A filtered me

I spent part of this weekend with some brilliant and accomplished technologists baking the strategy for products and services that have the potential to change the world. I love what I do, and there are moments when I feel guilty that I get paid for this. Yet, because the nature of my job often requires anonymity, and even if you did know for whom I worked, I couldn't delve into the substance of my projects, I can never use this public space to speak concerning that about which I am most passionate.

Turns out I am not alone in this regard. Some of the same folks with whom I was working this weekend were similarly lamenting the conflict presented by working in confidence while publishing. We agreed that it certainly skews the content of our blogs away from covering what is really on our minds most of the day. Yet, at the same time, I refuse to let this space evolve into some kind of diary that chronicles my recent surfing exploits or with whom we had pork chops. For now, thank goodness Bush continues to inspire enough vitriol to keep me typing.

Comments

[Chester]

But pork chops taste good! Post about bacon. Bacon tastes good!

[Molly]

Chester is right, don't forget the little things.

[Chester]

Dude, you need to update. If you need, I'll go out to dinner with you so you can write about cuts of meat.

[ben]

You freakish dork!
Enjoyed lunch on Tuesday.
Ben

[abercrombie & fitch london]

I read this sentence out loud to a group of engineers from my team at lunch the other day and they cracked up like I did. It touched off such a wave of nostalgia for the first machines we all used and when we first discovered the Internet. We all felt so old and yet so lucky.

[abercrombie fitch]

It is hard to say such a thing is clear.

[abercrombiemilano]

Love is a feeling, not only on the material to meet, but also to the spiritual care and stick
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[vibram.us]

And you have sorrow and happiness day like the sea, I rushed in front of the loud cries of "you are always me!" At that moment my heart affects my entire Mens Vibram Fivefingers Sprint shoes green/blue/greypulse, I even can't hear my heartbeat, beating the so fierce, I tried to calm himself that the great happiness, feel oneself is like heaven bird fly, I am willing to stay in this life, even if the heaven, even in cold under populated behind the smiles, with warm hands deliberately to cover ears "hear, hear..."

[gucci.uk]

They plan to get married, but still don't have his house. In order to let her own soon have a warm home; he kept her use of night time outside part-time bar waitress. Nature is very hard, but because of her, he felt how hard is valuable. That year the Valentine’s Day, they finally paid the house first. He happily on bicycle to take her to see her in the house, behind a bunch of keys "jingle", crispy metallic sounds like a bunch of musical beat all the bells, cheerful note. Passing flower, delicate and charming be about to drip rose burning passion, the festival of bashful girl holding the roses and bright eye infections of the boys they pleased. She couldn't help that he ran into the shop, stop heartsease’s delight. He knew her mind, pick a bunch of red roses. She hurried beside him to stop, pull the corner: "we buy in the basin aloe new house, still can raise yam?"

[skytop supra]

We agreed that it certainly skews the content of our blogs away from covering what is really on our minds most of the day.

[cheap jordans]

Here, here Conrad. It would be a brave thing if more men had the courage to stand up for their women. I sure wouldn't mind the help. Its a difficult decision though because it could turn a pleasent afternoon for you into a black eye.