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It is my sincere desire to provide readers of this site with the best unbiased information available, and a forum where it can be discussed openly, as our Founders intended. But it is not easy nor inexpensive to do so, especially when those who wish to prevent us from making the truth known, attack us without mercy on all fronts on a daily basis. So each time you visit the site, I would ask that you consider the value that you receive and have received from The Burning Platform and the community of which you are a vital part. I can't do it all alone, and I need your help and support to keep it alive. Please consider contributing an amount commensurate to the value that you receive from this site and community, or even by becoming a sustaining supporter through periodic contributions. [Burning Platform LLC - PO Box 1520 Kulpsville, PA 19443] or Paypal
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To donate via Stripe, click here.
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Use promo code ILMF2, and save up to 66% on all MyPillow purchases. (The Burning Platform benefits when you use this promo code.)
It is my sincere desire to provide readers of this site with the best unbiased information available, and a forum where it can be discussed openly, as our Founders intended. But it is not easy nor inexpensive to do so, especially when those who wish to prevent us from making the truth known, attack us without mercy on all fronts on a daily basis. So each time you visit the site, I would ask that you consider the value that you receive and have received from The Burning Platform and the community of which you are a vital part. I can't do it all alone, and I need your help and support to keep it alive. Please consider contributing an amount commensurate to the value that you receive from this site and community, or even by becoming a sustaining supporter through periodic contributions. [Burning Platform LLC - PO Box 1520 Kulpsville, PA 19443] or Paypal
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To donate via Stripe, click here.
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Use promo code ILMF2, and save up to 66% on all MyPillow purchases. (The Burning Platform benefits when you use this promo code.)
No lie, I have thought that same thing dozens of times. In fact I will often say about celebrities things like “I didn’t want to know this, but it is all over the place”.
The Royals have done an amazing job of keeping the British folks in line to continue their
grifting now for many many decades. We went to war to get rid of their stealing rights, along with the French attempt to set up some stealing rights here.
SEE the movie “The Last of the Mohicans”.
Watch as the German economy implodes.
I went to a boarding academy for HS. On my graduation night, my girlfriend and her mother come up to my room. My girlfriend had on a bathing suit very similar to this one…maybe even skimpier, if you can believe it, under an overcoat. Her mother and I watched as she took off her overcoat and pranced around. Her mother thought is was funny. Whacky family.
Did mom leave the two of you alone for a while? And at least mom didn’t take off her coat and reveal the same.
Mom sent the daughter out after getting him fired up, all that cougar stuff you know!
Stimulated a GREAT flashback.
Had a great lady a long time back. Went to her apartment for dinner and she was in her overcoat and insisted we go out for a walk around the block which we did.
Upon arriving back at the apartment she took the coat off and was naked.
Adventuresome spirit I loved of course.
Love the G.I. stencil font! It’s an eye catcher. But they forgot to end the message by lighting the smoking lamp in all designated areas!
Well, then, thanks for the Dos Equis beer, bub.
At least it is not Bud light!
Fuck that swill! I’m spending his money on Heineken and Jim Beam! That’s as close as I get to frugality these days.
YOINK!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
…One could fit the lovely lingerie girl above the lady who appears to eat too much into one leg of muppet girl.
looks Kharzarian.
I actually feel sorry for person that did the tattoos.
…. ironic she has miss piggy upfront and center.
Not at all! Obviously she was trying to convey her message.
think of what the tattoo artist had to go thru (and smell) for hours to do that beautiful work
You ruined my appetite for at least the day if not the week!
It was the tattoos, wasn’t it?
NASA has been keeping this alien hidden until now.
Those of us old enough to remember when the phone was wired to the wall, usually in the kitchen, can relate to this story. I loved this read.
When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was “Information Please” and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone’s number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.
The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and d**gged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. “Information, please,” I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.
A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. “Information.”
“I hurt my finger…” I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
“Isn’t your mother home?” came the question
“Nobody’s home but me,” I blubbered.
“Are you bleeding?” the voice asked
“No, “I replied. “I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.”
“Can you open the icebox?” she asked.
I said I could.
“Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger,” said the voice.
After that, I called “Information Please” for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.
She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, “Information Please,” and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, “Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?”
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, “Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.” Somehow, I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone, “Information Please.”
“Information,” said in the now familiar voice.
“How do I spell fix?” I asked
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much.
“Information Please” belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, “Information Please.”
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.
“Information.”
I hadn’t planned this, but I heard myself saying, “Could you please tell me how to spell fix?”
There was a long pause. Then came the soft-spoken answer, “I guess your finger must have healed by now.”
I laughed, “So it’s really you,” I said. “I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?”
“I wonder,” she said, “if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.”
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
“Please do,” she said. “Just ask for Sally.”
Three months later I was back in Seattle.
A different voice answered, “Information.”
I asked for Sally.
“Are you a friend?” she said.
“Yes, a very old friend,” I answered.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” she said. “Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.”
Before I could hang up, she said, “Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne?”
“Yes.” I answered.
Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you. The note said, “Tell Wayne that there are other worlds to sing in. He’ll know what I mean.”
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
My grandmother put herself through nursing school back in the late 20s/early 30s as a telephone operator. I wish I would have asked her for some stories.
“We shall not pass this way again”
People lose sight of that so quickly these days. Many are never even taught it.
…today it’s just empty disembodied voices.
We think we are so advanced but we have lost so much.
What a moving story.
All teared up.
Thank you, nkit.
‘They’ (our loved ones) are only ‘dead’ when we fail to remember them. So long as they are remembered, they remain alive. Just my opinion. Keep them alive, even after death.
And I thought I would get through today without shedding any tears. What a wonderfully sad story.
Chevy really nailed it with the ’63 Sting Ray … just like they did with the original Corvette …
I know I have odd tastes but there is just something about a ‘71 Nova SS that I love.
For me it is the 1961 409 Chevy bubble top. Everyone has their favorite. Nothing odd about that.
?1460639821000
’72 Buick Skylark Gran Sport.
Rag top. 454bb, air intake hood. Ralleye rims. Very sharp looking ride. Sweet.
Had one at one point in earlier years. Stick. 4-on-the-floor.
Some bad ass Deeetroit muscle.
Would fetch a hefty price if mint nowadays.
See a rare few at the Annual Woodward Dream Cruise.
Do a web search, classic car buffs. Worth a visit.
Was it difficult putting a chevy engine in a Buick?
1966 Corvair Corsa. Ralph Nader can kiss my ass. That car was great and handled like a dream. Until my idiot brother dropped it into first around a traffic circle at 45 and threw a rod through the crankcase. Sudden loss of oil had the predictable result. I still miss that car.
That car,…that color….
And I’m out. Have a pleasant weekend. Cheers from Cheyenne!
Frontier Days!
I come up from Denver on the train.
The only way to do it.
More of my favorite artist, Joaquin Sorolla d,1923.
10 x 14 FEET!
The boy and horse are life sized.
This hung in a small catholic church on 10 street in NYC for decades. Sorolla said after painting it, he would never paint sad subjects ever again. The figures are life sized. it’s a huge work.
“I could not paint at all if I had to paint slowly. Every effect is so transient, it must be rapidly painted.”
Joaquín Sorolla
Feb 27, 1863 – Aug 10, 1923
He considered this his best.
The photo is not accurate. This painting is much lighter.
10×12 feet. It hangs in the Hispanic Society in NYC.
I think this is his best painting It too hangs in The Hispanic Society NYC,?20161121220541
Adios!
Very nice, thank you.
Always my pleasure.
very cool, thanks
Hope you and yours have had some good news.
I’m posting this one again.
….I recognize those orbs of flesh .. but just those.
Again? You literally stole my post. At least you did give it back. No problem, we’re all swiping them from somewhere.
1,000 comments?!? Whodathunkit?
I doubt anyone keeps up with records, but I now base every Friday on the one a few weeks back when there were 8 pages and I see we’ve equaled that mark.
I thought we got to 10 once but could be mistaken
Yer probably right, but I’ve only kept notice of the last few.
WANTED:
Domestic assistants (female), with benefits. I want ladies, preferably Mongolian, others will be considered on a case by case basis, blondes and redheads are always welcome. Apply @ The Khaan’s Place, also called Karakorum.
If you look like her, you will certainly be accepted into my harem.
Since I was banned on Powerline This week in pictures over this from a Dartmouth educated, Minneapolis living Liberal. Let me know what you think. Will post again next week.
my email:
What I can inform as to why you need to not ban me as for 1 thing POS in merchandising which I was in stands for Point of Sale. OK. Your audience already realizes these Politicians are bought and paid for including my Senator. Read the rest of my comments. I offered to host him here at my house and expense.
Context is everything but censorship is not American. It was never typed out and yes I know the rules. You have gone beyond your scope.
I want this escalated if need be.
Scott Johnson thank you.
reply:
I banned you for “My POS Senator” per the notice that precedes every comment section..
Scott Johnson
this why I am still posting. I have way more just wanted to archive for next FF.
Why censorship from idiots cannot be in power.
I recall seeing you on here before, possibly not in a while, but this just reads really odd to me.
https://youtu.be/6EBsLOJv-yI
You should see the response from Steven. He is not happy but didn’t moderate the site. Awaiting re-instatement. And there is more I cannot disclose.