Rachelle and I live on the first floor of a beautiful Victorian home in the Annex district of Toronto.
There are three other apartments in the house, and as we’re still relatively new to the place, we’re not entirely sure how we get along with the other tenants. The couple downstairs complained about our dog and a party, the single man who lives upstairs will often come down and peevishly ask us to turn up the heat (we control the thermostat for the entire house, apparently) and the collection of interchangeable girls who live directly above us, well, we can’t discern a thing about them.
At any rate, we live in a densely populated area and when either Rachelle or I check the Wi-Fi status on our computers, there are typically about a dozen other ones visible. You know what I mean. They have names like, BELL902 or Dan98, stuff like that. The other day, while trying to figure out why downloading Game of Thrones was taking so long, we checked our connection speed and found that somebody had changed their Wi-Fi ID to:
YourDogBarksTooMuch.
Subtle.
It’s the sort of passive-aggressive thing that I despise.
Even though I don’t know exactly who did this, I’m now fighting back. Each day I change our Wi-Fi ID in an effort to communicate some sentiment, grievance or threat to our fellow tenants. What follows is a partial list of our ever-changing Wi-Fi ID’s:
HeidiTheDogSeeIntoYourBlackSoulAndBarkHerHate
LovesNewCrossBow
YourSexSoundsAreNauseating
YouAreAllSlutsAndYourLivesWillBeFailures
TakingUpVoodoo
DoNotWorryAboutTheSmellJustANewSpiceICookWith
SoStressedAtEndOfRopeSuchRage
FaggotBitch
DoNotGoOutWearingThat
YouHaveAFatAss
UnderQuarrantine
YouLookPaleAreYouFeelingOkay
IThinkYourCoughMightBeSerious
RedRumRedRum
TheGhostsInMyHeadScream
YourTattooIsSoBigAndStupidItLooksLikeACrossbowTarget
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