My Favorite Things Fill in the Blank Form

Registry Hack to Disable Writing to USB Drives. (Don't you want others copying your confidential data from your computer? You are in a right place. Go ahead...)Go to Start->Run->type regedit & press Enter.Go to the path HKEY_LOCAL_MACHINE\SYSTEM\CurrentControlSet\Control\StorageDevicePoliciesOn the Right side panel, Double click the WriteProtect. Change the value data from 0 to 1.Click ok. Hurray... Nobody can copy any file from your computer to any USB that connected to your computer. The following window will appear if they trying to copy,P.S: If you want to reverse the operation, Follow the above-mentioned steps and finally just replace the value from 1 to 0.If you couldn't find StorageDevicePolicy key, Step 1: Go to the path HKEY_LOCAL_MACHINE\SYSTEM\CurrentControlSet\ControlStep 2: Right Click at Control key. Create a new key & rename it as StorageDevicePolicies.Step 3: Now click the StorageDevicePolicies key. On the empty Right side panel Right Click->New->DWORD 32-bit value & Enter.Step Update 1: Click below to know about choosing subtitles automatically in vlc media player.Vasanth Prabakar's answer to What are some useful skills I can learn in minutes?Update 2: If you want to watch your favorite TV series with subtitles, but don't want to wait until the whole series to be downloaded. Just download the subtitles for the TV series that you want to watch. And finally you can stream those episodes by adding youtube link of the TV series to vlc media player.Enjoy watching by add subtitles for the episodes.

Things!Hmm.. okay.Here we go.My daddy's bikeMy booksSwingsComicsGuitar picksCartoonsOld photographsLampsGuitarWind chimesPaintbrushesRound pebblesPaintingsBookmarksOld dried leavesPerfumesLadoos (Sweet dish)X-Men moviesMickey mouse toysVideo gamesThank you!

I owned and ran a large daycare in my home for 20 years. I played with and educated hundreds of children.Here is a list of a few of the scariest things I have been through. Oh, and in 20 years I only suggested to the parents of 7 children that their children might be happier somewhere else.1. Walked into the kitchen to find water streaming into the kitchen from the kitchen window. I run outside and find a set of twins holding my hose turned on full blast into my kitchen and laughing at the top of their lungs.2. Same children, this time both of them are peeing in the big box of Stuffies. And laughing.I talked to the parents about these two every single day because they were not listening and were giving me a very hard time and each parent separately would say “ there's nothing wrong with them. When we have them, they obey us perfectly” and then I would watch them chase those kids back and forth in the front yard yelling “Come back here, give me your hands! come back here!”.They got to find a daycare where they would be happier.3. I had a girl, preschool age who would rock against the front bar in her highchair and sexually excite herself every day at lunch. Then after nap she would creep around and try to injure the animals and weirdly spy on people. She would also hurt people, kids and adults. Her mother wanted her to have a bigger education so she put her in a preschool only to have her get kicked out every day so her mom would have to pick her up and bring her back to my house. Every day. I spoke to her mom about symptoms of abuse, she denied anything was going on.4. One of the nicest, friendliest children was an absolute magnet for injuries. One day he fell off the indoor jungle gym. When he sat up his wrist was bent in a way that no wrist should be. He grabbed it and flapped it and went “Aaarrrhhh!!!” and set it! Then his mom took him to the ER for X Rays and a cast.A year later he's back at the hospital with a hair from my son's tarantula in his eye.Two years after that I watched him jump down a hill and get up with a stick through his foot.

Cooking is in itself a therapeutic activity. After a long day at work, I love coming back home to the kitchen to cook a lovely meal for myself. It gives me peace and a sense of deep satisfaction. For some, cooking may be a chore. But for me, it’s the best escapade available!When family and friends come over, I make it a point to cook for them. There is no greater happiness than when someone devours a meal I made. Of all the dishes that I’ve cooked, my favorite happens to be the baked bean sauce and brown bread in a can.I store multiple cans of beans at home throughout the year. When I need to cook a special meal for someone, I bring out the cans and shower some of my magic on the humble beans. They turn out to be the best, every single time!I love serving the baked bean sauce with some extra crispy canned brown bread. The idea of eating bread from a can might sound crazy but trust me, it is delicious! The bread has a tinge of bitterness accompanied by a mild sweetness. While packaged canned bread is always available, I like mine homemade.Baked Bean Sauce RecipeIngredients:Navy white beansCider vinegarMustardSaltGingerBaking SodaOnionsBarbecue sauceBaconMolassesInstructions:Wash the beans and let them soak in water overnight.Drain the water and add fresh water to the beans. Add some baking soda and let the beans boil.Preheat the oven at the required temperature.In a cooking pot, add the onions, bacon, and other ingredients. Pour the beans and the liquid into the pot, and stir well.Let the beans bake until they’re tender.Canned Brown Bread RecipeIngredients:EggsRaisinsWheat FlourGround cornmealButtermilkBaking sodaOilMolassesInstructions:Put the cornmeal, wheat flour, and baking soda into a bowl.Add the oil, molasses, buttermilk, eggs, and raisins to the mixture.Empty two large cans, and pour the mixture into them. Cover the top of the cans with aluminum foil.Boil some water in a large bowl and let the cans heat up in the boiling water.The bread should be cooked until it signNowes a cake-like texture.Follow this much-celebrated Boston baked bean sauce and canned brown bread recipe to achieve the best results.This is my favorite meal, both, to cook and to eat. Let me know how whether it turned out to be your favorite meal to make.

Useless? Maybe. Interesting? Hell yeah!!1) 52 Have you heard of 52? Chances are,you have not. So what is so special about this number?I have nothing to say about the number. On the other hand,let me introduce you to a giant that will surely tug our heart strings.Imagine a giant,in a unfathomably vast expanse of emptiness. For decades,it has been drifting alone, waiting for someone….something, to return its call. Its voice is different,maybe indecipherable for its fellow kinds. Has uniqueness left this gentle giant cursed?For those of who have been wondering, this touching tale is the story of a whale named “52” , quite aptly described by media as the world’s loneliest whale. This particular whale is unique in the sense that its calls were recorded to be of a frequency that was higher than it is usual for whales to produce(15 to 40 Hz).The first record of this whale was made in 1989 ,when the hydrophones that were once used by the US to pick up the Soviet Submarines picked up this interesting call. This odd call was then speculated to be caused by either a malformed whale or a hybrid of two different species of whales. Over the years,there have been more speculations that it is not just a unique loner,but there may be others like it. There is also a debate on whether animals like whales actually feel “loneliness” like human beings.But do not worry about 52’s survival. Researchers have been able to hear its call every year as of 2014. In fact, its call has also deepened to around 46 Hz ,which indicates that it is growing and thriving quite well.To this day,no one has ever reported to have actually “seen” 52.2) Mosquito Bite ToolkitWho would’ve guessed that the “needle” of a mosquito contains 6 different structures that helps it to pierce our tough skin?6 different structures,all enclosed in a sheath called labium. The six different structures are:1 labrum1 hypopharynxA pair of mandibleA pair of maxillaIf you are particularly interested to know more about this,you can find some more details here.Joshy Antony's answer to How do mosquitoes penetrate through a tough surface like human skin with their fragile mouth?3) Cigarette Smoking is actually associated with lower risk of developing Ulcerative Colitis!!Ulcerative Colitis is a type of disease that affects your bowel causing ulcerations,more frequently on your rectum and large intestine,and a host of other extra intestinal manifestations.Needless to say,this is one disease you really do not want to have.We usually associate smoking with deleterious effects on health right? Yet, it was observed in certain studies that the incidence of Ulcerative Colitis was lower in people who smoked ,and that there was a decrease in the intensity of symptoms in people who already had Ulcerative Colitis when they began smoking.Now why is the fact useless? Because how could we prescribe cigarettes to a patient? (unless of course you are House MD)4) Peeing upside downThe insanely popular physicist Richard P Feynman once got into an argument with his colleagues on whether peeing happened due to pressure or due to gravity. The matter was settled once and for all when he demonstrated to them the art of peeing upside down!5) Make speakers out of your mouthA weird one, I agree. I mean who would turn the up the volume on their earphones to its maximum and then jam them into their nostrils to hear the sound come out of your open mouth,your oral cavity acting somewhat like an amplifier? Well it is interesting enough to merit a try.6) Quantum SuicideThis is not a fact,but a thought experiment to be precise.Many of us are familiar with the Schrödinger's cat thought experiment. But this is far more interesting, yet works on a similar principle. This was a thought experiment developed by Mark Tegmark in relation to the Many Worlds Theory, the brainchild of Hugh Everett |||Basically, this theory states that for every action that happens ,the universe splits itself(yeah, literally) to accommodate all possible outcomes due to that action. I’ll make this more clear with an example. Let us assume that you toss a coin. There are two possibilities here,either you get a head or you get a tail. The Many Worlds Theory says that once you observe the coin,the universe splits into two “parallel” universes. In one universe ,you will find that you have got a tail and in the other you’ll find that you would have got a head. But each of the “you” would not be aware of anything about the other “you” that has split off into the parallel universe. This phenomena occurs for every action occurring in nature.Now let us set up this mind blowing experiment.There is a special gun that detects the spin of a quark (the stuff that subatomic particles are made up of). If the spin of this quantum particle is say, in the clockwise direction,the gun would fire the bullet when the man pulls the trigger;and if the spin is in the counterclockwise direction,the gun does not fire the bullet when the man pulls the trigger. Oh…did I forget to mention that the gun is pointed towards the man’s head with exact precision that is guaranteed to bring instantaneous death? This set up taps into the quantum world to either fire the bullet or not based on the quantum state of the quark.Now put yourself in the place of this unfortunate man and guess what you would feel when you pull the trigger……………………………Nothing happens.Why? Because since the quark can exist in two states ,therefore there are two possibilities. As soon as the trigger is pulled, there are two outcomes,either the quark was spinning clockwise or it was spinning counterclockwise. Therefore the universe splits at this point. In one universe,you would lie dead and cold in a pool of blood,with your brain matter sploshed out of your skull,and in the other you would survive. But for you (the one who survived),you will feel as if nothing had happened,because you are unaware of what happened in the other parallel universe. Therefore,you would feel that you are seemingly surviving each time you are pulling the trigger,whereas in reality you are killing your other self in the other parallel universes(which split off each time you pull the trigger),all this while being completely unaware of “you” dying in the other parallel universes.Keep reading :)

Constantly.In 11th grade, we had to write a parody of a famous work. We would then have to read the entire thing in class. Most students parodied a short story, or a poem.I parodied Hamlet. The whole play. Every line.I called it “Omelet, Prince of Eggmark”We performed it in class. It took 4 days.Oh, and there was the time I found out my teacher’s password and used it to change his alert sound to “Joe MacDonald would not approve of this” in my very distinctive voice. I then changed his password so that when he tried to log in the next morning, his computer repeatedly told him (in my voice…and I sat in the front row) that Joe MacDonald (my friend and notorious super-nerd) would not approve.Or when I taught History class because I bet my teacher I could get 100% on a quiz before he finished passing them out. Nailed that lesson.Oh, and the time my physics teacher was filling out the form for students going to Science Olympiad and I told him my address was 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. But I spelled it out (one-six-zero-zero P-E-N-N-…) so he totally went with it.Or when I learned how to make the same whistle as the wind would make in that same physics classroom. When that whistle started up, my physics teacher frantically closed the windows because the sound drove him nuts. It took him a couple of days to figure out I was making the sound.But my favorite had to be Spanish lab. We had this classroom where everyone wore headphones with a microphone. We all had to speak along with what was being said, and she could randomly make one person in the room audible to everyone else.So I practiced impersonating the voice of the person who did the Spanish voice. I remember it like it was yesterday… “Listo? Empiece. Numero Uno….”I kinda knew she’d pick me first, and when she did she was convinced that the machine was broken. She kept coming back to me and hearing not my voice but the voice of the Spanish narrator.Got out of a whole day of Spanish homework thanks to that little stunt.So, I love it when students troll me. But only when they do it in an intelligent and creative way. That’s the gold right there.Looking back on it, I guess I started my career in devastations younger than I thought…

This is something I wrote a few years back about the side show that is the Italian-American wake. Every word is true.I'm not joking when I say that I knew the phrase "Think of me as dead" before I was ten. I was nine in the Fall of 1975, when most of my grandfather's side of the family just ceased to exist. At Easter we were eating ham in the traditional Italian-American basement of my great aunts, with its commercial oven and seating for 25; by Thanksgiving I wasn't supposed to make eye contact with them. There were several reasons for this, none of which, surprisingly, involve a bowl of sauce. My favorite is that when my Russian great-grandmother died, they sent Aunt Rose's husband Johnny as an "emissary" to the funeral. This violates Italian-American protocol in two ways. One, you can only send an emissary if you are not related, and two, he was an asshole. My grandmother literally referred to him as "Asshole Johnny V----". As long as he or his wife weren't in the room, that's what she called him, like it was a title or something.Five years of no contact go by and then my grandfather's brother "Rip" dies in his sleep. Rip's real name was Rocco, which I only found out when I read his obituary. Few things sum up the Italian-American experience better than only discovering your relatives' real names after they died. I had no idea I had an Uncle Rocco, although I guess I really didn't have an Uncle Rocco, because, you know, he was dead to me. Sometimes it's hard to keep track of who's actually dead.Back then I guess the official stance of my side of the family allowed for a "truce" for funerals. In every off the boat or first-generation Italian-American family there must be someone in charge of histrionics, a role historically taken by the oldest woman in the family. There were five brothers and two sisters in my grandfather's family, so that duty fell to the oldest sister Rose, with younger sister Mae serving as Rose's "hype-man", Flavor Flav to Rose's Chuck D. Of course were Rose to be unable to perform her duties for any reason, Mae could ably step in.Rip's death was the first since Rose's mother Laboria's funeral 11 years before, which had been Rose's first solo turn after years of backing up her mother. I was too young to catch that performance, but I was old enough to see this, like turning 21 and being able to see shows at bars.It's the night of the wake. Rose, pro that she is, waits until the place is packed to start her act. It's not out of the question that she blocked out her moves to an empty house earlier in the day, but then again she *was* a natural. There is a line out the door when Rose enters(stage left, I think) gets a few feet from the front of the casket, looks up and shouts:
"68 YEARS LORD, TAKE ME INSTEAD! WHY, GOD, WHY?" 
That last line was sort of her catchphrase, like "Sit on it" or "Book 'em Danno."
The crowd is transfixed. She owns the room. This is her moment! But where do you go after an entrance like that? How do you give them more? But this is Aunt Rose we're talking about. Her sauce is better than yours. Her *grief* is better than yours, dammit! She straddles the casket. I repeat, SHE STRADDLES THE FUCKING CASKET. This 69 year old broad straddles her brother's casket, grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and shouts to the rafters:
"68 YEARS LORD! TAKE ME INSTEAD". 
She pulls on his jacket so hard that you can see his head lift off the casket pillow. 
"68 YEARS LORD! TAKE ME INSTEAD".
The audience stares in rapt attention. My cousin Bobby looks at me and silently makes a clapping gesture. 
"68 YEARS LORD! TAKE ME INSTEAD".
"68 YEARS LORD! TAKE ME INSTEAD".
"68 YEARS LORD! TAKE ME INSTEAD".
She climbs off the casket with no hair out of place, clothes as perfect as when she put them on. This woman knows what she's doing. She is led off by another mourner, almost certainly a plant in the audience.There is no encore.This happened a decade later. Rose was a bonafide superstar.THE RETURN OF AUNT ROSEAfter the family truce at my great Uncle Rip’s funeral my Aunt Rose’s side of the family went back to celebrating holidays in their basement kitchen and my side went back to not hearing what expensive NYC store Rose had purchased whatever articles of clothing and jewelry she had on at the moment. For almost a decade the only contact I had with Rose and her sister Mae was the time I ran into them at the Post Mall, which was especially awkward since they were technically dead to me at the time, meaning I should only talk to them if there was a corpse in the room. Since I had last seen them, they had traded hair colors, with Mae swapping her Geriatric Blonde for Rose’s Menopause Red, with the result being that I had a hard time telling which was which. This forced me me to address them as one entity-“Nice to see you Aunt RoseandMae!”, “I’ll be sure to tell my mom you say hi, Aunt RoseandMae!” Years later I would meet the hairdresser responsible for those colors when he would come over their house and utter bitchy one liners whenever they were out of earshot, like the wacky gay neighbor in a sitcom. I’m sure he only befriended them for the anecdotes.Toward the end of the eighties we kept up with the times and entered our own period of glasnost, mostly as a result of God taking yet another brother from Rose. I missed that one, since at the time he died, he was already dead to me. That kind of makes attending the funeral redundant, although you do end up missing a killer grief buffet. We didn’t go back to Christmas dinner in the basement kitchen but would stop by on holidays which is how my then girlfriend got to witness Mae picking up a photo of her grand niece and saying “And this my beautiful Downs Syndrome child.” It sounded like expository dialogue from “Dynasty”, although sadly Rose and Mae never had a Crystal/Alexis catfight, which their sunken living room would have been perfect for, with its full length oil portrait of their mother Laboria looking down as they pulled each other’s dyed hair.A year or so after our reconciliation my grandfather was killed in a hold up at his store. My family rush over to my grandmother’s, and everyone is sobbing when the phone rings. One of us takes the call and as soon they hang up says “Shit! Rose and Mae are on their way!” Let that sink in, my grandfather has just been murdered and his family is upset that *his sisters are coming over*. It’s like a blood stained Jackie Kennedy going ‘What the fuck is Teddy doing here?”Since we’re Italian Americans and live close enough to each other that you don’t have to reheat the lasagna you bring to Easter it’s not ten minutes later when last year’s fully loaded Sedan DeVille pulls up in front of the house. Saks Fifth Avenue heels clack on the walkway as Rose runs into the house and throws open the kitchen door.“WHY IS MY MOTHER TAKING ALL MY BROTHERS FROM ME? WHY WON’T SHE LEAVE ME ANY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS, LABORIA?” Mae runs in behind her, but with no tagline of her own, partially because of protocol(she has not yet ascended the ranks to Lead Griever, after all) but mostly because how the hell do you follow that? It’s the “Sergeant Pepper’s” of histrionic grief.Bringing up the rear is their brother Paulie, which kind of kills the whole “My dead mother is taking all my brothers from me” thing, but Rose isn’t going to let numbers get in the way of a good performance.For the rest of the evening if our attention strayed too far from Rose she would start shouting to the kitchen light, which I guess was serving as a stand-n for the Heavens.“WHY ARE YOU SO GREEDY LABORIA? WHY MUST YOU TAKE MY BROTHERS FROM ME? WHY, LABORIA, WHY?”For those you keeping track at home, the scorecard reads Rose: 2 brothers, Rose’s mom: 3 brothers.

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