Posted January 1st, 2007 (9:23 pm) || Comments Off
Well, after somebody stole my ashtray, again, I decided I wouldn’t bother buying another one. I’m cutting down, and not smoking as much, and when I finally quit I won’t need one. So why bother? Well guess what? Apparently whoever has been stealing my ashtray was so put out they decided to steal my rock. My rock! A painted rock I got from my mother. My mother hand painted that rock. Okay, it wasn’t worth more than any other rock, but damn it, it was MY ROCK! Who the hell steals a fucking rock? It’s a rock!!!
Well, I’m considering nailing down everything on my porch now. Either that or setting out other things for the thief to steal so he doesn’t steal my good shit. What the hell can I do really? Maybe I should hope he steals my chairs and table. They’re crappy plastic, cracked, and we can’t take them with us when we move anyway. That’s it. I’ll just leave them out there and the damn thief can take them whenever he likes. Fuck him.
Update 2007-01-14: My table is gone now too.