I fucking love the vernacular of deep canuckistan technical people. Because they know exactly what they are talking about, and by the end, you may not, but you sure do feel what they're talking about.
Like, yes you are correct good sir, You cannot unfuck an egg. And I do agree, that once the egg is fucked, you can't fuck it any worse.
And quite right, that computer was plumbed with ones and zeros until the pixies were let out in a puff of blue smoke.
Why yes, I do believe the fabricobled gas axe is proper hooped, and we may need to pay a wood monkey to finish the job with his electric beaver.
They'll may tell you that you need to hire the services of a pixie wrangler to help you refamulate the cockroaches between the seat and the clickity clacker.
Even when they are saying you need to hire a computer tech to tell you the only bug in your computer is the person sitting in front of it, you know they care.
it's that touch of abusive yet well-meaning flavor.
