Someone tried to steal Brook’s shell.  I got home after a really long night of, first, drinking, and then, witnessing Jim Caviezel get in an horrendous car crash.  Ray and Pat Rodman were at the party.  I had eaten Burger King.

Got home and the door was open.  I locked the inside back door, which was pointless anyway, because it’s screen had been knocked out. 

Then I heard a noise, went into another room.  Sure enough, here was an Asian dude—maybe half-black, half-Asian—standing with Brook’s shell in one arm and a manilla envelope containing—I think—my grades in the the other.

I threw a phone (with a cord) at him and hit him in the leg.  Told him to get out.  Got shell and envelope back.  As he walked away I called him ***ger and he flipped me off. 

When he got a little ways off I apologized for the remark.  He came back to the steps in front of the houses.  I told him how I got the shell in the Bahamas.  He kept holding it up to his ear to he could listen to the sound it made.


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