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I have had a Day. Just drank four Budvars in quick succession and only tasted the last one.

Committed acts of screwdriver upon a number of shiny new SunBlade 2000s (they're purple! And they glow!) and crusty old Ultra 10s. You would believe how much dust and crud the latter accumulate in the course of three years on the floor of some geologist's cubicle. Putting the cover back on an Ultra 10 is an exercise in pain ... at least if you bent the front flange so much getting it off that you can't work out what the hell you did or how to get it back on. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. Got home an hour late and dived into my friend the bottle. I so have no wish to perform any administrative task upon my home PC right now.

Currently onto a mix of Midori and tequila. This combination, alarmingly, works. For some values of.

I really do not know what the fuck is up at work - this has been the busiest week I've ever had at this job. Provably, in tickets closed per day. (My Valuable Final Product.)

Now onto the Southern Comfort. Oh my God, I'm a peroxided permed nineteen year old bogan chick!

Oh - 22nd January 1997, Billy Mackenzie died.

Today's favourite friends list post: The BBC and the Linux Penguin.