MSNBC:
Dead whale explodes in Taiwan. I’ve got a story about whales. My family has a very old grandfather clock. At one point, in my teenage years, it stopped running. Dad took down the works, and in the back we found a little tiny bottle of whale oil, obviously intended for the clock. Still stoppered, as if new. Dad popped the cork, while he had the works in the basement. That smell, that unbelievable smell, permeated the entire three stories of the house in about a split millisecond. Worse than the most foully rotten potatoes. I’ll never forget it. Looking at the photo for the above story, I can clearly imagine the stench ...
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What a whale of a tale, you have there, Garret (ahem). I went and looked. Tainan, eh? Strange, it didn’t hit my olfactory imagination, but I stared hard at the photos to see if I recognized the streets; I lived in Tainan oh, let’s see now—21 years ago (omit groanings of the aged); it was a 3-month stint, but I walked around plenty of streets in that city.
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