Last night, I found that my car was busted into... while parked in an underground lot here at the apartment complex. I'm in conversation with my insurance agent, the police, the apartment manager, and (soon) a lawyer. There seems to be a string of these things going on out here lately, sure, but I am pursuing the option of negligence on the part of the landlord. He had cleverly decided to leave the garage door open, you see.
In other news of the massively retarded, my motherfucking dimwit of a soon-to-be-ex-roommate chose a very clever location to store one of MY PLASTIC UTENSILS. Namely, THE OVEN. In an apartment where his hobbies include disconnecting all the smoke alarms. So that's fun. At least it smells like smoke in here now, instead of the typical Mr.-Group's-garbage-and-rotting-filth stench.
in summation: eat a dick.