Now before any wise guy says paying for something that won’t work right is normal procedure, listen to the facts. I am not calling HP because the printer is broken. That would be the business of the warranty people. But it is not broken, it is just hard to set, and so you’ll know, setting up the wireless printer function is not even mentioned in the user manual. I am calling about a machine that is not broken, so get your warranty people out of my face. Read my lips, “Not broken.” I want customer service, not your repair department with your $59.95 minimum charge and lame attempts to upsell me. Your $400 printer doesn’t work, you won’t help me, and yet you think I’m going to give you still more money? You’d think these people would be able to draw that direct connection between their screwed up attitudes and the fact they are living in a rat-infested foreign shit hole.
After a couple hours I was able to trial-and-error the procedure and get the systems running. No thanks to HP. It turns out their L7780 printer has a static IP address of 192.168.1.100. Was that your first guess? I typed in each number in sequence and hit it on the 100th try. I also found out by using different drivers, it is possible to rig up the printer to work both wired and wirelessly. Isn’t it strange in this day and age HP still cannot build something that works right out of the box?
The tape transfer lady was over with another 60 files, so I have some extra spending money for the weekend. She grew her hair long again, my god, what a beauty. Some people really do have it all. (I did not know we'd never see her again.)
Beyond that, Jag and I played the gig to a basically empty house. Friday’s have slowly dried up now that the dart team doesn’t meet up there. In the old days, one could count on at least five of the members sticking around. Jag isn’t quite putting in the full amount of time in practice. I reminded him he will learn to like the music we play, but not to take as long as I did.
There were a few new faces but remember Jimbos is “west of Dixie”, and the hood gets a little tough. One of the guys spent four months in the hospital when his girlfriend stabbed him in the back.
That reminds me of a joke. This widow sees an unfamiliar man in the clubhouse. So she asks him if he is new in town.
“Oh no,” he says, “I just got out of jail after twenty years for killing my wife.”
“So,” says the widow, “you’re single.”
Bryne called, he is still out in Davie. We were planning on going out for coffee and fix the sound on his laptop, but those plans went on hold. He is adapted to driving by his GPS which produces odd results at times. It’s nothing I could describe, but it takes away from the spontaneity of the trip. It certainly has its merits one of them being having a little GPS voice constantly telling you where to drive is considerably cheaper than getting married.
I’ve redesigned the bingo game sheets to include a diamond pattern for my “overtime” game. At first I wondered why they have all these patterns, why they didn’t just play a regular game of bingo. It is a matter of timing. If they played it the simple way, somebody would be yelling bingo every three minutes. (The patterns make each game last around 15 minutes.)
Return Home
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
