Litre
The litre (International spelling) or liter (American spelling) (SI symbols L or l, commonly, but incorrectly, abbreviated as ltr) is an SI accepted metric system unit of volume equal to 1 cubic decimetre (dm3), 1,000 cubic centimetres (cm3) or 1/1,000 cubic metre. A cubic decimetre (or litre) occupies a volume of 10×10×10 centimetres (see figure) and is thus equal to one-thousandth of a cubic metre.
The original French metric system used the litre as a base unit. The word litre is derived from an older French unit, the litron, whose name came from Greek - where, perversely, it was a unit of weight, not volume - via Latin, and which equalled approximately 0.831 litres. The litre was also used in several subsequent versions of the metric system and is accepted for use with the SI, although not an official SI unit—the SI unit of volume is the cubic metre (m3). The spelling used by the International Bureau of Weights and Measures is "litre", a spelling which is shared by almost all English-speaking countries. The less common spelling of "liter" is more predominantly used in American English.
Podcasts:
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by Fun Lovin Criminals
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by Holly Tree
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by Sights & Sounds
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by Eddy Zoey
Dickholder
by: Fun Lovin CriminalsThe only easy day is yesterday,
Go on and pull me underwater,
I know you really can?t be that blind son,
But I think you think you?re that much smarter
It makes it that much more defined (?)
Now cough it up and call your mother,
I see you just can't find the time,
But time found me without much bother,
I saw that boy become a man,
He bathed in blood just like his father,
And while in golden gloves and gown (?),
He found he wasn't that much smarter
Now what's in you that is your own,
Not something you found on the highway,
I remember that time so long ago,
When you bought your soul and threw a party
Now paint your face, take to the trees,
There?s more to you than just your cover,
You?ve got them all down on their knees,
You?ve got them fuckking one another
You Djed blue and you Djed black,
So long as they count to a thousand,
Now get it on, don't break your back,
And don?t walk through the public housing (?)
Now, hey, Dickholder who's your man?
The scraps you catch past the table,
You make it all sound like your plan,
But what you do to get that label?
GUITAR SOLO
Now, hey, Dickholder who's your man?
The scraps you catch past the table,
You make it all sound like your plan,
But what you do to get that label?