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You know when you've just done something, anything, in some kind of situation and you come away and think FUCK, why didn't I say/do THAT? I do those all the time. Well, right now I'm damn proud of myself, because I actually did the right thing for a change. On Monday, I had to take 'im indoors outdoors to the train before lunch, a 20 minute round trip. I had my eight year old with me. When we got back from the station, something felt wrong as I walked in the front gate. I couldn't see or hear anything, but there was something wrong. I had seen two boys turn to look at my car as I had driven past them 20 minutes before, I saw them in the mirror and this plus two burglaries in the street the day before had me on edge. I held tight to my kid, and we went down to the back of the house, where it's easier to see the whole house. The kitchen door had been wrenched open. We'd been burgled. As I stood looking at the door, wondering what to do next, I heard shufflings from upstairs. They were still inside. I just wanted them out of my house. I didn't want to confront them, I didn't want to stop them, I didn't want the vindictive stupid little bastards to know that I knew their faces. I just wanted them away from my kid and my house and me. I screamed at the top of my lungs and shouted as loud as I could "get out of my fucking house you fucking little bastards", grabbed my kid as hard as I could by the hand and scarpered out of the side gate and locked it behind me. I heard them escaping as we escaped. I called the police and my neighbours gathered round the front of the house as they began to understand what had happened, and I could tell them all about it. Luckily, the spotty drug addled shits had managed only to stuff my ipod into their disgusting pockets... everything else they'd found was waiting in a pile on my bed, which they'd left once I interrupted them.. virtually nothing... a couple of broken cameras and my blessed wonderful camera that normally is always by my side (like my ipod) but had inexplicably left at home. I'm afraid this is about the worst writing you'll ever get from me... I'm exhausted... I'm writing this at 2 a.m. too scared to sleep for the second night in the row, in the same room as my kids. We've locked ourselves in. Scared to leave, scared to stay. My kid is absolutely terrified and won't leave my side. Her sister doesn't know anything about it. Of course the police know who did it, but I got the official GNR shrug of "there's fuck all we can do about it, luv, unless we catch them in the act, and anyway, they're minors... we'd have to let them go the next day". I've resolved to electrify the new place, from the ground floor up, with the doors and windows wired up to the mains, in the hope that it'll work like those bug zappers you get in restaurants. zzzzzzzzzAP. this cheered me up immensely yesterday, along with the shared outrage from all my friends that knew about it. This is a hosse posse, by the glorious mr. Wally Torta. Please note the Guernica reference and the sheer and extreme cleverness of the man. He should have a medal. 
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