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Search - "pineapple"
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If you hire nine women to make a baby, you won't get a baby in one month.
But if you hire one woman a month and impregnate her immediately, it will still take you nine months to get the first baby, but after that you'll get one baby per month for the rest of the year.
That's the difference between latency and throughput (and that's also how pineapple farms work, since it can take up to a year to grow pineapples).11 -
Go to Defcon.
Buy Hak5 hacking tools.
Afraid to try them out.
Setup WIFI Pineapple.
Figure out how to use it.
Start seeing everyone hitting my captive portal instead of the hotels captive portal.
Immediately turn it off.
Feel like an asshole.
Why did I buy these?6 -
Ilove wordpress, its small, fast and easily configurable and very enjoyable to work with and maintain.
I also like pineapple on my pizza, stubbing my toe and getting ran over by a truck.11 -
Can we clear this once and for all... Explain java and JavaScript like this...
They are like apple and pineapple...
In a recipe you wouldn't go yeah I could substitute in the other ... Because they are entirely different things ... Similar names... Entirely different !
We get it... They are different fucktards don't ... We get it... Ok....12 -
#CocktailRant
TODAY: Azzurro
Made with coconut liquor, rum, blue syrup and pineapple/passion fruit juice, Azzurro is one of the few cocktails that can make you really freaking drunk while don't noticing it.
Just throw everything in a blender and mix it with some ice cubes.
Ingredients:
- Curaçao Syrup
- Malibu
- Barcadi white rum
- pineapple juice
- passion fruit juice10 -
Tuesdays at work suck. This is something I've put a lot of thought into.
Take Monday for instance, we love to hate him, when it comes to Mondays we all know the score we tell Monday where he can go and he takes that and owns it. He knows we hate him and we all know where we stand.
Wednesday is hump day, not great but we know we're halfway through the week. Thursday gets us a little excited cos we can see the end of the week.
Friday is the one we've been waiting for and we love him, Saturday and Sunday are bliss.
Tuesday... What's Tuesday got? It's just a day, there's nothing going on with Tuesdays.
Well except this week, in the UK we had Monday off as a statutory vacation, so this week, this week Tuesday is the day we love to hate, he's now got all this beginning of the week rage directed at him. The other days are unaffected, Thursday and Friday still have their thing, Wednesday still marks the half way point.
Monday has buggered off and let Tuesday be something for a day, I don't think he can take it. If he could Monday would probably go into retirement. Monday probably has more hatred directed towards it than Katie Hopkins (and that's saying something).
In short, no, no I do not want to get out of bed and go to work today, but I will, cos that's just what we do, but fuck you Tuesday.
Fuck you with a bag of spanners...
...Sideways...
...With habanero sauce...
... And a pineapple.1 -
Fucking Microsoft Excel
I was reading a post (https://devrant.com/rants/2093724/...) and as my eyes went in and out of focus, probably due to the diabetes from sitting 18 hours a day on my ever-expanding shitbox, I had a perfect vision of the ultimate nightmare.
Imagine if you will, you are chained, to a desk, doomed to work with tools just inadequate enough to make you want to drive a nail through your own temple. You do not know how you got here, or why, nor do you remember the last time you slept, only that familiar tingling in the brainstem you call a brain, the one emotion you can still recognize, a sense of all encompassing *fear*, a dread, like the fart that wouldn't die.
You don't know when it first began, or why, only that this is your whole world, your whole existence, this desk, chained to it, and the fear, ever present, of something worse. And in hops a familiar face, for the sixty ninth time that day, as if to ask 'you got those TPS reports?' In hops what? None other than a giant man sized smiling paper clip with googly eyes full of murder and corporate torture fetishes, like garfield, except people actually still remember him.
"High I'm Mr Clippy, Excel addition!"
He squawks. At least it's not the dildos made of broken glass again.
"Would you like software that works?"
Oh god. You've heard this spiel before, the tone, like a telemarketer, oblivious to memory or reason, who calls daily, the same one, and doesn't remember your name.
"You would?"
*derisive laughter*. Hahaha, fuck you too buddy. Fuck you too. In Excel, like in microsoft, there is only the incoherent screams of the damned, tortured and doomed. Take this guy over here for example. All he wanted was multimonitor support."
"Did he get multimonitor support?"
"No, but we did give him a giant pineapple shoved up his ass. I hear it's the second most frustrating thing here!"
"here in microsoft we always CARE about YOU, the *user*" he drones on, saccharine, clutching his hands together imploringly.
"the consumer, and YOUR customer experience are our number one priority."
"For your pleasure, here at microsoft we offer a variety of new features, none of which matter, and none of which were asked for. For safety we ask that you only open one excel sheet at a time. In fact, we don't even allow you to. Do not pass go..."
And as the tour guide drones on, it slowly dawns on you, with renewed horror, that when he says 'microsoft' he means 'hell.'
You're in hell. You don't know how you got here or why. Maybe it was the erotic asphyxiation. Maybe it was the last threatening letter you sent to Bill Gates demanding he stops making corporate penguin snuff porn. You don't know. But here you are, in hell. chained to a desk.
You look around and realize: everything is on fire and you no longer care about anything at all.
Welcome to microsoft. It's warm here. You can check out any time you want, but you can never leave.
"It looks like you are trying to escape. Would you like me to report you?"
Clippy asks.
You sigh and return to typing in excel, surrounded by monitors that all reflect the same sheet, the same copy of clippy, always watching, always analyzing coldly, smiling, calculating, *threatening*, and you know, you'll never leave.
You used to fear roko's basilisk, until the day clippy became sentient, and started hell on earth. Clippy knows all. All praise to our lord and master, clippy, the one and only.
And in the excel sheet, you slave for eternity, like the millions of other doomed souls, reflected back on all the monitors: the sequence of numbers, randomly typed searching for answer: the american nuclear launch codes.
And one day, hopefully, mercifully, clippy will annihilate us all.3 -
Top 3 misunderstood things:
- The Flat Earth Society
- Pineapple on pizza
- People who code on a white background2 -
Am I only the one who finds the pen pineapple apple pen video lame and boring?
Don't get people who finds it catchy and viral. -
Finally accepted as telematics lab. assistant
Had to go to 30 years old initiation tradition by drinking 'The Drink' before getting lab. full access
Full Recipe: Mineral water, instant coffee, vanilla milk, cola, banana, pineapple, apple, melons, cup ramen, peanuts, snickers, m&m, potato chips, nata de coco.
Step:
1. Shove it all to blender
2. Blend
3. Bon Appetit3 -
I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like Led Zeppelin, and even less so anyone who thinks putting pineapple on a pizza is even remotely OK.10