My computer is still a useless lump of metal. The "official" recovery disks arrived two days earlier than the manufacturer's service folk said it would. Yay! These disks encountered the exact same error screen that my own recovery disks did. Boo! The manufacturer's solution? Send more recovery disks! I told them NO. They reassured me that these new, new disks would be at no charge! Sorry, still NO. It took several more phone calls to talk to somebody in the hardware support department. And it took two more phone calls after I was promised that would happen for them to actually transfer me. See, every time I called I would up with a different person, each of whom would ask for my case number, allegedly review the case, and then ask me to try some "fix" that two or more previous people had asked me to try. And then they'd have me run some kind of test that would take about two hours and then I'd have to call back. And I'd get somebody else. And even though I'd say I'd been promised a chance to talk to somebody in hardware they'd put me off (as in "Yes, but have you tried doing THIS?") or they'd just flat-out ignore me. Criminy. The hardware guy actually had way more on the ball than all the other service people, and he had me run some more (lengthy, excruciating) tests that told him my hard drive was fine but my motherboard was effed up. Which means it has to be replaced. So now I have to send my computer to God Knows Where using a prepaid box that they've promised to send me... and which hasn't arrived yet. But I can keep track of it on their website! Only there's no tracking number yet. Even though it supposedly shipped out last Friday. Unfortunately I can access their website on my work computer but Blogger is blocked. (Wise move!) And I don't have any friends in town who'd be willing to let me monopolize their computer for several hours a night. Go figure. Anyway, this whiny tirade is just meant to explain why I haven't been able to post in a while and why I probably won't be able to post again very soon. Dang it.
So, no Blockade Boy for the foreseeable future. He's vacationing in the Old West, or so his note says. But that doesn't mean this post is all self-pity and excuses! Are you ready for some football... commentary? Well too bad, 'cause here it is anyway.
Last Sunday I watched the Steelers-Bengals game. The Steelers is one of the two teams I'm rooting for, so this was another opportunity to tear my hair out in frustration. (The Bengals won by 8 points.)
- Pre-game trash talk from a Steeler's player (#55, didn't catch the name): "I ain't never had a problem with a bagel!" That last word is [sic], naturally. Sure sounded like "bagel" though.
- Note to self: to express frustration without saying a word, merely undo your chinstrap.
- Other note to self: purchase a chinstrap.
- With 3 seconds left before the half, according to the announcers, "Chad Johnson's going in early." Probably to touch up his roots.
- 3rd quarter: Steelers incurred a fifteen-yard penalty for "double celebration." I think I ordered that once at a Chinese restaurant.
- The announcers on Big Ben (I call him that now because we're like this) and how he throws the ball: "It doesn't come out of his hand real clean." *insert filthy joke here*
- Actual plays? I though the Steelers' reverse play in the 1st quarter was pretty cool, and also that time in the 3rd quarter when the Steelers' James Harrison managed to hold the Bengals drive to the 14-yard line. Wasn't too fond of the Steelers' Colclough bobbling a catch and then kicking the damn ball away from himself when he tried to fall on it. (Yeah, like I could do better!)
And then last night I watch the Saints pretty much destroy the Falcons, 23-3.
- An announcer on the Falcons' Michael Vick: "When he enjoys himself, we enjoy watching him!" Football, the sport of voyeurs! Also, ew.
- The Star Spangled Banner was stirring. So was the imagery of a waving American flag on those cool wraparound screens. The flag would have been even more inspiring had it not been bracketed by Budweiser ads.
- Note to self: to express happiness without saying a word, point in a random direction, swing arm around about 35 degrees, waggle my finger, and high-step like a high school drum major.
- I'm pretty sure one of the guys in the stands was also in the HBO documentary "Smashed: Toxic Tales of Teens and Alcohol." I'm glad the coma didn't stick, dude! Woo! Now put down the beer before you kill somebody.
- I'm kind of blown away by the fact that the Falcons' #5, Morten Andersen, is forty-six. Oldest player in the NFL since 1975! I'm thirty-seven, so I still have nine years to get my NFL career on track. Go, me!
- According to the text on the screen, ref Ed Honchuli is in his "17th year in NFL (15th as referee)". The first two years? Towel boy. Also, for somebody that old and leathery-faced, Ed spends some serious time in the gym. I guess that's so no angry fans try to mess with him. Me, I'd just make do with a can of mace and a rape whistle.
- Among about thirty bajillion ESPN anagram signs in the stands: "Excellence + Sean Payton = New Orleans." And lets not forget his little brother, rookie Eli Payton! ... What?!
- I didn't have a horse in the race, so to speak, so while I'm glad for the beleagured people of New Orleans that the Saints won I also feel kinda sorry for the Falcons. Especially Michael Vick. I really wanted to enjoy watching him enjoying himself.
Well, God only knows when my computer will be fixed but I'll still try to check in on Tuesdays until I can get things up and running full time. Have a good one, guys! I miss you!