Saturday, March 14, 2009

I've Been Robbed

I’m sorry I did not write yesterday. It’s an interesting story.

So I’m house sitting for some rich bastard in Hollywood, getting paid to feed his fat cat, water his fat plants, and keep all the fat Mormons away. I can drink all the liquor I want and grill all the prime porterhouses in his walk-in fridge. It’s a pretty sweet deal.

Yesterday I woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. I thought it strange as the house was supposed to be empty. I wrapped a towel around my waist and sauntered into the kitchen where I startled a man wearing a beanie and an eye mask.

“Ay! What the fock is this?” I wasn’t sure of his accent.

“I live here,” I told him.

“Wasn’t nobody s’posed to be here. I’m robbin’ the joint!”


“It gives the illusion of inhabitance. Care for some rashers?”

“What the fu—you mean bacon? Get the fuck out of my house you limey piece of shit! I’m just kidding, I’m not racist. But seriously get the fuck out.” I ran back into the master bedroom and pulled a pistol from below my pillow and ran back out to the kitchen and he was gone. He’d left the bacon but took the microwave.

I grabbed my flip flops and ran out to the driveway keeping the towel around my waist. His engine wasn’t starting and I deflated his tires with a few shots. He managed to start the van and scraped out of the driveway. I found a motorcycle with the keys in it and pulled up against him. I shot into the engine, reloaded the revolver and shot six more. The van started smoking and he turned into me, pinning me into a tree.

It was kind of awkward yelling obscenities at him between a smoking van and a tree, half-naked as he ran off.

So I was pried out a couple hours later by some passersby and walked back home. So what if I left a smoldering wreckage all up in a sidewalk? I showered, got dressed and went crook-hunting. I found him at a pawn shop three blocks away trying to trade the microwave for a guitar. He saw me and leaped through the store window. I picked up the shopkeep and flung him at the crook’s legs who toppled forward.

I retrieved the microwave and took a nap when I got home. So I guess if I hadn’t napped I would’ve written yesterday so what shut up.



  1. Wow, you're the best house sitter ever. If I ever need one, I'm calling you. And will certainly provide bacon.

  2. Imagine how a wookiee could have been useful in a situation like this...

  3. Can I get a drawing of a wookie close lining a crook with an arm extending across the front door?

  4. LISTED!
    Of course, we can also have the option of wookiee fist bonk to the top of robber's head a la giant to albino's head in Princess Bride...

  5. did you get guy's name? it's kind of rude to fling a pawnshop employee at someone without knowing the person's name first....just saying frank. mind your manners.

  6. thanks for saving my microwave! My house has been surrounded by a bunch of no-good hoodlums lately...