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Open Letter to the pathetic miscreant who broke into my car last night
I noticed your handiwork this morning. Doors unlocked, glove compartment papers littered about the front seats, armrest lid wide open. Dejectedly I climbed in to survey the damage, but was surprised to notice that only a single thing had been taken - the ashtray, which had contained exactly 8 pennies. Everything else had been left behind.
What's the deal, thief? Were the contents of my car beneath you? Are you too good to take my stuff? Is that it? I'm actually offended. Or at least I was, until I realized that this had not been the act of some elitist car thief, but instead the desperate act of some poor, pathetic soul.
Let's see. You didn't take a single one of my bouncy balls that look like pool balls, or my mini Fat Cat statue in the back window. I suppose that being emaciated and scrawny (as you undoubtedly are, having grown up in a dingy back room of a rat-infested warehouse because you were abandoned as a child once your parents realized what a worthless lump of flesh they had on their hands) such items might have been difficult for you to take. I mean, what other sane reason would there be to leave those behind?
The bouncy balls, after all, do require some capability of physical competence, and had you tried to use them, you probably would have broken your arm and a few ribs trying to fetch it. In fact, perhaps the very idea of interacting with another moving object was too much for you to take, sending you into spasmatic convulsions - this would explain the two quarters I found curiously scattered on the floor of the car.
The cat meanwhile weighs about two pounds and thus was too heavy for your weak, feeble limbs to carry away. How the cat must have mocked you! Fat and content in its pleasant existence, sitting in the car and basking in the warm sun each day, while you scrabble in the dirty weeds behind the Wendy's, lapping up half-empty drinks and nibbling at discarded pickles.
I noticed that you also passed over my Cocktail soundtrack tape too. What the heck? Who passes up that? But you also overlooked the Star Wars soundtrack and Whitesnake tapes, so I suppose that you are just woefully ignorant when it comes to musical quality. It is a shame, really - perhaps some music would have been comforting on those cold, lonely nights where the only sounds are your own pathetic whimpering.
Also left behind were not one, but two pairs of broken sunglasses. Granted, one pair was broken beyond all redemption, but the other would have still been wearable with some minor adjustments. Why didn't you take those, horrible creature of the night? Were you afraid that the shades wouldn't fit onto your grossly mishapen, dented skull? Would the emotional trauma of being thwarted by an inanimate hunk of plastic have been too much for you to bear?
The drink holder did not escape your pitiful wrath. It seems you attempted to rip it out of its moorings, for some inexplicable reason. I was amused to observe that even in a senseless act of pointless destruction, you failed, managing to only break off the corner of one of the cup rings. Devastated, you tossed the broken piece aside to the floor, yourself a broken and shattered being.
The copper salt and pepper shakers in the e-brake well must have been the final straw. After all, is there anything more cruel to a gutter snipe such as yourself, who has to scrounge and beg for sustenance, than condiments? I think not. To make matters worse, these particular shakers look like shotgun shells, which probably just twisted the proverbial knife in your tattered heart. Clearly you would end your wretched life had you the means and the courage to do so, but by now it is obvious you are a sad little coward who skulks about at night just trying to survive.
You also left behind the plush Bend It Like Beckham soccer ball on my dashboard, the 11-year-old unused deodorant stick, and the brand-new lightbulb in the backseat. But I figure that by now you just want to end this disgraceful farce of a break and enter. Also, it's unfortunate but not surprising that you were too stupid to pop the trunk, as that's where I keep the real prizes. If not for your unfaltering dimwittery, you could have been the proud owner of Good Guys Wear Black starring Chuck Norris, a pool noodle that's been chopped in half, and a full-sized real estate sign. Your loss.
And so you limped off into the night, tears and snot dripping down your horrible face. Your scabrous hands clutched your night's prizes, 8 pennies, the most money you had ever seen. Maybe you found an alley with some warm garbage bags to nestle into. Maybe you curled up in the mud behind the train tracks. Who knows? More importantly, who cares? No one. Farewell, pathetic car thief miscreant.
[posted by Rades at 11:20 AM] LINK ||
I noticed your handiwork this morning. Doors unlocked, glove compartment papers littered about the front seats, armrest lid wide open. Dejectedly I climbed in to survey the damage, but was surprised to notice that only a single thing had been taken - the ashtray, which had contained exactly 8 pennies. Everything else had been left behind.
What's the deal, thief? Were the contents of my car beneath you? Are you too good to take my stuff? Is that it? I'm actually offended. Or at least I was, until I realized that this had not been the act of some elitist car thief, but instead the desperate act of some poor, pathetic soul.
Let's see. You didn't take a single one of my bouncy balls that look like pool balls, or my mini Fat Cat statue in the back window. I suppose that being emaciated and scrawny (as you undoubtedly are, having grown up in a dingy back room of a rat-infested warehouse because you were abandoned as a child once your parents realized what a worthless lump of flesh they had on their hands) such items might have been difficult for you to take. I mean, what other sane reason would there be to leave those behind?
The bouncy balls, after all, do require some capability of physical competence, and had you tried to use them, you probably would have broken your arm and a few ribs trying to fetch it. In fact, perhaps the very idea of interacting with another moving object was too much for you to take, sending you into spasmatic convulsions - this would explain the two quarters I found curiously scattered on the floor of the car.
The cat meanwhile weighs about two pounds and thus was too heavy for your weak, feeble limbs to carry away. How the cat must have mocked you! Fat and content in its pleasant existence, sitting in the car and basking in the warm sun each day, while you scrabble in the dirty weeds behind the Wendy's, lapping up half-empty drinks and nibbling at discarded pickles.
I noticed that you also passed over my Cocktail soundtrack tape too. What the heck? Who passes up that? But you also overlooked the Star Wars soundtrack and Whitesnake tapes, so I suppose that you are just woefully ignorant when it comes to musical quality. It is a shame, really - perhaps some music would have been comforting on those cold, lonely nights where the only sounds are your own pathetic whimpering.
Also left behind were not one, but two pairs of broken sunglasses. Granted, one pair was broken beyond all redemption, but the other would have still been wearable with some minor adjustments. Why didn't you take those, horrible creature of the night? Were you afraid that the shades wouldn't fit onto your grossly mishapen, dented skull? Would the emotional trauma of being thwarted by an inanimate hunk of plastic have been too much for you to bear?
The drink holder did not escape your pitiful wrath. It seems you attempted to rip it out of its moorings, for some inexplicable reason. I was amused to observe that even in a senseless act of pointless destruction, you failed, managing to only break off the corner of one of the cup rings. Devastated, you tossed the broken piece aside to the floor, yourself a broken and shattered being.
The copper salt and pepper shakers in the e-brake well must have been the final straw. After all, is there anything more cruel to a gutter snipe such as yourself, who has to scrounge and beg for sustenance, than condiments? I think not. To make matters worse, these particular shakers look like shotgun shells, which probably just twisted the proverbial knife in your tattered heart. Clearly you would end your wretched life had you the means and the courage to do so, but by now it is obvious you are a sad little coward who skulks about at night just trying to survive.
You also left behind the plush Bend It Like Beckham soccer ball on my dashboard, the 11-year-old unused deodorant stick, and the brand-new lightbulb in the backseat. But I figure that by now you just want to end this disgraceful farce of a break and enter. Also, it's unfortunate but not surprising that you were too stupid to pop the trunk, as that's where I keep the real prizes. If not for your unfaltering dimwittery, you could have been the proud owner of Good Guys Wear Black starring Chuck Norris, a pool noodle that's been chopped in half, and a full-sized real estate sign. Your loss.
And so you limped off into the night, tears and snot dripping down your horrible face. Your scabrous hands clutched your night's prizes, 8 pennies, the most money you had ever seen. Maybe you found an alley with some warm garbage bags to nestle into. Maybe you curled up in the mud behind the train tracks. Who knows? More importantly, who cares? No one. Farewell, pathetic car thief miscreant.
[posted by Rades at 11:20 AM] LINK ||