To the fucknugget who stole my presents and my cell phone from my car:
You sure better have needed those dinky little Christmas presents more than I did. And my pay-as-you-go cellphone? Not going to get you very far, you loser.
It’s the abuse of trust, the feeling that things aren’t safe, that’s worse than the stuff I lost. At least they were presents I received, rather than presents I was GIVING. I can take the loss of the material things – 3 or 4 different kinds of tea, a jacket, some body butter, and a used DVD.
Thanks for making my dad’s home no longer a safe place to be. I hope the karmic burden you got by stealing is worth the paltry pleasure you’d get from my gifts.
You stupid asswipes. I hate you. Christmas was already depressing enough. Now you’ve ruined it for my whole family.
I spent twenty minutes at work, this morning fuming and reviling whatever “pond scum” stole the new clothes left for a client to wear home for Christmas.
Then someone told me that they were in the office closet, so they wouldn’t be put away, or worn and washed before today. So, then I spent twenty minutes telling everyone, “OK, I take back the whole “pond scum” thing.”
That’s a shitty thing to happen to a very good and kind person, and I’m sorry. Don’t let them drag you down to their petty level, you’re worlds better than that and always will be.
If it had been in my neighborhood down here in Macon I’d have murdalized them for you. I’m not as kind a person!
At which point his ribcage will burst and spew forth all the hoary and vile contents of his thoracic cavity onto the sidewalk and a passing ebola-ridden pitbull will grab hold of them in its slimy jaws and will, with one great shake of its head, take off with him still attached to the entrails, screaming and bouncing along the curb and across the square as a sign to others of what happens when you steal.
Thanks for the kind words, guys (especially Nawth Chucka ) It’s mostly the loss of trust that really hurts, the feeling that my dad’s house isn’t a safe haven to come to anymore.
Last year somebody stole my outdoor extension cord and timer on Christmas Eve. You know, the one running my lights. (I’d chained the sea lion to a bush to prevent theft.) I didn’t even do lights this year, I’m still so mad and hurt about it.
Sorry, but I laughed. Truth is there really isn’t anywhere outside of a gated community with armed guards that patrol around your treelawn that’s actually a safe place, and even that isn’t a sure thing. Leaving vauables in plain sight in your car is just not a good move if you hope to retain said valuables for a long time no matter where you are.
I know, I know. But it’s in a small town in middle Georgia. The stuff was unattended for maybe 45 mins., which means that some miscreant was probably keeping an eye out for unattended cars. I’m just not used to thinking of my home town that way.
It’s just really depressing that life has come to this.
) It’s mostly the loss of trust that really hurts, the feeling that my dad’s house isn’t a safe haven to come to anymore. 
