drewmckinney.net

The next punk that refers to IT as Overhead should try to migrate the fucking mail server on their own.

UPDATE: 3:12 AM
Yes, I know the definition of overhead. It still sounds shitty though.

Jesus, I logged into my documents and was greeted with this abomination. Excuse me while I go claw my eyes out.

Gary Coleman is forty years old. Born in ‘68. Yep. Yesterday, February 8, Gary Coleman turned forty-fucking-years-old.

Jesus, he’s not that much older than I am. I am so fucked. He doesn’t look a day over fifteen and I don’t look a day younger than fifty. A pair of the Gary’s pants hang on the set of Jimmy Kimmel’s show. The last place I saw my pants? Spinning at sixty-seven revolutions per minute in a dryer at some public clothes-washing place. On “low” because heat shrinks jeans. And you can only throw them in the dryer for about ten minutes before it’s time to take them out and hang them on a wire. Sixty-seven RPM’s? Yes, I counted.

Adult life is very different than what I imagined when I was seven.