turning crime into art

I almost bought pepper spray today. I like to trust humans as a general rule, but you just never know what could happen... which is the precise reason I decided to stop going on runs with a creme brulee torch as a weapon. I set out tonight (while it was still light out) and ran to Big Lots (don't you dare judge me) where I whispered (twice) to an employee, enquiring if they had any pepper spray. I didn't want any weirdos to become aware of my lack of ammunition. We found some. It was $10. Seeing as how I've never been a mace purchaser I was not ready for this. So I set off into the pits of the store to find something else I could use as a weapon. Three minutes later I came upon this:

It is what is know in some cultures as a three-foot long, glass vase. And I could totally take some creeper out with it. Also, it was $3. So, I made my purchase, and headed back out to finish my jog. One Lady GaGa song later, I came upon these:

which took my embarrassingly labored breath away and which also may or may not have been growing in a stranger's yard. In my defense, it was a disaster zone. Unkempt to the utmost degree. And in all honesty, and at least 50% probability, these were weeds, because a) there were a million of them and b) when I pulled them out of the ground they were attached to what looked like giant onions. (Please don't comment and say, "Um, they're called bulbs" because, "Um... I don't really even know what that means.") As people with furrowed brows passed by and as I checked the lit windows of the residence I was felonizing for signs of life, I tested out some excuses in case I was caught, such as "You're welcome for weeding your lawn for you" and "Que? No hablo...me no speaking the English. Ole." Things got tricky when I tried to break off the onion-bulbs from the base of the stems. They were not cooperative. So using my God-given resourcefulness I bit them off one by one, again, just waving to passers by as if this is how I weed "my" lawn all the time. I then ran home with the satisfaction one can only get from committing a crime and getting away with it. Me and O.J...we get it.