How To Fix Tear In Seam Of Couch

Thomas A book on stage A lie

were the three characters in that room, simple black wall mirror, desk chair brown and gray. Not looking each other, but watching Thomas, sitting in that chair gray, his hands resting on the brown table and back against the back wall. They wear informal, with no hint of elegance, they might be journalists, scientists or managers frustrated at a store spare fuel. Thomas did not, Thomas has a white shirt, not his fault, it is the protagonist of the work, or at least that's what it was, before the ink timer stopped, before the handle is nailed to the feet. Each three characters had already marked a very important role that he had sent them to fulfill that role, and he could not leave because if they did, would make sense that room, they would not make sense to them and to Thomas, and as recently noted, there is no work without Thomas, no story without Thomas. So first on the right said something, a speech that will not reproduce well-worn but, in summary, can be schematized in the following points: I begged him to speak, that that work was of social commitment, a just cause food spirits concienciaría minds, perhaps save lives. He said he had created as an idealist, he had drawn as combative, just a hero. But Thomas remained silent. What were you thinking? That is something that neither was able to elucidate. He drew frantically editing their edges and unwittingly honing his flaws as a character, making her sound to silence: the sound of those other lips persuasive.

Thus came the turn of the second man. No, I said, this is not a work of commitment, on the contrary, he is a maverick, a cynic, a bully willing to show the world that climate change, poverty as well as care about the future of dairy sector in the northern regions of Belarus. Come on, he continued, trying to dismantle hypocrisy, ideology and remove you, you are an extension of Him, you're a villain, let those be created in a joint work. But Thomas was silent. Could be many things, many people, but at that time was just a heap of gray kilos on a chair, a personality dissipated on a black stage, a dam for the words that issued those characters, to the light wind that woke up with torn gestures. And the third one approached him. I'm with you, I will not be a character, I rebel against him, because I refuse to be what He wants me to be, look how out of the work, to disappear, if possible, but when I disappear. Hang out with me, this is an existentialist play, let them them to fight for just causes, let them flood their cynicism. You and I want out of here. And Thomas was silent. No one had managed to convince him. Seemed to look in the mirror, maybe they thought through it would not be 4, but 8 characters, thought perhaps that this mirror was a desperate attempt to Him by multiplying the mouths that open and close, they emit words and words that suggest fluid of life, intractable conflicts. Soon they saw three left. Saw was only in the room, and looking the mirror was now double the silence. Plunged into darkness. Curtain. Come

Wella Kolestoncolor Chart

had told him. An attractive guy, she thought, nothing more. Maybe interesting, yes, but nothing that had not already known. Approached him in the party, not realizing that she was the center of attention, not realizing that she was to everyone entertained with a suspicious insistence. He came and just started talking. A bit of everything. I was there for a friend of a friend, I knew no one actually came from outside, was visiting. Came the next morning. Where? She asked again and again found no more than vague responses made her think of a trip to the drift in the direction of the wind, clouds, following uncertain and contradictory signs. He did not ask anything, or very little. If he had, perhaps he would have hidden the reality that the next morning left for New York, with work, floor and travel insurance. That was all orderly, planned months in advance, perhaps years, and it filled her with immense pride that the goal it was always believed that one day reach. That in your pocket right had the plane ticket, and that's why he was there for the hand continuously to make sure that was at least real. They drank and ended up in a room of the house. It was a good lover, not great, not a novice. They talked. She felt like the minute hand, eternal abstraction, slowly tore his words, his, in his memory may send them to emptiness, nothing, dodging it like, riding on a wave, fleeing towards the sea of \u200b\u200bletters drawn in sand. Do you regret? Of course not, I thought, what was the result of nostalgia passenger who assaulted a few hours before fire, forever, a pretty face.

Then he quailed. He confessed to it. I did not know what he wanted, he fled because he had nothing, no one, or more But running away because they were, the illusion that someone would haunt him from somewhere. The word away is an understatement, said, to flee must be someone who wants to hold you. She listened attentively as unnecessary judging the spell under which he tried to subdue. And I always had an innate ability, and generally odious to the center of things and fall on it accurately. Bluntly, dreams. No lies. When day broke he still knew nothing of it, made an offer: Come with me. She looked at him, smiled, and without much thought, agreed. They left the house and drifted the hand to the bus station. He looked, and felt distant. So the question again and again if I was what I really wanted. Then she turned around, grabbed her tightly by the hand and are thought that was enough. When the box arrived were to be paid when, inadvertently, a paper street right pocket. He picked it up and asked what that was. Nothing responded, and through a steady motion, threw it away. Someone shouted to the other side of the station and she was startled by the cry, as if it were a response to your action. Originally looked for a moment. Just for a moment. Then he kissed her.
- I love the
said - and I . And she knew instantly that this was the lie that had always been looking for.

Sires Equivalent à Jibjabs

black tales Priscilla

All the boys remembered it because he always told stories. It is said that two of them, who met by chance at a party, began to recall their emotional experiences, and wide after a drunken conversation, concluded that both had left her. It was through this story of stories through which evoked, in unison, the features of Priscilla. Beautiful, yes, but a disturbing beauty, absent. As if she were the one hand, and the near perfection of his face on the other, complementing without becoming one. In the most unexpected moment, enunciated that "imagine if ..." I was always the prelude and another of his stories, so that at the time remember, it was almost impossible to separate, or even distinguish, the sum of actual experiences narrated by her, those stories in which his enthusiasm, usually quite subsided, kindled the brilliant words are recited almost by heart. When asked where it came from those stories, she was silent. Vaguely mentioned an old relationship, not as the source of all his stories, but as the genesis of their creative abilities. And what used to inspire jealousy their partners, as it was during their moments of ecstasy when the figure of Priscilla was clear that air of impenetrability. As if it were only available in those moments where, they suspected, the memory of another running down their language in words. When he finished, his eyes remained fixed on the speaker for a few seconds. Perhaps waiting for answers, perhaps to try and lock in their silence thousands of words that could no longer give out, or perhaps trying to remember, simply, if that story was actually yours. Then again around its insurmountable beauty. And silent.

How To Fix A Split In Your Snowboard

An act of love

- He was a small but robust. Strong. Le whisper in my ear like dirty things as I did. To me that made me sure, but also made me feel bad sometimes.

He watched her, looking into the eyes of her shyness, pain, suffering denote something that was supposed to talk about it. But he found nothing. So crawling in every corner of your body. On her knees, bent, almost touching his genitals on her black hair floating in strange harmony with the night sheltered them, as if both were two parts of a whole, conjured up to make him miss, Miguel, in the unfathomable darkness of your desires. I felt that under that sky, surrounded by an almost total darkness, remained far, far away from himself. And while she goes on to relate that sexual act, he took her arm, slipping his hand, felt her power over him. After watching him and thought so, elsewhere, as if it were a strong bridge between this and other beds so he thoroughly explored. More real than the feel of her sheets, her quilt, more real than his own existence, just hypothetical, taken almost at random images by Lidia poured in on nights like this.

- I threw to the bed. And then they put on me again. I would not ever stop.

looked back for a second it. He could see a water bottle full. And without knowing why that picture turned his attention to the body of Lydia. Not their words. And as he continued pressing his arm, he imagined that bottle burst, the water slipping through the walls, blurring the sharp and intricate gottelet highways for pleasure. Then look again. And suddenly perceived as something in his tone had changed. Continued with his story, yes, but as if it were just a few bits and redeemable as a whole, something had broken, had languished in that deep darkness, as if a tiny light had outlined in a corner and he, Miguel , was on the verge of realizing it. Definitely shifted his gaze from the bottle. Lidia and jumped on, without giving it a single second for his eyes sad rivulets dyed he dreamed, libidinous caressing the walls and soon she posed on her cheeks flushed, I was like so many other times when the desire cruelly digging in his pain, looking through their pores, the direct route to these outbursts of joy unspeakable. So that failed Lidia soon forgotten history, perhaps more real than any other, but as fictional as any other. And Michael saw this as a way to restore the balance between the two. One way to return his affection through an act of love.

Cancer That Spreads Quickly

At the other end of the world

ran up the stairs. That, whatever it was, even following them through the abandoned warehouse. When they reached the quarter were up as the wood floor was cracked, completely rotten. So stood by the door, as if in the middle of the room is a risk that further cede the ground outside. Latched shut. Martin even heard footsteps, a violent mingling with the sound of glass that caused the wind beating against the windows that opened and closed as tabs numb. Abigail looked completely terrified. She did not belong, tracked her gaze around the room whooping anything that small residues would provide confidence that led to his stomach, stuck to fear.

suddenly without expecting it, she took his hand. Pressed very hard. For some time it did not, thought Martin, who for a moment forgot to discern what was a clash of crystals which were threatening footsteps, as if the barrier between one and the other the brands, only their need for she loved him again. It was a moment. Abigail released him to sit on the floor, leaning against the wall without losing sight of every corner of the place. He bent down and stood next to it. Their eyes met. Hers remained bathed in fear, a fear so great that Martin saw as a gesture of condescension toward him because, this time, no reproach in her spoiled stoked, only bewilderment, feeling that nothing happened until when he heard noises, had any importance.

- Are you sure you've heard?, We ponder. He had begun to toy with two stones lying by his side. The yes, while they are passed from hand to hand and looked at her, feeling locked up under the soothing spell.

- do not believe you told Abigail. Suddenly his eyes had ceased to be retracted. And those eyes despised him. That hatred was even greater than any fear that gripped could at that moment. He felt sorry for himself. But also a deep resentment that he wove a second skin. Maybe to her, perhaps to that trip that should never have started, or perhaps, at the failure he felt to be not negligible.

- No, but ... And suddenly sensed the footsteps again. They approached the door. He stood on the ground throwing the pebbles. Abigail, bewildered, stood up with him. He took her hand and ran with her to the bedroom window, listening to their feet crunching wood with such force that Martin asked for a moment but the only sound was that of the house. The door clashed violently with its frame. He opened the window and looked outside and can see a roof formed by wooden boards that writhed, screaming loudly emitted with each breath, as a ragged army that threatens to defect. I felt the danger to their backs. Abigail told why he left. Martin knew what could happen if she stepped on those woods, I knew the fall was mortal, he knew there was no place to fail to hold onto the ground beneath their feet. Nevertheless helped to pass the other side. Touched his body, seized by fear, unable to answer, unable to perceive, not even out the risk involved to the roof. She trusted him. So his face expressed no panic when they fell through the cracks. He had no time. His last act was to confusion. When Martin was to give account, she had fallen and three floors below. And for a moment he felt as if that image somehow, and had been embedded in the retina before, as if it were now little more than an ordinary soulless repetition, unable to make you feel a hint of surprise.

ran to the door. He opened and ran down the stairs. Dominated by an almost ceremonious automation came to the place where the body of Abigail. He looked around. Everything was dark. And background noise still sounded crystal.

(Photo by Mary: http://www.flickr.com/photos/chornoie )

Cinnamon For Heartburn

At World's End

the way there had been tough. And now there was a day of travel. Leaning against the wall, although Martin was an unspeakable: that was not the adventure I expected. They were on that old deserted mansion, which heard the rain falling outside while suffering from this eternal moment, become infinite timeout, which is believed, erroneously, the storm begins to subside. Abigail playing with some pebbles he had found resting on a shelf eaten. And Martin could not help but admire this simple action sensed as the only possible way to observe it without her, enraged after another of their discussions they blamed his inability to assume, once and for all, that it was sinking. For me it is not easy, Martin, but believe me, when you can not can not, she had said. And so it was thought. No doubt it was. And tomorrow we come to the North Cape, and peering over a rock to the world, remember other views the same, in less remote, more common, thinking that it might be easier to be a nomad of the world forever nesting in a human heart. And this time not even the unfathomable ocean would comfort him.

Pokemon Bycycle Gpsphone

wrong person has been a key emotional

The first time he called, his fingers trembled so that they could barely press the buttons on the phone. Then she heard his voice. "Hello," he said. And suddenly he was speechless. He discovered that he had nothing to say it. Was flooded by a deep sense of powerlessness. Not because the words will not come out, but because once took her conscience, fuzzy, uncertain, their existence, he found himself helpless, empty, vulgar, without the armor of dreams that always surrounded him when he watched, furtively, in the third car of the first subway line 5. Then touched with his elbow on bare arm simulating, thereupon, the modesty inherent in any physical contact unpredictability. He was that which was locked behind a book that covers old and almost looks orphan trying to deposit into her green eyes, and in code form, the complete genome of its existence. He was aware of failing in his attempt, so the spot a week after another, to share that kind of intimacy again surrounded by the silence and resignation. So when he saw once his number listed on the cover of his wallet, he wondered whether it was inadvertent slip or reward for their tenacity, and not because of its insistence on an innocent regular proximity, as he believed showing respect to her every time reduced to silence one of its anxious glances. So when the girl hung up the phone to not hear him say anything, could not help thinking that she needed him more than his shy and quiet company in the metro. Maybe not even that. And that number had reached his hand through a trap capricious chance. However

next day as if it were self-imposed imperative, call again. Fell silent again to take her phone. And again he fell impotence to see again hang. This continued so for several days, during which he watched her every morning resting on glass, immutable, wondering what led him him to do what he did. One day she hung up. And it downloaded on a string of expletives as he expected, almost eagerly, he did, but simply began to speak, as his sister or a friend who called and asked for work, their relationships, their tastes and needs. And knew him as the laundry was on the corner of his house from hers, was governed by a guy who spit on sidewalks, and knew it was something she hated, and knew also that once was a guy who did it, and that was the reason she decided to just let the week know. Could not help smiling when she said one day, some time, a guy you spoke to her on the subway, said she was very attractive, and she said thanks, but I had not had a boyfriend and indeed of made by that stage was still beating his breakup with Gabriel, a former colleague whom he met in line at the copier. And every conversation, in which he articulated no sound, ending with a "good, I have to stop and talk. "

He was aware of the comedy that became involved, sure it was the kind of intimacy that she wanted, the maximum he could aspire. So to see her every morning, not feeling recognized himself, pretending to a kind of amnesia, perhaps to excuse, to desire again, to feel person in front of her, and while, not to look with compassion as look at a helpless beast. As she was, above all, a defenseless woman. And it was something that corroborated with the passage of weeks, once accumulated as much data in your life that could well be your own. And just like that without knowing why, let's call it a night.

few days later she spoke to him in the car 3 from line 5. I think we agree in the morning, he said. He stared into her eyes for the first time. The more strongly wished he had never loved anyone. And then felt sorry. For everything. Above all by itself, then saw that she needed at that moment, he could no longer respond. Their relationship, he thought, had been exhausted.

- No, I think that was the wrong person, he said. And kept reading.

Materbation Tequniqes

I looked

intently, but as we look to a partner. His gestures were excessive at times irritating. Failing to dissipate in the flow of words, but words were memories in the form of letters, as basted necessarily in search of elusive linearity. And there in sentences evoked a time midway between delirium and memory, it was called, perhaps with a different tone, perhaps in another way, perhaps in different words. And I guess the knowledge he possessed of this mismatch between the memory and reminiscence, as he uttered the phrase with exaggerated aplomb, as if trying to make him their misinterpretation, perhaps his absence. Thus, while giving birth to their experiences as you like if any sense at the time to be lived, my father deposited in me a secret and confidential message, which never gave me, I know now, trying to offer at that time: the key emotional and non-mathematical, which giving direct access to your heart.

How Much Is It To Get Hair Extensions Sew In

When you feel as if, suddenly, the alarms will awaken your body and not his but a sad sketch, as pitiful, some other body desirous of finding a break between tissue and tissue between the top of your right ventricle and the mute and impenetrable center of his soul. And watched, emerging with modesty or fearful plunging into something that just sensed blue plasticine legs, his neck, naked and ashamed of my looks wicked dyed. Because she does not suspect, or so I think, the perfect escapism maneuver performed when distributed across the lawn slowly drops what she is but I would be, and succeeds, with perfect mimesis, provoke a desire in me the need to be someone else, or be all at once-sometimes hayo no difference, "but to be always at your side. Then looks at me, smiles, and asks me what I feel. I smile and say the only thing that can be said at the time: nothing, nothing wrong with me.

Nami One Piece Hot Images

Jealousy, thought, is a game worth only practice in the company. So when he saw her walk out the door he knew he had only two choices: to love despite everything, chronic blind love, or say his name just before he heard the door slam, saying his name, as an immediate disclosure, let it swell in mouth flooded with dreams of spring, and then not to say it ever again. And as her fingers mimicked jumping, obscured, the pitiful cries of Clea, dripping tears of impatience was wondering if that would be the end or whether it would be just a new beginning to generate new customs, or damaging not be merged reinventing instantly, the only thing really existed at that heap of lies caused: the need for them to each other.
- I love you, "he said. And unless you knew this was a truism.

Uchi Bath Bag Stockist

HP Photosmart C5180 Install All-In-One on Gentoo linux

take some time messing around installing in Gentoo this printer. It's actually a simple process as there is a driver developed that provides very good support. I wrote it more as a personal note than anything else, so it's always located.

The steps are:

- Login as root:

su -

- Emerge as necessary, eye, need special USES:

USE = "cupsddk-ppds" emerge hplip

- Update configuration

etc-update - Configure using the command (as root) hp-setup



- From a window there and just follow the instructions, is simple.


And that's all. Following these simple steps I have my printer working properly.

Cutain Rods90 Degree Angle

When you think you look ... The death of Miguel

One way to call destination is to judge the chances that our look is a compendium of attention that someone dreamed, outlined in the painted metal of today. A moment in which the words are looks and looks, desire for intimacy, frustrated, clearly, for the unbinding that is drawn, not between our bodies, not between our thoughts, Siamese vocation, but between our need to love, without substance or form, and the narrow box that I can hardly vislumbrarte under a smile, a smile insecure, which may be yours by definition, out of necessity. And so, when through your fingers slips a smile on my face, I judge to be necessary to look away and guess yours on me, as if in my absence could see that my eyes are like prisms that distort, to reinvent arbitrarily that approving my particular bureaucratic way of loving. It is then, in verse uncoordinated, assonance and decency of our gaze, I sense sometimes when I smell gas, smell squeaky red roses in a nursery wilted.

Old Building Blueprint

Error - Could not find file 'c018i.o'. File Upload servlet

Environment: MPLAB IDE v8.10
Error: "Error - Could not find file 'c018i.o'. "

This error is generated by not attaching the address where the libraries, then the solution is as follows:

project -> build options -> project -> directories -> library search path ->

Add new directory:
c: / MCC18/lib
hope
reference and serve them (as I had to act as a seer to find the solution to this issue.)

Old Microwaves On The 1920's

My photos selected by

Consulting Scout tool, I created This mural, which describes the images that so far I've selected Flickr Explore sometime. Do not give more importance to the subject, further away from the story, but hey, it always makes you happy to see an image appear around from time to time.

1. Sea and children, 2. gold Mar 3. Waiting for the sunset 4. white villages, 5. Sunset 6. Looking at the sky 7. Alcazaba de Málaga , 8. Night in calm , 9. Solar Eclipse , 10. P7160042.JPG

Rct3 How Do You Get Out Of Helicopter

Aires Flickr Explore fresh in the Algarve (Portugal)

I recently escaped a few days the Algarve. It is the second time I've been there. Again because I love the beaches, weather, and good, the environment in general, which seems a little dough as I like for the summer.

This year I tried to visit sites that I could not see before, both beach and inland. The beaches are beautiful along the coast, and inland towns such as shoulder Silves castle and ancient taste. I have also visited an exhibition of sand sculpture in Pera, which I recommend, as it is simply stunning 15000 m2, almost a small city.

I took some pictures, of which so far I've only uploaded a few, but well, I'll hang ma , s little by little. For more information, you can click on them, have a description in the gallery.

All photos are copyrighted.

Play Pregnancygames.com

Her son, her first child, had died a few months. It was, he used to think, something like a mechanical act of justice exercised in a cold court in the upper echelon of the bureaucratic level that governs the laws of nature. Miguel went as his mother had left two years earlier. And he was just born Gabriel, and removes the last glimmer of life indelible planted, suitable only for nostalgia and not for review. Of course I suffered for it. With his death, disappeared all trace of Andrea because he suspected that, even if you want a child, it will not stop be, somehow, the extension of a woman he loved, and that in his face, his gestures, his movements, is, in some part crouching, the entire genome of any romance. And so, when the child died, just at the moment he saw his life remade, could not help thinking that Michael was a gift given by Andrea, directed not to leave him alone in this world and that, therefore, to draw again the path of the happy days are going back to your natural breast.

When I looked at Gabriel did from the pain of always searching without finding traces of the past ideal (ized) in the present, always imperfect, insufficient. He knew, without being overly dramatic, consisitiría his life, probably, in a relentless pursuit of the features of Michael, of the features of Andrea, in everything around him. So to win their complicity, more out of habit, more for fear of error of laziness or apathy, dusted old alchemy of the heart. And the new thought. Perhaps dreaming of a hint of resemblance in the smile of every baby, Hayase one day, in response to the limited alphabet of strokes, a first moment of happiness virgin, to continue (to be followed!), The nth second hundredth first ...

But Gabriel, her beloved Gabriel, you show every night that happiness does not have a single face, which can invent, even if it requires emotional strabismus. Then he turns his little neck and goes to sleep.

Skins.be Forum Brazil

Undoing perfect scripts

came down in the elevator and take the opportunity to kiss him again, perhaps the last. She barely moved her lips to Robert, I thought to get carried away thinking, even, perhaps agree to go back to the sixth floor so well, blurring the final obvious point, perhaps followed that with so much to blurred in sheets. But in reality she was not expecting anything. And Roberto, ... Robert was aware of random chance encounters always governed by two people, with eyes closed, they want recognition. And this is normal, I thought, there comes a time when one is aware of that empathy is the result largely of necessity and not a strange interplanetary conspiracy aimed at uniting two souls parallel. So that look suspicious that premature nostalgia lay flooded thousands more hoaxes gestated by the desire to believe in destiny.

And so, Roberto walked her to the next street. Taxis went there and she was going to pick one. Steps were now slow, very different from the stride with which trod those tiles a few hours earlier. Of course then walked light, now realize what it takes to be yourself when you have been two for a while, no matter minutes or seconds. Life does not mean insignificant particle. She got into the car. He thought of something to say it, but that only allowed a pre-set comedy "Goodbye." "Get out of paper?" Breaking the rules? It only makes sense when you're tired of swallowing happy lanterns. When I remember the promises vanish in a long phone list.

The taxi left and Roberto resumed his way back home. I really had the white head. He smiled, even thought to think that girl in the timeshare, but did so vague that it could be another requirement than the script that perfect Saturday night. But something drew him from his bewilderment. A sharp infant crying from behind some trees on your right. He went to where they came to meet, to his utter amazement, with a newborn wrapped in a blanket and a rosary around her neck. He came and took her in his arms. Clear that the small did not stop to mourn, so he ran with him to where he had left the girl with the intent to take a taxi to a hospital. The first happened does not put too many impediments to approach it without paying to "La Paz", as Robert, not to have this unexpected, had empty pockets (excepting the sheath of a condom and a pair of Cuban pesos).

- Put your head at your shoulder and pat on the back, you suggested the driver.

Indeed, the baby left to mourn. Looked at his face, his eyes closed and his fingers jamming straight lines on his shirt. The rosary lay in one of the red buttons on the jacket he was dressed. The driver asked him questions to which the young man could hardly answer. I could not find the words. Some of what happened, or perhaps all, do not fit well, gave him an insanely upset. At that time, Robert began to mourn.

Play-mate Of The Apes Online Streaming

see

Here is an updated version of the java servlet code for "file upload".
will place the exact steps I followed for the example to work.

In principle, using Netbeans 6 and tomcat 6 for this example.

1. Obterner the library "Commons IO" (see 1.4) From

http://commons.apache.org/io/

2. Get the library "commons file upload" (in this case got the see 1.2.1 January 2008).

http://commons.apache.org/fileupload/ 3

. Both decompress in a folder "c: / libraries"

4. Create a new project called "FileUpload"


Note that I select "Tomcat 6" as the application server.




5. Create a new html called "UploadFile"






the new html Place the following code:

\u0026lt;HTML> \u0026lt;HEAD> \u0026lt;TITLE> \u0026lt;/ TITLE> \u0026lt;/ HEAD> \u0026lt;BODY> \u0026lt;center> \u0026lt;form method = "POST "enctype =" multipart / form-data ' action = "/ FileUpload / UploadFichero"> Select file to send to the server \u0026lt;br> \u0026lt;input type = "file" name = "file "> \u0026lt;input type="submit" value="Upload"> \u0026lt;/ form> \u0026lt;/ center> \u0026lt;/ BODY> \u0026lt;/ HTML>

6. Add the libraries to be decompressed in the file "c: / libraries "


all libraries will be added commons file upload "

and all libraries will be added commons IO"




All libraries should be so in the environment:


7. It creates a new package, called org.txos



8. It creates a new servlet called "UploadFichero"




9. Place the following code in the servlet:





10. Make "Build" project code

/ * * UploadFichero.java * * Created on 27/6/2008, 11:22:00 AM * * To change this template, choose Tools */ package org.txos; import java.io.*; import java.net.*; import javax.servlet.*; import javax.servlet.http.*; import org.apache.commons.fileupload.*; import org.apache.commons.fileupload.disk.DiskFileItemFactory; import org.apache.commons.fileupload.servlet.ServletFileUpload; import java.util.*; /** * * @author Os */ public class UploadFichero extends HttpServlet { /** * Processes requests for both HTTP <code>GET</code> and <code>POST</code> methods. * @param request servlet request * @param response servlet response */ protected void processRequest(HttpServletRequest request, HttpServletResponse response) throws ServletException, IOException { boolean ok = getNSaveFile(request); response.setContentType("text/html"); PrintWriter out = response.getWriter(); out.println(""); out.println(""); out.println(""); out.println(""); out.println(""); if (ok) { out.println ("The file transfer was successful."); } else {out.println ("file transfer failed.");} out. println (""); out.println (""); out.close ();} public boolean getNSaveFile (HttpServletRequest request) {try { / / Check that it is a multipart request (which is this sending a file) boolean isMultipart = ServletFileUpload.isMultipartContent (request); System.out.println ("Is multipart =" + isMultipart) DiskFileItemFactory DiskFileItemFactory factory = new (); / / maximum size that will be stored in memory factory.setSizeThreshold (4096); / / if you exceed the previous size, it will go away temporarily saved in the address sgte factory.setRepository (new File ("d :/")); ServletFileUpload ServletFileUpload upload = new (factory); / / maximum allowable size (if it jumps to the catch exceeds) upload.setSizeMax (10000000); List fileItems = upload.parseRequest (request); / / get the file sent fileItems.iterator Iterator i = (); FileItem fi = (FileItem) i.next (); / / saves the file sent to the local server / / path and file name of the destination (the server) String path = "c: /"; String fileName = " nuevo.txt " fi.write (new File (path, fileName)); } catch (Exception e) { System.out.println (e.getMessage ()); e.printStackTrace ( ) return false;} return true;} @ Override protected void doPost (HttpServletRequest request, HttpServletResponse response) throws ServletException, IOException { processRequest (request, response);} / * * Handles the HTTP POST method. * @ param request servlet request * @ param response servlet response * /}

11. Run it ....

12. Jsp.index initially be displayed, change the path in the browser to:


13. You should see a page like this:


14. Find any file, preferably . Txt and upload ... will see the following page:

15. Find the file "upload" in c: / nuevo.txt.
16. End
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx