As my public knows, I scintillate good taste and manners. So why does my idiot father insist on photographing in a moment of relaxation? The smooth, soothing vapors of Nip waft about me. I am in repose in my “nip box.” My privacy has been invaded.
It’s well known that I am not reluctant to pose for the camera. But this paparazzi routine is just too much!