saint-louise's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Have you seen this stereo? Amazing, quite simply. Amazing. My car is now ear-shatteringly, thunderously quiet. Also, I have a gaping hole in my dash console, just under the heat and A/C controls. Every once in a while, I think I hear the faint sounds of the ghost of my stereo, crying out in protest against its most vile kidnapping. Where did I have my car broken into? you ask. How could this happen? you prod for details. Okay. Pretend you want details. Thanks. Did I leave my car left unattended down at the club, in a darkened parking lot, disturbingly bereft of security guards? Did I leave it by the side of the road next to a group of disgruntled youth with the windows down and the doors unlocked? Oh, dear me, no. I did something endlessly stupid. So hopelessly devoid of all sane thought and common sense that I have been chastising myself and weeping disconsolately ever since at the shame of my actions. I arrived at work. In broad daylight. I parked my car in a security-patrolled parking structure, in a parking space that is in plain sight of my building. In fact, in plain sight of the door to the security office of the building. I locked my doors. I rolled up my windows. And I went into the building to work for eight hours. As I do. O, Gentle Readers. Tell me, tell me: Wasn't that just the most careless and foolish thing you could possibly conceive someone would do? Wasn't I just asking to have my car stereo ripped viciously from its peaceful resting place, leaving behind only a bright, intestinal tangle of wires for my viewing enjoyment? Not for my hearing enjoyment. No, no. Apparently, I don't need that. The yawning hole where my stereo used to be has sealed that deal. And the kicker? I had three CDs sitting directly under the stereo, in a little compartment. The fuckers who took my stereo pointedly removed them, placed them on the seat, and left them behind. Radiohead, The White Stripes, The Cramps, and I would like to thank them for their incredibly poor musical taste. Even if I now have nothing to listen to the CDs with. 1:31 p.m. - 2003-06-04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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