Insecurity and Whores in the Homeland

8 p.m. to 9 p.m.
3.20.06

Homeland security has taken over CTU and, in grand government fashion, has done nothing except yell at people and stare aimlessly into the computer screen. They don't even have names. They just bark at you and scream "Homeland Security" like it's supposed to command respect or something. It's actually closer to a punch-line.

I hate Homeland Security. I've hated them ever since Tom Ridge squinted through the television at me and made me feel uncomfortable for lounging around in my boxer shorts at home. Screw you Tom Ridge.

After Homeland Security absorbs everything like the blob, CTU will be forced to become an underground, vigilante group that fights to protect the American people without the consent of the government, much like Larry Flynt and gay cowboys.

The only plan the government has hatched up to protect the people is to put armed military personnel on the streets of LA to "maintain order." You can never maintain order with armed people walking around, unless the order you want to maintain is that of a third world country or Miami Beach.

So why would Bug-eyed Logan do this? He's tired. He just wants a nap. And VP Evil Twin is making a lot of sense, especially when he has that crazed look in his eye. He's even crazier than Crazytown, only he's smart enough to take his pills with a vodka chaser. Crazy always goes down smoother with Absolute.

The only drug Crazytown has is tobacco and her levels were probably depleted since she went out for a smoke and never came back. I predict she'll be in full force next week, especially after a pack of cancer-sticks. She may even look cooler too.

The curfew in LA won't work, mainly because for it to be successful, the general public has to know the time. And people in LA are too smacked out of their heads to care what time of the day it is. Every hour is happy hour to a crack whore.

Which leads us to Jack and Boring Curtis (are they deliberating not giving that guy a personality?) entering the swank hotel to chase down the Whore. This particular whore has had dealings with Warlock and is selling him information vital to the next attack.

He didn't say where it was, but mentioned that releasing the death gas would kill 200,000 people, meaning the target would have to be bigger than a mall, but smaller than a brothel. Or maybe it's getting put into Sour Patch Kids candy bags, hidden as sugar and waiting to explode in a theater.

The Whore isn't there and all we find is Desmond from Lost flying through the air and tackling any black man he sees holding a gun.

(Wait! Did Jack ever give Curtis a "Sorry dude for dropping your ass on a sidewalk." Where's that scene? Or was it a quick guy nod that happened and I missed it? Maybe Curtis is waiting for that camping trip they have planned together and will let out all his dirty man love feelings. Or kill Jack for disrespecting his manhood. Either way, it'll be called "Brokeback Mountain 2: Crash into each other" and it'll win the Best Picture Oscar, a Grammy, an Emmy, the Nobel peace prize, and the national spelling bee.)

But Desmond is on special assignment for MI6. His assignment? Sleep with a hot terrorist whore. Why? To save Germans. More reasons why America sucks ass. We get special assignments like ignore the Sudan or die in Iraq.

Jack needs the Whore so she can tell him where Warlock is, but Desmond won't give her up because she's too valuable, mainly for the sex. When you find a girl who wears knee high black boots and dishes out dirty, European sex you hold on to her. You hold on to her like a fat kid holding on to the last jelly donut. In many ways, she is the last jelly donut in the Dunkin Donut box of whores.

And what kind of operation does MI6 have where you can be undercover and bang hot terrorist chics? Jack went undercover and got emotional bruises, a heroin habit, and another bad day. Maybe next season Jack will go to MI6 and save the world while having sex. Maybe I could do that too and call it a peace mission. (haha "I come in peace.")

As always, Jack finds a way because he has something that's more valuable than a terrorist whore. He's got a "wet list," which is just as valuable, but not as sexy in underwear, even after a bottle of wine. It's a list the NSA has that pinpoints all the terrorist cells they are tracking.

Homeland Security says it's actually not for sale and that it could ruin years of work. I say it's useless since the city of LA has been terrorized at least three times today and they didn't know anything about it. They should just call it garbage and throw it out with other useless things like condoms and the Constitution.

Scowl-face was pretty Bauer-like with her handling of Homeland Security man by throwing water in his lap. Actually, that's pretty standard behavior among tech-geeks after one of their own has been spit on (Edgar's been replaced by a non-fat man. Shameful).

Old Man Buchanan is losing it. He's being pushed out by the head Homeland Security she-beast who wants to grab all the goodies of CTU and kick out all the people, namely anyone who actually wants to secure the homeland. She's more interested in securing the fancy computers CTU has, specifically the ones that allow you to hack into NSA in 20 seconds.

So now Jack has the wet list, which I still don't believe is worth more than a dirty European terrorist whore. And apparently Desmond starts to realize this, since he admits he actually loves the whore.

Desmond: "Have you been in this situation before?"
Jack: "Yes. You never fall for the whore. Everyone knows that."
Desmond: "But I love her."
Jack: "You're mom's a whore."

I'm a big fan of talking on the cellphone on speaker while holding a gun to someone's head. It's going to be the next natural step for cell phone users.
For too long we've had to endure the dirty looks at libraries and mindless PSAs before our movies about how rude we are. Try to "shh!" me the next time I'm talking during dinner and I'll aim a .44 at your head. Go ahead. I'm looking forward to it because I'm pissed off with an itchy trigger finger and a score to settle.

Aw, Desmond and the whore actually loved each other. That's too bad. Jack Bauer doesn't like love. Every love that Bauer has had (Teri, Kim, Nina, Heroin) has let him down. Bauer spits on love and craps in its ear.

And Jack should learn to torture people emotionally. Sometimes it's even more effective.

Whore: "Who was he? Who was he working for? I loved him."
Jack: "He wasn't working for anyone. He was your brother. You know what's grosser than that? He liked it."

It was nice that Jack had the decency to give Desmond the "My bad" call seconds after he swindled him. Again, manic laughter would have sufficed instead of the wimpy "I'll give you my word" speech.

Ah, Bauer. You've made another enemy for life and will probably end up on a deserted island in the next season where Desmond will torture you with random flashbacks of your life and convince you that an arbitrary list of numbers hold the answers to everything.

Why does Jack bother with backup or even a team of agents? If they haven't died yet, they are sent away so Jack can have alone time with the enemy. Jack should just freelance for the government and have Chloe work for him out of her basement. Then he every time he shot his gun or yelled "Stop it!" he could write it off on his taxes.

Random: Little Palmer is on his way to give Aaron a present from Big Brother Palmer and has waited until after the curfew to do this. Then he gets shot off the road and into the woods, where now he is running for his life.
If he finds a goddamn mountain lion in there, I'm really gonna be pissed. Even more pissed that this plot was thrown in for no apparent reason. The present better be worth it, like a laser gun or one of those robotic dogs that flip.

After an hour of what-the-hell moments and my rage for Homeland Security increasing, I was shocked back into a wild, frenzy after the Whore gave up her source for the building schematics she sold to Warlock.

It was Sheryl Crow and, unlike Jack Bauer, she is for sale. In fact, she's in the discount rack next to the Backstreet Boys albums, the movie "From Justin to Kelly", and a box of Peeps.

Next week I'm hoping Bauer pulls out his torture lamp from the Freedom Satchel and says "I have been dying to do this again… "