rollin with your parking lamps illuminated along with your fog lamps.

One quinch is roughly equivalent to six earthly inches. The term was created to determine measurable snowfalls.

During the day, when you are bored, you look outside the windows from your house. You see nothing but fogs. You, all quietly by yourself, asked, "What is the meaning of life?" Therefore, you decided it is time to walk in the fog. You walked outside, but you can't perceive any physical object except the slow lingering fog. Being surrounded by the fog, you look up the sky in searching for the sun's effort in piercing through the dense fog. As you're looking up, you whispered, "What is the meaning of life." Slowly, you look back down and you see yourself standing in a beautiful place; something that is beyond your dream. The fogs will erase the horrid image of society and temporary place the beauty of your thoughts in reality hence giving you a feeling of "the good life."

The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. As the landscape changed from brown to green, the army awakened, and began to tremble with eagerness at the noise of rumors. It cast its eyes upon the roads, which were growing from long troughs of liquid mud to proper thoroughfares. A river, amber-tinted in the shadow of its banks, purled at the army's feet; and at night, when the stream had become of a sorrowful blackness, one could see across it the red, eyelike gleam of hostile camp-fires set in the low brows of distant hills.

Once a certain tall soldier developed virtues and went resolutely to wash a shirt. He came flying back from a brook waving his garment bannerlike. He was swelled with a tale he had heard from a reliable friend, who had heard it from a truthful cavalryman, who had heard it from his trustworthy brother, one of the orderlies at division headquarters. He adopted the important air of a herald in red and gold.

"We're goin' t' move t'morrah--sure," he said pompously to a group in the company street. "We're goin' 'way up the river, cut across, an' come around in behint 'em."

To his attentive audience he drew a loud and elaborate plan of a very brilliant campaign. When he had finished, the blue-clothed men scattered into small arguing groups between the rows of squat brown huts. A negro teamster who had been dancing upon a cracker box with the hilarious encouragement of twoscore...

A part of being burnt, a state of mental unclarity that pops up at random times during the day. The cloud fogs up your brain and makes it very hard to concentrate or pay attention. The cloud comes and goes as it pleases and passes in about half hour before it strikes again.

Niflheim ("house of mists") is the far northern region of icy fogs and mists, darkness and cold. It is situated on the lowest level of the universe. The realm of death, Helheim is part of the vast, cold region. Niflheim lies underneath the third root of Yggdrasil, close to the spring Hvergelmir ("roaring cauldron"). Also situated on this level is Nastrond, the Shore of Corpses, where the serpent Nidhogg eats corpses and gnaws on the roots of Yggdrasil.

After Ragnarok, there will be a hall here for the punishment of murderers, oath breakers, and philanderers.

Old Norse: Niflheimr

In the future, when all lesser businessess have faded into the fogs of obscurity. Humanity will cluster around the last bastions of Pseudo-Capitalism. Including living quarters for all employees and shoppers alike, now people can TRUELY live the Walmart experience! Behold the age of the Super Duper Walmart.