Pet Peeve

Dear Readers,

There are some things in life that just piss a person off. This past weekend, I was a victim of burglary in Rochester. I was out at a fine establishment that happened to allow 18+ to enter and had myself a good time. I came back to the person's house I was staying at and continued to have a good time until 0345, when I was woken up by a frantic call from my Mom. "David, where are you?" I said, "Um...Rochester, Why?" The next phrase she riddled off in her tears, sent shivers down my spine. "Where is your car? Your father got a call saying it was in an accident." Needless to say, I was awake at that point and went outside to find about 5 Rochacha Police cars and just as many cops around my beautiful 1998 Buick Park Avenue (Ironically, until now I didn't make the pun that I was parked on a street next to "Park Avenue"). I find out that two African American male's decided my car looked good enough to break into. Now I will inturrupt this story to tell you why my father thought it was in an accident. "Hey Paul, a car registered to Deanna was involved in an INcident in Monroe county." Do you see how those two words can be confused with one another, baby birds? Anyway, The police officers were nice enough, mostly because my father is a officer of the law I'm sure, and had me pick out my belongings so I could have them back. Here is the list of things they attempted to steal:
1) iPod charger
2) Laundry Detergent
3) Army Hoodie
4) Tire shine
5) Package of Eclipse Gum....really?!
6) Cell phone charger
7) 2 of my Army Pay stubs.

So, I was up until around 0400 signing paperwork and such, when all of sudden one of the "suspects" told an officer that the detergent was his. Now, readers, I had the opportunity to claim an iPhone, but I didn't...WHY WOULD I CLAIM DETERGENT?! This just shows how idiotic the youth of Rochester is.

I must tell you that although breaking and entering is a nuisance and I would like for it never to happen again, I don't consider it a pet peeve. Let me share with you a pet peeve of mine that most of my closest friends do not even know: I cannot stand it when a person bites their silverware. It literally sends shivers down my freakishly long spine. Just imagine for a second a little diaper wearing brat who is sitting at a table that I'm waiting on. Now imagine this little shit scraping his fork repeatedly in his chubby Gerber™ hole. If the ear shattering sound happens just once, I can put up with, it is when I'm having a bad day and I hear it Bite, after BIte, after BITe, after BITE that it drives me over the edge.

Now for the moral of my story: Don't bite your silverware, and surely don't do it while breaking into my car or I might have to forgo calling the police and just beat you with the nearest object that will cause enough blunt forced trauma to put you asleep for a long, long time.

Goodnight, Readers.