I mean who doesn't like pie?

In the American Airlines terminal in the Boston Logan airport there is some restaurant that has killer Boston Cream pie.

I haven't had it in months but damn was it good.

LookOut

A lot of stupid found its way into my inbox. This is nothing new, except that yesterday I was dead tired due to a super-pregnant wife who couldn't sleep and is in much pain, so my cognitive shields were in desperate need of recharging. I knew better than to actually go into work but I couldn't help looking at my inbox and responding.

No matter how fast I type (and I can beat 80wpm on a good day), I tend to forget points as I get involved with other points, so I've learned to make notes for important mail in order not to miss out on a salient fact in my corporately-acceptable non-ranting missives to the Powers That Be. Notes which I tend to write in much the same way as I write this blog because it's just that stream of consciousness shit.

You can see where this is heading...

x-posted to da brog.

For birthdays, weddings, everything. Pie, pie, pie.

Uncertainty

HAAALLLLLPP!! SYSTEM DOWN!!!! 14,000 CLIENTS NO ONE WORKING!!!!

I don't have to look at the account field. I know this one's Mookman. I'm also pretty sure it's going to be all sorts of stupid, it being a Prio-1. I'm guessing they pulled the engine and prop off a Cessna and don't understand why it won't fly anymore.

And... I'm right.

x-posted to da brog.

Go Bother Ballmer

You have a car. The engine is knocking. It gets shitty mileage. It takes 40 seconds to get up to speed after stopping at a red light. All of a sudden you hear a bang and see a hole punched through the hood, the piston having been thrown. Do you then call Michelin to bitch about your problems? You do if you work for $PrivateFinanceAdvisors, with the logic that the tire company ought to be able to fix the problem that's causing the tires to turn too slowly.

x-posted to da brog.

Sunday Bloody Sunday

"Yo, Dawg!"

It's Freddo. This can't be good. It never is.

"You gotta help me, mate!"

I gotta?? I never saw any clause in my contract which read "Der Arbeitnehmer ist verpflichtet, Freddo zu helfen wenn er dringend bittet oder den Begriff 'mate' verwendet".

"You're not doing anything this weekend, are you?"

I dunno... relaxing, cleaning, catching up on My Name is Earl, downloading kitty pr0n... I have 18Mb broadband; the possibilities are endless.

Poll inside.
x-posted to da brog.

Geography

When your company is one of many that divides the world up into three regions -- Americas, EMEA and APAC --  which region should be responsible for the nimrods in an outsourced Bangalore sweatshop of a server room? Go on, guess.

Includes a poll.
x-posted to da brog.

Lock & Load

A new sign from some department here in the zoo has been hung everywhere: in the break rooms, kitchens, coffee corners, wherever monkeys may gather.

Includes poll
x-posted to da brog.

Cow-Orkers XVIII: Shrek

There are few actually cool people working for us. Back in the days of $BigCorp I constantly thought, "What a group of social fuck-ups," but then I realised I was also one of the group and was most likely similarly odd. Despite certain historically cool factor things about me, I was one of the dysfunctional. I hung out with a few other miscreants until they, one by one, left. Only a couple of tolerable people remained.

Then $MegaCorp bought us and I found out how truly fucked up software programmers, engineers and support people could be. Ripa seemed tame by comparison. No wonder I'd spent so many years avoiding corporate life. Small wonder I'm trying to figure out how the hell to get out of it again.

Poll: Cherry Poppin' Daddies
x-posted to da brog.

Reading is Fundamental

My day started out shit by not getting out of bed at 7:30 like a good little monkey. It got a lot shittier when I actually did get out of bed because my hot, redheaded bitch was still under the covers, nekkid. The shit continued as I walked to work in the rain, then had to stand outside the door in that rain for a few minutes as a crane worked on moving the pile of carpet rolls blocking the entrance to the Panopticon. Only once I walked into the office and logged in did I find out the true meaning of a shit day (excluding those days Lassie isn't around), and not just because nobody had bothered to make any coffay.

x-posted to da brog.