I would like to reiterate an earlier statement that all architects should be shot.
Dear Architect,
Why oh why, in that murky brain of yours, did it seem a clever idea to make your walls at 33 degrees? Were you being ‘fresh’? Quirky? Do you huff glue at lunchtime? Circles have 360 degrees and 33 does not divide well into that number. Hence I have numbers with decimals, great long strings of decimals. Now, my software demands exact sizes to work properly but you try and tell Big Rick in the factory to cut something at 1126.9090901 millimetres. Tell him it’s new, it’s fun, it’s trigonometry. See where that gets you.
You, my misguided friend, have ordered an entire room to be panelled in a particular species of New Guinea hardwood veneer plywood which, apparently, nobody makes anymore. If they ever did. I bet you made it up.
You, my doe eyed apple blossom, have asked for 6 heavy glass-doored overhead cabinets above the granite topped ode to yourself you call a reception desk. You have neglected to notice there are no walls nearby and it’s a 15 foot ceiling. Are they meant to hover? That’s just not practical. The downwash would muss up the receptionist’s hair.
I understand you want to be different, make a statement, but you seem to be retarded. I’m almost certain your mother breast fed you until your late teens. Did she encourage you to be creative? I suppose she couldn’t have known you’d get this far. Hey, you know those guys that round up shopping carts at Safeway? That looks fun, you get a fluorescent vest and everything. You can pretend the carts are a big train whoo-whoo! I bet you like trains, don’t you sunshine?
Promise me you’ll think about it.
Dear Architect,
Why oh why, in that murky brain of yours, did it seem a clever idea to make your walls at 33 degrees? Were you being ‘fresh’? Quirky? Do you huff glue at lunchtime? Circles have 360 degrees and 33 does not divide well into that number. Hence I have numbers with decimals, great long strings of decimals. Now, my software demands exact sizes to work properly but you try and tell Big Rick in the factory to cut something at 1126.9090901 millimetres. Tell him it’s new, it’s fun, it’s trigonometry. See where that gets you.
You, my misguided friend, have ordered an entire room to be panelled in a particular species of New Guinea hardwood veneer plywood which, apparently, nobody makes anymore. If they ever did. I bet you made it up.
You, my doe eyed apple blossom, have asked for 6 heavy glass-doored overhead cabinets above the granite topped ode to yourself you call a reception desk. You have neglected to notice there are no walls nearby and it’s a 15 foot ceiling. Are they meant to hover? That’s just not practical. The downwash would muss up the receptionist’s hair.
I understand you want to be different, make a statement, but you seem to be retarded. I’m almost certain your mother breast fed you until your late teens. Did she encourage you to be creative? I suppose she couldn’t have known you’d get this far. Hey, you know those guys that round up shopping carts at Safeway? That looks fun, you get a fluorescent vest and everything. You can pretend the carts are a big train whoo-whoo! I bet you like trains, don’t you sunshine?
Promise me you’ll think about it.
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