Hand and other baggage searched at Heathrow on the way to the US. 3 pairs of handcuffs found: “We come across all kinds of things, sir. Have an interesting trip”
It was a phase.
Eurotunnel, body search. This was a last minute rush and I didn’t have time to stow everything away. Large lump of recreational indulgence in rear jean pocket. Male security brushes over lump, stops, looks at me, passes on. Phew……
It was a phase.
I don’t suppose you’re still in that phase? I’m liking you better and better. 
A hardboiled egg and a library book.
I once had a border guard search my trunk with much suspicion and closely inspect those two items, among the few papers I had with me. Turned out there had just been a coup attempt and everyone was on red alert.
I took my Dad through airport security once. It was right after we’d had him cremated. As others have indicated, sending your luggage through the x-ray with 2 kilos of whitish powder in a plastic bag inside can engender discussion.
Manny years ago, uh, no, maybe later…
I visited Holland regularly to play in a major chess tournament. It was sponsored by the Dutch Steel giant Hoogovens.
One year, my mate, Grandmaster John Nunn, wins the main event. The prize is a sculpture, weighing about 8 pounds (over 3 kg). (You’re probably ahead of me here).
Arriving at security, John smoothly asks if I’d like to carry the trophy / admire the engraving etc.
So I carry a SOLID STEEL sculpture thru the metal detector.
The ensuing noise drowned out planes taking off, and drew so many passengers that the massed ranks of airport security had a hard time getting to me.
(Fortunately everyone knew who John was, and I even got my picture taken.)
Zyada – The strange thing was they didn’t confiscate anything. I mean, what exactly were they looking for, flamethrowers ?
Later, I thought it mattered that the said items were in the checked in luggage.
To answer your question: I suppose we’re all curious beasts of the field, old habits die hard, once more for the gipper. If we should by chance meet, make sure I remembered this time to bring keys.
A riding crop - I was flying to Vegas for a Halloween party and was going dressed as a jockey. I had my carry-on bag, but my helmet and crop wouldn’t fit in. I almost missed my plane because they said the crop was hazardous. I ended up banding it enough that it could be squeezed into the carry-all. Later, at the elevator banks of the MGM Grand, while dressed like a jockey in silks, breeches, boot, helmet and whil, I was propositioned by a dread-locked woman. That was…um…peculiar. 
StG
Yet another reason avoid using metal handcuffs recreationally on loved ones. Leather and velcro have less risk of injury and scrutiny at the airport.
Is that any good? Never seen it.
I had my puckish sense of humor confiscated at one point. I was asked at the gate if I had packed all my own bags, and if anyone had given me anything to carry. What moronic questions, you say. Who, you say, could possibly be confused about either the appropriate behavior when a stranger hands you a bag to take on the plane, or the correct response to these questions NO MATTER WHAT YOU ARE CARRYING ANYWAY?. Well, my friend, you are reading the very words of that confused fellow right now. “Nope,” I said, “just that oily paper bag from the guy with the beard and turban, but he kept muttering ‘Allah Akbah’ and ‘death to the enemies of God’ under his breath, so I figure if it came from anyone that religious it must be okay.”
Well. The ticket deer got all confused. All over the meadow heads rose up, ears flicking this way and that, alert for any sense of danger. ("Run, Bambi, RUN!). Even the most airheaded realized I must be kidding, right, but now what do they do? The employee handbook didn’t cover this situation, and the airport cops are off somewhere strip-searching Inky’s mom - isn’t that always the way, and just when you need 'em! The doe in front of me looked all around at the other employees with her big eyes, and they all squirmed uncomfortably. Meanwhile, I’m grinning like an idiot and trying to convey by my demeanor that in fact, I did NOT have an oily bag from a Muslim terrorist in my pocket; I was making, as the French say “ze leetle joke”; and all the time regretting my naive attempt to lighten what must be for these people a mind-numbing idiot-work routine with a little levity. Eventually, an alpha rose up and took the herd in hand, and said “Sir, we don’t joke about these things around here” and fluttered me off to the concourse before I could throw sand in the baggage conveyor belt. I realize now it could have been a lot worse, but I was a neophyte flier at that point.
I don’t joke about those things around there no mo.
I tried to take my lovely brass-and-rosewood handled Manilla Folder butterfly knife into the courthouse when I was serving on jury duty. I’d had that knife for years and it was simply an accessory of my everyday life. I never thought of it as a weapon in any way, shape, or form. Sadly, the nice deppity who confiscated it didn’t see it my way. I was even naive enough to ask if I could have it back when I left. I think I made his day.
Sausages. Specifically, Austrian sausages.
A friend of mine and I had been on a ski trip to Austria, and we’d bought some Slim-Jim style sausage things to munch on while on the slopes. He had them in his waist pack and forgot about them completely.
The beagle at Boston alerted on them when we came back through Customs. Off both of us go to the little room to have our bags minutely inspected, and a friendly frisking.
After a stern talking to (as I battled the urge to laugh), they let us go.
It’s illegal to bring stuff like that back into the US of A. The signs are all over the place. Pay attention to them, and…
Just say NO to sausage smuggling.
Well…there was the time I innocently enough forgot that I was going through an airport and left about 20 hand rolled cigarettes in my carry-on.
I first realized I had them in there when, after passing through the security gates I heard the conveyor belt with my bag on it reverse and propel my bag back through the scanner. Then it reversed again and my bag popped out the end just like normal. I picked it up and walked off- they didn’t even ask me questions.
Looking back on this I really have to wonder about the people who were manning the station that day…
Friend of mine does a lot of lobbying up in Washington - he was in and out of the capitol building carrying his trusty 3 inch pocket knife with him for about a week. Came home and we went off to the local courthouse for something. The Deputy (Barney Fife?) at the small town reception desk almost had a fit - wanted to confiscate it but we raised so much cain that we got to stow it away in a locker and get it when we left. Funny now, thoroughly annoying then.
Every plane trip I have ever taken has seen the following items on my person/in my carryon:
Leatherman
Swiss Army knife
several small screwdrivers
wad of chainmail (I noticed once that it looked amazingly like a grenade on-screen)
8" spike (for winding new chainmail links)
2 pairs of pliers and a pair of boltcutters (more chainmail tools)
small spool of wire (raw material)
I’ve never been stopped, searched, or questioned. Maybe I just have a trustworthy face…
when I was little me and my brother had these orange see-through Spiderman water guns. Party favor type things. They got confiscated; we were told we could get them on the way back home but I guess my parents must have forgotten about that . . .
A mirror.
I’m serious. I got stopped and asked to empty my purse on the table in front of a very large scary looking security guard because I was carrying a pocket mirror. Apparently the X-ray image was all goofed up because the metal backing on the mirror happened to be at just the wrong angle.
I’ve checked this with other women, by the way, and confirmed it: you will only ever be asked to empty out your purse when you’re carrying extra tampons and/or sanitary pads… and when there are NOSY PARKERS behind you who have to gawk at the sight of giggle giggle feminine hygeine products!!! Sheesh. I would have poked their eyes out, but I really, really had to catch that plane…
Sorry to continue this mini-hijack, but it’s very good. (I just saw it last week.) Terry Gilliam is great.
I’ve never had a problem carrying on pocketknives- but mine are usually pretty mundane swiss-army type deals.
Gee…I must look honest or something…I’ve made it onto airplanes carrying an automotive alternator in a backpack…not once, but twice!
I had my bags ripped apart one time because my toe-nail clippers had flopped open and looked conspicuously like a knife in the X-Ray machine.
Good thing they didn’t find my pot.
(Just kidding - as far as you know)