Unbelievable!

I hate paying bills. But there are many bills that serve an excellent, immediate, gotta-love-em purpose, including:
The cell phone bill which allows me to text my boyfriend while I should be paying attention in class.
The water bill which allows me to take extra-long showers for no other reason then to spoil myself.

There are however the bills that I cringe at when I see them in the withdrawal column on my bank statement. For instance:
Do I really need to pay my bank $2.00 every time I use a different ATM?
Do I really have to pay car insurance even though I haven't been in an accident in gawd knows how long??

I'm here to tell you, YES YOU DO! Pay your car insurance! Wanna know why??
Because even if you live in the safest friggin' neighborgood in your gawd forsaken city, you car can get STOLEN! Yes! Stolen! How do I know this? Because it happened to my Gina.

Little did I know, as I lazily watched Gray's Anatomy and tucked myself snuggly in bed last night that some good-for-nothing-scum-bag-of-a-retard would take my baby Gina. I've had Gina since high school! She was there with me through my super-awesome job at In&Out, made it all the way to Ohio State (and back) and was my best companion. She had just turned 200,000 miles, so proud of her!!

This morning I woke up, showered, breakfast (typical morning routine) and walked out my front door with a list of errands in hand ready to tackle the day. As I headed down my walkway, something was... wrong. I didn't see my car. The driveway (which my roommate parks in) is on the left and there's a giant bush (that our landlord refuses to trim and makes our house look like it would fit right in on the Discovery channel) on my right, so I thought Gina was simply hiding in the brush. But the further I walked toward the street, the more I realized that Gina was gone. "Where's my car?" I said to myself aloud, half-joking. And then I started to tremble, that weird feeling you get in your gut when you know something's off but your brain hasn't figured it out yet. I immediately called the boyfriend (the man of my dreams/legal advisor) and couldn't even form a coherent sentence. "I.. it's.. where's?.. I dunno, my car's gone, I think it got stolen." He gave me calm reliable instructions to call the city, police department, insurance company etc. (he's very handy in these situations). A few hundred phone calls later, my car is no where to be found.

THANKFULLY, I have full coverage insurance so I don't have too much to worry about (other then loosing one of my best friends) and may even get a snazzy new ride.

So, take the advise of your wise-old-friend Shelly, and pay your lame bills, because you never know when that irritating monthly fee will save your ass.