LowComDom Performances Presents
The Crapolla According to Fek'Lar
You Know You're DOOMED When...
four Vice Presidents invite you to the same meeting.
You've stumbled onto another issue of The Crapolla, a journal written for software professionals. No not the managers; I mean the people who do the work.
This Crapolla is sponsored by...
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In This Issue...
Take your medication now! I'm actually going to say something nice about a Micro$oft product!
I think to myself, "There's an opportunity here." I get home and phone up the local chapter of Greenpeace. The next day I see Terilyn Joe doing a stand up at a protest outside the South Bay seafood company.
Isn't the telephone a wonderful invention?
You all know how I feel about the Redmond Company. I think it embodies all that is bad about capitalism. If Bill Gates went to a fancy dress party as a Robber Baron, he wouldn't have to find a costume.
I hate to admit this, but Microsoft I.M. has a feature or two that I really like. It's not the messaging; it's the traffic reports. Starting at 4 PM every day little windows pop up in the corner telling me where the latest wreck occurred. I have two ways to get home. A little advanced warning really helps. The other feature I really like is the web page that tells me the price of gas at all the service stations in my zip code.
Now, it's not that these are terribly difficult tasks to do. It's just that I hadn't seen people use the web for this previously.
There. I said some thing nice about those Micro$oft people. Happy?
Recently, I was forced to get on an airplane and fly to Austin, Texas on business. Considering this was my first flight since a bunch of guys decided that God had created them to kill the other people God had created, I decided to travel light.
I arrived three hours early which is a complete waste of time since it left me two and a half hours to kill after I found a seat at the gate. But the truly moronic bit of flying was the mentality of the people working airport security.
The first step in airport security is to go to the counter and get your seat assignment. I was traveling under an E-Ticket, which, if you think about it, is a bad name for what it is. Space Mountain was an E-Ticket ride. So was the Haunted Mansion. Equating an airplane ride with either of these is unwise in my opinion. (If you don't know what I was talking about just then, consider yourself too young to speak to me in everyday street conversation.)
At the counter I was asked to show my ID and asked the three big questions about who had been messing with my bag. No problem here. Next, I head for the non-invasive search.
The search is somewhat less offensive than trying to leave either Costco or Fry's. You dump your bag on a conveyor belt for X-raying, and then step through a magnetic loop. Of course since I had keys, a wallet with magnetic strips, and pocket change, I quickly dumped these into a small plastic cup and handed it to the Ph.d. running the magnetic loop.
"Oh! You forgot to put these on the conveyor belt."
"Huh? You want me to put keys and change through the X-ray machine?"
"I'm pretty sure they're going to come up positive for metal."
"They have to go through the X-ray machine."
At this point her brain locked up, and I just tossed everything into the X-ray machine. After all, I didn't want to waste my two and a half hour wait arguing to a moron who was backed up by a guy with an M-16.
New iMac Out of This World Design!
Out of Ideas, Space Alien Jobs Now Cannibalizing His Flying Saucer!
Let's play, "Who said this?"
Heard in the halls of various software companies.
"What are you doing???"
"We're playing chess. You're the pawn."
"You'd be disappointed if I let you off the hook."
"Why does your shirt say, 'Runs With Scissors?'"
"It's my Navajo name."
"Mine is 'Smoking Bong'."
"If my car worked as moronically as your web site, not only would I be dead, but I'd be all cross about it!"
"You throw like a girl."
"I AM a girl!"
"I'm almost out of Halloween candy. Soon, I'll have to start eating my Christmas candy."
"Have you ever eaten oysters on the half shell? It's like eating ocean flavored Jell-O."
Looks like Willow Road is packed again.
(The Last Honest Geek)
Remember: The Crapolla contains my personal opinions. That's right they're mine, so get your own! And you kids get off my lawn! This whole mess is copyright © 2002 by LowComDom Performances, all rights reserved. Wanna send this to your friends? Go ahead and pass out the URL.
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