Aaaahh, fuck you all.
God, I'm so fucking bored. And tired. I got no fucking sleep last night, thanks to some asshole who snuck into my yard and tried stealing my phonebook.
See, I don't use phonebooks. They just don't work for me. But the city thinks I desire a phonebook, despite several attempts on my part to dissuade them of this belief, so I get one every fucking week. I don't think they even update it every week. I think they update it every few months. So why the fuck am I getting one every week? Fucking bastards!
Anyways, I don't always pick up my phonebook which I don't use as soon as I see it, so it'll usually sit out a couple days before I throw it in the trash. Does this mean I don't want to throw it in the trash? Does this mean I wish to not be given the opportunity to throw it in the trash? No. No it does not. Well, partially. I don't really want to deal with it, but I do like throwing things away, because I know it's all going to some landfill somewhere that'll help kill our fragile ecosystem. So I was understandably a little pissed when I saw some jackass sneak a meter and a half into my lawn (in clear view of the sign reading 'trespassers will be shot, and i will sell their delicious organs to the mexicans down the street'), grab my phonebook, and slink off. Man! Outrageous! What kind of city is this, where it's not safe to leave your phonebook on your lawn for a few days? I grabbed my shotgun and sprang for the door, kicked it down (okay, that wasn't neccessary, but it was pretty cool, this is why I replaced the thick oak door with a cheap plywood one) and began the hunt!
That wily little hobo thought he was gonna get away because it was dark out, but I outsmarted him. He got a block and a half away before I slammed into him with my* car - didn't count on headlights, didja buddy? - and recovered my phonebook. I had such a sense of like, uh, what's the feeling you get when you do good deeds? Well, whatever that's called, I had that feeling in spades. This has led me to believe that maybe I should try becoming a cop. I mean, how many people can chase down and hit a fleeing hobo in a hotwired chevvy? I would be like, the best cop everr.
But, yeah. Sadly, I was so happy about getting back my phonebook that I didn't follow through and sell his delicious organs to the mexicans down the street. I bet they went for a walk later and were like, "A hoboful of delicioso organs! mama mia! senorita! tortillia no mas! pour que, pour que!" and shit... I never get the credit I deserve for these things. Anyways, I went home, put the phonebook back in the imprint of dead grass on the lawn, and couldn't get back to sleep 'cuz I jjust kept thinkin'... what if someone was out there trying to steal my phonebook before I got a chance to throw it away? So I made popcorn and watched Night of the Living Dead, I always think the ending to that is so funny (but I won't ruin it because you guys probably haven't watched it yet.. aren't I nice? Yet another reason I'd be a good cop. Oh well, fuck you guys, the black guy leaves the basement and gets shot).
*finders keepers.
See, I don't use phonebooks. They just don't work for me. But the city thinks I desire a phonebook, despite several attempts on my part to dissuade them of this belief, so I get one every fucking week. I don't think they even update it every week. I think they update it every few months. So why the fuck am I getting one every week? Fucking bastards!
Anyways, I don't always pick up my phonebook which I don't use as soon as I see it, so it'll usually sit out a couple days before I throw it in the trash. Does this mean I don't want to throw it in the trash? Does this mean I wish to not be given the opportunity to throw it in the trash? No. No it does not. Well, partially. I don't really want to deal with it, but I do like throwing things away, because I know it's all going to some landfill somewhere that'll help kill our fragile ecosystem. So I was understandably a little pissed when I saw some jackass sneak a meter and a half into my lawn (in clear view of the sign reading 'trespassers will be shot, and i will sell their delicious organs to the mexicans down the street'), grab my phonebook, and slink off. Man! Outrageous! What kind of city is this, where it's not safe to leave your phonebook on your lawn for a few days? I grabbed my shotgun and sprang for the door, kicked it down (okay, that wasn't neccessary, but it was pretty cool, this is why I replaced the thick oak door with a cheap plywood one) and began the hunt!
That wily little hobo thought he was gonna get away because it was dark out, but I outsmarted him. He got a block and a half away before I slammed into him with my* car - didn't count on headlights, didja buddy? - and recovered my phonebook. I had such a sense of like, uh, what's the feeling you get when you do good deeds? Well, whatever that's called, I had that feeling in spades. This has led me to believe that maybe I should try becoming a cop. I mean, how many people can chase down and hit a fleeing hobo in a hotwired chevvy? I would be like, the best cop everr.
But, yeah. Sadly, I was so happy about getting back my phonebook that I didn't follow through and sell his delicious organs to the mexicans down the street. I bet they went for a walk later and were like, "A hoboful of delicioso organs! mama mia! senorita! tortillia no mas! pour que, pour que!" and shit... I never get the credit I deserve for these things. Anyways, I went home, put the phonebook back in the imprint of dead grass on the lawn, and couldn't get back to sleep 'cuz I jjust kept thinkin'... what if someone was out there trying to steal my phonebook before I got a chance to throw it away? So I made popcorn and watched Night of the Living Dead, I always think the ending to that is so funny (but I won't ruin it because you guys probably haven't watched it yet.. aren't I nice? Yet another reason I'd be a good cop. Oh well, fuck you guys, the black guy leaves the basement and gets shot).
*finders keepers.
posted by ☭CRUSH you. at 1:01 PM
8 Comments:
Wow, what kind of indecent person would steal a phonebook? Don't they know how precious those things are? That is just so wrong. Sorry you had to go through that.
But at least you got the pleasure of chasing him down so at least it wasn't all that bad.
Yeah. Phone books suck, but it WAS your property. So who the hell was he?
Who's Chevy did you hotwire?
lil- chasing is funn.
beefy - He was just some bum. They're all around here. Along with hookers, drug dealers, and a variety of other fun people. And the chevvy was just... uh, probably the russki's, they have a church nearby where they're always hanging out, those assholes are always parking out front too.
1. I liked your link about racist slurrs. Since I am a racist, I will be using it often.
2. You are a parrty-pooopper when it comes to my scientific posts. That's because you like credible and reliable sources. I say: Where would the Fundamentalist Christians be without made-up sources? Not in school textbooks, I can assure you.
3. Maybe the hobo needed toilet paper, and that's why he stole it.
4. I bet the neighbors are glad you take vigilante justice so seriously. Really...it is good to see people care about their property.
5. I got robbed three times in Omaha. It made me appreciate the lack of material stuff. Really, it did.
6. I think I may have cancerr.
By the way, I have dedicated yet another post to you.
1. Yeah, you sure do hate those foreigners.
2. Me? A party pooper? Nahhh. I just make viscious, coldhearted strikes at the heart of your arguments then leave.
3. I hate homeless people, they can wipe their asses on someone else's phonebook.
4. They didn't know it was me, they always take these things wrong anyways though. One time I set up a mailbox bomb for my neighbor who was having problems with people stealing his mail - he was stupid enough to open it himself. You think he was like "Oh thank you so much for helping me with my stolen mail problem"? Nooo. He was just all, screaming, and on fire, and like rolling around on the ground. I guess in all fairness I was the one stealing his mail, but still. He didn't know that, so I believe thanks were in order.
5. Omaha? That state's always been pretty lame.
6. You probably do, I hear having cancer gives you herpes.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
n stuff.
you pieca shitta racist zenophobic small-font scriber...how da hell can I read dat weenie write? Not into weenie stuff. I like big, yeah so wot my highly-testosteroned tough-gal side says size matters. Cant curse you too much since we seem to have so many deviant interests in common...spose its not so much a case of birds but rather fukkers flokk together.
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