Nitinol is also used many permanent implantable medical devices such as stents http://www.euroflex-gmbh.de/pdfs/medical.pdf [PDF] and having developed a few devices with Nitinol, it is simply amazing to see it work.
Except that doesn't happen. First of all if it did she can fix it, she's quite smart.
I have had the iGoogle page crash (rare) on me more than any other flash games but I won't play facebook games. Then I guess we both have smart women but mine wouldn't know what a/. was.
Second, we have properly configured and well maintained systems.
Other than software updates and FF or Chrome (She has killed both), what is there to configure? Is there a special flash configuration that prevents flash crash other than no flash? And Linux is not an option for her, needs win for Quickbooks.
She's never had a Flash crash that I know of, though she might not even tell me since it would be a rare and trivial issue.
If she avoids the facebook games they are usually rare. Zinga games are horrendous and support is about the same state as AOL was decades ago, clear everything and reinstall flash, so sorry, try again.
Your wife/girl friend (LMAO! A/.er having one!) or maybe a sister playing those god forsaken, crappy, waste of time, Zinga games on facebook. You will know when it crashes (after hours and hours of playing) by the scream that sounds like someone is having their finger nails pulled out. Slowly. And you will have to fix it because you can always fix it. Last time I had to fix a flash game I turned her computer off. I still sleep on the couch.
Given that the environmental structure is common to all persons at the location, it should remove some of the variables that exist and allow researchers to focus on the changes over time with regards to the disease itself rather than the differences that would be experienced with a geographical larger study.
The professional name is "Redneck", translator is here. http://www.rinkworks.com/dialect/ Also translates to Jive, Cockney, Elmer Fudd, Swedish Chef, Moron, Pig Latin, or Hacker.
Cory Doctrow had a book that is a very good read in addition to telling how to mess with RFID surveillance if Big Brother happens. Free & CC http://craphound.com/littlebrother/download/
A friend on AOL... Sure.... Actually I have a friend I have been trying to get off of AOHell for years. All you can do is try to teach them about the "Real" internet and introduce them to Firefox or Chrome and whatever email program of they don't want to use web based email. Also remember to secure their computer real good because AOL has been doing the babysitting for them and they will be in the wild wild intertubes!
I didn't write this but it is fitting.... ~~~~~~~~~~~~ All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump.
I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell.
As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathroom. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 0 through 4 (I write a lot of software) for your convenience:
0.Occupied
1.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.
2.Poo on seat.
3.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
4.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #1. I trudged back, entered, dropped trou and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful Shitter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Shitter was blathering to Mrs. Shitter about the shitty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder in one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.
-
Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased;
(2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and
(3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.
It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate.This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with the suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??"
Next door I could hear fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible...throw up... in my mouth.... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
Couldn't you just have said they have tiny genitals?
Until then, it's one more example of the way in which cops are increasingly generally subpar people, recruited from the less educated and less successful demographics of society, eager to hold a gun, and drawn to the profession precisely because they feel powerless in other areas of their life as a result of their general lack of merit, and thus need to abuse citizens in order to compensate for this lack.
Old news "Hieroglyphs and pictographs have been found dating from the Shang Dynasty (1600-1100 BCE) which suggest that acupuncture was practiced along with moxibustion." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acupuncture#Antiquity
Slashdot Mirror
— no matter how many tentacles it has — has a soul. Ummm... The Flying Spaghetti Monster??
Nitinol is also used many permanent implantable medical devices such as stents http://www.euroflex-gmbh.de/pdfs/medical.pdf [PDF] and having developed a few devices with Nitinol, it is simply amazing to see it work.
Robot chickens don't defecate, so you wouldn't have gotten any $hit.
has revealed that it doesn't matter if I look like a spaz on the dance floor, once I lick my eyebrows I have my pick of women!
Except that doesn't happen. First of all if it did she can fix it, she's quite smart.
I have had the iGoogle page crash (rare) on me more than any other flash games but I won't play facebook games. /. was.
Then I guess we both have smart women but mine wouldn't know what a
Second, we have properly configured and well maintained systems.
Other than software updates and FF or Chrome (She has killed both), what is there to configure? Is there a special flash configuration that prevents flash crash other than no flash?
And Linux is not an option for her, needs win for Quickbooks.
She's never had a Flash crash that I know of, though she might not even tell me since it would be a rare and trivial issue.
If she avoids the facebook games they are usually rare. Zinga games are horrendous and support is about the same state as AOL was decades ago, clear everything and reinstall flash, so sorry, try again.
Your wife/girl friend (LMAO! A /.er having one!) or maybe a sister playing those god forsaken, crappy, waste of time, Zinga games on facebook. You will know when it crashes (after hours and hours of playing) by the scream that sounds like someone is having their finger nails pulled out. Slowly. And you will have to fix it because you can always fix it. Last time I had to fix a flash game I turned her computer off. I still sleep on the couch.
It was a hard habit to break.
What kind of brains do you have?
The grey kind.... Both of them...
Given that the environmental structure is common to all persons at the location, it should remove some of the variables that exist and allow researchers to focus on the changes over time with regards to the disease itself rather than the differences that would be experienced with a geographical larger study.
Abby.
Abby what?
Abby Normal.
Wankbook?
The professional name is "Redneck", translator is here. http://www.rinkworks.com/dialect/
Also translates to Jive, Cockney, Elmer Fudd, Swedish Chef, Moron, Pig Latin, or Hacker.
Whats next... Spanglish experts?? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spanglish
Cory Doctrow had a book that is a very good read in addition to telling how to mess with RFID surveillance if Big Brother happens. Free & CC
http://craphound.com/littlebrother/download/
I welcome our fungus overlords
In a pure theory aspect, less tire on the road, less rolling resistance.
There all over /. these days... don't remember who but someone here has it as their sig. Liked it some much I stole it.
So the people are left with one choice, the ballot box.
Four boxes to be used in defense of liberty: soapbox, ballot box, jury box, ammo box - use in that order.
We have 2 left to use....
A friend on AOL... Sure.... Actually I have a friend I have been trying to get off of AOHell for years. All you can do is try to teach them about the "Real" internet and introduce them to Firefox or Chrome and whatever email program of they don't want to use web based email. Also remember to secure their computer real good because AOL has been doing the babysitting for them and they will be in the wild wild intertubes!
I didn't write this but it is fitting....
~~~~~~~~~~~~
All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump.
I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell.
As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathroom. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 0 through 4 (I write a lot of software) for your convenience:
0.Occupied
1.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.
2.Poo on seat.
3.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
4.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #1. I trudged back, entered, dropped trou and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful Shitter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Shitter was blathering to Mrs. Shitter about the shitty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder in one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.
-
Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent:
(1) The next-door conversation had ceased;
(2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and
(3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.
It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate.This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with the suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??"
Next door I could hear fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible...throw up... in my mouth.... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
-
Alas, it is evidently dif
Apple Farming?
Couldn't you just have said they have tiny genitals?
Until then, it's one more example of the way in which cops are increasingly generally subpar people, recruited from the less educated and less successful demographics of society, eager to hold a gun, and drawn to the profession precisely because they feel powerless in other areas of their life as a result of their general lack of merit, and thus need to abuse citizens in order to compensate for this lack.
Old news
"Hieroglyphs and pictographs have been found dating from the Shang Dynasty (1600-1100 BCE) which suggest that acupuncture was practiced along with moxibustion."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acupuncture#Antiquity
People Eating Tasty Animals
Eat what you want but I did not make it this far up the food chain just to eat grass....