Liste: 0033891061713… – Französische Spam Anrufe in Italien (Chiamate di spam francese in Italia)

  • +33891061713
  • +33891061714
  • +33891061715
  • +33891061716

Derzeit rufen sehr viele Rufnummern aus Frankreich aus der obigen Liste in Italien an. Wahrscheinlich handelt es sich dabei um Ping-Calls. Rufen Sie nicht zurück!

Italiano

Attualmente ci sono molte chiamate dalla Francia all’Italia dalla lista di cui sopra. Queste probabilmente sono chiamate ping. Non richiamare!

Français

Il y a actuellement beaucoup d’appels de France vers l’Italie à partir de la liste ci-dessus. Ce sont probablement des appels de ping. Ne rappelle pas !

English

There are currently a lot of calls from France to Italy from the above list. These are probably ping calls. Don’t call back!

Spam Anruf von 004174389045 (Spam Call from +4174389045)

(English Version below)

Die Rufnummer +4174389045 ist aus der Schweiz.

Von ihr gehen viele Anrufe in Deutschland aber auch Großbritannien aus.

Die Rufnummer ist verantwortlich für Ping Anrufe, d.h., es wird nur kurz geklingelt, damit Sie zurückrufen.

Teilweise wird über diese Rufnummer auch versucht, Immobilien zu verkaufen.

Die 004174389097, die 004174389086 und die 004174389099 zeigen ein ähnliches Anrufverhalten.

English Version:

The phone number +4174389045 is from Switzerland,

Many calls in Germany but also in Great Britain originate from her.

The phone number is responsible for ping calls, i.e. it only rings briefly to get you to call back. Some times this number is also used to try to sell property.

The +4174389097, +4174389086 and +4174389099 show a similar call behavior.

Gedicht: Twas the night before Christmas

‚Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‚kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
„Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!“
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Dieses Gedicht erschien 1832 in den USA ohne Autorenangabe. Wahrscheinlich stammt es von Clement Clarke Moore, möglicherweise aber auch von Major Henry Livingston Jr. Es ist ein wichtiger Schritt bei der Entwicklung der Figur des Weihnachtsmanns. Unter anderem werden hier die Rentiere zum ersten mal namentlich erwähnt.