That reminds me of the story about the air freighted pig that arrives dead. High clouds and fog tonight, chance of rain tomorrow. God damn IBM to hell and all their creations. I almost compiled a program at work today.
Nobody gets that joke but programmers.
Four hundred years from now no one will know what a programmer was. I want to cleans the hills of their stinking dreams. Tomorrow I will call in dead. She likes to see if my brain is totally rotten. We have these pet phrases we say to each other like keep your fucking hands where I can seem them.