Don't mess with my automobile...

It seems that someone tried to break into my car yesterday night. Looks like the guy/girl (let us not be chauvinisitc here) rammed a screwdriver in the lock and the metal is all twisted now and the key will not go in easily. And there was this friendly note on my windshield which said,

1/20/2005
11:30 pm
Someone tried to still your car.

The person did not leave any other information. I feel very much like Vincent Vega felt about his Malibu (look for his conversation with Lance, if you don't get what I mean). I, like Mr. Vega, feel that it would have been worth him doing it just so that I could catch him doing it. Although, in retrospect, it is good that I was not present at that time, because unlike Vincent here, I don't carry a gun in my pocket. In retrospect of the retrospect, is a good thing because there are a lot of people who I would like to shoot on general principle.

If you think I have an unhealthy obsession of the movie Pulp fiction, I hope, for my sake, that it is just that... because Vincent Vega dies in the movie.

On an unrelated note, it seems that my mother was right after all. She always used to think that I seemed to attract mosquitoes while it never bothered anyone else in my family. Scientists seem to agree.