Meanwhile in Louisiana…

Each night I walk to my dad’s house. What can I say, I am a little attached. Mind you we do not live in the country, but apparently we now have neighbors whose chickens roam the neighborhood. I haven’t seen the pitbulls lately, so perhaps the chickens took care of them? The mean chicken police of Louisiana. Watch out they will cut a bitch.

I’m pretty sure this one is the Sheriff.

Clearly living on the edge here. I dare you to cross this street, punk.

I’m going to need to see your papers.