To Serve and Protect - sheriff undernourishes inmates, pockets difference
Somebody's Watching You - CCTV cameras used to provide 'evidence' against diners who complained
Fingerache - kid sends 14,528 text messages in one month
On this day in history: January 12, 1928 - Murderer Ruth Snyder executed in the Electric Chair at Ossining. Photographer Thomas Howard catches the moment of death with a camera secretly strapped to his ankle, and the photo runs on the front page of the New York Daily News.
Born on this day in history: January 12, 1876 - Jack London (1876-1916) (born Jan. 12, 1876, San Francisco, CA, U.S.—died Nov. 22, 1916, Glen Ellen, CA) American novelist and short-story writer whose works deal romantically with elemental struggles for survival. He is one of the most extensively translated of American authors.
Scripture of the Day: Worship the LORD with gladness; come before him with joyful songs. — Psalm 100:2
Video of the Day: Gadget Orchestra with RockStar - submitted by Darin
Brrr. It is -76° in Alaska. All I can say is, "Brrr"! Click to enlarge.
It was 76° yesterday at 4 PM, as I grilled chicken wings! The exterior temperature sensor in Mr. Nitro showed 60° at 6:45 AM, as I drove to my office. I very nearly wore shorts this morning. I am relatively certain I shall soon wish that I had!
I relived an experience I had many years ago while sleeping last night: My rock band was playing a wedding reception in the backyard of the bride's parents' home in Chico. The band took a break, and I sauntered to the bar to get a beverage. I espied a comely young lady standing at the bar. One of the three bartenders—a pleasant young man of about 25—was making a drink for her. He was pouring from a bottle of Bacardi Gold. I turned to the young lady and said, "Are you aware of the significance of the bats on the Bacardi bottle?" "Why no," she said. She appeared very interested, so I continued, "Rum is a distillate of the sap of the Puerto Rican acacia tree. The Puerto Rican acacia tree is the favorite roost of the Puerto Rican fruit bat." "How cool," she said.
Over the years, I have often rued this meeting—wishing that I had confessed to her that my story was meant simply to entertain and bore no validity. I did not, however, and sincerely hope that she did not suffer unduly as a result of my telling of the tale.
