Fuck! I got my little camera stolen yesterday. I was wandering around 6th and Market, up to 8th after work, with it in my bag, with only a piece of velcro protecting it. I had been warned. The security team at work took the time to tell us that there are professional thieves wandering up and down Market in that area of SF. That's all they do: look for bags that they can sneak their hands in.
I'm going to beat the hell out of a random crack-head, for vengeance, maybe a few of 'em. How illegal is it to run them over with your car?
I'm gutted. I feel like a hillbilly that wandered into town. It's not even like I got all of my money taken at the game where you have to guess which cup the fuzzy red or yellow ball is under. That, at least, might have provided some entertainment. All I'll get out of this is the shame of my naivety.
I loved that little camera. I took it everywhere with us.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...!!!!
I want to smack a thief in the face with a shovel.
I want that very badly, to smack a thief in the face, with a shovel.
.
