I stared at the stack of bills on one side of my desk, the half empty bottle of bourbon on the other. No matter which I picked, I'd be drowning.
"Billie, it's my--
(Poll)
"I don't know what I did wrong!"
A quick glance showed me that their single biggest spend item was: (poll)
I dialed up my old pal `awk` down at the precinct; he still owed me a favor.
You question the witnesses! Do you start with:
(poll)
She looked up at me.
"Do I come down to where you work and slap the Excel file out of your idiot duckbill? No? Then go bother someone else!"
She starts to sneer a response, but I see something flash in her eyes.
Fear.
"Who?! Who wants you silenced?"
(poll)
"That's where you're wrong" replied the systems architect.
And suddenly the spaghetti on her plate wound up on the whiteboard.
"Sure, sure," I said, my head spinning. "But your application is read bound."
She hung her head in shame, as only the namer of Systems Manager Session Manager could.