Greatest Hits D R I Album.rar
Depending on its internal organisation it is prone to dammage if it organizes file positions in a FATxx (file allocation table) manner which is prone to direct hits like the reactor trench in Star Wars I or much better like in NTFS (cluster lists in individual MFT entries).
Greatest Hits D R I Album.rar
Now rite thar, boys, he over-did the thing, ef actinhoss tu the scribe wer what he wer arter; fur thars narahoss ever foaldid durned fool enuf tu lope over enysich place; a cussed muel mout a dun hit, but dadwarn't actin muel, tho' he orter tuck that karacter; hitsadzactly sooted tu his dispersition, all but not breedin.I crept up to the aidge, an' peep'd over. Thar werdad's bald hed fur all the yeath like a peeled inyin, abobbin up an' down an' aroun, an' the ho'nets sailinroun tuckey buzzard fashun, an' every onst in awhile one, an' sum times ten, wud take a dip at dad'sbald head. He kep' up a rite peart dodgin onder, sumtimesafore they hit im, an' sumtimes arterard, an' thewarter wer kivered wif drownded ball ho'nets. Tulook at hit frum the top ove the bluff, hit wer pow'fulinturestin, an' sorter funny; I wer on the bluff myse'f,mine yu.
I sot in tu bildin ove a ash-hopper fur Betts, an'work'd pow'ful hard, sweat like a hoss, an' then theshut quit hits hurtin, an' tuck tu feelin slippery.Thinks I, that's sorter lawyer like enyhow, an' I wer hopeup bout the shut, an' what mout cum outen hit.
The durn'd ole clock, hit got exhited too, an' los'control ove hits sef, an' furgot to stop, but jis scizzedan' whang'd away strait along, an' the mar a hearin hitall, an' a b'levin the soun' tu be cumin nigher tu herinards every pop. She thort, too, that four hundredblack an' tan houn' dorgs wer cumpassin her etarnalruin.
I now thot hit ni ontu the proper time tu tetch thecrackers, so es tu hev everything bar hits shar in thekontemplated cummin waknin. An' I did hit. Thefust handful ur so gwine off help'd, wif the industry ovethat energetic ole rat, the sarchin ove the red pepper, an'the permiskus scratchin roun ove the bugs, tu begin tuwake him sorter gradully, a littil faster nor light breadrises, an' a littil slower then a yeathquake wakes-weazels.A few hundred more gwine off, still hevin therat, pepper, an' insex tu back em, got him wide enufawake tu bleve that he wer threatened wif sum orfulpussonal calamerty, what wanted pow'ful quick workon his part tu dodge. He wer awake now all overeven to his durnd ole hat, an' he show'd hit in es menyways es a cat dus, lock'd up in a empty room wif astrange an' interprisin big dorg.
Now, George, ef yu knows the nater ove a cowbrute, they is the durndes' fools amung all the beastes,('scept the Lovingoods;) when they gits intu tribulashun,they knows muffin but tu shot thar eyes, beller,an' back, an' keep a-backin. Well, when ole Sockraised his head an' foun hissef in darkness, he jis'twisted up his tail, snorted the shatter'd co'n outen thebaskit, an' made a tremenjus lunge agin the hous'. Ihearn the picters a-hangin agin the wall on the insidea-fallin. He fotch a deep loud rusty beller, mout beenhearn a mile, an' then sot intu a onendin sistem ovebackin. A big craw-fish wif a hungry coon a-reachinfur him, wer jis' nowhar. Fust agin one thing, thenover anuther, an' at las' agin the bee-bainch, knockinhit an' a dozen stan ove bees heads over heels, an' thenstompin back'ards thru the mess. Hit haint much wufwhile tu tell what the bees did, ur how soon they sotintu duin hit. They am pow'ful quick-tempered littilcritters, enyhow. The air wer dark wif 'em, an' Sockwer kivered all over, frum snout tu tail, so clost yucudent a-sot down a grain ove wheat fur bees, an' theywer a-fitin one anuther in the air, fur a place on thebull. The hous' stood on sidelin groun, an' the backdoor wer even wif hit. So Sock happen tu hit hitplum, jis' backed intu the hous' onder 'bout two hundredan' fifty pouns ove steam, bawlin orful, an' everysnort he fotch he snorted away a quart ove bees ofenhis sweaty snout. He wer the leader ove the bigges'an' the madest army ove bees in the worild. Thar werat leas' five solid bushels ove 'em. They hed filled thebaskit, an' hed lodged ontu his tail, ten deep, ontil hitwer es thick es a waggin tung. He hed hit stuck straitup in the air, an' hit looked adzackly like a dead pinekivered wif ivey. I think he wer the hottes' and wushurtin bull then livin; his temper, too, seemed tu bepow'fully flustrated. Ove all the durn'd times an' kerryinson yu ever hearn tell on wer thar an' thar abouts.He cum tail fust agin the ole two story Dutch clock, an'fotch hit, bustin hits runnin geer outen hit, the littilwheels a-trundlin over the floor, an' the bees evenchasin them. Nex pass, he fotch up agin the foot ovea big dubbil injine bedstead, rarin hit on aind, an'punchin one ove the posts thru a glass winder. Thenex tail fus' experdishun wer made aginst the caticorner'dcupboard, outen which he made a perfeckmomox. Fus' he upsot hit, smashin in the glass doors,an' then jis' sot in an' stomp'd everything on the shelvesintu giblits, a-tryin tu back furder in that direckshun,an' tu git the bees ofen his laigs.
Now the ticklin into his flanks, the chokin roun'his naik, an' the steel trap sprung ontu his tail, did discumfort'im pow'ful. He jis' mizzild. Every fewjumps, he'd giv a hurried hurtin short beller, an' kickbof heels es hi es he cud; but ole Burns wer thar, stillthar. By golly, golly, he wer grow'd thar. He struckthe river at a pint whar the bluff wer sixty feet high,abuv warter thuty foot deep. Durn'd ef ever he tho'teven ove measurin hit, but jis' loped over head down,an' ove course the ole man wer gwine tail down. Jis'es soon es he seed the warter onder 'im, quick es a catagin, he sot in tu climbin the tail, overhandid; but hitwarn't eny use, George, fur they bof went outen site,jis' bustin the river plum open. The las' part gwineonder wer one ove Burns's hans a-huntin roun' furmore tail tu climb. I never seed sich waves in theOconee afore ur since, an' the bluff wer wet tu the top,an' draps ove warter wer fallin off the cedars on hitsbrow.
Ahem ! I takes fur my tex, the fac' that eaves-drappin am a durn'd mean sorter way tu make a livin.Hits es bad es stealin frum blind folks, ur tellin lies onwidders; an' hit hes hits retribushun, a orful wun, an'yu'd all (not scept George thar) say so when I'se dun.
The upstars ove that Court-hous' wer one big rume,plastered over-head wif three quarter plank, an' nofloor ontu the jists in the loft abuv. The masons hedfenced off a lodge in wun corner. The trap-door intuthe lof, wer jis' outside hit, an' a ladder cum downclost by hits side, an' landed jis' a littil short ove thedoor intu the lodge. So yu got tu the lof frum whatwer lef ove the big rume, an' jis' outside the mason den.
Singin that song 'bout the bline bull, minds meove what happen'd tu me at Lynchburg, in ole Firginny.Hits a town chock full ove clever fellers, an' jis' es fewna'tral born durn'd fools as ever yu seed in any town.A ole Dutchman bilt hit, an' sot hit up on hits aidgeto dry. The Injuns chased him clean away, an' thetown stans on hits aidge tu this day. Sumtimes theboys gits ontu a 'tare' ove nites, an' tries tu upset hitontu hits side, but haint never got hit turn'd downyet.
Wun yoke ove steers wif a big sled cum tarin hedsdown, an' tails strait up, rite thru the shed, an' I thinkthey mus hev swep' out ni ontu thuty niggers, big an'littil, an' a few bainches, intu the woods wif em, a-stickinontu thar ho'ns, ontu the yoke, on thar backs, an' onthe stakes ove the sled. Yere cum a big gray hoss,like a streak, draggin a buggy ontu hits side wif thetop up. His eyes wer red, an' his years laid back; hescoop'd up his buggy plum full, an' jis' kep on. I obsarvedPimpil-face tangled up in the runnin gear, an'true tu the suckit rider's instink, he wer climbin powfulfur a inside seat. He run a-pas' a postes what heda ole tin pan atop ove hit full ove rich pine knots aburnin: he scoop'd that in amung his cargo ove niggerstu warm em on thar thorny way, an' then he jis'run by the lite ove hit. Thar went a big grizly muel,wif a side saddiI way back ontu his rump, an' half apeach tree fas' tu his bridil; he gobbled up two urthree littil niggers in the tree-top, an' tuck em outenthe trubbil.
Jis' bout this time I foun' out how that gal gotouten her shiff, fur I seed sumthin dispersin hitssef intuthe woods, an' frum the glimpse I got hit look'd sorterlike a black munkey shaved wif white hine laigs;hit wer that tormented gal in white stockins. Thething wer pufeckly plain, she hed jis' run outen herdress an' shiff at the same time. That's what cumsove bein a plum natral born'd durn fool; yu'd hev onderstood how she got outen hit, without eny studyin at all.
Now I'se only narrated the main pints, an' hitstuck me a good spell. But in three minits an' a 'alfarter I finish'd my 'sistin ove em by pullin them arstrings, hit wer all over scept the swellin, hurtin, an'gittin home. Thar warn't even a dorg lef on thatcampgroun', an' yu cud hear nuffin but the humin ove thehuntin ho'nets, an' the distunt nise ove scatterin niggers,ur uther beastez still gwine furder frum that placeove torment, an' general discumfort.
Well, yu see the ole man Rogers up on Los' Creekwer a-paintin his hous' a-new, an' Hen wer suckilatinroun thar, jis' prospectin fur sperits, an' seed a bottilwif clar truck in hit what he tuck tu be new sperrits,so when the painter's back wer turned, he jis' run hitsnaik down his froat. He fotch hit out wif a onderhandidjerk, flung hit ahine him an' put, sputterin an'yerkin, fur the spring, a-swabbin out his mouf wif hisole wool hat rolled up. Now, boys, hit wer sperrits, but orful tu think ove, hit wer sperrits ove tupentine,fresh frum the rosinny part ove Noth Caliney.
I now turn my 'tenshun tu Mister Seize. I'd got'bout a tin cup full ove litnin bugs, an' cut off the lanternove the las' durn'd one; I smear'd em all over hisface, har an' years, an' ontu the prongs ove a pitch-fork;I sot him up in the corner on aind, an' gin him thefork, prong aind up in his crossed arms. I then priedopen his mouf, an' let his teef shet ontu the back ove alive bull-frog, an' I smeared hits paws an' belly wifsum ove my bug-mixtry, an' pinned a littil live garter-snake by hits middil crosswise in his mouf, smearedlike the frog plum tu the pint ove his tail. The pinkep him pow'ful bizzy makin suckils an' uther crookedshapes in the air. Now, rite thar boys, in that corner,stood the dolefulest skeer makin mersheen, mortal manever seed outen a ghost camp. I tell yu now, I b'levesstrong in ghosts, an' in forewarning too.