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April 29, 2006
Home Invasion
So someone tried to enter my residence last night, uninvited. I was home alone when I heard someone turn my doorknob. I ran upstairs and looked out the peephole. There was a figure leaving the front door of our building. It looked like a woman. I wasn't wearing my glasses, so it could have been a fat man for all I know --I'm near-sighted for those keeping score. I made sure the door was locked and bolted it for extra safety.
I began watching several death shows to pass the evening away. The History Channel was showing back to back episodes of some 9/11 documentaries. I thought to myself, "How could anyone watch these morbidly depressing shows. You have to be pretty deranged to sit through that experience again." So I watched them both. I switched back and forth from the Discovery Health Channel cuz Dr. G was performing some intriguing autopsies. After that I switched on over to one of my favorite death shows, Forensic Files. The narrator, Peter Thomas, could make eating ice cream sound frightening. He's the same guy whose voice is sampled throughout that 1985 Paul Hardcastle Vietnam song, 19. After a marathon of that show, Skeleton Stories came on. This is why I should kill my television.
It was now 1:30 in the morning. Again, I was homo alone and resting peacefully in the comfort of my bed.
Then, the sound of the door handle turning occurred again. This time the handle was turned extensively and the door was trying to be pushed open. I thought it may have been Rob returning unexpectedly from a quick trip. This would be plausible except for the fact that he has keys and would have knocked or called if he had forgotten them. There wasn't a knock or the sound of anyone's voice, just the constant turning of the doorknob and the thrusting of a locked door. The sound suddenly stopped.
I was freaking out. I lept out of bed, ran upstairs and peered through the peephole again. The front door to our building was slowly closing but no figure was in sight. It was obvious, though, that someone had made a fast getaway. I contemplated running out to see if I could catch a glimpse of the murderer, but realized I was only wearing my leotard boxers. Fuck it, I ran down the hall anyway but they were long gone.
Who the fuck would try to come into a home at 1:30 in the morning when most people are likely sleeping? If they were going to rob our place, wouldn't they come during business hours when most people are away? If it were a bunch of drunk partiers who hate me, wouldn't they start yelling or banging on my door to piss me off? If someone wanted to have hot, sweaty man-sex with me, wouldn't they have at least called first? This was all very strange. Then I thought perhaps it was hot new porn star, Jake Dakota, finally responding to some of my stalker emails for an unscheduled visit. I did tell him he is allowed to come whenever he wants.
I laid back down and slept the rest of the night without being slaughtered or raped. I awoke in the morning and realized I had left the back gate wide open with the door unlocked. Um, oops. It obviously wasn't Jake Dakota as he would have come through the back door and not the front.
If this happens again, I will taser their ass, tie them up and force them to watch HGTV.
Courtesy Mustang Video
Come to dBud, Mr. Dakota. Seriously.
Posted by durban bud at April 29, 2006 05:39 PM
Comments
That is why I keep my copper lightning rod near the front door...it also serves as a handy shortspear in such situations. I will defend my home naked if need be.
Posted by: jimbo at April 30, 2006 12:50 PM
Dbud & Jimbo, smörgåsboard of lust and paranoia. It's cute. Defending the home in the buff is one of my worst nightmares; maybe that's why I alwasy sleep in boxers and a t-shirt.
Posted by: Carl at April 30, 2006 03:29 PM
Sleeping in clothes is highly overrated - besides Carl the element of naked surprise could disarm even some of the worst criminals...
Posted by: TOS at April 30, 2006 10:39 PM
Scary! But, I have to admit that if I thought it meant that I might catch a glimpse of you running down the hall in only your boxers, I might come knocking on your door at 1:30am. Where do you live again? :-)
Posted by: Bubala at May 2, 2006 09:53 AM
The thieving junkies are getting more brazen. Early one morning in November, some tool shattered a window lock, and climbed through my window... while I was in the shower! Luckily, said dickhead only took some electronics, and my virtue was left intact.
Posted by: JD at May 2, 2006 03:01 PM
tijjy baby, IF, and i do mean 'IF' that deranged muthaphucka gets into yo house again, the least you could do for all the trouble he or she went through is to drop those boxers and phuckin *phlaunt* all that naughty stuff ya mama gave ya! better yet, hold your manhood in one hand and your best dildo in the other and wink at the uninvited guest, telling him (or her!) to come hither for a *real good time*. that should do it, no? rock on.
Posted by: t.todd at May 3, 2006 03:52 AM
thank goodness you were in your boxers, d-bud, and not your leotard!
as my dear friend nancy drew once taught me while we were working on the scarlet slipper mystery, "if you can at all prevent it, do not chase after thieves when you are clad only in a leotard. it is unseemly."
heavens!
Posted by: jiminy at May 7, 2006 09:48 PM