The newest measures in the TSA security theatrics repertoire (x-ray scanners that reveal your naughty bits; a grope and a poke for those who balk at being zapped by radiation) inspired blogger iowahawk to revise a Sinatra tune. (H/T KS) As for moi, I thought I'd try something with more of an island, er, feel:
I can see clearly now,
Your clothes are gone.
I can see no obstacles in my way.
Gone is your chance to hide things
Down your pants.
It's gonna be alright, alright,
We're TSA.
We think it's much safer now
Your briefs are gone.
All you of your dangly bits
Are exposed today.
Here is the pat down
Should you balk or whine.
It's gonna be alright, alright,
We're TSA.
Look all around,
Nothin' but line ups.
Look straight ahead,
"Won't profile" defines us.
We think you can make it now,
Ain't gonna 'splode.
Checked out your shoes, bottles
And junk today.
Next on tap: colonoscopies?
It's gonna be alright, alright,
We're TSA.
Update: Song for Swingin' Kafirs
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