Your buddy left his to-do list in my boyfriend's car. When he was stealing the radio.
Apparently he ran out of time before he could finish making the list. Because he left off the parts about 1) stealing radios, 2) not knowing what "PIN" stands for and 3) being a stupid, list-leaving, cousin-fucking goatfucker.
Speaking of, he stole the radio less than half a block away from the intersection where Coppy McGoatfucker and his Chicago Police Department goatfucker buddies hold regular fundraising stings where they approach cars en masse, wave them over to the side of the road and lean in the windows looking for reasons to issue tickets. Which is why he didn't get caught. Because driving while listening to Delilah is a far worse offense than stealing car radios.
But the joke's on your buddy, because the boyfriend was listening to Delilah when he last turned off his car. I'm not proud of this fact, but that stolen radio is forever tainted with the stink of stupidity and emotional desperation all wrapped up in a ballad by Air Supply. So your PIN-number-saying, list-making, stuff-stealing, goat-fucking friend won't get anything but heartache when he tries to sell it on the black market.
Who's calling Delilah now?