In light of the recent post by papacock, and being all secret squirrel shit, it go tme to thinking. I mentioned that post to the wife this morning, and her comment was something to the effect of "Some people just feel the need to be something more than what they are in real life." I replied something like "Yeah, most people don't seem to realize even the Tier 1 guys still have the mundane shit to do in life, like mow the grass, pull splinters from their kids thumb, pick up dog shit out of the yard, etc.".
So, I gotta ask you guys, what's on your SSSS today?
Today, my mission (if I choose to accept it) is...
...replacing more sprinkler heads on the home irrigation system (the bane of the suburban home owner).
May have to use my special secret squirrel club training to low crawl across the lawn, use by teflon coated e-tool to carefully remove the soil around the sprinkler heads (special mine field clearing training at it's best), and carefully exchange the broken head for a new one (that's where my SUPER secret nuclear bomb EOD training will come in handy). Then of course, I'll have to exfil back to the FOB chow hall (aka...the kitchen) for a medically urgent replenishment of glucose laden carbs via a top secret, super secret special chemical cocktail (aka...a beer). That's about it for me on this Sunday, how about you guys?
Boy, this super spy shit is exhausting...but I got this, 'cause, well, I'm a super duper secret squirrel spy dude, cross trained in a wide variety of eclectic shit.
So, I gotta ask you guys, what's on your SSSS today?
Today, my mission (if I choose to accept it) is...
...replacing more sprinkler heads on the home irrigation system (the bane of the suburban home owner).
May have to use my special secret squirrel club training to low crawl across the lawn, use by teflon coated e-tool to carefully remove the soil around the sprinkler heads (special mine field clearing training at it's best), and carefully exchange the broken head for a new one (that's where my SUPER secret nuclear bomb EOD training will come in handy). Then of course, I'll have to exfil back to the FOB chow hall (aka...the kitchen) for a medically urgent replenishment of glucose laden carbs via a top secret, super secret special chemical cocktail (aka...a beer). That's about it for me on this Sunday, how about you guys?
Boy, this super spy shit is exhausting...but I got this, 'cause, well, I'm a super duper secret squirrel spy dude, cross trained in a wide variety of eclectic shit.