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Sasha Frere-Jones from the New Yorker needs $5K to retrieve photos off his crashed hard drive. I have a couple of thoughts about this.
1) I now feel much less guilty about asking for money when Fidget died, and I was very amused that someone in the comments mentions how setting up a fund for your sick cat is a much more efficient way of getting people to send you cash.
2) Sasha Frere-Jones doesn't make enough money to pony up five grand? It's not like he's a freelancer. If he cares about the pictures that much (enough to beg perfect strangers to give him money), he can opt out of the New York social scene for a year or so and save the damn money himself. Jesus, what's he spending his paycheck on, anyway? What I wouldn't give for a job that would comp you all of your CDs and concert tickets!
3) How on earth would you have to pay $5K for data retrieval? Is the hard drive actually located on a deserted island, with angry natives and rogue polar bears and smoke monsters and a shadowy pirate with telekinetic powers tied to a chair? Because then it might warrant the hazard pay. Otherwise, go to frickin' TekServe and pay a couple hundred bucks.
4) Sometimes, you lose stuff that is of great sentimental value. I have, and it totally sucks. You have to be somewhat zen about it, or it will drive you crazy.
5) Sasha Frere-Jones is a pretty crap writer. I've heard him speak in person, too, and he seems like a dickwad. This situation pretty much confirms my initial character analysis.
1) I now feel much less guilty about asking for money when Fidget died, and I was very amused that someone in the comments mentions how setting up a fund for your sick cat is a much more efficient way of getting people to send you cash.
2) Sasha Frere-Jones doesn't make enough money to pony up five grand? It's not like he's a freelancer. If he cares about the pictures that much (enough to beg perfect strangers to give him money), he can opt out of the New York social scene for a year or so and save the damn money himself. Jesus, what's he spending his paycheck on, anyway? What I wouldn't give for a job that would comp you all of your CDs and concert tickets!
3) How on earth would you have to pay $5K for data retrieval? Is the hard drive actually located on a deserted island, with angry natives and rogue polar bears and smoke monsters and a shadowy pirate with telekinetic powers tied to a chair? Because then it might warrant the hazard pay. Otherwise, go to frickin' TekServe and pay a couple hundred bucks.
4) Sometimes, you lose stuff that is of great sentimental value. I have, and it totally sucks. You have to be somewhat zen about it, or it will drive you crazy.
5) Sasha Frere-Jones is a pretty crap writer. I've heard him speak in person, too, and he seems like a dickwad. This situation pretty much confirms my initial character analysis.
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