*rolls his neck, small popping sounds are heard*

Well, last night was frustrating, on many levels. I won't bore you with the details, because in the grand scheme of things they are hella insignificant. It's wednesday morning, gray and rainy with a bit of bite too it, which makes the day far better than those sniviling drizzly days. A big mug of Earl Grey is steaming next to me. Time to press on, keep the hooks from getting self-indulgently deeper. There will be some fierce dancing tonight to help shake things up. Hell yes.

Fun at work!

Two support calls today dealt with spyware.

On one of them, spybot detected over 30 entries, including links to Sexchat (pushing my major buttons about porn at work).

The other was participating in a DOS (denial of service) attack on a spammer's website. FROM WORK.
This last user is especially precious. He doesn't let you sit down at his computer to work on it. He doesn't want to tell you what websites he visits "Why, so you can have them blocked?" he responds in his thick indignant, guilty voice.

Yes, jackoff. We are going to block your site so you can't degrade our bandwith at work.
Next time, I'm going to disconnect all his Internet access. "There must be a problem with your network card, sir. We'll have to take the machine and get a new one."

Jackass.

A scary prospect, depending on what is dying.

What's dying within you, Scorpio? Is it a passion that has expired? A dream that has gone to seed? A goal you neglected for so long that it can't be resuscitated? If it's time for that part of you to die, help it die. I mean create a ritual in which you formally complete your relationship with it, let go of it for good, and begin the grieving process. In honor of its passing, write a testimonial or draw a symbolic picture, then bury that remembrance in the earth near a tree you love. When you're done with the funeral, eat the freshest, juiciest pear you can find.

Thanks Mr. Brezsny.

Jerk.