StarDestroyer.Net BBS

YOUR DRIVER: I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you're all Bronco'd-out today...

PEYTON THE STRIPPER: Pre-Season home-opener!

YOUR DRIVER: You know they lost, right?

PEYTON THE STRIPPER: I don't care; I made bank! This one perv gave me twenty bucks just to let him lick my feet!

YOUR DRIVER: You actually let him?

PEYTON THE STRIPPER: Fuck yeah I did! I told him twenty gets him one good, long sock removal and a tongue sweep up the bottom of each side. No tongue in between toes, because ew. And then he bought me a shot afterwards.

YOUR DRIVER: Wow. It's like the intersection of foot fetish and football fetish.

PEYTON THE STRIPPER: And I'm standing in the middle of it, catching the paper.

BOTH: [high-5!]

Peyton should've charged $100. Or at least twenty per foot.

U.P. Cinnabar wrote:Peyton should've charged $100. Or at least twenty per foot.

She makes more money than she knows what to do with. That sort of negotiation for a minute or two of work is just a game to her.

True.

I work for a non-profit.

March: FaxModem1, we hired you so that you would spread Outreach, represent us at events, and get the word out about what we can do for potential clients.

August: FaxModem1, we need you to dial back, if not outright stop Outreach, as we're running out of money to help people and too many people are applying for benefits from us.

NON-GEEK GIRL: Are you guys seriously going to talk about Firefly and rpgs for this whole ride?

YOUR DRIVER: Larissa, you chose to marry a geek. That's on you.

GEEK HUSBAND: Word.

BOTH: [fist bump]

Co-worker: I always delete all my cookies, I don't want Google to know anything about me.
ME: You really think that stops them? Dude, they got all that info stored on THEIR servers. Why do you think they have these huge serverfarms all over the planet? That isn't to run their searches, it's mostly to store the data they are mining. For all I know, the actual search code is probably still running on some dusty old Pentium in a corner, somewhere.

TEXT CONVERSATION:

YOUR DRIVER: Hi, did you lose a black hoodie? I found one in my cab after I drove you home last night.

PSYCHO BITCH: I SWEAR IF YOU DON'T STOP HARASSING ME I'M GONNA SEND SOMEONE AFTER U! THIS IS RIDICULOUS.

YOUR DRIVER: Um. I think you might have me mistaken for someone else. I've never contacted you before, I'm just trying to find the owner of this hoodie.

PSYCHO BITCH: I DON'T KNOW U! STOP TEXTING ME!

YOUR DRIVER: Ooooooookay. If it IS yours, you can find it in the lost and found box up at the station.

PSYCHO BITCH: I SAID STOP TEXTING ME!

YOUR DRIVER: Gladly. Lay off the meth, lady.

Someone took her regrets home with her after the party....

Look at the bright side, free hoodie.

(A bunch of developers, all guys, are talking by one guy's cubicle, and I overheard one of them ask if they had e-mailed "L", our facility manager.)

Me: What do you need from her?
Developer: We're out of milk in the kitchen.
Me: I'm pretty sure she isn't lactating, so she might not be able to help you out right away.

This morning, I heard what I think is my cheeriest, most favourite example of unprofessionalism so far:

Number 1: "I need you to book a meeting for us; reserve one of the boardrooms. For the fourteenth?"
Number 2: "What you want to do is, you want to go to 'I am not your secretary dot com', and whatever it is you find there? It will be WAY more helpful than I will be."
Number 1: "You don't have to be rude.
Number 2: "I also don't have to book your meetings!"
Number 1: "Fuck you."
Number 2: (calling after him) "Only if YOU book the meeting room for it!"

That made my morning, thanks.

Last Friday, my boss got a delivery of computers for one of his clients, and I had already spent two days setting them up and making sure all the software was installed properly, as well as installing the specialized stuff for the client. I come in about 9am, boot up my computer and check the new computer I'd left running overnight to finish downloading the WinBlows package.

Me: Weird... nothing else has downloaded. Hey Boss, look at this.
Boss, less than five feet away: Huh, that's weird. Wonder why it didn't finish. Let me log into it.
Me: Uh... I've not loaded LogMeIn onto it yet.
Boss: Oh.. uh... Guess I have to get up. No, wait a second.. what's going.... OH NO THE VPN IS DOWN!!

Boss gets up and RUNS out of the office to reset the building's internet/phone system, because it had gone down sometime in the night and no one had noticed.

Me: *clickedy....clickedy...clackedy* Sigh... *clicks save,checks in code* Done...
Coworker: Really? How did you solve that?
Me: *describes unspeakable things*
Coworker: Wow... That was a dirty hack... But it works now?
Me: Yes. Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom. I feel the urge to wash my hands... And maybe lock myself in a stall for a good cry...

A Skype conversation between me and a young female colleague (YFC). We work in separate offices in the same plaza about 100m apart, not that that's really relevant.

Me: What time do you want to handle this ticket?
YFC: Any time. What exactly are we supposed to do?
Me: We're supposed to call the client with me in on the turbomeeting to try to reproduce.
Me: Reproduce the issue, that is. That was unfortunately phrased.

I didn't send her this, though it is eventually what I think of whenever I use the word "reproduce" in this context. "Eventually" came a few seconds too late for me to avoid a potential sexual harassment complaint.

Me: So this is the error I am getting and I can't figure out why since it's so generic.

eBay Support: Hmm not sure why your getting that, your account is in good condition.

Me: That's what I thought but try as I might no matter what I do, same error.

eBay Support: Hmm not sure why your getting that, your account is in good condition.

Me: ...I know... forget it pass me to someone who know the time of day.

And it went on through 5 "departments" before I got an honest response

We now have a position in our department titled, "Manager of the XXX Collection". It isn't what it should be, and we were all very disappointed.

So what is the "XXX collection" if not the obvious, then?

They're one of the curators at the Canadian Clonal Genebank in Harrow. It's not terribly exciting, but I bet he doesn't explain it that way at parties.

Coworker: What are you doing? Why are you renaming variables? Didn't *boss* tell you to work on the SonarQube (code quality tool) ratings.
Me: I do. You see, they defined conflicting method and variable names as a "critical" error. By renaming them, I'm improving our code quality by about 20%.
Coworker: But it doesn't really do anything to code quality, you know.
Me: I know, you know, but they made the rules. I'm just playing by them. I'll pick the low hanging fruit whenever I can, and I probably get praised by the suits&ties for doing so.
Coworker: I don't know, feels like gaming the system to me.
Me: Call me Trump if you want to, I don't care. Their rules, my game.

I didn't make the rules up for chess or Monopoly, but I sure do win them a lot.

Conversation from work today:
Me: "The person who was Santa for our event yesterday called. Please call him back."
Supervisor: "Will do. You know how he told you that he brought Mrs. Claus onto the (the party's location)?"
Me: "Yeah?"
Supervisor: "Yeah, you told me that, and we already had a Mrs. Claus there, so I started panicking and thinking of ways to explain to the kids that Santa was a bit of a swinger and had more than one Ms. Claus."
Me: "Thank goodness he simply misstated what was going on."
Supervisor: "Yeah, a poly-amorous Santa Claus probably wouldn't have been too popular with the parents."

FaxModem1 wrote:Supervisor: "Yeah, a poly-amorous Santa Claus probably wouldn't have been too popular with the parents."

Depends on the parents, I'd say.

JACKASS: I'm not somebody that you want to fuck with, motherfucker.

YOUR DRIVER: My Mom is a very pretty lady, but we're not quite that close.

JACKASS: I don't give a fuck about your Mom.

YOUR DRIVER: Hey, you brought her into it.