Dear NSA: About those Text Messages

Dear NSA:

Regarding the recent news that you’ve been collecting all emails, telephone calls, text messages, and most other forms of electronic communications…letter


I trust that you’ve found most of my correspondence to be quite routine – boring, in fact. Telephone calls to my sick mother. Those emails I’ve forwarded with adorable baby animals. My children’s Skype sessions. My Google searches regarding natural kidney stone treatments. I know – so mundane.

Sure, I spice it up now and then and call for the abolition of the State, but – take note – I only advocate for a peaceful revolution. No need to send any goons to shake me down. If you must come, please, have the courtesy to knock first.  And try not to shoot my dogs, if at all possible.  I promise you, I’m not going to be marching on the White House with a pitchfork. I do recognize that I’m probably on a list somewhere, but, hey, you all would be out of a job if the State actually did disappear, so I understand the need for self-preservation.  Job security is important, even for spies.

The National Security Agency's Data Farm in Utah

The National Security Agency’s Data Farm in Utah, where they store your nekkid photos.


Now, about those texts. As you’re probably aware, my wife and I sometimes engage in risqué – even ribald – banter in our messages.  It passes the time while we’re apart, you dig? We’ve even been known to send a photo or two. I trust you’ve seen them. She’s a looker, no? And yes, sometimes one of the cats sneaks into the photo. Funny stuff, right?

With the difficult job you have protecting our national security, I feel it’s only fitting that after a long day hunting and monitoring terrorists, you all get to enjoy some salacious emails, titillating photos, and sexy Skype sessions provided free of charge by your loyal constituents. It must be quite the spank-fest ’round there. And by all means, feel free to download as much as you need for your own personal use. Thanks again for keeping us safe.

Warmest regards,

The staff (ahem!) at Free Your Kids

P.S. I typed all that with my middle finger.

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