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I say again, Utah… WHAT THE HELL?

I say again, Utah… WHAT THE HELL?

When it rains, it pours.

Now on top of the asinine alcohol legislation, we get a brilliant proposal from a state representative from the last place in Utah that I lived, American Fork.

“Oh, great”, you’re probably thinking. Spin’s pissed off again and in a ranty mood.

YOU’RE FREAKING RIGHT I AM. Get this… this rocket scientist wants to tax caffeine, particularly in cold drinks.

Again, this is a HUGE bleed between Church and State. “Hey, guys! Let’s restrict the rights of others because of something that’s not even WRITTEN in the book of scripture that most of us follow but some say is implied, whether those who don’t believe want it or not!”

Don’t even get me started on the whole Hot Chocolate thing, either. (It’s a sore spot, and one of the things that I struggled with most when I was an active member of the LDS church.)

Every time I read something like this, the more I grow to resent my home.

What the HELL, Utah? Seriously?

What the HELL, Utah? Seriously?

I love my home state of Utah. I love the mountains. I love the lack of humidity. I love some of the places to hang out in Salt Lake. I love my friends. I love the Utah Jazz. I love some of the people.

What I do NOT love, however, were the liquor laws and what I REALLY don’t have any sort of love in my shriveled little heart for are the great bulk of the politicians in Utah.

I was reading the Salt Lake Tribune and saw an article that made me smile– “Private clubs on verge of extinction”.

Y’see, in Utah there are no real bars. Instead, there are private clubs– establishments that anywhere else would be a bar, but in Utah require a membership. If you don’t have a membership, you have to get a sponsorship from someone else. Generally, someone at the bar’s willing to sponsor anyone for a week-long membership… but it’s an additional cost to Utah’s already expensive (and slightly watered down) booze.

The article explains that the clubs would be done away with in favor of an ID scanner. Records would be kept on hand for a week. I’m sure it’ll be expensive for restaurants, but it’s a decent compromise.

I’m also not gonna bitch about the harsher penalties for drunk driving– I’m always in favor of harsh punishments if you’re caught driving under the influence of anything.

However… there’s one provision that is completely and totally illogical.

I shall quote…

New restaurants would need a separate area for mixing drinks, away from the view of children. Existing restaurants would be grandfathered, but might qualify for $30,000 in assistance if they chose to renovate to conceal the mixing of drinks.

What in the blue hell? I read about a stand-alone version of the bill at my good friend Kri5is’s Blog but I didn’t figure that it would get past the Senate. The bastard John Valentine basically forced it into the private club bill. One step forward, two steps back. I’m also going to echo my friend’s concern on this– having to build a separate section is going to KILL the expansion of chain restaurants in Utah… and probably a fair amount of homegrown restaurants, too.

Why is Utah’s legislature trying, yet again, to be the Morality Police? Is it going to RUIN our precious little snowflakes to see someone mixing a martini or pouring a shot? Have parents, in all of these years of NOT having a massive wall protecting us from the evil Alco-Rays, had a child see a bartender mix a Tom Collins and then seen their children come home, find the nearest hobo to buy them a fifth of Baron von Rothschild (vodka proudly distilled in OREGON… probably in a used cast-iron bathtub) and then proceed to get massively hammered? Didn’t think so.

Y’know what I’m gonna do? I’m going to go home after work. I’m going to sit down and crack open a Magic Hat #9 (“Not Quite Pale Ale”) and bask in its malty goodness. Then I’m gonna wait for KLynne to get home and ask her if she wants to go to Taco Mac, where I can get a sammich or some hot wings and enjoy one of 108 beers (and that’s just on tap) without getting hassle from the Morality Po-Po.

Headaches Come From A Land Down Under

Headaches Come From A Land Down Under


busy day?


Busy. I’m dealing with the Australian version of us. The one guy who calls, Terry, talks in an excruciatingly slow drawl with a terrible Aussie accent and keeps on blathering on about the stupidest shit and saying the same thing time and time again.


ha ha FUN!


Yeah. I want to tell him to go throw himself into a billabong, get attacked by a drop bear, and maybe the bunyip will get him in the night.

More Work Fun

More Work Fun

Here’s further proof that we’re all screwed.

Wanna hear a story about the latest idiot?
He compressed his ENTIRE C DRIVE to save disk space.  Immediately asks how long I’ve been supporting the software like I’m some kind of moron.

you’re kidding!?

Not kidding.
And to make matters better? He thought he was backing up his files just by plugging in his USB hard drive.
He hasn’t had a complete backup since TWO THOUSAND AND FOUR.

where do these people COME FROM!?

He’s got a picture of NASCAR on his server’s desktop,… server 2003…
And he’s got Bodog Poker on there, and three different web toolbars, and Adult Friend Finder was showing in the bookmarks folder (which he accidentally clicked on)…
And he’s PROPER FUCKED.  Idiot hardware tech gave him the idea.


I’m laughing maniacally right now.
A low, deep, evil laugh.
That’s what the bastards deserve for questioning my experience. Karma FOR THE WIN.

I hate my job.

I hate my job.

This rocket scientist on the phone with me has no less than SIX — count ’em, SIX — web toolbars on her copy of Internet Explorer.

LOL ohh MAN that is ridiculous! How can she even browse webpages?!

I needed to remote in to fix a problem… and she connected me to a front desk computer. One that doesn’t even have the hardware installed.

She was insulted when I used the analogy “Ma’am, that’s like me coming in to have an extraction done but sending in my friend instead.”


She hung up on me.
Out! Out! Demons of stupidity!

Out! Out! Demons of stupidity!

Idiots calling me all day. Here’s what I had to do today.

Someone called in, up in arms that her computers were throwing “Unable To Initialize” errors intermittently. She wasn’t able to tell me if she had installed anything since before the problem started and said “shouldn’t choo know dis?” I told her that we don’t control everything on her PC, and she replied with “You choood.”

This is the point where I smacked my palm against my head.

I then told her to shut down her PC and she was like “what do choo mean shut down” and then went into a long spiel about “we is having problems…” the same that she regaled me with at the BEGINNING of the call. I said “Well, shutting down the computers is the first step in troubleshooting that we need to take.”

“What do choo mean “trouble…chooting?”

So I said, in my most smarmy, condescending voice… “What I mean is this. When you have a problem with something and call us, we go through a process called “troubleshooting. This is what technical people use to fix problems. Now, that means that we go through a series of steps, called “troubleshooting steps”, to see if they fix the problem. If one of these “troubleshooting steps” doesn’t work, then we take another “troubleshooting step”, which will be a DIFFERENT set of things that I ask you to do on the computer. Using the process of “troubleshooting”, we are able to come to a solution that will solve problems that you are having. Rebooting your comptuer is the first step in this “troubleshooting.”

IHTFP. Not only do I have to deal with this, but the company that controls our paychecks has fucked up, and NONE of us have our paychecks. I’ve got Insurance due today. Many other people have mortgage payments, car payments, or rent due. What’s the response? “We’ll keep you posted on it.”

I leave in 40 minutes. I need my paycheck to put down the pet deposit, insurance, and credit cards. Still, I haven’t punched anything or anyone, so I’ve got that going for me. Which is nice.



Let me tell you how my day has been going.

I got a call transferred to me from a guy in Sales back at my old job. It’s a sales person from that group’s parent company. Let’s call them Schmenry Shmine. This call was not for anything tech-related… this is a guy who’s pushing gauze, gloves, toothpaste, and all of the other common-use stuff in a dental office.

He wants me to give him the part number to and put in an order for a camera hanger.

Guess what? I AM IN TECHNICAL SUPPORT. I don’t sell things, I don’t have part numbers, I don’t even think the part he wants is even sold seperately. I tell him that I don’t have access to this, but I would be more than happy to get him to a regional sales manager who has a part list.

He says “I don’t want a goddamn manager, I want to be put on the line with someone who can give me that and sell it to me immediately. Come on, let’s do it for Team Schei– er… Schmein.”

News Flash:
I don’t work for Schmenry Shmine.

Schmenry Shmine is the company that repeatedly gave me the shaft for the last two years I was with them, continually pulling asshole move on me after asshole move.

I have no loyalty for Team Shmine.

In fact, I would dance a freaking JIG if Schmenry Shmine and all of their subsidiaries were forced out of business and the CEO, Board of Directors, and in fact everyone down the chain to the guy who used to run the Support team and dissolved the Quality Control department were left penniless giving handjobs for whiskey money.

THAT is how I feel about Team Shmine.

He got ten minutes in the Penalty Box and a phone number for his zone manager. DAMN do I hate people.