Would You Board Flight 666 to HEL?
- Thread starter captain morgan
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Yes, I know. You set up a false dichotomy, then choose from it. Works for you, and my indifference knows no bounds, so it's all good.
See, dozens of Finnish people can't be wrong.
As I said, way too predictable. Beelzebub enjoys a challenge.
Someone needs to post a Youtube of Iron Maiden performing Number of the Beast. I'd do it myself, but I'm at work. Be a dear?
Thank you kindly. I do enjoy seeing Rock n' Roll shout outs in the threads. Adds an element of 'cool' to the joint, ya know?
are the t Beach girls at Hel--aww, you guess the punch line already
Are you ever not wrong? If you lose one sense, the others are not enhanced, you simply depend on them more.
No way... Frank the Barber was located at the NW corner of Granville and West 18th (or thereabouts)... Frank rocked... An old Italian guy with old school practices... Always kept the scissors 'clipping' even when they weren't cutting hair.
.. The best part was definitely the use of a straight razor to clean-up all the spots on the sides and back of your neck
I can't find a link for this so I'ma hafta type it all out... but it somehow seems appropriate to this thread on heaven and hell on this Friday the 13th. It kinda sorta outlines how heaven is a benevolent dictatorship while hell is, de facto, real life democracy in action. I read it in The Perkolator while sitting in Timmy's in Gravenhurst and thought I would share it with all you good people (and some of you bad ones too).
POLITICS EXPLAINED
A politician is hit by a truck and dies. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter. "Welcome to heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, there's a problem. We seldom see high officials around here, so we're not sure what to do with you". "No problem, just let me in," says the man. "I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What you'll do is spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity." "Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven," says the MP. "I'm sorry, but we have our rules." St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.
The doors open and he's in the middle of a green golf course. There is a clubhouse and standing there are his friends and other politicians he knew. Everyone is happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a game of golf, then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne. Also present is the devil, really a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They're having such a good time that before he realizes it, it's time to go. Everyone says a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises.
The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens to heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him. "Now we visit heaven." 24 hours pass, the politician joins a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, soon the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns. "Well, you've spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity." The MP reflects for a minute, then he answers: "Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell." So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. Now the doors of the elevator open and he's in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage, his friends dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in bags as more trash falls from above. The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. "I don't understand," stammers the MP. "Yesterday I played golf, ate, drank and danced. Now, it's a wasteland full of garbage and my friends are miserable. What happened?"
The devil looks at him, smiles and says, "Yesterday we were campaigning... Today You Voted."
;?D
POLITICS EXPLAINED
A politician is hit by a truck and dies. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter. "Welcome to heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, there's a problem. We seldom see high officials around here, so we're not sure what to do with you". "No problem, just let me in," says the man. "I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What you'll do is spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity." "Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven," says the MP. "I'm sorry, but we have our rules." St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.
The doors open and he's in the middle of a green golf course. There is a clubhouse and standing there are his friends and other politicians he knew. Everyone is happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a game of golf, then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne. Also present is the devil, really a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They're having such a good time that before he realizes it, it's time to go. Everyone says a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises.
The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens to heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him. "Now we visit heaven." 24 hours pass, the politician joins a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, soon the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns. "Well, you've spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity." The MP reflects for a minute, then he answers: "Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell." So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. Now the doors of the elevator open and he's in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage, his friends dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in bags as more trash falls from above. The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. "I don't understand," stammers the MP. "Yesterday I played golf, ate, drank and danced. Now, it's a wasteland full of garbage and my friends are miserable. What happened?"
The devil looks at him, smiles and says, "Yesterday we were campaigning... Today You Voted."
;?D
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Rationally without crazy superstitions. I have a fear of flying, but if I didnt I wouldnt have a problem flying on a plane with those numbers. Nor would I have a problem with living on the 13th floor. It really annoys me that most buildings dont mark the thirteenth floor with its proper number. 13 comes after 12, not 14. These childish superstitions make no sense.
Question, do you really regard that as 'rational'? I only ask because I don't. I don't have a fear of flying per se, I do have a horrid fear of heights though. (It's not the idea of being in an airplane but the idea of being so high up that terrifies me actually.) But I've always accepted the extreme amount of fear I have as being irrational. I mean, if you can look at the statistical safety of things, it really isn't something to be rationally fearful of is it? (Either flying or falling.)
;-)
You will note that I said 'most' not 'all"..:lol:
Frank was obviously not the usual Vancouver school of male hairdressers...where you sit naked in a hot tub while a Hirsute fellow named Bear carefully trims your locks- and your best buddies climb in naked to console you...
sigggggggggggh... paradise lost...
You will note that I said 'most' not 'all"..:lol:
Frank was obviously not the usual Vancouver school of male hairdressers...where you sit naked in a hot tub while a Hirsute fellow named Bear carefully trims your locks- and your best buddies climb in naked to console you...
sigggggggggggh... paradise lost...
I have a colleague that booked a return flight from Calgary to Beijing recently (ie a few weeks back).... He found that there was a fantastic deal to be had on the return leg to YYC if he flew on 9/11.
Obviously this falls outside the realm of strict, illogical superstitions, but....
Lived out in YVR for a period of time... Never ran across the kind of salon you describe.
I'm actually kinda happy about that
Stayed well clear of the West End, did we ?
Back on topic. Hel's a much more Relaxed beach resort than in Sept 1939...