I J'accuse you

Hello ATO,



I am writing this open letter to you and publishing it in public because of your non-belief in email.



Yesterday 27 July 2011 at 5:07PM I called the ATO, and waded through the non human “press 1 to Seppuku, 2 for gerbils,,,, etc” phone system and waited, after waiting 17 minutes I got a human.



I asked said human for my NOA number so that I could do my taxes, she proceeded to explain to me that I could use the sequence number on any of my NOA forms, being the smart cookie that I am, I asked “what about the date of issue?”, she said “use the sequence number”,



Questioningly, knowing the tone of voice of a person who is in a hurry to do jack-all I had to ask “what does the sequence number have to do with the date of issue?”, she said “use the sequence number”,



With this encyclopaedic amount of knowledge distilled on me I opened my e-tax 2011 and performed my tax jutsu, loh and behold, the sequence number has absolutely nothing to do with the date of issue, furthermore the beginning of mine starts with letters, when I know for a fact that the new sequence numbers starts with …… wait for IT!!! …. awes- …. NUMBERS!!!!.



So, tax office is closed, I can’t call again, sitting here with a useless NOA letter, wondering is this what Australia has become?, lazy zero effort people, providing less than minimum effort and getting paid for it, then going home to watch Masterchef while eating Fantastic noodles and neglecting their children so that ONE DAY, their kids can raise their heads high and proud, saying “I TOO WORK FOR THE GOVERNMENT AND I SUCK AT IT… and I also live in government housing”



Praise be to the Gillard government.



Regards

Rice



PS, by reading this letter you have been charged 25c carbon tax.

Rice take s a holiday - Pt.1

In January 2008 i got on my first plane, fear is what i felt, i hate heights.

i had sent Cookies ahead of time and was at home eating canned food and noodles as i usually do when Cookie is not around, i spent 2 weeks working thru Christmas of 2007 plotting how i was going to survive this plane trip, and subsequent fear and boredom of what was to come.

You see, the flight went like this, 3 hours to New Zealand, followed by a 5 hour stay, then another 4 hour flight to the Cook Islands, then 24 hours stop over and a mini plane to Atui.

What to, what to do,

Buy a PlayStation Portable.

The time came, January 2nd, Waiting at Sydney Airport, i sort of blended in with all the Japanese tourists, even answering "Konichi Wa" when approached by little children.

Bag search, cavity search and onto the waiting area.

I sat there, passport in hand waiting for the plane, 30min to go. Flight delayed, 1.5 hours to go, check-in gate moved, 200 people running through the airport hallways.

Of course, First Class enter the plane first, followed by the Cattle class. I, like most people, glared at the First Class passengers on the way in.

I took my seat, and waited, turned off my crummy phone and waited, the anxiety creeping up my throat like a bad dinner, then the plane jolted as we rolled to the runway. Still waiting.

As plane took position, i could somewhat feel a set of traffic lights in front of the plane, Red, Orange, Green, LAUNCH!!!!!

The plane rocketed down the run way, i clenched my fists, teeth and cheeks. I didn't want to have an accident mid take off, on the display screen there was a information read out, 250km/h, OH MY GOD!!!

300km/h

All the doors on the plane shook and bags started falling out, Thank you Air New Zealand.

400km/h

The plane lifted, my stomach was still on the ground, at this point i should have been screaming, but the little children didn't seem to have the problems i did, so i held my breath untill i turned red. The plane stablised and i caught my breath.

3 hours later i was in the land of the sheep, New Zealand.

One Year Later..........

Hi Google

Thank you for the Ad-sense, the words Im singing
Thanks for all the cash theyre bringing
Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty
What would life be?
Without a song or a dance what are we?
So I say thank you for the Ad-sense
For giving it to me

Farewell email

Farewell email

Hi guys, I never got a chance to write this on my last day because of the network hitting the fan and all,

But id just like to say “Thank you” to all those people I worked with in the 18+ months I was there, it was fun.

Drinks night that was held in my honor was awesome, apologies to Thera who wanted to drink me into the ground because I was rather shattered by the time she got there, in fact, im still throwing up.

And id like to apologies to whoever gets my table, I would have cleaned up the V bottles if a certain Bi-polar manager hadn’t interfered.

Now lets get a run down on my time there, I learned from the great master Darren for a few months until he left.

In Dec 2006 things started to go downhill, for one, due the incompetence of upper-management, morale was starting to slide, its not that they were treating us badly, it was because they did absolutely nothing while we bottom feeding helpdesk staff were slaving away above the proverbial stove.

All we got was “Appreciate your efforts today, guys”, in the most insincere tone there was. Fark you.

Then around Feb 2007, Hair-plug’s was hired as our boss’s boss’s boss. I call him Iron-Fist.

Iron-Fist then proceeds to makes changes, oh big changes, as he would say. Just to show that he is boss, for the rest of my stay there Iron-Fist keeps making decisions that don’t benefit the business in anyway what so ever, if anything he screws things up so royally and then blames his underlings, People like me and my brethren. Fark that.

Iron-Fist had bad habits, like only speaking to us via correspondence, carrier pigeon or sending his hired goons. Oh BIG changes people, BIG changes.

“And still I see no changes,
Wake up in the morning and I ask myself
is life worth living should I blast myself?
I'm tired of being poor & even worse I'm black
my stomach hurts so I'm looking for a monitor to snatch”

Yup, im black, as black as Iron-Fist, the pseudo Indian.

He complained that there weren’t any Indians on the helpdesk, I can answer why this is, because all the Indians that were hired were idiots, im not racist, im just saying that people that are hired to do a certain job should be…..competent, maybe, just maybe, be able to speak English, or possibly show up for their shift every once and a while. Just saying. Is all.

My last week was the funniest of all, the attitudes expressed by the dictatorship was apparent:

Iron-Fist: “I am the manager, I rule this place with an iron fist, muhahahaha, and nothing can stop my plan of world domination, NOTHING!!!!”
Rice: “Here’s my resignation letter”
Iron-Fist: “What? Fine leave, I don’t need you”
College1: “Here’s my resignation letter”
Iron-Fist: “No, please stay; I do anything for you, ANYTHING!!!”
College2: “Here’s my resignation letter”
Iron-Fist: “If you leave me now, you take away the biggest part of me …..oooooooooooooooo, baby please don’t go.”


Good bye Hardies.

Life goes on.

I now work in the city of Sydney, its great so far.

I really like the lunch I can buy here,

Sushi lady: Tuna for you, big boy?
Me: I don't know. How is it?
Sushi lady: Ebery day you come in here and you ask the same ting. Now, it crappy yesterday, it was crap the day before and guess wat? It no change.
Me: I'll have the tuna.
Sushi lady: No crut?
Me: No crust.

There are a few things I have noticed since working in the city.
• Tube tops are perfectly acceptable business wear
• People travel from the suburbs to the City and then strut around as if its New-York
• Everything smells like pee.
• People seem to have the time to go for a jog in the middle of the day, during business hours.
• Asians travel in packs.
• The cost of food goes up; the size of food goes down.
• It’s perfectly acceptable to cross the road, any time, any where, just because you feel like it, even if there is 2 tons’ worth of Taxi flying towards you.

To you helpdesk people still at Hardies,
“We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing-grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never give up, We shall never surrender!"

Open Letter to ‘The Man’

An open letter to Telstra, all your base are belong to shareholders.

On June 15th 2007 I was moved from Bigpond Legacy platform to the new Moby platform, everything went seemingly well, my usage was reset and I could now download 12GB a month (yes I enjoy paying $70 a month for the scraps of the internet)

However the days leading up to the change my connecting would drop out every 2hrs and the problem was seemingly fixed after the migration, but now the problem has appeared again along with a host of new issues.

The contract states that after I hit my usage limit that I will be capped to 64kbps, that’s all well and good, however (I think I will be using this word a lot), on legacy the 6KBps I was getting was acceptable, usable and downright bearable. On Moby I get 3KBps, I can’t surf the web, I can’t even download my email.

Speaking of mail and the new homepage, its takes me 3mins to load the www.bigpond.com home page, haven’t you ever heard of the word ‘Simple’, i cant even use the 'Contact' link to email this to you, yet (maybe in 6 months when you fix it). I tried using webmail to delete some large files that couldn’t get through the narrow capped internet tubes, However (see what I mean) webmail doesn’t work, every click leads to a system error on the page, my inbox is now 55% of 20MB and its only been 3 days, im waiting for my inbox to fill to the brim and spill its lovely crap juices all over the internet.

Now, let me explain who I am, I was an under appreciated and over worked phone monkey for Bigpond once upon a time, certain over paid seniors used to come to ME and the team I was in for help. So don’t think that for some reason I am some retired user who doesn’t know a mouse from a potato and spends his free time writing letters to the editor. I am a computer technician, I fix my own problems, except when Telstra turns a multibillion dollar infrastructure into quivering virgin’s panties. Blood stains included.

You can say Im a little biased.

At the moment Australia is one of the only countries with usage limits or ‘caps’, why? Because our infrastructure can’t handle all the users on the network, a few years ago there was 1 month where every Bigpond user had no limits; these users brought the internet infrastructure to its knees. Other non-Bigpond users couldn’t even get to Google because of this. Thus showing that the internet tubes in Australia were designed by Nikolai Tesla and implemented by the 3 stooges, yuk yuk, yuk yuk.

However (3rd time mofos) Telstra over charges for their internet services, the only reason im on Bigpond Cable is because I wanted Cable, ADSL2 had not matured yet and I regret not being more patient. Telstra records profits of Billions of dollars a year, what do you spend it on? Trips to Thailand, I hear those lady-boys are nice. Is the money spent on pleasing the share holders, I know I didn’t get paid that well, so that money didn’t go to me, you don’t pay your contractors well, so the money doesn’t go to them, The skid marked infrastructure is leased to other ISPs, so where does all the money go? Are you building a Deathstar?

In conclusion, I like to say that when my contract is up I am moving on, not that a faceless monster of a company cares, hell you never cared about your employees why should 1 unsatisfied user matter. However (4th wind mofos) the more people you piss off the more its going to hurt you later, Who knows, its quite possible that in the near future I become the manager of infrastructure at a very large company and ill say, “Lets go DoDo, cant be any worse than Telstra”

P.S Don’t bother emailing me back, I can’t receive email, remember?

Rice’s day at the hospital

After arrival at 6am I find my room and wait a few minutes.

The nurse tells me to take off my clothes, im not sure about this; I suggest we get to know each other first, maybe some dinner. No dice.

Next im lying in bed in my assless gown, a pair of nurses wheel me to the operating floor, they crash into everything on the way. I take the time to stick my hands in front of me as the bed careens sideways; I look towards the direction of travel, pump my right foot on the ‘accelerator’ and give them a nice screeching noise while announcing “Bedo Drifto !!!!”.

The nurses are not pleased with my antics.

In the preparation room the anaesthesiologist appears and wants to drug me, schweet.
Again I tell the dude to inject it to my hand to make his day easier; he says “whatever” and does the usual doctor thing of trying to rape my arm.

While he digs around for candy in my arm, a nurse tries to distract me with questions.

Nurse: How are you doing?
Rice: Fuc…Fuc…Fine…How…Are..You…?
Nurse: Oh good. Have you eaten anything today?
Rice: You want to do this later? Im kind of in the middle of something.
Nurse: I trying to take your mind off the needle.
Man: Dammit, your skin is too think, your too fat.
Rice: What the fu-……you say……ZzzzzZZzzzZZZZZ.

2 Hours Later.

I wake up and Cookie is sitting next to my bed, I look at her, she looks and me and I collapse onto my pillow again.

2 Hours Later.

I wake up and Cookie is sitting next to me. Time to check out the damage.
Those damn nurses decided to shave my stomach; they didn’t even do a good job, I have some stiches across my diaphragm, some stiches inside my belly button and various holes that my or may not have been necessary. Im a piñata.

I sit there with Cookie, drinking water and chatting. The spider sense is tingling, I need to pee. I ask the nurse if she could take the IV out of my arm, she refuses.

I ask her what’s in the IV, she says it hydrating me. Confused looks all round as I tell her the reason I need to pee is because ive been drinking this giant jug of water, Im plenty hydrated.

However, it’s when I go to the bathroom that the real shock appears, I get up in my assless gown and clang, something hits the floor. It’s a bottle full of blood.

The bottle is connected by a tube going inside my stomach, INSIDE!!!. There also appears to be a little green wire hanging out. I am now the bionic man.

So I stroll around the hospital like a pimp and with his hoe.

I have to stay overnight at the hospital because the doctor is too lazy to see me, the screaming and mental anguish of other patients keeps me awake.
“Halp me, Halp me”, they scream. I didn’t think I was in the mental ward but who knows.

The guy in the bed next to me asks for cotton buds to shove into his ears, I think I snore too loud.

The next morning my bottle of blood is removed. The nurse tells me to hold my breath, I find this a good idea as she rips the blood tube out of my stomach cavity.
The feeling is the opposite of being stabbed. Im very glad the nurse told me to hold my breath because I know if I didn’t that there would have been a slew of curses coming from my mouth.

This surgery was to remove my gall stones, the rocks are finally out and now I can eat cheese without worry.

Lesson learned: B.Y.O Cotton buds