to the douchenozzle that stole the lights off my bike, which was locked in my building's basement:

every weekday on my seven mile bike commute to and from work, i used those lights to increase my odds of NOT DYING on chicago's city streets. since i never see any other bikes down here, i'm guessing you're just walking around your apartment shining bright blinking lights on things. not that that's not a worthy endeavor, but i can't help wondering if maybe i didn't need those lights just a little bit more than you do.

since i'm pretty sure i'll never see those lights again, and since i had to buy new ones over lunch today anyway (to increase my odds of not dying on my way home tonight), i curse you with the dark magic of my eastern european forebears: may your internet connections always drop at the most inopportune times, may you never wait less than 30 minutes for any city bus (woe betide the innocent commuters who share your route and schedule), and may you always leave sexual partners vaguely but noticeably unsatisfied.

gros bisous,

sarah