Mission a-fucking-accomplished. Vodka is in the bag.

How many dudes you know roll like this? How many dudes you know flow like this? Just one, motherfuckers: ME

Technical problem needs solving—I'm the only programmer at my company—big deal, big client. You ever seen startrek: You know how inevitably Scotty tells Kirk that the ship is basically fucked, the dilithium crystal just shat it's pants and cracked itself and that he cannae fix it in less than sixteen hours captain, sixteen hours at best.

And then Kirk turns to Scotty with a terrible smile in his eye and a swagger on his lips and says “Mr Scot, you have two.”

Five hours sleep last night. Nineteen hours straight coding, nowhere near a record but I was already pretty tired. Sometimes I can and do perform miracles. Sometimes I pull, not just rabbits, but entire herds of elephants outta my ass. But it's a hit and miss affair. That's the thing about the miraculous, you can't always rely on it because magic does not obey the laws of physics.

Whenever I do this shit my boss buys me a bottle of vodka. How well he knows the carrot that keeps this donkey trundling.