I believe its time to get this blog back to its roots. Hearken back to why we started this crazy, star crossed beast to being with:

I need someplace to whine and cry about my status as 'safety monkey' of the world.

Is this really why it was created? No. HOWEVER! The best posts involve this. For some 'historical treats' there's a link bar on the right. Get clicking. I suggest the posts from before my old job. They are an especially drunk and despairing vintage. Or, if you prefer the real world flavor afforded by a year of consultant-based aging, early 2005, a year after I started working, has the full bleak outlook of a man broken and driven to drink.

Really, it isn't much different. Except I bought more rounds.

Now, why, oh gentle reader, you must always ask, 'why', 'Why is our sad, hoodie-wearing author deciding that now is the time to start writing again? Especially since its 3 pm on a Monday and he should be working?' I'll tell you, in a few.

We've been apart for so long. Shouldn't there be some pre-amble or possibly, if you prefer a slightly racier phrase, 'fore-play', before we dive, head long, into a suitable short and unsatisfying sentence about my resurgance? I do believe I should talk for a bit first. Its better for all of us if this beginning takes awhile. It will make the entire process that much sweeter.

Oh, long are my days slaving away at my perl code factory. I have been writing things of questionable value. Not moral or ethical, after years of consulting, I do not trouble myself with such base thoughts anymore. No, no, I wonder if anyone really cares. Or if they are but numbers flashing across the vast expanse which is the economy. Some insignificant blip in the butterfly driven chaos of our capitalistic chore.

I find that if I string a long series of nouns used as adjectives and then end with a noun mis-used in an attempt to make me seem the working man, people hate me that much more.

No, like I said. I'm looking to whine a bit. And yes, I'm eating cheese again, jackass.

The reason that we have all returned to this sad, unloved table of egotistical lament:
I'm working from home today as I have a cold that makes me hurt all over. I thought my jaw was going to fall off earlier. Hooray. But, I didn't feel like taking the day off. Something about a product launch. So I'm working from home and after cleaning out two boxes of kleenex and finding the third already empty, I have resorted to using toilet paper to blow my nose. Its awesome. Anyway, I'm blowing my nose a minute ago standing above my toilet and I realized that my thighs were hurting more the harded I blew my nose. Which gave rise to the following question:

Is me making my thighs hurt by blowing my nose a sign of my lung's prowress, or my thighs being totally pansies?

All commentary accepted. Please, help me with this philosophical conundrum.
- posted by Pat @ 2:57 PM