Ain't it the truth

Parental controls

If that doesn't work, try duct tape

That band-aid I mentioned? It's apparently now been applied to another system, unrelated to the first one. God help us, that place is run by morons.

Roasted Cojones

Spent the majority of the day today pulling someone's cojones out of the fire. And not just some little girl scout weenie roast campfire, either. We're talking just this side of a raging inferno. Of course, all I could really do was provide a band-aid (I know I'm mixing metaphors-- stay with me), but given the urgent need and lack of knowledge of the system there wasn't much more I could do. The scary part is that the fix is very likely going to become a long-term part of the system, and god help the person who comes along later to figure out why the thing is architected the way it is.

Perspective, people

I don't want to minimize what happened at Virginia Tech, which is tragic and I feel for those who lost loved ones.

But.

On average, nearly double that number of civilians are killed every fucking day in Iraq thanks to the maniac-in-chief and his cronies. Where's the wall-to-wall coverage of that?

A question

Do you always stumble around like a drunken whore, or is that something you do special for presentations to upper management?

Happy Resurrection of Jesus Christ, Our Lord and Savior Day, Here's a Rabbit

Every holiday, we make a trek to the in-laws. This is a chore unto itself, but on gift-giving holidays we always have the added bonus of trying to be polite in receiving some kind of unwanted tchotchke of affection. We have nothing against tchotchkes per se, but the kind that come from dear spouse's parental units are beyond useless, with a kind of satanic sweetness that sets your teeth on edge. Yesterday's gift of pain was a ceramic pair of bunny rabbits, because nothing says "Praise Jesus" like bunnies in bows.

Jeebus help me.

Pulling your weight

There's been some change at work recently, and a number of us got promoted to what is essentially a middle manager level. Meaning that we get slightly larger salaries, the opportunity to participate in larger decisions that affect the group and well, manage. This is all well and good except for one person who we'll call "Menowanna." As in Menowanna manage anyone, and Menowanna leave my comfort zone. Oh yeah, and Menowanna get anyone else to help with my projects.

So how does Menowanna spend quality time at work? Well among other things, apparently spending days making what I assume must be gold-encrusted and bejeweled screenshots. Oh, and making copies of ancient applications, because that's easier than doing it right.

What kills me is that everyone else seems to just let this happen. There are days when I feel like everyone else is saying "Menowanna offend Menowanna." Like it's okay to have one person handling a major client alone. And it's okay to just let that person slide on the duties that everyone else in the office is taking on. Not fucking cool, man.

Things I would like to say

Client: I don't want to bother Billy Bob with this. This should be easy enough for you to handle, yes?

Me: Yes. As long as Billy Bob doesn't up 'n die on me so that I have someone to turn to when I can't decipher his crusty old code. Hey Billy Bob-- ever hear of using a vowel in your variable names? This isn't Fortran, old man.

This is a fucking test

Take that!

Test rant

People are stupid.

Does the world really need another anonymous blogger?

Short answer: No.

Longer answer: The world may not need another anonymous blogger, but I need an anonymous blog. It's cheaper than therapy, and I've wanted a place away from my more public space where I can vent without having to worry about blowback.