Pete: I've always wondered, what's the devil look like?
Ulysses Everett McGill: Well, there are all manner of lesser imps and demons, Pete, but the great Satan hisself is red and scaly with a bifurcated tail, and he carries a hay fork.
Tommy Johnson: Oh, no. No, sir. He's white, as white as you folks, with empty eyes and a big hollow voice. He likes to travel around with a mean old hound. That's right.
Exactly. You would be amazed at how many relationships are ruined by Facebook. I did some research recently that really opened my eyes to this problem. The one thread through the vast majority of women's confessions was that they didn't *mean* for it to happen. A chat lead to a call. A call lead to lunch, then to secret meetings, then to bed. These were professional, intelligent women who previously had no intention of having an affair. It is mind-boggling.
Consent is not the issue here, it is whether the officer had a reasonable expectation of privacy. He did not. No one has a reasonable expectation of privacy on a public motorway in broad daylight.
'In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen. In the one thousand two hundred twenty-ninth year from the incarnation of our Lord, Peter, of all monks the least significant, gave this book to the [Benedictine monastery of the] most blessed martyr, St. Quentin. If anyone should steal it, let him know that on the Day of Judgment the most sainted martyr himself will be the accuser against him before the face of our Lord Jesus Christ.'
Slashdot Mirror
This is my great-great-great-grandfather's axe. It has had the head replaced twice and the handle replaced three times.
Pete: I've always wondered, what's the devil look like?
Ulysses Everett McGill: Well, there are all manner of lesser imps and demons, Pete, but the great Satan hisself is red and scaly with a bifurcated tail, and he carries a hay fork.
Tommy Johnson: Oh, no. No, sir. He's white, as white as you folks, with empty eyes and a big hollow voice. He likes to travel around with a mean old hound. That's right.
Hi honey. I didn't know you had a /. account. I'll be home for dinner tonight.
Exactly. You would be amazed at how many relationships are ruined by Facebook. I did some research recently that really opened my eyes to this problem. The one thread through the vast majority of women's confessions was that they didn't *mean* for it to happen. A chat lead to a call. A call lead to lunch, then to secret meetings, then to bed. These were professional, intelligent women who previously had no intention of having an affair. It is mind-boggling.
If your girlfriend/wife/whatever is using Facebook and you are not, you need to get an account. Trust me on this.
Boy, I dodged a bullet there. Now I can remain anony...oh shit.
I know I shouldn't feed the trolls, but...what case are you speaking of?
You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.
FTFY
No really. Don't let the deadpan delivery fool you into thinking I am not shocked. I am. Really.
Oh, I don't know...I've heard lots of babies say, "poo-poo."
Computer Defeats Human At Japanese Chess
Human, my friend. Human.
Chicka pie, chicka bane.
Does this download include all messages received and sent?
Perhaps your bank is really an insurance company in disguise...
Consent is not the issue here, it is whether the officer had a reasonable expectation of privacy. He did not. No one has a reasonable expectation of privacy on a public motorway in broad daylight.
I'm glad they found this type of cyclic activity. The sooner we find complex life off-Earth the better.
What is the British equivalent to "Hey, Ya'll, watch this!"
I heard it sounds a lot like a dolphin.
It gave me the heebie-jeebies.
And if a fix is created, it will only be applied to some handsets as opposed to every handset.
Well, DUH! That's because not every handset will need it.
Why is this sad? Seriously asking here, not trying to be a prick.
What? I couldn't hear you with these perfect robot thighs wrapped around my head.
Nope. I read it that way too. And depending upon one's beliefs, our way of reading it is true as well.
'In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen. In the one thousand two hundred twenty-ninth year from the incarnation of our Lord, Peter, of all monks the least significant, gave this book to the [Benedictine monastery of the] most blessed martyr, St. Quentin. If anyone should steal it, let him know that on the Day of Judgment the most sainted martyr himself will be the accuser against him before the face of our Lord Jesus Christ.'
That is the longest password I've ever seen.
I think it would greatly depend upon the circumstances in which one is leaving.