Karma, Fate & Masturbating Neighbours
What is stealing? How would you determine it? I used to live my life a law abiding citizen until my love of ladies denim and Primark prices became the obsession it is now. But at what point does right become wrong? I’m not a bad person. I try to do good on a daily basis, but apparently this isn’t enough. As his name is Earle once said, karma isn’t a force to be reckoned with. And it’s karma which seems the only plausible explanation for the drama which enfolded after my latest trip to council-house-chic heaven, Primark. And before I continue, please don’t confuse my love of Primark ladieswear as some kind of perverted transsexual on a budget thing; I can assure you my intentions are genuine. Thankfully now by 2011 skinny jeans are a morally accepted item amongst all men which can now be worn without the fear of having “GAAAAAY” shouted at you, but even this doesn’t stop me heading to the ladies floor and forcing myself into a pair designed specifically for the opposite sex each and every time. Obviously with Primark not being known for its longevity of products, after a few wears any sign of the skinniness which initially drew me to this alternative cross dressing style is lost and my perfectly toned thighs and buttocks are concealed deep beneath what’s now essentially the dreaded boot cut. And after trying to explain to countless of the non-English speaking workers Primark presumably imports over how the £4 jeans I bought from them and have worn repeatedly should be immediately exchanged because my legs are just too pretty to hide away, they obviously didn’t understand. Which led to the realization which initiated this entire nightmare… rather than moaning at the staff, why not simply take advantage of their stupidity and go into the changing rooms wearing you’re old jeans and swap them for some new jeans, and hand them the old pair back! The success of this plan is executed each week, and although it may seem wrong; technically it isn’t stealing as I already purchased the jeans. I’m just upgrading them if you’d like. However after today’s changing room swap and my usual quick getaway, I was somewhat halted as I found the lock on my bike had broken and I was physically stuck there mere inches from the Primark doors unable to cycle away into my new-jeans-bliss!!
The impending thought of now being trapped in town forever then proved too much as I phoned up the fire brigade pleading for assistance. They were somewhat rude as apparently this wasn’t an emergency; but that didn’t stop my harassment of the emergency services. I don’t think I really need to remind you all of my hatred of the police do I? Those who follow online may remember posts from the injustice experienced following my GATE THEFT to the time I reported my neighbour for masturbating with the curtains open; and rather than proceed with this allegation they simply dismissed it and questioned me about the wheelie bin theft I accidentally confessed too! And for those who’ve bought my book, you’ll soon be presented with insightful tales about my time arrested as a suspected terrorist, time detained for defacing the memory of the queen mother and far more sexy crimes; but today I thought things could change. Upon spotting a few passing officers and dragging them over to the scene, they each tried and failed to open the lock with my key. Not only that, they each then refused to bring a patrol car round to give me a lift home in!! Unsure exactly how to proceed then whilst aimlessly loitering around the bike, I started offering members of the passing public a whopping £10 if they could get the lock off. We had bank clerks, office workers, street cleaners – each sharing fascinating stories about their previous experiences picking locks and each one failing miserably at this one. If there’s anything that’ll bring the people of Manchester together, it’s easy cash. Clearly misunderstanding this as some kind of unconventional conversation starter, one chap even started telling me about the summer he spent working at his father’s garage! Unsure how to then process this truly irrelevant piece of information I had absolutely no interest in which, any last shred of hope I had of ever making it home had disappeared. And It was only then as I headed to a nearby store to buy a saw to either cut the bike free or cut myself to death due to utter embarrassment I was now experiencing that my good friend Oliver happened to walk past and break the lock apart with just his hands!!!!!!!! An act of fate triumphing over an act of karma.
I’m not entirely sure there’s any relevance what so ever to this blog, except that I now have a strong dislike for the fire brigade as well as the police officers of Manchester ….and if you’ve got this far then congratulations, you’re evening is as boring as mine.
PS: did you know I had a book out? http://somecallitstalking.bigcartel.com/
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