That is simply known as a Hot Pocket
Wicked War Stories/Worst Sex Ever probably requires its own special Lush 'loosely-affiliated' website.
*ahem...
Don't sweat the small stuff. Pay it forward next time, if you can hobble to the door ahead of the next youngster.
Since 2001, I've been asked to step aside for a pat down numerous times. I suppose I fit some sort of profile. I've tried different clothing ensembles and from fully suited to looking like a beach bum, I still get asked out of line about 75% of the time.
In 1993 I carried a large amount of cash on my person, in wallet, & in numerous pockets so as not to create any odd looking bulges. Fortunately, it was December and I was wearing a coat with interior pockets too. The only denomination was $100 Franklin's. There was no frisking then, but I did worry about being asked by some security to step into some office or other. I was flying out of an airport in Kansas City. While that seems like the middle of nowhere (and it generally is) that was also during the middle of the crack cocaine and burgeoning meth courier industry in the midwest of the USA.
I arrived about 30 minutes before my flight and tried to think of puppy dogs and kitty cats while standing in line and then relaxing in the boarding lounge so I wouldn't be seen sweating bullets. What do you tell some authority figure when they find 80K in hundred dollar bills on you?
"I'm going to Vegas, via Texas, because I couldn't get a non-stop flight." Probably not very believable. I took a chance and got through, but I was uncomfortably paranoid until I walked out of the Dallas airport. Driving then was out of the question as the major highway was also under threat of roadblock vehicle searches, at several interchanges.
I wouldn't carry more than a couple grand on myself in the last 16 years when flying. These fuckers will just take your cash, toss you in some airport holding room and totally jack your life up for as long as they can, and then confiscate your shit leaving you with little recourse to get anything back. If they wanted to be real pricks, they'd test your paper money and either accuse you of being a drug trafficker or mule and really screw your ass to a wall.
Best bet is to not attempt to sneak anything through those machines and hundreds of eyeballs that you don't want to embarrass you at the very least, or get your ass tossed in some cell for a damned long time.
I prefer the landing strip / racing stripe... manicured. Seeing hers like that informs me that she thinks it's sexy and that in a nutshell is usually, sexy enough for me.
I took a clothes hamper and sprayed it silver and made slits for the arms.
