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It’s the Friday before Christmas, and your humble narrator is sat at home in her freezing flat (which she thinks is something to do with a combination of the
floorboards going straight to the foundations and a ventilation grate) wrapped in a blanket, logged into her company network waiting for a new thing to be ready so she can do another thing with it, which she really really wants to get done before finishing for Christmas because it’s been months and it’d be nice not to have to think about it for a while. One of her friends is also logged on late, and through the magic of the company’s internal messaging system they start to chat. She asks him the provenance of a document he’s just sent over and he gets her to make a PDF, because she has the magic PDF software. And then he recommends that she look up David O’Doherty, a comedian he thinks she’d really like. And she thanks him, goes off to have her dinner because it’s now 7.30pm and it’s late enough, frankly, and then she comes back and logs onto YouTube.
And laughs her ass off.
A Christmas present for you, my dear friends of the Internet.