CMIUC

Some CMIUC immature assholes were a nuisance to my neighbourhood just moments ago.

These CATCH ME IF YOU CAN (CMIUC) or otherwise better known as, FUCKTARDS WITH NO CHEMISTRY, MATHS OR PHYSICS HOMEWORKS that they decided to wear black, in a group of three to run around my apartment building and throw those CHILD’S-PLAY bomb bags into homes.

AND MY HOME WAS ONE OF THE TARGETS.

A VERY, VERY BAD IDEA, SMALL DICKS.

If they were dumb enough to stay within 500 meters radius from my building, they should get their photo-ID taken down by the MEN IN BLUE because I dial into my Neighbourhood Police Centre.

I swear, when I said “bomb bags” the officer at the other end was all, “THROW WHAT?!!!”

To prevent a bomb disposal team, the Special Operations, and the Gurkhas to break my gates by tracking my mobile location, I repeated it slowly for that officer:

“You. Know. Those. Childs. Play. Bomb. Bags. That. Explodes. Foam. All. Over. The. Place. Yeah?”

“Oh. Okay.” Came the reply with a huge relief.

I mean, if it is really explosive, I would have dialled TRIPLE-NINE and not those 1800-CALL-POLICE-FOR-NON-EMERGENCY-AND-GET-IGNORED kind-of hotlines, you know?!

I still have a feeling the officer didn’t get what I was trying to say, but he still manage to realize that it’s not really explosives. So I suggest, “maybe if you have extra manpower, you might want to send some over here to patrol.”

Then I thank him, of course, for his panic when I said “bomb bags.”