door bell rings .... five men in dark suits standing outside ... hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I open the door, hands shaking with that burning feeling in my guts "Yea, how can I help you gentlemen" The tallest one, intimidating, gruff, ex marine perhaps, shoves a badge in my face: "N S A, National Sewer Agency" they push me aside and push inside my hosue .. a violation but what do I say?!? They look around ... circling me like a pack of wolves .. then, another pulls a bag from under his arm and produces a plastic jar in a biohazard bag... looks like ice cream and garbage inside, then grufly states "Sir, do you recognize these napkins?" "napkins?" I squeak out ... it hit me.... FUCK! .... the other night .... I was drunk, out of TP, desperate... paper towels staring me in the face - dare I? It was a moment of weakness, desperation and drunkeness rolled into one ... and here I am, staring the consequences in the face.... "Sir, your going to have to come with us" And no one ever heard from me again. Please take heed, only flush TP!
This is fairly close to reality, if you think about it
Medicaid here in Arizona is called "AHCCCS" which is pronounced "access" so imagine the fun homophonic confusion in a conversation about "do you have access?" "well I got access but then I lost it..."
Many conservative Christians have termed homosexuality as "Same-Sex Attraction" or SSA, so they often speak of "suffering from SSA" or being afflicted with it. When I applied to the Social Security Administration for disability, I couldn't help but notice, and their disability program is called "SSDI" which has nothing to do with Reagan's "Star Wars/Strategic Defense Initiative"
Nor do my dealings with the F.A.A. in the past several years have anything to do with a pilot's license or flight clearances; the Family Assistance Administration here doles out funds for food stamps ("SNAP", another good homophone, lets you purchase plenty of alphabet soup for the fam) and other basic needs.
