Rottweilers Ate My Laptop

Rottweilers. Computers. Cameras. World Domination. Not necessarily in that order.

Rottweilers.
Computers. Cameras.
World Domination.
Not necessarily in that order.

F’d-up Friday

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I’m having a tough time getting back into the rhythm of daily writing. As I’ve mentioned before, November is not the best time for me to start any kind of involved personal project.

Today was a particularly aggravating day with no chance to enjoy the unseasonably mild weather. All week, AT&T repair trucks have been working in the alley behind the house, mostly blocking our garage. It has been a real inconvenience, plus I hate to open the garage when strangers of any variety are around. The work day started early and ended late. In between, we were missing several people due to illness or minor emergencies. When I finally got home, it was to the news that one of our neighbors had his home broken into.

I know I have complained about the jagoffs in my neighborhood quite often. The neighbor whose home was broken into is not one of them. He is a very nice older gentleman who certainly did not deserve the headache. Thankfully he was not home at the time, and the only saving grace is that the scumbag criminals did not hurt his dog. Not physically, anyway. I hope she was not too traumatized by the invasion.

I put part of the blame on another neighbor who is definitely one of the jagoffs. His constant yard sales (so many as to be in violation of city ordinances, but of course since it’s not a “real” crime nothing has been done) bring around unknowns and undesirables as well as legitimate neighborhood bargain seekers. I would not be surprised if some of the unknowns were also casing out the area for easy marks.

I’ve always bought into the conventional wisdom that having a dog is a deterrent to break-ins. Now I’m not so sure. I do know that when the Rottweilers bark and growl at unknowns or unfriendlies, I won’t be making an effort to stop them any longer. This is one time that I plan to use the stereotype of killer Rottweilers for good — our good. I truly hate that I feel I have to do that.

(NaBloPoMo | November ’11: 4 of 30)

No, I don’t like baseball…

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I’ve mentioned more than once that I don’t like baseball. I make a major exception in my baseball dislike to enjoy and appreciate the Little League World Series when a team from Hawaii is playing (I would probably make an exception for a team from Illinois, but only if friends’ kids were on it or if it were from our sector). And even better, this year that team is representing the United States and playing against Japan in the big game tomorrow. Very happy and proud for the Waipio Little League team for one of the best comeback stories of the year!

However. I am truly offended by the crass comments coming across Twitter that insist on comparing the Hawaii-Japan matchup to Pearl Harbor. Yes, Pearl Harbor. How freaking inappropriate is that? I thought the Sugar Bowl revenge comments following the wins against Georgia were somewhat tasteless, but they pale in comparison to the Pearl Harbor comments.

I don’t think I’m particularly humor-impaired. But I’m sad to see there are quite a few people out there who are class-impaired.

(NaBloPoMo | August ’10: 28 of 31)

I don’t like Mondays

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I want to shoot the whole day down.

I know I risk sounding somewhat psychotic, but that’s how my morning and evening commute made me feel. The parts of the day that didn’t involve the commute were fine. Nothing to write home (or sadly, write here) about, but nothing bad either.

The commute, however, started out in my own alley with a blindingly stupid bitch (human) walking three canines (I don’t know if they were dogs or bitches) singlehandedly causing a traffic jam by my garage. The only time all day that more than two living beings were even in the alley at the same time, and she turns it into a cluster. Good going.

The Cloak of Invisibility was also spread over my car at this time, so once I finally got to the highway, I was apparently invisible to people attempting to merge into traffic. Then once I got to the parking lot, I am behind an even more blindingly stupid individual who doesn’t realize that if she moves her car up just a couple of feet, it’s still approximately where the lot attendant wants it, and then the ass end of my van won’t be blocking the sidewalk and hanging out into traffic. But, no.

The commute home was just as bad. Since the Cloak of Invisibility had not blown off the car yet, two extremely large commercial vehicles, which to my knowledge are not even permitted in the express lines of the highway, seemed blissfully unaware of my existence as they drifted much too close for comfort. It was such a relief to finally get home and see my alley completely free of any human, animal, or inanimate obstacles.

I don’t want to stay negative, but there’s been a lot of sadness lately. I just want to send out some thoughts of love and care and hope to some of my friends who have very recently gone through the losses of some special canine and feline family members. The Rainbow Bridge has just welcomed some much-loved critters and reunited some long-separated pals. It seems so unfair that such wonderful spirits can stay here with us for only such a very short time, and yet we are stuck with some humans who are not wonderful at all for many decades.

(NaBloPoMo | July ’10: 19 of 31)

What’s my (network) name

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I haven’t looked at the list of wireless network SSIDs in my neighborhood in a while, since my laptops are set up to automatically connect to either my home or work network, whichever one is available. Since I got a new laptop last week, I had another look at the wireless network names in the area while setting up.

At the risk of revealing lameness, our home network name uses the kennel name we use for our Rottweilers. Obviously, our network is properly secured, and I don’t really care if people guess whose network it is. And even if it weren’t secured, how dumb do you have to be to choose people with Rottweilers to steal from?
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Balloon Boy and other self-inflicted “emergencies”

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I was not going to bother to write about Balloon Boy because everyone else already has.

But there is something that truly bothers me about this, and all fabricated (yes, I said fabricated, as in made-up crap) and self-inflicted “emergencies.” Why should we-the-taxpayers have to bear any of the sometimes considerable costs of deploying law enforcement, search and rescue, and emergency medical teams on this type of wild goose chase?

I understand that the cavalry has to be called out, and that these incidents have to be treated as actual emergencies until proven otherwise. I believe that once they are proven to be garbage, that the instigators need to pay for the services they abused. Not us.

Also. What happens if a rescuer is injured or killed in the process of “rescuing” one of these faker jagoffs? Obviously, as the spouse of someone employed in emergency services, my mind goes straight to that awful possibility. My husband, and everyone who signs on for that type of career, whether paid or volunteer, is well aware of the risks. But if a rescuer and their family has to pay the ultimate price on behalf of a faker jagoff, how can anything ever make up for that?

(NaBloPoMo | October ’09: 16 of 31 | 75% Challenge: 238 of 274)