Mandible research begins with a nude man

Pretending to check around in your pockets isn't getting you anywhere. Just kick him in the nuts and run like a cheetah (on all fours and covered with spots.) If you're stalling just for the fun of it, you can always distract him with the old "Oh-my-gosh-what's-that-thing-over there" trick, and then pull a quarter out from behind his ear. This involves planting the quarter ahead of time, highlighting the importance of advance planning. If you can get away with a few card-tricks, go for it, but once his attention begins to drift, you've got to bring him back with the hysterical declaration that you've dropped an ovary and must find it NOW! This can work against you, as trained agents may be called in to assist in the search, and they never wash their hands before giving it back. Then, try a few poems, any poems - as long as they rhyme. If, at any moment, you sense that he's all done with you, it's time to jump the shark and resort to yelling "Hey, take a look at these!" By then, you've done it: You're across the border without paying the bridge fee. Fight the power.

Calypso, but only for a few miles

In the spirit of looking ahead, I've ordered seven sets of toenail clippers, which are twice as big as fingernail clippers and five times more likely to be confiscated during a pre-boarding security pat-down. I never declare my personal hygiene items during the security check since they're easy to explain away as long as you're Whitey. If they don't consider the semi-chub I've developed during the pat-down a potential weapon, those bitches are fooling themselves with a capital "foo".

Apart from that, toenail clippers are also useful for removing "skin tags", which are inexplicably known as "moles" when they're round, but most of mine look like I've got small, wet corn-flakes hanging off of my body. My aunt (who is a nurse,) refers to these extra bits as "hangin' titties". I suspect this particular aunt had some interesting experiences in the girls' locker room in junior high to have arrived at such a metaphor. Anyway, she reccomends clipping the skin tag off with toenail clippers, quickly staunching the flow of blood, and then assuring any concerned on-lookers that, yes, I did intend to cut myself this way, and yes, I promise not to do this to you when you're asleep. People always believe you the first time that you promise not to cause them harm. If you have to assure them for a third time, it'll be best to move on to someone else, preferably a stranger with a sweet ass.