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GCC 3.3.1 Switch Coming Soon On NetBSD
Dan writes "Matthew Green says he is ready to switch sparc, sparc64, i386 & alpha ports to using GCC3.3.1 by default on NetBSD. He's uploaded 4 snapshots (one per port ;-), all cross compiled from i386-netbsd. However, there appears to be work involved with fixing approximately 193 broken packages, as reported by NetBSD's Jan Schaumann."
first post for my brother adi
dan owned you
In Soviet Russia, a Beowulf cluster of all our newly dead *BSD overlords are belong to us.
If there is anything deader than BSD, it's Slashdot discussions about BSD news.
Once you clear away the FP, goatse, Soviet Russia, Beowulf, NGAA, Turd Report, and other obligatory trolls, you end up with 3 or 4 messages on average.
RIAA gets 17 comments almost immediately... obviously FreeBSD just isn't "hot" in here anymore...
Donald 'Duck' Dunn: We had a band powerful enough to turn goat piss into gasoline.
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, shaded by the brim of his battered felt fedora.
He did not 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.
The old-timer 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 fellow then winked at me, "Ike 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 of 1941 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 brown 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 high-top 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 sticking his tongue out far enough that the tip could touch the end 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?"
"Curiosity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."
"I'm no queer."
"Now don't be getting judgmental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't being queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a hand into 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 Ike 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.
Unfortunately this kind of moderation had the unfortunate side effect of impeding communication between OpenBSD and NetBSD developers (unnecessary rejection due to moderator absence, approval delays, etc.). It was not our intent; it was assumed that most OpenBSD developers would not post from their @openbsd.org addresses, just as most NetBSD developers do not use their @netbsd.org addresses to send mail.
At this point in time, we have decided that the inconvenience to the OpenBSD developers greatly outweighs the risk of postings in poor taste from a single individual, thus we are removing the selective moderation against the "openbsd.org" domain effective immediately. Please note that the NetBSD mailing lists have always been moderated against spam since they allow postings from non-members. Such moderation will remain in place.
We would like to remind our mailing list participants, that they should construct sentences with greater care, refrain from using foul language, and stop using sentences that can be taken as threats or insults.
If anyone is found to abuse our mailing lists, we will moderate his postings to the lists and announce the moderation to that individual.