My computer clock keeps resetting itself to be ten minutes slow. Same with everyone in the office.
The worst part is, when I first arrived in February, it kept resetting itself to be FIVE minutes slow, so it’s getting even slower.
Do I want to make a big deal of it and have them call in the computer guy to fiddle with the server? Is it worth it?
I ask myself every day … seems the answer is usually no.
Oohh!! New invention! Swiffer socks!
I’m going to be rich!
Great rant!
When you get to New York, stop by. I’ll give you Welcome Wagon basket of Capital Letters. 
Yams, welcome to the City. Need a hand?
We’re trying to sell some stocks that Mr. Neville got as gifts when he was a child, to get money toward our down payment on our first house.
Fuck you, you stupid anal-retentive asshole at Fidelity! They won’t let him sell his stocks until he proves to them that he is over 18. Mr. Neville doesn’t look like he is under 18. Nobody with eyes and at least half the brainpower of a fly would think, if they saw Mr. Neville, that he might be under 18. He doesn’t sound under 18, either- I think even a non-brain-dead blind person could figure it out. He has never been carded when buying alcoholic beverages since I have known him, for the past nine years. SO WHY THE HELL ARE YOU MAKING HIM BRING IN A FUCKING CERTIFIED COPY OF HIS BIRTH CERTIFICATE TO PROVE HE IS OVER 18??! :mad: That, and you’ve made his mom spend a fucking fortune on FedExing signature forms to us, because there was some minor little thing wrong with the last two she sent (and yes, we tried faxing them- that was the first one that wasn’t good enough). I think this guy is just being an anal-retentive asshole to us because he can, and I hate people who do that sort of thing. I hope somebody leaves some cooked broccoli sitting out in his kitchen for at least a year.
Handy Bonus Gift-Giving Tip: If you know any snotty children who you do not like but are obligated to give gifts to for birthdays or holidays, consider buying them individual shares of stock, in their name and in one of their parents’ names. This will make tax time a living hell for them once they grow up and have to do their own taxes. It will presumably make tax time a living hell for their parents before that, so it is a particularly appropriate thing to do to bad children who you think are that way because their parents are doing something wrong.
I know you meant well, Neville relatives, but dealing with these stocks has been a pain in the ass for Mr. Neville at tax time for as long as I’ve known him, and now the real pain is starting as we try to sell them…
I swear to you I read this as “socks” and was thinking, “That’s a hella lotta socks to make a down payment on a house.”
**Teenage Guy Rapping on the Train: ** Shut the fuck up. Now. I know you think you sound great, rapping along with whatever’s blasting from your headphones, but to the rest of us trapped in the car along with you, you sound like a mumbling idiot with Tourette syndrome. Even if I liked rap (which, in fact, I loathe) the sad fact is that you completely suck. And “keeping the beat” by smacking the back of the seat in front of you is not helping. Try it when you’re sitting behind me; you’ll get one long, icy, murderous stare. If you’re too fucking dim to get the hint, expect your live performance to be suddenly cut short by the sound of your nose cartilage snapping. Peace out.
Many of you may be surprised to know that “Nebraska” comes after “North Carolina” and “North Dakota” in the alphabet.
I know! You’re thinking, “niblet, you been smokin’ some wacky corn?” but I swear it’s true! Just check out all the fucking website shipping address pull-down lists that use this Brave New Alphabet! Who knew???
:rolleyes:
NC
ND
NE
And those “words”, technically are not in the alphabet. 
Then they should USE “NC, ND” and “NE” in the field that the user sees, and NOT “North Carolina”, “North Dakota” and “Nebraska”.
(And don’t think I don’t notice that this is yet another fast as lightnin’ response to one of my mini-rants, 5-4. Again, with the logic! )
I hadn’t realized, sorry. Perhaps they present the entire name of the state, thinking not everyone will get the actual abbreviations right, but, for some reason need the abbreviation alphabetical “underneath.”
I have go lie down now, I have a headache.
Please feel free to pick apart my latest rant – #250. You can also laugh at me because I’m going home now and the subways are a mess; there was a power outage on the Upper West Side in Manhattan about 4:30 (mini-rant).
Stupid asshole unsafe cyclists.*
Remember, brothers and sisters, I am a cyclist too and I am just as aware as you are of the importance of avoiding having my brains splattered on the pavement. In fact I seem to be even more aware, going by the close calls I see you have every day.
I don’t know why you feel it’s necessary to do all sorts of stupid unsafe things (running lights, passing on the right, boxing me in at lights, etc) just to get ahead of me. If you are going at a faster rate of speed than I, you can do as the couriers do and pass me in between intersections when the road is clear. If you are not going at a faster rate of speed than I am, I am just going to have to pass you again when I reach a safe place to do so. And because you are oblivious, I know that you won’t go out of your way to make it safe for me to pass (by, for example, moving forward in a straight line, or looking over your shoulder before you swerve to the left, or paying attention in case anyone behind you might ring a bell).
I’m not asking you to follow the traffic laws. Please, by all means, put your own life in danger as much as you wish. Just leave mine out of it.
*Please note this rant is firmly and decidedly NOT directed at couriers and other experienced cyclists that non-cyclists often consider “unsafe.” They NEVER do these things that I am speaking of. Even if you are not convinced that they care for the sanctity of your life or their own, be assured that they certainly do care about that of their bicycle.
Dear Wendy’s:
Your commercial with the people kicking trees DOESN’T MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE.
Now make it go away before I’m compelled to shove a HOT JUICY BURGER up someone’s ass!
Maybe the point of the commercial is to get people to buy hot juicy burgers instead of sex toys?
I just realized who the fucker Mr. Neville had to deal with at Fidelity reminded me of!
When I came to California in 1998, I had to trade in my Maryland driver’s license for a California one. The DMV here, unlike some other states, requires you to bring in a copy of your birth certificate when you get a driver’s license (or at least it did then, and it was fairly atypical). Fortunately, someone (it might well have been the future Mr. Neville) tipped me off to this, so I had my papers in order at the DMV. The person behind the desk asked me, “Do you have a copy of your birth certificate?”, and I swear their face just fell when I said, “Yes, I do”- like they’d been looking forward to turning me away.
I suppose I should be happy for this guy- working at Fidelity has got to be a step up from the Santa Cruz County DMV.
Extra bonus tip for employers: Don’t do your recruitment for customer service jobs at the DMV.
It’s just the usual screw-ups with the space-time continuum that some computers get. When I was a sys admin, I remember one week in which someone got an email dated from sometime in the 1950s, and I got an email dated 2020. I lived in fear that I would be in a car accident or something, and someone would ask me what year it was, and I would have no idea, what with spending my days with computers with different opinions on the subject…
Only if he’d had lots of premarital socks…
ba-dum bing! Thank you, I’ll be here all week.
Funny! I moved from Maryland to California in 1997. I had an “Oh shit! My mom is on the Dope!?” moment, for the few seconds it took me to realize that my mom doesn’t live in the Bay Area and doesn’t keep kosher and the date was wrong :smack:
Pseudo-colleage from another team:
When you’re asking someone for a favor, say please.
Do not email saying “make this change, it’s urgent. Hurry.”
Do email stating:
what the problem is,
who found it out and when,
what have you investigated,
what do you think the fix is (if you have a theory),
and saying please. I’ll even accept bitte, since you only seem to remember your English when you want to order me around.
In order to make your urgent change (which by the way will take eight days because that’s how this company works), I need to fill two different reports in two different databases, one of which I still can’t access because my boss don’t wanna spend the time needed to ask for the damn access. That means this second report will have to be opened by a colleague; it may be that colleague who’s been known to write in report A “opening a report B” on Thursday and still not have report B opened on the following Tuesday. If I happen to get Mr Speedy helping me, your “urgent” fix will not go on Thursday of next week, but of the following week. Because that’s how this company works.
So, here’s the procedure I have to follow:
If you do not tell me what is broken, I’m not going to even open the toolbox, ok?
And urgent, my ass. Specially considering that 3/4 of your urgent stuff are things I pointed out months ago and was told “it’s ok, that’s how it’s designed.”
Yeah, that makes sense now that you point it out. People who don’t know their state abbreviations, tho, deserve to have their orders mis-delivered.
Well, us hayseeds out here in Nebraska don’t have that problem. We just get in our covered wagons and rrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide.
My tiny little rant is about pull-down menus for online companies - there is United States, first in the list, then we have to scroll down to find Canada in the C’s. It makes my day when an internet company is on the ball enough to realize that Canadians do a lot of online shopping, and have it as the second country on the list. At least we’re not Zimbabwe, I guess.
Oh, my goodness, you poor baby.
I forget where you are (though I’m thinking NYC), but this sounds like a quintessential, pain-in-the-ass New York moment on the MTA. Many times, I, too, have been tempted to go the STFU NOW!!! route, but decided that moving to an entirely different car would preserve both my sanity (well, the bits that I don’t completely lose by dealing with the slow, meandering folks–natives and tourists alike–in the city) and, in case the guy could be an even bigger dick than he’s already revealed himself to be, my health and life. Fuckin’ idiot subway “rappers”. Ugh!
At least the guys who do their acrobatics-cum-panhandling on the subway cars don’t bother me as much as your guy would. Well, sometimes.
You have my sympathies.