SUCCESSFUL CHICKS

23:42

from the smell of steve, inc:

I started making a list of hawt chiX0rs, but then I realized that kind of shit can get one into a lot of trouble that one needs like one needs more body mass. Forget thaaat roach, duod.

I wound up at work today at 10:40 pm. Reason: service down. Culprit: Name Server. Symptom: primary hard disk failure. Cause: read head carving deep grooves into disk platter. Owee. #clues d00d dvorak said we could replace the drive's electronics if we had a similiar drive. Did that. Successful, but it didn't help the problem (see Cause:). Emboldened by the easy PCB replacement, we cracked open the user-proof case (this included punching through a couple of warranty-voiding screw covers) to see if it was something easy to fix like, say, a connector that had come loose. Now, a bit earlier we had opened a healthy drive, after scavenging its PCB for the rescue operation. The platters were like mirrors, completely smooth, perfectly flat, and class 100 dust free. The platters we saw in our sick drive were scarred by deep, grey, circular scratches, thousands upon thousands of lines incised in steel by a faulty head. "oh," we said.

Later, as I listened to Eat Static very loud and typed in name service db files, a booming noise suddenly farted up from the floor. It sounded like a radio with the volume at, oh, 105. It was ten at night and the bar downstairs had just activated its live musicians. Time for Andrew to leave now.

Hey, I fixed mail, too. Then I thought, "ya know... I just don't get as much mail as I used to." Duh. Maybe I should actually put my address somewhere on my WEB PAGE, STUPID

ASD@FOAD.ORG