One time I was walking down a cold road with C and P (yup, I love Gossip Girl), and they were smoking pipes. JW (andyoudon'tmesswithhimcausehe'sapastor) was walking up the hill towards us, and they started freaking out, even though it was totally legal. So, naturally, P stuck the burning thing INTO HIS POCKET, and C held his at his side, smoke rising up from somewhere near where his appendix would be, I suppose. It was like Christians are never allowed to smoke. J probably thought we were crazy, because of smoke being all around us anyways.

But thinking about it, randomly, in the middle of work, I always laugh out loud. And the old, Russian ladies with painted on eyebrows and fur coats love me all the more for it.