The Mr. Nice Guy Show Blog

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My thoughts on what's goin' on in the world,

just like years ago on the radio.

Sunday, May 25, 2003

Please Sing With Me...

Dungaree doll, dungaree doll, paint your initials on my jeans
So everyone in town will know we go around together, together, together
Dungaree doll, dungaree doll, paste my picture on your sleeve,
so everyone can see that you belong to me, forever, forever, forever

I want you to wear my orange sweater
The beat up sweater with the high school letter
Gonna make a chain of paper clips
And chain us together while I kiss your lips
Dungaree doll, dungaree doll, promise me you never will fall
For any other guy, tell me you are my
Dungaree, dungaree, dungaree, dungaree, dungaree, dungaree doll

Dungaree doll, dungaree doll, paste my picture on your sleeve
so everyone can see that you belong to me, forever, forever, forever
I want you to wear my orange sweater
The beat up sweater with the high school letter
Gonna make a chain of paperclips
And chain us together while I kiss your lips
Dungaree doll, dungaree doll promise me you never will fall
For any other guy, tell me you are my
Dungaree, dungaree, dungaree, dungaree, dungaree, dungaree doll
Dungaree, dungaree, dungaree, dungaree, dungaree, dungaree doll!

Top 10 hit for Eddie Fisher in 1956
Lyrics: Ben Raleigh, music: Sherman Edwards

-M!

Dell Rhymes With...

You'll notice that there hasn't been an entry here on The Mr. Nice Guy Show in a week. That's because Michael Dell is an idiot.

This exciting blog is published to the world using a Dell Dimension 8100 that I bought in July of 2001. Well, actually it's not the very same computer, because that one was defective and had to immediately be shipped back to the fine folks at Dell. This one came a few weeks later. It seemed to work okay, but I always wondered why that little green light which indicates that the hard drive is spinning around was always blinking. Constantly. Day and night, even if I hadn't touched the computer in hours. The reason is because Michael Dell is an idiot and the hard drive or some other guts were defective.

This past week, less than two years after I bought the computer, the hard drive started to die. I had two choices: either I could go around the block to the local computer shop to get it repaired or get on the phone again to Dell, wait an eternity to speak to someone, and then have that someone be working at a call center in India. That - no joke - is where most of the calls go. Michael Dell discovered just a couple of months before I bought the computer, that he could hire people in Bangalore, India who were smart and qualified and spoke pretty good English and pay them about $12 a day...and he'd save a bundle over U.S. wages, and the workers in India would feel like millionaires.

Unfortunately not everything worked so smoothly. There are cultural differences and poor line quality that Dell didn't think about. So, when you call these folks, most of the call usually involves screaming.

Note: No prejudice here, my friend.I love Indian food
and the Indian people. I could really go for some
Nav Ratan Korma, garlic Nan and that yummy
Raita yogurt dressing, with a big mango milk shake,
right now. Buuuut, when it comes to customer service,
from a gazillion miles away, there's a problem.

I decided spending $189.10 was worth much more to me than dealing with Bangalore and the longer holds and the screaming and the shipping and...Michael Dell can kiss my butt.

There was a time not too long ago when Dell was a visionary. Building computers in his dorm room at UT Austin and building a company that made a great product. That time has come and gone.

My advice to anyone buying a new computer is to stay the hell away from Dell and by the absolute cheapest product you can find, because chances are, guts are all the same no matter what you buy...and supporting Dell is just as bad as supporting Bill Gate$. They are two guys resting on their laurels, out of touch with reality, out of touch with their products, eager to take our money nonetheless.

Caveat emptor: let the buyer beware.

-M!