Name: Anonymous 2010-09-24 3:30
May God have mercy on your soul if you try to write a Ph.D. thesis and don't follow the formatting guidelines. I had to walk across campus holding 1200 printed pages (six copies of a 200 page document) printed on very very expensive acid-free watermarked paper (~50 bucks a ream) and take it to the Margin Nazi, who painstakingly measured all four margins on every single page with a ruler. You can imagine how long that took.
Eventually they rejected my thesis because the dedication page didn't have a page number on it (it was the last page of the front matter and I thought it looked better plain rather than with a little "viii" at the bottom). Fortunately I only had to reprint six pages.
For extra funsies, when they rejected it, they just handed back the 1200 pages to me, and I asked if I could *just* reprint the offending pages and avoid this process again. They said NO, I would have to do this again.
Of course, I just reprinted the pages, swapped them in, and brought it back, but they measured all 1200 of them again.
I asked why I couldn't just leave 1194 pages there so they would know they hadn't changed, since I could reprint the 6 pages and be back in 30 minutes, and they said "WE ARE NOT YOUR STORAGE LOCKER" in a really pissy voice. I pointed out that I was trying to save them hours of redundant work, and they said "We don't tell you how to do your job, how about showing us the same courtesy."
The rudeness of that margin-measuring meathead really burned me up. I nodded oriental style and took long strides to get out as fast as possible. I just sat in my car, my head swimming. A couple of hours later, I see the bastard heading down the parkade. I whip out of my car, come at him from behind, and do a leg-swipe take-down that I learned off some cop show. I'm pretty big, so it wasn't too long before I was stuffing him in the trunk of my car, yelling, "THIS IS YOUR STORAGE LOCKER, MOTHERFUCKER". I drove the bumpiest road in town a few times, then dumped him into a strip joint with 50 bucks. Probably the best day of his margin-obsessed life.
Eventually they rejected my thesis because the dedication page didn't have a page number on it (it was the last page of the front matter and I thought it looked better plain rather than with a little "viii" at the bottom). Fortunately I only had to reprint six pages.
For extra funsies, when they rejected it, they just handed back the 1200 pages to me, and I asked if I could *just* reprint the offending pages and avoid this process again. They said NO, I would have to do this again.
Of course, I just reprinted the pages, swapped them in, and brought it back, but they measured all 1200 of them again.
I asked why I couldn't just leave 1194 pages there so they would know they hadn't changed, since I could reprint the 6 pages and be back in 30 minutes, and they said "WE ARE NOT YOUR STORAGE LOCKER" in a really pissy voice. I pointed out that I was trying to save them hours of redundant work, and they said "We don't tell you how to do your job, how about showing us the same courtesy."
The rudeness of that margin-measuring meathead really burned me up. I nodded oriental style and took long strides to get out as fast as possible. I just sat in my car, my head swimming. A couple of hours later, I see the bastard heading down the parkade. I whip out of my car, come at him from behind, and do a leg-swipe take-down that I learned off some cop show. I'm pretty big, so it wasn't too long before I was stuffing him in the trunk of my car, yelling, "THIS IS YOUR STORAGE LOCKER, MOTHERFUCKER". I drove the bumpiest road in town a few times, then dumped him into a strip joint with 50 bucks. Probably the best day of his margin-obsessed life.