I went out to hit up the ATM this morning. Can you believe it? True story!
Gimme a break, I needed an exciting first line to draw people in. The real meat has to do with what was NEXT to the ATM. It was a Taco Bell. I was hungry while extracting cash fromthe loving arms of the ATM, and thought to myself “Hrm.. I could eat at there for less than the cost of the air I’m breathing… Why not?” So I ate at a Taco Bell. This would probably be the third time ever. I have nothing against it or its filthy wares per se… but the place has always struck me as somehow unwholesome. I mean, you can fill your car with ground beef and sour cream for like $3. How can that be ok??!! There HAS to be something amiss.
Anyways.. the only thing I have to whine about with them (aside form how small the stuff looks on the menu.. I ordered a damn feast it turns out) is the straws. Bear with me. They give me a barrel of Mountain Dew, and a damn swizzle stick to drink it with. I don’t like McDonalds, but I love the massive straws they have on their drinks. It fails to even be a straw anymore… really more of a “hydraulic riser shaft” at that point. So yeah… Taco Bell: Too much food for way too little, and tiny straws.
I’d comment on how the food was, but merely providing an opinion on it (positive or negative) would comprimise my cullinary integrity.
I feel bad for people of below average intelligence. I really do. I sympathize with their plight and can see how even simple tasks may be complex to them. for these average members of american society, every day is an adventure into finding complex answers to simple tasks (through no fault of their own, of course).
I went down to Panera today. ok, I really more of “bebop’d” then simply “went”. when I go someplace, I make it count. anyways… I ordered some yummy although slightly overpriced food, and was given one of those little buzzing pager dealies that vibrates to let you know your sandwich is done. you know.. so the employees don’t have to. over at the “get your food here” counter, there was a stack of these things. when you slap it on top of the stack, it stops vibrating through the magic of technology. The kindly folks at Panera have put up a number of big signs with very large font to draw attention to the fact that they’d like you to put these pagers back on the stack, and not leave them vibrating loudly on the counter. I saw no less than 7 people just leave their pagers on the counter. vibrating loudly. right in front of one of the fricken signs. In humanity’s defense, 2 people stacked them properly. I swear I should have been born into another race. Something less entirely unobservant. Maybe a sponge. Or a sea cucumber.
I AM A SEX AND/OR KILLING MACHINE. REGARD MY MULTITASKING CAPABILITIES.
I had a surprisingly good commute to work today. Don’t get me wrong, driving in general today has sucked so it’s not like anyone has to worry about traffic in MA getting any better. But this evening’s commute was… nice? yes.. nice. I take 117 to get to 495 then the Pike to get to work. 495 and the Pike are usually pretty tame off hours. It’s 117 that usually causes headaches.
117 is an old road. unlike most roads, the “117” isn’t actually a route number, but a numerical representation of an ancient American Indian word which translates roughly into the arabic alphabet as “oneseventeen”. This word, in its native tongue, means “one lane road in which no man is permitted to overtake another man’s carriage at any time lest ye be stricken by God and have a plague cast upon their house”. In an effort to avoid insulting ancient Indian heritage, the current route 117 is a one lane road with no passing zones. It is typically crawling with police which causes the braindead idiots on it to travel at 10mph below the speed limit, since the common understanding of the law states that if you are caught actually travelling the speed limit you will be drawn, quartered, and fed to your household pets.
Today was the first time I can remember that I wasn’t behind someone. This was the high point of my day.
Dear *powers that be*: Please stop doing ANYTHING. Sweet merciful (insert name of savior of choice), everything at work is breaking. EVERYTHING. I’ve been here for an hour now and it feels like 4. A lot of “abnormal” things are going on, and our software that we deal with events through is quasi-crashing as it slowly plods along through all the events with all the quickness of a creeping slime mold (L54+). It’s like someone is saying “here, perform heart surgery on these 12 dying patients. And finish in the next hour. And here, please wear these mittens while you’re doing it. NOTHING aggrivates me more than being given a job and not having the tools I need to deal with it. And this isn’t even the sort of thing where I can be resourceful and get around the problem (Honda, meet zip-ties).
AAHHH! Shit keeps breaking! And Netcool is being stupid, giving me the chance to write on the internet between events. because they take 5 fucking minutes each to process. SLA? what’s that mean? you’ll have to explain it to me.
EDIT – oh delightful, shit is blowing SLA before it even appears on my screen. Way to make me useless. “Dance cause there ain’t nothin’ else to do”.
At my job, we do level 1 support (IE, we take the customer calls) for a company that sells mailservers with spam killing services on them. Below is a snippet from a conversation I was having with one of the cooler engineers we assign cases to
IggDawg: how goes the battle?
KC: I just told a man who said “should penis be worth 35” how “not to let penis or vagina through your ironmail”
KC: it’s going to be a long night
IggDawg: lol… outstanding. damn dealing with spam you guys must see some wierd shit
KC: interesting fact
KC: do you know the number 1 spam email of 2002 ?
IggDawg: what ever could it be?
KC: “Horse Cock”
KC: do you know how hard it is to tell a customer
KC: “I’m sorry horse cock went to your manager” or “I’m sorry your manager has to deal with Horse Cock on a daily basis”
IggDawg: with a straight face anyways
KC: no joke
KC: the first angry customer I heard with that I lost it – I had tears in my eyes
KC: “WHY DO I KEEP GETTING ANIMAL PORN?! WHY?! I SWEAR TO GOD I GET HORSE COCK EVERY DAY! DO YOU THINK I LIKE HORSE COCK?!”
KC: laughter – at that time – was not the best medicine – but she ended up on speaker phone
I’m wearing torn jeans, a t-shirt, and flipflop sandals. This is my work outfit. I approve of this arrangement.
I no longer have a Cone of Darkness ™. They replaced the light above me at work. This will not stand.
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