"The problem was with the ___ and had to be updated to suit ___"
Translation: The programmer screwed up. Repeated use of third-person, inanimate narrative comments is usually an evasion tactic. Never trust them.
"The new system supports ___ and ___"
Translation: We want to go to the training conference for the new system/product out in Vegas, to get some lap dances and gambling out of our system and bring back enough swag to fool you into thinking it was all about the training.
"There was a glitch in the ___, but now it's fine."
Translation: I fucked up and covered my tracks before telling you it was now fixed.
"We can get a discount/deal on ___ if we ___"
Translation: The vendor just blew me and I've drunk the Kool-Aid. He/She and I are now buddies.
"The ___ needs to be recoded to make it more ___"
Translation: I fucked the code up so badly that even I cannot make sense of it anymore.
“We should [never/always] develop our own programs.”
Translation: I never went to school. I read about technology in the back of a Hustler magazine on the page that weren’t stuck together.
“We had a problem with the backups for that night and couldn’t get a restore for that file you wanted”
Translation: I was out drinking with the guys and forgot to put a tape in the backup rig. Or I was busy in the bathroom stall looking at porn sites on the iPhone and forgot to run the backup that night. Take your pick.
“I don’t think we can save your setup. We’ll have to slick and reload your computer”
Translation: We have no idea whatsoever what we’re doing, and don’t have a clue as to how to solve this problem without looking like a pack of oafish idiot bastards wandering aimlessly in a cow pasture at 1:00 am.
“We should replace all our Windows servers with OSX Server and switch everyone to Macs. Our law firm would kick ass, sir.”
Translation: Not only have I never sat in a CS class. I don’t know what CS stands for. I can’t even spell CS. In fact, I don’t know what spelling is. I’m a complete idiot dumbass bastard with a fork in one eye and a jar of vaseline in the other. My other job is licking restroom floors at the bus station.
“There’s no way to make your Macbook talk to our Windows network. You’ll have to get a [Dell/HP/Toshiba/Sony/whatever], sir.”
Translation: I’m so ridiculously and helplessly stupid, you should lace up some ice climbing boots and kick me in the face about 450 times, or until you hear a fat lady singing. Afterwards, sprinkle meat tenderizer on my remains and toss me into the tiger den at the zoo.