Creative Steroid Smuggling

The customs guys are allowed to pick people out at random..If you look suspicious they will harass you, they actually have fun doing this shit.

What about the regulations on transporting foods in airplanes? I'm not sure you're allowed to move any perishable goods - though maybe cans don't count?

I'm sure those cans weigh much less with steroids in em, than with chick peas (regardless of the compound... HAH). A good shake and you'd be able to tell something is up..

Just speculation.. I'm sure others are much more creative than that...along the lines of your friend who almost shoved sust vails up his rectum.. heh heh.. I liked that one..

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Damn guys, just when I think we have a smart board, you go and bust out the RECTUM jokes! I guess I might as well throw one in there:

Bob, a lawyer, was driving home over the Golden Gate Bridge after spending a great day out on the ocean fishing. His catch, cleaned and filleted, was wrapped in newspaper on the passenger side floor. He was late getting home and was speeding. Wouldn't you know, a cop jumped out, radar gun in hand, motioned him to the side of the bridge.

Bob pulled over like a good citizen. The cop walked up to the window and said, "You know how fast you were going, BOY?"

Bob thought for a second and said, "Uhh, 60?"

"67 mph, son! 67 mph in a 55 zone!" said the cop.

"But if you already knew officer," replied Bob, "Why did you ask me?"

Fuming over Bob's answer, the officer growled, in his normal sarcastic fashion, "That's speeding, and you're getting a ticket and a fine!"

The cop took a good close look at Bob, in his stained fishing attire and said, "You don't even look like you have a job! Why, I've never seen anyone so scruffy in my entire life!"

Bob answered, "I've got a job! I have a good, well-paying job!"

The cop leaned in the window, smelling Bob's fish catch, said, "What kind of a job would a bum like you have?"

"I'm a rectum stretcher!" replied Bob.

"What you say, BOY?" asked the patrolman.

"I'm a rectum stretcher!"

The cop, scratching his head, asked, "What does a rectum stretcher do?"

Bob explained, "People call me up and say they need to be stretched, so I go over to their house. I start with a couple of fingers, then a couple more, and then one whole hand, then two. Then I slowly pull them farther and farther apart until it's a full six feet across."

The cop, absorbed with these bizarre images in his mind, asked, "What the hell do you do with a six foot asshole?"

Bob nonchalantly answered, "You give it a radar gun and stick it at the end of a bridge!"

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