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It's time for "random Christmas facts that made Oto giggle while trying to finish his take-home final in a mythology class"!
- The "NORAD Tracks Santa" tradition began when a 1955 Sears ad misprinted a phone number for calls to Santa. Calls were instead directed to NORAD, and the commander on duty at the time began telling children that there were signs on the radar of St. Nick having left the North Pole.
- Also, instead of milk, kids in Ireland would occasionally leave Santa Claus a Guinness. Nice.
- The "NORAD Tracks Santa" tradition began when a 1955 Sears ad misprinted a phone number for calls to Santa. Calls were instead directed to NORAD, and the commander on duty at the time began telling children that there were signs on the radar of St. Nick having left the North Pole.
- Also, instead of milk, kids in Ireland would occasionally leave Santa Claus a Guinness. Nice.
Australian kids leave a frosty beer because it's normally 25degrees celcius or more by Christmas time.
This New England state has no cities with a population of 40,000 or greater.
naughty_geodude: BUZZ
naughty_geodude: Montana
naughty_geodude: BUZZ
naughty_geodude: Montana
Detective Jack Jackson flicks his cigarette onto the sidewalk as he steps into the dingy motel room. His fedora shadows the creases of his face - hard creases from a hard life. His trenchcoat reeks of cheap bourbon and cigars.
"Pretty gruesome, hey Jack?"
Jimmy the photog. Jack grunted, "I've seen murders in Chicago, Boston and New York, and I can say without hyperbole that this is a million times worse."
Jimmy takes another shot, the flash blinding Jack's eyes momentarily as the whir of the camera briefly mutes the din at the scene.
It was a gruesome sight - blood spattered along the walls and the ceiling, the harlot's neck cocked at an impossible angle, and poor BLANK, lying in a heap on the floor, throat slashed, multiple stab wounds to the abdomen, and at least three broken fingers and a nose.
"Hey, isn't that Mr. BLANK, from the investment firm on 4th and Main? You think someone offed him for losing all their money? And what's he doing with that hooker?"
"Her name's Betty," said Jack.
"You know her?"
"Shut up Jimmy."
Jack thumps another menthol from his pack. The flare of the match briefly illuminates his face. He takes a long drag.
"What the hell is this town coming to?"
"Pretty gruesome, hey Jack?"
Jimmy the photog. Jack grunted, "I've seen murders in Chicago, Boston and New York, and I can say without hyperbole that this is a million times worse."
Jimmy takes another shot, the flash blinding Jack's eyes momentarily as the whir of the camera briefly mutes the din at the scene.
It was a gruesome sight - blood spattered along the walls and the ceiling, the harlot's neck cocked at an impossible angle, and poor BLANK, lying in a heap on the floor, throat slashed, multiple stab wounds to the abdomen, and at least three broken fingers and a nose.
"Hey, isn't that Mr. BLANK, from the investment firm on 4th and Main? You think someone offed him for losing all their money? And what's he doing with that hooker?"
"Her name's Betty," said Jack.
"You know her?"
"Shut up Jimmy."
Jack thumps another menthol from his pack. The flare of the match briefly illuminates his face. He takes a long drag.
"What the hell is this town coming to?"
After getting back on a regiment of pain killers every 4 to 6 hours for the past couple of weeks, my system finally seems to be getting to the point where they actually have an effect. It is strange though, because the 15 minute kick in to three and a half hour peak schedule doesn't really seem to apply. I've had a couple of instances where I took something, didn't feel any effect, skipped the next dose and THEN finally noticed that "ugh" feeling in my head that indicates my opiod receptors are seeing some chemical traffic.
I really haven't missed this in the years since the last time I had to be this heavily medicated. For me, it is like having a bout of severe depression (general sluggishness, not really caring about anything, not wanting to get out of bed on those rare occasions I can actually get into bed in the first place), but being moderately happy about it... if that makes any sense.
At least it blunts the pain enough, every now and then, for me to get some therapy in, and to work. The only thing is it makes me feel about as creative as a retarded stone, so certain projects of mine have noticeably suffered for it.
I really haven't missed this in the years since the last time I had to be this heavily medicated. For me, it is like having a bout of severe depression (general sluggishness, not really caring about anything, not wanting to get out of bed on those rare occasions I can actually get into bed in the first place), but being moderately happy about it... if that makes any sense.
At least it blunts the pain enough, every now and then, for me to get some therapy in, and to work. The only thing is it makes me feel about as creative as a retarded stone, so certain projects of mine have noticeably suffered for it.
Killer Wolf
After getting back on a regiment of pain killers every 4 to 6 hours for the past couple of weeks, my system finally seems to be getting to the point where they actually have an effect.
I wish I could do a regiment of soldiers every 4-6 hours. Supervillains like to keep their men happy, y'know? ;O
author=Dudesoft
I'll see yourauthor=Otokonokoand raise you
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DOUBLE OR NOTHING BWA HA HA!
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