Ongoing pet peeves, part N of X

Today's peeve is: people who load on the perfume/hairspray/stinky stuff so that when they exit the elevator and you enter it, you are trapped in a small room of over-sweet fug until you reach your floor.

Jesus H. Christ, people, you're supposed to be enhancing your own scent, not blowing out the noses of the hounds tracking you.

A note on hurricane response

I'm not posting a lot about this because my entire friends list seems to be well-informed on the topic, and I haven't had anything new to add besides OUTRAGE!~ and that's pretty well covered too.

But here's a wee bit o' tasty to brighten your day:

DHS's own published disaster response plan.

Among other gems, it nicely puts the lie to that whole "wah blame the local government we couldn't move withouth explicit permission" talking point, viz.:

Standard procedures regarding requests for assistance may be expedited or, 
under extreme circumstances, suspended in the immediate aftermath of an event
of catastrophic magnitude. 

Share and enjoy.