KoĹ trojaĹski podsĹuchuje Skype'a

Site Admin Dołączył: 02 Wrz 2006 Posty: 0

Oryginalna treść artykułu: Koń trojański podsłuchuje Skype'a

Firma Symantec poinformowała o wykryciu kodu źródłowego do konia trojańskiego o nazwie Trojan.Peskyspy. Zagrożenie rejestruje rozmowy VoIP prowadzone w programie Skype.

Dołączył: 19 Lis 2009 Posty: 5

“Hey, Jenna, do you think we’ll still be friends when we’re eighty-two?” I stopped bouncing on the trampoline

when I saw a puzzled look on my friend’s face. Boy, did her look say it all! It was clear she was wondering

where in the world I had come up with such a random question. Being such good friends, it had become easy to read

each other’s minds. So, while I waited for Jenna to answer, I started wondering what life would be like without

her.

Definitely not the same, that’s for sure! Losing Jenna would be like losing a very close sister. We hang out

together as often as we can. We laugh together. We cry together. We give each other advice. We even look a little

bit alike. When I spend the night at her house, I feel like part of Jenna’s family. If it weren’t for Jenna, I

don’t know where in my life’s journey I would be, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be here.
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Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted. “Of course, we’ll still be friends when we’re eighty-two,” Jenna

announced loudly. I gave Jenna a friendly stare, and she returned it. We stared at each other until we were

laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face. That moment was one of the most important in our

friendship together and, as you might have guessed, eighty-two was our new magic number. But that’s not where

the story ends.

The next year, in fourth grade, we met Jamie. Jamie had just moved from California, and since she lived in the

same neighborhood as Jenna and me, the three of us soon clicked into a really tight group of friends. We played

together almost every day. We shared our biggest secrets and crushes, and even came up with crazy ideas to make a

little extra cash for the summer. I was happy to have reached out to Jamie as well as getting even closer to my

other good friends. Things couldn’t have been better, and I thought even time couldn’t pull us apart, but that

is where I was sadly mistaken.
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The three of us started fighting a lot—and not just small fights where your friend won’t return a CD you let

her borrow. No, these fights involved hurt feelings, crying, taking sides, nasty e-mails, and mean glares. Before

Christmas, we had a really big fight, and it was just my luck that Jamie and Jenna were ganging up on me, both

saying I was bossy and couldn’t keep my mouth closed. I felt helpless and alone. They wouldn’t even talk to me

at school unless they had some mean insult for me. I had very little hope for the future, and I was almost

positive that Christmas, my birthday, and New Year’s Day would be horrible! Why is this happening to me? I

thought. How can I not even know what I did and have things end up this bad?

That’s why I was surprised when Jenna came to my house and gave me an awesome Christmas card she had made for

me. I was so sure that she was still disappointed with me, and now I was getting a really nice card that she even

made herself. Is time going to prove me wrong once again?
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“Wow,” I said, breaking the silence as we stood on either side of my front door. “Thanks.”

“Okay . . . well . . . I have to go,” she said softly.
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“Okay. See you later then. . . .” and I closed the door and headed back to my mom’s bedroom to finish watching

a movie.

“Who was that at the door?” my mom asked.

“It was Jenna,” I explained, showing her the card. I pressed play on the VCR, but I wasn’t watching the TV

screen. Instead, I was admiring the front of the card, which was decorated with snowmen, snowflakes, and a

perfect image of Santa Claus. After a few minutes of admiring the front, I decided to peek inside.
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The card started off with “Merry Christmas” (what else would you put in a Christmas card?), but then, farther

down the page, it said, “I am so glad we’re friends. I am sorry about what I said when we were fighting. A

fight won’t stop us from being friends. Besides, we said we were going to be friends even when we’re eighty-

two.”

I stopped reading and started laughing. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten what she said that day in her back

yard. I couldn’t believe I had been so selfish in trying to get even and making my friends feel sorry for me

that I had forgotten about real friendship.
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Instead of drifting farther and farther apart, and eventually going our separate ways, like my friendship with

Jamie, Jenna and I held strong, even through the bad times. Jenna ended up being my true friend. Isn’t that what

a true friend is? Someone who chooses to stick with you every day of your life, even when you’re eighty-two.

Friends Forever

Dołączył: 05 Gru 2009 Posty: 5

Father Frost

In a far-away country, somewhere in Russia, there lived a stepmother who had a stepdaughter and also a daughter of her own. Her own daughter was dear to her, and always whatever she did the mother was the first to praise her, to pet her; but there was but little praise for the stepdaughter; although good and kind, she had no other reward than reproach. What on earth could have been done? The wind blows, but stops blowing at times; the wicked woman never knows how to stop her wickedness. One bright cold day the stepmother said to her husband:
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"Now, old man, I want you to take your daughter away from my eyes, away from my ears. You shall not take her to your people into a warm hut. You shall take her into the wide, wide fields to the crackling frost."

The old father grew sad, began even to weep, but nevertheless helped the young girl into the sleigh. He wished to cover her with a sheepskin in order to protect her from the cold; however, he did not do it. He was afraid; his wife was watching them out of the window. And so he went with his lovely daughter into the wide, wide fields; drove her nearly to the woods, left her there alone, and speedily drove away--he was a good man and did not care to see his daughter's death. Following continue. wow gold,

Alone, quite alone, remained the sweet girl. Broken-hearted and terror-stricken she repeated fervently all the prayers she knew.

Father Frost, the almighty sovereign at that place, clad in furs, with a long, long, white beard and a shining crown on his white head, approached nearer and nearer, looked at this beautiful guest of his and asked:

"Dost you know me?--me, the red-nosed Frost?"

"Be welcome, Father Frost," answered gently the young girl. "I hope our heavenly Lord sent you for my sinful soul."

"Are you comfortable, sweet child?" again asked the Frost. He was exceedingly pleased with her looks and mild manners.wedding dress,

"Indeed I am," answered the girl, almost out of breath from cold.

And the Frost, cheerful and bright, kept crackling in the branches until the air became icy, but the good-natured girl kept repeating:

"I am very comfortable, dear Father Frost."

But the Frost, however, knew all about the weakness of human beings; he knew very well that few of them are really good and kind; but he knew no one of them even could struggle too long against the power of Frost, the king of winter. The kindness of the gentle girl charmed old Frost so much that he made the decision to treat her differently from others, and gave her a large heavy trunk filled with many beautiful, beautiful things. He gave her a rich cloak lined with precious furs; he gave her silk quilts--light like feathers and warm as a mother's lap. What a rich girl she became and how many magnificent garments she received! And besides all, old Frost gave her a blue dress ornamented with silver and pearls. This site is on the Crushers：crusher。
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When the young girl put it on she became such a beautiful maiden that even the sun smiled at her.

The stepmother was in the kitchen busy baking pancakes for the meal which it is the custom to give to the priests and friends after the usual service for the dead.

"Now, old man," said the wife to the husband, "go down to the wide fields and bring the body of thy daughter; we will bury her."

The old man went off. And the little dog in the corner wagged his tail and said:

"Bow-wow! bow-wow! the old man's daughter is on her way home, beautiful and happy as never before, and the old woman's daughter is wicked as ever before."
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"Keep still, stupid beast!" shouted the stepmother, and struck the little dog. Went to eat, while repeat.

"Here, take this pancake, eat it and say, 'The old woman's daughter will be married soon and the old man's daughter shall be buried soon.'"

The dog ate the pancake and began anew:

"Bow-wow! bow-wow! the old man's daughter is coming home wealthy and happy as never before, and the old woman's daughter is somewhere around as homely and wicked as ever before."
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The old woman was furious at the dog, but in spite of pancakes and whipping, the dog repeated the same words over and over again.

Father Frost