..but then having weaved in and out of traffic at Times Square, my theory that I may be a "person of interest" (I was strangely singled out for the random check during each trip through customs - and you try finding a believable excuse for wearing this outfit. "Sorry officer, it's the only thing I had clean in the wardrobe") was strengthened with this interesting turn of events.
A man who likes to take his clothes off in public...and the Naked Cowboy.
Beer and baseball at Yankee stadium. I couldn't be living the American dream more if I was shooting someone in self defense, saying "have a nice day", holding a 3 quarter pounder burger, and placing a vote in Florida that wouldn't be counted.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhL08nWTWgonw8J7Fj7uOwu_1oja7Wgsmi4soWkMxw8NWRuPnpBgvZq1yOjDZFxgQbICLyWWq8tHjl4lrIpb7V1abwnm9HLsFRkQsg_Ioua_RtzIOB9Ke7L1QtcUhdu7RduQKL_G4JqZJ-/s400/photo.jpg)
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Whilst riding the Subway, someone looked at me and then offered me the disabled seat.
Let's play Spot The Tourist
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