Thieving little bastards   2 comments

If you’re caught being a thieving bastard you have no grounds on which to complain about being called one.

Except, perhaps, grammatical.

You know sometimes you get flashes of insight into how events are going to unfold, almost like you can see the future?

A white pickup truck pulls up outside my house. You can probably guess the rest, but anyway. I hear banging on my neighbour’s door, a guy asking about scrap and being told to go away. I’ve not got dressed yet, so pull on my dressing gown. There’s banging on my door, which I ignore. I go downstairs just in time to see someone walking past my side door.

I go outside, and see the thieving little bastard is trying to make off with my side gate, that’s not currently attached to my wall (one of the many oddities left from the previous owners that I’ve not yet fixed). So I shout at him, call him a thieving little bastard, and demand he returns the gate. Which he does, while laughing and objecting to being called a thieving little bastard. His friend did a remarkable parrot impression, as is the usual recourse of the witless.

Sadly I didn’t think to get their registration number, although reporting it probably would have wound up being a pointless excercise in frustration as is usually the case when dealing with the police.

But if you’re in or around Northamptonshire and see a couple of guys in a white pick-up looking for scrap? Thieving little bastards.

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Posted 1 June 2011 by Colthor in Diary

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2 responses to “Thieving little bastards

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  1. Pingback: I could have done so many things « Talking to yourself

  2. Lol, love this title of your post. To bad they did not get to learn a lesson. I am sure they will do it again to someone else. But good thing is that you caught then in enough time to keep your gate (well for them to put the gate back).

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