I was minding my own business watching Judge Judy, like I always do, when in comes the defendant, wearing what I call MY purple pimp jacket. I ran up the stairs to make sure the purple pimp jacket was still in my closet, and it was. When I knew my pimp jacket was safe and secure, and that this dude hadn’t burglarized my house to take it, I plopped back down in front of the television. I couldn’t help but cheer for the dapperly dressed man as he tried to explain his way out of the shenanigans that made him end up as a defendant on Judge Judy. Alas! He was shady, through-and-through. Even the bolo tie couldn’t save him. I felt especially bad for his jacket. It hadn’t been adopted into a good home like mine, clearly.
Anyhoo… The guilty dude has a swell jacket just like mine, but he has neither my Prince-Albert-in-a-can Bow Tie o’ the Day, nor does he have my 2002 Funeral Potatoes Olympic pin that I so proudly display here in my purple pimp jacket’s lapel. I win.
😁