Rob's first response: I... um... but it was just... yeah. So... yeah.
Please move somewhere else.
I replied that this was not an option. (I'm stubborn this way). He then had the following suggestions:
I would agree with your dad, with one change. Saw halfway through *only the top third or so* of rungs. Then Itchy McStealsalot won't crash to the ground until he's like 12 feet up. And be sure the cut is on the back/bottom quarter of the rung.
So, um, I did. Just three rungs up on each side, instead of 12 feet up, but I did saw partway through the rungs in several places, so if anyone tries to use the ladder they will be rudely surprised. Hah. As Willow said in one memorable Buffy episode (which Jude reminded me of last night, while I was out to dinner with him and while my apartment was being pillaged): "I owe you pain." I kind of like that sentiment at the moment.
Then I went to talk to my alderman (who, I discovered, closes his office at 1 p.m. on Fridays, the bastard -- I'll have to see if the office is open on Monday) and went to the police department to make it clear that I was paying attention to this case. They sent another team over to look at the ladder, who said they'd keep an eye on the building, suggested that I boobytrap the entrances ("Put boards with nails under the windows." "Is that even legal?" *Blank stare*) and told me more ways to secure my home ("One of you is going to have to get a dog." Excuse me?). I'm still not impressed.
But Rob is still thinking about me: "Now, the classified ad said, 'Easy access to second floor from street.' What exactly did you mean by that?"
Sigh. I at least had a bonus idea for the ladder-sawing. Tie a length of piano wire from the center of the third rung (from the bottom) to the house. Then your friend will hit the sawn rung, crash down, and potentially be sliced in half by the force of his fall. Oh, wait, you're Quaker, aren't you. Crap.
Nope, I just went to a Quaker school, and the pacifist education doesn't seem to have stuck when it comes to quelling the desire to maim people who continue breaking into my home. Sorry, Mr. Bernard.
Oh, and Newton is still thinking about me, even in the midst of his own traumas: You know it sounds like just one person doing all of this: think of all the people you know who care and worry about and love you.
The naseau should distract you for several hours.
I always said that boy should go into counselling.
Alarm gets installed tomorrow. Then comes the moat with the alligators. Or crocodiles. Whichever. Big pointy teeth.
Hmm. I wonder if Legolas does home security?
Please move somewhere else.
I replied that this was not an option. (I'm stubborn this way). He then had the following suggestions:
I would agree with your dad, with one change. Saw halfway through *only the top third or so* of rungs. Then Itchy McStealsalot won't crash to the ground until he's like 12 feet up. And be sure the cut is on the back/bottom quarter of the rung.
So, um, I did. Just three rungs up on each side, instead of 12 feet up, but I did saw partway through the rungs in several places, so if anyone tries to use the ladder they will be rudely surprised. Hah. As Willow said in one memorable Buffy episode (which Jude reminded me of last night, while I was out to dinner with him and while my apartment was being pillaged): "I owe you pain." I kind of like that sentiment at the moment.
Then I went to talk to my alderman (who, I discovered, closes his office at 1 p.m. on Fridays, the bastard -- I'll have to see if the office is open on Monday) and went to the police department to make it clear that I was paying attention to this case. They sent another team over to look at the ladder, who said they'd keep an eye on the building, suggested that I boobytrap the entrances ("Put boards with nails under the windows." "Is that even legal?" *Blank stare*) and told me more ways to secure my home ("One of you is going to have to get a dog." Excuse me?). I'm still not impressed.
But Rob is still thinking about me: "Now, the classified ad said, 'Easy access to second floor from street.' What exactly did you mean by that?"
Sigh. I at least had a bonus idea for the ladder-sawing. Tie a length of piano wire from the center of the third rung (from the bottom) to the house. Then your friend will hit the sawn rung, crash down, and potentially be sliced in half by the force of his fall. Oh, wait, you're Quaker, aren't you. Crap.
Nope, I just went to a Quaker school, and the pacifist education doesn't seem to have stuck when it comes to quelling the desire to maim people who continue breaking into my home. Sorry, Mr. Bernard.
Oh, and Newton is still thinking about me, even in the midst of his own traumas: You know it sounds like just one person doing all of this: think of all the people you know who care and worry about and love you.
The naseau should distract you for several hours.
I always said that boy should go into counselling.
Alarm gets installed tomorrow. Then comes the moat with the alligators. Or crocodiles. Whichever. Big pointy teeth.
Hmm. I wonder if Legolas does home security?
posted by SAJ at
4:50 PM
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