Apparently, when I have arrived home from the bar, to a hot, sweaty (and not in a sexy way) house, strip off my clothes, and start watching "Night Heat" while drinking leftover Malibu and mango juice, it takes me way too long to find my pants, or any pants for that matter, in order to run outside and catch the fuckers who are smashing car windows.
Damn you East Side Teddy, you win again.
But, you didn't smash my window, 'cause you saw me accidentally hit the alarm button when I was trying to push "door lock", when I got home. Yup, I saw you, you little fucker. And you will probably never come near my house again, now that you saw me run out my front door, half-dressed and pissed off, ready to kick some hooligan ass.
'Cause I roll like dat.