Somebody’s Using My Stuff

It keeps happening and it’s got to stop. I, Frank Little, do not like whoever or whatever is interfering in my life. Somebody’s using my stuff.

Yesterday, my telephone stopped making phone calls. Refused. Incoming calls were okay and the other zillion functions seemed fine. But I couldn’t call out. Annoying but not critical. Who still makes phone calls?

And yet it gave me a bad feeling.

My watch stopped. I guess it needs batteries but I haven’t looked at it in years and my phone still tells time. No problem.

My weather app says “snow” but it’s August. What’s up with that?

But things really got weird with my wireless printer. I swear I didn’t send anything but this morning I found a sheet of paper on it. The paper said “I see you, Frank.” You’d need a password to access my printer. And it’s Bluetooth—so you’d have to be nearby.

I’m upstairs right now. My home security system motion detector digital alarm just went off. The high definition camera is showing me something or someone looking in my first floor window. I can’t quite make out him or her or it.

This is creepy. I’m calling 911. Or I would if I could.