The "Swiss Army Knife Co" DOESN'T believe that there's EVER enough snow.....for their employees to stay home
. It's voluntary, so we have to use a vacation day in order to NOT go to work
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Whiskey's Corner#3
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. It's voluntary, so we have to use a vacation day in order to NOT go to work.
Evening, Kev. Yep, I work tonight, it's my Monday.
OK.....so you can put a disk into it, and download content then.....(at least that's what I'm getting from what you said).....since they gave you a virus protection disk.
Sorry!
I love those Swiss Army Knives!The "Swiss Army Knife Co" DOESN'T believe that there's EVER enough snow.....for their employees to stay home
I noticed that....as most of the computers that I was looking at that had SSD's, were only up to about 128gb's or so (for a certain price range).
Thanks. Weekends are never long enough.Sorry!
So much for the both cars being washed lol. I can control the weather. Was one car 50% chance of rain wash two cars 100% chance of rain. So what's it doing now ? You guessed it RAINING ! No big deal. I'm like an ant. You knock down the ant hill and they rebuild it. Ruin my work I do it over. One of the cars is new and I spent the whole day detailing it. Baby Jeep Renegade. Had one in Florida for a rental for three weeks and I was like I would buy this and I did! It's really a Fiat though. Fiat 500 drivetrain. Hey the Italians can build Ferrari, Lamborghini MV Augusta so no reason this shouldn't turn out good. Hopefully in like two hours I'll hear if the kid and the girl got to where they were going. Hope it goes good. Have a good night ! TTYL
I just looked, at least on mine you can't , there's no slot for it, but I don't know....DH says there's no reason to....discs are getting obsolite. Zip drives are the way to go, or down load programs from websites.
Hiya Vapin, my friend!
Products are GOOD......Working there.......well.....that's another storyI love those Swiss Army Knives!
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Have a good one Breazy!!!
I know and I miss them badlyI tell you all, Jimi and Pete not being here has me worried. They are not leaving next time without me grabbing their numbers.
You have to purchase a DVD R/W to load or do it from online.
Now that's a term I haven't heard in a long time. Zip drives were a high density hard cased version of the old 3.5 inch floppy disc that was semi-popular back in the mid 90's. I guess he uses the term for what I call a thumb drive (USB flash drive).
I keep most of my stuff on the Cloud, MS OneDrive.See shows how much I know about these new SSD's
see I mean't FlashNow that's a term I haven't heard in a long time. Zip drives were a high density hard cased version of the old 3.5 inch floppy disc that was semi-popular back in the mid 90's. I guess he uses the term for what I call a thumb drive (USB flash drive).
No laughing please
Hey, it's ok, we knew what you meant. It's just funny you mentioned a device that's been obsolete for a good while now while talking about a brand new computer.see I mean't Flash
Yea, I think his brain went to old school when I typed as he spoke.Hey, it's ok, we knew what you meant. It's just funny you mentioned a device that's been obsolete for a good while now while talking about a brand new computer.
Keep it going, I'm on a 7 year Asus, I did replace the hard drive about 3 years ago with a 7200 rpm, I'm getting a new puter based on age of this one.
No problem.....I had no idea what was what with SSD's. G'night WhisTake care, Kev, sorry about the mix up
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Have a great night everyone, Good night
Goodnight Whiskey.
Good night Whiskey.Have a great night everyone, Good night
Ok. rigs fixed.... fixed just enough to get to the shop tomorrow for the fucking check engine
Oh man!
.....you just can't catch a break with them rigs.
Hopefully Vapin, you see this tomorrow. Lenovo.com has the Yoga 710 with a 15.6" screen (with I think just about the same specs.) for the same price as the 14" model @ BestBuy. Take a lookI get it now!
This>>>http://www.bestbuy.com/site/lenovo-...lid-state-drive-black/4456400.p?skuId=4456400
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Hence why I may or may not have filled out an application to another company. just one. maybe I'll get lucky and be saved. or I'll continue to sit and rot in what swift has assured me is not a plastic prison. I'm tired of not working. I want to work. they want me to work. the truck has other plans and they don't want to hear it. it's getting to the point of me losing my mind.Oh man!
O
oh did I mention the service guy that came out told me I have some transmission damage from driving 300 miles on deflated bags?Oh man!
Gnight every one, shop time tomorrow and a few phone calls to make insert sarcastic woooo here
Evening...er, rather good morning Whiskey and friends. I'm elated to report that my baby son of 30 just got a promotion after passing numerous tests for his job as a Catastrophic Insurance Adjuster. He's be traveling the US in times of need. I'm so proud of him. He really worked his butt off for this. Now, he has full weekends off! Hmm...I don't know if that's good or bad.
LOveWerks
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@Breazy_Com, Liz and I firmly support your uncanny ability to allow your son to follow his life journey. This is what Liz and I are taught in our program-of-the-twelve-steps.
Yet, when hitting 'rock bottom' in addiction becomes like how a Super Ball (remember those?) reacts upon impact - in a repetitive fashion, for very long periods of time - then, you only have two options:
Intervention, from all loving family members; the addicted person can say either 'Yea,' or 'Nay.' Even though you love your son, @Breazy_Com - allow me to share a story about my life (the second option), and see how it may resonate with your present trials, and tribulations:
1986-'87. I was playing lead guitar, keyboards, and doing more than a third of the lead vocals - along with a little less than two-thirds of backing vocals (busy...!).
I was making bank with a vengeance. Played gigs for unmentionable parts of our government - in six months, I bought a duplex condo (with a cashiers' check), a behemoth with three bedrooms and two baths on each side; opposite entrances, with a three-hour wall at the foundation, to the roof's ridge cap...
Our band leader had already been arrested for possession with intent to distribute, of a substance made famous in the film 'Scarface;' he was arraigned, went to trial - and, due to his popularity, got three years in Club Fed.
So, we continued as we were, making beaucoup bread; I rented out the opposite side of my duplex condo, to an airline pilot.
My mashed potatoes had plenty of gravy.
Had a custom in-ground pool installed, with concrete walkway, deck, and a real Redwood fence around it. It became Party Central, and my wild days were soon coming to an end.
Due to the recent advent of ATMs, all of my regular bills were on AutoPay. No worries - twenty-five years of age, and the bass player's girlfriend cleaned my house (among other things... it's a damned good thing Hurricane Hugo laid waste to a 'personal video collection')...
Bought a water-cooled Kowalski 1100, a restored 1978 Toyota Corolla SR5 - life was, in a word, rich. Like my habits. Five feet eleven, and one hundred sixty pounds said it all. My parents would come to visit, and though they were glad to see their son, and his success - there were, indeed, feeling of disquiet. Everytime they came to visit, they brought syringes, U-100 insulin, and ketone strips. I was so WIDE OPEN, I couldn't keep track...
Until a pool party I hosted, when we had a two-week break beginning Labor Day.
On week one, I wrecked my 1970 Bonneville 455 coupe. I miraculously survived, but I was cited for DWI. I got a slap on the wrist, and had to replace one hundred yards of a farmer's fence. I was in bed, in agony, for three days. Soon, I was like the Energizer bunny, once again. Young, and bulletproof.
I was called by one of the band guys - we were double-booked. So, my vacation was extended to three weeks - and, paid for. Contracts are contracts, and I knew one booking agent who was VERY UNHAPPY.
So, week two: I wrecked my bike. No cops. More pain. Kept the bike to sell parts. The Bunny kept pounding the bass drum.
Then, the pool party. Many heavy hitters had shown up, along with this darling of a girl. I vaguely remember trying to out-do this one fellow, who had dived into my pool from a high point of the fence. I succeeded, but I had cut my head open from hitting the bottom of the pool, right at my hairline. Nasty. Head wounds bleed.
This young, macho idiot wasn't quite finished. I tried diving backward.
I remembered waking, and everyone was gone. A fellow whom I'd never met carried me into my place, and filled a plastic bag full of ice, and put it under my head. When I awoke, I had no balance. I couldn't hear. There was blood everywhere. I remembered vomiting in the worst way. Someone came, and called an ambulance. I remembered parts of the ambulance ride; yet, it was so quiet. I remember getting lifted into a gurney; my head felt completely wrecked. My mother was holding my hand, and I could see my father throwing his arms about angrily.
Then, dreamlessness. Thirteen days later, I awoke - intubated. I panicked. Then, more dreamlessness. When I awoke the second time (20? 21 days?), I could hear, but it was like being underwater. The endotracheal tube was gone. The doctor said, "You're my miracle man. We nearly had to trach you. I need to know if you understand me." In a gravelly voice, I said, "Yes."
My mother was crying; my father looked waxy-grey, and in shock, staring at the bed.
The doctor asked, "Do you want to die?"
I said, "No."
He continued: "An attorney is here. Your parents are now your guardians ad litem, and they also have medical power-of-attorney over you, son. You said that wanted to live. So -"
A guy that looked like Wally Cox, held out a clipboard (it turns out he was the hospital's notary public). The doctor asked, "Sign your name as best as you can, and your parents and I will discuss what we're going to do for you. You understand?"
I said, "Yes."
In closing, my house was sold. My musical gear was put in storage. My parents filed bankruptcy, in absentia, for me. Credit cards - gone. Job? Gone, too.
Off to a psychiatric institute I went. I had seizure and balance problems, so, they treated it with meds - due to my brain swelling. Steroidal drugs. My skull fracture had been repaired nicely, with minimal scarring. I had to be fitted with leg and foot orthotics, so that I could begin to walk. Lots of physical therapy. I was at the institute for 120 days; then, six months outpatient - then, follow-up care (from my parents, and proceeds from the sale of my place).
I didn't get my 'inalienable' rights back for a year. After all, I had been certifiable...
From there, I continued with my life, started a family, and made a good living in a band. I, being the first-born, had to attend to two funerals in two years during that time - my grandfather, and my mother's - who had been in a vegetative state for nearly eight years. I became unglued, and while all of that was going on, I fought and won my battle with cancer. The old Rolling Stones song started playing in my life...
After thirteen years of marriage, things started to go South (in more ways than one). Divorce - finalized in late 2007 - and, the beginning of the Great Recession nearly ruined my life, as I lost everything, and became disabled.
So, when I lost everything in my divorce almost nine years ago, I self-medicated to help with neuropathic and spinal damage-related pain (then, my son flipping his car with me in it - broken eye orbit, and back surgery #4), and through psychiatric treatment with therapy, I've been dealing with past issues long-buried.
Liz came into my life over five years ago, and my life is happy, joyous and free - for the most part. I still suffer from panic attacks, depression, and PTSD from traumatic memories. In 1999, I had a complete nervous breakdown; my cousin M., whom I performed music with, got me the help I needed. I joined men's groups, et cetera.
After I lost all of my gear during my homelessness, my cousin bought me an acoustic guitar, and a street amp. A sure-fire way to take her to dinner, and movies. We fell in love.
I had buried my grandfather, my mother, and my father in ten years. Divorce. Homelessness, due to disability. Still, it has been nearly thirty years since I last touched the 'stuff' that nearly killed me. A couple of backslides with different substances, due to mental and physical pain, but - I'm on the right road now. I have a beautiful lady, a beautiful house, two dogs that are the greatest - and, I'm minutes away from some of the most incredibly gorgeous nature this nation has to offer.
@Breazy_Com, this is from me, to you. I hope that it may give you some ideas for coping with, and helping your son. My parents gave me 'tough love,' and I know that we live in different times now.
Still, where there's a will, there's a way.
With love to all,
LW & Liz
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WOW!......I will say this. I'm glad that you made it, to where/the point that you are at now.@Breazy_Com, Liz and I firmly support your uncanny ability to allow your son to follow his life journey. This is what Liz and I are taught in our program-of-the-twelve-steps.
Yet, when hitting 'rock bottom' in addiction becomes like how a Super Ball (remember those?) reacts upon impact - in a repetitive fashion, for very long periods of time - then, you only have two options:
Intervention, from all loving family members; the addicted person can say either 'Yea,' or 'Nay.' Even though you love your son, @Breazy_Com - allow me to share a story about my life (the second option), and see how it may resonate with your present trials, and tribulations:
1986-'87. I was playing lead guitar, keyboards, and doing more than a third of the lead vocals - along with a little less than two-thirds of backing vocals (busy...!).
I was making bank with a vengeance. Played gigs for unmentionable parts of our government - in six months, I bought a duplex condo (with a cashiers' check), a behemoth with three bedrooms and two baths on each side; opposite entrances, with a three-hour wall at the foundation, to the roof's ridge cap...
Our band leader had already been arrested for possession with intent to distribute, of a substance made famous in the film 'Scarface;' he was arraigned, went to trial - and, due to his popularity, got three years in Club Fed.
So, we continued as we were, making beaucoup bread; I rented out the opposite side of my duplex condo, to an airline pilot.
My mashed potatoes had plenty of gravy.
Had a custom in-ground pool installed, with concrete walkway, deck, and a real Redwood fence around it. It became Party Central, and my wild days were soon coming to an end.
Due to the recent advent of ATMs, all of my regular bills were on AutoPay. No worries - twenty-five years of age, and the bass player's girlfriend cleaned my house (among other things... it's a damned good thing Hurricane Hugo laid waste to a 'personal video collection')...
Bought a water-cooled Kowalski 1100, a restored 1978 Toyota Corolla SR5 - life was, in a word, rich. Like my habits. Five feet eleven, and one hundred sixty pounds said it all. My parents would come to visit, and though they were glad to see their son, and his success - there were, indeed, feeling of disquiet. Everytime they came to visit, they brought syringes, U-100 insulin, and ketone strips. I was so WIDE OPEN, I couldn't keep track...
Until a pool party I hosted, when we had a two-week break beginning Labor Day.
On week one, I wrecked my 1970 Bonneville 455 coupe. I miraculously survived, but I was cited for DWI. I got a slap on the wrist, and had to replace one hundred yards of a farmer's fence. I was in bed, in agony, for three days. Soon, I was like the Energizer bunny, once again. Young, and bulletproof.
I was called by one of the band guys - we were double-booked. So, my vacation was extended to three weeks - and, paid for. Contracts are contracts, and I knew one booking agent who was VERY UNHAPPY.
So, week two: I wrecked my bike. No cops. More pain. Kept the bike to sell parts. The Bunny kept pounding the bass drum.
Then, the pool party. Many heavy hitters had shown up, along with this darling of a girl. I vaguely remember trying to out-do this one fellow, who had dived into my pool from a high point of the fence. I succeeded, but I had cut my head open from hitting the bottom of the pool, right at my hairline. Nasty. Head wounds bleed.
This young, macho idiot wasn't quite finished. I tried diving backward.
I remembered waking, and everyone was gone. A fellow whom I'd never met carried me into my place, and filled a plastic bag full of ice, and put it under my head. When I awoke, I had no balance. I couldn't hear. There was blood everywhere. I remembered vomiting in the worst way. Someone came, and called an ambulance. I remembered parts of the ambulance ride; yet, it was so quiet. I remember getting lifted into a gurney; my head felt completely wrecked. My mother was holding my hand, and I could see my father throwing his arms about angrily.
Then, dreamlessness. Thirteen days later, I awoke - intubated. I panicked. Then, more dreamlessness. When I awoke the second time (20? 21 days?), I could hear, but it was like being underwater. The endotracheal tube was gone. The doctor said, "You're my miracle man. We nearly had to trach you. I need to know if you understand me." In a gravelly voice, I said, "Yes."
My mother was crying; my father looked waxy-grey, and in shock -, staring at the bed.
The doctor asked, "Do you want to die?"
I said, "No."
He continued: "An attorney is here. Your parents are now your guardians ad litem, and they also have medical power-of-attorney over you, son. You said that wanted to live. So -"
A guy that looked like Wally Cox, held out a clipboard. The doctor asked, "Sign your name as best as you can, and your parents and I will discuss what we're going to do for you. You understand?"
I said, "Yes."
In closing, my house was sold. My musical gear was put in storage. My parents filed bankruptcy, in absentia, for me. Credit cards - gone. Job? Gone, too.
Off to a psychiatric institute I went. I had seizure and balance problems, so, they treated it with meds - due to my brain swelling. Steroidal drugs. My skull fracture had been repaired nicely, with minimal scarring. I had to be fitted with leg and foot orthotics, so that I could begin to walk. Lots of physical therapy. I was at the institute for 120 days; then, six months outpatient - then, follow-up care (from my parents, and proceeds from the sale of my place).
I didn't get my regular rights back for a year. So, when I lost everything in my divorce almost nine years ago, I self-medicated to help with neuropathic and spinal damage-related pain (then, my son flipping his car with me in it - broken eye orbit, and back surgery #4), and through psychiatric treatment with therapy, I've been dealing with past issues long-buried. Liz came into my life over five years ago, and my life is happy, joyous and free - for the most part. I still suffer from panic attacks, depression, and PTSD from traumatic memories. In 1999, I had a complete nervous breakdown; my cousin M., whom I performed music with, got me the help I needed. I joined men's groups, et cetera.
After I lost all of my gear during my homelessness, my cousin bought me an acoustic guitar, and a street amp. A sure-fire way to take her to dinner, and movies. We fell in love.
I had buried my grandfather, my mother, and my father in ten years. Divorce. Homelessness, due to disability. Still, it has been nearly thirty years since I last touched the 'stuff' that nearly killed me. A couple of backslides with different substances, due to mental and physical pain, but - I'm on the right road now. I have a beautiful lady, a beautiful house, two dogs that are the greatest - and, I'm minutes away from some of the most incredibly gorgeous nature this nation has to offer.
@Breazy_Com, this is from me, to you. I hope that it may give you some ideas for coping with, and helping your son. My parents gave me 'tough love,' and I know that we live in different times now.
Still, where there's a will, there's a way.
With love to all,
LW & Liz
).
LOveWerks
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Beautiful picture and post LW
Good morning Kev
Thank you, @Whiskey - I took ALL of the pictures from our gambling trip, and got them all down to below 2 mB.
Let me know when you want me to let 'em rip
...LW & Liz
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