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November 27, 2006


On this day in history in 1978, George Moscone and Harvey Milk were murdered in San Francisco.

The theme for the day is milk.

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Jim: They Snuck Past Your Eyes

For generations, milkmen went door-to-door, delivering fresh dairy products and sometimes satisfying certain other needs for the occasional bored housewife.

It all seemed harmless enough.

Then fathers concerned about odd behaviors from their supposed offspring began initiating DNA tests. The results from those tests trickled in to various government bureaus.

Eventually some middle management bureaucrat discovered the awful truth. Milkmen, by and large, weren’t low-level laborers. Most of them weren’t even human.

We don’t know where the aliens came from. Hell, we don’t even really care.

All we care about is eliminating those sons-of-bitches and their ill-begotten progeny.

Got bullets?

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David: All It's Worth

“Oh, and since you’re going to the store anyway, could you get some aspirin? My head, it aches so.”

“Your head?! Why—“

The young woman’s husband interrupted. “Certainly, ma’am. It’s the least we could do, considering. But you’re sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

The old woman smoothed the comforter. “Do you think I should?” she asked sweetly. “I’d hate to have to explain about your sidewalk not being salted. Lawyers would get involved, and all that bother.”

Between clenched teeth, the younger woman growled, “So, aspirin?”

“And some magazines. And could you turn up the heat?”

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