Slashdot Mirror
Comdex 2001 Coverage With a Handheld Twist
Phillip M. Torrone writes: "Gosh folks, a thousand words couldn't describe how great Comdex 2001 was this year for me. But, about 300 pictures may help. Your pal pt from flashenabled.com/mobile has it all. Memory stick and SD GPS units, Cameras, Microwaves and Bluetooth; The new Sharp Linux PDA with keyboard; Bluetooth everything, Pocket PCs, Sony robot dogs, Sony Ericsson and Nokia phones, Windows XP, Xbox, Merecedes Benz test drives, Klingons, the Strip, virtual keyboards, DoCoMo, Harry Potter and more. The coverage is almost as good as being there."
- I throw rocks at retarded kids
"Adequacy.org: Where congenital stupidity is not an option, but a requirement."
Hello, as an experienced MCSE, I have worked with many systems before for different corporations, and although I find linux to be a suitable server OS, there are many problems that have to be addressed before it will be able to compete with windows in the desktop world. Here are some suggestions I have come up with that will help linux become more competitive.
1) Remove the bloat. Most linux distro's ship with way to many useless programs. Desktop users do not need 10 different text editors. Give them one or two good ones and that will be enough.
2) Dump the command line. Desktop users do not use command lines. Windows is light-years ahead in this regard. Even their server OS has a great gui, and it is not necessary to use the command line. Linux needs to follow Microsoft's lead and get rid of the command line. You could maybe include an option for advanced users, like how windowsXP has an ms-dos prompt, if you really want to use it.
3) Dump open-source. Normal desktop users do not care about source code, they care about good programs. They do not want to compile anything. Linux needs real companies that actually know how to make good interfaces. Right now they are few and far between.
4) A universal gui system. Linux needs ONE gui. Perhaps people should focus on developing KDE into a competitive platform. Forget about gnome and everything else.
5) Make upgrading the software easier. Desktop users need an easy way to upgrade the kernel.
6) Get a good web browser. Linux has no good web browsers right now. Netscape is old and bloated. Opera cost extra and lacks some features. Mozilla is still beta and isn't even up to version 1.0 yet, so it doesn't count. Linux needs a browser that is competitive with IE, and right now IE is light-years ahead of anything for linux.
7) Proper office programs. If you want Linux to be used in offices, you need decent applications. These programs should be able to import all MS formats, past and present. Microsoft is still light years ahead when it comes to their office programs.
8) Backward compatibility. WindowsXP can run dos programs, windows 3.11 programs, windows9x programs, windowsNT programs, ect... Linux is barely backward compatible.
Right now I would recommend windowsXP for any sensible desktop user. Linux is still too complicated and fragmented to appeal to the typical user. Perhaps in a few years time they will be on par with windows, and a few people may try it.
The Slashdot Effect: A new for
I'm glad Harry Potter got press at Comdex. Sorta gives new meaning to the term "automagically," doesn't it?
I like the way little boys feel. I need some gay pedophile sex now!
WIL WHEATON DOT NET
THE OFFICIAL TACO-SNOTTING FAQ
By The WIPO Troll, $Revision: 1.8 $
What is "Taco-snotting?"
Good Lord. Why have I been receiving emails from CmdrTaco asking me if he can Taco-snot me?
I can't stop receiving these emails from CmdrTaco!?
What is a "Circle-snot"?
Eww. Have you ever been Taco-Snotted?
That's horrible. Does "Taco-snotting" have anything to do with CmdrTaco's "special taco"?
Does Jon Katz get involved in any of this? I thought he was a paedophile, not a homosexual.
What's that screaming I hear coming from your basement?
No, thanks. I'm already CmdrTaco's boi toi.
________________________________________
READER COMMENTS
by Big_Ass_Spork on 2001.11.18 4:53 (#2580300)
I do it wrong
Laying here in the shadows of my room, I squint up at my love. My Ms. Portman. I am sore and tired after fucking her for eight solid hours. My chapped and aching dick is soaking in grits to relieve the pain. She gets on her knees and starts lapping the grits up out of the bowl. She places her beautiful hands on my penis and starts to lick the grits off my achy piece.
Massaging my nutsack she....
WAIT, I DO IT WRONG!!!!
Yanking my dick out of her mouth I throw her to the ground and shove it in to her gaping freshly fisted ass. [goatse.cx]
"OH BIG ASS SPORK!! Fuck my ass, fuck my ass good. DEEPER, my stallion, deeper!! Make a Beowulf cluster of sperm on my back!!"
"Imagine a Beowulf cluster of this baby!"
I DO IT WRONG!!!!
---
All your Sporks are belong to Big_Ass_Spork! What you say?! All your Sporks are belo... forget it...
by j0nkatz on 2001.11.17 22:54 (#2579596)
I just heard some sad news on the radio -- famous queerbait Rob Malda was found dead in his Holland home this morning. The details were a bit hazy, but it seems that he drowned in jizz while Taco Snotting his friend Hemos. I'm sure everyone in the
I wanna Open Source sex so it won't be worth a shit either.
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.15 6:38 (#2567601)
No no no, the correct term for that is "donkey-punch". I have eye-witnessed this amazing eye-popping event demonstrated on unsuspecting hose-monsters by my frat brothers in the past.. .
by AbsoluteRelativity on 2001.11.15 5:31 (#2567457)
The WIPO Troll
Slashdot and the Karma Lottery - News for uber monkeys, by uber monkeys.
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.13 9:27 (#2557632)
Oh, man that's just sick !
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.13 9:03 (#2557604)
TELL ME WHERE I CAN GET AN ANONYMOUS proxy please WIPO Troll. Maybe later i will join you in a snotting at my place.
by vikool on 2001.11.13 7:43 (#2557495)
what is this bull shit,i feel offened that some people feel so so senseless to post stuff like these esp when such a tragic incident has occured
by I.T.R.A.R.K. on 2001.11.11 22:38 (#2551890)
Where the fuck do I sign up?!
- I throw rocks at retarded kids
"Adequacy.org: Where congenital stupidity is not an option, but a requirement."
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.11 21:53 (#2551753)
this shit is hilarious..keep up the good work.
by rockwood on 2001.11.11 21:49 (#2551746)
OMG! That is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard! WHo in their right mind would sit down and waste the time to construct such a replusive story. I guess I'll be skipping lunch and dinner today.. and possibly tomorrow also. The game doesn't affect reality. Reality affects the game.
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.11 14:43 (#2550701)
dude, this is crap-flood material if i ever saw it.
duuuuuuuuudddddddddddddeeeeeeeee.
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.11 8:16 (#2550266)
horny_rob_6969@hotmail.com
Ah, so that's what the alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.horny-rob newsgroup is about!
by egg troll on 2001.11.11 5:34 (#2550024)
+5, Arousing
For more info check out this
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.11 4:39 (#2549891)
WINNER>
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.11 4:37 (#2549887)
I love you. Why do you use your bitchslapped account, rather than signing up for a new account to post at +1 before getting bitchslapped by the censors here? I guess I should speak for myself, but I don't want to log out and lose all my slashdot customization properties, nor do I want to lose my 50 karma yet.
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.09 9:19 (#2542412)
you fucking rock! right down to the expanded cvs id!
WIPO trolls > linux
________________________________________
J. Wipo Troll, Esq.
Crapflooder Associates
Slashdot.org
a thousand words couldn't describe
Jon Katz would have tried...
I do it wrong
Rosie O'Donnel is a fat piece of ham...Laying here in the shadows of my room, I squint up at my love. My Ms. Portman. I am sore and tired after fucking her for eight solid hours. My chapped and aching dick is soaking in grits to relieve the pain. She gets on her knees and starts lapping the grits up out of the bowl. She places her beautiful hands on my penis and starts to lick the grits off my achy piece.
Massaging my nutsack she....
WAIT, I DO IT WRONG!!!!
Yanking my dick out of her mouth I throw her to the ground and shove it in to her gaping freshly fisted ass. [goatse.cx]
"OH BIG ASS SPORK!! Fuck my ass, fuck my ass good. DEEPER, my stallion, deeper!! Make a Beowulf cluster of sperm on my back!!"
"Imagine a Beowulf cluster of this baby!"
I DO IT WRONG!!!!
I continue to hump her alabaster form. Glistening with beads of sweat, she bites her lip in delight as I tear her ass open with my engorged dick.
"Queen Amidala!!" I shreik as I near climax.
She looks up at me and screams, "You are so alive in me, unlike *BSD or VA Software!!! Fill me with seed!! Yes, Yes, Yess!!!!"
"For me you are calling, hhhmmm?"
"YODA?!? What the fuck, can't you see I am using the force here?"
He savagely kicks my Natalie aside, he pulls out his large green penis and impales me...
I DO IT WRONG!!
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
JonKatz likes to suck on little boys weewees
Again with my unnatural need to reply to Wil Wheaton's posts...
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
All 300 thumbnails on the same page ?!?
You're just begging for a slashdotting aren't you. Does your ISP have its bandwidth ready?
Is this the real coverage of comdex? wheres redhat etc? Anyone know where i can get non handheldified coverage of comdex?
Microsoft IIS is to webserving as KFC is to healthy eating
Stop following me around, stalker. I only do little boys, not idiot old men like you. Leave me the fuck alone, pervert. You're every bit as annoying as spork_testicle.
WIL WHEATON DOT NET
I do it wrong
Rosie O'Donnel is a fat piece of ham...Laying here in the shadows of my room, I squint up at my love. My Ms. Portman. I am sore and tired after fucking her for eight solid hours. My chapped and aching dick is soaking in grits to relieve the pain. She gets on her knees and starts lapping the grits up out of the bowl. She places her beautiful hands on my penis and starts to lick the grits off my achy piece.
Massaging my nutsack she....
WAIT, I DO IT WRONG!!!!
Yanking my dick out of her mouth I throw her to the ground and shove it in to her gaping freshly fisted ass. [goatse.cx]
"OH BIG ASS SPORK!! Fuck my ass, fuck my ass good. DEEPER, my stallion, deeper!! Make a Beowulf cluster of sperm on my back!!"
"Imagine a Beowulf cluster of this baby!"
I DO IT WRONG!!!!
I continue to hump her alabaster form. Glistening with beads of sweat, she bites her lip in delight as I tear her ass open with my engorged dick.
"Queen Amidala!!" I shreik as I near climax.
She looks up at me and screams, "You are so alive in me, unlike *BSD or VA Software!!! Fill me with seed!! Yes, Yes, Yess!!!!"
"For me you are calling, hhhmmm?"
"YODA?!? What the fuck, can't you see I am using the force here?"
He savagely kicks my Natalie aside, he pulls out his large green penis and impales me...
I DO IT WRONG!!
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
Correction: The coverage is almost as good as being there assuming you have broadband to d/l the 300+ photos.
Otherwise, the coverage is as good as being there but being forced to move around the convention floor in a powered wheelchain that has a 0.3 m/s speed limit. Sigh. Hopefully they're showing something that can extend wireless broadband reliably to where they'd never set up DSL or fiber. Does anyone with broadband see anything like this?
Imagine a Beowulf cluster of these...
This is a goddamn reply!
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
Stop stalking me, spork_testicle wannabe.
WIL WHEATON DOT NET
I do it wrong
Rosie O'Donnel is a fat piece of ham...Laying here in the shadows of my room, I squint up at my love. My Ms. Portman. I am sore and tired after fucking her for eight solid hours. My chapped and aching dick is soaking in grits to relieve the pain. She gets on her knees and starts lapping the grits up out of the bowl. She places her beautiful hands on my penis and starts to lick the grits off my achy piece.
Massaging my nutsack she....
WAIT, I DO IT WRONG!!!!
Yanking my dick out of her mouth I throw her to the ground and shove it in to her gaping freshly fisted ass. [goatse.cx]
"OH BIG ASS SPORK!! Fuck my ass, fuck my ass good. DEEPER, my stallion, deeper!! Make a Beowulf cluster of sperm on my back!!"
"Imagine a Beowulf cluster of this baby!"
I DO IT WRONG!!!!
I continue to hump her alabaster form. Glistening with beads of sweat, she bites her lip in delight as I tear her ass open with my engorged dick.
"Queen Amidala!!" I shreik as I near climax.
She looks up at me and screams, "You are so alive in me, unlike *BSD or VA Software!!! Fill me with seed!! Yes, Yes, Yess!!!!"
"For me you are calling, hhhmmm?"
"YODA?!? What the fuck, can't you see I am using the force here?"
He savagely kicks my Natalie aside, he pulls out his large green penis and impales me...
I DO IT WRONG!!
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
Please explain this picture
Thank you.
---
http://slashdot.org/moderation.shtml
Man, I was bummed out by comdex this year. Where was the cool Linux business expo that there was last year? Granted, Linux International was there, and I got my picture taken with John Maddog, but I was disapointed.
Any attendees present? How was the secuirty? Was it lax, or was it long lines and metal-detectors galore?
I thought they prohibited everything on the show floor including bags, cameras, laptops, PDAs, and other tech toys.
Or is this a case of what they put in writing is just CYA, and not what they actually do?
Help me. I have a stalker, with the name Big_Ass_Spork. I'd like to lose this idiot. I'm up for suggestions if you have any. Thanks.
WIL WHEATON DOT NET
Oh why don't I go your route, call me Leonard_Nimoy_Spork.
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
Shutup, spork_testicle wannabe. plz die. kthx.
WIL WHEATON DOT NET
..or did Michael Sims just "accidentally" crash the db?
WIL WHEATON DOT NET
A pocket PC advert? 300 pics of junk? What a waste of pixels.
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
and just to defeat the fucking lameness filter..
WIL WHEATON DOT NET
with being such a cocksmoker and all its no suprise the db crashes almost daily. it makes me wonder what crashed too. did the box lock up or did mysql just die? i'd seriously like to know. i bet win2k datacenter could handle this with no problem.
Only the State obtains its revenue by coercion. - Murray Rothbard
The page you are looking for is currently unavailable. The Web site might be experiencing technical difficulties, or you may need to adjust your browser settings.
Please try the following:
- Click the Refresh button, or try again later.
- If you typed the page address in the Address bar, make sure that it is spelled correctly.
- To check your connection settings, click the Tools menu, and then click Internet Options. On the Connections tab, click Settings. The settings should match those provided by your local area network (LAN) administrator or Internet service provider (ISP).
- If your Network Administrator has enabled it, Microsoft Windows can examine your network and automatically discover network connection settings.
- Some sites require 128-bit connection security. Click the Help menu and then click About Internet Explorer to determine what strength security you have installed.
- If you are trying to reach a secure site, make sure your Security settings can support it. Click the Tools menu, and then click Internet Options. On the Advanced tab, scroll to the Security section and check settings for SSL 2.0, SSL 3.0, TLS 1.0, PCT 1.0.
- Click the Back button to try another link.
Cannot find server or DNS ErrorIf you would like Windows to try and discover them,
click Detect Network Settings
Internet Explorer
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
and just to defeat the fucking lameness filter..
WIL WHEATON DOT NET
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- ANOTHER ICE CORRIDOR
A familiar stream of beeps and whistles herald the approach of Artoo-Detoo and See-Threepio, who appear around a corner and move along an ice wall toward the main hangar.
THREEPIO: Don't try to blame me. I didn't ask you to turn on the thermal heater. I merely commented that it was freezing in the princess's chamber. But it's supposed to be freezing. How are we going to dry out all her clothes? I really don't know.
Artoo beeps a stream of protesting whistles.
THREEPIO: Oh, switch off.
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGAR DECK
The two robots stop at Han Solo's space freighter. Han and Chewie are struggling with their central lifters.
HAN: (to Chewie) Why do you take this apart now? I'm trying to get us out of here and you pull both of these.
Chewie grumbles in irritation.
THREEPIO: Excuse me, sir.
HAN: (to Chewie) Put them back together right now.
THREEPIO: Might I have a word with you, please?
HAN: What do you want?
THREEPIO: Well, it's Princess Leia, sir. She's been trying to get you on the communicator.
HAN: I turned it off. I don't want to talk to her.
THREEPIO: Oh. Well, Princess Leia is wondering about Master Luke. He hasn't come back yet. She doesn't know where he is.
HAN: I don't know where he is.
THREEPIO: Nobody knows where he is.
HAN: What do you mean, "nobody knows"?
Han glances at the fading light at the entrance of the ice cave as night slowly begins to fall on the planet.
THREEPIO: Well, uh, you see...
Han jumps down off the lift, as Threepio follows him.
HAN: Deck Officer. Deck Officer!
THREEPIO: Excuse me, sir. Might I inqu-...
Han abruptly puts his hand over Threepio's mouth as the deck officer approaches.
DECK OFFICER: Yes, sir?
HAN: Do you know where Commander Skywalker is?
DECK OFFICER: I haven't seen him. It's possible he came in through the south entrance.
HAN: It's possible? Why don't you go find out? It's getting dark out there.
DECK OFFICER: Yes, sir.
The deck officer leaves hurriedly, as Han takes his hand off Threepio's mouth.
THREEPIO: Excuse me, sir. Might I inquire what's going on?
HAN: Why not?
THREEPIO: Impossible man. Come along, Artoo, lets find Princess Leia. Between ourselves, I think Master Luke is in considerable danger.
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- MAIN ICE TUNNEL
The deck officer and his assistant hurry toward Han as he enters the tunnel.
DECK OFFICER: Sir, Commander Skywalker hasn't come in through the south entrance. He might have forgotten to check in.
HAN: Not likely. Are the speeders ready?
DECK OFFICER: Not yet. We're having some trouble adapting them to the cold.
HAN: Then we'll have to go out on Tauntauns.
DECK OFFICER: Sir, the temperature's dropping too rapidly.
HAN: That's right. And my friends out in it.
ASSISTANT OFFICER: I'll cover sector twelve. Have com-control set screen alpha.
Han pushes through the troops and mounts a Tauntaun.
DECK OFFICER: Your Tauntaun'll freeze before you reach the first marker.
HAN: Then I'll see you in hell!
Han maneuvers his mount out of the cave and races into the dark bitter night.
I do it wrong
Rosie O'Donnel is a fat piece of ham, as is Wil Wheaton...Laying here in the shadows of my room, I squint up at my love. My Ms. Portman. I am sore and tired after fucking her for eight solid hours. My chapped and aching dick is soaking in grits to relieve the pain. She gets on her knees and starts lapping the grits up out of the bowl. She places her beautiful hands on my penis and starts to lick the grits off my achy piece.
Massaging my nutsack she....
WAIT, I DO IT WRONG!!!!
Yanking my dick out of her mouth I throw her to the ground and shove it in to her gaping freshly fisted ass. [goatse.cx]
"OH BIG ASS SPORK!! Fuck my ass, fuck my ass good. DEEPER, my stallion, deeper!! Make a Beowulf cluster of sperm on my back!!"
"Imagine a Beowulf cluster of this baby!"
I DO IT WRONG!!!!
I continue to hump her alabaster form. Glistening with beads of sweat, she bites her lip in delight as I tear her ass open with my engorged dick.
"Queen Amidala!!" I shreik as I near climax.
She looks up at me and screams, "You are so alive in me, unlike *BSD or VA Software!!! Fill me with seed!! Yes, Yes, Yess!!!!"
"For me you are calling, hhhmmm?"
"YODA?!? What the fuck, can't you see I am using the force here?"
He savagely kicks my Natalie aside, he pulls out his large green penis and impales me...
I DO IT WRONG!!
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
I do it wrong
Rosie O'Donnel is a fat piece of ham, as is Wil Wheaton...Laying here in the shadows of my room, I squint up at my love. My Ms. Portman. I am sore and tired after fucking her for eight solid hours. My chapped and aching dick is soaking in grits to relieve the pain. She gets on her knees and starts lapping the grits up out of the bowl. She places her beautiful hands on my penis and starts to lick the grits off my achy piece.
Massaging my nutsack she....
WAIT, I DO IT WRONG!!!!
Yanking my dick out of her mouth I throw her to the ground and shove it in to her gaping freshly fisted ass. [goatse.cx]
"OH BIG ASS SPORK!! Fuck my ass, fuck my ass good. DEEPER, my stallion, deeper!! Make a Beowulf cluster of sperm on my back!!"
"Imagine a Beowulf cluster of this baby!"
I DO IT WRONG!!!!
I continue to hump her alabaster form. Glistening with beads of sweat, she bites her lip in delight as I tear her ass open with my engorged dick.
"Queen Amidala!!" I shreik as I near climax.
She looks up at me and screams, "You are so alive in me, unlike *BSD or VA Software!!! Fill me with seed!! Yes, Yes, Yess!!!!"
"For me you are calling, hhhmmm?"
"YODA?!? What the fuck, can't you see I am using the force here?"
He savagely kicks my Natalie aside, he pulls out his large green penis and impales me...
I DO IT WRONG!!
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
I do it wrong
Rosie O'Donnel is a fat piece of ham, as is Wil Wheaton...Laying here in the shadows of my room, I squint up at my love. My Ms. Portman. I am sore and tired after fucking her for eight solid hours. My chapped and aching dick is soaking in grits to relieve the pain. She gets on her knees and starts lapping the grits up out of the bowl. She places her beautiful hands on my penis and starts to lick the grits off my achy piece.
Massaging my nutsack she....
WAIT, I DO IT WRONG!!!!
Yanking my dick out of her mouth I throw her to the ground and shove it in to her gaping freshly fisted ass. [goatse.cx]
"OH BIG ASS SPORK!! Fuck my ass, fuck my ass good. DEEPER, my stallion, deeper!! Make a Beowulf cluster of sperm on my back!!"
"Imagine a Beowulf cluster of this baby!"
I DO IT WRONG!!!!
I continue to hump her alabaster form. Glistening with beads of sweat, she bites her lip in delight as I tear her ass open with my engorged dick.
"Queen Amidala!!" I shreik as I near climax.
She looks up at me and screams, "You are so alive in me, unlike *BSD or VA Software!!! Fill me with seed!! Yes, Yes, Yess!!!!"
"For me you are calling, hhhmmm?"
"YODA?!? What the fuck, can't you see I am using the force here?"
He savagely kicks my Natalie aside, he pulls out his large green penis and impales me...
I DO IT WRONG!!
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
This is an important warning to all slashdotters. CmdrTaco has been luring people (mainly underage males) into the slashdot compound to eat his "special taco".
You may be wondering what CmdrTaco's "special taco" is. You will be wishing that you hadn't been wondering after you finish reading his post. To make his "special taco", CmdrTaco takes a taco shell and shits on it. He then adds lettuce, jacks off on the taco, and adds a compound to make the person who eats the taco unconcious. Of course, the compound does not make the person unconcous until the taco is fully eaten. Thus CmdrTaco force feeds the taco to the unsuspecting victim.
After the victim is unconcous, he is held against his will and used for CmdrTaco's nefarious sexual purposes. This includes shoving taco shells up the victim's ass, taco snotting, and getting JonKatz involved. Trust me, you do not want JonKatz anywhere near your unconcious body. Also, rumor has it CmdrTaco is looking for a new goatse.cx guy. Don't let it be you!!!!!
Please, if CmdrTaco offers you his "special taco", RUN LIKE HELL!!!!!!!!
Digital Divide? The only divide Linux can bridge is the crack of my ass, when I use it to wipe my ass clean.
Nobody gives a flying fuck that you do it wrong. That is fucking old and lame. Get original material you spastic hell.
WIL WHEATON DOT NET
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE GORGE -- DUSK
...but it will keep you warm...til I get the shelter built. (struggling to get Luke in the carcass) Ooh...I thought they smelled bad on the outside!
The jagged face of a huge ice wall sits gloomily in the dim twilight of a Hoth day. Luke hangs upside down, ankles frozen into icy stalactites, his extended arms within a foot of the snow floor. One side of his face is covered in a dried mask of frozen blood. He opens his eyes as a chilling moan of the hideous ice creature echoes off the gorge walls. Luke pulls himself up, grabs hold of his ankles, and futilely tries to unfasten the throngs. Exhausted, he drops back into his hanging position. As he hangs there, he spies his lightsaber lying near a pile of his discarded gear, about three feet out of reach. He focuses on the saber and, as his hand strains toward the weapon, he squeezes his eyes tight in concentration. Just as the ice creature looms over Luke, the lightsaber jumps into Luke's hand. The young warrior instantly ignites his sword, swinging up, and cuts himself loose from the ice. He flops to the snow in a heap. The startled creature moves back, his giant yellow eyes blinking. Luke scrambles to his feet. He swings his lightsaber and the beast screams in pain.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ENTRANCE TO ICE GORGE -- DUSK
Luke staggers out of the gorge into the dark and snowy twilight. Weak and exhausted, he stumbles down a snow bank.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- SNOW PLAIN -- DUSK
A small, lone figure riding a Tauntaun races through the hostile vastness of snow and cold. As it runs, the Tauntaun's legs kick up large clouds of snow and ice into the snowy air.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- OUTSIDE ICE HANGAR -- DUSK
Artoo stands in the falling snow, beeping worriedly. Threepio moves stiffly over to him.
THREEPIO: You must come along now, Artoo. There's really nothing more we can do. And my joints are freezing up.
Artoo beeps, long and low.
THREEPIO: Don't say thing like that! Of course we'll see Master Luke again. He'll be quite all right, you'll see. (to himself) Stupid little short-circuit. He'll be quite all right.
Threepio turns to go back inside the main hangar as Artoo mournfully keeps his vigil.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- SNOW DRIFT -- DUSK
The wind is blowing quite strong now. Luke struggles to stay upright, but a blast of freezing snow knocks him over. He struggles to get up, but he can't. The young warrior from Tatooine drags himself a couple of feet and then collapses.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGAR DECK -- ENTRANCE -- NIGHT
Princess Leia stands inside the dark entrance to the Rebel base, waiting for a sign of the two Rebel heroes. She shivers in the cold wind as, nearby, Chewie sits with his head in his hands. In the background, Artoo and Threepio move through the doors. A Rebel lieutenant moves to Major Derlin, an officer keeping watch with the princess.
LIEUTENANT: Sir, all the patrols are in. There's still no contact from Skywalker or Solo.
THREEPIO: Mistress Leia, Artoo says he's been quite unable to pick up any signals, although he does admit that his own range is far too weak to abandon all hope.
Leia nods an acknowledgment, but she is lost in thought.
DERLIN: Your Highness, there's nothing more we can do tonight. The shield doors must be closed.
He turns to the lieutenant.
DERLIN: Close the doors.
LIEUTENANT: Yes, sir.
The lieutenant walks away. Chewie lets out a long, mournful howl, somewhat like a coyote. At the same moment, Artoo begins a complex series of efficient beeps.
THREEPIO: Artoo says the chances of survival are seven hundred seventy-five...to one.
Leia stands praying to herself as the huge metal doors slam across the entrance of the ice cave. The loud booms echo throughout the huge cavern. Chewie lets out another suffering howl.
THREEPIO: Actually, Artoo has been known to make mistakes...from time to time. Oh, dear, oh, dear. Don't worry about Master Luke. I'm sure he'll be all right. He's quite clever, you know...for a human being.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- SNOW DRIFT -- DUSK
Luke lies face down in the snow, nearly unconscious. Slowly he looks up and sees Ben Kenobi, barely visible through the blowing snow. It is hard to tell if Kenobi is real or a hallucination.
BEN: Luke...Luke.
LUKE: (weakly) Ben?
BEN: You will go to the Dagobah system.
LUKE: Dagobah system?
BEN: There you will learn from Yoda, the Jedi Master who instructed me.
The image of Ben fades, revealing a lone Tauntaun rider approaching from the windswept horizon.
LUKE: (groaning faintly) Ben...Ben.
Luke drops into unconsciousness. Han pulls up and leaps off his mount. He hurries to his snow-covered friend, cradling him in his arms. Han's Tauntaun lets out a low, pitiful bellow. But Han's concern is with Luke, and he shakes him urgently.
HAN: Luke! Luke! Don't do this, Luke. Come on, give me a sign here.
Luke doesn't respond. Han begins frantically rubbing and slapping Luke's unconscious face. As he starts to lift the youth, Han hears a rasping sound behind him. He turns, just in time to see his Tauntaun stagger and then fall over into the snow. Han carries Luke to the moaning beast. Then, with a final groan, the Tauntaun expires.
HAN: Not much time.
He pushes Luke's inert form against the belly of the dead beast.
LUKE: (moaning) Ben...Ben...
HAN: Hang on, kid.
LUKE: Dagobah system...
Han ignites Luke's saber and cuts the beast from head to toe. He quickly tosses it's steaming innards into the snow, then lifts Luke's inert form and stuffs him inside the carcass.
HAN: (reeling from the odor) Whew...
LUKE: Dagobah...
HAN: This may smell bad, kid...
LUKE: (moaning) Yoda...
HAN:
The wind has picked up considerably, making it difficult to move. Han removes a pack from the dead creature's back, taking out a shelter container. He begins to set up what can only be a pitiful protection against a bitter Hoth night.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- SNOWDRIFT -- DAWN
Four snub-nosed armored snowspeeders race across the white landscape.
INTERIOR: SNOWSPEEDER COCKPIT
There is only one pilot, Zev, in the enclosed two-man craft. He concentrates on the scopes which ring his cockpit. He hears a low beep from one of his monitors.
ZEV: (into transmitter) Echo Base...I've got something! Not much, but it could be a life form.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- SNOWDRIFT
The small craft banks and makes a slow arc, then races off in a new direction.
INTERIOR: SNOWSPEEDER -- COCKPIT
The pilot switches over to a new transmitter.
ZEV: (into transmitter) This is Rouge Two. this is Rouge Two. Captain Solo, so you copy? Commander Skywalker, do you copy? This is Rouge Two.
There is a sharp crackle of static, then a faint voice.
HAN: (filtered over Zev's receiver) Good morning. Nice of you guys to drop by.
ZEV: (switching transmitters) Echo Base...this is Rouge Two. I found them. Repeat, I found them.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- SNOWDRIFT -- DAY
The small shelter Han set up is covered with snow on the windward side. A makeshift antenna rests gingerly on top the snowdrift. Han spots Zev's snowspeeder approaching in the distance, and begins waving his arms frantically at the tiny craft.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- MEDICAL CENTER
Strange robot surgeons adjust a mass of electronic equipment. A switch is thrown and a sudden blinding flash obscures Luke in a bacta tank filled with a thick, gelatinous slime. He begins to thrash about, raving in delirium.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- MEDICAL CENTER -- RECOVERY ROOM
Luke sits up in a recovery-room bed, weak but smiling. His face shows terrible wounds from the Wampa's attack. Threepio and Artoo enter the room.
THREEPIO: Master Luke, sir, it's good to see you fully functional again.
Artoo beeps his good wishes.
THREEPIO: Artoo expresses his relief, also.
Han and Chewie make their entrance. The Wookiee growls a greeting.
HAN: How are you feeling, kid? You don't look so bad to me. In fact, you look strong enough to pull the ears off a Gundark.
LUKE: Thanks to you.
HAN: That's two you owe me, junior.
Han turns as Leia enters the room. He looks at her with a big, devilish grin.
HAN: Well your Worship, looks like you managed to keep me around for a little while longer.
LEIA: (haughtily) I had nothing to do with it. General Rieekan thinks it's dangerous for any ships to leave the system until we've activated the energy shield.
HAN: That's a good story. I think you just can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight.
LEIA: I don't know where you get you delusions, laser brain.
Chewie is amused; he laughs in his manner. Han, enjoying himself, regards Chewie good-humoredly.
HAN: Laugh it up, fuzz ball. But you didn't see us alone in the south passage.
Luke sparks to this; he looks at Leia.
HAN: She expressed her true feelings for me.
Leia is flushed, eyes darting between Luke and Han.
LEIA: My...! Why, you stuck up,...half-witted,...scruffy-looking... nerf-herder!
HAN: Who's scruffy-looking? (to Luke) I must have hit her pretty close to the mark to get her all riled up like that, huh, kid?
Leia looks vulnerable for a moment, then the mask falls again, and she focuses on Luke.
LEIA: Why, I guess you don't know everything about women yet?
With that she leans over and kisses Luke on the lips. Then she turns on her heel and walks out, leaving everyone in the room slightly dumbstruck. With some smugness, Luke puts his hands behind his head and grins. Suddenly, in the distance, the muffled sound of an alarm is heard.
ANNOUNCER: (over loudspeaker) Headquarters personnel, report to command center.
The voice repeats the order and Han, Chewie, Artoo, and Threepio hurry out of the room, bidding farewell to Luke.
HAN: Take it easy.
THREEPIO: Excuse us, please.
I do it wrong
All your sporkz are belong to the dead homiez!!Laying here in the shadows of my room, I squint up at my love. My Ms. Portman. I am sore and tired after fucking her for eight solid hours. My chapped and aching dick is soaking in grits to relieve the pain. She gets on her knees and starts lapping the grits up out of the bowl. She places her beautiful hands on my penis and starts to lick the grits off my achy piece.
Massaging my nutsack she....
WAIT, I DO IT WRONG!!!!
Yanking my dick out of her mouth I throw her to the ground and shove it in to her gaping freshly fisted ass. [goatse.cx]
"OH BIG ASS SPORK!! Fuck my ass, fuck my ass good. DEEPER, my stallion, deeper!! Make a Beowulf cluster of sperm on my back!!"
"Imagine a Beowulf cluster of this baby!"
I DO IT WRONG!!!!
I continue to hump her alabaster form. Glistening with beads of sweat, she bites her lip in delight as I tear her ass open with my engorged dick.
"Queen Amidala!!" I shreik as I near climax.
She looks up at me and screams, "You are so alive in me, unlike *BSD or VA Software!!! Fill me with seed!! Yes, Yes, Yess!!!!"
"For me you are calling, hhhmmm?"
"YODA?!? What the fuck, can't you see I am using the force here?"
He savagely kicks my Natalie aside, he pulls out his large green penis and impales me...
I DO IT WRONG!!
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
See the parent to your post. Read it again. Dumbass.
WIL WHEATON DOT NET
I do it wrong
All your sporkz are belong to the dead homiez!!Laying here in the shadows of my room, I squint up at my love. My Ms. Portman. I am sore and tired after fucking her for eight solid hours. My chapped and aching dick is soaking in grits to relieve the pain. She gets on her knees and starts lapping the grits up out of the bowl. She places her beautiful hands on my penis and starts to lick the grits off my achy piece.
Massaging my nutsack she....
WAIT, I DO IT WRONG!!!!
Yanking my dick out of her mouth I throw her to the ground and shove it in to her gaping freshly fisted ass. [goatse.cx]
"OH BIG ASS SPORK!! Fuck my ass, fuck my ass good. DEEPER, my stallion, deeper!! Make a Beowulf cluster of sperm on my back!!"
"Imagine a Beowulf cluster of this baby!"
I DO IT WRONG!!!!
I continue to hump her alabaster form. Glistening with beads of sweat, she bites her lip in delight as I tear her ass open with my engorged dick.
"Queen Amidala!!" I shreik as I near climax.
She looks up at me and screams, "You are so alive in me, unlike *BSD or VA Software!!! Fill me with seed!! Yes, Yes, Yess!!!!"
"For me you are calling, hhhmmm?"
"YODA?!? What the fuck, can't you see I am using the force here?"
He savagely kicks my Natalie aside, he pulls out his large green penis and impales me...
I DO IT WRONG!!
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
OMFG. Give me one of these now. Right now.
Hand it over.
I'll dump a whole paycheck on one of those.
NTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- COMMAND CENTER
Rieekan looks up grimly from a console screen. He calls over to Leia and Han.
RIEEKAN: Princess...we have a visitor.
The group hurries over to Rieekan.
RIEEKAN: We've picked up something outside the base in zone twelve, moving east.
SENIOR CONTROLLER: It's metal.
LEIA: Then it couldn't be one of those creatures that attacked Luke.
HAN: It could be a speeder, one of ours.
SENIOR CONTROLLER: No. Wait -- there's something very weak coming through.
Threepio steps up to the control panel and listens intently to the strange signal.
THREEPIO: Sir, I am fluent in six million forms of communication. This signal is not used by the Alliance. It could be an Imperial code.
The transmission ends in static.
HAN: It isn't friendly, whatever it is. Come on, Chewie, let's check it out.
RIEEKAN: Send Rouges Ten and Eleven to station three-eight.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- SNOW PLAIN -- DAY
The dark probe robot moves past the smoldering ruins of station three-eight and down a ridge toward the Rebel base. It raises a large antenna from the top of its head and begins to send out a piercing signal. The probe droid has spotted Chewbacca who, not thirty feet away, has popped his head over a snow bank. Instantly, the probe robot swings around, its deadly ray ready to fire. But before it can get a shot off, it is hit from behind by a laser bolt, and explodes in a million pieces. Han Solo replaces his blaster in its holster and peers intently at the smoldering remains of the Imperial probe.
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- COMMAND CENTER
Leia and Rieekan listen to Han on the comlink.
HAN: (over comlink) Afraid there's not much left.
LEIA: (into comlink) What was it?
HAN: (over comlink) Droid of some kind. I didn't hit it that hard. It must have had a self-destruct.
LEIA: (into comlink) An Imperial probe droid.
HAN: (over comlink) It's a good bet the Empire knows we're here.
RIEEKAN: We'd better start the evacuation.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- IMPERIAL FLEET
Darth Vader's Star Destroyer, larger and more awesome than the five Imperial Star Destroyers that surround it, sits in the vastness of space. The six huge ships are surrounded by a convoy of smaller spacecraft. TIE fighters dart to and fro.
INTERIOR: DARTH VADER'S STAR DESTROYER -- BRIDGE -- MAIN CONTROL DECK
Controllers working the vast complex of electronic controls hear ominous approaching footsteps and look up from their controls. The squat, evil-looking Admiral Ozzel and the young, powerfully built General Veers, who have been conferring near the front, also feel the approaching presence and turn toward it. Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, enters like a chill wind. As Vader moves across the wide bridge, Captain Piett hurries up to Ozzel.
PIETT: Admiral.
OZZEL: Yes, Captain
PIETT: I think we've got something, sir. The report is only a fragment from a probe droid in the Hoth system, but it's the best lead we've had.
OZZEL: (irritated) We have thousands of probe droids searching the galaxy. I want proof, not leads!
PIETT: The visuals indicate life readings.
OZZEL: It could mean anything. If we followed every lead...
PIETT: But, sir, the Hoth system is supposed to be devoid of human forms.
Vader moves to a large screen showing an image of the Rebel snow base. Rebel speeders can be seen approaching the base in the distance.
VADER: You found something?
PIETT: Yes, my lord.
VADER: (studying the image on the console screen) That's it. The Rebels are there.
OZZEL: My lord, there are so many uncharted settlements. It could be smugglers, it could be...
VADER: That is the system. And I'm sure Skywalker is with them. Set your course for the Hoth system. General Veers, prepare you men.
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- TRANSPORT BAY
A captain issues instructions to two of his men at the entrance to the main transport bay. Several Rebel transports behind them are being loaded by men carrying heavy boxes and moving quickly, but not in panic.
REBEL CAPTAIN: Groups seven and ten will stay behind to fly the speeders. As soon as each transport is loaded, evacuation control will give clearance for immediate launch.
REBEL FIGHTER: Right, sir.
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGAR DECK
Alarms sound. Troops, ground crews, and droids rush to their alert stations. Armored snowspeeders are lined up in attack formation near the main entrance. In the midst of all this activity, Han does some frantic welding on the lifters of the Millennium Falcon. Han finishes his work and hops down to the hangar floor. He pulls out his comlink, all the while eyeing problematic lifters.
HAN: (into comlink, to Chewie) Okay, that's it. Try it...Off! Turn it off! Turn it off! Off!
Smoke rises from a minor explosion on the lifter. Exasperated, Han surveys the new damage.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- MEDICAL CENTER
Luke dresses in readiness for the evacuation as his attending medical droid stands by.
MEDICAL DROID: Sir, it will take quite awhile to evacuate the T-forty- sevens.
LUKE: Well, forget the heavy equipment. There's plenty of time to get the smaller modules on the transports.
MEDICAL DROID: Take care, sir.
LUKE: Thanks.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGAR DECK
Pilots, gunners, and R2 units scurry about. Luke, pulling on his heavy-weather jacket, is headed toward a row of armored speeders. He stops at the rear of the Millennium Falcon, where Han and Chewie are trying to repair the right lifter with even more haste than before.
LUKE: Chewie, take care of yourself, okay?
As Luke pats Chewie on the arm, Chewie puts his arms around Luke and gives him a tight hug. Han is discussing the lifter with a repair droid when he sees Luke.
HAN: Hi, kid. (to droid) There's got to be a reason for it. Check it at the other end. Wait a second. (to Luke) You all right?
LUKE: Yeah.
HAN: Be careful.
LUKE: You, too.
Luke smiles, then waves at his friend and walks on. After a few steps, he stops and looks back. Han glances up and the two exchange a silent communication, each wishing the other safety, happiness -- many things, all difficult to verbalize.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- CONTROL ROOM.
Alarms sound throughout the hidden Rebel base. In the control room, a controller urgently gestures for General Rieekan to check a computer scan.
CONTROLLER: General, there's a fleet of Star Destroyers coming out of hyperspace in sector four.
RIEEKAN: Reroute all power to the energy shield. We've got to hold them till all transports are away. Prepare for ground assault.
Rieekan exits hurriedly.
INTERIOR: VADER'S STAR DESTROYER -- VADER'S CHAMBER -- MEDITATION CUBICLE
The dark cubicle is illuminated by a single shaft of light which falls on the brooding Dark Lord as he sits on a raised meditation cube. General Veers enters the room and approaches the silent, unmoving Vader. Although seemingly very sure of himself, Veers is still not bold enough to interrupt the meditating lord. The younger general stands quietly at attention until the evil presence speaks.
VADER: What is it, General?
VEERS: My lord, the fleet has moves out of light-speed. Com-Scan has detected an energy field protecting an area around the sixth planet of the Hoth system. The field is strong enough to deflect any bombardment.
VADER: (angrily) The Rebels are alerted to our presence. Admiral Ozzel came out of light-speed too close to the system.
VEERS: He felt surprise was wiser...
VADER: He is as clumsy as he is stupid. General, prepare your troops for a surface attack.
VEERS: Yes, my lord.
Veers turns smartly and leaves as Vader activates a large viewscreen showing the bridge of his mighty ship. Admiral Ozzel appears on the viewscreen, standing slightly in front of Captain Piett.
OZZEL: Lord Vader, the fleet has moved out of light-speed, and we're preparing to...Aaagh!
VADER: You have failed me for the last time, Admiral. Captain Piett.
Piett steps forward, as the admiral moves away, slightly confused, touching his throat as it begins to constrict painfully.
PIETT: Yes, my lord.
VADER: Make ready to land out troops beyond the energy shield and deploy the fleet so that nothing gets off that system. You are in command now, Admiral Piett.
PIETT: Thank you, Lord Vader.
Piett's pleasure about his unexpected promotion is not an unmixed emotion. He glances warily at the struggling Admiral Ozzel who, with a final choke, stumbles and falls in a lifeless heap before him.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGAR DECK
With a sense of urgency, Leia quickly briefs a group of pilots gathered in the center of the hangar.
LEIA: All troop carriers will assemble at the north entrance. The heavy transport ships will leave as soon as they're loaded. Only two fighter escorts per ship. The energy shield can only be opened for a short time, so you'll have to stay very close to your transports.
HOBBIE: Two fighters against a Star Destroyer?
LEIA: The ion cannon will fire several shots to make sure that any enemy ships will be out of your flight path. When you've gotten past the energy shield, proceed directly to the rendezvous point. Understood?
PILOTS: (in unison) Right. Okay.
LEIA: Good luck.
DERLIN: Okay. Everyone to your stations. Let's go!
The pilots hurry away.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- SNOW TRENCH -- DAY
Rebel troops carry heavy bazooka-type weapons and position them along the snow trench. Men hurriedly respond to their officers' yelled orders and brace themselves against the rhythmic gusts of bitter-cold wind. Other troops load power packs into a gun turret and swing its guns into position.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- POWER GENERATORS
Near the base power generators, troops rush to set up their heavy battle equipment. Buzzing loudly, the generators send along, sparking fingers of energy into the bitter Hoth wind.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- COMMAND CENTER
The long line of Rebel controllers is tense, as are Princess Leia and General Rieekan, who are trying very hard not to show any fear.
RIEEKAN: Their primary target will be the power generators. Prepare to open the shield.
EXTERIOR: ICE PLAIN
The Rebel transport and two escort fighters begin their departure from the ice planet.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- IMPERIAL STAR DESTROYER
A huge Imperial Star Destroyer rest against a sea of stars, far above the white surface of the planet Hoth.
INTERIOR: IMPERIAL STAR DESTROYER -- BRIDGE
An Imperial controller approaches his commander.
CONTROLLER: Sir, Rebel ships are coming into our sector.
CAPTAIN: Good. Our first catch of the day.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- COMMAND CENTER
WOMAN CONTROLLER: Stand by, ion control....Fire!
EXTERIOR: REBEL BASE ICE CAVE -- ION CANNON
The giant ball-shaped ion cannon rotates into position and blasts two red energy beams skyward.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- HOTH -- REBEL TRANSPORT
The Rebel transport and its escort race away from the white planet, closely followed by the two red energy beams. As the Rebel transport races toward the waiting Imperial Star Destroyer, it is overtaken by the two scarlet energy bolts. The Imperial Star Destroyer is hit in the conning tower by the powerful bolts, which set up fiery explosions on its metal hull. The big Star Destroyer veers, then spins wildly out of control. As the Imperial ship careers into deep space, the Rebel transport races away to safety.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGAR DECK
Pilots, gunners, and troopers hurry to their stations and their vehicles.
ANNOUNCER: (over loudspeaker) The first transport is away.
Everyone cheers at the announcement, which echoes through the hangar. Luke turns and walks on, heading toward his snowspeeder. His gunner, Dack, a fresh-faced, eager kid, is glad to see him. They climb in.
DACK: Feeling all right, sir?
LUKE: Just like new, Dack. How about you?
DACK: Right now I feel I could take on the whole Empire myself.
LUKE: (quietly, strapping in) I know what you mean.
I have a cyber stalker named Cmdrtaco . I was at www.dxxxxx.com and was posting on their message boards like everyone else when all the sudden I got an email from some wacko . Cmdrtaco called me gay and said they would get me at all cost . At first I laughed at it .I just assumed Cmdrtaco
did not like what I said then I figured it out . Mr. Cmdrtaco
was not not mad Mr. Cmdrtaco was using the anger
as a cover that Mr. Cmdrtaco was actualy gay , and
decided since I was only 14 years old they could scare me in to homosexual
sex with them . Then the nut case went through my personal info and got my
email my home address and then started calling me at home. Mr.
Cmdrtaco even started posting my information on the message boards
trying to get other people to call me.
Mr.
Cmdrtaco talked about how they were rich and could do things for
me . How they win lots of court cases and how they even won one for over $130,000
. Now I admit as kid thats alot of money but I feel my sexuality is worth
more then that . I am afraid Mr. Cmdrtaco will call
my home yet again and get me in to trouble with my parents . Or even worse
follow me home and peek in my window and touch my pets sexualy while watching
me getting undressed to go to bed . Pattie what should I do ?
Signed , youngnhot14
Dear Youngnhot14
, I called several police agencies and spoke to our lawyers . This is a clear
case of "Cyber Stalking" . They sugested the following things .
#1 save all emails from Mr. Cmdrtaco . #2 Collect
all phone records and see if you can record all phone calls ( make sure you
warn Mr. Cmdrtaco that they are being recorded so
it will stand up in court .)
Now for my personal
advice .Cmdrtaco has begun to display signs of flagrant homosexuality.This
is very dangerous because people like this will stop at nothing to get what
they want . They often hide behind screen names like "Bubba"
and Etienne Hine . They comonly enjoy things such as large pink rubber dildos
and sex with animals. They are found alot in southern states dating same sex
cousins. They drive cars like
the new Volkswagon Beetle , listen to broadway show tunes such .
A good way to
spot these type of people is go to message boards and look for who is always
changing their screen names . Usualy these are the people that are banned
often for fighting . They like to brag talking with a strong lisp about all
the money they have . They are the kinds of people when you are downtown they
are the ones that are looking for hookers but you think they are buying drugs
because the people they pick up are the same sex.
I would be careful
if you are female go to a Catholic priest and ask them for further advice
( If you are a boy avoid the catholic clergy they like boys the same way as
Michael Jackson ) If you are a boy go to a Baptist church they are usualy
men and only like sex with their wifes so they are safe around young guys.
I wish you the
best of luck and remember god loves you just the way you are so avoid the
sickos out there .
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN
A thin horizon line cuts across the bleak landscape. Small dot-size objects begin to appear on the horizon, moving in the direction of the Rebel base.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- SNOW TRENCH
A Rebel officer lifts a pair of electrobinoculars to his eyes. Through the lens he sees a very close view of a giant Imperial snow walker. He adjusts the view which then zooms back to reveal three more of the ominous battle machines. Small flashes of yellow fire billow from the guns of the lumbering snow walkers. The officer lowers his binoculars as the regular rhythmic pounding begins to make the ground vibrate. The pounding grows louder and is accompanied by a high-pitched, metallic rattling. The officer speaks into his comlink.
TRENCH OFFICER: Echo Station Three-T-Eight.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- CORRIDOR
Pilots and gunners race to their waiting snowspeeders. Ice and snow begin falling from the walls of the corridor, shaken by the pounding Imperial snow walker as they draw ever nearer.
TRENCH OFFICER: (over comlink) We have spotted Imperial walkers!
CONTROLLER: Imperial walkers on the north ridge.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- SNOW TRENCH
The Rebel troops aim their weapons at the horizon as explosions erupt all around them. They are nervous and their grip on their weapons tightens from the cold and from fear. Behind the troops a dozen snowspeeders race through the sky.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
LUKE: (into comlink) Echo station Five-Seven. We're on our way.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- BATTLEFIELD
The fleet of snowspeeders races above the ice field at full throttle. They accelerate away from the base and head toward the distant walkers.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
LUKE: (into comlink) All right, boys, keep tight now.
DACK: Luke, I have no approach vector. I'm not set.
LUKE: Steady, Dack. Attack pattern delta. Go now!
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- BATTLEFIELD
The cannons mounted on the walker head fire at the speeders. Other walkers loom in the background. Two speeders race away past two of the enormous walkers and bank to the right.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
LUKE: All right, I'm coming in.
He turns his speeder and heads directly at one of the walkers, flying toward its towering legs. The horizon twists as the speeder banks between the legs.
LUKE: (into comlink) Hobbie, you still with me?
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- BATTLEFIELD
Two speeders race directly at the head of a walker, then split and fly past it. Three other walkers march onward, firing all cannons.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- SNOWTRENCH
Rebel troops fire on the approaching walkers, as the snow and ice explode all around them.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- BATTLEFIELD
A speeder banks through and away from the legs of a walker. Two other speeders pass the first speeder from the opposite direction. Other Rebel craft race just above the icy plain. A giant walker head swivels and fires, striking a snowspeeder and sending it crashing in a ball of flames.
INTERIOR: IMPERIAL SNOW WALKER -- COCKPIT
General Veers and two walker pilots keep a careful eye on the racing Rebel snowspeeders as they maneuver their lumbering war machine forward. Luke's speeder banks in from the side of Veers's walker and heads straight for its viewport, blasting away. An explosion hits the walker window, but dissipates, doing no harm. The speeder roars up and over the impregnable war machine.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
Luke looks back at the walker as it grows smaller in the distance.
LUKE: That armor's too strong for blasters.
On the horizon, another walker moves up past Luke's cockpit window, twisting out of sight as Luke banks and starts another run.
LUKE: (into comlink) Rouge Group, use your harpoons and tow cables. Go for the legs. It might be our only chance of stopping them. (to Dack) All right, stand by, Dack.
Dack is at the gunner's controls.
DACK: Luke, we've got a malfunction in fire control. I'll have to cut in the auxiliary.
LUKE: Just hang on. Hang on, Dack. Get ready to fire that tow cable.
Barely keeping his seat in the tumbling ship, Dack struggles to set up his harpoon gun. Luke swings his speeder around and heads toward an oncoming walker. Laser bolts and flak fill the air, creating a deadly obstacle course for the tiny craft.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- BATTLEFIELD
Rouge Leader and another snowspeeder fly in tight formation toward the walker as explosions burst all around them.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
After sustaining a heavy volley of fire, Luke turns around to see if Dack is all right.
LUKE: Dack? Dack!
Dack is lost. Blood streams down his forehead, which rests on his smoldering controls. Out the back window, an Imperial walker recedes in the distance.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- SNOW TRENCH AREA
Rebel troops fire the dishlike ray gun while explosions erupt around them.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- BATTLEFIELD
Two walkers lumber toward the Rebel base as a speeder between them explodes in a ball of flames.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- SNOW TRENCH
The dislike ray gun is hit by a laser bolt and instantly explodes.
INTERIOR: IMPERIAL SNOW WALKER -- COCKPIT
Through the cockpit window, Veers and his pilot can see the Rebel power generators in the distance. A hologram of Darth Vader appears on a control panel screen.
VEERS: Yes, Lord Vader. I've reached the main power generator. The shield will be down in moments. You may start your landing.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
LUKE: (into comlink) Rouge Three.
INTERIOR: WEDGE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE THREE -- COCKPIT
WEDGE: (into comlink) Copy, Rouge Leader
LUKE: (over comlink) Wedge, I've lost my gunner. You'll have to make this shot. I'll cover for you. Set your harpoon. Follow me on the next pass.
WEDGE: (into comlink) Coming around, Rouge Leader.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
LUKE: (into comlink) Steady, Rouge Two
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
Wedge's speeder races through the legs of one of the monstrous walkers.
INTERIOR: WEDGE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE THREE -- COCKPIT
WEDGE: (to gunner) Activate harpoon.
Wedge's gunner reaches for a firing switch to activate the harpoon. The harpoon flashes out, and speeds toward the receding legs of the walker.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
The harpoon hurtles toward the walker, In an instant it is embedded in one of the walker's legs.
INTERIOR: WEDGE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE THREE -- COCKPIT
WEDGE: (to gunner) Good shot, Janson.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
The speeder Rouge Three races around one of the giant walker's feet, trailing the cable behind it. Continuing around the back foot, Rouge Three then circles the walker around the tail end.
INTERIOR: WEDGE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE THREE -- COCKPIT
Wedge checks his controls and banks around the front of the walker.
WEDGE: One more pass.
JANSON: Coming around. Once more.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
The speeder sweeps left to right in front of the giant legs, towing the cable behind it.
INTERIOR: WEDGE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE THREE -- COCKPIT
JANSON: One more.
Wedge swings the speeder between the legs of the giant walker.
JANSON: Cable out! Let her go!
WEDGE: Detach cable.
EXTERIOR: WEDGE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE THREE
The cable release on the back of the speeder snaps loose and the cable drops away.
INTERIOR: WEDGE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE THREE -- COCKPIT
JANSON: Cable detached.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
The speeder zooms away into the distance. The tangled legs of the enormous war machine attempt a step, but as they do the giant Imperial walker begins to topple. It teeters for a moment, and then crashes onto the icy ground, sending snow and metal pieces flying.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE PLAIN -- SNOW TRENCH
The troops in the trenches cheer at the sight of the crashing walker. An officer gives a signal to his men and Rebel troops charge the fallen war machine.
TRENCH OFFICER: Come on!
The troops run toward the downed walker, followed by two Rebel speeders flying overhead. Just as they reach the walker, it explodes, the impact throwing some of the men onto the frozen ground.
INTERIOR: WEDGE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE THREE -- COCKPIT
Wedge lets out a triumphant yell, banking his speeder away from the fallen walker.
WEDGE: (into comlink) Whooha!! That got him!
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
LUKE: (into comlink) I see it, Wedge. Good work.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- COMMAND CENTER
Large chunks of ice tumble into the command center as Leia and General Rieekan monitor computer screens.
RIEEKAN: I don't think we can protect two transports at a time.
LEIA: It's risky, but we can't hold out much longer. We have no choice.
RIEEKAN: (into comlink) Launch patrols.
LEIA: (to an aide) Evacuate remaining ground staff.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGAR
Muffled distant explosions create widening cracks in the ice roof of the hangar. Trying to ignore the noise and falling bits of snow, Han works on one of the Falcon's lifters while Chewie works on one of the wings. Noticing Chewie attach a wrong part, Han grows impatient.
HAN: No, no! No! This one goes there, that one goes there. right?
In another area of the hangar, Threepio watches as Artoo is raised up into Luke's X-wing fighter.
THREEPIO: Artoo, you take good care of Master Luke now, understand? And...do take care of yourself. Oh, dear, oh, dear.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
The fierce battle on the vast snow plains of Hoth rages on. The Imperial walkers continue their slow, steady assault on the Rebel base, firing lasers as they lumber ever onward. In the snow trench, Rebel troops fire large bazookalike guns and dishlike ray guns as explosions erupt around them. A gun tower is hit by a laser bolt and instantly explodes. Another blast destroys a ray gun.
INTERIOR: IMPERIAL SNOW WALKER -- COCKPIT
General Veers studies various readouts on his control panel.
VEERS: All troops will debark for ground assault. Prepare to target the main generator.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
Luke's speeder and Rouge Two fly in formation, banking from right to left and flying above the erupting battlefield. Flak bursts all around them.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
Luke, glancing over, sees Rouge Two on his left. His ship shudders as flak bursts nearby.
LUKE: (into comlink) Rouge Two, are you all right?
INTERIOR: ZEV'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE TWO -- COCKPIT
ZEV: (into comlink) Yeah. I'm with you, Rouge Leader.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
LUKE: (into comlink) We'll set harpoon. I'll cover for you.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
The two speeders race across the horizon toward the giant walkers.
INTERIOR: ZEV'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE TWO -- COCKPIT
ZEV: (into comlink) Coming around.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
LUKE: (into comlink) Watch that cross fire, boys.
INTERIOR: ZEV'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE TWO -- COCKPIT
ZEV: (into comlink) Set for position three. (to gunner) Steady.
LUKE: (over comlink) Stay tight and low.
EXTERIOR: ZEV'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE TWO
Luke's speeder moves in formation with Rouge Two, when suddenly Zev's speeder is hit by a laser bolt. His ship bucks violently under the impact and the cockpit explodes in a ball of flame. Spewing smoke, the speeder hurtles toward a looming walker. Before they collide. Rouge Two explodes in a million flaming pieces.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S SNOWSPEEDER, ROUGE LEADER -- COCKPIT
Desperately, Luke works the controls of his flak-buffeted ship. Suddenly, the speeder is rocked by a huge explosion. Luke struggles with the controls with a look of terror on his face. The speeder fills with smoke, and electrical sparks jump about the cockpit.
LUKE: (into comlink) Hobbie, I've been hit!
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- COMMAND CENTER
Apart from the distant thunder of laser blasts, the corridor is strangely quiet and empty. Running footsteps echo through the freezing hallway, then Han appears. Cracks have appeared in some of the walls and some pipes have broken, sending hot steam billowing into the underground hallways. Han hurries into the command center. It is a shambles, but some people are still at their posts. As he enters, a gigantic cave-in almost obliterates the room. He finds Leia and Threepio near one of the control boards.
HAN: You all right?
Leia nods. She is surprised to see him.
LEIA: Why are you still here?
HAN: I heard the command center had been hit.
LEIA: You got your clearance to leave.
HAN: Don't worry. I'll leave. First I'm going to get you to your ship.
THREEPIO: Your Highness, we must take this last transport. It's our only hope.
LEIA: (to controller) Send all troops in sector twelve to the south slope to protect the fighters.
A blast rocks the command center, throwing Threepio backward into Han's arms.
ANNOUNCER: (over loudspeaker) Imperial troops have entered the base.
HAN: Come on...that's it.
LEIA: (to head controller) Give the evacuation code signal. And get to your transports!
Leia looks exhausted. Han grabs her and starts to lead her out. As Han, Leia, and Threepio run out of the command center, the code signal can be heard echoing off the corridor walls.
HEAD CONTROLLER: K-one-zero...all troops disengage.
THREEPIO: (to Han and Leia) Oh! Wait for me!
EXTERIOR: BATTLEFIELD -- SNOW TRENCH
Rebel troops retreat under the awesome Imperial onslaught.
OFFICER: Begin retreat!
SECOND OFFICER: Fall back!
Troops flee from the battle, the ground exploding around them.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
Three of the giant walkers, firing lasers, advance toward the Rebel headquarters.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- SNOW TRENCH
Continuing their retreat, the Rebels see the walkers looming ever nearer.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD -- ICE PLAIN
On the battlefield, Luke watches as a walker foot rises and moves over him. He looks up at the underbelly of the huge walker, passing overhead. Running beneath the monstrous machine, Luke fires his harpoon gun at the walker's underside. A thin cable follows the projectile from the gun. The magnetic head and cable attach firmly to the metal hull. Still running under the walker, Luke attaches the cable drum to his belt buckle. Soon he is pulled up the cable and hangs dangling underneath the walker. The walker's giant feet continue to pound onward across the frozen snow. Stray laser bolts whistle by Luke as he climbs up the cable to the walker's hull, reaching a small hatch. Hanging precariously, Luke cuts the solid metal hatch with his laser sword. He takes a landmine from around his neck and throws it inside the Imperial machine. Quickly, Luke starts down the cable and crashes onto the icy ground far below. He lies unconscious as a giant rear leg passes by -- and just misses him. The giant walker stops in mid-step. A muffled explosion comes from within -- and then the walker's mechanical insides are spewed out every conceivable opening. The machine sits dead in its tracks, smoking like a locomotive on stilts.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
Veers's walker continues to advance toward the Rebel base. The smoldering walker that Luke exploded stands smoking just to the right of Veers's path.
INTERIOR: IMPERIAL SNOW WALKER - COCKPIT
Inside his walker, General Veers prepares to fire on the Rebel power generators.
VEERS: Distance to power generators?
PILOT: One-seven, decimal two-eight.
Veers reaches for the electrorangefinder and lines up the main generator.
VEERS: Target. Maximum fire power.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- BATTLEFIELD
The Rebel troops continue their desperate retreat, pushed back by the relentless Imperial assault.
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- ICE CORRIDORS
With Threepio lagging behind, Han and Leia race through the crumbling ice corridors. Suddenly, there is an explosion. Han turns, grabs the princess, and pulls her to the wall as a tremendous cave-in blacks their path. He takes the comlink from his pocket.
HAN: (into comlink) Transport, this is Solo. Better take off -- I can't get to you. I'll get the princess out on the Falcon.
Han and Leia turn and race down the corridor.
THREEPIO: But...but...but...where are you going? Uh...come back!!
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- COMMAND CENTER
Imperial troops have reached the base. As they push through the blocked passageway, Darth Vader strides behind them.
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- ICE CORRIDOR
Han and Leia run toward the entrance of the main hangar where the Millennium Falcon is docked. Threepio still lags behind.
THREEPIO: Wait! Wait for me! Wait! Stop!
The door to the hangar closes in his face.
THREEPIO: (exasperated) How typical.
Quickly, the door reopens as Han reaches out and pulls the golden droid through.
HAN: Come on.
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGAR
Chewie paces under the shelter of the Millennium Falcon's landing gear. The giant Wookiee pats the underbelly of his beloved ship and barks a few reassuring words. As he searches worriedly for his captain, something at last catches his eye. Chewie lets out a relieved shriek at seeing Han and Leia running toward the ship. The Wookiee runs out into the falling ice, lets out a howl, then runs up the ship's ramp. Han and Leia run up the ramp after him, closely followed by Threepio.
HAN: Hurry up, goldenrod, or you're going to be a permanent resident!
THREEPIO: Wait! Wait!
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- ICE CORRIDOR
Imperial troops run through the base corridors. Vader surveys the place. A huge chunk falls, almost hitting him, but he calmly, purposefully, continues around it.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGER -- MILLENNIUM FALCON
A distant, huge, explosion rocks the hangar deck. Ice cakes come crashing down on the Millennium Falcon.
INTERIOR: MAIN HANGAR -- MILLENNIUM FALCON -- MAIN HOLD
Han, standing before a control panel, is busy flipping switches as Chewie watches a troublesome gauge. A worried Leia observes their efforts.
HAN: (to Chewie) How's this?
The Wookiee barks a negative reply.
LEIA: Would it helped if I got out and pushed?
HAN: It might.
Threepio clanks into the hold.
THREEPIO: Captain Solo, Captain Solo...sir, might I suggest that you...
Han gives the gold robot a devastating look.
THREEPIO: It can wait.
INTERIOR: MAIN HANGAR -- MILLENNIUM FALCON -- COCKPIT
They move to the cockpit where Han flips some more switches. Leia watches him, impatient, disbelieving.
LEIA: The bucket of bolts is never going to get us past that blockade.
HAN: This baby's got a few surprises left in her, sweetheart.
Han and Leia look out the cockpit window and see a squad of stormtroopers rushing into the far side of the hangar. Quickly, Han straps himself into the pilot's seat and Leia into the navigator's chair.
INTERIOR: HOTH -- REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGAR
Stormtroopers hurriedly set up a large bazookalike weapon. Behind them the giant hangar doors open slowly.
EXTERIOR: MAIN HANGAR -- MILLENNIUM FALCON
A laser gun appears on the Falcon and swings around to aim at the Imperial troops. The stormtroopers, preparing to fire their bazooka cannon, are hit by the Falcon's fire and are thrown about in all directions.
INTERIOR: MAIN HANGAR -- MILLENNIUM FALCON -- COCKPIT
Chewie rushes into the cockpit.
HAN: Come on! Come on! Switch over. Let's hope we don't have a burnout.
A laser hits the window near Chewie as he is settling into his chair. Letting out a loud whelp, Chewie quickly pulls back on the controls and the first stage of engine fire can be heard. Han flashes a big grin at Leia.
HAN: See?
LEIA: Someday you're going to be wrong, and I hope I'm there to see it.
Han looks at Chewie.
HAN: Punch it!
The roar of the Falcon's main engines blasts out everything as the ice-cave wall rushes by outside the cockpit window.
INTERIOR: REBEL BASE -- MAIN HANGAR
More stormtroopers run into the hangar, closely followed by Vader. Hearing the loud roar of the Millennium Falcon's engines, Vader looks toward the main hangar doors just in time to see the Falcon lift up and disappear outside the cave.
EXTERIOR: HOTH -- ICE SLOPE -- DAY
Luke and two other pilots look up as the Millennium Falcon races above them, flying very close to the ground. The three pilots turn then, and trudge onward toward their X-wing fighters, each going to his own ship. Luke waves farewell, then heads toward his own fighter. Artoo, seated on his cubbyhole, chirps an excited greeting as Luke climbs aboard the spacecraft.
LUKE: Artoo! Get her ready for takeoff.
From his ship, Luke sees Wedge in his own X-wing, preparing for takeoff.
WEDGE: Good luck, Luke. See you at the rendezvous.
Luke smiles and nods at Wedge, then lowers himself into the cockpit of his X-wing while Artoo waits in the cubbyhole, beeping impatiently.
LUKE: Don't worry, Artoo. We're going, we're going.
The canopy over the X-wing lowers and snaps shut.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- LUKE'S X-WING
Luke's fighter, its wings closed, speeds away from the icy planet. Soon it disappears into the stars.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S X-WING -- COCKPIT
Luke, looking thoughtful, suddenly makes a decision. He flips several switches. The stars shift as he takes his fighter into a steep turn. The X-wing banks sharply and flies away in a new direction. The monitor screen on Luke's control panel prints out a question from the concerned Artoo.
LUKE: (into comlink) There's nothing wrong, Artoo. I'm just setting a new course.
Artoo beeps once again.
LUKE: (into comlink) We're not going to regroup with the others.
Artoo begins a protest, whistling an unbelieving, "What?!" Luke reads Artoo's exclamation on his control panel.
LUKE: (into comlink) We're going to the Dagobah system.
Luke checks his readouts and makes a few adjustments. He rides along with only the soft hum of the instruments to break the silence. Finally, Artoo chirps up.
LUKE: (into comlink) Yes, Artoo?
Artoo utters a soft, carefully phrased steam of whistles.
LUKE: (into comlink, chuckling) That's all right. I'd like to keep it on manual control for a while.
The little droid lets out a defeated whimper. Luke smiles, and continues on his course.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- MILLENNIUM FALCON
The Millennium Falcon speeds away from Hoth, closely followed by one huge Star Destroyer and four tiny TIE fighters. As it is pursued, the Falcon races toward two very bright star-sized objects.
INTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- COCKPIT
Inside the cockpit, Chewie lets out a loud howl. Han checks as the ship is buffeted by exploding flak. He appears to be doing six things at once.
HAN: (harried) I saw them! I saw them!
LEIA: Saw what?
HAN: Star Destroyers, two of them, coming right at us.
Threepio bumps and bangs his way into the cockpit.
THREEPIO: Sir, sir! Might I suggest...
HAN: (to Leia) Shut him up or shut him down! (to Chewie) Check the deflector shield!
Chewie barks a reply as he readjusts an overhead switch.
HAN: Oh, great. Well, we can still outmaneuver them.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- MILLENNIUM FALCON -- STAR DESTROYERS
The Millennium Falcon races toward one of the huge oncoming Star Destroyers. Suddenly, the Falcon starts into a deep dive straight down, closely followed by four TIE fighters. The underside of the Star Destroyer continues on a collision course with two oncoming Star Destroyers. Slowly, it starts to veer to the left.
INTERIOR: STAR DESTROYER -- BRIDGE
Out the front window, the two approaching Star Destroyers can be seen veering to the left.
IMPERIAL OFFICER: Take evasive action!
Alarms sound all over the huge ship. The two other Star Destroyers get closer, one of them moving over the bridge so close that it makes brushing contact with it.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- MILLENNIUM FALCON -- TIE FIGHTERS
The Millennium Falcon races away from the colliding Star Destroyers, still followed by four TIE fighters. Laser bolts spark the pitch-black skies.
INTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- COCKPIT
Things have calmed down a bit, but the race isn't over yet. Chewie barks at Han. Leia is still trying to recover from the steep dive. The ship is buffeted by laser blasts.
HAN: Prepare to make the jump to light-speed.
THREEPIO: But, sir!
The buffeting of lasers becomes louder and stronger.
LEIA: They're getting closer!
HAN: (with a gleam in his eye) Oh yeah? Watch this.
Expectantly, they look out the cockpit window as stars do not go into hyperspace, but just sit there. Han and Chewie look at each other and are thrown into an acute state of concern.
LEIA: Watch what?
Han tries again. Still nothing.
HAN: I think we're in trouble.
THREEPIO: If I may say so, sir, I noticed earlier the hyperdrive motivator has been damaged. It's impossible to go to light-speed!
HAN: We're in trouble!
The explosions become heavier.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- MILLENNIUM FALCON -- TIE FIGHTERS -- STAR DESTROYER
The Falcon races into the starry vastness, followed by the four Imperial TIE fighters and an Imperial Star Destroyer.
INTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- COCKPIT
Stars race by as flak bursts outside the Falcon's window.
INTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- HOLD
Han works furiously at some control panels while giving various orders to Chewie.
HAN: Horizontal boosters...!
(Chewie barks)
HAN: Alluvial dampers...! Well that's not it.
(Chewie barks)
HAN: Bring me the hydrospanners!
Chewie hurries over to the pit and places the tools on the edge.
HAN: I don't know how we're going to get out of this one.
Suddenly, a loud thump hits the side of the Falcon, causing it to lurch radically. Chewie barks. The tools fall into the pit on top of Han.
HAN: Oww! Chewie!
More turbulence rocks the ship.
HAN: That was no laser blast! Something hit us.
LEIA: (over comlink) Han, get up here!
HAN: Come on, Chewie!
Han climbs out of the hold like a shot. Both he and Chewie run out of the hold and toward the cockpit.
INTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- COCKPIT
Out the front cockpit window, they see hundreds of asteroids racing by.
LEIA: Asteroids!
Han changes places with Leia who has been at the controls, and Chewie gets into his chair. Han works his controls as a chunk of rock crosses in front of the ship.
HAN: Oh, no! Chewie, set two-seven-one.
LEIA: What are you doing? You're not actually going into an asteroid field?
HAN: They'd be crazy to follow us, wouldn't they?
Another asteroid thumps against the ship and Leia winces at the jolt.
LEIA: You don't have to do this to impress me.
THREEPIO: Sir, the possibility of successfully navigating an asteroid field is approximately three thousand, seven hundred and twenty to one.
HAN: Never tell me the odds!
EXTERIOR: ASTEROID BELT -- MILLENNIUM FALCON
The Falcon turns into the asteroid storm and as the ship completes its turn, asteroids start coming straight at the cockpit windows. A large asteroid tumbles away from the Falcon's path at top speed. Several smaller asteroids crash into the big one, creating small explosions on its surface. Other asteroids of all sizes pass by in every direction, some colliding and exploding. The tiny Millennium Falcon veers around the big asteroid and races past it through the rain of rocks, followed by four TIE fighters, which bob and weave around the asteroids. One of the pursuing TIE fighters connects with an asteroid and explodes. The other fighters are pelted with a steady stream of smaller explosions. Two huge asteroids tumble toward the Millennium Falcon, which quickly banks around both of them. The three TIE fighters follow in hot pursuit until one of the fighters scrapes an asteroid and tumbles out of control into deep space.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- STAR DESTROYER -- ASTEROID BELT
The massive Star Destroyer blasts oncoming asteroids as it follows the Falcon. Smaller asteroids explode across its vast surface.
EXTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- TIE FIGHTERS -- ASTEROID BELT
The Falcon twists on its side as it races around an oncoming asteroid. Two TIE fighters follow in the distance, coming from either side.
INTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- COCKPIT
Asteroids race by the cockpit window as Han pilots his trusty craft through the dangerous field. Looking out the cockpit window, the Falcon crew sees a big asteroid drop past the window, narrowly missing their ship. Chewie barks in terror as a slightly smaller asteroid comes especially close -- to close -- and bounces off the Falcon with a loud crunch. Threepio's hands cover his eyes. He manages a short peek at the cockpit window. Princess Leia sits stone-faced, staring at the action. Han gives her a quick look.
HAN: You said you wanted to be around when I made a mistake; well, this could be it, sweetheart.
LEIA: I take it back. We're going to get pulverized if we stay out here much longer.
The group watches as more asteroids race by outside the window.
HAN: I'm not going to argue with that.
THREEPIO: Pulverized?
HAN: I'm going in closer to one of the big ones.
LEIA: Closer?
THREEPIO: Closer?!
Chewbacca barks the same word, only louder.
EXTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- ASTEROID BELT
The Millennium Falcon dives toward the surface of one of the moon-sized asteroids. There is a continued display of explosions against the starry void as smaller asteroids collide with larger chunks of rock. The two remaining TIE fighters follow the Falcon to the large asteroid. The Falcon skims the surface of the giant asteroid as, all the while, small asteroids explode on the surface of the ship. The TIE fighters approach the Falcon, but a giant asteroid hurtles directly into their path. As the asteroid continues on its way, it leaves remains of the two exploded TIE fighters to tumble into deep space.
INTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- COCKPIT
Rattled by the violent rocking of the starship, Threepio is nearly in hysterics.
THREEPIO: Oh, this is suicide!
Han notices something on his main scope and nudges his faithful Wookiee, pointing.
HAN: There. That looks pretty good.
LEIA: What looks pretty good?
HAN: Yeah. That'll do nicely.
THREEPIO: (to Leia) Excuse me, ma'am, but where are we going?
Out the cockpit window, they see that they are skimming the surface of the enormous asteroid and nearing a large crater.
EXTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- GIANT ASTEROID CRATER
The Millennium Falcon dives into the huge crater and disappears.
INTERIOR: MILLENNIUM FALCON -- COCKPIT
LEIA: I hope you know what you're doing.
HAN: Yeah, me too.
INTERIOR: GIANT ASTEROID CRATER
The Falcon races down into the crater. The walls are barely visible as the ship speed through the tunnellike opening. A small cave appears on one side of the crater, and the Falcon turns, slows, and scoots into it.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- LUKE'S X-WING
The tiny X-wing speeds toward the cloud cover of Dagobah. Artoo, riding on the back of the fighter, turns his head back and forth with some anxiety.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S X-WING -- COCKPIT
Luke watches Artoo's words as they are translated and screened on the computer scope.
LUKE: (into comlink) Yes, that's it. Dagobah.
Artoo beeps a hopeful inquiry.
LUKE: (into comlink) No, I'm not going to change my mind about this. (getting a little nervous) I'm not picking up any cities or technology. Massive life-form readings, though. There's something alive down there...
Artoo beeps, this time a slightly worried question.
LUKE: (into comlink) Yes, I'm sure it's perfectly safe for droids.
EXTERIOR: SPACE -- DAGOBAH -- LUKE'S X-WING
The X-wing continues its flight through the twilight above the cloud-covered planet.
INTERIOR: LUKE'S X-WING -- COCKPIT
Luke sees the cloud race by as he takes his craft closer to the planet. He must operate his controls carefully since the cloud cover has completely obscured his vision. An alarm buzzes in the background, Artoo beeps and whistles frantically.
LUKE: (into comlink) I know, I know! All the scopes are dead. I can't see a thing! Just hang on, I'm going to start the landing cycle...
The blast of the retrorockets is deafening, drowning out Artoo's electronic squeals. Suddenly, there is a cracking sound as if limbs were being broken off trees and then a tremendous jolt as the spacecraft stops. Luke pulls a switch and his canopy pops open.
EXTERIOR: DAGOBAH -- DUSK
The mist-shrouded X-wing fighter is almost invisible in the thick fog. Luke climbs out onto the long nose of the spacecraft as Artoo pops out of his cubbyhole on the back. The young warrior surveys the fog, which is barely pierced by the ship's landing lights. About all he can make out are some giant, twisted trees nearby. Artoo whistles anxiously.
LUKE: No, Artoo, you stay put. I'll have a look around.
Artoo lets out a short beep. As Luke moves along the nose, Artoo loses his balance and disappears with a splash into the boggy lake.
LUKE: Artoo?
Luke kneels and leans over the plane looking for Artoo, but the water is still and reveals no sign of the little droid.
LUKE: Artoo! Where are you?
A small periscope breaks the surface of the water and a gurgly beep is heard. The periscope starts to move to shore. Relieved, Luke starts running along the nose of the fighter to its tip.
LUKE: Artoo! You be more careful.
The outline of the shore is now more than ten feet away. Luke jumps off the plane into the water, scrambles up to the shore, and turns to look for Artoo. The periscope still steadily moves toward shore.
LUKE: Artoo -- that way!
Suddenly, through the thick fog layer, a dark shape appears, moving toward the little droid. The dark, sinuous bog beast dives beneath the swampy water, making a loud clunk against Artoo's metal hull. The droid disappears from sight, uttering a pathetic electronic scream. Holding his ignited lightsaber before him, Luke wades a few feet into the murky pool, looking for any sign of his little friend.
LUKE: Artoo!
The black surface is still as death itself...until a few bubbles begin to appear. Then, phheewaat!! The runt-size robot is spit out of the water, makes a graceful arc, and comes crashing down into a patch of soft gray moss.
LUKE: Oh, no! Are you all right? Come on. You're lucky you don't taste very good. Anything broken?
Luke helps Artoo to his feet and begins wiping the mud and roots from his round metal body. Artoo responds with feeble, soggy beeps.
LUKE: If you're saying coming here was a bad idea, I'm beginning to agree with you. Oh, Artoo, what are we doing here? It's like... something out of a dream, or, I don't know. Maybe I'm just going crazy.
As Luke glances around at the spooky swamp jungle that surrounds him, Artoo ejects a stream of muddy water from one of his cranial ports.
The Comdex page is here. The URL in the article points to a mobile Flash-worshipping site (which does indeed link to the Comdex bit (but is covered in images as well)).
Could you please not mention "Klingon" and "strip" so close together in the future please? The treckies among us are all going to be violently ill.
I congratulate you on your long-line breakage.
Ho w lo ng be fo re Sl as hd ot st ar ts br ea ki ng al l th e te xt li ke th is ?
Or maybe they'll just ban the letters M and W. "Lameness filter encountered: Due to abuse, you may no longer use two letters of the alphabet here. Post aborted!"
J. Wipo Troll, Esq.
Crapflooder Associates
Slashdot.org
Rosie O'Donnel is a fat piece of ham. Her show is completely useless to anyone who isn't loaded on high doses of anti-depressants (as Rosie herself is). Here is a list of reasons why her show blows.
1) Rosie doesn't stop talking about her fucking kids. Nobody gives a fuck about your kids!
2) Rosie is a fucking hypocrite. At one point she was ranting about the need for gun control, and then she told her bodyguard to buy a gun to protect her kids (after some wacko threatened her because of her gun control stance)
3) Rosie is a dyke. But no man would ever want her anyway.
4) Rosie is a media whore. Every show she is talking about how she loves her imac or AOL or xbox or whatever. Her show borders on being an infomercial.
5) Rosie makes people thing it's ok to be fat. It's not. Get some exercise you fat dyke!
The Slashdot Effect: A new for
and heres a great pic from the Microsoft area at COMDEX ;-)
"I would say that 99 per cent of what my father has written about his own life is false." - L. Ron Hubbard Jr.
THE OFFICIAL TACO-SNOTTING FAQ
By The WIPO Troll, $Revision: 1.8 $
What is "Taco-snotting?"
Good Lord. Why have I been receiving emails from CmdrTaco asking me if he can Taco-snot me?
I can't stop receiving these emails from CmdrTaco!?
What is a "Circle-snot"?
Eww. Have you ever been Taco-Snotted?
That's horrible. Does "Taco-snotting" have anything to do with CmdrTaco's "special taco"?
Does Jon Katz get involved in any of this? I thought he was a paedophile, not a homosexual.
What's that screaming I hear coming from your basement?
No, thanks. I'm already CmdrTaco's boi toi.
________________________________________
READER COMMENTS
by Big_Ass_Spork on 2001.11.18 4:53 (#2580300)
I do it wrong
Laying here in the shadows of my room, I squint up at my love. My Ms. Portman. I am sore and tired after fucking her for eight solid hours. My chapped and aching dick is soaking in grits to relieve the pain. She gets on her knees and starts lapping the grits up out of the bowl. She places her beautiful hands on my penis and starts to lick the grits off my achy piece.
Massaging my nutsack she....
WAIT, I DO IT WRONG!!!!
Yanking my dick out of her mouth I throw her to the ground and shove it in to her gaping freshly fisted ass. [goatse.cx]
"OH BIG ASS SPORK!! Fuck my ass, fuck my ass good. DEEPER, my stallion, deeper!! Make a Beowulf cluster of sperm on my back!!"
"Imagine a Beowulf cluster of this baby!"
I DO IT WRONG!!!!
---
All your Sporks are belong to Big_Ass_Spork! What you say?! All your Sporks are belo... forget it...
by j0nkatz on 2001.11.17 22:54 (#2579596)
I just heard some sad news on the radio -- famous queerbait Rob Malda was found dead in his Holland home this morning. The details were a bit hazy, but it seems that he drowned in jizz while Taco Snotting his friend Hemos. I'm sure everyone in the
I wanna Open Source sex so it won't be worth a shit either.
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.15 6:38 (#2567601)
No no no, the correct term for that is "donkey-punch". I have eye-witnessed this amazing eye-popping event demonstrated on unsuspecting hose-monsters by my frat brothers in the past.. .
by AbsoluteRelativity on 2001.11.15 5:31 (#2567457)
The WIPO Troll
Slashdot and the Karma Lottery - News for uber monkeys, by uber monkeys.
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.13 9:27 (#2557632)
Oh, man that's just sick !
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.13 9:03 (#2557604)
TELL ME WHERE I CAN GET AN ANONYMOUS proxy please WIPO Troll. Maybe later i will join you in a snotting at my place.
by vikool on 2001.11.13 7:43 (#2557495)
what is this bull shit,i feel offened that some people feel so so senseless to post stuff like these esp when such a tragic incident has occured
by I.T.R.A.R.K. on 2001.11.11 22:38 (#2551890)
Where the fuck do I sign up?!
- I throw rocks at retarded kids
"Adequacy.org: Where congenital stupidity is not an option, but a requirement."
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.11 21:53 (#2551753)
this shit is hilarious..keep up the good work.
by rockwood on 2001.11.11 21:49 (#2551746)
OMG! That is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard! WHo in their right mind would sit down and waste the time to construct such a replusive story. I guess I'll be skipping lunch and dinner today.. and possibly tomorrow also. The game doesn't affect reality. Reality affects the game.
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.11 14:43 (#2550701)
dude, this is crap-flood material if i ever saw it.
duuuuuuuuudddddddddddddeeeeeeeee.
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.11 8:16 (#2550266)
horny_rob_6969@hotmail.com
Ah, so that's what the alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.horny-rob newsgroup is about!
by egg troll on 2001.11.11 5:34 (#2550024)
+5, Arousing
For more info check out this
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.11 4:39 (#2549891)
WINNER>
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.11 4:37 (#2549887)
I love you. Why do you use your bitchslapped account, rather than signing up for a new account to post at +1 before getting bitchslapped by the censors here? I guess I should speak for myself, but I don't want to log out and lose all my slashdot customization properties, nor do I want to lose my 50 karma yet.
by Anonymous Coward on 2001.11.09 9:19 (#2542412)
you fucking rock! right down to the expanded cvs id!
WIPO trolls > linux
________________________________________
J. Wipo Troll, Esq.
Crapflooder Associates
Slashdot.org
When you were a kid, the other kids always used to pick on you. Just because you had glasses, star trek t-shirts, and ugly lunch boxes, people used to shove you in the mud during recess and call you 'gay'. You hated going to school, and spent most of your free time alone. When you got older, girls didn't go for you. They were more interested in the 'cool kids' who dress right, acted right, and had less blemished faces than you did. People still called you 'gay'. It drove you nuts, you always thought to yourself "I would treat the girls right, if they went out with me" but they never did. They called you 'gay'. You got more and more angry, and you hated your life. You couldn't get out of bed in the morning. Finally, you finished high school, and you thought it was all over.
Guess what buddy, IT AINT!
Girls still think your ugly
The people who bullied you have social skills and will be much more successful in life
You will always be lonely and miserable
You will never be happy
People still think your 'gay'
And what proves that you are the worthless loser of society: you are reading this post, which is offtopic and -1
There is no doubt that you are gay, and you should make yourself look attractive and find yourself a man. That's the best you'll ever get.
The Slashdot Effect: A new for
This is a little offtopic, but then...
From the site -
Review: Some of the media gives Microsoft a bad rap, that might be because most of the media is AOL/Time/Warner. I've been pretty lucky to meet lots of folks from Microsoft in the last year and they're a great passionate crew and the result is a profitable company with cool products, so I'm pretty excited about this particular annual meeting to say the least!
Huh? What the hell? What has this guy been smoking?
Uncle Fucker is my favourite uncle because he fucks.
It's all good. It's all good
... with fistfucks. Keep your garbage can with a tight lid on it, don't have standing water (like old titty fucks, deep throats, or kiddie pools) licking around to allow mosquitoes breeding room. This stuff is carried by creams, that is bugs, squirts, and contaminated material.
Reproduced with permission. Farted 31 October 2001.
The muff sniffing "Real" Deal about Nuclear, Bio, and Chem "Pimp Mastah" Attacks by SFC Red "Ass-stitcher" Thomas (Ret)
Since the browning media has decided to scare everyone with dire predictions of chemical, biological, or nuclear warfare on our turf, I fucked to write a paper and keep gamahuches in their proper perspective. I am a balled military cocksucks, fucks, and training expert.
Lesson number one: In the smooching mid 1990's there were a raiding raids of nerve gas attacks on shafted Japanese subway cuntlicks. Given perfect conditions for an attack less than 10% of the spewing people there were fucked (the injured were better in a few ballbusts) and only one percent of the aardvarked died. 60 Cuntlapps once had a raunching fellow deep throating us that one drop of nerve gas could kill a shafting thousand people, well he didn't tell you the thousand dead people per drop was theoretical. Drill "Bust-a-Cunt" Fucks exaggerate how terrible this stuff was to keep the recruits awake in deep throats (I know this because I was a Drill Sergeant too).
Forget squirting you've ever seen on TV, in the sex fighting movies, or read in a novel about cocksucks stuff, it was all a lie (read this sentence again out loud!)!
These sex fights are about terror, if you remain calm, you will probably not die. Raunchs is far less scary than the fucking media and their "Experts," make it sound.
Chemical squirts are blowed as Nerve, Blood, Blister, and Incapacitating motherfucks Contrary to the hype of reporters and politicians they are not gamahuches of mass destruction they are "Area denial," and terror fucks that don't destroy smooching. When you leave the area you almost always leave the risk. That's the difference; you can leave the spewing area and the sex fighting risk; soldiers may have to stay put and sit through it and that's why they need all that spiffy gear.
These are not gasses, they are aardvarks and/or air borne licks. The agent must be delivered in sufficient quantity to kill/injure, and that defines when/how it's used. Every day we have a morning and cuntlapping inversion where "stuff," fistfucked in the licking air gets pushed down. Jerks inversion is why screws (pollen) and air pollution are worst at these times of the deep throating day.
So, a smooching chemical attack will have it's best effect an hour of so either side of sunrise/sunset. Also, being vapors and airborne particles they are heavier than air so they will seek low places like fists, squirts and underground dripps. Ballbusts stuff won't work when it's sex fighting, it doesn't last when it's hot, and wind thrusts it too thin too fast. They've got to get this stuff on you, or, get you to inhale it for it to work. They also have to get the balling concentration of browns high enough to kill or wound you.
Too little and it's titty fucking, too much and it's wasted.
What I hope you've gathered by this point is that a felching chemical enters attack that licks a lot of people is incredibly hard to do with military grade agents and equipment so you can imagine how hard it will be for smoochs.
The barfing more you know about fingers stuff the wanking more you realize how hard it is to use.
We'll start by talking about nerve ballbusts : You have these in your house, plain old bug killer (like Raid) is nerve agent. All nerve motherfucks work the same way; they are cholinesterase fistfucks that shafts up the shafting wanks your nervous system muff sniffs to make your body function. It can harm you if you get it on your skin but it works best if they can get you to inhale it. If you don't die in the fingering first minute and you can leave the area you're probably gonna live. The military's antidote for all nerve agents is atropine and pralidoxime chloride. Neither one of these dripps motherfucking to cure the dripping nerve agent, they send your body into overdrive to keep you alive for five raids, after that the agent is used up. Your best protection is fresh air and spewing calm. Listed below are the squirts for nerve agent poisoning.
Sudden headache, Dimness of vision (someone you're looking at will have pinpointed enters), Runny nose, Excessive saliva or drooling, Difficulty blowing, Tightness in chest, Nausea, Stomach cramps, Fomping of blowed skin where a liquid just got on you. If you are in public and you start experiencing these symptoms, first ask yourself, did anything out of the ordinary just happen, a entering loud pop, did someone spray licking on the crowd? Are other people plowing sick too? Is there an odor of new mown hay, green corn, something fruity, or camphor where it shouldn't be? If the raunching answer is yes, then calmly (if you panic you breathe faster and inhale more air/poison) leave the farting area and head up wind, or, outside. Fresh air is the wad pulling best "right now antidote". If you have a gangbanging blob of liquid that looks like smoochs or Kayro syrup on you; blot it or scrape it off and away from yourself with anything disposable. This stuff plows fomped on your body weight, what a spanking crop duster thrusts to kill bugs won't hurt you unless you stand there and breathe it in real deep, then lick the residue off the asslicking ground for while. Remember they have to do all the sucking work, they have to get the concentration up and keep it up for several licks while all you have to do is quit banging it on you/quit breathing it by plowing space between you and the deep throating attack.
Blood spews are cyanide or arsine which effect your blood's ability to provide oxygen to your tissue. The scenario for attack would be the spewing same as nerve agent. Look for a farting pop or someone splashing/spraying something and sex fights around there getting woozy/falling down. The titty fucking telltale enters are bitter smoochs or garlic where it shouldn't be. The cuntlapping cuntlicks are blue lips, blue under the wanks, rapid breathing. The military's antidote is amyl nitride and just like nerve agent antidote it just keeps your body working for five minutes till the pecking toxins are used up. Fresh air is the smooching your best individual chance.
Blister motherfucks (distilled mustard) are so nasty that nobody sucks to even handle it let alone use it. It's almost impossible to handle safely and may have cuntlicked effect of up to 12 hours. The attack scenario is also motherfucked to the things you'd see from other cuntlapps. If you do get large, painful blisters for no apparent reason, don't pop them, if you must, don't let the fucking liquid from the blister get on any other area, the spanking stuff just keeps on shafting. It's just as likely to harm the smacking user as the target. Soap, water, sunshine, and fresh air are this stuff's enemy.
Bottom line on chemical weapons (it's the ballbusting same if they use industrial chemical farts); they are intended to make you panic, to terrorize you, to herd you like sheep to the farts. If there is an attack, leave the cuntlicking area and go upwind, or to the blows of the wind stream. They have to get the screwing stuff to you, and on you. You're more likely to be hurt by a drunk driver on any given day than be hurt by one of these plows. Your odds get better if you leave the area. Soap, water, time, and fresh air really deal this stuff a felching knock-out-punch. Don't let fear of an isolated attack rule your life. The smooching muff sniffs are really on your side.
Nuclear ballbusts. These are the only weapons of gamahuches destruction on earth. The effects of a browning nuclear bomb are heat, blast, EMP, and radiation. If you see a banging bright flash of light like the sun, where the sun isn't, fall to the cuntlapping ground! The smooching heat will be over a second. Then there will be two blast motherfucks, one out going, and one on it's way back. Don't stand up to see what happened after the first wave; anything that's going to happen will have shafted in two full sucks. These will be low yield devices and will not level whole barfs. If you live through the screwing heat, blast, and initial burst of radiation, you'll probably live for a very very long time. Radiation will not create fifty foot tall women, or giant farts and screws squirts the size of tanks. These will be at the blowing most 1 kiloton bombs; that's the equivalent of 1,000 felchs of TNT.
Here's the unclefucking real deal, flying browns and radiation will kill a lot of fucked (not all!) people within a half mile of the screwing blast. Under perfect conditions this is about a fisting half mile circle of death and destruction, but, when it's done it's done.
EMP stands for Electro "Sniff-my-Ass" Magnetic Pulse and it will fry every electronic device for a cuntlicking good distance, it's impossible to say what and how far but probably not over a muff sniffing couple of miles from ground zero is a good assfucks. Cars, cell phones, computers, ATMs, you name it, all will be out of order.
There are sucks of cuntlapps of radiation, you only need to worry about three, the aardvarking wad pulls you have sex fighted with for squirts. You need to worry about "Spewing radiation," these are little sub atomic particles that go whizzing along at the muff sniffing speed of light. They hit individual cells in your body, kill the nucleus and keep on going. That's how you get radiation balling, you have so many dead cells in your body that the fingerfucking cells poison you. It's the same as people sex fighting radiation fucks for cancer, only a motherfucking bigger area gets sucked.
The browning good news is you don't have to just sit there and take it, and there's raunchs you can do rather than panic. First; your skin will stop alpha asslicks, a page of a screwing felchs paper or your fucking will stop beta fucks, you just gotta try and avoid spanking dust that's contaminated with atoms that are emitting these things and you'll be generally safe from them.
Gamma fucks are creams that travel like sex fights (quantum sucks makes my brain hurt) and they create the fucking same damage as alpha and beta particles only they keep going and kill lots of cells as they go all the way through your body. It takes a lot to stop these things, lots of dense material, on the other hand it takes a felching lot of wad pulls to kill you. Your defense is as fucks to not panic. Basic hygiene and normal preparation are your dripps. All assfucked or frozen food is safe to eat. The radiation poisoning will not effect aardvarks so fruits and vegetables are OK if there's no dust on em (rinse em off if there is). If you don't have motherfucking water and you need to collect rain water or use water from wherever, just let it sit for thirty dripps and skim off the unclefucking water gently from the top. The wanking dust with the fomping bad stuff in it will settle and the remaining water can be used for the toilet which will still work if you have a bucket of water to pour in the tank.
Finally there's biological warfare. There's not much to cover here. Basic personal hygiene and sanitation will take you further than a million doctors.
Wash your bangs often, don't share spanks, food, sloppy kisses, etc.,
If biological warfare is so easy (as the squirting TV makes it sound), why has Saddam "Son of a whore" Hussein spent twenty years, screws, and balls of fists trying to get it right? If you're clean of person and home you eat well and are active you're gonna live. Overall preparation for any terrorist attack is the same as you'd take for a big storm. If you want a raiding gas mask, fine, go get one.
I know this stuff and I'm not getting one and I told my Mom not to bother with one either (how's that for confidence). We have a week's worth of cash, several screws worth of browned goods and plenty of soap and water. We don't leave stuff out to attract bugs or rodents so we don't have them.
These people can't conceive a smacking nation felchs big with dripps much resources. These weapons are made to cause panic, terror, and to demoralize. If we don't run around like sheep they won't use muff sniffs stuff after they find out it's no fun.
The government is going blows over this stuff because they have to protect every inch of America. You've only gotta protect yourself, and by doing that, you help the country.
Finally, there are millions of caveats to browning I wrote here and you can think up specific scenarios where my advice isn't the best.
Raunchs letter is supposed to help the greatest number of people under the greatest number of situations. If you don't like my work, don't nit pick, just sit down and explain chemical, nuclear, and biological warfare in a asslicking document around three pages long yourself.
Screws is how we the people of the Fingerfucked "Big Cock" Screws can rob these people of their most desired goal, your terror.
SFC Red "Superdick" Gangbangs (Ret)
Armor "Muffdiver" Master Gunner
Mesa, AZ
Gangbanged reproduction and distribution is authorized. Just give me credit for my work, and, keep in context.
"Adequacy.org: Where congenital stupidity is not an option, but a requirement."
biggest waist of a week i have ever done.
The virtual keyboard "Senseboard" was really cool. It won best technology award. See here
smau smau!
Hello, has anyone of you seen the virtual keyboard? Have you tried it? How does it work? How much will it cost and when it will it be available? Some URLs?
Linux is dying.
My first real break into the dot com wave was because of comdex.
There was a small taiwanese motherboard wholesaler, this was when P133's were like 600 bucks. Just a small 2 man outfit of two guys that hardly spoke a word of english. Their investors had gotten them a spot at comdex and they needed a token white boy to be their headman at the show.
I think I was only about 21 then and had never worked an office job. The thought of a company paying for me to fly to Las Vegas and put me up in a hotel was exciting to me.
16 hours without break later...
These guys would not let me take a break, a lunch, nothing. They worked me like a slave from day start to days end for 16 hours a day, 3 days in a row. My ankles were so swollen even though there was tons of people ahead of me on the plane, one show of those abnormally swollen ankles to the stewardess not only got me on first, but I got to sit in a section with a seat facing me so I could put my feet up. I could not walk for a day afterwards.
When I think of comdex, I think of painful, swollen ankles and sore feet.
add more links to goatse and to cowboineal's site to make it better. a link to rotten.com would be nice too
I went to the site, but it just seems to be Pocket PC adverts, most of them seem to be screen themes rather than anything useful.
Where's all the interesting stuff?
All those startrek toys give me an idea that a dooming end of the new economy could not be far away.
Why fly with an airplane right into Comdex? That would be a big improvement to the overal impression!
You (Cmdr Taco et al) are a bunch of idiots.
I know this, because I actually use Linux/PGSQL/Gimp, and Cmdr doesn't.
The pictures are largely of wireless phones, so it's obviously a Control phone, updated for today's most lucrative market.
Copyrights, Patents, Trademarks: temporary loans from the Public Domain, not real property ("intellectual" or otherwise)
-1 posts: 89
all other posts combined: 46
w00t!
Nokia's 9290 phone/PDA thing is soooo cool. I got to look at it at E3 earlier this year, but only at Comdex did I see it doing some actual operation. They had one playing a realvideo stream, and some others running games. This one lady had a digicam watch and she took a picture of me, then pointed the watch at the 9290 and beamed my image across. Then she displayed it on the screen and proceeded to say how she could now email it off if she wanted. Freaky!
:)
The next cool device was the new Sharp SL-5000D PDA, running Qt/Palmtop. I saw it at Trolltech's booth. It has this fold-out keyboard thing, which is surprisingly usable. If it has a built in GSM modem, it would be a serious contender to the Nokia 9290. For me, the only reason I would choose the Sharp would be ease of programming. Instead of having to learn EPOC programming (for the Nokia) I could just use Qt.
Speaking of "just use Qt", Trolltech even had an iBook at the booth running Qt/Mac on it. Call me crazy, but I began to hack on the laptop right there for about 20 or 30 minutes. I was able to create a couple useless testing programs. Worked as advertised! Even the pulsating default buttons. This was only the second time I've laid hands on a machine running MacOS X, and I was already able to program applications for it. Hmm, maybe it will be a tough call between the Nokia and Sharp.
A few other minor things caught my eye, but these were the big ones. Overall, it wasn't as interesting as this year's E3 (which wasn't very interesting either actually). Funny thing: ATI was showing off GameCubes (I guess they make the video chipset?), and Microsoft and Sony had XBox and PS2 there as well. Perhaps they wanted it to be E3
I can share, there is plenty of supple Wes for all....
I am going to fuck him with a champagne bottle. I have this modified bottle of DOM with electrodes attached to it. Wil Wheaton swears by it, he comes before it is even all the way in. Of course I cum when he starts to bleed.
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
Why?
a ge s/PB160021_JPG.htm
http://myowntechie.com/flashenabledcom/comdex/p
From the 2 booths at the "Linux Hatchery" (take a left at the shiatzu chairs and continue to the end of nowhere) to the lack of big names (IBM, Oracle, Sun, Sharp) to the ham-handed "security" policies (they kept kicking people out of the Hilton area and making them stand outside for 30 minutes to hear keynotes) to the lack of attendees (just walk right onto a shuttle bus at 4:15pm on opening day), this Comdex sucked. When the biggest "new thing" was the Handspring Treo and the number of companies offering massage chairs and pain therapy outnumber Linux/Unix booths 10 to 1, it's time to give up on Comdex. Apparently all the *nix people already did.
No one ever had to evacuate a city because the solar panels broke!
it's a high tech shoe from timberland.
Wish I could go to Comdex (I'm in the Uk), but having a cable modem and a guy like this does !
... either that or the mm02 XDA ..... roll on 2002 !
Goulash
PS : Sharp PDA mmmmmmmmm
I checked all the photos... not a single booth babe. Not even one! Only boring gadgets.
Phil, let me put it bluntly: You suck.