmidt)

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