Dear Bumbling Thief,
You suck at life. You broke into my car, and didn't take anything. Instead, you pulled the front cover off of my radio, and stuck it in the compartment below the dash, and then proceeded to toss my shizz around like you're throwing confetti at a New Year's Eve party. What did that accomplish, exactly?
Granted, it's my fault for having such a sweet stereo system, with my stock speakers, and my ten year old used Kenwood CD player. It's my fault for having an expensive TEN YEAR OLD HONDA CIVIC with scratched paint, a thick layer of dust, pollen and bird shit on it, and a bumper sticker that says "I heart penguins". That just screams "Wealthy Person with valuables", doesn't it?
I find it hilarious that you not only didn't take the CD player, or any of the CDs in the car (why would you want them, they're all Britney Spears and Elton Jon, anyway), but you also didn't take my cell phone charger, or my fuzzy dice. Or my sweet screw driver. Or my fuzzy dice. I don't know how a person can resist fuzzy dice.
Oh, and next time you feel the need to rifle through my shizz, when you're done, could you at least shut my freaking door? It's raining out.
Love,
Stacie