So, it’s late afternoon on a nice autumn day and I walk in to the den to find the disgusting creature inside the house! At first I thought it was a bird but quickly realized it was a bat. It was fluttering around rapidly in sickening chaotic circles. Ironically, my little daughter was hanging upside down from a big cushy chair completely unaware that she was mimicking this rat with wing’s posture in a less frantic moment. That’s when I got my green tennis racket.brbrIt was over quickly. A simple back hand volley, which was really more defensive than aggressive, and the sonar guided vermin hit the rug with satisfying little thud. Amazingly my daughter seemed unaware of what had just gone down. It did happen quickly. So I gathered the little bugger, making sure I didn’t touch it, in two plastic shopping bags. Felt slightly repulsed as I examined it but had a little adrenaline buzz going as well. Tossed it in the trash can outside. Considered my racket strings briefly like a tennis pro and showing no bat gore I put it back in the garage.brbrLater that night I posted the story about my inadvertent hunt slay on Facebook. Did I think I was a hero? Could I have thought this would be of the slightest interest to anyone?brbrI’ll just note that nothing ever good seems to happen when I post on FB,a href=”http://www.highdesertrendezvous.org”christian louboutin outlet sale/a. My comments are interpreted as being sarcastic and photo’s that I think are beautiful or fascinating just sit there sadly adorned with zero comments and no “likes”. Quite often someone ends up mad at me or I inevitably feel slighted or rejected. I figured this out fairly quickly after joining FB and my general policy is DO NOT POST.brbrFor me, FB is a way to keep up with a few friends who may live far away and to gather a little information on pals from long ago and some acquaintances too. If I’m honest, the part of FB I love is the ability to be completely annoyed (and fixated) on the inane and self absorbed comments by certain folks. I admit that I like to psycho analyze, however ineptly, someone I didn’t even care for when we actually knew each other. Obviously, there’s no shortage of material for me focus upon. Talk about cheap entertainment! Nothing like it!brbrWith the bat story I suppose I figured it was a semi unique tale with a little action and a happy ending. In retrospect I probably was still buzzing about killing the little snapper so adeptly and that may have influenced my thinking.brbrI posted it late at night and by morning I had several comments. Unfortunately not one of them was focused on what a bad ass bat killer I was. In fact, they all said the same thing. That I need to call the Health Department immediately,a href=”http://www.wimhe.org”red bottom loafers/a, report the incident and get the bat checked out to see if it was rabid. This post was turning into a real life pain in the ass.brbrI resisted, I complained, I whined but the consensus was that because my young daughter was alone with the bat that she may not be able to report accurately whether she was bitten. My wife and I, of course, examined her and saw nothing. And, I have a feeling that had she been bitten by this creature she would have let us know somehow. Anyway, after calling the Health Department the main issue was whether the bat, now ripening in the garbage for about 12 hours, had decomposed to the extent that the sample was ruined. I retrieved the disgusting tiny corpse and put it in the freezer to await pick up from the Health Department.brbrLong story short, it all worked out. Sample usable and, as it turns out, non rabid. All good. However,a href=”http://www.highdesertrendezvous.org”louboutin outlet/a, had I not posted this not very interesting little tale we’d have been saved a few weeks of angst worrying about our little girl having to experience a series of unpleasant rabies shots. Oh, and,a href=”http://www.saltwaterranch.com”Michael Kors handbags outlet/a, generally speaking, my FB friends were critical of me for killing an innocent animal, and why didn’t I open a window, and why did I have to resort to violence and blah, blah, blah.brbrYou’d think I’d have learned not to post. The other day at work I’m wasting time on FB avoiding editing some art photo’s which just didn’t look right. I come across a post from a childhood friend that has a link to a critical article about President Obama. The article had a picture of President Obama with Jay Leno. There was one comment from a FB friend of the poster’s. It read, “The Furer and his SS followers”. I found this shocking to say the least. I think political debate, of course, is healthy but comparing The President of the United States to the worst dictator and mass murderer in generations crosses a line and is objectively wrong.brbrOnce again I recognized that posting would probably not work out. Yet, how could I refrain from doing so? I posted a concise response to the Hitler guy letting him know what I thought of his post. I noted that his incorrect spelling of “Fuhrer” only emphasized his ignorance. I hit enter and went back to work. I was sure I’d later be faced with one of those awful back and forth debates with a moronic stranger.brbrWhen I did go back later I noted, with surprise, that there was no response or comments from anyone. I admit that I did feel a slight twinge of disappointment. Then I noticed that the Nazi guy’s post had indeed changed. There was now a little note under his original comment that simply read “edited”. Then I saw it. He had read my comment but all he apparently gleaned from it was that he had made a typo in his original post. He had, yes, made a correction and changed Furer to Fuhrer!brbrThis guy was either suddenly meticulous in his hate speech or a brilliant debater because, clearly, he’d won this exchange by simply adding a single letter “h”. What was there to say after that? I experienced a new and unforeseen version of humiliation and, once again, learned the lesson DO NOT POST.Articles Connexes：
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