By the way: I was walking along a parking lot with my brother Ryan tonight, and we came across a DWI warded off testing zone. Traffic cones, large buses, some cars, the works. And as my brother and I were walking into the test sight (keep in mind: nobody around, 11:30 at night, two non-drunks looking to get drunk), some cop whistles at us and tells us not to enter the zone. "This is a barricaded area, can't you tell?" he asked us, pointing to eight strikingly small traffic cones that formed a rectangle. We grumbled. Oh, here's another variation on the tamarins.
So we just gave the cop some lip (all my brother, I promise) and went about our way. Is it a power trip? How useless are we, sometimes? Oh, but he should have been shooting up a crime alley, right? Ah, sweet dada...give me some time to be a clown, or a criminal, or something. This all really happened. And here's another version of our cute little guys.
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