Payback's a b*tch

I hate when people steal things. Two of the last three Saturdays, I've had to leave early, before my paper arrived. One of the Saturdays, I didn't get home till around 4, so it didn't really matter. But last Saturday, I got home around noon. No paper. WTF? I think I'm the only person in my building that gets a paper, but people, please. Buy your own effing paper! How much are they, like $0.50? If you can't afford your own paper, then maybe you should move to a more affordable neighborhood, no?

As I usually do, I opted not to get mad, but to get even. I swear to God, if my front porch were made of wood, I'd nail the paper to it, but then again, my paperboy must be sleeping in on Saturdays. Last Saturday, I left at 6:30, no paper. Dude. 6:30!!! So, I kept a paper from Thursday. And of course, I keep the little blue plastic bags they come in, because they make awesome poop bags! Tonight I doctored up that paper.



I lay it on the kitchen counter, opened and filled each section with flour. Not a ton, but enough to make a mess. I put the entire paper back together as it came to me, put it back in the plastic bag, and it's lying in the hall. I plan to leave in the morning, grab the *real* paper and switch it with the flour-filled paper. Muwahahaha! I hope that whomever is stealing it gets that sh*t all over themselves and all over their apartment. It will absolutely serve them right.

If you wonder where this comes from, it comes from my Grandmother, Ruth. My Dad's Mom. She was my rock. Greatest cook in the world, and a fabulous mother-figure for me. When she was working, she'd put her lunch in the company refrigerator. Someone kept stealing her sandwich. So, one day, she got even. She made a sandwich, with some Ex-Lax in it. Put it in the refrigerator just like all the other days. And sure enough, it was stolen. I remember how funny she thought that was, and you know, I get it. I really do. If you steal, then you deserve what you get!

Don't get mad, get EVEN!