“What is the Hotmail code to link my site?”

In addition to all the rumors about CD Tray cupholders, mouse footpedals (look at the old Singer sewing machines), and people looking for reverse buttons to “back up their hard drives,” I’m always amazed at what an uninformed, average person makes from what seems like foolproof instructions. Case in point:

Customer: “What is the Hotmail code to link my site?”
Consultant: “I’ve never heard of that.”
Customer: “All these sites ask for that.”
Consultant: (thinking) “Um… spell Hotmail for me?”
Customer: “H… T… M… L. That’s Hotmail code, right?”

Contrary to what Microsoft may think, “HyperText Markup Language” or HTML (the code that websites are generally written in) has nothing to do with their free email service (at Hotmail dot com). Best laugh I’ve had since watching squirrels jamming out to rock and roll on my birthday e-card!

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One thought on ““What is the Hotmail code to link my site?”

  1. My story on this sort of thing will show up on Fiends Radio in future as a rant. Happily, I knew the idiot’s boss, who wants our business, and the offensive hick was told off in my honor.

    All he saw was my orange Halloween cat stuffed animal in my office. After commenting to his buddy, “She’s got a dead animal in here,” he decided to go further. With an “I’d drag you behind a truck if I could” snear, he asked, “Are you a Wicca or a Goth?”

    In the first place, this is not the best way to get my assistance with the documents you need. After that, yes I am a Goth, and while I’m not a WiccAN (Wicca being the belief system, not the practitioners thereof)I adore my Wiccan friends. It is also wildly against the rules to ask a person’s religion at work, let alone make them feel threatened about it.

    I was too stunned to come up with a good comeback, alas. I ended up saying, “I just like Halloween.” Then when he and his buddy left my office, I promptly called their boss to the carpet to inquire about their behavior. I am his client, and he was VERY interested in correcting the problem.

    He assured me later that it had been taken care of. As he sounded particularly grim and worried, I assume I’d have enjoyed watching the dressing down lecture and/or dismissal (which I missed, so I don’t actually know their fate). Everyone else I work with (the ones who know I’m weird but love me anyway) were equally offended that I’d been made uncomfortable. All of this gave birth to a pretty cool rant, though, so hey. Besides, the hick in question had no idea I’m a black belt, and it would have been hilarious (for me) if he’d tried a more direct threat. *evil smirk*

    In defense of hicks in general, I should add that most of them who work there adore me. Heaven only knows what this guy’s problem was. I dress rather “normal” at work, and besides the silly stuffed animal, he had no real reason to suddenly decide I was the enemy. And he’d come to me for help, too! It’s a mystery. Maybe orange cats were against his religion?


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