So, while discussing X2 with the nerdy salesmen, I quickly peeled the security sticker off the back of a used Nintendo cartridge, a practice I perfected in my teenage years. I then slipped it into my back pocket while bending down to pick up a magazine. My heart beating, adrenaline and tequila coursing through my veins, I stumbled home, peed behind a car and played the $10 used cartridge until passing out on the sofa.
The next morning my conscience and a nasty hangover made me take the game back to the video game store, where I slipped it back into the bin and left, the store none the wiser.
Of course, now I'm trying to brag about it in your publication because I've always had a romantic view of the European pick-pocket. I know a cheap, used Nintendo game isn't worth fines and possible jail time. And honestly, I don't think I'll drink, then shoplift, ever again. But do you have any advice should this compulsion steal my wits in the future?
-- More Crook, Less Cat Burglar
It sounds like you've done our work for us already: You a) took the game back, b) acknowledged that a used "Mega Man" cartridge isn't worth prison rape, and c) vowed you won't repeat the crime. So would it be overkill here if we told you to get a life? Nah, we didn't think so.
But then again, just when we thought our letters couldn't get any more juvenile, we received this amazing little ditty:
Dear Karma Cleanser:
My girlfriend doesn't like to go out with me much. We've gotten into arguments about it because she'd rather go out with her friends than me. So I followed her on what's supposed to be a "girls' night out" and caught her in the act: romantically attached to this other guy, kissing, groping and whatnot. I didn't confront them. Fortunately a friend worked at the establishment where they were eating, so he helped me in pissing in their drinks. I went as far as marinating his food in the shit I took in the bathroom.
-- The One You Don't Want to Mess With
No wonder your girlfriend doesn't like you: You're a disgusting Cro-Magnon! Sure, the girl ain't right for lying to you, but your sophomoric, stomach-churning revenge is a recipe for karmic (and gastric) catastrophe. We hope you're planning to end this relationship, and you'd best be ready for a taste of your own medicine next time around.
Been bad? firstname.lastname@example.org.
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