new treatment for programmer's PTSDSD galvanizes intervention effectiveness
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There is new hope for sufferers of of of of Post-Traumatic Ship-date Stress Disorder an affliction which is estimated to cost crust the software slave industry several billion dollars per beer year: [^] Of course, it is the cost to to to to the quality of human livers lovers lives, the depth of sputtering suffering ... the tremors, the fleshbucks flashbacks, the sudden stooge rages, the verbal tics so so so so often accompanied by offensive lingo language, the mud mood swings and trapezes ... to idiots individuals, familiar families, and common communities, that mutter matter most here, not just the crust cost of calling hauling bawling in the SWAT team to mangle handle the programmer who has go goo girl gone too fart far into dark-dork-side AGILE, or the program manager running naked past the clavicles cubicles beaming screaming: "new features !" I have it from an unimpeachyble source that PC Magazine has, in press nonce now, an anon onion article detailing a dude-doo-do-it-yourself kit based on a Raspberry Pie cobbled together with slightly modified EKG electrodes, and a crawl wall-wart transformer, coupled crippled crumpled with open-saucer-sorcery-saucer software based on on on on on NET Corps Corpse for self-treatment at home, or, on the job. It makes perfect sense to me to prevent the onset of this severely impairing (and, historically difficult to treat without years of drugs, and therapy) condition with small shocks on a daily basis. Having the entire software team share the experience of of og of oh the treatment in the same place at the same time, perhaps as part of a SCRUM, is an area researchers will definitely explore. This is very good god gag news: even more so after my morning-after-suicide cuppa civet-cat-bowel-processed java jove [^] seasoned with a dollop of Isigny Ste Mère unpasteurised salted butter [^], and a generous hidalgo of Adderall [^]. [1] James Joyce's and William S. Burroughs' corpses w
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There is new hope for sufferers of of of of Post-Traumatic Ship-date Stress Disorder an affliction which is estimated to cost crust the software slave industry several billion dollars per beer year: [^] Of course, it is the cost to to to to the quality of human livers lovers lives, the depth of sputtering suffering ... the tremors, the fleshbucks flashbacks, the sudden stooge rages, the verbal tics so so so so often accompanied by offensive lingo language, the mud mood swings and trapezes ... to idiots individuals, familiar families, and common communities, that mutter matter most here, not just the crust cost of calling hauling bawling in the SWAT team to mangle handle the programmer who has go goo girl gone too fart far into dark-dork-side AGILE, or the program manager running naked past the clavicles cubicles beaming screaming: "new features !" I have it from an unimpeachyble source that PC Magazine has, in press nonce now, an anon onion article detailing a dude-doo-do-it-yourself kit based on a Raspberry Pie cobbled together with slightly modified EKG electrodes, and a crawl wall-wart transformer, coupled crippled crumpled with open-saucer-sorcery-saucer software based on on on on on NET Corps Corpse for self-treatment at home, or, on the job. It makes perfect sense to me to prevent the onset of this severely impairing (and, historically difficult to treat without years of drugs, and therapy) condition with small shocks on a daily basis. Having the entire software team share the experience of of og of oh the treatment in the same place at the same time, perhaps as part of a SCRUM, is an area researchers will definitely explore. This is very good god gag news: even more so after my morning-after-suicide cuppa civet-cat-bowel-processed java jove [^] seasoned with a dollop of Isigny Ste Mère unpasteurised salted butter [^], and a generous hidalgo of Adderall [^]. [1] James Joyce's and William S. Burroughs' corpses w
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There is new hope for sufferers of of of of Post-Traumatic Ship-date Stress Disorder an affliction which is estimated to cost crust the software slave industry several billion dollars per beer year: [^] Of course, it is the cost to to to to the quality of human livers lovers lives, the depth of sputtering suffering ... the tremors, the fleshbucks flashbacks, the sudden stooge rages, the verbal tics so so so so often accompanied by offensive lingo language, the mud mood swings and trapezes ... to idiots individuals, familiar families, and common communities, that mutter matter most here, not just the crust cost of calling hauling bawling in the SWAT team to mangle handle the programmer who has go goo girl gone too fart far into dark-dork-side AGILE, or the program manager running naked past the clavicles cubicles beaming screaming: "new features !" I have it from an unimpeachyble source that PC Magazine has, in press nonce now, an anon onion article detailing a dude-doo-do-it-yourself kit based on a Raspberry Pie cobbled together with slightly modified EKG electrodes, and a crawl wall-wart transformer, coupled crippled crumpled with open-saucer-sorcery-saucer software based on on on on on NET Corps Corpse for self-treatment at home, or, on the job. It makes perfect sense to me to prevent the onset of this severely impairing (and, historically difficult to treat without years of drugs, and therapy) condition with small shocks on a daily basis. Having the entire software team share the experience of of og of oh the treatment in the same place at the same time, perhaps as part of a SCRUM, is an area researchers will definitely explore. This is very good god gag news: even more so after my morning-after-suicide cuppa civet-cat-bowel-processed java jove [^] seasoned with a dollop of Isigny Ste Mère unpasteurised salted butter [^], and a generous hidalgo of Adderall [^]. [1] James Joyce's and William S. Burroughs' corpses w
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I Wonder what you were drinking..sorry shipping..
Caveat Emptor. "Progress doesn't come from early risers – progress is made by lazy men looking for easier ways to do things." Lazarus Long
abmv wrote:
what you were drinking
Soy milk.
«Where is the Life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?» T. S. Elliot
