Not The Post I Had Planned

I’m going to have to ask your forgiveness tonight, because I am going to be ranting a bit tonight. Before it’s over I will probably wish grievous bodily harm on a few people. I may cuss. I may even call some people republicans (the worst insult I can think of in my own personal lexicon). I will probably due all these things, but I want ya’ll to know that doing so was not my plan for tonight’s post.

My plan had been to come home from work this evening and write about this absolutely brilliant idea I had for a coronation event at a new site  I had checked out a couple of weeks ago. I’ll probably write about that next week after I calm down a bit, but until then, you are going to have to trust me, it was a brilliant idea. Just needed a set of dying royals that like this song.

So, what changed my plan? Let me tell you. Sometime after I left the house this morning at 10:30am. and before my roommate/landlord Turlaugh (Gerald) came home at 6:30PM someone backed into the driveway and beat the tongue lock on Gerad’s SCA trailer off with a hammer and STOLE THE DAMN TRAILER.

Let me repeat that in case you missed it; THEY STOLE THE DAMN TRAILER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pardon me,but I just have to say….ARRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Stored inside of the trailer, were: three Panther pavilions, (Turlaugh’s, Gresch’s, and Lucas), a  16×20 garage style pavilion, 4 wooden camp beds, two large kerosene heaters, a wooden “throne” style chair, a huge gas grill and four propane bottles, nine coolers, and all of the other camp equipment. All of the bedding, sleeping bags, and other equipment that right now I am to fracking angry to remember.

Oh, and as they were leaving (well, I assume it was while they were leaving), they also loaded up his riding lawnmower, a brand new push mower, and his weed-eater. They had to break into the storage shed out back to get the damn mower and weed-eater.

Now, I know this cesspit of a city has a high crime rate, but the police were less than helpful. I know they are over worked, and I have to admit they do a job I wouldn’t do on a bet, but for the love of all gods, how can somebody steal a trailer in broad day light and none of the frackin’ neighbors not notice it? My neighbor, the retired guy across the streat notices EVERYTHING that happens on this street, but he told the cops he didn’t see anything. Yeah, right.

Yes, the trailer is/was insured, but the insurance company told Turlaugh that in order to be compensated for the items in the trailer he would have to provide receipts or pictures of everything. Like that is going to happen. And yes, it could have been much worse: They could have gotten into the house, they could have stolen everything in the house, etc., etc.

I’m angry. It’s making my roommate physically ill. Not only is he justifiably upset, but he feels a responsibility for the property that the others in the household had stored in his trailer. Of course they have told him they don’t blame him, but he blames himself.

I just blame the poxed, leprous scum that stole the trailer. I blame the syphilitic, crack junkies that would rather steal than work. I blame them, and no one else.

I know that they can probably sell the more mundane items.  The mower, the grill, the propane bottles, etc., I’m sure that those will all be sold quickly. Hell, they will probably be able to sell the trailer itself without much trouble. I can’t imagine they will be able to sell the pavilions, the camp beds, and the specific SCA gear very easily. I sincerely hope that we will be able to recover it, but I won’t be holding my breath.

It is my sincere hope that those baboon brained fart breathers that stole the trailer and other items come down with boils. Red, itching boils that break out first on their genitals and spread, as they swell and rupture, to all other areas of their bodies. I hope the radios in their vehicles and homes all malfunction and will only play Michael Bolton music. I hope their bowels loosen  and that their sinuses get plugged up for the rest of their lives. I hope they are afflicted with a case of body odor that would make the scent of decaying meat seem like sweet perfume. I hope their home cable networks get stuck on the All NIXON ALL THE TIME network. I hope their wives leave them and that they all get audited by the IRS every year for the rest of their pathetic, miserable lives.

In other words, I hope they suffer.


Vexa minus
Labora plurius

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