Designer purse brands are many - not an issue of People, In Style, or US Weekly goes by without pictures of a celebrity carrying the latest must-have bag.
Birkin, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Betsy Johnson, the list goes on and on.
But who needs a brand new expensive Coach when you've got a well worn, broken in kootch?
Meet 46 Ann Hernandez of Florida...
Ann was arrested and now stands accused of stealing someone's ID, violating their charge accounts, opening additional accounts, etc. When police apprehended her, it didn't take much of a poke and Prada for her to retrieve the stolen woman's ID from her, um, Juicy Couture. Yes, she had crammed them into her Vagley Mischka.
Ann, however, is not the only criminal who has made use of their secret compartments.
John David Hall used his hidden vault, you know the one, the dark Kenneth Hole Cole behind his, ahhh, Dooney and Burke? He crammed a marijuana pipe in his back Door Dior when police pulled him over for making an illegal U-turn.
Tiffany Giumo used her Gwen Stufani to cram full of 47 balloons of heroin. UGG.
But the winner in the CLEVER CARRIAGE hiding spot has to be this gent:
Meet Antoin Banks of Kentucky. When police searched him after being arrested, he could not Fendi off their efforts. And you'll never Guess where his contraband was lurking. Hidden in the tip of his Longchamp was a bag of crack cocaine. Yes, that's right - Antoin was able to secret drugs under his foreskin.
While looking for the Youtubed version of the video in the previous entry, I stumbled upon this one from last year. Tears now cover my keyboard.
I have two outdoors cats I call the Feral-ly Brothers, Pixel and Ninja. They have been around since their mother started bringing them to my porch a year ago as babies. In that year, they have become "my boys". They are there on my back patio every morning, they snooze in the afternoon sun, and at night they curl up on the towel covered heating pad I have outside for them.
Even when I go out without food, they talk to me, rub up against me, beg to be stroked, have their ears rubbed. And Pixel and I even touch noses once a day.
For the past week, Pixel has not shown up. I'm not stupid. I know what that means, and it is not good. My heart hurts each time I go out and see Ninja waiting, looking more than a little lost. He knows his brother is gone. Just as I do.