BOFH 2003: Episode 1 "IT'S JUST A BIT OF FUN!" The PFY cries. "NO-ONE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY!" "I think the people concerned are taking it rather seriously," The Boss responds unhappily. "In fact, the number of complaints I've seen so far would indicate that EVERYONE involved is taking it seriously!" "I'm not taking it seriously" I point out sagely. "Neither am I," The PFY adds. "You're bloody running it!" The Boss snaps. "Yeah, but only from an administrative stance - no other input. Other than that, it's the company making all the decisions." "I think that in review we'll find there's a very clear case to support the complaints about you wasting the company's resourc.e" "We're not wasting it!" The PFY argues. "It's spare CPU, disk, etc. It'd be a waste if we DIDN'T use it!" "I think it's HOW you use it that people are complaining about." "Why?" "Because an <>b>'Intranet Survivor' Website ISN'T Company business!" "Of course it is - it's ABOUT people in the company. And it's good for morale!" "How?!" "Because people get to vote for people they like. So people get the credit that they deserve. And people can update the website at any time, so good service is rewarded instantaneously! People get to feel good about themselves!" "And how many positive comments have been posted so far?" "I don't know," The PFY responds. "Obviously I can't read EVERY message posted as I've got a JOB to do, but I'd assume there'd be quite a few..." "There are NONE!" The Boss snaps "Well Obviously there would be SOME people who felt the need to..." "AND" The Boss snarls "There's no SUBMIT button on the positive feedback page!" "Did you scroll to the very bottom of the page, hidden behind the jpg picture of the world?" "Uh... YES!" "Really - must be an undocumented bug in the software, which I'll be sure to report back to the developers on their feedback form." "If it has a SUBMIT button," I add. "Anyway," The PFY continues. "The number of negative comments could be seen as a reflection of the negativity inherent in our company than the website itself. When more positive comments were logged, I'm sure it would be good for Morale!" "Yeah, sure. However it doesn't matter, I want the site taken down!" "Ok, we can do that - Now would you be telling the CEO or should we? "The CEO?" "Yes, he's interested in the site, and quite likes it really. See >tap<, >tap< he's the one up the top of the rating. In fact, he's so pleased with the site and feedback that he asked that it not be anonymous. As a matter of fact, I'm rather surprised that you haven't placed any votes - positive or otherwise for him. Is there some problem there - a bit of animosity that would be reflected in the continuance of your empl..." Breaking the land speed record for a standing start, The Boss rockets off to his office to press the "Suck up" jpg a couple of million times before the CEO starts compiling his New Year's Dishonours list. A couple of hours, many many keyclicks, and a brownnosey phonecall later he's back, this time back with some helpful suggestions. "I think you should tone down some of the automated procedures," he mumbles. "Which ones?!" The PFY gasps, horrified. "The one that locks people out of the building if they have a low popularity score for a start!" he suggests, obviously not happy at standing out in the rain after lunch till a courier came. "It doesn't lock them out!" The PFY cries. "The chance of the door opening for them is directly proportional to their popularity percentage. Unless of course their popularity is zero.." "And then?" "It updates the HR Database (changing the Salary to Zero), cancels the person's swipe card and notifies security to put their personal effects in a cardboard box and drop them out a sixth floor window. So it's like real Survivor, with people actually being voted out!" "It's great fun!" I concur, nodding happily. "The Company Caterer left just 10 minutes ago after a particularly nasty cauliflower cheese. It really is a fantastic use of technology." "I think HR will have something to say abou..." "Spoke to them, passed on the CEO's thoughts on the topic and they agreed that perhaps it was a useful workplace incentive practice. "The unions will never allo.." "They got voted out yesterday after a video of them spending Union money at a strip show was anonymously posted to the site," The PFY adds innocently. "I would have thought YOU would be a bit afraid of public opinion," The Boss snaps, not liking the way this is turning out. "It's funny you should mention that, but would you believe it, when someone clicks on either of OUR names, the rating Down-Button disappears!" The PFY burbles. "Must get around to reporting that," I murmur unconvincingly "The software's riddled with bugs - but then you must know that. HEY, isn't that your stuff passing by the Window?!" >One hour later<

"Well at least he put up a fight!" The PFY burbles happily. "It makes for lousy video streaming when they just give in. Who's next?" "Well, bottom of the list - after that last anonymous video, the bloke with the nose picking habit who works in the mailroom." "I hate him!" The PFY snips. "We all do", I agree. BOFH 2003: Episode 2 "Yes?" I ask in a surly manner, in response to a summons from the Head of IT. "Couple of complaints about your not adhering to the new company recycling plan," he says disinterestedly, waving a couple of pieces of paper around in a woop-de-doo manner. "Gosh really, should I try harder in future?" "Yes, and I've been asked to ENSURE you're doing your bit," he says, pointing to an underlined paragraph at the bottom of one of the sheets. "Absolutely devoted to it!" I respond, "In fact I'm so devoted, how about I recycle those bits of paper for you?" "Excellent. That's my part done!" he replies "RIGHT, THAT'S BLOODY IT!" someone behind me yells angrily. "You're not even taking this seriously!" The head and I both turn in shock to find a greeny - disguised as a normal human being - behind us. In fact, he might even work on the Helldesk. Spies everywhere.... "Taking what seriously?" "The company's recycling plan!" "What recycling plan. I've not heard of any recycling plan?" "There was a memo on it two weeks ago!" "Oh I probably put it in the bin. Waste of paper - I read them online" "You're supposed to put old paper in the paper recycling box!!" "Those cardboard boxes with Paper Recycling - Paper Only on them?" "Yes." "Oops." "What?!" "Well I folded them all up and put them in a paper recycling box." "Ngggg..." "Then I chucked them in the bin." "THE BIN?!" "Yeah, the skip that we ordered last week to get rid of all those toner cartridges." "YOU THREW OUT TONER CARTRIDGES!?" "Yes?" "THEY CAN BE RECYCLED!" "They ARE recycled. They go to an artist in Leeds who uses them in his work." "His work?" "Yes, he works in Landfill." "THAT'S NOT BLOODY ART!" "I think he'd disagree with you. Anyway, it's truly amazing. He's got a technique he calls Haphazard Arrangement of Still Life - it's very arty. I can probably get you photographs if you want." "Nggggg," he fizzes, then stalks off. "He's gone to tell, you know,"The Head mentions. "Yes," I sigh. . . . Two days later it's big-greeny-meeting at IT time. And Pandora's box creaks open... "As you know," the Company's newly appointed Recycling Officer (i.e. mate of the CEO who needs a job) burbles. "There are significant advantages to recycling used products." "What were they again?" The PFY asks. "The Company pays less for its refuse removal, Cheaper prices when we buy recycled products, and more importantly we can SELL some of it. Not to mention the benefits to the environment." "Sorry, we can SELL something?" The Head asks. "Yes!" The Recycling Officer answers. "For instance, I read in a brochure I received this morning that there's a Cartridge Recycling Company in South London that offers as much as 5 pounds for an old toner cartridge suitable for recycling - depending on model, etc. And they sell reconditioned ones at very reasonable prices." "Five quid each," the Head mumbles. "And how many have we thrown away over the past year?" "In this building, probably two or three hundred," The PFY responds. In a flash, the minds of around thirty people turn to where their future drinks money will be coming from. "Why is it that the systems people do the toner cartridge replacements anyway?" one Helldesk person asks. "Surely it would be better with us, where we could deal with them as soon as a call is logged?" "Sounds like a good idea to me," I agree, surprising a few people. (Let's face it - on the potatos scale, it doesn't even rate as 'small') "And paper, is that worth anything?" someone else asks - purely out of company interest of course. "Only by the ton, and then when delivered to the point of recycling." "And what's that worth?" the questioner continues, no doubt formulating a plan involving a vacant office, the company van, etc. Sigh.. A week later I'm stopped at lunch by a beancounter with a worried attitude. "Those bloody recycled toner cartridges don't seem to last very long!" he blurts "Though the helpdesk people are a lot better at replacing them than you were. Still, they don't seem to be the bargain we first thought." "Don't tell me - we're going through a pantload of recycled paper too?" "As it happens, yes. There must be some glitch in the system as almost every printer in the place is printing out the annual report. AND No-one's collecting them!!!" ..Back in Mission Control.. "I predict," I say to the PFY "that by the end of next week the Helldesk people will realise that a NEW toner cartridge looks much the same as an empty cartridge in need of recycling...." "And that a ream of Xerox paper out of its wrapper looks much the same as a ream of used paper - when it's in the middle of a ton of paper in the back of a van, late at night?" "Exactly." "So what should be do - tell the Boss?" "Actually I was thinking of: A. Taking on a new person at my Cartridge recycling centre - and maybe relocate it a little nearer to here than South London, B. Be more careful not to get caught about swapping half used toner cartridges for newly installed ones, and C. Get into the paper recycling business now that it's commercially viable." "And where do I fit in?" "Underneath a ton of Xerox paper if you don't keep your mouth shut?" "Ah right." It's only because I care about the environment you understand... BOFH 2003: Episode 3 So I roll into work and almost run into Head of IT - who's eagerly loitering around the secretary's cubicle in much the same manner he probably loiters around Russell Square of an evening. Seeing the data lamp on the secretary's printer flashing calmly, I feel obliged to slip into the support role. "Waiting for a printout?" I ask. "Yes, my Salary/Position Review results." "Can't you just look at them on your screen?" "I would, but the page was the size of a bloody postage stamp and I could barely make out paragraphs, let alone words." An emergent page saves me having to explain what ZOOM means, using small English words, a measure of patience and a length of plastic hose... "Woohooo!" The Head gasps, looking at the bottom line of his evaluation. "A PAY RISE!!!" "It's obviously a misprint," I say, looking over his shoulder at the bottom line figure. "I don't think so!" he gloats happily. "There's no way they'd pay you that much!" "What?!" The Head snaps, catching a slight whiff of mutiny and preparing the gangplank. "Oh! Of course, he continues, changing tack in a smarmy manner. "You're not Management, so you'd be less, uh, WELL paid". "I didn't realise that there was THAT much disparity!" I blurt unhappily. "I can't believe you get that much a day!" "Uh, A week" he corrects. "A week? Oh! Oh well, that's OK then - my mistake!" I blurt in a tone carefully crafted to raise nasty suspicions. "What do you mean, 'OK?' Why? Are you implying that you earn more than me?" "Uh, well, I'm not really sure of the exact figures. Didn't you sign my contract?" "No, it rolled over from the previous Head of IT. So how much do you earn?" "Uh, I don't know that I wish to discuss that with you," I respond, modulating my tones to imply he's being left out on some juicy gossip. "I can find out anyway," he replies. "All I have to do is ring personnel!" "Finance," I correct. "As I'm a direct contractor. In fact, as I'm contracted to the company and not to you directly, and whilst you pay for contractors from your budget you wouldn't be permitted to look at my personal charges..." "AH HAH!" The Head cries, slapping his key into the secretaries' filing cabinet. "I may not be able to see your salary, but I CAN look up the contracting account and see the annual outgoings!!" [A couple of minutes of ferreting in paper later...] "HERE!" He cries, preparing for his I-earn-more-than-you-do gloat. "The contracting bill for last year! Let's see, you and your assistant charged us... uh... Oh, there doesn't seem to be an amount..." "Yes there is," I point out helpfully. "in the bottom right hand corner." "Really?" the Head mumbles deflatedly. "I thought that was a phone number." "No, no" I say. "That figure would be inclusive of myself, my assistant and some one-off project consultancy contracts (Security, Standardised desktop, Wireless Survey, and LAN Topology reconfigure from memory) from independent specialised companies." "I thought so," he smirks. "The majority of it goes to other companies." "..owned by myself and my assistant," I add. "But...You mean you charged the company that much over the past year?" "Uh..." I murmur, pretending to count off numbers in my head. "Yes." "But you earn far more than I do." "Of course I do!" I cry. "But without linked salaries, the organisational structure of responsibility falls to bits!" The Head sniffles. "Well, it's not as though you do any real work, is it?" "What?!" he snaps, getting into gangplank mode again. "Well, I mean you 'MANAGE' - whatever that means, but you don't go out there and get your hands dirty, do you? I mean when was the last time you went to a user's desktop and reinstalled their machine because their registry was full?" "I..." "And when was the last time you opened up a machine and reseated all the boards to eliminate a thermal expansion problem?" "Well it's not rea..." "And when was the last time a user came to your office to ask you for the best porn sites on the internet?" "What?" "Oh, Sorry, that was me. But ask yourself one question: Who's easier to replace, you or me?" "You, obviously. There's stacks of Systems people out there, but Technical Managers with business acumen and project based accountability.." "Yesss," I respond sarcastically. "There's only a couple of thousand graduates every year emptying themselves in THAT pool.." "So you're saying that you get paid more than me because your job's more technical?" "Oh yes. Never underestimate the bargaining power of someone who knows how to do as well as manage." "Well in that case, what can I learn to increase my chances of earning more money?" "Obviously not plain Systems Admin - you need a niche market. I mean I'm a Systems Admin with DBA, Networking and Audio/Video Conferencing, and The PFY is much the same, except he's got a slightly stronger profile in the hardware line, service always being an issue." "So you think I should get into hardware?" "You could do a lot worse. Do you know that some Engineer chargeout rates are as high as 500 quid an hour for specialised work like SAN installation?" "Really?!? What's a SAN?" "Storage Area Network. You've not heard of one?" "No" "But we bought one last year. You approved it!" "Yes, yes, but I don't have time to read through everything I approve." "It cost quarter of a million quid!" "Yes, but I was very busy last year." Sigh. "Well anyway, we have a SAN installed - and it's extremely expensive to get work done on it." "I suppose that's because it's so huge. It's huge isn't it - it must be if it cost quarter of a million pounds!" "Yes" I respond, cracking slightly under the pressure. "Massive, It's as big as a room. In fact to all intents and purposes it IS a room." "Is it in the Computer Suite then?" "No, no, it was much too big for that, we had to put it with the rest of the storage." "In the basement?!" "Yes" . . . three hours later . . . "Have you seen the Big Boss?" The PFY asks, wandering around with an unsigned purchase order. "He's in the basement servicing the SAN." "The SAN?" The PFY asks curiously "In the.. BASEMENT?!" "Well, when I say SAN, I mean Power Distribution Transformer, and when I say 'Servicing' I mean giving it an Oil change and removing all the 'DANGER, DO NOT REMOVE COVERS off to.... Oh look, the power's gone out." . . . It's just too easy sometimes.. BOFH 2003: Episode 4 There's nothing like a Job Interviewing for a little bit of time off work, and with our current lack of both Head of IT (serious burns after a nasty transformer explosion) and Boss (voted out of the building by a mass of public opinion expressed on an intranet website) the tide appears to be out in the catchment pool of potential interviewers. Which is where The PFY and I come in... "As you probably know," The HR Droid burbles to the 12 or so interviewer hopefuls collected in the IT meeting room, "we need to appoint a Selection Committee for the roles of Head of IT Department and Techical Manager, IT Department. For the senior role we expect to shortlist five candidates, whilst for middle management somewhere in the region of the candidates - which means that the interview process is likely to be a whole day for the Head of IT, and half a day for the Technical Manager. The second interview process is likely to only take an hour apiece for both roles. Anyone who would like to be on the Selection Panel would therefore have to be able to make themselves available for those interview times." At this, a couple of selection team hopefuls get up and reluctantly drag themselves from the room. "The committee is expected to be myself, two of you people, and the Chief Operating Officer. Are there any other questions before we move on?" "Is lunch provided?" some furry toothed developer asks, taking a break from picking the egg stains out of his cardigan. "Uh.. No" Another couple of people depart... "Can you be on the committee if you're an applicant?" a sad geek from the helpdesk (with delusions of grandeur) asks. "Interviewers are expected to be impartial." And then there were seven... "In the event that the person chosen turns out to be deadwood, are there any repercussions on members of the committee?" I ask, knowingly. "Repercussions?" "You know, undocumented bulletproof-glasss-ceiling, legal action by the company for negligence in the course of the interviewing...." "You mean would the Company hold you responsible? Of course not!" Two more chairs are vacated by people who realise just how easily your office can be relocated to outside a toilet door or how quickly a redundancy clause can be invoked. "No more questions. In that case I suppose we should just select from you five. What do you say, draw names out of a hat?" "What about Rock, Paper Scissors?" The PFY suggests. Ten minutes later.. "Funny." the HR Droid mumbles to The PFY and I as the sole survivors of the game. "We only had Paper, Rock and Scissors - Claw Hammer wasn't an option." "Big Boy's games, Big Boy's rules," The PFY comments, putting the aforementioned item back in his backpack. "Well, I suppose in the absence of objection I'll just get my assistant, Sharon, to go over what we're expecting from you in interview techniques. Sharon?" "Hi," Sharon says, addressing The PFY and me. "What I'm basically going to cover is Interview Technique, what you should be looking for, questions you should be asking, the manner in which you ask them, and questions that are not acceptable in an interview situation." I was worried about this - Talk about take all the fun out of interviewing.... "Not acceptable?" "Yes, questions which might be used in a discriminatory evaluation - Race, Creed and of course, Sex.." "Uh, not for me thanks!" The PFY slips in cheerfully. "That is exactly what I'm talking about," she snaps. "Yes, but I'm just not interested," The PFY responds, switching levity off with a >snap<

"Look, I'm serious!" "I'm sure you are, but I'm just not available - I'm already in a relationship!" "Right! I'm sorry," Sharon chirps decisively, putting a line through The PFY's name on her interviewer sheet, "but I don't think that you're suitable material for an interviewee." "I can't believe it!" The PFY cries "I'm being kicked off the interview panel because I won't sleep with her!" "That's just shameful!" I concur, seeing the bandwagon and jumping on board to see where the ride takes us. "Isn't this against company policy - Harassment or something?!!" "I THINK Sharon was trying to highlight questions that would be unsuitable for an interview and your partner grasped the wrong end of the stick" The HR Droid replies soothingly. "GOOD GRIEF MAN, HE'S NOT MY PARTNER!" I gasp, overplaying the horror a little, "JUST BECAUSE HE WON'T SLEEP WITH HER DOESN'T MEAN HE'S GAY!? AND QUITE FRANKLY, *I* RESENT THE IMPLICATION!!!" "No-one was implying anything by this!" The HR Droid babbles attempting to calm things down before they really get out of hand. "I meant partner at work." "What, you're suggesting we're ambidextrous!" The PFY cries ."AC at home and DC at work!!!!" "NO! No-one's suggesting anything of the sort! LOOK, what we mean is that there are certain phrases, topics and questions which aren't appropriate in the process of an interview, and they should be avoided." "Oh!" The PFY gushes, "Now I understand! But which phrases precisely? The problem with the Internet is that it's a multicultural group with varying degrees of what's acceptable and not. Could you give me some, well, examples of what we shouldn't say, questions we shouldn't ask - words we shouldn't use." . . . . Fish, Barrel, Loud Bangs... . . . . "Well it's fairly damning evidence, I have to agree!" the Head of HR nods sadly as The PFY plays back the recording of selected parts of our conversation from his PDA. "And obviously, I'm pleased you brought it to me to deal with, and didn't complain at other levels. You realise, however, that this complaint will slow the interview process down significantly." "We understand," I respond, "but we'd rather do this the proper way if possible…" "Yes," The PFY concurs. "Everything above board and Politically Correct..." BOFH 2003: Episode 5 Due to an unfortunate spate of Onion Bhaji poisonings at the staff cafeteria, you have been called upon to act as a member of the interview panel to select some computing 'professionals' for work at a distal site. Your company needs your help, but first, we need to verify your suitability for a role of such importants. Please answer these questions honestly. 1. You need some time off from interviewing to check your email - how would you go about obtaining this time? a. Ask for a 10 minute recess b. Suggest the candidate ask some questions while you organise an annual report for them to look at c. Interrupt the interview for a 'comfort stop' d. Say "Man, I reckon that chick with the big tits is a shoe-in for this job!" - secure in the knowledge that you'll both get your email and never have to be on another interview committee, ever again.. 2. You are expected to ask the prospective candidates a technical question to judge their ability. Your question is: a. Describe the main components of Active Directory b. Outline a basic implementation of a DNS system under Linux c. Decribe a typical installation of Sendmail d. Outline why Bill Gates is a running dog lackey of the current American Captalist Junta 3. The best way determine candidate's ability to handle extremes of pressure is: a. Rorschach inkblot test b. Generalised Aptitude Tests c. Referees' reports d. Repeatedly making demanding phone calls to them at their current workplace and waiting for gunshots... 4. You're expected to ask a 'stress' question. You choose: a. "Can you give an example of a situation where you dealt with an unhappy customer?" b. "Can you give an example of a situation of high stress and how you overcame it?" c. "Describe your working style" d. "Can you give an example of when a handgun is appropriate in a workplace?" 5. You have two candidates who are so alike it's difficult to choose between them. You: a. Employ them both, knowing they will both do well in the company b. Toss a coin c. Organise a wrist wrestle - winner takes the job d. Lock them in a darkened room with a half brick each. The one that makes it out gets the job. 6. A test of the applicant's ability to 'think outside the square' is called for. Your question is: a. "Outline a method of integrating physical and online authentication" b. "Describe an alternative to ASP applications that would still reduce the requirement for hands-on administration" c. "In what non-temporary circumstances would the benefits of wireless networking outweigh those of wired - discounting cost?" d. "Outline a situation where you might pay an interview panel a large amount of untraceable currency just to get the job" 7. When looking through a potential candidate's resume', which of the following ring warning bells: a. Their photograph b. (a), full size, as a coversheet c. "34th level mage, plus 10 for vanquishment, Dungeon Master" listed in hobbies d. Referees all have the same surname - as the applicant e. Their Typing Speed f. The document is more than 5 pages in length. The words: g. "Certified OS2 Developer" h. "I have a home network of MicroVaxes" i. "MCSE" j. "I have 40 years experience in Computing" k. "I know C+++" l. All of the above. 8. The HR Droid asks the candidate if they have any questions they wish to ask. The question they could ask which would most endear them to you would be: a. Is there shift work involved? b. What's the salary of the position? c. Is there a Christmas Bonus? d. Did your mum buy that tie for you? 9. A good candidate can often be determined by their choice of dress. For a technical role, you would be expecting to see: a. Suit and Tie b. Smart Casual c. Hard wearing and Practical d. Jeans, T-shirt and Penis tie 10. As each applicant leaves the interview room, you should compliment them on some part of their interview process. You would say: a. "Thanks, that was great" b. "Great, thanks very much, we'll be contacting you shortly" c. "I know I shouldn't say this, but you seem to be the ideal candidate" d. (c), and then "..but I know the chick with the big bazookies will get the job" BOFH 2003: Episode 6 "New Laptop?" The PFY asks looking up as he detects a stirring in the force. "Yes, it's rather good isn't it?" I respond, pulling it out of its patent leather carry bag and flashing it at him. "An ultra thin! How the hell did you talk The Boss into getting you one of those - AND the fancy carry bag?" "Not just the machine and carry bag, but two spare batteries, an 802.11 card, USB camera and microphone, PLUS the thing's got a DVD writer!!!" "But how did you get him to buy you one!?" "As it happens, I didn't! He decided that this wasn't really what he wanted..." "It's The Boss's machine?!" "-Yes-...AND, as I was saying, that he preferred his old one..." "His old one!" The PFY gasps sarcastically. "It was at LEAST a year old - surely any self-respecting manager couldn't show his face at a meeting with old-tech kit like that!!" "Apparently so. He said he didn't think his position really warranted a new machine. In reality, however, I think it's just because he found the thing too heavy and ungainly to carry around" "Too bloody heavy!!" the PFY snaps jealously. "It weighs about as much as a box of cereal and is so thin you could slip it into a bible without ruffling the pages!!" "True, but he found it heavy. In fact, he confided to me that he'd left it at work a couple of nights but even found the bag a bit of a problem!" "He even fou..." the PFY starts, suspiciously. "YES," I interrupt. "Have a feel of it, it IS bloody heavy!" The PFY is caught off guard by the weight and almost drops the thing on the floor. "Careful!" I cry, grabbing it back. "Don't want to damage it!" "Alright, I'll bite, what did you do?" he snaps, giving up. "BLOODY INGENIOUS," I cry, gloating like a Third World dictator. "I got some self adhesive 1mm lead sheets and stuck them to the top and bottom of the laptop, then faked some manufacturer, FCC, etc labels, and slapped them on the lid!" "Didn't he notice?" "Well he DID wonder why it wouldn't fit into the docking bay..." "What'd you tell him?" "A design flaw which they'd fix later with a firmware revision..." "?" The PFY wonders, wordlessly contemplating The Boss's stupidity. "What about the bag then?" "Stuffed the lining with lead shot. Lucky he didn't try flying with it though - I'm sure that would've rung alarm bells with the current state of airline sec..." >PING!< "Isn't he required for a junket in the States??" The PFY snaps in a flash. "No, that's just too mean!" . . . Two weeks later . . . "That really was too mean," The PFY reminisces, scanning the latest newspaper article on The Boss's state of detention. "You can go too far at times!" "*I* can go too far! You're the one who put those envelopes of rice powder in his jacket pocket!" "True, that was a little nasty," the PFY admits grudgingly. "But in my defence, I did at least think he'd make it out of the country and get a BIT of a holiday." "Then perhaps you shouldn't have made that anonymous phone call quite so soon?" "Yeah, well, there was blood in the water and we all smelt it - I just did something about it!" "I think there's a subtle difference between 'doing something about it' and the feeding frenzy that you kicked off at Heathrow." "OK, well maybe I shouldn't have said his laptop battery was crammed with C4." "After rubbing his luggage with the insides of a firework for the benefit of the sniffer dogs I don't think it made a hell of a lot of difference..." "Yeah well..." "And as for slapping the tinfoil cutout of a gun into his in-flight reading..." "Bad taste?" "No, very old hat. A better plan would have been to have stuck some curly wires and an alarm clock into his carry-on." "...Stuck to a couple of tubes of wine gums?" "Oh no, that's not quite nasty enough. The THEORY is that they'd then have to LOOK for the rest of the suspected appliance..." "Ah right, trousers, gloves, etc. Nasty. Perhaps next time..." "Indeed." Later that evening I'm at after-work-drinks with The PFY when I notice a surreptitious nod from him to a couple of suited gents drinking lemonade for the past hour. Quicker than you can say 'usurping bastard' I make some noises about needing to download some brownware, grab my bag and casually duck into the gents. I manage to get the clock and wire down the toilet before Special Branch kick the door in, but it's a close run thing. The steps The PFY will go through just to get a new portable... "Now what's our Iraqi exchange worker been telling you about me?" I ask. Fair's fair. BOFH 2003: Episode 7 ORDINARILY, I am not one to counsel The Boss in times of mental torment. To be honest, I see my role more as a FACILITATOR of torment, but this time I'm going have to break my informal rules and find out what's upsetting him. This could be an unwise choice, but sometimes a good turn needs to be done, and it's obvious to all that The Boss is so far down in the mouth he's liable to swallow a shoe. If it gets any worse The PFY will have to call the Vet - for humane reasons. Sigh. "What seems to be the problem?" I ask, with a due sense of trepidation. "It's the Management meeting tomorrow afternoon," he confides unhappily. "Yes?" "Well MAINLY the problem is that they're going to crucify me!" he snaps. "Really? Why?" "Were you not here the last week?" "What do you mean exactly?" "The helpdesk system - up and down like a whore's drawers!" "Yes?" "They'll go berserk. Not to mention the performance of the new Asset Tracking Database that we'd outsourced as a project to that overseas firm in Karachi." "The one that takes longer to find a match than a blind pyromaniac? Well I *DID* warn you about trusting a database whose design phase was over in 15 minutes..." "Yes yes, but that doesn't bloody help me now!" "True. But is that all that you're worried about - nothing else?" "That's enough, isn't it?" "Potato, Po-tah-to" I respond. "What?!" "You see a helpdesk system that only successfully logged two calls in 5 days, I see a fantastic reduction in the number of weekly unresolved calls!" "I hardly think..." "You see a database search engine that's so slow it needs a mobility scooter, I see a search engine which has completely eliminated false match reporting!" "What, you want me to lie to them?" "Lie to them? Good grief man, if 21st century world history has taught you anything, it must have taught you that 'What you don't know..." "...can't hurt you', yes." "Did you know that The PFY had removed the support bracket from your table last week?" "No?" "So that disproves that theory. What I was GOING to say was that 'What you don't know is an ideal marketing opportunity'." "What ARE you talking about?" "OK, you know last month when the Helpdesk coordinator told you that there'd been a huge reduction in reported sick leave in the previous four weeks?" "Yes?" "Yes, that was a euphemism for they'd stopped reporting it - but not taking it. Combine that with his next statements: 'dramatic reduction in helpdesk calls' and 'no service complaints logged' and you get?" "There was no-one there most of the time?" "Exactly." "So what you're saying is that instead of reporting the truth.." "INSTEAD of reporting the INCIDENTAL information, you should instead report the hidden benefits which may have otherwise have escaped observation, yes." "So instead of saying that you and your assistant are homicidal megalomaniacs, I should say that you're..." "Dedicated, Team-Playing professionals who will go the extra mile to get a job done properly, yes." "And that Windows consultant I appointed last week to tighten up the company's IIS Server security... " "Is a waste of good office space, yes." "A waste- Where's the good side in that?" "That was the good side." "Oh. So my P.A., who can't type so good, or use an online calendar would be a People Person, putting people first?" "Or, more geekily, a customer-focused professional, always willing to try the hands-on approach. Least that's what they say down at the pub." "What?!" "Nothing, just going that extra mile, like we always do.." "Ah. OK. Well, I think I've got the hang of this now!" he burbles. "I think I'll just pop back to my office and browse some porn for the rest of the day!" "Or, to put it another way..?" "Uh... Keep myself abreast of the new and startling developments in the Web community to ensure my full exposure to the potential of the medium?" "Couldn't have said it better myself." "Yes I know, your assistant put it down for a 14 hour activity in last week's timesheets." "He's a dedicated man," I admit. The Boss toddles off happily, giving me time to set up some extended web-cache logging of his machine, which will 'accidentally' get emailled to the Head of IT at the end of the day.. "What are you up to?" The PFY asks, peering over my shoulder at the screen. "Oh, just ensuring our exposure to a broad spectrum of Management resource with a wide variety of computing experience." "Getting another Boss fired, right. Why?" "He'd pretty much reached the pinnacle of his career." "Oh, You told him about Operational Euphemisms then?" "Exactly." "It's a dirty business, this computing game" "Indeed." BOFH 2003: Episode 8 Sigh. I don't know what it is about 24x7 Operations, but the thought of it seems to make most IT Managers weak at the knees - and The Boss is no exception. I'm sure in his mind he sees a clean, shiny computer room with suited professionals striding purposefully betwixt machines, engrossed in their continuous 24x7 work - all accomplished with the professional care and attention you expect from a full time operation. Tapes whirring, lights blinking, just like in the movies… In REAL life however, the situation is generally: one of the three night shift staff sleeps under the boardroom desk another racks up humungous long distance phone calls in between porn marathons the remaining person (if they turn up) doing the crossword between half-hourly trips to the tape library media bay But of course, telling The Boss this is about as useful as explaining the beauty of Open Source to a Windows geek. His 'Field of Dreams' view of 24x7 makes him think the company's backlog of work will suddenly flood into the place of an evening and his plan end up becoming the efficient cost-saving exercise of the century. As opposed the the money soak that everyone else knows it will be... So, at a departmental meeting… "...and what I'm after is a rough idea of the setup costs involved in running the place round-the-clock" The Boss rambles, addressing The PFY, me and the Helldesk people. "You're going to need a lot of Helpdesk cover!" a phone geek in a headset burbles "…to handle all the calls." "What calls?" The PFY asks in an annoyed manner "Don't your calls taper off exponentially after 4:30pm?" "People will work late if they know there's support!" the helldesk geek Kevin Costners. "People wouldn't work late if there was sex involved!" The PFY counters, annoyed. "I THINK you'll find that people would enjoy flexible working hours," The Boss responds. "If by flexible you mean coming in at 2pm, saying you started at 7am, and leaving at 3pm, then yes, I think you're right." "Or…" The PFY adds, "If you mean going out on a bender, missing the last tube home, realising that you could clock in at 2am and be able to go home at 10am when you wake up under your desk..." "It would be more structured than that!" The Boss explains. "People would be rostered on…" "Ah - so you'd need to organise your bender in advance," The PFY replies sagely. "Tricky…" "So what I'm after," The Boss continues, ignoring him, "is an estimation of what we'd need to put in place to allow us to supply 24x7 service." "Well let's see - there'll be more staff for a start - at least two more Operator/Admins, shift allowances, an account with a restaurant…" "What?!" "For meals - the company cafeteria won't be open, and most contracts specifically include provision for meals for shift workers." "We would provide meal preparation facilities for out-of-hours use!" "QUALITY meals, of a standard available at the cafeteria during normal working hours - so as not to unfairly disadvantage shift-work staff?" "What are you suggesting?" "Nothing ambitious, a chef's oven, a vertical griller, industrial fridge, fresh food and vegetables, a selection of meats and cheeses, breads and dips. Some wine perhaps?" "I'll go as far as pizza!" The Boss replies, closing the topic. . . . Three weeks later . . . "What the bloody hell is that?" The Boss gasps, as a large crate is slowly wheeled in the direction of Mission Control. "The Pizza oven you okayed." "I never okayed a pizza oven!" "Sure you did" The PFY responds, scrabbling around the desk to find a piece of paper. "Look!" "I didn't sign that!" "Yes you did, see!" "I most certai...That was for a pizza! 14.95!" "A pizza oven, £14950.00, yes." "That's preposterous! You changed the order!" "I never!" The PFY cries, offended "You bloody did!" The Boss blurts, realising what a purchase like this could potentially do to what remains of his reputation. "We can't send it back - it came from Italy!" "You ORDERED A BLOODY ITALIAN PIZZA OVEN!" The Boss blurts, in danger of bursting a major artery. "YOU did, yes." "Get rid of the bloody thing before someone sees it!" "Where? The guys in the store won't have room for it, and the Importer probably won't take it back." "I don't know, just get rid of it and don't ever mention it again - Surely one of you could use it?" he asks sneakily. "Nah, not really," The PFY says disinterestedly, in less time than it would take The Boss to say "Excuse me officer but I believe that one of my employees has been involved in some theft-as-a-servant". "Well can't we pay a restocking fee to the Importer and vanish the thing from the purchasing records.... somehow?" "You mean you'd like us to modify the purchasing database to substitute "Pizza" for "Pizza Oven", modify the purchase price, ship this back to the importer, pay the restocking fee without causing another transaction to be logged into purchasing system, and generally not mention a word of this ever again?" "Yes" "200 quid" "Why, that's... that's bloody" "..Far too small a price to sell out our professional dignity, yes, you're right! Make it an even 500." "FI.." The Boss bubbles, passing out. "It's funny isn't it," The PFY mumbles through his Pizza. "Some people would see an empty packing crate on the street and think 'rubbish', while you immediately think 'opportunity'." "Yes, I'm a glass-half-full sort of person," I admit. "Now what else has The Boss signed up for recently?" "Ahhhhh.... Night Shift Workstation, 800 quid." "Night Shift Watchman, 8000 quid?" "Nah, What would we do with one of those?" "True - Swiss Night Glow Watches - for accurate time keeping?" "I like the way your thinking!!!..." BOFH 2003: Episode 9 "This is eerie," The PFY whispers, as we gaze around the darkened and newly silent computer room with a flashlight. "Isn't there emergency lighting?" "Apparently not," I respond. "Which is an excellent design feature for a room with no windows in the centre of a building." "So where's the UPS bypass switch?" He asks, directing the spotlight around the room to the power distribution board. "Not sure, but I'm guessing that they would put it somewhere next to the UPS. First though, we need to follow computer room physical security procedure." "What, check all the doors are secure, that circuit breakers won't trip from start current when we power the system on, and that we can get adequate lighting for service people?" he asks, greenly. "No, I mean, lift a couple of floor tiles, tie some cat-5 cable at ankle height between racks, unscrew the Halon Hold-off knobs, remove the doorknobs from the inside of the computer room doors and hide the oxygen masks." "You've thought about this before, haven't you?" The PFY asks, tying cable furiously while I lift several tiles in the computer room in a random manner. "Oh yes. This is one of those moments in your career that you dream of. But quick, we need to put up those 'Work Underway, Multiple Hazard Area' signs!" "But why, no-one can see them?!" he asks - complying anyway and popping a few of the little yellow sandwich board about the place. "Because there's work underway with floor tiles removed and cable everywhere! There could be a nasty accident if someone were to foolishly take advantage of the power outage to have a quick peek inside the computer room while the swipe card system was out of commission to see what the place looked like..." "But the swipe card system's got its own battery backup, hasn't it?" "Yes, A small nicad battery which has probably been charging continuously for about five years and has the life expectancy of... um..." "Someone who'd sneak inside a darkened computer room for a quick peek while swipe card system was out of commission?" "Exactly! Sshh, here comes someone!" We wait quietly while the door opens and one of the Helldesk people has a peek around to see if the coast is clear before blundering into the computer room. >CRASH!<

"Deary me!" The PFY mumbles very quietly over some faint groans."Someone has fallen down a hole in the raised floor, and, by the sound of it, done themselves a bit of an injury!" "I would go and offer assistance," I say magnanimously. "But as we all know, it is dangerous to enter a multiple hazard area in the dark, so I think it's best to stay put. Always put safety f... Ooh, here comes another one!!!" A faintly lit face, which can only be that of The Boss, pushes up against the doorglass. Moments later the door opens and he enters. "Who's that?" he asks in response to the groans. A bit of muffled conversation follows with The Boss deciding to render assistance. ... >Trip!< >CRASH!<

The PFY muffles a snort whilst shaking his head. "Like moths to a lamp!" I mumble to The PFY as another face appears in the window - A beancounter. "Are Beancounters worth more points?" The PFY asks. "Mmmm" I mumble. More conversation follows the door opening, with the Beancounter being sneaky, and hugging the walls instead of crossing the floor... >Trip< >CRASH!<

"Tripwire?" The PFY asks. "No, that sounded like one of those multiple hazard signs," I whisper. "Hang on, can't keep a good man down!!!" >Clamber< >Twang< >CRASH<

"Or maybe you can. Now THAT was a Cat-5 tripwire!" I add. "HELLO!" I cry, deciding to let people know I'm here. "Who's that?" The Boss gasps. "I think I've broken my ankle!" "So have I!" The Helldesk geek whimpers. "It's us - we were in here when the power went off!" The PFY blurts. "Well givvus a bloody hand will you?" the Helldesk geek snaps. "I would, but we've been doing work in here and there's cables all over the place and floor tiles up, and no emergency lighting. It's a hazard area. Didn't you see the signs?" "IN THE BLOODY DARK?!" the Beancounter gasps testily. "True. Tell you what though, there's a couple of flashlights in the control room. We'll pop out the back way, grab them and come back and give you a hand!" "Well hurry up then!" The PFY and I make a show of feeling our way around in the dark to the back of the Computer Room and slip out that way. ... "It says here that in the future you'll be able to put terabytes of information in your cellphone!" The PFY says, pointing to an article in a magazine with his coffee cup. "Mmmm. Did you see that article on the next page though, that says that there's a secure version of Windows out?" We finish chuckling, and make our way back to the computer room, flashlights in hand… One UPS-Bypass >click< later the computer room is up and running and the victims are taken. "This isn't the way I'd have had it happen though.." I sigh unhappily. "A touch of remorse?" The PFY asks. "Nah, I was just hoping one of them would've had a cigarette lighter we could have blamed a halon release on..." "Can't have everything." "True." BOFH 2003: Episode 10 Ah mornings! There's nothing like a leisurely cup of coffee, feet up on the table, enjoying the morning news. Well - reading people's email - but same difference. "Brown in accounts is sniffing around the new mail room girl again," The PFY comments. "Yes, I saw that yesterday - the odd 'what you doing?' message during the day. Where's he at now?" "Nonchalantly suggesting that he and a 'few work mates' are meeting up for a 'quick drink' and maybe she'd like to come along 'for a laugh'?" "Don't tell me, a pub miles from work - and he's not sent any other email out to his 'mates'?" "Precisely!" "I thought he was chatting up Jenny in Payroll?" "Yes, he's doing that too." "Oooh, wouldn't it be a bloody tragedy..." "...If >clickety< their mail got mixed up due to some horrible MTA error and they found >clickety< out about each other? Oh look at that!" "The course of true love is never smooth" I sigh. "What about The Boss, what's he up to and when's he back?" >clickety<

"Back today, was at a >click< SAN presentation in Kent. Oh, you're not going to believe this!" "What?" I ask, not wanting to miss out on the morning funny. "He booked travel insurance." "To KENT? He may as well book travel insurance on the Tube!" "No, it would probably cost more for the tube - more risk,.." "True. What was he insured for?" "Uhhhmmm - mainly medical?" "Medical? He's got company health insurance, hasn't he?" "Hypochondriac Alert?" "Must be - We'll have to find that out when he gets in. It's essential for worker-boss bonding to keep up to date with people! But first some calls!!" I cry, phoning the company doctor… "Hello?" "Yes," I burble in a worried manner. "I'm a BIT concerned about The Boss. He's been a bit... uh… stressed... lately, and, well, irrational. I think He might have that cleanness thing like what Howard Hughes had?" "It's not very likely. People with germ phobia shun the contact of others. He'd be unlikely to turn up to work if that were the case." "It's just..." "OK, OK, I might stop by to see, but no promises." …Later that morning when the boss trundles in… "…and I bought this CD in for you people to look at. It's an actual model of a working SAN, which you can run up on your desktop." "Oh, I'd like a look at that!" The PFY gasps joyfully, "I've been wanting to get a lo.. lo.. loo.. AAAAAACCCCHHHHHHHEEEWW!" What The PFY's sneezes lack in authenticity, they more than make up for in spray, and I make a mental note to hose my desk down before I use it again... "Sorry about that," The PFY blurts "Touch of the Flu. Must have picked it up when I took the new girl in the mailroom to see the Chinese Ballet Company." "You went to the Chinese Ballet?" the Boss whimpers, edging back slightly. "Yeah, she loves the stuff, and a mate of a mate knew the stagehands, so we got in free and got to meet all the players!" "I don't remember any Chinese Ballet being on?" the Boss says. Obviously a closet culture vulture. "Well you wouldn't - they only played for a couple of days then the whole thing was cancelled and they shifted off back home to Beijing like a flash!" "What did your friend say?" "Dunno, haven't been able to get hold of him. The phone rings and rings, but no answer - which is strange because he normally puts the answerphone on when he's out." I personally think The PFY's laying it on so thick he may as well be driving a manure spreader, but The Boss is lapping it up. "Really?" he muffles, through the hanky that's suddenly over his face. "Sorry, runny nose." "Yes, that's how this started!" The PFY adds, looking around for a tissue. "SARS," The Boss mouths silently, "Sorry?" I respond, while The PFY has the decency to make a real show of not turning back around. "SARS VIRUS!" he again mouths. "VIRUS?!" I ask out loud, to which The Boss nods so furiously it's a wonder he doesn't get concussion. "WELL, I'll run the CD through the scanner then - just to be on the safe side." The Boss's head movements change axis from a nod to a shake, whilst simultaneously nodding at The PFY. "Oh, you want HIM to do it?" I ask, turning and tossing the CD to The PFY "Boss wants you to run this thro.." >SLAM!<

"That's funny," The PFY comments. "I didn't hear a sonic boom, but I'm sure I should of." "Should HAVE. And no - it must be the low wind resistance of polyester that saved us." "So should I take the CD back." "Not just yet, have to make a call or two!" ... "..and bring the tranquiliser gun" Ah mornings! BOFH 2003: Episode 11 So The PFY is back from a short junket he went on to learn about some technology or the other that no-one's heard of, no-one cares about, and no-one can afford to use. "How'd that Microsoft thing go?" I ask, as he enters the office with a full contingent of bloodshot eyes. "Microsoft? No, I was at that thing of 21st century connectivity!" "Really?" "Yeah. There were people there from all over the place." "Oh, and what did you bring back from it?" "A hell of a hangover, about a million pens, a digital watch built into a chunk of steel, a desktop organiser, uuuuhm, a patch cable that winds back into it's holder, some golf balls, a business card hold, a CD holders, a couple of..." "OK, Bruce Forsyth, I think I got the picture - you brought back nothing." "What do you mean, I just told you what I brought back." "That's just fluff. You have to bring back something of worth to the company. Something that will make The Boss think it was a good thing to send you there - so that he sends you there again next year!" "Oh. Well he can have some of my pens I suppose." "PENS WON'T CUT IT! He needs something that he can in turn pass up to his bosses to justify the outrageous training budget!" "Uh?" "Look, you go on a course, you get heaps of useful information, bring it back, The Boss shows this to the Head of IT, he shows it to the board as a future direction for IT and the company, the board is happy and happiness trickles down the chain onto you. If you fail to bring The Boss something back to flash about the place, something will be trickling onto you, but it won't be accolades. SO, did you bring back any Informational CD Roms?" "No." "Course Program and Associated material?" "Dumped it in the bin on the first day." "Cheap, poorly labelled, Course Carrier Bag, with Proceedings CD in the small zip up compartment?" "Binned it!" "Brochures from Vendors?" "Nope. Didn't have room with all the Pens I got." "Ok, so it looks to me like that's the last junket you'll be going on. Unless..." "Unless?" "How's your patter on Technology of the Future." "What?" "Do you think you could give a 15 minute, extremely dull - and I mean MINDNUMBINGLY DULL here, not just tedious or meandering. I'm meaning a talk so Dull you'd think Richard Stallman had taken over your body. For free beer." "Nah, I don't think I could." "What about a 5 minute dull speech, full of acronyms, devoid of intelligible content?" "Uhhhm." "1 minute, Dummy Mode on?" "Uhhh" "30 Seconds - backed up with glossy brochures?" "Could you write it for me?" "Of course. So you talk to The Boss, he doesn't understand a word of it, let alone have the ability to repeat it, but he needs his kudos, so he'll get you to spout off to the Head of IT, who will glaze over quicker than a donut in a freezer - He'll make you say it to the board, they'll think that whatever the hell you're saying sounds fantastic, and so much better than the 'invest cautiously in emerging technology' that the opposition board are saying, and we'll all be happy." "You think it' will work?" "Bloody BOUND to!" One speech later... "That was... very enlightening," The Boss burbles, coming out of his coma. "You know, I think we should talk to The Head about this. I'll cover the main points, and you just fill in the blanks." Another speech later... "Yes..." The Head of IT says, sneakily closing Solitaire on his PDA. "Very interesting. I was just saying to the board last week that we should be investing more in that, um, wassisname technology to replace our redundant thingies. I know, why don't you tell them what you just told me - I'm sure they'd appreciate it straight from the horses mouth, so to speak" Another speech later... .... "…" a Board Member breathes, looking around expectantly for someone else to say something. "Yes" The Chairman says. "Couldn't agree more, fascinating. AND I SUPPOSE, the REASON you told us all this is because you'll be wanting a larger technical and training budget next year?" ***BONUS*** "Well obviously there are costs involved in an undertaking of this nature," The Head says, tapping a wodge of brochures the PFY and I recently pulled out of the middle of some geek mags. "And redundant fibre-optic coupling of multiple VLANs over an mixed-mode data infrastructure doesn't come cheap." "Well I guess I don't need to be told twice the cost of keeping up with the industry," The Chairman sighs benevolently. "So I suppose you should put the proposal, and maybe this little talk as an intro, into next year's business plan." "Ah, one question?" a Board Member asks. "Yes?" The PFY replies. "What did all that MEAN?" "You mean you didn't understand it?" I butt in, sympathetically "But I got my assistant to word it so simply." "Well what does, er, SAN mean?" "Storage Area Network." "And what does that have to do with Wireless Access Points?" "They're all technology that we're looking at implementing." "But they don't have anything to do with each other do they?" "Nothing - except they're both about the future of computing at the company? Honestly! Now, who'd like some free pens?" Master Plan: Nothing kills a dissenting voice quicker than a stampede for freebies... BOFH 2003: Episode 12 It's not a good day for The Boss - for two reasons. First, there's no work on and I'm bored - and we know who makes work for Idle Hands. (Apart from Software Assurance). Second because there's no work on and The PFY is also bored. "I think I'm going on an Operations Mission." "Really," I ask,. "What?" "Thought I might break into The Boss's office, go through his stuff, grab anything interesting. Then leave a mop or something laying around so he blames the cleaners." "OK - Pick me up some of those biscuits in the third drawer down on the right will you?" "Sure. Run interference for me?" "You betcha!" I blurt, pondering the right way to drag the Boss into a pointless argument with no possibility of resolution...BINGO! 15 minutes later.... "YOU'RE BLOODY PIRATING SOFTWARE!" The Boss cries unhappily as my DVD writer spins up. "No I'm not, I'm making a backup copy of our software for safekeeping!" I respond. "All perfectly legit, as noted in the copyright notice that comes with the media." "A backup copy? But you said you're taking it home!" he continues. "Yes." "But it's COMPANY software!" "Indeed it is. And what better place to store a backup copy of the software than a secure place offsite?" "I... uh... BUT WE'VE GOT AN OFFSITE MEDIA STORAGE FACILITY!!!" he gasps, unearthing a lie in the making. "Which costs 10 quid per unit per year. This costs nothing!" "It's not secure!" "Yes it is!" "You got broken into last year!" "True, but it WAS just The PFY." "Your assistant stole your TV, DVD collection, and Home Theatre System?!" "Yes." "And you weren't angry with him?" "I didn't say that. Anyway, I got most of the stuff back. AND, he'd only done it for a bet in the first place." "A BET!"M The Boss gasps. "Yeah. He thought 'I bet I can get away with this'." "That's ridiculous!" "Indeed it was. What he should have thought was 'I bet my supervisor noticed the wax on his doorkey from my hasty impression and has some nasty plan in mind'. That would have been better." "You let him steal your stuff!?" "Only until the insurance money came through, obviously. Then, as I said, I got most of it back." "INSURANCE FRAUD!?" he gasps once more, a vein on his forehead throbbing dangerously purple. "No, I simply recovered my stolen items." "Instead of returning them to the Insurance Company who'd paid out for them?" "Paid out, less depreciation, excess, a random number for actualised market value, etc. Anyway what would they do with the kit?" "?... People like you push my Insurance Premiums up!" he snaps unkindly, seeing an empty saddle on a high horse. "No, Insurance companies do," I explain slowly. "Anyway, back to the original topic - your groundless fears that I'm pirating software..." "Well, you are!" "No, I would be pirating it if I took it with the intention to sell it or use it for a purpose other than for which it was licensed." "..othe.. ..whi.. That's just a technicality!" "Of course it is, but I've noted that technicalities are important if in defending one's actions. Like using the words 'Child Model Website' instead of 'Paedophilia Startpoint'. Or 'Unlawful Combatants' instead of 'Prisoner of War'." "What ARE you talking about?!" "Well, you say I'm pirating software, I say my intention is to take a backup copy." "And?" "As long as I stick to my story, my intentions are surely presumed to be innocent! As am I." "I think you'll find that it's not the case. The software is licensed to the Company for Company use." "Yes, but I'm not intending to use it, I'm just safeguarding the Company in the event of a disaster." "A disaster?" "Yes, like fire. Or theft. Where we lose irreplaceable media." "So you're going to copy ALL our software?!" "Of course not, just the stuff that would be difficult or expensive to replace in the event of a loss." "Stuff Like what?" "OS2." "Is that expensive?" "Some would say priceless. I know I'd find it difficult to put an exact figure on it's worth to an organisation like ours." "And you really think it's worth protecting?" "Oh yes! With its rarity, it's bound to be a target for opportunity thieves." "Opportunity thieves?" "Yeah, you know, people in a workplace who are normally reliable, but can't resist the temptation of stealing something if they see it unattended." "Surely not here?" he gasps. "You would be surprised. One time one of your predecessors had the entire contents of his drawers stolen." "Really?" "Yes, and the next day they came back and took his desk." "Did they find out who did it?" "Nope, the stuff just disappeared into thin air. Not a scrap of evidence!" I pinnochio. I notice the form of The PFY wandering past the doorway to Mission Control with so much contraband that he's had to steal the Boss's wheelie chair to carry it all. "Well I suppose if we are at risk..." "Nah, you're right, we probably don't need to take copies," I respond, ending as The PFY wheels the chair into the back door of the computer room. "But what about opportunity theft?" "I've just been thinking - perhaps I'll just chuck the media in the bin - that way people won't see it and won't be tempted!" "Right! Excellent. But what about...." BUGGER! Hoist by my own petard, there's only one thing to do until The Boss's logic runs out. I signal The PFY to get me some more biscuits. Nice biscuits too. Got chocolate in them. BOFH 2003: Episode 13 Picture if you will a computer room, late at night.. Late, late at night... Almost morning, in fact.... All lights - bar several system status indication lamps - are off..... Suddenly a lamp, previously glowing Blue, changes (hereafter) to Orange....... Seconds later an SNMP trap, delivered by the system concerned is received by the Services Monitoring Facility server........... Seconds after that, a dial tone, followed by a series of DTMF tones is heard echoing through the machine room. And again............... Approximately one minute later, in the bedroom of a geekily furnished studio flat in South London, a pager beeps shrilly ................................................. A figure partially emerges from the Fleur-de-Lis bedspread to focus on the pager in question........................................ THE WELL-OILED MACHINE OF TRIPLE-TIME, AFTER-HOURS CALLOUT IS IN MOTION!!!! . . . "But I didn't get paged!" The PFY cries in response to The Boss's annoyed questioning as I roll in at 9 the same morning. "Mind you, that could have been because I dropped the pager on the way home and it broke!" The PFY holds up a pager that, whilst bearing the hallmarks of being repeatedly struck by the heel of a shoe, must have been damaged in the manner he said... "I did mention the need of some form of backup to the pager in case of situations like this - or pager unreliability due to congested telco networks," I ad lib. "I'm not buying a bloody satellite phone for you to run up astronomical bills on!" The Boss snaps, cutting my plan off at the pass. "Anyway, this isn't getting the Finance Server up!" "The Finance Server IS up!" I say, looking on the Services Monitor. "It's just dropped a power supply" "Then how come I got messaged?" he snaps, flashing us a look at the message on his phone. "You said you must be notified of any major problems - and you know how I don't like to ask questions." "That's not major!" he snaps. "It is if it happens twice!" I reason. "Look, I only want to be notified when the machine goes down!" "OK, that's easily sorted out," I respond helpfully. "And get that power supply fixed!" He snaps. "Running all the way to the phone!" The PFY blurts, poking in the Hardware Support number. Three hours later "I thought I told you I only want to be paged when the server goes down!" the Boss seethes, crashing into Mission Control. "Yes?" "Well?" "Oh! The server's gone down, see?" I say, pointing at a red icon on the services display. "You're joking!" The Boss blurts. "But it's got redundant power supplies!" "Indeed it has, but they don't work when one's dead and the other is outside the machine..." "I thought the machines could work without interruption?" "They can, but unfortunately our engineer can't. The PFY asked him if he wanted a coffee, which must have confused 'LEFT' and 'RIGHT' in his brain. So he pulled the wrong supply out. I was going to check before he did it - but as you know, I don't like to ask questions..." "RIGHT!" The Boss shouts as he storms off to his office. Ten minutes later The Boss informs us that the engineer concerned is on his way back to the office and the senior engineer has been dispatched to us. ... "..a real bastard," I say to The PFY, finishing my description of the engineer in question. "The sort of person who gives helpful tips to your boss like how the dangling cables you have are a workplace hazard and how he couldn't help noticing that you're using root for day-to-day work - and how insecure that is.." "Really?" "Oh yes. An out and out brownnoser. A cleft presser of the First Order. AND he notes all his tips and observations on his report and files it with his office. THEN, next time something happens, they dig through it for a reason to void the maintenance agreement." "Really?" "Oh yes. He's the guy they send to punish people. AND, he makes a point of coming in and advising you through what he's doing, every step of the way." "Arse Covering?" the PFY asks. "Partly, but mainly to punish you for not issuing him a permanent swipe card to access the room night and day. So he wanders in and out of the machine room to make you keep getting up to let him in." Our conversation is interrupted by the arrival of the man himself, complete with titanium toolkit. "So where is it?" he asks. "In the machine room," I respond. "OK, can you give me a card to get in and out?" And so it begins... Ten minutes later... "Just about to install the new power supply," he says, once the computer room door has latched shut. "Good." "And could someone let me into the machine room, as I don't have a c.." "Sure," The PFY says cheerfully Ten minutes later... "New power supply installed, I'm just going to box up the old one >click< and fill in my form." "Uh-huh". "Oh, could you let me back into the..." "Sure," The PFY seethes. . . . Looking back, I think it was probably the trip back to collect his toolkit that broke The PFY. The repeated trips in and out to let us know he was about to power the system on, check the hot plugability was working, then confirming it was all working, boxing up the old power supply, borrowing a pen to label the old power supply 'faulty', packing up to go, etc, must have slowly eroded his patience. The phonecall from the Maintenance Company asking if we'd seen their engineer was the first thing I knew about it. Then there was The PFY's new titanium tool kit. I don't like to ask questions... BOFH 2003: Episode 14 So The PFY and I have been shafted by The Boss who's signed us up to a one-day "conference" in the city which is so airy-fairy it should really just be called a trade show. Ordinarily, as a computing professional, you'd expect to disagree with people on matters of technology on occasion. For instance, someone might have the position that Word was the best editor of all time, whilst others might rightly suppose that emacs is. Similarly, someone may suggest that Microsoft has a suite of tools and settings designed to ensure application and desktop security, whilst others might rightly say that's a load of crap. HOWEVER, when faced with the 'expert' opinion that a vendor's machine runs faster or is more robust because the monitor is silver or that the box has a number of flashing LEDs to indicate activity, you find yourself reaching for the 18-inch hammer-of-truth to perform some impromptu vendor reprogramming. What also irks me are vendor's 'technical' people (whose qualifications would be almost sufficient get them an extra role in a remake of "Deliverance") who are at the conference to give you the 'expert opinion straight from the horse's mouth'. True, there's a part of the horse's anatomy involved, but it's not the mouth... So I roll up to the conference bright, early and annoyed and am immediately cornered by a meet-and-greet person who tells me she "wants to make me feel right at home here". "Excellent Nancy, that's great. So where do I find the hot curry, case of lager, a sofa and TV set?" Nancy chuckles lightly, looking for an exit, but is sadly caught in my tractor beam as unfortunately I must have "accidentally" locked the entrance door behind me to give me a large amount of time alone with the vendors and their freebies before the great unwashed arrive and get all the good stuff. The PFY, meantime, is standing outside in a suit, complete with fake nametag, redirecting people to the rear of the building, for "safety reasons". "So what do you do... uh... Simon?" Nancy asks, making polite conversation while vainly waiting for a new conference attendee arrives to allow her to step away politely. "Well I'd have to admit to being a Systems Administrator," I respond. "Really? Just like Roger over there?" she responds, pointing at a sad vendor droid - made even MORE sad by the fact that he's scrawled MCSE under his name badge just so people know EXACTLY who they're messing with... "nnnnYes indeed. Roger and I are alike in the same way that a town reservoir could be likened to a toilet cistern," I respond, unable to suppress a hint of snobbish elitism. "Oh, I see - You mean there's a difference of scale involved?" "Well yes, but also that Roger's job involves taking shit from people". "Excuse me?!?!" "Sorry, I can't believe I said that! Please forgive me! What I MEANT to say was that Roger was full of crap!" "But Roger's company is a Platinum Sponsor of this show!" Nancy cries loudly, in case her loyalty is in question. "That would be the company that's marketing an anti-spam product based around Bayesian filtering - only they call it a 'patented statistical classification process', after porting some freely available source to .NET and whacking a 500 quid price tag on it." "I... uh..." "But wait, there's more! You can, for a small fee, upgrade the aforementioned pirated software to one which also sends you email to tell you that it's rejected a message!" "But wouldn't that..." "Defeat the purpose of the application? Why yes it would. And, talking to Roger there's another bloke whose company sells 100 Base T Network cards for PCs which ALSO have a wireless adaptor onboard - so that your machine can remain connected even if your network goes down!" "Does that happen a lot?" "Funny you should ask - No. And if it DOES go down it's generally because a core network device has failed - which the access point is connected to - so you have no connectivity anyway." "Well, I'm sure there are a lot of other worthwhile products here today." "Including the company of that bloke at the reception desk over there which has released a bug-fixed version of their software which actually WORKS now. Only they put the words 'New Generation' on it so they can charge their customers extra for the version upgrade." "So if this whole show is a waste of time, why are you here?" "Why indeed. Because my Boss enrolled me without asking, and not to attend would be a waste of good quiddage, but more importantly, for the drinks and freebies." "You're attending to get drunk and get free merchandise?" "You betcha!" "Isn't that just a LITTLE shallow?" Nancy asks sarcastically. "SOME people might say so." "And YOU would say?" "Gimme some Pens! And one of those cool rulers with the calculator in it. And the stress ball. And the elastic modem patch cable. And some of those...." . . . Suffice to say the show didn't pan out as well as expected. That said, the original objective - having The Boss removed from the Company's Conference mailing list - did eventuate, so the whole thing wasn't a complete write-off. I never did get that curry, though. BOFH 2003: Episode 15 So I'm wandering past The Boss's office one day, when I notice that tell-tale puzzled-yet-vaguely-interested-but-revolted expression on his face which that can only mean one thing. Hard Core Porn. Improvising, I grab a sheet of paper from his PA's desk and barge in. "If I could just get your signature on this or... oooerrr, what IS that," I ask, tailing off to tones of disgust. "I... I was trying to find out something on Waterskiing." "And you just happened to click on the first watersports category you found?" "I..." "And then clicked on the 'Sure, I'm an adult with a disgusting obsession, let me in'?" "No, I..." "Then browsed your way into image number.... 9 of a.. 17 part series." "I..." "Don't worry - you're secret's safe with me - I've signed a confidentiality clause with the company which means that I can't tell ANYONE about ANYTHING I've seen at the company." "Yes, but..." "No matter HOW depraved." "I..." "Or liable to get someone fired. In fact, I wonder if the clause covers people who're breaking company Internet usage policy? I guess it doesn't, when you come to think of it, because..." "I got here by accident," The Boss whimpers. "I never realised that people could do..." "Of course you didn't - and I advise you to stick to that defence. It's certainly better than the 'I was just intrigued and wondered what drew people to it' or 'My browser just went berserk and started popping through the pages' which we hear so often. No, I'm sure that would be an acceptable reason for your behaviour!" "I BLOODY GOT HERE LOOKING FOR WATERSKIING INFORMATION!" The Boss snaps, going on the offensive in an attempt to turn the inquisition tables on me. "The wife and I are going to beach resort for a couple of weeks and I thought I'd pick up a couple of pointers so as not to look like a complete duffer!" "You and your wife, really? Does SHE know about your... uh? tendencies?" "Oh you can't tell her!" he crumbles. "It was a bloody accident, I searched for waterskiing and things and refined my search to watersports in general, then chose this site because it said it was 100 percent relevant." "Relevant to YOU, yes." "What?!" "Well those search engines remember what you've searched for and browsed to in the past. So when it says relevant, it means to YOUR INTERESTS, not to the TOPIC you were searching for." "So what I've looked for from this machine?" "Yes." "But this is a new machine - the Helpdesk came and installed it yesterday! So it must have been them who were doing the bad things" "I don't think the Helpdesk have been 'Browsing the Pink' so to speak, as they work in an open plan office where people could have seen what they were doing at any time - unlike yourself." "They must have - it's a brand new machine." "So you got rid of your old machine?" "Yes, it was very noisy apparently." "It's quite a good idea to roll over your machine every few months or so - to cover your tracks. You've gone up a notch in my estimation." "I didn't want a new machine! They said that I was due for replacement, transferred all my files, and gave me this! I was happy the way things were!" "Of course you were. Like I said, Mum's the word. Now, was that all the porn you were looking at, or was there more? I'm only asking because I assume that you'd want it erased from the cache logs so as not to appear in some disciplinary action taken when the logs are reviewed." "You review the cache logs." "Of course. We say it's to improve hit efficiency, but really it's just to refer items to the HR group. See, we're not permitted to LOOK for indiscretions, but if we encounter them in the course of our day-to-day operations...." "Look, I've told you, it was just this one image, by accident." "So you wouldn't mind clicking on the BACK button." "I..." "Here, I'll do it for you. >click< Oh, 8/17 >click< 7/17... " "OK, OK, so I looked at it, but it was all so.. well.., weird" "Uh huh, >click< 6/17 >click< 5/17, my goodness, what is that?!?" "I don't know, that's obviously a leg, but I can't work out...." Our conversation is interrupted by the arrival of the Boss's PA with a magazine in her hand. "Just wanted to get your signature on this.. ohmigoodness, what is that?!!!!" "It's OK, he was explaining how he'd accidentally browsed there," I respond, nipping the horror in the bud. Or not. "Two guys, browsing some disgusting porn together.." she comments sourly. "I.. I was trying to find out something on Waterskiing" "And you went straight to.... er.. Watersports?" "Uh." "And then clicked on 'Let me in'?" "No, I.." "Then browsed your way into image number...5 of a... 17 part series." So of course we're screwed.. BOFH 2003: Episode 16 It's a dull week at Mission Control with no one adding a lot of value to the place, so the PFY and I give ourselves a quick challenge of writing the ultimate application for the new 802.11b cards that we've picked up for our personnel disorganisers. A few furry toothed days of programming later, the PFY and I meet to show off our respective efforts. "Check this out!" the PFY chirps happily, handing his PDA over. "Well, at least you're trying I suppose," I admit grudgingly. "Trying?!?" "Yeah, well, with the self-paging thing. But if you want to make an urgent departure from a meeting really believable you need something like the EEP I wrote for my PDA" "EEP?" "Emergency Exit Procedure. It's hooked into the Excuse Calendar and generates a message which is SMS'd to your mobile in less time that it takes to compromise IIS, and, should anyone ask questions, is vague enough to be believable as a real fault" "Hmmm.... It does look interesting," the PFY admits. "But not," I interrupt, "as good as the ECF program." "ECF?" "Emergency Calendar Filler. You know, like when you're somewhere near the Boss and he has a brainwave about how he could send you to some technical event in godforsaken backwater full of retards like Virginia or somewhere, and you just know that if you say you have something on he's bound to check your calendar before you can get back to the office and take it offline..." "Yes." "Well, with ECF, all that's taken care of. You say, 'Hang on while I check my calendar,' fire up ECF, select the length of unavailability you want (in months), then click on the maximum allowable free time (in hours), and the ECF will fill your calendar with copies of past appointments, random specialist appointments, religious observations, etc. that you couldn't possibly attend the event he has in mind." "You know that actually sounds like a bloody useful tool - but what about if you reversed it to make yourself more avai--" "You mean my ECD program - Emergency Calendar Deleter," I interrupt. "Select a date window click the GO button and your Calendar will have less content than a software support agreement." "You haven't really done that." "Sure. And from the drop down menu at the top you can also choose who's calendar you want to empty. Which reminds me, the Boss has booked you into that Health and Safety refresher course next week." "Ah, I don't think so, I've booked holidays next week!" "Not any more you haven't!" "BASTARD!" "In person, WAP'ed up and making your life a misery!" "OK, so those things are good, but what about my locator?" "Locator?" "Yes, it's software that tracks the Boss by his PDA. As his PDA moves about the place the software tracks his network card's progression through the building." "A little inaccurate, don't you think? Those 802.11 cards work through walls and floors?" "Not so bad in this building, but in any case, I also flipped the on-board Bluetooth on his PDA and installed a sprinkling of Bluetooth cards in strategic places round the building which make the location a lot more granular." "Sneaky. But how did you get access to put the Bluetooth cards in?" "Told them I was giving them more RAM. Worked like a charm." "Smooth. So where's the Boss now?" "Survey says... out of the building." "Really. And he hasn't switched his PDA off or forgotten to take it with him." "No, I've told him we'll keep him on the cutting edge of PDA releases..." "So he can show off his new kit to all his toy-loving mates." "Exactly, and to ensure he keeps it with him I told him it makes the ultimate secure repository for private, personal stuff that he doesn't want people accessing because no one can steal his stuff if he keeps his PDA with him." "Sounds like you've thought of everything," I admit with a touch of newfound respect. "What was the private, personal stuff then?" "Oh, a bit of cheap smut, a spreadsheet of his DVD collection, some email drafts to women, etc. - nothing interesting." "I have to admit it does sound like a good tool..." "But...?" "But, when compared to my last program, which I call Pandora, it still pales." "Pandora?" "Oh, yes!" "What does it do?" "Here," I show him proudly. "To the casual observer, a remote control application for infrared devices. In actuality a remote control for a large part of the building." "Really?" "Indeed. Here we have the touch screen controls for Fire Alarm Test, Halon Discharge, Security Alarm Test - both with and without building lockout, and/or individual door lockout, Lift Priority Recall and Remote Control, Escalator Emergency Start/Stop, Building Environment Control and master Building Lighting remote!" "No Building Power On/Off." "No, it's a chunky manual breaker in the basement, damn it all!" "That's fantastic, but what's the big button down the bottom?" "My favourite, orders a large Pizza with all the toppings to whatever room in the building you're in, supplying the credit card number of the person whose desk is nearest to the current location." "Bloody Fantastic!" "You like" "I certainly do!" the PFY gasps. "Excellent, because I pressed that button 14 times from your chair about ten minutes ago" "BASTARD!!!!!" BOFH 2003: Episode 17 A wise man once wrote: "All power corrupts, absolute power should be left in the hands of professionals." I was that soldier. So the Boss' PA has become a liability - more so than the boss himself, which in itself is quite a feat. Since 'catching' the Boss and I (allegedly) browsing some disgusting porn together she's embarked on a voyage of blackmail and extortion which deserves a special mention in the annals of history... Not only has she secured the Boss' office, forcing him to work out in her cubicle (the Boss telling everyone that it was his idea, to allow him to bond with his workers) but she's also getting me (well, the PFY, as part of an extortion contra deal whereby I pass on some guilty secrets of the PFY that he believes no one knows) to run errands for her. Like penning the performance appraisal she'll be getting the Boss to sign off on at the end of her three-month trial period... Not to mention some despicably menial tasks designed to slowly but surely wipe away remaining vestiges of your self-respect. Well, the PFY's self-respect. You have to admire the professionalism of that. Some people would just make their point and be done with it, but she wants to snuff the smoking wick of our dignity. Well, the PFY's dignity. "You know what she wants me to do now?" he snaps, holding up a large carry bag. "What?" "Clean her shoes!" "So take them down to the shoe shine man at Vi--" "No, she wants me to shine them. She says she'll know if I get someone else to do it." "And you told her to get stuffed?" "I... Well, I s'pose I could shine them this once..." "If you give in to a blackmailer, you'll always be giving in!" I caution. The PFY wanders off dejectedly without further comment, which is always bad sign. He might be beginning to crack... Something has to be done. The PFY is (mostly) a human being, and I can't just stand by and let his dignity be drained out of him like this. Though I do wish I had a digital camera... Some sort of peace offering is in order. I catch the Boss' PA outside his (her) office and hand over the brown envelope I'd prepared earlier. "I take it this is some sort of trap where I open this and someone leaps out and catches me with company secrets?" she asks derisively, shoving the envelope straight into the shredder. "Uhhhh, no, that was the 200 quid you told me to steal out of the Boss' petty cash. Which you just shoved into the shredder." "Ah well, get us another lot then will you?" she asks, nonchalantly. "Ooooooooh, cruel and ruthless!" the PFY says, wandering up. "I like that in a major home appliance!" No matter what some authors say, silence is not deafening - it's just silence. I swear the entire office is so quite I can hear a laser printer in the next building jamming... "You can't trick me into hurting you on camera," she informs the PFY, nodding at his buttonhole. The PFY again wanders off dejectedly, and there's only one thing for it - a head to head. "Can I have a quiet word in your... office?" "Sure," she responds. [SLAM!] "I think we both know this can't go on," I start. "It's no good for the workplace to have people demoralised and stressed like this." "Why not? You do it!" "Yes, but I do it in a structured way." "What's structured about trapping someone in a lift and sending them up and down between floors until they're sick - like you did three weeks ago?" "I waited until after they'd had a biriyani for lunch! An amateur would have done it before the meal!" "And when you extort money out of someone after a chance encounter in a lift with a co-worker in a moment of weakness at the Friday night social drinks in their first week?" she gabbles. "Beg pardon?" "Don't play the innocent with me - I know it was you!" "Pretend for a moment it wasn't - what are you talking about again?" "This!" she snaps, handing over a black and white frame from the CCTV lift. "It's you and... GEORGE FROM STORES!" "Yes, well, I'd been drinking..." "DRINKING WHAT, PAINT THINNER? HE'S 48 AND LIVES WITH HIS MUM!" "Like I said, I..." "HE DRIVES A 1978 LADA!" "It was a moment of weakness!" "A MOMENT OF WEAKNESS? A moment of weakness is when you flip a pack of condoms into a teenager's shopping basket at the supermarket!" "I..." "A moment of weakness is when you divert someone's attention and throw ground habanero into their soup!" "So it wasn't you then?" "Nah, I'd have printed T-shirts by now. Still, punishing the Boss for all this is a little harsh." "He did call me 'Love' at my interview..." "Justifiable homicide. But seriously, you have a mean streak in you. Want to do dinner?" "I... I... Well, OK." "But can I ask you one favour?" "What?" "Can you get the PFY to do my shoes beforehand? With dubbin, because the leather is getting a little shabby." What the hell, he was doing it anyway! BOFH 2003: Episode 18 I hate phone calls at the best of times, but phone calls at home - especially during the hours of darkness - do not find me at my personal best. "But it has to be going again as soon as possible!" the user dribbles into the receiver as I fumble with my bedside clock to get the time. "It's 3am in the bloody morning!" I snap, not at all happy. "Yes, but this is really urgent!" "It's a bloody TEST Electronic Document Management System - it's not urgent!" "Yes, but it's got my data in it and I need it urgently for some reports that are due tomorrow!" "You put production data into a test server?" I ask. "Yes, why?" "A server which we told you - REPEATEDLY - that we might shutdown at any time - without notice?" "Yes, but I needed..." "A server which we only have a EDMS demo licence for, which probably expires in 90 days?" "Yes, but I had to store my data centrally to share with other users!" "You're sharing your data with other users - on a test system?" "Uhhh... Yes..." "Who might also be storing data..." "But it's got a massive disk - doing nothing!" "Nothing at all, true. Not even being backed up, in fact." "You're joking!" "IT'S A BLOODY TEST SERVER! Anyway, if I was joking I would tell you about the user who locked his keys in his car and spent half an hour with a coathanger trying to get his family out!" "Wa!?" "Nothing. Anyway, I'm not coming in, none of the test machines are under maintenance, so you'd have to pay call-out fees, parts, etc - if I can find an approved service agent at this time of night!" "I don't care, I need it done!" "Have you any idea of how much it'll cost?" I say, asking the obligatory questions. "How much?" "Ok, I'm guessing 120 to 180 quid an hour MINIMUM with a minimum three hour call out, travel, THEN, if they know what they're doing and can even FIND the problem you'll probably need parts so you'll have to call out their stores person at the same rate and expenses, so you're looking at over a grand, PLUS the cost of the part, which is bound to be more expensive than some cheapo parts company which we could get it from tomorrow morning..." "I don't care, this has to be done, the report's needed for the big arbitration case tomorrow!" "The one where we're trying to prove that we didn't steal another company's intellectual property?" "Yes!" "But we did, didn't we?" "No!" "Sure we did! I downloaded a stack of stuff from their website when it was compromised and slapped it onto our R&D site." "No, it was developed in-house..." "Inside of a week? Yes, I can see that happening in the real world..." "What are you suggesting?" "That someone on staff took credit for a stack of work they didn't do by changing the company and designer name, tweaking some specs and printing it on shiny paper." "I didn't hear you say that!" "Should I speak louder?" "No! Just get someone to come in and fix this server!" "Now?" "Yes." "And not mention that we stole another company's intellectual property?" "!!!" "I'll need an order number to quote to the agency, plus an internal order for my call-out and travel!" "They'll be in your email when you get to the office!" "OK, it's as good as sorted!" ... Bright and early that morning ... "TWO GRAND FOR A BLOODY HARD DRIVE!" he screams. "I told you they were expensive!" "A HUNDRED QUID TRAVEL EXPENSES!" "Yes, apparently he got lost on the way here." "THEN HE CHARGED ME AGAIN AT 150!" "Yes, travel to their store to get the hard drive - then he got lost coming back..." "I'm not bloody paying!" "Well he's still here - you could tell him - but then I think he'd probably take the hard drive back." "Well just tell him we'll pay." "I would, but he won't power the server on until he's got a cheque..." "..it's OK, we'll canc-" "Made out to cash." "DAMN!" ... One company cheque imprint later ... "Right, well get him to power the server on will you - and hurry!" "Sure, and I just need you to sign off on my expenses too while you're at it." "Oh, OK, just this form is i... A HUNDRED QUID ON TRAVEL EXPENSES?" "Yeah, the streets are bloody confusing at night - not to mention I normally ride the tube to wo-" "MEAL? "Yes, standard stuff if you work outside the normal working hours. Took me ages to find a place that was open too - hence the second travel expense claim." "I'm not paying!" "Well you could, but then I'd have to go directly home as my contract states I only need to put in an eight-hour day - ie. four hours at double time." "Well I think I can manage to ask the technician to power the machine on..." "OK, go ahead." "What - YOU'RE THE BLOODY TECHNICIAN!?" "Yes, as I'd said, we needed an approved service agent - and I was the only person I approve of. Still, as luck would have it I was up at that time of the night!" "THIS IS BLOODY BLACKMAIL!" "Not exactly. But you wanting me to switch the machine on as an approved technician is." "Why?" "Because you'd have to pay a call-out fee - unless you wait a couple of hours till I start work. Three hour minimum..." SORTED! BOFH 2003: Episode 19 "Uh, hello..." one of the helldesk wannabes burbles as he advances cautiously into Mission Control. "Mmmm," the PFY answers calmly. "I was just wondering if you guys could give me some pointers for my CV." "?" "Oh, right! I'm applying for a technical role and just wanted some tips on how to put my resumé together to give me a better chance at getting the job!" "I see," I respond, leaping into the conversation once I sense blood in the water... "Well, lets see... How to make your CV the one they look at..." "Well, there's the obvious things..." the PFY chips in. "Yes?" the wannabe asks eagerly. "Well a lot of CVs suffer from being far too short. What can you learn about someone in two or three pages? I mean there's barely enough room to list all your primary school grades, let alone the rest of your qualifications?" "Primary school grades? Really?" "Oh yes, I don't know how many times I've seen them left out of a CV. You see you can tell a lot about a person's character by how well they did in primary school, which subjects and what scores. I mean people cram their CV with tertiary qualifications when every real employer knows those scores are only there to get a job. "I prefer that the person leaves out any history of tertiary education," the PFY adds. "Really, because this book I have about writing the best resumé says that--" "That would be a book written by a person NOT in a technical role? Written to make money out of people wanting technical roles?" "I..." "As opposed to a couple of people who've employed countless people in technical roles?" "Yes, I suppose you're right." "So anyway, another obvious thing is you want your CV to stand out from the others." "Yes!" "So print it on pink paper." "PINK?" "Yes - it won't get lost and it will stand out from the others." "But isn't pink a little... well... effeminate?" "NOT if you mention 'Shagging a different bird every night' in your Hobbies and Interests," I counter. "Shagging a different bird every night?" "Yes, you're right, KNOBBING a different bird every night." "Really? Isn't that a bit non-PC?" "Yep, but you're after a technical role now, which is predominantly male dominated, so you want to appear to be one of the lads." "Oh, I see. What else?" "Well you'd better put down drinking as a hobby too." "Right, anything else?" "Well," the PFY says, "one thing I do like to see on a CV is a photo - and not one of those tiny passport jobbies, I mean a real photo, full page. There was one on a CV recently which was absolutely inspired." "Really?" "Yeah, the guy was a long distance runner and so he had a full page photo of him in running gear crossing the finish line in a race. You play sport?" "No." "Good answer - you're after a technical role after all. Which reminds me, put down 'watching TV' as a hobby too - employers like to know that they'll find their employees at home if they have to be called out after hours. "Got any hobbies?" "No... I used to play D&D when I was a kid..." "Bloody fantastic. Put it in as a hobby, and have a photo of you in D&D gear as the cover page. A wizard or something." "Really? I thought just a normal photo of me in a suit..." "Which they'll see you in at interview time. You're trying to establish a character that people will remember - right?" "Right!" "How far did you get with D&D?" "I was a 17th level Mage with a +10 Wand of Lightning!" he blurts, unable to suppress the pride. "Right - list that in your acheivements. Oh, and put a 'Bronze lifesaving award' in too." "Won't they check?" "How? Anyway, if it ever came down to it, a bronze lifesaving award only means you're skilled enought to rescue someone from a handbasin, so it won't matter." "But what if they find out?" "No one ever checks qualifications! So while you're at it slap in some fake certifications - like MCSE, MCSA, CCNA, etc - no one really knows what they mean. If you're asked at the interview just say you didn't bring the certificates because they're framed." "Uh-huh." "Oh, and best to keep it informal too. So in the covering letter, don't be using things like 'Dear Sir' and 'Yours Sincerely'." "No?" "No! Use things like 'H3y Dud3z!!!!!' and 'LaT3R l33tR!'" "Oh. OK." "Well, I think that should think cover it." "You missed out criminal record," the PFY adds. "Oh, right. Put in something like 'breaking and entering' or 'theft as a servant' a couple of years back." "WHY?!?!" the wannabe gasps. "Look," the PFY says quietly, glancing around in case we're being listened to. "Occasionally, technical roles call for a little bit of the old thud and blunder - say you need to check out a user's workstation off the record - or maybe they'll want you to wander over to competitors site and uplift some information - at night. They want someone who isn't a career criminal, but who does know how to handle the black-ops, so to speak." "Riiiight," he burbles, seeing himself as the James Bond of the technical world. "Thanks, I'll get right onto it!" ... Three days later .... "Morning," the Boss burbles, trundling into the office with benevolence on full beam. "I've just managed to fill that technical role in R&D, and I believe you two were instrumental in helping him with that fantastic CV of his..." Sigh. I think I'd like to be killed now please... BOFH 2003: Episode 20 So the Boss has finally tipped a little too much of the overproofed rum on his cereal in the morning and has become a liability. Well, when I say "become a liability", I ACTUALLY mean "become MORE of a liability". Well, when I say "MORE of a liability", I ACTUALLY mean "a complete nightmare". Well, when I say "complete nightmare" I mean: nightmare as in turning up to work brushed cotton pyjamas with a gaping fly, having to give a televised lecture to all the eligible women in the world and having the pants fall down. And then having a test about a subject you haven't studied for. In a tunnel that just keeps getting smaller and smaller. In other words, a liability. The crunch came when he committed to buying all the scheduled desktop replacements at a local retailer advertising package deals because that way everyone got a scanner, inkjet printer and modem in the bundle, which was a bargain. If that wasn't bad enough, he decided to give them a choice of desktop or tower models. And, as every administrator with even the SLIGHTEST clue knows, the LAST thing you give your users is a choice. And the calls haven't stopped since. And not just from the people wanting to know the virtues of horizontal over vertical - a PFY strongpoint apparently - but also from those whose desktop wasn't scheduled for replacement but has suddenly got a pen up the power supply. The coincidence intrigues me, and after a bit of legwork the common denominator is revealed: young, cute, female. I lock the PFY in the lift for two hours with the Pan Pipe music turned up to 10 so he can contemplate his sins. So the Boss has to go. Only it's getting tricky now because the Head of IT is a bit twitchy about all the Health and Safety fines we've racked up in the past. It seems that being an IT manager has a job danger index approaching that of an Elite republican guard. ... "Long Term Secondment?" the PFY asks, as I unveil my plan. "Yep. You give someone enough info that they sneakily create themselves a cushy job in another group, then drop the role like second period maths once you've appointed someone to replace them. It's a great idea which someone posted to one of the Bastard blogs! Wish I'd thought of it myself!" "So, maybe we could put them in Shipping?" he offers. "Nah, they've only got two people - it apparently needs to be in a reasonably large department that's not actually growing, but might possibly want to add people to bolster the impression of dynamism." "THE BEANCOUNTERS!" "Yes!" I concur, joyfully. "Now all we've got to do is think up some reason why he'd want them and they'd want him." "He'd make the company more money?" "Nah, no one cares about that. The best motivators are personal prestige or the chance to shaft someone whose guts they really hate." "Like us, you mean?" "Yes. Good point. But what role?" "What about IT Asset Management! They're always asking us to track down 'lost' inventory." "Yes, and they'd been keen to sniff out something dodgy!" "But would the Boss go for it?" "With a PA running his life and using his office by extortion?" "Ah..." . . . Two days later the fix is in. After a ten-minute Google frenzy I find a couple of articles to support the need for an IT Asset Manager, fake up an 'IT-Auditweek' newsletter with the links concerned and implying that organisations that didn't have an IT Manager in the Auditing role were probably losing millions of quid every year to e-shrinkage, and then anonymously e-mail it to some senior beancounters. The Boss fell over himself to get the role, saving me having to lie that the company auditors were a little concerned with the expenses his PA had been claiming for him. Quicker than you can say Technical Manager in charge of Asset Management and Tracking, the Boss was one! For about a day - until the PFY helpfully noted that the same functionality was built into our current helpdesk software. But you know what they say, one door closes and another one slams shut and has planks nailed over it... "Lucky I didn't move out of my office," the Boss chuckles nervously, wandering up to his door. "Your office?" his PA asks, looking up from his desk. "Well, TECHNICALLY my office." "No, technically it's my office," she responds, pointing at the new nameplate. "I noticed the transfer and applied for the role, what with my intimate knowledge of the area." Oh, she's good! "But I'm back!" "No, I believe you're redundant," she responds, waving a recently delivered sheet of paper around. "But that's constructive dismissal!" "It's only constructive if we create the position - but you thought this role up and proposed it, didn't you?" . . . And about now I'm getting that nasty deep down feeling that I've been played. "But I am looking for an assistant..." Oh, she's really good. Women like that, you can't help imagining what they'd look like administering a Linux farm. OK, so I need to get out more... BOFH 2003: Episode 21 Don't you just always get them, people who're sure that the only reason you were put on the planet was to make their life a living Hell. I mean obviously, if you'd annoyed me there might be a bit of friendly unholy retribution, but it's not like I go out looking to be annoyed. As opposed to THIS person. "Yes, well, as I said in my email, I need to get Domain Administrator access to manage the machines of my team," the user burbles. "Yes, and if you read my reply, I said that I wasn't going to give it to you." "I don't think you understand the importance of this project to the company and how it..." >natter natter natter< " I mentally switch off until I realise that the drone has ended. "Hello?" the user asks. "Hello?" I echo. "You're still there?" "I'm still where?" "There. You're still on the line?" "Sorry, I can't make out what you're saying." "Can you hear me now?" "Can I what?" "Hear me." "Not for me thanks, I'm trying to cut down." "Look, there must be something wrong with the line, I'll call back!" ... Ten seconds later ... "Can you hear me now?" he asks. "Can I hear you now?" "Yes." "No. Why don't you try calling back on the other line?" "OK, what's the number?" I give him the mailroom number and ring off. And roger me senseless with a roll of thinwire if he's not banging on the door outside Mission Control five minutes later! "It's about domain admin privilege!" he continues. "Sorry?" "Domain Administrator privileges to administer my machines!" "Sorry, there must be a crossed line, I can't hear what you're saying!" "Oh," he sneers sarcastically, penny dropping, "is that your way of saying I can't have Domain Admin privileges?" "Oh no. My way of saying you can't have Domain Admin privileges is to say 'You can't have Domain Admin privileges' - you know, like I did in your email!" "Oh be serious!" "Serious is my m--" "Middle name. Yes, I can guess..." "What? What sort of mother would give their kid a middle name like that? No, I'm afraid mine's far more commonplace." "Oh, yes, and what's that?" "User hater." "That's not commonplace." "It is around here," I counter. "What's going on here?" the Boss - well, the Boss's PA, if you want to get technical, see last week's episode - asks, smelling trouble and trying to head it off at the pass as a way of proving he should have his job back. "Oh, just another person who wants Domain Admin privilege." "But we don't give that out do we?" "You might not ordinarily, but this is a particularly important project and my failure to implement it will not go down at all well in the boardroom," the user responds. "Oh!" the Boss backtracks, damn him and his rubber spine! "What project is that then?" "My group and I are on the verge of cracking expenses fraud in the company!" "Expenses fraud!" I echo, pressing the button for the PFY's BATPAGER. "How interesting. You should have said!" "Yes! Over the past five weeks we've been creating a huuuuge spreadsheet of all the expenses claims over the past few years from the paper copies and we're just about ready to run a comprehensive analysis of them looking for cases which meet certain criteria, with each member of the team concentrating on a particular area - meals, travel, equipment, petty cash, etc." "Sounds fascinating! What criteria are you looking for exactly?" "Oh, all sorts! Double dipping from separate expenses, duplicate claims from members of staff, staff who've authorised their own expenses, large one-off payments to companies which no longer exist, false claims for extended work hours and overtime that doesn't match building access logs - you name it, we're looking for it!" "It certainly sounds like you've got every known dodge," I admit, with complete and depressing honesty. "So how much do you expect to save the company?" "Save? Who knows - actually the focus is more on preventing future claims and bringing perpetrators to court!" "And a good thing too!" I agree sagely. "Anyway, speaking of expenses claims and the like," I add, scribbling on a purchase order furiously and handing it over to the Boss, "could you autograph that for me?" "A long-handled spade and three bags of quicklime," the auditor burbles "What on earth is that for?" "It's technical," the PFY responds, bowling up and catching the end of the conversation. "Part of our back-up plan!" "Well it's just the sort of odd order that would normally be ringing alarm bells in my head!" the auditor chuckles. "As it should," I respond, again all too honestly "Anyway, about this Domain Admin privilege, why don't we line you up with that right now and you can get to work. Tell me, how are you going to use it - just to set my mind at rest from a security perspective?" "Well, I have this utility I've used before which uses something called SMS to distribute things between machines, so I thought I'd copy the database from my machine to my team's and they can get cracking." "After you take a back-up copy of your data," I suggest. "Yes, yes, I'll do that the moment I get back! I have put a copy in the department file share, but you can't be too careful, can you?" "No indeed!" >clickety tap tap< "Well, that's your Domain account created, AdminAudit, up and running when you get back to your office!" "Excellent! Thanks!" he burbles, striding off with the Boss in tow (in case there's a chance of reflected glory) to make company history. "And" >clickety< "that's your datafile deleted from the server and" >clickety< "the server and its indexes deleted from the back-up system" >clickety, tap, tap, clickety< "as well as" >click, tap, tap, click< "all non-OS files on your desktop machine - and" >clickety, click, click, click< "your team's desktop machines - (in case you're a lying bastard)" >clickety< "deleted, and, just to be sure " >clickety, drag, click, click, tap< "a run a quick disk zeroer over the lot of them." "Well," the PFY sighs appreciatively, "it's good to see a true professional at work." "Professional? Yes, I suppose I am, and it's time like these that... WAIT, do you smell that?" "What?!" "Fire, Accounts Payable archives - five minutes from now!" "Meet you at the pub in ten?" the PFY asks. "You're on. And don't forget an expenses form - Meal and overtime!" "Gotcha!" BOFH 2003: Episode 22 It's mobile, it's comms, it's great - you know it, your geeky users want it. But then people are rarely happy. They want 802.11b and they want it yesterday, and you're the one who's supposed to have installed it. Yesterday. However, as a seasoned computing veteran, before you put your budget where someone's mouth has been, just ask yourself these questions: 1. Mobile comms in your workplace currently consists of: a. Full 802.11b coverage b. Partial 802.11b coverage c. Unadvertised 802.11b coverage in your region the IT Dept d. Anywhere the roll of thinwire cable can get to! 2. You would install 802.11 in your workplace except that: a. You're unsure of the security implications b. The building would have too many dead spots c. The budget would be difficult to justify d. Half the staff would come to work with tinfoil wrapped round their heads 3. Wireless would get most use in meeting rooms to: a. Allow people to take online notes of meeting progress b. Allow people to read their email during slow periods c. Allow people to send sneaky messages to each other d. Keep people 'abreast' of the porn revolution 4. In your opinion your users would judge the throughput of the wireless network in: a. Bytes per second b. Kilobytes per second c. Megabytes per second d. Smutty movie frames per second 5. Using your knowledge of the people concerned, the mobile devices commonly used by your technical staff would most likely be: a. PDA b. Laptop c. Webcam d. Shoecam 6. An anonymous survey to determine the most-requested places to put 802.11b coverage would find most demand for: a. Cafeteria b. Designated smoking areas c. Reception d. The gents' toilets 7. After a lengthy campaign advertising coverage areas, a user complains about a massive dead spot. You know that when you get to their room you're going to find: a. Their PCMCIA card has popped out b. Their PCMCIA aerial has broken off c. They don't have, nor have they ever had, a PCMCIA card d. Their desktop machine on a trolley in the corridor 8. The security of your 802.11b solution is ensured by: a. WEP b. Access restricted to named hardware addresses c. VPN connectivity d. Burying the bodies of the people who try to get around with it 9. An annoying user repeatedly comes to complain about the poor bandwidth in his area. You: a. Add another access point in an effort to double the bandwidth b. Move the access point closer to his area c. Do a site survey d. Do a site survey. Then install a large ungainly microwave dish precariously above his workstation. Set to DEFROST... 10. The best way to encourage uptake in 802.11b at your workplace would be posters: a. Noting 802.11b on site b. Advising of troubleshooting techniques c. Advertising best coverage areas d. Advertising 'Kournokova nude - only on wireless!' Scoring Mostly a: A technical response for a technical workplace. In fantasyland. Mostly b: You mean well, and give your users a lot of credit. Mostly c: A practical response from someone who's seen the highs and lows of the user community. Mostly d: The healthy cynicism we expect from a true professional. BOFH 2003: Episode 23 So I'm making a hardware call about a dud disk which can only mean one thing: I'm going to be annoyed. I start up a game of Age of Empires in the assurance that I will have taken over the world with my water powered nuclear generators by the time they answer the phone. And I'm not far wrong. After negotiating my way through an IVR phone system that was built by the same guy who invented recursion, I'm slapped in a PRIORITY queue, which will mean that I'll get to talk to someone about the time I urgently need to go to the toilet. I pull the PFY's briefcase a little closer, planning for future needs. The repeated assurances of how important both I and my call are to the hardware manufacturer do nothing to improve my mood as I listen to my number in the queue slowly decrement. I'm reminded all too often that if I'd bought the vendors triple-platinum-bum-cover-special maintenance contract, I could now be talking to a service representative instead of waiting in a phone queue with all the other plebs who bought the gold edition 24 x 7 x 2 hour response, foolishly thinking that that was had something to do with maintenance coverage. And surprise of surprises, for the price of a testicle transplant I can upgrade my ex-top-of-the-line maintenance for the current top-of-the-line maintenance and be assured that I will have priority treatment from now on. Until they release the quadruple platinum cover, of course. OK, so I'm annoyed. Several million rings later. "Hello, how can I help you?" "I'd like to log a hardware fault please." I say testily. "Ok, I'll just transfer you." "WAIT!" I cry, before he can do any more. "Yes?" "If you're going to transfer me now, why didn't I get transferred when I pressed 7 on the IVR system to select 'make a hardware call'?" "Oh, that's a customer assurance thing." "As in 'assure yourself that the customer didn't hang up about two hours ago, sick of waiting'?" "I... uh... I'll put you through." I wait impatiently while the phone rings. Mid-ring I'm informed that the call may be monitored for training purposes (ie. when the company wants to teach a skilled hardware engineer how to appear retarded). "Hi, hardware service, you're speaking with Terry. How may I help?" "Hardware Call," I snap. "Righto. Do you have a maintenance contract with us?" "Yes!" "What was the maintenance contract number?" "No idea." "Well, without a maintenance number this would be a chargeable call. Are you sure you don't have a maintenance contract number?" "No. I do have a customer number, which our contract was indexed by when I last called you. I also have the main switchboard number, which our contract was indexed by a few calls before that. I can even give you the serial number of the machine concerned, which worked about a year ago, which was in turn the index method of choice after you changed from caller name. Which was the index method you used after changing from maintenance contract number about three years ago." "Uh. Well you see it's got this box that we have to type your maintenance number into, before we can press search." "Terry is it?" "Yes." "How long have you been working there, Terry?" "Uh... three months..." "And what did you do before that, Terry?" "I was at college." "Of course you were. Now, Terry, where do you see yourself in, say ten years' time?" "I... Well, I suppose as a chief hardware support specialist." "I think you need to aim higher. With your qualifications, and at your company, you probably have all they need already. Were your parents married?" "Yes." "Ah well, that's running against you from the start - glass ceiling material. But anyway, so you have a vision of yourself in an on-site technical role sometime in the future?" "Oh yes!" "OK. Do us a little favour. Our customer number is 8732281. Click on the Query Open Calls button and enter that number, and then press search." "Ah... >clickety< >click< OK, three calls outstanding in the past four years." "Right. Now look at the last entry in those call logs." "Um >click< Engineer dispatched to site... >clickety< Engineer dispatched to site... >clickety< >click< They all say "Engineer dispatched to site'." "Right. And do you know what happened to those engineers?" "No?" "No. No one does. No one ever will. One day, Terry, when you're a hardware support engineer, you might get sent to this site. And if you mess me around with maintenance contract numbers, pressing search, or chargeable calls, your call will be the fourth on that list..." "You don't know who I am." >clickety<

"Au contraire >clickey< Terry Carter, 22, partially completed Bachelor of Science at the University of L..." "How did you..." "It's all there in your Company's poorly protected staff newsletter. And look, there's even a photo of you. Why, I could recognise you in the street - and with the quality of the photo, probably even late at night in a darkened alley..." "I think I'll just get my supervi..." "DON'T PALM ME OFF TO YOUR SUPERVISOR!" "I... Uh..." "Now listen very carefully, and I'll tell you exactly what to do..." . . . Three hours later, and strangely within the maintenance support time, the faulty disk is replaced and the engineer departs at speed. Sometimes you just have to reach out and touch someone. BOFH 2003: Episode 24 "It nearly crushed her!" the H&S feeb blubbers, in an attempt to justify yet another new brainwave. "And you think that we'll avoid workplace tragedy by 'Securely, at a minimum of three points, bolt monitors to immovable desktop surfaces'?" the PFY asks. "Yes!" "What about laptops? Do we need to bolt them too?" "Obviously laptops don't need bolting down," he responds, "they're not as likely to fall. AND not a piece of equipment that would hurt you if it fell on you." "So what about LCD monitors?" I ask. "They could fall, but they wouldn't do you much damage if they fell on you - not even the really big ones." "Well, I suppose would could examine things like this on a case-by-case basis because some pe--" "And speaker systems?" I interrupt "What about those ginormous sub-woofters you see up in your department?" "I think you mean subwoofers," the H&S guy points out. "No, no, sub-woofters - the people that own those big speakers. Some of those speakers are huge! Are you going to make the sub-woofters bolt them down?" "LOOK, I'M ONLY DOING MY JOB!" he snaps suddenly, obviously feeling underappreciated. "And what a fine job it is!" I add, cheerfully. "And we'll happily bolt our monitors down at three places. What's next on your list?" "I'm to check all your fire extinguishers are approved for use on electrical fires." "Be my guest!" I cry, gesturing about the room expansively - loving, as I do, red tape in all it's manifestations. He wanders off extinguisher spotting until he comes across the unit near the door. "This one's not an approved type! It's water! You could get a severe shock from this if you used it on an electrical fire!" "Ah well that IS the visitor's extinguisher," the PFY notes, nonchalantly. "VISITOR'S extinguisher?" "Yes, for visitors. Which we don't have. But, because of the square footage of the control room, you guys made us have one extinguisher for each person in the Control room, plus a spare." "My records say that it should be a CO2 unit!" "Well it was, but it was needed in the Computer room, so we had a bit of a shuffle." "You had a water type extinguisher in the Computer Room!!?!?!" "No, that came from the cafeteria." "How did the cafeteria one get to be here?" "OK..." the PFY sighs, taking a deep breath for the story. "We needed a FLAT-bottomed extinguisher in the Computer Room to keep the door open when we're transferring tapes from the tape safe room to the tape jukebox in the Computer Room. The Computer Room extinguisher had a ROUND bottom, which wouldn't stand up by itself. When we tried to swap them we found the Computer Room one was too tall to fit on this wall hook, which is rather low. So we swapped it with the one in the cafeteria which was shorter." "B-b-but this is the wrong extinguisher for this area - and the one in the cafeteria was supposed to have been a... >scrabble< dry powder one - for oil fires - not the water one you took, and what the HELL are you doing holding a fire-rated door open with an extinguisher? Don't you realise the risks?!?!?" "What risks?" "A fire could spread from your tape safe room through the open fire door to the Computer Room!" "That's ridiculous!" I cry, re-entering the conversation. "A fire's FAR more likely to start in the Computer Room - especially with those flagons of isopropyl alcohol on top of warm equipment." "You're supposed to keep flammibles in the dangerous items cupboard!" "We swapped that with the bloke from stores who was told HE had to keep HIS stocks of isopropyl alcohol in a dangerous items cupboard." "You SWAPPED it? What for?" "His bottles of isopropyl alcohol, I seem to recall," the PFY responds. "This is all going in my report you know!" he threatens. "You should do what you think is best," I say to plactate him. "I will. Now I want to look in this Computer Room." "Oh." "What?" "Well, I'd like to let you in, but if you remember back to last time H&S had a slow day - probably all of six weeks ago - you told us that the Computer Room was a dangerous place and we shouldn't permit visitors." "Which you said you don't have." "No - yet we do have a visitor's extinguisher. Ironic, isn't it?" "Well I still want to look in the Computer Room!" "No can do!" "Why not?" "You haven't been on the Computer Room safety briefing you people insisted that visitors must attend prior to entering the Computer Room." "How about I do that now?" he responds sarcastically. "Are you sure? It's quite involved..." "Positive!" he snaps triumphantly. . . . Ten minutes later . . . "THAT'S RIGHT!" I shout through the Computer Room door and over the halon discharge alarm "KEEP LOW WHEN YOU CRAWL TO THE DOOR, THAT WAY THE HALON WILL HAVE LESS EFFECT!" "Will it?" the PFY asks, peering into the Computer Room. "No idea, but we'll find out when he gets over here and I tell him he dropped his swipe card in the middle of the room." "So that's the safety briefing is it?" the PFY asks. "Lock them in the Computer Room and test the Halon?" "It depends. I've 'prepared' lessons on 'Navigating the Computer Room in the Dark' - which we've always enjoyed in the past - 'The dangers of racks without earthquake restraints', 'Why you should check how secure the grating floor is before stepping into a comms riser' and, if he's still moving, 'Why we always treat wires as live'." "Ooooh, can I teach that one?" the PFY gasps. "Of course you can," I say magnanioumously. After all, Health and Safety is everyone's responsibility. BOFH 2003: Episode 25 It's a very VERY quiet day so I finally talk the PFY into continuing our board game while the game's fresh. >rattle< >tap< >tap< >tap< >tap< >flick<

"Invoicing 'error' in your favour, collect 1000 quid." >rattle< >tap< >tap<

"BUGGER!" I snap. "Ooooh, go to the Tape Safe!" "I've got a Get-out-of-tape-safe key," I respond, throwing it down on the board as the Boss wanders in. . . . "Just wondered if you'd got around to looking at my PC... I-Is that a game?!" the Boss asks, slightly put out. "It's not just a game," I respond "It's Megalomania™, the Bastard Operator training tool." "It's a game!" he blurts happily. "I love board games... HEY! It's exactly like our building!" he gasps, looking at the multilevel playing board. "Of course it is. Each game is as true to life as possible. Look, see, there's even a stain on your office floor from when the PFY electrocuted you that time." "Can I play?" the Boss asks. "It'll cost you 20 quid," the PFY replies. "What for?" "Training fees. Stamp Duty. Arbor tax." "OK, so what's the object of the game?" the Boss asks, handing over the cash. "To take over or compromise all the offices in the building." "And how do you do that?" "To take over an office, you have to land on it and pay the occupant to leave the room. You then install a fibre feed, media converter, a patch-by-exception frame, etc. When the room is full you have a datacentre." "Why?" "When someone lands in your datacentre they pay service fees. The more services, the higher the fees." "Why go into the offices instead of staying in the corridors?" "Because the cleaning robot comes through at the end of each round and pushes you forward into the nearest office." "Ah, I see. And what does 'compromised' mean?" "It means you've installed a hybrid PC in the room with the ability to snoop network traffic, act as an anonymous Internet proxy, record voice and images. It's done outside this room, but you'll not get to that level in this session." "This session? How long does the game take to play?" "Well, we've been playing this baby for about six months. Oh, and lastly, compromised offices have a little black computer piece in them." "OK, so where do I start?" "Ground floor, at personnel. Forward-invoice the company and collect 1000 quid." >rattle<

"Five!" >tap< >tap< >tap< >tap< >tap<

"Mail room. Can I buy it?" "Compromised. Pay the bastard fund five quid!" "Anyone break a 1000?" the Boss chuckles. "No, real money," the PFY replies, pointing at a large envelope overstuffed with fivers. "That's why you avoid compromised offices." "Where's this money going?" the Boss asks, extracting five quid from his wallet as painfully as a molar. "And how much is in there?" "The winner gets the remainder at the end of the game, but you get ten per cent of the fund for compromising an office," the PFY responds "and there's about... oh... 735 quid in there so far." "SEVEN HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FIVE QUID!?!" the Boss gasps, greedily. "Yes," the PFY responds . >rattle< >tap< >tap<

"Fourth floor reception. I'll pay them out. What's it worth?" I look up the card for the office concerned. "Four women, all lunchtime drinkers, so it'll cost you 25 quid in drinks, times four to get them legless at lunchtime: 100 quid!" "Cheap at half the price. Now, I'd like to buy a fibre feed, media converter, patch-by-exception frame, switch and a server rack." "100 quid, 20 quid, 200 quid, 100 quid and 600 quid." "SIX HUNDRED QUID FOR A BLOODY SERVER RACK!" the PFY snaps "It was 300 last time!" "Yes, but you're on the fourth floor now and Fat Barry doesn't like carrying them up the stairs - since you compromised the service lift." "Oh yeah. OK, so that's 820 quid?" "1020 quid, yes." >rattle< >tap< >tap< >tap<

"Oh bugger..." "What?" the Boss asks. "He's stopped in the corridor, right next to my datacentre!" the PFY laughs triumphantly. "See, all the fruit, plus dual server racks, blade servers, cellular service and WAP capability. Which, when the cleaning bot comes through, NOW, runs to a tidy... 2030 quid - but I'll call it two grand!" I hand over the Megalocash™, and pass the dice to the Boss. >rattle< >tap< >tap< >tap<

"GO TO THE TAPE SAFE!" "Oh, and how long do I stay there?" "Until the air runs out." "Then what happens?" "You pay another 20 quid and start again." "What!?!" the Boss cries unhappily, then finally extracts the required funds. >rattle< >tap< >tap< >tap< >tap< >tap< >tap<

"Consultancy Card!" the Boss blurts. >flick<

"HAH! Inform your Boss that the Telco only licenses phones for use on ground floor, and upper floors are extra. Pocket 1500 quid 'license fees'." "Well done!" the PFY and I comment, as I hand over the Megalocash™. "Didn't we pay for some floor licensing for phones a couple of weeks back?" the Boss asks suspiciously. "Yes. Like I said, it's as close as possible to real life." "Oh... right..." he adds, confused. >rattle< >tap< >tap< >tap<

"Opportunity Theft Card," the PFY says "Disable the Boss' switch port and steal half his memory when he brings it in for repair." "YOU TOLD ME IT WAS A HARDWARE PROBLEM!" the Boss shouts angrily. "Well, you've got to take the game seriously," I counter. "Oh this is ridiculous!" the Boss snaps angrily. "I'm not playing this. And I want my bloody network connection turned back on again. Where's my machine?" "On my desk." I respond. "When should install it for you?" "And lose half my memory - I don't bloody think so!" . . . "What a poor loser!" the PFY comments later as he put's the Boss' playing piece back in his office. "As opposed to my good self," I reply. "A cheerful winner, taking... uh... 74 quid from the Bastard Fund." "Why?" I left my fingers do the talking as I place a black computer alongside the Boss' playing piece. "BASTARD! You were playing outside the game!" "Just seizing the moment," I respond. >rattle< >tap< >tap< >tap<

"Ooooh, Gratuitous Violence card! One sore loser coming up!" >BZZZZZERT!<

BOFH 2003: Episode 26 "I still don't see why this should affect myself and the PFY," I blurt as the boss hands over a lengthy questionaire. "I've told you already, it's something to do with a contract that we're signing - some defence department thing." "A defence department thing?" the PFY burbles cheerily. "Does that mean that we'll get a security clearance? Like James Bond?" Sigh. "Oh, there's some form of vetting involved for anyone who could have access to the data that the company is working on, but we're not sure what it is yet - it's one of those need to know things," the Boss advises, feigning superior knowledge. "Right," I respond. "And this new contract, it'll mean a stack more work? For the company I mean?" "Oh yes, masses. You might even have to take another person on, there'll be so much to do. Apparently. Anyway, meantime, you're to fill out these questionnaires, and participate in some simple vetting procedure things that they want to run. Should be over in no time..." . . . The next day, I secretly observe the PFY's interview from a quiet office on the third floor... "And what does this picture remind you of?" the analyst asks, scratching out some cursory notes about the time, the PFY's demeanor etc. on her pad "A symmetrical ink blot card, as designed by Rorschach?" "Yes, but what does that Ink Blot LOOK like?" "Some spilt paint?" "Ok, but if it were, say, something else, what would it be?" "Oh! I get you. Well I SUPPOSE I could be... er..." "Yes?" "Spilt tomato sauce?" "NO! Sorry, I didn't mean to shout. I mean if it were an object in the real world, what object would you think it would look like, and how?" "You mean like a dishwasher?" "Yes!" "Well, it looks a LITTLE bit like an old Pertec reel tape drive, on its side..." "Yes, and why do you think it be on its side?" "You mean you want me to guess?" "Yes, how did the tape drive come to be on it's side?" "Someone might have slipped on the spilt paint I guess..." "FORGET THE BLOODY PAINT!" she snaps testily. "Is there a reason, do you think, that the tape is on its side?" "Maybe it's out in the storeroom?" >scratch< >scratch< "Right, I see. Okay, what about this card?" "Uuuhm - not paint or sauce, right?" "No." "The cooling fan of a VAX 11/780 with the grill removed." "And what's a VAX 11/780?" "A computer, an old computer." >scratch< >scratch< "OK, and this?" "Ah, that looks a lot like the cable loom in our UPS." "And the UPS is another computer, yes?" "No, a power supply. For computers," >scratch< >scratch< "And what about this one?" "A pile of thin-wire Ethernet cards." "Cards?" "Yes, out of a computer..." . . . Ten minutes later . . . "So how did I do?" "Well your life appears to be dominated by the technology you work with." "MY LIFE?!?" the PFY cries. "YOU'RE THE ONE WITH ALL THE GEEKY PICTURES!!!" "So it seems," she sighs sadly "OK, now I'd like to play a simple word association 'game'." "Oh, where I say the first word the comes into my head?" the PFY asks. "Yes! Ready? Love." "Is that the word, 'love'?" "Yes!" "Oh right, only I thought you might have meant it as a term of endearment." "What?" "You know, like 'Get us a prawn Malibari will you, Love'?" "No, it was part of the game." "Oh. Right. What was the word again?" "Love." "Right. Uhm, lager." "Ok, faster responses if you could - time is a factor. Work." "Lager." "Family." "Lager." "Joy." "Lager." "Security." "Ooh... lager." "HOW CAN YOU GET LAGER FROM SECURITY?!?" she cries, cracking slightly. "Oh, one of the security guys is a beer drinking machinegun!" "I see. OK, so you get lager from the words 'love', 'work', 'family', 'joy' and 'security'?" "Yep!" "And you see technical components in ink blot tests?" "In the geeky cards that you chose, yes. I don't think I'm the one with the problem there..." "And you believe that you could be trusted with our nation's secrets?" "Sure!" . . . Half an hour later . . . "And what does this picture remind you of?" the analyst asks me. "A symmetrical ink blot card, as designed by Rorschach?" "What ELSE does it LOOK like?" she seethes. "Oh well, sp--" "DON'T say spilt paint, sauce, curry or any crap like that!" she snaps. "I was just going to say spent casings out of a Heckler und Koch P7M8 9mm Pistol. End on, of course." >scratch< >scratchey< >scratch< >scratch< >scratch< >scratchey< >scratch<

>scratch< >scratch<

"Really? And how did they come to be here?" "What, you want me to guess? No idea, you'd have to ask my assistant, he's the gun freak!" "I see. What about this card?" >flick<

"Ah right, these are definitely the shell casings of a HK Mark 23 Pistol. End on. .45 calibre." >scratch< >scratchey< >scratch< >scratch< >scratch< >scratchey< >scratch<

>scratch< >scratch< >scratchey< >scratch< >scratch<

>scratch<

"And your assistant would know how they came to be here?" "Probably. Although sometimes he forgets when he's stressed. You know he once took my Mark 23 home, thinking that it was his!" "And you're not a gun freak?" "Oh no. I'm a collector. Huge difference." "The difference being?" "I've got more guns." . . . "Caring." "Lager." "Childbirth." "Lager." "Redundancy." "Lager." "How the hell can you get bloody lager from all those questions?" "Well, anyone who gives a crap's going to buy you a lager on a Friday, you always have a lunchtime shout when someone has a kid, and you go to the pub with people who've been made redundant." "Spend a bit of time at the pub do you?" she asks. "No more than anyone else at the company." "What, say four to five hours a week?" "Oh yes. But sometimes we drink after work too, so it'd be hard to get an exact figure..." . . . Two days later we find out the deal's off. Not only has our security rating been dropped lower than IIS, but we've also been made ineligible to bid for any contracts where safety is of importance, which just leaves us with road, rail and government building contracts. She's a hard world at times. Still, at least someone on the fourth floor's having a baby or getting fired or something, so it's not all bad... BOFH 2003: Episode 27 So the PFY's been showing off to a couple of the more attractive young ladies in the new employees induction course, and I have to admit that he's doing well. So well in fact that I have a twinge of remorse about locking his swipe card out of the cafeteria when everyone was watching. But the twinge passed quickly, which is the main thing. Still, in my defence, he did make some rather nasty comments about me when he thought I was out of earshot, which thanks to the wonders of electronic age, is very few places in the building. Even less when you're carrying around a PDA which is transmitting your every word over the wonders of 802.11b Not that I mind the PFY using me as a foil to enhance his social life - I mean, in his position I'd do the same. In fact... "Afternoon, ladies," I say nonchalantly as I wander over to the new-employee group. "Mind if I join you?" I take their noncommittal response as a non-negative and sit myself down, ensuring that the PFY can see me from his vantage point outside the door. It's only a matter of time before someone gets up and lets him in, so I make the most of it by waving to him cheerfully. "The old 'Locked out of the cafeteria' joke," I burble. "A classic!" The assembled womanage turn and smile at him, which only adds to his annoyance. There goes that twinge again. And gone. "So, I hope my assistant has been taking care of you, showing you how we take care of your needs." "Yes, he has," one of them responds. "He showed us how all your cabling worked, and the wirey stuff, and showed us around the computer room with all the machines in it." "He showed you round the computer room?" I confirm cheerfully, firing up the PDA, opening the PFY's calendar and scheduling a beating. "Yes, it's very noisy. And then we did the computer guessing game." "The guessing game?" "Where you have to click on things to win prizes." "Oh THAT game," I respond, smelling rodent. "And what did we all win?" "Well the guys down the end of the table won a box of photocopy paper each..." "Really?" "Yes, and those two there won a box of pens, but us three won the big prize!" "Free drinks at the Social Club on Friday night?" I ask, knowing the PFY only too well. "Oh, is that what the Mystery Dinner is?" she asks, slightly disappointed. "Oh, the MYSTERY DINNER! That IS the big prize. What we normally do-- well, is it OK if I spoil the mystery?" "Sure!" another replies. "OK, well, what normally happens is some of the IT people take the winners out to pre-dinner drinks at a cocktail bar, then pop off to dinner at the Dorchester or the Ritz." "Really?!" one gasps. "The Dorchester! With Nicholas Parsons?" "Unlikely," I respond. "Anyway, we generally leave once you've finished the day's induction. Does that fit in with everyone's plans?" A short discussion and a few phone calls later, it's a done deal. I notice the PFY has disappeared which means he's going to be reprogramming the door access system - probably with an axe, now that I've changed the access passwords - so I'd better work fast. "So what's this afternoon's induction tour?" "Ummmm, just a tour of the building and then there's a company introduction video." "So nothing important then?" "I guess not..." "Tell you what - why don't we do the tour of the building now then just pop off for some drinks and nibbles around afternoon tea time?" . . . One hour, and multiple detours to avoid the PFY (with PDA tracking) later... . . . "...and finally, this is the mail room, through which all the inwards and outwards correspondence passes. You'll note that all items are both x-rayed and exposed to a demagnetising field for security purposes, so you need to inform anyone sending you magnetic or x-ray sensitive material to mark the package accordingly, so that it isn't put through the system. OK, so who fancies a quick tour of the pub across the road?" . . . Two hours later... . . . "Anyone for another?" I ask, grabbing the glasses and turning toward the bar. "We really should get back for the video..." one of the three slurs. "And isn't your assistant supposed to be here?" "Yes, my assistant will be joining us as soon as he's... secured the services," I lie. "And UNFORTUNATELY, someone accidentally put the induction video into the mail room's demagnetiser - so that will probably be delayed somewhat." "Did you do that on purpose?" one of them asks coyly. "I... Drinks anyone?" While they're making their mind up about which brand of bubbly to test drive next, I excuse myself for a gentleman's rest stop. While I'm at it, I devote a bit of time to thinking about where we should relocate to next, in case the PFY works out that he can narrow down my location by seeing which Wireless Access Point has my PDA connected t-- >BBZZZZZERT!<

. . . "So have we made up our minds?" I hear the PFY ask, from the comfortable position he left me in, laying in the urinal. "Tell you what, why don't we grab a cab to the cocktail place?" "Aren't you going to wait for Simon?" the coy one asks, bless her. "Ah well, unfortunately he's been called back to the office to... secure the services," he replies. "Weren't YOU doing that?" "Yes, but it's a big job and he needs to do some technical stuff - like sweeping," the PFY replies as they exit. Well this isn't a happy ending... BOFH 2003: Episode 28 The Bastard wants to know: do you know your Computing Personalities? The following set of questions is aimed at determining whether you're up to the task of recognising a professional in their line of work. Select the correct response from the 'technical professional' to each initial statement in the following. Best of luck! Spot the Slave Trader You: "I need an experienced Linux Engineer with exposure to RedHat and Slackware" A. "Pardon?" B. "I'm sorry, we don't have those skills" C. "We don't have that, but we do have a relationship with another agency who may be able to fill the position" D. "We have someone who shows potential" E. "We have someone who used Word with a typing speed of three words per minute" Spot the Salesman on a commission "Could we have a low spec. machine, say a PIII 1.2 gig, with 128 Meg? A. "Sure" B. "I'd have to look, but I think so" C. "Sorry, we only have 1.5s and P4s. Want to see those?" D. "Yes, but everyone wants them at the moment so they'd be about the same price as a P4 1.2" E. "Sure, I can get you a P4 3G with Speakers, DVD ROM 1 Gig Memory 180 gig hard drive, 21in LCD flat screen monitor, inkjet printer and ADSL modem" Spot the 'Technical' Manager "We have a problem with our core router, looks like the content management firmware is dropping packets because of some poor criteria settings" A. "Dropping... ...Packets?" B. "Problem? With the Router?" C. "What Criteria are we talking about? Can we remove content management until it's sorted?" D. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about." E. >Dribble<

The IT 'Consultant' "So we just need a plan to rationalise our cabling infrastructure..." A. "OK, sure, I just need to get an overview of what you currently have" B. "Cabling - have you considered wireless?" C. "Sorry, I work in Active Device networking, but could put you onto someone who knows" D. "Could be a big job, but I'm up to it!" E. "Yes, I'd think you would. By the looks of it you've got a complete balls up. We'll probably need to start from the ground up. Luckily I have some contacts in the business who can tell you how to do it right this time. It won't come cheap and I can't give you a timeframe, expected cost or project plan. But I'm onto it!" The Beancounter "...Which means that to ensure sitewide authentication we need to slap a radius server in somewhere - shouldn't be more than a couple of grand, maybe five if we add a redundant power supply into the box along with a mirrored disk for higher availability" A. "OK, I suppose if you think it's necessary" B. "Five grand does seem a little pricey - are you sure it's worth it?" C. "I think we can do without the redundancy - go for the two grand box!" D. "Can't we run it on some other server? Doesn't 2000 do it?" E. "I have a machine on my desk which needs to be replaced because it catches fire every now and then. Just put it in a room near a sprinkler above it..." After-Sales Support "So we're pretty disappointed with the service we've been receiving on the kit we bought earlier in the year" A. "Really. How about I come and meet you, take down the details and see what we can sort out?" B. "What problems precisely? If you give me the jobs numbers I'll follow them up!" C. "Really? Those servers were state-of-the-art for uptime specs. Of course, that's nothing compared to our new product which has been voted top of the range of highly available..." D. "That's terrible. Perhaps it's time to replace them. We have some very good servers that have been voted top of the range..." E. "WHY DWELL ON THE PAST? Let's face it - if you had our new servers you wouldn't even remember the poor maintenance you've had. Tell you what, I'll knock the shipping fee off the first order for you as a sign of good faith." The Bastard "...And I really do need you to recover the files I was working on five weeks ago but accidentally forgot to back up" A. "I'm sure we'll be able to get something back" B. "I'll have a look at the backup indexes and see" C. "Our policy is only to keep data for 28 days, so it looks like you may be out of luck. Have you got any deleted file recovery tools?" D. >Clickety< "Nope, nothing there" E. "There's a one-time recovery charge of 50 quid per recovery. OK?" >Ching Ching< [3 seconds later] "Nope, nothing" The Bastard "...And then I turned my laptop on but the screen was black" A. "It may just be dark initially while it's booting. Wait a couple of minutes and see" B. "Maybe you've got your screen brightness and contrast wound down?" C. "Is the battery OK?" D. "It's rooted." E. "It's rooted" and "Drop it off here so we can steal the parts out of it... er... I mean run diagnostics" The Head of IT "We just installed the file-share machine and it all appears to be running very well" A. "Excellent!" B. "Ah yes, the file-share. I believe that that was a project that was most often requested of us" C. "What's a file-share machine - something like FTP is it?" D. "Yes, I used to use files when I started computing. You used them to keep the pins on card collater sharp..." E. >droool<

The Engineer "...And then the hard drive gave a whine and stopped" A. "So, let's just take a look at that motherboard then" B. "A fan problem, you say" C. "Sorry, I didn't bring any replacement keyboards with me" D. "I think you should leave the diagnosis to an expert" E. All of the above Scoring Mostly A: Perhaps you should work in the field of computing a while Mostly B: Perhaps you should work in the field of computing for a while Mostly C: Perhaps you should work in a field for a while Mostly D: OK, so you've seen some of the shame Mostly E: You've been there, done that, got the T-shirt and wear the scars. You know what to expect from a 'professional'. You're bitter too. Very, very bitter... BOFH 2003: Episode 29 It's a sad day for computing when your own boss doesn't even trust you to get equipment delivered, preferring instead to receipt it and lock it away in safe storage in the basement himself. This lack of trust is enough to upset a technical professional with impeccable standards. "You know what I like?" the Boss chirps, watching the company banner whirl around on his screensaver as I enter his room. "Hermaphrodite Nuns in Leather Saddlery?" I ask. "What?! No!" "Oh, you're past that now - good. Always best to make a clean break from that sort of thing - you never know where it might lead." "I'm not sure I understand what you're implying!" "Yes, mental faculties are generally the first - and worst - affected. One minute you're sure you know who you are and what's what, and the next minute you're logging into a chatroom as Rita, a lesbian truck driver from Hull." "I think it highly unlikely that I would eve--" "Know her do you?" "Just what are you implying?" "Implying? Why nothing! No, I don't imply anything. I let the keystroke logger do all that. I simply present the facts as I obtain them - with punctuation of course." "What are you going on about?" "Nothing, just testing." "Testing what?" "Oh, someone's been printing some smut to our printers then forgetting to collect it. We don't currently log it so we had to think of where it might have come from." "AND YOU THOUGHT OF ME?!" "Your name did come up. We saw the whole Rita, truckdriver thing and noticed a couple of similarities." "What similarities?" "Well, you both have a driving licence." "So does half the building!" "Yes, but half the building doesn't work in this office." "So you're saying it came from this office?" "No, but you work in this office." "Yes?" "And you don't find that a bit of a coincidence?" "It's my bloody office!" "Yes. Well. I can see you're getting upset, so maybe we should talk about this again later? Perhaps you want to arrange for personal support or legal representation?" "What for? I haven't bloody done anything!" "Yes, right, mum's the word then!" I say tapping the side of my nose knowingly. The PFY is, meantime, in the next room on the other end of a long piece of thick wire which is inching out of the vent system over to the Boss' keys. "So this isn't your printout then?" I ask loudly covering the noise of the keys' ascent while I mis-hand him a page so that it falls on the floor. "Th-that's disgusting!" the Boss chokes, sitting up as the PFY's hand pops out of the vent and quietly grabs the keyring. "It's not yours then?" "Of course not!" "Fair enough, well I s'pose I'd better continue looking for the culprit," I say, grabbing the printout and exiting. . . . "How long?" the PFY asks, scanning the Boss' keys nervously. "Well, if you're lucky it'll be an hour, but he had onion bhajis for lunch so there's a good chance he's going to want to use the porcelain ashtray sometime soon." "Almost there," he blurts. "Right! Where's the Magstripe duplicator?" "Running on my box!" I snap, looking for signs of movement, so to speak, from the Boss' office. . . . One READ and two VERIFY swipes later we have all the info we need for a duplicate card issue... "OK, I've got the Magstripe info. How do we get his PIN number?" "Isn't it written on his card?" I ask, guessing at the high standards of security the Boss would aspire to. "Oh yes..." We slip back to the Boss's office to return the keys only to find him deep in conversation with a particularly annoying helldesk geek about the virtues of patching your system regularly to protect you from virus infection. I have to say that I'm all for users patching their machines, I'm just not happy with the guy spending half his life wandering around the office talking to people and doing bugger all else. That's a TECHNICAL role! "Bloody hell, is that Linus Torvalds?!" I cry, pointing out the Boss' window. "Who?" the Boss and helldesk geek ask. It's my fault, of course, for assuming too much and aiming too high. "No it's not, it's the bird with the huge hands from the bikini commercial," the PFY adds, going for the save. "Where?" the pair ask, scrambling for the window while the PFY slips the keys down on the desk next to the Boss' wallet... Which I yank the cash out of and slip into the Helldesk geek's jacket pocket. You see a chance, you take it! "So ANYWAY," I continue, ad libbing. "About that Internet porn thing - I think you might want to revise your story somewhat - now that we have credit card information. I take it your card number is uh... 4372 8015 73--" "It's not mine!" the boss interupts. Look, I'll show you, I've got my card right... uh... Where's my bloody wallet gone?" . . . Ten minutes, and one call to security later we have a helldesk vacancy, and I also have the Boss' real credit card number for him to make a lot of suspicious Internet transactions with... Which only leaves the kit to misappropriate... Nah, I'll leave that for later. I can do with the overtime... BOFH 2003: Episode 30 Ahhh, Christmas! The music, the people, the presents and the office party. Goodwill to all men and Christmas bonuses to the plebs. Fantastic! "There are, ah... no Christmas bonuses this year," the boss mumbles quickly, hoping to launch into the next agenda item before any of the assembled staff start crying. "What?" a helldesk geek whimpers unhappily. "But I was going to use the money to pay for my trip up north!" Some mumblings from the back of the room indicate that the geek wasn't alone in planning his holiday around his bonus cheque... Damn shame. As a contractor and not entitled to bonuses since the change of policy a while back, I have to admit to not sharing the grief. Still, you have to feel sorry for them in a semi-paternal way. I realise no good will come of it when I get a couple of visitors with a proposition... . . . "What the hell's going on with our HR Server?!?!" the Boss blurts, crashing through the door to Mission Control at Warp Factor 3.5. "What do you mean?" the PFY asks, innocently. "The bloody pay system, it's taking money out of people's accounts!" he gasps. "But it's not payday!" "No, but they're paying the bonuses today, only they're paying them in negative amounts!" "I thought there wasn't any Christmas bonuses?" I ask. "Well not for general staff, but for managers and board members who've made savings over the past year..." "Ah, the old screw-the-workers trick!" I interject. "Not at all! There was simply insufficient money to reward all workers, so the board decided to allocate the money evenly and fairly among themselves and the managers who'd achieved the savings over the past year." "They awarded themselves a negative bonus? Well, I have to admit it's probably more fair than they ever imagined, but why talk to us - why not talk to the salaries people?" "They've tried reversing it, but the program won't let them change an annual bonus after it's been paid!" "Yes, well, I can understand why it won't let them do it, but why are you talking to us?" "We've got to reverse it! Now! People's bloody mortgages are at risk!" "Sorry, there's no way I'm doing that - it's embezzlement!" "It's OK, I'll take responsibility - but it has to be done!" "I'll need that in writing!" "Give me a piece of paper!" >scratch< "AUTHORITY TO" >scratchey scratch< "Reverse transactions and amounts as" >scratchy< "of now. THERE!" I grab the hunk of paper and wander over to my desk. "It'll take, oh, about an hour for me to find all the bonus people, do the reversals and get it updated to the bank. And I'll need someone from Salaries to OK it with the bank..." "I'll get them to do it immediately!" . . . ONE HOUR LATER . . . "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAVE YOU DONE!?" the Boss screams, ricocheting off the door to Mission Control as he bursts into the room "You've just bloody taken the money out again!" he sobs. "Yes - that's what you said." "WHAT?!?" "You said reverse the transactions and the amounts. So if we reverse the transaction we'd be taking a negative amount out of their account, and if we reverse the amount, it would then be a positive amount, so we took a positive amount out of their accounts. Like you said. See, it's on this piece of paper that you sign..." >Grasp!<

"What" >chew< >chew< "piece of paper?" >chew< the Boss asks, swallowing the evidence. "Oh, actually my mistake, that was my lunch expense claim that I'd left on my desk to dry out after I dropped it in the urinal..." >GAG!<

"HERE's the bit of pape..." >Grasp!<

>chew< "I didn't ">chew< "sign anything." "Actually, that's not it either, it was a white piece of paper wasn't it?" The boss starts stuffing paper down his gob like an industrial shredder, which isn't the way you want your superiors to see you when they're coming to find out where all their money's disappeared to... "You've got to hide me!" he gasps, ducking under the desk. "They'll bloody murder me if they seem me!" "Why? Surely you're just as affected as they are?" "Yes, but the bonus changes were my idea..." "Ah, I can see how that would make you a wanted man. Tell you what, hide under the PFY's desk for now." >Crash!<

"Where is he?" the Head of IT snaps, not at all in a good mood. "Who?" "Your bloody boss!" one of the other managers snarls. "No idea. Last I heard he was doing some bonus stuff." "Find him!" "Well I'd like to, but I'm still looking into this bonus thing. It seems that the money's just... disappeared. No wait! It looks like the first lot's been transferred, in much smaller amounts, into the non-management people's accounts!" "And the second lot?" "Gone!" the PFY responds faking horror whilst simultaneously clicking through first class air travel prices. "Reverse it!" "Yeah, I COULD, but I don't think you want to do that - we've already reversed it once, and that didn't work out too well. You MIGHT end up losing another bonus from your account..." . . . The next day, down at the local . . . "mmmmmfffffffffffgguggle," the PFY says, which isn't surprising, considering he's been drinking free pints (courtesy of bonus-enriched staff) for the past three hours. "ggggggg," I respond, sliding off the table and onto the floor. Ahhhh, Christmas... BOFH 2003: Episode 31 . . . Late one evening, in a darkened corner of Mission Control . . . "...and so we agreed that for justice, we'd have to talk to the Operators," a helldesk geek gushes to me. "Why did you go to the Head of IT? Why didn't you talk to me first?" I whisper, sitting back in my padded leather wheely chair. "What do you want? Just tell us - anything, but do what we ask, please!" the geek burbles. "What would you have me do?" The helldesk geek looks around, spots the PFY, decides that this is best kept between us and whispers his group's request. Sigh... "That, I cannot do." "We'll do anything you ask!" he blurts. "We've worked in the same place many years, but this is the first time you've ever asked me for help. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your table at the pub for a cold lager. But let's be frank here, you never wanted my friendship, and you're afraid to be in my debt." "We... didn't want to get into trouble." "I understand. You thought this was a great job. You did nothing, knew nothing, got paid well, and paid your union fees. You didn't need a friend like me... But now you come to me and say, 'Simon, give me justice.' But you don't ask with respect, you don't offer friendship, you don't even call me 'Sir'. Instead you came to Mission Control on the day I'm falsifying my overtime and ask me to accidentally push someone down a comms riser..." "We're asking you for justice!" "That isn't justice - you'll still have a desktop machine!" "It'll be a thin client! We won't even be able to play music! "We'll pay!" he adds, after a conspiratorial pause. "Why do you treat me so disrespectfully? If you came to me in friendship, your department head and the desktop efficiency consultant would be suffering this very afternoon - at the latest. And if by chance an IT 'professional' like yourself lost their desktop machine, then they would in turn have problems with their desktop machines, and they'd think twice about trying to downgrade you." . . . "Be my friend... uh... er... Sir." Sigh... "Good. Some day, and that day may never come - but it probably will - I will call upon you to do a service for me. But until that day, accept this justice as a token of our friendship." . . . The next day . . . "Has anyone seen that consultant bloke?" the Head of IT asks. "The bloke you got in to tell you that thin clients were a good idea, even though the rest of the department, including the Head of IT, thinks they're crap?" "Uh, yes." "No, why?" "I was supposed to have a meeting with him half an hour ago. We rang his office, but they say he's been on site since this morning. We found his briefcase at reception and the only thing inside it was some rolled up newspaper with a piece of battered fish in it." "It's an operational message," the PFY murmurs. "It means he sleeps at the chippy." "You mean he's... dead?" the Boss gasps, knowing that consultants - particularly ones employed by management to back up their ludicrous schemes - are generally an endangered species. "No, it means he's gone to the chippy. We had beers over lunch and sent him for food." "You took him out for drinks?" "Oh yes. Keep your friends close, but independent consultants closer." "Well where is he now?" "No idea. Maybe he's revising his recommendations to suggest that we don't use thin clients as they're a bad long-term investment?" "He's changed his mind? He said it was a good idea! I'VE JUST ORDERED 200 UNITS! Why the hell did he change his mind?!" "We made him an offer he couldn't refuse." "You threatened him?!" "No, no. I found a dealer who could undercut the thin client price. Dirt cheap." "Well he can't change his mind now - it's too late!" "Oh, so he gave you a copy of his report?" "Verbally, yes." "Ah, not written. So to the casual upper management observer it might look like you'd committed to a purchase which would fly in the face of the recommendations of an independent consultant?" "I... ah..." "And as you're the person who recommended this hardware in the first place, it might look like there was some oversight in the purchase procedure. You've no prior relationship with the vendor in question?" "Of course not!" "Never received any gifts?" "No!" "Nothing at all?" "Well, maybe a pen or two, a couple of outings on the company boat." "Ooooooh... Conflict of Interest!" the PFY cries. "I hardly think a bloody pen and some fishing trips would be a conflict of interest!" "Oh, so you declared it to the Head of IT at the time?" "No, but..." "Ooooooh... Undisclosed conflict of interest!" the PFY chirps. "It's only a bloody PEN and a couple of social events!" "I'm sure it will come as a great consolation to the company that you sold them out for such a small amount..." "I..." the Boss burbles, before rushing out to cover his tracks and try and cancel an order. >slam<

"So ends Operation Fredo?" the PFY asks. "Uuuuuhhhmmmmm... One last fishing trip I should think..." BOFH 2003: Episode 32 Some days just nothing goes according to plan... The Boss is on the prowl for office space, and as usual we're being targetted simply because we have the appearance of consuming a reasonable amount of space. "It's not like you USE the tape safes," the Boss blurts, on the defensive. "The tapes are just sitting in piles in the computer room floor." "Those tapes currently required by the tape library, yes," I respond, "but the OTHER tapes, the long-term archives, the non-current series, are all in the tape safes." "So what's all this stuff?" he cries, pointing at row upon row of tapes sitting on shelves in the tape room. "Scratch tapes, see!" >BZZZZERT!< The PFY responds, erasing the first volume of last night's financials back-up. "We keep the scratch tapes on this shelf because it's easier to get to when we need some for a project," I explain carefully. "So how do they get in the tape safe then?" "We put them in when we take them out of the tape library," the PFY lies. "And when we put some tapes in, we take oldest series of tapes currently in the safe out, to be used in the tape series which are written after the current series is written." The Boss' vacant expression bears witness to his lack of understanding of the complexities of multiple tape series. "We keep some tapes in the safe and some out of the safe," I explain, kindly. "Otherwise we'd need a couple more safes." "Well can't we move them in here and free up the tape safe room?" "Well firstly, they'd take up half the room, secondly the floor needs to be reinforced as there are four tape safes and they weigh - with tapes - approximately three-quarters of a ton each, and lastly, they take up so much room we'd have to get them moved to allow large equipment like the PABX to be delivered into the computer suite. Oh, and they're too big to get out of the doorway." "Well how the hell did they get in here then?" "They were built into the room once the floor had been reinforced, apparently." "We could widen the doorways to get them out. AND we could put them in the basement - which wouldn't need reinforcing, has HEAPs of spare room, and would free up a room!" he gasps. "I don't think that's such a good idea - there's no access except via this room, and that would mean a secur--" "Nonsense! We could whack a door through the other side - or just rebuild this doorway after the tape safes are gone. It's perfectly secure! And with the tape safes gone we could relocate the whole helpdesk there." !!! "Ah I REALLY don't thi--" "No, my mind's made up! We'll use that room. I take it you can organise someone to move the tape safes to the basement?" Nggggggragh! Now I'm no elitist - well, actually I am, but that's beside the point - but I do NOT want to spend my life being bothered by the helldesk with every one of their inane enquiries every minute of the day. There is no way it can be allowed to happen. . . . I get into the office after lunch and find out that there's no stopping the Boss. A large gaping hole greets us from where the tape safe room door used to be, courtesy of one of the building cowboys the company use for minor alterations. I know it's them by the jagged approximation of a rectangle which has been circular sawed into the wall - halfway through the light switch on the other side of the wall. Professional! Scant minutes later, a wadge of fatblokes from the safe moving company arrive, and begin hoisting the safe onto their heavy duty creeper... ...which, once they get into Mission Control, puts it's castor wheels through the floorboards. "Not to worry!" one of the fatblokes chirps. "We'll put steel plates under it till we get it to the frieght elevator." Desperate times, desperate measures. I give the PFY some instructions, then leave to supervise the tape safe's installation - knowing only too well that it'll end up with its door facing the wall. "Bloody heavy, this," one of the fatblokes says, making polite conversation while waiting for the freight lift. "What's in it, plumbing supplies?" "No idea." "What do you mean?" "Well when I got here I found that there keys for all the tape safes but that one, so we've never used it. The only reason we've kept it is because it's too bloody difficult to move." "So it's you're lucky day then?" he burbles. "About to be, yes!" >ding<

I give the fatblokes a hand pushing as the doors open, and even - out of the goodness of my heart - grab one to help him keep his balance as the safe topples down the lift shaft >CRASH<

"BUGGER ME!" the fatbloke shouts. "Where's the bloody lift?" "Ah, here it comes now" I mention, pulling him back from the open doorway as the empty lift sails past. "Mind your head! Yes, the freight elevator's a bit of a death trap, so it's probably lucky that we weren't in it." I hear a much smaller >CRASH< from below as the remote controlled lift fails to get to B2, due to the newly installed shaft obstruction. The PFY, bless him, isn't one to be put off and continues to attempt with repeated crashes echoing up the shaft while I put up the hazard tape like a good safety conscious employee. A much nearer crash occur minutes later as the Boss rolls in looking rather red. "SKIP THE BLOODY EXCUSES!" he blurts. "I KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO SABOTAGED THE LIFT, AND I'M GETTING THE LIFT COMPANY IN TO PROVE IT! AND IF YOU THINK THAT THIS WILL DO ANYTHING BUT DELAY THE HELPDESK MOVE, YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER TH-- WAOOOOH!" >CRASH!< >BZZZZZERT<

"BUGGER ME!" the head fatbloke says as the boss trips on one of the holes in the floor and falls into the gutted lightswitch. "This place is a bloody deathtrap!" "It is if it's managed properly, yes, but that was a complete accident," I'm forced to admit. "Beautifully executed though. Any of you blokes know mouth-to-mouth." "I do!" one of the more generous fatblokes says. "Can you give it a crack once I pop the breaker?" I ask prying open the distribution board. "Sure." Some days everything just goes like clockwork.