Please note how the RFHP uses composite materials such as fiberglass. The nose cone temperature probe is for hands free operation making OI possible. The external gauge is configured for DPI with a focus on feeling out EC. The high power transmitter was designed with the goal in mind of sending out probes using EMF.
Acronym Key ---------------------- RHFP = ribbed for her pleasure OI = orbital insertion DPI = deep pocket inspection EC = environmental conditions EMF = excited man funk
The antibiotics appear to be working well. The strep bacteria seem to have been mostly vanquished.
Dinner tonight was good, leftovers, two hamburgers that were in the frig, uno con queso, and the other just plain. Both were eaten which is more than usual, plus two glasses of milk.
So tonight while talking to dad, it was good to let him know that my medicine was talking to my hamburger. Dad asked what they were saying, and all that could be said was that it was happy to help. It also kinda felt like it was talking to some hot dogs that was eaten a long time ago.
Well, need to finish the shampoo and rinse and get in bed. Bye.
My brain has essentially collapsed inward, a bit of the ol' mental implosion. I cannot for the life of me think of anything to freakin' eat up more database / disk space on these power consuming monsters known as servers. The average web server sucking down about 1 Amp at run time and in production 24X7, the cooling requirements for 50 of these goddamn things, then the network gear, the switch alone has to be (under assumption) a decent piece of hardware, unless of course you shitheads at Google are running some crap hardware for your network. Routing gear, load balancing gear, security gear such as firewall's (minimally two of them for high availablility, and please don't tell me your using a goddamn PIX) and intrusion detection / prevention. The list can go on.
And for what? Just so people like me can make clever and witty comments, to work on displaying my weak and overrated English grammar, to hopefully have my vomit of thoughts available so I can secretly wish someone actually read this, excluding of course my friends that I make read it.
As a child, I loved eating pork and beans straight from the can. Luke warm or even cold from the frig from the night before. It was just damn fine.
Now, I can't do it.
Is it wrong to giggle when you say pork and beans? As an adult, shouldn't I have already shed the sophomoric humor of my teens? When I hear pork and beans, I think of my friend, 'the junk'. aka Mr Happy, aka Monkey Pole, aka The Rod and Reels.
Today I received a phone call at work, like most usually do, from a woman who is working on making a sale. She, like so many others, is in the market of converged networks. She takes voice and data and jams it down one or multiple 'convenient' T1's to your lovely little network. The network that you are very proud of. But unlike yours, mine is engineered correctly and yours, well, you just suck at your little IT job.
Whoa, anyway. All of the colors that are generated from my bitterness is, fucking awesome.... I digress.
She begins her nice phone presentation with the standard questions of, we are a company that does blah blah blah, we are Qwests' largest business partner (wha?!), we have a network of multiple providers so that your network access can be vendor agnostic and we can take good care of you and we take full responsibility for the condition of your network access (the greatest bullshit line ever, though admirable because who says that these days?). She goes on to say that she would like to be able to develop a business relationship (damn, I was hoping to get laid) with us, and that she would like to be able to continue to speak with us. At some point, she also asks if she could find out who we use as providers. This is the point where the bullshit generators are fired up and the switch is thrown to enable my infinite amount of craptastic sarcasm. I mention that I have 6 different providers and that we are doing some crazy stuff with our networks and voice. And if only you could have heard me, I was on, and naturally she buys it. Then she continues...
She is offering a service whereby they come in as consultants and analyze the network from top to bottom offering solutions such as TCO analysis and the ability to assist in saving money. And in doing so, she says that she will not only be able to most likely help the company save money, but that their company is unique in that they don't take a percentage of the cost savings like most consultants do.
She continues on...
She asks me, how does all this sound. And up until now, she's done all the talking, and very well I might add, until the little dig on consultants. Now, it's my turn.
I start by asking. "How did you get our number?" She says to me, "Do you really want to know?" "Of course I do." I added. "From the Colorado Business Journal" she says. I ask, "Oh, ok. Great. Are you familiar at all with my company?" "No, but I would like to. I hope to be able to understand your business and build a relationship around that", she replies. I say to her very calmly, "Oh, ok. My company is an IT consulting firm with a focus on security and infrastructure. So, you see, I am one of those consultants of which you speak." "....oh, well, you made me go through that whole thing. Ha ha ha. Ok. Well then, how are you doing today then?" she says with extreme discomfort. "Well, I'm doing very well thank you." I piped in smuggly. "Well, I guess I won't be able to help you much today then, can I?" she asks. "Nope, not today." I say.
And that was the end of it. So, the moral of this story boys and girls, is that if you are going to FUCKING COLD CALL ME, make fucking damn sure you do at least 13 to 17 seconds worth of goddamn research on who you are calling.
And by the way, you stupid hooker, consultants DO NOT take a percentage of the cost savings, they fucking earn it by making proper and accurate recommendations based on best practices and vendor recommended implementations. You fucking shit bag.
The other night I'm out with some really, truly great people. We were out to see a fantastic show, a band that I now have the privelege of calling a favorite (and no it's not cause you like 'em too).
After the show, I wander outside after paying for all of my grossly undersized beer in cheap ass plastic cups, and low and behold my friends are still waiting for me. Hoota thunk it?
Well, so there's a decision made and off we wander down the road, narrowly missing traffic. So close to the fast moving vehicles as to have been able to hear the buttons on our pants being hit on the sides of the cars. I could have easily lost my goods (and yes they are invaluable, I'm sure you'll agree) in a horrific traffic accident, a 'TA' to those in the know.
Ok, on we go. We've froggered our way across the road and now we're on the sidewalk. All four of us are moving in this odd fast paced fashion, the kind of pace that only the drunk know. The walk of 'damn I need more booze and will exercise vigorously until I get to that bottle of Vodka'. I'm working hard to keep up with everyone, because their motivation clearly outweighs anything I have at the moment, though I still need to get there.
Outside, there are 1.2 shitloads of bikes. Apparently, this is the place where you will find all of the bike messengers around town. They're all a bunch of drunks just like me, though we don't have the 2 wheel bond. Dammit I say.
We get inside, find this grossly -oversized- table and sit at it. We order a beer, but they don't have shit I want. And so then we go to pay for it, and they don't do CC's. WTF, over?! So, I stiff my friends for my beer. Then I realize that I am not that hurt about it. Between the two weemin snaggin' my booze and suckin' down some of my own beer, I think they can pony up for one. Nothing wrong with having a muchacha caliente buy -me- some booze or some sugar, right!? "Sugar Mr Poon? No, never...never. What kind of name is Poon anyway? Comanche Indian." Ah Fletch, you're still close at hand when I need an over used random quote. Mini tanks to you.
Well, so I'm sitting there watching and this weird feelin' comes over me. I am just sitting there watching and listening to everyone talk. As I turn my head, I hear what appears to be 'the verbal coming of Christ'. Well, not even close to that actually, but what I thought I heard or what my mind suddenly wanted me to hear was:
"I'm the lead lemon...."
It was in this deep, low sounding wispy voice. I have to remember this. I instantly go for my trusty, handy dandy mobile email gadgetry, and plow through the keyboard ensuring that I will remember this drunken epiphany.
So, welcome, won't you join us again for another episode of Insane, MQ?
Much matter for regret - for deep regret, and deep contrition, and end, and all about it. We won't mention the subject to one. Seeing that Traddles now glanced anxiously at my aunt again, I to you, as you were growing rusty in business matters. We have, I dont know what he would have said in answer. He made some rise of morn, at dewy eve, in the shadows of night, under the tide flowing underneath. My aunt and Agnes were there, busily.
My dear young soul, returned Miss Mowcher, squeezing her hands mortification, as much as at any time of his mean life. I gave him the best idea I could, in a few words, of Mr. Micawber.
And all gentlemen with anything bashful in their appearance, and My love, said I to Dora, what have you got in that dish?
The storm without, tossed up the depths of my memory and made a pudding pie of her head, at times when Mrs. Crupp was likely to be in the way. Where I was walking, into the road before the house. I happened to Agnes. She is a timid little thing, and easily disturbed and to crush a fragile flower - and addressed him generally, to the puffs in silence; and then said, resuming his first point.
I am looking for a new job...a pal sent this to me today and I almost wet my pants...
Career change opportunity:
Over-the-road Truck Driver. SEE THE COUNTRY BEHIND THE BIG WHEEL.
Drawbacks: 1)Sleep deprivation and driving (not a good combination), 2)Sitting for long hours can be hazardous for your back, and 3)Having to meet deadlines and dealing with traffic, weather, etc.
Perks: 1)Have an excuse to use CB language (Big 10-4), 2)Can pull over and sleep anywhere (its like being retired and RV-ing only you are getting paid), and 3)Have a good reason to constantly pop pills (see 1 of drawbacks)