Ah… Fucking customs, eh?

Had a large manila envelope in the mailbox today, plain except for the saffron tape on one end with the logo of Canadian Border Security Agency and advising me it had been opened:

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Which is weird because usually then such a thing comes with an invoice for whatever they figured I owed in duty, but not this time.

So, if they weren’t looking for money, they must have been looking for porno or drugs, I guess.

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Hmm… RockinOn. That must be code for something… Some kind of creepy porno, possibly involving tentacle rape and maybe a few midgets, right? And robots?

No, I know: midget-raping tentacle robots that spooge virgins’ blood!

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Huh… Just another old rock music magazine for my ever-growing collection of “Guns N Roses Etc.” random crap that I like to flip through when I’m supposed to be working on the new maQLu album.

Although I do suppose the sub-feature on Sinead O’Conner and the U2 piece probably feel a lot like being tentacle-raped by midgets or robots, but hey, I was never a fan of either of those pompous windbags… But I digress.

So… Our tax dollars at work. No dope (which I assume they can find via x-ray or sniffing dog anyway). No smut. Nothing worth opening my mail for unless you have a thing for leggy brunet rhythm guitarists (but that ain’t illegal).

Or I guess the flip side is I should apologize for having such boring eBay habits, because I’m guessing when they do open something up to find XXX sicko BDSM tentacle-rape smut, that’s an awesome day at the office with everyone taking a turn to “examine the evidence” in the privacy of the men’s room.