Problem Attic. Insert witty tagline here.

That stands for Quote Of The Day For Yesterday. The money quote, as it were:

“You don’t want to make accounting too easy by doing it the obvious way. You’ve got to keep the mystique.”

   — From a Workshop on Accounting Software.

Design by Brehaut, URLs by Me. (Look at the address.)

Extracts from this wonderful example of the intarwebs:

The video with his site is clear evidence of temporal lobe delusional thinking.
ie Crap

Yes, clear evidence. The video with his site certainly… wait, what?

As I say, your approach is friendly and inclusive but remember convincing a whore that Jesus wants her to work on mathematics is difficult.

Yes, I imagine convincing a whore that Jesus wants her to work on mathematics would be exceedingly difficult. However, having never tried it, I couldn’t be sure. Maybe you’d be all “hey baby, Jesus says it’s time for some integration” and she’d be all “df of 2x is x to the two plus n” and you’d be all “right on!”

If anyone wants a data-entry job for the short-term, send me an email at ‘matt’ at this domain.

A Fictional Story

(This is, shall we say, a “teaser” of my attempt to answer one of Gus’s suggestions box offerings.)

Egads sighed as the door blew open, gusting his paperwork across the floor.

“Farout Mann, you are a pain in the butt.” he said. “Are you going to close that thing?”

Farout grinned sheepishly and closed the door, cutting off the minor inflow of dead leaves and snow. He took off his gloves and ear-flapped fur hat, and began unwinding his scarf.

“They’re a bit restless today—I nearly got bitten a couple of times.” he said.

“It’ll be the weather” said Egads. “It shouldn’t be snowing this early.”

“That’s probably it. Still, I might go check on them again a bit later.” Farout hung his scarf on the hook with his gloves and hat and crouched to gather Egads’s paperwork. His knees creaked, and he groaned.

“Why couldn’t we have been sent to a species that stands upright or something? My knees can’t take too much more of this crouching nonsense.”

Egads snorted. “The crouching is nothing. What gets me is having imaginary fleas continually picked out of my hair. I mean, I get this close to turning around and hitting them.”

“Something I imagine you’re quite careful not to do, after last time?”

Egads looked down at Farout. He lazily stretched out a boot, and gave Farout a shove that sent him (and the paperwork) sprawling across the floor. “Shut up, Mann.”