Fuckin hell we are all dead

Fuckin' perfect! LOL

Oh, FUCK that whore rabbit! If we wanted slutty bunnies, we'd call R. Crumb!

People want their bunnies pure, and full of spunk!

(sooOOOOoo much spunk...)

That's why Lola Bunny is a complete slut compared to the perfection that is JUDY FUCKIN' HOPPS!

Judy Hopps doesn't fool around with sports! NO -- her job is to KICK ASS (and start the occasional race war). She whupped a rhino's ass! She whooped a cheetah's ass! She whupped BATMAN'S ass! Just LOOK at that gorgeous rabbit, with her long ears, twitchy nose and the kinda wide hips that are just made for grabbing and . . . uhh . . .

Have I mentioned the spunk?

Oh, she is FULL of spunk! She's just DRIPPING with so much spunk! And it's not rabbit spunk -- none of that for HER! It's FOX spunk she's dripping with! What an amazingly spunky bunny! She fulla so much spunk, she just can't contain it -- and I have the pictures to prove it!

(sooOOOO many pictures...)

I wanna state for the record, right here and now, that I am in no way, shape, or form, a Furry in a manner which is legally disprovable by my attorney. My turgid passion for Judy Hopps is purely platonic in the opposite meaning of that word.

Seriously, fuck Lola -- JUDY HOPPS FOREVER!!!!

Y'know, I saw that picture taken in New South Wales (Aussieland) of the gigantic goddamn spider that'd caught, and was in the process of eating, a sparrow. So I thought, "Huh -- that's some fucked-up shit right there, y'all..."

In your life, you will come to certain milestones, one of which is "accepting shit you ain't gonna be able to do nothin' about..." Y'know, stuff like Japanese people clubbing dolphins, the GOP and Furries. I mean, you're totally appalled, but there ain't shit you can do about it. You either accept it and move on, or head up to the roof of the apartment complex across the street from Anthrocon and see if you can get your name on the board.

That brings us back to the Dante-esque horror that was the gigantic goddamn spider from Boganland. What're you gonna do, right? You know that spider's paid off the Prime Minister and is on a Qantas flight to parts unknown (probably in whatever that class is that's above Business Class that the airlines keep totally fuckin' secret because of fears that if you found out they were serving dolphin steak and cocaine up near the pointy end of the aircraft, you might just decided to jump out of your seat, charge the hidden door to the Coked-Up Cetacean Lounge, and proceed to hoover every last flake of that fine, fine Peruvian blow -- or get shot seven times in the back if you're black) and will soon be consume children, the elderly, or blasted passengers stumbling off a Qantas A-380 with a wild look in their eyes and a coke-stache that would embarrass Chuck Barris.

So the moral of this story is: Jesus FUCK I love cocaine!!

Run The Jewels - JU$T

Mastered economics 'cause you took yourself from squalor (Slave)
Mastered academics 'cause your grades say you a scholar (Slave)
Mastered Instagram 'cause you can instigate a follow (Shit)
Look at all these slave masters posin' on yo' dollar (Get it? Yeah)

Look at all these slave masters (Ayy) posin' on yo' dollar (Get it? Yeah)
Look at all these slave masters (Ayy) posin' on yo' dollar (Get it?)
Look at all these slave masters (Ayy) posin' on yo' dollar (Get it? Yeah)
Look at all these slave masters

Ayy
Business time, I'm on mine, I be mindin' mine (Make money)
Every time on my grind, I'm just tryna shine (Stay sunny)
Make a dollar, government, they want a dozen dimes (No cap)
The petty kind, might kill ya 'cause they see you shine (Stay strapped)
I done had to have a talk with myself plenty times (For real)
Am I a hypocrite 'cause I know I did plenty crimes? (Yes, I'm is)
I get broke too many times, I might slang some dimes (Back to trappin')
You believe corporations runnin' marijuana? Ooh (How that happen?)
And your country gettin' ran by a casino owner (Ooh)
Pedophiles sponsor all these fuckin' racist bastards (They do)
And I told you once befo' that you should kill your master (It's true)
Now that's the line that's probably gon' get my ass a-assassinated (Yeah-yeah, yeah)

Master of these politics, you swear that you got options (Slave, yeah)
Master of opinion 'cause you vote with the white collar (Slave)
The Thirteenth Amendment says that slavery's abolished (Shit)
Look at all these slave masters posin' on yo' dollar (Get it?)

Look at all these slave masters (Ayy) posin' on yo' dollar (Get it? Yeah)
Look at all these slave masters (Ayy) posin' on yo' dollar (Get it?)
Look at all these slave masters (Ayy) posin' on yo' dollar (Get it? Yeah)
Look at all these slave masters

(Confucius say)
Man, you better duck out, get the bag and then bug out (Uh)
Try to run home, you might run your luck out
'Cause just when your bases loaded
They'll roll a grenade in the dugout (You're out)
Earth folk, not a mellow bunch
We got our thumbs in the air like Hell or bust (Uh)
Look at who we done blessed with our trust
I don't think we'll be left with too much
Hand on my heart and my mind on my drugs
Got a Vonnegut punch for your Atlas shrug
They love to not love, it's just that dumb
Lord, sweet Buddha, please make me numb
Brain bounce off walls like a sentient Roomba
Just found out his creator's stupid
Lit by the supermoon, I'm too lucid
Plus got shrooms in the blood, I'm zoomin'
Beep beep, Richie, this is New York City
The X on the map where the pain keep hitting
Just us ducks here sitting
Where murderous chokehold cops still earnin' a livin'
Funny how some say money don't matter
That's rich now, isn't it? Get it? Comedy
Try to sell a pack of smokes to get food
Get killed and it's not an anomaly
But hey, it's just money

Mastered economics 'cause you took yourself from squalor (Slave, yeah)
Mastered academics 'cause your grades say you a scholar (Slave)
Mastered Instagram 'cause you can instigate a follow (Shit, yeah)
Look at all these slave masters (Yeah-yeah)
Let it sink in (Yeah)

20/20, run the map
Raw, I'm uncut in my hourglass
Don't watch it spill to the bottom half
You see the piece, now run it fast
On the tarmac in a Starter jack
C4 when I run it back
Like a track star run a record lap?
Nah, like when his needle catch (Yeah)
Clean look, poet pugilist
A shooter's view, a Zapruder flick (Yeah)
Too rude for ya rudiments
Who convinced you you could move against the crew in this?
Comin' up through the fence
Offshore outta Port-au-Prince (Yeah)
Louverture left his fingerprints
On our hearts at the gate and the world our residence
How can we be the peace
When the beast gonna reach for the worst? (Yeah)
Tear all the flesh off the Earth
Stage set for a deafening reckoning
Quick like the pace of a verse
So I'm questioning this quest for things
As a recipe for early death threatening (Yeah)
But the breath in me is weaponry
For you, it's just money

Lyrics in case you want to sing along

Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, run them, fuck the slow mo

Fashion slave, you protestin' to get in a fuckin' look book
Everything I scribble's like The Anarchist Cookbook
(Look good, posing in a centerfold of Crook Book)
Black on black on black with a ski mask, that is my crook look
How you like my stylin', bruh? Ain't nobody stylin', bruh
'Bout to turn this mothafucka up like Riker's Island, bruh
Where my thuggers and my cripples and my blooders and my brothers?
When you niggas gon' unite and kill the police, mothafuckas?
Or take over a jail, give those COs hell
The burnin' of the sulfur, God damn I love the smell
Blankets and pillow torchin', where the fuck the warden?
And when you find him, we don't kill him, we just waterboard him
We killin' 'em for freedom cause they tortured us for boredom
And even if some good ones die, fuck it, the Lord'll sort 'em

We out of order, your honor, you're out of order
This whole court is unimportant, you fuckers are walkin' corpses
I'm a flip wig synonym, livin' within distortion
I'll bite into a cyanide molar before you whores win
I'm a New Yorkian, I fuck for the jump
I wear my Yankee so tilted I actually walk with a hunch
Look at Mikey, I think he likey, we are sinister sons
(Aye, we the type to beat the preacher with a grin and a gun)

Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them

A wise man once said, ("We all dead, fuck it")
Just spit it disgusting youngin', and hold your nuts while you're gunnin'
I listened, tatted a sentence on my dick last summer
Now I'll never get that phrase off my brain, it's no wonder
I'm here to buy hearts, I got hundreds, honey
The cheaper the parts, the better buy for the money
I'm trained in vagina whisperin', glistenin'
Waitin' for their christenin', I know the neighbors can't help but listen in
A dirty boy who come down on a side of dissonance
I can't even relax without sirens off in the distances
Not shittin' you, little buddy, this fuckin' island's a prison
The only solace I have is the act of conjugal visitin'

My solitary condition's preventin' conjugal visits
Go mane and missin' my misses, they keepin' me from my children
Conditions create a villain, the villain is givin' vision
The vision becomes a vow to seek vengeance on all the vicious
Liars and politicians, profiteers of the prisons
The forehead engravers, enslavers of men and women
Includin' members of clergy that rule on you through religion
(So strippin' kids to the nude and then tell 'em God'll forgive 'em)

Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them

It's De La on the cut, liftin' 6 on your stitchy crew
I'm miles ahead of you, you can sip my bitches brew
My battle status is burnin' mansions from Dallas to Malibu
Check my résumé, your residence is residue
Call her a skin job and my honey dip'll backflip for you
You playin', God your eye sockets, she gon' rip in two
We sick of bleedin' out a trace, spray a victim, you
Done dyin', Phillip AK Dickin' you
With clips in the bottom, we dippin' from Gotham
Yes eclipsed by the shadows, a dark dance to the coffin
I'm a fellow with melanin, suspect of a felony
Ripped like Rakim Allah, feds is checkin' my melody
Yes aggressively tested we'll bump stretchers and penalties
Dump cases with face and the cop pleas when we seizing a pump
With reason to dump on you global grand dragons
Still pilin' fast, plus Afghani toe taggin'
Now they trackin' me and we bustin' back, see
The only thing that close quicker than our caskets be the factories

Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them

The worst DevOps mistake I ever made:

Assignment: On ~1,000 -physical- RHEL systems, change the default run level from command line to GUI (don't ask).

Solution: Hey, all our config files are controlled by Puppet, so this'll be easy!

(If you don't know what Puppet does, it enforces file configurations, so if you change a single file on the Puppetmaster, that change is pushed out to all servers running Puppet)

Ok, all I need to do it edit a single file, change a single number in said file and issue a single command: reboot. Easy-fuckin'-peasy.

The file I need to change is /etc/inittab -- this file tells a Linux system which "run level" it should initiate upon booting up. runlevel 3 is command line and runlevel 5 is a GUI like Gnome or some other tragic perversion of the whole reason you run Linux in the first place. All I had to do was change from runlevel 3 to runlevel 5. And reboot.

So simple; so stupidly simple.

So stupidly simple at 3:00am. When I hadn't slept all night. On a production network. When I'm working from home away from the office. On a Saturday when no one is in said office.

I make my change and save it, then push it to the version control system. Puppet picks it up and pushes the change to ~1,000 physical computers.

Done and done!

Remember I mentioned that I had to change a single file AND execute a single command: reboot?

Here's where things go tragically wrong.

My changes worked PERFECTLY. Everything did exactly what I told it to: Puppet changed the file, and rebooted the servers.

Only they keep rebooting. They keep rebooting over and over and over and over. I can't access any server on the network. Worse, while I'm trying to figure out WTF I did wrong, the 30 minute time-out I'd set on our alerting system, Nagios, expires.

Did I mention that I pushed this change to ~1,000 servers? ~1,000 servers that won't stop rebooting and aren't reporting into Nagios, thus being marked as down?

At 3:31am, on Saturday morning, the pages to ALL the on-call engineers began. One page per engineer per machine. About one every two seconds. And I'm getting paged, too -- except some of the pages are Nagios and some are utterly irate engineers who want to know exactly WTF is going on and I can't tell which is which because I'm getting text-spammed like crazy.

And those servers? They just keep right on rebooting.

At that point, I felt the kind of existential dread that only people who work in IT know -- the kind of dread that arises a picosecond after you've hit ENTER and realized you've type 'rm -rf /' or some-such -- because I knew at that very second exactly what I'd done wrong.

I'd typo'd "5" and made it "6" in the runlevel. And pushed it to ~1,000 -physical- servers. And then rebooted them ALL.

"So," you're asking, "Whyfor is runlevel 6 a big deal?"

Because of this:

runlevel 3: command line.
runlevel 5: GUI
runlevel 6: REBOOT THE FUCKING COMPUTER.

What I'd done was told every production server on our network to reboot as soon as it rebooted, which leads to another reboot, which leads to another reboot, lather rinse repeat.

At 3:45am on Saturday morning, I knew that every person in IT would have to drive into the office, visit every production server with a bootable USB key, change the BIOS to boot off the key, boot the server into Single User Mode, change the damned file by hand, then reboot the server. This takes about 10 minutes per server -- times ~1,000.

I learned a number of valuable lessons that day:

1. DOUBLE CHECK YOUR FUCKING WORK.
2. See lesson #1
addendum: filing for unemployment insurance in Washington state is amazingly easy.

And that was the very last time I ever worked on physical hardware. To this day, if it's not in the cloud, I ain't fucking touching it.

Here endth the lesson.

Fuckin'-A right upvote for Tom Waits!

Those of you who have fuckin' homes and can keep them.

Love the use of Zoetropes for the video. Well done.


Lyrics..

Check the locks and leave the keys
Mouldy bath masked with Febreeze
Something's dead behind the refrigerator
Some poor fuck will deal with it later

I’ve spent the last ten weeks
Squeezing out the sponge of friendships, plugging leaks
I've talked until there's no more to say
I’m going away
I'm leaving LA
I'm leaving LA

And the tourists say
"Please give me the directions to the Hollywood sign
I always dreamt of coming here to see the Hollywood sign"
But on their way back down we'll ask
"Did you have a good time?"
They'll say "it's just some fuckin' letters on a hill"

I wander through the Bronson Caves
One more OK coffee at the Oaks Gourmet
I'll watch the players at the UCB
Trying to improvise their way out of ennui

Walking trails in the creeping dark
Up to the observatory in Griffith Park
There’s too much light for stars anyway
I’m getting out of this place
I'm leaving LA
I’m leaving LA

And the studio executives who never made a thing
Blaming other for their failures, taking credit for their wins
Wiping the blood of dumb artists from their chins
Singing, "kid you oughtn't take it personally"

On Hollywood and Vine a dime-store Spider-Man
Shouting at a stoned Emma Stone, dressed à la La La Land
And in the distance, in both its glorious dimensions
The sign projects its shadow on the hill

Rushing by machine-gunned cops at LAX
Malfunctioning departure board says we're boarding next
Belt off, shoes off, jacket off, hat
Don't need the attitude, but I quite enjoy the subsequent pat-down
And I’m sat down
As the A380 engine roars
Pushed backwards as this tube of monkeys rumbles forwards

I'm looking forward to another twenty hours on a plane
Nothing but shit films and my brain
I've been going slowly insane
I've seen your sport and I don't wanna play
I'm getting out of this place
I'm getting out of this place
I'm leaving LA

And the actors at Gratitude drinking undrinkable juice
And the agents taking ten percent in their sneakers and suits
And the writers in their Teslas trying to punch up Act One
Driving home on the 101 in the relentless fucking sun
And the needy and the greedy and the hopeless and horny
And the deals done on treadmills at ten to six in the morning
And the Captain's on the PA saying "look for the sign!"
But I find it's just some fuckin' letters on a hill
Just some really ugly letters
On a pretty ugly hill

I'm leaving LA
I'm leaving 'ell

Our government doesn't give a flying fuck about the GBR or the environment in general as evidenced by all the GBR scandals and the Adani mine.
To use an Aussie expression "It's fuckin fucked mate"

Fuckin' pieces of shit fuckin' obstructing him while he's fuckin' quality fuckin' reportin'. Ain't nobody confronting cops with the hope of being assaulted around here. Y'all.

Stay classy. The 80s called, they want their mullet back.

Wow, climbing ontop of that thing and banging on the hatch takes some fuckin BALLS.

Props to this guy for being a badass

See above...factual proof Trump voters are moronic racists was supplied.

Since you need lyrics, try these-

This is the United States of America, and you got a right to hate who you want!
So let's start bustin' heads!

Black against white
Yellow versus red
The fighting won't stop until we're dead
Until we're all dead

Burning, looting
Riots destroy the masses
Nightfall brings death
City reduced to ashes

Don't call me your brother
'Cuz I ain't your fuckin' brother
We fell from different cunts
And your skin, your skin's an ugly colour

Race war, we're going to a race war
Hate war, we're going to a hate war
Prejudicial homicide!

Bloodshed, rampage
Torture is not subsiding
Chaos, bedlam
Violent ethnic uprising

Muslims against Christians
And the Arabs versus Jews
The Catholics and Protestants
No one wins: we all lose!

Race war, we're going to a race war
Hate war, we're going to a hate war
Everybody's gonna die!

Xenophobic tendencies instilled in us at birth
Are mislabelled racism, hostilities getting worse
Accept the fact my distant cousin, we cannot live in peace
Isolated environments, they may just be the key

Human beings suspicious, soon fear grows to hate
We'll have each other by the throat if forced to integrate
Mothers watch their children die at each other's hand
Cain and Abel set the course, ethnocentric command

Race war!
Hate war!

You can run, but you can't hide!-Peter Steele-Carnivore

Fuckin' Elon gettin' stoned and farting around in the Model S Submersible mode again.