Lol. I love the shit the Vatican worries about. People starving to death while their coffers fill to max capacity? Their own legion of pervy-clergy touching innocent kids inappropriately? Nope, let's fret about the internet. After all, that's where we HEAR about their OWN criminal behavior.
This doesn't look like a cryptogram/code, more like his own language; a mix-up of words. I swear I see 'first', 'second' and 'third' in one note. Looks like he scrambles words while replacing a few when it's a related group of words.
I was the Queen of Centipede as a lil' mite. I think I'll relive my glory days by getting myself a gun and shooting at any insect that crosses my path.
I can't say that I found any kind of religious (or lack thereof) outlook through my old Commodore 64. I was more interested in Coconotes, floppy disks I'd use for diaries which my younger brother hacked, sneaking peeks at my older brother playing Samantha Fox's strip-poker game and going onto old BBS forums, run by this perv in the next town over who'd give you an hour for 50 cents while hitting on teenage girls.
They have the one-line queue at TJ Maxx, and it couldn't work any better. I was in the line of last-minuters yesterday, TONS of people in one line and boomboomboom, we were getting ticked off every 30 seconds, if that.
Cos' f*&k knows you wouldn't wanna be in an ultra-famous, multi-award winning, googolplex-dollar selling project that's going to stick with you as the best thing you ever did in your life. It's not like that's good, or anything.
I can't even begin to fathom how utterly SCREWED I'd be. I sing everywhere, including grocery stores. And I don't even WORK in one. And movie quotes? Orson Welles would rise from the grave and slap a lawsuit on me so fast for screaming, "Don't worry about me! Don't worry about me, Geddes! I'm CHARLES FOSTER KANE!" in the Wal-Mart parking lot. Don't ask. Hard day.
I played on secondlife for a while. It was the most irritating thing in the universe. My avatar would get in a zone, take three steps and BAM, lag. Nothing. But. Lag. It shocked the heck outta me when I learned how much people would pay to do business there. $1k for an island, when you can barely walk around without crashing your computer? Surely, you jest.
I wonder if the item in question was the ping-pong-ball-in-the-butt popper. Now THAT was funny.
So I get b!%ched out at a restaurant for doing a quick untangling of my son's hair at the table from a couple mummies sitting next to us (don't you dare give me flak, it was about a second and a half in our own booth, far from theirs), but we're gonna chow down on a salad made from scraps swept up from Cost Cutters?
I actually think this is a good idea; I just felt like venting.
I work in a convenience store--one of many clerk jobs I've had, and lemmee tell ya, the state does whatever it can to make sure people don't infringe on their territory. They outlawed slot machines in bars, clubs, etc. years ago.
The interesting part is that people have found a way around it. We HAVE a machine in our store, but it's a "Skill Game". Instead of it being a chancy slot-game, you win on every spin by tapping a wild option on the screen, making three fruits/whatever else in a row. Most of the time it's a lame old two cents, but that's how they've gotten around it. It's 'skill'... y'know. Tapping a screen=deciphering the text on the Antikythera Mechanism.
So if these online gambling sites can find a loophole, the state is boned. But they (the online gaming people) will probably have to put up a disclaimer on their site, saying that it's not linked to the state. That's what the machine guys had to do in our store.
The dinosaurs were obviously devout Christians, with a few strays here and there. That 'small pocket' of dino-heathens died a sad, godless death after The Rapture.
My brother turned into a pot-smoking, compulsive gambling alcoholic; this after living with a mother who couponed/rebated so hardcore that she'd spend 3 cents on 3 big bags of groceries (not shi$%ing you) and a father who got drunk once a year on the 4th of July.
In other words, some kids just turn out badly without the parental units fugging it up. To say that MY parents were "bad parents" because of how my brother turned out is absurd. They had their issues and sure, some of it passed on to us, but they did their best. Anyone who says that my brother is my mom or dad's fault gets a boot to the head, from me.
No one should have to see their child in such a way, but plenty people do. If you live in a warzone like Iraq or another country that deals with terrorist bombings all year long, likely you've seen it live.... so? Are you going to then say that it's justified to send the mother of a young man killed in battle a picture of her dead son drying up in the desert with his intestines lying all over him with the text "Splodey!" written upon it? Because that's the true analogy to this situation. Just because the girl was spoiled and stupid doesn't mean that the parents aren't scarred and probably suicidal over her death and the disgusting behavior of people who find it funny. There's simply no justifying that kind of disgusting act.
The biggest problem isn't whether pics like this should or shouldn't be publicized; it's that when they ARE, there are callous, evil and cruel bastards that think it's funny to send e-mails to the parents of their dead daughter with a (un)funny caption. That made me sick to read--that someone would actually do that disheartens me and bums me out. That's the worst part of the net; the internet-toughs that throw the N-word around on youtube when they'd never say it to the person's face, all the way to people mocking the dead.
Whether or not this girl fugged herself up and got killed because of her own dumb behavior doesn't matter. The parents don't need that shit. I myself lost two children (not my own) that I loved, one of them being in my infant/toddler class from the age of 3 months old. He was almost four, his sister eleven when they died in a fatal car accident, one of the worst my town has ever seen. I don't know what I'd do if I got an e-mail that showed off his face all busted-up, or his body sawed in half as it was. I was lucky enough not to have seen the damage. It was bad enough seeing his sister in the hospital, who'd gone through the back windshield, right before they took her off of life support.
Okay, I'm turning into Ms. McWordy here, but it's something that hits close to home. There's nothing we can do about the cruelty of people online who think they're the shit doing stuff like this, but maybe NOT posting the images where everyone can see them isn't the worst idea. Besides a bunch of high schoolers going to the auditorium for a "What NOT to do after the prom" seminar can be exposed to this as a precaution--wtf does anyone else need to see this for? Morbid curiosity, that's it. People fighting for the right to see it aren't doing it for educational purposes. They either get off on blood and gore or find it funny.
Slashdot Mirror
...Saruman accuses the Ents of rallying against forestation.
Imma get a big jar and scoop it up to sell to a blood bank. I'm either hilarious, or I really, really need to go to bed.
Lol. I love the shit the Vatican worries about. People starving to death while their coffers fill to max capacity? Their own legion of pervy-clergy touching innocent kids inappropriately? Nope, let's fret about the internet. After all, that's where we HEAR about their OWN criminal behavior.
Trolls.
This doesn't look like a cryptogram/code, more like his own language; a mix-up of words. I swear I see 'first', 'second' and 'third' in one note. Looks like he scrambles words while replacing a few when it's a related group of words.
It'll never end. The fight for a bunch of sand that imaginary superheroes shat on at one point in time goes on and on, the song that never ends.
I saw this a while back and haven't stopped laughing since. :D
There's gonna be a rumble tonight...
A whole lotta trash-talkin' tonight...
But no punches will be thrown tonight--
--Cos' it's a slashdot comment fight!!
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xwbeddZ9aKI ... shut up, it applies.)
I was the Queen of Centipede as a lil' mite. I think I'll relive my glory days by getting myself a gun and shooting at any insect that crosses my path.
I can't say that I found any kind of religious (or lack thereof) outlook through my old Commodore 64. I was more interested in Coconotes, floppy disks I'd use for diaries which my younger brother hacked, sneaking peeks at my older brother playing Samantha Fox's strip-poker game and going onto old BBS forums, run by this perv in the next town over who'd give you an hour for 50 cents while hitting on teenage girls.
They have the one-line queue at TJ Maxx, and it couldn't work any better. I was in the line of last-minuters yesterday, TONS of people in one line and boomboomboom, we were getting ticked off every 30 seconds, if that.
Yup. It made me love him even more.
Its studios are guarded by nasal-voiced secretaries. There are directors there that never sleep.
Cos' f*&k knows you wouldn't wanna be in an ultra-famous, multi-award winning, googolplex-dollar selling project that's going to stick with you as the best thing you ever did in your life. It's not like that's good, or anything.
I can't even begin to fathom how utterly SCREWED I'd be. I sing everywhere, including grocery stores. And I don't even WORK in one. And movie quotes? Orson Welles would rise from the grave and slap a lawsuit on me so fast for screaming, "Don't worry about me! Don't worry about me, Geddes! I'm CHARLES FOSTER KANE!" in the Wal-Mart parking lot. Don't ask. Hard day.
Betcha the Pirate Party would be less corrupt than any other.
I'm so there, Precious. *glee*
I played on secondlife for a while. It was the most irritating thing in the universe. My avatar would get in a zone, take three steps and BAM, lag. Nothing. But. Lag. It shocked the heck outta me when I learned how much people would pay to do business there. $1k for an island, when you can barely walk around without crashing your computer? Surely, you jest.
I wonder if the item in question was the ping-pong-ball-in-the-butt popper. Now THAT was funny.
Dagnabit, you beat me to it, lol.
So I get b!%ched out at a restaurant for doing a quick untangling of my son's hair at the table from a couple mummies sitting next to us (don't you dare give me flak, it was about a second and a half in our own booth, far from theirs), but we're gonna chow down on a salad made from scraps swept up from Cost Cutters?
I actually think this is a good idea; I just felt like venting.
Yes: http://www.lottery.state.mn.us/
I already commented on this, but state-run lottery would gladly hand out cement shoes to those who get in their way.
I work in a convenience store--one of many clerk jobs I've had, and lemmee tell ya, the state does whatever it can to make sure people don't infringe on their territory. They outlawed slot machines in bars, clubs, etc. years ago.
The interesting part is that people have found a way around it. We HAVE a machine in our store, but it's a "Skill Game". Instead of it being a chancy slot-game, you win on every spin by tapping a wild option on the screen, making three fruits/whatever else in a row. Most of the time it's a lame old two cents, but that's how they've gotten around it. It's 'skill'... y'know. Tapping a screen=deciphering the text on the Antikythera Mechanism.
So if these online gambling sites can find a loophole, the state is boned. But they (the online gaming people) will probably have to put up a disclaimer on their site, saying that it's not linked to the state. That's what the machine guys had to do in our store.
The dinosaurs were obviously devout Christians, with a few strays here and there. That 'small pocket' of dino-heathens died a sad, godless death after The Rapture.
My brother turned into a pot-smoking, compulsive gambling alcoholic; this after living with a mother who couponed/rebated so hardcore that she'd spend 3 cents on 3 big bags of groceries (not shi$%ing you) and a father who got drunk once a year on the 4th of July.
In other words, some kids just turn out badly without the parental units fugging it up. To say that MY parents were "bad parents" because of how my brother turned out is absurd. They had their issues and sure, some of it passed on to us, but they did their best. Anyone who says that my brother is my mom or dad's fault gets a boot to the head, from me.
No one should have to see their child in such a way, but plenty people do. If you live in a warzone like Iraq or another country that deals with terrorist bombings all year long, likely you've seen it live.... so? Are you going to then say that it's justified to send the mother of a young man killed in battle a picture of her dead son drying up in the desert with his intestines lying all over him with the text "Splodey!" written upon it? Because that's the true analogy to this situation. Just because the girl was spoiled and stupid doesn't mean that the parents aren't scarred and probably suicidal over her death and the disgusting behavior of people who find it funny. There's simply no justifying that kind of disgusting act.
The biggest problem isn't whether pics like this should or shouldn't be publicized; it's that when they ARE, there are callous, evil and cruel bastards that think it's funny to send e-mails to the parents of their dead daughter with a (un)funny caption. That made me sick to read--that someone would actually do that disheartens me and bums me out. That's the worst part of the net; the internet-toughs that throw the N-word around on youtube when they'd never say it to the person's face, all the way to people mocking the dead. Whether or not this girl fugged herself up and got killed because of her own dumb behavior doesn't matter. The parents don't need that shit. I myself lost two children (not my own) that I loved, one of them being in my infant/toddler class from the age of 3 months old. He was almost four, his sister eleven when they died in a fatal car accident, one of the worst my town has ever seen. I don't know what I'd do if I got an e-mail that showed off his face all busted-up, or his body sawed in half as it was. I was lucky enough not to have seen the damage. It was bad enough seeing his sister in the hospital, who'd gone through the back windshield, right before they took her off of life support. Okay, I'm turning into Ms. McWordy here, but it's something that hits close to home. There's nothing we can do about the cruelty of people online who think they're the shit doing stuff like this, but maybe NOT posting the images where everyone can see them isn't the worst idea. Besides a bunch of high schoolers going to the auditorium for a "What NOT to do after the prom" seminar can be exposed to this as a precaution--wtf does anyone else need to see this for? Morbid curiosity, that's it. People fighting for the right to see it aren't doing it for educational purposes. They either get off on blood and gore or find it funny.