http://www.nbc5.com/news/17338235/detail.html
All six of the protesters were fined $2,600 and sentenced to one year probation plus 30 days community service.
Part of me wishes that these jokers got some actual jail time for their offense, but there's another part of me that's smugly glad.
These self-righteous know-all protesters actually seek some sort of martyrdom for their cause, whether they actually want to stop injustice or just wreak havoc as these jerks did. Jail time would have been a sort of martyrdom for them. Then, their few friends could say, "Oh, look how the big bad government and the big bad church have made our brothers suffer. We can't stand for this!"
Instead, five of the six protesters had to beg for extra time to pay off their fines. Hope you saved up all that money from your summer jobs and your pathetic theater gigs, kids. Wait! You didn't, and had to beg the system you despise so very much for more time.
You know what else is great? That you came off like weak-willed weasels when all your pathetic backers kept demanding mercy from the church and the government. So, let me get this straight. These hacks were willing to go wreak havoc but were not willing to pay a price?
Some martyrs they are. Maybe they should have gone the Thích Quảng Đức route. That'll show 'em.
Good luck with your community service, kids. Hope no one throws anything at ya while you're picking trash off the Eisenhower.
29 August 2008
27 August 2008
Lunch at the Firing Range
Sometimes you can be reminded that you are in a unique job, and even if you no longer want to work there you still can point to the cool things about the place of employment.
My employer decided to have a 'sales event' wherein he invited several, er, like minded individuals and we all went out for lunch, then convened... on a firing range. Yes.
The last time I fired a weapon I was in college, and that was one day. The last time I fired a weapon with any regularity was 24 years ago, same weapon- .22 rifle.
There were eight of us. Half of the individuals involved brought their weapons, and we dropped an hour target shooting. I was able to fire three different types of pistols- a .357 revolver, a .45 semi-automatic, and a smaller-caliber semi-automatic that was arguably the best weapon to fire.
I can hear the peanut gallery now. No. No one is dead as a result of me stepping to the firing line.
There was significant muzzle flash from the .357, but I preferred to shoot it. The semi-automatics were less accurate, or at least I found them to be. And the ejected shells from the semi-autos rained like heavy brass confetti. One of the party was a former pistol instructor, so I got a freebie instruction from a pro on how to fire. Not surprisingly, I did fairly well the first time out as a result.
Afterwards, I contemplated doing that as a hobby. It has a high introductory cost: the weapon itself is at least hundreds, the license, and the schooling (because I won't own a weapon without being fully aware of how to maintain it). But once past that, you're really only paying for ammunition and cleaning supplies.
One thing's for sure- shooting firearms is not for the jittery. It didn't give me the "sense of power" that it gives alot of people, but then I wasn't shooting to destroy. I was shooting for accuracy. And it was muy fun.
My employer decided to have a 'sales event' wherein he invited several, er, like minded individuals and we all went out for lunch, then convened... on a firing range. Yes.
The last time I fired a weapon I was in college, and that was one day. The last time I fired a weapon with any regularity was 24 years ago, same weapon- .22 rifle.
There were eight of us. Half of the individuals involved brought their weapons, and we dropped an hour target shooting. I was able to fire three different types of pistols- a .357 revolver, a .45 semi-automatic, and a smaller-caliber semi-automatic that was arguably the best weapon to fire.
I can hear the peanut gallery now. No. No one is dead as a result of me stepping to the firing line.
There was significant muzzle flash from the .357, but I preferred to shoot it. The semi-automatics were less accurate, or at least I found them to be. And the ejected shells from the semi-autos rained like heavy brass confetti. One of the party was a former pistol instructor, so I got a freebie instruction from a pro on how to fire. Not surprisingly, I did fairly well the first time out as a result.
Afterwards, I contemplated doing that as a hobby. It has a high introductory cost: the weapon itself is at least hundreds, the license, and the schooling (because I won't own a weapon without being fully aware of how to maintain it). But once past that, you're really only paying for ammunition and cleaning supplies.
One thing's for sure- shooting firearms is not for the jittery. It didn't give me the "sense of power" that it gives alot of people, but then I wasn't shooting to destroy. I was shooting for accuracy. And it was muy fun.
26 August 2008
Chicago's long nightmare is over
http://www.chicagotribune.com/business/chi-080826mariotti-resigns,0,1339701.story
Jay Mariotti, long-time coward and general blemish to humanity, resigned from the Chicago Sun Times this evening.
I've disliked this douchebag for a long time. His hypocrisy, cowardice and blatant plagiarism have long plagued Chicago sports journalism.
Essentially, this guy's shtick was to be a complete contrarian, even if it meant angering a lot of folks. That in itself isn't so bad. But his complete refusal to even confront the folks he wrote about in person took away from his severely limited credibility.
You can't have much "courage of conviction" if you don't have the courage to face the people you criticize.
To me, the difference between journalists and folks like us lowly bloggers is the amount of access you have. Any no-talent hack can copy and paste AP quotes and steal stuff from a beat writer. Hell, Deadspin does that all the time, and I like Deadspin.
Mariotti, allegedly, is a journalist. To have the amount of access he did and not actually interview folks either by phone or face to face is a disservice to journalism.
Hell, even on the rare occasions he did interview someone, he made himself the focus of the story. Oh, look at Jay and what a courageous individual he is.
Mariotti had more feuds with colleagues and local athletes than a gangster rapper typically has over an entire career. He got run out of Denver for calling John Elway a "greedy, scared punk." Of course, there's his beefs with Ozzie Guillen, Ken Harrelson and Jerry Reinsdorf. More recently, he accused his former Sun Times colleagues of being soft.
Funny, considering they actually spoke to the people they wrote about from time to time.
To my fellow Chicago sports fans, I raise a toast with you tonight. Good bye and good riddance to the city's long nightmare. May what passed for Mariotti's career rest in pieces.
Jay Mariotti, long-time coward and general blemish to humanity, resigned from the Chicago Sun Times this evening.
I've disliked this douchebag for a long time. His hypocrisy, cowardice and blatant plagiarism have long plagued Chicago sports journalism.
Essentially, this guy's shtick was to be a complete contrarian, even if it meant angering a lot of folks. That in itself isn't so bad. But his complete refusal to even confront the folks he wrote about in person took away from his severely limited credibility.
You can't have much "courage of conviction" if you don't have the courage to face the people you criticize.
To me, the difference between journalists and folks like us lowly bloggers is the amount of access you have. Any no-talent hack can copy and paste AP quotes and steal stuff from a beat writer. Hell, Deadspin does that all the time, and I like Deadspin.
Mariotti, allegedly, is a journalist. To have the amount of access he did and not actually interview folks either by phone or face to face is a disservice to journalism.
Hell, even on the rare occasions he did interview someone, he made himself the focus of the story. Oh, look at Jay and what a courageous individual he is.
Mariotti had more feuds with colleagues and local athletes than a gangster rapper typically has over an entire career. He got run out of Denver for calling John Elway a "greedy, scared punk." Of course, there's his beefs with Ozzie Guillen, Ken Harrelson and Jerry Reinsdorf. More recently, he accused his former Sun Times colleagues of being soft.
Funny, considering they actually spoke to the people they wrote about from time to time.
To my fellow Chicago sports fans, I raise a toast with you tonight. Good bye and good riddance to the city's long nightmare. May what passed for Mariotti's career rest in pieces.
The Bunny Chronicles: Takin' it back
It's been over a week since I returned from my too-short vacation, and still, the rotten little beast has found new ways to either amuse me or tick me off.
I returned home on the 17th in the early evening. While on vacation, my sister texted me, regaling me with tales of the beast's cuteness. My mom went with my sister to my apartment to take care of the beast when I wasn't there. One of the rabbit's new tricks is to rest on my slippers when I'm not wearing them. Of course, my mom and sister saw this and immediately thought this was the cutest thing they'd ever seen. "Oh, she misses you!" my sister said.
If she only knew.
So, yeah. I got in the door, luggage in hand. First thing the beast does? She grabs her food dish with her teeth and throws it on the floor of the cage, dumping all her food there.
Great.
So, in my limited wisdom, I thought, "Hey, she can't spill the food dish if she doesn't have a food dish." So, I removed the food dish from her cage, opting instead to leave her pellet food on a plastic cage shelf thing. This still allowed her to eat the pellets, but she had no dish to throw around anymore.
I thought I'd solved the rabbit food waste problem.
Once again, I was wrong.
A few days ago, I'd noticed there was a large amount of pellet food on the floor just outside her cage. "How did that get there?" I wondered.
That question was answered yesterday. After work, I looked in her cage and saw she'd hopped onto the shelf. While hopping up there, she'd managed to knock a lot of food out of the cage, onto the floor.
Can't win for losin'.
Also last week, I let the rabbit out of her cage for a short time one morning. She made a beeline for the same section of stereo wire she'd previously destroyed, gnawing through it lickety-split. She hopped away as soon as she noticed that I saw her.
At least now I know how to fix stereo wire somewhat quickly.
Rotten little beast.
I returned home on the 17th in the early evening. While on vacation, my sister texted me, regaling me with tales of the beast's cuteness. My mom went with my sister to my apartment to take care of the beast when I wasn't there. One of the rabbit's new tricks is to rest on my slippers when I'm not wearing them. Of course, my mom and sister saw this and immediately thought this was the cutest thing they'd ever seen. "Oh, she misses you!" my sister said.
If she only knew.
So, yeah. I got in the door, luggage in hand. First thing the beast does? She grabs her food dish with her teeth and throws it on the floor of the cage, dumping all her food there.
Great.
So, in my limited wisdom, I thought, "Hey, she can't spill the food dish if she doesn't have a food dish." So, I removed the food dish from her cage, opting instead to leave her pellet food on a plastic cage shelf thing. This still allowed her to eat the pellets, but she had no dish to throw around anymore.
I thought I'd solved the rabbit food waste problem.
Once again, I was wrong.
A few days ago, I'd noticed there was a large amount of pellet food on the floor just outside her cage. "How did that get there?" I wondered.
That question was answered yesterday. After work, I looked in her cage and saw she'd hopped onto the shelf. While hopping up there, she'd managed to knock a lot of food out of the cage, onto the floor.
Can't win for losin'.
Also last week, I let the rabbit out of her cage for a short time one morning. She made a beeline for the same section of stereo wire she'd previously destroyed, gnawing through it lickety-split. She hopped away as soon as she noticed that I saw her.
At least now I know how to fix stereo wire somewhat quickly.
Rotten little beast.
22 August 2008
Gamers Taking it on the Chin for Humor
Please read below for Bill's review of the IL justice system's gradual release of the sub-human things that protested to disrupt an Easter mass.
Being a fan of D&D, Fantasy Football, and neutral on Obama, I've been pointed to, well, some snarky opinions from those without.
http://www.prospect.org/csnc/blogs/tapped_archive?month=08&year=2008&base_name=_protesting_too_much
http://graphjam.com/2008/08/20/song-chart-memes-before-they-were-fantasy-football-commissioners/
Being a fan of D&D, Fantasy Football, and neutral on Obama, I've been pointed to, well, some snarky opinions from those without.
http://www.prospect.org/csnc/blogs/tapped_archive?month=08&year=2008&base_name=_protesting_too_much
http://graphjam.com/2008/08/20/song-chart-memes-before-they-were-fantasy-football-commissioners/
21 August 2008
Newton's third law as it relates to anarchist nutjobs
http://www.wbbm780.com/Holy-Name-Protesters-Given-Extra-Time-to-Pay-Fines/2822353
About five months ago, these so-called Catholic Schoolgirls took it upon themselves to protest the Iraq war at Easter mass at Holy Name Cathedral in Chicago.
Thankfully, these weasels were not able to worm their way completely out of legal problems. Seems they've plead guilty to misdemeanor charges and agreed to pay a fine. They're supposed to be sentenced a week from now.
Shockingly, they haven't been able to raise the money necessary to pay the fines. I suppose when you attack an institution that was already publicly against the Iraq war, that could cost you some friends.
I'm not a good Catholic. At all. Don't pray much.
So, tonight I pray: Dear God, please do not let these little leftwing bitches get out of the trouble they've brought upon themselves. Please let them truly know the meaning of your son's words, "Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's." And render unto them a nice, big inmate at 26th and California who needs a Catholic schoolgirl for release.
All in thy name.
Amen.
About five months ago, these so-called Catholic Schoolgirls took it upon themselves to protest the Iraq war at Easter mass at Holy Name Cathedral in Chicago.
Thankfully, these weasels were not able to worm their way completely out of legal problems. Seems they've plead guilty to misdemeanor charges and agreed to pay a fine. They're supposed to be sentenced a week from now.
Shockingly, they haven't been able to raise the money necessary to pay the fines. I suppose when you attack an institution that was already publicly against the Iraq war, that could cost you some friends.
I'm not a good Catholic. At all. Don't pray much.
So, tonight I pray: Dear God, please do not let these little leftwing bitches get out of the trouble they've brought upon themselves. Please let them truly know the meaning of your son's words, "Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's." And render unto them a nice, big inmate at 26th and California who needs a Catholic schoolgirl for release.
All in thy name.
Amen.
13 August 2008
The Bunny Chronicles: A Guest Column
Bill is away at GenCon, and since I have little of interest to write about, I decided I'd guest write an episode of the bunny chronicles without his permission. I'm uniquely qualified to do this for two reasons: 1) I like rabbits, 2) I hate Bill. So with no ado about this, here we go.
-------------------------------------
A couple of days ago, I left the bunny and selfishly went to a stupid gaming convention. It wasn't the responsible or even the smart decision, but I am generally a masochist and so, oddly, I looked forward to the abuse and suffering I would endure upon my return.
The beast waited patiently for me, and behaved for everyone that took care of it. I couldn't be more relieved. I figure that if the bunny truly had a deep wellspring of hate, I would be noble and prevent others from seeing it. But the beast is cunning.
I spent more money than I had saved at the convention. Since I no longer have a credit rating and my car was repossessed, I was forced to turn tricks to earn cash for my swag. That I didn't shower was not a problem because at gaming conventions most of my clients don't shower, either. But I'm not hooked on anything, its not like that. I just needed 5 bucks for that Yu-Gi-Oh card with the mostly naked babe in battle with the tentacle monster. The point is I had alot of swag, and I intended most of it to be destroyed by the beast.
The beast was all too happy to oblige. When I had opened the door on my return the bunny had shaken open her cage and ran straight to me. Thinking it missed me, I bent down to catch it, or at least stop it. Instead, it went straight for my swag. I was beside myself. After all, even though I knew it's exactly what would happen I didn't expect the rabbit to ignore me. But then most people ignore me so I shouldn't really be surprised.
I bent down to grab the beast, hoping to save some of the swag for later destruction. The bunny saw the opening went I leaned to get her and ran right through my legs, out into the hall and stopped. When I mumbled about how clever the bunny was, she bolted again for the stairwell. I could have sworn it flipped me the bird. I tried to find it, but it was gone. I was so distraught that I finished the bottle of Mad Dog I had in my fridge, and went to sleep crying.
When I woke up the next morning, the bunny was in the cage again, hanging off the wire and screaming bunny obscenities and thrusting bunny poop onto my carpet.
I love my rotten little beast.
-------------------------------------
A couple of days ago, I left the bunny and selfishly went to a stupid gaming convention. It wasn't the responsible or even the smart decision, but I am generally a masochist and so, oddly, I looked forward to the abuse and suffering I would endure upon my return.
The beast waited patiently for me, and behaved for everyone that took care of it. I couldn't be more relieved. I figure that if the bunny truly had a deep wellspring of hate, I would be noble and prevent others from seeing it. But the beast is cunning.
I spent more money than I had saved at the convention. Since I no longer have a credit rating and my car was repossessed, I was forced to turn tricks to earn cash for my swag. That I didn't shower was not a problem because at gaming conventions most of my clients don't shower, either. But I'm not hooked on anything, its not like that. I just needed 5 bucks for that Yu-Gi-Oh card with the mostly naked babe in battle with the tentacle monster. The point is I had alot of swag, and I intended most of it to be destroyed by the beast.
The beast was all too happy to oblige. When I had opened the door on my return the bunny had shaken open her cage and ran straight to me. Thinking it missed me, I bent down to catch it, or at least stop it. Instead, it went straight for my swag. I was beside myself. After all, even though I knew it's exactly what would happen I didn't expect the rabbit to ignore me. But then most people ignore me so I shouldn't really be surprised.
I bent down to grab the beast, hoping to save some of the swag for later destruction. The bunny saw the opening went I leaned to get her and ran right through my legs, out into the hall and stopped. When I mumbled about how clever the bunny was, she bolted again for the stairwell. I could have sworn it flipped me the bird. I tried to find it, but it was gone. I was so distraught that I finished the bottle of Mad Dog I had in my fridge, and went to sleep crying.
When I woke up the next morning, the bunny was in the cage again, hanging off the wire and screaming bunny obscenities and thrusting bunny poop onto my carpet.
I love my rotten little beast.
11 August 2008
The bunny chronicles: Adventures in Bunnysitting
On Wednesday morning, I leave for GenCon, something I like to call the most wonderful time of the year.
Begrudgingly, I had to find someone take care of the rotten little beast while I'm in Indianapolis. If nothing else, continued feeding of the rabbit will ensure a better stew later.
My sister agreed to come over for two days while I'm out of town. So, early yesterday morning, she visited the apartment to experience the rotten little beast first hand.
Luckily, the beast was in true rotten form.
She hopped out of the cage and investigated a bit, wondering who the new person was. Then she bolted under the bed when my sister tried to pet her.
This presented a good chance for me to demonstrate how to get her back in the cage. I moved the bed back and forth several times, and eventually the beast emerged. Instead of returning to the cage, the beast decided to run a victory lap around the apartment, and then went back under the bed.
This greatly entertained my sister, who then started using the same curse words I've used since taking ownership of the beast.
Finally, we managed to corner the beast and steer her back into the cage.
Thankfully, my sister knows of the rabbit's escape exploits, and has learned how necessary it is to secure the cage.
Soon, soon, I'll have a vacation from the rabbit. With my luck, she'll chew through the cage and destroy everything in the apartment.
Rotten little beast.
Begrudgingly, I had to find someone take care of the rotten little beast while I'm in Indianapolis. If nothing else, continued feeding of the rabbit will ensure a better stew later.
My sister agreed to come over for two days while I'm out of town. So, early yesterday morning, she visited the apartment to experience the rotten little beast first hand.
Luckily, the beast was in true rotten form.
She hopped out of the cage and investigated a bit, wondering who the new person was. Then she bolted under the bed when my sister tried to pet her.
This presented a good chance for me to demonstrate how to get her back in the cage. I moved the bed back and forth several times, and eventually the beast emerged. Instead of returning to the cage, the beast decided to run a victory lap around the apartment, and then went back under the bed.
This greatly entertained my sister, who then started using the same curse words I've used since taking ownership of the beast.
Finally, we managed to corner the beast and steer her back into the cage.
Thankfully, my sister knows of the rabbit's escape exploits, and has learned how necessary it is to secure the cage.
Soon, soon, I'll have a vacation from the rabbit. With my luck, she'll chew through the cage and destroy everything in the apartment.
Rotten little beast.
06 August 2008
Flame Out
Have you ever been flying and had your engine flame out within 5 minutes following takeoff? I have.
http://www.nbcactionnews.com/news/local/story.aspx?content_id=c50c4bd9-4651-4eab-9a07-f242cb0c6928&rss=764
http://www.thedenverchannel.com/news/17083436/detail.html?rss=den&psp=news
I can say that I felt an unsettling shake in the plane. My first reaction was that it was one of three things: the flaps, the landing gear, or the engine. When it did, the main lights in the cabin went out and the plane stopped shaking. There was an eerie silence. The passengers on the faulty engine's side of the plane were all glued to their windows, so I saw nothing.
Eventually, one person pressed the call button. Another followed, then another.
In two minutes that felt like an eternity, the passenger started to grow restless. No one knew what had happened, what was happening. The cockpit audio channel had been shut off. The guy sitting next to me wondered out loud if we were in trouble.
I cannot say that I saw fire or smoke. The windows were covered with people trying to see the engine. We could make out that we were turning, slowly, in one direction. I knew that the plane was capable of operating with one engine (and was), so I wasn't really worried. Nevertheless, every second that went by with no word increased the tension.
Finally, after a few minutes, the pilot came on and told us there was a problem with the engine that we were going back to KC. The purser on the flight then gave a comical (darkly comical) announcement about how everything was fine because the captain said so. So we're fine. 'Cuz he said so. She was serious; I found it funny that she was nervous and trying very poorly to hide it.
Anyway, we made it on the ground okay, to see fire trucks and the like. The captain said "don't worry about them, that's just part of procedure- there's no fire." Some people claimed they smelled smoke, but it couldn't be smoke from the wing engine smelled inside the cabin. Occassionally I smell a little combustion smell at the start of the air system, but I know that's not smoke.
Everything ended up fine, just costing us almost an extra day to get home and me an additional vacation day.
The experience was... interesting.
http://www.nbcactionnews.com/news/local/story.aspx?content_id=c50c4bd9-4651-4eab-9a07-f242cb0c6928&rss=764
http://www.thedenverchannel.com/news/17083436/detail.html?rss=den&psp=news
I can say that I felt an unsettling shake in the plane. My first reaction was that it was one of three things: the flaps, the landing gear, or the engine. When it did, the main lights in the cabin went out and the plane stopped shaking. There was an eerie silence. The passengers on the faulty engine's side of the plane were all glued to their windows, so I saw nothing.
Eventually, one person pressed the call button. Another followed, then another.
In two minutes that felt like an eternity, the passenger started to grow restless. No one knew what had happened, what was happening. The cockpit audio channel had been shut off. The guy sitting next to me wondered out loud if we were in trouble.
I cannot say that I saw fire or smoke. The windows were covered with people trying to see the engine. We could make out that we were turning, slowly, in one direction. I knew that the plane was capable of operating with one engine (and was), so I wasn't really worried. Nevertheless, every second that went by with no word increased the tension.
Finally, after a few minutes, the pilot came on and told us there was a problem with the engine that we were going back to KC. The purser on the flight then gave a comical (darkly comical) announcement about how everything was fine because the captain said so. So we're fine. 'Cuz he said so. She was serious; I found it funny that she was nervous and trying very poorly to hide it.
Anyway, we made it on the ground okay, to see fire trucks and the like. The captain said "don't worry about them, that's just part of procedure- there's no fire." Some people claimed they smelled smoke, but it couldn't be smoke from the wing engine smelled inside the cabin. Occassionally I smell a little combustion smell at the start of the air system, but I know that's not smoke.
Everything ended up fine, just costing us almost an extra day to get home and me an additional vacation day.
The experience was... interesting.
03 August 2008
The bunny chronicles: cell phone charger, stereo wire and a prison break
One of the things I learned the hard way with this rabbit is to never, ever, ever let her get near any wires unsupervised. She can chew through them very quickly.
I discovered this about 12 days ago. After getting out of her cage, she hopped near a table with my cell phone charger and a stereo speaker on it. Both had wire either plugged in or otherwise within biting range.
A short time later, I went looking for her. I noticed several small, thin pieces of black cord on the floor. I looked at the beast, and I swear she knew she was in trouble. I looked at that cord, then at my cell phone charger, realizing she'd destroyed it. A few yelled curse words later, and the damn thing darted under my bed.
She didn't get out of the cage for a while after that.
A short time later, I found out she chewed through stereo wire connecting to one of my speakers.
The cell phone charger was a total loss, so I ordered a new one online.
I was able to fix the speaker wire by stripping the ends the beast chewed through. I twisted the wire ends together and secured it with electrical tape.
After this, I found any loose wires in my apartment and wrapped them up, either using rubber bands or twist ties. This seems to have deterred the beast in her quest for destruction.
More recently, while the beast was out and about, I offered her a small piece of cardboard. She plays with it like it's the best thing she ever had. She gnaws on it happily and tosses it about her cage.
Go figure.
Before leaving for work last night, I let the beast out of her cage again. We have something of a routine now: she hops around for a bit, goes somewhere she knows she'll cause trouble, then darts under the bed to get away from me. When I want her to go back in the cage, I'll move the bed back and forth until she goes to her cage.
I could swear I closed the cage door after she went back.
The reason I mention this is because she chews on the cage bars. She props herself up on her hind legs, latches onto the cage door with her front paws, and shakes the cage.
So, I got ready for work, then I look and see her cage door open. I could swear I closed it.
Naturally, the beast went under my bed again. So, I again chased her back into the cage.
This time, I secured the cage door with some twist ties. For added measure, I propped my toolbox up against the door.
I really think she got out on her own. She's plotting her escape and my destruction even now, as I type this from work.
Rotten little beast.
I discovered this about 12 days ago. After getting out of her cage, she hopped near a table with my cell phone charger and a stereo speaker on it. Both had wire either plugged in or otherwise within biting range.
A short time later, I went looking for her. I noticed several small, thin pieces of black cord on the floor. I looked at the beast, and I swear she knew she was in trouble. I looked at that cord, then at my cell phone charger, realizing she'd destroyed it. A few yelled curse words later, and the damn thing darted under my bed.
She didn't get out of the cage for a while after that.
A short time later, I found out she chewed through stereo wire connecting to one of my speakers.
The cell phone charger was a total loss, so I ordered a new one online.
I was able to fix the speaker wire by stripping the ends the beast chewed through. I twisted the wire ends together and secured it with electrical tape.
After this, I found any loose wires in my apartment and wrapped them up, either using rubber bands or twist ties. This seems to have deterred the beast in her quest for destruction.
More recently, while the beast was out and about, I offered her a small piece of cardboard. She plays with it like it's the best thing she ever had. She gnaws on it happily and tosses it about her cage.
Go figure.
Before leaving for work last night, I let the beast out of her cage again. We have something of a routine now: she hops around for a bit, goes somewhere she knows she'll cause trouble, then darts under the bed to get away from me. When I want her to go back in the cage, I'll move the bed back and forth until she goes to her cage.
I could swear I closed the cage door after she went back.
The reason I mention this is because she chews on the cage bars. She props herself up on her hind legs, latches onto the cage door with her front paws, and shakes the cage.
So, I got ready for work, then I look and see her cage door open. I could swear I closed it.
Naturally, the beast went under my bed again. So, I again chased her back into the cage.
This time, I secured the cage door with some twist ties. For added measure, I propped my toolbox up against the door.
I really think she got out on her own. She's plotting her escape and my destruction even now, as I type this from work.
Rotten little beast.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)