smuggling

3

December 24th 1826: Eggnog riot begins

On this day in 1826, the so-called ‘Eggnog Riot’ began at the West Point military academy in New York. Whiskey and rum had recently been banned at the academy by Colonel Sylvanus Thayer, the new superintendent of West Point. Wishing to continue an annual tradition, and reveling in the Christmas spirit, several cadets smuggled large quantities of alcohol into West Point to make eggnog for a party. The party that began in one small room in the barracks quickly escalated out of control, eventually involving one third of West Point’s cadets, and resulted in the assault of two officers and destruction to the North Barracks. After the festivities had been interrupted by the officers, some party-goers, emboldened by their eggnog, decided to arm in defence of the barracks and fighting broke out between the cadets and officers in what was essentially a mutiny. Christmas morning dawned with many disheveled and still inebriated cadets appearing for training. A month of inquiries, established by Thayer, aimed to punish the ringleaders of the shenanigans and led to the court-martialing of twenty cadets. The trials of the accused lasted three months, featuring the testimonies of future Confederate military leaders Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis in defense of the cadets, and resulted in the dismissal of eleven cadets from the illustrious academy. In fact, the future Confederate President Davis took part in the Eggnog riots, which did not help his reputation for poor behavior at the academy.

Belgium to Return Stolen 3,000-Year-Old Relics to Iran

MOSCOW, December 24 (Sputnik) — The Belgian Court of Appeal has ordered the restitution of a 300-piece ancient Iranian artifact collection smuggled by a French woman to the Belgian city of Ghent almost 50 years ago, Iran Daily reported.
The collection includes nine boxes of 3,000-year-old artifacts from an archaeological site in Khorvin, 80 kilometers (50 miles) from Tehran.

"After 35 years, finally an appeal court in a Belgian city voted in favor of Iran in the case involving Khorvin antiques," an informed source said Tuesday as quoted by Iran Daily.

Iran has filed similar lawsuits in courts in the United Kingdom, France, Turkey, and Pakistan for the restitution of objects of historical heritage, smuggled out of the country during the shah’s rule. (source)

At Christmas Eve church when i see a tail sticking out of the pew…only in the upper peninsula do you smuggle your dog into church…

a very steter Christmas - ep.25 END

lloydoholic asked:

Secret Santa; The pack didn’t want to put Peter’s name in there too, but Peter managed to smuggle it in anyways. It’s Stiles who gets his name, naturally, and now he’s stumped as to what to get Peter, until, *the best idea eva* hits him: “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies”—the perfect book for the zombie wolf who also seems to love reading (not that Stiles has noticed or anything *cough cough*)…

—-

It was just Stiles’ luck, drawing a card with Peter’s name on it.

 

He wasn’t exactly clear how the name got into the pool, he’d bet his Jeep that Scott didn’t even consider putting Peter in it when he proposed they do a Secret Santa as ways to bond as a pack. Either thinking him too old to participate in it, or not necessary for bonding.

 

As it was though, Stiles might be the only one who wouldn’t have a problem gift shopping. If only because he actually already had a gift prepared.

 

It wasn’t that he had intended to get something for Peter. It was just—-

 

They had gotten closer over the last few years, what with constantly being the ones to research the monster of the week, Stiles begging Peter for books or information until the wolf just gave in and helped Stiles with saving the day.

 

There were late nights and oceans of coffee involved, fights that turned from snarking, to bickering, and finally to inside jokes. There was mutual respect and Peter slipping in innuendo after innuendo until Stiles flirted right back with his special brand of dirty humor.

 

It had been a bit of an impulsive response when he had found the book on Amazon, his thoughts immediately drifting to Peter and imagining the exact eye roll Peter would present him with when handed the book.

 

He had been paying for the book before he had had a chance to think twice about it.

 

He definitely hadn’t planned to even hand it over with the rest of the pack in the room. His plan had simply involved leaving the thing at Peter’s doorstep or somehow slipping it into Peter’s jacket when the werewolf was busy taunting one of Stiles’ friends.

 

Now that he had the excuse, though, it was ridiculously perfect.

 

It did maybe make the gift less special, in Stiles’ mind, since it wouldn’t be a gesture anymore but rather Stiles playing along with the Secret Santa. But it was probably better this way.

 

There were moments when he thought that he and Peter were on the verge of becoming something more, moments of tension, of touches that lingered, of Peter or Stiles standing too close for it to be anything but intentional. Of Peter smiling at Stiles’ antics almost fondly.

 

How much of it was sincere interest on Peter’s part though, Stiles couldn’t be sure.

 

He didn’t really worry about it much, not on most days, but when faced with Christmas gift exchanges Stiles’ mind seemed intent on circling around the issue of whether Peter wanted Stiles or not.

 

It made him nervous to a point where he almost went out to buy a more generic gift, like a mug, or a shovel, a wolf-keychain, or something.

 

But then his gaze would turn to where the original gift was lying, already wrapped in moon-themed paper (Stiles couldn’t help himself) and topped with a bow, and he thought what if and maybe.

 

He was so worried about his gift for Peter that he never spared a thought to ponder who’d be the lucky person to have to buy a present for him.

 

—-

 

Stiles knew he was grinning like a madman, but he couldn’t and honestly didn’t want to curb it at all.

This was the best, most fantastic gift ever.

 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it and Kira looking over his shoulder and cooing at it wasn’t helping at all.

 

“C’mon, put it on!” she nudged him in the side and he laughed, batting her hand away.

 

“Okay, okay! God, your nails are sharp.”

 

He carefully lifted the hat from the box, taking a moment to turn it around in his hands to catch every single detail of it. He could see Derek rolling his eyes at him from the corner of his eye, clearly not amused by the gift at all.

 

Stiles couldn’t care less about the grumpy wolf’s opinion at the moment.

 

Finally, he pulled the hat on his head and looked at the room at large, a huge, wolfish grin on his face.

Someone bought him a wolf hat!

 

And not just any wolf hat, mind you. It was plush and warm, gray, with big ears and flaps so long he could wrap them around his neck and use them as a scarf. Which he did immediately and turned to Kira so she could take a picture with her phone.

 

“You can use the flaps as more than just a scarf,” Peter piped up and suddenly Stiles knew who exactly got him his amazing hat.

 

The name lottery had to have been rigged. It had to be. But it didn’t stop Stiles from smiling at Peter, his heart jumping excitedly when Peter smiled back and it wasn’t his usual edged smirk, but something much gentler and warmer.

 

Feeling his cheeks heat up, he broke eye contact with Peter and unwrapped the flaps, laughing giddily when he noticed that they had pockets he could hide his hands in. Pushing his hands inside he stood up and spread his arms, his fingers toasty warm and covered.

 

He refused to take the hat off for the rest of the evening.

 

—-

 

It wasn’t until the pack party died down a little that Stiles got to talk to Peter. He found him in the kitchen, sitting at the table with the book Stiles had bought him, busy reading with a slight curve of his lips.

 

In all his excitement Stiles had completely forgotten about his nerves over his gift for the werewolf, mostly because he had missed Peter opening it. It seemed, though, that all his worry was pointless.

 

Stiles dropped his plate in the sink and approached the table, pulling out the chair next to Peter and plopping down. “Do you like it?”

 

Peter closed the book and looked up to raise one perfect brow at Stiles, “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies,” he drawled, the ‘really, Stiles’ heavily implied.

 

“Don’t front, I’ve already caught you looking through it and I know you love things like this,” he said with a grin. He knew he was right, too. He had caught Peter laughing over books like this more than once. “You’ll read the whole thing and enjoy every second of it.”

 

“You’re pretty sure of yourself,” was Peter’s reply, but he was smiling at Stiles. The very same fond smile he had given Stiles earlier in the day, when he first put on his hat.

 

The fluffy wolf was still perched on Stiles’ head, a little askew from Kira and Erica playfully tugging at the flaps only moments ago. Stiles didn’t mind though, because Peter reached out a hand and tugged the hat into place, smoothed down the side of the hat, his thumb brushing Stiles’ cheek.

 

Stiles had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from blurting out something stupid, from asking questions he didn’t really need to voice anymore.

 

Not when Peter was leaning in to answer them all.

THE END

This is the very last of the sxp drabbles. I hope you enjoyed them. Merry Christmas everyone!

anonymous asked:

I feel weird now because you appeared to me in a dream and smuggled me into the audience of DCI finals because I lost my ticket

sounds like something i’d do.

"Lost at Sea With a Cooler Full of Blackmarket Human Organs”
(Version 2)

Amit kicked and punched to get off the sinking ship
As it sunk into the ocean, ending quickly his trip
He grabbed his cooler full of organs that he smuggled aboard
And floated off all alone, the drowning people ignored.

If he can’t sell these organs, he’ll be totally broke
He’d have to live homeless on the street, his life a cruel joke.
It’s been several days, and there’s been no sign of land
But if a ship comes to his rescue, would they understand?

Because if he’s not found soon, he’ll die lost at sea
And that wouldn’t be fun (most indubitably)
But if caught with the organs, he’ll be arrested right away
So is it even worth it to live another day?

At the very least, he’ll get yelled at a lot.
And being yelled at is the worst, so he’d rather not.
He racks his brain for schemes to avoid getting caught
But each scenario ends with him arrested, and eventually being shot.

He just wants to sell these organs that he rightfully stole
It’s been his dream since childhood; his one lifelong goal!
Just had to find an unscrupulous rich man who needs a new heart
It should have been so easy, but it’s gone wrong from the start.

Now it’s either death and/or jail, and both seem like a curse
And no matter how much he dwells, he can’t decide which is worse. :’-/

(Starring my friend, the amazing Amit!)

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2

BLEACHING AND PAINTING OF PARROTS

This brings me to tears. All because of greedy bastards and an uninformed bunch of consumers. 

These parrots are seen in clandestine bird markets all over South and Central America. Many of the birds smuggled into the USA are likewise impaired.

All die

The process of bleaching is excessively cruel. The parrots’ head is literally dunked in chlorine. The same stuff that cleans your toilets or bleaches your hair. Besides bleaching the feathers it also damages the eyes, skin, lungs and digestive tract of the parrot, which, if not killed directly, will develop secondary problems which are eventually fatal.

The chemical dye that is successively used to produce the yellow colouring adds to this. Slowly poisoning the parrot every time it preens. The traders in these birds even induce this cruelty on unweaned babies as witnessed by the last bird in the image.

Few of the people that buy these birds are inclined to go to a specialised avian vet to treat the bird, if such a vet even exists in their country. 
Veterinarian Dr. Pat Latas of the Arizona Bird Clinic produced these images. He finds these birds, smuggled from Mexico, for sale at swap meets and flea markets across the USA.

Why dye an already beautiful parrot?

This question must come to mind. These parrots are already beautiful with their contrasting white, red and green markings. Why bestow such cruelty on them just to add yellow?

Popular folklore in South and Central America has it that Yellow-headed parrots are the best talkers: “Loro hablando”. True, the Central American Yellow-headed Amazon parrot (Amazona oratrix) is known as one of the best mimics of the parrot family. But the Yellow-headed Amazon is almost extirpated by the constant onslaught of the wild bird trade. They are hard to come by thus very expensive.

By dyeing the head of other parrot species yellow they can be made to look like the good talking Yellow-headed parrots and be sold at a far better price. So much better as to compensate for the many birds lost in the procedure. 

Trough this wasteful practice more species of parrot get threatened by the wild bird trade, species that traditionally were not targeted by the pet industry. White fronted amazons are naturally nervous birds with little pet potential. Now they too disappear from the Mexican countryside and turning up in the illegal trade in the USA and elsewhere because they are be made to look like other birds.
via cityparrots.org 

I know this is tough to look at, but please be strong enough to spread information like this. Let the world be made aware, and possibly be able to do more to help prevent things like this. It just takes the right person, one spark to catch…

"Lost at Sea With a Cooler Full of Blackmarket Human Organs”

Amit kicked and punched to get off the sinking ship
As it sunk into the ocean, ending quickly his trip
He grabbed his cooler full of organs that he smuggled aboard
And floated off all alone, the drowning people ignored.

If he can’t sell these organs, he’ll be totally broke
He’d have to live homeless on the street, his life a cruel joke.
It’s been several days, and there’s been no sign of land
But if a ship comes to his rescue, would they understand?

Because if he’s not found soon, he’ll die lost at sea
And that wouldn’t be fun (most indubitably)
But if caught with the organs, he’ll be arrested right away
So is it even worth it to live another day?

At the very least, he’ll get yelled at a lot.
And being yelled at is the worst, so he’d rather not.
He racks his brain for schemes to avoid getting caught
But each scenario ends with him arrested, and eventually being shot.

He just wants to sell these organs that he rightfully stole
It’s been his dream since childhood; his one lifelong goal!
Just had to find an unscrupulous rich man who needs a new heart
It should have been so easy, but it’s gone wrong from the start.

Now it’s either death and/or jail, and both seem like a curse
And no matter how much he dwells, he can’t decide which is worse. :’-/

(Starring my friend, the amazing Amit!)

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a movie about a cute lesbian couple in 1920s Chicago but one of them is the captain of the police force and the other is the boss of the most powerful mob in the city and the policewoman has no idea

6

"You’re my friend."