People suck.

Hey, you. Yeah, you, asswipe. The one who borrowed my lawnmower from the shed in my back yard, through the gate, probably multiple times. Without my permission. Without asking at all. And then returned it to its place with the rope for the pull starter simply tied to the pull handle, and some long metal band just draped over the mower.

You probably thought you were a good person for emptying the grasscatcher each time--and not even in my greens container (although you were surely tempted from time to time, I'll bet). You probably thought, "Sheesh, she leaves her yard such a jungle, she doesn't even miss the lawnmower. I'm really doing her a favor by keeping it going." You probably thought you were terrific for getting it right into my shed, just the way I left it. You might even have thought of approaching me after having broken the mower--but thought better of it and maybe it's even left your mind after one or two or twelve brewskies.

But I'm left with a broken mower that I can't get fixed, because the only place for miles and miles is closed today (despite its "MON 11-7" posted hours). And my wild jungle of a backyard won't be usable for my son's upcoming birthday party.

Thank you SO MUCH, you sorry excuse for a human being. You shit-covered waste of oxygen. I hope rats are chewing on your favorite, priceless baseball card right now, and that your wife is planning on running over your foot with the car, having found evidence of your cheating on her with your secretary, who isn't all that attractive and fairly frigid in bed anyway. You complete asswipe.