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I know why you did it. I know how much fun you had. But that doesn’t change anything. I’m coming for you, you little boners.
The shit went down in the burbs last night.
They got me. I knew this day would come. If you’ve seen V For Vendetta, you know the movie mainly revolves around a burned super-human murdering everyone who’s ever wronged him. Last night, karma left a red rose on my doorstep in the form of some piece of shit teenager murdering my doorbell and admittedly scaring the piss out of me.
This punk bastard had to have been the scion of Usain Bolt, because despite being right by the door, I didn’t see a single sign of him or his accomplices (teenagers are like tequila shots; there’s never just one). The only thing keeping an instantly livid me from walking the streets with a baseball bat like Neegan from The Walking Dead was the toddler who was still miraculously still asleep despite the disturbance.
As a baby-faced twenty-five-year-old, have I already turned into the “get off my lawn you whippersnappers” guy? Maybe, but it’s more the principle of the matter. I got beat, and even worse than that I got beat by teenagers. That’s almost as bad as watching your favorite college football team get beat by Kansas.
I’ve been there. I’ve been that little shit running around a neighborhood thinking I’m having the time of my life pounding on the doors of unsuspecting poor bastards who just want a peaceful night while their miserable kids sleep. I’ve given more unwanted knocks on doors than a convicted sex offender doing his duty to inform the neighborhood of his presence.
But that was then, this is now. Now I’m an old curmudgeon. I don’t put up with that shit. If my lawn wasn’t a dumpster fire, I’d be batting all the neighborhood kids away from it, but since I don’t have that luxury, complaining about an unsolicited doorbell assault is all I’ve got.
It’s very possible that I made it worse for myself. While I didn’t see the silent assassin, they may have seen me emerge. Nothing makes a ding dong ditch master happier than seeing their red-faced angry victim flying out of the house like a bat out of hell. For all I know they were in their pre-planned hiding spot silently giggling like the pieces of shit that they are.
Maybe it was an isolated incident, but maybe I’ve been targeted. Growing up we all knew that house. The one where you had your own personal Old Man Clemons, who hated shit and would give you the reaction you craved. Well, if those hormone addled pieces of shit think they’re getting off free and clear, they’ve got another thing coming.
I was once like you, and somehow, some way, I will defeat you. This is my neighborhood you sons of bitches. Don’t ever forget that.
And stop ringing my fucking doorbell..
Image via YouTube
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Kyle Bandujo
The artist formerly known as Crash Davis. My kid doesn't think I'm funny.
@kylebandujo
@bandujokyle
kyle.bandit
Damn these young whippersnappers with their Snapphones and their iChats.
Get a paintball gun and show those little fucks who’s boss. It may not be the “adult” thing to do, but it’s fun as hell.
I was going to suggest a real gun, but I guess you could go down the paintball road as well.
Reload shotgun shells with rock salt. It will still get you an Attempted Murder charge, but it probably won’t kill the little bastards.
Gotta send a message.
Biggest Super Soaker money can buy. Much less likely to end with a weapons charge.
Teenagers run the burbs. There’s nothing we can do.
Real question though – did you call the shit poop?
SHE CALLED THE SHIT POOP!!!
You beat me to it you, stupid meetings.
reverse the wires on the doorbell so that whoever presses it gets shocked instead. Gets rid of unwanted door to door people too
My parents ring my doorbell. That feels like a poor idea.
or a great idea
I guess it will keep them from surprise visits. You’re pretty smart.
I feel they are the few in your inner circle you make aware to prevent being shocked
Or you could put a thumb tack facing outwards on the doorbell.
Get a doorbell cam, good for security, also good for catching ding dong ditchers. Once you know their identity you have their entire being in your hands and you can destroy them.
Also, V for Vendetta is a fantastic movie.
Books way better.
C’mon Dew, don’t be one of those guys.
I wasn’t aware there was a book, but I’m going to check it out. Isn’t there a graphic novel?
We used to get this from our neighbors in college. So one night we disabled the light within the button and super-glued the tack piece of a thumb tack to the doorbell. The neighbors didn’t show up, but our UPS delivery man stopped ringing the doorbell after that.
Name checks out
I really hope you didn’t yell “HEY YOU KIDS GET BACK HERE” from the porch. That was instant fuel to a pattern of abuse.
Never give any reaction to these heathens, it’s what makes it worth coming back for seconds.
Get one of those fake doorbells that they sell around Halloween that will shock the person who rings them.