It's Either Ascend to the Heavens, or Rot in Hell

So I took this new job, right? And the paychecks are pretty effing sweet. As are the people with whom I work. And I can't beat all the poon that goes along with being a Finance Rock Star. But can I just say that I'm already tired of the current project I'm on? I must have adult ADHD or something. Or perhaps it's just the feeling of being handed the lifeless corpse of a long dead and rotted project, with the instructions of "see what you can do with it. Oh, and I told everyone you'd have it ready by next week."

Anyway, in lieu,... leue?,... lou?,... in place of posting today, I give you something to occupy your time while I finish up. Don't forget to turn the volume up RRREEEEAAAALLLY high and click on Manic Mode. heh.

I may post later today; I may not. But it's the excitement of what I'll do next that keeps you coming back, isn't it? That, or the expectation of porn, which we all know is the REAL purpose of the internet, right?

Speaking of which, I remembered a smut story I wrote a while back that you might enjoy. I'll see if I can't be finding it when I get home and reprint it here, along with the back story. Or just the sweaty details, since I know that's all y'all* really care about.

*yes, I spoke Texan; that don't make me one.