…meanwhile over at vance's house...

Interesting story Garg, interesting story.

And thanks Marc for the background info. It’s easy to forget/overlook things like that.

@Cmdr:

As I do every year, I post my favorite Christmas Poem to wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

This year, I include a link to YouTube so you can listen to the music that has always accompanied this poem (in my mind at least.): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8D-OL-KQOt4

_With medals and badges, awards of all kind
A sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, so dark and dreary,
I knew I had found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.

The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more,
my life is my God, my country, my Corps.”

So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
And I covered this Soldier from his toes to his head.
And I put on his T-shirt of gray and black,
With an eagle and an Army patch embroidered on back._

A Marine stationed in Okinawa, Japan wrote this poem. (Allegedly, from what I have been told, in other words, don’t go b*tch’n and moan’n that some yahoo in Uzbekistan who was constipated on a Monday morning wrote it, I was told it was a Marine in Okinawa, Japan and that’s who I am giving credit too until informed otherwise.)

I had to look it up because the emboldened items are not congruent.  Apparently a Marine wrote it for Leathernecks magazine, and others have come behind and modified it, like this one.  Here’s the original:
Merry Christmas, My Friend

_Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.

I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
and to see just who in this home did live

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I’d seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I’d heard stories about them, I had to see more,
so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
I soon understood, this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night,
owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
“Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more.
My life is my God, my country, my Corps.”

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

I didn’t want to leave him so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
said “Carry on, Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all secure.”
One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight._

Credit to Snopes.

The kicker is this, though: there was no poop actually in the toilet bowl. Everywhere else, but not there. What WAS in the toilet was his soiled underwear that he had abandoned.

FYI I just about died of laughter after reading this LOL

It sounds like to me he flushed the toilet first, and then must have left the underwear in there after.

LOL… that said never leave an underpant behind!

@Nuclear:

This is old.  I saw it a year ago or so.  But either way it is still good.

same here

Jeepers :) I think we can all agree that “ctm” is right. Let’s leave it at that

But how do you grow the pie?
Is that the effort of a single player or of all of them?

google.com I think I’m the only one that knows about it :D

The 2003 will be of about the record size as it seems, and the predictions are quite reliable. So, the answer is “yes, it can fluctuate that much”.
Something that usually is used against environmentalists, as some (other) fluctuations are normal, then the effect could be “just fluctuations”. The other side of the medal is never heard (not even by environmentalists): the same fluctuations could be “favoring” us, and the real man-made effect is much worse….