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Firefox Developer on Recruitment Policy
wikinerd writes "A Firefox developer talks about the project's controversial invitation-only developer recruitment policy and explains why Firefox will never grow up."
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"Come on..." Tiffany patted the slack cheek again, and this time saw some movement in the pale eyelashes. She slowed the patting down to a light stroke. The boy's head and shoulders lay in her lap. The door was wide open, and her father was nowhere to be seen.
She held the side of a cooled pewter mug to the bruise upon the boy's jaw, and raked her fingers through the thick buttery hair with lasciviousness that surprised her. Or, perhaps not.
He was a handsome young colt - maybe 17 or 18 - with the gleaming tanned skin of a boy at sea. The eyelashes unlocked slowly, revealing bright blues and snowy whites. He blinked a time or two, and his gaze locked upon her bosom, bare inches from his nose. He pinkened delightfully.
"Well, hello," she giggled as he tried valiantly hard to wrench his gaze from her bosom. She snuggled him closer, feeling very much like being a tease. "What happened to you?"
"There was a man..." he began drowsily, and winced in recollection. "Oh Lord, what a fool! There was a man - Josiah, that's it - and he asked me my business. I told him I was with the press gang, and the fellow knocked me on the head and fled!"
"My father is afraid of the sea," The boy openly gaped, trying to take in the enormous improbability of this statement. "Some men are, you know."
"They are?"
"Oh, indeed!"
She rippled her fingertips lightly over his shirt buttons, slipping them open as easy as kiss-my-hand. They crumbled away under her touch, exposing him slowly and gently. She peeled the shirt away from him on either side, catching her breath.
He was slender, yet beautifully defined and toned. His chest and shoulders would add inches as he aged, but the makings for a fine and imposing physique were there, creamy and dusted with gold. Her hand landed lightly on his firm stomach, her thumb stroked the tiny patch of hair sprouting at the centre of his chest with her thumb. He lifted his head slightly, and watched the trailing caress. His neat lips were slightly parted, his eyes wide - his whole face a picture of tremulous awe.
"Men are afraid of all kinds of funny things."
"Miss, you're undressing me," Jack gazed up at the maiden that cradled him, and felt her relaxed grey eyes fling arrows of reassurance at him.
"You're covered in beer," she soothed, and picked up a cloth that had been languishing in a bowl at her side. "You can't go back to your ship all sticky, can you now? Whatever will your Captain say?"
Jack drew a sharp intake of breath as the cloth stroked a trail from the centre of his chest to the hem of his breeches. She was not, he noted, aiming for the beer stains upon him.
"H-he wouldn't be pleased," he admitted - but nor would his Captain be pleased if he were to be late, with the clear evidence of coltish abandon crystallising upon his breeches. He struggled slightly to sit, but the girl pressed him back, scrubbing gentle circles around his left nipple. His breath quickened.
"Well, then we must tidy you a little."
Jack moaned and dropped his head back into her lap. The coarseness and warmth of the cloth, as it lavished friction and care upon his nipple, stirred up a tide of sensations in his chest that bolted directly to his loins. He felt the swelling there, the stickiness upon the tip of his rising bolt. The girl's chuckle floated into his ear - a breeze of honey that cloyed his intelligence, muddled his brain.
The cloth relaxed upon his chest as she released it, and he felt her fingertips walk over his stomach. He raised his lips to hers without thinking about it. Her mouth was warm and encouraging, and he felt the euphoric rush of being taught - guided along. Just as her tongue trailed a lazy path over his palate, tickling him behind the teeth, a warm palm caressed his rigid length, squeezing gently up and down the shaft, coaxing more wetness from him as the coarse hopsack material stroked and teased him. The delicate pressure around his manhood wrenched a lust-glutted moan from hi
Acknowledging a first post is almost as bad as first posting in itself
And acknowledging a telling off for replying to a FP is how bad?
But it is unethical to post such a link under your own username rather than anonymous... this way, it's kinda karma whoring, which is probably why the moderator modded you down.
- Leon Mergen
http://www.solatis.com
FREE TEEKID! FIRST AMENDMENT!
And we're meant to beleive a person whose server can't stand up to a /. 4 seconds after being posted. I bet this guy uses IE.
No, he uses the fully standards-compliant GPLed Wordpress. More likely than not it was MySQL that fell over anyway. Read the error message.
Offtopic, but great.