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The Era -- Day By Day

LizzieMaine

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Better late, here's todays "Terry..."

Daily_News_1946_05_01_791.jpg

Love flies innuendo...

And as a bonus...

Daily_News_1946_05_01_817.jpg

"Birds do it, bees do it...."
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
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Women are mysterious creatures beyond rational measure however I know my own kind.

Dragon Gal is luscious low hanging fruit ripe for taking.:p Trust me, I know this for a fact. :cool:
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
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Nota bene. Bob Feller's memoir is a fantastic read. Guy pitched to Ruth as a teenager.
Cannot recall its title but said book relates unionizing pro ball.
Also, Feller wasn't against Jackie Robinson, just as a pitcher remarked some weaknesses in Robinson's plate acumen.
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
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Well, Derby is covered. Past performance, prognostication, prayers. The distaff with discerned.
L;U;V; and X ambush configurations. Banquo's ghost from 2016 Belmont Stakes, Creator; whose bad trip in the Derby as tenth, and breaking tenth post Belmont augured winning superfecta, confronted. Like Henry VIII faced Anne Boleyn's spectre in The Tudors. (Caught series in Vegas while at conference). Mind numbed. o_O

Commandment; Chief Wallabe; Further Ado; and railbird Renegade are my win contenders. However, rail post Once has busted flush for the past forty years. Renegade's final prep last eighth mile done in 11.84 seconds leads this field, so his hitting the board is possible. Use him underneath with your trifectas and superfecta tickets. Use Emerging Market, The Puma, So Happy, and Potentate also underneath with Ninjas Danon Bourbon; Wonder Dean; also Incrediboldt; Right to Party for exotics. Lightly raced entrants without empirical data and Nippon tabula raza make scoring this race exceedingly difficult.

Identifying the key horses and structuring probable wagers accordingly is preferred handicapping method, but scant info, hard luck post draws, and a full open wide race skewers comfortable solution. I used my $220 bankroll acey deucey with wild whiskey tango foxtrot. Good luck tomorrow. :)
 

LizzieMaine

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Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_02_1.jpg

("I'm very sorry," headshakes the doctor, his brow creasing as he examines the thermometer. "The fever is cresting, and his breathing is labored. I'm afraid hospitalization is the only option at this time. May I use your telephone?" "It's doonstairs," indicates Ma. "In the stoor. Take that door tharr, ye woon't have to goo back ootside. Ye'll need a nickel." "Ah," nods the doctor, stepping to the exit. "Oi've got a troock 'roond back," offers Uncle Frank, "if ye think..." A deadly glare from Ma halts him in mid-offer. "Nivvar moind," he shrugs. "Oi'll coom doon with ye..." As they exit, Ma glances into the crib at her grandson. "He ain't sick," insists Bink, her hands wringing the crib rail. "Awl babies is like t'at. Dinchoo tell me ya arways hadda wipe ya kids' noses? Dincha? Huh?" Ma has no reply as she silently leads Bink to a chair...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_02_2.jpg

("SAAAAAMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEE!" bellows Lottie Schreibstein, leaning out a third floor window of 1762 63rd Street. "WHATCHA WAWNT!" bellows back her brother, standing across the street on the sidewalk in front of the Beth Israel synagogue. "I WANNNA HAMBOIGEH!" she bellows back. "A BIG JOE SPECIAL!" "WE AIN' SELLIN' NO SPECIALS!" bellows back Sammy. "WE AIN' GOT T' MEAT! POP SAYS ON'Y REG'LEHS!" "GIMME TWO REG'LEHS!" bellows Lottie. "BUT PUT'M AWN JUST TWO PIECES A' TOAST!" She vanishes from the window and immediately reappears. "MAKE IT FOEH REG'LEHS," she corrects. "AWN FOEH PIECES A' TOAST!" "YA WAN' ANY P'TATEH CHIPS?" yells back Sammy. "YEH!" bellows Lottie. "AN' PUT IT AWN SERGEAN' SOLLY'S BILL!!")

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_02_3.jpg

("She's asleep," sighs Sally, slumping on the edge of the folding bed. "Looks like a berled lobsteh wit'tat rash." "I neveh had a lobsteh," shrugs Joe. "I won'eh what'tat's like, is it like a fish 'a what?" "Like a big cockroach," exhales Sally. "Leas'at's what I hoid. We hadda disseck one in biology one time. A big cockroach, I mean, not a lobsteh." "I guess Erasmus wasn' fancy enough t'have lobstehs," snickers Joe. "Go t'sleep," mumbles Sally, lapsing into exhausted slumber...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_02_10.jpg

("Please No Immunity On Checks.")

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(They cut Davis? I always kinda liked the old coot, even though HE HAD NO BUSINESS STARTING GAME 1 WHEN HIG HADN'T PITCHED IN A WEEK. Sigh.)

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(Corruption in the fight game? Are we to be left no illusions at all?)

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(200 Pounds of Brawn? Isn't that that jellied aspic stuff the British make out of a boiled pig's head?)

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("Take a ride?" What is this, 1928?)

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(I know they don't allow breach-of-promise suits in New York anymore, but I don't know about Illinois...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_02_21 (4).jpg

(Just how old is this pup? And how long ago did Patsy -- ah -- depart?)
 

LizzieMaine

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And in the Daily News...

Daily_News_1946_05_02_4.jpg

Is it legal for a judge to hand out candy bars to a witness?

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That's nothing, have you been to the St. Nicholas Arena on a Friday night?

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One for all and all for me and me for you and three for five and six for a quarter...

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"Yes, eternal. Such is the way of Molech."

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"Fifty cents a month extra for an extension, that's why!"

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"Nice jacket!"

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"You're just in time for our Davega Mining Tools Special!"

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Don't point that thing at anybody you don't intend to drill. On the other hand...

Daily_News_1946_05_02_74.jpg
To say nothing of actually going to class.

Daily_News_1946_05_02_79.jpg

Well at least he isn't flicking ashes on the rug.
 
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"The fever is cresting, and his breathing is labored. I'm afraid hospitalization is the only option at this time. May I use your telephone?"

If this baby doesn't make it, the tragedy is for the baby, but nobody's life and circumstances change more than Bink's.

********************************************************

"AN' PUT IT AWN SERGEAN' SOLLY'S BILL!!"

Sgt. Solly might have a thing to say about that, but he'll probably just chalk it up to the entire awful experience.

********************************************************

That's nothing, have you been to the St. Nicholas Arena on a Friday night?

He'd love 2026.
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
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8,894
Location
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The Cananzey marital tragedy is sober remind that there are more important things in life than thoroughbred graded stakes play, and this afternoon's paper drives this poignancy home most eloquently.

Chief Justice Robert Jackson had a rather swift law school stay; yet his law degree and New York Bar pass, together with Nuremberg prosecution service, stated his qualifications for chief justiceship. Frankfurter's opinion otherwise moot. Jackson was not long for this earth as fateful chance had clear voice.

----

The Puma scratched this morning. Nolo contendre a swollen leg. Parlayed refunded cancels wherein he listed lower stack exotics into undercard wager. The betting pools thunder and are statistically thirty percent correct, although I consider the vast majority found public derbyists amateurs, I still check ebb and flow. Renegade is a stronger draw for the Win crowd than seems prudent. My gluteus maximus covered, and some irrelevant whackjob wagers thrown capricious chance besides. Me bankroll peeled off down to the bone. :cool:
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
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Blindsided. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Hall of Fame moment.

Ten years ago, seated inside the off track betting Crestwood, Illinois locus, I saw Destin, Lani, Creator, and
Governor Malibu round curve toward Belmont Stakes home plate; while belting a cold Miller Lite, and feeling a monster traffic ticket tucked inside my wallet. Ten seconds later, Creator had jumped the chow line and hit the wire, winning by a nostril. Busted flush me left two choices amidst dead silence, cry or laugh. I laughed. Made my bones that damn day. This afternoon marked another such moment at the absurdity of it all, this sport of kings where being right can prove wrong. A stunning upset win, historic, and long to be argued, debated, scoffed. But not pretzel twisted oneself, it's what it most certainly is. An upset, no more, no less. :cool:
 

LizzieMaine

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Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_03_1.jpg

("Yeh, Misteh P," repeats Sammy Schreibstein, standing in the doorway of 1762 63rd Street. "Y' mot'ehr'n lawr's been cawlin' awl mawrnin'. She says t'ey took t' baby t' t' hawspit'l las' night. She says t'ey got'im inna oxygen tent." "Which hospit'l?" asks Joe. "Caledonian," replies Sammy. "Down awn Pawrkside Aveneh." "Yeh," nods Joe. "T'at's wheh t'ey took Ma when she haddat stroke. I know wheh'rit is." "Um," ums Sammy. "T'ez one ot'eh t'ing. She -- uh -- din' zackly say you otta mention it t', y'know, Sawrgeant Pincus -- but -- you know..." "Yeh," nods Joe, his face grave. "I know...")

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_03_3.jpg

("I'm not snifflin'," insists Bink. "Cryin', then," exhales Ma. "Why won'ey let me innat hospit'l," demands Bink. "Ev'rybody's arways sayin' it's my kid! Why can' I SEE 'im?" "We still doon't knoo if you had th' measles arr not," sighs Ma. "An' it woon't doo ye noo good, an' it woon't do th' baby any good neitharr. Tharr doin' aaahl they can. Th' doctar says he'll caaall when thaaar's soomthin' --" Bink interrupts this statement with a suppressed cough. "Wharrr's th' thermometaaar?" demands Ma. "Get oopstairs this instant. Oi'll be allang t' take ye temp'ercharr. Doon't look at me, GO!" With a sullen glare, Bink heads for the stairs as Ma glances at her watch. She descends briskly into the darkened store, and into the back room, just in time to intercept a tapping at the alley door. "I brung 'eh like ya ast," declares Heckie Capiello as Ma opens the door a crack. "Whassis awlabout?" questions Rosa. "Heckie says ya wanna tawk t' me?" "I do," nods Ma. "Ye knoo wharr Caledonian Haaaspital is?" "Yeh," nods Rosa. "Barbara's baby is tharr," explains Ma. "An' they woon't tell us noothin'. I wanchee to goo down tharr an' ask t' see a Doctarr McCann. Hand him this enveloop. An' make a noot'a evr'ything he tells ye." "T'is ain' nut'n illegal," frowns Rosa. "Is it? I know what goes awn'eeh." "Moind'jee toong," snaps Ma. "This is an errrand'a maaarcy." Rosa regards her for a long moment, and accepts the envelope. "Tharr's foive dollars in thar farr ye," nods Ma. "Faaar ye trooble." Rosa opens the envelope, selects a five from the contents and passes it back thru the crack. "It's an erran'da moicy," she agrees...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_03_10.jpg

(Coming Events...)

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(Curt Davis deserves a lifetime job in the Dodger organization if only for the fact that it was he who gave MacPhail that giant moosehead.)

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("Off me like an old shirt!" It's a hokey story, but you can't fault the dialog.)

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(Are you sure that wasn't Norma Shearer?)

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(DOINK!)

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(I've never been to a wedding this fun.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_03_21 (4).jpg

(Are you sure that's wise?)
 

LizzieMaine

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Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

Daily_News_1946_05_03_779.jpg

"And they weren't even GOOD hotels!"

Daily_News_1946_05_03_854.jpg

"The Mortimer Snerd of the Field." Mr. Powers is having a good time, he just doesn't want to admit it.

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Someday you'll learn to keep your beak shut. Oh, who'm I kidding, of coure he won't.

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"Those who forget history are doomed to repeat 5-B."

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Love, your magic spell is everywhere...

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The DL uses common hoods now? Boy, she really IS losing it.

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"I thought it'd be good for a private office, so I'll have plenty of time to think!"

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"We will teach you our ways. You will become like us. You will become one OF us."

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"Anything to get away from that rattle-brained hepcat!"

Daily_News_1946_05_03_849.jpg

Tagging along on your brother's dates to dig him for small change? That's a new level of trollery.
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
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8,894
Location
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Brenda Marshall was in The Sea Hawk with Errol Flynn. She was so elegant and beautiful. :)

I would advise Stanley Hagedowney to take a cop and plea down to lesser land as appellate recourse isn't a guarantee against jury verdict wrought hard factual criminal evidence. And for a lousy ten bucks chump change, he needs to get his head out of his ***.

I'm with the Jamaica grooms and hot walkers, and barn attendants. Barn purse winnings should be even stevened right down line to lowest barn floor scut workers.

Ralph Bellamy's New York apartment woes looks interesting but sleep lack precludes analysis.

I didn't know Bill Holden was married to Ms Marshall. Scotty Bowers' tell all, Full Service recounts he pimped girls for Holden. Always liked Holden, seemed a great guy. Love Is A Many Splendored Thing is a favorite, and I liked him in The Bridge at Toko-Ry as a doomed naval aviator who sensed his impending death. Underrated film.

Alcatraz sealed the US Marine Corps as a distinct force within the Navy Department. This episode recounted in The Bird Man of Alcatraz with Burt Lancaster. Great film. :) Nota bene, Lancaster's Valdez is Coming is a fantastic finely focused film.. Pardon alliterative grammar usage. :)
 
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Rosa opens the envelope, selects a five from the contents and passes it back thru the crack. "It's an erran'da moicy," she agrees...

Wonderful kid.

********************************************************

Are you sure that's wise?

To be fair, so far, the dad's never been better than he has been in this storyline. I keep waiting for him to let us down, though.

********************************************************

The DL uses common hoods now? Boy, she really IS losing it.

Everybody peaks at some point.

********************************************************

Coming events, cont'd...

Eighty years later, but at least we have finally solved that (checks notes), umm, carry on.

********************************************************

Brenda Marshall was in The Sea Hawk with Errol Flynn. She was so elegant and beautiful.

MV5BZWMxYTRiOTItNmRmMC00NWFiLWIwZjYtN2E4ZDc4MjAzNDU1XkEyXkFqcGc@._V1_.jpg
 

LizzieMaine

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Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_04_1.jpg

("Oi tool'jee what th' doctaar said, Francis," reiterates Ma. "They'd give th' choild penicillin farr th' pneumoonia, boot they joost can't GET it. Tharr's soo mooch d'mand faaar it, th' supploys caan't keep oop!" "An' that whool big fact'ry oop aahn Flooshin' Avenarr," growls Uncle Frank, "poompin' it oot, an' WE caan't get noon." "Ye moost knoo SOMEBODY," pleads Ma. "Aaaaahl th' big shaaats ye aaahlways sayin' ye knoo." "Thar's soo moocha th' blooody stoof gooin' to th' Aaarmy," ponders Uncle Frank. He jingles a handful of coins in his pocket, lost in thought. "Nora," he resumes. "What's th' phoon noombar again, oovar t' Schreibstein's place?" "BEachview 2-9371," replies Ma. "It's wroot on th' waaall tharr." Uncle Frank steps to the phone, dings in a nickel, and dials. "H'lo," he greets. "This is Frank Leary. Lemme speak t'ye soon please. Oi've gotta get a message oovar -- h'lo, Sammy? Frank Leary. Listen cloose now. This is verry impaaartant. Yarr goin' t' be roonin' a lood'a messages back an' faarth, soo wroite it ahhl doon. Oi need'jee t' d'livarrr this t' Saaaaaargeant Pincus, an' doon' take noo "nooo" faaaar an ansaaar....")

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_04_3.jpg

("Oi tool'jee," sighs Ma. "They wouldn' let'jee friend Roosa in t'see th' choild. Th' doctarr joost coom doonstairs t' th' lobby an' talked to'arr. But at least he doon that. An'nee says 'e's doin' ahhl 'e can. An' thaaar gooin' t'get'im sooma this penicillin, so ye doon't worry noon.." "It ain' faieh," coughs Bink, her head drooping to the pillow. "T'at kid neveh did nut'n t'nobody. Why'see gotta be sick. I done t'ings, I done lotsa t'ings, soives ME right t' be sick. But t'at kid ain' hadda CHANCE t' do nut'n." "It doon't matter whatcha doon or ya didn't do," sighs Ma. "Ev'ryboody's got th' same chance'a gett'n sick as anywoon." "Kid neveh hadda chance," murmurs Bink. "He'll have pliiinty'a chances," reassures Ma. "You troy 'n sleep, 'n Oi'll letchee knoo if tharrr's any news." "Penicillin," exhales Bink. "Ain'nat made outa -- moldy fruit? Ain' we gotta moldy grapefruit inna -- " "Go t' sleep," commands Ma, making her way to the door...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_04_4.jpg

(She has a point.)

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(You know, it might be a good idea. I hear the fences in the Mexican League are all made out of wood, not concrete.)

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(I'm sure that's not a double entendre.)

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("Goon Gas?")

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("In the meantime, I wouldn't think of pushing you in front of a bus.")

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(No bone chips in HER elbow!)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_05_04_11 (4).jpg

(This whole strip is beautifully drawn, especially panel one. *snif*)
 

LizzieMaine

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And in the Daily News...

Daily_News_1946_05_04_240.jpg

99 matched pearls? Well, anything over a hundred is just too ostentatious.

Daily_News_1946_05_04_260 (1).jpg

A million stories.

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"And he never got that either!"

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"Gooood loock with THAT!" -- Uncle Frank.

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"But you stole it out of his humidor!"

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Well good, now maybe you both can grow up.

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"Besides, you have already been pledged to me for eternity. Look, they're already building the wedding fire."

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At least you're getting the lawn aerated for free.

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"It is well that we are legitimate businessmen. Yes, very legitimately legitimate."

Daily_News_1946_05_04_263.jpg

Pretty convenient they mark it like that...
 
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18,204
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She has a point.

And for a lot of them, this is the second post-war period of their life already. A twenty year old in 1920 is all of 46 today.

********************************************************

This whole strip is beautifully drawn, especially panel one. *snif*

It is indeed. I might be imagining it, but in panel one, the body English does look like the dad is being sympathetic.

********************************************************

99 matched pearls? Well, anything over a hundred is just too ostentatious.

The work of a highly professional jewel thief. Sure it's wrong, but still, you do have to pine a bit for a time when one could make a good living stealing rich people's jewelry.

N. B. Ingrid looks really feakin' good.

********************************************************

"Besides, you have already been pledged to me for eternity. Look, they're already building the wedding fire."

Plus, she doesn't look that skinny to me – all that hearty farm food.

********************************************************

Mr. Griffith makes a substantial portion of his income from renting his ballpark to the Homestead Grays, while importing a long line of -- ah -- olive-complected Cubans to play for the Senators. And he doesn't see a bit of contradiction...

Once again we see, the greatest lies we tell are the lies we tell to ourselves.
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
Messages
8,894
Location
Chicago, IL US
Turk's lawyer wanting another pass over testimonial chair would force prosecution second cross
so the kid could then break down again before jury. Uh huh. This matter should have been resolved under plea for second degree allowance and life sentence; however, its before a jury box? The learned trial judge should have ordered chambers on this slipshod and demanded adjudicative resolution.

Judge Knox's intrusion into fellow justice Leamy bail judgement in Rubenstein, constitutes ex cathedra
bench frolic a bit too close impropriety; which countered US Attorney Saypool, noted for the learned trial judge's edification. Defendant Rubenstein 's bail having been raised by Judge Leamy upon federal appeal following just cause. $5 mike circa buys some distance.

Ms Paulson and Ms Wenschlag further exemplify two-tier American ***********er justice. Of course the boys didn't want to leave, but false imprisonment is achievable through criminal converse enticement. Wink wink.

Alcatraz looks quite the knock down dragout barfight. If the assault force is using ***** grenades which require crimped cartridge load, I speculate how much ammo each individual marine carries for the Rock operation.
I normally had two hundred rounds basic load and never carried crimps. But these guys are doing RGs with lead primary. Thought this a drop, in say hellow fast fistfight. But these guys are laying down some heavy cover. o_O
 

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