[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 6 most recent journal entries recorded in
Jerk Tracker's LiveJournal:
|Thursday, July 20th, 2006|
Word of the Day
An individual who is a veritable giant retard in their field; one who has achieved a level of responsibility without any level of competence; a supremely underqualified person
Etymology: Derived from the name of the original bozard, possibly a contraction of "bozo" and "retard".
What brings this up? The original bozard (name witheld to protect the idiot) is the facilities manager for our Harrisburg franchise, where I will be teaching next week. Since I'm not anywhere near Harrisburg if I can help it, as the person in charge of computers, he is going to do my setup for the highly technical J2EE class that I will be running next week. He asked me what the setup was, and I referred him to the setup guide for the class- every J2EE class is very different in how it handles setup, and I'd rather tie the setup to the courseware I'll be teaching from. Not having my own copy of the setup guide, he's on his own to read it himself. I strained him, apparently.
Today I got an email from the facilities manager, the system administrator
for the facility. The computer manager. The server admin. The network admin. The guy who makes ALL THE COMPUTER STUFF WORK.
I have finished creating the Java VPC, but I am not 100% confident with it. I will have one of our instructors look at it tomorrow. I followed the setup guide, but am unsure of a few things it mentioned, like setting an environment variable?
Like setting an environment variable. Now, your average Windows user wouldn't know how to do this. I wouldn't expect them to. A system administrator however, should really have some idea of what an environment variable- which can be important for managing your system- is. Even if they don't, one would hope they can use Google
(first link has it covered).
Sadly, this is my second interaction with the original bozard. The previous incident involved a Unix class that was going to be run at a client site in the Harrisburg area. Now, in this case, the setup guide is outdated, so I told him to setup a Virtual PC image (used in all the classes we teach) and use the ISOs that can be downloaded for FreeBSD
to install that flavor of Unix onto the Virtual PC. This also required that Virtual PC be installed on all the client machines to host this.
First, he couldn't find the FreeBSD isos. I reiterated FREEBSD-DOT-ORG, and eventually, he managed to find them. The installer then thwarted him. Now, for a normal user, this might be intimidating
, but for a SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR, one would think they could handle "Just next your way through and when it asks you what software to install, check ALL". Frustrated with incompetence, I got the facilities manager at the Albany center to do the install for me and burn it to DVD, along with the VPC installer, because it looked like the bozard was also incapable of getting to the client site to drop off the software so that the client's sysadmins could install it. Not only could the bozard NOT make it to the client site, he couldn't find anyone else, or make any other arrangement for getting the software to the client site before I had to teach the class. All of the installs had to be done the day of class. A multi-gig VPC file had to be copied from a network server to all the client computers which took no small amount of time. The client was unhappy later, and now the class is being rerun.
So there you have it kids. Don't be a bozard.
|Wednesday, July 19th, 2006|
Crazy Bus Woman: Near Central Ave., Albany NY
This fine sample of humanity decided that today was the perfect day to act out her personal race war with the bus driver. She charges onto the bus pushing a gigantic stroller/carseat/handcarrier combo beast. It doesn't fit in the aisle, and considerate sort that she was, she plows this right over people's feet. Now, it doesn't weight much, and her crotch dropping was tiny, so it wasn't painful, just incosiderate. Little did I know.
The bus driver tells her, not all that politely, to fold her stroller up. "I never have to fold it up on the bus. You don't even know your own fucking policy!" she lied blatantly in response. He counters with a "Watch your language you pig," and that's when it all breaks down. She starts cursing him out, countering with a slew of racial epithets starting with "pink" and "honkey", comparisons between him and a pig, and so-on-and-so-on. "Get off the bus or I'm calling the cops," he demands in an even tone. Her explosions continue.
He turns off the engine, and gets on his radio, asking for the cops to come and take her off the bus. She moves the stroller back across my foot, and with a hopeful glance, I hope she's actually leaving- but no. She just wanted to move to a newly vacated seat (because, shockingly, when the engine stopped, people got off the bus) so that she can tirade from a comfortable sitting position. The tirade generally devolves into how she's being repressed and discriminated against by the honkey/cracker/pink/slave-owning white bus driver. Yeah, because he's in such a position of privlege.
Suffice to say, I didn't stay to watch the end of the 5:30 showing of Race War- another bus travelling the same route arrived only minutes into her frothing, and I escaped only a few minutes worse for the wear. For balance, the bus driver was a cock and not all that polite, but in comparison, he looks like fucking Mahatma Ghandi (bad comparison actually- Ghandi actually did hate black people).
|Monday, March 20th, 2006|
Name: Daniel B
Description: Big. . .
Okay, my school has this tradition called GYRAD. Basically a bunch of people get together (some in genuine dates, some just to have fun) for a good time.
So I put a bit of work into making myself look nice. Skirt, makeup, etc. He showed up . . . in a sweatshirt and shorts. And I have seen that he does in fact own nicer clothes.
Um . . . okay . . .
We were paired with another couple to drive to our meeting place (a local art museum) as neither of us had cars. I thought, "Maybe we'll have some good conversation." And we could have. Except he fell asleep.
. . . . At that point, I wanted OUT. But oh the night was just beginning.
At the art museum, he told me that he had really wanted to take this one girl from another local college on the GYRAD, but she hadn't been able to go.
. . . I'm pretty sure this ISN'T something you tell to the person you're with. . .
He then proceeded to pay a lot of attention to another girl who was on a genuine date, leaving me to the sympathy of the security guard.
. . . .
Our group then drove to a cookie and ice cream place. He told me he would pay for mine and did not.
He then proceeded to engage in lively conversation with just about every female who walked past him.
I thought he was supposed to be paying at least a sort of nodding attention to me?
And then on the car ride back, he fell asleep again.
I am NEVER going on GYRAD with him again. Not that he cares. :P
|Thursday, December 8th, 2005|
Dear Mister Postman:
You're doing a great job. Thanks for delivering us a big steaming pile of mail meant for 35
Street, that was really nice of you. Thanks for throwing the pizza restaurant and chinese food menus all over our steps while you're delivering the mail. And thanks for not
picking up and delivering my car payment, or, today, my Christmas cards. There weren't any clothespins in the house I could use to clip the cards to the front of the box, and I wasn't going out on the back porch in my sock feet to search for one at 8:00 this morning, so I put the letters in the little rack at the bottom of the mailbox, assuming you would say to yourself, "Hey, look! Someone has left six envelopes with stamps and addresses that aren't this one
at the mailbox! I'll make sure they get where they need to go!" But you're too smart for that, aren't you, mister postman?
Ugh. I think I'm gonna get a PO box.
|Saturday, October 1st, 2005|
Name: The Evil Bilbo Baggins Clone (aka the Landlord)
Description: Little hobbitish looking dude who appears to suffer from amnesia (or may be devceloping alzhiemers- Minna, you really need to sign a lease), paranoia (you're gonna ruin the hardwood floors), and all around general incompetence.
Location: The apartment
Time and Date: When we aren't home, apparently
Besides not being all there?
Breaking and entering (if it really is him). Taking a bottle of really cheapass vodka that nobody in their right mind would drink. Taking a cheapass bottle of laundry soap that you had to use twice as much to clean your shit with anyway. Case of the missing purse? Possibly jewelry.....and a digital camera. I don't think I'm missing anything cause my room is so trashed I'm sure he doesn't dare to step in there for fear of breaking his leg, getting lost or eaten alive, etc.
Seriously yo, wtf. Webcam time.
|Friday, September 30th, 2005|
Name: Drama Filled WTMI Girl
Description: Late twenties, early thirties, dyed blonde, pale complexion. Approximately 5'6"-5'8", 140lbs. Most notable feature- her voice carries with surprising volume, capable of drowning out other conversations.
Location: Tandoor Palace, Corner of Lark and Madison, Albany, NY.
Time and Date: 7:45-8:45, 9/30/05
This woman wouldn't shut the hell up. She and a young man entered the restaurant, and once seated, she immediately launched into an extremely loud monologue about the details of her life, including the details of her mother's nervous breakdown, her brother's delusional behavior, and her understanding of what it's like to be skinned alive.
I know far more details of her life than I would ever care to, namely, any. Tuning her out was not an option, because she apparently never learned about using her "Inside Voice". The poor man sitting with her managed to squeeze about three sentances in throughout the course of the meal, and all I could think was that if this was a first-date scenario, he should run far, far away.