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)