Dammit. This morning I woke up pissed that my car was stolen.
I know that's normal. I feel violated. I wonder if it would have made a difference to them if they knew who I was, the work I do, the passions I have...the hope that I have for all communities to prosper...
but for now I feel pissed because my tent was in Jane's trunk. So was my PFD for the river, and music that seems irreplacable and a pair of sandals Frances and Maritza gave me.
Damn.
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3 comments:
May the car thieves find themselves in a ditch somewhere with a Dueling Banjoes serenade. I was furious when my bike was stolen from the shed in the back of my house. I don't know WHAT I would do or feel if the car was stolen. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
Oh, and FYI - you ARE pretty; it wasn't the suit. :-)
You have my sympathies. This is obviously part of the downside of the urban lifestyle.
Nobody who steals cars gives a room temperature shit what the owner thinks, does or believes - they just know that the person owns a car.
Needless to say, if I were in charge, car thieves and the chop shop owners that empower them would be sent straight to the bastinado for "re-education".
I appreciate the love, y'all.
I also realized a stuffed otter puppet for my friend Mike was in there =(
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