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'My Corduroyed Life' - Mark A's Journal
Yeah, it's shit.
I cordially invite the world to reply to this post with as insulting a thing as you can come up with for the fucker who stole my car.
Yup, that's right, the world of 'it'll never happen to me' finally happened to me. Sometime between 1.30am and lunchtime on Saturday, some cunt stole my car. The car that is nearly 20 years old and worth about £450, if that. All that was left of her was the horn ripped off the steering wheel and the bracket ripped off the ignition - thrown callously into the gutter before they sped off in my baby.
How do these people live with themselves? If you see a car like mine, it is obvious that that is all that the owner can afford. Right now, I just can't afford another car. So how can these people just take someone's car?! The road I live in has huge Victorian Houses: the people who live there can either afford a whole 8 bedroom Victorian House, or a converted bedsit. Why couldn't they take one of the sickeningly rich people's cars? The people who could replace the car easily because it's a drop in the ocean from their huge bank balance.
Does that make me a bad person: wishing my misery onto another person just because they're richer than me?
This theft has significantly upset me. Beyond the fact that I tend to get attached to my lovable elderly cars (and give them old lady names), it's going to significantly impact badly on my life. Specifically, it's going to mean I don't get to see Rob as much, which is what's really bothering me. I used to pick him up from work a lot for the simple reason it takes half an hour from his work to my place by car, compared to around 2 hours on public transport. This means that some evening that we spend together we can no longer do due to the time restraints of public transport (both the time it takes to get to each other and the last bus times). To say I'm upset at this is an understatement. He's my man and I love him, and I feel like they've stolen a part of my life as well as 450 quid worth of motor vehicle.
The other wounder is that if the car is found, the delightfully cold Police Officer told me, I will have to pay to have it picked up. The victim of a crime has to pay because they were the victim of the crime. I'm looking for the justice in that, but I'm not seeing it.
So once again, I heartily encourage you to reply with obscene, insulting, downright hateful rants for the cunt crim who stole my Edna. Hit the 'make notes' below.
M x
Current mood:
angry.