Chat Box GODAM it

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Racer-X (Online)
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Re: Chat Box GODAM it

Post by Racer-X » May 30th 2019, 7:24pm

3Flushes wrote:The door to the chat box disappeared on my portal and index pages a while back. I never got an ejection notice or anything


The listing of who is in the chatbox appears to be gone (I'd like it back), but the button to enter should be below the Donate button on the top right.

If it's not there, maybe try a different browser or turn off ad blocker if you have one.
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Re: Chat Box GODAM it

Post by 3Flushes » May 30th 2019, 8:08pm

Racer-X wrote:
3Flushes wrote:The door to the chat box disappeared on my portal and index pages a while back. I never got an ejection notice or anything


The listing of who is in the chatbox appears to be gone (I'd like it back), but the button to enter should be below the Donate button on the top right.

If it's not there, maybe try a different browser or turn off ad blocker if you have one.

Thx R-X- Nothing, absolutely nothing that the members here don't know... security found a mac cleaner library that sneaks on every time the Flashplayer updates... which I do at the Adobe site. I can't seem to remember to go throw it off every time I update- and all the other updates with piggyback shit.

You know folks, it's like we don't even own these fuckers anymore- OS - iOS it's all the fuck out of control. 4 - 5 grand for some computers- 2500 proly about average; a stinking grand for an iphone apparently to RENT it as Siri and the apple fucks appear to put on whatever the fuck they want and help themselves to your computer and phone life with the cloud- and everybody thought those fucking fucks did that cloud deal just to be nice.

The Supreme Court said that what is on our phones is so personal, so intimate, and private, the information so broad ranging, we are not required to unlock our phones for the cops unless they have a search warrant. But apple- they don't give a shit- they take it all, but don't trip- it's military grade encrypt-o-nated, apparently the flame-fusion version of encrypted.

Fucks.
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The past is never dead. It isn't even past.- Faulkner
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Re: Chat Box GODAM it

Post by conjurer » May 30th 2019, 9:47pm

3Flushes wrote:
Racer-X wrote:
3Flushes wrote:The door to the chat box disappeared on my portal and index pages a while back. I never got an ejection notice or anything


The listing of who is in the chatbox appears to be gone (I'd like it back), but the button to enter should be below the Donate button on the top right.

If it's not there, maybe try a different browser or turn off ad blocker if you have one.

Thx R-X- Nothing, absolutely nothing that the members here don't know... security found a mac cleaner library that sneaks on every time the Flashplayer updates... which I do at the Adobe site. I can't seem to remember to go throw it off every time I update- and all the other updates with piggyback shit.

You know folks, it's like we don't even own these fuckers anymore- OS - iOS it's all the fuck out of control. 4 - 5 grand for some computers- 2500 proly about average; a stinking grand for an iphone apparently to RENT it as Siri and the apple fucks appear to put on whatever the fuck they want and help themselves to your computer and phone life with the cloud- and everybody thought those fucking fucks did that cloud deal just to be nice.

The Supreme Court said that what is on our phones is so personal, so intimate, and private, the information so broad ranging, we are not required to unlock our phones for the cops unless they have a search warrant. But apple- they don't give a shit- they take it all, but don't trip- it's military grade encrypt-o-nated, apparently the flame-fusion version of encrypted.

Fucks.


You seem to feel pretty strongly about this, Triple.
My little brain can't even comprehend how deep that is.

--beefsupreme, commenting on his super rare Deep Blue wartche

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Re: Chat Box GODAM it

Post by 3Flushes » May 31st 2019, 1:01pm

codguy wrote:No chatbox for me, Siri can't find it.

TMMLH

Ever call a B&M to find out where they are? Address? The name of the cross street? Don't bother. The folks who work there don't know where they are. They GPS'ed their way to the interview, yet despite the fact that was 14 months and 300 + repetitions to and from work ago, no clue. Uhhhhhh, go 300 feet and turn right. In 5,237 feet take exit 14A, oh wait, did I tell you get on the freeway???

I caught an episode of a dumb show where a bunch people crashed in a plane and washed up on a creepy island apparently located in a tear in the fabric of the time space continuum. Everything we'd expect to be going on, is; finding expertise amongst the survivors- medical, building, engineering, hunting, fishing etc; a little leadership emerges- you and you and you go into the plane, remove and bury the bodies before they become a smelly health hazard. O.K. then. You 9 build a library and community center and poo poo huts. Like that.

So a couple'a survivors scrounging for foods come across, interestingly enough, 4 individual piles of baggage, which as the smart guy notes, couldn't have possibly washed up that way. Well, as luck would have it, smart guy's Dolce & Gabanna cabana bag is right on top of the last pile, which smart guy is jazzed about so he'll have his Passport with him when they are rescued. (Poor schnook). So as smart guy is rifling his bag to find his passport, he finds a satellite phone he'd forgotten all about.

So he turns on the phone and he has 1/5 th of one bar's power remaining and zero bars of signal. So, what would you do? What they did of course, head for higher ground. So after being tortured by this plight for height through two commercial breaks while the power trickles down, they finally get a teeney signal with 1/100th of one bar's power remaining, and no one can remember anyone's fucking number to call.

No one really does know anyone's phone number anymore, oftentimes, including their own goddam number. What's your number, I'll send you a text. IDK. What do you mean you don't know? I left my phone in the truck. You don't know your number? Nope. What for, I never call me... Another thing we don't have to use brainwidth for anymore.

While I couldn't be bothered to memorize any numbers I did take the above drama as a cautionary tale and put 6 or 8 on a sticky note in my wallet.

Old school! But worse.
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Re: Chat Box GODAM it

Post by conjurer » May 31st 2019, 2:14pm

3Flushes wrote:
codguy wrote:No chatbox for me, Siri can't find it.

TMMLH

Ever call a B&M to find out where they are? Address? The name of the cross street? Don't bother. The folks who work there don't know where they are. They GPS'ed their way to the interview, yet despite the fact that was 14 months and 300 + repetitions to and from work ago, no clue. Uhhhhhh, go 300 feet and turn right. In 5,237 feet take exit 14A, oh wait, did I tell you get on the freeway???

I caught an episode of a dumb show where a bunch people crashed in a plane and washed up on a creepy island apparently located in a tear in the fabric of the time space continuum. Everything we'd expect to be going on, is; finding expertise amongst the survivors- medical, building, engineering, hunting, fishing etc; a little leadership emerges- you and you and you go into the plane, remove and bury the bodies before they become a smelly health hazard. O.K. then. You 9 build a library and community center and poo poo huts. Like that.

So a couple'a survivors scrounging for foods come across, interestingly enough, 4 individual piles of baggage, which as the smart guy notes, couldn't have possibly washed up that way. Well, as luck would have it, smart guy's Dolce & Gabanna cabana bag is right on top of the last pile, which smart guy is jazzed about so he'll have his Passport with him when they are rescued. (Poor schnook). So as smart guy is rifling his bag to find his passport, he finds a satellite phone he'd forgotten all about.

So he turns on the phone and he has 1/5 th of one bar's power remaining and zero bars of signal. So, what would you do? What they did of course, head for higher ground. So after being tortured by this plight for height through two commercial breaks while the power trickles down, they finally get a teeney signal with 1/100th of one bar's power remaining, and no one can remember anyone's fucking number to call.

No one really does know anyone's phone number anymore, oftentimes, including their own goddam number. What's your number, I'll send you a text. IDK. What do you mean you don't know? I left my phone in the truck. You don't know your number? Nope. What for, I never call me... Another thing we don't have to use brainwidth for anymore.

While I couldn't be bothered to memorize any numbers I did take the above drama as a cautionary tale and put 6 or 8 on a sticky note in my wallet.

Old school! But worse.


Goddamn it, Triple, are you on the pipe again? You're sounding like a real boombots, what with all this shit about plane crashes and telephone numbers. The last time you got all twisted up like this me and HF had to drop you off at Montefiore in motherfucking Nyack, you scoochi-di-bandanz.

You'd best straighten out, sfogliadell’, and don't talk to nobody outside This Thing of Ours until you do. I'm getting too old to worry about motherfucking RICO predicates over here!!
My little brain can't even comprehend how deep that is.

--beefsupreme, commenting on his super rare Deep Blue wartche

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Re: Chat Box GODAM it

Post by 3Flushes » June 1st 2019, 10:49am

On the pipe? Marone! ON THE PIPE? As if all of this shit isn't going on. As if anything works consistently, wifi, bluetooth mumbo bullshit jumbo.
Hello- hello? Where'd ya go? Hello, I think I drove into a bad area I'll call you later. Hello. HONEY! What dear? The picture froze again. Fix it. I don't remember how, come fix it. JUST REBOOT THE THING dear. IDK how. Just unplug it and plug it back in! What?

And that's another thing; go spend you're entire stunod lives rebooting, restarting, loading and reloading, and updating and updating and updating and updating and updating. It's on you like wearing a turtleneck and a backpack... a weak midget tryin' to bring you down, all day.* Everyday.

If you want your shit to work like this, put checks in those envelopes instead of bills. GodDAMMIT

And, I'm never going back to that Montefiore, I'd rather do a doctorate's worth in college- I still have nightmares- but don't worry about This Thing Of Ours, I keep the number for the Betty Ford right here on my sticky note of numbers in my warlet...
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