On the 10 th day of Christmas ......

some fuckwad stole from me.....a 1991 Chevy Silverado.
Yep....it happened. Right out from our driveway hubby's truck was stolen. Hubby called me around 11 am on the 23rd and said, "Was my truck out in front when you left for work this morning?" "What?" He then calmly said, "My fucking truck was stolen". Sad part is that I didn't even realize it. Late for work, purse and presents piled high, windows fogged up with water and moisture, I didn't even realize it. Some arguing later, a police report even later than that and I was headed off to drink my sorrow away at the bar after work. What else could I do?
The truck is now I'm sure in some chop shop being taken for its parts and the shell I'm sure will be found in some fucking vineyard on fire. Great. Swell. Fantastic.

My dreams: I hope the fuckers who took it, ran out of gas shortly after taken it cause hubby never fills up the gas tank. I hope they found out that the truck doesn't go in reverse too well sometimes and just dropped it off somewhere. Even better, I hope the fuckers took it over the grapevine and got stranded in the fucking cold and had to walk miles in the freezing temp over there. That would be nice.