The NetBSD Organization
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I though it was...
Just heading the "BSD IS DEAD" posts off at the pass.
When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.
."
."
."
.
." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."
."
."
."
Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.
Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.
He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.
Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.
I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."
"Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. .
"I'll bet you do."
". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.
"I though we were talking about. .
"You like jumping old men's peckers?"
I shook my head.
"I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."
That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.
Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.
"Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."
"People do that?"
He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"
"I never. .
"Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."
"No way."
"Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."
"Why would I do that?"
"Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."
"I'm no queer."
"Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."
I swallowed, hard.
Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"
***
We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."
I followed I ke to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.
"Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.
He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"
I looked away.
"You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"
I shook my head.
"Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."
Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.
"Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.
I tried not to look interested.
"Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.
"What if somebody walks in?"
Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."
I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"
"I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."
I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.
"You like checking out this old man's cock?"
I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.
"Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." I ke slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."
I shook my head.
"Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"
I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.
He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."
"Why?"
"Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.
"I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.
Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."
I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.
"Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.
I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.
"Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"
I shook my head.
"Cause I keep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."
"Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."
"Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."
I laughed.
"You laughing at my little peter, boy?"
"Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.
"I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.
"I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."
"Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"
"Your head?"
"No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"
"I don't think so."
"That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."
"We shouldn't be talking like this."
"C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"
"I reckon," I confessed.
"You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.
"My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."
"How'd that come about?"
He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."
"What did your grandpa do?"
"He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."
"Did you want to join him."
"I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."
"I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"
I nodded and looked away.
"Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."
"We shouldn't."
"Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."
I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.
Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."
In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather
"C'mon let's see it all."
I shook my head.
"You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."
I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.
Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." I ke grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."
I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.
Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"
I shook my head.
The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.
I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.
Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."
He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.
***
"Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.
I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.
"Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.
I shook my head in denial.
"Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."
I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.
"Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"
"Almost seven inches. .
"And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."
"I don't do. .
"Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.
Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."
"A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"
"I don't think so."
"What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"
"It's not for showing off."
"That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?
"It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.
"There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.
I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.
"Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"
"Nineteen almost twenty."
You ever fucked a woman?"
"No."
"Ever fucked a man?"
"Of course not.
"Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."
"Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."
"You've done that?"
"I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."
"I think that would hurt."
"First time, it usually does," agreed I ke. He took a bite from his sandwich.
I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.
"We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."
He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.
"Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.
I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.
Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."
I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. .
"C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."
I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."
"That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."
"We really shouldn't. .
"Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."
"I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.
"Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."
"I don't know about that," I said.
Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"
I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.
"Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."
I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.
Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.
"I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."
"You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"
"I thought about it a lot."
"Ever see him with a hard-on."
"I told you about that!"
"Ever think about him doing your grandma?"
"I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.
"Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.
"Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."
"If you say so."
"Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old I ke to lick some of it away?"
"You wouldn't."
Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."
And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.
Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."
***
The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.
"C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.
Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."
"It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."
""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."
I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."
"I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."
"Are you ready," I asked.
"How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"
"It's real tight."
"Tighter than your fist?"
"Might be."
"Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."
"I reckon."
"I want you should do old Ike one more favor."
"What?"
While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"
I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.
"C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"
I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.
"A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."
Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.
I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.
12327
No, it ain't dead.
no non-troll posts yet
better not start now
Those who hate windows use Linux.
Those who love Unix use BSD.
...You mean there are other free OS's out there? No kidding! QUICK! Inform Slashdot!
Every year during my review, I just pray the words "slashdot.org" aren't mentioned.
There are hardly any posts in BSD stories thesedays -- it's really sad to see. I know most people will get their news from daemonnews.org or bsdtoday.com or whatever, but I like /. for the discussion. Doh!
/. jokes relating to the topic.
Anyway, because my post was boring, here's an assortment of overused
New business model for NetBSD:
1) Form organization
2) ??????
3) PROFIT!
Imagine a beowulf cluster of NetBSD organisations.
In SOVIET RUSSIA... NetBSD organizes YOU!
etc.
http://www.druglordsgame.com/index.php?ref=119532
Now that apple is beginning to behave badly, maybe it's time a free project showed what it can do with the BSD core. I'm all for this. I just wish I had more spare time!
Thank you,
ekrout
When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.
."
."
."
.
." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."
."
."
."
Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.
Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.
He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.
Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.
I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."
"Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. .
"I'll bet you do."
". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.
"I though we were talking about. .
"You like jumping old men's peckers?"
I shook my head.
"I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."
That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.
Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.
"Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."
"People do that?"
He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"
"I never. .
"Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."
"No way."
"Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."
"Why would I do that?"
"Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."
"I'm no queer."
"Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."
I swallowed, hard.
Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"
***
We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."
I followed I ke to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.
"Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.
He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"
I looked away.
"You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"
I shook my head.
"Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."
Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.
"Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.
I tried not to look interested.
"Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.
"What if somebody walks in?"
Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."
I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"
"I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."
I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.
"You like checking out this old man's cock?"
I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.
"Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." I ke slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."
I shook my head.
"Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"
I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.
He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."
"Why?"
"Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.
"I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.
Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."
I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.
"Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.
I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.
"Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"
I shook my head.
"Cause I keep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."
"Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."
"Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."
I laughed.
"You laughing at my little peter, boy?"
"Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.
"I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.
"I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."
"Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"
"Your head?"
"No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"
"I don't think so."
"That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."
"We shouldn't be talking like this."
"C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"
"I reckon," I confessed.
"You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.
"My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."
"How'd that come about?"
He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."
"What did your grandpa do?"
"He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."
"Did you want to join him."
"I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."
"I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"
I nodded and looked away.
"Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."
"We shouldn't."
"Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."
I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.
Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."
In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather
"C'mon let's see it all."
I shook my head.
"You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."
I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.
Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." I ke grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."
I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.
Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"
I shook my head.
The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.
I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.
Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."
He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.
***
"Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.
I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.
"Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.
I shook my head in denial.
"Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."
I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.
"Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"
"Almost seven inches. .
"And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."
"I don't do. .
"Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.
Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."
"A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"
"I don't think so."
"What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"
"It's not for showing off."
"That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?
"It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.
"There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.
I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.
"Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"
"Nineteen almost twenty."
You ever fucked a woman?"
"No."
"Ever fucked a man?"
"Of course not.
"Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."
"Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."
"You've done that?"
"I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."
"I think that would hurt."
"First time, it usually does," agreed I ke. He took a bite from his sandwich.
I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.
"We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."
He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.
"Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.
I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.
Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."
I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. .
"C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."
I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."
"That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."
"We really shouldn't. .
"Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."
"I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.
"Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."
"I don't know about that," I said.
Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"
I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.
"Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."
I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.
Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.
"I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."
"You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"
"I thought about it a lot."
"Ever see him with a hard-on."
"I told you about that!"
"Ever think about him doing your grandma?"
"I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.
"Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.
"Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."
"If you say so."
"Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old I ke to lick some of it away?"
"You wouldn't."
Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."
And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.
Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."
***
The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.
"C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.
Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."
"It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."
""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."
I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."
"I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."
"Are you ready," I asked.
"How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"
"It's real tight."
"Tighter than your fist?"
"Might be."
"Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."
"I reckon."
"I want you should do old Ike one more favor."
"What?"
While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"
I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.
"C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"
I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.
"A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."
Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.
I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.
1232732
lookie here
...the OpenBSD banner ad at the bottom of the page?
What happened to "An Anonymous Coward..."
The End of FreeBSD
[ed. note: in the following text, former FreeBSD developer Mike Smith gives his reasons for abandoning FreeBSD]
When I stood for election to the FreeBSD core team nearly two years ago, many of you will recall that it was after a long series of debates during which I maintained that too much organisation, too many rules and too much formality would be a bad thing for the project.
Today, as I read the latest discussions on the future of the FreeBSD project, I see the same problem; a few new faces and many of the old going over the same tired arguments and suggesting variations on the same worthless schemes. Frankly I'm sick of it.
FreeBSD used to be fun. It used to be about doing things the right way. It used to be something that you could sink your teeth into when the mundane chores of programming for a living got you down. It was something cool and exciting; a way to spend your spare time on an endeavour you loved that was at the same time wholesome and worthwhile.
It's not anymore. It's about bylaws and committees and reports and milestones, telling others what to do and doing what you're told. It's about who can rant the longest or shout the loudest or mislead the most people into a bloc in order to legitimise doing what they think is best.
Individuals notwithstanding, the project as a whole has lost track of where it's going, and has instead become obsessed with process and mechanics.
So I'm leaving core. I don't want to feel like I should be "doing something" about a project that has lost interest in having something done for it. I don't have the energy to fight what has clearly become a losing battle; I have a life to live and a job to keep, and I won't achieve any of the goals I personally consider worthwhile if I remain obligated to care for the project.
I'm sure that I've offended some people already; I'm sure that by the time I'm done here, I'll have offended more. If you feel a need to play to the crowd in your replies rather than make a sincere effort to address the problems I'm discussing here, please do us the courtesy of playing your politics openly.
From a technical perspective, the project faces a set of challenges that significantly outstrips our ability to deliver. Some of the resources that we need to address these challenges are tied up in the fruitless metadiscussions that have raged since we made the mistake of electing officers. Others have left in disgust, or been driven out by the culture of abuse and distraction that has grown up since then. More may well remain available to recruitment, but while the project is busy infighting our chances for successful outreach are sorely diminished.
There's no simple solution to this. For the project to move forward, one or the other of the warring philosophies must win out; either the project returns to its laid-back roots and gets on with the work, or it transforms into a super-organised engineering project and executes a brilliant plan to deliver what, ultimately, we all know we want.
Whatever path is chosen, whatever balance is struck, the choosing and the striking are the important parts. The current indecision and endless conflict are incompatible with any sort of progress.
Trying to dissect the above is far beyond the scope of any parting shot, no matter how distended. All I can really ask of you all is to let go of the minutiae for a moment and take a look at the big picture. What is the ultimate goal here? How can we get there with as little overhead as possible? How would you like to be treated by your fellow travellers?
To the Slashdot "BSD is dying" crowd - big deal. Death is part of the cycle; take a look at your soft, pallid bodies and consider that right this very moment, parts of you are dying. See? It's not so bad.
To the bulk of the FreeBSD committerbase and the developer community at large - keep your eyes on the real goals. It's when you get distracted by the politickers that they sideline you. The tireless work that you perform keeping the system clean and building is what provides the platform for the obsessives and the prima donnas to have their moments in the sun. In the end, we need you all; in order to go forwards we must first avoid going backwards.
To the paranoid conspiracy theorists - yes, I work for Apple too. No, my resignation wasn't on Steve's direct orders, or in any way related to work I'm doing, may do, may not do, or indeed what was in the tea I had at lunchtime today. It's about real problems that the project faces, real problems that the project has brought upon itself. You can't escape them by inventing excuses about outside influence, the problem stems from within.
To the politically obsessed - give it a break, if you can. No, the project isn't a lemonade stand anymore, but it's not a world-spanning corporate juggernaut either and some of the more grandiose visions going around are in need of a solid dose of reality. Keep it simple, stupid.
To the grandstanders, the prima donnas, and anyone that thinks that they can hold the project to ransom for their own agenda - give it a break, if you can. When the current core were elected, we took a conscious stand against vigorous sanctions, and some of you have exploited that. A new core is going to have to decide whether to repeat this mistake or get tough. I hope they learn from our errors.
I started work on FreeBSD because it was fun. If I'm going to continue, it has to be fun again. There are things I still feel obligated to do, and with any luck I'll find the time to meet those obligations.
However I don't feel an obligation to get involved in the political mess the project is in right now. I tried, I burnt out. I don't feel that my efforts were worthwhile. So I won't be standing for election, I won't be shouting from the sidelines, and I probably won't vote in the next round of ballots.
You could say I'm packing up my toys. I'm not going home just yet, but I'm not going to play unless you can work out how to make the project somewhere fun to be again.
= Mike
To announce that there must be no criticism of the president, or that we are to stand by the president, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public. -- Theodore Roosevelt
See if you can solve:
1. Find the general expression for dy/dx at any point on the curve given by
f(x,y) = x + y + sinx + cosy = 1
2. Find du/dt when u = acosk(x-ct) where a,k,c and x are constant, t and u being independent and dependent variables respectively.
This article is formatted for the blind, right? Header size: 120px; text size: 80px; ...
*g*
Are there any bootable-CD distributions of *BSD, like the Knoppix distro for Linux? It would be really cool to bring a couple of CDs with you in case you ran into some open-minded person willing to look at a free OS, and not have to worry about partitioning or overwriting anything.
1. Organize itself
2. ???
3. Profit
No threat of RMS induced lawsuit.
Why use NetBSD when the MR monopoly is already there :)
SK
Needless to say if anyone ever asks you a question of what runs NetBSD ... you can safely say more things than any other operating system. NetBSD runs on everything from a supercomputer to a dreamcast and everything in between. The most impressive things I've seen from NetBSD is the ability to get the OS running on anything that can process information and NFS ... second to none.
There are ninches for everything ... portability ... netbsd wins hands down.
Ignore the "p2p is theft" trolls, they're just uninformed
As I recall NetBSD had full USB support a year before linux did. FreeBSD probably wasn't close behind either.
There's a manpage about this in /usr/share/man/
/usr/local/man/
I think on BSD it's
It's not much info, but it can help you hit the ground fighting.
FreeBSD: "Drowning in red tape"
NetBSD: "More Core than lines of commiters"
OpenBSD: "Dictatorships kill"
Darwin: "It takes a mighty corporation to turn out a tender BSD!"
The NetBSD Organization? More like CELDA!
Programming can be fun again. Film at 11.
And why is he hated so? Does he run K5?
You didn't get it from Project Gutenberg did you?
Idiots! Why have you not posted anything on this crucial subject!
I help out on some sites, and they all use Apache and freeBSD, and I've never had a problem. I believe it makes it less expensive for people to host on non-Microsoft servers, and having and open mind is important to keeping open software. If a fraction of the users of Microsoft and other commercial software spent a fraction of their time and effort (instead of downloading pr0n) to projects...well, who knows what could happen. A movement, perhaps?
Netbsd Live...
---- Booth was a patriot ----
This is redundant, yes, but very relevent to the discussion of the NetBSD organization, and very insightful. I can understand why the typical idiotic slashbot can not understand this, though it is important for them to start listening. Whoever modded that down shouldn't be allowed to moderate.
This is great. BSD was one of the first original free source operating system distributions and it's still the most technologically advanced stable free operating system in the world.
Can you imagine a beowulf cluster of that? Seriously though, I want to know if it is possible to cluster in *BSD (which I suppose it is). If anyone knows a site that shows benchmarks of identical Linux and *BSD clusters. If the *BSD cluster is faster, then I will search with all my might for >1GhZ used boxen and make a cluster myself!
When corporations misuse the public trust, and they do whenever they take things from the public and spit in the public's eye as thanks, they no longer deserve a free ride.
I wouldn't bother wasting time supporting something that doesn't WANT to be protected. Use Linux, and be happy. In a couple more years BSD will be an footnote in OS history, and largely forgotten by what little of the public even know about it now.
Academics who will remember it will say that it all came down to the license. BSD's was weak and flacid, while the GPL was strong and vigorous. To the victor go the spoils, and the prize it turned out was mindshare.
= 9J =
*BSD is already dead.
you've got mono? yuk.
don't cry for US miguel/robbIE/lairy?.
look for: va.msn.net, ticker symbol: (VAST), & IT's "spinoff" va.msn.net.bsd, ticker symbol: (VASTbs)
I once had a client who wanted a bsd server. im used to solaris and linux, but i thought, hey why not, its the original old school it would probably be fun and educational. needless to say the installer was the most confusing gawd awfull thing i had ever run across. it took me three weeks to figure out how to get apache, perl, sendmail, and gcc working. and that was just figuring out how to install them. the menue system wasnt counter intuitive, it was strategically designed to confuse and bewilder you. i still dont really know if i set the server up well. i ended up turning the project over to a freind of mine who had done it a couple of times before. i remember walking away thinking that i wouldnt play with BSD for a while at least untill i heard that the overhauled the instalation menues. so does anybody know if they made installing BSD esear? man.
" there are only 21 real people in the world, the rest are just mindless monkey put there to prevent you from finding the other 20" ---plif.com
is it just me or does the penguin in the add above look really scarry and evil. its off topic but man. mr penguin ad dosent like being in a BSD post.
YOU are dead!
http://wonka.acunia.com/. Also FreeBSD will soon get native Java. They're working on it. Also, it's possible to recompile JDK from source for *BSD. Yes, it is labor intensive.
That is why the slashbots hate the BSDs.
Incidentally, that is also why they hate MS. MS is successful and their employees live full and happy lives, while they flip burgers and live in their parents' basement.
...someone posted here the other day that BSD was dead...I'm confused... :)
Only in slashdot are posts of solidarity modded at -1 Redundant, while posts of antagonism are modded as -1 Flamebait.
Coincidence? You be the judge!
This is good to know for those of us who actually
use NetBSD (I use sparc and x86 versions). If I cared enough
to I would definately help out the pkgsrc folks
(especially to get OpenOffice working and maybe a couple
other programs). Too bad I don't really have time to
work or help out. It would be good for those who can't
kernel program but would like to help out.
I don't like the installation system that it uses either. When you first sit down in front of it you don't think there will be any problems. At first it reminded me a lot of slackware which is the version of Linux I started out on. However if you're not careful before you're done you will have installed the OS TWICE without meaning to, among other things. The biggest challlenge is to get it to do the things you want without doing the things you don't because you've already done them. The main reason for this is that the install routine does not really work in an entirely step-by-step chronological manner even though its interface would lead you to believe that it does.
Once the system is installed the package/ports system works beautifully and the system is very fast and stable. It runs well on a P-200 with 96 megs of memory. The last version of Redhat that would do that was probably 6.2 or 7.0 at the latest. The 2.4 kernel increased the minimum system requirements a great deal.
Overall I think that Linux's evolutionary and laise faire(sp?) development model will lead to the best solutions. The speed of its development is a testament to that. The problem is that the road to get there is a rocky one. There is something to be said for a mature code base that is maintained and carefully pushed forward by a small group that is dedicated to making sure it gets the job done and works right, right now. Linux, on the other hand, can be thought of as being in continuous beta. The degree to which it is solid and secure depends upon the bugs and quirks getting shake-and-baked out by dozens of independent companies and hundreds of individuals. This is why the dot-zero versions of Redhat are always quirky and poorly optimized while the dot-two versions generally work well.
If I was going to set up a web server I'd probably use FreeBSD. If I was going to set up a desktop system I'd use Mandrake or Redhat. If I was going to set up a system where security was the most important thing I'd use OpenBSD. The only reason I can think of to run NetBSD is if you've got some oddball hardware that you can't afford to replace with an x86 system.
Lee
Muslim community leaders warn of backlash from tomorrow morning's terrorist attack.
Damn, got here late, this story was posted while I was at work, and now probably no one will even see this comment :P
:) For those that like KDE or Gnome, they run, in fact NetBSD had KDE 3 way before Debian ever did. So what's the fuss?
:)). If BSD wasn't around, alot of other operating systems would have gotten crappier TCP/IP stacks, OSX would probably be in much worse shape than it is (if it ever came to light at all), and many other things. So what if a vendor doesn't want to release their changes? They paid their people to write the code, let them have it. The original source will always be around.
:)
Some random thoughts:
I've run Linux for about a year and a few months, I've run Debian *only* for about a year, and recently I started running NetBSD on my desktop machine (yes, my desktop machine, not my server, router, or toaster). I don't see why people denounce the BSD's for desktop use. Mozilla runs, Xterm's run, irc clients run, Gaim runs, XMMS runs, MPlayer runs, damn, everything on my desktop runs
I moved from Linux to BSD for many reasons, BSD is much more tightly integrated. You don't get the "oh, that's Jim Bob Developer's fault, email him", etc. You don't get manual pages that state "This manual page is old and incomplete - please read the GNU info manual". Of course opinions differ, but I _like_ man pages. I don't like info manuals.
Another factor is the license and attitude of the community as far as licensing. I don't really like the GPL. Sure, in a perfect world, all software would be free, there would be no evil corporations, and everyone could sit around reading fine literature and hiking out in the mountains - BUT that's not going to happen. If people want to make a product and sell it, let them do it (as long as they're not breaking the law
BSD init is alot cleaner than Sys V init - no piles of symlinks with funny names - and NetBSD's rc.d system takes care of Sys V init-style init scripts (/etc/rc.d/named restart). In fact, NetBSD's rc.d system is being ported to FreeBSD.
ipf is, IMO, a hell of a lot nicer than IPTables.
The whole base system is consistant, well documented, well thought out, and easy to use as long as you know how to read. The userbase is *much* more intelligent and experienced, on average, however it is quite a bit smaller, than Linux's.
For software - there is pkgsrc, which is like Free/OpenBSD's ports system, or Gentoo's portage. pkgsrc is kept very up to date, I'm running Mozilla 1.2.1 from it right now.
As far as being a server or firewall/router, NetBSD runs any OSS Server stuff great, and I'm sure most Linux-only stuff would run fine under emulation.
Any other NetBSD users out there in the wasteland that is Slashdot? Speak up!
Imagine a Beowulf cluster of anti-BSD trolls. In Soviet Russia... BSD trolls YOU! 1) Post comment: "BSD is dead you morons." 2) ??? 3) PROFIT!!!
--
est modus in rebus