N.O.B.
- Thread starter Mashburned
- Start date
My shit day at work started last night with the following email:
We have received your request for access to the Monthly ***** Report. Given the circumstances of your recent transition from X-dept. to Y-dept., we will need to review this request with the Data Governance Steering Committee on Friday. In preparation for this meeting, could you give me the business use case, how the report was applicable in your previous position and how it is applicable in your current position? Due to HIPAA regulations we have not historically allowed **** accounts to access patient data.
We have received your request for access to the Monthly ***** Report. Given the circumstances of your recent transition from X-dept. to Y-dept., we will need to review this request with the Data Governance Steering Committee on Friday. In preparation for this meeting, could you give me the business use case, how the report was applicable in your previous position and how it is applicable in your current position? Due to HIPAA regulations we have not historically allowed **** accounts to access patient data.
- I have to review this information because it is required by regulation.
- I requested that the IT department create this report 10 years ago to avoid paper records for thousands of patients.
- My recent transition from X-dept. to Y-dept was an administrative change only (had to do with how funding of the position is handled on the books). It happened in 2013 (6 years ago).
- The only recent change was the IT department's decision to cutoff my access to the information without notice.
Do not proceed! That's a trap if I ever saw one! Lose that email! Godspeed, 93.
There's only two types of things on the Data Governance Steering Comittee: steers and queers. And I don't see any horns on the members of that committee.
Maybe this thread ain't quite dead yet. Maybe it was just temporarily in a self-induced coma and on life support.
My shit day at work started last night as well -- I struck out TWICE in a game of slowly-pitched softball.
BACK STORY: Like any enormously high-powered performance car, my body is finely tuned, and when the least little thing gets out of kilter, well, problems arise. Hence, in my first at-bat the MFCSing idiot umpire calls the first pitch of the evening a strike when it was CLEARLY a ball. CLEARLY. Now in the UDPPRMSPSL (that's 'Upper Division of the Paducah Parks and Recreation Men's Slowly Pitched Softball League' for all you lurking rubes) we start off with a 1-1 count to speed up the games. This means, of course, the blind, ignorant cocksucker has immediately got me behind in the count. Well the next pitch is even worse, but, fearing he's gonna ring me up, I swing and smash a wicked ground ball ball to the second baseman (instead of my customary 350+ foot blast over the right-center field fence). Now being the all-or-nothing, balls-to-the-wall, always-give-110%, do-it-or-die-trying, team player that I am I break out into a full sprint to beat it out, which I did, of course, but two steps before the bag...BAM!!! disaster strikes -- I blew out my right hamstring.
Well another ignorant f#cking rule the UDPPRMSPSL employs is that once you start a game you can't leave said game without your place in the lineup taking an out -- even if you have torn a finely-tuned hamstring to shreds. So, once again, being the aforementioned all-or-nothing, balls-to-the-wall, always-give-110%, do-it-or-die-trying, team player that I am, I do my best Kirk Gibson and hobble to the plate to, as it turns out, vainly try to draw a walk. Of course the pitcher lobs four perfect lowly arcing, cock-high softballs right down the pipe and all I can do is watch 'em (I couldn't even lightly swing without excruciating pain) drift by as the MFCSing umpire rings me up.
Thanks a lot, you MFCSing blind, ignorant dickhead.
BACK STORY: Like any enormously high-powered performance car, my body is finely tuned, and when the least little thing gets out of kilter, well, problems arise. Hence, in my first at-bat the MFCSing idiot umpire calls the first pitch of the evening a strike when it was CLEARLY a ball. CLEARLY. Now in the UDPPRMSPSL (that's 'Upper Division of the Paducah Parks and Recreation Men's Slowly Pitched Softball League' for all you lurking rubes) we start off with a 1-1 count to speed up the games. This means, of course, the blind, ignorant cocksucker has immediately got me behind in the count. Well the next pitch is even worse, but, fearing he's gonna ring me up, I swing and smash a wicked ground ball ball to the second baseman (instead of my customary 350+ foot blast over the right-center field fence). Now being the all-or-nothing, balls-to-the-wall, always-give-110%, do-it-or-die-trying, team player that I am I break out into a full sprint to beat it out, which I did, of course, but two steps before the bag...BAM!!! disaster strikes -- I blew out my right hamstring.
Well another ignorant f#cking rule the UDPPRMSPSL employs is that once you start a game you can't leave said game without your place in the lineup taking an out -- even if you have torn a finely-tuned hamstring to shreds. So, once again, being the aforementioned all-or-nothing, balls-to-the-wall, always-give-110%, do-it-or-die-trying, team player that I am, I do my best Kirk Gibson and hobble to the plate to, as it turns out, vainly try to draw a walk. Of course the pitcher lobs four perfect lowly arcing, cock-high softballs right down the pipe and all I can do is watch 'em (I couldn't even lightly swing without excruciating pain) drift by as the MFCSing umpire rings me up.
Thanks a lot, you MFCSing blind, ignorant dickhead.
![[laughing]](http://l.yimg.com/j/assets/img/emoticons/classic/laugh.r191677.gif "Laughing [laughing]")
@ UDPPRMSPSL. A lot of funny stuff (mav getting hurt not being even remotely funny though) in that post but that made me laugh the most.
Get well, mav!
Thanks for the well-wishes fellas. Yeah, I'm afraid I've done torn this up pretty good. Slight ray of hope is I've self-diagnosed the tear being in the muscle belly rather than either the proximal or distal tendon, and that it's a Grade 2 tear, which apparently that has a better, quicker prognosis.
I'd still like to beat the hell out of that ump.
I'd still like to beat the hell out of that ump.
Side note: There's zero doubt I would have been jailed had I been a high-profile coach at either the professional or D-1 level. Earl Weaver, Woody Hayes, and Bobby effing Knight don't got shit on me.
Whatever....blah, blah, blah...excuses excuses. You still gotta bring 2 cases of beer to next weeks game!
Only rule that matters....you strike out, you bring a case of beer.
Wonder how many poles have been smoked by this blonde chick always interviewing players over ------------------------------------------------>
I hope it's a lot of poles. I hope she is addicted to pole smoking.
Mash, local sports radio is back to playing the Blue Bell spot all summer long. Every time I hear it, I think of you cradling a carton with misty eyes and a caring smile, rocking it back and forth all the live long day.
A LIFETIME OF GOOD TIMES SHARED ALONG THE WAYYY, HAVE YOURSELF A BLUE BELL COUNTRY DAY.
Dude, it makes my day every time I hear it. Soothes the soul.
They've been advertising this new "cookie cake" flavor which sounds awesome.
Dude, it makes my day every time I hear it. Soothes the soul.
They've been advertising this new "cookie cake" flavor which sounds awesome.
WTF is a 'cookie cake'? They're two separate things and ne'er the twain shall meet. In the words of Ayn Rand, "A is A. B is B. A cannot be B."
Decommitted and UK got Oats. Now UK has both. Some boner jamz going on.
There are people that really, really enjoyed that somehow. I'd have a constant migraine if I had to sing that horrid shit for loads of cash tossed at me from imbeciles, let alone listening to it voluntarily (like I just did
) beyond that. The human body is amazing for what it can endure at times.
So tonight I am walking my giant 116lb stupid (#58) dog... on the last few blocks from my house she sees a rabbit that I didn’t.
She effin bolts and quite literally launches my fat ass forward 15’, parallel to the ground Superman-style. I landed chest first in mud in my work clothes.
My goddamn back is spasming.
She effin bolts and quite literally launches my fat ass forward 15’, parallel to the ground Superman-style. I landed chest first in mud in my work clothes.
My goddamn back is spasming.
Soooo...does AD stay in the Bayou now that Zion is coming to town and they hired a new master Jedi type GM?
If not, where do you think he lands???
If not, where do you think he lands???
This came up on Twitter* -- anybody know a good source for fetal stem cells? Asking for a friend (my BEST friend, actually). As always, TIA.
*h/t kook
*h/t kook
Virginia and NY Planned Parenthood dumpsters.
On his feet...Kentucky Effect.
I've heard Lakers still. Lakers send a few players (including Ingram, possibly Kuzma) along w/the 4th pick for AD. justwhatIheard
I'd give it one, but my hamstring is still really sore.
Rest. Relaxation.
After knocking my dick in the dirt.
About to get effing hammered.
After knocking my dick in the dirt.
About to get effing hammered.
Some horse bucked his jockey off at the gate and just had a ball cruising around the track. F you, human.
He’s still running! F you guys, I am horse!
He’s still running! F you guys, I am horse!
The first ice cold beer I poured down my throat, behind the fence -I heard the redneck neighbor unpacking ANOTHER MUTHAFÜCKING POOL.
I. SHIT. YOU. NOT.
You need to go ahead and move to Kentucky, Kooky. We don't allow neighbors to install shitty pools down here. OK. Well, maybe they allow it in Paducah...but Paducah is the exception...they don't even operate on the correct time.
His insurance begrudgingly did as it took 6 months to settle and basically rendered our summer useless.
You know what pisses me off? Cocksuckers who leave a car length behind the car ahead of them in line, that’s who. Tighten up your shit, rubes, we've got nuggets to order too.
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