My So-Called Life
People ask me, "What do you do with your life, Kapitano?". Well, here's the answer.
Two days ago, I got a call at midnight from an old acquaintance who wanted to know "How do I get the bar down from up the side?"
Yes, a computer question - "How do I get the XP taskbar back down the bottom of the screen?". Not a difficult challenge, though it did require explaining that you don't need to install "Dragon Drop" to drag-and-drop.
Yesterday, a call to ask "Why isn't my orange dong connecting?"
Why indeed? In the past I've been asked about "the donkey driver for my bluetooth phone", but this time it was a USB donkey for wireless internetting - courtesy of Orange telecommunications.
It started working on its own a few hours later. Apparently "the internet must've gone down for a few hours".
This morning...a call from someone I didn't immediately recognise. The school I worked for a year ago - the school that last month called me up to ask about "burning cassettes onto CD" - their accountant, a man with who I'd had three brief conversations.
He's working somewhere else now - a place that'd received an email attachment in a hitherto unknown format. So could I please advise him what program could read it?
I was actually offered payment for this one, but on this occasion declined. The pleasure of figuring out that someone had tried to email a corrupted .DLL file disguised as an MS Works text document was enough - though if you wanted to know why anyone would do such a bizarre thing, that investigation would come with a handsome price tag.
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The fella with the orange dong should have been consulting a doctor, not asking for tech support.
ReplyDeleteSorry, just can't top MJ's comment. :-)
ReplyDeletePerhaps Kapi has experience with strange colored dongs.
ReplyDeleteI bet that accountant was so happy to finally be able to download his internet porn file.
Yes, I had an orange dong once, and did indeed consult a doctor (God, that was SO embarassing!).
ReplyDeleteBut doc was not phased at all by my orange dong, and swiftly recognised a 'touch' of herpes. Treatment was an even more orange-looking liquid that did the trick in a week or so.
I never did forgive that nasty cow who passed it on to me. She was even quite happy to admit it must have been her - shameless slapper!