If ever I have a reason to deal with US immigration in future, can somebody please very politely slap me upside the head with something blunt and heavy? Thanks. They don’t seem to be in possession of a degree of inteligence lately. A 14-year-old girl ran away from home and was later arrested for shoplifting. She fed police a fake name–what 14-year-old hasn’t done that, if they thought it’d keep them from catching shit–and that name just so happened to belong to someone wanted by the Colombian government. So the police handed her over to immigration–who promptly took her fingerprints and, uh, deported her anyway. Her grandmother only found out about it, uh, this year (this happened in 2010). I wonder how long it’ll take them to undo this mess–and how much of its web sensorship practices are playing a part in why no one knew of it until, uh, 2012?

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Every so often, I’ll find a reason to slag on some company or another for craptacular customer service. Or amazingly failful equipment that requires I be in direct contact with their craptacular customer service. Time Warner has been stepping up efforts to correct that, and put the customer first, lately. Which, I suppose, made for bad times when one of their employees, while at her desk, had the nerve to die on the spot. Not to let an opportunity to extend amazing customer service go to waste, Time Warner insisted a coworker stop CPR on the woman and get back to taking calls. Now that, right there, is awesome customer focus. See, AT&T? If you took that mentality you might not be dead last in most customer related categories. You might be dead last in a couple others, like, say, employee safety, but hey, them’s small potatoes. Just ask TWC.

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I may not be entirely off base here in figuring I’d be quite loyal, at least in spirit, to the company that unknowingly came up with the perfect way to catch someone I was with cheating. Hell, I might just go out and buy something of theirs just to say thanks–I just wouldn’t risk giving it to the next person I was with, in the event it create a trust issue or two. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if that’s exactly what the unnamed poster on the Mac forums up and did after his wife’s iPhone 4S, which–yes–he bought for her, told on her. On the up side, now you folks who’re with people who have nasty little habbits like, say, leaving their cell phones at home where you can’t track them? Yeah. Have a reason to wonder why. No, I did not just tweak every living and breathing thing with a trust issue who happens to be reading this just a little tiny bit. Promise. Believe me?

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This site has comments by email. This site also has posts by email, should you be sadistic enough to subscribe to it–hey, a couple of you have, so it’s relevant. Or it did, until approximately 2 hours ago. You see, WordPress released a slightly newish version of their software last month, and one or two of the things that get some fairly regular use over here I don’t think were expecting that just yet. So they’ve kind of gone, um, squishy. I get to go digging through code later, but here’s a thing to keep a hold of–all your info has stayed put. If you subscribed to get comments to an entry by email, you’ll get comments to an entry by email–just not immediately right now, and unfortunately not retroactively either. Although, now that I think of it, your mailboxes might just thank you for that. Same goes for posts by email–although those, at least, you’ll get retroactively (don’t worry, I have sane limits on the amount of email this thing sends). The features still exist, they’re just somewhat temporarily broken. stick around, though–I’m not done twisting things into knots just yet. One of those knots might just fix themselves.

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Yes, yes, yes, I’m way behind. And I have things saved that are long overdue to be ranted upon–but the following 3 links, just… really… what more can be said?

• I get the thrill of joining the “mile high club”. Really, I do. I’d never *do* it, mostly because those seats are damned uncomfortable on their own, but I get it. Here’s the thing, though. I thought a plain was required? And no, I don’t mean to jump out of–although, nice touch, guys.
• Growing up around guns, you tend to learn two very important things. Keep them out of the reach of small children, and don’t take them to the bathroom. Well, okay, so maybe some folks only learn one. Hey, Darwin? I’ve got one.
• Very, very few folks will be familiar with my actual reason for leaving the W Ross school when I did. In terms of readership, very few folks will probably even be filliar with the W Ross. One school in New Jersey, though, seems to be borrowing right from the school’s handbook–and has decided a a no hugging policy would absolutely rock. Yeah, I’m not getting it either. But I’m probably not supposed to.
• And of course, I’m forgetting entirely the entire mess with SIPA (go internets go!) and the newest form of what the yarf from that corner of the world, CISPA (hey internet? Yeah, can we do it again?). Both bills mock themselves, but if you’re not entirely familiar with the latter, these guys have a pretty good take on it. And yeah, it’s a little bit what the yarf.

It’s amazing the things I miss when I’m being tossed in 6 different directions. And later, I get to prod the TSA in the eye with something hot. Again. God, I miss that. As for now, though, enjoy reading. Just remember the rules–if you’re gonna snark, do it in the comments. That’s why we’ve got ‘em.

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I’m not sure how, but when I attempted to post the last two entries, their titles tried very hard to run away from me. I don’t like that.It looks intact now, but let’s see what happens after a run through the post creation machine. I may be titling it again, later.

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This is what happens when life takes off at full speed. The blog tends to sit over here and do several different kinds of collecting dust. Newyears resolution: correct this malfunction, immediately. Thinga have been happening in wicked fast pace here, which naturally means I haven’t actually been even keeping up on the whole hockey thing–thanks, Shane, for at least filling me in on *most* of what I missed. Now things can calm down just in time for my team to inevitably fall apart.

The holidays are insane on a good day, which accounts for most of my time spent doing things not related to blogging. What accounts for the rest? A mutual friend of both Shane and myself came down with some pretty nifty little medical issues–some of which, some of you are already familiar with. That’s required we be a lot more not near electronics than usual around here while those get fixed and otherwise taken care of. Thankfully, she’s kind of on her way towards recovery now, which means–you guessed it–back to business as usual around here.

It’s been pretty low key on the familial front. Mother’s still working too much, dad’s still working too much, brother’s still–well, okay, nothing he does is low key but there’s not enough room in this entry for that. Oh, and–surprise of surprises–I’m single again. The reasons behind it aren’t worth going into detail publicly–again, some of you already know and the rest, well, probably have theories. But suffice it to say I kind of saw it coming. For those of you who read Jessica’s blog when she posts to it, it’ll be up again just as soon as she figures out what she’s doing with it–and if it’s actually going to get any kind of continued use. Outside of that, it’s been a pretty routine month and a bit–where routine equals anything but. but now, there’s time. And where there’s time, there’s all kinds of random. New year, which means new posting habbits, new mockery, and a new year end show to be kicked off at 9:00 tonight on Mojo Radio. Drop in, say hello, and have a listen (links are over here), while we do 2011 right–and get trashed. Look for more blog content from this corner–including my 2011 review, starting… well… later tonight or early tomorrow. Maybe. But it’s coming. In the meantime, we now return you to whatever you were doing before I distracted you.

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This probably only applies to those Canadians who read this thing. For everyone else, there’s google–or just ask a Canadian.

Remember all those jokes–half of them probably not quite joking–about the way folks over in that other province not far from here like to drive? And by drive, I mean everyone else insane? I used to think those jokes were largely, well, just jokes. Yes, even having been to and through Quebec on more than one occasion. And then, I saw this.

Ontario Provincial Police say the foursome was spotted by officers on foot patrol at around 3 p.m. on Friday along the main stretch of Lake Huron’s Wasaga
Beach, about 130 kilometres north of Toronto.

Officers say the group was observed smoking marijuana on the beach; a subsequent search uncovered more of the drug, police alleged on Sunday.

The four people, all from Quebec, were charged with possession of a controlled substance and later released from custody pending an appearance in a Collingwood,
Ont., court.

Huronia West OPP said the group’s rough weekend didn’t end there.

A highway patrol officer stopped a vehicle leaving the area while travelling 104 kilometres an hour in a posted 50 km/h zone.

Provincial police impounded the vehicle for seven days and charged the driver with stunt driving.

I have at least one Royal Canadian Air Farse skit rolling around the back of my head right now. If I can find it, it will be added to this post. For right now, though, I got nothin’. Only in Quebec.

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I want to start this entry off with a comment like “Only in America.” or something to that affect, but I don’t even know anymore. Still, this one’s from California, so do with it what you will. A Glendale man decided, rather than wait for a date with the nearest hospital to have a hernia taken care of, he’d do it himself–with a butter knife. Haven’t heard anything new on this since that particular story came out, but he was placed on psychiatric hold for 72 hours and promptly taken exactly where he should have been. No idea whatsoever why he decided to take the do it yourself route, but I guess being a little messed in the head’s a good enough reason about it. When they say don’t try this at home, though, I’m fairly sure they mean stuff kind of exactly like this. But, as they say in my favourite book series, it takes all kinds. This kind should just be kept far, far away from sharp objects.

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I am now convinced the job market’s just playing games with me. I found a job earlier this afternoon that fit my very loose requirements nearly exactly. I could do it pretty well in my sleep, it didn’t require I already be as fluent in French as I am in English, it didn’t require a college degree, and it didn’t require 80 years’ experience. Yeah, you could probably guess I was on it like a heat seakin’ missile. Fired that application off in 5 minutes or less, and had to stop myself from grinning like an idiot in spite of the fact the only other person in here with me couldn’t see it anyway. Yeah, enthused would probably be an understatement. It didn’t pay much, but at this point, I’d flip burgers if I felt reasonably confident the act of doing so wouldn’t put half of them at least on the bloody floor. So I did the thing with the thing, sent it in, then sat back with full expectation that I’d not get much back but a form letter. Well, I got the form letter. Then maybe half an hour later, I got an actual, living, breathing human being. Or at least something that pretended to be one. Hot damn, I thought. Application’s not even an hour old yet and the folks over there are bouncing things off me. So yeah, I’m all over the email. It’s a skills assessment they want me to fill out. Wicked nifty cool. This usually takes folks a week or so to get around to sending me. And that’s if they’re going to send the thing at all. Progress indeed, right? Hell, I thought so. I wasn’t sure if I’d had the battery left on this laptop to do it right then, and me not being at home until much later than, well, now, I wouldn’t be able to just randomly switch machines. So I let the battery get pretty much dead on this thing, which subsequently takes out the battery in the phone shortly afterwards–at the moment, it’s my connection to the internet. So I get both plugged in and charging, and now have all the time in the world to do this assessment. Awesome. I pull up their page type thing, go through their “this is who I am, this is why I’m here” screen, hit start test… and get dumped into an inaccessible flash object of absolutely no real use whatsoever. Well. That was highly anticlimactic, not to mention generally not recommended. Mister quick responder got a very polite, “Hey uh, thanks for this, but she no worky with my stuff” type email from me. That he’s not as of yet been as quick to respond to, but you’ll have that. So now, the job market makes me wait, again. In the meantime, anyone have use for a slightly out of practice geek? Will work for coffee.

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Just when you get to thinking maybe, just maybe, things in the cell phone market can’t reach a higher level of ridiculous, some corporate yuck’s gotta walk in and set you straight. In this case, Verizon’s more than happy to do that to me. A lady saw a miscellanious $4.19 charge for, apparently, local calls. When she called to have it explained, she was escentially told to get a lawyer and suppoena. She did one better and went solo to a judge, who escentially slappd Verizon with an order to turn over a complete and itemized bill. Oh yeah, and recommended Verizon be fined about $1000 for escentially being a collective bunch of idiots. And customers of theirs wonder why it is my default response when they tell me is I’m sorry. Wonder no more–just please for the love of anything holy, get a real carrier if such an annimal exists.

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Generally speaking, I don’t buy my equipment from your typical big box store if it can be helped just on basic principle, and because you don’t have as much flexibility when doing that. But I’ve been known to on occasion. This might just change my mind. Staples has been slapped by Canada’s privacy watchdog after not completely whiping computer and external hard drives of personal data before reselling them. This leads to such wonders as having folks’ social insurance numbers, banking info, tax crap still stored on the drive when it goes out the door. Now, somebody’s gonna apply the common sense argument of “What the hell is your social insurance number doing on your external hard drive anyway?”. Good question. But regardless to what it’s doing there, or what else didn’t get removed from the drive before Staples resold it, somebody’s not doing it right. I guess I know where I’m not getting my next drive from. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go format one of mine–just in case I want to sell it.

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When moving something like a WordPress blog from a server run by crooks to a server run by yourself, who is at least twice as cool, it helps to not be a moron and actually remember to move over your geekily hacked together .htaccess file along with it. Unless, that is, you want all your hard work to fall very |flat all over the bloody floor. Kinda like it just did. Oops. Sorry if you were actually trying to read anything on the site–I’ve fixed my broken, now.

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You are a manufacturer of computers. Most if not all of those computers will be running Microsoft software. Yes, up to and including Internet Explorer. There are techy type folks who still use Internet Explorer–mostly because what they do doesn’t yet fully support those other browsers (damn you, industry standards). You need techy type people. Or, at least, the job advertisement that just bounced off my head says you do. The application is straightforward enough–pretty basic, for a tech company. Supporting Windows and Internet Explorer and other such M$ software is pretty much a requirement of the position. I got that in about 10 seconds. So when your application does some kind of funkyness I don’t have time to figure out that makes IE choke on it? Yeah, I get concerned. I should not have had to demonstrate my ability to stop the broken pre-hiring–particularly in a forum you wouldn’t have been able to actually see until I smacked submit. Good job. I promise, if you hire me, I’ll fix you. But you’re providing the vodka.

No love,
The techy who just had to finish your application in Firefox.

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Remember this guy? Yeah, that one. US Congressman Anthony Weiner (I can’t even type that with a straight face). After being caught showing his off on Twitter, he’s been under some pressure to get help, probably resulting in some kind of medication, and give up his position–something he’s not overly inclined to do, really. I should probably leave this well enough alone, really–I mean, the guy’s already been horribly mocked, and that’s just on the blogs I follow. Well enough should be left alone, right? Except, er, um, wrong.

New lewd photos emerged of U.S. Representative Anthony Weiner on Sunday as Democratic party leaders renewed calls for him to resign over an Internet sex scandal that prompted him to seek a leave and treatment.

Bring on the next round of Weiner jokes. No, seriously. Now, it’s open season.

Edit: I fail at HTML. But what else is new?

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I’ve been making a fair few changes to things on this end lately. Mostly changes aimed at preventing things from falling flat on their faces. For the past few days, though, it’s been looking mostly like things were falling all over the place anyway. It started with my finally ditching Feedburner, while at the same time playing with the latest new addition to this blog’s feature set–you’ll find it at the end of this post. Multiple issues decided it’d be fun to crop up right around then. This blog’s RSS feeds, temporarily, did the awesomest impression of a corpse, with a path that used to be acceptable to get to the feeds in question deciding to pick around then to, well, fall flat on its face. Or so I thought. On top of that, the server was quite running away with memory usage around the same time–to the tune of over 2 gigs of reserved memory last night, for what should be at most maybe 3 quarters of a gig at peek times. Nifty. Except not. I managed to track down the memory leak to my first attempt at introducing the feature you’ll find at the end of this post, after a couple days of troubleshooting. It’s since been shot in the face. But the other issue? That was the fun one. And by fun, I mean so stupidly simple I could only have figured it out after a couple beers. Fortunately, I’d had 5 tonight so was in good shape. The RSS feeds, as it turned out, weren’t quite as broken as I’d thought. WordPress just temporarily decided to forget what it was supposed to do with them. A stupid setting on the admin side of the software developed temporary amnesia and needed to be reminded how things were supposed to look. And then reminded again, because it didn’t save the first time. Thanks, WordPress. No, really. Thanks. My technology has been conspiring to sych me out. And it damn near worked. Now, to go attempt this whole sleep thing, then try and figure out what the hell caused *this* spike in memory usage. More mockery tomorrow–I’ve built up quite a bit since things started conspiring. You’ll get to read it when I’m not halfway to Zombie City. Well, okay, if I remember.

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Disclaimer: If you’re not of a technical mind, or things like hard drive failures make you run screaming in the other direction, you may want to skip this post. Just a friendly warning from your neighbourhood undercaffinated geek. Particularly when the fake ones in question leave not just you, but your equally technically inclined roommate, staring at the computer as though it’s just sprouted its very own artificial-ish inteligence.

Take this weekend, for instance. I’m minding my own on a Friday evening, trying to invent the best and least hair-pulling way to introduce updates by email–and comments, by the way, not just replies–to the blog, when the desktop decides to throw not one, or two, or three, but nearly a dozen warning and critical error messages at my face. Everything from hard drive failures to RAM usage being critically high, to flat out memory failures. Now, keep in mind, this machine’s nearly 4 years old and just had its wireless card replaced–twice, mind you, so one or two failures of that nature wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibility. So I’m going through the usual diagnostic steps, doing what you do when you’re under the distinct impression your primary machine’s about 30 seconds from going flatline and you’ve got absolutely no spare parts kicking around, when this innocent enough looking “Windows XP Recovery” window crops up. It helpfully informs me that Windows is suffering damage possibly related to bad sectors on the drive. This along side yet another of those dialogue boxes cropping up informing me one or more IDE/SATA drives are about ready to self-shoot.

By this point, I’m more than a little WTF-ing. I *just* meaning less than a week ago, had a Dell tech out this way to replace the network card. Was I *really* going to have to have another one out to replace at least one failing drive and lord only knows what else? Not to mention the roommate just 48 hours prior to that got the pleasure of dealing with his very own failing hard drive and the replacement of same–in fact for much of Friday evening, while I was diagnosing, the running joke was that apparently hard drive failures had now become as airborn as your common virus. But I got curious. The only Windows XP recovery utilities, particularly utilities that bare that name, are usually found on the XP CD–and certainly don’t randomly show up when Windows is loaded, though sometimes I think that might be helpful. Enter that tiny little alarm going quietly off in the back of my head while I go hunting for my usual fix me tools.

I keep 3 tools one hand for incidents kinda like this one–one spyware scanner, one virus scanner, one nuke ‘em all tool. Because I was testing a theory, and if I was right it would at least manage to nail most of it, I loaded–and fired–the nuke ‘em all tool first. Sure enough, within about 2 minutes of the utility running, Windows XP Recovery took a hike. And so did its small army of warnings and alerts and whatever else managed to show up. Yay! I’m free! Except not quite. I nuked the majority of the infection, and probably caught the source, but there was still damage. Have my desktop was toast, and I’m pretty sure I was missing things out of my start menu on top of that. Nice. Wonderful. Nifty. Easily fixed.

I ran my other two tools, which took a little longer than I’d of liked to finish–but they finished and nothing broke, so I’m happy, and removed what I think might have been the last remains of the thing. Easily delt with by a simple reboot. Now, there was just the issue of half my desktop and probably some of my start menu going completely snap all over the floor. Because I was sick and tired of fighting with it, a system restore took care of that–and then some. Yay, again. I took care of what I thought needed taking care of manually, then went on the hunt for info.

Apparently, the infection I just went around with is new. Extremely new. As in I’ve seen postings as early as May 13th, but no older so far. To the tune of every forum, blog, website etc I know to check has something on it. And still, it managed to sneak by my usually pretty solid defenses.

All told, I’d way rather have just had an actual hardware failure. Or several, to be completely honest. The fake ones were a bitch to knock out. Now, to find where I hid my emergency back-up material–just in case.

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I didn’t even know there were companies out there who’d insure a property used for growing marijuana. Or, for that matter, who’d insure the actual operation for growing marijuana. Apparently, not only are there companies that do these things, but there’s actually people who want them up here–they’re currently a US thing primarily, it looks like. Yeah, people can’t aford to pay for things they need healthwise but give them their pot insurance. And just when I thought I’d seen it all. People are messed up–but, that’s why I have the blog.

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You’ll remember I made mention to the fact my caseworker, who we’re still calling Wingnut, has been sort of using privacy laws as a protective shield. To the point of even if the roommate was in the room and could give permission, she wasn’t interested. I get a call from her this morning, and suddenly, she thinks she knows where the inconsistency I’m seeing might be coming from. She supposedly has the numbers right in front of her, has both my and Shane’s case file in front of her, and would be open to discussing things with us. Keep in mind, in 4 days, whether she wants to or not, we’ll be discussing it with her in person. And Shane’s caseworker–which is probably what she’s trying to avoid. She called today, she says, with the intention of saving us a trip into town. Pity the poor girl for at least coming up with a convenient excuse–or, would that be a convenience excuse. Unfortunately, we’ve already got other things bringing us into Pembroke anyway, kind of haphazardly scheduled around the fact we were going to start our day there. So she was informed, pretty much, we’ll see you Monday. Good try though, Wingnut. Now if only you’d just tried that a month ago.

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Helen Staudinger clearly thought she wasn’t too old to have a little fun at the age of 92. The only problem? The intended object of her desire to have a little fun didn’t share that notion. After 53-year-old Dwight bettner refused to kiss her, which she’d apparently wanted him to do for a while, she left his house, went back home, and loaded her gun. A few bullets later, and poor, rejected Helen gets to spend time in jail. she only wanted a kiss. Now, she gets to play with handcuffs. Hell of a step forward.

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The following things should, in fact, be restricted from both myself and Shane for the safety of the general public.

• Any kind of network access whatsoever
• Most forms of access to the internet, or at least the less legal portions of the internet
• Any and all versions, local or otherwise, of dropbox–this includes, but is not limited to, the Dropbox website

The reasoning behind it? Uh. We’ve just managed to find a very interesting and quite creative way of putting any and all of the above to our advantage–in quite possibly the most dangerously lethal way possible. Also known as the absolute quickest way of getting material sent to multiple directions without causing mass amounts of headaches. Clearly, we absolutely must be stopped. For our own good.

PS: Sorry, Jessica. We’ve made your computer a casualty tonight. See? Told you it was dangerous.

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Oh, those whacky Italian politicians. Always getting caught in all those compromising positions. And never actually willingly being party to it. Take Italian politician Simeone Di Cagno Abbrescia, who just so happened to be using his iPad to review his material for the day, and these pictures of scantily clad women from a local escort service with some pretty otherworldly prices just, well, randomly appeared.

The Telegraph reports that Abbrescia didn’t deny the images on his iPad were, indeed, images of ladies who were scantily clad. The paper also reports that he didn’t deny that the ladies who were scantily clad were scantily clad on an escort site. Indeed, the magazine Oggi helpfully identified two of the ladies as Dollyy [sic] and Daisy, and mentioned consultation fees of 400 euros per hour, or the bargain price of 2,500 euros for a weekend.

Abbrescia, however, would like people to understand that he in no way premeditated his viewing of Daisy, or for that matter, of Dollyy. He reportedly said he simply had difficulty getting used to his iPad.

The Telegraph quoted Abbrescia as he outlined some of the horns of his dilemma:

“Normally I use my iPad to keep myself informed and to read the news agencies,” Abbrescia said. “But one can end up lingering over these sorts of, let’s say, pornographic images, which once in a while appear. It was just curiosity, I’ve never used the services of escort girls.”

Yep. Poor politician caught in compromising position. And all because of wicked evil technology making these, let’s say, pornographic images once in a while appear. I tell ya, that Steve Jobs is one evil bastard making these things do all that. It wouldn’t have anything to do with him possibly taking a queue or two from his party leader, now. Nope. It’s all the iPad’s fault. They’ve got minds of their own. Yeah, just stick with that line, Simeone. That’ll help ya.

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It’s been proven, over and over again, that there’s absolutely no such thing as a smart criminal. Most if not all of them leave a little something behind, some folks call a calling card–it’s a way investigators can trace the crime back to the one committing it. There’s only one thing investigators like better than a calling card–your cell phone. And, as Cody Wilkins learned real fast, they like that a lot.

A major snow storm had gone through Silver Spring, leaving much of the area without power, two days before he thought it’d be fun to go get himself some free stuff. So he had a dual purpose for breaking into one gentleman’s home–the obtaining of free stuff, and to juice up his phone. He figured he’d have time to grab it on the way out, after he’d loaded up on what he came for. So he plugged it in, and went about his business. The owner’s son came home unexpectedly, cutting his not very well planned routine just a touch short. Wilkins promptly took off for home and, unfortunately for him, neglected to stop long enough to collect his phone, which was still happily charging when police showed up. They picked a random number, and happened to get hold of his girlfriend, who gave them Wilkins’s name. They showed up at his house to personally tell him he left his phone, and invite him to jail to talk about it. He’s now up on 10 other burglery charges besides that one. But his phone’s charged.

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According to information recently released, Canada’s politicians spent over $600000 on booze over the last 4 years. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so, most of the booze money went to our very own department of national defense. Your tax dollars at work, ladies and gentlemen. I dunno about you, but I feel a lot safer with this knowledge. No really. Okay, no, not really. Defense folks? They have meetings for that.

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I’ve officially managed to date Jessica‘s computer. Its official age, as of right now, is older than dirt. Yesterday was an adventure in the upgrading of RAM. After finally figuring out this thing cannot keep its various periferals attached while it’s being worked on, I got to playing around with a couple 1 GB sticks I punked from Kyle while I was over there. In so doing, I think I did both Jessica and him a favour. Before me, he wasn’t sure if one of his sticks went south on him. That took all of 10 seconds to determine for absolute sure–it’s toast. As for the other? It might as well have been, at least so far as I’m concerned. This machine just plain ain’t supporting. It’s DDR2 RAM, for starters, which apparently this motherboard predates by a couple years. Add to that, I think this thing only goes up to PC2700, which well, do they even make RAM that slow anymore? So that was a fun excuse to throw open the case.

Now, it’s off to a valentine’s get together with a few friends, one of the 80 million things I love about Rochester. Mockery? Snarkery? General geekery? Yeah that’s still coming. As for now? I see food in my near to immediate future. Catch you on the flip.

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