Župić is a village in Croatia. It is connected by the D37 highway.
Coordinates: 45°25′43″N 16°13′48″E / 45.42861°N 16.23000°E / 45.42861; 16.23000
United Press International (UPI) is an international news agency, whose newswires, photo, news film and audio services provided news material to thousands of newspapers, magazines and radio and television stations for most of the 20th century. At its peak, it had more than 6,000 media subscribers. Since the first of several sales and staff cutbacks in 1982, and the 1999 sale of its broadcast client list to its rival, the Associated Press, UPI has concentrated on smaller information-market niches.
Formally named "United Press Associations" for incorporation and legal purposes, but publicly known and identified as United Press or UP, it was created by the 1907 uniting of three smaller news syndicates by the Midwest newspaper publisher E. W. Scripps. It was headed by Hugh Baillie (1890-1966) from 1935 to 1955. At the time of his retirement, UP had 2,900 clients in the United States, and 1,500 abroad.
In 1958 it became United Press International after absorbing the International News Service (INS). As either UP or UPI, the agency was among the largest newswire services in the world, competing domestically for about 90 years with the Associated Press and internationally with AP, Reuters and Agence France-Presse.
UPI can stand for:
Places:
Tomorrow's coming 'round
A hair-pin curve in the road
She's got a run in her stocking
And she's missing the heel of her shoe
Got up this morning rolled out of bed
I spilled a diet coke
Called my mother said, "Hi"
What I meant to say was, "Why is your life a joke?"
Then, I went down to that ugly bar and
I clicked my heels three times just like you said
And I climbed that road to your empty house
The anticipation was a turn on
But you let me down
'Coz, I stood on that empty street alone
I said, "I'm ready for my close up now, Mr. Demille"
I waited for the light, but it never shone
Well I wonder what you do with that expensive piece of land
That overlooks a billion years of history
I have a sneaking suspicion, you will never understand
Hey maybe I'll see you down by the Rocky and Bullwinkle
And we can talk to that charlatan psychic
And she can paint a prettier picture of your future
'Coz that day in my life, that day in my life
I dreamt tomorrow, had a prettier face
I dreamt tomorrow, would have better things to say
Than, "You look like shit, what's your problem, bitch?
You're legs feel like sandpaper, you can't do anything right"
'Coz that day, never should have taken place
'Coz this day, in my life still cannot explain
Why I listened in the first place to you?
Oh yeah, something else
I hope one day you call up your father
And you have the guts to tell him, how he hurt you
And he made you hurt another