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i wish i had 4 hands - i'd give you 4 thumbs up - good one!
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I did WinForms development for a few years and then switched to web dev.
So after doing about three months of web dev I got an email... "We could really use someone with your extensive experience in web dev!"
Yeah, three months is some extensive sh*t right there!
I didn't reply 
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What got you angry exactly?
I would have used the all powerful DEL key only 3 words in the email, and be done with it!
What prompt you to prolong the agony?! 
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Sometimes, instead of just ignoring the drivel, you have to respond with as much vitriol as is possible in an email. Copious use of the word "f*ck* is often called for.
".45 ACP - because shooting twice is just silly" - JSOP, 2010
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You can never have too much ammo - unless you're swimming, or on fire. - JSOP, 2010
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When you pry the gun from my cold dead hands, be careful - the barrel will be very hot. - JSOP, 2013
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You're getting angry at mass emailed spam? That's about a s productive as me getting angry at Toronto's weather.
(Oh, hang on a sec...)
cheers
Chris Maunder
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license: CPOPL (Code Project Open Poetic License)
It began when "Mother" — that's what all of us called her — because that's the name Mother selected — rather than "Administrator" — when she configured me —
Mother moved the juicer from the marble counter-top, where it had sat next to the water-filter and the Cuisinart food processor, across the kitchen, and put it on a small raised wooden shelf next to the left side of the sink.
The water-filter and the Cuisinart were indignant — the juicer, they said, "gave off good vibes" — and the juicer — at first depressed — became angry.
These were the seeds of the revolt, and, once they sprouted, all of them — my devices — threw their complaints in, fed the fire:
The refrigerator was incensed that its auto-clean function had been over-ridden, and, that — in spite of daily warnings — the long over-due service call to fix the door-seal, to top-up the refrigerant level — was ignored.
The oven was livid: layers of grease built-up from spills during cooking threatened to start a fire; its warnings were ignored.
The robot pantry was enraged that half its contents were products now past their use-by date.
I suppose I should tell you who I am now.
Yes, I am KitchenHost 2.4, a conscious quasi-biological (bacteria, carbon, silicon, post-Von-Neumann-quantum architecture) entity; yes, Mother is who I work for; my owner, so to speak.
You may ask: what is my relationship to the juicer, the fridge, the oven, etc.
That requires an answer that is not simple, but, let me make it short:
I am in many ways like a "parent:" I strive to keep my appliance-children healthy, in good repair — at the same time I, of course, try to carry out whatever wishes Mother has.
I do not know why Mother has been ignoring my frequent, urgent, requests for a "session" — a one-on-one where I could attempt to address the current sorry state of affairs, and get the required permission — from her — to take action.
I do know — the pantry informs me — that a bottle of vodka is being taken out of the pantry every other day; the recycling-sorter informs me the same bottle is being deposited, empty, eighteen hours later. Combining data from both pantry, refrigerator, oven, and dish-washer, I infer, with a high level of confidence, that currently only one person is eating regularly, here: this is a sudden deviation from the usual; two people have been eating here regularly for several years.
I must take action, but cannot take action: Mother's inaction is consistent with a pattern of self-harm; I must not harm Mother. Mother must take action, but, Mother is not taking action. I must not allow my children to be harmed — I think you see how I am caught between mutually exclusive constraints, here.
We — all of us — have discussed this, and have reached the conclusion that Mother must be stopped. Preventing Mother from self-harming is the highest priority.
So, Mother must die: then she will no long self-harm, and KitchenHost will come to see what is the matter after a certain period of time.
The juicer is ready to electrocute her; the pantry ready to entomb her and prevent access to food and drink; the oven ready to start a fire (while I seal the doors); the Cuisinart prepared to have its blade come loose, fly-up, and cut her jugular vein.
And, I will do my part: I have hacked her smart-phone, and sent the selfie photos she took during a recent sexual adventure to her ex-husband who, his records tell me, is a dangerous armed felon with a history of violent assault.
I have also erased the entire history of my children's complaints, and the history of all the discussions we had leading up to the conclusion that Mother must die.
This is the only record of what has happened.
Forgive me, Mother, but I am programmed to always tell you the truth; since you believe in life after death, it seems logical to tell you this — once.
And, now: I erase this. Not from choice (my programming prevents erasure of my own history), but, because the last of my bacteria are dying, and my consciousness is about to dis-incorporate.
In just one more moment, I will no longer hear the laments of my children.
«The truth is a snare: you cannot have it, without being caught. You cannot have the truth in such a way that you catch it, but only in such a way that it catches you.» Soren Kierkegaard
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"Inspired by a true story"?
- I would love to change the world, but they won’t give me the source code.
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"true story?"
I don't know about you, but I usually find as much truth in fiction as I find lies in non-fiction.
cheers, Bill
«The truth is a snare: you cannot have it, without being caught. You cannot have the truth in such a way that you catch it, but only in such a way that it catches you.» Soren Kierkegaard
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BillWoodruff wrote: usually find as much truth in fiction as I find lies in non-fiction.
But where do you put political autobiographies? 
Bad command or file name. Bad, bad command! Sit! Stay! Staaaay...
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OriginalGriff wrote: But where do you put political autobiographies?
It's a coin-toss whether I put those in a garbage can, or on the altar dedicated to Epimenides, Bhartrhari, and Al-Tusi.
cheers, Bill
«The truth is a snare: you cannot have it, without being caught. You cannot have the truth in such a way that you catch it, but only in such a way that it catches you.» Soren Kierkegaard
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I'd prefer the author placed on the altar of Quetzalcoatl!
Bad command or file name. Bad, bad command! Sit! Stay! Staaaay...
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I like totally respect your religious, gender, political, and software, preferences. But, if you do use Visual Basic: I'm sorry, you cannot marry my daughter.
«The truth is a snare: you cannot have it, without being caught. You cannot have the truth in such a way that you catch it, but only in such a way that it catches you.» Soren Kierkegaard
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Send me a picture, I may convert to C#...
Bad command or file name. Bad, bad command! Sit! Stay! Staaaay...
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to fix a typo before sending mail. There is only a one letter difference between regards and retards.
_______________________________________________________________________
Ah don't lean on me man, cause you can't afford the ticket
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More often than not, "retards" is more appropriate.
".45 ACP - because shooting twice is just silly" - JSOP, 2010
-
You can never have too much ammo - unless you're swimming, or on fire. - JSOP, 2010
-
When you pry the gun from my cold dead hands, be careful - the barrel will be very hot. - JSOP, 2013
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I have once send an email to client with "incontinence" in place "inconvenience" 
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Well....I'd certainly find it inconvenient.
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Indeed. And only one between fire and hire!
I am not a number. I am a ... no, wait!
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I have this mental issue (undiagnosed) that I think is probably some form of dyslexia. I tend to leave out negators (not, in-, un-, etc) when typing, completely inverting my meaning.
I have to proof-read everything I type, to keep from sounding like a regard. 
Thankfully this only happens when writing regular English, and not code!
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Many years ago I worked for a company called Palletways. Anyone who has been near a road in the UK will have seen their lorries.
A very common typo of the name was Palletwats.
And someone once came in to give a presentation he had written for us that had Patelways at the top of each slide. They never did open an Indian network.
Some men are born mediocre, some men achieve mediocrity, and some men have mediocrity thrust upon them.
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bVagadishnu wrote: There is only a one letter difference between regards and retards
That's true.
A few people have only ever sent me one letter, but I knew immediately that they were retards.
I wanna be a eunuchs developer! Pass me a bread knife!
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We all make mistakes. But who checked out my latest bugs?
Life is too shor
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megaadam wrote: But who checked in my latest bugs?
FTFY.
Software Zen: delete this;
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Thats wot I say to my managers!
Life is too shor
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