Steve Jobs did everything he could to ensure he survived, including leveraging his wealth to ensure he received the best health care. I'm sure that nearly everyone in his situation would have done the same.
Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "Hacker Arrested after Bank Tampering"...
Damn kids. They're all alike.
But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?
I am a hacker, enter my world...
Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...
Damn underachiever. They're all alike.
I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms. Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."
Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.
I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me...
Or feels threatened by me... Or thinks I'm a smart ass... Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...
Damn kid. All he does is play games. They're all alike.
And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is found.
"This is it... this is where I belong..."
I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...
Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...
You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us will- ing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world now... the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We explore... and you call us criminals. We seek after knowledge... and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religious bias... and you call us criminals. You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.
Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.
I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.
A silver tear rolled down Debbie's perfect cheek as she slowly lowered her sleek young body into the white marble bathtub. When she was younger, a nice hot bubble bath was all she needed to raise her spirits, but now it seemed that nothing would calm her troubled soul. Life wasn't easy for the teenage singing sensation. It seemed that no matter what she did, no one would take her work seriously.
"Trite," the critics had called her last album. "Trite, cheesy and sappy." Debbie shuddered and began to weep harder. These were her innermost feelings they were poking fun at. If "Lost in Your Eyes" and "No More Rhyme" weren't heartfelt reflections of the depth of the human soul - she didn't know what was. And surely "Electric Youth" was the most inspirational song about youthful potential since David Bowie's "Changes." But still her finest works were ridiculed by those too emotionally and intellectually immature to fully understand them.
But Debbie's musical career wasn't what was bothering her, and she knew it all too well. Her real problem was that she could no longer go on ignoring the feelings that were swelling inside her body. She was blossoming into woman- hood, but could not realize her fantasies in fear of tarnishing her image as the fresh, innocent pop starlet. It wasn't so much to preserve her career - she knew in her heart of hearts that she could make it on her talent alone - but she felt she owed it to her fans. She wanted to be a role model to young girls, to tell them that it's cool to just say no to sex and drugs - to follow their dreams and to be individuals. But at the same time, Debbie was finding it harder and harder to resist the powerful desires coursing through her veins.
Yes, Debbie was a virgin, but it was more by circumstance than conscious choice. She was curious, but didn't want to just hop into bed with the first guy that came along. And since her busy career prevented any kind of real romance from developing, it seemed that she was doomed to chastity forever. It had been months since the last time she had been touched in a sexual manner. A smile crept across her face while her mind replayed once again that delicious evening.
She washed the tears from her face while her slender toes slipped around the tiny chain on the rubber stopper in the tub. A gentle tug and the water began slowly draining away. Debbie began gently caressing her taut young body as the water lowered, exposing her soft flesh to the cool air. Bubbles crackled and popped on the delicate surfaces of her small, pert breasts - sending tingling pleasures from her tiny pink nipples to her moist womanhood.
"Kirk," she whispered to herself. "Oh... Kirk...."
To most people, Kirk Camer0n was just another television star. He played Michael on the popular sitcom "Growing Pains" - a winsome youth with an irresistible smile and a keen wit. But he was more than this to Debbie. Much more.
By now the water had reached the floating curls of her soft blonde pubic hair. Debbie ran her slender fingers through the tiny locks and remembered that night at the Emmys.
By mere chance they had been seated next to each other. They talked a little, mostly about being mobbed by hordes of twelve year old fans whenever they went out in public. But while they spoke, Debbie could feel Kirk undressing her with his eyes - tracing her curves and taking obvious glances at her tight skirt. He had an air of hungry confidence about him, and she felt desires welling up inside her that she had never felt before. The lights went down in the room, and the ceremony began. Kirk took Debbie's hand and began gently stoking it. Then he suddenly let go, and instead put his hand on her knee. Slowly he began to move it up her leg, stroking and caressing her inner thigh; making Debbie swoon in shameful anticipation.
A silver tear rolled down Debbie's perfect cheek as she slowly lowered her sleek young body into the white marble bathtub. When she was younger, a nice hot bubble bath was all she needed to raise her spirits, but now it seemed that nothing would calm her troubled soul. Life wasn't easy for the teenage singing sensation. It seemed that no matter what she did, no one would take her work seriously.
"Trite," the critics had called her last album. "Trite, cheesy and sappy." Debbie shuddered and began to weep harder. These were her innermost feelings they were poking fun at. If "Lost in Your Eyes" and "No More Rhyme" weren't heartfelt reflections of the depth of the human soul - she didn't know what was. And surely "Electric Youth" was the most inspirational song about youthful potential since David Bowie's "Changes." But still her finest works were ridiculed by those too emotionally and intellectually immature to fully understand them.
But Debbie's musical career wasn't what was bothering her, and she knew it all too well. Her real problem was that she could no longer go on ignoring the feelings that were swelling inside her body. She was blossoming into woman- hood, but could not realize her fantasies in fear of tarnishing her image as the fresh, innocent pop starlet. It wasn't so much to preserve her career - she knew in her heart of hearts that she could make it on her talent alone - but she felt she owed it to her fans. She wanted to be a role model to young girls, to tell them that it's cool to just say no to sex and drugs - to follow their dreams and to be individuals. But at the same time, Debbie was finding it harder and harder to resist the powerful desires coursing through her veins.
Yes, Debbie was a virgin, but it was more by circumstance than conscious choice. She was curious, but didn't want to just hop into bed with the first guy that came along. And since her busy career prevented any kind of real romance from developing, it seemed that she was doomed to chastity forever. It had been months since the last time she had been touched in a sexual manner. A smile crept across her face while her mind replayed once again that delicious evening.
She washed the tears from her face while her slender toes slipped around the tiny chain on the rubber stopper in the tub. A gentle tug and the water began slowly draining away. Debbie began gently caressing her taut young body as the water lowered, exposing her soft flesh to the cool air. Bubbles crackled and popped on the delicate surfaces of her small, pert breasts - sending tingling pleasures from her tiny pink nipples to her moist womanhood.
"Kirk," she whispered to herself. "Oh... Kirk...."
To most people, Kirk Camer0n was just another television star. He played Michael on the popular sitcom "Growing Pains" - a winsome youth with an irresistible smile and a keen wit. But he was more than this to Debbie. Much more.
By now the water had reached the floating curls of her soft blonde pubic hair. Debbie ran her slender fingers through the tiny locks and remembered that night at the Emmys.
By mere chance they had been seated next to each other. They talked a little, mostly about being mobbed by hordes of twelve year old fans whenever they went out in public. But while they spoke, Debbie could feel Kirk undressing her with his eyes - tracing her curves and taking obvious glances at her tight skirt. He had an air of hungry confidence about him, and she felt desires welling up inside her that she had never felt before. The lights went down in the room, and the ceremony began. Kirk took Debbie's hand and began gently stoking it. Then he suddenly let go, and instead put his hand on her knee. Slowly he began to move it up her leg, stroking and caressing her inner thigh; making Debbie swoon in shameful anticipation.
Top ten least manly ways to die:
10) Choking on strudel.
9) Waltzing off the edge of the Empire State Building.
8) Being mauled by the Easter Bunny.
7) Flushing yourself down the toilet.
6) Tripping on your own dress tail, falling down one stair.
5) Nicking yourself while shaving your legs.
4) Killer Canary.
3) Severe paper cut.
2) Killed in kickboxing match with Johnny "No Legs" Johnson.
1) Crocheting accident.
People get their pets cloned for the same reasons that open source software developers spend all their time cloning microsoft software. Because they are sad, lonely and pathetic human beings.
A silver tear rolled down Debbie's perfect cheek as she slowly lowered her sleek young body into the white marble bathtub. When she was younger, a nice hot bubble bath was all she needed to raise her spirits, but now it seemed that nothing would calm her troubled soul. Life wasn't easy for the teenage singing sensation. It seemed that no matter what she did, no one would take her work seriously.
"Trite," the critics had called her last album. "Trite, cheesy and sappy." Debbie shuddered and began to weep harder. These were her innermost feelings they were poking fun at. If "Lost in Your Eyes" and "No More Rhyme" weren't heartfelt reflections of the depth of the human soul - she didn't know what was. And surely "Electric Youth" was the most inspirational song about youthful potential since David Bowie's "Changes." But still her finest works were ridiculed by those too emotionally and intellectually immature to fully understand them.
But Debbie's musical career wasn't what was bothering her, and she knew it all too well. Her real problem was that she could no longer go on ignoring the feelings that were swelling inside her body. She was blossoming into woman- hood, but could not realize her fantasies in fear of tarnishing her image as the fresh, innocent pop starlet. It wasn't so much to preserve her career - she knew in her heart of hearts that she could make it on her talent alone - but she felt she owed it to her fans. She wanted to be a role model to young girls, to tell them that it's cool to just say no to sex and drugs - to follow their dreams and to be individuals. But at the same time, Debbie was finding it harder and harder to resist the powerful desires coursing through her veins.
Yes, Debbie was a virgin, but it was more by circumstance than conscious choice. She was curious, but didn't want to just hop into bed with the first guy that came along. And since her busy career prevented any kind of real romance from developing, it seemed that she was doomed to chastity forever. It had been months since the last time she had been touched in a sexual manner. A smile crept across her face while her mind replayed once again that delicious evening.
She washed the tears from her face while her slender toes slipped around the tiny chain on the rubber stopper in the tub. A gentle tug and the water began slowly draining away. Debbie began gently caressing her taut young body as the water lowered, exposing her soft flesh to the cool air. Bubbles crackled and popped on the delicate surfaces of her small, pert breasts - sending tingling pleasures from her tiny pink nipples to her moist womanhood.
"Kirk," she whispered to herself. "Oh... Kirk...."
To most people, Kirk Camer0n was just another television star. He played Michael on the popular sitcom "Growing Pains" - a winsome youth with an irresistible smile and a keen wit. But he was more than this to Debbie. Much more.
By now the water had reached the floating curls of her soft blonde pubic hair. Debbie ran her slender fingers through the tiny locks and remembered that night at the Emmys.
By mere chance they had been seated next to each other. They talked a little, mostly about being mobbed by hordes of twelve year old fans whenever they went out in public. But while they spoke, Debbie could feel Kirk undressing her with his eyes - tracing her curves and taking obvious glances at her tight skirt. He had an air of hungry confidence about him, and she felt desires welling up inside her that she had never felt before. The lights went down in the room, and the ceremony began. Kirk took Debbie's hand and began gently stoking it. Then he suddenly let go, and instead put his hand on her knee. Slowly he began to move it up her leg, stroking and caressing her inner thigh; making Debbie swoon in shameful anticipation.
Scotty was a guy just out of his teens. He never really was sexually satisfied. The reason for this was Scotty was a very picky young man. If he didn't like the way a girl straddled than he just didn't want her. Scotty was always looking for something new to tingle his dingle. He finally realized that animal sex was the answer to his problems. So, Scotty frolicked about the animal kingdom, in search of a species strong enough to appease his sexual appetite. He injected many animals with his long, flaming rod (of course excluding the insect world). He eventually became bored with the animals he sexed; he wanted an animal with real horsepower - a jackass, a mule, a donkey... whatever.
So, Scotty quested for his dream partner until finally, there it was, standing tough and strong in a stable on someone's farm (whom he didn't know, by the way). Scotty looked upon the jackass and thought to himself, "This is gonna be good...I can feel it." The animal stood silently, not knowing of Scotty's existence. Scotty said to the jackass, "Now you be good and you'll get a nice lil' treat..." Little did Scotty know, he was in for a little treat himself. So Scotty went on to his sexual calling.
Scotty stood behind the mule, inspecting the anus which would soon be his. It looked tight enough to handle his masculinity. Scotty was indeed horny over this particular animal. He depantsed himself quickly and with an excruciating thrust, the jackass was his. Scotty pushed, thrusted, jammed, and rammed his manhood into his zoological partner. Scotty groaned and howled... he was enjoying it too much. But unfortunately, I can't say the same for the jackass. He tried to pull away but just could not escape from the power of Scotty's arms. So with a quick HEE-HAW, the donkey leaned a bit forward, raised his feet and booted the living hell out of Scotty. The two hooves made a permanent impression in poor Scotty's chest. Scotty lay on the ground, bleeding and panting (short of breath, y'know? Wouldn't you be if a jackass you were fucking kicked the shit outta your chest?). Sad enough for him, the animal wasn't finished. Scotty, with an attempt to sit up, was immediately thrashed once again by the jackass's hooves, this time across the face. Blood and phlegm poured from Scotty's nose and throat (he was a bit congested that day). A nail protruding from the jackass's shoes also caught hold of sad Scotty's eye, ripping it clean out of his skull. Veins and arteries dangled from Scotty's eye sockets while he lay placidly on the floor of the stable. The jackass watched Scotty for any movement which could possibly hint at a sign of life. After a time, Scotty turned his head with a groan (bad move on his part, eh?). At that moment, the jackass charged in life-threatening fury. He gave one last kick to Scotty's body... straight to the groin. The hoof pene- trated Scotty's scrotum, crushing his testicles. Blood and urine gushed from Scotty's bladder. His penis, now severed, rested peacefully in a soft bed of hay, barely recognizable as a bloody limp stump. Scotty found his death bed, although it wasn't what he was hoping for. The body sat motionless and quite dead in a pool of blood, urine, phlegm, sperm, and hay. The jackass looked on with amazement and immediately ran to the adjacent stable.
Yes, there is a moral to this story.... Whether you like it or not...
Slashdot Mirror
I wonder how much taco bell induced gas emissions have contributed to global warming. Save the Earth - avoid the bean burrito
Steve Jobs did everything he could to ensure he survived, including leveraging his wealth to ensure he received the best health care. I'm sure that nearly everyone in his situation would have done the same.
Nobody blogs anymore. It's all about twitter
The great thing about standards is that there are so many to choose from
In my experience, wine makes it easier to fork
Boo! This has the potential to devalue my Irix 6.5 System Administration certification.
Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager
Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "Hacker Arrested after Bank Tampering"...
Damn kids. They're all alike.
But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain,
ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what
made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?
I am a hacker, enter my world...
Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of
the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...
Damn underachiever. They're all alike.
I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain
for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms.
Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."
Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.
I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is
cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I
screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me...
Or feels threatened by me...
Or thinks I'm a smart ass...
Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...
Damn kid. All he does is play games. They're all alike.
And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through
the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is
sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is
found.
"This is it... this is where I belong..."
I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to
them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...
Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...
You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at
school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip
through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or
ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us will-
ing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world now... the world of the electron and the switch, the
beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying
for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and
you call us criminals. We explore... and you call us criminals. We seek
after knowledge... and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color,
without nationality, without religious bias... and you call us criminals.
You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us
and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.
Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is
that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like.
My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me
for.
I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual,
but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.
Benson? I thought he was just a butler. I had no idea he was moonlighting as a Mathematician. Brother's moving up in the world.
A Day in the Life of Debbie G1bs0n
A silver tear rolled down Debbie's perfect cheek as she slowly lowered her
sleek young body into the white marble bathtub. When she was younger, a nice
hot bubble bath was all she needed to raise her spirits, but now it seemed that
nothing would calm her troubled soul. Life wasn't easy for the teenage singing
sensation. It seemed that no matter what she did, no one would take her work
seriously.
"Trite," the critics had called her last album. "Trite, cheesy and
sappy." Debbie shuddered and began to weep harder. These were her innermost
feelings they were poking fun at. If "Lost in Your Eyes" and "No More Rhyme"
weren't heartfelt reflections of the depth of the human soul - she didn't know
what was. And surely "Electric Youth" was the most inspirational song about
youthful potential since David Bowie's "Changes." But still her finest works
were ridiculed by those too emotionally and intellectually immature to fully
understand them.
But Debbie's musical career wasn't what was bothering her, and she knew it
all too well. Her real problem was that she could no longer go on ignoring the
feelings that were swelling inside her body. She was blossoming into woman-
hood, but could not realize her fantasies in fear of tarnishing her image as
the fresh, innocent pop starlet. It wasn't so much to preserve her career -
she knew in her heart of hearts that she could make it on her talent alone -
but she felt she owed it to her fans. She wanted to be a role model to young
girls, to tell them that it's cool to just say no to sex and drugs - to follow
their dreams and to be individuals. But at the same time, Debbie was finding
it harder and harder to resist the powerful desires coursing through her veins.
Yes, Debbie was a virgin, but it was more by circumstance than conscious
choice. She was curious, but didn't want to just hop into bed with the first
guy that came along. And since her busy career prevented any kind of real
romance from developing, it seemed that she was doomed to chastity forever. It
had been months since the last time she had been touched in a sexual manner. A
smile crept across her face while her mind replayed once again that delicious
evening.
She washed the tears from her face while her slender toes slipped around
the tiny chain on the rubber stopper in the tub. A gentle tug and the water
began slowly draining away. Debbie began gently caressing her taut young body
as the water lowered, exposing her soft flesh to the cool air. Bubbles
crackled and popped on the delicate surfaces of her small, pert breasts -
sending tingling pleasures from her tiny pink nipples to her moist womanhood.
"Kirk," she whispered to herself. "Oh... Kirk...."
To most people, Kirk Camer0n was just another television star. He played
Michael on the popular sitcom "Growing Pains" - a winsome youth with an
irresistible smile and a keen wit. But he was more than this to Debbie. Much
more.
By now the water had reached the floating curls of her soft blonde pubic
hair. Debbie ran her slender fingers through the tiny locks and remembered
that night at the Emmys.
By mere chance they had been seated next to each other. They talked a
little, mostly about being mobbed by hordes of twelve year old fans whenever
they went out in public. But while they spoke, Debbie could feel Kirk
undressing her with his eyes - tracing her curves and taking obvious glances at
her tight skirt. He had an air of hungry confidence about him, and she felt
desires welling up inside her that she had never felt before. The lights went
down in the room, and the ceremony began. Kirk took Debbie's hand and began
gently stoking it. Then he suddenly let go, and instead put his hand on her
knee. Slowly he began to move it up her leg, stroking and caressing her inner
thigh; making Debbie swoon in shameful anticipation.
Lying in the bathtub, Debbie's mind p
A Day in the Life of Debbie G1bs0n
A silver tear rolled down Debbie's perfect cheek as she slowly lowered her
sleek young body into the white marble bathtub. When she was younger, a nice
hot bubble bath was all she needed to raise her spirits, but now it seemed that
nothing would calm her troubled soul. Life wasn't easy for the teenage singing
sensation. It seemed that no matter what she did, no one would take her work
seriously.
"Trite," the critics had called her last album. "Trite, cheesy and
sappy." Debbie shuddered and began to weep harder. These were her innermost
feelings they were poking fun at. If "Lost in Your Eyes" and "No More Rhyme"
weren't heartfelt reflections of the depth of the human soul - she didn't know
what was. And surely "Electric Youth" was the most inspirational song about
youthful potential since David Bowie's "Changes." But still her finest works
were ridiculed by those too emotionally and intellectually immature to fully
understand them.
But Debbie's musical career wasn't what was bothering her, and she knew it
all too well. Her real problem was that she could no longer go on ignoring the
feelings that were swelling inside her body. She was blossoming into woman-
hood, but could not realize her fantasies in fear of tarnishing her image as
the fresh, innocent pop starlet. It wasn't so much to preserve her career -
she knew in her heart of hearts that she could make it on her talent alone -
but she felt she owed it to her fans. She wanted to be a role model to young
girls, to tell them that it's cool to just say no to sex and drugs - to follow
their dreams and to be individuals. But at the same time, Debbie was finding
it harder and harder to resist the powerful desires coursing through her veins.
Yes, Debbie was a virgin, but it was more by circumstance than conscious
choice. She was curious, but didn't want to just hop into bed with the first
guy that came along. And since her busy career prevented any kind of real
romance from developing, it seemed that she was doomed to chastity forever. It
had been months since the last time she had been touched in a sexual manner. A
smile crept across her face while her mind replayed once again that delicious
evening.
She washed the tears from her face while her slender toes slipped around
the tiny chain on the rubber stopper in the tub. A gentle tug and the water
began slowly draining away. Debbie began gently caressing her taut young body
as the water lowered, exposing her soft flesh to the cool air. Bubbles
crackled and popped on the delicate surfaces of her small, pert breasts -
sending tingling pleasures from her tiny pink nipples to her moist womanhood.
"Kirk," she whispered to herself. "Oh... Kirk...."
To most people, Kirk Camer0n was just another television star. He played
Michael on the popular sitcom "Growing Pains" - a winsome youth with an
irresistible smile and a keen wit. But he was more than this to Debbie. Much
more.
By now the water had reached the floating curls of her soft blonde pubic
hair. Debbie ran her slender fingers through the tiny locks and remembered
that night at the Emmys.
By mere chance they had been seated next to each other. They talked a
little, mostly about being mobbed by hordes of twelve year old fans whenever
they went out in public. But while they spoke, Debbie could feel Kirk
undressing her with his eyes - tracing her curves and taking obvious glances at
her tight skirt. He had an air of hungry confidence about him, and she felt
desires welling up inside her that she had never felt before. The lights went
down in the room, and the ceremony began. Kirk took Debbie's hand and began
gently stoking it. Then he suddenly let go, and instead put his hand on her
knee. Slowly he began to move it up her leg, stroking and caressing her inner
thigh; making Debbie swoon in shameful anticipation.
Lying in the bathtub, Debbie's mind p
Never landed on the moon. It's obviously photoshopped people
Wine me, dine me, $0.69 me
Maybe it's just shrinking because it's cold?
Long ago I learned the best way to meet women is a) be injured, b) go shopping with a baby, and c) walk around a park with a cute dog.
Ted Bundy, is that you?
The WSJ is a newspaper written by a bunch of neocon wankers. They don't think government can help with anything.
Mapleleafs suck
Top ten least manly ways to die: 10) Choking on strudel. 9) Waltzing off the edge of the Empire State Building. 8) Being mauled by the Easter Bunny. 7) Flushing yourself down the toilet. 6) Tripping on your own dress tail, falling down one stair. 5) Nicking yourself while shaving your legs. 4) Killer Canary. 3) Severe paper cut. 2) Killed in kickboxing match with Johnny "No Legs" Johnson. 1) Crocheting accident.
Obvious answer: God buried it there to test our faith. Reject Darwin - Praise Jesus!
People get their pets cloned for the same reasons that open source software developers spend all their time cloning microsoft software. Because they are sad, lonely and pathetic human beings.
A Day in the Life of Debbie G1bs0n
A silver tear rolled down Debbie's perfect cheek as she slowly lowered her
sleek young body into the white marble bathtub. When she was younger, a nice
hot bubble bath was all she needed to raise her spirits, but now it seemed that
nothing would calm her troubled soul. Life wasn't easy for the teenage singing
sensation. It seemed that no matter what she did, no one would take her work
seriously.
"Trite," the critics had called her last album. "Trite, cheesy and
sappy." Debbie shuddered and began to weep harder. These were her innermost
feelings they were poking fun at. If "Lost in Your Eyes" and "No More Rhyme"
weren't heartfelt reflections of the depth of the human soul - she didn't know
what was. And surely "Electric Youth" was the most inspirational song about
youthful potential since David Bowie's "Changes." But still her finest works
were ridiculed by those too emotionally and intellectually immature to fully
understand them.
But Debbie's musical career wasn't what was bothering her, and she knew it
all too well. Her real problem was that she could no longer go on ignoring the
feelings that were swelling inside her body. She was blossoming into woman-
hood, but could not realize her fantasies in fear of tarnishing her image as
the fresh, innocent pop starlet. It wasn't so much to preserve her career -
she knew in her heart of hearts that she could make it on her talent alone -
but she felt she owed it to her fans. She wanted to be a role model to young
girls, to tell them that it's cool to just say no to sex and drugs - to follow
their dreams and to be individuals. But at the same time, Debbie was finding
it harder and harder to resist the powerful desires coursing through her veins.
Yes, Debbie was a virgin, but it was more by circumstance than conscious
choice. She was curious, but didn't want to just hop into bed with the first
guy that came along. And since her busy career prevented any kind of real
romance from developing, it seemed that she was doomed to chastity forever. It
had been months since the last time she had been touched in a sexual manner. A
smile crept across her face while her mind replayed once again that delicious
evening.
She washed the tears from her face while her slender toes slipped around
the tiny chain on the rubber stopper in the tub. A gentle tug and the water
began slowly draining away. Debbie began gently caressing her taut young body
as the water lowered, exposing her soft flesh to the cool air. Bubbles
crackled and popped on the delicate surfaces of her small, pert breasts -
sending tingling pleasures from her tiny pink nipples to her moist womanhood.
"Kirk," she whispered to herself. "Oh... Kirk...."
To most people, Kirk Camer0n was just another television star. He played
Michael on the popular sitcom "Growing Pains" - a winsome youth with an
irresistible smile and a keen wit. But he was more than this to Debbie. Much
more.
By now the water had reached the floating curls of her soft blonde pubic
hair. Debbie ran her slender fingers through the tiny locks and remembered
that night at the Emmys.
By mere chance they had been seated next to each other. They talked a
little, mostly about being mobbed by hordes of twelve year old fans whenever
they went out in public. But while they spoke, Debbie could feel Kirk
undressing her with his eyes - tracing her curves and taking obvious glances at
her tight skirt. He had an air of hungry confidence about him, and she felt
desires welling up inside her that she had never felt before. The lights went
down in the room, and the ceremony began. Kirk took Debbie's hand and began
gently stoking it. Then he suddenly let go, and instead put his hand on her
knee. Slowly he began to move it up her leg, stroking and caressing her inner
thigh; making Debbie swoon in shameful anticipation.
Lyin
Jesus Chris told me
Scotty was a guy just out of his teens. He never really was sexually
satisfied. The reason for this was Scotty was a very picky young man. If he
didn't like the way a girl straddled than he just didn't want her. Scotty was
always looking for something new to tingle his dingle. He finally realized
that animal sex was the answer to his problems. So, Scotty frolicked about the
animal kingdom, in search of a species strong enough to appease his sexual
appetite. He injected many animals with his long, flaming rod (of course
excluding the insect world). He eventually became bored with the animals he
sexed; he wanted an animal with real horsepower - a jackass, a mule, a
donkey... whatever.
So, Scotty quested for his dream partner until finally, there it was,
standing tough and strong in a stable on someone's farm (whom he didn't know,
by the way). Scotty looked upon the jackass and thought to himself, "This is
gonna be good...I can feel it." The animal stood silently, not knowing of
Scotty's existence. Scotty said to the jackass, "Now you be good and you'll
get a nice lil' treat..." Little did Scotty know, he was in for a little treat
himself. So Scotty went on to his sexual calling.
Scotty stood behind the mule, inspecting the anus which would soon be
his. It looked tight enough to handle his masculinity. Scotty was indeed
horny over this particular animal. He depantsed himself quickly and with an
excruciating thrust, the jackass was his. Scotty pushed, thrusted, jammed, and
rammed his manhood into his zoological partner. Scotty groaned and howled...
he was enjoying it too much. But unfortunately, I can't say the same for the
jackass. He tried to pull away but just could not escape from the power of
Scotty's arms. So with a quick HEE-HAW, the donkey leaned a bit forward,
raised his feet and booted the living hell out of Scotty. The two hooves made
a permanent impression in poor Scotty's chest. Scotty lay on the ground,
bleeding and panting (short of breath, y'know? Wouldn't you be if a jackass
you were fucking kicked the shit outta your chest?). Sad enough for him, the
animal wasn't finished. Scotty, with an attempt to sit up, was immediately
thrashed once again by the jackass's hooves, this time across the face. Blood
and phlegm poured from Scotty's nose and throat (he was a bit congested that
day). A nail protruding from the jackass's shoes also caught hold of sad
Scotty's eye, ripping it clean out of his skull. Veins and arteries dangled
from Scotty's eye sockets while he lay placidly on the floor of the stable.
The jackass watched Scotty for any movement which could possibly hint at a sign
of life. After a time, Scotty turned his head with a groan (bad move on his
part, eh?). At that moment, the jackass charged in life-threatening fury. He
gave one last kick to Scotty's body... straight to the groin. The hoof pene-
trated Scotty's scrotum, crushing his testicles. Blood and urine gushed from
Scotty's bladder. His penis, now severed, rested peacefully in a soft bed of
hay, barely recognizable as a bloody limp stump. Scotty found his death bed,
although it wasn't what he was hoping for. The body sat motionless and quite
dead in a pool of blood, urine, phlegm, sperm, and hay. The jackass looked on
with amazement and immediately ran to the adjacent stable.
Yes, there is a moral to this story.... Whether you like it or not...
DON'T EVER SCREW WITH A JACKASS.
Will this work if it gets wet? I'd like to use it in the girls locker room..
Hooray, another drunk driver back on the streets!
Yep, big dicks up your ass also interferes with memory bitchez