Well, long pants are ... I mean... long, and you never know when you may need a water kettle.
So that there is what appears to be a girl, sitting in a bathtub, perusing a heavy binded period article, drenched in white sauce. A typical Thursday night, really.
Ah, of course, wearing your favorite bikini-croc and trucker hat combo, wielding a bottle of J&B and a chainsaw whilst dancing on top of a sheriff's car. This would have been a perfectly normal Saturday night on the East side except that I know, for a fact, that I just did that two hours ago. Really, I mean, doesn't everybody?
And that's my arresting photograph, I managed to get my cloth back on. The officer didn't.
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