The Wet Bandits

I can’t believe no one said the things under the bed, or the things looking in through the window. On the rare occasion that I’m home alone I still jump several feet to get into bed. Yes I’m too old for this but it’s the truth.

me dying and my pets experiencing a slow and excruciating death by dehydration and starvation; meowing and barking the entire time for help while everyone ignores the nuisance until it finally stops for good.

i never setup automatic rent payments in the hopes that the eviction process will happen soon enough so at least it get someone’s attention before they pass so terribly.

Well, I was afraid that I could do nothing to quell a home invasion, which not only was my area having an uptick in but my best friend’s house (and the friend) fell victim to, pistol whipped him and everything we had to glue his scalp back together.

Then I bought a gun. I already knew how to use them because “Uncle,” so I didn’t have to learn how, which was a plus, just had to learn the laws and practice technique. Now I’m not so scared of home invasions, I can defend myself against them, and I’ve since moved out of the hood which was another huge bonus, but they still happen here too.

Luckily so far the only time I ever did have to use it I was in a walmart parking lot, not home, and the guy with a knife pointed at us turned and left when he saw me grab it, not a shot fired thank “Bob.”