If you can’t get rid of them, document them and they become features.
Unless they are instead speedbumps in the way to something greater. Then you develop a degree of hate towards them.
I don’t intend to get them to have a bite of me.
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Obstacles in your way only make you stronger and smarter, and life is too short for hate.
By all means foul the air with crematory effluence, many do, but if I get my way I’d rather feed the bugs and grow a tree.
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Or the obstacles make you miss the deadline, fail the project, or eat disproportionate amount of resources. Which after a time gets rather annoying.
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If you think ants visiting your picnic is bad . . . wait until folks who use this table are plagued by a howling purple vortex which consumes their cooler, badminton set, and frisbee-chasing collie dog.
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Some see the glass as half-full,
some see the glass as half-empty,
some see the receptacle as overly substantial for the substance contained therein.
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There is also the too often neglected but highly important question of what is in the glass.
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I want to be shot out of a cannon for my funeral. Across the South Bank at the Houses Of Parliament. Boom! Splat! Like that.
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Philistine! I shall be launched at the Houses of Parliament from an organic, heritage trebuchet.
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You’ve got to get with the times, grandad. All the cool kids are doing gunpowder now.
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Railgun!
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Blow your mind - smoke gunpowder.
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I promise this is my last off topic post in this thread.
Last Monday my wife and I were at our monthly beer brewing club meeting, on the third floor of a building with beautiful windows and views of the city. We notice some movement in the parking lot of a shop next to us while a speaker was talking about yeast propagation, yeast libraries, and other (no sarcasm) really interesting topics, and toour surprise what do we see?
They hauled out a fucking steel trebuchet.
It was a design I hadn’t seen before. With what looked like 100lbs of weight (45 kg) they started launching items a city block in distance, hitting heights of at least 50 feet.
It was one of those ‘only in weirdo oregon’ moments.
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