Talk about a real crack-head…

Several years ago, I found a delightful book. It was a collection of dumb-criminal stories. It took its title from one story of a guy pulled over for a traffic violation. The police searched him, and found drugs in his pocket. His defense? “These aren’t my pants!”

That story came to mind when I read this report in the Boston Herald. Of all the places on your person to hide your drug stash from the police, this is the first time I’ve heard of that particular body part being used… and her denial is positively Shakespearean.

Perhaps King Claudius planted the drugs on her…

The only "draft" is the one blowing through Rangel's Ears
A Cruel Stroke of Fate to be Born to into Radical Islam