Scrambled eggs.

I woke up at 7:30 this morning to my mother telling me that someone was kind enough to egg my car. How obnoxious. In my mind, the only people that egg cars are 12-year-olds with some kind of inferiority complex, whether that stems from bullying or being unloved by their goldfish. Regardless of the situation, it's still kind of a dick move.

Fortunately for me, whoever did it obviously isn't very smart, because egging someone's car when it's misty, rainy, and foggy outside won't really do a whole lot besides force me to actually wash my car. Typically, egging a car is something you want to do when it's hot and sunny outside, because the egg bakes into the paint and you literally cannot get it out. By the time I got out there to wash it off, most of it had been washed away and only a small patch remained. Ha, morons.

I never really partook in the destruction or defacement of other people's property. Sure, I TP'd a couple houses, but I don't really consider that to be a major offense. I've always thought it would be fun to fork someone's lawn though, because if someone did that to me, I would think it was hilarious; doing it to someone else can only bring more hilarity. I can picture the face(s) of my would-be victim(s), awaking to find their front yard full of...forks. 

Another thing that always seemed fun was filling the yard with dish soap, and then when it rained or the sprinklers turned on, the foam and bubbles would be everywhere. I don't even understand how anyone could be bothered by this, it's almost like snow; have a bubble fight, build a BubbleMan, bitch about shoveling the sidewalk! I might even do this to my own house. Well, probably not, I doubt my parents would be okay with just letting it go away on its own, and I don't want to be the guy outside cleaning up bubbles. I'll look like a schizophrenic.

By the way, person who egged my car, if you're reading this, I hope you feel bad. Not about making me wash my car, because as I alluded to earlier, I needed to do it sooner or later; no, that is not the issue. The problem I have with your ovum affront on my 14-year-old Acura CL with an already shitty paint job is that I got woken up at seven-fucking-thirty. I went to sleep at 2:30. This is not cool. Do you know what it's like to be standing in the middle of your street before 8 AM with a bucket and sponge, washing your car in penguin pants, a t-shirt, and slippers? No, you will never know that kind of humiliation.

I think the worst part of it was, I planned on having eggs for breakfast this morning. Instead, I had oatmeal. I hope you feel guilty.