@Churba: I understand that your tea was irreplaceable. I can see why you are angry. But I concur with Loganator. Besides, teaching her a lesson as Lady MacRoss implied is not a good idea. Revenge, no matter how mild, rarely does anyone any good.
It is easy to see why I'm angry. However, I disagree with you on one point - Teaching her a lesson is a good idea, however, I must not forget the line between a lesson, and revenge.
When you rub a puppy's nose in the spot where it peed on the carpet, that's a lesson, it learns, and stops peeing on the carpet. When you kick the shit out of it a few hours later, because you're mad about it peeing on the carpet, that's revenge, and it learns nothing.
At this point, all I can do is explain it to her, and warn her not to do it again, and lay down the firm directive to have respect for other people's things. To take action is to take revenge, and no lesson would be learned, thus making all damages incurred pointless as little more than making one feel better, and probably encouraging her to do that sort of thing again in future, out of spite.
When you rub a puppy's nose in the spot where it peed on the carpet, that's a lesson, it learns, and stops peeing on the carpet. When you kick the shit out of it a few hours later, because you're mad about it peeing on the carpet, that's revenge, and it learns nothing.
This is what I was referring to:
Preferably something that will taste terrible and/or make her slightly ill.
It's one thing to teach a lesson, it is another to make one ill, regardless of the severity. That, in my view, is an act of violence.
I don't understand why anyone would even bother going to an unaccredited college.
Fail of my day: Still haven't found an acceptable tobacco shop in Rochester. One would assume that a city with such a high percentage of smokers would have at least one downtown. I guess all these people smoke shitty, corporate, tar-filled, mass produced crap.
On the other hand, I met trogdor at RIT last week. I can vouch that he's a pretty cool dude. Cool enough to rescue the President? Possibly.
Severe Fail of My Day: ...I may have gotten into the wrong major. I'm not a math major, but Calculus and Accounting are making me so fucking depressed.
Severe Fail of My Day: ...I may have gotten into the wrong major. I'm not a math major, but Calculus and Accounting are making me so fucking depressed.
What year are you? At my school, at least, we can change majors until the end of sophomore year.
My lungs have decided their job is boring and they'd rather play on the internet all day. This is preventing me from getting adequate oxygen. If they weren't essential to my functionality, I'd fire them. Lazy bastards.
I had no idea I can't look at the page a see that it is spelled Morio-kun because I iz stupid,Mario-Kun.
Oh, yeah, look at that. To be honest I never actually bothered to read your name properly.
Anyway, the fail of my day is goats. Stubborn, smelly, dirty, mean, unwieldy goats, and the fact that I have to take care of them for several hours a day. By the end of the day I'm covered in hay and sweat, my ankles are soaked with water and milk, my wrists are smeared with fly guts, my boots are caked with shit, and I smell like mixture of Goat Diarrhea and Buck In Heat. I really don't understand why people romanticize farm life.
Anyway, the fail of my day is goats. Stubborn, smelly, dirty, mean, unwieldy goats, and the fact that I have to take care of them for several hours a day. By the end of the day I'm covered in hay and sweat, my ankles are soaked with water and milk, my wrists are smeared with fly guts, my boots are caked with shit, and I smell like mixture of Goat Diarrhea and Buck In Heat. I really don't understand why people romanticize farm life.
I'm honestly kinda frightened of goats. The fact that you handle them for your job impresses me. Plus, the smell. Ew.
I'm honestly kinda frightened of goats. The fact that you handle them for your job impresses me.
It wasn't so bad when I was working with twelve relatively sedate goats at a time, but we recently took on twenty four more, very high strung ones. They are some strong motherfuckers on their own, and once the herd mentality kicks in they become very difficult to work with. To illustrate this, there's a gate on one of the pens, and next to that gate is about four feet of fence which is secured to a wooden wall via several staples (the big kind). Sure, it could be sturdier, but It served us for years before and held up under everything the other animals threw at it. A couple weeks ago, when I took too long opening their gate, the new goats all pushed against this fence, broke right through it, and stampeded past me. If you imagine trying to separate 32 200-pound 2-year-olds into groups of 6 and then forcing them to sit still for ten minutes, without fighting or going after eachother's food, you've got a pretty good idea of what milking a herd of goats is like.
I just found out my sister has swine flu. I'm actually going home this weekend, and I was hoping to spend some time with her or at least SEE her, because I go to school an hour and a half away and don't go home much. Looks like I have to wait another month or more before I'll have another chance to see her.
Comments
When you rub a puppy's nose in the spot where it peed on the carpet, that's a lesson, it learns, and stops peeing on the carpet. When you kick the shit out of it a few hours later, because you're mad about it peeing on the carpet, that's revenge, and it learns nothing.
At this point, all I can do is explain it to her, and warn her not to do it again, and lay down the firm directive to have respect for other people's things. To take action is to take revenge, and no lesson would be learned, thus making all damages incurred pointless as little more than making one feel better, and probably encouraging her to do that sort of thing again in future, out of spite.
Fail of my day: Still haven't found an acceptable tobacco shop in Rochester. One would assume that a city with such a high percentage of smokers would have at least one downtown. I guess all these people smoke shitty, corporate, tar-filled, mass produced crap.
On the other hand, I met trogdor at RIT last week. I can vouch that he's a pretty cool dude. Cool enough to rescue the President? Possibly.
(
8========>
take that
Anyway, the fail of my day is goats. Stubborn, smelly, dirty, mean, unwieldy goats, and the fact that I have to take care of them for several hours a day. By the end of the day I'm covered in hay and sweat, my ankles are soaked with water and milk, my wrists are smeared with fly guts, my boots are caked with shit, and I smell like mixture of Goat Diarrhea and Buck In Heat. I really don't understand why people romanticize farm life.