The Darwin Exception

because it's not always survival of the fittest – sometimes the idiots get through

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The New, Improved Thief

Posted by thedarwinexception on December 20, 2006

Is it something about Malone? Does everyone lose brain cells as the enter the town limits? Is there something in the water that makes people lose any sense of morality, intelligence and good old fucking common sense the moment they drink it?

So, the brother is still here, still working, still “recovering”, still helping me around the house, being funny and making me laugh.

The girlfriend is still here too. She’s not so funny.

They moved in here on a Saturday, right? So on Sunday night  I hear Gary and the girl “talking loudly” about who is going to call some guy. The girl is protesting quite loudly that *she* is not calling “him”,  that Gary should, and that they really need to determine if he has read “the note”.

Now, I’m listening. (I mean – why not? It *is* still my house, and I’m  putting you all on notice that you have no presumption of privacy if you come to my house and start arguing about cryptic shit.) I’m thinking that they are talking about the landlord. You know, since they left the apartment in the middle of the night, obviously not taking all of their shit, but I’m wondering why they left him “a note” – and where they would have left it for him to find – I mean, does he normally just come around their place looking for “notes”?

Then the girl starts saying things like “You know this is hard for me – I mean, I can’t stand someone yelling at me, you know he’s going to be really pissed – it’s just better if you call.”

Now I’m not thinking “landlord” anymore – now I’m thinking “Fuck – what if they are running from some drug dealer or something?” I mean, I don’t know who this girl is. I never met her before she showed up on my doorstep, Gary has only been with her for like 6 months and the most I knew of her was when my sister called me and said “Gary is living with some girl”.

Gary tells her “look, this really isn’t my responsibility – I hate to be blunt, but this *is* your problem.”

Well, that’s good, I guess. It’s not Gary’s problem – it’s hers. But WTF is the problem? 

Then Gary tells her that she can “star 67” the call, and that she needs to make the call soon.

Now I’m dying wanting to know what the fuck they are talking about. Just dying. I’m nothing if I’m not nosy. 

So, when she tells Gary that “no,” she will not call, and he drops it and goes downstairs, I follow him.

I ask Gary “Who does she have to call so bad? And why?” When he looked at me like “Huh? You heard that?” I just kind of smiled at him and said “Thin walls.”

So, I found out the rest of the story, and it’s a humdinger.

Apparently, up until that Friday before they moved in, this stupid bitch had her three KIDS living with her. Their father took them for the weekend, and THAT’S when she and Gary decided to come to New York and stay with me. She left a note for the father in the diaper bag explaining that “TA-DA – Don’t bring the kids home, I won’t be there.”

Gary tried to talk her out of it – I guess it wasn’t even his idea to come here to stay – he wanted to come for the night, as he had originally planned to do when he called me – and that’s why they were so late in getting here Saturday night – she decided “hey – while we’re there, why don’t I just pick this time to start living my life – and we’ll throw all the shit we can carry into the car and never come back!” They spent 2 hours arguing over
whether they were going to come and stay for the night or for an indefinite period of time – with her finally winning.

So now I am shocked and appalled. Shocked and appalled. I just don’t know what to think. I truly don’t. I have 2.8 thousand things I want to just shout at this stupid fucking dolt, but I can’t even open my mouth I am so shocked and appalled. All I could stammer out to Gary was “Look, don’t leave me alone with this bitch, I’m likely to strangle the fuck out of her.” And all Gary said was “Not if I do it first.”

So I wasn’t that “pleased” with her, and I certainly questioned how she could leave three kids, the youngest of whom is only 2 years old, without so much as a “Goodbye! Have a nice Christmas you all!”

Let’s just say I “questioned her morals, value and character”.

Then Monday something else happened.

Monday the brother’s girlfriend decides to take the brother to work and drop him off. Why? So she can go to Joann’s “and look around”. Probably because I have been on a sewing frenzy since it *is* a week before Christmas, and Saturday I went to Joann’s to take advantage of their fabric clearance table that I had a 50% off coupon for. ( I got $120.00 worth of fabric for $30.00)

Now, the first question I asked her was “Why are you going to Joann’s?” She says “I’d like to make some stuff for my kids for Christmas” (You know, the kids she abandoned without so much as a goodbye two weeks ago).

Next question? “Oh, do you have a sewing machine?” (Because if you think I’m letting a fucking idiot start playing around on my $5K sewing machine, you’re fucking nuts.)

She says “No, I just thought you could help me make some pj’s and stuff for my kids.”

I say “Well, it’s kind of hard to do by hand if you don’t have a sewing machine.”

Now, does this sound like I’m offering to help you? Does this sound like I am offering to let you sew on my sewing machine? Does it?

Now, next issue. Just yesterday my brother “borrowed” $20.00 from me. Just so he would have money to get back and forth to work and money for drinks and stuff. He gets his first paycheck Thursday, and says he’ll pay me back. We’ll see. But if you are borrowing $20 on Sunday, why are you going to Joann’s on Monday to get fabric and stuff to hand sew stuff for the kids you abandoned?

So I ask her: “Did you come into some money overnight? Fabric isn’t cheap and the sale was only Saturday and Sunday.”

She says “No, I’m just going to “look around” so when Gary gets paid I’ll know what I need.”

Okey Dokey then  – knock yourself out.

She comes back a couple hours later – I didn’t see her come in, or I was busy with something else.

Gary comes home later that evening. He comes into the computer room and says “Did you see the fabric she got? Kind of cute. Can you help her make some stuff?”

I say “HUH? Gary, why are you borrowing money from me so she can buy fabric? Besides the fact that it was 10 times cheaper just fucking yesterday – and I’m not real keen on the idea of letting her use my machine. I explained all this to her before she left.”

He says “I don’t know anything about it.”

I go in her bedroom and start to rant about the fact that she’s spending money she doesn’t have  – on shit she can’t do  – for kids she ain’t got, and she stops me with a little pronouncement:

“Well, let’s just say the fabric “WAS A STEAL.” Wink Wink nudge nudge.

Now I’m ready to fucking keel over. Just keel the fuck over and die in my own fucking hallway.

Now, she’s read this blog – she’s MET the pregnant thief, who I introduced to her right in front of the pregnant thief as “THIS IS THE PREGNANT THIEF”. She heard me ask the pregnant thief “So, have you stolen a lot for Christmas yet?” She’s heard me more than once rant and rave to the pregnant thief’s boyfriend about how I can’t stand the pregnant thief and her thieving fucking ways. She *KNOWS* how I feel about this. She *has* to know.

Despite all that, despite knowing how I feel – she stole it. She stole fabric. Not just a piece of fabric. Not just a yard of fabric, because the store clerks have to cut that shit. She stole TWO FUCKING BOLTS of fabric. AND PATTERNS. Out of a store that I am in 3 fucking times a week. You do realize that if you get caught stealing they ask for your fucking address, right??? AND THAT’S MY ADDRESS! Out of a store I am in three times A WEEK. TWO FUCKING BOLTS.

Now I am furious. No, not furious, that’s too tame for what I am. Now I am beyond fucking livid. I have never wanted to punch somebody in the mouth more than I did at that moment. Never.

I screamed at her “Are you fucking kidding me?? You stole that Shit?? Out of Joann’s?? Are you fucking INSANE? I SHOP IN THAT STORE!! Why would you do that? What the fuck is wrong with you? WHY? WHY would you do that?”

She says “well I didn’t have any money.”

Now I really want to punch her in the fucking mouth.

So I go through the list of all the things I find even tangentially wrong with what she has done, not limited to the fact that “If you would steal from Joann’s what’s to make me think you won’t steal from ME?” and “If you think I am helping you sew with stolen merchandise you are outside of your fucking mind”, and “Paul is going to go fucking medieval on your ass”, and “Having this shit in my house is tantamount to receiving stolen property’. (To the last she replied “Oh, I would never involve you!” Wherein I had to go off on a tangent about how she had *ALREADY* involved me since she was a) living here and b) bringing stolen shit here – and she really did react like it had never crossed her fucking pea brain of a mind.) Then I  followed it up with the sobering fact that patterns (which she stole 4 of) cost about 35 fucking CENTS each when they are on sale and then combined  with the coupons Joann’s emails me on a daily fucking basis, and is it *REALLY* worth getting arrested to steal something that costs 35 fucking cents??? All the time I am screaming at her, my voice is getting louder and louder and higher and higher, and I’m sure the little vein in my forehead is looking like something out of “Night of the Living Dead” about now.

It must have been somewhat scary, anyway, because It’s about at this point that she starts crying – and through the fucking blubbering she says “I don’t react well to people yelling at me.”

Now I’m even more fucking livid and I say “How do you fucking react to having a fucking broomstick up your ass? The inmates do that sometimes to their crybaby bunkies in prison, you know. And if you think the police are going to be real sweet and friendly to your thieving ass  when they put the fucking bracelets on you, well, you haven’t watched fucking COPS enough times.”

It was shortly after my screaming this shit in her face that she ran into the bedroom sobbing. I was shaking too badly and I was too fucking mad to continue dealing with her, so I just left it alone.

I want to take her by the hand and go back to Joann’s with the shit she stole and make her say “I stole this” the way you would a 6 year old. I really do.

On the other hand, I want to kill her.

So, is this a “kick outable” offense? Should I make her return the stolen property in order to continue staying here? Should I make her return the stolen property *and* kick her out? Should I just say “Oh well, if she wants to take the fucking risk – let her?” Should I help her make her kids pj’s out of the stolen property? Should I tell Gary he can stay but the thief has to go? Or should I kick them both out? Should I tell her to move in with the formerly Pregnant thief? They’d probably get along really well. Let’s assume she *didn’t* know how I felt about thieves and thieving in general. Maybe in her experience and lifestyle, that’s an acceptable act. Should I take pity on her, explain the error of her ways, tell her that stealing is not something “nice people do”, and give her “another chance”. I mean, even Donald Trump gave Miss USA another chance.

Things are really tense right now around here. Unfortunately it’s just me and her alone all day, and to my surprise, I haven’t killed her yet. But then, she doesn’t come out of her room much.

In AFCA, where I originally brought this story, everyone says “kick her ass out”. Do you all agree?


4 Responses to “The New, Improved Thief”

  1. Amy said

    OMFG, Kim, kick her ass out.

    Your brother can stay (it’s the best way to encourage him to leave her skanky ass, after all) but she has got to GO, and go NOW, and change the locks.

    I’m amazed that you even need to ask! And no, you shouldn’t help her make stolen PJs for her kids, and you shouldn’t let her anywhere near your sewing machine, and you should watch her like a frigging hawk until she’s gone. Because you’re right – if she’ll steal from Joann’s, she’ll steal from you.

    She should be gone. Tonight as soon as Paul gets home. Seriously. And if she freezes to death in the cold, well, so much the better. Seriously.

  2. Gary Day said

    OMG! Kick her ass to the kerb, if your brother complains kick his ass to the kerb as well, I mean she’s
    obviously fucked up more than 99.99% of the rest of the world, and hey probably your brother could do
    better – even in malone 🙂

    What you should do is make some PJ’s and embroider “my cheap ass skanky ho mom stole this cloth for me”
    on the back or something ! 🙂

    I’d wait until they are both home, give her some money and tell her to goto the store for some milk or whatever and then get paul change the locks on the door (i.e now not waiting for 6 months) , if she starts a riot outside call the police and have her arrested and bung in the stolen goods to boot!

    Sounds like xmas will be a fun time in your house this year!!!

  3. “What you should do is make some PJ’s and embroider “my cheap ass skanky ho mom stole this cloth for me”
    on the back or something !”

    Oh my fucking God.

    That is absolutely the funniest shit I have heard all day. No – all week. And I hear some pretty funny shit.

    You rock.

    And I hope Amy reads this. She’ll die laughing.

    Thank you for making me literally LOL. I don’t do it often.


  4. Gary Day said


    Hey, glad to make you laugh, I laugh daily since i found you site — it does kick ass..

    As for amy, maybe you should rent the movie chasing amy – as a kind of metaphor for chasing her ass outta your house – see if she gets the drift, otherwise pauls boot up the ass should cover it nicely i reckon!

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