Tech Support Drinking Game, BETA 1

[cjkline83.livejournal.com]

Edit: Finish the bottle if you receive numerous flames for posting the file in a proprietary format...

In honor of lordchaos for starting another tech support drinking game, I've compiled some of the best submissions into an Excel Spreadsheet.

So, here you go:

THE PRINTABLE TECH-SUPPORT DRINKING GAME. (Google Docs)

Important people are not necessarily smart people

[greatblondino.livejournal.com]

(X-posted to personal LJ)

Recently the trustees of my organisation decided they wanted access to our fileshare. They have nothing to do with day-to-day operations, but since they're in charge they got what they wanted. I made them a folder for organisational stuff and told them to save everything into that. First I see a few new folders created, which is fine, I guess they wanted to upload some documents. Then users start complaining that their shortcuts don't work anymore, so I go look and things have been renamed or moved. Everyone here knows where to find what they need so I don't really see the point in moving stuff about, but hey.

( Then what happens? )

ARGH!

[batchfile.livejournal.com]

the next one of you users that just up and walks into the LANroom, which is situated such that the admins have their backs to the door when at the console, and asks me if i know the network is having issues while i am at the console and on the cellphone, will be lucky if i don't do more than just glare and point to the door from whence you asswipes came.

Buahahahah! *Twitch* *Sob*

[the-hunter.livejournal.com]

19 minutes.
Not, in all, a long time in the life of a human.
However, when the 19 minutes is the time it takes for a desktop system to go from pressing the *Power* button to booting to Windows XP Desktop, it is an age!

4 Minutes 27s. About the time it takes me to boil and egg, put it on a plate and have the top off ready for dunking my toasty soldiers in it.
Also, the time it took form clicking on the *Start* button to the menu appearing.

*Twitch*

*Install AVG Free*

*Run AVG Free*

*Wait 1 hour 47 minutes*

*Virus scan 25% complete. Viruses detected:3,327*

*Twitch*

*Phone rings. *
"Hi, it is NotGoldFishGirl. Could you do me a favour while you're messing about with my machine?"

*Twitchtwitch!*

"Could you copy all my music files to cd please?"

*Looks*...106 Gig of music....

*Twitchtwitch*

"Only I just bought a laptop, and I want to sell that machine. Gotta be worth a hundred quid"
*Looks at 5 year old Packard Bell....Twitch Snort Buahahahahahah!*

*Hangs up*

*Starts Nero*

Nero, IIRC, should not take just under 19 minutes to start.....

*Twitch*

*Phone rings*

"Hi! NotGoldFishGirl, again. Could you do me a favour?"

*TWITCH*

"I installed AOL on my new laptop, and can't get it to work. Some words came up, and I can't get it to work"

Um...some words came up? What words?

"Oh, I don't know! I never read that rubbish. I just press OK! It was summat like This disk isn't suitable for Vista. Do you want to continue? So I said yes"

*TWITCHTWITCHTWITCH*

(This was the note found on the body of one Bowen T Hunter, who was found with his head in the gas oven, one hand on a fork pressed into an electrical socket, surrounded by empty pill bottles and hanging from a rope tied to a Packard bell machine that had been thrown out of the window onto the main road. Police suspect suicide)

An explanation.

[the-hunter.livejournal.com]

In spite of my tech posts, I am not a tech support person. I...well, I fell trees for a living, for a local Housing Authority. I got out of Tech Support for reasons of keeping my sanity.
Sometimes I wonder whether I did the right thing...

So...
11:30am.
I am on a grass area in a housing estate.
The area is taped off.
There are cones about, closing off the pathways.
There are *Tree Felling* notices on every path.
I am dressed in the requisite tree felling clothing, all bearing the brand name *Stihl*
I have in my hand a 15" Stihl chainsaw.
It is running.
It is embedded in the trunk of a very obviously dead tree.

Somebody grabs me by my shoulder...

"What do you think you are doing?!?! enquires something wearing a pirate-style bandanna, a suspiciously mobile afghan coat and a worryingly gay-porn beard/'tache combination.
The chap turns out to be A) the chairman of the local housing comittee, and B) furious that he has not been told that we are felling the tree in question.WHY, he wanted to know, are we felling it?

Now, it is *possible*, but unlikely, that in spite of the visual clues, he really did not know what I was doing. However, given that the tree was Very Obviously Dead, leaning hazardously across a childrens play area and a footpath, and shedding large branches onto the path, it would be a pretty stupid person who could not work out why it was being felled.

However, the clincher is this. There are 1,300 houses in this housing estate. all but 40ish are empty. Because everyone is being moved out. because they are bulldozing the entire estate. Including the trees. And redeveloping the area.
And yet this paragon of the community, this intellectual giant among men, this...somewhat mite-infested gay pornstar thought he had to risk his life to save the life of a dead tree. An extinct arbour. It is diseased, deceased and gone. it had shuffled off its mortal coils. It was falling apart around us as we argued!

Fuckwit.

And then...I got a phonecall requiring me to go back to the yard. We have a new piece of equipment. It is a twin tank, 1600 litre bowser system with a massively powerful built-in pressure washer, for cleaning the big communal waste bins. It has been developed to sit on a rack on rollers, and when required it can be winched on to a Transit van, and then winched off again. Today the MD of the company that designed and built the system came to have a look at it. I had to winch it on to the Transit. For the first time ever...

Nice system. Until the cable exerted a force at 90 degrees to the head of the eyebolt that was fastened to the rack system. The eybolt will take a direct tortional load of over 8 tonnes. Turns out, however, that at 90 degrees, it will take rather less. The bolt sheared. The cable, hook, pulley and eyelet followed the direct line of pull. Which, of course, was directly back to the winch. Which, of course, was where I was. So, 4 feet of 1/4" steerl cable wrapped itself at phenomenal speed round my legs, and the eyelet embedded itself an inch deep in the breezeblock wall about 14" from my head!

"It wasn't meant to do that!" said the designer.
"Eeep!", I said.