Slider Quotes

When I was little, I didn't understand why ferris wheels existed. They were just sluggish and went up high. I got bored with it after only one ride. The roller coaster and the loop slider... I only paid attention to the thrilling rides. But... I kind of understand now. Ferris wheels are for slowly cutting across the sky with the person you like and maybe saying things like, "Isn't this a little scary?

There is no such thing as accomplishing a righteous reform by the use of 'expediency.' There is no such thing as sliding up hill. In morals, the only sliders are backsliders.

One of the early reasons for Atherton's devotion to Slider had been that Slider had never, from the first meeting, looked at him askance. Slider had his countryman father's view that God had made all creatures different for His own purposes. A horse was not a cat and a cat was not a dog, and only a fool would want them to be.

Max had no idea, but figured it had to be easier than getting around the gait monitor. “Let me worry about that. Just answer the question. Can you do it?” “Can I get you boys some more nachos? Or maybe some sliders?” Their waitress spoke with a Southern accent that Max would have found charming under other conditions. He brushed her away without looking up. Wang spent another second savoring Max’s suffering while he pretended to ponder. The obvious ploy made Max want to slap him. “Technically, it’s well within our capabilities.

You know,” Wayne said, “I’m an Allomancer too.” The man said nothing. “I figured you’d want to know,” Wayne said, “since it seems like this is your religion and all. In case you wanted someone else to worship.” Again no reply. “I’m a Slider,” Wayne said. “Speed bubbles, you know? Those fancy titles would work for me just fine, I think. Handsome One. Smart One. Um … Guy wif the Great Hat.” The only sound was that of their footfalls and the gusting wind. “Now, see,” Wayne said, “this is unfair. Wax doesn’t want you to worship him, right? But you gotta have someone to worship. It’s human nature. It’s ingratiated in us. So, I’m willin’ to be accommodatin’ and let you—” “He can’t understand you, Wayne,” Marasi said, marching past. “He’s swapped metalminds to keep himself warm.” Wayne stopped in place as they all hiked onward. “Well, when he gets his brain back, someone tell him I’m a god, all right?” “Will do,” Wax called from up ahead.

I label Derek an idiot, I label Bridgette an overachieving priss-butt, I label Arfie a dog, and I label myself the beef in a SooperSlider.

Good morning yourself,” Wiley said, kissing her cheek. “Cassi, allow me to introduce Stuart.” The third wheel held out his hand. “Stuart Slider.

With a sudden flash of anger, she blurted, "Lash wasn't impotent, all right? He wasn't ... impotent-" The temperature in the room plummeted so fast and so far, her breath came out in clouds. And what she saw in the mirror made her swing around and take a step back from John: His blue eyes glowed with an unholy light and his upper lip curled up to reveal fangs that were sharp and so long they looked like daggers. Objects all around the room began to vibrate: the lamps on the bed stands, the clothes on their hangers, the mirror on the wall. The collective rattling crescendoed to a dull roar and she had to steady herself on the bureau or run the risk of being knocked on her ass. The air was alive. Supercharged. Electric. Dangerous. And John was the center of the raging energy, his hands cranking into fists so tight his forearms trembled, his thighs grabbing onto his bones as he sank down into fighting stance. John's mouth stretched wide as his head shot forward on his spine... and he let out a war cry- Sound exploded all around her, so loud she had to cover her ears, so powerful she felt the blast against her face. For a moment, she thought he'd found his voice- except it wasn't vocal cords making that bellowing noise. The glass in the sliders blew out behind him, the sheets shattering into thousands of shards that blasted free of the house, the fragments bouncing on the slate and catching the light like raindrops... Or like tears.

Now imagine these choices pinned on a slider bar. On the left side of the slot is the pair personal/transparent. On the right side is the pair private/generic. The slider can slide to either side or anywhere in between. The slider is an important choice we have. Much to everyone’s surprise, though, when technology gives us a choice (and it is vital that it remain a choice), people tend to push the slider all the way over to the personal/transparent side. They’ll take transparent personalized sharing. No psychologist would have predicted that 20 years ago. If today’s social media has taught us anything about ourselves as a species, it is that the human impulse to share overwhelms the human impulse for privacy. This has surprised the experts. So far, at every juncture that offers a choice, we’ve tilted, on average, toward more sharing, more disclosure, more transparency. I would sum it up like this: Vanity trumps privacy.

BALLROOMS OF MARS" "You gonna look fine Be primed for dancing You're gonna trip and glide All on the trembling plane Your diamond hands Will be stacked with roses And wind and cars And people of the past I'll call you thing Just when the moon sings And place your face in stone Upon the hill of stars And gripped in the arms Of the changeless madman We'll dance our lives away In the Ballrooms of Mars You talk about day I'm talking 'bout night time When the monsters call out The names of men Bob Dylan knows And I bet Alan Freed did There are things in night That are better not to behold You dance With your lizard leather boots on And pull the strings That change the faces of men You diamond browed hag You're a gutter-gaunt gangster John Lennon knows your name And I've seen his

How soon do you think it is? Time will tell me. When it's autumn, the leaves fall. When the time comes, I'll know it. [Responding to a question about when he will start throwing his slider in his attempt to comeback from a career-ending stroke.]

Noneditable data should never be displayed in a control that looks editable or operable. Checkboxes, radio buttons, menus, sliders, and the like should never be used for noneditable data because they look operable. Even if they are inactive (grayed), they look like they can somehow be made active, and users will waste time trying to do so.

SPACEBALL RICOCHET" "I'm just a man I understand the wind And all the things that make the children cry With my Les Paul I know I'm small But I enjoy living anyway Book after book I get hooked everytime The writer talks to me like a friend What can I do We just live in a zoo All I do is play the spaceball ricochet Deep in my heart There's a house That can hold just about all of you I bought a car It was old but kind I gave it my mind and it disappeared I love a girl She is a changeless angel She's a city it's a pity that I'm like me I said how can I lay When all I do is play The spaceball ricochet I'm just a man I understand the wind And all the things that make the children cry With my Les Paul I know I'm small But I enjoy living anyway, yes too Deep in my heart There's a house That can hold just about all of you How can I lay When all I do is play The spaceball ricochet Oh Baby, the spaceball ricochet Oh Mama, the spaceball Oh, do the spaceball ...

Jobs spent part of every day for six months helping to refine the display. “It was the most complex fun I’ve ever had,” he recalled. “It was like being the one evolving the variations on ‘Sgt. Pepper.’ ” A lot of features that seem simple now were the result of creative brainstorms. For example, the team worried about how to prevent the device from playing music or making a call accidentally when it was jangling in your pocket. Jobs was congenitally averse to having on-off switches, which he deemed “inelegant.” The solution was “Swipe to Open,” the simple and fun on-screen slider that activated the device when it had gone dormant. Another breakthrough was the sensor that figured out when you put the phone to your ear, so that your lobes didn’t accidentally activate some function. And of course the icons came in his favorite shape, the primitive he made Bill Atkinson design into the software of the first Macintosh: rounded rectangles. In session after session, with Jobs immersed in every detail, the team members figured out ways to simplify what other phones made complicated. They added a big bar to guide you in putting calls on hold or making conference calls, found easy ways to navigate through email, and created icons you could scroll through horizontally to get to different apps—all of which were easier because they could be used visually on the screen rather than by using a keyboard built into the hardware.

... a tiny room, furnished in early MFI, of which every surface was covered in china ornaments and plaster knick-knacks whose only virtue was that they were small, and therefore of limited individual horribleness. Cumulatively, they were like an infestation. Little vases, ashtrays, animals, shepherdesses, tramps, boots, tobys, ruined castles, civic shields of seaside towns, thimbles, bambis, pink goggle-eyed puppies sitting up and begging, scooped-out swans plainly meant to double as soap dishes, donkeys with empry panniers which ought to have held pin-cushions or perhaps bunches of violets -- all jostled together in a sad visual cacophony of bad taste and birthday presents and fading holiday memories, too many to be loved, justifying themselves by their sheer weight of numbers as 'collections' do.

The violence of men, though, is modulated by a slider: they can allocate their energy along a continuum from competing with other men for access to women to wooing the women themselves and investing in their children, a continuum that biologists sometimes call “cads versus dads.”103 In a social ecosystem populated mainly by men, the optimal allocation for an individual man is at the “cad” end, because attaining alpha status is necessary to beat away the competition and a prerequisite to getting within wooing distance of the scarce women.

Throughout history, whole societies that seemed stable have imploded when self-righteous narcissists, enflamed by insane ideologies, so threatened the larger population of the sane that soon everyone feared to stand against the violence, whereupon madness accelerated. No one seemed to remember the lessons of history—or cared to learn them. Perhaps we would persevere through this current darkness. But the very fact of it argued for a second order of pulled-pork sliders—which Darlene now brought to table—and, if time permitted, the richest dessert on the menu, just in case it would be our last.

There are food stations around the room, each representing one of the main characters. The Black Widow station is all Russian themed, with a carved ice sculpture that delivers vodka into molded ice shot glasses, buckwheat blini with smoked salmon and caviar, borsht bite skewers, minipita sandwiches filled with grilled Russian sausages, onion salad, and a sour cream sauce. The Captain America station is, naturally, all-American, with cheeseburger sliders, miniwaffles topped with a fried chicken tender and drizzled with Tabasco honey butter, paper cones of French fries, mini-Chicago hot dogs, a mac 'n' cheese bar, and pickled watermelon skewers. The Hulk station is all about duality and green. Green and white tortellini, one filled with cheese, the other with spicy sausage, skewered with artichoke hearts with a brilliant green pesto for dipping. Flatbreads cooked with olive oil and herbs and Parmesan, topped with an arugula salad in a lemon vinaigrette. Mini-espresso cups filled with hot sweet pea soup topped with cold sour cream and chervil. And the dessert buffet is inspired by Loki, the villain of the piece, and Norse god of mischief. There are plenty of dessert options, many of the usual suspects, mini-creme brûlée, eight different cookies, small tarts. But here and there are mischievous and whimsical touches. Rice Krispies treats sprinkled with Pop Rocks for a shocking dining experience. One-bite brownies that have a molten chocolate center that explodes in the mouth. Rice pudding "sushi" topped with Swedish Fish.

Then the guy in the yard opened the slider and stepped inside, and the back of Reacher’s brain showed him the whole chess game right there, laid out, obvious, like flashing neon arrows, in immense and grotesque detail, the snap pivot left and the round into the meat of the yard guy’s chest, where it was less likely than a head shot to go through-and-through, which was good, given a neighborhood behind them full of wooden fences, but where it was more likely to soak the Lair family with thick pink mist, from behind, hair and all, which wasn’t good, because it would be traumatic, especially during such a week, except on reflection Reacher figured the week was already pretty much a disaster from that exact point onward, given that the chess game said there would be a dead guy at that very moment sliding to the floor of their private house, even as the homeowner-owned Python was snapping right again for two rounds at where the silhouette of the shoulder had been, which two rounds might or might not hit anything, but which would give a second’s cover for the scramble around the sofa and the capture of the dead guy’s Ruger, for a total of three rounds expended and fifteen gained.

Damian smirks. “Why don’t you tell him what we were discussing, Keats? Peyton and I are going to kayak for a bit.” When Peyton walks out of the house, Damian jumps up, kisses her in greeting, then grabs her hand and pulls her toward the boat.   Aiden puts his smoothie glass against mine. “This is really good. So, what were you talking about?” “Seeing a, um, penis for the first time.” “Is it an embarrassing story?” “No, I just . . . it’s just hard to comprehend the mechanics of sex when you’re young and you see it in its, um, natural state.” “Natural state? Like, out in the wild?” “No, not in the wild. I saw a boy’s—” I wave my hand slowly across my body. “— in its natural state.” “As opposed to its unnatural state?” “Its, um, softer state,” I finally say, trying not to think about how his felt in my hand. How I wanted to rip those sliders off his body. Touch it. Feel it. Taste it.   He leans in. “You’re thinking about last night right now, aren’t you?” I feel my cheeks turn red. Why am I such a prude about sex when it comes to Aiden? You’d think I’d never done it before. “I, uh . . .” Aiden arches an eyebrow at me. “Maybe tonight you can see it in its, uh, unnatural state,” he says with a laugh as he kisses my cheek.

The menu is spectacular. Passed hors d'oeuvres include caramelized shallot tartlets topped with Gorgonzola, cubes of crispy pork belly skewered with fresh fig, espresso cups of chilled corn soup topped with spicy popcorn, mini arepas filled with rare skirt steak and chimichurri and pickle onions, and prawn dumplings with a mango serrano salsa. There is a raw bar set up with three kinds of oysters, and a raclette station where we have a whole wheel of the nutty cheese being melted to order, with baby potatoes, chunks of garlic sausage, spears of fresh fennel, lightly pickled Brussels sprouts, and hunks of sourdough bread to pour it over. When we head up for dinner, we will start with a classic Dover sole amandine with a featherlight spinach flan, followed by a choice of seared veal chops or duck breast, both served with creamy polenta, roasted mushrooms, and lacinato kale. Next is a light salad of butter lettuce with a sharp lemon Dijon vinaigrette, then a cheese course with each table receiving a platter of five cheeses with dried fruits and nuts and three kinds of bread, followed by the panna cottas. Then the cake, and coffee and sweets. And at midnight, chorizo tamales served with scrambled eggs, waffle sticks with chicken fingers and spicy maple butter, candied bacon strips, sausage biscuit sandwiches, and vanilla Greek yogurt parfaits with granola and berries on the "breakfast" buffet, plus cheeseburger sliders, mini Chicago hot dogs, little Chinese take-out containers of pork fried rice and spicy sesame noodles, a macaroni-and-cheese bar, and little stuffed pizzas on the "snack food" buffet. There will also be tiny four-ounce milk bottles filled with either vanilla malted milk shakes, root beer floats made with hard root beer, Bloody Marys, or mimosas.

...he was a sensitive person underneath it all. Yes he could believe that, SLider thought. Only a man obsessed with hie own emotions could spread so much devastation around him.

John’s bulk hampered his attempt to reach the sliders before the enormous jaws of the beast clamped on his right ankle and snapped it in a single bite like a dry twig. The humongous doglike thing the size of a small pony went immediately for Broadback’s neck and ripped his throat out. Martha stood behind the glass but couldn’t bear to watch the savage attack

slider until you reach the desired setting. Tap anywhere

Back: Tap to retrace your steps. For example, you can follow a link from a book, then tap the Back button to return to your place in the book. Screen Light: Tap to access screen light controls. There are several ways to adjust screen brightness: Drag your finger along the slider until you reach the desired setting. Tap anywhere on the slider to select a specific setting. Tap the + sign to use a higher light setting, and tap the - sign to use a lower light setting. Press and hold the + sign to select the standard maximum brightness setting. Tap the Max. button to temporarily increase the screen brightness even further. Press the - sign to decrease the brightness setting. Press and hold the - sign to choose the minimum brightness setting.

Snart følte jeg mig nedslidt og meget ældre end min alder. Bekymringer, gråd og opgaver. Savn, smerte og tvivl. Det slider. Når jeg ser mig i spejlet, ser jeg Thomas' fravær som et forfald i mit ansigt. Og jeg har ikke lyst til at se den forandring, men som med haven kan jeg lære mig selv, at forandring er liv. De døde stiver og bliver stående i deres tid, de levende forandrer sig og ældes.

He had nothing against cherry tomatoes except that any attempt to cut them shot them off the plate with a velocity that could lay out a gemsbok at fifty paces, and putting them in the mouth whole and biting down was a not entirely pleasant experience that could result in doing the nose trick with tomato seeds.

Joanna had the fisherman's pie. 'What's under the mashed potato?' Slider asked. Joanna chewed thoughtfully for a moment and then looked down. 'Something white,' she said at last. 'With little bits of something pink.' She chewed again. 'I am eating, aren't I?' she appealed for reassurance. 'It's so hard to tell without some sensory input, like taste or texture.

When Justin had that birdie putt, then I had that slider for par, that’s when I really felt like it could get out of my hands if I’m not careful,’ said Spieth. ‘At that point, I was with my putter. I didn’t care what it looked like, didn’t care about my posture, didn’t care about the mechanics. It was all feel-based. I was seeing the line. I was seeing the arc of the putt. It had been the same thing on 15, and I was just going with it.

Peer reviewers were then asked to rate (using a slider on the screen) how well they knew that particular project and how large the individual’s impact was, and to add any comments. Over

Lean Change Management moves the slider for managing change from using plan-driven aproaches to feedback-driven aproaches

Blue razors, bulls, bronzes, green lilies, orange blazes, crimson dynamos, ivory sliders, yellow streaks, fire bites, grey scalers, and dozens of other colors attacked from all directions. It was an onslaught. They had the giants on the run.

Then he notices, he’s a he again. Why not. Gender is just a slider.

The feast is family-style, of course. Every six-person section of the table has its own set of identical dishes: garlicky roasted chicken with potatoes, a platter of fat sausages and peppers, rigatoni with a spicy meat sauce, linguine al olio, braised broccoli rabe, and shrimp scampi. This is on top of the endless parade of appetizers that everyone has been wolfing down all afternoon: antipasto platters piled with cheeses and charcuterie, fried arancini, hot spinach and artichoke dip, meatball sliders. I can't begin to know how anyone will touch the insane dessert buffet... I counted twelve different types of cookies, freshly stuffed cannoli, zeppole, pizzelles, a huge vat of tiramisu, and my favorite, Teresa's mom's lobster tails, sort of a crispy, zillion-layered pastry cone filled with chocolate custard and whipped cream.

Gus was just about finished with the chutney for the salmon cakes when Carmen leaned in. "Let's experiment," she whispered, as Porter cued them back on air. "Gus and I were just talking and we've decided to mix it up a bit," Carmen said to the camera while Gus used all her energies to prevent a scowl from forming. With a flick of the wrist, Carmen had ramped up the seasonings- a little more cilantro, some cayenne, and finally a touch of mint- and then put a clean spoon in to taste. But instead of bringing it to her mouth, she held it out to Gus. "Mmmm," said Gus, in a practiced voice, not actually paying attention. Tasting the food, after all, was the money shot in the world of food television. Then she actually felt the flavors hit her tongue: the heat of the cayenne, the fresh bite of the mint. "This is divine," she exclaimed spontaneously. And, like a stampede of seven-year-olds waiting for goodies at a birthday party, Troy, Aimee, and Sabrina rushed over immediately. "Let me try!" "Oh, this is delicious!" "I chopped the fruit that went into this, you know. I did it." Although the plating was a little- okay, a lot- sloppy, the group had set out a buffet of salmon cakes, fries, and Kobe beef sliders on toasty rolls by the end of the program.

The wallpaper was aggressively patterned, as was the carpet: together they gave the same effect as when you rub your eyes too hard with the heels of your hands. Ch. 7

mum always ought to be, getting tea. Women and food: how they locked on to your heart, taking it so young that if you had ever been properly loved and nurtured, you could never quite untangle them again. And did you ever, ever get over losing your mum? It seemed absurd after so long, and at his age, to be seized with such a yearning to go home; but she was gone, beyond reach, and a grown man wasn’t allowed to feel like this. The

Karish wander over to the wall and poke around the shelves. He came up with a deck of cards. “Want to cheat at slider?” I didn’t bother to protest the accusation. No need to get too predictable. “Can you afford to fall any further into debt? You already owe me your first six born.” “I guess I’ll have to figure out some way to work it off.” He winked. I rolled my eyes.

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The red eared slider, native from Illinois

Crafty Collins took up with him. You wouldn’t have thought they had a thing in common. I mean, Crafty, he had enough upstairs. He wasn’t stupid by many a long mile. But this Bates bloke, he was college educated and everything. Smart as a whip. Well, he

sense that, and did not ask. Instead he inclined his head toward the daycare center and said, “It’s kind of sad if you think about it. They should be spending their weekends with their parents.” It was a much more sensitive comment than she would have expected from him, Cassi thought. Perhaps there was a heart beneath Stuart Slider’s dark veneer. As she contemplated that unexpected twist, he refilled their champagne flutes. “Speaking of morning tea,” she said,

Don’t know if you have any hobbies.” She nodded. “I do. I may have to take a break from it for a bit while I’m out here, but normally when I have a light day on campus, I go to a class . . .” I waited. “It’s . . . pole dancing.” I stopped breathing, but at least I didn’t choke. Nodding, I took a sip of my wine to block my face, which I was pretty sure had turned the shade of a beet. “So, like Flashdance? Welder by day, dancer by night?” I barked out, feeling a stirring in my pants that was wholly inappropriate for my roomie, who’d been talking about diode lasers a minute earlier. She’s a goddamn pole dancer. She chuckled and crossed her arms over her chest as though trying to keep me from picturing her dancing. “Excellent movie reference. But no, that’s not even close to what I do.” It hardly mattered. My brain was stuck. Like a white-hot strobe had blinded me to everything except Sarah wearing lingerie and grinding on a pole under hot lights. For me. Stop picturing it. Fuck! “Cool,” I finally managed to say with a straight face. Like it meant nothing. She nodded. Like it meant nothing. Then she spread some brie cheese on a cracker and took a bite. I choked out an excuse and went to the bathroom to get a grip. This will be okay. It will. It has to be. In the bathroom, I splashed some cold water on my face and took a hard look at myself in the mirror. What was happening? I hadn’t been this jacked up over a woman anytime in the past two years. My emotions had been buried in caverns so deep I felt confident they were gone for good. I was fine with that. It made no sense. Or . . . maybe it did. I’ve always been competitive as fuck. If I’m told I can’t have something, I want it all the more and do anything in my power to make it mine. That had to be what was happening here. It was all in my head. I knew she was off limits, so the competitive motherfucker in me started bucking against that. I just needed to get my head together and think of her like any other human who happened to be using my second bedroom. When I got back to the table, Sarah looked up at me with a thin slice of Parma ham twirled around her fork and put the bit into her mouth. I had no defensible reason to focus on her lips or the soft contour of her jaw while she chewed. She swallowed and smiled at me. “I figured I should get a head start on eating while you were gone. In case you had more questions.” “Good plan. Maybe we should focus on the food for a few minutes, or we could be here all night.” I bit into a slider and closed my eyes at how delicious the slow-roasted meat tasted on the brioche bun. Who needed to cook when someone else could make food that tasted like this? It was how I’d become addicted to takeout and why I rarely ate at home anymore. That, and I spent a lot of time at work. Sarah finished the last of the cheesy bread and wiped her lips gingerly on a napkin before looking right at me with those gorgeous eyes. “This is weird, right? It’s not just me?” I tilted my head, trying to read her expression and decipher her meaning. “Could you be specific? She waved her hands between us. “This. Us. We’re in our thirties and we’re roommates. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t had a roommate for about ten years. Does it freak you out a little bit?” Yes, but not for the reasons she meant.

Well, our Surf and Turf Burger is real good." I pointed to it on the menu. "It's a ground sirloin burger stuffed with seasoned blue crabmeat served on grilled ciabatta bread, or you can get them as sliders. Some people prefer the smaller burgers, easier to manage." "Sliders sound great!" He handed me the menu after I scribbled it down on Betsy's pad. "You want fries, onion rings, or french-fried pickles?

sliders. Now, how’s the salad looking?

Sliders (1995) —The science fiction series Sliders is a more direct example of navigating a quantum multiverse. In Sliders, wormholes are used to visit other universes, each of which deviates in some way from our own, many with different versions of the main characters. How do they develop the wormhole? Quinn, the main character, is shown how by a different, parallel version of himself, a theme we will see repeating in other multiverse stories.

Chinese barbecue pulled pork sliders,

Why mobile app hosting is fundamental for your versatile application? Portable application hosting is fundamental for your site? Also, why it is compulsory to work? To lay it out plainly, you have constructed a versatile application. What would be the best next step? Fostering an application isn't generally so direct as tossing it in the air; it needs a spot to live, or all the more precisely, a hosting supplier. It's better assuming it's done on an outside server since your gadget won't deal with the power. An application that crashes each time won't acquire large number of clients, which youthful new businesses need. Versatile app hosting services is fundamental, with a powerful server is the best arrangement. We'll take a gander at how portable applications create and why composing code isn't the entire story. How would you foster a portable application? It's more convoluted than you likely suspect. It comprises of two sections. Utilizing a telephone or tablet, the client can explore the application's front end by clicking buttons and moving sliders. The server-side, nonetheless, should be answerable for showing buttons and sliders. When you click on the button, a data demand is shipped off the server. Subsequent to handling, you will figure out the outcomes. You ought to have another screen stacked in practically no time, so you will not lose significant clients pausing. Is it important to have a versatile application? Versatile application improvement requires something other than composing code. The client's gadget will clearly contain the whole backend if the application resembles a mini-computer with just rudimentary capacities. Notwithstanding, a backend should exist that offers more complicated capacities, and something should empower solicitations to be satisfied there. In this manner, App Hosting is fundamental. It alludes to introducing an application on the server of a supplier, like Amazon Web Services (AWS) or Google Cloud Platform (GCP). These suppliers put the application on their servers. There are basically no distinctions between Mobile App Hosting and hosting sites. In like manner, the versatile application hosting server processes a solicitation sent by the client. The client makes a move or sends a solicitation. So what precisely is Code Push? It would assist with fixing bugs when they happen toward the front. In AppStore and Google Play, an update requires an audit each time it is made. The interaction requires 30 minutes for Android and could take more time to a day for iOS. You can robotize this and pass the survey by transferring updates to Code Push. Designers can without much of a stretch update their React Native applications utilizing the App Center. Applications can demand refreshes utilizing the gave client SDK from the focal vault, which is a focal store for refreshes. Mechanizing refreshes permits us to fix blunders quicker, setting aside us time and cash. How do these administrations vary? Cloud hosting is one model. It's something we've utilized ourselves first. Then, at that point, on the grounds that a ton of organizations use it, Whence comes this? Rather than regular hosting, cloud hosting utilizes only one server rather than different servers. A virtual and actual organization of cloud servers has the application or site. How much is portable application hosting fundamental in the cloud? Reliability You would lose your item assuming something happened to the server it was facilitated. Another situation includes many machines that are associated. Information will stay on the organization regardless of whether it vanishes from one server. Efficiencies Dissimilar to a normal server, cloud hosting can increment framework assets. This is on the grounds that the server's ability should be expanded assuming the quantity of clients increments abruptly. Assuming you utilize a devoted server, the cycle is more adaptable.

Watching McGraw go through his repertoire of pitches, observing his seriousness and diligence, I understood that my cousin was more than a budding major leaguer. He was a dedicated craftsman, and the rewards he’d gained from hard work went far beyond mastering a slider and a change. He’d mastered himself. He didn’t work hard merely because he was talented, but because he knew that hard work was the right path for a man, the only path. He wasn’t paralyzed, as I was, by the fear of making a mistake. When he bounced a pitch in front of me, or threw it over my head, he didn’t care. He was experimenting, exploring, finding himself, and finding his way by trial and error to a kind of truth. No matter how foolish he looked on a pitch, no matter how badly he missed the target, with the next pitch he was focused, confident, relaxed

Sometimes the kitchen would bring out large plates piled high with fries or grilled cheese cut into tiny pieces. If Frank, the line cook, was working and in a good mood (which usually meant he was stoned), he'd sometimes repurpose the specials into amazing creations---leftover short ribs stuffed into tortillas or mini turkey sliders with cranberry sauce.

You do know scones are not donuts, right?" Nina wasn't one to pass up any baked goods, but a donut was a donut. No scone would do. "This is not your white, British-royals high tea, my friend. This is Highland Park high tea. It opened a month ago, and I think we're about to have our whole world rocked." The Jam's exterior was black-and-white---- if you blinked you'd miss it. But when they went inside Nina immediately spotted a colorful mural of dinosaurs seated on velvet cushions, eating donuts and drinking out of porcelain cups. A pristine glass display case on the opposite wall featured rows and rows of endless donuts--- a happy welcoming committee of frosting and dough. "We'll be having tea for two," Jasmine said at the counter. "And for my donut, could I get the Swirly Rosewater, please?" As soon as she saw the names and flavors of the donuts, she instantly knew two things: one, she was going to love these, and two, Leo would absolutely hate them. Nina suddenly felt sympathy for Leo any time a contestant created a unique flavor pairing on the show. She raced to find the donut her friend had ordered in the case, and landed on a frosted pink cake donut that had a lemon rosewater glaze topped with roasted pistachios. "You live your life in pink, Jas." "No better color. So from what I read online, the deal is that instead of scones, they do vegan donuts---" Nina's eyes narrowed, and Jasmine glared right back. "Don't judge. What are you going to get?" "I need chocolate," Nina said. She scanned the rows in search of the perfect solution. "May I recommend our Chocolate from the Crypt donut?" the saleswoman suggested from behind the display. Her sharp bangs and blunt ponytail bobbed as she explained, "It's our fall-themed donut--- chocolate cake with a chocolate glaze, and it's got a kick from the cayenne pepper and cinnamon we add in." "Oh, my donut," Nina said. In the case was an absolutely gorgeous chocolate confection--- the cayenne and cinnamon flakes on the outside created a black-and-orange effect. "I am sold." "You got it." The saleswoman nodded and rang them up. A narrow hallway covered in murals of cartoon animals drinking tea led them to the official tearoom. Soaring ceilings revealed exposed beams and brick walls, signaling that the building was likely older and newly restored. Modern, barrel-back walnut chairs were clustered around ultrasleek Scandinavian round tables. Nina felt like she'd followed Jasmine down a rabbit hole and emerged into the modern interpretation of the Mad Hatter's tea party. "This is like..." Nina began. "It's a fun aesthetic." "I know, right?" Jasmine replied as they sat down. "It makes me feel like I'm not cool enough to be here, but glad I got invited." Nina picked up the prix fixe high tea menu on the table. The Jam's version of finger sandwiches were crispy "chicken" sliders, potato-hash tacos and mini banh mi, and in lieu of scones, they offered cornbread with raspberry jam and their signature donuts. "And it's all vegan...?" "Yes, my friendly carnivore, and hopefully delicious.

I tried my best to hold on to their faces—Georgia’s, and Mama’s, and Daddy’s. But memories are stubborn little things, like red-eared sliders that won’t come out of their shells once you start poking around for them to peek out. And no matter how hard I tried to remember, I could feel them slipping away.

pie Week 2 DAYS/ MEALS DAY 1 DAY 2 DAY 3 DAY 4 DAY 5 DAY 6 DAY 7 BREAK- -FAST Banana-Amarnath Porridge Coconut-Almond Risotto Breakfast Tofu Scramble Beet Greens Smoothie Pear Oats with walnuts Breakfast Tofu Scramble Beet Greens Smoothie SNACK Classic Hummus Roasted Corn with poblano-cilantro butter Mushroom bun sliders Roasted Cauliflower Hummus Puffed Rice Balls Latkes Red cabbage with apples and pecans LUNCH Tofu Stir-Fry Zucchini and Avocado Salad with garlic herb dressing Tofu summer rolls Quinoa Vegetable salad Tamale Casserole Autumn Wheat Berry Salad Moroccan Lasagna SNACK An apple Easy garlic roasted potatoes Stuffed mushroom One ounce of water Latkes An orange Classic Hummus DINNER Curried Rice Salad Grilled tofu Caprese Clean Vegan Pad Thai Seitan Satay Warm rice and Bean Salad Mushroom Lasagna Spicy Asian Quinoa Salad

At six, Daisy slid the stuffed figs and the pastry-wrapped goat cheese purses into the oven, crammed her feet into a pair of navy-blue high heels, and put a giant straw hat with a navy-blue ribbon on her head. The theme of the party was the Kentucky Derby, even though the Derby itself wasn't until May. At least it had made the menu easy: mint julep punch and bourbon slushies, fried chicken sliders served on biscuits, with hot honey, tea sandwiches with Benedictine spread, bite-sized hot browns, the signature sandwich of Louisville, and miniature Derby pies for dessert.

There were mini Vienna hot dogs with all the classic Chicago toppings. A macaroni 'n' cheese bar with all kinds of fun add-ins. Cold sesame noodles in tiny white cardboard Chinese take-out containers, sliders served with small cones of skinny fries. Fried chicken legs, barbecued ribs, mini gyros in tiny three-inch pitas. All of it the most delicious and perfectly prepared elevated junk food, complete heaven, and just what I love. She gave us each a bamboo tray with a piece of parchment paper on it to use as plates, and large kitchen tea towels instead of napkins. There were cold beers in a tub, endless bottles of rosé, and a massive birthday cake, chocolate with fluffy vanilla frosting, and rainbow sprinkles. And then, after coffee, mini ice-cream sandwiches on chocolate chip cookies.

Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu" is the longest name of a place on Earth. It translates roughly as "The summit where Tamatea, the man with the big knees, the slider, climber of mountains, the land-swallower who travelled about, played his nose flute to his loved one".

Swagger your stuff in style when you stroll down in our Stoners Delight Men's All Over Printed Boxers. Pair these Boxers with a strong Tee and comfortable sliders for an easy look.

At the state park, they hiked up to a meadow covered with soft grass and golden poppies. Jerome spread out a blanket, and they lazed in the sunshine and had their lunch. The sliders and sheet cake were a hit, as she had known they would be. The sandwiches had been a food truck staple---thin slices of house-cured pastrami, garlic dill kraut, Swiss cheese, and Russian dressing, the rolls slathered with herb butter and crunchy seeds and salt.

most of the lights had been turned off or dimmed. She shut the slider behind them and pointed toward an

But one person had stayed quiet ever since Alisha’s wedding, the person whose blessing she wanted most, and he was sitting across from her, leaning back in his chair like he wanted to put some distance between himself and the platter of tempeh barbecue sliders. “Vegetarian barbecue?” Pops made it sound like blasphemy. She grinned. Silence was damning, but pushback she could handle. “Yep. I want to make sure there’s something for everyone here. And expanding our options makes sense from a business standpoint. If we’re getting more out-of-town customers, we need to offer dishes to suit a variety of dietary needs and preferences.” She nudged the plate toward him. “C’mon, I bet you’ll love it.” He picked up a slider and took a bite, then went back for another with a murmur of appreciation. “That’s actually tasty,” he admitted. “But why’d you go and make new buns? We’ve already got rolls on the menu.” “Yeah, but these are gluten-free.” “Quit lying.” He twisted the roll around, scrutinizing it like he was trying to ascertain its chemical makeup, then took another bite and chewed, brow creased in thought. “Vegetarian options I guess I can get used to, even though we used to have a pig on the sign,” he said, and chuckled.

All of the Kobe beef sold in this country, by chefs famous and anonymous, in ten-dollar sliders or three-hundred-dollar steaks, was fake, all of it, end of story.

Alice and I have photographed and eaten jerk chicken over plantains, spicy and sweet; cups of icy, sweet, rich halo-halo piled with red beans and fruit cocktail; lobster roll sliders stuffed full of delicate shellfish on buttery brioche; pani puri, the fried Indian hollow rounds of dough loaded up with mashed potato and chickpeas and sweet, tangy tamarind chutney. My camera was happy. I was happy.

Tap to return to the Home screen, where you'll find a list of books and other content stored on your Kindle. Back: Tap to retrace your steps. For example, you can follow a link from a book, then tap the Back button to return to your place in the book. Screen Light: Tap to access screen light controls. There are several ways to adjust screen brightness: Drag your finger along the slider until you reach the desired setting. Tap anywhere on the slider to select a specific setting. Tap the + sign to use a higher light setting, and tap the - sign to use a lower light setting. Press and hold the + sign to select the standard maximum brightness setting. Tap the Max. button to temporarily increase the screen brightness even further. Press the - sign to decrease the brightness setting. Press and hold the - sign to choose the minimum brightness setting. Kindle Store: Tap to go to the Kindle Store. Your Kindle must have an active Wi-Fi or 3G connection to use this feature. Search: Tap to bring up the search field. To exit search, tap the X on the right side of the search bar. Goodreads on Kindle: Tap to connect to the Goodreads community on your Kindle to see what your friends are reading, find book recommendations and keep track of what you’ve read and want to read. For more information, see Goodreads

Makes me want to tweak reality’s gamma slider.

All of the Kobe beef sold in this country, by chefs famous and anonymous, in ten-dollar sliders or three-hundred-dollar steaks, was fake, all of it, end of story. Every single restaurant and store purporting to sell Kobe beef—or any Japanese beef—was lying, including some of the country’s best-known chefs.

leading the way was his boss, Commander ‘Dave’ Carpenter, in a suit so sharp you could peel mangoes with it.

said.

I watched the road as the sun fell lower in the sky, and the vampire god beside me nobly scarfed down a slider.

Kai enlisted the help of some culinary students for prep work and serving, and pulled out all the stops for this party, skipping the sit-down dinner in favor of endless little nibbles, sort of like tapas or a wonderful tasting menu. Champagne laced with Pineau des Charentes, a light cognac with hints of apple that essentially puts a velvet smoking jacket around the dry sparkling wine. Perfect scallops, crispy on the outside, succulent and sweet within, with a vanilla aioli. Tiny two-bite Kobe sliders on little pretzel rolls with caramelized onions, horseradish cream, and melted fontina. Seared tuna in a spicy soy glaze, ingenious one-bite caprese salads made by hollowing out cherry tomatoes, dropping some olive oil and balsamic vinegar inside, and stuffing with a mozzarella ball wrapped in fresh basil. Espresso cups of chunky roasted tomato soup with grilled cheese croutons. The food is delicious and never-ending, supplemented with little bowls of nuts, olives, raw veggies, and homemade potato chips with lemon and rosemary.

The neighbor’s dog burst into frenzied barking. Devon jumped so hard, she clutched the door. Toby was a big dog with a loud bark. He sounded right outside the window, crazy loud snarling barks like he wanted to tear something apart. The barking stopped. Devon heard a car, and a faraway truck, and birds. Then a creak from the front of the house. Her heart slammed. Devon couldn’t tell if the sound came from inside the house, or out. It could have been the wind. It might be Toby. Thump. Devon peeked up the hall. The hall was empty, but her heart beat a vicious patter, and she wanted to run. Thump. Creak. She ducked into the office, but stayed at the door. Listening. Straining to hear. Inside or out, she still couldn’t tell. Stop! You’re imagining things! Maybe from the dining room, a noise from outside coming through the open slider. Her phone buzzed, startling her as much as the barking. Devon had forgotten her phone. She saw Cole’s name, and covered her mouth.

There’s a whole neurodiversity contingent who hate my ideas of sliders, and want to preserve our incapacity to ‘make up your mind and stick to it’ in case there’s some hypothetical species-destroying crossroads in the future where we need to rescue it. I say, you keep your irrationality intact. I’ll switch mine off. Other people can make up their own minds. Because the inability to see reason is a species-destroying crossroads and we’re at it now. If we don’t figure out how to put off gratification today for survival tomorrow, to beat the solipsist’s delusion that you’re a special snowflake—” “Okay, I know how this goes.” “I know you do.

Ron Darling, a poised, impressive figure on the mound, alternated his popping fastballs with just enough down-breaking sliders and an occasional curveball to keep the St. John’s batters unhappy.

The old attitude could also show itself in defeat, as when Eckersley refused to flinch from the fury of reporters’ questions in the clubhouse after he gave up The Home Run to Kirk Gibson in the 1988 World Series against the Dodgers on that fateful back-door slider that went through the front door instead.

When you’re a kid,” he said, “time lasts forever. You’re immortal. When your grandparents die, it’s not real. Not yet. Then your parents go, and … well, it’s like there’s no more insurance. You’re next in line. You’re that guy!” He laughed. “The last one standing. The one everyone wants to make sure to see at Christmas, because you never know. You never know. I can see them grieving me even while I’m still here. And there’s a comfort in that. A love. So maybe that’s what you’re giving your father by being here. Even if he doesn’t know it in his brain, he knows it in his cells.” Her throat was dry, and her eyes burned. She folded her hands, staring down at the ridgeline of her knuckles. The man said, “What?” She cleared her throat. “The mourning, it sucks, yeah, but no one tells you…” He kept his gaze steady on her. She forced out the words. “No one tells you how hard it is not to get resentful.” “Accept it,” he said. “If you accept life, you accept all its rich, awful complexities. Because if you think about it, what’s the alternative?” She thought of pork-belly sliders and dude-bros thumbing their phones over dinner and the sweet bullshit promise of demo-targeted advertising. She took the man’s hand, skin draped over bone. “Thank you.