Matchbox metal cars.
Do you remember your first one? I do.
I must have been around five years old and I told my parents that I wanted a “matchbox”.
They looked at me strangely.
And the next day, my father gave me an empty box of matches, and I looked up at him quizzically and asked “what’s this?”.
And he said, “Well, you want a matchbox, right?”
I sighed and went off to play with the other boys and their “matchbox cars”.
Eventually my parents figured out what it was, and one day when my father came home he provided me a nice matchbox car. It was a yellow (top down) convertible. And I was so happy. I played and played with that car.
A simple childhood memory of mine.
I just wanted to share with you all.
Today…
FLASH TRAFFIC: RADIATION ALERT — UKRAINE
Radiation Alerts are going off in Ukraine. People in the town of Kropyvnytskyi are being told to “take cover” and that Brick and/or concrete buildings are the best protection from “ionizing radiation” as are basements!
The scalable map below shows the city location of the radiation alerts:
The radiation alert, going out over cellular networks and on TV and radio are all telling people to take cover immediately.
Below is a machine-translated cellular phone alert:
No details are presently available about why this radiation alert has been issued. No word about any specific target that may have been hit, that may be leaking radiation. No claim anywhere of any type of nuclear explosion.
Here is the original, Ukraine-language Radiation Alert:
More info if and when I get it 5:48 PM EDT 9-07-2025
HAL TURNER INITIAL REACTION
As of 6:08 PM EDT, we still have no indication why this alert went out, or if it is real or in-error. We still do not have any reports specific target being hit in this area which may have any relation to radiation. We still have no claim whatsoever, from anyone, of any nuclear-type explosion.
My initial reaction to this is severe: NATO made clear to Russia that if any nuclear radiation “drifts from Ukraine into a NATO member country, that NATO will treat the drifting radiation as an “attack” and will Invoke “Article 5 Collective Self Defense” then enter the conflict on the side of Ukraine.”
Russia has made clear that if NATO invokes Article 5, “Collective Self Defense” against Russia, “there will be no winner.” As all of us know, the only war where the “is no winner” is a nuclear war.
This city is in the very heart of geographical Ukraine. At this hour, prevailing winds in that area show a movement of NORTHEAST TO WEST (toward Poland) and SOUTHWEST toward Romania):
MORE INFO IF AND WHEN I GET IT 6:16 PM EDT SEPT 7, 2025
What happens if a person with wounds on their hands grabs a rusty fence?
The underlying problem is the danger of tetanus. But tetanus cannot be caught from rust. The tetanus bacillus lives in the intestines of herbivores, such as horses. It produces spores, which are very resistant to the external environment. For example, they can withstand boiling water. This is why surgical equipment must be autoclaved at 134 degrees Celsius.
The spores, which are produced in their millions, remain there, waiting for conditions to return to their normal vegetative form. Hence the risk of materials that have been exposed to airborne dust for a long time. A rusty material has been exposed for a long time.
But tetanus spores do not thrive in just any wound. They are exclusively anaerobic and do not multiply in the presence of oxygen. They need a wound with dead tissue, where blood and therefore oxygen cannot reach. There they multiply and produce a tetanus toxin that causes uncontrollable muscle contractions. The patient dies when he or she is unable to relax his or her respiratory muscles.
The way to avoid this is with the vaccine, which must be repeated from time to time.
We should have bought the electric school buses from China
Why do China and India neglect Ukraine?
- 2019 Hong Kong riots, Ukrainian Azov battalion deeply involved, training terrorists, organizing Hong Kong thugs to watch Ukrainian civil war documentaries, templates, brainwashing.
- In 2022, Ukrainian officials issued an article ‘Give China a chance to join the civilized world.’
- In April 2023, the Ukrainian parliament cries out to China: ‘Mainland China has no legal rights over Taiwan!’
- In September 2023, an advisor to the Ukrainian President’s office, made a racist statement that ’Both Chinese and Indian people have low intelligence.’
- February 2024, Ukrainian MP says “Ukraine is willing to fight for the United States, whether in the trenches of Tehran, near Korea, or near Beijing’;
- In September 2024, on the anniversary of the victory of the Chinese People’s War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression, when the Chinese were in mourning, the Ukrainian Ambassador to Japan, Sergey, visited the infamous Yasukuni Shrine, declaring that he ‘honored the martyrs who died for their country (Japan)’.
Boycotting the Beijing Winter Olympics, boycotting Xinjiang cotton, insulting China’s envoys for diplomatic mediation… Ukraine has done all of the above.
So, may I ask, from what standpoint do you think the Chinese people need to sympathize with Ukraine?
What kind of Evil organization is NATO, which Ukraine is digging in its heels to join?
Do you remember the news in 1999?
NATO, led by the United States, bombed the Chinese Embassy in Belgrade, killing three Chinese diplomats… After the incident, NATO blamed it on a “mistaken bombing”. 5 missiles “mistakenly” bombed the same building, what a coincidence.
According to the U.S. Embassy, “An attack on an embassy is considered an attack on the country it represents”, and the NATO bombing of the Chinese Embassy in Belgrade. can already be considered a declaration of war against China and an enemy of China.
Orange Revolution in 1994, Euromaidan in 2004 already doomed Ukraine today.
The Ukrainian army massacres ethnic Russian citizens of Ukraine, cultivates neo-Nazi organizations, acts as a puppet of the United States.
What Ukraine has done is not a matter of whether the Chinese people sympathize with it or not, but a matter of “self-inflicted sins”.
We sympathize with civilians in war zones, but Ukraine as a country is hard for us to sympathize with.
Russia and Ukraine are both strategic partners of China. China can only guarantee to remain neutral and not take sides. It will provide civilian supplies to Ukraine on humanitarian grounds to protect its people’s livelihood, which is the goodwill that China has released to Ukraine.
Of course, China will not supply weapons to Russia. If China had supplied Russia with weapons, Ukraine would have been defeated and the Russo-Ukrainian war would have ended long ago.
Genuine Texas Chili Bread
Ingredients
- 3/4 cup hot salsa
- 1/4 cup onions, chopped
- 1/8 cup hot pepper sauce
- 1 egg
- 3 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
- 2 teaspoons granulated sugar
- 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
- 1 cup mashed kidney or pinto beans
- 3 teaspoons fresh jalapeño, seeded and chopped
- 1 1/2 teaspoons yeast
Instructions
- Place all ingredients in a bread pan, select a light crust setting, and press “start”.
Who were some of the people that no one could help?
This image is the press photo of the year 1985.
It shows 13-year-old Omayra Sánchez three hours before her death.
She died after three days of agony, in front of the media and the world.
And no one could save her.
What had happened?
November 16, 1985. A few days earlier there had been an eruption of the Nevado Del Ruiz Volcano.
The eruption was followed by a landslide. In Armero, not far from the Colombian capital Bogota, 24,000 people were victims of the forces of nature.
The disaster struck Colombia at a time when the South American country was already ravaged by political unrest. Help for the people of the devastated region took a long time to arrive.
During the disaster Sánchez became trapped in a mud hole.
When the volcanic eruption destroyed her home, her father and aunt had died in the house. Omayra had survived, but when rescue teams tried to help her, they found her legs were trapped under the roof of her house.
Once the girl was freed from the waist up, her rescuers tried to pull her out, but it was impossible without breaking her legs. The rescuers put a circle around her body to prevent her from drowning.
Divers soon discovered that Omayra’s legs were trapped under a pile of bricks and that her aunt’s body was under her feet. The dead aunt had her arms wrapped around Omayra’s legs.
Omayra was stuck up to her neck in rubble, mud, concrete and water.
Rescue teams lacked basic supplies such as shovels, cutting tools and stretchers. Rescuers spent about two days trying to get a pump to save Omayra, but officials said the nearest pump was too far away to arrive in time.
Throughout her suffering, Omayra Sánchez always gave hope and confidence to her friends and family, even publicly.
Despite her suffering, she agreed to be interviewed and encouraged everyone else in the process.
The girl appeared calm, almost serene, and reminded everyone of a saint.
She was clinging to a wooden pole, her hand swollen and whitish. Scraps of burlap, bits of film, and debris floated on the surface of the water beside her. The girl was looking directly into the photographer’s camera.
The doctors decided that the most humane thing to do was to let her die. They did not have the surgical conditions in the water to try to save her from the effects of amputating both legs.
Three hours after this photo was taken, after 60 hours of agony, Omayra died, probably from gangrene and hypothermia.
If Omayra’s rescuers had had the pump they searched everywhere, they could have pumped out all the water around her. Then they could have amputated her legs and saved the girl.
The photographer who took the picture says there were hundreds of people trapped like that, and at first there were a lot of screams, then it got more and more silent.
Imagine you were standing there unable to help.
The photographer says many people asked him why he didn’t help the girl. But he couldn’t.
He says the only thing he could do was to show Omayra’s strength.
Eventually he was hallucinating.
The grave of this beautiful girl today is the symbol of the disaster.
When Celebrities Come In To Sell Stuff On Pawn Stars
My CFO friends in Shanghai tell me that they’re experiencing powerful economic headwinds. But I hear China is to grow by a robust 5% this year. Why is there this juxtaposition?
In every country at any time, there will be activities that prosper and activities that decline. If the overall of prosper exceeds the overall of decline, the economy will see positive growth.
This is the situation in China.
We know the green tech industries are growing, but the property market is still in decline. We know that its exports to the global south countries are rising, but not the exports to the US and EU. We know US is still doing whatever sanctions it can think of, but we also know of DeepSeek and Huawei.
There are good news and there are bad news and challenges. If you have time to go through the reports of the Two Sessions, you will know China faces many problems. Chinese officials do not self-congratulate, but are great at pointing out problems, like youth unemployment, the need to create 12 million new urban jobs, not enough entrepreneurs, housing problem, problems galore.
So overall, it depends on where your CFO friends (plural) work. You may want to cross-check with them whether all of them are “experiencing powerful economic headwinds”. Maybe some are quite minor. Maybe, they are exaggerating. Maybe they are putting you on. It seems unlikely to me that all of them would be working not only on the declining side, but on the DEEPLY declining side to experience “powerful” economic headwinds.
Is Anybody Down There
Submitted into Contest #210 in response to: Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.… view prompt
Mary Bendickson
“For one thing, I am a full grown male with all the equipment to prove it.” He insisted waving his proof in her face. “And, although I am pleased you think I am good looking, ‘pretty’ is not the correct vernacular to use towards a male of a species. Haven’t you been keeping up with proper protocol at all?”
“You wave that appendage in my face one more time and I’ll call your bluff and you know where that will leave you. Of course, me too, but I would at least get to see the offspring. You would be long gone. Like that whale. Fodder. Why do you think we haven’t done anything so foolish yet? Even though we may both want to and have been tempted many times.”
“You’re correct as usual. With us, unfortunately, indulgence like that is one and done. It just doesn’t seem fair does it? Those dolts up top just do it for the pleasure of it and not even to procreate every time. Most of the time they don’t take it seriously and don’t take the responsibility necessary to raise intelligent offspring. No wonder our kind have witnessed such decline in their abilities. They flail about trying to put something out there to prove we exist, but just leave trash heaps everywhere. Why, even their attempts at exploring down here are dismal failures with loss of life not to mention the heap of trash once more. Maybe it is a good thing we finally come out of hiding and show ourselves to them. We can teach them a thing or two.”
“It does make you wonder what Gracious Omnipotent Deity was thinking when He granted them dominion over the earth and created them in His own likeness. Seemed more of an afterthought since He added them last. They can’t even recognize what is right under their noses. Call us ‘aliens’ when we have been here longer than they have been.”
“Well, My Dearest, talk about longevity, neither of us have that much longer to enjoy the fruits of our labor so instead of just admiring all the succulent things about one another we should maybe pass our ship duties to the younger explorers and finally give in to our wanton wants. It may only be a one time adventure but we can make it last for days, My Love. I only want to wrap you in my arms.” He caressed her cheek with his free arm while maneuvering the ship into the docking station. “Here we are. Time to face the facts.”
“Thanks for taking over that little maneuver. You are good with your hands. Maybe I’ll think about your indecent proposal. We should exchange the aqua in the FBFS and refuel before we make our report. And I would like to change out of this confining body suit into something more comfortable. Whose idea was it anyway to try to take on their two-pod ways anyway?”
“Someone way back in the 1940’s because of an incident at Roswell is all I understand about it. We try to maintain that image because that’s what they are expecting. Need any help with the zipper?” His bulging eyes popped wide twice with hopeful anticipation.
“I say it is time for them to face the facts, too, then. No, but thanks for the offer. Meet you in his outer sanctuary in about ten.” She sauntered away towards the dressing rooms making sure he did not miss the swing of her hips in the tight little green suit.
<><><>
“Well, I must say, Commander, you clean up pretty well. I like your skirt showing off all your limbs. Wouldn’t mind…”
“Hush now, Officer. We may be overheard. Must practice complete decorum.”
Secretary, “The Supreme Potentate will receive you now, Commander and Officer. Right this way, please.”
They were let into an opulent palace throne room resplendent in marble columns, multi-colored coral reefs in jewel hues, swaying seaweed and giant clam shells. The Supreme Potentate reclined in one of those shells at the end of the room. He raised an arm in greeting.
“Welcome once again to my chamber. What good news do you have to report from your mission? We have been picking up strange information from the cables strung across the sea floor. Is it true they are telling the world we do exist? Have they discovered our true nature? Will they be mounting an invasion?”
The visitors bowed deeply brushing their skirts to the ground. The Commander spoke, “Yes, Your Eminence, it is true. At least in the US of A government halls they are making known sightings by respectable members of their military and reputable pilots. They claim they have seen unidentifiable flying objects in the air space around them that maneuver in unexplained ways far superior to their own craft or any known technology of other nations. They have captured us on film. The nations may even corroborate to verify something of such magnitude this time. Who knows on that point? But they are admitting they have specimens from the Roswell fiasco.
“They are describing in better details our Fish Bowl Flying Saucers now understanding why the domes are full of water and why the inhabitants can’t survive in their atmosphere for more than say an hour. Likewise, they can not survive in our natural habitat without special accommodations. We found that out by trial and error ourselves when we tried harvesting them from their fields.”
“Are the proletarians believing their rulers?”
“There has been so much fake news circulating and people are leery of trusting their government these days so it is really difficult to know. No panic has set in yet. And if there are plans for a military response it is very incandescent. We may be safe continuing as we have for centuries. Keeping our sunken treasures secret.”
“This world is so big and diverse I don’t see why there couldn’t remain room for us all as long as someone doesn’t destroy the delicate balance. They stay up top and we run the seabed. Yes, we are far more advanced being able to devise miraculous inventions with the power of our minds and trust in the Gracious Omnipotent Deity to supply all our needs. We do not make war. With all our arms we make love…”
“Speaking of making love, Oh, Supreme Potentate, The Commander and I were wondering if we could be decommissioned so we could…?”
“Oh, oh, yes. I can see where you are going. You have both served long with devout loyalty. I can see no reason why you shouldn’t live a little so to speak… Best of mating to you and may you be blessed with 100,000 baby octopuses.”
Why don’t Singaporeans feel that Singapore is a first-world country? Please answer without comparing with other countries. If you feel that Singapore is a first-world country, why is it so?
The hardware is first world, the software isn’t, yet.
One crazy fact about Singapore post-independence is our society chose to let a very small group of individuals who were so far ahead and different from their peers lead them. This almost never happens in one-man one-vote systems because people tend to elect representatives they can relate to.
Consider our founding fathers. The key ministers were English educated. Lee Kuan Yew was one of a handful of Cambridge-trained lawyers in the entire Peninsula. Goh Keng Swee had a PhD in Economics from LSE. Rajaratnam dropped out of King’s College Law due to WWII. He also married the love of his life, the Hungarian Piroska.
Twenty years post independence, my MOE-trained veteran Chinese teacher spoke broken English, while my mum and grandma spoke none. I was functionally illiterate until I was well into Primary two, because dialect-speaking me had problems with Mandarin, much less a foreign tongue like English. Kindergarten in those days taught nothing more than A for Apple, B for Bear…
Dragging an entire society with a potpourri of third world skills and attributes kicking and screaming into the prosperity of the first world required sacrifice. Grandparents became part of the “useless” class with the switch to English. Their children, the parents of my generation, had to pick up enough English to stay relevant and make a living. Many of them became obsolete way before retirement—their semi-skilled jobs increasingly being replaced by youthful and cheaper foreign labor, or machines.
All four of my grandparents were from the mainland. However, they were from two dialect groups with very different communication styles. Even though I spent my entire childhood with my paternal grandmother, she never told me much about life before she arrived in the lion city. Such was the radical change in our way of life I would have found it difficult to reconcile her stories with the world I was living in, even if she had opened up. The little I know today I assimilated from many sources, including contemporaneous novels from Lu Xun to June Chang.
It is my generation—children born in the 70s—brought up speaking and thinking in English, that will write the beginnings of Independent Singapore’s heritage. Our children, and especially our grandchildren, will be the first generation of Singaporeans to have the luxury of heritage and cultural continuity, and not suffer the intellectual and cultural divorce so poignantly experienced by mine.
I will consider the transition to first world complete when my grandchildren become adults. The intellectual environment and demographics will be indistinguishable from Japan or Europe today.
First world for me is three generations of full citizens relating equally with each other and taking full ownership of the island we call home.
One People. One Nation. One Singapore.
The 50s Sci-Fi Film That REDEFINED Space Movies And INSPIRED Star Trek!
What is it like to be white in a minority majority workplace?
I’m a white guy who builds houses in Texas, basically the Fort Worth area. The vast majority of the trades that I work with are Hispanic, everybody from south of the Rio Grande is referred to as Mexican here, regardless of their country of origin. Today I was on a job site waiting for a delivery and three gentleman pulled up in a white van and started doing some work on the house. None of them spoke English, but we were able to communicate through sign language and translation app on my phone.
Working with a majority of Mexican trades has opened my eyes wider than they were before. Where I lived previously, Hispanics were only labor, they were never skilled labor. In Texas, plumbers, electricians, HVAC installers are all Mexican. They are skilled labor. They are also unskilled labor.
I just returned from a meeting with my Framing Contractor, Alonso. Alonso was born in Mexico and came here about 25 years ago. He has his work visa but does not have citizenship or even a green card yet and he tells me he can’t leave the country to return to Mexico to visit his family. His wife just got her green card so he’s hopeful he will get his.
He said that America is still the land of opportunity and that while there is racism here, there’s racism in Mexico as well. Virtually no opportunity unless you wind up working for a cartel or in the government which are essentially the same thing.
I find that when I treat my trades with respect, they are very open to discuss what it’s like living here and working here as someone born somewhere else. Respect seems to go a long, long way.
I remember walking with my second born in St. Louis through a very poor neighborhood and crossing a bridge over the railroad tracks. We did not fit in demographically. There were a couple of black gentlemen sitting on some chairs just passing the time. I looked them in the eye and said “good morning” and they responded in kind.
As we walked away, my son commented to me “I was a little nervous but I like how you handled that”. I told him they’re human beings just like we are and they appreciate being acknowledged just like we do.
Sir Whiskerton and the Mystery of the Hypnotic Hay: A Tale of Trance, Tie-Dye, and a Very Confused Chipmunk
Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for a tale of hypnotic hilarity, bovine bewilderment, and one particularly perplexed cat who just wants to know why everyone is suddenly obsessed with hay. Today’s story is one of absurdity, adventure, and the occasional existential crisis, all wrapped up in a whirlwind of trance-inducing hay bales and tie-dye wisdom. So, grab your sense of humor and a pair of sunglasses (to shield your eyes from the hypnotic glare), as we dive into Sir Whiskerton and the Mystery of the Hypnotic Hay: A Tale of Trance, Tie-Dye, and a Very Confused Chipmunk.
The Arrival of the Hypnotic Hay
It all began on a sunny morning when the farmer unloaded a new shipment of hay into the barn. The animals, always eager for fresh bedding and snacks, gathered around to inspect the bales. But something was… off. The hay had an unusual golden glow, and it seemed to hum faintly, as if it were alive.
“Groovy hay, man,” Bessie the Tie-Dye Cow said, her mood ring flashing a curious shade of purple. “It’s like it’s calling to me. Far out!”
Before Sir Whiskerton could intervene, Bessie took a bite of the hay. Her eyes glazed over, and she began to sway rhythmically. “I feel… amazing,” she said, her voice dreamy. “This hay is the key to inner peace, man. Everyone should try it!”
One by one, the animals followed Bessie’s lead. Rufus the Dog started chasing his tail in slow motion, muttering about “the infinite loop of existence.” Doris the Hen began clucking in iambic pentameter, declaring herself the “bard of the barnyard.” Even Ferdinand the Duck, usually so self-absorbed, started quacking in perfect harmony with the yodeling fish.
Sir Whiskerton, who had been enjoying a particularly luxurious nap in a sunbeam, opened one eye. “What in the name of order is going on?” he muttered, adjusting his monocle. “This is either a new form of farmyard yoga or a complete disaster. And I’m leaning heavily toward disaster.”
The Investigation Begins
Determined to restore order, Sir Whiskerton approached Bessie, who was now leading a group of animals in a synchronized hay-chewing meditation. “Bessie,” he said, his tone calm but firm, “what exactly is going on here?”
“It’s the hay, man,” Bessie replied, her voice as smooth as a summer breeze. “It’s like… magic. You should try it.”
Sir Whiskerton eyed the glowing hay with suspicion. “I think I’ll pass. But I do need to find out where this hay came from before the entire farm turns into a tie-dye commune.”
With Bessie reluctantly pulled from her trance (and still humming a Grateful Dead tune), the two set off to investigate. Their first clue came from Lucifer the Chipmunk, who was perched on a fence post, twirling his whiskers and muttering about “the great hay conspiracy.”
“Lucifer,” Sir Whiskerton said, flicking his tail, “what do you know about this hypnotic hay?”
Lucifer’s eyes widened, and he struck a dramatic pose. “Ah, the hay! The hay of destiny! The hay of doom! It was delivered under the cover of darkness, by a shadowy figure with a handlebar mustache! I tried to warn everyone, but they were too busy… chewing.”
Sir Whiskerton sighed. “Of course they were.”
The Source of the Spell
Following Lucifer’s cryptic clues, Sir Whiskerton and Bessie tracked the hay to a hidden corner of the barn, where they found a strange contraption: a hay bale surrounded by glowing pickles, a tuba, and a suspiciously large jar of glitter.
“This,” Sir Whiskerton said, narrowing his eyes, “is the work of Chef Remy LeRaccoon.”
Sure enough, Remy emerged from the shadows, wearing a lab coat and goggles. “Ah, Sir Whiskerton! Bessie! You’ve discovered my latest invention: the Hypno-Hay 3000! It’s designed to bring peace and harmony to the farm through the power of hypnotic hay!”
Bessie tilted her head. “Peace and harmony, man? That’s groovy and all, but why is everyone acting so… weird?”
Remy adjusted his goggles. “Well, there may have been a slight miscalculation in the formula. Instead of inducing calm, the hay seems to be causing… well, whatever this is.”
Sir Whiskerton sighed, flicking his tail. “Remy, your inventions always come with hidden costs. This time, it’s a farm full of animals who think they’re poets, philosophers, and psychedelic rock stars.”
Breaking the Spell
Determined to restore order, Sir Whiskerton, Bessie, and Remy devised a plan to reverse the effects of the hypnotic hay. The key, they realized, was to disrupt the hay’s hypnotic frequency using a combination of yodeling fish, tie-dye vibrations, and a well-timed saxophone solo by Ferdinand the Duck.
“It’s a long shot,” Sir Whiskerton said, “but it’s the best we’ve got.”
As the yodeling fish began their hypnotic melody, Bessie used her tie-dye powers to create a counter-frequency, while Ferdinand belted out a soulful rendition of Yankee Doodle. The hay’s glow began to fade, and one by one, the animals snapped out of their trances.
“What… what happened?” Doris the Hen asked, blinking in confusion. “Why am I covered in glitter?”
“Long story,” Sir Whiskerton said, flicking his tail. “But the important thing is, you’re back to normal.”
The Moral of the Story
As the farm returned to its peaceful routine, the animals reflected on the day’s events.
The moral of the story, dear reader, is this: Beware of quick fixes—they often come with hidden costs. Whether it’s hypnotic hay, a miracle gadget, or a shortcut to success, it’s important to consider the consequences before diving in. And remember, true peace and harmony come from within, not from a glowing bale of hay.
A Happy Ending
With the hypnotic hay safely disposed of, the farm returned to its usual rhythm. Bessie, now back to her groovy self, organized a tie-dye meditation session to help everyone recover. Remy, ever the optimist, vowed to “refine his formula” and maybe add a few safety features.
As for Sir Whiskerton, he returned to his sunbeam, content in the knowledge that he had once again saved the day. The farm was calm, the animals were happy, and the hay… well, the hay was just hay.
And so, dear reader, we leave our heroes with the promise of new adventures, new inventions, and hopefully, no more hypnotic hay. Until next time, may your days be filled with laughter, wisdom, and just a little bit of feline genius.
The End.
Should you rent a car when visiting London?
I would not recommend anyone to rent a car in London if you are going to be staying in London.
You’ll feel like you have an elephant to look after. You can put it nowhere, it’s in the way of everyone and everything, including your own mobility, and it will cost you more than its benefits can justify.
When in London, think “prairie dog”.
The way to get around London is to pop down a hole, dash across town to your destination, and pop out another hole. That thing is called “The Tube”, the underground. It’s the ticket to London, because you can see on a map where you’d be going with each train, and once you’re out, it’s just you. No car to park.
But if your destination is actually outside London, I can definitely recommend a car. Driving in England is a pleasure, and you can get to destinations that are not easily accessible otherwise, in rural places.
Places like these are car stuff:
Just beware – this is also typical:
She Tried to Shame Her Husband Online and This Happened
Can a credit card company suddenly tell you that you have an unpaid card from over 25 years ago? Can they make you pay it?
I had a Bank of America (BOA) credit card for my business that was over 40 years old. The account was fully paid off and was closed after some issues with their handling of other commercial accounts. However, somehow BOA began to contact me again, sending past-due notices after finding my current address.
Due to being a victim of identity theft and fraud, I couldn’t ignore these notices. BOA had a history of mistreating my employees, charging them fees to get cash back from their paychecks—even if they had BOA accounts. This led to friction, forcing me to close my BOA accounts and move everything to Wells Fargo.
At one point, BOA’s harassment became so bad that I filed a restraining order against them. My business was multi-million-dollar, and they had no reason to contact me. The judge awarded the restraining order after reviewing recorded phone conversations, answering machine messages, and mail from BOA.
Then, out of the blue, BOA came after me for an “unpaid” debt that had grown to over $23,000—this included late charges, service fees, and 28% interest. Fortunately, I still had the original account file. When I looked at it, I realized that BOA actually owed me 37 cents. Since the account was closed, I wasn’t about to make a fuss over 37 cents, but they kept coming after me.
To avoid breaking the restraining order, I contacted the sheriff’s office. They advised me to either ignore it or take BOA to small claims court. They couldn’t see how I owed any money because the account matched the closing paperwork, and in fact, BOA owed me 37 cents.
Eventually, a lawyer from BOA filed the claim in court, and I was served paperwork. I couldn’t help but laugh. I decided to counter-sue, but that lawsuit was canceled, as they now moved it over to the Federal Courthouse; so I filed a complaint of fraud in federal court instead. I drove 50+ miles to the courthouse to file the complaint, and two weeks later, the case was heard.
The judge presiding over the case was clearly in a sour mood when BOA’s lawyers began presenting their paperwork. I didn’t interrupt but couldn’t help laughing at the absurdity of it all, which caught the judge’s attention.
JUDGE: “Are you Dr. Cline?”
ME: “Yes, Your Honor.”
JUDGE: “Who is your lawyer?”
ME: “I’m representing myself. I’ve filed a formal complaint of fraud. BOA and their attorneys need to be charged with fraud.”
I showed the judge my original files from when I owned the business and explained how BOA had previously violated the restraining order. The judge asked the bailiff to take copies of the file and restraining order and announced a 15-minute recess to review them.
When the judge returned, he was furious. He reprimanded BOA for claiming the account was personal instead of commercial, which was clearly stated in the documents. He also addressed their attempts to mislead the court, even accusing them of perjury.
JUDGE: “Bank of America, you owe Dr. Cline 37 cents, but given the interest rate and the time involved, you owe her $258.”
He then ordered BOA to pay me $5,000 for the fraudulent lawsuit and all the damages they caused. The BOA lawyers tried to argue that I never filed a lawsuit, but the judge wasn’t having it.
He proceeded to hold them in contempt of court and ordered them to pay me $7,500 for the damages and the fraudulent actions. One of BOA’s attorneys tried to delay the process, but the judge wasn’t having any of it. He insisted the payment be processed that day. Two of the lawyers were held in contempt. The younger lawyer who didn’t say anything and remained quiet, was permitted to stay.
The young attorney from BOA was allowed to contact the bank, and the payment was processed quickly. The check was issued to me, and the judge ordered the case to be sealed and closed. He also ensured that if BOA ever tried to pull something like this again, the case could be reopened.
After the check was handed to me, the judge made sure that BOA was fully aware of the restraining order and instructed them to report it to headquarters.
JUDGE: “I’m going to have the Federal Agents investigate this case. Do I have your permission to hand over the file to them for prosecution?”
ME: “You may, Your Honor. Thank you.”
The judge expressed his regret that I had to go through such nonsense and wished me well as I left the courtroom. It was a long and frustrating battle, but I finally received justice.
Take Me To Your Leader
Submitted into Contest #210 in response to: Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.… view prompt
Chris Campbell
“Greetings!” Repeated the stranger at the front door.
“Hi,” Dinky replied nonchalantly. “What do you want?”
“We come in peace.”
“Mom, I think he’s one of those Jehova Witness assholes, dad’s always tellin’ to get lost.”
“Young man. There’ll be no more of that kind of language in this house,” Dinky’s mother scolded. “I don’t care what your daddy calls them. You are not to use profanity.”
“Greetings, Earthling,” the stranger repeated. “Take me to your leader.”
“She’s in the kitchen,” Dinky explained. “Making me my dinner.”
Stooping low to avoid hitting his egg-shaped head on the mantle of the doorway, the stranger gently brushed past the small human, but was quickly halted with a tug on his long cobalt-coloured cape that loosely dragged behind him.
“My mom says I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”
“What is your name, Earthling?”
“Dinky. On account of my size.”
“Well, Dinky on account of my size. I am Five Magger Orit. A name earned on the number of maggers I own. Now that we’ve been introduced, you may talk to me. From what I have studied in the great hall of cosmic wisdom on the customs of your people, upon introduction, strangers become friends. So, I am no longer a stranger to you.”
“What’s a magger?” Dinky innocently asked.
“It is what you would call, a starship.”
“Like, in space?”
“Where else, Dinky human?”
“How many have you got?”
“Five. But I already explained that to you, small brainchild.”
“You talk funny.”
“That is because I do not come from here.”
Attempting to continue his advance into the house, the stranger was once again halted by another tug on his cape.
“Where do you come from, then?” Dinky wanted to know.
“Five parseps and three wormholes from here.”
“Is that far?”
“It is – when the solar wind is against you.”
The interstellar and intellectually distanced conversation was abruptly halted by the crash of a glass bowl smashing on the dining room floor. Dinky’s mother, Alice, had come to investigate the unfamiliar voice in her house. Seeing a giant man with an odd-shaped head wearing a gold jumpsuit and a richly deep blue coloured cape flowing from high on his neck to his feet and one shoe size further, shocked her senses beyond reasonable acceptance. However, the smashing sound of the glass contacting hard floor, snapped Alice out of her momentary trance.
“Who… who who are you, mister?” Alice demanded to know.
“This is Ori, Mom.”
Dinky devilishly laughed as he finished his jovial introduction.
“He says he’s from where they eat parsnips and worms.”
“No, that is not what I said, small Earthling,” the stranger tried to correct the boy.
“Can he stay for dinner?”
Turning his attention to Alice, the stranger greeted her, repeating his earlier introduction.
“Greetings! We come in peace. The young sapling here, says you are his leader.”
Thinking the wide-eyed woman’s similar expression to her son’s earlier agape mouth was an Earth greeting custom, prompted the stranger to mimic her look of surprise, revealing a disturbing view of a third eye in the middle of his throat. Panicking, Alice swiftly clutched at Dinky, pulling him into the protection of her arms.
“You better be gittin’ mister. My husband is due home any second now, and he don’t like canvassers, salesmen, or bible thumpers knockin’ at our door.”
“Husband?” Asked the stranger.
“Yes, the man of the house. The bread winner.”
“You are not the leader?” The stranger confusedly asked, lowering his chin to conceal the extra eye.
“Dad’s the leader,” Dinky volunteered. “He bakes bread and brings it home to eat.”
“Then, take me to your leader, Earth midget.”
“Alice?”
“Ray!” Shrieked Alice at the sight of Dinky’s dad appearing at the front door.
“Dad! Come meet Ori. He wants to talk to you.”
Placing a basket of baked goods onto the couch, Ray cautiously entered his own home.
“Listen, Mister. If you’re selling something, we’re not interested.”
“Greetings, Leader,” the stranger reiterated. “We come in peace. There are many things to be discussed,” he tried to explain.
“Can Ori stay for dinner, Dad? He’s been eating worms and parsnips and sounds hungry. Maybe, you could give him some of your cakes from your shop?”
“That true, Mister? You homeless?”
“That is a term I do not comprehend. I have a home. All my people have a home. I am but a simple traveller passing on a message from the stars, who has been tasked to bring you great news. We would like to share our technology with you that will end all hunger, poverty, and war.”
“Oh, I get it,” Ray realised. “You’re from that new church in town. The one with the science name. Oh, what is it?”
“Scientology, sweetheart.”
“That’s it. The Church of Scientology. Well, I can categorically tell you, Mister?”
“Ori, Dad.”
“Mister Ori. We don’t have the kind of money your people require to join your little space club.”
“We desire no recompense. I come bearing gifts.”
“Yeah, heard that one before, ain’t we, Alice.”
“Uh huh,” Alice concurred. “Like that time Waylon Huckstable down at the bank, offered us an interest-free loan that needed to be paid back before we could afford to. Then, the bank added twenty percent interest compounded daily. It was about all we could do to pay it off before it ruined us.”
“Don’t no-one get somethin’ for nuthin’ in this life,” Ray added. “There’s always a price to pay. We may live in the backwoods of Tennessee, Mister, but we’ve got the Internet now, and we read a lot of its free knowledge on that there Wikipedia web site. So, we ain’t no fools.”
“Cept, it ain’t free, is it, Hun. We still have to pay for access to it.”
“Fair point,” Ray agreed.
“Yeah,” Dinky interjected. “My daddy has to pay for some of the things he likes to read on the Innernet. Specially, that one called Hooters, Hooters, and More.”
“Dinky, that’s not what I’m talking about, and you shouldn’t be spying on people.”
“Ray?” Alice’s one-word chastisement made its point.”
“He didn’t see anything bad.”
“You know I don’t tolerate cussing and immoral behaviour in this house.”
“Come on, Alice! You ain’t with the Baptists no more. Free your mind.”
“Earth Woman, you would be wise to listen to your leader,” the stranger advised.
“Listen, Mister. He ain’t my leader. He’s just my Hornery husband and nuthin’ else.”
“But I was led to believe that…”
“Who said he was my leader?” Alice defiantly asked.
Without replying, the stranger turned to look at Dinky, then stretched a very long index finger in his direction.
“Shucks, Mister Ori,” Ray half-apologised. “He’s only seven years old. That’s a very impressionable age, and Dinky here is like a sponge soaking up information without processing it. Everything just gets thrown into whatever bucket he wants to fill. He then interprets it with the minimum of experience and with hardly any knowledge to make any real sense out of it.”
“If that is what you Earth people call an analogy,” the stranger derided. “It fell several parsecs short of the planet Logic.”
Trying to decipher the stranger’s criticism that bore an alien style of facetiousness, Ray felt a pang of impertinence course through him.
“Where you from, Mister?”
“Now that I have discovered you are not whom I seek,” the stranger’s dismissive reply rang out. “I am bound by intergalactic code to offer no further information until you take me to your leader.”
“I work for myself,” Ray adamantly pointed out. “I am my own boss. I lead myself and I am led by myself.”
“It is contradictory terminology to be your own leader,” the stranger emphasised. “The Proletariat must have guidance. It is a universal understanding.”
Ray paused a moment, searching his head for the unfamiliar word just mentioned. With raised eyebrows asking Alice for a little help, Ray was enthusiastically enlightened.
“He means, the working class, Ray,” Alice nudged. “I think he’s a Socialist.”
“What religion is that?” Ray ignorantly asked.
“It ain’t no religion, Ray. It’s a movement. A kind of downtrodden and repressed social class of people who have lost faith in their leadership, and struggle to find a way out of their oppressed predicament.”
“Your female cook displays wisdom beyond her menial position in your small kingdom,” the stranger opined.
“Yeah,” Ray proudly agreed. “She’s a college girl with two years of sociology under her belt. Had to drop out early due to getting in the family way. Heck, it was either baby or education, weren’t it, Alice.”
“Uh huh. This cook got brains, Mister,” she defiantly stated, prompting Ray to bring the explanation to a close.
“We just couldn’t afford both.”
“Poverty does not exist amongst my people,” the stranger boasted.
“Yeah?” Ray belligerently snapped back. “Then, you must be from another planet, coz it’s a way of life among our people, bub!”
“But that is why I am here,” the stranger insisted. “I bring the knowledge to end misery and suffering and…”
“…and you’re beginning to sound like one of them-there preacher men. Did you not see the sign on the door?”
The stranger turned to Dinky for a sign of affirmation – that came in the mimicking gesture of Dinky pointing an index finger at the front door.
Curious as to Ray’s double-negative question, the stranger glided over to the door like a skater on ice, smooth and without modulation, to read the small notice pinned above the door knocker.
“I see a written scroll in a script unlike any other I have witnessed since the advent of hieroglyphics,” the stranger pointed out. “What is this language?”
“It’s American, Ori,” Dinky’s clarification shouted out.
“It looks like sanskrit scribble,” the stranger critiqued.
“I’ve always said, my Ray has got doctors writing,” Alice explained.
“I spend so much time sending emails and texts,” Ray clarified. “That my fingers have forgotten how to write cursively,” he sheepishly explained – embarrassed by his identified shortcoming.
“Translate, please.”
Joining the stranger at the door, Ray read the note.
“It says, No salesmen, No canvassers, and strictly No religion on threat of insult.”
“I am none of those. I am a messenger. An apostle of redemptive technology. I bring forth great news.”
“You keep sayin that, Mister. But you ain’t volunteering anything more than promises.”
“It is only for your leaders to hold the knowledge of power.”
“But knowledge in the wrong hands can corrupt,” Alice pointed out. “Plus, this is just one country society in a variety of social structures, that make up a nation, that belongs to a group of like-minded nations – that make up a global family of cultures, that we all call home.”
“Yeah, that’s right, Hun. We’re just one big global village of similar ilk,” Ray added. “So, if you need to pass on this groundbreaking knowledge, then it must be shared with all the world’s leaders. Not just one. That’d be dangerous.”
“You have more than one leader?” The stranger obliviously asked.
“Heck, Bub. What rock have you climbed out from under? Every country has a leader.”
“But there must only be one supreme leader,” the stranger argued. “It is what our system needs to work perfectly.”
“Then, it is a flawed system, Mister,” Alice’s evaluation dented the stranger’s enthusiasm.
“Yeah,” added Ray. “And if it’s flawed, no-one will be interested in listening to you. But you know who will? All those trees out there in the woods,” he chuckled – like a dismissive country hick laughing at his own joke. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’ve got things to do, so…”
Attempting to guide the stranger to the front door, the mention of trees that listen, tweaked his interest.
“Trees? But are they not just mere inanimate limbs of the Earth? How do they communicate?”
Like a lightbulb suddenly switching on inside Dinky’s head, a trigger word compelled him to speak out.
“My teacher at school, Mrs. Updike, says trees are living beings and that they listen all the time for pollution to eat. She says without trees, we would choke, because we’d have no air to breathe, and that trees have been here long before us. Mrs. Uptight says….”
“James…” Alice’s displeasure at any form of bullying, strictly corrected him.
“Mom, that’s what everyone calls her – including Principal Jones.”
“I find that hard to believe but go on.”
“My teacher… okay?”
“That’s fine.”
“…Says that trees and plants like it when we talk to them. It stim-lates em’ into growth, is what she says.”
“Fascinating,” the stranger pondered. “If trees are the pre-dawn of humankind, then they must hold a wealth of knowledge.”
Gliding out onto the front porch, the stranger bid the family farewell.
“It appears that I have taken up too much of your time already. I came in peace. I now leave in peace. Farewell, Ray and Alice, and small human that is known as Dinky on account of my size.”
Heading into a clump of local trees, the stranger illuminated an area with a bright beam of light hovering above his position.
“Is he comin’ back, Dad?”
“No, I reckon he’ll be busy out there for a while, son. Then, who knows. Peculiar fella. Seems a little lost in life. Poor guy.”
“Right,” exclaimed Alice. “Ray, did you get a pumpkin?”
“On the porch, Alice.”
“Well, you best get to carving it, then, while I get Dinky here into his costume.”
“Yeah? What are you gonna be this year, son?”
“Buzz Lightyear. To infinity and beyond!”
Stepping back into their house, Ray shut the door behind them, and had only taken a few steps, when the door knocker announced another visitor. Thinking it was the stranger returning, Dinky rushed to open the door, only to be disappointed by the sight of his school friend, Joey, standing at the door dressed as Batman.
“Trick or treat,” Joey recited. “Better get your costume on, Dinky. Don’t want the candy to be all gone. The old folks’ll be handing out pennies, and you can’t eat pennies.”
For a reflective moment, Dinky looked over to the woods, where a strange light hovered from tree to tree. He could just make out a voice repeating the same sentence to every tree that the light stopped at.
“Greetings,” it repeated. “We come in peace. Take me to your leader.”
Inviting Joey and his parents in, Dinky shut the door and rushed upstairs to put on his costume.
Later that evening – when candy collecting had turned into whimpers of sickly stomachs trying to digest the collective gorge of sugared delights, a light emerged from the woods illuminating the stranger gliding below it. As soon as he cleared the trees, he lifted his right arm and began speaking into it.
“This is Five Magger Orit to Mothership One. Do you read?”
“Report, Orit,” was the reply travelling through the airwaves.
“My initial efforts to find and communicate with any leadership on this planet,” the stranger continued. “Have failed to identify any office of singular leadership. This world is fragmented into insulated primitive conclaves of idealistic governance and is not ready to receive our gift of Utopian bliss. The only valuable information able to be gathered, has been from wooden appendages that bind this planet’s atmosphere and surface together. However, they possess no form of leadership, nor are they willing to bend in their responsibilities to the planet. It is my opinion that we postpone project Earth for one thousand more revolutions of this planet’s trajectory around its nearest star. Perhaps then, they will be ready to listen to what we have on offer.”
“Affirmative, Orit,” announced the voice. “We agree with your assessment and will consider your request. We now need you to proceed to Proxima Centauri b in the Alpha Centauri binary system, where there is a single-led society claiming to be all-knowing and all-forgiving.”
“That sounds like trouble,” the stranger’s concern beamed to the upper atmosphere.
“Affirmative. You need to investigate if that all-knowing claim has not fallen into the wrong hands, because…”
“…Knowledge in the wrong hands can corrupt,” the stranger unthinkingly quoted.
“Precisely, Orit. You are very wise.”
Remembering where he had heard that snippet of logic earlier, the stranger looked toward the quiet house where the small human and his family now lay sleeping. With a tinge of remorse, he pressed a button on his sleeve to activate his extraction from the planet.
“Goodbye, Dinky on account of my size.”
He felt an odd but familiar connection to the boy and his family, and for one blink of a parsec, he wondered if a one-thousand revolution wait was a bit over-exaggerated. However, before he could process that thought, a bright beam of light flashed from the sky and transported him off the planet, leaving a sleepy hollow in backwoods Tennessee to carry on evolving, and a small boy – soon to become a small grown man, to dream about Hooters.
“James Alabaster Murray! There’ll be no dreaming of hooters in this household.”
“Okay, Mom…”
“Now, go back to sleep!”
“Affirmative!”
What is so overrated about living in USA?
Owning a car.
In most of America it is more or less impossible to not own a car because there’s no public transport. For some reason that I don’t understand, some people love this.
There are people who make cars their whole personality. They own multiple cars, some of them classic cars that are expensive to own and expensive to maintain. (I actually do get this if you like working on cars, tinkering with stuff can be fun.)
There are also guys (they are mostly men) who buy expensive pickup trucks that get poor gas mileage. Just so they can drive it to their white collar job every day. In my experience, all of these guys will assure you that they use the bed all the time, but they literally never do.
The whole experience of owning a car is very overrated. They are an endless money hole. Gas is the least of your troubles, although that can add up too depending on what your commute is. They are expensive to buy and even after you pay off the car loan, you have to pay insurance and for regular maintenance.
But in most of America, you don’t really have a choice. You need a car, often you need two per household.
Rockwell art selection
What facts about Japan prove that the country is on another level?
In Japan there are subways with carriages just for women.
The Japanese soccer team left the locker room like this after defeating Germany in the World Cup. Perfect!
In Japan, if you need help at a train station, an employee will appear from an unexpected place to help you.
The train seats move so you can enjoy the view.
Manhole covers in Japan are works of art.
Airline employees apologizing for flight delay.
The cherry trees.
Bullet trains are so smooth that these objects don’t even move during the journey.
Key Recession Signal Flashing RED
A key recession signal is flashing red:
US construction spending fell -2.8% Year-Over-Year in July, one of the biggest drops since the 2008 Financial Crisis. This also marks the 6th consecutive monthly decline.
Month-over-month, construction spending has declined in 10 out of the last 11 months, the longest streak in 15 years.
Over the last 50 years, such a sustained decrease in construction expenditures has occurred only during recessions, except in 2018.
Meanwhile, construction employment has fallen for 3 consecutive months, the longest streak since 2012.
What is happening with construction? The failure of the Federal Reserve to lower key Interest Rates.
For MONTHS, Fed Chairman Jerome Powell has flatly refused repeated suggestions from the President to lower Interest rates. It seems to many people that Powell, and several Governors on the Federal Reserve Board, are intentionally sabotaging the economy, to harm Trump, politically.
The information above is tied directly to what the Federal Reserve has been doing. High Interest rates make it too expensive for people to buy houses. Houses get built, but people can’t afford to buy them.
So construction on new houses has to stop, because houses aren’t selling.
It’s that simple.
This trouble is caused by the Federal Reserve. Intentionally.
Maybe the Governors on the Federal Reserve should be reminded that the general public can retaliate against them, personally and directly. People can show up at their homes and protest; that would make these Federal Reserve Governors REAL popular with their uber rich neighbors in their ritzy neighborhoods!
Protests at all hours of the day and night would do wonders for property values in those rich neighborhoods, too.
One wonders how those wealthy neighbors would react if busloads of protesters start showing up on their block because a neighbor, who happens to be a saboteur on the Federal Reserve Board of Governors, is misusing his official position, to make a political decision?
Yes, I bet those Federal Reserve Governors would be real popular when all their neighbors can’t sleep because of the noisy protesters, can’t get in or out of their driveways, or even drive up to their own homes, because thousands of protesters are all over their neighborhoods.
Grilled Texas 1011 Meat Kabobs
Ingredients
Marinade
- 1/4 cup diced Texas 1011 onions
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 2/3 cup red wine vinegar
- 1/2 teaspoon thyme
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1/2 teaspoon dry mustard
- 1 tablespoon soy sauce
- 1/2 teaspoon pepper
Kabobs
- 1 pound beef, chicken or shrimp
- 3 medium Texas 1011 onions, quartered
- 1 zucchini squash, sliced
- 1 yellow squash, sliced
- 2 medium green or red bell peppers, cut into pieces
- 6 cherry tomatoes
Instructions
Marinade
- Mix all marinade ingredients in a bowl, reserve some for basting in a smaller bowl.
Kabobs
- Slice beef or chicken into bite-size pieces.
- Place beef, chicken or shrimp in large bowl of marinade and refrigerate for 2 to 4 hours.
- Remove beef, chicken or shrimp from marinade.
- Place all vegetables and meat on skewers, alternating colors.
- Grill beef for 12 to 15 minutes, chicken for 15 to 20 minutes and shrimp for 6 to 8 minutes.
- Turn and baste kabobs frequently with reserve marinade.
- Serve on a bed of rice.
Why are toilets clogged on Air India flights?
Sabotage!!!
I mean come on!!!!
I know Indians are a bit lax on hygiene but by God, to clog toilets with polythene bags and cloth
We are not INSANE nor are we 3 years old!!!!!!
This is definitely sabotage by handpicking passengers to deliberately clog the toilets and cause an Embarrassment to both Air India and India
This isn’t a conspiracy theory
I can understand sub par food, rude air hostesses, incompetent bungling with seating and a host of other issues that Air India may have
This is Impossible
No passenger is insane enough to flush down so many bags of polythene down 8 of the 12 toilets
Not unless they were carrying a ton of drugs and needed to stash away the evidence
This can’t be anything but it’s deliberate
The question is who would do such a thing?
It isn’t that tough
Pay 20–30 passengers $ 2000 a head plus a ticket to clog the toilets
Thats $ 150,000 for some serious humiliation and shame
This was covered by most of the International Media who mocked our space achievement immediately after this news
Daily Sir Whiskerton story in each of these few days are match in some degree with my route even before I read it.
Now, I’m learning the way of “neighbor-connect” with this and the other worldline templates in parts degree. This is the new things I found from some of things what I’m feel comfortable with / used to…, but not general for most of the other people (exist). Then I read today Sir Whiskerton story.
It’s hard, I’m trying to find out from what I left to me, and forward to new ability.
I’m sitll in the classes of Affirmation Campaigns. About the tell-tales, I’m used to use it, but not in affirmation campaign. I didn’t do the way as the affirmation campaign as what MM said in video. In some degree, that I think I found MM’s website is the tell-tale. About the other tell-tale this year, such like “change the name to Department of War”, and the bigger is 東風61, which I see it on screen even just few days after I notice the means of numbers and change them to 61 and the others. Then I found the new ability, though I’m not sure how to use it well yet.
About the basic quantum（量子）of world, I named it the new term as 量極, and the empty as which is not… nothing, as 量基.
Not confirmed yet. 「量基」成極為「量極」，量極組成我們所經歷的一切；量基形同空白，沒有東西，但不是什麼都沒有，只是我們完全把它忽略。
But「量極」has same sounds as「量級」, maybe I’ll change it to the other term, or not.
I remember eagerly waiting every day for the end of school, in the very early eighties, to see my mom, hoping that she had bought me the Matchbox car that I really really wanted. It seemed like it took weeks!
I’m not sure what it was. Some American sedan, I think, that was a brown/golden metallic colour. I’ve tried looking it up but no luck..
I had some awesome larger ones in the seventies. Lots of cool metal toys, space ships etc. Metal doesn’t seem to be very common now. My younger brother has a huge steel Tonka Knight Rider Kitt which proved to be indestructible, which is saying something for him!
That Kitt my bro had: Probably buried somewhere these days!