Ack Quotes

Ack!" I said. Fearless master of the witty dialogue, that's me.

Ow. Ow. That hurt. Ack.. I'm dead.

I just... I understand you might want to start dating more seriously, and that means dating someone from town. But if you're going to do that..." This time he took a long drink of coffee, and the mug was still at his lips when he said, "I like Daniel. He takes care of you." I blinked. "Oh my God. Did you really just say that? He takes care of me?" Dad flushed. "I didn't mean it like-" "Takes care of me? Did I go to sleep and wake up in the nineteenth century?" I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. "Ack! I can't go to school like this. Where's my corset? My bonnet?

Ooo, let’s see, I need to get my spicy barbecue sauce. Definitely some oven mitts, ‘cause he’s gonna be hot from being flame-broiled. I need to get a couple of them apple trees to make wood chips so the meat be nice and appley tasting. Give it that extra yumminess, ‘cause I don’t like that Daimon flavor. Ack! (Simi)

Ack, joke gone bad, joke gone bad,” Brenna wails, flapping her hands. “Run away. Run away.

Ack! Parables. I hate parables.

I like Daniel. He takes care of you." I blinked. "Oh my God. Did you really just say that? He takes care of me?" Dad flushed. "I didn't mean it like-" "Takes care of me? Did I go to sleep and wake up in the nineteenth century?" I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. "Ack! I can't go to school like this. Where's my corset? My bonnet?" Dad sighed as Mom walked in with her empty teacup. "What did I miss?" She said. "Dad's trying to marry me off to Daniel." I looked at him. "You know, if you offer him a new truck for a dowry, he might go for it.

It was informational. About how to perform oral sex on men. You know, one man teaching another. It was really fascinating and I’ve always wondered about the techniques he discussed—ow. Ow! You’re squeezing a little hard, Van Holtz.” . . . “Well, if you’re willing to be my test subject—ack!

Ack! I'm blind. Old man dick alert. Cover it up. She protested with her mouth, yet her eyes remained locked on his bare body. He swelled up to an even mightier size. Good grief. Just how big does that thing get? Should I duck and cover before it explodes?

he opened his mouth to shout, only to have dog tongue brush against his own. “Ack! No! Why! Why.” “Apollo,” Hugo said mildly. Apollo immediately stepped back, sitting once again beside Hugo, looking down at Wallace as if he were the asshole in this situation.

Hopping over the side of the couch I landed on top of him. "My bones are so heavy! I don't think I can move." I groaned. "Ack!" he grunted. "I can't breathe." "Oh noes! However will I get up so that my bubby can breathe?

Though Kurt would later claim that his graffiti messages were political, in fact, most of what he wrote was nonsensical. He enraged a neighbor with a boat by painting “Boat Ack” in red letters on the ship’s hull; on the other side he lettered, “Boat people go home.

After a few seconds of scraping, I realize what he has isn’t a trail, it’s a whole forest! Ack! Weren’t all men supposed to shave their chest and stuff nowadays? Whatever happened to having fuzz-free Hollywood heroes as role models? At least my embarrassment is completely foregone by the irritation at his lack of upkeep. The only thing distracting me now is that heady mix of musk, shaving cream and a distinctly…male scent. And God knows that is one seriously jeopardizing distraction. Especially with a whizzing needle in one’s hand.

An Osage remarked that such white men "ack like tomorrow they ain't gonna be no more worl'.

I slid over to the edge of the bed and leaned back, letting my hair fall onto him. "Ack!" he cried. "Don't scare me like that!

but wait till it happens to you! The ack-ack guns make so much noise you can’t hear your own voice.

Time to blow shit up.

Does this look old to you?” “Ack! I’m blind. Old man dick alert. Cover it up.” She protested with her mouth, yet her eyes remained locked on his bare body. He swelled to an even mightier size. “Good grief. Just how big does that thing get? Should I duck and cover before it explodes?” “Do ye never stop talking? I swear, lass. Ye chatter enough to drive a man insane. If I were your husband, I’d gag you.” A subtle thrust of his hips let her know with what.

Sisyphus cheated death,” Nico explained. “First he chained up Thanatos, the reaper of souls, so no one could die. Then when Thanatos got free and was about to kill him, Sisyphus told his wife to do incorrect funeral rites so he wouldn’t rest in peace. Sisy here—May I call you Sisy?” “No!” “Sisy tricked Persephone into letting him go back to the world to haunt his wife. And he didn’t come back.” The old man cackled. “I stayed alive another thirty years before they finally tracked me down!” Thalia was halfway up the hill now. She gritted her teeth, pushing the boulder with her back. Her expression said Hurry up! “So that was your punishment,” I said to Sisyphus. “Rolling a boulder up a hill forever. Was it worth it?” “A temporary setback!” Sisyphus cried. “I’ll bust out of here soon, and when I do, they’ll all be sorry!” “How would you get out of the Underworld?” Nico asked. “It’s locked down, you know.” Sisyphus grinned wickedly. “That’s what the other one asked.” My stomach tightened. “Someone else asked your advice?” “An angry young man,” Sisyphus recalled. “Not very polite. Held a sword to my throat. Didn’t offer to roll my boulder at all.” “What did you tell him?” Nico said. “Who was he?” Sisyphus massaged his shoulders. He glanced up at Thalia, who was almost to the top of the hill. Her face was bright red and drenched in sweat. “Oh . . . it’s hard to say,” Sisyphus said. “Never seen him before. He carried a long package all wrapped up in black cloth. Skis, maybe? A shovel? Maybe if you wait here, I could go look for him. . . .” “What did you tell him?” I demanded. “Can’t remember.” Nico drew his sword. The Stygian iron was so cold it steamed in the hot dry air of Punishment. “Try harder.” The old man winced. “What kind of person carries a sword like that?” “A son of Hades,” Nico said. “Now answer me!” The color drained from Sisyphus’s face. “I told him to talk to Melinoe! She always has a way out!” Nico lowered his sword. I could tell the name Melinoe bothered him. “Are you crazy?” he said. “That’s suicide!” The old man shrugged. “I’ve cheated death before. I could do it again.” “What did this demigod look like?” “Um . . . he had a nose,” Sisyphus said. “A mouth. And one eye and—” “One eye?” I interrupted. “Did he have an eye patch?” “Oh . . . maybe,” Sisyphus said. “He had hair on his head. And—” He gasped and looked over my shoulder. “There he is!” We fell for it. As soon as we turned, Sisyphus took off down the hill. “I’m free! I’m free! I’m—ACK!” Ten feet from the hill, he hit the end of his invisible leash and fell on his back. Nico and I grabbed his arms and hauled him up the hill. “Curse you!” He let loose with bad words in Ancient Greek, Latin, English, French, and several other languages I didn’t recognize. “I’ll never help you! Go to Hades!” “Already there,” Nico muttered. “Incoming!” Thalia shouted. I looked up and might have used a few cuss words myself. The boulder was bouncing straight toward us. Nico jumped one way. I jumped the other. Sisyphus yelled, “NOOOOOOO!” as the thing plowed into him. Somehow he braced himself and stopped it before it could run him over. I guess he’d had a lot of practice. “Take it again!” he wailed. “Please. I can’t hold it.” “Not again,” Thalia gasped. “You’re on your own.” He treated us to a lot more colorful language. It was clear he wasn’t going to help us any further, so we left him to his punishment.

A few Grik lunged at them, but the vast majority only wanted to get out of their way. These they left alone, conserving ammunition. It was a little disconcerting. They’d never seen so many “civilian” Grik before, and it was stunning how little fight they had in them. “What a buncha pansies!” Silva panted, still having trouble with the heavy, wretched air. Three Grik had nearly fallen over themselves trying to clear his path when he menaced them with the Thompson. Its barrel was still smoking after a long burst he fired down a congested alley where another column of warriors was struggling to get at them. Those that followed fired into the writhing mass as well, the heavy booming of their rifles much louder than the stutter of the Thompson. “Pansies!” Petey cawed. “Pansies! Ack! Goddamn!

Section four people who don’t under stand homophones If ewe due naught no watt a homophone is, eye well X plane. Homophones R words, that win herd, sound the same, butt R naught spelt the same and mien differ rent things. Watt eye yam saying hear is that the English language ran out of words and had two reuse a phew. If some one is reading this too ewe rite now than it mite seam grate, butt just no that the purse son who reeds this is half-ing a reel pane full thyme. If ewe half know clew how two spell some thing and you’re teacher tells ewe two spell it buy “sounding it out,” ask hymn ab out home a phones, cause if the “sound ding it out” method was a hole lot moor ack U rate oar bet her than guess sing, wood home F owns X cyst? Ewe sea, hoe Moe phones own Lee X cyst sew you’re tea chair has a ree sun too mark down you’re pay purse. All so sew ewe sound like ewe half Ben drink king when ewe send text mess ages you sing voice two text. Two bee fare, English spell ling never maid much scents too beg in with.

It ain’t whatcha write, it’s the way atcha write it.

Things have changed,” he said. “There’s a new monkey in town. Tell your friends.

The question of what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object.

As they left the pier and walked into the park, Chahda looked around appreciatively. "Nice place, this. Capital of New Caledonia. Big island, has 8,548 square mile, also has 53,245 peoples. Eleven thousand in Noumea. That is what says the Worrold Alm-in-ack." Rick and Scotty laughed. It was like old times to hear Chahda quoting from The World Almanac. A Bombay beggar boy, he had educated himself with only the Almanac for his textbook, and he had laboriously memorized everything in it.

pilot’s duty, and that of his crew, to check constantly, even when over the target with enemy fighters attacking from every angle and the flak coming up from the German ack-ack batteries just, as Andy remarked, to make life a little more exciting.

Look, it doesn’t make sense for me to leave you pregnant and clueless on the pavement when I am headed for your very hotel.” “I can manage to find a phone and call for a cab. I graduated from college and everything.” “You don’t say? Can you take a degree in childbearing in this country?” “That was my minor. My major was social grace with an emphasis on tolerating the obnoxious—ack! I did it again! I keep telling myself, ‘Be nice, don’t insult him.’ Then you say something and out it comes.

And here she was on a parallel timeline, in a possibly radioactive dystopia, searching for her best friend—a rude, violent, ungrateful monkey, who smelled like a wet dog and drank like a fish — with only the electronic projection of her dead husband for company.

Her fusion reactor came online, generating power for the jump engines. Deep in her belly, the engines began to spin up until the old ship felt she could leap the length of the universe in a single orgasmic bound.

From the first moment you meet a kindred spirit, you know that they understand everything about you, and you understand them. That they'll have you ack no matter what, for as long as the sun and moon endure.

adult piglin pointed at Kate. “You need to get that thing out of here right this instant! If one of us goes through, we’ll get zombified!” Kate opened her arms wide, then pulled out her diamond pickaxe. “I know, I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” She mined the obsidian, breaking the nether portal then gave out the chocolate chip cookies she had been saving to the kids. “Sorry about that!”  She ran out of the apartment, Bruce following her. Mom saw her from the nether village square and waved, a big smiled on her face. When Kate got there before she could even talk Mom swooped her up in a huge hug. “Ack! Mom! We just saw each other like a few hours ago.”  “I’m allowed to hug my kids,” Mom said, winking at her. She set her down. “How’d it go?”  “Well besides scaring the piglins half to death, pretty good. I found the perfect spot and got a small mine started. Is everyone ready here?”  Mom nodded. “Yep. Lots of potions and launchers are made. We didn’t have enough slime blocks, so you’ll have to use water.”  “Rats,” Kate said. “Oh well, it’ll have to work. Let’s get everyone ready.”  They spent a while rounding up everyone who was going to be on the team and gathered in the portal room of the castle. Ethan and Elijah were both there, along with a whole team of miners. Also Alex, who had been in charge of making all the launchers, and Delilah with several other evokers.  “We thought some vexes would be useful against the creature,” Delilah said.  “Oh good idea.” Kate smiled. “I’m starting to wonder if we could just take care of it before Dad and Jack even get back. Wouldn’t that be something?

In the middle of that phase of my life, I suddenly came across Reincarnated as a Dragon Hatchling, a work written by Necoco-sensei published by Earth Star Novel. I confess that I was drawn to the front cover and title and bought it thinking it was a manga. When I cracked it open and all the words inside leaped up at me, my first thought was, “Ack, I bought the wrong thing!” However, I did spend good money on it, mistake or no, so I decided to give it a read.

Holy crap!” Thomas yelled. “Ack!” I agreed.

This is like a friend extending his hand to shake hands with you, you extending your hand in response, and then, at the last instant, the friend pulls his hand away. Although you or I would probably stop extending our hand back to someone doing this, the server doesn’t know any better and keeps answering every SYN packet with a SYN/ACK packet.

I wouldn’t know, though, about this supposed gallantry, because I’m not your lady friend.” “You could be.” He gave her another chance. She truly did draw him in with the roundness of her figure, hugged by faded denim and topped with a baggy sweatshirt that drooped enticingly off a shoulder, baring a black strap. Lace or cotton? A feline mind wanted to know. But apparently he wouldn’t know today, as she, yet again, managed to resist him. “Date you? Not likely.” Again words emerged from him without volition. “Why not?” “Oh please. I’ve seen enough to know you’re not my type.” Such a liar. Apparently he wasn’t the only one aroused by their repartee. The musky scent of her arousal tickled his senses. It made him bolder. “I guarantee when I’m between your thighs and you’re clawing my back, you’ll be screaming a different tune.” So he might have come on a tad strong with that last statement. That was still no excuse for what happened next. “Pig.” However it wasn’t the animal insult that was her most grievous crime. It was the gigantic hunk of hair she snipped off! An irreplaceable, thick chunk of his hair permanently removed. Accidental or intentional, it didn’t matter. Ack! My mane. My beautiful, precious mane. He couldn’t help a low rumbling growl. His eyes glinted in the mirror, the gold catching the light and reflecting it, along with his fury. “You. Did. Not. Just. Do. That.” And yes, he might have growled the last bit. “Oops? Did I do that? Sorry.” Said with no repentance at all. With a smirk and a blown kiss, she let her crime rain down over him in a golden, threaded shower. And then, she ran.

I cursed and rubbed my forehead. The radio sang its bigotry in perfect ’80s pop harmony. Let’s send ’em aaallllllll ba-ack to Aaaaafrica . . . I reached down to the knob, to find the radio was already off. Here we fucking go.

Simon’s face blazed with happiness. On the wall behind him the slideshow Rebecca had mentioned was still going on. A framed quote flashed up against the wall: Marriage is like a long conversation that always ends too soon. Ack, Clary thought. Morbid.

Ack! vad det här är odrägligt, viskade lilla ystra Märtha till sin syster Maria, jag skulle bestämt vilja gifta mig i afton, om bara jag kunde vara änka imorgon!

I will always be with you”—“nor forsake you.” The force of that promise is, “Being with you, I will never let you work alone. I will help you. I will not desert you as to My Presence and I will not desert y ou as to My succor. I will be with you and I will help you in all that you have to do.” This is a double promise and it is doubly sweet! Besides that, this promise wards off from us the most terri ble calamity that could possibly occur to us . It may help to make this promise increasingly precious to us if we think for a minute what would become of us if God did leave us or forsake us. Then, indeed, might the heavens be hung with bl ackness and the light of the sun be put out forever if God should leave us! The straight road to Hell would be open before us and we shoul d soon be going there if we were forsaken of God. It would have been far better to never have been born, or never to have known the way of life at all than, after all, to be deserted of God and be left to perish! Thank God that can never be the portion of anyone who has truly trusted in Him. Recollect also that, if He had not been God, He w ould have forsaken us long ago . Our patience with our fellow crea- tures holds out but a very little while. But it is because G od is God and, therefore, changes not, that we are not con- sumed. Have you not done a t housand times enough to have made Him forsake you if He were like the sons of men? I con- fess sorrowfully that I know I have. And if He could turn from His eternal purpose, and if His everlasting love could change, then surely He would long ago have cast my poor soul far away from His Presence, to receive its well-deserved punishment! Is it not a blessed thing to think that the very th ing that is most to be feared by any man can never happen to a Believer, for God has said, “I will neve r leave you, nor forsake you”? You well de serve to be forsaken of God, but He will never leave you! He will deal with yo u in the way of Grace, and not of Justice. If He left you, you would utterly pe- rish, but He will not and cannot do so —you are too dear to Him for His he art to ever turn away from you.

For example, in English we would write Dear Staff, I would like to recognize Sarah’s outstanding performance. In Slang we would write Hey Homies, Shout out to Sarah for doin’ her thing. In Cyber we would write dear staff i wld like 2 ACK sarah 4 her per4manz

Damn.” I slumped back into the seat of the car as Rene drove, worrying like crazy despite the reassuring presence of Drake beside me. “You do not have the look of a bride,” Rene commented, watching me in the rearview mirror, narrowly missing plowing down a group of schoolgirls crossing the road. “You have the look of one carrying the load of many burdens upon her shoulders.” “Ack!” I yelled, pointing out the front window. He glanced at the large truck against which we had, by some miracle, escaped smashing ourselves to smithereens. “Pfft. I was nowhere near that lorry.” “Had to be a good two inches of space between us,” Jim commented, peering out the window at the truck as its driver screamed and clutched his chest while slamming on his brakes. “You’re losing your touch, Rene.” My friend, chauffeur, and fate extraordinaire just grinned and gave his particularly Gallic shrug. “I will do better the next time, hein?” “My money is on you, my man,” Jim replied.

He had killed his way across the world; he had gone to war and back more times than he cared to remember. And despite it all, despite the rage and despair and ice he'd wrapped around his heart. He'd still found Aelin. Every horizon he'd gazed toward, unable and unwilling to rest during those centuries, every mountain and ocean he'd seen and wondered what lay beyond... It had been her. It had been Aelin, the silent call of the mating bond driving him, even when he could not feel it. They'd walked this dark path together ack to the light. He would not let the road end here.

Kill you!” she snarled. “Kill you for what you did to him!” “Holy crap!” Thomas yelled. “Ack!” I agreed.

He gasped and looked over my shoulder. “There he is!” We fell for it. As soon as we turned, Sisyphus took off down the hill. “I’m free! I’m free! I’m—ACK!” Ten feet from the hill, he hit the end of his invisible leash and fell on his back. Nico and I grabbed his arms and hauled him up the hill. “Curse you!” He let loose with bad words in Ancient Greek, Latin, English, French, and several other languages I didn’t recognize. “I’ll never help you! Go to Hades!

But I cherish every bad feeling I’ve ever had, every regret, every moment of boredom and sorrow and uncertainty. They brought me to you, after all.” Bonny made a sound like ack and bit Valentine’s leg.

Hair spray followed. Ack! COUGH, COUGH, the smell!

How are we supposed to rescue him?” Qibli cried, flinging his front claws in the air. “When we can’t even find him? Why hasn’t he sent me a message in three days? Just ‘hey, off to the Night Kingdom, toodles!’ and then ‘OH NO ACK I’M TRAPPED IN THE NIGHT KINGDOM’ and nothing in between!

He can’t tell him about me, though,” said Turtle. “Or if he does, Darkstalker won’t hear it. My enchantment hides me completely from him.” I hope. I hope I hope I hope. If I did it right. Which seems unlikely, knowing me. Ack. “That’s clever,” said Qibli. “How did you think of that?” “I used this brainstorming method called pure terror,” Turtle admitted. “It wasn’t so much clever as deeply cowardly.

A sigh flutters through her corduroy belly. Aging is easy, like falling down a hill. No choice involved. It’s reconciling yourself to loss that’s hard. I was eighty-five when I died. But I felt nineteen. I used to forget how old I was. I’d talk to you for long enough I’d think I was you. Then I’d look in the mirror and think, ack, who’s that old woman? A burst of shivering compels her from one cushion to another. Had I been anything other than a sheltered fool I wouldn’t have worried at all. I had the slut gene. I should have used it more. It’s in the family. You walk across the room, people pay attention. It’s not because we’re beautiful. We’re gnarled things who look like we’ve been pulled from the earth. Root vegetables: potatoes or turnips. Half of us miserable, the other half deluded. You’ve seen pictures of your cousins. However, we are possessed of the self. All arrows point toward us. A blessing and a curse. Not your mother, she was born complaining. Believe me, I was there. No fun at all. That will always be her fault because I made life nice for her. She married a man who couldn’t summon up enough juice to break a glass and lives her life doing cross-stitch, the only thing she’s ever liked. She’s rich enough now that she can afford to be good at only one thing. You kids don’t like your mother and I can’t blame you. But it’s a mistake to assume she doesn’t feel pain. The bird warbles, a mournful sound. As a girl, I liked to press her supple lavender cigarette case against my cheek. She was a real bummer, your mother. “She still is,” I say.

Den första lilla grisen gick till torget. Den andra lilla grisen stannade hemma. Den tredje lilla grisen åt rostbiff. Den fjärde lilla grisen blev utan. Den femte lilla grisen ropade "ack och ve".

No one in town really knows this boy, Maya. He showed up with his sister, and moved into a cabin that doesn’t even have electricity. People have been concerned about them, but he’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want anyone’s help. It bothers some people, the way they just appeared.” My eyes rounded. “You’re right. Do you remember the night they arrived? That big flying saucer hovering over the park?” He shook his head and pushed his chair back. “I know you’re serious, Dad, but I’m okay. Really.” “I just…I understand you might want to start dating more seriously, and that means dating someone from town. But if you’re going to do that…” This time he took a long drink of coffee, and the mug was still at his lips when he said, “I like Daniel. He takes care of you.” I blinked. “Oh my God. Did you really just say that? He takes care of me?” Dad flushed. “I didn’t mean it like--” “Takes care of me? Did I go to sleep and wake up in the nineteenth century?” I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. “Ack! I can’t go to school like this. Where’s my corset? My bonnet?” Dad sighed as Mom walked in with her empty teacup. “What did I miss?” she said. “Dad’s trying to marry me off to Daniel.” I looked at him. “You know, if you offer him a new truck for a dowry, he might go for it.” “Apparently, I said the wrong thing,” Dad told Mom. “Again.” “Never hard with our daughter.” She walked over and slid my sandwich into a bag. “Leave your father alone and get going before you miss your ride.

I like Daniel. He takes care of you.” I blinked. “Oh my God. Did you really just say that? He takes care of me?” Dad flushed. “I didn’t mean it like--” “Takes care of me? Did I go to sleep and wake up in the nineteenth century?” I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. “Ack! I can’t go to school like this. Where’s my corset? My bonnet?” Dad sighed as Mom walked in with her empty teacup. “What did I miss?” she said. “Dad’s trying to marry me off to Daniel.” I looked at him. “You know, if you offer him a new truck for a dowry, he might go for it.” “Apparently, I said the wrong thing,” Dad told Mom. “Again.” “Never hard with our daughter.” She walked over and slid my sandwich into a bag. “Leave your father alone and get going before you miss your ride.

Did I go to sleep and wake up in the nineteenth century?” I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. “Ack! I can’t go to school like this. Where’s my corset? My bonnet?” Dad sighed as Mom walked in with her empty teacup. “What did I miss?” she said. “Dad’s trying to marry me off to Daniel.” I looked at him. “You know, if you offer him a new truck for a dowry, he might go for it.

Charlotte opened her mouth and started singing very loudly. “The snow glows-”  “Ack!” Ethan shouted. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Stop!

Hey, you know the old saying: If life gives you lemons, pull a gun on it and say, "Fuckyour lemons, where are the goddamn bananas?

Once the application data transmission between the client and the server begins, the other should acknowledge each data packet sent by either party. As a response to the first TCP packet sent by the client, which carries application data, the server will respond with a TCP ACK packet,

I believe one of the most valuable lessons that comes with growing up is gaining the wisdom that gently informs you when it's time to retire a meme.

Now to discover which applications are present on a system, we simply send a hello request (SYN packet) to every port available and see which ones respond. That’s the main idea behind a port scanner. If we receive a ‘hello back’ (ACK packet) we know a service is listening on that port. The tool may then send additional requests to get more information: product name, version, etc.

At the heart of TCP congestion control is an algorithm called Additive Increase, Multiplicative Decrease, or AIMD. Before AIMD kicks in, a new connection will ramp up its transmission rate aggressively: if the first packet is received successfully it sends out two more, if both of those get through it sends out a batch of four, and so on. But as soon as any packet’s ACK does not come back to the sender, the AIMD algorithm takes over. Under AIMD, any fully received batch of packets causes the number of packets in flight not to double but merely to increase by 1, and dropped packets cause the transmission rate to cut back by half (hence the name Additive Increase, Multiplicative Decrease). Essentially, AIMD takes the form of someone saying, “A little more, a little more, a little more, whoa, too much, cut way back, okay a little more, a little more…” Thus it leads to a characteristic bandwidth shape known as the “TCP sawtooth”—steady upward climbs punctuated by steep drops.

Palm trees decorated the skyline, so tall and thin they defied gravity, their explosions of furry branches looking like ack-ack bursts on the horizon.

Well, anything up to half an hour late is considered on time, but anything before the appointed time—even a single minute—is downright gouchy.” “Downright what?” “Downright gouchy.” “Downright what?” said her mother, pausing in her knitting. “Gouchy,” said Imogene, clearly irritated. “You mean gauche,” said Miles. “It’s pronounced gosh, with a long O.” “I mean gouchy, Pruitt. It means crude.” “My, my, you ack-comedians,” said her mother. “What did you call us?” said Imogene. “Ack-comedians. It means scholars.” “You’re pronouncing it wrong,” said Imogene. “You mean academicians.” “Academicians? I always thought it was ack-comedians. Who’s right, Miles?” “I love ack-comedians,” said Miles. “If it means scholars it’s perfect.