Yesssirrreee, I am now a Certified Cisco Networking Associate Professional Engineering Architect Design Specialist with Cheese, Sour Cream and Tomatos (hereto referred to as a "CCNAPEADSWC Grande", which translated into French, Binary, then have it's vowels replaced with the ones from that goofy Microsoft Outlook font and translated back into English after being copied back down onto a Big Chief tablet by a 4 year old running on 15oz Frappachinno, 3 Ding Dongs, and one of those 5 ft. Pixie Sticks actually spells 'Loser Without A Life'...which, it turns out now that I think about it, to be frighteningly more accruate than it is funny)
And during this certification exam (and I'm about as certified these days as you can get without having some schedule time in my busy day to play with electricity while strapped to table if you know what I mean) they actually want you to take exam time to make comments on the questions. How crappy is that?
"Well we gave them 90 minutes to put as many comments on the questions as they wanted."
...of course you did, leaving out the fact that you have to actually TAKE the exam in that time as well. Oh sure, there are *only* 60 questions, but you can't go back after you answer one. So you have to answer it AND critique it at the same time. What kind of glue-sniffing trog thought of that one?
On a lighter note, I just got back from the opto on monday and she says my prescription in my right eye hasn't changed. That's good news, cuz that's the one that little redneck turd hit me with a 5 d-cell flashlight in. To this day, I'm glad the hit gashed open my eyebrow and the blood blinded me, because I'd be in jail for murdering his tobacco-spitting carcass if he hadn't. I had not been till then, nor have been since, so angry at another human being that murder seemed not only an acceptable option but one I would have gleefully carried out with my bare hands. Kinda scared the crap out of myself; and the cop thought I was crying for an entirely different reason. Wait a sec, I said lighter note....<rewind>...Oh yea, they made this 3D model of my retini..or retinas...anyhow, they both look just like a Leroy Neiman painting of an anus. How funny is that?
So she's explaining what I'm looking at, and I'm digging on her perfume by the way, and she points out my optic nerve and I'm thinking to myself "That may be what YOU call it, but I know what it looks like sugar. And judging by that, my eyes being as blue as they are is just a coincidence, lemmetellya." And I'm nodding politely trying to keep my mouth shut because I'm desparately wanting to tell her that I've been wearing glasses since I was 8 and I know all this stuff, and yes my left eye is shaped like a football, just say it FOOOOOOTBALL...don't be polite and say the cornea has a point to it in the front making several different focus points on my retina, just tell me it's shaped like Madonna's bra. You know you want to.
So....my left eye needs a bit of adjustment, so with the new prescription I pick out some silver Hugo Boss frames that are very nice (the picking out the frames part is the ONLY part of all this I enjoy in the first place) and head home. The car begins to politely 'ping' at me telling me I need gas so I stop and fill up. When I go inside to pay I get a carwash with it and they give me the slip that has the seekrit code on it to punch into the control panel. *I*, however, don't realize I can't read it until I'm next in line.
Squint...punch...squint...punch....(angry beep)...Multilply this by about three times and I finally give up and leave the line before I get mauled by the pack of impatient drivers behind me. Once I get back inside and explain that I can't read the slip, she looks at it for a second and without even a 'Hmmm' or a 'Huh', she writes down a number in pen next to it. Once I see the number written and look back at it, I can read it clear as day. I punch in the code and that one works.
I suppose the moral of all this is that no matter how simple something is, we all need the obvious pointed out to us once in a while, even if it is by a total stranger. Well, that and wash your own car ya lazy bastud.
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