I love Cops. I love it when they pull some guy over, and he has all this drug paraphernalia in his pockets, and his story is "these aren't my pants - I just borrowed these pants from someone." And somehow they think the cops will believe this. Or they pull over a car, and the trunk is full of stuff from a store with the tags still on, and the people driving the car say they have no idea how it got in the trunk. "Somebody must have put that stuff in the trunk while we were in the restaurant." I don't know why this amuses me so much, but it does. I'm also surprisingly entertained by the interior decorating in the homes of criminals, when the cops break into their homes to arrest them. Lots of big-screen TVs, velvet paintings of Elvis, fake wood paneling, hula dancer lamps.
Teresa