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DotGNU Meet-a-thon
Gopal.V writes "It's time for the Quarterly DotGNU IRC Meet-a-thon. As usual, we'll be having it on #dotgnu on irc.openprojects.net. We will be discussing the current state of DotGNU, where we've gone and where we should be headed. Anyone who is interested should join us. In particular, we are not only looking for developers to be involved in this meet, but also potential DotGNU users. We are very interested in addressing any questions/input from anyone who will one day use our framework. So come one, come all. The last meet was a lot of fun and we expect this this IRC meet will be even better than the last. Again, the IRC meet is taking place on: Server: irc.openprojects.net, Channel: #dotgnu. The meeting will run for a 36 hour period from 22:00 UTC Saturday 29 July 2002 until 10:00 UTC Monday 31 July. Every 4 hours will be an official meet time, when the major DotGNU members will be online. Most discussions will revolve round DotGNU projects and other issues concerning freedom in the new MS initiatives like .NET , and Palladium." I think this announcement may be slightly wrong on the times since it disagrees with the post to the email list; but this is posted as submitted.
Magical showtime!
A surge of adrenaline raced through my body at the sound of her voice. I
couldn't remember whether the hose I was holding started soaking the my
trousers before or after it slipped from my hand and fell dancing down to the grass. It had to have been before I supposed, because the arc of water was rising no higher than my ankle before falling back down directly on the laces of my tennis shoe. It couldn't possibly have drenched my trousers, and the bottom of my shirt I noticed, from where it lay now. It was odd, I remember thinking, how my senses slowly returned one at a time, like someone walking through a house and clicking on lamps. The cold, clinging feeling of the pants leg. The warmth of the August sun on my forehead. The tickle on my cheek as a bead of sweat overcame the friction of skin and a peach-fuzz growth on my cheek and tumbled down my face. The smells of flowers in the garden, and freshly mown grass, and a faint taste of chlorine from the pool next door. And the symphony of summer afternoon sounds; of the water cascading off my tennis shoe; of the rustle of the short trees and bushes in the garden; of a car driving by; of birds chirping; of the splash and laughter from the pool. Each sound distinct, and perfectly clear, as if it were isolated from all others. And the voice, the sound of a voice. My mind raced to collect itself. I remember straining to remember the voice, and why it seemed so damned important right now. My sight at last caught up and resynchronized with my other senses and everything finally fell into place. I remember stupidly jerking my head around in a futile hope that it was all just a dream...that it wasn't true at all. But as I twisted my head to the left, there was Lisa Dobbins, and Kate, and Deborah sunning themselves in lounge chairs by the side of their pool, their young firm breasts scarcely concealed under tight bikini tops. Turning my head back around to examine my soaked clothing
I found my rock hard cock just where I left it, securely in the grip of my
right hand. And finally turning my head slowly again up and to the right to
look at owner of the voice, her eyes wide and lips parted.
Although I'd have a hard time ever convincing anyone of it, I honestly didn't
know about Lisa Dobbins' swimming pool when I offered to water old Mrs.
Johnson's garden on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. I took on the job of watering Mrs. Johnson's yard after reading an ad she'd posted at the campus employment office. "Watering and light garden work. Three hours a week. $3.00/Hr." Our family had known Mrs. Johnson for years, and I remembered her giving my brothers and I quarters and cokes when we'd cut her grass in the summertime. She had an enormous garden beside her house that took up a lot big enough to build another house on comfortably, and I guessed that with her husband passing away several years ago, and with her getting older, probably in her early sixties by now, the place was just getting to be too much for her to handle on her own. She seemed very pleased when I knocked on her door and explained I'd come in response to her ad. She gave me a coke and explained what was to be done in the yard and pressed me for information about my brothers and family. When I'd finished my first day of work she tried to pay me, but I refused, explaining that I was happy to do the work for free. She persisted for a time, but eventually gave in and snapped three limp one-dollar bills back into her change purse. I'd always liked old Mrs. Johnson.
It wasn't until several weeks later that I heard the girl's laughing voices, mixed with the sounds of splashing and Top 40 blasting on the radio, come drift over the hedge. It took a minute of searching before I found a bare spot in the tall dense bushes and peeked through to find the source of the sounds. Mrs. Johnson's garden sat half way up a large steep hill, and looking down across two adjacent yards I saw the pool. When I saw Lisa Dobbins dancing in a bikini next to the pool my cock sprang up so fast and hard I thought it would rip out the fly of my jeans. Describing Lisa as hot was like saying the Rocky Mountains were a bunch of bumps on the ground. She was more than hot, she was unbelievable. She was the first girl in my class at Rivermont Junior High to develop, and she had, hands down, the largest, firmest set of breasts in the entire school. And she knew it too. She was always wearing tight sweaters or blouses with the buttons undone just enough to expose an edge of her lacy white bras. I soiled boxes of tissues that year, and the next, and the next after that fantasizing about Lisa.
Now that it was summer, Lisa was at the pool nearly every afternoon that I
worked in Mrs. Johnson's yard. It was maybe the fourth or fifth time I spied
on her from behind the hedge that my hand, almost beyond my control, unzipped my pants. The thrill of jerking myself off outdoors, that someone might see me, combined with the sensation of the breeze blowing over my naked shaft and the sight of Lisa's huge tits bouncing to the beat of the music was indescribable. I spurted my hot cum into the hedges then stuffed myself quickly back into my pants, looking all around to make sure no one saw me. I guess I'd grown overly confident and less cautious as the summer crept on, and now...
"What in the world..." the voice had said. I looked Mrs. Johnson's surprised expression, and started to follow her gaze until I realized she was staring at the stiff rod of flesh protruding from my hips, then looked quickly back up to study her face. I didn't see what I'd expected. Her eyes and the corners of her lips were smiling through the look of shock on her face, and I relaxed slightly. She seemed to hear the music at that moment and her eyes broke away from my penis for a moment to look up through the bare spot in the hedge. Her face took on a look of understanding as her eyes returned to my cock, still wrapped in my fingers I realized, then back to my face.
"Put that thing away," she instructed in mock severity, "and come on inside so we can dry those clothes."
Still frozen, I watched her turn and start back towards the house. She was
still quite active for a woman of her age. Not fat, but 'thickening,' and her
hair made up in a kind of pageboy style almost touching her shoulders was still dark through the streaks of gray. The creases framing her quick blue eyes described a face that had laughed far more than scowled. Was it my imagination, or were her hips swaying as she walked up the steps to the back porch? I remember thinking it odd how my penis stiffened anew as she paused at the back door to look back at me and wave me inside. I realized stupidly that I was still standing there with a fountain of water pouring down over my left tennis shoe and my cock still clutched in my hand. I quickly stuffed myself back into my pants as my brain scrambled to decide what to do. I could simply walk home and change clothes, but the thought of walking in waterlogged shoes and half-soaked clothes was not appealing. On the other hand, having to go inside her house, and look her in the face again made me redden with shame.
Don't just stand here....do something, I thought to myself. I walked over to
the side of the house and turned off the hose, stood up straight, looked at
the back door, then looked at the gate that led to the sidewalk. What the
hell, I thought, she's already seen me like this, and I do need to dry out my
clothes, and....I started at the realization that my cock was still straining
against the fabric of my jeans. I turned and headed up the back porch steps.
As the back door closed behind me Mrs. Johnson called from somewhere in the house, "Don't go tracking water all through my house. Take your clothes off in the kitchen. I'm coming with a basket." I hesitated for a moment then started removing my clothes, stripping all the way down to my underwear and placing the clothes in a single heap on the tile floor of the kitchen. I was somewhat relieved to discover my prick was calming down slightly and no longer pushing out the front of my underwear. She had her air conditioner running and I shivered briefly as goose bumps erupted all over my body.
I heard her footsteps a second before she appeared in the doorway holding a plastic laundry basket in front of her. She stopped a few feet in front of me and set the basket down next to my pile of wet clothes. I bent down to put the clothes in the basket and detected a scent of perfume that, much to my horror, triggered another erection. I let my eyes dance over her body as I stood back up straight. Painted toenail showing through a pair of sturdy, practical sandals; pants made out of a dark blue elastic material, spandex perhaps, that was loose around her ankles but stretched tighter around her large thighs and ample, rounded hips; a white, button-down blouse, the kind you don't tuck in, that hung straight down around her hips and, like the pants, got tighter the higher you looked; the buttons of the blouse straining to contain two enormous, pillowy breasts; a chin of soft tan flesh; full lips painted bright red (had she had lipstick on before?); and bright blue eyes, not sharp and quick, but soft and glassy.
"Those too," she demanded, nodding towards my underwear, "they're wet too."
She noticed the hesitation in my face and added, "It's not like I haven't seen your thing before."
Her lips parted slightly and her head moved almost imperceptibly, her face
straining with controlled excitement.
I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my shorts and pulled them forward to clear my full erection, and then balanced awkwardly first on one foot and then the other as I pulled them completely off and added them to the damp pile in the laundry basket. Standing there naked, fully exposed to her lustful gaze, felt like that first time I'd masturbated in the garden. My senses were fully aroused.
"Wait right here," she said picking up the basket and walking out of the
kitchen. "I'll bring you a towel." When she'd left the room I reached down
and started stroking my penis, trying to visualize Lisa Dobbins' breasts
moving to the beat of the music, but finding my thoughts returning again and again to blue stretch pants and wondering what lay behind the straining buttons of the white cotton blouse. I pulled my hand away when I heard the sound of the drier starting and seated myself at the kitchen table. That would at least provide me partial concealment. She walked back into the kitchen carrying a towel and bathrobe with a large floral print. She draped the bathrobe over the back of one of the chairs and stepped around behind me.
"Let's get you dried off," she said unfolding the towel and draping it over my shoulders. She started rubbing my skin with the towel and the scent of her perfume sent a thrill down to my loins again.
"Thanks. I uh, I can..." I attempted.
"Stand up so I can get all of you," she urged.
So much for concealment. I slid the chair back and stood facing her as she
moved the towel over my chest and arms. I obeyed when she told me to raise my arms over my head so she could dry my sides. She moved the towel around to my back with her right hand and encircled the other side of my body with her left so that she could use both hands on the towel to dry my back. This awkward embrace pressed our bodies together blanketing my throbbing shaft between my hips and her ample white cotton covered stomach. Her body pressed up and down against mine as she strained to move the towel up and down my back reaching as far up my back as she could and then back down towards my buttocks. My cock strained, as if it could grow any larger or harder, as the up and down motion of her body rubbed against me.
Finishing with my back, Mrs. Johnson leaned back slightly and brought her arms back around to the front. She started to bend over to dry my legs, but
letting out a groan of discomfort, decided instead to get down on her knees in front of me. Once in place she started working the towel over my feet and ankles, alternating between my legs while moving slowly up past my knees. I had let my hands drop back down to my sides but felt awkward so returned them back over my head. This felt even more awkward, so I crossed my arms across my chest, which didn't feel any less awkward, and finally just allowed them to dangle at my sides again.
"Spread your legs," she asked?
"Pardon," I replied?
"Your legs, I need to get in here," she explained pressing her towel-covered hands on the insides of my upper thigh.
I spread my legs as requested, and she continued her work up my legs, brushing my balls a couple of times with the towel as she worked. At last she came to the last part that needed drying. She cupped my balls with one hand and roughly toweled my cock with the other.
"Well," she sighed, wadding the towel up and setting it down on the floor
beside her while leaning back to admire her work. She looked up at me and at last let a smile replace the business-like look on her face. She wet one half of her bottom lip with her tongue as her eyes turned back down to examine my cock.
"I see you've developed into quite a young man," she said teasingly. "Those naughty girls next door seem to have worked you into quite a frenzy. I guess I....disturbed you before you had a chance to cum."
"Well I..." I started. Her use of the word, "cum" caught me completely off
guard. Hearing her say it sent a thrill of excitement through me and my cock twitched once uncontrollably. "Well I wasn't really....uh...I mean."
"It's ok," she laughed. "Masturbation is a perfectly natural act. Goodness
knows I do it often enough now that Henry's...." her voice trailed off and
there was a far away look in her eyes for an instant. Her eyes sharpened
again as quickly as they'd drifted off, "Anyway, the point is we all
masturbate silly, it's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Well yeah, it's...well it's not like I couldn't have...you know...sex if I
wanted....with a girl I mean," I stuttered, embarrassed more now that I couldn't seem to form words than the fact that I was standing in naked in Mrs. Johnson's kitchen while she was staring at my stiff cock. Mrs. Johnson's eyes lit up in amused excitement, and I wondered if she could tell that I'd never had sex with a girl before.
"Well of course, silly. It looks like you're still all worked up over those
girls, wouldn't you like to finish masturbating now?"
"Well...uh...yeah, I guess," I said not quite believing I was saying this. Jerk
off in front of Mrs. Johnson? I couldn't believe I was even considering this,
and yet the excitement of it nearly caused my hips to start rocking back and forth on their own.
"Well go ahead," she prodded grinning broadly.
I closed my eyes and slowly moved my hand down and gripped my swollen organ. Slowly and awkwardly I started moving my fingers up and down the shaft and soon the last shreds of embarrassment were replaced by lust and desire.
"Oh, that's nice," Mrs. Johnson whispered, her broad smile dissolving into
lusty concentration as she watched me work my cock in and out of my hand.
"Those girls down at the pool are so cute, don't you think? And that one, the one who lives there. She's got really big boobs. My bedroom window looks out over that pool, and do you know that sometimes at night she goes swimming by herself completely naked. She really has very lovely boobs."
The thought of Lisa Dobbins skinny dipping, the water dripping off her large firm tips and tiny pink nipples, caused my hand to start moving faster as I drew in a quick, sharp breath. Oddly I couldn't seem to hold the vision of her in my mind. My thoughts kept creeping back to...I opened my eyes.
"Feel good," she asked? Mrs. Johnson had moved from kneeling on the floor to sitting, with her legs extended fully out and slightly parted. She was
leaning back on one arm with her head resting on that shoulder, while her
other hand was moving in a large, lazy triangle from her breast, down her
stomach, between her legs, and back up to her other breast.
"Oh Mrs. Johnson," I sighed.
"My name is Sandi," she replied with a deeper, sultry voice.
We continued watching each other. My strokes continued fairly regularly. She was touching herself more forcefully now, squeezing her breasts roughly and rubbing harder between her legs as her hand continued tracing a triangle on her flesh.
"Would you like....would you like to put your penis in my mouth," she asked, looking up hopefully in my eyes.
Again the unexpected words sent a thrill through my stomach and I nearly
dropped my hot sticky load all over her kitchen floor.
"Oh yeah, yes Sandi, please," I begged.
She lost no time in scrambling to her knees before me. Her hands felt soft
and warm as they closed around my balls and the base of my shaft while my own reached out and started stroking her hair. Her lips closed over the very tip of my cock and I could feel her tongue lapping up the pre-cum.
"Ummm, I haven't tasted a man's cum in so long," she said, and then sucked more than half my cock into her mouth in one quick movement.
I have no idea how I managed not to cum fully in her mouth at that instant.
The heat of her mouth sent chills through my body. I could feel her tongue
pressing against the bottom of my shaft as her head bobbed back and forth, driving my throbbing cock again and again into the silky moisture of her mouth. Her hands squeezed and tugged expertly on the base of my cock and my balls. My excitement accelerated madly and I found myself grabbing her hair and thrusting my hips back and forth. As the tension peaked and I felt myself slipping past the point of no return I remember trying to pull back to avoid cumming in her mouth. The thought of all that hot sticky goo gushing into her mouth seemed somehow dirty and wrong. I thought that I at least ought to warn her, but all I could manage was a guttural animal grunt as I let go of her hair and my cock began to spasm uncontrollably. My orgasm doubled in intensity when I noticed that instead of reeling back in disgust, Sandi pressed her face harder into me and used her hands to milk every last drop of cum from my cock and balls.
I stood still for a moment, feeling the chill on my skin as the perspiration
evaporated from my body. Sandi continued sucking and licking my cock clean as my mind replayed the instant of orgasm. When Sandi paused in her work, I bent over and helped her to stand up. She immediately pressed her body tightly against me, wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace, and tilting her face up towards mine. I leaned my head down and kissed her lips, lightly at first but more forcefully as she returned the kiss. She pressed her body even more tightly against mine as her lips parted and her tongue probed tentatively into my mouth. My tongue played briefly with hers, then slipped past the threshold of our lips and into the silky, moist warmth of her mouth. I was startled and excited to discover the taste of my cum in her mouth.
She pulled back and led me by the hand down a narrow hallway into her bedroom.
The sight of her bedroom renewed my excitement in a way that's hard to
describe. The room was just what you'd expect to see in your grandmother's house. White lace doilies covering the tops of her dresser, night tables, and a small round table set against the wall. Pictures in small frames, small ceramic figurines, and simple clay pots of houseplants atop the doilies. A crocheted afghan was folded neatly atop a patchwork quilt covering an enormous four-poster bed. I pressed her head down onto a starched white pillowcase with the lace-covered edges and continued kissing her mouth and face. My hands started moving over her body, lustily drinking in the soft mounds under her blouse and full, mature hips.
I unbuttoned her blouse slowly, sucking and kissing each new patch of soft
pale skin. When the last button fell away, I worked my way back up her torso, pausing a long time to fondle her enormous breasts through the sturdy fabric of a bra obviously built for functionality rather than style. I returned to her mouth, once again probing deeply with my tongue as I rolled her on her side towards me and started working the hooks of her bra. When the last hook gave way, I pushed her back down on her back and went back to exploring her chest with my mouth and hands. With long lingering touches and kisses I slowly moved the cups of her bra up and over her large soft tits. Concentrating on one at a time, I scooped it up into my hands, pushing the nipples up to my mouth. Her nipples were huge and surrounded by the dark oval of her equally large areolas. I spent a long time sucking, licking and gently biting her nipples as she moaned in delight and offered suggestions.
"Oh yessss....ummm....suck it harder...harder.....oh yes....now the other.....oh that's so good."
My erection, which had never completely gone away was complete again, and as I moved around her body, first on one side, then on top of her, then the other side, I found myself pressing and rubbing my cock against her hips and legs and down between her legs still covered by the blue stretch pants. I returned again to her mouth, kissing and sucking her lips, our tongues playing together in her mouth, then mine, and then hers again. My fingers continued to explore her body with all the excitement of a kid in a candy store, slowly moving under the waistband of her pants, feeling her large loose ass, and descending ever closer to the treasure between her legs. With each new probe I pushed her pants an inch further down over her hips until at last I was fondling the soft patch of fine hairs.
She let out a very deep, long moan as my fingers gently touched and probed her pussy.
"Ummm, ohhh...yes, rub there...oh yessss...that feels sooo good."
We stopped briefly to finish removing her clothing. She wrapped her arms
around my neck and we kissed deeply as we fell back down on the mattress. She pulled her face back and looked into my eyes.
"Would you like to kiss me between my legs," she asked?
I nodded eagerly.
"Why don't you turn around and get on top of me then," she suggested, "that way you can put penis back in my mouth while you kiss my vagina." The sounds of her words, so technical, like the lectures on human reproduction I'd endured in school, combined with the innocence of the room and the fact that this was Mrs. Johnson drove me out of my mind with lust. In an instant I was on top of her licking and sucking her pussy while the sensations of her mouth and teeth on my cock and balls drove me again to the brink of orgasm.
"Oh yes, ohh yess," she moaned, moving her mouth away from my cock. "Turn around, quickly, turn around and fuck me."
I quickly repositioned myself on top of her and our lips locked together and
we tasted each others mouths anew. When I had trouble finding the right spot with the end of my cock, she guided me inside of her with her hands. I sank deeply into her soft warm flesh and started moving slowly in and out.
"Fuck me harder, please baby....oh gawd your penis feels soooo good....fuck me faster...harder....suck my nipples."
I humped her furiously, pinching and sucking her nipples, and then exploded inside her.
I carried out my gardening, and other, duties at Mrs. Johnson's house with
great enthusiasm throughout the remainder of that summer before heading off to college. Sandi introduced me to a variety of new experiences, and we enjoyed a very satisfying, intimate, and loving relationship for several more summers.
Hello,
Consulting for several large companies, I'd always done my work on Windows. Recently however, a top online investment firm asked us to do some work using Linux. The concept of having access to source code was very appealing to us, as we'd be able to modify the kernel to meet our exacting standards which we're unable to do with Microsoft's products.
Although we met several technical challenges along the way (specifically, Linux's lack of Token Ring support and the fact that we were unable to defrag its ext2 file system), all in all the process went smoothly. Everyone was very pleased with Linux, and we were considering using it for a great deal of future internal projects.
So you can imagine our suprise when we were informed by a lawyer that we would be required to publish our source code for others to use. It was brought to our attention that Linux is copyrighted under something called the GPL, or the Gnu Protective License. Part of this license states that any changes to the kernel are to be made freely available. Unfortunately for us, this meant that the great deal of time and money we spent "touching up" Linux to work for this investment firm would now be available at no cost to our competitors.
Furthermore, after reviewing this GPL our lawyers advised us that any products compiled with GPL'ed tools - such as gcc - would also have to its source code released. This was simply unacceptable.
Although we had planned for no one outside of this company to ever use, let alone see the source code, we were now put in a difficult position. We could either give away our hard work, or come up with another solution. Although it was tought to do, there really was no option: We had to rewrite the code, from scratch, for Windows 2000.
I think the biggest thing keeping Linux from being truly competitive with Microsoft is this GPL. Its draconian requirements virtually guarentee that no business will ever be able to use it. After my experience with Linux, I won't be recommending it to any of my associates. I may reconsider if Linux switches its license to something a little more fair, such as Microsoft's "Shared Source". Until then its attempts to socialize the software market will insure it remains only a bit player.
Thank you for your time.
C - A language that combines the speed of assembly with the ease of use of assembly.
So come one, come all. The last meet was a lot of fun and we expect this this IRC meet will be even better than the last.
I don't think so.
screw, screw, screw...
How many of them will DOTbathe before coming out? Probably none.
Maybe the people at the DotGNU meet will be able to help me out. You see, I use GNU/Linux and can't get a girlfriend, no matter what I do. From what I can tell, not too many of you have girlfriends either; I must make it clear right now that I do not want advice from you. I am seeking the advice of those who have consentual, regular, heterosexual intercourse with a well adjusted woman.
.... a fucking GNU/Linux hippy". He sounded so defeated. She wanted to go to the beach, but my skin is not adjusted to the sun and my skin peels while at the beach. This was not a turn on for her and when she came back to my mum's basement that night we were going to have sex but the raw skin was too much for her.
You may be wondering why I placed so many restrictions on the type of sexual intercourse. Being a GNU/Linux user, I can get all the men I want, but my ass hurts from years of anal sex. I am tired of pillow-biting. I have met women at Linux User Groups (LUGs) but they didnt want sex the way I wanted it - they brought their strap on and rode my chute like the men did. The date would end with her taking me to a gay bar and selling my ass to a drunk and bearded kernel hacker.
I am convinced, therefore, that I need to meet women that do not use GNU/Linux.
I have tried dating regular women, but find it hard to make conversation. I was surprised that regular women do not give a shit about Free Software or the Microsoft monopoly which leaves me with nothing to discuss. Some women tried to talk about the weather, but I don't keep up with the weather from my mums' basement.
I have had some success, I dated one girl several times. She picked me up from home, mum liked her. I am sure dad would have too, but he left us soon after I installed Slackware on the family computer. I can still hear him crying and see him moping around the house, saying "I knew he was different; I could handle a gay son, but this
Going out at night for a meal can be difficult too; all restaurants refuse to serve smelly GNU/Linux hippies. The only place we can go for food is the McDonald's drive through, but she doesnt like waiting in her car in the heat of the day when I tend to smell the most. She doesn't like the stares she gets from the drive through staff.
I could go on, but I won't. I seek advice.
Slashdot on one monitor
Goatse.cx on the other!
yours,
Miguel ITcaca
DotGNU Meet-a-thon .NET , and Palladium." I think this announcement may be slightly wrong on the times since it disagrees with the post to the email list; but this is posted as submitted.
Posted by michael on Saturday June 29, @04:15PM
from the good-gnus dept.
Gopal.V writes "It's time for the Quarterly DotGNU IRC Meet-a-thon. As usual, we'll be having it on #dotgnu on irc.openprojects.net. We will be discussing the current state of DotGNU, where we've gone and where we should be headed. Anyone who is interested should join us. In particular, we are not only looking for developers to be involved in this meet, but also potential DotGNU users. We are very interested in addressing any questions/input from anyone who will one day use our framework. So come one, come all. The last meet was a lot of fun and we expect this this IRC meet will be even better than the last. Again, the IRC meet is taking place on: Server: irc.openprojects.net, Channel: #dotgnu. The meeting will run for a 36 hour period from 22:00 UTC Saturday 29 July 2002 until 10:00 UTC Monday 31 July. Every 4 hours will be an official meet time, when the major DotGNU members will be online. Most discussions will revolve round DotGNU projects and other issues concerning freedom in the new MS initiatives like
linksplzkthxbye
Do you speak English?
I disagree, Rob Levin is one of the best people in the software industry at the moment. He has been with OPN from the start (It IS pet project).
The man created online irc based support, he is as innovative as RMS or ESR. He is of that calibre and he wrote excellent code while working for us on lineo.
If you feel otherwise, I suggest you visit us on OPN (irc.openprojects.net) and join my service channel (#openprojects) and speak with one of us or with lilo himself.
Thank you.