a word of advice , stop using internet explorer <| sep |> if you dont know how to find the ip of your router , turn off your PC and go become Amish . <| sep |> Burning Down the Nicotine Armoire is one of their best songs IMO . Mess brings in the power at the beginning and I love the lyrics , And we framed these moments til one remaining cold calculated thought . So beautiful . And then of course Jonny comes in and has the voice of an angel . I actually disliked it at first . Couldn ' t stand it . But the more I listened to WISIRO , the more I loved it . You will never hear anything like it , its so unique . I have a strong feeling that I ' ll be listening to this record til the day I die . <| sep |> Deer Satan , ' Goat , ' he corrected the accidental animalbased address in his mind before continuing . If you ' re going to make a mistake , it may as well be anatomically correct . For christmas ths year , I would like a special presnetSatan ' s eyes lazily followed the lines of barely legible handwriting , his eyebrows occasionally twisting above the thin frame of his reading glasses as he paused to decipher a word or phrase . Over the past few decades , since good old ' Saint Nic ' had been rebranded as ' Santa ', these letters had started to arrive every November . For reasons unknown even to him , he hadn ' t told anyone . It wasn ' t that he cared about them , of course . Such an idea was absurd . He was Satan , lord of the damned , ruler of the depths of hell . Answering poorly written letters from children dullwitted enough to still believe in Santa Claus wasn ' t part of the job description not that Santa wasn ' t real , but rather that ' intelligent ' children usually decided otherwise by an early enough age and he certainly wasn ' t predisposed to give a damn about the authors . Nonetheless , every year he found himself here , sitting in this chair on Christmas Eve with a mountain of letters from children whose parents probably would have proofread them first if they believed they had even the slightest chance of being sent to the addressee . The letter inhand continued . My daddy is very nice . He fixes cars and his name is Bob . But he is gone and Mammy is sad . Can you brign him back please . Love , Mary Turner . That was the end of the letter . Satan put it down in the ' read ' pile and went to pick up the next one but something tugged at the back of his mind . He stared down at the letter . The scrawled writing danced , illuminated by the eternal fireplace that occupied the back wall of his bedroom chamber . After a few seconds he picked it up again . ' He fixes cars and his name is Bob ' Wheels turned inside his head . Suddenly , something clicked . Satan stood up and strode quickly out of the room . Minions scurried as his door flew open and a thundering voice bellowed BRING ME ROBERT TURNERThe miserable figure before him trembled . Robert Turner a thoroughly failed car mechanic in that he was neither a skilled one nor , presently , a living one . He wore the ragged clothes he had died in . Grease and oil stains covered him like a sore attempt at camouflage , perhaps to blend into the squalid body shop he had passed most of his days in . Robert . Bob . Bobby Turner , what ' s this ? Ah yes , later in life even occasionally referred to as Bob ' the fixer ' Turner , but not for your handy work with cars , it would seem . Bob Turner remained silent . He shook violently , involuntarily from head to foot . His gaze remained glued to the floor a few feet in front of him . He held a filthy rag in the manner of a child holding their blanket and desperately avoided eye contact with the horned , hoofed , and apparently omniscient figure staring him down . Please , Bob , continued Satan calmly , I ' ve gone to a lot of trouble to bring you here . I had to think through the sixty million souls that have passed my way since your arrival . The least you could do is indulge me in some pleasant conversation . Bob ' s lips flapped back and forth a few times before he managed to stammer a response . Wwwhat do you want . ser . sir ? Satan laughed malicuously at the feeble address , but it was short lived . With a wave of his hand , he forced the quivering man ' s head to lift . Bob Turner stared Satan in the eyes . You know why you ' re here , Bob , don ' t you ? Without warning , Bob ' s composure seemed to collapse , though his eyes were still immovably fixed on those of his captor . I ' m sorry ! he wailed , the money was too good , I couldn ' t resist . I had to do it for my family . Oh ? And what about their family , Bob ? Again , his mouth flapped open and closed . No answer came to mind . How would you like to make a deal with the Devil , Bob ? I promise it not as bad as all those stories suggest . Bob ' s face was released from the magical grip , he rubbed his jaw , wiped his cheeks and looked up . What do you want ? I want to give you a chance to say goodbye to Mary . To give her a happier ending than you already have . The shock on the poor man ' s face was almost painful to watch . Almost . He managed to recover and put together another sentence . What . what do I have to do ? Oh , nothing much , really . Satan let the words linger for just a second , throwing Bob a menacing smile . I have a position I need filled permanently . You would take that position and do whatever work is involved . What is it ? Bob asked , fear evident in his voice . Satan paused again and pretended to study his fingernails for both theatrical reasons and in order to let Bob ' s imagination run wild . When he looked up , he asked Does it matter ? Is there a sacrifice , a job , a cost , that you would not pay for this opportunity ? Bob did not hesitate No ! No . I ' ll do it , whatever it is . Good Satan smiled again . That is precisely what I wanted to hearWith no more being said , Bob felt flames lick at his feet . A burning pain shot through him . He tried to move but was fixed to the floor , the flames licking farther and father up his legs . Through the searing heat and blinding light , he noticed an odd smile on the Devil ' s face . Somehow , he thought , it didn ' t suit him . Then he vanished . Mary Turner lay awake , again , in her bed . Christmas Eve felt different to her this year . Usually , she was awake with excitement , looking out her window , watching the sky for a sleigh and a bright red nose . This year she stared at the clock as it ticked towards midnight . Something in her told her the letter would either be answered then or not at all . She clung tight to Mr . Rags , her favourite toy . The clock drove forwards unforgivingly , inconsiderately , painfully . Her heart raced as the final minute approached and the second hand began its final lap . Thirty seconds . Tears welled up in her eyes . Twenty seconds . She gripped Mr . Rags with all her might . Ten seconds . She watched helplessly as the final seconds ticked past , waiting for the blow of midnight to come , but it did not . Through blurred vision , she saw the second hand frozen at 115959 . She lay still . The sound of her breath had somehow become incredibly loud the the room the city outside had grown deathly silent . Deathly still . She got out of bed and went over to the window . Snowflakes hung in the air . People stood as if frozen midstep on the sidewalk . The trees were like statues not a leaf moved . Suddenly , Mary heard a voice she would recognize anywhere . Mary ? . She turned from the window to see her father standing there , the stained work clothes she remembered so well . The smell of grease she loved because it reminded her of him . The floodgates opened and she ran full speed into him . Bob Turner embraced his daughter , his cheeks as wet as hers . Hey honey . listen , we ' ve got some time and then I have to go again , but there are some things I need to explain . Satan sat again in his chair by the eternal fireplace . Again , this year , the mountain of unread letters lay in wait on the table to his left . A knock on his door signaled the arrival he was waiting for . He stood slowly , walked across the room and opened it . Bob , he said , you ' re just in time . Your reading list awaits .