Slashdot Mirror
March Netcraft survey
awptic writes "The March Netcraft survey is out.
Among the changes is a 4% increase in the number of websites
running IIS, primarily due, however, to register.com's domain
name parking service switching to mostly IIS servers, which account for over 2 million
of the 38 million sites surveyed.
Ironically, a large number of the websites were defaced shortly
thereafter."
Somebody recently, modded me up !!!
Help me getting back to -1 !
Smile, don't click...
"but don't you think the murder of a human being is just despicable?!?"
Um, no...
In this case, I'll make an exception.
...stinks
it's not from voltaire
you'd better fly to Palestina to defend the oppressed population instead showing us you're a moron.
Smile, don't click...
More on news.bbc.co.uk soon
Calling someone a moron while posting as an anonymous coward is seriously lame dude, go and play somewhere else.
God, he was beat at every turn. Frustrated at every corner. No good thoughts or beautiful visions before the moment of truth. Only blackness, a life of dull, planned movements as consistent and boring as a bran-concious geriatrics bowel movement. For a moment he thought he might cry.
The reality of the situation settled on Harry like a heavy, woollen coat. He was about to kill or be killed, right here in this dog-smelling pit, and there was nothing he could do that would change that. He thought perhaps his life should flash before his eyes or something, but it did not. Maybe he should try to think of something wonderful, a last fine thought of what used to be. First he summoned up the image of his wife. That did nothing for him. Though his wife had once been pretty and bright, he could not remember her that way. The image that came to mind was quite different. A dumpy, lazy woman with constant back pains and her hair pulled up into an eternal top-knot of greasy, brown hair. There was never a smile on her face or a word of encouragement for him. He always felt that she expected him to entertain her and that he was not doing a very good job of it. There was not even a moment of sexual ecstacy that he could recall. After their daughter had been born she had given up screwing as a wasted excercise. Why waste energy on sex when she could spend it complaining.
He flipped his mental cardfile to his daughter. What he saw was an ugly, potato-nosed girl of twelve. She had no personality. Her mother was Miss Congeniality compared to her. Potato-nose spend all her time pining over thin, blond heartthrobs on television. It wasn't bad enough that they glared at Harry via the tube, they were also pinned to her walls and hiding in magazines she had cast throughout the house.
These were the last thoughts of a man about to face death?
There was just nothing there.
The owls are not what they seem
the word's "collar".
you dolt.
:)
>FWIW, piranha don't get vicious until they're
>thoroughly starved, and there are several species
>of vegetarian Piranha.
See, I *told* you being a vegetarian was a bad idea. Even Piranhas know it makes you taste better . .
hawk