Category Archives: rant

cyber-rage

Rotten Apples

My laptop’s hard drive decided to get ultra-corrupted this morning. Nothing fixes it. Not fsck, not disk utility, and not Diskwarrior, which is completely worthless software. The only thing I have left to do is zero the drive and reinstall OS X. The problem is I’m not sure if I have any valuable data on the drive that I don’t want to lose. Of course, it’s pretty much lost already . . . good point, Steve.

I don’t know how I do it, but I have the worst luck with hard drives. I just got my tower’s hard drive issues figured out and now my laptop decides to explode.

Auto rant

A few words of advice/shout outs to some of my fellow drivers:

To all you dudes in convertibles: Look, guys shouldn’t be in convertibles normally*, but if you’re going to be in a convertible do not drive around with smooth jazz thumping. Everybody is already smirking becuase you’re in a convertbile, adding the Yanni just makes us snicker. The only music that is acceptable in this scenario, a scenario that should not be occurring anyway, is ’80’s metal.

*The exception to this rule is if it’s a classic and/or muscle car.

To people in sporty coupes: You people have cars that can go faster, turn sharper, handle better, and accelerate quicker than most other cars. Please drive like you own a sporty coupe rather than a top heavy, iron-framed SUV built in the ’70’s. Going 5 under in the passing lane is completely unacceptable, and you should have that neat little Crossfire taken away from you.

To the wiggers in the Lincoln town cars bumping phat beats: You are in a stock Lincoln town car that isn’t blinged out to the max, yet you still have enough attitude to blast your hip-hop. You are cool because you make me laugh. Thank you for not driving the stereotypical chromed-out Escalade with spinners and other ridiculous accessories. Now, if we can just work on your musical choice . . .

To the people with all sorts of alternative fuel/environmental stickers on the back of your car: It’s cool that you fret over the environment, and because I like alternative fuels I will ignore the haughtiness of the stickers proclaiming you use biodiesel. However, I will not ignore the fact that you’re obviously an environmental nut yet you still flick your cigarette butts out the window of your stupid Volkswagon. Look up “hypocrite” in a dictionary. Learn it. Love it.

To the guy on the street bike with a hot girl in leather on the back: I’m jealous. For obvious reasons.

The whiners have spoken

Good grief. My parents practically had a panic attack earlier this week because — gasp! — I hadn’t posted in over a week and I missed them once on IM. This spawned another spat of IM chatter and a phone call cut short by my stupid cell phone (I can turn the volume down but not up). This evening I had not one but two friends whine that I haven’t given them anything interesting to read when they’re “really bored.” Two things here: (1) yes, I do have two friends, and (2) yes, they only care about me when they’re really bored. In truth, I love this sort of attention, and even though it puts a small burden on me to have some type of output here on my blog, I consider it an easy and light burden because people care. So, this post is dedicated to my friends and family who demand some kind of blog productivity. Unfortunately, nothing has changed, and I don’t have much to write about. I guess I could talk briefly about part of my evening tonight.

Thursday nights are special nights for me. Thursday nights are precious to me. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Thursday nights are probably the dearest nights to me out of the whole week. I might even go so far to say that I live for Thursday nights. Thursday nights are the nights I go out with The Guys, and we do our Guy Thing. I’ve managed through a remarkable display of charisma, charm, persuasion, and bribery to extricate most of my friends from the merciless yet wonderful clutches of their significant others for one night a week. These nights are almost invariably marked by cheer, laughter, camaraderie, beer (Guinness), and compelling conversation. These are the nights when I shirk my nerdiness, forget my loneliness and general boredom, and remember how good it is to be in the company of 3D people who have voices, faces, and smells. Normally, on these nights we go to McCormick’s and Schmick’s. We’re regulars there. Yes, they know my name. And even more creepily, I know their names. Tonight was no different . . . until we got there.

Tonight the McCormick’s B-Team was definitely being fielded. None of the regulars were there, which was disappointing and disorienting. Our favorite bartender was not there. Our favorite server was not there. Even the new — and cute! — server was not there. Maybe at some later point I’ll go into detail about how good it is for us that the regular employees are working at McCormick’s, but I’ll just sum it up in one word for now: mad-hook-ups. Anyway, it was not a deal breaker for us that the A-Team wasn’t working tonight, so we sat down and waited to be served. And we waited. And waited. And waited. Now, when you go to a bar, and 20 minutes go by and your drink order has not been taken, something is wrong. That’s a failure to provide good service. Nearly 20 minutes go by, and our server had not approached us since she cleared off our table. She started passing out happy hour menus to tables. By this time, I was watching her closely because I wanted a Guinness. I watched her hand out menus to the right of us. I watched her hand out menus to the left of us. I watched her walk out with menus away from us. Even tables that had nobody at them got menus. We got nothing. She didn’t even try to make eye contact. That’s when I gave up. In no uncertain terms, I made it clear to my buddies that I was fed up and we were to leave. So, we left in a huff.

I guess this story doesn’t have much significance to anybody besides my buddies and myself, but maybe I can help other readers to identify with this. Imagine Cheers, the bar where everybody knows your name. Now, imagine walking into Cheers and finding that not only does nobody know your name but also they don’t even treat you like a person who’s ready to drop a nice wad of cash into their pockets. It’s not a pleasant experience, and if too many of these experiences are experienced, then it will go a long ways towards destroying that special bond we had formed. I like McCormick’s, and I’m a loyal customer. However, my friends and I, as regular customers who tip heavily if treated well, deserved better.

Anyway, the moral of this story is that I don’t want this humble blog to treat my readers like how my friends and I were treated tonight. My posts are my service, and your comments and attention are your tips. By all of my own measurements, I’m tipped heavily. If there is ever a lapse in service it is because I suck, and you deserve better.

Today is St. Patty’s day. Steevak.com will be closed for business until sometime mid-afternoon on Saturday. Remember to punch pinch anybody who isn’t wearing green. Drink a Guinness. Pretend you’re Irish. Thank the Lord you’re alive and can enjoy life.

I want a GUTT

I propose a new endeavor for science. Forget about a Grand Unified Theory for physics, how about a Grand Unified Theory for traffic? Seriously, I think this would be a lot more valuable and pertinent to our everyday life than some esoteric theory only 6 people on the planet can understand and that explains how at some awfully specific moment in the spacetime continuum all the universal forces become one. What possibly value does that hold for me? GUTT would explain such phenomena as:

  1. Why does traffic suck on some days but on other days it’s fine even though nearly all external factors (e.g. weather, time of the day, day of the week, etc.) are the same?
  2. How does that horrible chain of stop-and-go start? Shouldn’t traffic still move at a relatively continuous rate albeit a slow one?
  3. Under what conditions does a green light cause drivers to do nothing?
  4. Why is it almost always impossible to be in the “fast lane” of traffic during a traffic jam?
  5. Why does the “fast lane” always become the “slow lane” when one switches to the “fast lane”? C.f. the opening scene of Office Space.
  6. What’s the exact mechanism that causes traffic reports to be given at a uselessly high rate of speed?
  7. Why do radio commercials become upwards of 10 times more annoying during traffic than when there is no traffic?
  8. What is the positive effect of completely empty and slow moving city buses in traffic?

And that’s just off the top of my head. Imagine what else it could be used to explain when other more bored people have time to think about it!

Super Bowl redux

Bob really threw down the gauntlet about this Super Bowl stuff. Heck, he called me out by name. Not too often that happens to me, but I’ve heard his piercing wail emanating from the fierce jungle of the Super Duper International Web Thingie. He displays an impressive command of football lingo and memory of the game. Clearly, he is an opponent who demands respect. However, I will not be cowed! I will not falter in fear! Behold, I, a Seahawk fan before the foundation of the world, shall demonstrate with incontrovertible proof that the officiating in Super Bowl XL sucked A. I only have 45 minutes before my internet runs out at this cafĂ© so I gotta be quick.

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