The last one about a backup is a great idea. Not because some receipt can be misleading, but because my 20y+ with Windows showed me it has some temper on it’s own and can kick back for no reason.

I wish you to get it right without a problem.

The thrid one looks like a solid suggestion: https://learn.microsoft.com/en-us/answers/questions/544156/windows-10-pro-to-ltsc See if you trust it.

That’s so great we can plaster logos in the center of it without any reasonable considerations and it would still work, so that’s now abused by many apps and services. No, they weren’t designed to do that, it’s just a random obstacle, like a dead bug, that doesn’t obscure the reading too much. Trully impressive.

deleted by creator

That’s not mine, it’s a classic from 9mother9horse9eyes9.

Haven’t seen one. One another thing I miss from the previous site.

It’s an essay by tommorow morning or you are banned on every instance. I don’t make rules.

Okay, I’d try to salt your wounds harder.

I fall asleep in the closet but I wake up in my bed. Before I open my eyes I know she will be there.

She is.

Standing at the end of the bed. Morning time. She is not a person. She is something else. I try not to cry. I start crying right away. Can’t stop. She is tall but her body is not a body. It is just a pile of things. It’s covered in a long shiny robe. Shiny from a million blue-gold flies crawling on her. Long gray hair covers most of her face. I look up at the ceiling and scream and scream and scream. I scream for mommy to come back. The ceiling turns pink and fuzzy I am screaming so hard.

Then she is standing over me looking down on me. Her face is awful pieces of animal. I remember her eyes. The same eyes as the white horse Brittany rides, the one that mom said I could pet but it bit my hand and I had to go to the hospital. The eyes are just hanging on the face not really looking at me. Flies crawl on them. I am shaking scared.

Please God please please make her go away.

She snorts and makes animal sounds. Her old barn smell makes me want to throw up. She reaches out and her fingers are made of crab legs all different sizes. No no no. I hate crabs more than anything. When we go to the beach, my dad always makes sure to pick a part of the beach with no crabs. He says he can tell when there are crabs because no no no she touches my face with her crab hands horrible horrible I close my eyes as tight as I can and scoot against the back of the bed.

The touching stops. I press my eyes shut tight.

Tweets and chirps. “Drink,” a happy little voice says.

I keep my eyes closed.

“Drink,” says the voice. It sounds fun and cartoony.

I open my eyes just a little bit. Oh a dozen bird heads have crawled out of a hole in her neck. They move in different ways. I found a dead baby bird once in our backyard. It had no skin and blue lumps for eyes. It is there with the other heads. “Drink!” it says in its funny parrot voice.

She holds up a big silver spoon in her crab hand. A greenish monkey hand holds up a glass bottle full of purple stuff and pours it out into the spoon. I can smell it. Grapey like the medicine mom gives me. Is it the same stuff? She holds the spoon up for me to drink.

Please God make this stop.

All the birds giggle.

Her claw pinky pokes my neck. It hurts. I open my mouth. Down goes the medicine.

I lie there with my eyes shut tight. I cry and stop crying and cry again. I know she’s there. The smell. The flies. The sound of animal breath. Why won’t she go away? Please go away go away go away. Please God make her go away.

Something’s slipped inside my eyes. I can see it even though they’re closed. Not a square. Not a triangle. A shape I don’t know the name of. Lots of shapes. Oh no my eyeballs fill up with little people like a Where’s Waldo book. There’s a million of them all doing different things moving around in an old city with castles and flags. They’re running through tunnels and climbing up towers. I can watch them all at once. Wow. There’s a baker and a knight and clown and a queen with lots of – they’re all dying! Cartoony blood pours everywhere and they’ve all got scared looks on their faces and the blood washes away and they’re all playing and smiling again.

The places and people change. I see stories. They happen all at once, a hundred stories, but I can watch them all at once. It’s different people crying and laughing and living and dying and doing all kinds of things. It’s like seeing ten movies all at once and it’s so much too much I open my eyes.

She is still there piled up on the edge of the bed. The Where’s Waldo people are still there, playing and laughing and bleeding and dying. The animal pieces of her face open up and – look! there’s another face inside. It’s a woman’s face or maybe a man’s face made of wet clay. It’s smooth and beautiful and I’m not scared at all looking at it and I feel like I’m floating. The clay changes and the face turns into other faces – an old man, a young man, a Chinese guy, a sad black guy, other guys, a cat. The shapes of the faces change but something in the eyes stays the same. Staring at me. Telling me something.

The face changes one more time. It is a woman’s face. Mother. Maybe very old maybe very young. Mother. The eyes say something clearly. Mother. I can feel my heart beating when it beats it says Mother. Mother. Mother. The eyes are sad so old and sad and kind so kind like they’re sorry for me like they wish they could help me. But the face is still and the lips are pressed together like she – Mother – is trying to hide that she is sad. Trying not to be sad. Trying to be strict. Because…

Because she is going to punish me. It is the same look mom gives me when I’ve been bad and she puts me in time out. The face is mom’s face but also a thousand other faces. They feel sorry for me.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no no. I scream and scream scream scream.

Keep robbin’, stay hoodin’.

Cannibals are those who eat their own kind. This lion isn’t one.

I don’t follow your thought. Can you explain it?

Like a pizza cutter, all edge and no point.

Their business strategy is built on top of assumption they won’t. They don’t want this door opened at all. It was a great deal for Google to buy Reddit’s data for some $mil., because it is a huge collection behind one entity. Now imagine communicating to each individual site owner whose resources they scrapped.

If that could’ve been how it started, the development of these AI tools could be much slower because of (1) data being added to the bunch only after an agreement, (2) more expenses meaning less money for hardware expansion and (3) investors and companies being less hyped up about that thing because it doesn’t grow like a mushroom cloud while following legal procedures. Also, (4) the ability to investigate and collect a public list of what sites they have agreement with is pretty damning making it’s own news stories and conflicts.

Linus Insurrection Tips.

It’s really ‘Manga’ in what I read in the end of the alleged original doc. Can’t judge it yet, but it seems weird.

“When people starved to death in a fenced off wilderness farmland under the Tsar, they had it too easy!”

Okay, buddy.

Places for ссылка weren’t all equal. In the ealry 20th century this system was that leaky many Stalin’s pals escapes it too, and actually comunicated with civil populace around their place of imprisonment. Corruption in the last years of Niko’s reign was unlike to what it was in soviet era.

He was a prolific burglar, terrorist, extortionist and even pirate whose acts of expropriation supported both the ongoing operations in Russia and vacations of the likes of Lenin. A bloody bastard himself, he was very, intoxicatingly dedicated. And this trait goes through all of his life.

These weren’t Gulags, not even by the dates - as they got organized under Stalin - but by the principle. It was a send-over to some remote region, just like Gulags, but that wasn’t like a project of building BAM or factories most of the time, or even working. It was a pretty liberal (compared to a prison cell) containment but in a place that you can’t easily leave, usually close to some settlement in the middle of nowhere. There are gossips about young Koba fucking around in them or living autonomously even from the guards. It was probably more of a hard sentence before, but by the 1910s no one gave a fuck. It was, though, compensated by him getting sent to the most brutal of these in the end, yet, he managed to live on his own terms there and prepare for escape as best as he could.

Gulags, or working concentration camps, were way more brutal. No gas chambers, just a rolled back strictness of the regime and inhumane conditions, demands, and a better control over transportation, ID checks, meaning even Stalin could’ve had troubles getting into St. Petersburg like he did since every bedbug is counted and has papers, unlike an escaping georgian with a long history of violence.

It’d probably make it harder to deny some packets on ISP’s side if they block specifilc thiings like torrents. To mask this traffic under the one sent to Facebook, I guess it should be a bit more specialized.

Found here: https://goodbyedpi.com/2024/05/27/how-does-goodbyedpi-work/

Packet Fragmentation
Packet fragmentation involves breaking down data packets into smaller fragments. DPI systems often struggle to reassemble these fragmented packets, leading to content inspection and filtering failure. GoodbyeDPI takes advantage of this weakness to bypass censorship.

TCP Window Size Reduction
GoodbyeDPI also uses TCP window size reduction. By reducing the TCP window size, GoodbyeDPI limits the data transmitted in a single packet. This forces DPI systems to handle multiple smaller packets, increasing the likelihood of evading detection.

DNS Spoofing
DNS spoofing is a method where GoodbyeDPI manipulates DNS responses to bypass censorship. By altering DNS responses, GoodbyeDPI can redirect traffic to its intended destination without DPI systems blocking it.