Friday, August 5, 2011

Passport Problems

This just in: The Philadelphia Eagles have signed the 44th President of the United States of America, Barack Obama.

Why not? They've got everybody else. Realistically, it would probably have the same results as the Denver Broncos drafting Tim Tebow. Yeah, he'll sell a lot of jerseys and be really popular, but if you put him in a close game, he'll buckle under the pressure, hand the ball off to the other team, personally deliver a signed copy of your playbook to the opposing coaches after he gets back to the bench and then he'll sign a deal that guarantees his team will lose.

I don't discriminate when it comes to politics anymore: I hate everyone. At this point I'd be willing to vote for a ticket with Roger Goodell and DeMaurice Smith, because while it may take them some time to solve a problem, it does eventually get done. Perhaps they would force Ben Bernanke to pack his bags and give his spot to Bill Belichick. The Hoodie can squeeze a nickel until the buffalo craps, and I guarantee you that guy will not pump a penny into the economy unless he feels it is absolutely necessary. Defense spending will finally be cut and offensive players will be picked up based on value instead of being grossly overpaid. Maybe that team would stabilize the economy in such a way that I wouldn't have to worry about the stock market sinking 500 points in one day and dropping to its knees faster than a Waffle House waitress when Tiger Woods walks through the door. I bet if that goon squad was running the show, I wouldn't have been denied a passport.

Copyright 2014, Travis Ross (Simple Man's Survival Guide)
My passport request was initially denied.
A few months ago my wife booked a cruise that will temporarily take us outside the friendly confines of the U.S. later this year. Because I've never had a passport, I made my way down to the local postal office and spent one hour filling out a five page application that covered everything from where I was born to where I lost my virginity. I submitted the form, paid my money, gave them my official birth certificate and moved along, expecting to get a passport in the mail a few months later.

However, I got an e-mail from the passport office stating that the information I provided was insufficient and they needed to conduct an anal probe, followed up by an interrogation under a heat lamp while wearing a Heretic's Fork, followed by a waterboarding session before they could grant me a passport. I had to fill out another seven pages worth of questions detailing every location I have ever lived, every school I have ever gone to, every place I have ever worked and every building I have ever farted in. Determined not to be rejected, I provided so much information I almost couldn't fit all of the paperwork into the over sized envelope they provided and had to use a small box. I almost took my wife's advice and put a dollop of ketchup and another dollop of mayonnaise on the paperwork, circled each of them and wrote "Blood" beneath the ketchup and "Semen" beneath the mayo. Oh, don't make a noise like I'm the sick one. You know that when you're in a restaurant and you send a steak back for the second time that there's a 90 percent chance some 17-year-old is going to do something the Devil himself would not approve of to it. Well, the same rule swings into effect when you request more information from someone who has already done everything but supply a stool sample and walk into a private room with a dirty DVD and a cup to make you happy. If I knew that I would get to see the look on the prick's face who opened that letter, I would have done it, but as it was, I already had enough questions surrounding my allegiance to this country. And after everything I've gone through, I can say with a high level of certainty that if people from outside of this country knew how hard it would be to get back out, Canada would have a higher population.

On second thought, that's a waste of quality ketchup and mayo that will be better served on a hamburger while I'm busy watching the St. Louis Rams get railroaded yet again, waiting for my passport to come in the mail.

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