It had been one of those semesters. The BUFH ran into the BPFH (Bastard Professor From Hell). And he was in the computer science department at that. This guy was every student's WORST nightmare.
He was so good he even has a quadruple encypher on his academic records that changed everytime he used it. This is besides the password from the lower neither regions of the world.
He also had to tracking software to record who did what to his account. Funny, students in his class dropped like flies.
Not me! I wonder why?
Every now and then you have to admit that someone is better than you are...... BUT NOT FOR LONG BPFH.
I came home (freshly furished with VISA cards that always showed a zero balance and six digit line of credit).
Being the Bastard User From Hell means always having a zero balance on your credit cards.
The tax forms for the year showed up. Oh joy.
Well something more to work on. Hey, didn't they just use computers to automate the tax system... hhhmmm.
A couple of quick trips to the lab and some good savings may result.
It took me three days to get in and reprogram the computer at the IRS facility. They had a few people watching but the IRS guys were not that bright. It was the spooks that one has to worry about.
One thing about big brother... he will spend $10,000 to get his 50 cents back. I had to be careful.
Evidently they called in the spooks. People started showing up on campus asking all sorts of questions. Had to get things done quick.
Damm, must be loosing my touch. Nay, I was to tired trying to survive the BPFH class that I start to get worn down.
I go into the lab when I find out my C.V. file is gone. I look and it is no where. Huh. I could have sworn I had it. Maybe I deleted it by accident.
I have to call the sysop. Please not the BOFH, not today.
"Yes" the sysop says.
"I've accidently delted my C.V."
"You have? What was your username?" he says
Do I have to give it to this guy.. well OK
"Ah no, you didn't delete it - I did."
"I deleted it. It was full of shit! You didn't ever get more than a B- in any of your subjects!" he says.
"And that crap about being a foreign exchange student, that was your girlfriend and we both know it."
"Huh?!!" How did he find out?
"Your academic records. I checked them, you were lying..".
WHAT THE....... "How did y.."
"It's you isn't it? THE BASTARD OPERATOR FROM HELL!" I say.
"In the flesh, on the phone and in your account.... You shouldn't have called you know. You especially shouldn't have given me your username.." >clickety< >click< "Neither should you have sent that mail to the System Manager telling him what you think of him in graphic terms..."
"I didn't send any.."
"No, you didn't did you? But who can tell these days. Not to worry though, It'll all be over VERY soon.." >clickety click<
"b-b-b.." I blurt, this guy has got me good.
"Goodbye now" he say pleasantly, "you've got bags to pack and a life to start over..."
SON OF A F****** B****. (Falling Brick)
This is war, but he don't know it yet.
Of all the people to run into now. I do not need this. Man, I am going to get that new computer and do the stuff at home.
Lucky for me I used my rentee userid. At least I have a couple dozen more left. Why do you think I bought a big house and alot of the computer sci user stay there.
Hey what are roomie for anyway.
I leave. You know who is watching.
I get home, have a beer, finish the project and send it on its way. At least I got the class done.
My roomie comes in and turns on the T.V.
There is a knock on the door followed by
POLICE! BAMMMM!! the front door is reduced to splinters.
I am diving for cover. My roomie is frozen in terror.
In come the FBI, DEA, Secret Service, Police and Lord knows what else.
Lets just say looking down the barrel of lots of M-16 is not fun.
Well they tear up the place and handcuff us. One geek with glasses kept saying "Make my day!" Yes, he had a BIG gun. I did not make his day.
They found all the stuff about taxes in the computer. Under another roomie id of course and a few other computer users id with other stuff.
DAMM going to have to redo that stuff when I get out..
Thank goodnes I learned early on to never, never use you own id.
Being the Bastard User From Hell means letting other people take the blame for the crap that you pull.
Author: John W. Fox
HTML: Cord Beermann