Yes, the little shitlickers who broke into our house yesterday will be carrying about 1lb of Aunt Mary’s Ol’ Fashioned Nut Butter in their pants if I get the chance. You violated the sanctity of our house, made me very mad, and made my wife cry. For this you must, nay, will pay.
The police suspect high school kids on lunch break. I agree. Sure, it was only a small score. Some jewelry and a bottle of wine. Have fun with it. Impress you feeble minded friends. Here’s an inventory in case you need it:
My wife’s sorority and pledge pins
The gold necklace I bought for my wife for her birthday when we first started dating
And the heart-shaped charm she attached to it
The bracelet we bought together on our honeymoon
Various costume jewelry pieces
Total value - maybe $200. Sentimental value was a lot more.
So rest assured - you will be caught. I have no doubt. Someone as sophmoric as you will fuck up sooner rather than later. And there will be an unholy shitstorm unleashed on your ass.
What’s that? As a young offender, your name won’t be released? Maybe not in the newspaper, but I’ll sure broadcast it. Your picture will appear on flyers on every telephone pole in the area. I will personally ensure that you never get a job. Ever. Not that you could - even at your best I question your ability to remember to say “Would you like to add an Apple Pie for only 79 cents?”.
Garbage probably talks down to you. The police tell me the maximum sentence for Break and Enter is life in prison. I’ll see that you get it. You’re a fuck. You’re a tool. And I’ll bet you smell bad. You are lucky we did not raise our cat to be an Attack Kitty lest you get the opportunity to measure the length of your intestines. I wish I came home early yesterday so I could push the limits of “self defense”.
So sit back smug in your triumph for now. I’m coming for you. To quote, I’ll shove your head so far up your ass you’ll be able to taste your food twice. I’ll find inventive uses for pool cues. You’ll get the chance to taste raw sewage. Then I’ll let my wife at you. Someone had best pray for your soul at that point, poor bastard…
My thanks to the Peel Regional Police and Constable Davidson who, despite the relative minor nature of the crime, sent a forensics unit to our house to check fingerprints on a bottle of wine. The fucker(s) moved one bottle to get at another to steal (guess that didn’t like the Riesling that was in front). While the fingerprints they pulled are most likely from our friends who gave us the wine originally, at least we’ll find out if they have criminal records…
This strikes me as a Very Bad Idea. I’m almost positive there’s a law against this.
At any rate, I sympathize. The other week, someone opened the front door of my parents’ house while my mom was there, reached in, grabbed her knapsack, and made off with it. She found her ID card looped around the front door and her pens on the sidewalk. Huge hassle, and it freaked me out, too.
My roommate was robbed at the store where he works. The guy cleaned out the cash and stole his wallet for good measure. The thief was a former employee, so they had his name, address, social security, everything on file, but the police never followed up. :rolleyes:
Some assfucks down in Arizona robbed the apartment of a sick and elderly friend of mine, took her wedding ring, a gold heirloom that was the last gift of her dead mother, and many things that were beyond precious to her. If I were to find who did it, I would give them MUCH, MUCH more than a kick in the balls. I’m thinking a cannon and manual replacement of the bones with salt, without anasthesia. But it’s you, not me.
These petty scum really piss me off. I give you my sympathy, and advise you to find some way to get the terrorist label on them for full prosecution.
Theives in general piss me off, but people who steal from other people’s houses piss me off the most. You totally destroy those people’s sense of safety (in a way that isn’t the same as a store getting ripped off), and the things you steal may be of great sentimental value and be totally irreplaceable. Something that you steal and sell for $10 may mean more to the person you took it from than the entire rest of their posessions combined.
My house has been broken into twice, both times while we were moving. The first time, it was people collecting on a debt. Except it wasn’t our debt, it was a friend of ours’ … his no good drug dealer friends didn’t care, though, they took our stuff to settle his debt. The other time people stole all of our silverware and dishes (wedding gifts) our vacuum cleaner, and our washer and dryer! These people were prepared! I think it was the neighbors.
Since moving to Virginia, we had a bunch of still-packed boxes stolen from storage at our apartment building.
The saddest part for me? I haven’t seen (though I’ve searched) the video tape (the only one!) of my son’s ultrasounds and birth (video taped from over my shoulder, appropriate for mixed company of all ages), and the first couple of days of his life. That video tape … oh man I want to cry when I think of it… I could never replace that. It is impossible. The look on my mother’s face as she burst into tears when Dominic was born… my mother who never showed an emotion toward me in her whole life! The first time his father held him… the first time his grandparents saw him…
I think it was stolen in a box of “stuff” one of those times that we were robbed. The person who stole it probably either threw it away or taped over it. I guess there is some slight possibility that it still exsists and that I’ll find it some day, but I don’t count on it. It breaks my heart.
I have decided that if there was one magical power I could have, it would not be Beer Out Of Nowhere, or Flight, but Whupass at a Distance - or, if I had my nice face on, Heartwrenching Guilt and Unstoppable Compulsion to Confess at a Distance. I’d point my finger, and shazam.
I know that in Canada, judges issue Publication Bans on Young Offenders. This only prevents the media from releasing the name. I don’t believe this applies to private citizens forwarding the information. Perhaps the posting of the name on poles would be considered publishing, but the rules seem quite hazy.
I am not a lawyer, I don’t even play one on TV, but I do work for a provincial Justice department (IT) and I was on a project where we had to consider BOP (Ban on Publication) as part of the system design.
But I agree, kick the fuckers hard for me when you can
