O hateful world

My very expensive bicycle just got stolen. (Viz: Scene in The Goonies when Josh Brolin steals a bike with training wheels from a little Asian girl so he can chase after his brother and his friends. Me, I'm that little Asian girl right now, stomping my feet screaming "I want my bike back!")

This angers me for a few personal reasons, beyond the requisite humiliation of being had:
1. I know most people on my block, and now I have to suspicion the ones I don't know. I'm talkin' to you, Apt. 3 at 457 XXX Street.
2. Walls and doors and furniture notwithstanding, the bike was only 20 yards from my bed on the same level. I was sleeping when it all happened. A part of me thinks I could have rustled inside, turned a light on, or have otherwise scared off the thief. I don't wish I caught him red-handed because I don't have a gun.
3. My bike wasn't a recreational toy. I actually need it to get around. I mean the thief must have known as much, seeing as how we're in Red Hook Wiscons... err, Brooklyn.


I'm going religious for punishment:
1. I am at heart, a proto-Christian. So I honestly would feel better knowing this guy assumes any kind of guilt. Maybe not for stealing my bike, but for being a worthless piece of shit.
2. I am also Christian in the sense that I wouldn't be against tying an abortion clinic bomb to this his balls. [I'm obviously being sarcastic. Bombs are bad, abortions are a-ok, and thieves are dickless twats.]
3. I have tried to take a Buddhist approach to this too: shit happens. I want to shit on this guy.
4. Or maybe I'll go Ganesh on the thief and rip off all his limbs and head with my six arms. Or was it four?