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User hands in laptop... IT find porn. Again.
I've been working in IT at a major University for several years now... and I've pretty much seen it all.

You'd think given that our University Professors are constantly pushing the boundaries of scientific research and modern knowledge they might actually have enough common sense to operate a desktop PC. You'd be wrong.

I have been called out to fix PCs that wouldn't start up. Only to find they weren't plugged into the mains.

I've had academics in my office complaining that gaydar.com won't load (an asian chap who we later discovered had a folder in his My Documents simply called MEN)

...and I've on several occasions been called out to fix faulty USB devices that were neatly and snugly plugged into network ports.

But the most disturbing case ever was a linguistic researcher with a faulty laptop. After messing around for a while trying to remove several viruses and spyware applications we decided just to back up and reinstall the damn thing. So we tell the user and set his files copying over to the server.

Before long I notice several unusual filenames in the copy dialog box. All seemingly related to hardcore bondage, and not your run of the mill blindfolds and fluffy cuffs stuff either. We're talking abandoned warehouses, metal cages and water torture (yes, I was compelled to look).

Que user dashing into the IT workshop - umm yes we're just doing the backup - oh I.. I.. I need to get something off there can I just... *sits down at laptop frantically trying to delete asian sl*ts in wet rope torture whilst his muff manna mounts up on our mainframe*

Yes, we had a full copy. In fact, I'm pretty sure Graham, who is paler than a bleach boiled cotton ball (probably never seen a splayed fanny in his life) took some home on a USB stick.

Now our general approach is to turn a blind eye to this sort of thing. If it's not illegal it's not our problem; and frankly it's all too common to find the pixellated traces of our users squish mit sessions stored on our hardware. But I digress.. finally the time came to hand his laptop back.

Deep breath, compose myself, professional approach; I start explaining to our cunning linguist how we'd restored his files and reloaded his laptop: whilst 2 feet behind him my colleague; wrists pressed firmly together, hands frantically wagging with teeth clenched down on a set of VGA cables pulls the kind of semi-orgasmic yet contorted faces that normally only leather whips and a high powered water jet can muster.

I have to admit I struggled not to laugh; and our swedish porn fiend knew. For after that he offered to take us out for beers on several occasions and would frequently arrive in the IT workshop for a matey chat. Presumably he thought that befriending us would lessen the chance we'd blab of his salty rope based pasttimes to all of campus!? Like hell.

Only that's what we thought; as on our second night of drinking with the canny lingual-one he downed a few too many bovarian lagers and told us how he liked to sexually challenge his wife. Oh yes... therein lies a story for another week.
(Thu 24th Sep 2009, 22:57, More)