You have a pointI don't know what is worse. The picture in your lap in the car, the picture from far away and includes your weird feet, or the picture of the gun on your un-made bed and filthy sheets in your sad bedroom without a single "live, laugh, love" poster or a picture on the wall.
It's like trying to sell your car without bothering to give it a quick wash or picking up the trash from the passenger floor board.

