Lock

Lock may refer to:

Common meanings

  • Lock (security device), a mechanical device used to secure items of importance.
  • Lock of hair, a tuft or small bundle of hair
  • Lock (water transport), a device for boats to transit between different levels of water
  • Lock (weapons guidance), missile navigation system's target acquisition fix
  • Lock (firearm), the ignition mechanism of small arms
  • Lock (rugby league), a player position in rugby league
  • Lock (rugby union), a player position in rugby union
  • Fermentation lock, a device in beer and wine making that allows carbon dioxide to escape while not allowing air to enter
  • Lock, a number of grappling holds in wrestling, judo and other martial arts, e.g. armlock, leglock
  • Rope lock, a device used in theater fly systems
  • Lock (Waltz), a dance figure
  • Information technology

  • File locking, describes a mechanism that restricts access to a computer file
  • Lock (computer science), a bookkeeping object used to serialize concurrent access
  • Lock (database), a feature used when multiple users access a database concurrently
  • Mutha's Day Out

    Mutha's Day Out is an alternative metal band formed in November 1991 from the town of Batesville, Arkansas. The band consisted of: Mikal Moore (vocals), Brice Stephens (vocals), Chuck Schaaf (guitar), Jeff Morgan (bass), and Rodney Moffitt (drums). They released one album, My Soul is Wet, in 1993 for Chrysalis Records before breaking up.

    In early 2012, it was announced on Mikal's Facebook account that a reunion is in the works. However, there have been no further updates since February 2012.

    Biography

    Early days (1991-1992)

    Mikal Moore (born Mikal Morehead) and Randy Cross conceived Mutha's Day Out through influence of the Beastie Boys, with three vocalists (Mikal, Brice Stephens, and Randy). The name was thought up by Brice and came from a daycare center in Batesville that kids could go to for pre-school in Methodist churches. Jeff Morgan had just been kicked out of a band he and Chuck Schaaf were in when Mikal asked him to be in a band that would sound like "Faith No More, Beastie Boys, and Ozzy Osbourne." The band was rounded out by Rodney Moffitt, who played drums, and Lance Branstetter, who played guitar, with Chuck serving as his guitar tech. When the band first came together, Lance was 21 years old, Mikal was 20 years old, Brice was 18 years old, Chuck was 17 years old, Rodney was 17 years old, and Jeff was 15 years old.

    List of HTTP status codes

    The following is a list of Hypertext Transfer Protocol (HTTP) response status codes. This includes codes from IETF internet standards as well as other IETF RFCs, other specifications and some additional commonly used codes. The first digit of the status code specifies one of five classes of response; the bare minimum for an HTTP client is that it recognises these five classes. The phrases used are the standard examples, but any human-readable alternative can be provided. Unless otherwise stated, the status code is part of the HTTP/1.1 standard (RFC 7231).

    The Internet Assigned Numbers Authority (IANA) maintains the official registry of HTTP status codes.

    Microsoft IIS sometimes uses additional decimal sub-codes to provide more specific information, but these are not listed here.

    1xx Informational

    Request received, continuing process.

    This class of status code indicates a provisional response, consisting only of the Status-Line and optional headers, and is terminated by an empty line. Since HTTP/1.0 did not define any 1xx status codes, servers must not send a 1xx response to an HTTP/1.0 client except under experimental conditions.

    Podcasts:

    PLAYLIST TIME:

    Locked Up

    by: Stomper

    [Verse 1:]
    In the city of Angels gotta watch what you doing watch your back
    When your dealing with em boys in blue
    South West holding back Rampart division the worst
    Pico shift gang unit leavin' you ride on a hearse
    Part times in the street but against all odds
    187 on a jura you don't want to get caught
    3 strikes in da county false charges in bulk
    The strict attorney is all crook it evidence over look
    Gang in hands when they sentence young homies to life
    25 with an L defendenced don't fight racist cops
    Pulls up over violent their own law
    Trigger happy officers another name in the wall
    Da little homies bound to loose it
    Cause the system they face make one mistake
    In the city & they cealed your faith
    Fucken pigs always trippen got me packin' a gun
    On the one two striking dats your life on the sun
    [Verse 2:]
    Sounds of sirens in the night dodging the black and whites
    The ghetto birds up in the sky with them big spot lights
    Still the crime rate increases
    And da shit never ceases
    Broken lifes county lifes living families in pieces
    To many prisons in the state of California to make one times on the proud
    Got us fighting these cases penitentiary bounds
    Cause they ain't no love in the streets
    Got lil homies locked homies rest in peace
    Don't get these shit twisted homie cause da shit don't stop
    Dats why 187 on a muthafucken cop
    Till the day dat we die
    Gonna always come and try
    To look us up in the pen they don't need no reason why
    Dats the reason why they got us organized in the hood
    California just a system just ain't no good
    FUCK THE PIGS in my city they can burn in Hell
    I kill ah hundred fucken juras before they take me to jail
    UHH!
    [Verse 3:]
    Locked up in jail handcuff to da rail
    Ain't no money for bail
    They wanna give me a deal got me stuck
    Like a truck straight shit of luck
    I know I'm heading for da pen nobody gives ah fuck
    What can I do keep it true got me singing the blues
    Walk a mile on my shoes
    And let me see your attitude
    I ain't heard 4rm none of my homies yet
    Strollin' to the fucken yard puffin' on a cigarette
    Got feelin' so trap number 1 stay strap
    The other day they struck ah rat
    30 times in the back
    Fuck that I kickback
    I ain't tryin'' to snap going against da fucking grain
    You about to get tax I play cool around my program as smoothest I can
    Tryin' na stay about da mix and respect the next man
    Ain't no gangbangin' here only tattoo tears
    We might be enemies in da streets
    But we all homies in here
    [Verse 4:]
    All I hear all day is the sounds of these gates
    I hear em slamming all around can't wait
    Till the date that they led me out
    So I could get back on the grind
    Got me stuck in my cell thinking of all the good times
    In my mind I see sunshine
    The worlds mine
    Until I open my eyes
    And realized I'm doin' time
    HUH!
    [talkin': Stomper]
    Hell Yeah homeboy this is for da muthafucken homies
    Dats locked up no muthafucken way out homeboy day dreamin'
    How the shit could be it would be should be full of muthafucken
    Regrets cause they got caught with all dis bullshit
    Fuck dat they says it's all about the muthafucken respect




    ×