Sledging

Ted thinks it’s hilarious that our door was set fire to this week.
He asked if I’ve upset anyone locally who might have decided to target us, as most of our closest neighbours had no problems. He seems to have missed the fact that we’re the only ones without an airport strength spotlight above our door, so we had the only path dark enough for the hoodlums to work in without detection.
That’s the worst thing about this whole incident, by the way, the fact that I keep using words like ‘hoodlums.’ I don’t want to call them perpetrators because it’ll just sound like I watch CSI:Miami. Someone’s coming out tomorrow to assess whether we need a new door, or whether it just needs a paint job. Then we can forget it and move on, and Ted can stop making jokes about it at our expense.
Anyway, I don’t think Ted really finds it funny – I think he was just winding me up to distract me and stop me concentrating on our latest chess game. I seem to be improving and I think he’s starting to find his superiority threatened. Maybe, if I keep studying and practicing, I’ll beat him before Christmas.
And while I’m making these wild guesses, maybe we’ll have a decent candidate in next year’s elections, maybe I’ll find someone to love me before I die miserable and alone, and maybe I’ll start pissing pounds and shitting jewellery.
Pardon the language.

RC 5-11-09