Pretty grim thing to bother writing about, and probably not the best idea if I just wanna continue not giving any more of my dried up shits, but figured I’d rant hard and somehow this will all just become a story of a funny thing that happened. Just so happened to be one of the most gutting moments of my life.
Right, start at the beginning. I was round me nan’s on Christmas Dayns. Actually no, I was the furthest from me nans house I’d ever been. In a little known cunt-tree called Canada, on the far side of it as well, as this bitch is big. We had big plans for Christmas, which included the biggest bottle of vodka I’ve ever seen, 2 presents each wrapped in newspaper under a broken lamp (the tree), a could-be-fatal, but probably delicious dinner, and blasting tunes all day long finally hooked up to the biggest speakers in the house. Oh and the whole place to ourselves with 0 complaints expected whatsoever (new record).
So as expected we went mental. Cracking open the first can at like 10am and drawing on the living room floor by 11 was pretty much the deal. I remember looking at the one bit of footage I saw before the pure theft of all possessions (explain later), filmed from a camera left in the corner of the room, and thinking “fuuuuuckinell, this must have been when we got back. We are absolute waste”. Then the video cuts to when we actually did get back from our trip down the pub, and it’s just a fucking disaster. Serious lack of clothes, visible flooring, and dignity.
Yeah basically here’s what’s was up. I realised a few days before Christmas that I was (WAS) now in the possession of 3 pretty decent devices for filming with, and we were going to have a 3 man Christmas party, so it was agreed that one would be set up in the corner, I’d film with my phone as much as I could, and the lads would take it turns in filming anything worth while with the GoPro. To be honest this is the main thing I am pissed off about, the loss of so much footage, including what was probably the loudest and most ridiculous Christmas Day 3 lonely lads can have.
So we ate, drunk, partied, danced, broke shit, and filmed it all from 3 different angles. We had a nice rest after dinner, cracked open the voddy, and got ready to head down to the pub for an orphans Christmas smash. Apparently, the second I walked into this pub I pretty much threw the door off it’s hinges and fell into a table, and was told that we couldn’t drink there, but obviously in the nicest, most polite Canadian way. Pretty sure he would have appologised and we ended up having a chat anyway, rather than an instant kick out and threat of the police.
We found a bar 1 second down the road that would serve us, and believe it or not, this is where shit gets a little hazy. Again, this is just something I was told, but I supposedly told the bat tender to shut the fuck up because I was in the middle of a story, and he was kindly mentioning that I was drunk to an illegal amount, but still no kicking out from this place. Lovely people.
So anyway, I get kicked out. Tried to walk home and pretty much crawled most he way. I just realised this has become a story of hey, check how drunk I got, fucking cool right? But basically, point is, I was having a pretty gnarly day, and it didn’t let up when I got home soaking from crawling in puddles. We continued throughout the night, only stopping when our bodies couldn’t hold onto the planet anymore, and called it a day around 4am. One thing I do remember though, very specifically, is going to sleep with my brand new iPhone lying next to my head, on my pillow, blaring music as I went to sleep.
I wake up and, obviously, it sucks. I’m awake and feeling the grimmest ever (you always feel the worst EVER), and the first thought I have is to find my phone and watch back some of last nights award winning footage. After 4/5 seconds of looking and realising that if it’s not in direct arms reach, then it’s not going to happen, I go back to sleep. I repeat this process another couple of times until I start to wake up and properly and try to actually look for the thing. Looking under the bed, actually getting out of the bed, everything.
The gaff is in too much of a state to even begin to start looking for something properly, and my GoPro which I am SURE I left sitting on the shelf seems to be missing too, but they are both small objects and could be anywhere. No need to panic just yet. The more I clean and the more I look in every single corner though, the more I’m thinking OK enough, actually WHERE is this shit. At this point though my massive Sony HD Camera and MacBook are still sitting clearly in plain sight next to me as I clean up.
After speaking to Squad and Kian, who don’t have the phone or camera, the only thing that doesn’t add up is that weird kid that for some reason was in my house and tried to get into my bed. Did I mention that? Yeah some dweeb that contributed nothing to the party, and might as well as been a drink wasting ghost, made his one and only move towards being an animated human, by trying to get into my bed while I was going to sleep. On he jogged.
We decided it MUST have been him. Even though Squad was convinced that he saw my phone AFTER the kid left, and that he didn’t even know what the GoPro was, and there was a full bottle of vodka missing that he couldn’t have taken as he was seen getting into his taxi, and we were all so hungover to piece together any straight sentences, and we were all so confused that ANY answer made sense…. So we stormed out the house looking for the kid at the bar that we met him at, cus he was definitely going to be there.
He wasn’t there. We told were told by people that know him though that IF he did steal something it was 100% an accident because he’s a really nice dude but just gets a bit too wasted sometimes. Sounds like a fucking loser haha (hypocrisy). I was still in a state of disbelief that it wasn’t just in the house in a place I hadn’t looked yet. Me and Squad went for some food and tried to push pieces of our mind back into the right slots.
I walked home feeling kinda numb because first of all this was a brand new phone, but more than that, there was SO MUCH footage on the iPhone and GoPro that I REALLY wanted to watch back right now! That’s all I cared about really. That is until I came home to find my previously locked front door wide open, my previously locked bedroom door wide open, my too high off the ground to climb in (so I though) window wide open, and my HD Camera and MacBook which I had locked in my bedroom for ‘safe keeping’ were both missing.
I think at this stage I was just in a state of mild shock. The worst feeling was that some fucker had actually, definitely, without any doubt, come into my house and robbed the fuck out of me. It took a good few days to stop jumping out and running into the living room with a broken baseball bat (not joking) at every single sound and creak. Which is a lot in these weird wooden Canadian houses. I felt sick that someone had strolled in and helped themselves to my shit TWICE. One time while I was fucking sleeping. They stole the phone from next to my head while I slept, then came back a few hours later, in the 1-2 hour window when the house was empty, and helped themselves to the rest.
I won’t go into the blames and revenge plans that have been talked about half jokingly over the last month, because as passionate as I (and friends) were about ‘finding this fucker’, that has now calmed down into just thinking well it’s all over now, I’m not gunna get my stuff back, but I can get on with my life. There were some pretty wild accusations being thrown around though, and at one point I went round the neighborhood Pet Detective style (is that the comparison I’m looking for?) and actually got a ton of information about some the characters we have living round here. I don’t wanna go into detail but one woman invited me in and we talked for about an hour over trouble in the neighborhood, people getting up to no good.
The Happy Ending
There isn’t one. The insurance company I’ve been using for a couple of the items are being the sharpest and most prolonged pain in both of my bollocks, and dealing with them from the other side of the globe makes things a bit more difficult. Especially as they don’t seem to understand that my 2 forms of communication, my phone and my laptop, have been fucking STOLEN. Which is why I am contacting you. Asses.
Honestly though, I’ve given up caring. Whatever really. I’ve got plans to replace all the footage (once I replace the camera?) and I’m sure I’ll be able to make it much better this time. It’s not like I didn’t enjoy going to those places, I didn’t go purely to film them, and summer is just around the corner. I have considered looking in pawn shops and scowling the internet every day, but whenever I think about it too much I get a bit like…… uhhhhh. You know? Also, some woman who lives right across the street put a letter through my door saying she’d seen someone snooping round the other day, which put me right back on edge and checking every room again, but only for like a day.
I don’t wanna end up like a suspicious and paranoid hater of humans. For the first day or two I was looking at every single person like IT AS YOU YA CUNT. Even old women out walking the dog that wouldn’t recognize my phone or laptop even if they worked in the Apple Store, and especially the 1/2 sketchy looking people you see around here once per bloody month.
So what I’ve learned first of all is now to pretty much keep my life online. You can’t steal the internet, so as long as everything is backed up ‘on the cloud’ or whatever, just gotta be careful with passwords and that. Also, in the future I won’t be so bloody lazy with photos/footage and the giant gap between actually capturing them and editing and uploading them. I had a giant backlog, about 50 or so posts worth, just sitting there, which could have been whittled away night by night, but instead just sat growing in the ‘edit it later’ folder. Although I did enjoy going out and getting this media, the main point really was to reflect back and I now can’t do that. In the future, I’ll be giving myself a strict deadline between getting the footage and getting it up, and in the mean time at least have it backed the fuck up ey. Learn that.
So turns out Canada is not crime free, and obviously this has lead to a ton of people telling me their crime experiences. Seriously though love, unless it’s a stabbing and theft of your baby, you ain’t gunna beat mine. No soppy bollocked tosspot gets robbed twice in one fucking day. AT CHRISTMAS.
Though I may as well include a photo of the room where this all took place, seeing as I don’t have any other photos to add right now! Click to enlarge, please comment below if any shits are given.