Wednesday, December 31, 2008
What did I do this year, really?
Bought a house?
Got a new job?
Watched a brother get elected to the Presidency?
No, I really didn't do much of anything this year. I just sat back and let stuff happen around me while I fiddled with my navel and muttered half-hearted curses at random people.
But, as I sit here (in my office with nothing better to fucking do than write this driveling prose) and compose these thoughts, my mind starts wandering back to older NYE's and where I was, what I did, and how I woke up the next morning.
The past few years were spent at home with Kate, watching the ball drop, eating fondue, and drinking mediocre champagne. Oh, and there were gunshots. Lots of them. Thousands of them. All around. We considered going into the basement to escape the hail storm of lead.
There was a NYE spent in Fredericksburg at a bar listening to some friends' band play their brand of crunchy metal. Good times, lots of booze, lots of attractive women (who wouldn't fuck me - yeah, let me re-phrase that - "lots of attractive bitches"), and a general sense of a little bit of all right.
There were one or two Charlotte parties that involved copious amounts of ... substances and fireworks.
There was a night at the Litter Box that ended with rum and started the next morning with rum. And somehow... somehow I puked out of a second-story window and it froze to the outside wall. That was keen... drunken, stoned, and possibly hallucinogenic keenness.
Then there was the biggie - the one that stands out in my mind and gives me a tingle whenever my mind reaches back to it. The one that makes me grin like fry-slinger at Carl's Jr. who's just been given a piece of gum and a shiny penny. The one that, truthfully, trumps them all.
I woke up on December 31st 1999 and drank, smoked, and partied my way through the morning. I took a nap... with a bottle of Captain Morgan's Parrot Bay.
Curled up on the ground in the swamp.
With my arms lovingly wrapped around that bottle.
I... did things that night that kept me wide-eyed and awake.
I remember my inflatable chair - possibly the single coolest and most insightful provision I have taken with me on any excursion.
I remember the air boat.
The hot dog.
I remember Cheesecake (may it always bring a tingle and a small smile to my face no matter how fucking cheesy it is to say).
I remember a sick Reba starting off and winding itself into a jam. I remember getting lost in it, buffeted about the crowd in this viciously tender jam. I remember finally opening my eyes, forgetting what song it was and looking pleadingly at G-Funk and saying "Wh-what the fuck song is this? How'd we fucking get here?!"
I remember wandering off to piss against the 15' wall.
I remember somehow finding my way back.
I remember the light-stick chain.
I remember that nameless and faceless hippie off to my left screaming in a voice and tone that would have ripped the hearts out of the Gods with its desperation, "Where the fuck is the sun?!"
And then it came.
I remember the single most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen. The way the clouds packed against each other - the seams between them glowing in a fierce red-orange explosion of light.
I remember that "Wading." At the risk of being a complete girl-child I have a hint of a moistness in my eyes as I think about it. It must be my dusty office. I remember the way Page's voice cracked, how we were all in the same place with him, how Pure it sounded. How right.
And the shuffling back to our cars to the sounds of the Beatles:
"...It's all right...
Here comes the sun...
Here comes the sun."
I tend to block out the next 21 hours of sitting, waiting, hoping the cars in front of me will move so I might be able to get to civilization, get a shower, feel the electric joy of cold porcelain beneath my ass... that part was misery after misery, our collective Pound of Flesh.
This year I'll sit in my house in front of my fireplace with Kate and watch the ball drop. We'll drink some wine, maybe some beer, maybe some tequila, definitely some rum. We'll eat some fondue and we'll wake up tomorrow morning to 2009.
Sounds quiet, chaos-free, and pretty god damned all right.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Yes... I have nothing to do today but sit here and look like I am busy doing Really Important and Complicated Things With Servers.
That's an exaggeration, of course... I am actually reading into some cool reporting tools for Sharepoint that will give me Google-like trends and usage data, but that's not really of much interest to you, is it?
You don't care if I can find the top 20 keyword searches in my MOSS environment, do you?
Or what about the average usage per site collection?
Percentage growth in collections over the course of 6 months?
Did I lose ya there?
Yeah... BOOBS! BEER! PORNO!
Welcome back... so, yes, as the week ticks along towards Angstmas, fewer and fewer things appear on my plate at work. It gives me a good chance to catch up on research and documentation.
Joy to the world.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
LUBBOCK, Texas (AP) -- Slingin' Sammy Baugh, the ultimate three-way threat who revolutionized the use of the forward pass as a Hall of Fame quarterback for the Washington Redskins, died Wednesday night. He was 94.
Baugh, who had numerous health issues, died at Fisher County Hospital in Rotan, according to his son, David Baugh. He said his father had battled Alzheimer's disease and dementia for several years and recently had been ill with kidney problems, low blood pressure and double pneumonia.
"It wasn't the same Sam we all knew," his son told The Associated Press. "He just finally wore out."
Sammy Baugh was the last surviving member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame's inaugural class.
After starring at TCU, "Slingin' Sammy" played with the Redskins from 1937 to 1952, leading them to the NFL title in his rookie season and again in 1942.
Baugh was the best all-around player in an era when such versatility was essential. In 1943, he led the league in passing, punting and defensive interceptions. In one game, he threw four touchdown passes and intercepted four as well. He threw six touchdowns passes in a game twice. His 51.4-yard punting average in 1940 is still the NFL record.
"There's nobody any better than Sam Baugh was in pro football," Don Maynard, a fellow West Texas Hall of Famer who played for Baugh, said in a 2002 interview. "When I see somebody picking the greatest player around, to me, if they didn't go both ways, they don't really deserve to be nominated. I always ask, 'Well, how'd he do on defense? How was his punting?"'
When Baugh entered the NFL, the forward pass was so rare that it was unveiled mostly in desperate situations. But Baugh turn the pass into a regular feature of the offensive game plan.
As a rookie in 1937, he completed a record 81 passes (about seven a game) and led the league with 1,127 yards. By contrast, only six quarterbacks averaged three completions a game that year. He went on to lead the league in passing six times.
Baugh still holds Redskins records for career touchdown passes (187) and completion percentage in a season (70.3). His 31 interceptions on defense are third on the team's career list.
"He was amazing, just tremendously accurate," Eddie LeBaron, who took over as Washington's quarterback in Baugh's last season, said in a 2002 interview. "He could always find a way to throw it off balance. I've seen him throw the ball overarm, sidearm and underarm and complete them."
Baugh guided the Redskins to five title games and two championships, playing his entire career without a face mask. His No. 33 is the only jersey Washington has retired.
"Sammy Baugh embodied all we aspire to at the Washington Redskins," Redskins owner Dan Snyder said. "He was a competitor in everything he did and a winner. He was one of the greatest to ever play the game of football, and one of the greatest the Redskins ever had. My thoughts and prayers are with his family tonight."
Baugh's reputation blossomed as a star high school football, baseball and basketball player in Sweetwater. It began to grow during his college days at TCU.
It was there that he picked up the nickname "Slingin' Sammy" -- but it wasn't for his passing. It was for the rockets he fired to first base as a shortstop and third baseman.
"Everybody thought I was a better baseball player growing up," he said in 2002. "I thought I was going to be a big league baseball player."
As an All-American football player, he led TCU to a 29-7-3 mark, including Sugar Bowl and Cotton Bowl victories. He masterfully executed an early ancestor of the West Coast offense at TCU, and he credits Horned Frogs coach Dutch Meyer with his NFL success.
"Sam Baugh will always remain an integral part of TCU," athletic director Danny Morrison said in a statement. "His accomplishments have left an undeniable impact on our football program and the sport in general. TCU is extremely fortunate and honored to call Sam Baugh one of its own."
Baugh was known to make blunt, witty remarks.
After the Redskins' 73-0 loss to the Chicago Bears in the 1940 championship, a writer asked if the outcome would have been different had an end not dropped an early touchdown pass.
"Yeah," drawled Baugh. "It would have been 73-7."
Baugh was known for his reclusiveness.
After his NFL career, Baugh retreated to his 7,600-acre West Texas ranch about 95 miles southeast of Lubbock. The Hall of Fame and the Redskins have tried to lure him east for ceremonies over the years, and he always turned them down.
For years he drove to Snyder three or four times a week for golf, until sore knees, searing heat and the 100-mile round trip made those outings too tough.
But he always enjoyed football season.
"I'll watch it all damn day long," Baugh, who often sprinkled his conversation with mild obscenities, told The Associated Press in a 2002 interview. "I like the football they play. They got bigger boys, and they've also got these damn speed merchants that we didn't have in those days. I'd love to be quarterback this day and time."
David Baugh sees talent comparable to his father's in today's NFL players, citing Indianapolis Colts quarterback Peyton Manning in particular.
"He's great, but he doesn't punt and he doesn't play safety on defense," David Baugh said. "In that regard, Sammy was pretty darned great."
Sammy Baugh bought the Double Mountain Ranch, named for two hills that jut out of the flat earth north of his house, in 1941. He and his wife, Edmonia, who died in 1990, raised five children on the arid expanse covered with mesquite trees, prickly pear cactus and about 500 cows.
He came to the ranch full time in the mid-1960s, after several two years coaching the New York Titans and a year with the Houston Oilers.
In addition to his son David, Baugh is survived by sons Todd Baugh, of Billings, Mont., and Stephen Baugh, of Midland; daughter Frances Baugh, of Lubbock; sister Nell Kindrick, of Garland; 12 grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren.
Copyright 2008 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Yes, the longer I go without sleep the fat my cords get and the more stoned my voice becomes.
It's been a long, tiring evening of changing, testing, reverting, testing, changing again, testing, etc. Everything was thankfully successful and everyone is singing praises this morning... or would be if they knew the drastic changes that took place behind the scenes. I guess that's kind of the thing, ain't it? If they don't notice a difference and huge changes happened, then I guess that speaks to the planning and execution, yes?
I shall take my fucking bow, now.
Really, though, the boss knows what we did and was suitably impressed and relieved.
Fuck, I think there's tiny fly buzzing in front of my face, but...
...well, what if he's not there?
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
I get to a small text field and I immediately start typing a status update.
"is not sure what to type here."
"'s typing is abnormally fast today."
I need to stop constantly updating my Facebook shit. Of course, this will appear as a note, but ONLY because my blog's RSS feed ties into FB.
Between now and then nothing.
Wide Open Plains.
Tonight, though, tonight shit goes down... from an IT Project point of view, of course. I don't mean to sound dramatic like I'm going out on the town to find that no good sonuvabitch and end his miserable existence with the perfection and purity of a single well-placed bullet.
Nothing of the sort.
I have 3 hours to kill until I can jet out of here, run home, have some grub, maybe wrap some gifts, and then come back into the office (well, cold datacenter) to Perform My Magic.
My Technomantic Divination.
That'd look kind of groovy on a business card.
Systems Administrator / Technomantic Deity
Thursday, December 11, 2008
I mean, I've got stuff in it, but nothing that really screams that I am a unique snowflake.
On my L-shaped desk moving from left to right:
* A stack of phone and voicemail manuals
* A phone and pen resting on it
* A raised laptop and keyboard
* A monitor with handy tray containing:
- A SRD disk for BESR 8.5.1
- A pad of sticky notes
- Six Sudafed tablets
* A 750GB USB drive
* A green-shaded brass lamp
* My empty coffee mug (I should do something about that)
* 2 yellow legal pads
* Assorted pens and a pocket knife
* A small desk calendar (of the small ringed day-by-day type)
* A small tray with scrap paper
* An empty business card holder
* A full paper clip holder
* Two or three small note pads and a stack of SMS scripting FAQs
* A black Corporate Express stapler... I need a Swingline.
* A printed out Active Monitor script that tests fine, but fails in production
* A 3Com PXE server CD
* A stackable set of trays (mostly empty)
What you do not see is the hotel room artwork above my desk of what appears to be a dinghy pulled up onto a grassy yard. It rests next to a white picket fence and what appears to be the base of an old light house. There's a small patch of blue in one corner that I assume represents the sea.
I also have a pair of uncomfortable chairs, a horizontal wooden filing cabinet, and a mostly empty bookshelf that contains a handful of Windows Server 2003, Exchange 2003, and SQL manuals.
And that, my fine readers, is my exciting office. It does, however, have a lockable door and a pair of windows that overlook the parking lot and a pair of... well, I don't knwo what kind of trees they are. Small leaves, paper-like bark...
Yep... gonna be a long day.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Make a Difference right off the bat.
Prove thine worth.
It's a whole other thing to come in doing just that and then suddenly having The Most Important IT Project In The History Of The Company dropped into your lap with the expectation that you are up to speed on every single server and application running in the environment.
Thankfully, I am in the process of bending that project over and... well... doing something brutally sexual to it that may be illegal in many states and principalities. But, hey... that's how I roll.
In other news, there are mumbles and rumors that the Company wants me to give up my Sammie for a Bluhbuhry... I'm not sure how I feel about this as I have never been a big fan of those devices. I'd been somewhat excited about maybe, potentially, getting a Spirit (is that the new touchie feelie? Eh, you know what I mean), until I heard it described as having all of the downsides of an iPhone and none of the cool gadgetry. Of course, the person that told me this was in the process of drinking away the initial pain of an upcoming holiday in a Bad Town, so he may not be the best of judges.
I stare out of my office window a lot. It's all ground floor and stuff, so I don't have the god-like view that I had in my last job with a window (wow... it's been... NINE YEARS since I had a desk next to a window) and that was on the ninth floor of a building that over-looked Southpark Mall in Charlotte, NC.
God damn... that could make me all Tyler Durdennie if I let it.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Domino’s is Pioneering a Whole New Way of Ordering…Via TV
ALVISO, CA & ANN ARBOR, MI — November 17, 2008 — TV has never tasted this good. That’s because TiVo Inc. (NASDAQ: TIVO), the creator of and a leader in television services for digital video recorders (DVRs), and Domino's Pizza, Inc. (NYSE: DPZ), the recognized world leader in pizza delivery, have teamed up to give broadband connected TiVo subscribers the ability to order pizza for delivery or pick-up, and track delivery timing, right from their TV sets using the TiVo® service. It’s a service that cooks up the perfect pizza purchasing recipe.
“Our commitment to customer satisfaction is what has helped us become the leader in the global pizza delivery market,” said Rob Weisberg, vice president of precision and print marketing at Domino’s Pizza, Inc. “We are confident that teaming with TiVo on this novel, easy, and convenient way to order pizza right from the TV will be very well received by our customers. This is the first step in the future of customer interactions with the brands they seek to engage with and buy from. This is the first time in history that the ‘on-demand’ generation will be able to fully experience couch commerce by ordering pizza directly through their television set. You’ll see a television ad for Domino’s and you’ll click ‘I want it’ through your remote. In about 30 minutes, your pizza will show up at your door.”
Karen Bressner, Senior Vice President of Advertising Sales, TiVo Inc said, “Joining forces with Domino’s Pizza creates an effective marketing and commerce tool for Domino’s while enhancing and further distinguishing TiVo as the ultimate way to watch TV with a closed-loop advertising experience. This exciting new partnership offers yet another advertising solution as commercial avoidance continues to increase. With just a few clicks of the remote, TiVo users can pause their program, order a pizza, and then sit back, relax, and return to their favorite show without missing a single second. Now, TiVo delivers the absolute best television viewing experience…and a pizza.”
TiVo subscribers can seamlessly access their Domino's Pizza order from various advertising entry points on the TiVo user interface including Gold Star Sponsorship, Program Placement, Interactive Tags in live TV spots, and through Music, Photos, Products, & More by clicking on “Order Your Dominos Pizza Now.” TiVo is serving up a piping hot new service that’s truly made to order and gives a whole new meaning to the term “TV dinner.”
TiVo subscribers can set-up a user name and password on Dominos.com so that each time they use their TiVo remote to place an order, they can log-in with a simple account number. Alternatively, TiVo subscribers can enter their delivery address, build their pizza order right from the television set by selecting type of crust, toppings, and sauces, and get the pizza delivered by their local Domino’s Pizza.
Bressner added: “Our commitment to revolutionizing interactive advertising and commerce on the television is a direct result of the innovative solutions and features we provide. TiVo’s growing list of interactive features also includes the ability to find and purchase products on Amazon.com related to a customer’s favorite TV show or the convenience of being able to search for a movie that’s playing nearby and purchase tickets through Fandango – all by using the TiVo remote.”
Starting today, this new service is free of charge to all broadband connected TiVo subscribers and supports both delivery and pick-up orders. Viewers pay in cash when the pizza is delivered.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Get out there and do your god-damned civic duty.
I don't care if you vote for Obama, McCain, Barr, Nader, Mickey Fucking Mouse... just go out and participate in the process that keeps our country moving. (And, that's a lie... Vote Obama!)
On a side-note... let's play a little game. If McCain wins, will there be any craziness tonight or tomorrow? Will that start the Great Race Wars of '08?
What city will be the first to burn?
I'm voting Atlanta.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
"I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their currency, first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around [the banks] will deprive the people of all property until their children wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered. The issuing power should be taken from the banks and restored to the people, to whom it properly belongs."
-TJ, 1802 letter to his Sec Tres.
"We must not let our rulers load us with perpetual debt. We must make our election between economy and liberty or profusion and servitude. If we run into such debt, as that we must be taxed in our meat and in our drink, in our necessaries and our comforts, in our labors and our amusements, for our calling and our creeds...[we will] have no time to think, no means of calling our miss-managers to account but be glad to obtain subsistence by hiring ourselves to rivet their chains on the necks of our fellow-sufferers... And this is the tendency of all human governments. A departure from principle in one instance becomes a precedent for[ another]... till the bulk of society is reduced to be mere automatons of misery... And the fore-horse of this frightful team is public debt. Taxation follows that, and in its train wretchedness and oppression"
-TJ, 1816 letter
"I hope we shall... crush in its birth the aristocracy of our
moneyed corporations, which dare already to challenge our
government to a trial of strength and bid defiance to the laws of
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Really. Fuck 'em.
I don't care about that black single mom working at 7-11 who has two kids, no health insurance, and is living paycheck to paycheck.
Fuck her kids.
Fuck her kids' futures.
And fuck that redneck working at some lumber factory slicing boards.
Who gives a fuck if that factory is failing.
Who gives a fuck if he is about to lose his job and won't be able to support his family.
I am all for Capitalism.
Capitalism is God's system of economics.
It's the only Right and True system of figuring out who is the Purest and Best in our society. We should help those at the top. They made it there by the Grace of God and they should be rewarded with lower taxes as they will obviously turn around and invest those savings in new jobs.
But now there's a politician that is saying we should CARE about those less fortunate? Fuck that. Fuck him. Fuck the Weak. Fuck the Ones Who Can't Help Themselves. He wants Redistribution of Wealth! He Wants Socialism!
BETTER DEAD THAN RED!
Redistribution of wealth... wait... isn't that... well, isn't that the same as taxes? Isn't that what taxes are meant to do? Take a little bit of money from everyone and turn that tax into funding for the government? And wouldn't it be better if the government took a proportionally fair amount from each person?
But he's a Socialist! You know what... maybe, just maybe... well, we're doing a shitty job looking after one another maybe the government should step in. Maybe we should be a Better Society and try to push back against our baser nature. Maybe we should start to Care...
Maybe... just maybe... we should look beyond the moment (liblub)...
Sunday, October 19, 2008
date Sat, Oct 18, 2008 at 10:03 AM
subject Your Ticketmaster Order (**********)
Thank you for purchasing tickets on Ticketmaster.
Your order number for this purchase is **********.
You will receive your tickets via: UPS Delivery - All orders will be fulfilled and shipped two (2) weeks prior to the show - not available to PO Box addresses. PO Box orders will be shipped via Priority Mail at same rate.
We'll email you when your tickets are printed and about to be shipped.
You purchased 2 tickets to:
Phish - 3 Day Event Package
Hampton Coliseum, Hampton, VA
Multiple Dates and Times
Order for: Rob S*****
Seat location: section GENADM
Total Charge: US $ 364.50
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
|Phish Tickets ||Tue, Oct 14, 2008 at 5:45 PM|
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
And I love the fact that she's so incredibly thoughtful. For example, she was at Big Lots the other day (one of her few sick, dark, and insidious obsessions/addictions) when she saw a sale on men's knit boxers.
She bought me a pack.
So far, everything's cool here.
I don't think about things like that. Really... I could be wearing boxers held together by ass grease and two threads and it's highly unlikely that I will (a) notice or (b) give a shit.
There is something to be said, though, in slipping on a pair of brand new knit boxers. It's like a soft yet crisp feeling t-shirt for your gennies.
Truly, a wondrous feeling, indeed.
BUT... you MUST remember that these are NEW boxers.
They are not like your old boxers.
Unless you get the exact - EXACT - same brand, you must beware your muscles' memory.
If you have been in a meeting lubricated with flowing thermii of coffee and carafes of OJ, the likelihood is high that by the end of the 2 hours, you will need to urinate - nay, PISS.
And you will get to the urinal.
And you will unzip your fly.
And the torrent of yellow will begin flowing through the necessary escape tubes.
And your hands will go to unbutton the boxers.
And you will not find the button.
Suddenly, in that split instant, you are caught between fumbling desperately for an opening to your clothes whilst your by-products are flooding your insides, rushing to the only opening possible with great vigor and reckless abandon.
You will whimper.
You will realize that in a hummingbird's heartbeat you will be soaking first your boxers and next your pants.
A lesser man than I would not have been quick enough to yank the business end out in time.
The moral of the story is: Know your buttons.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
I've almost made it a solid week without a cigarette and yesterday the Redskins played their final regular season game in Dallas's Texas Stadium... and they man-handled the 'girls. The 26-24 score is kind of misleading as the late touchdown really just put lipstick on the pig as the 'girls were OUT-PLAYED, OUT-SCORED, and (as always) OUT-CLASSED by the Skins.
And then... wow, this is hilarious.
In the post-game wrap-up LaVar Arrington kept referring to T.O. as follows:
"She got really frustrated at the end of the game."
"Her team lost and she got angry."
Way to call out the cunt, LA.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Actually went to a bar Tuesday night on day one and got through that with little to no problems. I also went and mowed the back yard last night.
See, that was a big reason I quit smoking. It sucks having to stop and catch a breather a few times while mowing your fucking lawn.
Ran through the backyard after having been off the puffs for a couple of days.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Sherry_GWER7953 joined the incident.
The dull to sharp throb in the top right of center of the old brain pan sucks a steaming log, though.
Here's the shit part.... I had to let my boss know that he was an inadvertant prick of a glorious magnitude. See, he took off for vacation on Sunday leaving me to go shmooze and hobnob with local IT bosses and techs at this "Hey! Let's Get Together and Geek Out Over Beer!" type of thing.
I get free food.
I get lots and lots of free booze.
And it's tonight - you know... Day 1 of the no smoking thing?
And this fucking client of mine....
Mother fucker I fucking HATE cock holes who do a couple of quick google searches and auto-fucking-matically assume they know everything about every piece of technology and complet6ely ignore everything I say, have said, will say about a topic and demand the absolute wrong technology because it's got a cool fucking name and some dickhole cunt-whistle in podunk Des Moines gave it a good fucking review on C-Fucking-Net becuase it's the first gadget his fucking farmer boss ever fucking bought him.
Have fun with yoru new fucking toy, douche.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Yep, cravings under control.
Attitude under control.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
I know I had some dreams last night, but nothing too terrifying or outrageous.
I'm still fucking hazy - although not quite as bad as it was yesterday.
More to come.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Your session ID for this incident is 22033704.
09/17/2008 02:16:43PM Session Started with Agent (AES Brandon W)
09/17/2008 02:16:48PM Agent (AES Brandon W): "Hello, thank you for contacting Dell's Enterprise Chat Support. My name is AES Brandon W. Once the chat session is completed, a transcript will be sent to XXXXXXXXXX. Please give me 2 to 3 minutes to access your system details and contact information."
09/17/2008 02:16:57PM Rob xxxxxx: "No problem"
09/17/2008 02:18:37PM Agent (AES Brandon W): "How can I help you today? Please provide as much information as possible, such as error messages, symptoms, and any troubleshooting steps that may have been taken up to this point."
09/17/2008 02:19:20PM Rob xxxxxx: "Well, I just wiped the box clean with a goal of installing Windows Server 2008 to it, but I can't find a driver for the CERC2s that will work with that OS."
09/17/2008 02:19:30PM Rob xxxxxx: "Do you have an updated one lying around somewhere that I'm not seeing?"
09/17/2008 02:19:53PM Agent (AES Brandon W): "Let me check on that for you. Give me just a moment to create a case for you."
09/17/2008 02:20:05PM Rob xxxxxx: "Right on"
09/17/2008 02:21:33PM Agent (AES Brandon W): "Your case number is 5553032 . Please reference this number if you need to contact technical support again on this issue. Alternatively, you can reach me at Brandon_Wxxxxxx@dell.com. Make sure you include the case number in the subject line."
09/17/2008 02:22:32PM Rob xxxxxx: "Will do"
09/17/2008 02:22:45PM Agent (AES Brandon W): "Thanks for waiting. I checked on that for you and Windows Server 2008 is not a tested or certified operating system for that Server. A list of the tested and certified systems can be found here: http://www.dell.com/content/topics/global.aspx/alliances/" en/os_certifications?c=us&l=en&s=corp
09/17/2008 02:23:14PM Agent (AES Brandon W): "Unfortunately since 2008 is not a supported OS on the SC420 we do not have drivers for it."
09/17/2008 02:23:20PM Rob xxxxxx: "Meaning that no driver will be released for it?"
09/17/2008 02:24:23PM Agent (AES Brandon W): "Dell itself will not be releasing drivers for that server. I checked another resource and i found that the CERC 2s is not supported in 2008."
09/17/2008 02:24:40PM Agent (AES Brandon W): "So there will be no drivers for 2008 for any other servers that use that controller."
09/17/2008 02:25:29PM Rob xxxxxx: "Well, hell... that eats a dick."
09/17/2008 02:25:34PM Rob xxxxxx: "Thanks!"
09/17/2008 02:25:38PM Agent (AES Brandon W): "Windows 2008 is a very demanding OS and the SC420 did not meet the requirements for logo certification by MS."
09/17/2008 02:26:17PM Session Ended
I was standing outside leaning against the tailgate of my truck, deep in conversation on my cell, and idly smoking a cigarette when I realized I was staring at the bed liner. It's one of those drop-in ridged deals, but the ridges were... well, oscillating and flickering.
This was cool.
I stared at it for quite some time before I realized I had almost lost track of the conversation - not a good thing (more on that in the weeks to come).
The result was a handful of splinters.
And I immediately went out and got a pack of smokes. I'd lasted a week? 5 days?
Regardless, on that first drag I felt all of my calm returning - flooding back into me. My harmonious existence had been restored. I looked at him and said, "If I ever try and quit again, punch me in the fucking face."
"Gladly," he said.
We both nodded knowingly and I went through the pack in 4 hours.
Now, what I think is 13 years later, I'm on that path again, and he's somewhere in the wilds of Pennsyltucky, unavailable for the required knock to the noggin.
My doc gave me the run-down on this shit and warned me about the vivid dreams. I laughed and explained that I used to do... well, I lived hard around the end of my college career and for a bit right after. I explained that lived hard enough for myself, him, his nurse, and a few others.
He laughed, gave me my scrip, and hooked me up with a $30-off card (the shit is $131.99).
I took the first pill last night.
A bit of dizziness.
But, I noticed last night that that a few hours after taking the pill - and this may be all in my head - cigarettes tasted differently. They were flat, unsatisfying, and well... meh. They weren't bad, really, but they just weren't... I dunno.
I love my Camel Lights, but these tasted like Merits, or... I dunno... something bland.
Another 4 or 5 days and I actually stop the smoking.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
There are quite a few things that have been recently set into motion, but I'm reticent to mention them openly online for the time being. Suffice to say that there is change in the wind - good change.
So, being as how a few years ago I was not a 14 year old girl, I never really got sucked into the whole MySpace thing. Sure, I set up a profile, but it was for no other reason that I enjoyed searching through the piles of horrendous profiles for the few photographic gems.
I've got to say, there are few things worse than MySpace profiles. Years ago there was a website (and I'm too lazy to search for it now) that was dubbed 'The Worst Website in the World.' The gist of the thing was that it was "written" by a trailer park kid who was maybe 15? 16?
Terrible layout, flashing text, frightening pictures, bad midi background music that looped in a somewhat... well, spastic way.
And 95% of all MySpace profiles are worse.
They grate on your nerves - not in a figurative sense, mind you, but it's an actual physical sensation of a tiny rasp slowly sliding across exposed nerve endings - the metal teeth gently digging in and scraping the sensitive cells, pulling them away from the body until they snap back into place with such an exquisite searing pain, like so many tiny rubber bands snapping relentlessly against your scrotum.
And then there's Facebook.
No real profile manipulation/personalization.
No background music.
No sparkles following your mouse pointer.
I hate My Little Green Patch, but still I accept the plants and the tiny little flower people (god how I'd like to see them wilt under some Agent Orange).
I hate My Little Sea Patch, but still I accept the fish and coral (again... to see the water churned up by jet skis and reddened by chum would be delightful).
I love Mob Wars and cannot stop Fighting, Drug Smuggling, etc etc etc.
I hate the Old Layout and Love the New Layout - fuck all of you dinosaurs that fear change.
Alas... I'm hooked.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Ever since I saw your glowing, angelic face I knew.
I would always, always love you, Allison.
You are my everything.
From hereon out, this blog is all about you, and only you, my sweet. Together we'll go through allt he highs and lows that 48 minutes of television can deliver.
Our relationship may only be one episode long, but it will feel like a life-time.
Keep checking back, my dearest...
Monday, August 18, 2008
I know you are going to cut and paste these into your browser, anyway. Keep in mind, though, that these sites are fucking horrendous and SHOULD NOT BE VIEWED AT WORK unless it's your last day at that particular job, of course...
Sunday, August 10, 2008
In fact, it is so wildly incorrect that it will actually be somewhat painful where the word "somewhat" means "really fucking."
What's even worse is when you are fishing at a tiny farm pond a mile off the main road and reached via a rutted, bumpy, rock-strewn "road."
And the nearest emergency room is 15+ miles away.
Yeah, emergency room - you try and keep your composure while trying to pry a fully embedded barbed treble hook from your own finger. Actually, let's see if you have a sense of humor and a light attitude after you've had a lure hanging from your finger by a deeply embedded hook and a foot-long bass hanging from the lure. It fucking sucks.
Trust me on this.
You know what sucks more?
The fucking tetanus shot in my arm.
I can't lift my arm almost 36 hours after the injection.
So, yeah, emergency room.
And I left with nothing but a band-aid on my finger. Sad, huh?
On a happier note:
Friday, August 8, 2008
Well, yeah. I was going to try and spin that in a different way, but when it comes down to it, I'm still a phone-jockey for an IT company. Yeah, I do quite a bit more than that - from designing WAN/LAN infrastructure, configuring some pretty cool DR solutions, to designing HUGE AD implementations - but in the end, I answer phone calls from clients and I fix their problems.
Been doing it for years.
And I do it really fucking well.
But... there are some.
Ok... his name is "David" from HP, and no... no, his name is fucking NOT "David." Anyhow, "David" was supposed to RMA a part for me on Monday and overnight it out so I could get my client's new server burned in. Guess what?
It's Friday morning.
AND... here's the kicker... see, I'm willing to cut some of these companies a bit of slack when this is not an immediate must-have. I understand the language barrier, I understand the hell that is daily phone-jockeying for callers who are usually not in the best of moods and looking to vent on someone - and venting on someone half a world away is easy to do. I get it that their job is a serious pain in the cock-hole, but....
When I call in with a problem and you transfer me to the proper department, don't hang up on me TWICE. Really...
It ain't good for your image.
And it fucking ain't good for my patience.
Right now there is a frightened Indian HP Tech Support guy furiously googling "Look, cunt, is Rob S----- gonna have to choke a bitch, here?"
Happily, at least the TONE needs no translation and the part is now confirmed to be en route.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Well, nothing's going on. Right now, I'm vaguely hungover, loaded with 'Monster' energy drink, 32 ounces of coffee, and 4 tabs of Alka Seltzer Wakeup Call. Needless to say, my body is vibrating slightly out sync with the rest of the world. And the epic trip to the shitter about 20 minutes ago...?
I have a ton of pics to post up on Flickr sometime this weekend from the past month. Got some Boonestock stuff, random other things that have amused me, etc etc etc.
Also, the Time has Come.
The first pre-season game is Sunday night at 8pm. Fucking Redskins Football, kids... it's back! This is the time of the year when I start to get giddy, my fiance sighs and accepts the fact that my Sundays are now booked solid, and my beer consumption rises sharply. I've washed the Cooley jersey, I'm going to be framing the S. Taylor jersey for the wall of the 'Man Cave' (god, that name is starting to give me the douche chills), and I'm ready for the goodness to begin.
By the way, if you are a Skins fan and you're not reading Cooley's Blog, you are a waste of life and a disgrace.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
And Trey said he'd give his left nut to be playing YEM 5 Times a day for the Rest of his Life.
Minor heart palpitations when I think about standing Page-side upper in Hampton twisted and staring slack-jawed at a monsoon of light and deafened by aural assault that is First Tube or feeling my feet leave the ground at the climax of Hood...
...and the thought of paying for a Tour and my mortgage at the same time.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Landing in Newark:
Newark Deux (I only snapped one in the terminal. People frown when you are taking pictures in an airport near NYC):
Checking in the Vibe (Yes, I drove a car named after a "marital aid"):
A Wide Stance (aka The Chili Volcano):
Leaving Las Louisville:
Awaiting The Mc:
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
How freaking cool is this shit?!
We also finally met the current owners. They. Are. Hippies.
The husband asked if I was going to any of the jam band shows this summer at Innsbrook. Nice to know we'll have some folks to drink with, apparently! Phil Lesh, moe., Disco Biscuits, The Umph, etc etc etc...
Yeah, it has been a good day.
There's still a ton of packing to do - mainly clothes at this point - and a ton of stuff to get out of the house and taken 'round back to the trash heap, but wow.
Eighteen and a half hours.
We od the final walk-through in 2.5 hours. I guess at that point it'll be closed and locked only to be opened a few hours later when we - WE - are the new owners. Honestly, I've been waiting for this day for a long fucking time - what with my sometimes foolish belief in the American Dream. Technically, I guess it's not ours until the mortgage is paid, but still...
Fuck... we're going to own a house.
And, of course, we have no internet service scheduled to be there as of yet, so... well, that may take a bit. I HOPE to just roll down to Verizon on Friday and grab some boxes as the place is already wired for FIOS, but something tells me it ain't that simple. Regardless...
I will be back online from home soon and TheRightRevRob will once again terrorize obnoxious cunts on XBL.
Monday, May 26, 2008
If you're reading this test message then it is painfully obvious that you are sorely lacking any other type of diversion.
It would behoove you to go outside and enjoy the spring (or fall, depending on where you are).
There is no more to this post other than what you have seen. Don't ask for anything else - it ain't coming.
Let me give a few tips here:
1) Setup your account and order the domain transfer from GoDaddy.
2) Login to your Yahoo account and unlock the domain.
3) Wait 30 minutes.
4) Follow the directions on transferring the domain you receive in your email - it will be sent to the Administrative Account listed in your Yahoo profile.
5) Eventually the Pending Transfers screen in your GoDaddy accoun t will show "Accept transfer at current registrar" -- this means that MelbourneIT (Yahoo's registrant) has to approve the transfer. Everything I have read states that this will likely take upwards of 5 days.
Look, I know DNS changes aren't fucking immediate. I get that - I change them all the time for any one of a hundred clients, but having to wait 5 FUCKING DAYS to transfer ownership of a domain is not only ridiculous, it's... well, it's just fucking ridiculous.
In the meantime, I have placed some forwards out there so hopefully the 3 visitors who actually read this page will get re-directed properly.
It's a bit shambling right now, but hopefully in the next 30 minutes all will be re-directed.
*.SPIDLER.ORG is now forwarding correctly.
WWW.SPIDLER.ORG is not.