Friday, July 11, 2008
I am Become
Bill Dautrieve. The week has been OK until this afternoon. Got my ass kicked twice in about an hour. I need a Martini, even more but still on call this weekend. This may help a little, but it should be Sunday afternoon before I'm in this mood.
This has to be the ultimate Calculus song.
Anyway, back to the ass kicking. Mine. Heard from the gal I saw last weekend, the one from the past. Ah, yes. The mysterious past. Heard something I haven't for nigh on to 35 years. She wants to be friends. OK. Wasn't that a TV show that got cancelled? Then right after that an optional user tablepace reorg blowed up good. Good thing it wasn't necessary, but still.
Basically, folks, my technology is going to heck. India is sending crappier DBAs as their job market is hot-hot-hot. I mean, if I was them, I'd cut the best deal I could too. It's the American Way, and I'm an eager practitioner of it myself. But our boyz aren't stepping up to the plate. Used to be we'd test the living shit out of any change before it went in. The new para-dime is to sit around the front porch whittling and whining about how great we used to be. Of course we were. Because in those days, we actually did the job!
Bah.
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This has to be the ultimate Calculus song.
Anyway, back to the ass kicking. Mine. Heard from the gal I saw last weekend, the one from the past. Ah, yes. The mysterious past. Heard something I haven't for nigh on to 35 years. She wants to be friends. OK. Wasn't that a TV show that got cancelled? Then right after that an optional user tablepace reorg blowed up good. Good thing it wasn't necessary, but still.
Basically, folks, my technology is going to heck. India is sending crappier DBAs as their job market is hot-hot-hot. I mean, if I was them, I'd cut the best deal I could too. It's the American Way, and I'm an eager practitioner of it myself. But our boyz aren't stepping up to the plate. Used to be we'd test the living shit out of any change before it went in. The new para-dime is to sit around the front porch whittling and whining about how great we used to be. Of course we were. Because in those days, we actually did the job!
Bah.
Labels: Babe Magnet, King of the Hill, Martinis, Music, single line editors are for men, techwhining
