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Sunday
Mar202005

Conspiracy.

There’s no doubt about it: conspiracy’s afoot.

It had long been my intention to discuss in my building’s monthly association meetings the outrageous behaviour of a few unknown residents concerning the communal shopping carts in the garages. As is the case with many apartment complexes, the sub-levels in my building are home to a small number of shopping carts— stolen, presumably, from various area supermarkets by a previous generation of residents whose bravery I cannot even begin to describe. It was certainly the hope of these heroes of old that the carts would be shared by future occupants in the spirit of courtesy and peace; to create in our own little piece of decaying and decadent Hollywood wretchedness something that Norman Rockwell would be proud of and perhaps wish to paint.

I shed tears of shame this day.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The betrayal of the most fundamental ideals of our foreresidents did not begin today, but several months in the past, when I was forced to scour the property for a cart after failing to find one in the garage elevator room, which had until then been the unspoken but plainly designated shopping cart storage bay. It was during this cart-hunt that I happened to glance over at one of the particularly expensive vehicles in the northwest corner of the garage.

Situated between the yellow luxury coupe’s front bumper and the garage wall was one of the COMMUNAL shopping carts. The owner of the hideous car had tried to HIDE THE CART behind his vehicle so he would always have one when he came home from the shopping!

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? WHO DOES THAT?

All of this man’s female ancestors must have mated with decidedly inferior breeds of bulls in order to produce so genuinely worthless a specimen of humanity as he. But he wasn’t the only one. I discovered additional acts of EVIL in the weeks to come, and even now, months later, I am still unable to comprehend the unspeakable volumes of greed one must possess to embark upon such a despicable undertaking… god, some people are just so POOR EVIL… it makes me want to puke. It was all I could do not to write a livejournal entry about it.

But all that changed today. Today those fuckers have gone too far. As I was docking my automobile just now after a quick trip to Ralph’s® to pick up some shaved roast beef as well as some apparently magic crystals that keep my home free of the stench of cat waste, I saw what is easily the worst thing I’ve ever seen: shopping carts up against the wall of MY parking space.

Not one, but TWO. And in their customary interlocked configuration!

I’ve been framed, confirming once and for all that my home is, like, SO bugged. The perpetrators of these decidedly unneighborly shopping cart shenanigans are quite clearly in league with the building association’s board of directors — all of whom were elected — if not actually the board themselves. I’ve absolutely no public recourse now; all official channels are obviously closed to me. If I brought up the shopping cart situation in one of the meetings, I’d probably end up locked in the sauna and left to suffocate. No, my only choice — nay, there is no “choice.” There is but one path left for me, and it is the path to war.

I must become… a bat nusiance.

If my parents were dead, I would at this very moment wait a few weeks for it to rain again and go to their cemetery and swear on their graves that I will not let this aggression stand, man. I will dedicate my life or at least the next day or so to ridding my formerly safe building of all shopping-cart related CRIME. God, I hate CRIME! The next time I see that some bloated sack bastard has tried to conceal a shopping cart in their parking space, I am TOTALLY GOING TO MOVE IT BACK TO THE ELEVATOR, I MEAN IT. I’m going to do it again and again and again and again and again and again until they’re forced to give up their odious ways or just figure out they can keep the carts in their kitchens until they need them again like I do sometimes.

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