Now the word “derbis” is stuck in my head. Derbis, derbis, derbis. If I acquired a pet today, it would run a real risk of being named Derbis.
Derbis, derbis, derbis.
When I was a kid, I pronounced it “DEB-riss.” Until I was told different, of course. And there’s the immortal anecdote about me picking a “boo-quit” for my mom on either Mother’s Day or her birthday.
So am I. But I’m *also *non-exempt. It’s an odd little niche, but it does happen. Anyway, hope you don’t have a billable hours quota. 
Isn’t it fun? Personally, I pronounce it as DUR-biss. (The first vowel being a schwa, which I’m too lazy to actually pull up a character for.)
On this message board, I am among the least intelligent and educated, but in my little office, I’m the freakin’ Great Brain. It’s sad, and a little scary.
Idiot: “Wah! I’ve been trying to print this all day and the printer just keeps flashing this message at me! Plus a light! Plus nothing comes out!”
So I, you know, read the message (which says to put paper in a different tray than usual), follow the instructions, and presto! The printer is working. I would estimate that something like this happens three times a day, with various co-workers taking turns playing the idiot.
This is why I’m so tired all the time.
It never ceases to amaze me how many people are too fucking thick to follow very simple instructions. They could make a machine that *literally *holds your hand through the entirety of whatever process it wants you to follow, and these people would *still *find a way to fuck it up.
I feel the exact same. Its weird to go from totally baffled and astonished at the depth in Great Debates, and then switch to reality. :smack:
Is one of the idiotic things they do not being able to figure out which way to insert the paper in a fax machine, in spite of the little diagram? You show them, and they will still ask you the next time. “LOOK AT THE LITTLE DIAGRAM! SEE WHERE THE LINES OF TEXT ARE? THEY GO FACE DOWN!” “What little diagram?” “THE ONE ON ALL FAX MACHINES IN NORTH AMERICA!”
Or my personal favourite, the people who are most likely to get yelled at by me some day - the people who find it much, much easier to ask me how to do EVERYTHING rather than ever try to figure something out or look something up themselves.
“How do I staple this document?”
“Have you checked the “STAPLING DOCUMENTS” section of the handbook?”
“No.”
“What makes you think it’s easier for me to read the handbook than for you to read it?”
I get lower level techs escalating their call to me because the customer is getting an error message. What error message? Oh, they haven’t bothered to ask. Yeah, that might be important. We have all these documents telling you what to do based on what the error message is. FUCKING ASK!
:rolleyes:
:mad:
[quote=“Chimera, post:1188, topic:544239”]
Is that you Bill? Looks at coworker and next desk.
Seriously, our helpdesk has checkilsts of information to collect for specific problems. Follow the script people! You’re not smart enough to go off it!
And my rant. Earworms!
Whack fol the daddy-o, There’s whiskey in the jar.
Going through my head for the past 24 hours. Stop it, damn it!
Try “Disco Duck” - that should kick whatever song is in your head out. 
You know, I was gonna complain that yesterday, a friend had “implanted” Xanadu as my latest earworm. I’m no longer complaining about that, though.
I hate you.
deep breath
“It’s a world of laughter, a world of tears,
It’s a world of hope, and a world of fears,
there’s so much that we share,
that it’s time we’re aware,
It’s a small world after all!”
“Disco, disco duck
Try your luck
Don’t be a cluck
Disco, disco duck”
You know, it occurs to me that the teeny-agers might not have experienced the awesomeness that is this song - I’ll have to see if I can find it. Found it! Rick Dees AND the Solid Gold Dancers! The eighties were indeed a strange time.
I’ve always thought that this is caused not by stupidity (though that helps), but that the person is simply too lazy to try to find a solution themselves because people think…deep down in their psyche…that someone else should be fixing it. Some magical being who exists to help them deal with this techy stuff because they’re simply ‘too busy’ and ‘too important’ (importance level is not related to job level) to deal with themselves.
Perhaps the same magical fairy that cleans their dirty coffee mugs in the lunch room!
But dude…then they’d have to help the person themselves! Passing it on to you in a half assed manner is clearly better! (For them)
This rings absolutely true.
About a year and a half ago, the guy next to me would play this song I absolutely despised, but he loved, about 10 times a day, at a volume above acceptable. After numerous complaints went nowhere, I found a link to a page that played “It’s a Small World” immediately upon opening, and made it a favorite, with direct desktop and browser links.
Every. Fucking. Time. He played that song, I started playing IASW. After a couple of days, I no longer heard his song 10 times a day. Yeah, it took that long. Then even a month later, he’d occasionally play it again and get met with IASW each time. Then he started complaining about ME. My response: I play this each and every time he plays that other song that I have complained about, and ONLY then. So if he’s complaining about hearing this song, then it’s because he is playing the song he’s been told not to be playing that loud.
Who regulates placementof signs in streets rant (kinda)?
I live in a little community with little narrow streets (fire lanes actually) run by little people with little insight into the real world.
They have decided to limit the speed to 15mph. That’s fine. They decided to put little 15 mph signs in the -middle- of the narrow street. That’s fine, they look like those signs you see in model railroads, but these are glued to the center of the streer.
These signs are designed to easily break away if hit by a car without causing more than a slight scratch or two and easily engineered for quick replacement. However, one little person had a great idea. Fill the sign shafts (the sign pole) with iron and concrete. That way they won’t break (as easy) if hit. I asked the little people doing the little job whowould pay for the damage the solid object in the road would cause,and they said “the drivers insurance company.”
Kind of like a rock in a snowball to me. Not real smart.
Who should I contact about this?
Cat:
I’ve always admired you, but now I freakin’ love you! If my idjit SIL realizes *she *can get sick from her kids, maybe then she’ll get *them *immunized.
My actual rant:
Listen up, because I tire of repeating this: I did NOT marry a rich doctor. We met and married as undergrads, then I commuted over an hour in Dallas traffic for years to put him through grad school. If anything, I married a do-it-yourself doctor kit.
Also, he’s a PhD working for the federal government. Impressive and worthy of respect, but hardly rich. If we were, I wouldn’t still be working.
Please get this straight. Thank you.
Thanks, mang. It occurred to me that if people can glurge idiotic stuff all the time, why can’t we glurge useful information? 
Sounds like a question for your state’s Department of Transportation. If not them, they can point you in the right direction if there is one.