HOW TO CLEAN MY COMPUTER FOR FREE : CLEANING BLACK POWDER GUNS
How To Clean My Computer For Free
- A window in WinXP or earlier version of Windows, which shows icons for drives, folders, and files but does not show the folder tree.
- My Computer are a band from Manchester, England. Formed by Andrew Chester and David Luke, their music has been described as "a bold, fearless approach to pop music", "bleak at times" and "a perfect snapshot of modern British life". Their second album, No CV (2005, Gut), was produced by John Leckie.
- 's properties gives you System Properties which includes quick access to System Restore, the Device Manager (under Hardware), Remote Assistance invitations and more.
- Practical advice on a particular subject; that gives advice or instruction on a particular topic
- Providing detailed and practical advice
- (How To’s) Multi-Speed Animations
- A how-to or a how to is an informal, often short, description of how to accomplish some specific task. A how-to is usually meant to help non-experts, may leave out details that are only important to experts, and may also be greatly simplified from an overall discussion of the topic.
- free from dirt or impurities; or having clean habits; "children with clean shining faces"; "clean white shirts"; "clean dishes"; "a spotlessly clean house"; "cats are clean animals"
- clean and jerk: a weightlift in which the barbell is lifted to shoulder height and then jerked overhead
- Remove the innards of (fish or poultry) prior to cooking
- Make (something or someone) free of dirt, marks, or mess, esp. by washing, wiping, or brushing
- make clean by removing dirt, filth, or unwanted substances from; "Clean the stove!"; "The dentist cleaned my teeth"
Megcos Carry-Along Musical "My Computer" -Affor
dable Gift for your Little One! Item #LMID-1211
This superior toy, ''My Computer'' by Megcos Toy Company LTD, will help you r little one exercise their matching skills while offering hours and hours of fun as they listen to music, play keyboard, or practice their matching skills with various activity cards. The toy checks their answer, gives a vocal enforcement, and lights up red or green. A nice touch is that the lid can be closed, and the base has a carrying handle, so your kid can take their "laptop" with them, wherever they go. Not only your little one will enjoy this, but their friends, sisters, brothers and the whole family playing together! Comes in a colorful box measuring 10 x 9 x 8.5 inches.Exciting and educational, this toy would make a amazing gift for any child!
The Old B.B.S. Building
Remembering the Old B.B.S. Building... (photo by torontofotobug who lives on Flickr)
Somewhere between the internet being used for serious use by the military, and the way it's used now, was the era of the B.B.S.'s! (Bulletin Board Systems)
Young boys who used to play with erector sets, I hope I got that right, moved onto "hosting" mini forums ( B.B.S.'s), through (usually) a single dial-up phone line
(and the brave boys chose that to explain to their parents) that attached to their computer
Rudimentary, and a heck of a lot of fun, it was my
foray, flanked by my
buddy, into this medium. We frequented a small board, manned by a young boy named Brad, and were probably the only members over the age of 16. One at a time, you could chat online with the "sysop"(system operator, Brad in this case), play a game, leave a message on the "board", get kicked off, argue, have your poems stolen, download a reader or newsgroup, pretend you are a rabid monkey or hot princess. It was play!
The B.B.S. "virtual building" doesn't exist anymore but it did once in cyberspace.
Who would have thought that those cute little B.B.S.'s would grow into the monster internet that it is now. I remember when it was cute! Guess that's why animals eat their young.
So we start our story....
I know the phrase is worn, but it really DOES seems like it was yesterday...
It was 1993, or was it 94', when my buddy and I happened upon, what used to be, the old B.B.S. building. I'm trying to remember all the details but, as I said, it was awhile ago.
I had an old 286 at the time, been through a lot of crashes, but it was a means of transportation for two bored housewives looking for something that hadn't existed before they arrived. You wouldn't recognize the block now, but at that time most small dives that peppered the area had single lines to get in... heck lucky if there were two, and they weren't necessarily the better joints.
and..believe it or not, most of the places were owned by minors! My friend and I were drawn to a place that had a sign saying that they served adults. How could we resist? It was the only place that served over aged women. We were somewhat naive at the time but...
We went in...
The proprietor, he called himself a sysop, was a fifteen year old. He was so bright, yet alone and we couldn't understand why. What was his name again? Brad! Yeah, that was his name. Nice kid.
And the place was so quiet...
You could hear a pin drop. I almost expected one of the throngs to stand up and whisper "I am a teenage male, I love my computer
and (choke) I am an introvert. I'm sure all heads would bob in unison. I know I would say HERE, HERE! (sorry for shouting) Oh, and in the corner there was a cheap version of some video game and a message board, all well loved.
I think women were afraid to go in there, the men outnumbered them about fifteen to one. The truth is they were mostly kindly nerds, nothing to fear, and the worse that could happen to you was an occasional bout of a "Ping Pong" virus. I don't have to tell you what's out there now.
And you knew everyone...
Okay, maybe not everyone, but most. I did get to know one guy there. You might of missed him if you didn't really look. He ended up being a close friend; stood up for him at a wedding years later, talented, loving, perhaps overlooked in a different venue, but what a beacon there.
They say you never can go back...
Sure yah can, but don't expect things to stay the same. In this story they didn't.
The place had been taken over by a conglomerate: clean, slick, shiny, cold. There's even an e-bay next door, and though things seem pristine, there's an element that keeps popping up, hard to put an end to that.
The mix changed; there were plenty of women there and a hell of a lot of them bored housewives. I hear that those types make a piss pot full of money. I keep getting letters suggesting I might be interested in one. Interested?! Shit, I used to be one.
I did run into Brad, the owner of the old place. Get this, he is about 30 right now. Can you believe it? Ends up he had suffered from Tourrettes. Never would have known it. Talked about how cruel kids used to be, heck and we thought it was just teenage angst back then. Live and learn. There's a modern day lesson in there somewhere.
My buddy is now a photographer, I'm no longer married and the beacon doesn't exist, at least not on this earth.
It's not the same, but then again, I'm not either. Besides, I wouldn't have met you if not for this journey.
Perhaps we can chat later. I'll throw in a virus check for free
if ya get bored. ; -}~
It's not like I didn't pick up something from Walter Primate.
(a reference from "Caught in the Net" and "I am a Netoholic" ...other writings on this site)
God Bless America...
This was taken a few weeks ago while visiting my kids. We were so blessed as to be able to go out on a boat on Lake Erie. We all 5 had a wonderful time.
I don't remember the exact date but will have to check with my daughter and correct the "taken on" date to the right. That's always a good thing to have correct because then you can always remember where you were and when. lol I don't know why my camera was not set right.
Today ( being July 3 ) is the fifteenth anniversary of the death of our Father, John F. ( Jack ) Kelly. He always liked that his initials were the same as President Kennedy....JFK. In fact, he had his license plate saying JFK 79 until the time of his death. I have no idea the significance of 79.
Dad died one day short of our sister, Barbie's birthday. I am so glad he did not die on Barbie's birthday. She was the one who gave and gave until it hurt....to help our parents the most. They say there's always one in the family who is the real giver...and that person in our family is Barbie. She never sees my flickr at all..as she is not a computer
person, but it is important for me to let you all know how much of her life she gave up for my parents. I so appreciate her.
It's almost her birthday...yep, she was our firecracker. My Grandmother....we called her Mamie....always made our birthday cakes. She made angel food cakes with her delicious homemade icing and in the center we always each got a paper towel holder beautifully wrapped in shiny paper with a creation.. to match our personality.. from our Grandmother.
Barbie's was always wrapped in red and at the top of her bright red tightly wrapped paper towel holder was a pipe cleaner coming out of the top. You no longer could tell it was a paper towel holder when our Grandmother was finished. It looked like a giant firecracker...she always called Barbie her firecracker.
After the cake was cut, Barbie gently would take out her "firecracker" and open it. On the inside was a baggie stuffed ever so tight inside of the paper towel holder. On the inside of the baggie were so many M & M's...you couldn't count them. That was the special prize inside.
I couldn't NOT share what my cake was too, even though it is not my birthday..but my cake was so pretty I just have to tell you. I was ( and still am ) a huge doll fan. My Grandmother made my paper towel holder be a maypole....with tiny pieces of satin ribbon glued to the top of the paper towel holder covered in pink shiny paper. On the top of my cake..in the homemade icing.. stood many tiny dolls and each doll was holding a piece of the satin ribbon...as to appear going around the maypole. The paper towel roll was actual size and always stuck up through the middle of the angel food cake...a unique idea on my Grandmother's part we always thought. I also had M & M's inside of my paper towel holder after the cake was cut and the maypole torn down.
My Mother used to get mad at me, as I never wanted to cut the cake. I wanted to leave it pretty....just the way my Grandmother made it for me and not cut it or mess it up. I remember each year I would keep all of those tiny dolls...their little plastic eyes would even open and shut.
It now makes me wonder whatever happened to them. One of the lost treasures of a happy childhood memory.
Let me take this time to wish you ALL a very happy and safe July 4. Take the time to tell those you love....just how much you love and appreciate them.
With all of the deaths we have recently watched from Ed McMahon to Michael Jackson with some before and after and many in between.....it is a reminder to us all just how fragile life truly is and how we can be gone in the blink of an eye.
Never let a moment go by...never leave a stone unturned....without definitely letting the ones who mean the most to you....KNOW IT.
God Bless you all and yes....I love you and I'm not afraid to say so.
how to clean my computer for free
We live in a world, according to N. Katherine Hayles, where new languages are constantly emerging, proliferating, and fading into obsolescence. These are languages of our own making: the programming languages written in code for the intelligent machines we call computers. Hayles's latest exploration provides an exciting new way of understanding the relations between code and language and considers how their interactions have affected creative, technological, and artistic practices.
My Mother Was a Computer explores how the impact of code on everyday life has become comparable to that of speech and writing: language and code have grown more entangled, the lines that once separated humans from machines, analog from digital, and old technologies from new ones have become blurred. My Mother Was a Computer gives us the tools necessary to make sense of these complex relationships. Hayles argues that we live in an age of intermediation that challenges our ideas about language, subjectivity, literary objects, and textuality. This process of intermediation takes place where digital media interact with cultural practices associated with older media, and here Hayles sharply portrays such interactions: how code differs from speech; how electronic text differs from print; the effects of digital media on the idea of the self; the effects of digitality on printed books; our conceptions of computers as living beings; the possibility that human consciousness itself might be computational; and the subjective cosmology wherein humans see the universe through the lens of their own digital age.
We are the children of computers in more than one sense, and no critic has done more than N. Katherine Hayles to explain how these technologies define us and our culture. Heady and provocative, My Mother Was a Computer will be judged as her best work yet.
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