In which teens are still being dopey, no one loses a limb, and adults react badly.

The children didn’t light the candy. They crushed it into a fine powder in its wrapper, tore off one end, poured the powder into their mouths and blew out fine Smarties dust, mimicking a smoker’s exhale.

The LEAST panicky adult:

Dr. Shikowitz says Smarties may cause irritation to throats and noses — and even lungs if inhaled — but are not likely life-threatening because they eventually will dissolve. “I still don’t think it’s a great idea,” he says.

Nerd Boyfriend.

There was a small boy in the library lobby, crying. I went out there to speak soothingly to him and make sure he wasn’t hurt. His mom arrived moments later and picked him up, revealing a big puddle underneath. He had wet his pants. But for a split second I thought “Wow, he really cried a LOT!”

A USAToday article, “Terrorist watch list hits 1 million,” mentions the possibility of petitioning the FBI to have one’s name removed from the “no fly list.”

There have been 830 redress requests since 2005 where the person was, in fact, confirmed to be on the watch list, and further review by the screening center led to the removal of 150, or 18% of them.

So. Were the remaining 680 immediately apprehended and brought to trial, despite being unafraid to petition to have their name removed? WTF, FBI?

Take a look at this really neat interactive map of where immigrants were and when, from the New York Times. Be sure to try the “number of residents” option.

Nuclear Archeology has confirmed that a bottle found in a safe found in a trench found at the Hanford site contains radioactive material from Hanford in 1944! Neat!

You don’t have to read the article, because the story is quite sad. A few excerpts, however, from the 14 year old girls who are the subject of the article:
“We were like wicked tired and we didn’t really mean to,”

“‘Cause you’re sleeping and then you wake up under the train and you’re like, ‘What?'”

“When your bones that have never touched the air touch the air, it’s like putting a Popsicle on your bottom teeth,” Rachel says.
“Except for times a million,” Destiny says.

“I was like, ‘Whatever, I lost a leg, it will grow back.’ And then I was like, ‘Wait a minute. No, it won’t.'”

“It’s like I lost a part of myself. … It feels like a part of me is dead, because it’s gone.”

Now I am sorry that it never occurred to me to make commemorative tablets for those especially “hard working” patrons.