Watch your step tonight. There’s going to be horses with cop-jockeys stalking the streets of I.V.

Personally, I’m not sure how we’re going to handle the smell.

But, then again, those poor horses have to deal with the smell and carry the fuckers, so I guess I shouldn’t complain.

Friday’s forecast: It’s gonna rain, people. So let’s go Woodstock ’99 on their asses. Let’s see ’em try to arrest us when we’re all naked and slippery.