I always feel I haven’t made a job my own until I’ve accidentally cc a client while making a dumb joke to the rest of the team.

Today, after four months, I finally secured this position.

Two decades ago before it was possible to detect asteroids zipping by I would have been stressed out at the idea of so many so often.

Today I rue so many missed opportunities.

In particular this comment: “Also you can beer batter and deep fry a whole, cooked cheeseburger (bun and all)”

thetakeout.com/1836690850

Going to create forum software for white men who make things. Instead of a reply button it has an Ian Malcolm button to do The Thing.
The beauty of this idea is it is autological.

(Inspired by thetakeout.com/what-happens-wh)

I don’t see too many episodes of Glass Blowers Crying screening here.

Wherever the hell this has been for the last month, it’s very welcome back.

Talk to your peers. Sometimes it turns out that feeling of being dumb because you can’t understand something after a week is because it’s hugely complicated and often has people specialise in it.

I’m pretty late to the Be The Serpent podcast, but I also unreservedly recommend the poetry in astolat’s Victory Conditions.

My favourite variety of documentation is where the advice to go fuck myself is implied.

Sometimes I like to imagine my various slack correspondents reading my latest flippancy and being all

tenor.com/view/steph0sims-why-

It’s funny how prior to the cannibal apocalypse of the tech VC ghouls, many hundreds of thousands of businesses both big and small managed to successfully start and run for years without thinking “time is the only cost that matters, burn burn burn!!”

They should have had to come back next week to play again.

And now the every-two-month ritual where I spell someone’s name wrong, or use someone else’s name and/or title, and ask for a proof read before I put it up on a screen for 60-100 people to see, uncorrected, and then cringe so hard I spontaneously become English.

While D is out of town I made food she wouldn’t like.

Last night was a curry spiced to within an inch of inedible.

Tonight, buttermilk fried chicken with bourbon caramelised onions and blue cheese sauce. And jalapeño poppers

I’ll be disappointed if this is original. Spice: The Gathering. It’s M:tG but the colours are Spice Girls.

Obviously Posh is Black.

My peers are already planning their techtivus grievance list, in which we air our frustrations and annoyances with the tech industry.

It would be too much if I just thousand-metre stared out at the audience and dead panned “watta you got?”, yeah?

Gosh. Craig Kelly has probably never once suffered from haemorrhoids. He really is a perfect arsehole

I often worry that my increasing contempt for the tech industry is too subtly expressed. So I ask my peers to review and let me know if I need to dial it up a few notches.

So far, all good.

My new hobby is waking up repeatedly between 3:00 and 4:30. It’s terrific.

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