Why Are Laptop Parts So Hard to Find?

August 11th, 2008 at 8:04 pm by Mark Steel
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     Over the last year, I’ve made quite a bit of new business working on Laptops, thanks in no small part to Les Jones blogging about it.  It’s easy, really, and most people just can’t be bothered fixing Laptop hardware problems.

     But something’s been really irking me about it.

     The availability of parts is putting a real kink in the works.  Every part I try and order lately is actually out of stock, despite the vendors saying they have upwards of twenty-five.  I’ll make an order, only to be replied, some four to five days later, that they’re out of stock.  Thanks, asshats!

     I had one laptop for a month waiting on a motherboard.  I returned it, busted, last week to Cumberland Gap.
     I’ve had one for two weeks now waiting on a cooling fan that never seems to show up.

     These vendors are really pissing me off …

     And who gets left trying to play clean up?

     Yours truly…

Asshat of the Day: Mateo Meier of Switzerland

August 1st, 2008 at 5:46 am by Mark Steel
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     It’s well known that Swiss Banks are havens for asshats who wanted to hide all their stolen, Nazi gold.

     A few years ago, I broke a bit of code, using a Modulo 17 mathematical matrix, and created a way for Swiss Francs and Euros to be directly deposited into a certain company’s bank account.  Mateo Meier, President and CEO of Artmotion Ltd., never bothered to pay me for that trouble, nor followed any specifications on the web design job project he was given to make up for it.

     He owes me over two thousand USD, and a little more for the pain in the ass of collections.  His design worked sucked, and seemed more like an Office Online Template rather than anything that was done in Photoshop like he said.

     You’re a piece of crap, Mateo Meier.

     May you rot.

Playing Out a Funk (Reprise)

July 19th, 2008 at 1:21 am by Mark Steel
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     Took a little break, and then picked it up again — no pun intended.  That guitar kills my fingers. 

     They bleed … it hurts to type.

     Been working with a new company a little lately, introducing some of my customers and doing a bit of cross-promotion.  I’ve also been working on some experimental car stuff a bit and doing a bit of research. 

     But all in all, not one single bit of it makes me miss my Wildcat any less.

Playing Out a Funk

July 19th, 2008 at 12:12 am by Mark Steel
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     Ok, it seems Pink Foyd: The Wall is becoming a recurring theme.

     I’ve been sitting here most of the night, rebuilding a couple of laptops, listening to the Wall Sountrack (which is a little different than the actual album).  A bit ago, I decided to pick up the guitar and play along with it.

     My fingers are bleeding…

     I gotta either quit playing, or play more.

     But I miss my Wildcat … so I play.

Fuck Hyden, Kentucky

July 7th, 2008 at 12:32 am by Mark Steel
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     I am pissed.  Really PISSED.

     Alright, so I moved to this tiny, insignificant small town to be with a woman who I love more than live itself. 

     I still do.

     So, after moving to Hyden, KY and working for a sister company of Mary Breckinridge Hospital:

  1. I have had someone try and charge me rent for the “closet” I lived in at $250 a month.
  2. I have had the people I am supposed to be working with screw me in never giving me enough access to do my job.
  3. I have had her family tell me to “drive away, and never come back again.”
  4. I have had resistance after resistance when trying to train these people how to do things in such a way that it miht be helpful to both them AND the patients.
  5. I have to put up with someone running aroudn town telling people I am beating the shit out of my Wildcat on a daily basis.
  6. I have had my job being threatened by people who aren’t hospital emplyees, nor health providers, saying that I would be fired if I did not give them access to personal health records,  Thanks to Frank Baker and Connie Norris, the recipient of social security numbers, addresses, phone numbers, etc. of pateients without their knowlege.
  7. I found out who kept giving Connie Norris access to the afforementioned records — John Hoskins, son of the esteemed womanizing-yet-prize-employee Norman Hoskins — and turned it in to my boss at the Clinics, Ben Peak.
  8. I have been gossip[ped about that I beat my Wildcat on a daily basis.  (I took the joke, and said, “Goddan, I take a break on weekends!”)
  9. I have been accused of criminal trespassing when going to see my family doctor.
  10. I have been threatened of my life for showing up to pick up my personal belongings.  By the way, you assholes at MBH owe me EVERYTHING that was in that notebook case — not just a frew checks and paystubs.  You owe me what was under and on my desk, too, dickheads,  Severak thousand.  You ready?

     At some point, this fucking drama in Leslie County, Kentukcy has to stop.

     Even the Police Department, County Attorney’s Office, and even the Kentucky State Police have been embroiled in this mess.  FOR WHAT?  I HAVEN”T DONE ANYTHING WRONG!
     Leslie County pussies.
     You wanna use the Cops to do your dirty work, and eventually the police officers and judges are going to get sickand tired of your bullshit.  Get that, Randy?

     I have also been accused of endangering the life of My Wildcat.

     I love this woman with all my heart.

     I’ve lost my job, I’ve lost my things, I’ve lost my dignity, and for fucksakes —- WHAT FOR?

     Bullshit.

     And THAT is why I was so happy when Pizza Dave decided to push me for a change.

     He didn’t use the cops to do his dirty work.

     He was a MAN.

     It’s bad enough the people in that fucking town are lying, backstabbing pieces of shit.  I’d just hope they do it somewhere else. 

     I have a GHOST-clean record.  I do NOT need you assholes in that county trying to pull dirty tricks to use the Cops to do the dirty work you should have the BALLS to do yourself.

     And for my family, who I miss like mad, I love you.  I love every damn one of you.

     No matter what you think.

     As for MBH, they admitted to a hospital for a panic attack.  They fired me, without my knowlege, in the meantime.  Cancelled my insurance.

     Took my notebook.  Sure, it was a work notebook.  But the case contained:

  1. My Glasses
  2. My Contacts
  3. My contact solution and case
  4. My Stratitec card reader
  5. My Stratictec USB hub
  6. My copy of Windows VIsta Ultimate OEM (from Ebay)
  7. My copy of Office Ultimate OEM (from Ebay)
  8. My Intel Webcam Pro
  9. My Corssover network cable
  10. My 8′ Network Cable
  11. My 25′ Network Cable
  12. My USB Docking Station (Kingstong, I believe)
  13. My personal notebook (a ring-bound notebook, black with copper spring)
  14. Multiple business cards
  15. Multiple post-it notes, some non-work related
  16. A $50 Starbucks Gift Card
  17. A couple sticks of 1GB DDR-400 Memory
  18. A Sandisk Cruzer 8GB Titatnium with all my IMPORTANT stuff on it?
  19. A couple of Lexar 512MB keys
  20. A couple of Lexar 256MB keys
  21. Multiple offbrand 64-256MB keys (at least 4)
  22. My CD case full of Microsoft install disdks/

     Atop my desk?

  1. An Intel Quad-Core 2.4 CPU, OEM
  2. A Coolermaster CPU fan for the above
  3. 2 BFG 8800 GTX PCI/E Video Cards
  4. 4 Gigs of DDR2-1066 Memory
  5. An ATI Video Card for a Dell Notebook
  6. A large, silver N-Force Coffee Cup
  7. 1 Cannister of Folgers Black Silk (given by a co-worker as a birthday prent)
  8. A $15 Starbucks Gift Card (given by a co-worker)
  9. Multiple businesss cards, post-it notes and personal items

     They did send me a box containing:

  1. Ny glasses
  2. My contacts (some)
  3. My contact case
  4. SOME of my expensse checks
  5. SOME of my mail
  6. The $15 Starbuck’s card

     Fuck Hyden, Kentucky,

     Theives,

     I have also been deprived of my personal belongings, having been threatened of my life, by one Alan Osborne, boyfriend of esteemed psychotic former landlord — and daughter of Mary Brechkinridge Hospital administrator, Connie Hubbard —- but, hey … None of that’s illegal in Leslie County, is it?

     You assholes stole my things.  You fired me illegally.  You haven’t given me paperwork one. 

     And you think that’s ok?

     And you call the cops when I come around trying to figure out what’s going on?

     Thanks, Randy North.

     Don’t you think they’ll get tired of that soon?

     I am clean.  Totally. 

     Bring it on, Asshat!  I never even HEARD you didn’t want me there til you called the COPS, asshat!  You think they enjoy wasting THEIR time on your bullshit?

     I love Ann, My Wildcat.  It’s not in me to abuse her like she always was.

     I did, however, break a wheel in trying to drive her back to the hospital we worked at during one of her panic attacks. 

     And if that’s cause for alarm.  Fuck Leslie County REAL hard.

     But it’s certainly not enough to embroil me in this caustic bullshit that seems to propagate from nothing.

     As for what went on between me and my Wildcat, she screamed.  I got scared.  I asked her to get out, and she wouldn’t.  I panicked.  I have panic attacks now.  Thanks, Leslie Country.  But I got her safely to a parking lot — safely after I hit a curb in trying to go where she wanted.  But I got her there because I couldn’t go where I wanted to — back to the hospital, where she wanted to be.
     I got admitted there against my will, where one Dr. Lauff, upon asking him for an apologiy called me a “fuckass” and told me he didn’t owe me “anything.”  Then I cussed him up one side and down the other — yet Leslie County says I attacked and cussed him and was being disrespectful?
     Fuck Leslie County.

     Fuck MBH.

     MBH fired me.  MBH fired my Wildcat.

     For shit that DIDN’T EVEN HAPPEN THERE.

     I love you, Ann. 

     I love you, Jerry, Steph and Dale.

     Fuck those people.

     We all deserve better.

     And, Mary-Mary, if you open your fucking mouth one more time, you’re inviting a slander suit, bitch.  I heard that today from someone else — Not good, deary.  We’ll both gang you in court.

      Just like you Leslie County people like it….

      In court, and legal …

      Like it isn’t.

      I miss you, Junior.  You could see the bullshit.  But I promised my Wildcat I’d I’d never put her against her family.   And I meant it.  You were a father to me where I never had one.

Committed Means Different Things

June 2nd, 2008 at 12:34 pm by Mark Steel
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     When you say the word “committed,” several different things come to mind.

     Webster’s Dictionary provides the following insight into the word “committed:”

  1. gave in trust or charge; consigned.
  2. consigned for preservation: committed ideas to writing; to committed a poem to memory.
  3. pledged (oneself) to a position on an issue or question; expressed (one’s intention, feeling, etc.): Asked if he was a candidate, he refused to be committed.
  4. bound or obligated, as by pledge or assurance; pledged: committed oneself to a promise; committed to a course of action.
  5. entrusted, esp. for safekeeping; commended: committed her soul to God.
  6. did; performed; perpetrated: committed murder; committed an error.
  7. consigned to custody: committed a delinquent to a reformatory.
  8. placed in a mental institution or hospital by or as if by legal authority: He was committed on the certificate of two psychiatrists.
  9. delivered for treatment, disposal, etc.; relegated: committed a manuscript to the flames.
  10. sent into a battle: The commander has committed all his troops to the front lines.
  11. Parliamentary Procedure. refered (a bill or the like) to a committee for consideration.
  12. pledged or engaged oneself: an athlete who has committed to the highest standards.

     Now look at this picture:

Mark deep in though

     Which one(s) apply?

A Change in Perspective

March 8th, 2008 at 10:40 am by Mark Steel
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     I’ve gotten some sporadic e-mails and messages wondering where I’ve been the last couple of weeks.  I’m simply not telling.  The fact is, I needed a change from ridiculous work hours, and really needed to shrug off a lot of the responsibility that’s been bearing down on me.
     Now, there’s no more dealing with bad checks, fraudulent credit cards, delinquent accounts, support phone calls from customers who can’t figure out time zones or other day-to-day craziness of trying to run a business.  The day-to-day harrassment and stress is gone.  Things that weren’t working out are beginning to turn around.  I’ve completed my first week of work, and found that I actually have time for things again.

     Being able to enjoy time away from work and BS and drama is a good thing.  Being able to spend more time with the Wildcat is an even better thing.

     I took a Systems Analyst job at a small-town hospital with several, small satellite clinics.  What I get to do is learn the software that they’re using for digital record keeping in order to help them maximize the use of it so that they know pretty much everything they need to know from start to finish — from health records, to insurance, privacy, billing and revenue.  The objective is to be able to see the business processes through from start to finish, document everything, train everyone up to the same level and have a nice, neat collaborative platform that can be used in conjunction with patient records.

     It’s good for the patients:  they’re able to receive better care, having their full histories in a central location instead of having such disparate dissemination of information, and having a simple way to schedule, refer and assist in their diagnoses.  It also gives them a lot more choice about where they receive their care, as they don’t have to start out blind with a new Doctor.
     It’s good for healthcare providers: they’re able to get a better, overall view of a patient’s health, what’s been tried, what’s working, what isn’t and what kind of maintenance and service their patients are getting.  They can see trends with patients and better prepare for epidemics thanks to having data over time.
     It’s good for the staff: they’re able to better assist patients with scheduling and insurance issues, move them from the waiting rooms to the healthcare providers more quickly and get general overviews to assist them in making decisions about how to best care for the patients.
     And, lastly, it’s good for the administration.  They’re able to get a better overview of what’s going on inside their organization, how to budget based on usage and volume, and the best ways to handle new, Government-imposed rules.  They’re also able to get real and useful data about profits and losses at their locations and assist them in improving the quality of service.

     At least, that’s how it will be, once I get a lot of work finished. 

     Despite being a small healthcare system in several small towns, there are as many providers and staff as some of the “large” hospitals, and certainly no shortage of ailing patients.  There’s a reasonably high learning curve to what has proven to be some pretty quirky software, and there seems to be a lot of connectivity issues between locations.
     Oh, and did I mention that I’ve never used this software before?

     Some people might consider it a daunting task.

     For me, it’s exactly what I enjoy doing.  I get to go into a business, learn its processes from top to bottom, liberally apply technology, train everyone how to utilize that technology to the best of its ability and end up with a lot more speed, efficiency and, ultimately, accountability.  You’re able to see where things are falling down, improve processes, and eventually end up being able to provide customers with better service.

     The thing is, as much as I’ve complained about healthcare providers over the last few years, now I’m inside a system where I can do something for the greater good.  I can’t knock the place where I am, because despite being a small system, they do their communities a great service.  They’re an incredible public benefactor, which is one of the reasons I’ve been so impressed with them.

     I also see this as a very real chance to improve the quality of care that patients receive.  If I do a good enough job, perhaps it can be used as a template for larger healthcare systems where patients are treated as numbers instead of names, where profit takes precedence over patient care.
     I’m sure everyone in Knoxville knows exactly where I’m talking about…

     As for the organization, there are many more things that have impressed me.  People are friendly and talkative, they legitimately enjoy their jobs, they offer suggestions instead of incessantly complaining, and they care about what they’re doing. 
     The IT staff are equally impressive.  It’s the first time I’ve gone into a company and not seen an arrogance level that dwarfs their ability.  In fact, these guys actually want to learn, ask questions and try to solve problems.

     The last thing that really stood out happened yesterday morning.  At 8:30AM, when time allowed, there was a completely voluntary meeting.  Out came the Prayer Book.  It was filled with names of friends, family and patients to pray for.  The deceased weren’t marked out — no, they were highlighted in green.
     My two-year-old neice is in the hospital on a respirator.  I don’t know what’s wrong with her, what hospital she’s at, or even how to get hold of anyone to ask because the phone messages I get are more damning than informative, and completely devoid of any contact information where I might be able to figure anything else out.  I know that it’s out of my hands, so, I added her to the Prayer Book.
     We held hands in a circle, were led in prayer with a song and our requests, and made a few silent ones of my own.
     Burdens off, we went back to work.

     That felt good.

     All in all, I needed the change.  I’ve felt trapped and claustrophobic for the last couple of years, and suddenly been offered a great opportunity which I’ve grabbed by the horns.  I enjoy my work again.  I’m enjoying meeting more people, talking to people, and doing what I do.

     To top it all, my Wildcat’s lying three feet away from me, fast asleep, a gentle smile upon her face.  I thank God for this woman every day.

     For the first time in a while, I’m unequivocally happy.

Slight Professional Irritants

February 5th, 2008 at 1:00 am by Zacque Hitchcock
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Every so often, there comes a time when something is just slightly irritating enough to be a tongue-punch in the old backdoor, Mind you not in the kinky variety of “ooh, please sir…  May I…  I need some more!”  Rather in the “Eww, gross!”  I feel weird when I am a propositioned by the seedy old man at the rest stop sort of way; yes, that is how I feel when people with the help of God still can’t seem to understand what I am saying.  For crying out loud, I speak the same English that they do.  It can’t be this difficult.

I specifically said to someone “I can’t do anything with those images, my lab won’t let me.”  However they still went on to tell me that I could indeed do so if I performed said mentioned set of magic tricks while holding an emasculated monkey doing the can-can on its head.  To which I said, “Perhaps you didn’t hear me correctly, I cannot do anything to those images.  The proprietary software won’t register the images as actually there if I do that.”

For a reason unannounced to anyone but the other person and God himself, (sorry for Hitlery supporters, but God has to be masculine as no woman would let the world get this far,) this person still demanded that I be able to make changes to the images anyways.  Oh well, I guess that will be the last time I try to ask a so-called colleague (who probably couldn’t photograph their way out of paper bag,) for an opinion about work in the same field.  They don’t spend any money on work you do for them anyhow.

Monday Melee from Julie for 02/04/2008

February 4th, 2008 at 4:19 am by Jewel White
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Fracas' Monday Melee1. The Misanthtropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate.

It’s risky business, hating something about humanity, as it can lead to more dangerous drugs, like self-loathing. Today, however, I’m in a brave mood, so I’ll take a stab at hating voyeurism, or better yet, gossip. Is there no cure? Okay, I think that’s enough hating for one day.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.

Good Mourning, It’s MondayI think oxymorons are bogus. For instance, we love to say ‘Good Morning,’ knowing there is really no such thing. I’m going to protest against Webster’s Dictionary and insist they start spelling it ‘Mourning.’  Mournings suck, and I can speak from experience now that I have joined the world of day-shift employees, or associates, or whatever HR insists we are called these days. Having to go to bed early, and not quite managing it, and therefore never getting enough sleep… how could anyone call that good? Honestly, I’m just mourning my bed, so please, STFU.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.

I’m unhappy with the Monday Melee. I can’t write the Monday Melee on Monday. I have to sit here on my wondrous Sunday nights, after my most awesome weekends, and pretend like Mondays are acceptable days of the week. Mondays are not acceptable. Mondays are mournings. Please see number 2.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.

Exactly 53 weeks ago today, Fracas started doing this Monday Melee thing.  Kudos on a year and one week of Monday Melee! (Thanks Mark, and Fracas.)

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.

Some days, I can read what Mark writes. (Mwahahahaha)

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.

I wish Mark would stop dissing our home on Monday Melee! What’s wrong with our home, Dude?

Now it’s your turn.

You can take part in The Monday Melee, even make it a regular feature at your site by visiting The Monday Melee page and following the steps. Kick-start your brain on Mondays and meet other bloggers.

These Boots Ain’t Made For Walkin…

November 12th, 2007 at 2:16 pm by Diva Howe
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It’s Monday. In most cases, that would be enough. Not today. Actually my head started to spin around last night thanks to my wonderful, caring EX-husband. But, that’s another story all-together now isn’t it?

No, today (after last night), I decided to:

  • Get up early - check
  • Drink some coffee - check
  • Have a nice long shower - check
  • Do my do - check (thank God for Aussie Freeze) - check
  • Actually put on some war paint - check

…and be somebody and have a great day…

Yah, right.

I managed to amp up on caffeine, have a shower and look like somebody today. Most days, I go to the office looking scary because who the ever comes in our office? Not a damn soul but the UPS guy and he’s used to seeing me look like something my cat just yacked up.

All is going well, I main-lining my Juan Valdez coffee, I get dressed and look pretty damn good for a Monday, drop my purse and coffee cup on the end table so I can run up to the kitchen and grab my lunch. I get back downstairs, I stick my lunch in my purse, grab my coffee and out the door I go. So far, so good, eh?

Well, not so much because as I hear that click that signifies the door is indeed shut and LOCKED, I realize my damn keys are in the house… Figures.

“Damn!” I said out loud to myself and the trees. “No biggie. I’ll just call OG and she can pop over and get me.”

It was already 8:30 and since 8:30 is merely a suggested time to get to work, I knew I wouldn’t be able to reach OG for at least another few minutes.

“Good grief. Here they fucking come.” I muttered to myself standing in the middle of the driveway.

THEY are my nosy neighbor and her moppy looking muts. I can’t stand her or them. She’s the one neighbor that everybody has. She knows everything about everybody in the neighborhood well, exepting us, as we avoid her like the plague.

I saw them coming at me, barking like there’s no tomorrow. I looked at the one taking a shit in the neighbor across the street’s yard and looked up to see NOSY in her front yard, yelling “No jump! No jump!” Whatever.
Those dogs don’t understand plain English because they still run and jump all over anybody that has the balls to walk anywhere on our road when she has them out.

I looked her dead in the eye and gave her my “you’re a skank” glare her before I made a snap decision to take off and walk to work.

Off I went, thinking I’d make it a little ways, be away from psycho neighbor and her mutts, I’d get hold of OG in a few minutes and she’d come get me. I try her again.

“Hey. Come get me. I’m a dork, I locked all the keys in the house…”

“Dude,” she said in a solemn tone, “You just take this like a man. But you’re F-U-C-K-E-D.”

I’m automatically assuming some more fresh cooked drama is coming my way.

“I rode my bike to work today.” She concludes. Excellent, no drama, but it appears I’m walking the 6 miles to work today in these friggin shoes…

They are Gloria Vanderbilt and they were expensive. These are the most comfy slides I own. However, I don’t think Gloria had me walking to work in them., cuz after the first mile and a half, my dang dogs were barkin.

I made many personal observations on my trek this morning.

  1. I shouldn’t wear silky, thin pants in fall. It’s fucking cold and I might get locked out of the house.
  2. I really, really don’t like my neighbor. Her dogs shit in everybody’s yard but their own (trained to do so by their proud owner I assume).
  3. Random people who walk along the river in Oak Ridge are super friendly. I suppose I exchanged 10 smiles and at least that many “hello” and “Good mornings”.
  4. Our ex’s are never going to go away. They are part of our pasts and we just have to learn to deal with it.
  5. I can indeed do two things at once. I can walk and text at the same time.
  6. People really do throw some nasty stuff on the side of the road. For example:
    • some dude chucked his Joe Boxer tighties out the window… Ewwwww…
  7. There is too much roadkill for a Monday morning…  The count goes a little somethin like this:
    • One disemboweled and half masticated deer (bllluch)
    • Two squished baby skunks
    • A racoon that had just been plowed down
    • A poor bunny rabbit that being eaten by crows
  8. Maybe I should go back to the gym.  All things considered, I feel all happy and refreshed after kicking every pebble for six miles.

Ahh, ya gotta love a Monday!

Peace!