The all clear has been sounded, reports the commander.
El Rancho Pendejo is now firmly back under local control. The invaders have been repulsed, sent packing to Texas, Maryland and Tennessee.
Reached in his command bunker, which looks an awful lot like our kitchen sink, Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein took full credit for routing The Enemy.
The doughty commander of the crack 1st Feline Home Defense Regiment noted modestly that for his valor he has been offered a full scholarship to the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, the nomination of the Republican Party as its candidate for president of the United States, and full oversight of the Keystone XL pipeline, which has been repurposed to deliver a steady stream of Feline Greenies Ocean Fish Flavor Dental Treats to an undisclosed location.
Then he knocked a bowl off the counter and blamed it on the media.
Any of you early risers catch this morning’s lunar eclipse? We might have missed it had it not been for the vigilance of Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein (commander, 1st Feline Home Defense Regiment), who discerned a threat to the State brewing and roused us at 5 a.m. for a brisk inspection of the perimeter.
If I were a better photographer, or were awakened more easily (think Dracula asked to leave his coffin before sunset), I’d have had a go at a snap or two of this third Blood Moon eclipse in a series of four. Instead we just enjoyed the five-minute spectacle. Sorry ’bout that.
“Right, you lot, turn on the tap, your superior officer requires refreshment.”
Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein (commander, 1st Feline Home Defense Regiment) decided to conduct an impromptu drill at 4 a.m. and as a consequence the troops are slightly groggy despite two cups of coffee and one of tea.
So this guy walks into an Apple Store with a busted iMac and — stop me if you’ve heard this one before. …
OK, so you may not have heard this one before.
Long-suffering readers of the DogS(h)ite know that my once-trusty late-2009 iMac went sideways shortly after I “upgraded” it to Mavericks, in the process leapfrogging over Lion and Mountain Lion from Snow Leopard.
Its misbehavior gradually intensified, and unable to diagnose the problem and devise a solution I finally dragged it down to the Duke City Apple Store, where a Genius critical of my OS management advised a nuke-and-pave of the hard disk drive and another “upgrade,” this time a clean install of Yosemite.
Five days and five crashes later I returned to discuss the issue further, and this time they took the doddering old iBeast in for a full brain scan.
“You might want to crack the case and check it for schmutz,” I quipped. “We have a dog and two cats, and there’s probably enough fur in there to build a yeti.” Oh, how we chortled there at the Genius Bar, techs and customers alike. Laugh, I thought I’d die.
A few days later the telephonic discussions commenced. The Geniuses were unable to replicate my issues, and their extended evaluations, like my own basic home-mechanic checks, found no hardware issues. The iMac was running a sparkling new OS and nothing but Apple software — save for Flash, which I needed for video, and SuperDuper!, which I needed to back up the drive before service — and they, like me, were at a loss.
Hard drive? Fine. Video card? OK. Bad memory? Nope. Thermal management issues? I’ve heard about temp problems, sensors detaching from drives, fans failing. Sorry, we don’t find any hardware issues atall atall.
“Did you crack the case and have a look inside? We have pets, you know. …”
Bingo. They finally opened ‘er up and found enough dust and fur clogging the fans to assemble an earth-toned pantsuit for a plus-size crazy cat lady. It actually felt a couple pounds lighter as I carried it out of the store.
This morning the old iBeast is ticking over smoothly, which if it continues will be nice, because the 2010 Mac Mini I’ve been using since Tuesday doesn’t have the oomph to run a couple different versions of the WordPress CMS, edit words, photos and videos, and do all the other things I need to do to keep my share of the lights on here at Rancho Pendejo.
Best of all? No charge for the janitorial work. When was the last time you walked away from a mechanic of any sort with your pants up and your wallet still in its pocket? I call that service and then some.
I’ll have to inform the cats who run the Innertubes. Medals, commendations and promotions may be in order.
Mad Blog Media 