Sunday, March 19, 2006
Remember Sammy Jenkins |2:18 PM| This past Friday was St. Patrick's day, or as it has become "Drink green beer and then get into a colossal wreck and ruin some people's lives day."
How Catholic.
I think there should be labels passed out, or perhaps just sharpies provided, so that the message "Green piss is okay, but just today" can be affixed to people's arms. That way when all that dye is exiting their system, they don't have a heart attack and die. Or, question their own safe sex habits. "Jesus, did I get really lucky last night with an alien? Maybe a radioactive chick?"
Speaking of ruining lives, have you seen those billboards that have a picture of Jack Daniel's that say "Turning nights into stories since 18-something"?
That's clever, until you ask "How many of those 'stories' have moments like 'Later, I found out she was pregnant, and I had genital warts.' or 'That's when I lost control of the car and slammed into the minivan, killing 3 people and losing the use of my legs.'?"
Alcohol may have its place, but I still hold the marketing groups in contempt, the same as the cigarette industry.
Back to Data Recovery.
My hard drive died several months ago. Or, should I say, 3 of my hd's died several months ago. Luckily enough, I have a friend (Wonderlust) who works with Ontrack, one of the better data recovery firms around. With any luck, I'm getting a couple thousand dollars worth of work to recover my digital past.
In the trade, he's probably going to read all my chat logs with any women he knows, and dig around in my email.
I knew this, but I figure it's worth it. The worst things he could find would be awkward attempts at flirting, expired credit card numbers, and passwords for places that don't exist anymore.
Some issues did come up when he got the hard drive. The technicians yelled at him that they would never repair another Baraccuda IV. (This is the model of my drive). I guess a lot of people thought "Hey, Seagate. I trust Seagate!" and got burned in the process. They had a big trashcan of them, and even printed out a sign to stick on the door proclaiming their hatred of said drives.
Wonderlust was nice enough to take the device to electrical engineers, who "Have no rules!" are "Savages!" who "Only answer to mountain dew and cigarettes! WHich I have given them!"
Wonderlust: "If you have a god, now is the time to pray to him."
Me: "Luckily I worship the electromagnetic spectrum. In the name of the pulse, the electron, and the holy field, amen."
Him: "It'll take 6 weeks."
Me: "6 weeks? Are you kidding? How long for any kind of info?"
Him: "6 weeks."
Me: "Shit. Seriously?"
Him: "6 weeks."
Me: "Alright, then. Oh hey did you catch that file I sent you? The archive of..."
Him: "6 weeks."
Remember Sammy Jenkins |2:18 PM| This past Friday was St. Patrick's day, or as it has become "Drink green beer and then get into a colossal wreck and ruin some people's lives day."
How Catholic.
I think there should be labels passed out, or perhaps just sharpies provided, so that the message "Green piss is okay, but just today" can be affixed to people's arms. That way when all that dye is exiting their system, they don't have a heart attack and die. Or, question their own safe sex habits. "Jesus, did I get really lucky last night with an alien? Maybe a radioactive chick?"
Speaking of ruining lives, have you seen those billboards that have a picture of Jack Daniel's that say "Turning nights into stories since 18-something"?
That's clever, until you ask "How many of those 'stories' have moments like 'Later, I found out she was pregnant, and I had genital warts.' or 'That's when I lost control of the car and slammed into the minivan, killing 3 people and losing the use of my legs.'?"
Alcohol may have its place, but I still hold the marketing groups in contempt, the same as the cigarette industry.
Back to Data Recovery.
My hard drive died several months ago. Or, should I say, 3 of my hd's died several months ago. Luckily enough, I have a friend (Wonderlust) who works with Ontrack, one of the better data recovery firms around. With any luck, I'm getting a couple thousand dollars worth of work to recover my digital past.
In the trade, he's probably going to read all my chat logs with any women he knows, and dig around in my email.
I knew this, but I figure it's worth it. The worst things he could find would be awkward attempts at flirting, expired credit card numbers, and passwords for places that don't exist anymore.
Some issues did come up when he got the hard drive. The technicians yelled at him that they would never repair another Baraccuda IV. (This is the model of my drive). I guess a lot of people thought "Hey, Seagate. I trust Seagate!" and got burned in the process. They had a big trashcan of them, and even printed out a sign to stick on the door proclaiming their hatred of said drives.
Wonderlust was nice enough to take the device to electrical engineers, who "Have no rules!" are "Savages!" who "Only answer to mountain dew and cigarettes! WHich I have given them!"
Wonderlust: "If you have a god, now is the time to pray to him."
Me: "Luckily I worship the electromagnetic spectrum. In the name of the pulse, the electron, and the holy field, amen."
Him: "It'll take 6 weeks."
Me: "6 weeks? Are you kidding? How long for any kind of info?"
Him: "6 weeks."
Me: "Shit. Seriously?"
Him: "6 weeks."
Me: "Alright, then. Oh hey did you catch that file I sent you? The archive of..."
Him: "6 weeks."
Labels: Wonderlust
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