If you have trouble with your phone's voicemail -- and if you give enough of a shit to actually want it fixed -- you'll call your service provider for technical support. The person you will reach will be a Tier-1 support person; their job is to take down your basic information and implement a simple set of troubleshooting steps to weed out the actual voicemail problems from the user-induced mistakes. Most of the time it's user error, so only a small portion of those calls make it up to Tier 2 support; these are the Tier-1 guys who have proven to be able to think outside of the box a little bit, and are the first step in receiving actual problem solving ability. If they can't fix it, you get kicked up to Tier-3 support, although you'd never know it since most Tier-3 folks don't interact with subscriber (that's you, dummy), but instead tinker in the innermost guts of the voicemail platform. And if they can't fix it -- and if the company has a support contract with company that made the voice messaging product -- they call into the vendor for support. That's where I came in.
And while the vest majority of the problems we fielded were of a much bigger picture -- an entire platform down so 50,000 people couldn't access their voicemail -- occasionally if a subscriber complained loudly enough, a single mailbox issue would make its way up the foodchain and be assigned to one of us vendor clowns. This happened when the subscriber was insistent that their mailbox couldn't be deleted/recreated (the equivalent to take two aspirin and call me in the morning) because they had "very important messages" they just had to save. Of all the single mailbox issues I worked on during my tenure in the telecomm world, three of them stick out in my memory. First, there was a police officer in a suburb of my home town (ironic, eh?) who was having an affair on his wife. There were perhaps a dozen voicemails from his mistress, all spanning various degrees of emotion ranging from sad to angry to horny to vindictive. They were all months old, so why the hell anyone would save your mistress's voicemails on your police department voicemail, is beyond me. The second was the mailbox of a man in southern Georgia who had a voicemail from a woman who sounded mid 40's or so. I got the sense that this was an introductory message to someone that she may have met off a swinger site/magazine, because in her message she very casually explained that she likes to go out dancing and have a few drinks and duck cock. Yep, just like that. There are lots of ways to listen to someone's voicemail
Situations like those previous two were always accompanied by me putting the mailbox on speaker phone so everyone else in the office could enjoy the fun. They in turn did the same so it wasn't uncommon to have someone stand up in the middle of the cube farm and yell, "Hey everybody, you guys gotta come listen to this." So keep that in mind the next time you call in for a problem with your voicemail. And the third instance? It was circa 2004 or so, and a very sad, very soft spoken woman called in and explained that her son had just been killed in Iraq a week earlier. At some point she realized that she didn't have any recordings of his voice; no family footage of picnics at the beach, no choppy 8mm film of birthday parties, and this was well before Youtube became as ubiquitous as it is now. She wanted to know if we could extract the greeting on her dead son's voice mailbox so that she would have something to remember his voice.
Excuse me but just when did a black and white photograph of a louvre door become something to hang on your wall and call art? John
Ernie, I'm a long time reader of your site. I suppose it's been at least since the stick figure days. I really enjoy and appreciate what you do. I especially appreciate your support of the armed forces. My brother is a major in the army. Unfortunately, I have recently found myself not looking at your site. After visiting today I realized why. I really really do not appreciate pictures of graphic open wounds, dead people, or gross images of any type. It used to be that these in paragraph links were clearly marked and easy for me to avoid. Today you have a link of dead open body but the link says "whereishisbiohazzardsuit" Pretty misleading. I expected a picure consisting of a scene with a pretty girl in it. What I got was a dead person picture that led to this email. Since the links are my favorite part of ehowa, I click on them as much as I read when I have a few moments to kill. My last 5-10 visits I clicked on graphic images that I really have no desire to see. What has been seen cannot be unseen and I find them very unsettling. I am not enjoying guessing wrong and so I am choosing not to guess without thinking about it. I hope you consider my feedback and make a minor change. I'd like to continue to be a long time reader. Thanks, Erick
Actually, I don't think that's a misleading title at all. In fact, my title raised a very valid question: if you're going to do a damned autopsy on someone, shouldn't you be wearing some sort of biohazard barrier? Here are some other titles that are subtle in their nature: A cartel doggie bag, don't click on this unholy union, and she can't shave if she can't hold a razor. But in all honesty, I suppose Erick actually does raise a point and believe it or not, it's something I've wanted to address for a while now. If you go to the pictures section, you'll see there are small 140x70 thumbnails created for all of the archived images. What I would like to implement for each of the text links that go to images, is to have those small thumbnails popup as you pass the mouse over the link, so you'll get a little preview. I have something like that implemented on the left side menus of Wikisnaps. You may have inspired me Erick. I like that idea so much, I've arranged for this girl to give you a footjob.
And if you think the faces that people make while they're playing video games is creepy, then I've got three words for you: NUDE. GAMING. PARTY. Which makes me wonder where Lucia keeps her cellphone now?
I couldn't complete this motorcycle course on my fucking scooter, let alone on my full size bike. That dude's got mad skillz. So much in fact, I think that he should have been invited to the 15th annual Hooters International Swimsuit Pageant. I mean it's just the right thing to do. Okay folks, the weekend is here, and it starts right now.
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