Yet Another Great Email Address

[toxico.livejournal.com]

Standard format: First Initial, Last Name

User name: Stefani Pitcock

Yeah. I want to ask if she was hired from 4chan Temp Staffing or something.



Also, several months ago I received a request to set up a user with an ID of cajones. Last week, I received a request to terminate her access.

I closed the ticket with "User has been cut off."

Argle..

[amynnah.livejournal.com]

I think the Scourge figured out an intelligence-lowering potion and dumped it into everyone's water supply... or at least in my town...

Had a user just call... I had done an NT password reset on her earlier, and she ended up calling back. Recap: Helldesk for a hospital.

Call went something like this:
"I can't log into my laptop or my PC! What gives?"
I pull up her info, looked for a lockout, when she says, "Oh wait, that new password you gave me earlier worked. My old password doesn't work anymore?"
/face. /palm.

Why is the rum gone?

From the school of "you couldn't make this up"

[jcaswell.livejournal.com]

This morning, one of the teaching assistants came in to our office. She's got a USB stick she's been saving all her work to since forever (no matter how often we tell people to put things on the sodding network they won't bloody do it), and has lost it. She's not totally sure she had it in work on Friday, but thinks there's a good chance. No problem there, we'll keep an eye out for it and get it back to her if it turns up. And then she said "can you get the work that was on it back if it doesn't turn up?"

Somehow we all managed to keep from laughing until she'd gone on her way.

an open letter: no, that is NOT my job

[jimbojones.livejournal.com]

No, it is NOT my job to remove scumware from your computer as fast as you can fucking install it. My job is to facilitate the productivity of this company. This may involve removing scumware from your computer, it may involve locking your computer down so fucking tight you can't get out to the internet without a notarized order from your boss presented in triplicate, or it may involve removing YOU from your computer and putting someone ELSE there in your place.

I have the luxury of a job in which I can speak quite freely; a luxury which I take direct advantage of. Be assured that when you shrilly claim that you "didn't DO anything" and then demand to know "what did I DO" in regards to the many, MANY layers of scumware, malware, proxies, and cloud servers on your computer, my answer "you were dicking around on the internet" is not some sort of euphemism. It is the direct, blunt, succinct, and true answer to your question. When I expound upon that, in response to further noises out of your gullet that sound like an asthmatic circular saw hitting a rusty nail, and tell you that you were "looking for funny shit because you were bored" and "opening the crap your friends send you when THEY'RE bored", that too is no metaphor or simile - I cannot state it any more plainly; no Captain Crunch or Ovaltine decoder ring is required.

YOU, on the other hand, are less than honest, you are less than direct, you are other than forthright. However, I have been doing this a long time, and I am aware that what you are actually asking is "what exact site did I go to which gave me this problem?" This is an unanswerable question, of course; the fundamental disconnect is that you wish to live in the hypothetical world where the internet is made of magic and bunnies and sunshine, and this one single place had some AIDS and fail in it. What you want is for me to tell you where that one site which caused eight different layers of proxies and redirects and application servers to appear on your computer is, so that in the future you can avoid it, and only randomly trawl the entire rest of the internet. Where, of course, you will gambol and cavort and swim like Scrooge McDuck in his vaults full of gold in bunnies, magic, sunshine, etc.

Admittedly, that last paragraph is not a paragraph which I said to you today. But not because I am afraid to, not because I am too passive-aggressive to; no, because I've fucking said it all before and you're clearly not fucking listening and don't want to listen. "Fuck reality", you think, "I like my delusion, now why won't you just fucking make it REAL for me? Go on, wave your magic wand."

An observer might argue that trying to craft reality from delusion is the ultimate grace of humanity. I, however, would retort that it is not a grace unless you're trying to make it real by your own fucking effort, not by staring at an IT manager or consultant like you're god damned roadkill, saying the same stupid shit over and over as though a poorly-phrased question can define reality by way of being impossible to accurately answer.