Profile for corinoco:
none
Recent front page messages:
Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
- a member for 18 years, 3 months and 9 days
- has posted 32 messages on the main board
- (of which 1 have appeared on the front page)
- has posted 10 messages on the talk board
- has posted 1 messages on the links board
- (including 1 links)
- has posted 17 stories and 1 replies on question of the week
- They liked 41 pictures, 2 links, 0 talk posts, and 3 qotw answers.
- Ignore this user
- Add this user as a friend
- send me a message
none
Recent front page messages:
Best answers to questions:
» Thrown away: The stuff you loved and lost.
My grandmother collected stamps, you see...
..instead of investing money in mining and petroleum shares, she bought me stamps.
Anyway, she bought a lot of them. A complete collection of Australian stamps, all of them. Even the rose-and-black kangaroos... the *really* expensive ones.
Cut to.... March, this year. The collection is kept at my parents house, on account of they have better security out in the country rather than in minimally secure city flats.
Mum decided to get it valued for me. Without asking me. Took it to a stamp dealer she heard about. Without asking me. Got it back from stamp dealer, who reported it was worth about $700, as it wasn't a complete collection.
WHAT THE FUCK?
The 'kangaroos' were missing. All of them. The stamp dealer claimed they weren't there, then claimed he lost them, then claimed the weren't there, then claimed they 'fell apart', then claimed the weren't there, then offered mum $200 for the loss.... WHICH SHE TOOK 'WITHOUT PREJUDICE'.
This upset me at the time, but I got over it. Until I heard how much a complete Australian collection sold for in New York about 2 weeks ago.
$5.5 FUCKING MILLION FUCKING US FUCKING DOLLARS
Thanks, mum. Just... thanks.
(Fri 15th Aug 2008, 4:51, More)
My grandmother collected stamps, you see...
..instead of investing money in mining and petroleum shares, she bought me stamps.
Anyway, she bought a lot of them. A complete collection of Australian stamps, all of them. Even the rose-and-black kangaroos... the *really* expensive ones.
Cut to.... March, this year. The collection is kept at my parents house, on account of they have better security out in the country rather than in minimally secure city flats.
Mum decided to get it valued for me. Without asking me. Took it to a stamp dealer she heard about. Without asking me. Got it back from stamp dealer, who reported it was worth about $700, as it wasn't a complete collection.
WHAT THE FUCK?
The 'kangaroos' were missing. All of them. The stamp dealer claimed they weren't there, then claimed he lost them, then claimed the weren't there, then claimed they 'fell apart', then claimed the weren't there, then offered mum $200 for the loss.... WHICH SHE TOOK 'WITHOUT PREJUDICE'.
This upset me at the time, but I got over it. Until I heard how much a complete Australian collection sold for in New York about 2 weeks ago.
$5.5 FUCKING MILLION FUCKING US FUCKING DOLLARS
Thanks, mum. Just... thanks.
(Fri 15th Aug 2008, 4:51, More)
» Tales of the Unexplained
I walk under street lights...
...and they go out.
It happens regularly. I have friends who have witnessed this numerous times. It freaks my fiance out when we go for walks at night when 4 or 5 in a row go out as I walk underneath.
I fear I might be some sort of dormant electrical-force-channeling superbeing or a failed Army genetic experiment of some sort.
I used to be able to 'hear' police radars - it was a high-pitched rapid chirping, which proved very useful when driving, and would freak out friends when I said "Slow down, there's a radar trap ahead" - and there was.
Now the cops use laser-based speed traps it doesn't work.
(Fri 4th Jul 2008, 7:42, More)
I walk under street lights...
...and they go out.
It happens regularly. I have friends who have witnessed this numerous times. It freaks my fiance out when we go for walks at night when 4 or 5 in a row go out as I walk underneath.
I fear I might be some sort of dormant electrical-force-channeling superbeing or a failed Army genetic experiment of some sort.
I used to be able to 'hear' police radars - it was a high-pitched rapid chirping, which proved very useful when driving, and would freak out friends when I said "Slow down, there's a radar trap ahead" - and there was.
Now the cops use laser-based speed traps it doesn't work.
(Fri 4th Jul 2008, 7:42, More)
» Being told off as an adult
Roberto the Cnut
Some years ago, I did the thankless job of IT help-desk and training. I provided support to a whole bunch of 3rd party companies, and it sucked.
One day, I got an 'urgent callout' so I dropped everything, and raced across town to this office see what 'Roberto' wanted. When I got here, the PA told me Roberto was 'out getting lunch' and would be back in 10 minutes. 50 minutes later, his mobile not answering, I left telling the PA I was too damn busy to wait around. I duly wrote up the report in the online job-tracker, saying things like "this stupid cnut didn't show up", "he has trouble doing even basic operations, like turning the PC on". That was true - he had wasted my time on numerous occasions (callouts to discover power cord unplugged, etc). However, no-one told me the job-tracker sends a copy to the client!
Roberto went balistic and threatened to sue, and demanded that I personally apologise to him, in front of his whole office; about 80 people.
I was made to do it, and had to sound sincere too; it was made even harder by the fact that very clearly the rest of his office shared my opinions of him, and were not helping by pulling faces, and holding up signs with some of the stuff I typed, all while his back was turned.
(Mon 24th Sep 2007, 1:55, More)
Roberto the Cnut
Some years ago, I did the thankless job of IT help-desk and training. I provided support to a whole bunch of 3rd party companies, and it sucked.
One day, I got an 'urgent callout' so I dropped everything, and raced across town to this office see what 'Roberto' wanted. When I got here, the PA told me Roberto was 'out getting lunch' and would be back in 10 minutes. 50 minutes later, his mobile not answering, I left telling the PA I was too damn busy to wait around. I duly wrote up the report in the online job-tracker, saying things like "this stupid cnut didn't show up", "he has trouble doing even basic operations, like turning the PC on". That was true - he had wasted my time on numerous occasions (callouts to discover power cord unplugged, etc). However, no-one told me the job-tracker sends a copy to the client!
Roberto went balistic and threatened to sue, and demanded that I personally apologise to him, in front of his whole office; about 80 people.
I was made to do it, and had to sound sincere too; it was made even harder by the fact that very clearly the rest of his office shared my opinions of him, and were not helping by pulling faces, and holding up signs with some of the stuff I typed, all while his back was turned.
(Mon 24th Sep 2007, 1:55, More)
» Airport Stories
Don't laugh, whatever you do.
In my travels, I have found it best to smile at customs officers. They have a bit of a crap job, dealing with people who are usually grumpy after spending 20 hours inside a cramped, noisy tin. (I live in Australia, so it almost always takes 20 hours in a tin to get anywhere)
Arriving home at Sydney from the US, I hand my passport to the customs officer.
"What's this?" he says.
This rings alarm bells - what have I just handed over? I look again - yep, my passport..
"My passport" I answer, smiling politely.
"Doesn't look like it" says officer. At this point he hasn't even opened it.
I should point out here that while at the Oshkosh airshow in Wisconsin, I happened to get caught in the middle of a large field in a thunderstorm - I got absolutely soaked to the skin, and my backpack leaked. Everything got wet, including my passport. It got carefully dried out under the hand-dryers of the youth hostel, and was none the worse for wear, though the cover and a few of the pages were a bit crinkly. It had obviously had a soaking, but amazingly no stamps were smudged or damaged. It had been through customs in USA, UK, France, Italy, Singapore, China, Japan and Thailand since then without a single comment. This officer, though, was special.
"What happened to it?" says officer, now looking surly.
"It got wet, in a rainstorm." I replied.
"How?" asked Officer Very Annoyed.
By this time I thought it must be a joke, this guy couldn't be serious.
"Well, I got wet, it got wet" I reply, smirking now.
"This is an important document! It's your duty to take care of it!" he blusters, waving my passport in the air.
At this point I lost my composure and started laughing - this guy is acting like the nasty inspector from 'On the Busses'
"This isn't funny!" he snaps back "This is Australian government property! It is an offence to wilfully damage a passport!"
At the word 'offence' two Federal cops appear from nowhere and begin taking an interest in this little drama.
"It is my duty to inform you that you can be charged under section blah blah blah blah..." his voice kept getting louder, by now people were moving well away from me, and I was starting to feel very nervous indeed.
The two cops now move to flank me, and the crowd moves even further away.
"If you'll come with us, sir." one of the cops says - when cops call you 'sir' you know you're in trouble...
I get led away through the crowd to a room where I fear I am to receive the dreaded cavity search.
As soon as we are inside though the cops both break into smiles
"Sorry" says one of them "I think he was just having a bad day." referring to the customs officer.
They go on to explain that they will have to search me, though, as the customs guy has reported me as 'suspicious'. They search my carry-on luggage, and breifly discuss whether they should confiscate the 2kg of French chocolate I happened to be carrying, but eventually let me go.
The lesson for today: Don't laugh in the presence of customs officials.
(Tue 7th Mar 2006, 1:04, More)
Don't laugh, whatever you do.
In my travels, I have found it best to smile at customs officers. They have a bit of a crap job, dealing with people who are usually grumpy after spending 20 hours inside a cramped, noisy tin. (I live in Australia, so it almost always takes 20 hours in a tin to get anywhere)
Arriving home at Sydney from the US, I hand my passport to the customs officer.
"What's this?" he says.
This rings alarm bells - what have I just handed over? I look again - yep, my passport..
"My passport" I answer, smiling politely.
"Doesn't look like it" says officer. At this point he hasn't even opened it.
I should point out here that while at the Oshkosh airshow in Wisconsin, I happened to get caught in the middle of a large field in a thunderstorm - I got absolutely soaked to the skin, and my backpack leaked. Everything got wet, including my passport. It got carefully dried out under the hand-dryers of the youth hostel, and was none the worse for wear, though the cover and a few of the pages were a bit crinkly. It had obviously had a soaking, but amazingly no stamps were smudged or damaged. It had been through customs in USA, UK, France, Italy, Singapore, China, Japan and Thailand since then without a single comment. This officer, though, was special.
"What happened to it?" says officer, now looking surly.
"It got wet, in a rainstorm." I replied.
"How?" asked Officer Very Annoyed.
By this time I thought it must be a joke, this guy couldn't be serious.
"Well, I got wet, it got wet" I reply, smirking now.
"This is an important document! It's your duty to take care of it!" he blusters, waving my passport in the air.
At this point I lost my composure and started laughing - this guy is acting like the nasty inspector from 'On the Busses'
"This isn't funny!" he snaps back "This is Australian government property! It is an offence to wilfully damage a passport!"
At the word 'offence' two Federal cops appear from nowhere and begin taking an interest in this little drama.
"It is my duty to inform you that you can be charged under section blah blah blah blah..." his voice kept getting louder, by now people were moving well away from me, and I was starting to feel very nervous indeed.
The two cops now move to flank me, and the crowd moves even further away.
"If you'll come with us, sir." one of the cops says - when cops call you 'sir' you know you're in trouble...
I get led away through the crowd to a room where I fear I am to receive the dreaded cavity search.
As soon as we are inside though the cops both break into smiles
"Sorry" says one of them "I think he was just having a bad day." referring to the customs officer.
They go on to explain that they will have to search me, though, as the customs guy has reported me as 'suspicious'. They search my carry-on luggage, and breifly discuss whether they should confiscate the 2kg of French chocolate I happened to be carrying, but eventually let me go.
The lesson for today: Don't laugh in the presence of customs officials.
(Tue 7th Mar 2006, 1:04, More)
» Accidentally Erotic
High school teachers
I went to an all-boys high school.
Sometimes the teachers caused, er, disruptions.
Incident 1: Latin
Latin was taught by one Mrs. K. She was tall-ish, quite slim, had *long* dark hair - down to her waist - and she didn't like to wear bras. As if to make matters worse, said teacher's name was not spelled so very different from 'climax'.
She would stand at her desk up the front, and mark students work by simply leaning over. I guess she knew exactly what this did - heck we were 15-yr olds for heaven's sake! It also meant the whole class got... very... quiet.
Anyway, one day, one of my fellow classmates obviously got enough as while Mrs. K. was leaning over he muttered a sudden 'MmmmPH! and bolted out of the classroom, bright red.
It wasn't me, honest!
Incident 2: History
History was taught for a while by a *very* fresh out of college Miss G. who was at the time dating a very popular soapy star from some show called 'Neighbours' or some such thing. Anyway, Miss G. and boyfriend had a breakup, and she was in a BAD MOOD.
She took one of my classmate's tennis ball that he happened to bring in after lunch, started pounding it against the blackboard, and proceeded to tell the whole class ALL about her relationship with said soapy star, what they had done, and where it all went wrong.
This was most likely the first time in our lives that we had ever heard a woman actually talking about the kinds of things we only read about in certain magazines. The result was a very quiet class of lads listening very earnestly, though all quite uncomfortable in the trouser.
(Sat 4th Feb 2006, 7:10, More)
High school teachers
I went to an all-boys high school.
Sometimes the teachers caused, er, disruptions.
Incident 1: Latin
Latin was taught by one Mrs. K. She was tall-ish, quite slim, had *long* dark hair - down to her waist - and she didn't like to wear bras. As if to make matters worse, said teacher's name was not spelled so very different from 'climax'.
She would stand at her desk up the front, and mark students work by simply leaning over. I guess she knew exactly what this did - heck we were 15-yr olds for heaven's sake! It also meant the whole class got... very... quiet.
Anyway, one day, one of my fellow classmates obviously got enough as while Mrs. K. was leaning over he muttered a sudden 'MmmmPH! and bolted out of the classroom, bright red.
It wasn't me, honest!
Incident 2: History
History was taught for a while by a *very* fresh out of college Miss G. who was at the time dating a very popular soapy star from some show called 'Neighbours' or some such thing. Anyway, Miss G. and boyfriend had a breakup, and she was in a BAD MOOD.
She took one of my classmate's tennis ball that he happened to bring in after lunch, started pounding it against the blackboard, and proceeded to tell the whole class ALL about her relationship with said soapy star, what they had done, and where it all went wrong.
This was most likely the first time in our lives that we had ever heard a woman actually talking about the kinds of things we only read about in certain magazines. The result was a very quiet class of lads listening very earnestly, though all quite uncomfortable in the trouser.
(Sat 4th Feb 2006, 7:10, More)