skills for the zombie apocalypse
Oct. 8th, 2015 12:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_siobhanMe this morning, to the co-worker who is in charge of our Disaster Recovery Plan. "So your DRP almost got it's first live test today."
Her: "What do you mean?"
Me: "Somebody walked into police headquarters with a pipe bomb last night and asked if they would kindly dispose of it for him."
Her: "Oh, I heard about that on the radio this morning and I was like, ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME?"
Only in Toronto, man. It just so happens that the Toronto Police Headquarters is right across the street from the building where we work and dude showed up there exactly 30 minutes after I had left for the day. Police are now reminding the public that if you have explosives in your possession you should just call them and they will pick it up for you, no really, no trouble at all.
I feel like I should be writing more stuff in here but I think about it, think about all the things I would have to update, and then I don't. So here you go, in point form.
Renovations are going holy shit fast. Every day when I get home from work we go downstairs to see what's been accomplished and we're all, "Oh look, walls." "Floors today, cool." The major work is supposed to be done at the end of this week, leaving only the sub-contractors to finish off the fixtures, electrical and carpet.
We hung plastic around the basement stairs under the false illusion that this would stop the entire house from getting coated in a thick layer of concrete and plaster dust, ha ha ha you would almost think we were completely new at this. Prepping for work every morning is a grand experiment in making it out of the house without ruining my Serious Business clothes before I even get through the door.
My sister is in town for a couple of weeks and this weekend is Canadian Thanksgiving, so I expect my weekend to be pretty full of family stuff. This is a good thing - I like my family - but the timing is a bit awkward given the state of my environment right now.
Work is crazy busy, which is the main reason for my minimal involvement in LJ. I still like it. I gotta say, working in a place where I don't feel like I'm being primed to fail, and where every mistake doesn't get treated like a major fucking disaster... It feels nice.
It's still fucking hard to get up in the morning.
A couple of weeks ago D pointed me at an online discount for a shooting package at the Silverdale Gun Club so the four of us went on a family outing to go shoot off big guns. Guns are fucking loud. I knew this. I expected it. The sniper rifle was still so unbelievably honkin' loud that I yelled "MOTHERFUCKER!" right after pulling the trigger. Our good ol' boy instructor thought this was so hilarious he repeated it about 20 times.
The family that shoots together wears ear protection together.
They give you the shell casing from the sniper bullet as a souvenir.
Archery continues to be sooper fun. I was feeling kinda weaksauce because I just can't keep it up for the whole two hour time slot. Then in my last class I realized nobody shoots for the entire time. Everybody either takes lengthy breaks or quits early. It's only me, complete n00b, who thinks she shouldn't have to.
I have been fantasizing about setting up a target in the backyard. I just need to figure out a way to do it without either putting holes in the shed or scaring the shit out of the Metrolinx staff. I'm gonna work on that.
Her: "What do you mean?"
Me: "Somebody walked into police headquarters with a pipe bomb last night and asked if they would kindly dispose of it for him."
Her: "Oh, I heard about that on the radio this morning and I was like, ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME?"
Only in Toronto, man. It just so happens that the Toronto Police Headquarters is right across the street from the building where we work and dude showed up there exactly 30 minutes after I had left for the day. Police are now reminding the public that if you have explosives in your possession you should just call them and they will pick it up for you, no really, no trouble at all.
I feel like I should be writing more stuff in here but I think about it, think about all the things I would have to update, and then I don't. So here you go, in point form.
It's still fucking hard to get up in the morning.
The family that shoots together wears ear protection together.
They give you the shell casing from the sniper bullet as a souvenir.
I have been fantasizing about setting up a target in the backyard. I just need to figure out a way to do it without either putting holes in the shed or scaring the shit out of the Metrolinx staff. I'm gonna work on that.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-10-10 07:38 am (UTC)Why was a golfball filled with explosives? No idea.
Hands were lost.
So, what I am saying, if you decide to make explosive arrowheads: be careful. ;)