"On a quick aside, the tour got off to quite an auspicious start upon touch-down in New Zealand. I'm cruising through customs, when they throw up an X-ray machine upon exiting. Who DOES that? Anyway, they X-ray my stuff, see my contraband, and freak. Alarms, sirens, dogs, screaming guards, high-powered rifles all pointed at my head, the whole shebang. All for the BURRITO I was 'smuggling' from LAX. I'd bought it, taken a bite, and shoved it down to the bottom of my bag, and promptly forgot about it. Oh yeah, I'm kiddin' about the dogs and guards and the whole freak-out part, but it woulda made a way better story if it did happen. Anyway, they take me into the corner and start hittin' me with, 'This is food, you filled out the card that says you're not bringing in food, yet this is food.' And the customs goof has apparently never seen a burrito before, 'cause he's lookin' at it like it's a Martian relic or something. Then he writes it up as a 'meat sandwich,' and I'm like, 'Hey! That's not a 'meat sandwich', it's a burrito!'' And he's like, 'A baa…what? How do you spell that?' And I tell him, 'Hey, it ain't my job to teach you how to spell 'burrito', Customs Goof.' Anyway, I do not get off lightly. They charge me TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS right then and there. Jeez! I told 'em, 'I can get rid o' this evidence right here and now, Customs Goof,' but they wanted my dough, not my satisfied belly. Bogus…so, that was the Most Expensive. Burrito. Ever. Damn, I shoulda keistered it…
