2 hours ago · Life · hide · 0 comments

Stop me if you’re Australian and have heard this story before. You find something online you need to purchase. You add it to your trolley, make a payment for the item and the requisite shipping, and wait for the invoice. So far, so good. You then receive a shipping notice and a tracking number, and your heart sinks. You develop a pit in your stomach. The sky turns to grey, and you hear what sounds like thunder in the distance. The V60 coffee you brewed comes out sour. Your packages install with unmet dependencies. Your residential PPPoE stops PPPoE’ing. You slip on a banana peel. Your memory leaks. You weren’t running ZFS, and now have to do an fsck(8) after an unclean shutdown. Because the tracking number was supplied: by Aramex. DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN! ☕︎ ☕︎ ☕︎ Now if you’re not from here, Aramex might sound like a delightful chain of central American-themed restaurants. I could really go for an Aramex veggie burrito right now, and don’t hold the Tapatío. Or maybe not. Because…

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