Thursday, October 06, 2005

Dell-eeelllaajawalla Computer Corporation

Okay so I ordered a laptop from Dell a while back and have been pestering Dell, or at least their customer service monkeys for the last couple weeks as it is well past it's delivery date.

The other day I call up and talk to, I forgot his name, it's probably mohammed, but anyway... After harrassing him for a while and having him actually call some people to check on the thing, which is far more than any of the other 30 or so have done, he gives me some contact information. The information is for his supervisor, who will be my case manager, his name is Paul. I get an extension and everything, which is fantastic, what more can I ask for. I kindly thank him and bless him with many cows, etc.

I start to think for a minute about this..... where did a guy named Paul come into the picture? This is Dell, Dell people, Dell, as in "Dude, you're getting indian customer service and tech support".

A couple days blur by for me and I check my e-mail. I'm shocked to see an e-mail from Dell's Customer Relations and Sand Removal Department, it has all of the contact information for my case manager in it, you will find it below:

Case Manager Name: Paul
Phone number: 1-800-456-3355
Case Manager Extension: 5772934
Case Manager Email:chikiley_karunadeep@dell.com

So much for Paul. Shit people, has this world gotten so fucked up that when you call tech support you have to be given a fake name just because people can't spell Indian names or something? Shit, just fucking number them, "my managers name is 34265" that's a lot easier. Check out the foamy dammit.

Click here for Foamy

What the ?

Okay so first off, A, I'm sorry for being so harsh on you about the geography thing, it's just that any competant geography teacher should have taught you about the chunnel which allows people to drive from England to the rest of Europe.... I just had to test you and torture you for a while.

Second thing for the day:

WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THESE FRIGGIN BLOG SPAMMERS?!?!?!?!?!

if you check out the comments on the last post you get some bullshit poetry crap, etc. You people need to find something better to do dammit. Fuck, I don't care if you want to get a job and put your makeup on in the car on the way to work, just stop fucking up my blog with your horseshit. If you want to spread horseshit around, move to texas dammit.

How long does it take to drive from England to Rome?

Yes. I was indeed asked this question today. I'm sure you all can just imagine the look on my face when this happened. About 30 minutes prior I was called by a customer for an urgent problem, apparently he cannot play World Of Warcraft between 6 and 7 pm every day...

My advice for the day:

1. Better geography teachers.
2. Moving your ass out of your parents basement, or in this guys case, parents trailer.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Human Stupidity, The Only Truly Renewable Resource

So I stumbled across this post on Fark today.... It's the Basic Laws of Human Stupidity. We've all seen it, from the idiot on the freeway putting on her makeup on the way to work in the morning to quite simply the reason most PC savvy people have jobs, fixing the problems caused by the stupidity of others.

Note: I am in no way claiming to be exempt from this rule, I have on MANY occasions proven myself to be so utterly and completely stupid that I have actually qualified for the term "fucktard" but at least I still rank above the term "newbie".

Now while I skipped the parts of the article that were un-important, like the author, etc, I still found the most useful parts to be pretty entertaining: Always and inevitably everyone underestimates the number of stupid individuals in circulation.

Does anyone have the link to recommend someone for the nobel prize? *See Note again.

Hold Engineers Responsible for Poor Design?

The other day I decided to take a nice weekend trip to the cabin up in Prescott. As many of you are familiar with, to get to Prescott from Phoenix, you have to go through Cordes Junction, you may not be so familiar with the pathetic layout of the ramp however. The ramp is basically designed to allow traffic to easily flow from I-17 northbound to the 69 heading into Prescott and vice-versa, if you want to go from cordes junction south or north however things get weird...

From Cordes Junction if you want to go North to Flagstaff, you need to make a left and head southbound and go through one of those weird U turn style ramps that everyone in their right mind hates, which brings up the next point: never go to New Jersey. Anyway, on my drive up to Prescott this weekend two people in a mercedes were killed by a bus because the driver of the Mercedes, like most drivers of cars purchased in North Scottsdale, didn't bother to look left before turning left and got a close-up view of the front-end of a tour bus doing 50 mph, and probably thought to himself "How dare he not stop for me! I'm in a Mercedes!". Anyway, back to my point, that guy is dead, and in reality that could have been prevented, either by not following the Scottsdale-asshole-small...nevermind, stereotype or if the engineer that designed the ramp simply designed it so a car at a stop sign wouldn't have to make a southbound left turn to go north anyway, in front of traffic heading northbound at 50+ mph....

So my thought is this: should there be some form of penalty for poor roadway design costing lives, or worse causing the inevitable 4-7pm I-10 near the tunnel traffic jam? In the case of the daily jams near the tunnel on the 10, I think that guy should be horsewhipped, beaten, forced to drive home in through his own monstrosity for a year during rush hour, then taken out back and shot. As for the ramp at Cordes Junction, perhaps even just a fine to the engineering firm? I know that kinda sounds like I'm buying into the lawyer mumbo jumbo, but I will state here that I absolutely hate lawyers.... I'm just recommending a way to enforce some quality control.... Or at the very least a way to add some bleach to the gene pool....like we should do with lawyers for example.