Thinking Outloud, submitted by John. Unstoppable crazywoman Joan Brewer talks in half-coherent riddles about all of the stupid shit Bill Gates supposedly stole from her. She rants at length about uncovering various security holes, coming up with the idea for net appliances (hooray!) and getting ripped off, and doing everything short of inventing the Interweb. In the end she comes off as either a disgruntled employee of Microsoft who got by without ever using a computer or some sort of half-stalker of Bill Gates. Either way, it's crazy talk.
The same is true with Bill Gates. I was writing to him about design issue in his software, the security problems they create and the Chinese culture and war strategies also. I was also writing to him about the math problems in computers and sending him graphics with math errors so he could see them. Because Microsoft's software sets up most of your data in the same directories and with the same names on all computers, it's very easy to find, copy or damage.
Half of that almost comes within a hundred miles of making sense. Can you guess which half? No, it's not the part about Chinese culture and war strategies. Okay, I lied, nothing on this chirping, swirling, hell of a web site makes any fucking sense at all.
I started this in 1993 with a start up called Kiss Inc. but my Venus Project for a set top box was trashed by Microsoft. No one thought it could work. My first computer monitor was a TV and I still have it. I convince Gates to buy WebTV because I was targetted to women and women were born to shop! :-) Why did the dot-coms fail?
Hahahaha what? No seriously, WHAT?! I have no clue, someone help me. Yeah, Sun Tzu equals Chinese Hacker pictures that need to be decoded by Windtalker here. I gotcha.
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
A real friend doesn't move until the middle of August, ensuring temperatures in the 90s and a humidity that turns boxers into moist balls of ruined cotton.
Expendable? You must be joking.
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