<obligatory "Nick's Prom Night" joke>All it does is this endless clicking noise.
<obligatory "Nick's Prom Night" joke>All it does is this endless clicking noise.
No porn, actually. I just stream mine.FTFY.
Also, you can probably take it someplace to recover the data, though I've no idea what the cost on that is.
It often starts right around $800, and I've seen it go as high as $2500.I've no idea what the cost on that is.
There are two holes for the phone in the back of the modem. I have tried both to no avail. I seriously think it's because of the crappy wiring job, which I've always thought was going to break at one time or another.Plug the phone back into the right socket?
I mean, try the easiest stuff first, right?
--Patrick
So many people throw their RJ11 into one of the RJ45's and then wonder why it doesn't work.There are two holes for the phone in the back of the modem. I have tried both to no avail. I seriously think it's because of the crappy wiring job, which I've always thought was going to break at one time or another.
I'm so tempted to write up a fake tech support call now in the style of this.That's the nerdiest porn ever.
A good effort, I give it a C+. I would've given you a B- if you hadn't blown "then" and 110 baud.It's the kind of thing that would turn your 3-1/2" floppy into an 8" hard drive. That makes you start your input/output with a 110 baud handshake, th[e]n fall forward and back until your data pump is running at a full 56k, followed by a packet burst ATH0. So hot it needs a liquid-cooled heat sink.
iPhones lead to so many boners.I knew the baud thing was coming. I can't type very well on an iPhone.
I'll try to play Devil's Advocate, since I can be a raging caveman jackass like your dad.Had a big fight with my father on the way home from work tonight. I was complaining that the shifts they gave me for next week were later than what I put down for my availability. One of the things that I asked for was regular, consistent day shifts. I do this for my mental health in order to have some semblance of consistency and maybe a routine. Which are both things that helps many people with depression. Certainly me.
Of course, Dad having no tact and seemingly ALWAYS saying the wrong thing, says that's bullshit and I just don't want to work later or night shifts. And then continued on to say that I'll never find a job that isn't shift work and I certainly won't find one that will give me all day shifts.
I'm so fucking sick of him. He's a constant, ongoing barrage of negativity and criticism. Do you know, I was seeing a counselor recently who was always saying something positive or trying to spin things I was saying in a positive light? I'm so used to negativity and criticism that it felt so wrong and off-putting. Not to mention the fact that Dad's name is on my bank account, which he constantly monitors and asks me about whatever I'm spending. Or if I've paid this bill or that bill. Or badgering me about money. Money money money. That's all he ever talks to me about. Student loans, credit cards, tax returns. Anything with money. God forbid he try talking to son about ANYTHING else.
He's never even bothered to take the time to TRY understanding my mental health. When I was in the hospital back in 2000, after my major suicide attempt, a doctor had a meeting with my parents and my sister. The doctor pulled a book down from the shelf and tried handed it to Dad and said, "This will help you understand what your son is going through."
Dad's reaction? He literally turned his nose at it and said, "Oh, I don't read books." Except, you know, any book that has to do with tennis or sports. Because who fucking cares that your son almost threw himself off a bridge, right?
I'm trying to spin a positive out of what you're saying about him.
That'd be fine if either of my parents - who I sadly live with at the moment - would balance out the negativity and criticism with at least SOME positivity. But all I hear from them. Not just to me. To everyone. To themselves. Fun fact: the only reason my parents don't divorce is because they wouldn't be able to financially support themselves apart. They sleep in different bedrooms and any tiny thing means they snap at each other. That's the environment I've lived in all my life (minus the years I didn't live with them).Negativity and criticism is part of life, man. I know you've got depression issues, and I'm certainly no shrink, but I think learning how to deal with that shit instead of ignoring it or avoiding it is what makes you appreciate the positive and good aspects of life. And I'm not singling you out or anything, I'm just not a fan of the "surround myself with only positive people crap". Why? Because critical and negative people will always exist, and if you wrap a bubble around yourself, it'll hurt all the more when it pops. My philosophy is to temper oneself, that way garbage negativity -like your dad being critical about complaining over work shifts- just rolls off your back.
I think if you put your foot down on some things (like your finances), your dad will start respecting you as a man and an equal. As far as your depression goes, he might never accept it (or live in denial about it). Whatever though, that's his problem and his loss as a vehicle to bond with his son. Don't let bullshit like that drag you down. Like I said, it sucks that he can't be a confidant for you, but that's why friends and significant others exist! He's your dad. You should love him and respect him, but that doesn't mean he needs to be your best friend. I hope that helps ease off some of your anger towards him.
Oh and funny enough, a great website for financial advice and personal finance is Art of Manliness. I've picked up some great shit from articles there.
It absolutely would help. But I can't with the job I'm at now. It's minimum wage and I'm lucky if I get 30 hours a week.Are you in a position to get your own place? I think that could help a ton.
Damnit Nick, stop being an exact replica of my own situation.That'd be fine if either of my parents - who I sadly live with at the moment - would balance out the negativity and criticism with at least SOME positivity. But all I hear from them. Not just to me. To everyone. To themselves. Fun fact: the only reason my parents don't divorce is because they wouldn't be able to financially support themselves apart. They sleep in different bedrooms and any tiny thing means they snap at each other. That's the environment I've lived in all my life (minus the years I didn't live with them).
I'm fine with criticism. Probably too fine. I'm too critical of myself on everything and assume the worst for myself. Ironically, I think the best of everyone else and can look at the bright side or brighten other people's moods. But because I hear criticism and negativity day in and day out, that's all my brain is wired to hear now. Probably why when, say, someone gives me feedback on my creative work, like my novel, I reread the positive stuff over and over until a small part of me might believe it. Most times, I still don't.
As for putting my foot down on things? Even though I'm doing the bank account thing partly out of spite now, I know it's not going to accomplish anything but his ire. He - and my mother - take any kind of criticism way too personally to the point that I can't say anything critical to them (and yet, that's okay for them to do to me). And he's a huge fucking control freak. So he'll probably blow a gasket over this, too.