Those fucking teenagers with their suped-up mopeds and non-mufflered mini-bikes roaring up and down the damned streets like they live in Daytona. One of those fuckers is gonna get killed and they’ll be a block full of crying mourners and candles with stuffed animals in the middle of the sidewalk and poor, poor dead motherfucker who didn’t wear a helmet and endangered himself and every other person who lives here or just wants to cross the street in what looks like a quiet residential neighborhood. No one expects death to come roaring at them on a goddamned mini-bike.
You know what? Not only do those things not have mufflers, I think them asshole kids do things to make it even louder. GET OFFA MY STREET YA HOOLIGANS!!!
ETA: Did I mention they have no respect for traffic laws? I live on a one way street and yet they roar up and down and up and down until I feel as if I must go out and by a bb gun and deal out some street justice.
We have got them too Biggirl. And they love to race back and forth from the public beach right past my house and back all Sunday afternoon.
Don’t forget that when one of these minibike riders finally bites it the crying mother will be blaming the police for not stopping her son from doing such dangerous things. At least that was how it played out here. Gratefully the kid here only got seriously hurt instead of dying.
The cops need helicopters to track them. Took our police a few months of coordinated action and video from the helicopter. With that video evidence our police were able to start seizing bikes. Got a damn storage trailer full of them.
Day 10 of my (new) neighbor’s smoke detector’s low battery chirping. Every 30 seconds. For 10 days.
Today I asked them to please change the battery and they didn’t seem to speak English very well. I’m worried they think I want them to change my battery.
Some kind of hell bug stung me as I was heading out to the vet on Friday. I thought the rose bush had snagged me. It barely hurt. It wasn’t until the dog and I were situated in the car that I even bothered to pull out the stinger (what I thought at the time was a rose thorn.)
It didn’t start itching until the next morning. The Pain arrived sometime around bedtime that day. (Bedtime - bonus.)
Now it’s infected. Pus is pouring out of it. The Pain is like a hot needle pressing into my flesh and runs all down my little finger. I’ve managed to open up a small second scratch while trying to clean all the pus out of the first one. I’m sure that will get infected no matter how much peroxide I pour on it.
No, I’m not going to the doctor. I have people coming over tomorrow. I don’t have time for this. I’m not paying holiday ER rates, either.
Every time someone suggests fire, I have to point out that ‘attempted arson’ against your primary residence is one of the rare times when you can just fucking shoot someone dead and be justified under the law in most states.
Merneith, don’t use peroxide, or not just peroxide. You want to use rubbing alcohol, too, but not until you’ve thoroughly scrubbed the area. Then use something like the Neosporin triple antibiotic with pain killer. (If you have tea tree oil, that’s also an excellent disinfectant/antibiotic/antifungal, but it’ll sting.)
Everything suggested is going to sting. Probably more than a little. Do it twice, just to be sure and watch your wrist. If you see red streaks going up your arm, it would probably be a good idea to get yourself to an emergency room. By that time, the Urgent Care center would probably just charge you a visit fee to have someone look at you and then call an ambulance.
Back to the fire…I have been hearing LOTS of discussion about some idiot who not only flew his drone over the Goodwin fire, causing all of the aircraft in the area to be forced to land, he also posted pictures on social media.
He was arrested and jailed on Saturday, which I think is about the safest option for him. If the cops could find him, so could other people, and he’s not very popular right now. The mildest thing that people I know have said is that he should be held financially responsible for any property damage that happened after the firefighting aircraft (which included all three of the water bombers in the US) were grounded.
It very possible that folks who actually did lose homes have stronger opinions, so jail is a good place for him.
Ah, Florida. The land of “palmetto bug”. What’s a palmetto bug, you ask? It’s just a cute name for cockroach. You wouldn’t want to live anywhere that’s covered knee deep in cockroaches, would you? But a palmetto bug–it sounds so cute, so friendly, so nice. Until you get to Florida and find out. Yep, those bastards are cockroaches. Huge, nasty, cockroaches than can spray their stink at you from a yard away.
To be fair, what many people call a palmetto bug isn’t actually one. It’s really the American cockroach. Big whoop. The real palmetto bug is a freaking cockroach, too!
Giant ***flying ***cockroaches. And people wonder why I don’t miss Florida.
I think so. I used to get depressed between March and October when I lived in Florida. So happy I moved to New England, where the summer has an actual end in sight. Makes it easier to deal with the humidity and heat if I know that it’ll end in eight to ten weeks.
That description sounds awful! Can you go to acute care center/walk-in clinic/doc-in-the-box? It’s a PITA, but it beats a giant painful pus-draining wound.
Yesterday i saw the doctor, and i was so depressed and just generally done that at one point i was fighting back tears. It’s ridiculous. I don’t enjoy anything anymore. Even if i should be interested, i have no energy, motivation, and i hurt.
And in a fit of stupid pique, i rebelled by having delicious dairy products. Honestly, i didn’t even think about the fancy coffee drinks being filled with milk. Which my body has recently decided it HATES with great passion. So last night i was violently reminded of my new lactose intolerance.
When you get that SunAndNotFun™ Exchange Program going, let me know. I have a friend in Hawaii who swears he’s going to snap and move to Buffalo just for some snow ‘n’ gloom, I know hardy Canucks who’d lose 20 lbs (of parkas) with some warmth in January, I’ve got family in Seattle who’d snap out of their SAD with a week of sunshine, and Florida peeps who’d kill for some dry air and cool days in the summer.
A week of house trading might save some lives, or at least some marriages.
I wanted to make frozen margaritas today, but I only have enough tequila for about 1/3 of a pitcher. :mad:
(For those of you not familiar with North Carolina, hard liquor has to be purchased at an ABC or ‘package’ store, which is conveniently closed on major holidays.)
Oops, I wasn’t very clear: I’ve lived in New Jersey the last 11 years, I escaped from San Diego 13 years ago (and, obviously, have never looked back :D)