True Story©... Home Invasion!
Not to let y'all in on anything more than you want to, need to -- or particularly ASKED -- about me, but I sleep naked no matter the season. The only difference is I close my bedroom door when Ava is at my house and not with my ex wife a woman I had a wedding with once...
Why am I telling y'all all of this?
Because we had to deal with a home invasion last night!
We came up to our bedroom and stripped buttnekkid. Wife Person™ turns on the television in the bedroom and puts it on The Blacklist... or Lucifer... or Burn Notice... whatever...
Why am I telling y'all all of this?
Because we had to deal with a home invasion last night!
We came up to our bedroom and stripped buttnekkid. Wife Person™ turns on the television in the bedroom and puts it on The Blacklist... or Lucifer... or Burn Notice... whatever...
She turned on the TV and puts it on a show that will serve as background noise until we fall asleep when there's a noise in the living room, it is the Amazon home screen...
No biggie. We got these Fire TVs in my house, turning on the TV in our room sometimes catches the sensor across the hall in the guest room or even the living room TV sometimes.
As I head downstairs to turn the TV back off, Yeti is raising PURE HELL from the dogs' room, like someone is in the house. I turn on the living room light and--... HOLY SHIT!!! Someone is in my house! Apparently drawn by the decanter and whiskey glasses on top, he was inside the liquor cabinet.
It should be noted that while I am sober I do still keep alcohol inside my house in case we are entertaining people who partake, though through therapy and development of a STEELED willpower, I am not compelled or triggered by its presence in my house; it has been here since before last drank in July of 2022.
He had snapped to attention when I turned the living room light back on.
[Phlip note: I DID say I was in bed and we sleep naked, right?]
I saw my moment. I moved the baby's toys off the loveseat and sat down, then crossed my legs...
I could already hear sirens approaching, Wife Person™ had quite apparently called the police already.
Due to my uncomfortable stall tactic, he tried running out the front door and was snapped up before he could get more than two steps off my front lawn.
While I watched -- still naked -- from my front window three officers from two cars working him over in the street, a third car stops in front of my driveway. Oh shit, I know who this is.
He approaches my porch and I open the big door back...
I finally compelled Ramsbottom to just go ahead and take my statement and get that out of the way, describing the whole situation in the same detail from above.
To say he was not amused by me and my shenanigous dipshittery would be an understatement. Not that we don't have history or that he should ABSOLUTELY know better or anything. I mean, I KNEW my shorts were next to my bed the whole time and if it had been ANYTHING other than what initially caused me to go downstairs then I'd have had them on the whole time anyway.
At the end of it all, three and a half hours after this all began with a TV randomly powering on, I finally got back in the bed, but I couldn't sleep. I stewed over having had my space violated, TWO cameras ignored and this motherfucker having the NERVE to question how I dress -- or as it were, DON'T dress -- in the comfort of my own home.
I got out of bed promptly at 6am and ran to Lowe's to put a deadbolt on that laundry room door.
No biggie. We got these Fire TVs in my house, turning on the TV in our room sometimes catches the sensor across the hall in the guest room or even the living room TV sometimes.
As I head downstairs to turn the TV back off, Yeti is raising PURE HELL from the dogs' room, like someone is in the house. I turn on the living room light and--... HOLY SHIT!!! Someone is in my house! Apparently drawn by the decanter and whiskey glasses on top, he was inside the liquor cabinet.
It should be noted that while I am sober I do still keep alcohol inside my house in case we are entertaining people who partake, though through therapy and development of a STEELED willpower, I am not compelled or triggered by its presence in my house; it has been here since before last drank in July of 2022.
Me: "What the FUCK, man!?"
He had snapped to attention when I turned the living room light back on.
Me: "You heard me, what the fuck you doing in my house?"
Him: "Why's your dick out?"
[Phlip note: I DID say I was in bed and we sleep naked, right?]
Me: "Dude, I am in my own house, I can--... why the fuck am I even answering this!?"
Him: "I was just--..."
Me: "... I don't give a fuck what you were doing. How'd you even get in here!?"
Him: "I jumped the fence and came in the laundry room. No deadbolt on that one. Can't you, like, cover up or something?"
Me: "So lemme get this straight... YOU are in MY house, ostensibly to steal something of value but are concerned for my modesty?"
Him: "It's just--... it's uncomfortable."
I saw my moment. I moved the baby's toys off the loveseat and sat down, then crossed my legs...
Me: "My eyes are up here, big boy."
Him: "P-please stop... PLEASE"
Me: "You wanna--... y'know, take this upstairs?"
Him: "What if I say 'yes'? Then what?"
Me: "Well I hadn't thought of this through to you saying yes. Shit..."
Him: "Can't you like, cover up with that blanket right there?"
Me: "You could have BEEN left. The longer you stay, the more likely I am to call the police to come and get this dead body out of my living room!"
Him: "Dead body!?"
Me: "... and I'll still have my dick out when they get here!"
Him: "DAMMIT, can't you just--..."
Me: "GET THE FUCK OUT!!!"
I could already hear sirens approaching, Wife Person™ had quite apparently called the police already.
Due to my uncomfortable stall tactic, he tried running out the front door and was snapped up before he could get more than two steps off my front lawn.
While I watched -- still naked -- from my front window three officers from two cars working him over in the street, a third car stops in front of my driveway. Oh shit, I know who this is.
He approaches my porch and I open the big door back...
Me: "Good evening, detective Ramsbottom. I can't call you 'buttsex' right now because--..."
Ramsbottom: "... why are you naked?"
Me: "Because I was in bed when he broke on my house."
Him: "Well can't you put on some shorts or something so we can take your statement?"
Me: "My house, my rules... You will take my statement like this or not at all."
Ramsbottom: "Your wife knows you're this difficult?"
Wife Person™ (now fully clothed): "It's his only charm!"
Me: "Ma'am, I got this."
I finally compelled Ramsbottom to just go ahead and take my statement and get that out of the way, describing the whole situation in the same detail from above.
To say he was not amused by me and my shenanigous dipshittery would be an understatement. Not that we don't have history or that he should ABSOLUTELY know better or anything. I mean, I KNEW my shorts were next to my bed the whole time and if it had been ANYTHING other than what initially caused me to go downstairs then I'd have had them on the whole time anyway.
At the end of it all, three and a half hours after this all began with a TV randomly powering on, I finally got back in the bed, but I couldn't sleep. I stewed over having had my space violated, TWO cameras ignored and this motherfucker having the NERVE to question how I dress -- or as it were, DON'T dress -- in the comfort of my own home.
I got out of bed promptly at 6am and ran to Lowe's to put a deadbolt on that laundry room door.
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