It isn't thrillseeking...

Recently, a double-amputee was killed after being thrown from a roller coaster.

Some journalists characterized him as a thrill-seeker.
Facking Ritards.

There's a difference between trill seeking, and realizing the truth--that anything you do can get you killed.  That you are in more danger of dying in an accident while driving to the amusement park than you are from an accident at an amusement park.  

We in the military are in an inherently dangerous business, one that we try to make safer by recognizing the dangers, doing what we can to reduce the dangers, but knowing that we will still, regardless of the risk, accomplish the mission.  That doesn't make us thrillseekers.

Being ready to take life on our own terms--being able to decide that I am responsible for my actions, to take risks, to enjoy our lives as the same as anyone else--and to challenge ourselves to restore our lives and to even take on new challenges--it's what healing is all about.

I once had to re-learn to walk, to write, type, hold a glass, and simply use my hands to function like every other person, because a terrorist asshole named Luay Najim al-Samurai set off a bomb at my feet.

My boundaries will not be set by him.  No journalist will decide for me what is safe behavior, what is the reasonable or rational or prudent thing to do, because I've yet to meet any journalist who has ever risked their lives for any cause greater than self.

Today I took another step closer to recovery... because I did something I've never done, but always wanted to do.  I did it because I have a very good friend who will do dumb things with me.  I did something that is seems dangerous, and does indeed have the possibility of death, but the drive to it was far more dangerous than the activity.  I'm living my life--which is more than I can say Luay, who stretched a rope in 2005.

But I really do need to add, for those journalist that would call my activity simple thrill-seeking, and you terrorist assholes who keep trying to kill us:

Suck it.

--Chuck and Code Monkey

I know where I want to retire

It's this town.

Suspected flag burner pilloried
Alleged offender hunted down, ridiculed after incident at VFW post

By BOB GARDINIER AND HUMBERTO MARTÍNEZ, Staff writer
First published in print: Saturday, September 26, 2009
VALLEY FALLS -- The young man was given three choices: get turned over to the police, go one-on-one in a fight with a seasoned war veteran, or be duct-taped to a flagpole for six hours with a sign around his neck identifying his alleged crime: flag burning.


It was the third option that would still have the small town buzzing a week after a 21-year-old was hunted down and forced to endure a public humiliation with its roots dating to the Middle Ages. Members of the Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 1938 were incensed enough to tie up the man last Sunday after they accused him of setting the flag in front of their building on fire.

Post Commander Nick Normile, a Vietnam War veteran, said the man came into the post's bar Sept. 18 on Poplar Avenue and was eventually turned away for not having a proper ID.

Apparently angered, the young man, who Normile did not want to name, cut the rope of the American flag flying overhead and used a cigarette lighter to set it on fire, Normile and others said.

The man sat pilloried as the village had its fall youth soccer picnic with a long parade of children passing in front of him.

"He'll never disrespect the flag again, I can tell you that," Normile said.

Normile said the flag had at one point flown over U.S. troops in Iraq had special significance.

Veterans, both local and nationwide, responded to the event as accountings were posted online to the official VFW Facebook page and national Web site. Comments posted supported the act and added ideas for further punishment.

Other nearby business owners said they knew of the event but refused to give an accounting. Unconfirmed reports by citizens said the alleged flag-burner was a relative of a previous commander of the post.

Calls made to the alleged flag burner and a spokesman for the national VFW organization for comments were not returned. The Rensselaer County Sheriffs office confirmed knowledge of the event, but said they were not involved. State Police in Brunswick were contacted, but a trooper said no record of the event could be found.

The flag will be disposed of at a formal ceremony, Normile said.

Well, That was interesting

So I fnially got parolled from the ICU.

Here's the whole story. Went to work yesterday, same as usual. Pain in my arm was typical everyday pain. Sat in a lecture given by Gen (ret) Gordon R. Sullivan. About 20 minutes into the lecture, I statred having chest pains.

I informed my classmate that I was having chestpains, and was going to go to the bathroom and see if some cold water would help thing s out, and that if I wasn't mack in 15 minutes, I'd be going to the ER.

I never made it back. I went potty, got a drink, then walked up to the security guard an told him I was having chest pains. He sprang into action, getting me seated, getting someone to call 911, and getting a nurse and some medics from a nearby flu-shot line to come help. They were all tremendous.

Sooner than I imagined, the meat wagon arrived, and asked if I wanted to go to Cushing Hospital or the VA. Hmmm... I chose Cushing.

The got me to the ER at Cushing, giving me aspirin and nitroglycerin along the way. Nitro goves you a BAD headache, by the way. At Cushnig, they gave me morphine, which has the same effect as giving me a lollipop. Doesn't help the pain at all. Then we moved up to dilaudid, which helps, but makes me ITCH. Then up to my old friend fentanyl, which is like gravy that covers all the cracks in your brain and makes you feel extra-smooth groovy. (Street names for fentanyl include Apache, China girl, China white, dance fever, friend, goodfella, jackpot, murder 8, TNT, as well as Tango and Cash.)

They did an EKG, to a chest x-ray, and ran bunches more tests, then decided that I needed to stay overnight. Since I now knew it wasn't a heart attack, just pain that felt like I had a burning javelin going through my chest and out my armpit, I didn't want to stay. I have better things to do with my time than lie around getting fentanyl injections. My ER doc wuold have none of it. My options were stay put and STFU, or go AMA (against medical advice) and go home. Carren was the decider, she told me to shut the fuck up and do what I was told. Needless to say, she was worried. So they stuck me in the ICU for monitoring and to check my enzyme levels for 24 hours.

Now, I've got the IV on one arm, along with the blood pressure cuff (sphygmomenometer,) and the left arm is too scarred to draw blood from. So I tell the vampire blood tech to just take it from my foot. So that was where she drew blood every four hours. It's funny the things you get used to...

Anyway, in the ICU, I get a new doctor. Remember, ICU stands fro Intensive Care Unit. I saw my Doctor twice in 24 hours. The first time was when he was asking if my pain was being managed (it wasn't, I needed a bigger dose of fentanyl) and he asked about loritab which is tylenol and dilaudid. It was then that I realized he must've gone to medical school with Michael Jackson's doctor. I explained to him that taking me to a less powerful drug, in pill form, would not help alleviate pain, because it a) takes time to absorb, and B) if strong medicine doesn't work, weaker medicine isn't likely to help. He told me that ANY drug, including IV injections, take 30 miutes to start working. (This is where my blood really began to boil. I KNOW that's bullshit, because I know that the absorption delay is based on the amount of time it takes to get to your bloodstream through the digestive tract, and putting the drug directly into the bloodstream means it goes directly to to nervous system, brain, and happy place.

I told him I wanted fentanyl or a new doctor.

I got my shot.

That was the last time I saw him until today. I asked the nurse repeatedly when he would make rounds, and she didn't know, as the doctors do so on their own schedule. I then asked to talk to the next higher person on the food chain, becuase if I didn't see my DR by 1200, I was walking out of that place AMA. My nurses were, once again, awesome. They were really swamped for some reason, but they were positive and cheerful, and as helpful as they were knowledgeable My nurses seldom had to ask me if I was in pain, because they were on the spot with pain meds, and when they did ask, they already had the shot ready.

My Doctor showed up at 1155, and ordered a heart sonogram, and then told me I had to wait for the results. I told him I would wait for the test until 1230, and that when the test was over, I was leaving, even if they hadn't read the tests, because a different doctor had to do the reading, that doctor wasn't there, and I just knew my doctor wouldn't stick around waiting. So rather than put up with all this nonsense for a flippin' cramp, I had the test and he released me. (So I wouldn't go AMA, which meant he would have to explain my reasons for doing so.)

I took off all my probes, monitors, and even pulled my IV, cleaned the room, policed up my belongings, thanked the nurse, and I left.

The heart sonogram tech even said I had a beautiful, textbook heart, and given my pulse and blood pressure, she was sure I was an exercise fanatic. I told her she was mistaken, I've smoked for close to 20 years, only run when chased, and thrive on controlled chaos and a steady diet of anger and regret.

She was shocked, shocked I tell ya....

Anyway, I am home, the Mrs. is taking a well deserved nap, and I am sweating out the last of the narcotics. Even mini-withdrawal sucks.

Thanks to all who sent their prayers,and the friends and family who called and helped with the kids, too.

--Chuck

Defense of the Castle

Today was a Good day. Alerted that the denizens of the castle may be under observation, and possibly assault, saw that a demonstration, or possibly a show of force may be needed. I issued a quick Warning Order to the Family Squad, then departed the AO to secure Class V from Cabelas and Class VI from the Class VI store. (No GO #1 at the castle, you see.)
By the time I'd returned, the boss had finished some PT to get her adrenaline up, and the kids were all aflutter. I loaded the weapons into the truck, then das dummer Hund, the boss, the dismounts, all the errata that goes with them, and we were off to the castle.

We started with the tour of the realm, then the showing off of really cool stuff, (which was mostly me and the Armorer, and the Dismounts and The Boss doing their Cavalry Re-certification. I too was re-certified, while das dummer Hund tried to get either stepped on or kicked in the head by the horse.

After the showing of cool things, I was given a grand tour of the Armory, (I am in total awe) and then we moved to the ramparts to conduct a show of force. First, the dismounts practiced their sidearm drills, then the boss showed us all how it was possible to shoot right handed, but use the left eye to aim. The dismounts then demonstrated their sniper techniques.
The Armorer then demonstrated his knowledge of obscura mechanica, firing a weapon that I am sure Saladin himself once used. I then used my mad skilz with the bammy shooty (for you marines who may be using this) and demonstrated to any would-be spies my ability to sling lead and dispense with soul-cleansing flames of 7.62 x 39 wrath and scunion.

The Castle remains free.

Note:* If anyone thinks that my children are too young to do these things, tough. They are my kids. I get to decide that, not you. Just because your slack-jawed mouthbreather can't muster enough sense or attention span to pay attention and learn how to exercise their specific, enumerated right, doesn't mean that my children cannot learn to do so. If you think you can provide a rational, reasoned argument why I should not encourage and teach my children to safely handle firearms, please, by all means, do so. First, explain it to my dog:

Yes that is a pancake on his head. It makes as much sense as you do.

--Chuck

PARA donation to GBR-IV

Mr. Completely just found out what PARA is donating to the GBR-IV raffle.

He says it best: WOW.

And all proceeds go to Valour-IT.

--Chuck

The best scene from the best movie ever made.

Girls with guns

Team Chuck Z--Angels and Asphalt Fundraising Page

Team Chuck Z--Angels and Asphalt Fundraising Page

Folks who aren't all there, riding for folks who can't be there.

Thank you for donating. We're a consortium of Milbloggers, SoldiersAngels, Riders, and ChuckZ--the sadomasochistic cripple who goads us into doing these things! We ride to push ourselves, and to show other wounded warriors that they, too can continue to achieve and excel. Chuck was wounded in 2005, and on the road to recovery, no one rides alone. Donations go towards the Face Of America Bike ride, and World T.E.A.M. (The Exceptional Athlete Matters), who hosts this event and many others for wounded warriors.

P.A.I.N.

Okay.

Carren and i have decided to sell the house for this move. If you know anyone in western PA who is looking for a place to live, and can swing a $158 K mortgage, they'll be happy.

The particulars:
Single story ranch with partially finished basement. Appx 1500 Heated square feet, 2 car garage, hardwood floor, 1960's construction, gas heat, fireplace, BIG yard (which I have worked diligently to keep nice), less than 1/4 mile to LOWE'S, 2 miles to Indiana University of Pennsylvania, 2 miles to Walmart, 2 Miles to downtown Indiana. 900 feet to the elementary school. 2 full baths, 3 bed rooms, laundry in basement, LOTS of built-in storage in basement, including a sewing table, large kitchen remodled in 2005, new cabinets/appliances, gas stove, large living room and dining room, foyer.

Speaking of dilligent yard care, that's what Carren and I did today. Take out old mulch, put down new weed mats, plant new azeleas, replace mulch, put in new borders. Mow yard and trim, pressure wash house. Dig up wildflower bed in back yard, burn compost on top, till in to soil, replant new hummingbird/butterfly mix.

Replaced broken exterior light with motion sensing lights. Pressure wash exterior stars to basement. Plant new grass seeds on bare spot on lawn.

Then everyone grabs a shower, we go to Eat n' Park (also less than 1 mile away) for dinner, and I come home for a nightcap comprised of 1600mg motrin, 2 vicodin HP (1320 mg paracetamol and 20 mg hydrocodone) a heating pad and time on the T.E.N.S. Unit.

--Chuck

Innyerendo

It's Ishtar Friday, Holy Friday, or whatever. That magical time of the spring when Jesus comes out of his cave, and if he sees his shadow and runs back inside, we'll have six more weeks of lent, and all the bunnies will shit colored eggs. Meanwhile, muslims will continue to fornicate with goats, regardless of the shadow outcome.
Or something. I really shoulda paid more attention in Sunday school.

Anyway, I figure there's no wrong way to eat a rhesus, and no right way to segue into this:



Or this



Or this



Happy Friday, and remember, God doesn't want you to eat meat on Friday during lent because... um... every time you do, Buddha kills a kitten.


--Chuck

2009 Military Blog Conference

Matt posted the original, I just stole his work.

Hey, folks, the 2009 Military Blog Conference registration is open. Hotel rooms are going fast, too, so make sure to reserve one (with the discount for the conference). Carren and I will not be attending this year, although we may be able to pop in for a drink or thirty during the evening. I'm riding in the Face of America bike ride, which is unfortunately the same weekend. Laughingwolf from Blackfive is riding too, as is the first soldiersangel I ever met, Kathleen.

Some details:

April 24-25th

- It's in DC this year. All events are at the Westin Arlington Gateway (where the rooms are being held).
- The opening cocktail reception will have a charity theme to it so you can have refreshment and help raise money for a good cause. (And it will be really fun!)
- The panels are still being formed but look to be different from years past.
- There is a field trip on Sunday to visit some historic tanks. (Again, I really wish I could be there.)

Go here to reserve your seat for the conference.

Go here to reserve your room with the Milblog discount.

Things I would do if I were an astronaut

Daily funny

Why men don't write advice columns

Dear Walter,

I hope you can help me here. The other day I set off for
work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I
hadn't gone more than a mile down the road when my engine conked out and
the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's
help. When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our
bedroom with the neighbor lady. I am 32, my husband is 34, and
we have been married for twelve years. When I confronted him, he
admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. I
told him to stop or I would leave him. He was let go from his job six
months ago, and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed
and worthless. I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the
ultimatum he has become increasingly distant. He won't go to counseling
and I'm afraid I can't get through to him anymore. Can you please
help?


Sincerely,

Distraught in North Carolina


Dear Distraught,

A car stalling after being driven a short distance can
be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there
is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses
on the intake manifold and also check all grounding wires. If none of these
approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty,
causing low delivery pressure to the carburetor float chamber.


I hope this helps.

Walter

Shit detail

Many moons ago, when deployed to Kuwait as a young shavetail butterbar, we didn't have the obscene amenities that are de rigueur on even the most spartan FOB today. it took about a month before we had a shower--which was little more than a shower head beneath a tank of water, the purpose of which was not to get you clean, but to get the funk off of your body.

We lived in tents, we peed in tubes made from lengths of water bottles taped together and buried in the sand, and we built a three-hole crapper that used 50-gallon steel drums, cut in half, to collect solid waste.

Daily, these three cans were pulled from the crappers, carried to the edge of the perimeter, and then we added three gallons of diesel and two gallons of gasoline, and ignited the mixture. It was stirred with a long metal picket, to ensure the fire kept burning and the waste was thoroughly turned to ash. When the fuel had burned away, the remnants were buried.

A company of 100 men can fill those three cans every day. Especially when eating MREs twice a day. The smell of those fires is quite unforgettable.

The shit detail--a name which applies to every job in the Army that is mindless, or unsavory, or otherwise necessary but has little redeeming value. I was reminded of the term tonight while I watched the daily lotto drawing right before the news. I only played the lotto once in my life, when the Georgia powerball was something like $400 million. Even then, I only bought one ticket. I won't break down the numbers, but lotteries are really just a tax on people who are bad at math. Everyone has the same chance of winning, and those chances are so small as to be nearly non-existent. Buying more tickets doesn't increase your chance of winning either, because each ticket has the same chance, and they are based on a single opportunity.

It isn't the lotto that is the shit detail. The guy who does the drawing is the guy with the shit detail. Every night, he goes to work, since the drawing is at 11 PM. He puts on his tuxedo--because it's a snazzy affair. He introduces the drawing, and the randomly selected geezer who is there to verify everything is on the "up and up." Then, he drops the numbered balls into their vacuum tank things and they bounce around until one pops up, and he reads the sequence of numbers.

That's his whole job, ten minutes, tops. That includes the amount of time he spends getting into the tuxedo. Every weeknight, working at 11 PM, calling out numbers. I'm sure he's vastly qualified for this job, he probably has advanced degrees in theoretical mathematics and many years of practical experience as the bingo caller at the local firehall.

Either way, it's a shit detail.

--Chuck

Picture fun

No. Effing. way.

I think American Idol just broke a law. They had George Michael on stage with a bunch of this years' entertainers.

Last I checked, some of those entertainers are minors.

Also, last I checked, George Michael was a registered sex offender.

Isn't forcing minors to work with sex offenders somehow illegal?

Regardless of the legality, Michael looks like quite the eurotrash these days. Must come from a lifetime of douchebaggery.

Chiroux redux

Sometimes I get interesting email. Instead of the offers for rolex watches, cialis, viagra, levitra, penis enlargement and belly reduction, how to make women swoon, ways to let my products sell themselves (which, apparently, is not a way to get the kids involved in prostitution, despite how it sounds), offers to help the thousands of people in Africa who have millions tied up in trust that they are willing to share with me (if I'll just provide them my bank account information) -- really, if we could just free up the millions held in trust, we could make Africa into a major superpower, and finally the forty or so lotteries I win every day in Europe, after wading through all that, I get a gem like this:

I came across your blog (http://tcoverride.blogspot.com/2008/05/matthis-chiroux.html) in the course of a Google search on Matthis. I have not met him, but I am a friend of the family. I do not agree with much of what he is doing right now, but did have to say this.

He is a military photojournalist and a good one. Google results for other than the present situation will lead you to examples of his work. He did, in fact, serve in Afghanistan. I do not know what he saw there.

Like you, I feel that his reasoning for taking this stand is specious. Constitutionality of the war in Iraq and elsewhere has been established. Talk of "war crimes" is entirely too reminiscent of the cowardly John Kerry's testimony before Congress. I have yet to hear Matthis or other members of IVAW ennumerate specifics. I fear that Matthis is being manipulated by the cynical Left and that, despite his intelligence, he is serving as a "useful idiot".

Every point you raise in your blog is valid except the conclusion about Matthis' character. Whatever his reasoning, he cannot be accused of cowardice. He is doing what he is doing knowing that he is liable to encounter the full force and might of the U.S. government. He is willing to face loss of benefits, standing, and even imprisonment.

Unfortunately, whatever happens will only serve to reinforce his beliefs.


Richard


Oh, you know I can't let that one go.

Here's my reply:

He is doing what he is doing knowing that he will face neither the force of the government nor anything but the scorn of those he once called brother.

Let me let you in on a dirty little secret: The US military has neither the time, nor the manpower to hunt down and prosecute people who choose not to answer the letter sent to them recalling them to active service. We don't "bring them to justice" as it were. The IVAW is well aware of that, and uses these "I refuse to deploy because of this illegal, immoral, BushCheneyHalliburtonCompany blah blah blah" grandstanding speeches for publicity alone.

He starts by saying how much of a dumb country bumpkin he is. But he's studying law at Brooklyn college, isn't he? So I would assume, even if he's in his first year of pre-law, that he understands things like hearsay, perjury, and prima facie evidence. He took pictures as a photojournalist. Hoo-ray for him. Don't confuse Army photojournalists with Army Combat Camera. They are two COMPLETELY different things. One is most likely to send pictures of the new chow hall opening and the other are the guys carrying cameras into combat, to capture the truth-in-fact on the ground. If Abu Gharib taught the civilian world nothing else, it's that when the military has evidence of 'war crimes' or any other illegal activity, we investigate it fully and actually punish those responsible. It doesn't serve our purpose in the contemporary operational environment fighting a counter-insurgency to cover up or ignore allegations of atrocity, it only causes us to lose credibility in the eyes of the civilian population, and helps the insurgents recruit more people to blow us up.

He is willing to face loss of benefits, standing, and even imprisonment, and he should lose them. He is in breach of the contract he signed. He is refusing to deploy. He has zero proof of any wrongdoing, and yet he refuses to go. He has made broad accusations against an Army and a country that he has sworn to protect. He has no honor, he has no integrity. Courage of convictions, regardless of whether or not your convictions are right, doesn't make your actions right. The people of the south fought to maintain slavery. They were convinced it was right and just. Was it?

The Spanish conquistadors sought to find and convert native peoples to Catholicism, making them turn away from their heritage, customs, and religion, often at the point of a sword. They knew in their hearts that they were saving these native savages from themselves, and certain damnation. Did that make them right for doing so?

Even the Nazis who ran concentration camps were certain that Jews were less than human and that what they were doing was right, and even proper.

The point I am making is that his refusal to go makes him a coward. If he really believes that atrocities have been committed, wouldn't the courageous thing be to go to Iraq and do what he could to limit or expose atrocities? Wouldn't the courage of convictions he has that tells him of the wrongness of the war be the driving force in him to go and change what he could, where he could? As a sergeant, maybe he would be able to tell one soldier not to shoot when the situation didn't warrant it. Since he has chosen to "bravely run away" from his obligations, that young soldier won't have him there to tell him if his target is confirmed or not. A soldier may go without the benefit of a sergeant who has been in a combat zone before, and can help to keep him alive in the crucial first 100 days.

The only people I do feel sorry for are his family. A father who has to look at his son as an embarrassment every time he sees a soldier in uniform (or god forbid if his father is a veteran), a mother who knows her little boy will never be recognized for anything other than quitting the most important calling of his generation.

I stand by my opinion. He is a coward of the most repulsive sort, a sunshine patriot, and a pussy.

I've laid in my own blood and pus in a hospital ward, and the first question I consciously remember asking, even after I knew the severity of my own wounds, is "When can I go back?" I personally know scores of men--some missing multiple limbs, asked their doctors that same question. Men don't do that so they can rush back overseas and commit war crimes. We aren't monsters. We want to go back because we see that what we are doing in Iraq is a just, righteous, and humanitarian cause.

I stand by my opinion.

GI Film festival

2008 GI Film Festival

The second annual GI Film Festival will take place in Washington, DC from May 14-18. In addition to film screenings and other fun happenings, the festival will present a series of panel discussions.

The festival has added a panel on milblogging to this year's agenda.

The nation’s military blogging community (Milblogs) prides itself on providing military news and context that you won’t often find in the mainstream media. Join some of the nation’s most popular milbloggers in a spirited discussion on how GIs and military families are portrayed in the media and on film. For more information about Milblogging, see www.milblogging.com, the world’s largest index of military blogs.

Runtime: 01 hr : 30 min

Me, Carren (The Mrs.) , Matt, The Donovan and Bill Roggio will be sitting on the panel. If you're in the Washington area, get a ticket to attend.

--Chuck

Academia

So, I'm spending another Friday at work--at a university with no students. My day consists of reading email, answering questions like "Why did I get a B when everyone else got an A?" (because grades are performance based, not on how well you compare to your peers, but on how well you performed based on your previous performance. The whole Army thing.) and waiting to be handed documents to sign. I think I may have reached the end of the internet a few times.

This is about as close to in-school-suspension as an adult can get, I think. If I'm lucky, I'll see maybe two people all day.

The most exciting thing today is reading emails sent from the world's dumbest smart people, academics. It's no wonder Johnny can't read, if these dolts are the ones doing the instruction.

It all started innocently enough with a mass distro email (names redacted to protect the innocent and the mildly retar--cognitively challenged.):

In preparation for the annual power outage that is scheduled for this weekend we will shutting down all administrative PC's early Saturday morning before the outage is scheduled to begin. It is also recommended that before leaving your office for the day that you turn off any printers in your area.

If there are any questions please feel free to contact the IT Support Center.

Thank you.

I started the clock. People here are notoriously thick when it comes to understanding things like "reply" vs "Reply all" and can't look at an email sent from "it-admin-network-clients@" to "it-admin-network-clients@" and determine that it wasn't sent just to *them* and they may need to look at the signature block on the email to see who they really need to reply to.

That notwithstanding, they did come up with some of these pearls to share with the university:
(again, names redacted)

"What about scanners?" sent from The School of Graduate Studies and Research

"Should we turn off our PC's or will you do that?" sent from Financial Operations office.

"I do not have the option of shutting down my computer. I can only log off. Will that suffice?" sent from Major & Planned Giving, University Relations

So I emailed the IT support center, and told them this:
You should take the names of each and every last one of these dolts and not only pull their accounts, but you should take the PCs from their offices, lest they hurt themselves when the cup-holder electrocutes them.

I'm sure there will be more to follow, I'll post as things get funnier.

--Chuck


of course, no sooner do I hit publish than we get this from the mail room:

Do we log off our meter as normal and also the package scanner?

No, power surges and outages have no effect on package scanners, postal meters, as they are run by a combination of magic, good intentions and underpants gnomes on rehabilitative training to connect to Al Gore's teh intarweb. They contain no "circuits" or "processors" that can be damaged.