The chronicle of a dark and dangerous journey through a world gone mad.

Monday, September 2, 2013

Our Farmhouse Was Burglarized!!!

Sometime between Wednesday and Saturday morning this week our farmhouse was burglarized.  Aside from making a mess, they only took three items, two of them of great sentimental value.  If the thief reads this be advised, the local Sheriff is looking for those weapons and I am looking for those weapons.  One was a gift from my long dead father.  I will look for that weapon until I find it or die and be advised, I have a lot of assets at my disposal to help me find it.

People like to tell themselves that crimes are committed randomly by strangers.  If you ask a cop, he will tell that you that is a self deluding crock of shit that lets everybody sit around the table at Thanksgiving and Christmas and smile and pretend that the people sitting across from them are not the cause of their heartbreak. When cops investigate a theft, the first people they look at are family members, friends and neighbors.  In the case of petty theft and burglary, they especially look for family members, friends and neighbors with a drug problem, or money problems or both.

I know that many of my family members and friends from around the neighborhood at the farm read this blog and my Facebook posts.  I will post this several times until I am sure the word has gotten around.  This is not a threat or even a warning. It is a fact.  If you ever have the misfortune to illegally enter a residence that I am occupying by either stealth or force, I will be in reasonable fear of my life or great bodily harm.  At that point, Oklahoma law allows me to kill you where you stand.

I don't care if you are Aunt Jenny's favorite nephew, my cousin fifteen times removed or the bastard son of poor little Suzie Jane.  I don't care if you came from a broken home and didn't get brand name sneakers while you were in Junior High.  When you illegally enter my residence you are nothing but a threat and a target. In the split second before my bullets rip into your chest, you can curse your parents for refusing to discipline you and allowing you to grow into a worthless piece of dung.  Or you can curse your grandparents for bailing you out time and again when facing some consequences might have saved you.  Or you can just scream and die.  It won't make a lot of difference because you will have finally stepped across a line where there are consequences that you can't get out of.

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