Dear Abby

13 11 2006

Dear Abby,

I’ve never written to you before, but I really need your advice on what could be a crucial decision. I’ve suspected for some time now that my wife has been cheating on me.

The usual signs… phone rings but if I answer, the caller hangs up. My wife has been going out with the girls a lot recently although when I ask their names she always says, “Just some friends from work, you don’t know them.”

I always stay awake to look out for her taxi coming home, but she always walks down the drive. Although I can hear a car driving off, as if she has gotten out of the car round the corner. Why? Maybe she wasn’t in a taxi? I once picked her cell phone up just to see what time it was and she went berserk and screamed that I should never touch her phone again and why was I checking up on her.

Anyway, I have never approached the subject with my wife. I think deep down I just didn’t want to know the truth, but last night she went out again and I decided to really check on her.

I decided I was going to park my Harley Davidson motorcycle next to the garage and then hide behind it so I could get a good view of the whole street when she came home. It was at that moment, crouching behind my Harley, that I noticed that the valve covers on my engine seemed to be leaking a little oil.

Is this something I can fix myself or should I take it back to the dealer?

Thanks,

Bob



Goodbye, old friend…

13 11 2006

An email sent to my coworkers last week. I was just being a smartass, but people seemed to like it.
:)

In late 2004, we were introduced to someone who made the lives of our fledgling company much easier. Today, that old friend is leaving us for good. He had some hard times, but he also worked hard. He was a dedicated servant to the company and weathered many a storm. Sometimes he was powerless, but he always stood fast and held firm. He never questioned us, he never complained. He just did as he was told.

Please say goodbye to our friend, USMail.

At the time he joined us, we were hampered by communications issues. Our email was handled by the UK, and if a server went down there, we were without email, helpless and alone. We had simple POP accounts. No mail backups, no archives. We didn’t have shared calendars or tasks…no public folders in which to place our beloved documents.

And then, one day, something magical happened. We found a bag of magic beans and traded them to Dell for a new computer. Within a few days, we had an enterprise level Exchange server up and running. We could email each other and share documents and see each other’s calendars. It was beautiful. USMail was beautiful.

Things weren’t always easy for him. There were occasions where he would lash out at us, shutting down inexplicably or refusing to deliver mail. Temperamental? Yes. Choosy? Yes. Lovable? Always.

He had his bouts with several problems. There were some problems with his memory, but we took care of those together, as a team. Sometimes he would pass out, lying helpless until I arrived in the middle of the night to revive him. We were close, USMail and I.

And then, around December of last year, he had sudden hot flashes.
The prognosis was not good. After an emergency operation, his brains were removed and transplanted into another body. Even this body was not perfect though. It was melted on top, and the front of this body was so warped that he couldn’t open his DVD drive. I mean, his mouth.

Yet, even after the operation, he hung in there. He rose above his impediments and carried us through 2006 bravely. Recently, however, he was having more issues. He gained a tremendous amount of weight and he was having trouble keeping up even a mild pace.

So, the decision was made to put him down. Preparations were made. We had a replacement, Sparky, ready to go. Sparky was younger, more powerful, and dare I say it? Sexier.

We comforted USMail the best we could, but even as the end grew nearer, we could tell he was in pain.

Last weekend, Allen and I sat here beside him for some 36 hours. Consoling him, trying to ease the pain. We successfully removed the excess weight he had put on, and he rested peacefully throughout this week.

But last night, at approximately 7:30pm, our friend is gone.

I know this is hard to accept, but you have to believe that he is in a better place. A place where servers are allowed to run free…a place where there is unlimited bandwidth, and hard drive space is cheaper than air. A place where Microsoft Exchange isn’t part of some destructive symbiotic relationship. A place where fires don’t happen and innocent mail servers aren’t maimed for life.

A better place.

Please take a moment today and think of USMail. Our departed and loyal servant.

It’s funnier in context, but please feel free to laugh uproariously even if you don’t get it.



You slagging, butch furburger!

9 11 2006

At work, one of the software packages we use on our email server is GFI Mail Security. it’s a great package with some awesome features, including one that will scan incoming/outgoing emails for certain phrases that could be offensive and lead to HR/legal issues.
There are presets for certain criteria, like ‘racist’, ’sexual’ and ‘profanity’.

So, in profanity, one would, at the least, expect the ‘big 7‘, right? Nope, sorry. You only get 1.5 of them. But they do include some words that, to be frank, should be outlawed only because they are not really profane, but just stupid. Here’s the default list:

butch
cooter
furburger
dipshit
dyke
jerk (The horror!)
loser (Sigh…)
pecker (hehehe)
piss (there’s your one)
retard (That’s in my job title, actually )
slag

I know what most of them mean, and I have been some of them also, but seriously, c’mon. That’s what i get for $2000 worth of software? I want profanity that makes me blush for that kind of money!



Favorite lyrics…

1 11 2006

Since I don’t have anything interesting to say, i think I will just start posting my favorite lyrics from songs. This is from Pink Floyd ‘One of my turns’, on ‘The Wall’:

Day after day
Love turns gray
Like the skin on the dying man
And night after night
We pretend it’s all right
But I have grown older
And you have grown colder
And nothing is very much fun, anymore
And I can feel
One of all my turns coming on
I feel
Cold as a razor blade
Tight as a tourniquet
Dry as a funeral drum