How do I tell the boss....
Discussion
Distant said:
You can set it to turn on and off at a pre set time every day. Sorted
Excellent rant, though I agree, it needs more
fk
Exactly, you just set it so that the BBy service comes on at say 7am, (so that you can filter the crap in your inbox whilst you have a crap ... ) Excellent rant, though I agree, it needs more
fkAnd have it to turn off at say ... 8:30 because you will be off work time and in the pub, and wouldn't want a few drinks to cloud your judgement in responding to an email.
Alfa_75_Steve said:
You soon get used to having one, and feel lost when yours is taken away.... I know I do, since I changed to a job where they've decided on 3G laptops rather than Blackberries.
I was the last person I know to get a mobile phone. Whilst someone else was paying the bill I embraced the technology. Now I pay my own bill I don't use it much.The OP can email all his mates whilst he's having a bacon butty and relaxing whilst emailing his boss to say he's stuck in traffic.
Puggit said:
I was always firmly anti-BB, but now I'll not be without it. I ignore emails out of hours, but I do use the GPS/Googlemaps for personal reasons, I use MSN Messenger on it, and I send my personal emails to it when abroad.
Abuse it to your advantage!
Never answer any work email after 5pm, never pick up the phone to your boss after 5pm. Listen to his message, work out the answer and email the response hours later. Email your boss when you know his going to be at a family party, and see how sad he is.Abuse it to your advantage!
Wedg1e said:
... to shove his Blackberry?
I got into work this morning and was told to hand over my trusty old Nokia (no, not the 'brick' that was the subject of one of my posts a few years back) because I was to be 'Blackberried'.
I did try asking why and was advised that it was so that I could keep in touch by all means at all times
Now you could probably understand that some captain of industry might conceivably need to have his finger on the pulse of business, but one of those I am certainly not. I'm a techie. I fix things. Sometimes I design things, I even build things (like the thing I just knocked up for the Royal Navy, but I can't tell you about as it's Top Sec... oh, damn) but mostly I fix things.
I get paid a certain sum for a certain working week, and it doesn't bloody well include sitting in a hotel answering emails. FFS I don't even get my own emails when I'm away; why should I get works ones?
So our service manager comes out with 'image'. What feckin image?! I'm a bloody techie! Most of our clients couldn't give two sh!ts if I turned up ballcock naked as long as when I leave, their equipment is working.
I'm a tubby, grey-haired, middle-aged git with specs and a surly attitude. But so are most of the staff who work for most of our customers! Why the fudgenuts do I need to be any different? FFS they'll have me wearing company overalls and handing out business cards next.
All this aside, I'm a techno-buffoon. I remember my mate telling me about this new means of communication called 'email' and me asking what the point was. It'll never catch on, I remember saying. So here I am with a Blackberry, all feckin icons and bloody 'choons'. It's a p155ing kid's toy. It's electronic jewellery. It's this week's fad for the attention-deficit masses. It has a keyboard that Herve Villechaise would have struggled to use. A paedophile, that's who designed this thing. Gary furgling Glitter. I have techie's hands for christ's sake, I cover 3/4 of the bloody keypad with my little finger. What chance do I have of sending a meaningful text or email when every touch produces pl2Fk&EE>...? I'll be quoting customers $270000 for a 15w lightbulb, or £11.50 for a new factory.
It reminds me of when I first saw Windows XP. It's all cuddly and safe, nice little boxes of help popping up everywhere and pictures of clouds and grass. P155 off! I want black icons on a black background. I want text that I can read without an electron microscope. I want a keyboard I can stab at with huge stumpy fingers and manage to tell 'er indoors that I'll be home in ten, whilst holding the phone in my pocket. I want... I want my old phone back. It was a techie's phone: businesslike, clunky, simple. Sure, it didn't play a whank-tastic trumpet fanfare when a text arrived. I couldn't take high resolution photos of my c0ck in the hotel shower. But I could feckin well read the screen. I could find and dial a number in two seconds. I could text 'Ok' in respone to whatever earth-shattering emergency had befallen Rolls-Royce or Lufthansa. I didn't have to do some kind of Vulcan death-grip to get the keyboard to unlock. I could put it in my arse pocket and not find it had dialled Sydney, Australia or texted 'Slut' to 87633. I could leave it lying around and be fairly sure it'd still be there when I came back. I can almost hear the chav burglars scratching at the windows: they can sniff the bling, I know it. It's 'moving with the times', quoth the boss. No it's not, it's you trying to get me to do more work, in my own time, for no more money. Next you'll be 'touching base' with me, running things up the blue-sky flagpole and getting our ducks in a row. Well he can poke it. Emails can wait till the next working day. Texts will get the same curt answers I've always given. And the sooner I can find a way to lose/break/sell it on Ebay, the sooner my blood pressure will get back to normal.
Blackberry? Shove it up your ar53.
Sent from my Blackberry
I got into work this morning and was told to hand over my trusty old Nokia (no, not the 'brick' that was the subject of one of my posts a few years back) because I was to be 'Blackberried'.
I did try asking why and was advised that it was so that I could keep in touch by all means at all times
Now you could probably understand that some captain of industry might conceivably need to have his finger on the pulse of business, but one of those I am certainly not. I'm a techie. I fix things. Sometimes I design things, I even build things (like the thing I just knocked up for the Royal Navy, but I can't tell you about as it's Top Sec... oh, damn) but mostly I fix things.
I get paid a certain sum for a certain working week, and it doesn't bloody well include sitting in a hotel answering emails. FFS I don't even get my own emails when I'm away; why should I get works ones?
So our service manager comes out with 'image'. What feckin image?! I'm a bloody techie! Most of our clients couldn't give two sh!ts if I turned up ballcock naked as long as when I leave, their equipment is working.
I'm a tubby, grey-haired, middle-aged git with specs and a surly attitude. But so are most of the staff who work for most of our customers! Why the fudgenuts do I need to be any different? FFS they'll have me wearing company overalls and handing out business cards next.
All this aside, I'm a techno-buffoon. I remember my mate telling me about this new means of communication called 'email' and me asking what the point was. It'll never catch on, I remember saying. So here I am with a Blackberry, all feckin icons and bloody 'choons'. It's a p155ing kid's toy. It's electronic jewellery. It's this week's fad for the attention-deficit masses. It has a keyboard that Herve Villechaise would have struggled to use. A paedophile, that's who designed this thing. Gary furgling Glitter. I have techie's hands for christ's sake, I cover 3/4 of the bloody keypad with my little finger. What chance do I have of sending a meaningful text or email when every touch produces pl2Fk&EE>...? I'll be quoting customers $270000 for a 15w lightbulb, or £11.50 for a new factory.
It reminds me of when I first saw Windows XP. It's all cuddly and safe, nice little boxes of help popping up everywhere and pictures of clouds and grass. P155 off! I want black icons on a black background. I want text that I can read without an electron microscope. I want a keyboard I can stab at with huge stumpy fingers and manage to tell 'er indoors that I'll be home in ten, whilst holding the phone in my pocket. I want... I want my old phone back. It was a techie's phone: businesslike, clunky, simple. Sure, it didn't play a whank-tastic trumpet fanfare when a text arrived. I couldn't take high resolution photos of my c0ck in the hotel shower. But I could feckin well read the screen. I could find and dial a number in two seconds. I could text 'Ok' in respone to whatever earth-shattering emergency had befallen Rolls-Royce or Lufthansa. I didn't have to do some kind of Vulcan death-grip to get the keyboard to unlock. I could put it in my arse pocket and not find it had dialled Sydney, Australia or texted 'Slut' to 87633. I could leave it lying around and be fairly sure it'd still be there when I came back. I can almost hear the chav burglars scratching at the windows: they can sniff the bling, I know it. It's 'moving with the times', quoth the boss. No it's not, it's you trying to get me to do more work, in my own time, for no more money. Next you'll be 'touching base' with me, running things up the blue-sky flagpole and getting our ducks in a row. Well he can poke it. Emails can wait till the next working day. Texts will get the same curt answers I've always given. And the sooner I can find a way to lose/break/sell it on Ebay, the sooner my blood pressure will get back to normal.
Blackberry? Shove it up your ar53.
Sent from my Blackberry
Top Rantage Wedgie!
Agreed 100%. I want a poxy phone to, wait for it, make phone calls. I have a camera and I have a PC at home and work. I cant be arsed watching cocks with OMD [ Obsessive mobile disorder] fiddling all day long....And why oh why when I get an email from one of those berry things does it have to say ' Sent from my Blackberry? ' Your point is? Oh so you've managed to send it from your mobile phone thats three times the size of mine ...well done.
I strongly objected to handing in my beloved Nokia 6310i and being given a Palm Treo Pro - particularly as the 6310 fits in a cradle built into the car and that doesn't support the Treo, even via bluetooth.
The Treo has email scheduling and it's set to only get emails from 7AM to 7PM. It is handy for being able to look at email while I'm out and about, but anything which needed a reply of more than "OK" gets left until I'm back in the office.
The Treo has email scheduling and it's set to only get emails from 7AM to 7PM. It is handy for being able to look at email while I'm out and about, but anything which needed a reply of more than "OK" gets left until I'm back in the office.
Tunku said:
I feckin hate Blackberry users, they are worse than crack addicts.
Profuse users are referred to as crackberries in the office. Vile things only made necessary by e-addicts who seemto think the world runs on email. A circular world where replying, forwarding and cc'ing devoids you of responsibility and in real world terms, adds eons to tasks being completed.To the original poster: great rant and one which should be posted to all middle managers with a crackberry addiction.
Wedg1e said:
... to shove his Blackberry?
I got into work this morning and was told to hand over my trusty old Nokia (no, not the 'brick' that was the subject of one of my posts a few years back) because I was to be 'Blackberried'.
I did try asking why and was advised that it was so that I could keep in touch by all means at all times
Now you could probably understand that some captain of industry might conceivably need to have his finger on the pulse of business, but one of those I am certainly not. I'm a techie. I fix things. Sometimes I design things, I even build things (like the thing I just knocked up for the Royal Navy, but I can't tell you about as it's Top Sec... oh, damn) but mostly I fix things.
I get paid a certain sum for a certain working week, and it doesn't bloody well include sitting in a hotel answering emails. FFS I don't even get my own emails when I'm away; why should I get works ones?
So our service manager comes out with 'image'. What feckin image?! I'm a bloody techie! Most of our clients couldn't give two sh!ts if I turned up ballcock naked as long as when I leave, their equipment is working.
I'm a tubby, grey-haired, middle-aged git with specs and a surly attitude. But so are most of the staff who work for most of our customers! Why the fudgenuts do I need to be any different? FFS they'll have me wearing company overalls and handing out business cards next.
All this aside, I'm a techno-buffoon. I remember my mate telling me about this new means of communication called 'email' and me asking what the point was. It'll never catch on, I remember saying. So here I am with a Blackberry, all feckin icons and bloody 'choons'. It's a p155ing kid's toy. It's electronic jewellery. It's this week's fad for the attention-deficit masses. It has a keyboard that Herve Villechaise would have struggled to use. A paedophile, that's who designed this thing. Gary furgling Glitter. I have techie's hands for christ's sake, I cover 3/4 of the bloody keypad with my little finger. What chance do I have of sending a meaningful text or email when every touch produces pl2Fk&EE>...? I'll be quoting customers $270000 for a 15w lightbulb, or £11.50 for a new factory.
It reminds me of when I first saw Windows XP. It's all cuddly and safe, nice little boxes of help popping up everywhere and pictures of clouds and grass. P155 off! I want black icons on a black background. I want text that I can read without an electron microscope. I want a keyboard I can stab at with huge stumpy fingers and manage to tell 'er indoors that I'll be home in ten, whilst holding the phone in my pocket. I want... I want my old phone back. It was a techie's phone: businesslike, clunky, simple. Sure, it didn't play a whank-tastic trumpet fanfare when a text arrived. I couldn't take high resolution photos of my c0ck in the hotel shower. But I could feckin well read the screen. I could find and dial a number in two seconds. I could text 'Ok' in respone to whatever earth-shattering emergency had befallen Rolls-Royce or Lufthansa. I didn't have to do some kind of Vulcan death-grip to get the keyboard to unlock. I could put it in my arse pocket and not find it had dialled Sydney, Australia or texted 'Slut' to 87633. I could leave it lying around and be fairly sure it'd still be there when I came back. I can almost hear the chav burglars scratching at the windows: they can sniff the bling, I know it. It's 'moving with the times', quoth the boss. No it's not, it's you trying to get me to do more work, in my own time, for no more money. Next you'll be 'touching base' with me, running things up the blue-sky flagpole and getting our ducks in a row. Well he can poke it. Emails can wait till the next working day. Texts will get the same curt answers I've always given. And the sooner I can find a way to lose/break/sell it on Ebay, the sooner my blood pressure will get back to normal.
Blackberry? Shove it up your ar53.
Wow, you sound like a real asset.I got into work this morning and was told to hand over my trusty old Nokia (no, not the 'brick' that was the subject of one of my posts a few years back) because I was to be 'Blackberried'.
I did try asking why and was advised that it was so that I could keep in touch by all means at all times
Now you could probably understand that some captain of industry might conceivably need to have his finger on the pulse of business, but one of those I am certainly not. I'm a techie. I fix things. Sometimes I design things, I even build things (like the thing I just knocked up for the Royal Navy, but I can't tell you about as it's Top Sec... oh, damn) but mostly I fix things.
I get paid a certain sum for a certain working week, and it doesn't bloody well include sitting in a hotel answering emails. FFS I don't even get my own emails when I'm away; why should I get works ones?
So our service manager comes out with 'image'. What feckin image?! I'm a bloody techie! Most of our clients couldn't give two sh!ts if I turned up ballcock naked as long as when I leave, their equipment is working.
I'm a tubby, grey-haired, middle-aged git with specs and a surly attitude. But so are most of the staff who work for most of our customers! Why the fudgenuts do I need to be any different? FFS they'll have me wearing company overalls and handing out business cards next.
All this aside, I'm a techno-buffoon. I remember my mate telling me about this new means of communication called 'email' and me asking what the point was. It'll never catch on, I remember saying. So here I am with a Blackberry, all feckin icons and bloody 'choons'. It's a p155ing kid's toy. It's electronic jewellery. It's this week's fad for the attention-deficit masses. It has a keyboard that Herve Villechaise would have struggled to use. A paedophile, that's who designed this thing. Gary furgling Glitter. I have techie's hands for christ's sake, I cover 3/4 of the bloody keypad with my little finger. What chance do I have of sending a meaningful text or email when every touch produces pl2Fk&EE>...? I'll be quoting customers $270000 for a 15w lightbulb, or £11.50 for a new factory.
It reminds me of when I first saw Windows XP. It's all cuddly and safe, nice little boxes of help popping up everywhere and pictures of clouds and grass. P155 off! I want black icons on a black background. I want text that I can read without an electron microscope. I want a keyboard I can stab at with huge stumpy fingers and manage to tell 'er indoors that I'll be home in ten, whilst holding the phone in my pocket. I want... I want my old phone back. It was a techie's phone: businesslike, clunky, simple. Sure, it didn't play a whank-tastic trumpet fanfare when a text arrived. I couldn't take high resolution photos of my c0ck in the hotel shower. But I could feckin well read the screen. I could find and dial a number in two seconds. I could text 'Ok' in respone to whatever earth-shattering emergency had befallen Rolls-Royce or Lufthansa. I didn't have to do some kind of Vulcan death-grip to get the keyboard to unlock. I could put it in my arse pocket and not find it had dialled Sydney, Australia or texted 'Slut' to 87633. I could leave it lying around and be fairly sure it'd still be there when I came back. I can almost hear the chav burglars scratching at the windows: they can sniff the bling, I know it. It's 'moving with the times', quoth the boss. No it's not, it's you trying to get me to do more work, in my own time, for no more money. Next you'll be 'touching base' with me, running things up the blue-sky flagpole and getting our ducks in a row. Well he can poke it. Emails can wait till the next working day. Texts will get the same curt answers I've always given. And the sooner I can find a way to lose/break/sell it on Ebay, the sooner my blood pressure will get back to normal.
Blackberry? Shove it up your ar53.
Use your blackberry during work hours, turn it off in your own time and use your own phone... not rocket science.
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