America and Thailand have a special connection and I don't mean under age yum yum.
I would say this post could only happen in America but no, its a tale of intelligent American outsourcing.
The new U.S. Passport which will have a clever wee radio-frequency i.d. computer chip in them so the border guards can wirelessly access the info will be made abroad.
The Government Printing Office (GPO) that handles most of the U.S. government's printing needs sends the passport blanks to a company in the Netherlands that won the contract, they smoke some pot and insert the computer chips and then ship them off to Thailand where the radio-frequency i.d. antennas are added.
Don't all you Yanks feel so much safer? Producing these new passports costs the GPO $7.97, which it marks up to $15 to sell to the State Department. The State Department then marks them up to $100 to sell to you the people. Capitalism in action it does my heart good to see yer system working so well, you must be proud. For $100 I'd be wanting some free marijuana and a Thai gurly boy.
It reminds me of the story I did a while back when the 'Free Tibet' flags were being made in China.
What next America on line having help desks in India? oh wait they do. For all I know the help desk could be in Pakistan and some terrorist is able to access my porn sites.
For those with the new passports big brother is watching you and he doesn't have an American accent.
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Thursday 30 October 2008
Made In America
oldknudsen@gmail.com Old Knudsen
Labels: american Passports, gurly boy., yum yum
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8 comments:
Don't forget to build a wall around yerself.
I spent 40 minutes on line with an "American" Company yelling "DID YOU RECEIVE THE INVOICE?" until I realized she actually didn't understand English. Bah.
Americans don't have accents, only the rest of the world does! HA!
Big brother & Uncle Sam can look at my passport radio signals all they want, I'll go to Cuba if I want to, and they can kiss my big ass when I get back home.
Knudsen lay down on a barroom floor,
Having drunk so much he could drink no more;
So he fell asleep with a troubled brain
To dream that he rode on a hell-bound train.
The engine with murderous blood was damp
And was brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp;
An imp, for fuel, was shoveling bones,
While the furnace rang with a thousand groans.
The boiler was filled with lager beer
And the devil himself was the engineer;
The passengers were a most motley crew-
Church member, atheist, Gentile, and Jew,
Rich men in broad cloth, beggars in rags,
Handsome young ladies, and withered old hags,
Yellow and black men, red, brown, and white,
All chained together-O God, what a sight!
While the train rushed on at an awful pace-
The sulphurous fumes scorched their hands and face;
Wider and wider the country grew,
As faster and faster the engine flew.
Louder and louder the thunder crashed
And brighter and brighter the lightning flashed;
Hotter and hotter the air became
Till the clothes were burned from each quivering frame.
And out of the distance there arose a yell,
"Ha, ha," said the devil, "we're nearing hell"
Then oh, how the passengers all shrieked with pain
And begged the devil to stop the train.
But he capered about and danced for glee,
And laughed and joked at their misery.
"My faithful friends, you have done the work
And the devil never can a payday shirk.
"You've bullied the weak, you've robbed the poor,
The starving brother you've turned from the door;
You've laid up gold where the canker rust,
And have given free vent to your beastly lust.
"You've justice scorned, and corruption sown,
And trampled the laws of nature down.
You have drunk, rioted, cheated, plundered, and lied,
And mocked at God in your hell-born pride.
"You have paid full fare, so I'll carry you through,
For it's only right you should have your due.
Why, the laborer always expects his hire,
So I'll land you safe in the lake of fire,
"Where your flesh will waste in the flames that roar,
And my imps torment you forevermore."
Then the cowboy awoke with an anguished cry,
His clothes wet with sweat and his hair standing high.
Then he prayed as he never had prayed till that hour
To be saved from his sin and the demon's power;
And his prayers and his vows were not in vain,
For he never rode the hell-bound train.
Thought I'd give your readers something interesting to read for a change. Sorry, the cut-and-pasted didn't seem to work right.
Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run, Run.
You better run all day
And run all night.
Keep your dirty feelings
Deep inside.
And if you're taking your girlfriend
Out tonight
You'd better park the car
Well out of sight.
Cause if they catch you in the back seat
Trying to pick her locks,
They're gonna send you back to mother
In a cardboard box.
You better run.
Holy crap - it's poetry slam at Knudsen's. Nations, Troll, Madness - whose next?
I would think that most Merkins would feel better knowing that if they ever work up the nerve to actually leave American soil, that thanks to this little chip, there will now be a better than 58% chance of recovering their remains.
Makes ya feel all warm and fuzzy inside donnit?
Donn: Knudsen wears a merkin to hide his sores.
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