BDG's Pour Fuel on the Fire

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Ever since I insisted (eventually via a lawsuit) that the BDG's stop their noisy and illegal business operation, they have retaliated with MORE intrusive noise and invasive surveillance of MY property.

A well-meaning, kindly old dweeb recently advised me that to continue blogging about Lynda Allen is like "pouring fuel on the fire." The messenger was intending to de-escalate any hostilities perpetrated by the Three Beaches toward me, but in the real world was like telling Lord Chamberlain to placate Adolf Hitler. Everyone knows how well that appeasement strategy worked out prior to World War II erupting and sweeping the nations.

You know the old sayings:

• The night is always darkest before the dawn.
• Things usually get worse before they get better.

That is certainly the case with any attempts to communicate with, or accommodate, or ignore, Lynda Allen, Theresa Brassey, or Cornelia Green. These three assholes feed off each other and are beyond any sane or rational interpersonal skills. The only time their world view includes others is when they can impose their noxious toxic selves on the others.

At lunchtime today there was ANOTHER guy with a truck and a ladder crawling around on the BDG's property and house. Why? you ask. It appears that the paranoid pussies can't get enough of what they never get are rearranging their CCD surveillance cameras and needed a new cable strung. It was strung externally because they don't want to contaminate the sanctity of Felix's cable-crawling in the attic. (More likely, there are too many bats in that belfry already.) Where does the cable go?

New cable strung from outbuilding to... where?

Ah, there it is. A second camera mounted under the gable eaves to survey my front yard. (Right next to the first one that spies on my bedroom window.)

A second camera mounted under the BDG's eaves
to capture my front yard

This brought up a corollary question - Does this new camera affect their other two spy cameras out back? Sure enough, the camera that used to watch gophers dig tunnels in my back yard has been moved up front, where it's sure to get more "play time."

If Lyin' Lynda and her live-in lovers keep pouring evil, volatile fuels on the situation, even a small spark could... quite possibly... ignite a conflagration.

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