Stolen!

Hey you, with the brown bag!

Yes, you, I hope you trip on your shoelaces, lose your balance and involuntarily hit the beer of that 150-kilo biker who will retribute by making you his bitch for the next month. I then hope the cops bust him for drugs and throw you in the slammer for all those child porn pics they found under the mattress, and you know what happens to child molesters in jail, don’t you?

None of that would have happened if yesterday you hadn’t broken into the trunk of my car to steal my bag with my Macbook Air, iPad and passport, plus countless other small items carefully selected in years of travel.

And BTW, if you’re wondering what’s this sudden searing pain in your back, it may have sonething to do with the spikes I’m jabbing into this doll here while I wait another two hours for my system to restore from Time Machine (thanks God!) on the hurriedly purchased replacement MBA because, you know, we’re in the middle of an office move, and in four days it’s Christmas and I need to deliver a pitch on january 13th.

And don’t worry, you will eventually come out of jail, and I have a few other best wishes ready for you…

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