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Oh, yeah, I saw a documentary about those once, from the '50s. I Love Lucy, they called it…
ohhhh, and it’s your piss that produces the mercury? that is cool.
I’ve experienced this, or at least something that very closely fits its description, a couple times in the past, and it varies on a case-by-case basis. One time it was almost like the sound of glass breaking, I think one time might’ve been closer to a door slamming. Weird shit.
And, same deal as the other fella, hard to remember the specifics 'cause you’re sorta half-asleep when it happens.
“Djinn”, specifically, being the correct word choice. We’re way past fun-loving blue cartoon Robin Williams genies granting wishes, doing impressions of Jack Nicholson and getting into madcap hijinks. We’re back into fuckin’… shapeshifting cobras woven of fire and dust by the archdevil Iblis, hiding in caves and slithering out into the desert at night to tempt mortal men to sin. That mythologically-accurate shit.
And why do we bake cookies but cook bacon?
I mean… Five minutes before the slap, he was sitting in his front-row seat at an internationally-televised award ceremony where he had just been nominated for two of the most coveted honors in cinema. I dunno if he was that bad off.