You Win This Round, Roadrunner

I went to Albuquerque over the long weekend to see my lovely friends there, including but not limited to Cari and Shamsi, and to get one more day of snowboarding in before resigning myself to four months in the desert buried in books, a.k.a. the Spring semester. The trip was fantastic. I have no pictures to post, because the lady with the hard case for her camera was designated photographer, and she has been somewhat indisposed. I think she's fallen into a decline because I left.

The expectation was set high before I even got on the plane in Phoenix, because as I was waiting on line for security screening, I noticed a series of placards next to the carry-on baggage x-rays indicating you should not board with guns, knives, cans with flames coming out of them, or bombs.

Much to my delight, they were rendered approximately like so (I didn't take a picture, because I'm pretty sure there are few quicker routes to the little airport jail than using a camera near security installations):

Fortunately, I am neither Boris Badenov nor Wile E. Coyote, and so had no cartoon bombs in my luggage.