Bin Finance

Fuck me, I'm worried that naughty hackers are listening to the clicks of my mouse to see what I'm doing. I've ditched the mechanical keyboard in case they could hear me typing my passwords with the joyless cadence of a depressed sloth.

You see, security wears you down and wears you out.

New ISO protocol? Lovely, another little flame of enjoyment in my work flickering out. I'm lucky if a minor change to my estate doesn't need sign-off from some corporate conveyancing solicitor.

Want to update a container? Well, better sign away your firstborn in case your service goes down for a few milliseconds!

But I see the fault is mine now. I chose this life, mooching about, drained, a long-since-burnt-out techie.

What I should have actually done to avoid such stresses is become an engineer looking after billions of fucking pounds worth of crypto assets.

Those cunts don't give a fuck, do they?

Laptop? Smash top. Hey, Kim Jong Un, I don't know if you're alive or not, but here's my laptop. Go fucking nuts.

Crypto? Future of Finance. Fucking wonderful!