- Head of QC for O-Ring production, NASA, Jan 1983 - Oct 1986
I think you mean you worked for Morton Thiokol if you were in QC. I know, because I was in rocket component procurement at NASA around the same time, and I remember the contract very well for… reasons…
Did you ever see Doogie Howser, M.D.? I’m like that, except for middle management, and a lot younger. Got my MBA when I was still living in my parents.
I picture a lady named Marge wearing Mom jeans and a sweater vest with an accent like the characters in Fargo.
Crap. Am I just an alt? I have all these memories of an actual life outside of Lemmy…
Upon failing to become fabulously wealthy, I can only assume this one of those “the riches are the friends we gained along the way” things.
Damn it to hell. I don’t need friends. I need dolla, dolla bills y’all.
Their chief weapon is surprise…surprise and fear, fear and surprise. Their two, two weapons…
Pineapple Soft Servius
Jeremiah Johnson, his head nodding
Finally! Sweet oblivion!
I’m sure if this person holds this item high over their head and looks intently up into the hole, the truth will come out and they’ll absolutely find out what it’s about.
Here’s my usual comment about how awesome my 1996 Nissan hardbody pickup was, with its regular cab and 6 foot bed.
I was going to complain, but you’re damned right.
Silence is golden.
Whatever will they all think when I avoid both trends and wear no socks at all?
Probably that my feet stink, I guess.
This is just grounds to have a Squatty Potty at work.
What blows my mind is when stupid shit like this comes back into vogue. I lived through so much cringe the first time, and I loathe doing it all over again.
Not that I’m the height of fashion or anything, myself. If not for my wife, I’d be wearing long white tube socks with my shorts.
This deal is getting worse all the time…
I lurk, comment, and occasionally post. I’m certainly not one of the 20. I’m not sure what that makes me.
I’m reminded of an exchange in an old TV show: