OK, one shit-for-brains Nigerian setting his underwear alight aboard an airliner bound from Amsterdam to Detroit doesn’t warrant any snark from me, though I notice the usual clot of Repuglitards just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to piss on Preznit Obama’s wingtips.
But when another one turns up — this time locked into the crapper of an Amsterdam-Motor City flight — a guy can’t help but wonder: Are the Nigerian spam merchants are finally having to lay a few of the dumber folks off?
Mad Blog Media 
As one who is planning a trip to A’dam in da summer, I was none to happy to read about this pathway to the US of A for the Nigerian ding-bats. However, when I read that the second one was sick and thus mucho in needo of the lou, I was not that worried. Better there infecting the toilet bowl with his germs than the rest of the cabin, right? Right? Unless he had some ingenious “improvised explosive device” hidden in his underwear, then having the sick Nigerian in the crapper is the best place for him IMHO. Either that or maybe the airlines could put in a video feed and ask someone to monitor it. That might make for some interesting U2b-ed videos about Mile High members, but as the saying goes: “When given lemons…make lemonade!”
When Richard Reid smuggled explosives onto a plane via his Air Jordans, the Rethuglican administration’s response was to make the rest of us show TSA our Odor Eaters every time we board. So we can assume that the only response that will make the lunatic fringe happy is to bear our Fruit of the Looms every time we get on a plane. Hell, let’s make it, every time we get on public trans of any sort. Dropping trou before getting on a bus, into a cab, or aboard a train will become second nature in no time.
Sorta gives new meaning to the term “booty call,” eh, Steve? And James, stay away from whatever the Nigerians are smoking over there in A’dam. It seems to cause leaks in the brainpan.
Patrick, no worries. I hear that StarChucks opened a new outlet in Centraal Station in the ‘Dam. I seriously doubt it is anything like the other ‘coffeehouses’ there, but then again…it might add some ‘character’ to the scene (as a screen writer might say). Apparently there are now a grand total of three StarChucks in all of the Netherlands: two at Schipol and one at Centraal. I guess I should be planning on shopping naked while I am there, eh?