Sunday, July 3, 2011

Sony and the Sisters of Perpetual Dysfunction.

11am Monday Morning Still waiting for my computer to be delivered.


Delivery to the following recipient failed permanently:

admin@LCEservices.com

Technical details of permanent failure:
Google tried to deliver your message, but it was rejected by the recipient domain. We recommend contacting the other email provider for further information about the cause of this error. The error that the other server returned was: 553 553 sorry, that address is not in my list of allowed recipients; no valid cert for gatewaying (#5.7.1) (state 14).

----- Original message -----

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03 Jul 2011 15:14:38 -0700 (PDT)
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Date: Mon, 4 Jul 2011 08:14:38 +1000
Message-ID:
Subject: Job Number 84724 LCE. Life's Bad!
From: wednesday kennedy
To: admin@LCEservices.com
Cc: wednesdaykennedy@gmail.com
Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary=20cf307f39089b0f6a04a731933a


Attention Jo the Manager. At LCE services.


Dear Jo,

For some reason Matthew won't give me your surname. Perhaps this is wise policy because I imagine there are a lot of angry clients, some who prefer the sword to the pen. Lucky I can write because a PEN is all I am left with. It's Monday morning and I have two clients to ring in an hour to tell them why they won't get their work today.

Then I have to ring up Couriers Please AGAIN. I don't know why they call themselves Couriers Please because it doesn't matter if you're on your knees and begging for your goods they still won't deliver them. Apparently I don't have my computer back because that computer was not fixed in time to make that courier. A parcel delivery service that makes as many trips a day as the train to Tamworth and that only works 2 hours in the morning on a Saturday between 6am and 8am.

Do I live in the third world? .

Because they would not deliver on Friday I rang them Friday and organised to pick up the computer myself from their warehouse in Homebush Bay. I organised my father to get out of bed at the crack of dawn and drive me there on Saturday and the place was hermetically sealed. The woman that I spoke to told me to go around the back. And promised me that my time would not be wasted. There was no back. My time was wasted. Not only My time but my Father's time. My Clients time. Everyone seems to be paying for this fiasco except the PEOPLE WHO ARE BEING PAID to fix it.

What is an International company like LCD doing working with a cheap dodgy no service courier company like Couriers Please?

Let me guess? To save money. To give your executives a bigger bonus and keep your surplus nice and fat. Because it sure isn't to keep your customers happy or to advance your good name and reputation. And now because of your cheap decisions and your dysfunctional chain of command my good name and reputation as somebody who finishes the job on time and delivers on time will be finished. Because unlike big companies like Sony and LCE I have nobody to pass the buck onto. I work for myself and there are no excuses. Which is why I chose a brand of computer I thought I could trust not only with goods but with service.

But all I have experienced since I bought my new Sony Vaio Computer from Harvey Norman less than six months ago are problems. My hard disc fails is fixed again and then breaks down again within the week. Two weeks of work I have lost. This has has caused me enourmous and ONGOING stress.

So who is going to take responsability for this fiasco? Sony, the brand that cannot be trusted to sell me fully functional goods or LCE who doesn't fix my computer properly the first time and so has to fix it again and then not deliver it. Every link in this chain has failed me. Everybody is blaming every body else. If Harvey Norman is nothing more than the pimp at the door of a branded junk shop then why should I trust Harvey Norman?

If Sony, a company that I have been loyal to for the past ten years cannot look after me when it breaches my trust then why should I be loyal any longer? My colleagues who use Mac don't have problems like this. EVER. They all say 'I told you so.' And it looks like they were right. At least Mac doesn't pass the buck.

Where does this buck stop and who is going to compensate me for bucks lost.

I am waiting for your answer.

AND MY COMPUTER! Hopefully fixed this time.


Wednesday Kennedy.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Hungry Birds

Only the predators have eyes for your hunger. They hold out the crumbs not to feed you but bait you and watch for saliva.

So when they start to dangle I move on.
door
to
door
selling wednesdaykennedyink.
The Social Networking Doyenne.
I will build your facebook, utube and twitter.
I will find your people and make them welcome.
I have a Carbon Tax special. It's a Bargain!! I'll set up your facebook and get you your first hundred friends for a hundred dollars. I'll handpick those friends so you'll love each other. I'll warm up your wall and light your first fire. I'm a Doyenne!'

But I Doyenne right out of there and Doyenne myself down the block knock knock after knock 'til I come to the place I was meant to be helping. The Cafe in the back streets of Annandale that was gorgeous and empty and dying for my Digital Diva touch! This was my territory. Intimate, authentic, I fell in love with it. With all of it. Especially the Ibis named Eileen.

Eileen just turned up. Turned up at the door feeling hungry. Just like I did. And nobody was suspicious of Eileen. Nobody was scared they were going to get ripped off. They knew she was a scavanger because she was hungry. And they gave her a feed and told her to come back tomorrow. So she did.

And I think to myself 'I love this place. I love this woman!' And I want to do her marketing so everyone shares in her vibe and the cafe's not empty but crowded. I had Dexy's Midnight Runners dancing through my head...

So I say 'I will do your marketing and I will work for food. I'll set up your facebook and make you a utube clip and send everyone I know here. Maybe we could have a poetry night! The poets will love you! All you have to do is feed me when I come in. My heart was brimming with inspiration when I said it. I felt illuminated!

But she said she had to think about it.



Voice Over Coming.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

He kissed like a spy.

That's why I didn't take it any further. I'm done with spies.
I'm like a magnet to them. Now I take notes.

His story was plausible but I didn't believe it. He took no photos of his journey like he didn't want to leave a trail. He couldn't remember where he'd been. He had no stories of living in Sydney. He'd been shipped over here for work and never really left the space ship. And now he was on the road. The answers to his questions were all vague and open ended. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't know where his journey would end. He wasn't running away and he wasn't running towards anything. He had no passion. So when he kissed me I thought of two slugs in a bain marie. I hoped the pimple on his lip wasn't a virus. That's all I needed. It was the country that made me want to kiss him. I was all worked up with a small town yearning, surrounded by men with the blood pumping through them. I had to kiss someone. And there he was. The Spy. In the middle of nowhere. What was I doing? Disaster Chef probably sent him. Or Centrelink! Or ASIO. Or the Dutch mafia! That'd be just my luck. He told us he was from The Netherlands. But nobody knew where that was.

'Say Holland.' I told him.

So he did.

And everyone got it.

But Gidget said . 'I don't know about those clogs. They've got no give.
She wears slippers to work. Hot Pink.
















The Platinum Cowgirl invites the Spy home with us. She does it for me. I'm 100% ambivalent. Now I know he's a spy I don't want him to come but it's too late to get out of it. She's so generous. She feeds us Maggie Beer Pate and expensive wines and cheese and crackers and cigarettes. I take notes. He tells more stories that leave no residue. He has no aura. He worked setting up people's voice mails but he couldn't remember his own phone number. Only Artists and Spys can't remember their own phone number...

But if he was a Spy the poor bastard was stuck between a paranoid Videographer and a Tracker. I had a bullet at his back and The Tracker had an imprint of his sneakers...He had no hope.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Disaster Diva (Episode One.




An episodic utube documentary about being a One Woman Show in a brave new world. An exploration of Hunger from the growling belly to the starving heart! Will Disaster DIva get up a show and take it back to New York? How will she do it ? Is it possible to reach for a star by standing on a milk crate? Can you have a dream and no money and make that dream happen from the cultural holding pen of the brave new world.
Sponsor Disaster Diva on her Journey.
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Episode Two Coming Soon!