"I hate everything about you." Not really, but it's catchy don't you think? Just imagine wandering the halls at working singing that under your breath. In my case I think I'd have a visit from SWAT rather soon.
So, funny story. My kids like to go to jail. Or well, "the jail." Why you ask? Have I been a frequent visitor? No, well, not in the sense that one might think. And no, it doesn't have anything to do with me wandering the halls hating people and muttering "redrum." The long of it (we passed short a long time ago, laying on the side of the road beaten and bloody). The long of it is you see, well actually you don't, but you read. So, the long if it is that visitors of the jail in Ontario sometimes need to work for their room and board and they do so in various and sundry manners including wood gathering for humble patrons such as myself. The wood, although of dubious quality at times, is inexpensive and if I stop by at convenient times I can have current visitors help me load the wood while they insult the size of my truck. I usually avoid the latter as my schedule usually doesn't mesh with theirs. Anywho, so for my kids the jail isn't a bad place. that's a bad thing. I know that. I need to call it something other than "the jail." Maybe the center for the delinquent and naughty adult people. my kids would be abbreviating that to "the center" in no time at all.
Another mildly amusing story for dweeby techy people out there (are we all dweebs just because we can bend electronic things to our will by hacking phones, routers, video consoles (let alone computers) that mere mortals can barely operate?).
So, our beefy server that I mentioned on Sunday... What? What do you mean you didn't read it? Oh, so you read it but you didn't understand it? sigh. what am i going to do with you. Anyway, that's not important right now. What's important is that I have your attention now! Ok, so back to the story. So, we had a server and it needed a new processor/memory board which was on a daughter card (no jokes about son or grand-daughter cards please). Unfortunately, HP decided to save a buck and send us one without a processor so we had to move ours into it. Not a huge deal except it needed thermal paste reapplied. Well, suffice it to say that anything with paste and techies isn't going to end up well. Three men (well, two men and one techie chick) entered and the smart one (me) backed away from the thermal paste. The other two spent about twenty minutes trying to spread a thick and unfriendly good evenly over the processor. After awhile they called it good. I ignored them and read my e-mail. Then they kept asking me questions until I was forced to respond with a gentle "I hate everything about you." Then the story gets boring as we put aside our differences and installed the card with no major burnage. We'll see how long the processor lasts before it melts a whole through the server causing thermonuclear detonation.
I still need new speakers for my entertainment system.
So, funny story. My kids like to go to jail. Or well, "the jail." Why you ask? Have I been a frequent visitor? No, well, not in the sense that one might think. And no, it doesn't have anything to do with me wandering the halls hating people and muttering "redrum." The long of it (we passed short a long time ago, laying on the side of the road beaten and bloody). The long of it is you see, well actually you don't, but you read. So, the long if it is that visitors of the jail in Ontario sometimes need to work for their room and board and they do so in various and sundry manners including wood gathering for humble patrons such as myself. The wood, although of dubious quality at times, is inexpensive and if I stop by at convenient times I can have current visitors help me load the wood while they insult the size of my truck. I usually avoid the latter as my schedule usually doesn't mesh with theirs. Anywho, so for my kids the jail isn't a bad place. that's a bad thing. I know that. I need to call it something other than "the jail." Maybe the center for the delinquent and naughty adult people. my kids would be abbreviating that to "the center" in no time at all.
Another mildly amusing story for dweeby techy people out there (are we all dweebs just because we can bend electronic things to our will by hacking phones, routers, video consoles (let alone computers) that mere mortals can barely operate?).
So, our beefy server that I mentioned on Sunday... What? What do you mean you didn't read it? Oh, so you read it but you didn't understand it? sigh. what am i going to do with you. Anyway, that's not important right now. What's important is that I have your attention now! Ok, so back to the story. So, we had a server and it needed a new processor/memory board which was on a daughter card (no jokes about son or grand-daughter cards please). Unfortunately, HP decided to save a buck and send us one without a processor so we had to move ours into it. Not a huge deal except it needed thermal paste reapplied. Well, suffice it to say that anything with paste and techies isn't going to end up well. Three men (well, two men and one techie chick) entered and the smart one (me) backed away from the thermal paste. The other two spent about twenty minutes trying to spread a thick and unfriendly good evenly over the processor. After awhile they called it good. I ignored them and read my e-mail. Then they kept asking me questions until I was forced to respond with a gentle "I hate everything about you." Then the story gets boring as we put aside our differences and installed the card with no major burnage. We'll see how long the processor lasts before it melts a whole through the server causing thermonuclear detonation.
I still need new speakers for my entertainment system.
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