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Owing to a glut of pertinent birthdays, this is the third consecutive PN e-mail I've composed, all between projects at work. You're killing me, people. I give and give and give, and there will soon be naught left but a shell of a man with a half-empty beer in his RSI-riddled hand.
I do have to keep going this time, though, as this week's un-birthday celebrant is Dan Boland. Very clever of him to delay his birthday just long enough for me to catch up to him. But he's crafty like that. Dan's once again taking us to Lederhosen, the beer hall where cheap imported lager is served in liter mugs, cheaper sausage is sold on big crusty rolls, and no one is allowed to mention the war.
See you there!
-Mike, the Triumvirate, and Dan