Terror Alert: IRS

In a rather rare showing of unasked for enterprise, the Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security has released a second terror alert during the month of May.  Upon reading the Cheetos-stained scrap of paper that was slipped out from beneath the locked door of their Command Center (an attic room that we keep them locked in for their own protection, as well as ours),  I couldn't help but note the timely nature of their warning.  Well, not exactly timely, unless of course you measure timeliness based on when Congress finally gets off of their fat behinds and tries to do its job about something that everyone else has know about for over a year; but I just figured that like the President, they just finally got around to reading about the issue in the papers.

I guessing that by now some of you may have already figured out what's coming here ... a special alert regarding a group of federal government bureaucrats who are making everyone in this country's life a living Hell.  No, I'm not talking about Department of Homeland Security or the Environmental Protection Agency (though Lord only knows I could be); but instead about pernicious pack of pencil pushers known as the IRS.  Surprisingly enough, this is not to be confused with the Internal Revenue Service (though they are certainly an organization made up of poisonous pond scum ...  Oh crap, now I'm going to get audited), but an even more corrupt crowd within the mindless minions of the unelected elite, the Insidious Reprisal Syndicate.

These deceitful bureaucratic bastards actually have their hooks into most of the federal bureaucracy, and are largely responsible for attacks on citizens in this country who refuse to lie down quietly and do what they are told when instructed by those far wiser than they in government service tell them to.  Drain a mosquito-infested pond to protect you children from blood-sucking parasites (no, not the Internal Revenue Service again) spreading disease and they will be the ones taking you to court to make you refill (and restock) it.  Turn a parking lot into a green space (or vice versa) and they will contact you to perform a site restoration.  Attempt to move jobs to another state (let alone country) in order to provide lower costs goods and services to the public and they will work their will to prevent it.  Seek to create jobs in any state in this country, and they will be the ones reprimanding you over violation of arcane regulations in the massive document known as the Federal Register that prevent you from doing so.  And of course, try to start a tax-exempt group to teach the Constitution written to define and limit the government to a nation that has mostly long since forgotten it and a bureaucracy which simply seeks to ignore it, and they will be there to stall the paperwork.

What's amazing in this particular alert is that the government has already somehow managed to correctly identify the perpetrators in the Internal Revenue Service in this case, as low level employees in the bureaucratic maze who acted in such a horrifying fashion without instruction from management, without written guidelines (in triplicate) to follow, and without the knowledge of managers at any level in their respective bureaucracy.  We know this of course, because no one certainly at the managerial level, the senior staff level, or certainly not at the cabinet level itself, would allow such a blatant violation of the First Amendment, nor an obvious politicizing of the bureaucratic process to knowingly occur ... let alone condone it.  (Sarcasm, you decide.)  In fact, this secret society of depraved drones has once again so successfully managed to work their evil will on Conservative groups, that their efforts have mostly escaped current Congressional inquiry, testimony before Congress by the acting Internal Revenue Service Director (acting in fact, seems to have multiple meaning where this job is concerned), and an internal Inspector General audit (which was only able to conclude that no government funds were misused any more than normal by the departmental employees committing these egregious acts).

Not surprisingly, the DJBSS was unable to provide any identifying characteristics for members of the IRS, which of course is exactly the point of their existence.  Outwardly they are just as inconsiderate, smug, and unproductive as any other nameless, faceless bureaucratic drone, so they are well able hide amongst other innocently bungling brethren at will.  They seldom achieve (by choice) either notoriety or guilt.  Having burned off their fingerprints as part of a particularly gruesome initiation ritual, they never leave evidence behind.  Their particularly destructive actions however, eventually come to light.  (Some say that this is on purpose, and acts as a sort of 'Kilroy Was Here' signature for them.)  Like a rotting corpse, at some point the sickening smell of their misdeeds gives them away.  Strangely however,  their transgressions seldom lead to  anything beyond a few weeks of newspaper headlines and a string of meaningless Congressional investigations that allow the Committee Chairman and a few other members to grab some posturing, camera time, and cheap headlines in the political lull before seeking campaign contributions for their next re-election bid.

Because of the particularly bloody trail that these vile, villainous vandals leave in their wake (sorry, I was having a "V is for Vendetta" moment), the DJBSS is raising the terror threat for the couple of days until the inconsequential hearings in Washington can resume to RED.
        

     

June Terror Alert: DADS

June is already fast upon us, and while the heat of summer begins to climb, the Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security (DJBSS) continues in its tireless efforts to root out potential terrorists threats in this nation. (Though personally I think they're happy to stay locked in their Command Center since we had a new air conditioning unit installed last week.)   And while they continue to be given little in the way of credit for what many consider to be nonsensical labors at best (and even less in terms of financial remuneration), most concede that their efforts have thus far proven as effective, if not more, as threat protection for this nation than their TSA 'mall cop' counterparts at airports around the country.

The threat assessment slipped out from under the locked door of their Command Center today (an attic room that we keep them locked in for their own protection, as well as ours) is indeed a serious one, and not particularly surprising if you remember that for May. While I was hoping that any danger recognized by the DJBSS would hold off at least long enough for me to celebrate my Irish Twin's birthday; it was obvious once I had read the Cheetos-stained Post-it note that proper notification of the general public was essential.  In fact, with Father's Day just a week away their effort is a particularly timely one indeed, warning of the annual appearance of a rather despicable group of ne'er do wells ... DADS.  

Obviously we're not talking about the wise and loving male progenitors that we've long come to know from TV's "Father Knows Best" or "The Courtship of Eddie's Father" (Did anyone else ever wonder about the ramifications of  Eddie's father also being the Hulk?), nor can we really be said to be speaking about the equally loving but far more sarcastic versions typified in "The Cosby Show" or even "Home Improvement".  In fact these reproductive reprobates may be the only people on the planet with less or worse parenting skills that the Jon Cryer and Charlie Sheen characters on the original "Two and a Half Men".  

Disinterested Adolescent sperm Donors Society are in fact members a group of malicious malefactors almost as amazing as they are detestable.  One is never certain whether to be more  astonished in the proof that they possess the required hardware necessary for the reproductive act to be consummated, or appalled that they've somehow they've convinced a member of what's usually the more intelligent gender of the species to participate in any act that might result in offspring. 

Often calling their erstwhile partners "baby mommas", they seem as concerned about the results of sharing their seed with these unfortunate females as they would in sharing the flu.  (Not surprising, exposure to these "baby daddies" can result in flu-like symptoms for those involved that include: a light fever, general nausea, upset stomach, vomiting, and diarrhea.)  No one knows what dangers long-term exposure to these double-dealing frauds might result in, as they seldom remain around long enough with the woman in question to provide the option for study.

While these DADS call themselves adolescents, they in fact come in all ages, with the descriptive term having apparently more to do with their inability to grow up and take adult (let alone parental) responsibility for their procreative activities.  And while many feel that DADS cannot be counted on for anything, the facts show that they can usually be counted on to contribute little of nothing in the way of financial support or to participate little if at all in the raising of their often scattered offspring.

Perhaps the only positive that they contribute to posterity is through their standard practice of abandonment, which provides the best hope that none of these traits will be passed on to their male descendants.  Raised in single mother homes (often with the support of other family members) or as part of a later amorous relationship on the part of the mother, the best hope of these children is that the contributor of half of their genetic code will remain long forgotten.   

DADS can be easily identified by:

*  An ego greater than would be expected based on their appearance or intelligence
*  An inflated belief in their sexual prowess
*  An expensive wardrobe or car (usually purchased with money they refused to spend on the support of their offspring)
*  A reticence to speak about family, especially with regards to children
*  A tendency to denigrate the women with which they were in previous relationships with  
*  The number of phone calls they receive from irate women at all hours of the day and night

Since DADS are not so much of a threat as they are a scourge and a taint on the principles of respectable fatherhood, the terror threat for June will therefore only be raised to Yellow.  The DJBSS wanted to use Brown to properly call out these shits (not to be confused with SHITS), but instead settled on the only color which properly describes the cowardice exhibited by these bastards (pun intended) with respect to their parental responsibilities.

May Terror Alert: MOTHERS

May is hard upon us, and while many look forward to the relaxation of these warmer months, the Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security (DJBSS) continues in its tireless efforts to root out potential terrorists threats in this nation. (Though it appears that they are currently only tireless because they ran out of decaf and had to use the real stuff while making the copious quantities of Irish coffee they continuously consume.)   And while they have been given little in the way of credit for what some consider to be their nonsensical labors (and even less in terms of financial remuneration), it must at least be conceded that their efforts have thus far proven more effective as threat protection for this nation than their TSA 'mall cop' counterparts at airports around the country.

The threat assessment slipped out from under the locked door of their Command Center today (an attic room that we keep them locked in for their own protection, as well as ours) is indeed a serious one, in spite of the fact that it appears to be covered in Cheetos crumbs (they have recently insisted on the 'Flamin' Hot' ones). In fact they are warning us just in time of the impending once a year appearance of a particularly insidious group of miscreants ... MOTHERS. 

Do not be deceived into believing that they are for one moment talking about those wonderful female progenitors who served tirelessly, wiping our butts as babies, our noses and foreheads as children each and every time that illness beset us, and our tears to this very day as life's trials and tribulations attempt to overcome us.  This group is in fact the antithesis of their venerable namesake: Malicious and Obnoxious Troublemakers who Hate Everything Regarding maternal Sentiment.  

Rumor has it that many of the members of this particularly evil little bunch ne'er-do-wells in fact never had mothers of their own and that they were in fact created in a under-funded government research project, performed at a long since de-certified junior college.  (Some hint that it wasn't a junior college at all, but in fact 'The Wanda Trossler School of Beauty'.)  If the bulk of these rumors are in fact correct, their mothers were apparently little more than dirty test tubes manufactured in a factory built on a toxic waste site in China (allegedly right next to where the current I Pad factory is today).  The government of course vehemently denies these claims, stating firmly and for the record that: "There has never been any such thing as a under-funded government research project."

Showing the twisted Jealousy one might expect for those around them not produced as part of yet another of these failed experiments (a project allegedly called 'It Takes A Village'), and provided with years of the kind of efficient mothering that only 24 hour per day government assistance could provide, they have now dedicated their very existence to a program designed to denigrate that which they will never know in methods so twisted that even Stephen King hasn't thought of them (yet).

Of course you've all seen them out there over the years.  They're the ones who always insisted on jumping off the bridge, just because everyone else did.  They're the ones who always put their elbows on the table, stubbornly refused to drink their milk (or Ovaltine or Tang for that matter) and who scoffed at claims that starving children around the world would gladly eat the vegetables that they had turned their noses up at.

They're also the ones, by the way, who spend far too much time these days on the late afternoon talk shows, decrying the role of motherhood as something only fit for women unable or unwilling to pursue a more satisfying professional career (mostly because, male or female, they are those least likely to find someone willing to participate in reproductive behavior with).  They are also those whose career in fact seems to involve writing scripts for what are considered 'hip' sitcoms about women who look down their noses at those they consider 'chained by the bonds of parenthood'.

May is normally the peak period of their perfidious activity, being the month in which a holiday exists in celebration of that which they fear and detest most.  Castigating the day of reverence for this most challenging of responsibilities as nothing more than a 'Hallmark Holiday', they can sometimes be found performing curiously contradictory observances.  While acknowledging the existence of the festival, they will undoubtedly seek to glorify the capitalistic perversions of it; attempting to demean its festivities as simply a day to get a great price on a mattress or a set of tires.    

MOTHERS can be recognized fairly easily in public.  Depending on their apparel, they can clearly picked out by scars on elbows and knees that were neither correctly bandaged, nor properly disinfected by a kiss.  If their limbs are covered, they'll be the ones who haven't washed behind their ears.  Unfortunately for those keeping their company, they're also the ones who don't wash their hands before dinner or after they've gone to the bathroom (which paints a particularly disgusting picture if they've done the latter just prior to the former).  Their hair is usually uncombed, their teeth unbrushed, and their faces are unscrubbed.  

Owing to the sheer volume of their nefarious activities over the next week, the DJBSS hotline will be open 24 hours a day until after Mother's Day.  While the call volume at 1-800-RAT-BUTT can likewise expected to be high and some delays are inevitable, please remain on the line and all relevant information regarding their evil enterprises will be taken down for future reprisal.

Because of the particularly disgusting nature of their transgressions (and personal habits) the Terror Threat is being raised to a particularly dirty shade of Gray.

Basket Case

Well the DJBSS has been sent out onto the streets, each with an assigned patrol route in which to root out and hopefully prevent some of the dastardly depredations of the confectionery criminals known as RABBITS.  (We've also warned most of the local pubs that our oft-inebriated security service is once again on the loose, allowing them time to stock up on potables and hire extra bouncers.)  And while I'm sure that the lads will do themselves proud (at the bar, if not at their assignment), it does tend to leave things a bit quiet around at the Just Blowing Smoke offices.  Yeah, that's what it is alright, quiet  ..........  too quiet.

After all, this is normally a time of year when little else can be heard than the pitter-patter of little feet (or the thundering tramp of them, depending on age and disposition of the crumb crunchers involved); and that too is missing.  With all of my children grown (please note that I did not say 'grown up'), and with the fact that they and their children are at best hundreds of miles away, this is not an unexpected condition at this time of year.  It does however, leave rather a void in this holiday weekend.  

They'll be no last minute scrambling to find containers that had been put away 11 months ago and not thought of since, running out for more eggs to replace the broken or over-cooked ones, no extra dye kits required to replace the spilled ones, and no Solomon-like conflict resolutions to be made in insuring that each child receives exactly the same number of delicacies in exactly the same ratio.  (Though never employed by a government bureaucracy, this particular form of 'wealth redistribution' was in fact my specialty, as it sometimes required sugary inequities to be disposed of through ingestion, rather than allow a lack of 'fairness' in the results to stand.)  

Oh there may yet be a last minute trip to invoke a bit of capitalism and pick up some tasty treats of the chocolatier's art, but only because this is one of the few times of the year that such trips can be made without a clerk looking at piles of my purchases and at my waistline before sadly shaking her head at me and taking my money. (After all, Man does not live by bread alone ...)

Perhaps what I'm feeling is something like that of a phantom pain in a severed limb (something with which I'm familiar from a long-lost finger tip).  A longing for something that is no longer there.  In spite of the fact that I wear my Curmudgeon credentials proudly, I find that after years of grousing over the often expensive and usually messy labors involved with keeping up with the rather bizarre traditions of the secular Easter holiday, after grumbling over waking up early on a Sunday morning so that hidden containers of tasty treats could be discovered (often only after a few hints), and after agonizing over whether all of the eggs hidden were found (and not left to rot in some wayward spot, only to be discovered weeks later after they had begun to truly stink up the place); I find that there aspects to these rituals that I now miss. 

I'm sure that some of this is some from of a simple nostalgia for the days of my own and my children's youth, or perhaps more likely they're cheap, self-serving fantasies where I can finally be the parent I always wanted to be.  On the other hand, it's far more likely that they are the dark and twisted desires of one who, like a serial killer, longs for a return to revisit the delicacy depredations that I committed upon my offspring (sorry, sometimes I watch too many "Criminal Minds" reruns).  

In truth, I find these days that there is little satisfaction in eating the ears off of a chocolate bunny without listening while the pitiful cries of the offended rug rats are voiced nearby.  There is little savor in the consuming a handful of jelly bean if their ones not pilfered from someone else's possession (usually unknowingly).  There's something strangely sad in discovering that you actually don't much care for the taste of 'peeps' unless they've become somewhat stale from having been aged on nests of plastic grass for over a week.  (OMG - I'm a RABBIT!)

Whatever the history or reasoning for it however, there just seems to be something missing from the holiday experience this year, and something disquieting about an absence that I appear unable to put my finger on.  And while I'm far from having my normal aplomb shaken, I'm occasionally concerned about my current state of mind.  (Which is strange, since it's normally only other people who feel the need to be concerned about my mental state.)  It's not that I fear something as serious as a complete mental meltdown (though the prospect of one does seem rather refreshing when I think about it), it's that I think that if I'm not better able to get these feelings of Easter nostalgia under control, I may well become an Easter "basket case".

April Terror Alert: RABBITS

As March ends and April begins, the Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security (DJBSS) is once again working tirelessly to root out potential terrorists threats in this nation. (Well kind of, anyway ...)  So maybe tirelessly is too strong a word, but even I admit that they're able to do a pretty fair job now that we've finally sobered them up from their St Patrick's Day activities, performed a cursory cleaning of their headquarters while they were out celebrating, and replaced the empty jumbo-sized bags of Cheetos scattered about the attic that we keep them locked in with full ones.  

And while they have been given little in the way of credit for their labors and are often held in relatively low esteem (even by me), it must be admitted that their efforts have proven far more effective in threat protection for this nation than their 'mall cop' counterparts at airports around the country, better known as the TSA. 

It is therefore no surprise that the DJBSS has once again slipped a notification and threat assessment out from under the door of their command center (OK, attic) with barely a week for the nation to take appropriate precautions.  I am of course speaking of an imminent Easter holiday threat ... RABBITS.  And believe me when I tell you that we aren't talking about cute little fuzzy creatures who make their way from place to place with a curiously amusing (and rather charming) little hopping gate, but about an organization of criminals and thieves who will stop at almost nothing in perpetrating their heinous and addictive path of petty pilferage upon a sacred rite of spring (though now that I think about it, I suppose they could hop about as well if they wanted to).

Now for those of you who have never heard of this nefarious organization, they are a particularly disgusting bunch of evildoers whose members not only commit depredations on the innocent youth of this nation during the Easter holiday, but are evidently also doomed to pass their seemingly their cursed existence and insufferably immature behavior from one generation to the next.  I am of course speaking of the Ravenous Bunny Butchers Ingesting Tasty and Sugary treats.  In a maniacally clever bit of misdirection, they've even managed to mostly allay fears of the general public regarding their demented and disgusting onslaughts on seasonal confections most in danger by taking the very name of the cute little creature that this holiday is most closely associated with ... the Easter Bunny. 

Here at "Just Blowing Smoke" we recognize that Easter is also a important religious holiday for many of you out there.  After many years of research however, even the lexicographers at the "Stuck On Stupid Dictionary" have been unable to come up with a relationship between those serious religious aspects, a rabbit, a basket, chocolate, boiled eggs, marshmallow baby chickens, or jellybeans that they are willing to share ... even with the editorial staff.  This is probably just as well, since doing so would probably break up the rhythm of the narrative and have nothing to do with the ridiculous point attempting to be made here (much like this interruption has already done). 

While you may never have heard them called out by name, I'm sure that all of you reading this have at one time or another suffered from their dastardly and diabolical attacks on Easter baskets during your youth.  Curiously, the psychotic membership of this candy cabal of reprehensible reprobates is mostly restricted to those of adult age (and with an obvious lack of adult self-control) who have offspring.  There's even limited evidence, obtained from rather suspect government-funded studies, that indicate that these RABBITS in fact commit most if not all of their disgusting acts of domestic terrorism (if not outright child abuse) under the very roofs they live. 

These lightning swift attacks have been perpetrated on the spring treat receptacles across the nation for decades, and membership activities appear to have no respect for age, income, or ethic origin.  Recognizing the evidence of these atrocious acts of domestic dessert assault are easy, and they are often characterized by Easter Baskets suffering from the following depredations:

*  Missing ears from chocolate Rabbits (usually with the appearance of having been ... dare I say it ... bitten off).
*  Curiously insignificant numbers of malted milk eggs
*  Suspiciously empty Reece's Easter Egg packages 
*  Trifling and grossly insufficient numbers of Marshmallow "Peeps", including some that almost appear to have been 'gnawed upon'
* Smeared, and therefore all but unreadable chocolate colored fingerprints on hallways and door frames
*  Trails of jelly beans leading to available habitation exits (or in some cases, the master bedroom)

Members of RABBITS can normally be easily identified by their "shit eating grin", often made all the more apparent by the smeared ring of chocolate found around their disgusting pie holes (and sometimes the back of one wrist), visible in spite of (or because of) their misguided and miserable attempts to wipe the evidence away.By the time that they can normally be properly identified however, their awful acts of intentional ingestion have already unfortunately been committed.  

You can of course, feel free to contact the DJBSS at 1-800-RATBUTT to report the iniquitous activities of these RABBITS; and I promise you that their names and likenesses will in turn be turned over to the Department of Homeland Security for possible further prosecution (Sorry, but it's a settlement that we've reached with the government for all the abuse that we've heaped upon the TSA).  Please remind the person answering the phone to wipe the chocolate and yellow marshmallow off of the receiver before replacing it back on the cradle.  (It makes the phones so sticky!)

In order to highlight the despicable deeds of these confectionery criminals, the DJBSS is raising the terror threat (as you might have already guessed) to PINK, in honor of those cute little eyes on the real Easter Bunny.

August Terror Alert

The month is almost over, and I realized that little or no effort had been expended during it to alert the public to another of the many nefarious organizations out there trying to terrorize the general public.  Of course, such a lapse cannot be tolerated in the decrepit cubbyhole more commonly known as the editorial offices of Just Blowing Smoke.  (As for the Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security, they have long since been relegated to corner of  the attic, with little more than empty cigar boxes and the tin-foil hats that no longer fit the editorial staff as company.) 

The delay in this alert, occurring as we are looking at the first Hurricane of the season approaching the East Coast however, has provided a timely opportunity to identify yet another of these execrable institutions.  And while there is a real potential for property damage and loss of life from such a storm, perhaps little of it will compare with the devastation perpetuated by the WACKO's now on-site. Knowing that most of you are probably unfamiliar with these hooligans of popular media, I should perhaps explain that the members of WACKO are in fact, agents of the Weather Anticipation Crisis Kibitzer Organization.

I'm sure that you know now who I'm talking about; those highly paid purveyors of panic on all forms of major broadcast media.  In an often successful effort to create an atmosphere of abject terror, these are the media operatives in the very path of the storm whose reporting and commentary during the all too frequent updates (constantly interrupting your favorite episode of 'So You Think You've Got To Dance In Front Of A Idle American', and usually right at the good part) are broadcast seemingly every waking hour of the day (and most of the sleeping ones) to convey information that cannot possibly serve to help us.  

While purported to be but simple reporting of the facts, few notice that the pronouncements of these WACKO's (made in the name of public safety and information) are often contradictory.  They tell those potentially affected to go out and buy emergency supplies of food and water, long after such supplies have disappeared from the shelves.  They taunt those in the storm's path with accounts of the last bottle of water, loaf of bread, or generator to be sold at a local outlet, all the while wailing over their necessity.  In stern tones, these WACKO's extol those who cannot hear them (since they probably no longer have a working radio, television, or power for that matter), to seek a safety that no longer exists.

They carefully use terms like 'might' and 'may' when describing the path and strength of such storms; giving themselves the greatest possible latitude in sowing hysteria amongst the greatest numbers, while maintaining at least a shred of credibility.  Perhaps most interestingly antithetical, these WACKO's are the first to demand that residents abandon the area that they themselves are reporting from, in spite of having just traveled many miles from an often safer locale to get to it.  Showing not even enough sense to come in out of the rain for their own part, and while handling electrical equipment in a rainstorm, they castigate as ignorant, the hardy souls who choose to defend the homes and stoically face the weather head on.

Having no new information to offer in their hourly (if not more often) reports, they content themselves with endlessly repeating hours old information as if it were 'hot off the presses' until most are more afraid of listening to these broadcasts again than of any impending doom that nature has to offer.  Pointing at the blowing tops of trees or large waves on a shoreline, they attempt to define the concept of wind as if we had never seen it before.  With carefully unmopped faces (and often glasses) they attempt to convey to a no longer riveted audience the concept of rain falling.

The agents of WACKO can normally be identified by their uniforms, consisting of dusters or windbreakers, usually with hoods blowing over their faces and microphones to obscure critical parts of their safety announcements.  Their handlers in turn, can usually be found sitting behind big desks, and can be easily identified by the phony looks of concern on their faces when the cameras cut to them (and secret joy at no longer being one of the WACKO field agents required to brave the elements).

While these WACKO's can be dangerous, true peril usually lies in listening to them too closely or too often.  They are easily evaded by the simple expedient of turning off the television (and leaving it off until the storm has passed).  Do not attempt to confront these WACKO's, as their droning voices have often been known to have a hypnotic, and sometimes suicidal effect.  DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES attempt to contact the DJBSS at 1-800-RAT-BUTT to report their activities.  Not only do we not care, but it is unlikely that anyone would answer in any case, as the entire staff will probably be found hiding under a table (wind, rain, and thunder scare us).

In honor of first Hurricane of the season, Irene, the terror threat has been duly raised to Sea Green.

July Terror Alert

Phones have been relatively quiet at the Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security in recent weeks, as the tin-foil hat terrorists that it normally deals with were apparently taking a brief summer hiatus. There have been a number of calls since the 4th of July Holiday however at 1-800-RAT-BUTT (code for 'tell somebody who gives a rat's ass') outlining a potential returning threat.

It seems that yet another insidious organization has resurfaced, and may pose a credible threat to many of you out there. For those of you who have not yet been assaulted by these corrupt communication con artists, the group that I am speaking about is of course the Society of Harassing Imitation Telemarketers.

These SHITs are not only telephonically assaulting hapless innocents in the privacy of their own homes (usually at the dinner hour) through phone calls attempting to sell them something that they don't want or need; but it turns out that many of the items that they are offering during these annoying interruptions of domestic tranquility in fact DO NOT EXIST.

Calls from these SHITs may be recognized by the following insider secret code phrases:

• How are you this morning (afternoon, evening, today, etc...)?
  
• Can I have just a few minutes of your time?
• Have you heard about ...
• Are you aware ...
  
• (the robotic voice call preface) This call may be recorded ...
• (or the infamous) I'm not trying to tell you something ...

Don't panic!!! (A statement once made famous as the word's on the cover of classic reference tome, "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy".) In fact your only defense to these nefarious attacks is aggressive resistance.

Instead of trying to play defense with them (a tactic with which they are all too familiar) you must instead meet these villains head on. Do not be deterred by their apparent single-minded devotion to duty, their well-rehearsed scripts, and their carefully congenial tones. Regardless of how innocent these dastardly dialers may appear to you, their calls are in fact more menacing than an innocent query about how your taxes were prepared by an agent of the IRS.

You must be prepared with a suitable fake name, a fictitious credit card number, and a shipping address in another country. If for some reason, you are still caught unawares by these demons of the dial tone, follow one of these alternate strategies (which can likewise be used on actual Telemarketers):

• Mention to them that you too are recording this call and ask them for identification for auditing purposes.
• Tell them you have an emergency call coming in and would they mind being placed on hold for just a moment (then walk away from the phone).
• Tell them to hold on a minute so that you can call your spouse to the phone so that they too can listen to this exciting offer (and again just walk away from the phone).
• Ask them if they'd like the phone numbers of some of your friends so that they will not miss out on such an exceptional opportunity.
• Tell them that you're sorry but you just made a purchase of the same thing from one of their brethren five minutes ago.
• Explain to them that you'd love to buy something, but the hospital attendants took away your credit cards weeks ago.
  
• Offer to buy their entire inventory if they can arrange for overnight shipment by carrier pigeon.
• Make an immediate purchase, and put it on the aforementioned fictitious credit card. When that number doesn't go through offer another imaginary number. Continue the process until they finally surrender to your superior tactical abilities.

Since there is in fact no escape from these conversational criminals, you might as well use this part of your life that you will never get back to enjoy yourself a little bit at their expense. Who knows, you might even make a new Facebook Friend.

Under no circumstances however, should you report such calls to the DJBSS; as your call will likely be treated as that of a telemarketer and hung up on.

As a consequence of the threat posed by these SHITs, the terror threat (as calculated by the DJBSS) is being raised to BROWN.


( For those of you keeping count, this effort marks yet another milestone for "Just Blowing Smoke", with the achievement of its 750th posting. Of course, if such nonsense as this is to be the measure we use to judge, one might come to believe that quantity and not quality was the goal in the first place.)

Yet Another Threat (yeah, yeah ....)

Phones at 1-800-RATBUTT were ringing off the wall at the Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security last week! OK, maybe not ringing off the walls, but they were REALLY BUSY! Well OK, not really busy, but they were busy. Alright, alright, there were two phone calls the entire week. One was the wrong number and the other person must have had asthma, since all I could hear on the other end of the line was labored breathing. (Hey, wait a minute ...)

With such encouragement, how could I do less than once more delve into the realm of secret and nefarious organizations attempting to assume some level of evil influence in this country. One might even go so far as to say that with the recently formed DJBSS at my disposal, I could now be considered the Geraldo Rivera or John Stossel of such investigations. (Of course, such consideration can be made with the clear understanding that the only similarity between the three of us is that we all have a mustache.)

In this week's startling report, we shine the light of absurdity (the light of truth had already been checked out by Rush Limbaugh and he still hasn't brought the damn thing back) on a cadre of electronic miscreants who have plagued the World Wide Web almost since its inception, otherwise known as the Terrible Responses in Otherwise Legitimate Locations group.

The goal of these TROLLs course, is to disrupt the free flow of ideas on the Internet through the posting of comments that are at a minimum shamefully spelled, at best poorly written, and which usually seem to have nothing to do with the subject at hand.

Their offerings in fact, may be the first form of Internet porn; being often obscene, generally disgusting, and with no redeeming social value. In offering these perverse attacks however, TROLLs often manage to distract the discussion from a legitimately debated topic. Falling into the verbal trap set by these minions of mindless pap, subsequent responders misguidedly attempt to either refute the information provided or lose track of the argument at hand by seeking to berate an agent of disinformation that has long since moved on to another target.

Interestingly enough, this aggregation of electronic evildoers has managed to take their appellation mainstream by way of cover, with the term troll becoming the generic brand for them and their odious offerings; and engendering no more curiosity than does the term JELLO. (Oh the stories I could tell you about JELLO. But perhaps another time ...) Not unlike many malefactors before them, their current nome de guerre was not in fact their first selection. Originally known as the Intermittent Disruption of Internet Operational Transmissions group, they were perhaps more aptly named; but members quickly grew tired of calling themselves IDIOTs and moved to change it.

Regardless of the alias they travel under however, these villains have managed to grow their membership at a rate even greater than the growth of Internet use itself. With recruitment proving a success amongst all major religions and across the political spectrum, TROLLs have become so numerous that they are now often reduced to taking on each other in the comment sections of blogs and newspaper web sites in a form of perverse self-gratification.

TROLLs can usually be distinguished from their fellows on the information superhighway by their bastardization of the English language, their atrocious grammar, and by the serious misuse of the 'Caps Lock' key. They can also frequently be identified by hideous attempts at anonymity through what they consider to be clever screen names, or their even more clever efforts to hide through the use of the screen name 'Anonymous'.

There is no true defense against TROLLs, though those with private blog sites can choose to 'Moderate' their misdeeds out of electronic existence. For the more public sites, while the practice of moderation might seem the more prudent course of action, they in fact secretly enjoy TROLLs efforts. Such distractions often encourage people to return to a site frequently in order to vent their displeasure, driving up hit rates and as a consequence, Internet ad revenues.

DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES call the DJBSS with reports on TROLLs at 1-800-RATBUTT (OK, go ahead. It's not like we get many calls anyway. But don't expect me to actually answer.) The truth of it is that I don't want to know because I long ago stopped giving a 'rat's ass' about the maunderings of these illiterate and irredeemable electronic lowlifes. Putting up with a TROLL is never pleasant, but is simply part of the price that we pay for being a free society and enjoying the free exchange of information.,

As a consequence of the level of threat engendered on a ongoing basis by TROLLs however, the DBJSS terror threat is being raised to the obvious color of YELLOW.

Be advised ...

The New Threat

I have warned readers of this blog in the past of the diabolic threat of the ADL (Anti-Destination League), a secretive and nefarious organization bent on delaying travelers at every ticket counter, boarding gate, and baggage claim carousel in this country. It has come to the attention of the DJBSS (Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security) however, that this is not only evil alliance attempting to work its perverse will on the general public.

It is therefore with considerable sarcasm, extensive irony, and tongue planted firmly in cheek that I raise the threat level in this country to "plaid". It seems that though once considered eradicated forever, the dreaded Permanent Regiment for Idiotic Guilt has in fact made a decisive reappearance. These agents are not to be confused with your everyday prig however. It is the goal of these PRIGs in fact, to make everyone (including themselves) feel endlessly guilty for not following rules that most have never heard of, don't understand, and would consider downright silly when and if they did.

Originally known as the Paperwork Enlargement & Enforcement Patrol, these parasites once limited their activities to the creation of endless forms that everyone had to fill out, but no one ever read. This malicious band of malcontents was forced to change its name and ambition however, when their ultimate goal was achieved far in advance of their carefully written, annoyingly ponderous, and massively detailed plans.

Quite frankly, they were considering the name change anyway, since no one could take seriously a group whose members called themselves PEEP's. Their former ID badges (edible in the case of capture) were and still are considered delicious however; and for some strange reason, make an annual appearance every Easter.

Make no mistake that these are simple prudes however, these PRIGs are a dangerous bunch with a puritanical strip a mile wide. They are well-recognized experts in the arts of creating distress in those caught unaware in a web inconsistently interpreted behavioral legalize or misapplied elucidations of antiquated custom. Many's the poor innocent who thought themselves snared by a simple misunderstanding of manners, only to unexpectedly find themselves embarrassed, shamed, and publicly humiliated by an agent of PRIG for doing something that they not only didn't realize was wrong, but hadn't even realized that they'd done.

Cough in your hand instead of the inside of your elbow, and you'll find them at the ready with an expectorated disparagement. Wipe your nose with a handkerchief instead of a disposable tissue and they'll be at the ready with a audible sniff or two of their own. Improperly recycle an aluminum can, plastic bottle, or newspaper and you'll find your self-esteem similarly and improperly disposed of. If by some mischance you should make the fatal error of being caught smoking in any place (public or private), be prepared for their full frontal wrath, and a diatribe the likes of which few have survived. (See, they were right, smoking can be hazardous to your health.)

While there is no escape from these psychotic sycophants of pointless propriety once they get you in their evil clutches, they can in fact be avoided. The key to such subtle subterfuge is early recognition of your enemy. A PRIG can be easily distinguished from those around him by an unmistakable pinch-faced expression, the stink of false modesty, and a determined and relentless stride. If you see someone who looks like they're sucking on a sour grape, smells like a ripe diaper pail, and walks at a pace only used by someone approaching a cop at a parking meter just as time on it is expiring .... turn at a right angle to their path and make your way quickly and quietly to the nearest exit (windows can and should be included in this category when on the second floor or lower).

PRIGs are not to be taken on lightly and can be challenged directly only at the greatest personal peril. Do not therefore, attempt to confront such a person in single combat; as they are armed with an over-abundance of self-righteousness and armored against retaliation by oblivious conformity. While accepting the challenge of battle (even knowing you will lose) might seem on its face a courageous act; such selfless sacrifice will ultimately prove pointless. It will protect neither your reputation nor that of your companions. Discretion calls for even the heartiest soul to seek salvation in diplomatic cowardice in such cases, while living to fight another day. PRIGs can in fact only hope to be defeated when the odds are greatly in your favor (2:1 is good, but I personally prefer at least 4:1).

While isolated reports of PRIG encounters are occurring already, there is no telling when this will ramp up into a full-fledged pogrom. Any incidents or even encounters with PRIGs can be and should be reported immediately to the DJBSS hotline at: 1-800-RATBUTT (which is the PC way to tell you sorry, "tell someone who give's a rat's ass").

Remember, you have now been formally warned. Keep safe ... and Good Luck!