About six months ago, the apartment I was living in at the time got robbed. Today, a detective called to tell me there’d been a DNA hit in the case — the burglar, besides being a burglar, also took a healthy swig out of my lemonade carton. That’s rude.
The detective also sent over a mugshot of the person whose DNA was found on my lemonade carton. He’s in jail for something else currently. Thieving picnic baskets, is my guess.
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