Oops

"I picked the wrong house," he reportedly said, "because a UFC [mixed martial arts] fighter lived there and beat me up."

Kind of says it all, doesn't it. :p
 
Some years ago one of our local drug addicts, now deceased, tried to burgle the weekend retreat of a South London "businessman". I can't call the "businessman" anything else because nothing has been proven in a court.

The "businessman's" professional associates were irritated. The drug addict apparently injured himself, since he would not identify any assailant, and was dumped on a sandbank with the tide rising. Fortunately for him, a passing yacht noticed his unconscious body and retrieved him.

Og
 
Some years ago one of our local drug addicts, now deceased, tried to burgle the weekend retreat of a South London "businessman". I can't call the "businessman" anything else because nothing has been proven in a court.

The "businessman's" professional associates were irritated. The drug addict apparently injured himself, since he would not identify any assailant, and was dumped on a sandbank with the tide rising. Fortunately for him, a passing yacht noticed his unconscious body and retrieved him.

Og

Now Og, I believe that you're jumping to conclusions here. A lot of people in your area go swimming in the sea with an anchor tied to them, don't they?
 
Many, many years ago, I came home to my flat and noticed some things missing. I looked up and saw someone exiting to the fire escape through a bedroom window. A quick check under my bed disclosed that they had missed my shotgun.

I assembled it and loaded the chambers as I made my way to the roof, where I met two young men adding a turntable to the accumulation of my goods already there.

They looked at the shotgun leveled their way, and one said, "Oh, sorry, wrong apartment."

The two promptly returned every item to its original place, and apologized, asking if it were ok for them to leave. I proposed that if I did see them around again, they might find themselves staying far, far longer than they would wish.
 
Many, many years ago, I came home to my flat and noticed some things missing. I looked up and saw someone exiting to the fire escape through a bedroom window. A quick check under my bed disclosed that they had missed my shotgun.

I assembled it and loaded the chambers as I made my way to the roof, where I met two young men adding a turntable to the accumulation of my goods already there.

They looked at the shotgun leveled their way, and one said, "Oh, sorry, wrong apartment."

The two promptly returned every item to its original place, and apologized, asking if it were ok for them to leave. I proposed that if I did see them around again, they might find themselves staying far, far longer than they would wish.

Proof that the US' silly gun legislation -does- have some merits :D
 
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