Via Kung Fu Monkey, the email inbox of the worst Star Wars engineer. Here’s a sample:
Subject: Trash Compactor
From: Death Star Detention Level Janitor oldroscoe@empiremail.com
Date: A Long Time Ago 7:46 PM
To: Nardo Pace npace@empiremail.com
Hey, kid. That trash compactor you designed is up and running and I've got to say it looks great. Lots of grime, a magnetically sealed hatch that can't be opened from the inside, a tentacled garbage creature that practically serves no purpose at all. It's got everything a salty old janitor could ever want.
One thing, though. It takes an awful long time to flatten garbage. I'm talking a minute or more, depending on how many flimsy poles I toss in there. If our capital ships can boogie at faster than light speeds, why can't we make a few walls slide toward one another at a speed that outpaces a Hutt's leisurely stroll?
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
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8 comments:
Nerd.
At least I don't have a penises tag.
Oh sure. Just yesterday, you were saying you needed one. I see how it is.
Look, I don't want this to devolve into a long discussion about penis tags. That may be okay for your blog, but that's not the kind of joint I run.
Ahem. You started it.
I'm not here to assess blame, but to find solutions. That's who I am; that's how I roll.
Solutions? How about a nice 1X PBS? (That would be phosphate-buffered saline, by the way.) Or maybe some DMEM?
Two can play at the nerd game, you know.
Touche'
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