5000th Post by me! [img]<___base_url___>/uploads/emoticons/default_laugh.png[/img][img]<___base_url___>/uploads/emoticons/default_laugh.png[/img]

 

Yes the 5000th post has been reached here on Linux-noob.

 

Our members have made a total of 5000 posts

We have 779 registered members

The newest member is forkart

Most users ever online was 403 on Feb 3 2005, 11:08 PM

 

 

We are now truely a community.

Lindows is now called Linspire after several Microsoft lawsuits.

 

Version 5 is out and I thought I'd get it for my sis after I ran an antivirus check and found 12, yes 12 virii on the system. No wonder everything took so long.

 

I'll post some screenshots up after I've had a good look! :)

THE BEST RESIGNATION LETTER EVER

 

Actual letter of resignation from an employee at Zantex Computers, USA, to

her boss, who apparently resigned very soon afterwards!

 

Dear Mr. Baker,

 

As a graduate of an institution of higher education, I have a few very basic

expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an

intellect that ranges above the common ground squirrel. After your

consistent and annoying harassment of my coworkers and me during the

commission of our duties, I can only surmise that you are one of the few

true genetic wastes of our

time.

 

Asking me, a network administrator, to explain every little nuance of

everything I do each time you happen to stroll into my office is not only a

waste of time, but also a waste of precious oxygen. I was hired because I

know how to network computer systems, and you were apparently hired to

provide amusement to myself and other employees, who watch you vainly

attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" for the hundredth time.

 

You will never understand computers. Something as incredibly simple as

binary still gives you too many options. You will also never understand why

people hate you, but I am going to try and explain it to you, even though I

am sure this will be just as effective as telling you what an IP is. Your

shiny new iMac has more personality than you ever will.

 

You walk around the building all day, shiftlessly looking for fault in

others. You have a sharp dressed useless look about you that may have

worked for your interview, but now that you actually have responsibility,

you pawn it off on overworked staff, hoping their talent will cover for your

glaring ineptitude. In a world of managerial evolution, you are the

blue-green algae that everyone else eats and laughs at. Managers like you

are a sad proof of the Dilbert principle. Since this situation is unlikely

to change without you getting a full frontal lobotomy reversal, I am forced

to tender my resignation, however I have a few parting thoughts.

 

1. When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for you

to give me a bad recommendation. The most you can say to hurt me is "I

prefer not to comment." I will have friends randomly call you over the next

couple of years to keep you honest, because I know you would be unable to do

it on your own.

 

2. I have all the passwords to every account on the system, and I know every

password you have used for the last five years. If you decide to get cute,

I am going to publish your "favorites list", which I conveniently saved when

you made me "back up" your useless files. I do believe that terms like

"Lolita" are not usually viewed favorably by the administration.

 

3. When you borrowed the digital camera to "take pictures of your Mother's

birthday," you neglected to mention that you were going to take pictures of

yourself in the mirror nude. Then you forgot to erase them like the

techno-moron you really are. Suffice it to say I have never seen such odd

acts with a sauce bottle, but I assure you that those have been copied and

kept in safe places pending the authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation.

(Try to use a spell check please; I hate having to correct your mistakes.)

 

Thank you for your time, and I expect the letter of recommendation on my

desk by 8:00 am tomorrow. One word of this to anybody, and all of your

little twisted repugnant obsessions will be open to the public. Never f***

with your systems administrator. Why? Because they know what you do with

all that free time!

 

Wishing you a grand and glorious day

 

....

A husband and wife are getting ready for bed.

 

The wife is standing in front of a full length mirror taking a hard look

at herself. "You know love" she says, "I look in the mirror and I see

an old woman. My face is all wrinkled, my boobs are barely above

my waist, my butt is hanging out a mile. I've got fat legs and my arms

are all flabby"

 

She turns to her husband and says.....

"Tell me something positive to make me feel better about myself".

 

He thinks about it for a bit and then says "well......there's nothing wrong

with your eyesight!"

How To Impress A Woman --

 

* Wine her,

 

* Dine her,

 

* Call her,

 

* Hug her,

 

* Support her,

 

* Hold her,

 

* Surprise her,

 

* Compliment her,

 

* Smile at her,

 

* Listen to her,

 

* Laugh with her,

 

* Cry with her,

 

* Romance her,

 

* Encourage her,

 

* Believe in her,

 

* Pray with her,

 

* Pray for her,

 

* Cuddle with her,

 

* Shop with her,

 

* Give her jewelry,

 

* Buy her flowers,

 

* Hold her hand,

 

* Write love letters to her,

 

* Go to the end of the Earth and back again for her.

 

 

How to impress a man:

 

* Show up naked

 

* Bring chicken wings

 

* Don't block the TV

She was Soooooooo Blond . .

* She thought a quarterback was a refund.

* She thought General Motors was in the army.

* She thought Meow Mix was a CD for cats.

* She thought Boyz II Men was a day care center.

* At the bottom of an application where it says "Sign here:" she wrote "Sagittarius."

 

She Was Soooooooooooooo Blond...

* She took the ruler to bed to see how long she slept.

* She sent a fax with a stamp on it.

* Under "education" on her job application, she put "Hooked On Phonics."

 

She was! s Sooooooooooooooooo Blond...

* She tripped over a cordless phone.

* She spent 20 minutes looking at the orange juice can because it said "Concentrate."

* She told me to meet her at the corner of "WALK" and "DON'T WALK."

* She tried to put M&M's in alphabetical order.

 

She was Soooooooooooooooooooo Blond...

* She studied for a blood test.

* She sold the car for gas money.

* When she missed bus #44 she took bus #22 twice instead.

* When she went to the airport and saw a sign that said, "Airport Left," she turned around and went home.

 

She Was Sooooooooooooooooooooo Blond...

* When she heard that 90% of all crimes occur around the home, she moved.

* She thought if she spoke her mind, she'd be speechless.

* She thought that she could not use her AM radio in the evening..

* She had a shirt that said "TGIF," which she thought stood for "This Goes In Front."

 

 

AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE:

 

She is sooooooooooooooooo Blond...

 

* She thinks Taco Bell is the Mexican phone company.

The day finally arrived: Forest Gump dies and goes to Heaven.

He is at the Pearly Gates, met by St. Peter himself. However, the

gates are closed and Forest approaches the Gatekeeper.

 

St. Peter says, "Well, Forest, it's certainly good to see you. We

have heard a lot about you. I must tell you, though, that the place

is filling up fast, and we've been administering an entrance

examination for everyone. The test is short, but you have to pass it

before you can get into Heaven.

 

Forest responds, "It sure is good to be here St. Peter, sir. But

nobody ever told me about any entrance exam. sure hope the test isn't

too hard; life was a big enough test as it was."

 

St. Peter goes on, "Yes, I know, Forest, but the test is only three

questions. First: What two days of the week begin with the letter T?

Second: How many seconds are there in a year? Third: What is God's

first name?"

 

Forest leaves to think the questions over. He returns the next day

and sees St. Peter who waves him up and says, "Now that you have had

a chance to think the questions over, tell me your answers."

 

Forest says, "Well, the first one -- which two days in the week begin

with the letter ''T?" Shucks, that one's easy. That'd be Today and

Tomorrow."

 

The Saint's eyes open wide and he exclaims, "Forest, that's not what

I was thinking, but you do have a point, and I guess I didn't specify,

so I'll give you credit for that answer.

 

How about the next one?" asks St. Peter. "How many seconds in a

year?"

 

"Twelve." Said Forest

 

Astounded, St. Peter says, "Twelve? Twelve!? Forest, how in

Heaven's name could you come up with twelve seconds in a year?"

 

Forest says "Shucks, there's gotta be twelve: January 2nd, February

2nd, March 2nd..."

 

"Hold it, " interrupts St. Peter. "I see where you're going with

this, and I see your point, though that wasn't quite what I had in

mind...but I'll have to give you credit for that one, too. Let's go

on with the third and final question. Can you tell me God's first

name"?

 

"Sure" Forest replied, "its Andy."

 

Andy?!" exclaimed an exasperated and frustrated St. Peter. "Ok, I can

understand how you came up with your answers to my first two

questions, but just how in the world did you come up with the name

Andy as the first name of God?"

 

"Shucks, that was the easiest one of all," Forest replied. "I learnt

it from the song..."ANDY WALKS WITH ME, ANDY TALKS

WITH ME, ANDY TELLS ME I AM HIS OWN. . . ."

A woman's tale of hair removal

 

Hair removal...................

 

You don't have to be a woman to appreciate this story. I guarantee it will

have women (men too) laughing out loud!!

 

All methods have tricked me with their promises of easy, painless removal -

the Epilady, the standard razor, the scissors, the Nair, the EpilStop, and

now . . The Wax.

 

My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home from work,

fixed dinner for my son and we played for a while. I then had the thought that

would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple hours: maybe I should use

that wax in my medicine cabinet. I set up my boy with a video and head to the

site of my demise, um, I mean bathroom.

 

It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just

rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart, press it on your leg (or

wherever) and ignore the frantically rising crescendo of string instruments in

the background. No muss, no fuss. How hard can this be?

 

I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm mechanically inclined so

maybe I can figure out how this works. You'd think.

 

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other,

stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the wax

(I'm guessing). I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer and heat the SOB to

ten thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ass. (Oh, how that phrase will come back to haunt me.)

 

I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the skin around it and pull. OK, so

it wasn't the best feeling in the world, but it wasn't bad. I can do this!

Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am Sheera, fighter of all wayward body hair

and smooth skin extraordinaire! With my next wax strip, I move north.

 

After checking on my boy and verifying that he was, in fact, becoming one

with Bear and learning all about smells, I sneak into the bathroom for The

Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship.

 

I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same

procedure, I then apply the wax strip across the right side on my bikini line,

covering the right half of my vagina and stretching up into the inside of the right

ass cheek.

 

(Yeah, it was a long strip)

 

I inhale deeply. I brace myself.

 

RRRIIIIPPP!!!!

 

I'm blind! Blind from the pain!

 

Vision returning.

 

Oh crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another deep

breath.

 

And RIIIP!

 

Everything is swirly and tie-dyed?

 

Do I hear crashing drums?

OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy - my wax covered

pelt that caused me so much agony. I want to revel in the glory that is my

triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an Olympic gold medallist.

 

But why is there no hair on it?

 

Why is the wax mostly gone?

 

Where could the wax go, if not on the strip?

 

Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet. I see

hair - the hair that should be on the strip.

 

I touch. I feel. I am touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently shout

"nooooooo!!" And realize I have just begun living my own personal version of

"The Tar Baby."

 

I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body that is

now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big mistake-- up

until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the toilet. I know I need

to move, to do something. So I put my foot down on the floor. And then I

hear the slamming of the cell door.

 

Vagina? Sealed shut.

 

Ass? Sealed shut.

 

A little voice in my head says "I hope you don't have to do #2 anytime soon.

Your head just might pop off."

 

A penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what I

should do next. Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest water I

can stand and get in the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it away, right?

 

Wrong.

 

I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than is used to torture

prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment. And I sit. Now the only thing

worse than having your goodies glued together is having them glued together

and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In scalding hot water.

 

Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax.

 

So now I'm stuck to the tub.

 

I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty school so surely

she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin. It's never good

to start a conversation with "So my ass and hoochie are stuck to the tub. She

doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress laughter. She wants to

know exactly where the wax is on the ass - "Are we talking cheek or hole,

here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide the giggles now. I give her the

run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call the number on the side of

the box, but to have a good cover story for where the wax

actually is.

 

"You know that if we were working the help line at XX Wax Co. and somebody

called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd just put them on hold then

record the conversation for everyone we know. You're going to end up on a radio

show or the internet if you tell them the truth."

 

While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the wax

off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly goodies than covering

them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and THEN dry shaving

the wax off!

 

In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to other

subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is the lotion

provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start screaming "It's

working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations from C and we hang up.

I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the hair is

still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was numb by that

point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my medicine cabinet.

 

Never know, I may want to try it again

I'm curious as to what everyone likes for a printing system. I dont know much/anything about it though. I know that cups is the old timer for linux but I was thinking that there were other options. I'd like to know what other options there are, their pros and cons..etc..

 

Thanks

 

d03boy

This is an initial screenshot of an outlook clone that I have been working on. Enjoy, and post your comments.

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