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Ah, yes, the ages old dilemma of a piece of shit function written in-between taking long drags out of a fucking crackpipe being more reliable than the refactored version; how delightful.

Now, they say broken code from cleanup of sketchy bits is better than any working snippet whose reading feels as pleasant as being repeatedly slapped with a decaying rhinoceros testicle sack, but I'll be fucked if I don't __sometimes__ feel like I just *might* prefer eating the maggot soup out of the rotting fucking gonads of deceased male pachydermata than deal with this kind of shit: feet facing backwards and all that.

Ugh. If only I could live my life without everyday feeling like I'm on a pointless quest to slay a mother fucking dragon, where everytime I get to the castle I'm suddenly a mustachioed italian plumber stepping on turtles and my bitch is in another sicillian ghetto. You know, basic shit.

The good thing in seeing these old errors pop up again after my shoddy bandaid of a patch is taken off is that I'm finally experienced enough to realize that my ~ A P P R O A C H ~ was wrong to beg with. And this is VERY nice, because I came in to do some trivial maintenance of forgotten code, and now I have a plan for correcting a very small and silly but definitively annoying as fuck design error.

Why am I so annoyed then? Because it's more and more work, it never fucking ends, and I can't EVER take a break: with apocalypsis incoming, as we have clearly seen in the stars, tea cups, palm readings, crytal balls, ouija boards, and also in the cover of old-school pornographic magazines nailed to the wall of a defunct newspaper kiosk, the fear of economic collapse is somewhat too real to even THINK about any kind of necessary vacation.

And so: fucking shit, here we go again... TIME FOR MORE COFFEE.

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