Friday night you stole my cool black trenchcoat. The coat I’ve looked goth in. Had sex on top of. The coat that kept me warm while checking IDs at the door to my bar. The coat that had my $40 in tip money in the pocket. The coat that had the Izzy’s check endorsing stamp in the pocket. You made me mad. I really could have used that money for gas and beer and food. Instead, my friends Krista and Mike took me to Denny’s where I vented my spleen a little bit about you. But I’m still angry. And thus, this is my prayer, my hope, my curse upon you, you thieving bastard.

May your water heater break, your pet pee in your shoes, and your toothbrush fall in the toilet. May you gain 80 pounds, get your car stuck in the mud, and break a shoelace. May your significant other cheat on you with your parent(s). May you get a toothache, diaherea on a date, and a bad haircut. May you get a big black zit on your nose. The big painful kind that hurt to touch or even look at. May your deoderant fail you, bad breath rear its ugly head, and your boss catch you picking your nose. May your best friend walk in on your flexing naked in the mirror, may your neighbor catch you watching scrambled porn on TV, and may you suffer from premature ejaculation. May your CD player stop working, your cable go out, and your radio get stuck on the Mexican station. May your VCR eat rented videos, your beer go skunky, and your chips go stale. May you drool in public, spray it – not say it, and superglue your fingers together.

In short, I hope that karma comes along and whups on ya till you cry, you coat, money, and check endorsing stamp thieving bastard. Get bent.