Tuesday, or Christmas Eve as it is better known, I had to get up to go to work at 6am. It was all right since I got paid. Woo hoo! After work, I went to Amoeba and bought bunches of CDs. Yay goodness! I get home at around 6pm and park on the street by my apartment. My cousins were over so I chatted with them and so on.
Christmas day, I get ready to go to my Uncle’s house. I walk down the street and find that the passenger side window of my car was busted. Glass fragments were everywhere — on the sidewalk, all over the interior of my car–, they went through my glove compartment, tried to kick in my windshield and etch their “tag” on my rear windshield. Happy Xmas to me.
After I got over the shock of what I discovered (and reported it to the po-po), I realized that they didn’t take any of my tapes or my copy of Madame Bovary that was lying in the back seat. They didn’t deem it worth stealing!! How fucking offensive. Now if they had swiped my JSBX Orange tape, I would’ve understood a little. But this?!
So whoever broke into my car and deemed my shit not worth stealing: I hope you get 10 forms of cancer and your children are mutants with no limbs and suction cups all over their extremities. How dare you fucking insult my taste in such a chicken-shit way. If you hate my taste in music and books, then fucking tell me to my face. Leave a nice manifesto on my windshield or something. But don’t fucking break my window in. Fuckheads.
Anyhow, I just got it fixed. Now I’m tired and I need to eat. And one more thing. Just because someone’s god had to suffer doesn’t mean I have to. That’s it. Amen.