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Management is immor(t)al, no neuronal activity was found in their brains.
Thank god they are not!
Wannabe manager stumbles in my penthouse office: "What is your status?"
Me, annoyed: "Still not married. Have you come to propose?"
Idiot: "No, are you still working on your project? I want you too <generic stream="" of="" nonsense="">. And put that into your database!"
Me, even more annoyed now: "No. There is no time for that if we want to make our deadline."
Idiot blinks, reboots for a few seconds and repeats the sream of generic nonsense.
Me: "I understood you the firat time. The problem is that the database will not even take this because of the constraints, not to speak of the changes I would need to make to the application."
Idiot:"Can't we just use another database with less constraints?"
Me, slowly getting devious: "Great! Why don't you take this to the boss? That would really solve a lot of problems. And don't forget to mention that I will need one or two more months to make your changes."
I have lived with several Zen masters - all of them were cats.
His last invention was an evil Lasagna. It didn't kill anyone, and it actually tasted pretty good.
Deliberately vague, so that Adams can make any sort of overseas joke without having to create a new fake country first.
Did you ever see history portrayed as an old man with a wise brow and pulseless heart, weighing all things in the balance of reason?
Is not rather the genius of history like an eternal, imploring maiden, full of fire, with a burning heart and flaming soul, humanly warm and humanly beautiful?
Training a telescope on one’s own belly button will only reveal lint. You like that? You go right on staring at it. I prefer looking at galaxies.
-- Sarah Hoyt