Yesterday afternoon I called Asus Support to ask a few questions. After a rather long wait listening to bad elevator music, I finally was connected to a gentleman with an Indian accent. I cringed a bit because of the tendency to outsource CS to out of the country centers, but I tried to squish my concerns and remind myself that there are good outsourced representatives... sometimes. This was one of those times. It began as it usually did, with the gentleman, who I'll just call CS, asking for the SN ID of the laptop. Looking at the bottom of the laptop there were only three numbers, an alphanumeric SN, a four digit VN, the windows OS number, and a model number. The conversation went something like this:

Me: It's 8co[blah blah blah blah]
CS: *pause* It won't start with an 8 or have letters. It's a 12 digit number.
Me: Are you sure?
CS: Yes.
Me: And it's on the bottom of the laptop, right?
CS: Yes.
Me: But there are only two numbers on here, well three actually, and one is labeled SN, one VN, and one the windows XP number.
CS: Check again. It won't have any letters.
Me: I did. Like I said, it clearly is labeled SN and it has numbers and letters.
CS: That's the serial number, and it'll be 22 numbers and letters. I need the SN ID, and that's 12 digits.
Me: There is no other numbers, and this one is *counts it out loud* 12 alpha numeric digits. The only other number is a four digit VN.
CS: That's not it. it's a 22 digit number.
Me: *getting frustrated* There IS no other number.

It went on a bit longer until I finally hung up on him, convinced he was reading from the standard customer support manual and refusing to believe he might be wrong. Refer to this site with photos of where to locate the serial number; lo and behold there are letters mixed with numbers. Now I know there are many a clueless customer who calls, but sometimes reps to just believe them when they say there are only two numbers on the sticker.

In the end I went to a local shop to ask them and, if necessary, let them deal with Asus CS for me.

This weekend I saw the new Star Trek movie, and I liked it. The actor who played McCoy, Karl Urban, was a bit over the top and “ham-fisted” as someone else described it; Simon Pegg’s performance as Scotty was a bit over the top too but in a better way; I really liked him.

What I really want to share, however, is a story about what happened before the film.

The concessions area is broken up into three parts, with cash registers on the right and left and an ice cream case and coffee area in the middle. If you want either, you must prepay at the cashiers then pick up your ice cream and/or coffee in the middle, but there is no sign, so a few people mistakingly waited in the wrong line.

Willing to pay the ridiculous prices due to thirst, I got in line. A young dark haired man in his early 20s, with stubble on his face and a baseball cap, got in line behind me. He looked like he might have had some Hispanic heritage. Behind him an older Caucasian man, perhaps in his 30s, with a ponytail and a young Asian woman got in line. Unbeknownst to me at the time the pair didn’t know each other prior to being “line neighbors”. As I waited I overheard Ponytail Man, as I shall call the latter, complaining to the Asian woman about the service at the ice cream counter. He was not, though, bitching. His comments about how slow the employee was to make once scoop of ice cream – it’s not rocket science -- were good natured and amused, not angry or exasperated. He and the woman had waited in the wrong line, thinking they could order and pay there, and he said something along the lines of “We waited for ten minutes there and now we wait again.”

He went on for maybe a minute when suddenly Baseball Cap Boy lost it. He turned around and, paraphrased, raged, “Shut the fuck up! No one cares about ice cream!” adding a nice middle school random “you’re fat” insult at the end. Ponytail Guy and the Asian girl were stunned, then the former told him to take it easy, relax. Baseball Cap Boy got mad again and cussed some more. At this point I commented, “I think it’s funny.” This angered him more, and he said something like “Oh yeah I bet you love ice cream; you love to shovel it down.” I looked at him and replied, “I liked ice cream, and apparently you had a bad day. Relax. Sheesh.” Then, with a smile, I turned to Ponytail Man and said sweetly, "So about that ice cream.... want to tell me more about it?" but he declined with an equally amused smile. His random outburst over something so trivial was ridiculous, like raging at someone for chewing or typing on a keyboard too loud.

Once at the cashiers I noticed Baseball Cap Boy paid with a credit card – he ordered a drink and sour patch kids, so I figured he was alone -- and I tried to read the name on the receipt, for I was at the register beside him, but I failed. Once I got my own drink I walked over to the ice cream counter where Ponytail Guy and Asian Girl were and we talked for a while and concluded a few things:

• Baseball Cap Boy is an angry young man, maybe on steroids, looking for a fight in the wrong place.
  
• Maybe his gf or bf dumped him today
  
• We both hoped he’d cause trouble. With over two dozen witnesses and closed circuit tv cameras I’d happily like to see him explain why he assaulted two people, one a female much smaller than him, over a discussion about ice cream. “Yes officer, I’d LOVE to press charges.”
  
• We could have laughed more at him at the time.

Once inside the theater I shared my tale with my seat neighbors, one of which I shared a bit of joke about charging for free seats – Me: are these seats taken? Him: no… for a fee. Me: I have gum. Will gum do? It’s… *looks* Trident Spearmint. Him: I love Trident. Me: Then here, you can have TWO! -- They laughed at my story and agreed Baseball Cap Boy was a nutso. We glanced around us, hoping said nutso was around, but sadly we didn’t see him. “If it was me,” my neighbor said with a mischievous grin, “I’d have gone on about ice cream, all the flavors I’ve had and my favorites.”

Too bad not everyone is as good natured.

Dear New Neighbor,

When you're moving into or out of an apartment be mindful of where you park that U-Haul.

Last weekend as I dashed out the door in one of my typical "omg I should have left 30 minutes ago" runs to the post office I was confronted by your truck behind my spot. While one of your group was busy inside, you stood outside and watch as I deactivated my alarm and opened the door. "I have to get out," I told you.

"I think you can get out," you answered, and I eyed the space. "Just angle it," or something like that you added.

"I don't think I can," was my answer, but you insisted, because evidently getting whoever had the keys and moving the truck was too much trouble. With a sigh I decided to try, but a few attempts proved it couldn't be done without a 30 to 45 degree turn that'd plant the nose of my car right into the vehicle next to me. "I can't," I said firmly, "without risking hitting the car next to me." You might want to risk it, but I'm not unless you care to pay for any damages to both our vehicles.

Finally, your husband or boyfriend or just plain friend came out and moved the U-Haul.

Now tonight your U-Haul is back. Luckily you left enough space that I could pull into my assigned parking spot, but at 9pm I heard honking outside. At some point you pulled the truck forward a bit, blocking me in. No biggie though. I'm not going anywhere tonight, but the person beside me couldn't get into her spot. For ten minutes she honked her horn: short honks, long honks, short and long and very irritated honks. What were you doing? Setting up your furniture? Unpacking? Watching TV? Finally someone came out and moved the truck, but you don't get it do you? I understand you want to be close to the door -- anyone who's moved wants that -- but you are the one who is in the way. It is your responsibility when you're blocking multiple people's spots to keep an eye on things. Check frequently that no one needs to get in or out. Listen for the sound of horns; I heard it with the tv on. Why didn't you? Perhaps you ought to open that window so you can hear better. That also keeps you on the alert should anyone decide to sneak into the open truck and make off with something, which knowing how deaf and oblivious you are I am tempted to do. Also, if you were unpacking, don't. Move that truck first then start opening boxes and putting away silverware.

Sincerely,

Me

I read this bit of advice regarding debates and/or arguments:

If you are going to argue, be prepared. The mistake most people make is to rush into an argument without being sufficiently sure of the facts for the position they are taking. The competent arguer analyses the structure of his case and knows all of the factual data available to support his position. It will automatically tell him what the weak points of his own case are. A competent arguer is entitled to feel a certain serenity before the argument even begins. The argument he plans to make is one he fully understands, and he is prepared for his opponent’s conduct.

Of course one can’t always prepare for every argument, but when it comes to online debates all it takes are a few strokes of the keyboard to do some research, and it brought to mind one person whose conduct was along the lines of: "Raaaar! *rant rant rant swear rant swear name calling rant rant*" Actually, I see this quite often on message boards and the comments of blogs, rants along the lines of "S/he's so stupid and wrong and lying!!11!!!!" but then don't explain why the opposition is wrong and stupid and what lies exactly they are telling. All they have to offer in their defense is that the other side must be wrong because they are fat or skinny or gay or straight or male or female or had toast and strawberry jam for breakfast that morning, and everyone knows that only stupid people eat toast and strawberry jam; the smart ones use orange marmalade. Whenever I read a comment or swear filled retort to something online like that I laugh. Really, is that the best they can do? The Leave Britney Alone dude did a better job. Hell, even NuttyMadame gave reasons (as insane and pointless as they were) as to why Breaking Dawn was such an ”awesome booooooook”.

That girl is frightening.

Chav is UK slang, I learned, the equivalent of "white trash" or "trailer trash".

An extravagant wedding with an expensive dream gown and hundreds of guests may not be for everyone, but if you can afford it and it's what you really want then go for it. Neon dayglow dresses that bare the midriffs of middle aged aunts and look more appropriate in Miami's nightclubs are tacky. Still, if that's what you really want, a hoochie mama wedding party or perhaps geekfest themed ceremony, it's your big day, not mine, but don't expect me not to snicker about it, especially when you obviously can't afford it.

Let's start with what may be the heaviest wedding dress at 425 pounds with 30 layers of material and 30,000 Swarovski crystals. The girl is 16. It's not too bad looking compared to later examples, but did she really need a 25 stone dress?

Family and friends took more than eight hours to dress her in the voluminous gown, which was more than 8ft wide and would not fit through the church doors. Its train was more than 60ft long and was so heavy that ten guests had to push 5ft 3in Carly up the aisle. The dress, designed by a family friend, is believed to have cost the bride’s proud father Frank more than £15,000. [Around $30,000 USD] It was accompanied by a white gold tiara, studded with hundreds more crystals. [...]

The bride arrived at St Peter’s Roman Catholic Church, in her home town of Gloucester, in the same horse-drawn carriage used for Jordan’s wedding. Three male friends were required just to lift her to the ground. More than 500 guests were there to see her marry landscape gardener Michael Coffey. But they had to wait for the privilege. While the ceremony was due to start at 3pm on Wednesday, 16-year-old Carly took so long to get ready that it was 4.15 before she arrived.

[...] Carly’s dress was created with 120 metres of silk, 1,600 metres of tulle and thousands of metres of net. Dozens of steel hoops were sewn into the skirt’s 30 layers to give support to the entire structure. After stepping out of her carriage, Carly was forced to remove three under-layers - including one of the widest hoops - from her dress to fit through the church doors. Despite its enormous weight, Carly insisted on wearing the dress throughout the wedding reception at Hatherley Manor hotel near Cheltenham. She spent most of reception sitting down, but did manage to get to her feet for the first dance of the night with her father, to the Temptations classic My Girl.[1]

A second example wedding gowns the bride should have reconsidered is this number. Talk about not leaving anything to the imagination.

The last and perhaps best worst example is the case of a sixteen year old bride and her seventeen year old groom. What daddy's little girl wants, daddy's little girl gets, and this time it was a £16,000 wedding that totaled £100,000. It must be great to have a family that can pay for your every whim right? Except, her father lives in a caravan and surfaces driveways for a living while she "hasn’t been in a classroom since she was nine and wants to be a glamour model".

Her dress, studded with Swarovski crystals, and with a 10ft wide train, was so heavy that it took ten guests to help her struggle out of the Rolls-Royce Phantom that brought her to the church. [...]

The bill was around five times the cost of the average British wedding. Missy said: ‘It cost a fortune, but I’ve always wanted a big wedding and my dad has been saving for ages to pay for it.’ [...]

The couple married six days after Missy turned 16 at St Mary’s Catholic Church in Congleton-Cheshire. After the ceremony-guests in feathers and crystals enjoyed champagne and an all-day buffet at the reception. Girls as young as nine showed off bikini tops, high heels and make-up. Guest Victoria Docherty, 23, who wore a £700 hotpants and bra outfit, said: ‘This isn’t unusual - it’s just what we do at weddings. It’s all very extravagant. Everything is paid for by the bride’s daddy.’ Missy and Thomas honeymooned in Turkey before moving into their own £18,000 caravan - a wedding gift from her parents.[2]

Photos:
Bride and Groom
The bride's mother is on the left in the bra-dress
The Bridesmaids
Flowergirls or child prostitutes?
Fake tans don't fool anyone.

The topic of idle conversation in my aisle often turns to health: organic food, weight, exercise, vegetarianism, etc. Even as I type this one women is chastising those at the Tully’s downstairs who ordered a coffee shake drink thing for the fat and calorie content, and as I post this they’re discussing how white bread has been processed too much and one must have whole wheat – not just any old wheat. Second most talked about topic: finance, including investment, retirement, and mortgages. But I wish they'd talk about technology, literature, or anything else more, because I'm tired of hearing how I should or shouldn't eat; hurrah, for inching me closer and closer to the obsessed-over-body-image precipice.

There’s nothing like knowing those who enforce the law break it. This particular cop’s infraction wasn’t serious, yet her obvious snubbing of the law and then rude gesture on camera ought to at least gain her a reprimand from her supervisor, unless her supervisor also parks illegally at lunchtime. Hey, lunch is a serious business.

Edythe Anderson, an NYPD summons enforcement supervisor, apparently thought nothing of pulling in front of a hydrant to run into a Brooklyn restaurant to grab some lunch. But the sight of it infuriated video vigilante "Jimmy Justice," 36-year-old musician and the amateur cameraman.

"They are pretty vicious giving out tickets but when they do something wrong. It's a double standard," he said. […]"Basically, I asked her, 'How come you can park in front of a hydrant? Isn't that illegal. You'd give someone else a summons,'" Justice said. As he filmed Anderson climbing back into her car, he noticed the sticker inside reminding agents to buckle up before driving. "She didn't buckle up either. She just started her car," Justice said.

( Read more...Collapse )

Someone on my friend list encountered one of them at the bookstore, and I wanted to share. The following is an excerpt. For the full tale follow the link.

[...] Here's the story; I was in Barnes & Noble in the graphic novel section (oh wait, the manga section). I was looking at the latest volume of BLEACH I think and a co-worker of mine was in the store too on her break. She came over lik,e "Oh what's up? On your way to work?". I'm like "Yeah, skimming the graphic novel section a little. Seeing what's new." This was me assuming the girl didn't know much about comics. I was right. If I'd said manga she'd probably have given "A what?" response. Wasn't in the mood for a history lesson. Most people know what a graphic novel is (the non porn kind ;p). There was this probably 15 year old girl sitting in the corner within hearing distance of us. I saw her perk up like she'd been hit or stung. I ignored her, thinking it was a coincidence. I had a feeling she'd reacted to what I said though.

I was right. Okay, she's suddenly all, "Manga." My co-worker turns to her in this curious expression and asks, "Huh? What'd you call it?". The girl huffs, "It's called MANGA!" For the record she was saying it wrong too. "Man-ga" (how it looks) instead of "Mahn-guh" or however. Ya know, the right way. I smirked, she was talking to me obviously. So I said, "Comic, manga, graphic novel, OEL, it's a book with pictures and words. Chill." Now my co-worker laughs because she's like "Yeah, seriously. Does it matter?"

Well apparently it did and we were being highly offensive to the Japanese culture. The girl stood up, slamming her copy of Fruits Basket volume 9 closed in the process. "YES it matters! Comic is English. Manga is Japanese. *thrusts FB9 in my direction* THIS is MANGA!" I could see my co-worker getting steadily confused and kinda wary. It's always fun to have someone with no interest in this kinda stuff around. A neutral view on the situation is always nice. She goes "...Ooooh is that why you were reading it backwards... I thought... well never mind *nervous laugh*. So like is it in Japanese then? You can read it?"

The manga-addict seemed taken aback. "NO! It's in English!" She was almost yelling now, stamping her feet, that were in sandals no less. It was 30 degrees out mind you. Now in true quick witted fashion I woulda been like, "Yup! It's in Japanese and I can read it *smug smile*. So yeah it's manga." And in my wrongness would have walked off before I embarrassed myself further. But no, no, no. Not all people are... smart and know when to quit. I wanted to just crack up at my friend from work though. She was seriously like, confused and so curious at this girls reaction.

Read More

Another tactic when encountering this spastic creature, the Manga Purist, is to repeatedly use the words "comic" and "graphic novel" until they spontanteously combust.

There is crazy, and then there is Crazy. Jennifer Diane Reitz (JDR) definitely falls into the latter category. She is a car crash I just couldn't help reading about.

In the early 1990s Jennifer co-founded Accursed Toys, an electronic entertainment company, with Stephen P. Lepisto, Sandi Woodruff and Eldenath deVilya then went on to create HappyPuppy.com. On one of her multiple webpages she describes herself as:

[...] an avid fan and collector of anime and manga, and is proud to call herself Otaku. She also loves science fiction, fantasy, and the collection of anime and games based toys and dolls, as well as anime and games. Her collection of games is legendary, sporting over 3700 titles, as well as every successful game machine ever released in North America, essentially turning her home into a software museum

Alright, so she has a big collection -- all that stuff and she can't buy a decent camera? -- but that doesn't qualitfy her as Crazy. Ah, but she adds, "She has green eyes with golden centers near the pupil. Her hair is dishwater blond, her skin pale and almost translucent in places." When a forty something year old woman describes themselves in such terms as "golden centers near the pupil" and "translucent" skin I start to wonder about them. I wonder even more when their true self is a sexless, shape shifting, techno-organic blob faux furry thing.

Furthermore, it’s rumored that the later sale of HappyPuppy during the dot-com boom netted them 1.4 million dollars, which they no longer have. Why? Because of JDR's game and anime hobby. And not even poverty or the need for something as essential as food and rent will keep her from her material goods.

APRIL, 2002

I need a new PC. He is too cheap shit to permit this legitimate request. I want it now, before we become so poor it is impossible to do. We are slowly going broke, I want a decent machine before all the money runs out. A decent machine to take with me into poverty, a souvenir of when we were not a bunch of fucking losers. He opposes that. I personally think it has as much to do with jealousy as with being a tightwad.

Now, He interrupts the one shining bit of true fun I have had in ages, because it is distracting from his little attempt to be 'creative'. This creativity coming at the cost of 20 years of denial of the very real and uber-powerful, genius-level creativity I possess, which we both could have milked to the point of living in a mansion by now, instead of a rented house. Which we will soon lose. With no real plan or hope of another house.

Ego trip much? It should be mentioned that she begged for money to buy that new computer on her forums and, apparently, got it. I'm rather jealous that infamous nut cases can make money off their craziness; the world is not right!

She is also originally a he who is now in a polyamorous transsexual in a group marriage . Now don't assume this is gays, lesbians, or transsexual bashing; it’s not her sexuality that makes her bonkers, it’s behavior such the following:

• Prior to completeing hormone therapy, JDR described testosterone as being a "poison" in his body that forced him to masturbate compulsively, sometimes until his genitals began bleeding.
  
• Even though JDR does not work, the main breadwinner of the household who works with a software company is constantly dehumanized and insulted by him for various reasons. In one instance JDR posted a long-winded rant calling him "a disgusting pig" for refusing to work on a creative project that only JDR cares anything about.
  
• Suffered from some heart problem late last year that threatened his life. Instead of thanking the hospital staff who saved him, he accused them of being intolerant Christians who retched at the sight of his ruined, chopped-up anatomy and tried to kill him.

[1]

Let me now address that second bullet. Some time back she attempted and failed to make game called Kokoro Wish. Her “husband” did a great deal of work on it but was unable to put together the resources, causing her to seethe with vitriol for him.

Reitz didn't actually cuss out her collaborator (one of her spouses, Stephen) in the strip, though. She just put a ton of words in his mouth and made him grovel like a pathetic worm, unhesitatingly taking the blame for all of Jennifer's failures and disappointments. Primarily, the fact that her lifelong ambition, a computer game called "Kokoro Wish," never came to fruition.
I saved the strip, because it blew my mind so completely when I first saw it. Partly because it was a such a shocking, disgusting thing to do to someone you claim to be partnered to, and partly because I was in speechless awe of such blinding, clueless narcissism.
I mean, she posted this publicly. For her fans to read. Her own ridicule wasn't enough, she was urging total strangers to loathe him for "ruining her life." My vocabulary really isn't sufficient to describe how completely vile this is. [2]

The Comic

Naturally none of it is her fault. Panic attacks prevent JDR from getting a job, but not from going to the hospital when she's sick, or waiting in line for a Wii. She can't learn to program because she was beaten by her father as a child, and she believes her father's spirit, while leaving his body, attempted to murder her as a ghost. Did her father really abuse her? Maybe, and if he did that's nothing to dismiss, but considering her personality I can't put too much faith in what she says. The woman believes her Unicorn Jelly webcomic was delivered to her by a muse from another universe, yet she thinks all religions are complete nonsense after all.

From her public diary, excerpts of which can be read here:

APRIL, 2002

It is insult to injury for me tonight. The petty villainy Stephen perpetrated on both himself and me with regard to my creativity, still pecks at me today .....by spoiling what little fragile joy I had on this night. And fragile it is too .....my joy now is so fleeting that one mean word can wreck not only tonight, but taint every attempt to recapture it in the future.

The fucker! He should be down on his loving knees apologizing to me, begging my forgiveness, and planning a schedule of serious and committed restitution for his crimes, rather than writing his little novel. He should be facing the scale, the horror of what he has done, and he should stop doing it, and start doing things right. He should be honorable, and talk things out, work things out, and face the issues. He will NOT find any real salvation in his current 'selfishness' .....he will only find it in making up for what he did wrong. The real crisis is that he is a petty bully even still, filled with jealous vitriol and self-denial, and an ego that would choke a moose. The real crisis is that in destroying my hopes and my dreams, in breaking his sworn promises to me, he as lost his very soul to a personal hell. That is his problem. That is the crisis."

Drama queen much?

DECEMBER, 2000

After nearly two years of putzing around, half of which ostensibly working hard, he has 'burned out' requiring two weeks time off. It is now well past those two weeks, and he has shown no interest in finishing his work. I will undoubtedly have to create a fuss, and force him. And all for what? So that he can putz around again, and fail to finish?

APRIL, 2002

I was having fun, real fun, with a new game on my PC [...] but Stephen come and tells me I should turn down my sound a bit- oh he is very polite and everything, on the surface, anyway- so that he can drown me out with his headphones and music so he can write. As he has been doing now for weeks.

Stephen is writing, because he is going through his little mid life crisis, and has decided that he needs to get in touch with his creativity.

The sod can't even take a break. Can anyone figure out why these two are still "married" if they can't stand each other, well aside from that no one else would probably tolerate them?

*dances*

I had the bestest unexpected chat last night, the kind that stirs up the drama pot and leaves a gelatinous film on top. You know, that lovely fatty stuff that makes you sick if you eat it.

Once more I have born witness to the cowardly and backstabbing behavior of a certain someone*. Hiding behind constant excuses of "dealing" with "stresses", this person lashes out against the world then, when her shortsighted actions add to her oh so tragic situation -- how ironic that but a short time ago her life was self labeled as perfect and happy -- sends other people to do her dirty work. Calling her actions "professional", she's turned on everyone she once called friend yet can't comprehend how this is a personal betrayal, but a professional behaves more reasonably, sending polite notices before jumping off the deep end into Psycholand. No, it is more her style to ignore emails and hide behind others.

"She does things the way she knows how to," and "when she is ready she will do something" are more familiar refrains, ones sung ad nauseum. They may all be reasons, but they're no excuse to act like a jerk. A dick by any other name...

*You need only look back a couple posts.

September 19th was International Talk Like a Pirate Day, a silly "holiday" invented in 1995, and most everyone, like it or not, doesn't take it too seriously, but sirilonwe found a girl who objected strongly to it.

She got reamed not so much for her suggestion but for the reasons she listed and her utter lack of a sense of humor. People like that take things way too seriously. For example, here are some of her statements regarding this “morally objectionable” day.
( Read more...Collapse )
So she doesn’t like doesn't like death and violence? I guess she never watches anything over a G rating. Actually, I take that back. Bambi had death despite a G rating, so she must avoid virtually all television, movies, books, comic, etc. But wait, despite being offended by the unethical behavior of pirates, her user-info states, "Cat-like, feline and don't forget it. Being a cat means preying on the weak and not caring about anyone but yourself." (She’s also into infantilism.) And why must everything be about terrorism these days, by the way?

Several people suggested she just not look at LJ for one day if it's so offensive, but she found such an idea inconceivable; after all, she paid for LJ, so they should cater to her right? Wrong. As one person pointed out, “I pay for Comcast digital cable TV, doesn't mean I can demand that they change CBS' fall lineup. We all pay for lots of services, and believe it or not, they DO get to be modified without your permission.”

After reading the thread I checked out her Journal and found two related posts. In one she stated, “Next time I challenge an internet institution such as Talk Like a Pirate day, do it in a comedy style.” The problem is, I don’t know if someone without a sense of humor can. Her next post tried to salvage her crumbling reputation by adding, “Next time livejournal style changes and forces another ‘fun’ change, i'll be asking for the option to opt out of that also. I might not actually use it but the option should be there.” Now, that’s not necessarily a bad idea, but her original suggestion and subsequent arguments focused only on TLPD. Had she worded her suggestion differently, maybe she’d not have become a target of ridicule.

( Some repliesCollapse )

Congulations Fionacat.