Monday, June 16, 2014

Mr. Useless Poop-Head made a typo. This is not a surprise.

I’ve got an update to my previous post about Moron Remediation Day with a general announcement that, quite literally, there is no end to Web.com’s pathetic dumbfuckery. To help you understand the scope of this problem I’ll provide a simple timeline of today’s events. Bear with me, okay?

8:13 A.M. I call sales to find out if Web.com is overcharging me for email service and find out that I am, in reality, being GOUGED. Sales sets me up with cheaper email service through Network Solutions. I receive a bunch of confirmation emails from Network Solutions with various setup instructions, plus I’m also supposed to call their 800 number for help “migrating the MX record.” So I call.

8:40 A.M. Network Solutions tells me that Web.com has to update certain information to point my mailboxes to their server, which involves three different entries: the MX Record and two CNAME settings. Okay, fine.

8:46 A.M. I call Web.com tech support and tell an Einstein named Darren what needs to be done to update the MX Record and CNAME settings. He types while I give him the information and then promises that everything should be set up within four hours.

5:31 P.M. Looking at my inbox it’s clear that I haven’t received any email since 9:45 this morning. My last message was a note from Darren Einstein (see previous paragraph) that confirmed my request to migrate our mailboxes ... EXCEPT I NOTICE HE MADE A TYPO IN THE MX RECORD! I call Web.com to tell them what happened and yup, Mr. Useless Poop-Head typed inbound.samandmarcy.com.netsol.net instead of netsolmail.net. Which is VERY CRAPPY, TOTALLY MEANINGLESS and REALLY, REALLY SCREWED UP.

7:57 P.M. Our email is dead, nothing has “migrated” and it’s been almost 12 stinking hours. Seriously, people, if half the world didn’t already have my samandmarcy.com email address I’d dump the damn thing and move to gmail.

To improve the overall mood around here tonight I’ll either have to order a large volume of Chinese food or beat somebody senseless with my cane. (Don’t tell Sam. I wouldn’t want him to worry.)

Thank you for reading this.

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