The Jailbird and the Donkey

Remember the girl I was telling you about who stole the T.V. on my dorm room floor? Well, she was arrested the other day for shoplifting.

 WHAT?!

I know! That’s what I’m thinking too. Talk about Karma. Try and pull the wool over the eyes of the Fourth Floor? I don’t think so. Our charismatic crew of crazies was more than willing to throw a party for the departing girl who stole from us–or, well, just the one of us–but when you hurt one of us you piss us all off. Mostly because we have to live with the complaining (which is enough to turn even the nicest of souls into the Grinch).

She had her boyfriend of one month bail her out, but not before just about everyone on the floor had seen her mugshot. Mhmm, that’s right folks. If you get arrested, anyone can look up your mugshot and the information of your arrest. What did you do? When did you get arrested? It is now public knowledge. And if someone decides to post that on Facebook then your secret is out with a capital O-U-T.

As far as the “Donkey” part of this post, I don’t have much to say about a donkey. Only that the one that lives next door loves vanilla wafers. I have found that if you bring a box down there you best run for your life (like the Zombie Apocalypse) unless you want to be trampled by two horses, a donkey, a hog, two goats, and a litter of kittens. Well, not so much the kittens. They just tag along because it’s something to do.

But what’s worse is if you don’t bring anything. Then you might get a warning look from Billy that looks something like this:

And if you choose to enter the fence (at your own risk) you get a stare from the devil goat that looks like this:

He scares me.

I’ll be b-a-a-a-a-ck. (Get it?) Yeah, I know that was b-a-a-a-d.

Mel

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