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As soon as I figure out how to restore it. Sorry, I know I said it'd be done by now, but I didn't expect to have to put up with this DNS crap and other issues that popped up.
Or it might be because Bluehost *finally* got around to that server wipe (one week after we'd asked for it) and that wiped out our DNS settings. I'm not sure which and I don't really care. In any case, we've severed our last ties with Bluehost, so this will not happen again.
No kiddin' about that "Finally!", Shadow. I am *so mad* at Bluehost for never responding to our support ticket. I submitted it early Friday morning and they *still* haven't answered it!
I laughed when the narrator said. "If there's a storm blowing through, there's no quick way down." Oh yes, there is. I've been thinking it ever since this video started. How much of it can you watch? @_@
God, I have the worst possible luck when it comes to finding work. I've been unemployed for over four years due to a string of mishaps and bad arrangements. Either I'm in Belgium and I don't speak Dutch, or I'm in Ireland and there's no work in the countryside. But anyway, I moved to London to fund work and I finally managed to snag a job at an upmarket restaurant. I was hired by a recruitment agency and was told I'd start off on a trial period before becoming permanent. The first day on Saturday went fine. Everything rolled smoothly and I picked things up quickly, always appearing proactive and polite. Sunday started pretty much the same, but about halfway through I had one of my trademark unfortunate mishaps. The counter was out of scones, so I decided to get some more from the patisserie in the kitchen. Because the plate was burning hot from being under a heating lamp all day and I had no oven gloves, I soaked a cloth in cold water and used that to pick up the plate. On the return trip, the plate was so hot that it ended up burning my hand through the cloth. Since I was in a corridor and there was no table nearby, I had no choice but to put the plate down on the floor if I didn't want to injure myself. And would you believe that both of my bosses were standing right in front of me when it happened!
I apologised profusely for the accident and they told me to ask around for oven gloves to dispose of the couple of scones that had fallen off the plate in the process. Back at the counter, this asshole colleague refused to tell me where the oven gloves were and insisted that I ask the chef to bring out the scones. Even though I didn't want to get more people involved in this, I told him about the plate and he said he'd bring it out himself. Because he didn't know which scones had fallen off, he ended up serving the whole batch to the customers.
Today, when I spoke with the recruitment agency, they said I wasn't going to be working there any more because I was rude (What?! Where did they get that from?) and I had served dirty scones to customers. Furious, I called up the manager to explain that I never served those scones. True I admit I was forced to put the plate down and I tried to clean up that mistake, but it was the asshole colleague who wouldn't tell me where the oven gloves were and served the scones himself. Naturally, the guy would never admit to serving those scones if only to cover his ass, and the manager was obtuse beyond belief over the situation. "Sorry, I can't help you any more" was his catchphrase. So thanks to that stupid accident, a shithead colleague and a narrowminded git of a manager, I'm back looking for work after thinking I've found relief for two days. I hate my life.
As mortifying as this story may be, I can't help but think of the Simpsons episode where carnie folk steal the Simpsons' home and laugh at them through the mail flap. That's probably what happened here.