This is why we can’t have anything nice:

RIPTON, Vt.—A former home of poet Robert Frost has been vandalized, with intruders destroying dozens of items and setting fire to furniture in what police say was an underage-drinking party.Homer Noble Farm was ransacked last week during a party attended by as many as 50 people, Sgt. Lee Hodsden said.

[....]

Wicker furniture and dressers were smashed and thrown into a fireplace and burned, apparently to provide heat in the unheated building, he said.

Empty beer bottles and cans, plastic cups, and cellophane apparently used to hold marijuana were also found, according to Hodsden. The vandals vomited in the living room and discharged two fire extinguishers inside the building, on a dead-end road off Route 125.

Sounds like an Evening at John Cheever’s cabin to me but different strokes for Maple folks, ya’ll.

*ahem*

Whose place is this I think I know.
This flop way down an unlit road;
I’ll call the bros you get the beers
And watch his guests spark up the bowl.
My little Honda squeaked and squeal
Pitstop without a Quikmart near
Between the brews and our clambake
The most r0X0r evening of the year.
He heaves his hardest technicolor yawn to date
Christ it’s cold let’s burn for all our sakes.
Txt ur buds i-mob, i-saw, i-drink
Of bottle, brawl, and quiet break.
It’s time to go the cops will come I think.
A place ensconced with all my peeps,
And Stroh’s to go before I sleep,
And Stroh’s to go before I sleep.

Share This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 2nd, 2008 at 11:30 pm and is filed under Bizarro, Cavalcade of Whimsy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.