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Animate Your LILO
clarkie.mg writes: "Most linux users still see the four letters LILO when booting the PC. It's now possible to have some cool graphics at boot time with the animated LILO. You can even play a game !" Be careful of the French.
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Imagine a beowulf cluster of these!
[King Arthur music]
[clop clop clop]
ARTHUR:
Halt!
[horn]
Hallo!
[pause]
Hallo!
FRENCH GUARD:
Allo! Who is eet?
ARTHUR:
It is King Arthur, and these are my Knights of the Round Table. Whose castle is this?
FRENCH GUARD:
This is the castle of my master, Guy de Loimbard.
ARTHUR:
Go and tell your master that we have been charged by God with a sacred quest. If he will give us a HowTo, he can join us in our quest for the Graphical Bootloader.
FRENCH GUARD:
Well, I'll ask him, but I don't think he'll be very keen. Uh, he's already got one, you see.
ARTHUR:
What?
GALAHAD:
He says they've already got one!
ARTHUR:
Are you sure he's got one?
FRENCH GUARD:
Oh, yes. It's very nice-a. (I told him we already got one.)
FRENCH GUARD:S
[chuckling]
ARTHUR:
Well, u-- um, can we come up and have a look?
FRENCH GUARD:
Of course not! You are Linux open-source types-a!
ARTHUR:
Well, what are you, then?
FRENCH GUARD:
I'm French! Why do think I have this outrageous accent, you silly king-a?!
GALAHAD:
What are you doing in England?
FRENCH GUARD:
Mind your own business!
ARTHUR:
If you will not show us the Grail, we shall take your castle by force!
FRENCH GUARD:
You don't frighten us, Linux pig-dogs! Go and boil your bottom, sons of a silly person. I blow my nose at you, so-called Arthur King, you and all your silly Linux k-nnnnniggets. Thpppppt! Thppt! Thppt!
GALAHAD:
What a strange person.
ARTHUR:
Now look here, my good man--
FRENCH GUARD:
I don't wanna talk to you no more, you empty headed animal food trough wiper! I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!
GALAHAD:
Is there someone else up there we could talk to?
FRENCH GUARD:
No. Now, go away, or I shall taunt you a second time-a!
[sniff]
From June 1971 to May 1997 I spent 26 years of my life in a State Penitentiary for First Degree Murder and Assault. Where the prison is, is irrelevant. The shit that happened to me in there, I may talk about one day, but that day is not today. Stile asked me to write about what its like to kill a person, and what its like to be free after doing it. In January 1970 I was 22 years old, about to graduate college and get on with my life. Unfortunately, I was nearly 50 years old before I was able to really do this. My senior year of college I was at a party with my girlfriend. We had a few drinks and were on this balcony over a frat house throwing bottles at cars in the street below. (Okay, maybe she wasn't, but she was watching me) It probably wasn't the best idea, but hey, I was wasted. The sound of breaking glass is that much better when you are drunk. Anyway, some frat boys saw me tossing shit off the balcony and got pissed. A few of them grabbed me and tried to kick me out of their house. The actually threw me down the stairs and then pulled me out the door, punching and kicking me as they went. I tried to fight back, but there was like 5 or 6 of the pricks. I got in a few punches, but I was on the losing end of that scuffle. So I am standing outside in the snow waiting for my girlfriend. After about 20 min, I decided to just go home, after all she was a big girl, and I was bleeding and cold. She drove, so I walked bout 2 miles home in the snow, leaving a trail of blood the whole way. I had this sweet cut around my eye and my nose felt broken. I got home and passed out on the floor of the bathroom. The next morning I got up and looked for my girlfriend. There was still vomit and blood on the floor, so I figured she never came home. This got me kinda worried, but I figured she just went to her place. I gave her a call and talked to her roommate. Evidently she hadn't been there either. Now I was worried. As it turned out, my girl of a year and a half, decided she would stay at the party. She started making out with the same pricks that just kicked my ass. She was drunk, but that's still really fucked up. I wanted to kill her, until I heard the rest of her story. What happened was, after she sobered up a bit, she decided to get the fuck out of there, but these frat boy mother fuckers stopped her. They kept telling her she had to stay and "help them out". These fuckers decided that they would try to get her to suck them all off. When she wouldn't, they held her down and took turns raping her. They finally let her go and she went to the hospital. She spent the night in the emergency room because she was bleeding a lot. I was crushed. She called the cops and filed a report. 3 months later 4 of them came to trial. I sat in the court room listening to testimony from my girl friend about how they savagely raped her, it was enough to drive anyone crazy. I then had to listen to these fuckers paint my girlfriend out to be a whore, and how it was consensual. The judge basically called her a slut and sent the frat boys on there way. I was so fucking mad I didn't know what to do. I thought about it for a few weeks. I knew I had to get even with these fuckers, but I didn't know what to do. I decided I would go to one of their party's and vandalize their house. Hopefully they wouldn't remember me and I could get away with straight fucking their shit up. On April 27th, 1970 I knocked on the door to the frat house. The guy who opened the door was one of the guys who raped my girlfriend. He recognized me immediately. Before any of us could say anything, I pulled out a pen and stabbed him 4 times in the neck. I was in shock. I had never seen so much blood in my life. He just kinda grabbed his neck and fell to the floor. He just looked up at me, rolled his eyes back and died. He just laid there. No one did a fucking thing. I closed the door and ran. I had my car there but I just kept running. Once again I made the 2 mile trek. this time the blood on my hands wasn't mine. Two hours later the cops picked me up. About a year later I was sentenced to 25 years to life for first degree murder. Since then I have tried to answer the question in my own head a million time. Why did I do it? Stile asked the the same question, and truthfully I don't know. I never had any intention of doing it. I just snapped. But I don't regret it at all. I can't say I would do it again if I had to do it over, but I certainty don't regret it. I think my main regret is that I only killed one of them. My girlfriend stayed with me for about a year after I was sentenced, but then she graduated and moved away. I haven't heard from her since. It broke my heart. That was the worst part. She was my life... Some of you may wonder what it is like in prison. Well, it is rough. when i first got there they treated me like i was a piece of meat. Many times in the night I was woken up by my cellmate, and he would force me to suck his cock. At first I tried to fight back, but he wa a lot bigger then I was, and would bash my head against the cold metal bars when I refused. After having my front teeth knocked out and five concussions I eventually gave in. He was a huge black guy and his cock must have been 12 inches. I really feel for girls that are raped, because now I know what it is like. The worst part is that they would make me swallow their cum, which tastes sort of like shnot. It is disgusting. After my cellmate would make me suck his cock, he then decided that it was time to fuck me up the ass. I was so scared, my legs were shaking. He spit in his hand and whiped it all over his dick, pulled my pants down and shoved his cock into my ass. I scream, it fucking hurt more than anything i ever felt in my life. I could feel my insides being torn open, and after what seemed like an eternity he came inside me, pulled his dick out and wiped it off on my face. I lay there in a pool of my own blood, shit and cum all over my face, and bloog and cum dripped out of my asshole. I needed 50 stiches around my asshole because it was torn the size of a grapefruit, and i couldnt walk for days. At least my farts don't make a sound when I let one go any more.
Quick google image search netted me zero occurances of my laptop (Dell Inspiron 4000) xrayed.
Anyone know how to get one outside of going to the airport running my laptop through the conveyor belt and asking "Can I get a snapshot of that?" at the security desk and getting myself thrown in jail?
Yeah, but how am I supposed to d/l all that sweet pr0n before my system's up? And don't gimme that "get a new pastime" hokum!
"If he thinks he can hide and run from the United States and our allies, he's sorely mistaken." Bush on bin Laden
french (french)
tr.v. frenched, frenching, frenches
- To cut (green beans, for example) into thin strips before cooking.
- To trim fat or bone from (a chop, for example).
- or French Slang. To give a French kiss to.
- Vulgar Slang. To perform oral sex on.
I am 200 % sure that it's definition 1 that applies. FYI, they don't grow in 1 kg bags in your K-mart freezer, they're cut (frenched) from potatoes !Stop stealing our Belgian national pride !
Well until someone has been to Belgium they can't appreciate good chips ( aka French Fries ). ;)
Jumpstart the tartan drive.
There's nothing really special about them, we just bake them twice as they are meant to.
AND MUST BE DESTROYED!
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This comment is very appropriate but wrong (and it is off-topic, just like this reply). I am the author of the page mentioned in this story, and I come from Belgium, not from France.
And everybody knows that the French Fries should be called Belgian Fries...
-Raphaël