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A Tale of Postal Pandemonium, Apian Fashion, and the Day the Chickens Became Bees

I remember being a kid in the 1960’s.

I want to relate an event that happened around 1966 give or take.

At that time, the big group that all us kids listened to was “The Monkeys” and they had numerous hits.  Their top hits were…

  • “Last Train to Clarksville” (1966)
  • “I’m a Believer” (1966)
  • “Daydream Believer” (1967)

So imagine our happy surprise when we discovered that our cereal boxes had the song on a plastic 45 record attached (glued on) to the box!

All of us kids wanted to eat that cereal. I don’t remember which cereal. Maybe by Kellogg ‘ s or Post.

This is what Gemini AI has to say about this event…

You’re likely thinking about a promotion by Post Cereals in 1970, not the 1960s. While The Monkees were very popular in the late 1960s, the cereal box record promotion happened a bit later.

Here’s what we know about this event:

  • Cereal Brand: Post Cereals.
  • Year: 1970.
  • The Promotion: Post Cereals released a series of four singles featuring The Monkees. These weren’t inside the box, but rather printed directly onto the side of the cereal boxes.
  • Format: These were cardboard records, also known as flexi-discs, designed to be cut out and played on a record player.
  • Songs: The four songs featured in this promotion were:
  • “Last Train to Clarksville”
  • “Words” (Previously Unreleased TV Mix)
  • “I Never Thought It Peculiar” (Previously Unreleased TV Mix)
  • “Valleri” (Previously Unreleased TV Mix)

These cereal box records are now considered collectible items for Monkees fans and those interested in pop culture memorabilia. While the sound quality wasn’t the best, they were a fun and innovative way to promote The Monkees to a younger audience who likely watched their show on Saturday mornings at the time.

It’s interesting to note that Kellogg’s, another major cereal brand, was actually one of the original sponsors of The Monkees’ TV show on NBC in the 1960s. However, the cereal box record promotion was undertaken by their competitor, Post Cereals, in 1970.

And now you know.

So … soon after shopping every house on the street was playing that song. It was surreal.

And that is my daily recount from 1970.

LOL. Today…

Once upon a time (Alcuinese for back in the 1990s) I was part of the team responsible for NHS policy on treatment for overseas visitors. The assumption was that anyone who was not a British resident, an EU national resident in the EU or from a large number of countries with which the UK had reciprocal healthcare agreements was supposed to pay.

But there were exceptions all for very good reasons: people with plague for example or people who had been sectioned under the mental health act. One of those exceptions was people being given emergency treatment in an Accident and Emergency Department (which is British for emergency room).

So there’s the answer. This particular treatment is free at the point of need. The very good reason is this. If somebody has a horrible transmissible disease such as Lassa Fever or Ebola, we don’t want anybody refusing to go to hospital simply because they’re afraid they might have to pay. Similarly, if someone is badly injured in an accident, we don’t want people bleeding out in a back room somewhere when we can treat them, get them well, send them home and so on.

With the present mess the world is in, I thought some of you might be interested in what I’m thinking about.

I think that Trump is putting the US on a dramatic debt reduction plan. The problem is that the debt reduction won’t come from the places he is planning for it to come from, such as China and the US’s trading partners. Instead, the debt reduction is likely to come from US household consumer spending, which will inflict huge pain on most Americans, since they have been told that the US is the best country and society in the world, and will learn that is NOT true.

I also think that AI is going to hit white-collar jobs dramatically, and especially the large US consulting firms, which will start laying off workers and replacing many of their data-crunching jobs with AI. I expect to see a lot of recent MBA grads who can’t find work, even though they have excellent qualifications.

Basically, the combination of AI and economic restructuring will mean that when it comes to consulting, there will be new new, very small consulting firms which will start to rise and attract attention for their work. Why? Because the big firms in the US are like dinosaurs when the meteor hit; they cannot adapt to the new environment.

Small firms will rise to replace them, and the big firms cannot adapt because their costs and fee structure cannot adapt to much tougher times.

The name for this meteor who hit the US is Donald J. Trump.

The center for world innovation and markets will be Asia, with the exception of India. India will never change because it is stuck where it has always been. Indians will lose the avenue of emigrating to the US and Europe because those places have problems.

China is paving the way for the ASEAN countries by showing what can be done in infrastructure and technology development.

China will grow and develop, but at a slower pace than the Chinese government would like. Many Chinese will move to the countryside and become hi-tech farmers living modestly off the land.

BRICS+ and BRI will develop. Russia will continue to develop. Western Europe will have trouble adapting to lower expectations in a hostile world. Central and Eastern Europe will continue to distract their people by supporting ethnic and religious hatred, just as they always have.

I think that there are many opportunities to adapt, and to do new things in this new chaotic world. But in order to survive, one must reject the old and be willing to adapt.

I am thinking of setting up a Discord server if enough people are interested in discussion. Let me know in the comments.

Overheard Girlfriend Telling Friends The Size Of My “Package”, Throws TANTRUM When I Kick Them Out

I am Chinese and know very little about American politics, economy, and history.

But I feel that Trump’s tariff war might be a misstep.

What he’s doing now somewhat resembles what President Hoover did in 1929, and we all know what happened afterward.

Personally, I quite like Trump and think he’s very patriotic, but now I have some doubts.

Because for a politician, mistakes are the greatest sin.

I used to think highly of him; his credentials are impressive: he graduated from the New York Military Academy and the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania.

But once, during a meeting with the Japanese Prime Minister, the Japanese Prime Minister brought up the Russo-Japanese War (February 8, 1904 – September 5, 1905).

He foolishly asked, “Who won in the end?”

(A still from a Japan film: An extremely bloody battle fought on Chinese soil during the Russo-Japanese War. Japan emerged victorious and massacred all the Chinese civilians in the city(only 36 people survived). In fact, it had nothing to do with the Chinese; they were simply driven by a beastly thirst for bloody vengeance—unable to invade Russian territory, they slaughtered innocent Chinese civilians instead.)

My God, you’re in charge of the most powerful country in the world, and you don’t even know about a major historical event that any ordinary person should be aware of?

I’m just an average person, with a science and engineering background, and I know the ins and outs of that war (though perhaps because Japan and Russia are neighboring countries to China), but you’re the President of the United States… unbelievable!

Secondly, his tariff war made a huge mistake: it’s a war on all fronts.

Although I’m Chinese, from America’s perspective, it should focus solely on how to suppress China. Why bully your own allies?

Comrade Mao Zedong once said (paraphrasing): The only secret to military struggle is to concentrate your forces, defeat your enemies one by one, and absolutely avoid fighting on two fronts. We can talk big and say we’ll fight on two, three, four, five, six, seven, or eight fronts, but in reality, you JUST can’t fight on two fronts!

But Trump isn’t just fighting on two fronts—he’s declared war on the entire world.

Comrade Mao also said: Politics is about making as many friends as possible and as few enemies as possible.

Trump’s strategy clearly goes against this principle.

Let me give an example: the most anti-China region in the world is Taiwan Province, which is sad but true.

Yet today, I saw on a Taiwanese anti-China BBS that there were actually a ton of pro-mainland comments…

(This forum’s interface is so rudimentary that people from the mainland usually call it the “Hell Forum.”)

It’s simply unimaginable.

But it’s a fact.

Because Trump imposed high tariffs on Taiwan Province too and moved TSMC to the U.S. mainland.

This is a very wrong move.

Today, the CPC, in a very rare move, decisively launched tariff retaliation, which is unusual for such an extremely cautious ruling party.

This is a shrewd and calculating elite party.

I often say: When the CCP sets its mind to something, it has a 90% chance of succeeding.

Based on my trust in the CCP, I think Trump might face a Waterloo this time.

St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake

St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake recipe comes from Rozanek’s Bakery, St. Louis, Missouri. This bakery has been in business for over 60 years.

St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake

Ingredients

  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 3 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • 1/3 cup butter
  • 1 1/4 cups granulated sugar
  • 3/4 cup butter
  • 1/4 cup light corn syrup
  • 1 egg
  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 2/3 cup evaporated milk
  • Confectioners’ sugar

Instructions

Cake

  1. In a mixing bowl, combine 1 cup flour and 3 tablespoons sugar.
  2. Cut in 1/3 cup butter until mixture resembles fine crumbs and starts to cling.
  3. Use a flat bottom measuring cup to pat into the bottom of a 9 inch square baking pan.

Filling

  1. In the mixing bowl, beat the 1 1/4 cups sugar and 3/4 cup butter or butter until combined.
  2. Beat in the corn syrup and egg until just combined.
  3. Add the 1 cup flour and evaporated milk alternately to the mixing bowl, beating until just combined (batter will appear slightly curdled).
  4. Pour into the crust-lined baking pan.
  5. Bake at 350 degrees F for about 35 minutes or until cake is nearly firm when you shake it. It should jiggle slightly in the center
  6. Let cool in pan on wire rack.
  7. Remove to serving plate.
  8. Sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar.

Mostly it’s not understanding the business environment and making fundamental mistakes in a new market.

Walmart came into China with big bang. But how can you convince Chinese buyers to buy products that can be bought locally for much less. Some of their early staff figured out how to do Walmart en masse. So for every location Walmart opens,they open then. They understand the power of speed and scale.

KFC and McDonald’s. KFC locations earn 2–3 times what a McDonald’s location does. Senior management at KFC is local and adapted the menu to local tastes. McDonald’s did not. They are trying to do that now,but it’s too little, too late.

GM and Ford printed huge profits in China for years. Then EVs came. Chinese EVs became dominant players and GM and Ford had no offerings. So sales went way down.

Proctor and gamble were first in the shampoo business. Two of their brands were in the top five. But a local competitor Slek came out of nowhere and took a big chunk of market share.

Starbucks. Again big splash. Locations at the Great Wall and Forbidden city. Until Luckin coffee came. All orders are digital and prices are US$1.50–2.00. And you would be impressed that Starbucks has 7000 locations in China. Until you see Luckin has 22,000.. Locations and scale.

Chinese competitors move very fast and know how to scale fast.

I’ve done consulting for companies entering the China market and my first advice is “You might be big in Baltimore but nothing in Beijing.”

Every business entering a new market needs to have a start up mentality. You don’t know what you’re doing and doing what you did back home may not work.

One Sip Trip

Written in response to: Set your story in a café, garden, or restaurant.

Patrick Druid

One Sip Trip.I stepped off the bus in the middle of town, and got totally soaked by the rain. I tried to shelter myself with the magazine I was reading, but it didn’t help much, so I rushed across the busy, 5 line street to find an awning.The cars honked at me as I sprinted.”Yeah, I know you don’t like me!, I said to them.  I doubt that they could here me in this downpour and I really didn’t care if they did.I had a really hard day at the office today as they say. The boss pulled a bunch of us into a conference and started the usual drone about “making the numbers” and that we would be all out of job, if we didn’t make the numbers.I could feel all of the eyes of the room settling on me as if I had something to do with it. Somebody had to be blamed, I guess and I was it….again! I could never catch a break no matter how hard I tried. The rain really topped of my bad day like the cherry on a banana split. Perfect.I shook my head as I continued to shiver from the rain under the awning of a cafe.”Hey, why don’t you come on in and get warm?” , a voice said.I turned around and saw a blonde woman in her thirties or so, giving me a smile that could light up a room, and her voice had all the home style charm of a freshly baked cookie.I followed her into her cafe. As soon as I walked through the door, I felt the rush of warm air and a smell of cinnamon. I saw two comfortable chairs and small table in front of a fireplace, so I made a beeline for the closest one and sat down.  The chair felt so good, it almost felt like it hugged me.I looked around for a little bit and then I looked back towards the counter where the barista was making a hot drink. I suddenly felt embarrassed that I had sat down on this chair while still being wet and my face fell

“I’m so sorry. I got this chair all wet!”

Again, she smiled at me. “Don’t you worry about it, hun! You’re all cold and wet and you need something warm in you. Here’s a cuppa my finest for ya on the house!”

She placed the cup and saucer on the little side table. I saw the steam rising from the hot reddish liquid inside. As much as I tried to resist the urge to wait to take a sip, I felt strangely drawn to this drink as the scent of apples filled my head.

“Ya had a hard day, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said to her, then I looked up. “How can you tell?”

She laughed. “I’m psychic!”

“Pfft!”

She laughed again..”okay I’m not psychic. You came in wet and you were looking down at the ground most of the time.”.

“It’s just body language, that’s all. Nuthin special”

I nodded my head and took a sip of the drink and it reminded me of a mincemeat pie on Christmas night. I closed my eyes for a bit and just let gravity take me.

“It’s good, huh?”, she said to me softly almost in a barely perceptible whisper. “I made it just for you, hun!”

“Mmmmmmm..hmmmmm” I managed to say before the ambience finally lulled me into a much needed sleep. “Perhaps a few minutes shut eye here won’t hurt”, I said as I reached for the saucer and the cup.

Clouds

I saw clouds

I was sitting in a dusty field overlooking the Grand Canyon. It was dusk and the last rays were disappearing over the horizon. The air was crisp and dry.

I sighed and yawned deeply as I took in the view. I remember thinking that I should take a little trip here one day.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

“Yeah”, I said then frowned. Who was talking to me? I looked around and I didn’t see anyone.

“Wait , wait wait. Ssshh.” the female voice intoned softly. “It’s totally okay. ”

I continued to look around a bit but saw no one. “Who are you? Where are you?”

“Sorry to bother you but I have news and you’re not going to like it.”

I looked around again and shook my head. “You have news? I don’t even know who you are!”

The voice sighed for a moment and spoke again more quietly. “Who I am isn’t important. I am here to rescue you”

“What?!?”

“Let’s take a good look at your situation and you’ll see why you need me. For starters, you work in the sales department and your department is not meeting the designated numbers, right?”

I slowly nodded.

“Well most corporations by this time have discovered ways to sort of “trim” the ranks without causing too much fuss and attention.”

“Okay….” I said wondering where this was going.

“So..when the corporation decides to find a ‘sacrificial lamb’they make contact with her and set up a ‘meeting’. This way the avoid the termination papers, severance pay, etc

“Her?”

“That barista in the cafe.”

I shook my head at this. “Okay, so they send me to a barista or they send her to me. Weird but so what?” I shrugged my shoulders, or at least I thought I did. I suddenly felt a little cramped.

“Did you notice her name?”

“I think it was Latte or something”

“Starting to feel a little cramped? That means she is got you and we don’t have much time to get you out.”

“What? Get me out of what?”

“Do you trust us?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“What we’re about to do has never been tried before. We are going to try matter transference to get you out of there before your whole consciousness disappears but we have to wait until she has completely wrapped you for storage.”

My eyes went wide……

The voice continued its explanation. “ That tea gave you has a strong sedative and a narcotic, giving you that euphoria you felt.

“Then she wraps you up for safe keeping for awhile, to keep you fresh. Unfortunately, this process does cause the victim to suffocate… slowly.”

“Mmmmmmpppphhghhhhh!”

“Ooooh . Hang on…you’re almost totally wrapped up. When she leaves, we’ll transport your body out.”

I tried to speak but found that could barely get a sound out. I suddenly felt vibrations below me as if I was on a hammock or a rope bridge or.…….a web?

“Mmmmmmpppphhghhhhh!Mmmmmmpppphhghhhhh!!”

Then, I remembered glancing at the sign before I even walked in but it just didn’t register in my mind until now. It read

Lata’s Parlor. Latrodectus. The black widow spider.

“Okay”, the voice said again softly. “We’re almost ready to transport now. You might feel a tingling sensation for a moment.”

I screamed and screamed and screamed the muffled screams of a condemned man about to be taken to his doom. Then I did feel a slight tingling sensation across my chest. Could I be saved?

************

Epilogue

Morning shined down on the town as the businesses opened up for the day. The barista of Lata’s Parlor was sitting at an outside tables, reading a newspaper and sipping a cup of tea. She sighed. “Just the right blend of despair and hope!”

The sign outside read

“Come into Lata’s Parlor! I have just what you need!”

This is a very dangerous weapon.

Well, that is if you’re a TSA agent that has never seen one. And when I tried to explain what this is and what it’s used for, the agent freaked out when I turned it on! Agent thought it was a timer on an explosive! I maintained my composure as I asked the agent to call his supervisor. I’m not certain what he said but within 60 seconds, there was a half dozen folks came running up with airport security in tow. At this point, I was starting to lose my patients with the TSA ‘crew’ since they were adamant that I must be a terrorist with ‘new tech’ and I was detained just long enough to miss my connecting flight. I finally convinced the Airport Security Supervisor to call someone in aircraft maintenance (or the bomb squad) to verify that it was what I said it was and NOT an explosive. Eventually, they realized that they were not only wrong but that their ignorance made TSA look like total morons to everyone in the area. I just assumed that I couldn’t be the only one that ever went through security with a caliper …. I got the feeling that they thought I was deliberately trying to screw with them. Yet they didn’t care that I had a pen and pencil in my breast pocket (guess they never saw first John Wick movie).

Just glad that I didn’t have a digital tape measure!

EDIT – Thank you all for the your views & comments! At the time I felt like the TSA that I encountered had to be an exception, because there was NO way that this was the norm. Obviously (as your comments indicate) this was not an exception!

Wife Spent 17 Years Hiding The Truth About Her Male BF, Now She’ll Spend The Rest Of Her Life Single

Pictures

Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 3(29)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 3(29)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 2(31)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 1(30)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 0(31)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 4(28)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 5(30)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 6(31)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 7(28)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 7(28)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 6(30)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 6(30)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 0(30)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 0(30)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 3(28)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 2(30)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 1(29)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 0(29)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 0(29)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 4(27)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 5(29)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 5(29)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 6(29)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 7(27)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 5(28)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 0(28)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 1(28)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 2(29)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 3(27)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 7(26)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 6(28)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 5(27)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 4(26)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 0(27)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 3(26)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 2(28)
Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 2(28)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 1(27)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 0(26)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 4(25)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 5(26)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 7(25)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 6(27)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 6(26)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 7(24)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 4(24)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 3(25)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 6(25)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 5(25)
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Leonardo Anime XL A hilarious and heartwarming Studio Ghiblist 1(26)

Sir Whiskerton and the Case of the Overqualified Mailman

A Tale of Postal Pandemonium, Apian Fashion, and the Day the Chickens Became Bees


Chapter 1: A Delivery Most Fowl

The trouble began, as trouble often does, with Percy the Postman’s chronic inability to read labels.

The package in question—a suspiciously buzzing wooden crate stamped “DO NOT OPEN: CONTAINS BEES” in letters large enough to be seen from space—had been intended for Beekeeper Beatrice’s apiary. Instead, Percy, sweating through his uniform under the weight of nervousness and poor life choices, deposited it directly into Doris the Hen’s nesting box.

  • “Special… delivery,” Percy panted, tipping his hat before fleeing at speeds previously thought impossible for a man with “Knee Pain: 3/10” on his medical chart.

Doris eyed the crate.

  • “Oooooh,” she clucked, tapping the lid. “A mystery!”

Harriet and Lillian (Doris’s ever-loyal entourage) leaned in.

  • “It says not to open it,” Harriet pointed out.
  • “Not to!” Lillian echoed, already fetching a crowbar.

Doris waved a dismissive wing.

  • “Pish-posh! That’s just suggestion font!”

And with that, she pried the lid open.


Chapter 2: The Bees-ness of Being Doris

The instant the crate creaked ajar, three things happened in rapid succession:

  1. Four hundred very confused honeybees erupted into the coop like a striped, buzzing tornado.
  2. Doris, in a startling display of creativity, declared “We’re bees now!” and began fashioning costumes from straw and stolen button thread.
  3. Boris the Super-Skunk arrived at full hero velocity, cape flapping, shouting “FEAR NOT, CITIZENS! I SHALL NEUTRALIZE THE BEE MENACE!”

Sir Whiskerton, roused from his nap by the unholy sound of chickens attempting to buzz, arrived just in time to see:

  • Doris sporting antennae made of pipe cleaners.
  • Lillian fainting into a pollen-covered nesting box.
  • Boris preparing to “deploy countermeasures” (a.k.a. spray the bees).
  • “STOP,” Sir Whiskerton yowled, leaping between Boris and the hive. “You’ll gas the chickens!”

Boris paused.

  • “…That’s not ideal,” he admitted.

Chapter 3: Beekeeper Beatrice’s Bad Day

Beekeeper Beatrice arrived in a flurry of netting and despair, her bee smoker belching frantic puffs of lavender smoke.

The scene before her:

  • The Hens, now fully committed to their bee personas, bobbing from flower to flower (read: pecking at dandelions).
  • Boris, heroically offering to “flavor the honey with peppery zest.”
  • Sir Whiskerton, attempting to herd actual bees with a soup ladle.
  • “This is un-bee-lievable,” Beatrice sighed, pressing her hands to her temples.

Doris fluttered over (or rather, flapped awkwardly while humming).

  • “Behold, sister bee! We are buzzworthy now!” she announced, adjusting her “stinger” (a toothpick taped to her tail).

Beatrice stared.

  • “Those are honeybees. You’re chickens.”
  • “Allegedly,” Doris sniffed.

Chapter 4: The Resolution (With Extra Pollen)

The solution, as it turned out, was obvious:

  1. Bribery: A supreme offering of sugar water lured the bees back into their crate.
  2. Distraction: Boris redirected his spray ambitions toward “making the flowers extra spicy.”
  3. Fashion Intervention: Bessie the Tie-Dye Cow convinced Doris that “bee aesthetic is so last season” with a new line of “Moth Couture.”

As Beatrice hauled the bees away (shooting daggers at Percy, who was hiding in a mailbag), Sir Whiskerton delivered his final verdict:

  • “Let this be a lesson: Curiosity is fine—unless it unleashes insectoid chaos.”

Doris, now moth-winged and unrepentant, clucked:

  • “But look how fabulous we look!”

(Lillian, still pollen-drunk, hiccuped in agreement.)

Moral: Curiosity is great—unless it involves live insects (or Postal Workers Who Can’t Read).

The End.


Key Jokes:

  • “Un-bee-lievable” pun
  • Doris’ “buzzworthy” delusions
  • Boris’ “peppery zest” honey ambitions
  • Percy’s “Knee Pain: 3/10” sprinting

Starring: Percy (overqualified failure), Doris (bee-chicken visionary), Boris (overzealous skunk).

P.S. Beatrice now labels her hives “NOT FOR CHICKENS” in 48-point font. 🐝📦

Trump’s administration is in a game of chicken with China. We don’t know if any side will blink. China has said it will fight to the end.

I am not sure if this constitutes a psychological war. I rather think it is Trump’s swagger and shock that China would fight back so hard and without hesitation, contrary to his experience during his first term. He cannot accept that US is now weaker, and China is now stronger.

China’s fight back is tariffs + non-tariff sanctions.

The tariff rates from each side are very high, high enough to become meaningless.

China is prepared to decouple with the US. It is self-reliant on US tech. It has other sources of supply of agriculture and energy goods it imports from the US. It can easily do its foreign transactions without the use of the dollar. China is thus in a strong position

Trump is doing all the shootings, apparently without regard to consequences, including for the Americans, viz rising prices and shortages of goods. These will bite deeper and deeper with time.

The financial markets are in a turmoil. There are growing fears of recession amid the inflation and threatening towards stagflation. Neither the federal government nor the Fed has instruments to fight this.

So, it is truly a trade war between the 2 countries. For the US, it is the biggest part of its tariff war with the world.

China has also the advantage of national unity. It is being shot at and is seen as the good guy at home and abroad. The reverse is true for the US. There are reports of protests in several parts of the country.

Cheating Ex Girlfriend Suffers the Consequences

Nostalgia Cafe

Written in response to: Set your story in a café, garden, or restaurant.

Nick DeLarso

“Welcome to Nostalgia Cafe!” a gentle voice proclaimed as the front door had come to a close. The inside was immensely dystopian, though Steven shrugged aside the eerie forewarning. He approached the counter apprehensively, craning his neck in every-which direction.“I’m Steven Ross, with Blueprint Media. I’m here for the investigative piece regarding the spike in nostalgia intake.” Steven pressed his tote bag close to his waist, reaching inattentively with an attempt at removing a piece of identification from the front pocket. “I must’ve left it in the car, let me run and..-“The voice cut him off: “Oh yes, nice to meet you Steven; we’ve been expecting you, do not worry.” The voice was becoming, and she smiled incessantly as she spoke. “My name’s Desire, and I’ll be showing you around.”From his initial perspective, Steven saw dozens of people, enveloped inside of a small, cubicle-like space, attached to a device that cradled their skull, similar to a rugby helmet. They were motionless, radiated by a blue hue that barely illuminated the darkness, revealing a brief glimpse of their inanimate visages. Besides the conversation at the front desk, you could have heard a pin drop in the cafe. Steven removed a small notepad, immediately beginning to jot down some of his findings.“How long have you worked here?” Steven turned towards the employee, Desire, and attempted to exude some mirth.“Since the beginning. It’s a lovely work environment. Would you like to see one of the empty realms? I can explain how they work.”“Lead the way.” Steven trailed behind Desire, gently maneuvering through the tight spaces between the boxes. At a closer look, drool could be seen accumulating around the corner of the patron’s lips where a clear-feeding tube connected, to which his brow furrowed with an inquisitive glare. “Are these people conscious?” Steven spoke quietly, finally arriving at their destination.“You can call it that. Their bodily functions are still intact, they are just not present inside of this realm, if that makes sense. These neurocaps, as we call them, attach to the top of your skull. Of course, these are only compatible with the folks who have had the neuroconduit implant, which is a percentage that is gaining great traction every day. These caps, similar to bluetooth, have the ability to hijack your current consciousness, subjecting you to your fondest memories, or the fondest memories of others. As you might know, nostalgia is one of the greatest feelings known to mankind; it is essentially our brain recognizing the greatest and most memorable moments of our lifetime. This has ten-times the dopamine release as opium without the physical ailments that follow usage.” Desire did not budge from her smiling disposition during her explanation.“Interesting…” Steven was notating along with her spiel, underlining certain-important factors for later reporting. “So what you’re describing is essentially a drug, if I’m deciphering this correctly?”“We believe drug is a harsh term; this, as we see it, is a cure for the lack of excitement in modern life. It allows the youth to witness a world, free of technology’s grasp, ironically enough. When kids played outside, without the need for social media or others’ validations. Or even, someone living out their childhood dreams! I know it seems counterproductive, but as you and the rest of the world know, technology is not going anywhere. If this reality will not supply happiness to humanity, we will have to use the most powerful tool in the Universe: the brain.”Steven frowned momentarily, though his optimism had seemingly grown from its initial state of uncertainty with her response. “So you see this as a fix to the current state of life? Why not use this message to promote life outside of these helmets, rather than shackling the people to this technology? I know you said it’s not going anywhere, but there is always the margin for change.” Steven pressed the top of the pen against his lips, again studying some of the people hooked up to the cap.

“This Nation is no longer a Democracy, Steven. We have eclipsed that and have entered a Technocracy. The most powerful people on the planet own our search data, our health records; they’ve created algorithms for just about each individual on this planet and know how to affect our daily lives. They have discovered that our conscience is no more than a computer itself, with the ability to be hacked and structured in any way seen fit, especially if they’re in control of our gene structures and our conscious way of thought. We here are allowing individuals to use their brain and decide for themselves where their happiness lies—even if that is in someone else’s glory.”

Steven took a moment. Being thirty-five years old in the year 2030, he attempted to recollect his past before cell phones and the internet. It seemed foreign to even conclude that there was a time where people did not have a device attached to their hand, better yet their heads; but somehow, he remembered how bright the Sun used to shine on early mornings during Summer break; or the feeling of the brisk Fall, torpedoing through the Summer’s humidity on a random, late-September night as they awaited their parent’s voices to call them inside for dinner.

Most importantly, he reflected on his longing to become a Journalist as a child, watching the news with his Father, who was also a Journalist, and how he would critique their substandard reporting. It nearly brought a tear to his eye, finally materializing such a fantasy as his own. And there it was, just experienced in that paramount thought: nostalgia. How potent it was, forever just out of reach physically, but always nestled inside the warmest parts of our memory, ready to resurface in an instant at the most unexpected moment.

“How are you able to create these fond memories?” Steven began writing once again, in preparation for the response.

“Well, some people have the privilege to vividly remember a memory, like a movie; others, they write down a certain fragrance, or sound, or sentence—we’re able to take this data and create an exact match to what they’re pining for. If it doesn’t work initially, we will continue to attempt at creating this exact match. Once the match is made, the cap will sense that nostalgia is beginning to stimulate metabolic activity and blood flow in several regions of the brain, particularly the frontal, limbic, paralimbic, and midbrain areas. From here, the memory is projected into the brain; this data is downloaded into our servers, and the cycle of nostalgia is created for those who have never experienced these certain perspectives of life.”

Steven was flabbergasted, and his hands began to shake as he wrote the correspondence down. “How long do some of these people spend here?” He once again would gander abroad to all of the inhabited nooks.

“As long as needed. Some people, they never leave the benevolent loop of nostalgia. We’ve even seen people create new nostalgia within the neurocap. People who could never achieve their dreams; maybe they didn’t have the funds, or a tragedy struck. The inner-consciousness of the neurocap is expanding. It’s very exciting progress.” Desire responded candidly.

“That is pretty amazing. There must be a cost, no?” Steven’s pen moved within a serpentine, his hand sliding eloquently across the page.

“That’s the kicker: Nostalgia Cafe is a self-funding tool. As you opt to upload your own Nostalgia, you are generating Nostalgia Coins with your own brain’s energy! These can be used at any Nostalgia Cafe, worldwide. Nostalgia Coins can be converted into any of the prominent Cryptocurrencies. We are projected to become the largest within the next five-years at this pace.”

“Wouldn’t the financial aspect cause a bit of conflict with the intent? Couldn’t the creator simply lock people in, for financial gain? And how does one exit this concocted neuro-realm?” Steven’s tone was reticent, nearly rhetoric.

“The same way you’ve entered. All you must do is exit the Nostalgia Cafe. No one is forced to stay.” Desire’s response was ambiguous, though Steven did not retort. This was the first time her smile departed, but only for a second.

Steven felt the danger of this revolving door, essentially supplying your own means to disassociate from the current world; however, there was an enticing nature within this scientific discovery. He knew the reason he was sent here in the first place, to immerse himself into this newly-discovered world, head-first, as a respected Journalist. “I actually have the neuroconduit myself; many of us at Blueprint had received the chip initially, for faster data processing.” He looked over his notebook endearingly. “You know, it was always a dream of mine to be a Journalist—to get the chance to break-open a story, just like my Father—to really expose the truth.” There was an incessant memory that prodded at Steven’s attention span, though he tried to ignore it.

“Nostalgia awaits you, Steven.” Desire took a step aside, displaying the open space in its entirety.

Steven gulped at Desire’s words, followed by the racing of his heart. Steven took a step forward, grabbing hold of the chair to alleviate the wobbling of his legs. “I’m not sure, this sounds a bit..dangerous, no?”

“There’s no danger in the past.” Desire’s voice was stern.

Steven looked towards the front door, which was engulfed by a fog, distorting anything past the windowpane. “Weather seems nasty outside; I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try for a few minutes, for journalistic measures.” Steven sat down reluctantly, rubbing his hands along the arms of the leather chair. In his hands, he cupped the mechanism that would supply himself with endless elation; and that aforementioned memory, it was prying once again to be remembered, just before the helmet could be placed upon his skull.

“I’ll see you again, Steven. And thank you for your loyalty to Nostalgia Cafe.” Desire sauntered away from his space, still smiling.

“Wait a minute!” Steven stopped Desire in her tracks, to which she turned to face him once more. “I know you said all you have to do is leave; but how do you know you’re no longer in the actual realm?” Steven had a question mark and an asterisk next to this question.

“Once the memory is complete.” And she continued toward the front desk.

“Loyalty?”… Steven thought it odd she would allude to such, as this was his first visit; nonetheless, he continued as planned: Steven quickly placed the neurocap upon his head before he closed his eyes shut; then, he took a dozen or so deep breaths, to clear what was unnecessarily cluttered within his mind. It was only moments before he would return to that other realm of nostalgia, one filled with anachronistic promises and emancipation from a world of deceit.

“Welcome to Nostalgia Cafe!”

Wisconsin-Style French Onion Soup

While you might imagine French onion soup in a Parisian brasserie, Wisconsin-Style French Onion Soup is the ultimate at-home meal to soothe your worries and warm your soul from the inside. Stacked high with sweetly caramelized onions, crusty bread and piles of melted cheese, it’s hard to imagine anything better.

Wisconsin-Style French Onion Soup

Active time: 40 min | Yield: 8 servings, 1 cup each

Ingredients

  • 5 tablespoons butter, cubed and divided
  • 3 pounds medium onions, halved and thinly sliced
  • Salt and pepper
  • 1 teaspoon granulated sugar
  • 12 ounces lager beer
  • 4 cups (1 quart) beef broth
  • 8 ounces pretzel rolls, buns or bread, cubed
  • 10 ounces Blaser’s Mild Wisconsin Brick cheese, shredded (2 1/2 cups)

Instructions

  1. Melt 4 tablespoons butter in a Dutch oven over low heat. Add onions; cook, covered, for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.
  2. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in sugar. Cook, uncovered, over medium heat for 35 to 40 minutes or until onions are deep brown, stirring frequently.
  3. Gradually stir in beer; allow soup to boil. Reduce heat; simmer, uncovered, for 2 to 3 minutes.
  4. Stir in beef broth. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low. Simmer, uncovered, for 25 to 30 minutes longer or until broth is slightly reduced, stirring occasionally.
  5. Meanwhile, heat oven to 400 degrees F.
  6. Melt remaining 1 tablespoon butter; toss butter with pretzel bread on a 15 x 10 inch baking pan. Season with salt and pepper. Bake for 5 to 7 minutes or until bread is toasted, turning once.
  7. Ladle soup into eight ovenproof serving bowls. Top each with bread cubes; sprinkle with brick.
  8. Broil 3 to 4 inches from the heat for 2 to 3 minutes or until cheese is melted.

Notes

Brick cheese is a Wisconsin original. Traditional aged or German-style brick has a beige smear on its surface; the color darkens and flavor intensifies with age. Trimming the rind reduces its aroma and flavor.

  • Don’t try to “escape from a desert island” – you’ll almost certainly die before anyone finds you.
  • In Australia, there is no need to try to “identify or catch the snake that bit you” – antivenom is universal.
  • “Punching the biggest guy on your first day in prison” is not a good idea if you want to survive there.
  • If you are driving during a tornado warning, do not get out of your car and go to the side of an overpass to “hide under the bridge.” This myth was made popular by an amateur video of a man and his daughter hiding under an overpass, but the overpass they chose had an unusual design that provided them with protection. Wind speeds increase the closer you get to the ground, and the narrow passage creates a wind tunnel effect that can send any debris picked up by the tornado hurtling straight ahead at speeds of over 200 miles per hour.
  • If you are stranded on a desert island, it is not a good idea to “build a raft” and sail to civilization. You will probably never be found, or you will become so dehydrated that you will almost certainly die. You should stay on the island and be found alive.
  • If you get lost or your car breaks down, walk to a safe place. Stay in your car. People can always find your car, but that’s not always the case when you’re alone. Unless there’s an imminent danger, like a wildfire or flood, stay still. Walking around uses a lot of energy and puts you at higher risk of injury or even getting lost. Your car is a refuge and much easier for rescuers to find.
  • Do not drink “cactus water” – it is not drinkable and may cause vomiting and diarrhea, making you more dehydrated.
  • If you are truly suffering from diarrhea, it’s not just about “drinking water” – you will also lose a lot of salt and electrolytes, and if you don’t replenish them, it can be really serious.
  • “To find water, follow the birds.” They are flying everywhere.

It was on Tuesday, September 11, 2001, early in the morning in California. My wife called from Massachusetts (we were briefly bicoastal) and told me to turn on the TV. All channels were the same: videos of an airplane crashing into a tall building. The commentary said the plane was AA11. I felt my spine turn to jelly as I realized it was my flight.

I had to fly coast-to-coast from Logan to LAX and back a few times yearly. I always took AA11 West and AA12 East on Tuesdays, invariably, no matter what else was going on. At the last moment, as I was making my reservations, my wife convinced me to change to Saturday so my son would not be alone in California as much. I argued against the change, but you must know my wife to know I would lose that argument.

I still shudder as I recall that moment, seeing the flames burst from the building. I would have been among those cremated alive had my wife not decided that my son needed my company.

That was no bullet I dodged. It was a 14-inch projectile from a battleship.

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Greg

I don’t think you need a discord since people have to go thru the log in process. Just post your ideas here on your website and use the comment section for replies. I am looking for opportunities to adapt. I think Chinese style business would work in USA. Many new vending machine stores are popping up in my area and I assume that’s a Chinese company.

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