Monday, November 15, 2010

Dear Bicycle Thief...

Do you want my helmet and bike rack to go along with it? Here they are, sitting on the staircase next to the broken lock which you perverted with your shitty bolt-cutters. How about that? To buy a pair of bolt-cutters with the sole purpose of stealing bikes.

I am not a violent person, but with the range of emotion that comes with learning that your stuff has been filched, it’s easy to wonder how fast you can punch someone in the Adam’s apple before he can react. If you have any plans of riding my bike within five miles of my home over the next few weeks, be sure to ride with one eyeball glancing over your shoulder, bitch. You penniless, gutless loser. You swine.

…After the knee-jerk response to being personally violated by theft resides, it becomes easier to rationalize that the thief must have needed (whatever was stolen) more than its actual owner. Except that I purchased that bike with my own money, that I earned legitimately. You didn’t. I bought it from a local shop owner who later was killed crossing the street because he had gout and couldn’t walk fast enough. One time, on a drunken ride home in the dark, I hit a curb and went head-over-handlebars with a face-plant on the sidewalk. No concussion. I envision you not being so lucky. And get a load of this: I farted on that bicycle seat more times than I can count.

Now that you know some history of my bike that you stole, how will your head feel after my rusty axle bearing fails? Will you find yourself speeding down the dip on Parker when the wheel blows because I over-inflated the tires and your fat ass caused a puncture? When you land on the street, will your head crack open like a cantaloupe? In a state of shock, will you scoop up your grey matter—which looks like fresh ground beef when it’s newly spilled—and try to put it back in?  

You are an embarrassment to humanity. A waste of space, an asshole casserole with the soulless objective of stealing peoples’ shit because you couldn’t earn the scratch to buy your own shit. Thereby, I cannot let it rest: I tried, but you’re just too goddamn irredeemable.

Justice, for me, is a very complicated matter. But certain things are black and white. I would have given you $20 dollars if you’d just sold me on why you can’t afford a bus pass because you’re jobless, living off your whore of a girlfriend and hating it. But now I can only ask if you’re ready for the axe to fall, whence your hands will be cut off.

Fuck you.

Monday, November 1, 2010

The 5th Annual Halloween Extravaganza

The 5th Annual Halloween Extravaganza was a huge success. With nearly 50 costumed partygoers in attendance, it was a raving night of grand tomfoolery and madness. A nearly full moon hung in clear autumn skies while Jefferson TARC Bus rocked balls in our back yard past 4am. In spite of an actual werewolf in attendance, no one was murdered or eaten.

One highlight occurred amidst a knee-deep strata of beer cans and plastic Jaeger Bomb husks on the lawn, when the Fruit of the Loom Grapes guy fell off the porch and popped most of his purple balloons. In consolation, he was awarded Best Costume. The guy dressed as a Discarded and Rotting Turkey Sandwich ate a whole bottle of prenatal vitamins just to see what would happen. And then the Dish ran away with the Spoon.

The height of buffoonery occurred when, for reasons that remain unexplained, we fired a 19th century elephant gun into the alleyway and blasted out the windows of our landlord’s garage. The chaotic orchestration of these misdeeds incidentally summoned two demons, but both were banished back to their fiery abyss by being defeated in games of sudden-death pencil break.

When the cops arrived, even Officer Pettigrew came in for some of Liz's fabulous spiked cider and chili (little did he know it was vegetarian chili, and little did Liz know that Chris replaced the ground soy tidbits with chunks of Germantown hobos who he'd chopped up on All Hallows Eve, delivering them of their destitution and misery).

A memorable bash was had by all. Thanks for joining us and we’ll see you next year.