Hungry Cowboy: A Story of Love, Deception, and Slim Jims

In celebration of V-Day, let's check out a story of love and deception from our friends in Bozeman, Montana, who always seem to have something entertaining to report.

February 8, 2012: Someone reportedly stole beef jerky and DVDs from a grocery store around 10 p.m.

Dear Hungry Cowboy,

I realize that a long day on the range will leave you feeling tired, famished, and a little horny. Those cows won't herd themselves, now, will they? You park your trusty steed at the local Grand Union and dip in for some delectables when you realize--you didn't have room for your wallet in those tight Lee Dungarees! What to do?

You had a multitude of options at your fingertips, HC. You could have pocketed a few apples, oranges, or even some Hot Pockets. You had a whole aisle of crackers and cookies at your disposal, but you chose the meat snack marketed by a professional wrestler that costs 2 for $1. I hope you at least got the kind that has the cheese in it, too. Live a little. 

Once you were finished choosing your meal for the evening, you picked up a couple of randy flicks for later, Ride 'Em Cowgirl and An Officer and a Gentlehorse. Though I have to ask, where did you intend on sticking these videos, if you didn't have room for your wallet?

I guess we learned a valuable lesson here, HC: saddlebags aren't just for show. Next time, pack wisely. And maybe get a girlfriend.

XOXO,

PGG

I robbed Home Depot

I totally robbed Home Depot on Saturday. I donned the ski mask, black gloves, ninja suit and straight robbed them. (Ok, not really, but I might as well have been wearing the outfit for the crime I committed.)

K dragged me to the Depot kicking and screaming for a new toilet seat of all godforsaken things. He appeased me with a king sized PB Twix to keep me from throwing a fit. It worked (sortof) and I held his hand as he led me around the store through the aisles of swirly twirly power tools to the sea of bathroom amenitites.

With the assorted color selection, who
wouldn't want to wear these as jewelry?

As we all know, I need toys to play with to keep me occupied, so K gave me Cable Clamps. I put one on each finger as rings, then punched him in the kidney like they were brass knuckles until we headed for checkout. 

Forty minutes of my life that I can never get back later, we checked out with a cart full of crap and I removed my cable clamp rings one by one so the cashier could ring them up. We got to the parking lot and suddenly my face drained of all color and my jaw fell open as I realized that while playing Pretty Pretty Princess with the cable clamps, I had forgotten a bracelet.

We had that moment where we looked at each other and it ran through both of our minds: do we just go? It's $1.29. But my guilty conscience just wouldn't let me and I ran back inside to the cashier and embarrasingly declared "I'm sorry, I stole this!" He laughed, and gave me a knowing look that said: 'You're crazy, why the fuck didn't you just take it? But I admire your moral high ground nonetheless.' (Yes, a look can say that much.)

I returned to the car talking a mile a minute, as I always do when I finish a robbery, and verbally recounted the embarrassment of my criminal ways.

When we got home, we unloaded everything we had, and I rifled through the Home Depot bag, realizing suddenly that when I had gone back in to pay for the stolen cable clamp, I then LEFT it at the cashier counter. I could have made out with a free cable clamp, now I just paid for one that I didn't take.

That Karma is one complicated bitch.

This shit just writes itself.

Seriously people, this shit just writes itself. Saturday, before Carebear-Palooza, K and I were having a leisurely breakfast downtown. We returned home to finish decorating the front yard, when an elderly lady walked past us on the street and said "did you hear that someone robbed the bank?" We nodded; it was local news and everyone in Stars Hollow knew about it. "No," she said, "They robbed it AGAIN. Just now!"

My mouth dropped in disbelief: we were JUST having breakfast next to the bank! But more importantly... who robs the same bank TWICE? In ONE WEEK?

K: "How stupid do you have to be to rob the same bank AGAIN? These people must have serious problems."
Me: "...Or they're incredibly SMART. Because they have successfully robbed a bank 2 times without getting caught, and I have successfully robbed a bank no times. Who's the winner there?" (Granted, I'm not wanted for armed robbery, but it must have been a hell of an adventure.)

I cannot fucking WAIT to read about this in the police blotter. We are bound to be in morons in the news, AND I'm willing to bet there will be an overhaul of the Stars Hollow Police Dept, too. You can't make this shit up if you tried.

Leave the change, you filthy animal

We've been robbed. Not our house. But the bank that I could spit on from my front porch if I took a running start.

Who robs a bank anymore? I thought that went out of style when Bonnie and Clyde died in the 30s. I guess it just keeps coming back, like a bad rash.

Regardless, I slept with the lights on last night. I checked the locks, re-checked the locks, then built myself a pillow fortress on K's side of the bed to protect myself. From robbers, and also any monsters that may be hiding in the closet. I put all of my stuffed animals on the bed with me (like there weren't enough already) and left myself one crack in the pillow fort so I could still see the door.

I've been orchestrating my Panic Plan since I moved into this house. This is serious, people. I have strategically chosen my side of the bed because it is farthest from the door, and left two stairs on the way up to the second floor creaky so I'll know when someone comes up. I've also blow torched the door handle and rigged paint cans to drop down the stairway a-la Home Alone (that Kevin was a smart fucking kid.)

I've fantasized about the day I'll get to put my plan into action. Here's how it goes:
1.) Hear strange bank robber lady/rapist/giant monster creep up stairs when stair creaks.
2.) Do silent ninja somersault out of bed, snagging my phone from the bedside table.
3.) Sweep up all 3 cats and army crawl to my walk-in closet.
4.) Bar the door with laundry bins and call police.

Maybe I'm more easily scared then most. I started watching Monsters Inc. on ABC Family's 13 Nights of Halloween until the monster jumped out of the closet and scared the shit out of me. I recorded it for a later (daylight) showing and changed the channel. Yes, I know it's a cartoon.

When I woke up in the morning, I had 2 cats on the bed with me, and one in the hallway keeping watch. They can sense when I need protection. It's like they have ESPN or something.