Thanks to the never-ending onslaught of police procedural shows, everyone in the world now has a pretty good understanding of the basics of forensic evidence. Wear gloves, clean shoes, hats; there's no excuse anymore for conducting a crime that leaves behind evidence that can be tracked back to you. It's just one of the rules of the game.

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Which brings us to Trevor Jones, who is apparently playing his own game.

While robbing a house in 2011, Jones parked his car in the driveway while he went inside to get a-robbin'. The legitimate resident of the home returned around then to find a strange car in the driveway and her door open, and perhaps wisely chose not to step inside. Instead, she looked inside the strange car in her driveway and took the keys and wallet that were apparently just sitting there in the car, because, you know, can't hold that when robbin'. And then she took off, taking with her all the evidence needed to blow this case wide open.

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"I wonder ... I wonder if that driver's license might offer any clues? CHIEF! CHIEF! I GOT IT!"

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Thankfully, for the sake of this story, this did not deter Trevor Jones. When he returned to his car with the stolen goods and realized his keys and wallet were missing, he did not give up. He so furiously did not give up, in fact, that his next move was to sprint straight into a nearby pond, because he is an awesome criminal. On the other side of the pond, he broke into another house, where he logged into Facebook, because who the fuck even cares anymore? And yes, when he sprinted out of that home, leaving behind puddles and Trevor Jones-shaped stains on the couch, of course he forgot to log out of Facebook. Of course he did.

The greatest part of this whole story is that, based on a cursory search of Google (we really tried hard for this one), it doesn't look like the police ever caught this guy! Which means that to this day, every single one of us is at risk of returning home to find a bunch of our stuff missing, "I am Trevor Jones" scribbled in lipstick on the walls, and a Trevor Jones-shaped hole in the wall of our house.