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Oh and im pretty sure they are gonna come back. So for the next month I'm going to burrow my friend's PS3 box and xbox 360 box and put it in the back seat and park by the street light across my house. And play the waiting game with a baseball bat in hand and a cold beer in the other.
Louisville Slugger ftw!
My first car was stolen while I was sitting in English, and I have had about 4 stereos ripped over the years, it really sucks. One asshole used a crowbar to remove the radio, left the crowbar as evidence. really fucked the dash. I can't believe the radio was even usable after that.
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i'll keep that in mind...kinda short on cash as I just bought books for college, and i still neeed to buy more books but thanks for the heads up.
John Smith is depressed. A few years ago the love of his life, Jane Smith, gets mugged by a couple hoodlums. They use a baseball bat and in one unintentionally well placed blow they turn this once vibrantly beautiful young lady into a self defecating, paraplegic paper weight.
John is devastated. He realizes if he stays with her he gives up his life and dreams forever. On the other hand, he can't leave her because the guilt would slowly eat him away and his life would slowly become derelict like a wood framed home infested with termites. So he does the only thing that's right. He decides to give up his life and care the woman he once loved.
Fast forward to the present. John can't work because lion's share of his time is consumed with the selfless task of taking care Jane. As you can imagine, John's head is a raging torrent torn between resentment for this situation, the love he once shared with Jane and the guilt of starring at the beckoning door and the life that could have been.
Last night John is in the kitchen making Jane a cheeseburger smoothie when he notices the pile of bills sitting counter. As he files through them he starts to feel like Atlas with an unimaginable weight building on his shoulders.
On his way to the bedroom an all too familiar aroma fills his nose. Jane has shit herself again. John is not pleased.
After cleaning Jane and putting her back in bed John realizes the Everest sized mountain of laundry with Jane's shit stained night gown on top. He sees this as an excuse to leave the house for a minute and clear his head. On his way out, he empties an ashtray filled with change into his pocket.
About an hour has gone by at the laundry-mat and John has spent his time clearing his head by trying catch a glimpse of a beautiful young lady's bosom as she leans down to retrieve her clean clothes. Buzzz! The dryer has stopped. But as John goes to reclaim his clothes he notices that they're still wet. This always happens and it makes John's skin crawl.
He reaches to get another quarter but his pockets are empty. This is the last straw.
In a fit of focused anger John storms off down the street. Looking up and cursing the heavens he trips over a brick so carelessly placed in the middle of the sidewalk. Without thinking, he picks it up and throws it as far as he can. He awaits the sound. Oh no, it's hit a car. John rushes forward to find an E30 BMW with a smashed window. He looks around but the streets are empty. He seizes the opportunity to turn this accident into triumph. He rips out the radio. As he goes to leave he remembers the laundry...
If you've read this far you can fill in the rest. Sorry, I just got some short story diarrhea.
wow this sounds a lot like my life from 04-07... just substitute car accident for baseball bat and unchecked bipolar disorder for shit-stained laundry =p
John Smith is depressed. A few years ago the love of his life, Jane Smith, gets mugged by a couple hoodlums. They use a baseball bat and in one unintentionally well placed blow they turn this once vibrantly beautiful young lady into a self defecating, paraplegic paper weight.
John is devastated. He realizes if he stays with her he gives up his life and dreams forever. On the other hand, he can't leave her because the guilt would slowly eat him away and his life would slowly become derelict like a wood framed home infested with termites. So he does the only thing that's right. He decides to give up his life and care the woman he once loved.
Fast forward to the present. John can't work because lion's share of his time is consumed with the selfless task of taking care Jane. As you can imagine, John's head is a raging torrent torn between resentment for this situation, the love he once shared with Jane and the guilt of starring at the beckoning door and the life that could have been.
Last night John is in the kitchen making Jane a cheeseburger smoothie when he notices the pile of bills sitting counter. As he files through them he starts to feel like Atlas with an unimaginable weight building on his shoulders.
On his way to the bedroom an all too familiar aroma fills his nose. Jane has shit herself again. John is not pleased.
After cleaning Jane and putting her back in bed John realizes the Everest sized mountain of laundry with Jane's shit stained night gown on top. He sees this as an excuse to leave the house for a minute and clear his head. On his way out, he empties an ashtray filled with change into his pocket.
About an hour has gone by at the laundry-mat and John has spent his time clearing his head by trying catch a glimpse of a beautiful young lady's bosom as she leans down to retrieve her clean clothes. Buzzz! The dryer has stopped. But as John goes to reclaim his clothes he notices that they're still wet. This always happens and it makes John's skin crawl.
He reaches to get another quarter but his pockets are empty. This is the last straw.
In a fit of focused anger John storms off down the street. Looking up and cursing the heavens he trips over a brick so carelessly placed in the middle of the sidewalk. Without thinking, he picks it up and throws it as far as he can. He awaits the sound. Oh no, it's hit a car. John rushes forward to find an E30 BMW with a smashed window. He looks around but the streets are empty. He seizes the opportunity to turn this accident into triumph. He rips out the radio. As he goes to leave he remembers the laundry...
If you've read this far you can fill in the rest. Sorry, I just got some short story diarrhea.
Originally posted by ROLLingKING
i have a bronzit and plan on making it look sweet.
Originally posted by slammin.e28
Moral of this story?
If you drive your e30 on stairs, you're gonna have a bad time.
You do realize that you if you're going to harm someone robbing you, you have to kill them.
You will get sued and you will lose if you assault someone, regardless if you catch them in the act of rape.
I vote for MintScorpion to be the honorary R3V storyteller! I was on the edge of my seat and was really taken with a moment of how many blessings that I have to count in comparison to the main protagonist in the well woven short story! Well done Minty Scope (gargle, gargle):drink:
uh, ehem, Minty Scorp!
My first car was stolen while I was sitting in English, and I have had about 4 stereos ripped over the years, it really sucks. One asshole used a crowbar to remove the radio, left the crowbar as evidence. really fucked the dash. I can't believe the radio was even usable after that.
Like this.The fucked up part on top of that is they stole my alarm and kicked my door.
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Like this.The fucked up part on top of that is they stole my alarm and kicked my door.
Yup, looks like the same asshole's work. The crowbar bandit in my town got into cars by crowbarring the window frames, which invariably broke the window and fucked the door. He did at least half a dozen cars besides mine before he was caught. I couldn't understand why he didn't just throw the bar through the window to start with. He pretty well totalled cars stealing a friggin' stereo.
Had that happen to my accord. Completely destroyed my window regulator. Cost me $150 for a new regulator. They do that to avoid the sound of shattered glass. Guess they are to dumb to hold a towel to the window. The dumb ass who stole my radio on the e30 destroyed my lock before they broke the glass.
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