I hardly ever blog anymore. For a while I thought it was because I spent too much time on Twitter, but then I noticed I hardly ever tweet anymore. I thought facebook may be the problem. I do spend quite a bit of time on there interacting with my friends, but I think it's actually apathy.
Yep, apparently I don't really care anymore.
I don't really draw cartoons anymore either. I also noticed I can't think back to the last time I found anything genuinely funny. You know like side-splitting laugh until your belly hurts funny.
I remember times like that. I can recall just a few years ago driving home and Russ Martin was on a tear about something and I thought I was going to wreck because I had tears streaming down my face and couldn't see the road.
Nothing...
I remember how old Richard Pryor records used to make be die laughing. He could make anything funny.
I miss that.
I don't draw, because I'll sketch ideas out and then come back to finish the roughs and ink them and they just aren't funny anymore. I think, why bother? It's a lot of work for a joke that is going to bomb.
My kids still enjoy coloring things I draw for them. I just never get to it anymore.
I'm trying to decide if this is depression or not. It looks like it may be, but I don't feel depressed. I just don't really feel right now.
Maybe I can find an old Richard Pryor routine this afternoon and get some laughs. I'd like that.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
I Is The Dumb And Dumberer Today
Sheesh...
I hate it when I do dumb things and this one was a doozy.
I've been fighting an ongoing case for several weeks now. Things have been extremely busy at work and we've all been going at it like gangbusters to get our work done. Things are so hectic we have to throw some ideas out, read logs or network trace and then scramble to the next case.
It's a young man's game. I'm not young anymore.
Regardless, the case I have been fighting with involved application sharing and slooooooooooow processing. I tried network traces, perfmon traces, client traces... Everything I could think of.
Finally I had the customer break the clients down to a simple switch with only those two machines on it, with them in the same subnet and one connection back to the server. It still was slooooooooooow.
What. The. Fishsticks.
So, I decided to beat my head against the wall this evening and try their antivirus program as invasive as I could make it on my lab to try to make performance suck. IT STILL WORKED!!!!
What the crap? How can their experience be so bad? What could possibly be making that thing suck so hard? What could be limiting the performance? It was like the bandwidth was throttled down to nothing...
Ahhhhhh CRAP!
You may have guessed it by now. In Lync you can limit the bandwidth you allow between clients in certain scenarios. This is so you don't have Fred the Janitor hogging all the bandwidth with Sue in Accounting doing video chats when Mr. Big is needing to do his conference call with the shareholders.
My customer had limited the bandwidth for his clients through a policy. A quick look back through the logs and I confirmed it.
"What took you so long to find something so obvious?" you man ask me. It is all in presentation. The description of the failure was two VERY specific scenarios. I got so wrapped up in those, I didn't see the obvious point staring me in the face.
Never, ever, take anything for granted. *sigh*
I hate it when I do dumb things and this one was a doozy.
I've been fighting an ongoing case for several weeks now. Things have been extremely busy at work and we've all been going at it like gangbusters to get our work done. Things are so hectic we have to throw some ideas out, read logs or network trace and then scramble to the next case.
It's a young man's game. I'm not young anymore.
Regardless, the case I have been fighting with involved application sharing and slooooooooooow processing. I tried network traces, perfmon traces, client traces... Everything I could think of.
Finally I had the customer break the clients down to a simple switch with only those two machines on it, with them in the same subnet and one connection back to the server. It still was slooooooooooow.
What. The. Fishsticks.
So, I decided to beat my head against the wall this evening and try their antivirus program as invasive as I could make it on my lab to try to make performance suck. IT STILL WORKED!!!!
What the crap? How can their experience be so bad? What could possibly be making that thing suck so hard? What could be limiting the performance? It was like the bandwidth was throttled down to nothing...
Ahhhhhh CRAP!
You may have guessed it by now. In Lync you can limit the bandwidth you allow between clients in certain scenarios. This is so you don't have Fred the Janitor hogging all the bandwidth with Sue in Accounting doing video chats when Mr. Big is needing to do his conference call with the shareholders.
My customer had limited the bandwidth for his clients through a policy. A quick look back through the logs and I confirmed it.
"What took you so long to find something so obvious?" you man ask me. It is all in presentation. The description of the failure was two VERY specific scenarios. I got so wrapped up in those, I didn't see the obvious point staring me in the face.
Never, ever, take anything for granted. *sigh*
Friday, March 01, 2013
My Eyes Are Bleeding From The Stupid
When I work sometimes I'll listen to podcasts to pass the time (believe it or not, going through several Gigs worth of logs can be mind numbing after a while). I've found a couple I like such as Better Off Undead (http://betteroffundeadshow.com/), The Self Publishing Podcast (http://selfpublishingpodcast.com/) and The No Sleep Podcast (http://nosleepaudio.podbean.com/) which are on my subscription list.
I also enjoy listening to conspiracy stuff from time to time and I had one today that I finally deleted from my hard drive because I couldn't take the stupidity anymore. It's The Hagman and Hagman Report (no link, they don't deserve it).
Not only are they constantly going off the air because they keep screwing up their board and messing with things mid show (and blaming it on the government because they're getting the truth out) but the podcast I listened to today had a 9-11 truther on. If you want to argue who was responsible for taking the WTC down or even if explosives were used, OK, fine, I understand that much. But this lady not only argued the planes hitting the buildings didn't take them down she argued the building was destroyed by some unknown technology which left no rubble, only dust.
*sigh*
The grand moment came when she talked about the WTC "Surfer" who rode the building down as FACT. A quick check of Snopes (http://www.snopes.com/rumors/survivor.asp) lists two guys who survived who weren't on the ground, but they were simply luck to not have been crushed and hardly "Surfed" the building.
Adding to the masterpiece she attempted to reason that the seismic events weren't large enough to be from the collapse of the buildings, so they had to be disintegrated and my eyes stared bleeding. She was using the FULL MASS of each building as a guideline. The buildings collapsed in on themselves; the numbers she used would have been equal to the buildings "Jumping" up in the air and falling back into place.
Further proof Darwin was wrong because the gene pool should have cleaned out by now. I proudly present them with "The Polished Turd Award" for this week!
I also enjoy listening to conspiracy stuff from time to time and I had one today that I finally deleted from my hard drive because I couldn't take the stupidity anymore. It's The Hagman and Hagman Report (no link, they don't deserve it).
 |
| Live from Mom's basement! |
Not only are they constantly going off the air because they keep screwing up their board and messing with things mid show (and blaming it on the government because they're getting the truth out) but the podcast I listened to today had a 9-11 truther on. If you want to argue who was responsible for taking the WTC down or even if explosives were used, OK, fine, I understand that much. But this lady not only argued the planes hitting the buildings didn't take them down she argued the building was destroyed by some unknown technology which left no rubble, only dust.
 |
| Nothing to see here... Only dust... Move along. |
*sigh*
The grand moment came when she talked about the WTC "Surfer" who rode the building down as FACT. A quick check of Snopes (http://www.snopes.com/rumors/survivor.asp) lists two guys who survived who weren't on the ground, but they were simply luck to not have been crushed and hardly "Surfed" the building.
Adding to the masterpiece she attempted to reason that the seismic events weren't large enough to be from the collapse of the buildings, so they had to be disintegrated and my eyes stared bleeding. She was using the FULL MASS of each building as a guideline. The buildings collapsed in on themselves; the numbers she used would have been equal to the buildings "Jumping" up in the air and falling back into place.
Further proof Darwin was wrong because the gene pool should have cleaned out by now. I proudly present them with "The Polished Turd Award" for this week!
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Seriously Dog, No Means No!
I really like THE WIFE's little ankle-biter dogs. They are named Gizmo and Gadget and are a pair of Japanese Chins. Gizmo is the sweet loveable little girl and Gadget is the dumb as a hammer little boy.
Gizmo is a cuddler, she loves to climb up on you and curl up while you scratch her tummy.
Gadget likes to immediately barge in while you are cuddling with Gizmo and stand on you while demanding you STOP PETTING Gizmo and PET HIM NOW! He shoves his nose and paws in between Gizmo and the two legged love dispenser trying to intercede and hog all those lovin's for himself.
Keep in mind that when I'm laying on my back with a little cuddle dog on me, he is standing on whatever part of my body he can get a place. Chest, stomach, head...
testicles.
You'd think a little dog that weighs nine pounds or so wouldn't be a big deal, but the little fart's feet feel like they're pushing through to my backbone while he stands there showing his nose into my hand...
and licking me. Ewwww. I HATE THAT!
There is one thing I've never cared for and that is being licked. Don't like it, no sir, not one bit. I've never understood people that will let Sparky or whatever they named their beast lick all over their face, hands and mouth.
Yeah, the one that really gets me is the mouth. Especially when people kiss their dogs on the mouth.
Why does that bother me so much?
So there these folks are practically French kissing their Asthmahound Chihuahua when the little dust mop has just gotten out of the litter box.
For some reason kitty litter must taste like sugar sprinkles on doughnuts because that mixed with the flavor of feline-processed cat food (ie: turds) is the dog food equivalent of meth. Yeah bring home some "Old Roy" dry mix from Wal-Mart and they'll look at you like you're rooting for the Browns to go to the Super Bowl. Drop a steaming hot cat turd in the floor though? Man, that's EATIN'!
Then the fur-covered turd munchers want to come and give ME kisses? On my MOUTH?
Oh heeeeeeck no!
I love you dog, but no means no.
Gizmo is a cuddler, she loves to climb up on you and curl up while you scratch her tummy.
Gadget likes to immediately barge in while you are cuddling with Gizmo and stand on you while demanding you STOP PETTING Gizmo and PET HIM NOW! He shoves his nose and paws in between Gizmo and the two legged love dispenser trying to intercede and hog all those lovin's for himself.
Keep in mind that when I'm laying on my back with a little cuddle dog on me, he is standing on whatever part of my body he can get a place. Chest, stomach, head...
testicles.
You'd think a little dog that weighs nine pounds or so wouldn't be a big deal, but the little fart's feet feel like they're pushing through to my backbone while he stands there showing his nose into my hand...
and licking me. Ewwww. I HATE THAT!
There is one thing I've never cared for and that is being licked. Don't like it, no sir, not one bit. I've never understood people that will let Sparky or whatever they named their beast lick all over their face, hands and mouth.
Yeah, the one that really gets me is the mouth. Especially when people kiss their dogs on the mouth.
Why does that bother me so much?
 |
| ...yeah, that ain't chocolate |
So there these folks are practically French kissing their Asthmahound Chihuahua when the little dust mop has just gotten out of the litter box.
For some reason kitty litter must taste like sugar sprinkles on doughnuts because that mixed with the flavor of feline-processed cat food (ie: turds) is the dog food equivalent of meth. Yeah bring home some "Old Roy" dry mix from Wal-Mart and they'll look at you like you're rooting for the Browns to go to the Super Bowl. Drop a steaming hot cat turd in the floor though? Man, that's EATIN'!
Then the fur-covered turd munchers want to come and give ME kisses? On my MOUTH?
Oh heeeeeeck no!
I love you dog, but no means no.
Monday, January 28, 2013
The Phoneman Adventures - Episode 1
Years ago I worked on a team that installed a phone system for the City County Building in Knoxville, Tennessee. The City County Building is like the town courthouse of steroids as it held most of the city and county offices, courts, the city jail and also the independent public management department.
The important part of this story is the city jail. We always enjoyed visiting the jail for service calls, kind of the way we enjoyed visiting relatives who pinch your cheeks and reeks of scotch, Marlboros and cologne.
In short, we didn't.
It wasn't because we didn't like and appreciate the folks who worked in the jail. They had a tough job and did it well, we weren't particularly fond of the "Residents" of the jail. While filled with a mix of weekend drunk drivers, petty crooks and other various miscreants, the thing that bothered us most was we were there...
With tool pouches...
You see, it's hard to do repair work without tools and although ANY knife would quickly be confiscated from a visitor to the jail, we were free to walk among the inmates with leather pouches filled with technician death swinging from our hips.
Screwdrivers, pinch tools, pliers, hooks, wire, snips etc... were our tools of trade and they all made wonderful weapons if used improperly.
The things which kept us in the proper frame of mind was our use of gallows humor to pass the days. We enjoyed razzing each other endlessly over our failures and problems. We also enjoyed telling each other the stories of our trips to the jail.
One story involved a group that ran a new phone line for the staff. When it came time to leave the guys were checking their tools to make sure everything was there. One of our guys named Curtis noticed he had a screwdriver missing. A quick look around didn't turn it up, so Curtis turned to the guard who was escorting them and said, "I'm sure it'll turn up sooner or later." The guard then replied, "Yeah, sticking out of our back."
Needless to say after a MUCH more inspired search the screwdriver was found where it was left, above a ceiling tile.
A second story involved a set of ladies who were mapping out the location and numbers of all the phones in the jail. One of the ladies realized she had forgotten to declare a small knife when processing in.
I need to clarify the term, "Knife" here. Knife paints a picture of a deadly killing utensil. This "Knife" was about an inch long when closed and contained a tiny blade, a tiny set of scissors, a tiny nail file and a tiny toothpick. We had gotten them as gifts from the company and they came on a keying. Most of us used them to clean our fingernails and occasionally use them as screwdrivers when wiring phone jacks when we were too lazy to walk back to our trucks for tools.
With that said, she tapped a guy on the shoulder and told him of her mistake. She held the teeny, tiny, itty, bitty knife in the palm of her hand to show him. (keep in mind the first story about out "Tool Pouches of DEATH" I just shared).
The man turned white, broke out in a sweat and then snatched the "Knife" from the lady's hand. He clutched the contraband weapon in his meaty paw, enveloping it in a kind of flesh container to protect it from seizure, and holding the meaty paw filled with tiny death high in the air, immediately marched out of the jail.
Yeah... drama...
The important part of this story is the city jail. We always enjoyed visiting the jail for service calls, kind of the way we enjoyed visiting relatives who pinch your cheeks and reeks of scotch, Marlboros and cologne.
In short, we didn't.
It wasn't because we didn't like and appreciate the folks who worked in the jail. They had a tough job and did it well, we weren't particularly fond of the "Residents" of the jail. While filled with a mix of weekend drunk drivers, petty crooks and other various miscreants, the thing that bothered us most was we were there...
With tool pouches...
You see, it's hard to do repair work without tools and although ANY knife would quickly be confiscated from a visitor to the jail, we were free to walk among the inmates with leather pouches filled with technician death swinging from our hips.
Screwdrivers, pinch tools, pliers, hooks, wire, snips etc... were our tools of trade and they all made wonderful weapons if used improperly.
The things which kept us in the proper frame of mind was our use of gallows humor to pass the days. We enjoyed razzing each other endlessly over our failures and problems. We also enjoyed telling each other the stories of our trips to the jail.
One story involved a group that ran a new phone line for the staff. When it came time to leave the guys were checking their tools to make sure everything was there. One of our guys named Curtis noticed he had a screwdriver missing. A quick look around didn't turn it up, so Curtis turned to the guard who was escorting them and said, "I'm sure it'll turn up sooner or later." The guard then replied, "Yeah, sticking out of our back."
Needless to say after a MUCH more inspired search the screwdriver was found where it was left, above a ceiling tile.
A second story involved a set of ladies who were mapping out the location and numbers of all the phones in the jail. One of the ladies realized she had forgotten to declare a small knife when processing in.
I need to clarify the term, "Knife" here. Knife paints a picture of a deadly killing utensil. This "Knife" was about an inch long when closed and contained a tiny blade, a tiny set of scissors, a tiny nail file and a tiny toothpick. We had gotten them as gifts from the company and they came on a keying. Most of us used them to clean our fingernails and occasionally use them as screwdrivers when wiring phone jacks when we were too lazy to walk back to our trucks for tools.
With that said, she tapped a guy on the shoulder and told him of her mistake. She held the teeny, tiny, itty, bitty knife in the palm of her hand to show him. (keep in mind the first story about out "Tool Pouches of DEATH" I just shared).
The man turned white, broke out in a sweat and then snatched the "Knife" from the lady's hand. He clutched the contraband weapon in his meaty paw, enveloping it in a kind of flesh container to protect it from seizure, and holding the meaty paw filled with tiny death high in the air, immediately marched out of the jail.
Yeah... drama...
Friday, January 25, 2013
Transitions
Happy New Year!
Hey, how have you been?
Yeah, um, I know I used to write in this blog. Yeah, I used to draw cartoons. I know they were kind of funny sometimes.
I take this moment to apologize to the folks that occasionally got a laugh or two over me losing my mind over irate techs, family insanity, poop and stupid cartoons. I decided to change jobs two years ago and I went from using 10% of my brain and having at least 50% free time to using 100% of my brain. I guess I still have free time as I watch football... and... yeah, that's about it.
I have spent the last two years completely learning a whole new support system while working. In tech support you are supposed to be the guy with the answers. The larger the company you work for, the more true this is.
I am finally feeling like I kind of belong. I don't feel like total dead weight.
Like when my boss talked about how other companies would be excited to hire me, all I could think was he was hoping they would.
Anyway, I plan on spending less time being nice on Facebook, and more time being my normal, twisted self.
I hope you'll join me.
Hey, how have you been?
Yeah, um, I know I used to write in this blog. Yeah, I used to draw cartoons. I know they were kind of funny sometimes.
I take this moment to apologize to the folks that occasionally got a laugh or two over me losing my mind over irate techs, family insanity, poop and stupid cartoons. I decided to change jobs two years ago and I went from using 10% of my brain and having at least 50% free time to using 100% of my brain. I guess I still have free time as I watch football... and... yeah, that's about it.
I have spent the last two years completely learning a whole new support system while working. In tech support you are supposed to be the guy with the answers. The larger the company you work for, the more true this is.
I am finally feeling like I kind of belong. I don't feel like total dead weight.
Like when my boss talked about how other companies would be excited to hire me, all I could think was he was hoping they would.
Anyway, I plan on spending less time being nice on Facebook, and more time being my normal, twisted self.
I hope you'll join me.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Holiday Drinking
OK, so technically this is the day after Christmas so it isn't a holiday unless you're in Canada. If you're in Canada happy Boxing Day to you.
As for me today is the day after Christmas, also known as The Day My Dogs Continually Take A Dump On My Carpet Day.
OK, so as one of my Facebook friends keeps telling me, they aren't really "Doggy." I can't argue too much with that. Seriously, look at them:
Yes, to paraphrase her, "They look like cats." Well, these so-called cats have been taking dump after dump on my carpet this holiday season. Seriously, they are just dogfood processing factories where their only product is poop... and production is in overtime.
I know a normal dog's digestive system involves "Eat" followed shortly thereafter by "Poop." This is a dog thing. Cats are apparently embarrassed by the need to go make dookie (suspiciously like your aunt Frannie... just saying) so they hide in a "Box" and then cover up the evidence.
These so called "Cat-Like Dogs" not only do not hide their poop, they display it with pride. Usually positioning it in the middle of the most trafficked area of my home. Not only is this annoying, imagine the magic of Christmas being spoiled by the aroma of canine poo wafting through your home.
Yeah, takes away doesn't it.
Plus adding to the love of the cat/dog mixture or cross breed or whatever the crap they are (they are Japanese Chins, but go with me here, I'm on a tear here) they eat every three minutes (the cat side) and poop immediately afterwards (the dog side). So over a sixty minute period they can process a metric crapton of poop.
Anyway, so as I clean up poo at three minute intervals, please keep me in your prayers as I have decided the last Zima in the back of the fridge is calling me. I don't have a drinking problem so don't worry about that. Poop is my only problem, so just pray I do not bar-b-que the dogs.
Anyway, Merry Christmas to all my friends on the internet, or as law enforcement refers to you "My Stalkers," may you have a wonderful week and a wonderful New Year. My lack of sanity should result in more blogging and tweeting.
Hopefully more drawing too.
As for me today is the day after Christmas, also known as The Day My Dogs Continually Take A Dump On My Carpet Day.
OK, so as one of my Facebook friends keeps telling me, they aren't really "Doggy." I can't argue too much with that. Seriously, look at them:
 |
| Look at these steely-eyed man eaters. Grrrrr. |
I know a normal dog's digestive system involves "Eat" followed shortly thereafter by "Poop." This is a dog thing. Cats are apparently embarrassed by the need to go make dookie (suspiciously like your aunt Frannie... just saying) so they hide in a "Box" and then cover up the evidence.
These so called "Cat-Like Dogs" not only do not hide their poop, they display it with pride. Usually positioning it in the middle of the most trafficked area of my home. Not only is this annoying, imagine the magic of Christmas being spoiled by the aroma of canine poo wafting through your home.
Yeah, takes away doesn't it.
Plus adding to the love of the cat/dog mixture or cross breed or whatever the crap they are (they are Japanese Chins, but go with me here, I'm on a tear here) they eat every three minutes (the cat side) and poop immediately afterwards (the dog side). So over a sixty minute period they can process a metric crapton of poop.
 |
| Not actual poop, these are some cookies a friend who shall remain nameless made. Ha ha... I'm laughing... really... |
Anyway, Merry Christmas to all my friends on the internet, or as law enforcement refers to you "My Stalkers," may you have a wonderful week and a wonderful New Year. My lack of sanity should result in more blogging and tweeting.
Hopefully more drawing too.
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