Why? Ass pilots!
I am sorry but I have absolutely no pity, understanding or tolerance for ass pilots who drum up misdirected feline aggression toward “da man” because some criminal gets beaten up by cops, and then go off to destroy their own cities. I don’t care what kind of rationalization gets cooked up to justify that sort of behavior. Let’s face it: there are flaming idiots who go out and commit egregious crimes. Violence happens. I don’t like those facts either, or that we humans are violent beasts, but the cure for violence generally is not cooking up more random violence and destruction to add to it. That’s sort of counterintuitive. The only sort of justifiable force is the force necessary to put a thug in his place.
Violence is more likely to happen when someone is in the process of breaking the law. I don’t care if the law breaker in question is male, female, straight, gay, trans, black, white, green or turquoise. When you break the law, you open yourself up to having the police- or even those who you are breaking the law against- beat the living shit out of you. I’m not going to start it, but if you physically involve me I will finish it. If the circumstances dictate, I may just cheer the arbiter of legitimate street justice right on along- but looting the 7-11 because you’re pissed that some thug got what was coming to him from the cops…that’s just plain stupid.
If you steal from me and I beat you senseless, you asked for it.
If you try to assault me or carjack me, and I put a .357 through your skull, (and in the proper circumstance I would not hesitate to do so) you bought and own that particular suicide-by-old-bitty.
A last resort, but if it’s you or me…it’s gonna be you.
Leave me alone, you keep your stuff, I keep mine, you keep your hands to yourself, and I have no problem with you.
Why can’t we all just get along?
In better portents, the POMC- the Precious Only Male Child- has signed a contract on a house. He has, from what I can see, done well for himself, even though I had some trepidation regarding the age of this place. The main house (it has numerous additions, upgrades and renovations) was built in 1885. I didn’t know if I was really comfortable with him buying some joint that’s 130 years old, but the basement is thick stone with a concrete floor and the foundation is solid. There are two huge full bathrooms, one upstairs and one downstairs. The joint even has a new dishwasher. The wiring, water heater, furnace, plumbing, carpets, paint and pretty much all of those kinds of things that can be big problems in old houses are new. The seller agreed to install the central air unit that goes with the furnace as part of the deal (why he did all those improvements without adding A/C is beyond me, but different strokes for different folks, I guess) so Steve-o will pretty much only have very minor things to deal with once he moves in. The first call should be to the alarm company, then to the utility companies.
Chez Steve-o is not this ornate, but almost this big.
He will need the alarm company. He does not have dogs, and even though he is armed, guns don’t help if you sleep like death. Someone could break into that place and steal him blind and he would sleep through it.
His days of waking up to the All-Catholic, all the time, channel are hopefully numbered. Now he will probably be waking up to the tune of “Boats and Hoes.”