When I moved out of the house and into my swank 720 square foot one-bedroom bachelor pad with my daughter's hamster and pink bathroom and a nextdoor neighbor with an unintelligable last name (what is that..Portuguese? Spanish? How do you string 8 consonants together?) who would bang on my wall at 8:00 pm because I was making too much noise vacumming and I'M SO SORRY that I like my shitty apartment free of ANTS, you asshole...
...my first order of business after crying in the fetal position for hours and hours was to get a newspaper subscription.
It's all about priorities.
But I noticed every other morning that when I opened my door after triple checking that there weren't gang members out there fo-shizzle that my..
And I would wait and wait and wait for it but it would never show and eventually my phone would ring and my boss would be, "Are you gracing us with your presence today, Rodney? It's NOON," and then I'd have to explain to him "I have a newspaper CRISIS going on, Mike, so I'm going to have to work from home today," and he's like, "..but your laptop is in the office here..how are you working from home..?" and I'm all, "I don't have time for this idle chitchat, Mike, with a newspaper thief on the loose."
Eventually the phone goes dead.
I think they have to keep me on because firing me would be against Equal Opportunity laws or some shit.
Takin' it to the man.
So now I'm thinking of ways to catch this thief because there's NO WAY I'm spending $32 for 13 weeks of every-other day newspaper. There's a TIMELINE to Beetle Bailey, people..eventually I won't be able to catch up to the plot.
How to catch this thief?
All of these are obviously brilliant ideas with the exception that I know very little about building things let alone a pulley system that will actually function or, honestly, where people buy pulleys in the first place.
Also, I'm pretty sure the 'Claymore Mine' one would most likely scratch my apartment door and God knows that I'll need my security deposit back at some point.
That's when..one day...I noticed..
I forgot that I have a second door to the apartment for some reason.
The newspapers had probably just been sitting there at the OTHER door the whole time.
But because physically turning my head to look down the hall is just way too exhausting at 5:30 in the morning, I would apparently rather bitch about it and dream up a complex machine involving pulleys and anvils and rifles and explosive devices and shit that would kill random people walking down the hallway.
Which you could then read about in the newspaper.
Assuming it's not stolen.