The context of part of this blog-entry is in these Myspace blogs of mine from 2006 and 2007. You don't have to read them, but I recommend it, because I'm a middle child. And I'm awesome.
Thievery....
I just got in touch, via Facebook, with an old crime-pal of mine. When we were younger we were big into breaking the law in all kinds of really macho, manly ways. Like lighting a small potpourri fire in a subdivision's model home.
But my favorite memory is when we went to the hardware store one town over. We decided to steal some blank keys. Why? Who the [ExpletivE] knows? What in the world did I need (free) blank keys for? Weirdo...
Anyway, my friend was a pro at the acting casual, as much as a 5th grade might be, and I was really terrible at it. I walked over to the display, looked all around about 6 million times, and eventually took the key and split. Or I would have split if the manager didn't stop us.
He accused us of stealing blank keys. That's silly, why would kids steal blank keys? Actually he just accused me, even though both of us took some. I don't remember what I said, but I remember him telling me he saw me pick up the key, and he saw me looking around a lot, and he didn't see me put the key down. I was freaked the [ExpletivE] out, and must have bumbled something ridiculous... I was sure I was going to jail.
Luckily he had me show him my pockets. They were empty. I don't think he was convinced, but he let us go. He didn't know that any good 5th grade thief drops his booty into his underwear. It's a good thing I don't steal anymore; dropping stuff into my tighty-whites was fine, but it'd fall right through my boxers.
While I don't steal these days, I did take up lock picking as a hobby a few years back, to quite triumphant effect, as detailed in the abovelinked blogs.
Anyway, karma didn't forget about my less innocent days in the general area of thievery (where you might either be a thief, or an a-theif-ic lock picker), and she (karma) chameleoned the [expletive] out of me once again.
My car got robbed a few weeks ago. In the middle of the day, in front of my apartment. The bright side is they didn't take much, and they left the car closed up and locked for me! They just rustled through my stuff. But they did take a couple things: my GPS, and, sadly, yes they stole my lock picks. Which might be ironic.
As a corollary, I always thought people told other people they were using 'ironic' wrong because the things they were describing were nothing like iron.
As a corollary to my corollary, and every good corollary needs a corollary, I sometimes wonder, when I plain-facedly make myself the butt of a joke, if people realize I’m kidding for comedy’s sake, or if they really think that, for example, I actually grossly misunderstood the word ironic. No matter. Corollary.
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