My redneck posse used to get awfully bored in rural LA. We got stopped once after curfew in my old Impala with the back seat full of street signs. There we were, four girls in Budweiser jackets stuffed in the front seat, and he didn't even look in the back, just told us to "Go on home."
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timeasmymeasure
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Man, were we lucky little delinquents.