Here I am, a factory worker enjoying his lunch in the North End of Boston on January 15, 1919. I’ve survived the influenza pandemic, I’m feeling good about life, and I’ve never been more confident I will not be swallowed up by a flood of liquid sugarcane extract
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I'm so excited for tomorrow's charter. The Skipper told me an actual movie star is going to be on our boat. It's gonna be the greatest three hours of my life! There's also some genius showing up, what's he going to do, make a Radio out of a coconut? Hahaha.
She said, "That guy's a genius," I shook my head and laughed
I said, "If he's so fly, then tell me why he couldn't build a lousy raft?"
We can save a lot of time if we cut through this pass on our way west. We're told that it's clear of snow this time of year. What could go wrong?
I brought up the Great Molasses Flood.
She did not appreciate it.
https://youtu.be/upxJaW9wBtw?si=Hu6PHUxaUxbP_5RQ
I had literal nightmares about his death after reading Dark Tide
I think you are right. I went to pieces.
The generous spring rains have led to bumper crops.
After years of hardship and struggle, things are finally looking up for my family.
...
Do you hear that humming noise?
What is that?
I have now listened.
That is NOT THE SAME ONE I KNOW.
Extraordinary
https://youtu.be/A6GlajMzVf0?si=X51PA7ZYRJnEqIfZ
https://bsky.app/profile/torrleonard.bsky.social/post/3les3cnp4bk2i
"I'll be right back, I'm gonna go trade these for a sweet Christmas tree delivered every year."
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/London_Beer_Flood
Like Buzzy's Roast Beef (RIP) where youd buy two sandwiches just so you could toss one over the prison walls for the fellas. The jail is now a hotel.