Oh The Douchebaggery

Man, my timing is priceless.

The last blog I wrote was all about my recent fascination with the television show Cops.

And all the while I am sitting behind the relative safety of my laptop eating crackerjacks and applying lotion.

I am a pretty lucky girl.

I have had a few run-ins with the 5.0, and always manage to squeeze my way out of a jam.
I have an unparalleled ability to cue crocodile tears at will.

Take that, Sucka!

So yesterday was just unbelievably gorgeous up in the R.I.

Day at the beach, anyone?

My co-conspirator and I took off to S. Kingston early in the A.M..

I dunno' if it was the fact that I was pretty close to full-frontal (holla' bathing suit season--I equally love and hate you!) or that it was early enough that the sun had yet to do its thing....
but it was chilly and I required a blanket.

I threw that shit on myself and fell fast asleep.

4 hours---COUNT 'EM---four hours later I awoke.
My blanket/sun-shield had long since been discarded, unveiling what can only be described as a wicked pissah' bad sunburn.

You'd think I would learn.

Nah, not so much.

The fact that I got sincerely lobstered is not the surprise twist.

NO!

My friend and I got busted doing things that may just be construed as, ahem, illegal.

Our cop was sooo genuinely cool that he might just have ruined the reputation of R.I. cops everywhere .

So, though I may have skin that rivals that of an inside out pig...

I am not in jail.

Word!