Cry Havoc...

...and let slip the dogs of war.

I did not know the power of these words until I saw Christopher Plummer saying them while wearing Klingon makeup and trying to blow up the Enterprise in Star Trek VI.

I think what Shakespeare was trying to say when he penned this immortal line from Julius Cæsar is "I am going to totally fucking tear the people who work at my apartment's leasing office new assholes."

I say this because I went to go get a package for Erica at 3:35 PM today and, contrary to their posted hours, the office was already closed for the day. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I'd get yelled at if I just left work early whenever I felt like it.

Since this is hardly the first time I've been fucked over by the leasing office's lax definition of "business hours", I decided long ago that I needed to write a letter. An actual, factual, made-from-dead-trees letter. So today, after coming back empty-handed, I did. On Monday I'm going to print it, sign it, and send it out to the company that owns my building.

It's not a lot, but maybe it's enough to rattle a few sabers and get me my damned packages on time.