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Search - "its my tragedy."
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My first job was actually nontechnical - I was 18 years old and sold premium office furniture for a small store in Munich.
I did code in my free time though (PHP/JS mostly, had a litte browsergame back then - those were the days), so when my boss approached me and asked me whether I liked to take over a coding project, I agreed to the idea.
Little did I know at the time: I was supposed to work with a web agency the boss had contracted to build their online shop. Only that he had no plan or anything, he basically told them "build me an online shop like abc(a major competitor of ours at the time)"
He employed another sales lady who was supposed to manage the shop (that didn't exist yet). In the end, I think 80% of her job was to keep me from killing my boss.
As you can imagine, with this huuuuge amout of planning and these exact visions of what was supposed to be, things went south fast and far. So far that I could visit my fellow flightless birds down in the Penguin's republic of Antarctica and still need to go further.
Well... When my boss started suing the web agency, I was... ahem, asked to take over. Dumb as I was, I did - I was a PHP kid and thought that Magento, being written in PHP, would be easy to master. If you know Magento, you know that was maybe the wrongest thing I ever said.
Fast forward 3 very exhausting months, the thing was online. Not all of it worked yet, but it was online and fairly secure.
I did next to everything myself, administrating the CentOS box the shop was running on, its (own) e-mail server, the web server, all the coding required for the shop (can you spell 12 hour day for 8 hour pay?)
3 further months later, my life basically was a wreck, I dragged myself to work, the only thing I looked forward being the motorcycle ride home. The system worked though.
Mind you, I was still, at the time, working with three major customers, doing deskside support and some admin (Win Server 2008R2 at the time) - because, to quote my boss, "We could not afford a full time developer and we don't need one".
I think i stopped coding in my free time, the one hobby I used to love more than anything on the world, somewhere Decemerish 2012. I dropped out of the open source projects I was in, quit working on my browser game and let everything slide.
I didn't even care to renew the domains and servers for it, I just let it die without notice.
The little free time I had, I spent playing video games and getting drunk/high.
December 2013, 1.5 years on the job, I reached my breaking point and just left, called in sick at least a week per month because I just could not see this fucking place anymore.
I looked for another job outside of ALL of what I did before. No more Magento, no more sales, no more PHP. I didn't have to look for long, despite what I thought of my skills.
In February 2014, I told my boss that I quit. It was still seven months until my new job started, but I wanted him to know early so we could migrate and find a replacement.
The search for said replacement started in June 2014. I had considerably less work in the months before, looks like he got the hint.
In August 2014, my replacement arrived and I got him started.
I found a job, which I am still in, and still happy about after almost half a decade, at a local, medium sized ISP as a software dev and IT security guy. Got a proper training with a certificate and everything now.
My replacement lasted two months, he was external and never really did his job - the site, which until I had quit, had a total of 3 days downtime for 3 YEARS (they were the hoster's fault, not mine), was down for an entire month and he could not even tell why.
HIS followup was kicked after taking two weeks to familiarize himself with the project. Well, I think that two weeks is not even barely enough to familiarize yourself with nearly three years of work, but my boss gave him two days.
In 2016, the shop was replaced with another one. Different shop system, different OS, different CI. I don't know why and I can't say I give a damn.
Almost all the people that worked at the company back with me have left for greener pastures, taking their customers (and revenue) with them.
As for my boss' comments, instructions and lines: THAT might not be safe for work. Or kids. Or humans in general. And there wouldn't be much left if you put it through a language filter...
Moral of the story: No, it's not a bad thing to leave a place if you're mistreated there. Don't mistake loyalty with stupidity!
And, to quote one of my favourite Bands: "Nothing matters when the pain is all but gone" (Tragedy + Time by Rise Against).8 -
*looks for some reviews of a dentist*
Yelp: ah yes we have that.
*Enters Yelp site*
"Oh noes, you have JavaScript disabled! You should enable it because it can make websites really cool (why does this seem like a front-end wank), gives you compliments when you had a bad day (fuck you Yelp), can save the world from tragedy on its own (does savetheworld.js exist yet?). But that you'll never realize anymore. Because YOU disabled JavaScript, filthy piece of shit you are. So enable JavaScript so that we can have so much more fun!"
Ah, not providing any content that I visited your shitty site for, guilt-tripping me into enabling JavaScript for your dribble, and on top of that saying that we'll have fun when I whitelist you. Fun ey.. you know what'd be fun Yelp? For me to go there and shove my dick into every one of your front-end and marketing cunts' faces until they turn blue. Now THAT would be a lot of fun!!!2 -
Warning: pretty sad thoughts. If you're having a blast of a day, please skip. It's for your own good.
That feeling when you finish watching a piece of art. Be it a film or anime or anything. You're confused why you feel good, but at the same time you're hurt. You smile but the pain is still there when you reflect on the feelings and the experiences you had and you realise that none of it will ever happen again. No art or any of the past will happen again exactly the same way how you felt and experienced.
You think of the best friend you once had. Think of the girl you held hands with and time stopped. The first time you embraced her and knew you loved her more than anything, even if she didn't know your feelings. Think of your first kiss. Your first serious relationship. The last time you saw your parents, your wife, your children, family.
Now look at the perspective of the future and the past you: blissfully ignoring the certain end to all experiences until they all abruptly end reminding you of this and it hurts. Damn it hurts.
I will never be able to see me best friend again, nor will I ever be able to hold hands with her either. First time I kissed is now long gone. It's almost like you wish you were aware of how valuable and important the experience was and to not just throw it away like the last time and the several times before that. But the sad part is, you don't know which experience will make you realise how much you missed it.
But even if you do realise by placing yourself in the place of your future self, and you cherish the experience, you blame yourself because you could have either avoided it's end or did something better.
Like your break up: could it be fixed? Was it worth the little time you have on this plante?
Like your friends argument you had: could you have done better? Could you have stopped it?
Like your parent's death: could you have been a better son to your now overworked dying mum? Could you see how hard they tried even though you thought they were total dicks?
Now you realise that literally anything you do, you will have a problem with somewhere down the line. You're destined to be sad shattered and broken by every day that is tragedy.
But it's similar to art. After all, your life is a piece of art about how you died. Which is why you smile and enjoy the last second of the experience which you just had. That chest warming feeling will only last a little. You smile through pain, yet you realise its not the end.
Then again, its just my thoughts that i need to vent. Take it with a pinch of salt.8 -
HOW TO RECOVER LOST OR STOLEN CRYPTOCURRENCY; BITCOIN RECOVERY EXPERT HIRE CYBER CONSTABLE INTELLIGENCE
Thanks, Cyber Constable intelligence, I am absolutely flabbergasted! There are times in life that test our notion of what can be, and my experience just recently serves as a testimony to the strength of human ingenuity. When a strong hurricane destroyed and devastated my home, not only was my material abode destroyed, but I lost my Bitcoin wallet as well, which had a whopping $1.2 million, a sum that represented years of effort, prudence, and planning towards a brighter tomorrow.
Within the initial few minutes of the tragedy, amidst confusion and ghastly loss, I was entirely abandoned and helpless, with every hope appearing to be submerged by the cyclone. But within that depths of darkness, I remembered that adversity has always been the mother of invention. That was when I visited Cyber Constable Intelligence, a firm whose passion for excellence and commitment to what they do impressed me in no uncertain terms. They told me that technology is not an object—it is a doorway to our aspirations.
The strategy of the team was nothing short of revolutionary. With a blend of empathy and unparalleled technical expertise, they assessed my case with precision and clarity in no time. Every bit of information they provided me was communicated with the simplicity and beauty of a well-designed product, instilling in me a renewed sense of confidence. Their efforts were not just about recovering funds; it was about rekindling the spark of hope and allowing me to move forward.
Cyber Constable Intelligence worked tirelessly, with the latest technology and scrupulous attention to detail characteristic of the finest visionaries. They worked their miracle and transformed what seemed to be an insurmountable obstacle into a sensational comeback. In a stunningly short time, they recovered my wallet, with it, my hopes and peace of mind I had worked diligently to build for years.
In that instant of defining victory, when I gazed at my $1.2 million comeback on my screen, I knew that innovation in its finest hour conquers tragedy. It restores not just what was lost but our hope for tomorrow too. I extend my deepest gratitude to Cyber Constable Intelligence for their incredible service—a service that testifies to the invincible spirit of innovation and that reminds us no matter what nature brings forth, hope and creativity will never perish. Moment of this journey made me realize that when human spirit and technology come together, nothing is impossible.
Here's Their Info Below
WhatsApp: 1 (252) 378-7611
mail: cyberconstable @ coolsite net
Website info; www cyberconstableintelligence com1 -
DIGITAL TECH GUARD RECOVERY / FASTEST CRYPTOCURRENCY RECOVERY EXPERT
WhatsApp: +1 (443) 859 - 2886
Email @ digital tech guard . com
Telegram: digital tech guard . com
Website link: digital tech guard . com
The scent of freshly brewed espresso and vintage Led Zeppelin records should have been my retirement anthem. But I was hunched over a computer in my still-under-construction vinyl record cafe, screaming at a blockchain explorer as if it just ridiculed my acoustic session. My life savings, $430,000 worth of Bitcoin, carefully earned over a decade of writing alt-rock ballads for car commercials, vanished into thin air. The culprit? Some smooth "investment manager" who'd promised me "Taylor Swift-level returns" on crypto staking, then bailed faster than my band's 2008 reunion tour. The scam was a cringe symphony. Guy had a LinkedIn profile dotted with adjectives such as "Web3 maestro" and "DeFi virtuoso," an autotuned elevator jazz playing website, and a contractual loophole big enough to drive a tour bus through. I signed over access like a groupie handing over backstage passes. Poof. Gone. Money. My café's espresso machine sat in its box, accusatorially. My spouse said I needed to "get a real job again." Even my dog gave me the side eye. Enter my drummer, Chad, a guy who had escaped a festival pyro tragedy by jumping into a kiddie pool. He texted me: "Bro, look at Digital Tech Guard Recovery. They're crypto Roadies." I pictured a group of pierced hackers in black hoodies, blowing gum and cracking firewalls. Good enough.
Digitals crew followed the scambot's trail with the ferocity of a producer hunting for the perfect bassline.
The crook had routed my Bitcoin through privacy coins, obscured wallets, and exchanges located in countries that I couldn't spell. Their engineers stalked his path like a creep watching a pop star's concert tour schedule, in cooperation with Interpol and a Cypriot bank used also as a hub for meme stocks. As it turns out, my "maestro" had become careless, stashing money in a wallet associated with a failed NFT venture named "Aping for Jesus." Typical. Sixteen days later, my wallet beeped. Balance returned. No taunting, only a curt email: "Scammer's assets frozen. Your money's back. Buy better speakers." I blasted "Eye of the Tiger" through the café sound system, shocking a hipster with oat milk. The espresso machine finally came online. Digital Tech Guard Recovery didn't just restore my cryptocurrency; they wrote the encore for my midlife crisis. My café exists today, littered with grail-worthy records on the walls and a tip cup emblazoned "ETH accepted." Chad's no longer on the espresso machine, but he's got free coffee for life.
If your cryptocurrency is ever swindled by a cyber rockstar, don't go into existential tailspin. Call the Digitals. They'll turn your faceplant into a victory lap. Just maybe screen your "maestros" harder than your band's setlist.1
