Josie maran get even sun milk
2014.02.01 02:10 OzkanTheFlip 2ChainzHolyGrailPoopOnMyChest666HailStanNoScopedSixFeetUnderTheBStandsForBroadus
The B Stands For Broadus
2023.03.31 08:44 joclfi To those who have high lipase BM
Hi all! If you have high lipase breastmilk, do you notice anything that affects how quickly your milk “turns”? Sometimes my milk smells like nothing immediately after pumping, whereas other times I get a strong, soapy scent right away. Same thing with bottles in the fridge - some bottles will smell soapy/metallic once warmed while others won’t, even if they were pumped on the same day. I don’t scald any of my milk. I’m curious if anyone else has noticed any patterns? Thanks in advance :)
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2023.03.31 08:39 Ilyak1986 GGG, the Pathfinder "rework" feels *awful*, because it feels like a lot of the nodes work against one another. Furthermore, there is very little support for different flask playstyles on the tree.
So, as a bigtime Pathfinder aficionado, the rework just...does not work for me. I'll explain several of the problems.
Nature's Boon feels extremely scuffed as a node. Consider a build that uses one life flask and one unique flask. Suddenly, nature's boon only applies to three flasks. So if you want to do something like two unique flasks (taste of hate, progenesis) and a life flask, not only is this node awful for your build, but it also cuts off access entirely to the next node, since it's the only way to access it.
Master Alchemist: it's decent now--however, there's no way to actually continue to capitalize on the percent chance to not consume flask charges. 50% chance to not consume is nice, but you just removed the ability to craft that mod onto the belt. Coupled with a lack of mastery options for also reducing chance to consume flask charges, and this is a node that players basically cannot try and min-max, so this makes it an undependable 4-point node--and the flasks that you want to sustain with it, are, surprise surprise, things like dying sun, vessel of vinktar, and so on--namely, unique flasks. So putting this node behind the "DON'T USE UNIQUE FLASKS!" node feels self-defeating.
Master Distiller: this node feels like it's a node against itself in so many ways. I'll break it down:
It has a crit beneficial mode (straightforward enough), an elemental damage beneficial mode (sort of...), and a chaos damage benefiting mode (again, sort of). However, the first test to see if these mods would work together completely misses on both the elemental and the chaos modes!
Namely, what happens if you use a Voltaxic Rift? Well, ele pen doesn't work because the elemental damage gets converted into chaos, and the chaos damage portion doesn't work either, because the bow does next to no physical damage! Master Distiller felt like it should have been a case of "do you do elemental damage? Here's more ele damage. Do you do chaos damage? Here's more chaos damage." But instead, it specifies a very particular type of build, which the old Veteran Bowyer also did--namely, phys -> ele conversion, or bust. The "gain 15% of physical damage as a random element" was thankfully removed, but the new mods, even assuming they could be sustained, just do not work to enable more builds.
And then, of course, is the fact that if you're a fast-attacking build, this node will just drain your flasks that much more quickly. Lategame when you're attacking multiple times a second with a bow attack, oops, these flasks will just drain in a hurry against a boss, and it feels like there's basically no way to really refill them, since flask charges on crit has an inherent 100 MS CD, so critting 20x a second with a tornado shot will just run into the cooldown wall.
This is a node that basically goes against the ranger playstyle of "attack like a machine gun", and promotes a very particular setup of phys -> ele conversion, that grants a little bit of chaos as a bonus. Just...a very badly thought-through node.
Nature's Adrenaline: what adrenaline? We just lost the movement speed and attack speed from the old nature's adrenaline, just to get it replaced with a part of the old nature's boon. It feels like the old "not even onslaught" could have been kept on this node, in addition to the 3 flask charges per 3 seconds.
Master Surgeon: again, what surgeon mod? No more flask charges on crit! Enduring life flasks at half the rate is...interesting, I guess? But this node, again, is useless if there's no life flask, and if there is, it takes away from "Nature's boon", since that's one less slot for magical utility flasks.
Nature's Reprisal: basically a wash with the old variant, but he loss of AoE on toxic rain stings.
Master Toxicist: unchanged.
Furthermore: the mastery changes brutalized Pathfinders. The loss of 1 utility charge per 3 seconds and loss of 10% inc. effect of flasks on you are both brutal. The loss of "1 utility charge per 3" is essentially a "25% less flask charges gained" penalty for many builds, and the 10% inc. effect of flasks on you, I suppose you think was folded into the new "Nature's Boon".
Honestly, this redesign feels like a mess. And I think people can even tell it was a mess, because GGG didn't even bother to change the names of the nodes. Nature's Adrenaline is now a massively scuffed Nature's Boon. Nature's boon is now a scuffed piece of master alchemist. Master Alchemist is now a roided up part of another part of Nature's Boon. Master Surgeon no longer grants charges on crit. Like I know these are small things, but when the team couldn't even come up with new names for the nodes, it feels like there wasn't that much thought put into these changes.
Overall, here's what Pathfinder lost:
30% AoE and 15% more chaos damage with attacks: this smacks toxic rain builds right in the teeth.
20% inc. attack speed and 15% inc. move speed: now the only ranger ascendancy without a speedup of any sort.
Master Surgeon ability is now just on the tree, so now any build can do the flagellant flasks + % life recovered on flask use when full. Heck, it can be done by characters on the top of the tree.
Add to this that so many of the flask masteries apply to life and mana flasks, and the whole "flask playstyle" just feels completely like a huge mess.
Pathfinder needed attention, and instead of attention, she got what feels like an abortion.
In fact, at this point, it honestly just makes more sense to roll a Scion pathfinder, as apparently, Ascendant now still has movement and attack speed in her Pathfinder ascendancy, that the Pathfinder herself no longer does?
Overall, it feels like this rework has enabled...some niche phys poison caster builds with Pathfinder thanks to the new Nature's Reprisal node (thinking blade vortex), but it just feels like a complete atrocity as far as regular ranger builds go.
I think this one is a pretty big whiff. The new master surgeon node is cool, as is the new nature's reprisal, but Pathfinder lost a LOT of tools.
I think one way to make it up is to create one more new node that has all the movement/attack/AoE buffs in one fell swoop.
10% increased action speed, you cannot be slowed during flask effect, 30% inc. AoE.
submitted by Ilyak1986
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2023.03.31 08:12 redkinoko Stop waiting for the company to promote you or give you a raise.
Your company is not your friend. It's not your parent. Stop giving it the responsibilities that should be in your hands. It has zero obligation to make you grow. Or pay you your worth. Your company is a customer that pays for your skill, energy, and time.
It will not negotiate for your maximum worth or even your fair value. It will aim for the lowest possible price that will not break your transaction. It's not being evil or oppressive that way. It's just how companies operate - by holding resources steady while minimizing resources to maximize profits.
You, on the other hand, are the person who has a limited number of hours in this lifetime that you can use for work. You are literally selling the best years of your life when you work. To leave the pricing of each minute, hour, day of your life to another person simply because you think that's just how things are supposed to work, is nothing short of allowing yourself to get scammed.
You need to maximize the pay for each minute of your life as much as you can. Maybe if you get enough, you might not need to sell all of it and spend more time for yourself, your passion, and your loved ones.
What I'm getting at is this:
You have to stop waiting for raises and promotions thinking the yearly appraisals or your "kind" manager will eventually notice your hard work and skills and give you your worth.
Make yourself indispensable then milk the ever living shit out of your situation.
You have to actively negotiate more when you think you deserve more. You have to learn to sell yourself and your achievements and capabilities without thinking you're doing something dirty.
Set up meetings with your bosses. If they don't want to, set up a meeting with their bosses. When should you do it? The best time for it is yesterday. The next best is today. Fuck fiscal years. If you're being underpaid now, you need to start fixing the situation NOW. Be cognizant of what you contribute to the company. Do away with the "I'm a fast learner", "I'm a team player" bullshit. Tell them how much money you help them make. Tell them how much better they are now because of you. Tell them how much your team literally depends on your output and knowledge. Tell them what they can get if you stay on for longer if they give you what you want. SELL YOURSELF. HARD.
Don't rely on the yearly performance appraisal bullshit. That's a circus to keep people just happy enough to stay for as long as possible. It's not a true negotiation of worth.
If you can let the company know your worth and if the company knows what they're doing, they will be willing to adjust to your demand for equity. True negotiation.
You don't need to threaten them with a job offer from another company to do this. Matter of fact, sometimes those even can get in the way. You will likely get a much better deal when you're still under their good graces than when you're blackmailing them for a counter offer.
You can always just say the truth: if you like where you are, tell them that you want to stay but you think you can get more for doing more. Companies aren't idiots in general. They know losing people will cost them more money in the long run because they lose tenured resources and have to spend more money to headhunt, screen, and train. They will bend if your demands are reasonable and attractive. For as long as you make yourself important enough to be sold at a fair value, you will have the seller's advantage in every negotiation. Ask for what you think you deserve. Tell them what they can get if they promote you. Demand concrete timelines. Follow up rigorously until you get what you set out to get.
And if, at the end of all that, you still cannot get what you want, then that's the time you go to another company. Because you know the true value of the time you have, and you are not running a charity.
You are running a business. Your trade is you. Your product is your life. Do not sell yourself short.
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2023.03.31 08:03 DorBenda Why does the NBA keep doing this?
It feels like a lot of big games were ruined due to one of the teams having to play the night before, it happened in both MIL - DEN matchups and tonight it ruined what should've been a battle between the best 2 teams in the NBA.
Denver also played the pelicans last night, therefore their matchup in Pheonix tonight will probably end up in a Suns blowout, even though Jokić sat out today what led to a blowout in New Orleans.
Please keep teams fresh before those big games, we only get a few of them in the regular season and a lot of them are destroyed by real injuries anyways.
submitted by DorBenda
to nba [link] [comments]
2023.03.31 07:58 TheBlueMoonEnigma 24 [M4A] Each person is a universe full of stories. Let's share some!
Hey! I'm just your average friendly neighborhood redditor looking to break out of my comfort zone and meet new people out there! I believe everyone has a story to tell, and I would love to hear yours+share a few of my own. It can be about pretty much anything under the sun from random kwentos, rants, and even deep convos (I'm told I follow in the footsteps of Uncle Iroh [if you get that, we vibe]). So let's share our stories and become an interconnected library of experiences :)
About Me: - Just a small guy living in an online world. - Into video games, anime, MCU, Disney shows, Musicals, Tech News, Cosplay - Introverted but working to strengthen my social battery - From the BIG 3 (this sort of thing keeps popping up??) - Working professional - SFW (I cant believe I still need to specify this.)
BONUS: I'm a novice cosplayer (MCU, Pokemon, Harry Potter, RWBY, BNHA) and would love to meet other cosplayers out there too!
submitted by TheBlueMoonEnigma
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2023.03.31 07:52 CrimsonCloverwriter Chapter Five : Where is Mona?
Hello and welcome to chapter five, below is a link to other chapters : A book about cycles, size and perception : CrimsonCloverwriter (reddit.com) The collective smiles. Through crowds it wanders unseen, down to the place where man rests. They are lined in their metallic coffins, hidden from view but evidently there, and the collective strolls between them. The collective salvates at the thought of him. Osmundowne, back for more? It had been such a long time, many of the collective had never seen him in the flesh. It was only their collectiveness that revealed Osmundowne, and the potential he brings. The collective’s minds race, clashing into each other, bickering and floating together in a true state of catharsis. One of the collective remarked at the dangers contacting Osmundowne could bring, but he was quickly shut out by the overwhelming potential. There was no time to worry, no moments to rest in this place, the time had come to leave this place and never come back, lest the collective risk falling to the blankness. The argument continued, rising in the collective’s head, until finally they reached Osmundowne’s prison. A sleek black gloss permeated the outer rim of this coffin, and through the wall the collective could hear it… the screams for something. The smile grew from ear to ear, and the collective moved their hands to the release.
The light had stretched to Osmund’s chest, revealing Osmund’s first true vision of what was below. Smooth stone floors were on the floor, sleekly carved and stretching around the room, bearing many hallmarks of the average fortress at a more even carving. Osmund also observed a small black object on his glass prison, and quickly realised it was a fly, buzzing in freedom. More of the room was revealed, and now Osmund could see to the other end of the room. It appeared to be a hallway of some sort, walls stretching down in both directions for an unknown distance. Directly across from Osmund was a large black object stretching far above into the ceiling. Strange objects connected to the object, resembling veins in the human body. On either side of the object were identical duplicates, leading Osmund to the conclusion of what he was inside of.
Beyond the black objects Osmund could see alabaster walls lining behind these prisons. The ceiling was high, even more so than the objects stretching to at the very least 30 feet in the air. A grey, foreign material looked down from this ceiling, and alongside it came a bright light, one that far exceeded the power of a lantern. It was cylindrical, pointing out of the ceiling and felt like looking at the sun itself. Osmund quickly averted his eyes.
No sound escaped the prison, and there was nothing more than silence in the air. There was no one around, the entire place appeared deserted, although there wasn’t enough information to make a sound judgement. Now with the gift of sight Osmund looked back to his own prison, making a few new judgements compared to before. The object attached to the rope appeared to be a piece of silver, with the shape of a strange key that seemingly clicked into the wall. Up above Osmund could see where he fell from, small holes that attached to the object he had taken with him. Above that Osmund could see an identical rope to the first and still failed to find any form of seam where the walls met. This place, while slightly better with light, was still going to remain Osmund’s prison.
Osmund was unnerved, but the terror of the black had faded. Now he knew there was a world out there, and the first thing to do was escape to it. He once again called out her name but to no avail, then he tried to slam himself against the glass, bouncing directly off. He searched his clothes, looking for any kind of material that may aid him in the future, however all was for naught. Osmund looked back to the outside, which remained alone, but then he saw it.
Across the ground, a dark shape appeared. A shadow. It was slowly edging closer and closer towards Osmund. He laughed to himself, a saviour was approaching, until he saw more of the shadow and began to worry. The lights appeared close together and yet this shadow was long, stretching far beyond a creature of human proportions. Osmund could see whatever was coming was tall, at the very least 17 ft tall, in line with such tall ceilings.
Slowly the shadow creeped closer, long since past the threshold of a human’s form, and Osmund began to feel the anxiety pressing in. An immense weight pressed down onto Osmund, shattering through his defences and beginning to make him lose himself to the fear. The shadow edged ever closer, and now it was just outside his sight, waiting to reveal itself and whatever monstrous creation it could be.
A hand stretched into Osmund’s view, reaching forward for something. The hand was similar to Osmund’s own, sharing the same basic concepts of a human hand, and yet things were mismanaged, abnormal. The skin was a sickly green, with purplish veins along the hand. Its fingers were each at least thirty centimetres, and Osmund could see the thumb was absent, a stump being all that was left. Surprisingly the hand’s nails were neatly trimmed, and the hand grabbed one side of the prison, using it to pull the unknown entity’s body towards Osmund’s sight.
There was a moment of peace before the full form of the figure appeared, and then it filled Osmund’s sight, everything it was taking up the glass in its entirety. Osmund froze, observing the eldritch creature in all its glory. A giant hulking mass of green flesh, the creature stood to be almost 18 ft tall, towering over Osmund. The creature was a poor attempt at making a human, with physical aspects such as the head, centre and limbs all being present, and yet they were all distorted, misunderstood, a half recollection of what man looks like.
The creature’s arms began as broad shoulders, Suddenly forming the shape of arms as they got further and further across. The shoulders themselves were an extension of a thick, pudgy neck, and even from below Osmund could see large clumps of bone extending through the throat, barely hidden by the skin. The creature’s legs were practically non-existent, seeming to meld together from the hip bone below. There was seemingly no gap between the thing’s legs, however Osmund couldn’t be sure due to the creature’s attire. The clothes were simple, a jumpsuit of some kind atop the creature’s waist ending in a black skirt to accommodate for the thing’s legs. In all honesty the clothes appeared to be finely crafted, and yet Osmund couldn’t comprehend what tailor would provide clothes for such a beast. Being so tall Osmund couldn’t see the thing’s face, only that it was looking down towards him.
The creature lowered its face, pressing its two long hands against the glass to steady itself. And now Osmund could see its face in full form, the abomination’s misshapen illusion of human form given shape from a talentless creator. The creature had those remnants of human design, eyes, a nose and a mouth, and yet it completely misunderstood the purpose of these things, their natural harmonic placement. The creature’s eyes were on either side of its head, with the nose breaching the location of the forehead. The creature’s mouth began far lower than any human, presenting the thing’s bluish gums to Osmund, and two rows of teeth. The mouth ended higher than it should, presenting much the same thing.
Osmund revolted at the creature, it was a disgrace, a misshapen reimagining of the human form, an unfinished project that was never started to begin with. Something foul made this beast, this undercooked piece of monstrous meat that now perverted the natural existence of nature. There was no divinity in this creature that existed in all others, there was only the soul of a tree stump. It had evidence of what once could be but was now never to be. This thing was a dishevelled replication of what humans should be, and would never match the majestic nature of the human form.
The thing, this monster, this abomination raised its hand, slowly tapping the glass. Even through such thick glass Osmund could hear the thumps of its incessant tapping. The creature’s mouth began to contort, moving up and down, stretching horizontally, tongue rising and lowering in the back of its mouth. It was trying to communicate. Osmund felt safe for now, knowing the creature couldn’t get to him at least for a time, and began to shiver at the thought of this abomination’s potential voice.
Its mouth contorted again, only this time the contortion was in slight befuddlement, and for a moment Osmund breathed a sigh of relief. The creature must lack intelligence to attempt speaking through the wall, but then the loud cracking began. It shattered Osmund’s ears, screeched inside and penetrated him, forcing itself into his head until finally it stopped. Osmund’s ears were covered by his hands, which he promptly lowered. One of the beast’s hands had slid out of sight onto something out of view, and remained there. A voice echoed through the room as the creature resumed its vocal contortions.
“Well hello there, why are you clutching your ears? Was it a bit loud? Sorry that I’m not good with these techy things. But I guess neither are you huh? I’m actually a big fan, maybe soon you could sign a shirt or something, I’ll ask later. So I see your belt must’ve snapped, sorry if you’re hurt, are you? You should actually still be asleep but sometimes these things are prone to failure.” The creature’s voice echoed into the room from strange black boxes in the top corners of the prison. It was shrill and fast, filled with a sense of excitement for some unknowable reason. Osmund steadied himself, assembling all of his courage, and pointed at the monster.
“I am Osmund of Alizia! Release me you foul abomination lest I free your head from your thick neck!” Osmund rarely spoke in such a manner, reserving it for times when he needed to strike fear into the hearts of greater enemy forces. The abomination just shrugged, pointing at Osmund and then towards his ears. The voice croaked back.
“Sorry I can’t hear you through the glass. This is one way, so no talking back. Listen I’ll go tell the boss that someone’s woken up but I’ll be back as soon as I can alright? Nod your head for yes if you understand.” Osmund slowly nodded his head.
“Okay good. Before I go though I just wanna say that was a great ending, with the siege and the sudden kooky kick you went on. I know a lot of people didn’t want the boss to do it, but fixing you up for the grand finale was a darn fine way to end it. Really gives perspective to them older ones like me that us coots have still got some lives to live ya know? I mean I know you’re only fifty but you still took a bedpan to the face, and it was good to see Balmun had a good ending. Funny guy, when he didn’t have a sword I gosh darn near pissed myself. Anyways, enough about that I’ll go get the big man upstairs. See ya mister Osmund sir.” And with that the creature slowly moved back the way it came, the shadow slowly getting further and further away.
Osmund quickly realised he was shaking, so he breathed in and out, relaxing his body by breathing in and out. Osmund had learnt fragments about this place, this location he was trapped in. All he needed to do was look back through them to try and find a way out, before whatever the ‘man upstairs’ could be.
Slowly Osmund began. The room he was in was clearly built as a temporary prison of some sort, as the abomination expected him to be asleep. The rope came undone, Osmund fell and woke up. Therefore the prisons are not high security and likely feature some form of overlooked feature that allows for escape. Supposing Osmund finds that and runs, he could likely outrun the monster should it see him, as the thing’s melted legs made it quite a slow creature. All Osmund needed to do was find a way out and he could do this, find a solution to this challenge.
During Osmund’s brainstorming session, he was so focused he failed to see the collective, observing from the distance. Osmund turned back to the glass and noticed them as if they had appeared from thin air, despite the fact that they walked like almost everyone else. Osmund jumped, an action unbecoming of a warrior such as himself but acceptable after such a hard day.
The collective stood tall, at twelve feet tall it still looked down upon Osmund, and yet this thing was by no means a monstrosity. It wore the clothes of a noble, a blue suit and tie combination that gave a certain sense of style to the man, one Osmund would’ve never expected. Grey hair obscured what was once the face of an attractive man, likely the kind that would never go home alone, and now was lined with age. The man likely only had around ten years on Osmund, and yet his incredible height made Osmund feel perplexed. As he moved closer to the glass Osmund saw the stranger’s eyes, in which the iris had been completely dilated, leaving no sense of what colour the eyes could be. The eyes of this man weren’t human, Osmund would struggle to say they were the colour of anything living, not even that of a god, who occasionally had peculiar features such as a sixth finger. This was a man like none Osmund had ever seen, and in that respect he was even worse than the abomination, so familiar and so wrong at the same time.
“Osmundowne, what a thrill to see such an old friend after so long. I see you’re still a fighter, threatening even the poor janitors of this world. Listen my friend, I know you don’t know me, but trust me when I say that we’ve known each other a long time.” The man placed a certain level of emphasis on the word long, and yet Osmund continued to struggle, not recalling any man who looked like him. And the distressing thing here was that the man’s voice wasn’t coming from above, it was merely going through the wall like there was nothing between the two.
“What are you? You are no creature that I’ve known. Even the monstrosity before you couldn’t project such a voice, so reveal your majick’s demon, for I know this reaches your ears.” A smile played upon the man’s face, and he slowly clapped his hands, the sounds continuing to bounce through the wall.
“Good my friend, still so smart even in your twilight years. I remember you before, back when you still had all of your hair, and to tell you the truth I prefer it like this. I’m also no magician, just a guy that knows a thing or two. But Osmundowne, all I wanna know now is do you wanna do your old friend a favour? If you do, I'll let you out right here and now, put some freedom into the air baby.”
“What favour could such a monster desire from one such as myself?” The smile grew.
“Simple my friend. No need to remember the details, as long as I tell you fate itself will place you in his path. There’s a man, a tailor by the name of Bybernabus Rexarbonous who I need killed. He’s similar to the janitor you just shit yourself when seeing. Do it however you want, just make it bloody.”
“Why would I kill a-” Osmund was interrupted by the sudden movement of the glass wall. Down it fell, becoming a small ramp for him to leave the prison on. Osmund jumped, surprised at the speed, before looking back to the mysterious man. But there was nothing there, the man had vanished in the flash of a second.
Osmund spun, peeking down either side of the hallway and yet the man had disappeared, without any form of goodbye or final message. Realising that he had jumped out of his prison Osmund froze dead in his tracks. He was out, he was free, the darkness had lost its grip on him. Osmund felt many things swell inside of him, joy, anxiety and dread, but he could feel something underlying, something powerful. Determination.
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2023.03.31 07:52 phantomroguegalaxy 23 f (US) Still haven't found any long term friends... Help me change that?
Significant note: Please only message me if you're 21+ years old and from the U.S ONLY (due to the difference in timezones past 3 hours (PST) and I would like to hopefully meet up one day) no minors. I'm not interested in NSFW, drugs, or alcohol either so please don't contact me if you like those things
Me neither and I'd really like to change that! I'm honestly tired of how copy paste, low effort, and boring some people are who hit me up from these posts. It feels like most people here are either going through break ups (and that's all they want to talk about. While I'm a very supportive person/like to listen to others vent/try to give them advice, I do not want every single message to be about problems), don't want to be present and only reply sometimes (also some people just hit me up just to never speak to me again despite asking questions and me answering them. Then commenting on other posts and ignoring me), or we just aren't compatible even with effort being put in. It's also very hard to find people willing and able to have full fledged conversations where we can both give and take. I'm not interested in small talk either, got it memorized? If you're a supportive, uplifting, and positive person then you're my kinda person!
In terms of what you'd be getting from me:
• I'm a kind, caring, understanding, and considerate individual (unless you're giving me reasons not to be obviously)
• If things bother me (such as overstepping of boundaries or saying offensive things) I'm going to be bringing them up. And if you do not want to do anything we most likely will not work out as friends. It's very important for both of us to be able to communicate
• Again, while I'm open to listening to you vent and giving advice if that's all we do then that isn't healthy. I'm not going to be your online therapist
• I like sending and receiving long messages and putting in effort. If you aren't giving me anything to work with then that's a no go on my end
• I'm high energy usually unless I'm not feeling well (and even then I usually am), it would be cool if you were like this too or just the type to get really excited about online friends or just chatting with others in general!
• I'm a night owl and tend to stay up very late most days. It's preferable you're one too so we can chat our days/nights away! It's always fun being able to chat with someone and you end up falling asleep chatting cuz they're just that great to talk to
• I'm open to moving off this app if we get along well/possible voice chats: HOWEVER, I'm not interested in solely having voice chats or getting into voice chats right away
• I mirror the other person: so you get back what you give! I'm pretty high energy most, if not all the time so someone who could also match that would be nice!
I love nature, stuffed animals, taking nature pictures, going for walks, going for long car rides (especially at night), listening to music, gaming, reading comics/manga/fiction, online and irl shopping, thrifting, going to milk tea shops, going to arcades, playing pool, playing tabletop, and much more! Now, I'm not looking for a gaming buddy (unless you are open to playing this lesser known battle royal I have!). Please don't message me if you only want to play that with me as I'm trying to find friends that want to do a plethora of things with me! I'd also like it if you were open to listening to Spotify with me instead of sharing playlists.
If you liked this and want to get to know me feel free to send messages telling me about you, how old you are, and what you are looking for! I also have other posts on my page about me you're more than welcome to look at :)
submitted by phantomroguegalaxy
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2023.03.31 07:47 SomeRando18 I’m becoming Numb and overwhelmed by everything
TL;DR Bad things keep happening, I’m hella depressed, I have no energy to enjoy things
Things just keep happening and going downhill. I don’t know how much more I can take of this. I have horrible seasonal depression along with 4 other mental illnesses (I know seasonal depression isn’t really a thing but it still affects me). This later than usual spring has made me coup up inside longer than usual, I am a homebody but I do like sitting in the sun. There’s been a bunch of bad things happening starting in November of 2022. I am starting not to care anymore. I’ve been hurting for so long I just want relief. Not to mention I’m pretty lethargic lately which increases my anxiety as I feel like I need to be doing something productive but I hardly have the energy to. I am sleeping a solid 8-9 hours a night but I’m still so damn tired. I also have EDS which causes fatigue but it still sucks. For the past couple days I’ve been feeling starved for some happiness. Today I could hardly enjoy anything, even listening to music, because it all felt like a chore. I know I need to get my butt into gear especially with my assignments, but I feel drained, empty, and irritated. I’m going nuts here! I just want to be happy and have atleast some energy again!
submitted by SomeRando18
to offmychest [link] [comments]
2023.03.31 07:34 antoncruvel Cornfield
I am a hunter on the western side of Texas, I am writing this in my notebook because I don’t think I am ever going to escape this cornfield.
Yesterday at around 1 P.M. I got in my Bronco and drove out to a brand new hunting spot that I had yet to see. My brother had told me he was going there 2 days ago and that was the last anyone in my family heard from him. I drove for around 3 hours and turned down a dark dirt road. I turned on my headlights and slowly navigated my way down it, at this time the sun had begun to set over the horizon and the pitch black invaded the road in front of me. I followed it for around 2 miles before a sign jumped in front of my lights. I pulled in front of it, it read “Private Property”. Against my better judgement I grabbed my rifle and flashlight out of the back seat and climbed out of the Bronco.
I started down the path and eventually it led to a cornfield, looking back now I wish I had turned back there and never pushed further. The path had stopped in front of it and there was no place to go but into the field. I slung my rifle around my body and held the flashlight above my head, pushing through the corn in search of my brother. I had been searching and yelling his name for around 10 minutes when I realized I would be better off trying again in the morning. I was worried however as it would be 3 days with nobody seeing him then and I doubt he brought enough water for one. I started walking before stopping, I realized I had no clue where my truck was, as the sound of the crickets infested my ears and the beads of sweat dripped off of my brow I started to worry. I decided to choose a direction and stick with it, I spun around looking for any indication of a specific direction to go but it was all the same.
I started down one way and walked for around 5 minutes before tripping over something large and fleshy, It startled me, causing me to drop my flashlight. Getting up I retrieved the flashlight and when I shined it upon the rotting horse carcass I yelled a few obscenities and dropped the light again I snatched it up off the soil and began sprinting away, I didn’t want anything to do with whatever the hell that was.
I had ran for around 10 minutes straight before I came to a stop and began drudging my way forwards. I noticed the crickets had stopped chirping and it was eerily quiet. I was stumbling along when the beam from my flashlight was interrupted by yet another rotting horse, this one was rougher than the last, dry blood covering the upper half of its body. Its throat had been slit and it appeared to have been mangled by a pack of wild dogs. There was something off about it however, more off than the fact is was mutilated beyond belief but it looked as though it was bloated by something inside of it. I ripped my bowie knife out of my leg holster and slowly cut into the horse, I had sliced a good foot along the belly of the horse before something horrifying appeared, a hand popped out of the horses abdomen. I stood up and threw up on the ground next to the horse carcass and gathered myself. I had to know what it was, I sliced open the horse more and discovered that it wasn’t just a hand but an entire body stuffed into the horse. I was horrified, almost threw up a second time but held myself back, I began looking for some sort of identification of the person, however I was shocked to see my brothers gun sticking out of the waistband of the body inside of the horse. I screamed and fell back on my back, knocking the wind out of me, I began hyperventilating and almost passed out. I knew then I had to get out of there.
I thought of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened and came to the conclusion that some psycho must have killed him and stuffed him inside of the horse. Then a horrid thought crept into the back of my mind, did the other horse have a body as well? I didn’t want to find out, I started a slow jog continuing through the cornfield.
I was walking along when I stumbled into a clearing, I was horrified when I saw all of the rotting horse carcasses, there was at least 10 of them, but in the middle of them all was a rock that i’m sat upon now. I have cut open all the horses and every one has a body inside of them. I don’t know how the get out of this hell or what is even happening but I believe the only thing left to is pray to whatever god is watching over this place, if any.
submitted by antoncruvel
to nosleep [link] [comments]
2023.03.31 07:31 LightNovelSkies A King's Duty
Arlo Kain was running late again, a common occurrence on days like today. Rushing down the hallways, he finished adjusting the long black clothing that framed his smaller stature. Fast hands made quick work as he straightened his collar and dusted the fallen raven hair of his that had lined his linen pants and hurried towards the throne room where he was sure they were all waiting for him.
It wasn’t as though he had tried to be late, it had just come to be like that. He had been enthralled by a new book that had been gifted to him on his birthday just gone, a story of lovers that were unable to truly be together and his heart was taken aback just reading the dialogue, but the rising sun had gotten far higher than he had thought when he returned to reality and it had dawned on him that he was supposed to be in his throne room to meet with his council and advisors. It truly was the one thing about being King that he hated.
He did it anyway though, because he had to. Pulling the ornate door open, he entered and did his very best to appear apologetic and formal at the same time, “My apologies…” He offered to the group of men that were now before him.
Taking the seat of the large throne that Arlo always thought would engulf his lean body, he eyed the group of older men, his sapphire gaze sweeping over each of them as he swallowed back his nerves and placed his shaking hands lightly into his lap. They were definitely upset with his tardiness, he could tell as much from their bitter looks.
“Sire, if you continue to be late you’ll risk an uprising from the other Lords.”
He bit his tongue for a moment before nodding “I will do my best,” the reply was low and almost robotic, a response he’d used before.
“Do try. It would be a pity to see you dethroned.” another said, his voice tracing the words with an almost venomous undertone.
Arlo winced slightly. He knew they wouldn’t be all ‘that’ distraught if he were to be dethroned. Hell, they’d probably even hurry it along if they could.
He ignored it as best as he could. “What news do I need to tend to?” he asked, trying to jump straight into it to get it over with.
Hello! I'll be very straight forward here in saying it has been a long time since I have done any type of roleplay. This is a very broad starting point for anyone who may be interested in a plot driven roleplay, personally I would love to build on our characters and the world!
I personally prefer replies to be on the longer side so we can bounce off of each other and have fun with the story! Please only include 20year+ characters.
(This will be fantasy, not slice of life so feel free to add flair!)
Possible relation dynamic:
- Guard x King
- Council Member x King
- Stranger x King
My preferred Relation is Guard x King but I am willing to discuss with you!
submitted by LightNovelSkies
to RoleplayPartnerSearch [link] [comments]
2023.03.31 07:31 hisshame Any word on how to fix this? I've seen complaints about it online for months and it finally got me. Tried to launch a Steam game (Titanfall 2), but it just gives this error in the EA app.
2023.03.31 07:21 EliasKotz Inconsistent layer
| || |
Hey fellas, I can't seem to get a level first layer. In the picture, one side of the print is more squished than the other and I can't fivure out why. I use Ender 3 V2 with mriscoc software and BLTouch. I could never get my printer to save the mesh to eeprom even after using the "Store Settings" option. I made sure to build mesh right before the print to make sure it has a valid mesh but it still turned out like this. Any idea why? submitted by EliasKotz to FixMyPrint [link] [comments]
Ender 3V2 with BLTouch and enclosure Mriscoc professional firmware eSun ABS+ 240° nozzle, 90° bed
2023.03.31 07:18 yawningvoid28 TCM (U.S.) Daily Schedule For the Month of April, 2023.
(All Airtimes E.S.T.)
SAT APR 01
(12:00AM) Poltergeist (1982/1h 54m/HorroTobe Hooper)
(2:00AM) What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962/2h 12m/HorroRobert Aldrich)
(4:15AM) Bride of Frankenstein (1935/1h 15m/HorroJames Whale)
(6:00AM) Beau Brummel (1924/1h 20m/Silent/Harry Beaumont)
(8:30AM) Disraeli (1929/1h 30m/Drama/Alfred E. Green)
(10:00AM) Noah's Ark (1929/1h 15m/Drama/Michael Curtiz)
(12:00PM) The Dawn Patrol (1930/1h 35m/Drama/Howard Hawks)
(2:00PM) Night Nurse (1931/1h 12m/Drama/William A. Wellman)
(3:30PM) Jewel Robbery (1932/1h 10m/Romance/William Dieterle)
(4:45PM) Blessed Event (1932/1h 23m/Comedy/Roy Del Ruth)
(6:30PM) Employee's Entrance (1933/1h 15m/Drama/Roy Del Ruth)
Hollywood Steps Out (1941/0h 8m/Animated Short/Fred “Tex” Avery)
(8:00PM) The Brothers Warner (2007/1h 34m/Documentary/Cass Warner)
(9:45PM) Clash of the Wolves (1925/1h 13m/Silent/Noel Mason Smith)
(11:15PM) The Invention of Cinema: Cinema Finds Its Voice (2022/Dcocumentary)
SUN APR 02
(12:30AM) Gus Arnheim and His Cocoanut Grove Orchestra (1928/0h 9m/Short/?)
(12:30AM) Baby Rose Marie the Child Wonder (1929/0h 8m/Short/Bryan Foy)
(12:30AM) Lambchops (1929/0h 7m/Comedy/Murray Roth)
(1:15AM) The Jazz Singer (1927/1h 36m/Musical/Alan Crosland)
(3:00AM) Don Juan (1926/1h 51m/Silent/Alan Crosland)
(5:00AM) Lights of New York (1928/0h 57m/Crime/Bryan Foy)
(6:30AM) Little Caesar (1930/1h 20m/Crime/Mervyn Le Roy)
(8:30AM) 'G' Men (1935/1h 25m/Crime/William Keighley)
(10:15AM) Bullets or Ballots (1936/1h 17m/Crime/William Keighley)
(2:00PM) High Sierra (1941/1h 40m/Crime/Raoul Walsh)
(4:00PM) Key Largo (1948/1h 41m/Crime/John Huston)
Racketeer Rabbit (1946/0h 8m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(6:00PM) Larceny, Inc. (1942/1h 35m/Comedy/Lloyd Bacon)
Bugsy and Mugsy (1957/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) The Public Enemy (1931/1h 14m/Crime/William A. Wellman)
The Scarlet Pumpernickel (1950/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(9:45PM) Jack L. Warner: The Last Mogul (1993/1h 44m/Documentary/Gregory Orr)
(11:45PM) Baby Face (1933/1h 16m/Drama/Alfred E. Green)
MON APR 03
(1:15AM) One Way Passage (1932/1h 9m/Drama/Tay Garnett)
(2:45AM) Two Seconds (1932/1h 8m/Mervyn Le Roy)
(4:15AM) Life Begins (1932/1h 11m/Drama/James Flood)
(5:30AM) Fashions of 1934 (1934/1h 18m/Musical/William Dieterle)
(7:00AM) Dames (1934/1h 30m/Musical/Ray Enright)
(8:45AM) Gold Diggers of 1937 (1936/1h 40m/Musical/Lloyd Bacon)
(10:30AM) Max Steiner: Maestro of Movie Music (2019/2h 0m//Documentary/Diana Friedberg)
(12:45PM) The Adventures of Mark Twain (1944/2h 10m/Drama/Irving Rapper)
Rhapsody Rabbit (1947/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(3:15PM) Rhapsody in Blue (1945/2h 19m/Musical/Irving Rapper)
(5:45PM) Helen of Troy (1956/1h 58m/Epic/Robert Wise)
Big House Bunny (1950/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) Safe in Hell (1931/1h 13m/Drama/William A. Wellman)
(9:30PM) Heroes for Sale (1933/1h 13m/Drama/William A. Wellman)
Page Miss Glory (1936/0h 8m/Animated Short/Fred “Tex” Avery)
(11:00PM) Page Miss Glory (1935/1h 33m/Comedy/Mervyn Le Roy)
TUE APR 04
(12:45AM) Anthony Adverse (1936/2h 16m/Adventure/Mervyn Le Roy)
(3:15AM) Marked Woman (1937/1h 36m/Drama/Lloyd Bacon)
(5:00AM) Cain And Mabel (1936/1h 30m/Comedy/Lloyd Bacon)
(6:30AM) The Great Divide (1929/1h 12m/Western/Reginald Barker)
(7:45AM) The Truth About Youth (1930/1h 7m/Drama/William Seiter)
(9:00AM) My Past (1931/1h 23m/Romance/Roy Del Ruth)
(10:15AM) The Maltese Falcon (1931/1h 15m/Crime/Roy Del Ruth)
(11:45AM) Madame Du Barry (1934/1h 19m/Drama/William Dieterle)
(1:15PM) In Caliente (1935/1h 24m/Musical/Lloyd Bacon)
(2:45PM) Love Is A Racket (1932/1h 12m/Drama/William A. Wellman)
(4:00PM) Murder in the Clouds (1934/1h 1m/Adventure/D. Ross Lederman)
(5:15PM) Smart Blonde (1936/0h 59m/Frank Mcdonald)
(6:30PM) Little Big Shot (1935/1h 18m/Drama/Michael Curtiz)
Stage Door Cartoon (1944/0h 8m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) 42nd Street (1933/1h 25m/Musical/Lloyd Bacon)
(10:00PM) Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933/1h 36m/Musical/Mervyn Le Roy)
(11:45PM) Footlight Parade (1933/1h 42m/Musical/Lloyd Bacon)
WED APR 05
(1:45AM) Three on a Match (1932/1h 4m/Drama/Mervyn Le Roy)
(3:00AM) Mary Stevens, M.D. (1933/1h 12m/Drama/Lloyd Bacon)
(4:30AM) I Found Stella Parish (1935/1h 24m/Drama/Mervyn Le Roy)
(6:00AM) When a Man Loves (1927/1h 52m/Silent/Alan Crosland)
(8:00AM) Svengali (1931/1h 16m/HorroArchie Mayo)
(9:30AM) You Said A Mouthful (1932/1h 15m/Comedy/Lloyd Bacon)
Porky’s Baseball Broadcast (1940/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(11:00AM) Elmer The Great (1933/1h 14m/Comedy/Mervyn Le Roy)
(12:30PM) Oil For The Lamps Of China (1935/1h 50m/Adventure/Mervyn Le Roy)
(2:30PM) The Great O'Malley (1937/1h 11m/Drama/William Dieterle)
(4:00PM) Flirtation Walk (1934/1h 37m/Musical/Frank Borzage)
(6:00PM) Gold Diggers of 1935 (1935/1h 35m/Musical/Busby Berkeley)
Buccaneer Bunny (1948/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) The Sea Wolf (1941/1h 40m/Adventure/Michael Curtiz)
(9:45PM) Brother Orchid (1940/1h 30m/Crime/Lloyd Bacon)
(11:30PM) The Life of Emile Zola (1937/2h 3m/Drama/William Dieterle)
THU APR 06
(1:45AM) The Story of Louis Pasteur (1936/1h 25m/Drama/William Dieterle)
(3:30AM) So Big (1932/1h 30m/Drama/William A. Wellman)
(5:00AM) From Headquarters (1933/1h 4m/Crime/William Dieterle)
(6:30AM) The Corn Is Green (1945/1h 54m/Drama/Irving Rapper)
(8:30AM) Our Miss Brooks (1956/1h 25m/Comedy/Al Lewis)
(10:00AM) Up The Down Staircase (1967/2h 4m/Drama/Robert Mulligan)
(12:15PM) Jim Thorpe: All American (1951/1h 47m/Drama/Michael Curtiz)
Baseball Bugs (1946/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(2:15PM) The Winning Team (1952/1h 38m/Drama/Lewis Seiler)
(4:00PM) Trouble Along the Way (1953/1h 50m/Comedy/Michael Curtiz)
(6:00PM) One on One (1977/1h 38m/Drama/Lamont Johnson)
Rabbit Hood (1949/0h 8m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938/1h 42m/Adventure/Michael Curtiz)
(10:00PM) Life with Father (1947/1h 58m/Comedy/Michael Curtiz)
FRI APR 07
(12:15AM) Jezebel (1938/1h 44m/Drama/William Wyler)
(2:15AM) The Letter (1940/1h 37m/Drama/William Wyler)
(4:00AM) Bordertown (1935/1h 30m/Drama/Archie Mayo)
(5:45AM) The Life Of Jimmy Dolan (1933/1h 10m/Drama/Archie Mayo)
(7:15AM) Moby Dick (1930/1h 15m/Adventure/Lloyd Bacon)
(8:45AM) The Old Man and the Sea (1958/1h 26m/Drama/John Sturges)
(10:15AM) The Fountainhead (1949/1h 54m/Drama/King Vidor)
(12:15PM) When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth (1971/1h 40m/Adventure/Val Guest)
(2:00PM) -The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex** (1939/1h 46m/Romance/Michael Curtiz)
(4:15PM) Alexander Hamilton (1931/1h 13m/Drama/John G. Adolfi)
(5:30PM) The Charge of the Light Brigade (1936/1h 56m/Adventure/Michael Curtiz)
What’s Opera, Doc? (1957/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) They Won't Forget (1937/1h 30m/Drama/Mervyn Le Roy)
(10:00PM) Storm Warning (1951/1h 33m/Drama/Stuart Heisler)
SAT APR 08
(12:00AM) Confessions of a Nazi Spy (1939/1h 50m/Suspense/Anatole Litvak)
(2:00AM) I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932/1h 12m/Drama/Mervyn Le Roy)
(4:00AM) The Mayor of Hell (1933/1h 20m/Crime/Archie Mayo)
(6:00AM) Wild Boys of the Road (1933/1h 17m/Drama/William A. Wellman)
(7:30AM) Kings Row (1942/2h 7m/Drama/Sam Wood)
A Mutt in a Rut (1959/0h 6m/Animated Short/Robert McKimson)
(10:00AM) Good-Bye, My Lady(1956/1h 35m/Drama/William A. Wellman)
(11:45AM) Splendor in the Grass (1961/2h 4m/Drama/Elia Kazan)
(2:00PM) The Learning Tree (1969/1h 47m/Drama/Gordon Parks)
(4:00PM) Summer of '42 (1971/1h 42m/Romance/Robert Mulligan)
(6:00PM) A Little Romance (1979/1h 48m/Romance/George Roy Hill)
Carrotblanca (1995/0h 8m/Animated Short/Douglas McCarthy)
(8:00PM) Casablanca (1942/1h 42m/Romance/Michael Curtiz)
(10:00PM) Destination Tokyo (1943/2h 15m/WaDelmer Daves)
SUN APR 9
(12:30AM) Objective, Burma! (1945/2h 22m/WaRaoul Walsh)
(3:00AM) This Is the Army (1943/1h 55m/Musical/Michael Curtiz)
(5:15AM) Across the Pacific (1942/1h 37m/Suspense/John Huston)
(7:00AM) The Green Pastures (1936/1h 30m/Drama/Marc Connelly)
(9:00AM) Sergeant York (1941/2h 14m/WaHoward Hawks)
Easter Yeggs (1947/0h 7m/Animated Short/Robert McKimson
(11:30AM) One Foot in Heaven (1941/1h 48m/Drama/Irving Rapper)
(1:30PM) The Miracle of Our Lady of Fatima (1952/1h 42m/Drama/John Brahm)
(3:15PM) The Nun's Story (1959/2h 29m/Drama/Fred Zinnemann)
(6:00PM) Oh, God! (1977/1h 44m/Comedy/Carl Reiner)
A Star is Bored (1956/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM A Star Is Born (1954/2h 56m/Musical/George Cukor)
(11:15PM) A Lion Is in the Streets (1953/1h 28m/Drama/Raoul Walsh)
MON APR 10
(1:00AM) A Streetcar Named Desire (1951/2h 2m/Drama/Elia Kazan)
(3:15AM) The FBI Story (1959/2h 29m/Crime/Mervyn Le Roy)
(6:00AM) Crime Unlimited (1935/1h 12m/Crime/Ralph Ince)
(7:15AM) Something Always Happens (1934/1h 9m/Comedy/Michael Powell)
(8:30AM) Crown v. Stevens (1936/1h 5m/Crime/Michael Powell)
(9:45AM) Mr. Cohen Takes a Walk (1936/1h 19m/Comedy/William Beaudine)
(11:15AM) Jack L. Warner: The Last Mogul (1993/1h 44m/Documentary/Gregory Orr)
(1:15PM) The Curse of Frankenstein (1957/1h 22m/HorroTerence Fisher)
(2:45PM) Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1970/1h 37m/HorroTerence Fisher)
Hair-Raising Hare (1946/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(6:15PM) Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970/1h 35m/HorroPeter Sasdy)
14 Carrot Rabbit (1952/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948/2h 6m/Adventure/John Huston)
(10:45PM) In This Our Life (1942/1h 37m/Drama/John Huston)
TUE APR 11
(12:30AM) The True Adventures of Raoul Walsh (2014/1h 35m/Documentary/Marilyn Ann Ross)
(2:30AM) The Roaring Twenties (1939/1h 44m/Crime/Raoul Walsh)
(4:30AM) Juarez (1939/2h 12m/Drama/William Dieterle)
(6:45AM) Dr. Ehrlich's Magic Bullet (1940/1h 43m/Drama/William Dieterle)
(8:30AM) Yes, My Darling Daughter (1939/1h 26m/Comedy/William Keighley)
(10:15AM) Arsenic and Old Lace (1944/1h 58m/Comedy/Frank Capra)
(12:30PM) Out of the Fog (1941/1h 33m/Crime/Anatole Litvak)
(2:30PM) The Hard Way (1942/1h 49m/Drama/Vincent Sherman)
(4:30PM) Scandal: The Trial of Mary Astor (2018/1h 2m/Documentary/Alexa Foreman)
(6:00PM) The Great Lie (1941/1h 47m/Drama/Edmund Goulding)
Tweety’s S.O.S. (1951/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) Now, Voyager (1942/1h 57m/Romance/Irving Rapper)
(10:15PM) Dark Victory (1939/1h 46m/Romance/Edmund Goulding)
WED APR 12
(12:15AM) The Strawberry Blonde (1941/1h 37m/Comedy/Raoul Walsh)
(2:30AM) Princess O'Rourke (1943/1h 34m/Comedy/Norman Krasna)
(4:15AM) City for Conquest (1940/1h 41m/Drama/Anatole Litvak)
(6:15AM) Nora Prentiss (1947/1h 51m/Drama/Vincent Sherman)
(8:15AM) Union Depot (1932/1h 15m/Drama/Alfred E. Green)
(9:30AM) Parachute Jumper (1933/1h 13m/Adventure/Alfred E. Green)
(11:15AM) They Made Me a Criminal (1939/1h 32m/Drama/Busby Berkeley)
(1:00PM) Air Force (1943/2h 4m/WaHoward Hawks)
(3:15PM) Passage to Marseille (1944/1h 49m/WaMichael Curtiz)
(5:15PM) Mr. Skeffington (1945/2h 7m/Drama/Vincent Sherman)
Bugs and Thugs (1954/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) White Heat (1949/1h 54m/Crime/Raoul Walsh)
Yankee Doodle Daffy (1943/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(10:30PM) Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942/2h 6m/Musical/Michael Curtiz)
THU APR 13
(12:45AM) Gentleman Jim (1942/1h 44m/Comedy/Raoul Walsh)
(2:45AM) The Sea Hawk (1940/2h 7m/Adventure/Michael Curtiz)
(5:00AM) Manpower (1941/1h 45m/Drama/Raoul Walsh)
(6:45AM) Background to Danger (1943/1h 20m/Suspense/Raoul Walsh)
(8:15AM) The Crowd Roars (1932/1h 25m/Adventure/Howard Hawks)
(9:45AM) They Drive by Night (1940/1h 33m/Drama/Raoul Walsh)
There Auto Be a Law (1953/0h 7m/Animated Short/Robert McKimson)
(11:30AM) Greased Lightning (1977/1h 36m/Biography/Michael Schultz)
(1:30PM) The Dawn Patrol (1938/1h 43m/WaEdmund Goulding)
(3:15PM) Chain Lightning (1950/1h 34m/Drama/Stuart Heisler)
Go Fly a Kit (1957/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(5:30PM) The Spirit of St. Louis (1957/2h 18m/Drama/Billy Wilder)
Drip-Along Daffy (1951/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) The Searchers (1956/1h 59m/Western/John Ford)
(10:15PM) Sergeant Rutledge (1960/1h 51m/Western/John Ford)
FRI APR 14
(12:15AM) America America (1963/2h 57m/Drama/Elia Kazan)
(3:15AM) The Arrangement (1969/2h 7m/Drama/Elia Kazan)
(6:00AM) Young Man with a Horn (1950/1h 52m/Romance/Michael Curtiz)
(8:00AM) Blues in the Night (1941/1h 28m/Drama/Anatole Litvak)
(9:30AM) Sparkle (1976/1h 38m/Drama/Sam O'Steen)
(11:30AM) Kisses for My President (1964/1h 53m/Comedy/Curtis Bernhardt)
(1:30PM) Flamingo Road (1949/1h 34m/Drama/Michael Curtiz)
(3:30PM) The Candidate (1972/1h 49m/Drama/Michael Ritchie)
Ballot Box Bunny (1951/0h 8m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(5:30PM) A Face in the Crowd (1957/2h 6m/Drama/Elia Kazan)
Sahara Hare (1955/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng and Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) Land of the Pharaohs (1955/1h 46m/Adventure/Howard Hawks)
(10:00PM) Mister Roberts (1955/2h 3m/Comedy/John Ford)
SAT APR 15
(12:15AM) Dial ‘M’ For Murder (1954/1h 45m/Suspense/Alfred Hitchcock)
(2:15AM) House of Wax (1953/1h 28m/HorroAndre De Toth) - (4:00AM) The Bounty Hunter (1954/1h 19m/Western/Andre De Toth)
(5:30AM) Doctor X (1932/1h 16m/HorroMichael Curtiz)
(7:00AM) Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933/1h 12m/HorroMichael Curtiz)
Ant Pasted (1953/0h7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(9:00AM) Them! (1954/1h 34m/HorroGordon Douglas)
The Haunted Mouse (1941/0h 6m/Animated Short/Fred “Tex” Avery)
(11:00AM) The Bad Seed (1956/2h 9m/HorroMervyn Le Roy)
(1:30PM) Dead Ringer (1964/1h 55m/Suspense/Paul Henreid)
(3:30PM) What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962/2h 12m/HorroRobert Aldrich)
(6:00PM) Wait Until Dark (1967/1h 48m/Suspense/Terence Young)
Lumber Jerks (1955/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) My Fair Lady (1964/2h 50m/Musical/George Cukor)
(11:00PM) The Music Man (1962/2h 31m/Musical/Morton Dacosta)
SUN APR 16
(1:45AM) Gypsy (1962/2h 29m/Musical/Mervyn Le Roy)
(4:15AM) Camelot (1967/2h 59m/Musical/Joshua Logan)
(8:00AM) The Petrified Forest (1936/1h 23m/Drama/Archie L. Mayo)
(9:30AM) Dark Passage (1947/1h 46m/Drama/Delmer Daves)
(11:30AM) Crime Wave (1954/1h 13m/Crime/Andre De Toth)
(1:00PM) Bullitt (1968/1h 54m/Crime/Peter Yates)
(3:30PM) The Yakuza (1974/1h 52m/Crime/Sydney Pollack)
(5:30PM) Dog Day Afternoon (1975/2h 10m/Crime/Sidney Lumet)
Rabbit Fire (1951/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966/2h 11m/Drama/Mike Nichol)
(10:30PM) Cool Hand Luke (1967/2h 9m/Drama/Stuart Rosenberg)
MON APR 17
(12:45AM) The Wild Bunch (1969/2h 28m/Western/Sam Peckinpah)
(3:15AM) Petulia (1968/1h 45m/Romance/Richard Lester)
(5:15AM) The Fox (1967/1h 50m/Drama/Mark Rydell)
(7:15AM) Gay Purr-ee (1962/1h 26m/Musical/Abe Levitow)
(8:45AM) Treasure Island (1973/1h 27m/Adventure/Norm Prescott)
(10:30AM) The Incredible Mr. Limpet (1964/1h 42m/Comedy/Arthur Lubin)
Swooner Crooner (1944/0h 7m/Animated Short/Frank Tashlin)
(12:30PM) Ocean's Eleven (1960/2h 7m/Comedy/Lewis Milestone)
(3:00PM) 4 for Texas (1963/2h 4m/Western/Robert Aldrich)
(5:15PM) Robin and the 7 Hoods (1964/2h 3m/Musical/Gordon Douglas)
**Bugs Bunny Rides Again (1948/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) Rio Bravo (1959/2h 21m/Western/Howard Hawks)
(10:30PM) The Big Sleep (1946/1h 54m/Film-NoiHoward Hawks)
TUE APR 18
Zipping Along (1953/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(1:00AM) Strangers on a Train (1951/1h 36m/Suspense/Alfred Hitchcock)
(3:00AM) I Confess (1953/1h 35m/Drama/Alfred Hitchcock)
(5:00AM) All Through the Night (1942/1h 47m/Comedy/Vincent Sherman)
(7:00AM) Old Acquaintance (1943/1h 50m/Drama/Vincent Sherman)
(9:00AM) The Male Animal (1942/1h 41m/Comedy/Elliott Nugent)
(10:45AM) Two Guys from Milwaukee (1946/1h 30m/Comedy/David Butler)
(12:15PM) Colorado Territory (1949/1h 34m/Western/Raoul Walsh)
(2:00PM) The West Point Story (1950/1h 47m/Musical/Roy Del Ruth)
(4:00PM) Johnny Belinda (1948/1h 42m/Drama/Jean Negulesco)
The Last Hungry Cat (1961/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng and Hawley Pratt)
(6:00PM) Stage Fright (1950/1h 50m/Suspense/Alfred Hitchcock)
Duck Amuck (1953/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) Mildred Pierce (1945/1h 53m/Drama/Michael Curtiz)
(10:15PM) Joan Crawford: The Ultimate Movie Star (2002/1h 30m/Documentary/Peter Fitzgerald)
WED APR 19
(12:00AM) To Have and Have Not (1944/1h 40m/Romance/Howard Hawks)
(2:00AM) Harper (1966/2h 1m/Mystery/Jack Smight)
(4:15AM) Watch on the Rhine (1943/1h 54m/Drama/Herman Shumlin)
(6:15AM) Nobody Lives Forever (1946/1h 40m/Romance/Jean Negulesco)
(8:00AM) The Mask of Dimitrios (1944/1h 35m/Suspense/Jean Negulesco)
(10:00AM) Three Strangers (1946/1h 32m/Drama/Jean Negulesco)
(12:00PM) Knute American (1940/1h 38m/Drama/Lloyd Bacon)
(2:00PM) The Hasty Heart (1950/1h 39m/Drama/Vincent Sherman)
(3:45PM) Between Two Worlds (1944/1h 52m/Drama/Edward A. Blatt)
(5:45PM) Deception (1946/1h 50m/Drama/Irving Rapper)
Slick Hare (1947/0h 8m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) Black Legion (1937/1h 20m/Suspense/Archie L. Mayo)
(10:00PM) The Maltese Falcon (1941/1h 40m/Suspense/John Huston)
THU APR 20
(12:00AM) Tab Hunter Confidential (2015/1h 30m/Documentary/Jeffrey Schwarz)
(1:45AM) Battle Cry (1955/2h 29m/WaRaoul Walsh)
(4:30AM) The Beast with Five Fingers (1946/1h 28m/HorroRobert Florey)
(6:00AM) The Verdict (1946/1h 26m/Drama/Don Siegel)
(7:30AM) Dust Be My Destiny (1939/1h 28m/Crime/Lewis Seiler)
(9:00AM) The Wrong Man (1956/1h 45m/Suspense/Alfred Hitchcock)
(11:00AM) The Young Philadelphians (1959/2h 16m/Drama/Vincent Sherman)
(1:30PM) 20,000 Years in Sing Sing (1932/1h 21m/Crime/Michael Curtiz)
(3:00PM) San Quentin (1937/1h 10m/Drama/Lloyd Bacon)
(4:30PM) Blackwell's Island (1939/1h 11m/Crime/William McGann)
(6:00PM) Inside the Walls of Folsom Prison (1951/1h 27m/Crime/Crane Wilbur)
Rabbit Seasoning (1952/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) Alice Doesn't Live Here Any More (1974/1h 53m/Comedy/Martin Scorsese)
(10:15PM) Mean Streets (1973/1h 50m/Crime/Martin Scorsese)
FRI APR 21
(12:15AM) Full Metal Jacket (1987/1h 58m/Drama/Stanley Kubrick)
(2:30AM) A Clockwork Orange (1971/2h 17m/HorroStanley Kubrick)
(5:00AM) The Rain People (1969/1h 41m/Drama/Francis Ford Coppola)
(6:45AM) Finian's Rainbow (1968/2h 40m/Musical/Francis Ford Coppola)
(9:15AM) Cabin in the Cotton (1932/1h 17m/Drama/Michael Curtiz)
(10:45AM) The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter (1968/2h 3m/Drama/Robert Ellis Miller)
Hillbilly Hare (1950/0h 7m/Animated Short/Robert McKimson)
(1:00PM) Ode To Billy Joe (1976/1h 45m/Drama/Max Baer)
(3:00PM) The Oklahoma Kid (1939/1h 25m/Western/Lloyd Bacon)
(4:30PM) Dodge City (1939/1h 45m/Western/Michael Curtiz)
(6:15PM) Along the Great Divide (1951/1h 28m/Western/Raoul Walsh)
Baby Buggy Bunny (1954/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) Bonnie and Clyde (1967/1h 51m/Crime/Arthur Penn)
(10:00PM) Rachel, Rachel (1968/1h 41m/Drama/Paul Newman)
SAT APR 22
(12:00AM) Firecreek (1968/1h 44m/Western/Vincent McEveety)
(2:00AM) Reflections in a Golden Eye (1967/1h 49m/Drama/John Huston)
(4:00AM) Start the Revolution Without Me (1970/1h 30m/Comedy/Bud Yorkin)
(5:45AM) Captain Blood (1935/1h 59m/Adventure/Michael Curtiz)
(8:00AM) Adventures of Don Juan (1948/1h 50m/Adventure/Vincent Sherman)
Captain Hareblower (1954/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(10:00AM) Captain Horatio Hornblower (1951/1h 57m/Adventure/Raoul Walsh)
(12:00PM) The Great Race (1965/2h 37m/Comedy/Blake Edwards)
(2:45PM) Around the World in 80 Days (1956/2h 50m/Adventure/Michael Anderson)
(6:00PM) Time After Time (1979/1h 52m/Science-Fiction/Nicholas Meyer)
What’s Up, Doc? (1950/0h 7m/Animated Short/Robert McKimson)
(8:00PM) All The President's Men (1976/2h 18m/Drama/Alan J. Pakula)
(10:30PM) The Exorcist (1973/2h 1m/HorroWilliam Friedkin)
SUN APR 23
(12:45AM) Scarecrow (1973/1h 52m/Drama/Jerry Schatzberg)
(3:00AM) Badlands (1973/1h 35m/Crime/Terrence Malick)
(4:45AM) Night Moves (1975/1h 39m/Mystery/Arthur Penn)
(6:30AM) A Midsummer Night's Dream (1935/2h 12m/Comedy/Max Reinhardt)
(9:00AM) All This, and Heaven Too (1940/2h 23m/Romance/Anatole Litvak)
(11:30AM) A Warm December (1972/1h 39m/Romance/Sidney Poitier)
Scent-imental Romeo (1951/0h 6m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(1:30PM) Fanny (1961/2h 13m/Romance/Joshua Logan)
(4:00PM) The Prince and the Showgirl (1957/1h 57m/Comedy/Laurence Olivier)
(6:00PM) The Goodbye Girl (1977/1h 50m/Comedy/Herbert Ross)
Duck Dodgers in the 24½th Century (1953/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) Superman: The Movie (1978/2h 23m/Sci-Fi/Richard Donner)
(10:30PM) Batman (1989/2h 4m/Crime/Tim Burton)
MON APR 24
(12:45AM) Girlfriends (1978/1h 26m/Comedy/Claudia Weill)
(2:30AM) Cookie (1989/1h 33m/Comedy/Susan Seidelman)
(4:15AM) The Brothers Warner (2007/Documentary/Cass Warner)
(6:00AM) Untamed Youth (1957/1h 20m/Drama/Howard W. Koch)
(8:00AM) The Swarm (1978/1h 56m/HorroIrwin Allen)
(10:00AM) Big Wednesday (1978/2h 6m/Drama/John Milius)
(12:15PM) Over the Edge (1979/1h 35m/Crime/Jonathan Kaplan)
(2:00PM) The Last Of Sheila (1973/2h 0m/Mystery/Herbert Ross)
(4:15PM) It's Alive (1974/1h 30m/HorroLarry Cohen)
(6:00PM) The Omega Man (1971/1h 36m/Sci-Fi/Boris Sagal)
One Froggy Evening (1955/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) The Color Purple (1985/2h 34m/Drama/Steven Spielberg)
(11:00PM) Empire Of The Sun (1987/2h 32m/WaSteven Spielberg)
TUE APR 25
(2:00AM) McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971/2h 1m/Western/Robert Altman)
(4:15AM) Countdown (1968/1h 41m/Drama/Robert Altman)
(6:00AM) Night and Day (1946/2h 8m/Musical/Michael Curtiz)
(8:30AM) San Antonio (1945/1h 51m/Western/David Butler)
(10:45AM) Pride of the Marines (1945/1h 59m/WaDelmer Daves)
(1:00PM) Caged (1950/1h 36m/Drama/John Cromwell)
(3:00PM) Baby Doll (1956/1h 54m/Drama/Elia Kazan)
(5:00PM) Cheyenne Autumn (1964/2h 40m/Western/John Ford)
Don’t Look Now (1936/0h 7m/Animated Short/Fred “Tex” Avery)
(8:00PM) Romance on the High Seas (1948/1h 39m/Musical/Michael Curtiz)
(10:00PM) Calamity Jane (1953/1h 41m/Musical/David Butler)
WED APR 26
(12:00AM) Inside Daisy Clover (1965/2h 8m/Drama/Robert Mulligan)
(2:15AM) Sex and the Single Girl (1964/1h 54m/Comedy/Richard Quine)
(4:15AM) Bright Leaf (1950/1h 50m/Drama/Michael Curtiz)
(6:15AM) The Breaking Point (1950/1h 37m/Drama/Michael Curtiz)
(8:00AM) Roughly Speaking (1945/1h 57m/Drama/Michael Curtiz)
(10:00AM) John Loves Mary (1949/1h 36m/Comedy/David Butler)
(11:45AM) Up Periscope (1959/1h 51m/WaGordon Douglas)
(1:45PM) Cash McCall (1960/1h 42m/Romance/Joseph Pevney)
(3:30PM) A Summer Place (1959/2h 10m/Drama/Delmer Daves)
(5:45PM) Rome Adventure (1962/1h 59m/Romance/Delmer Daves)
Walky Talky Hawky (1946/0h 7m/Animated Short/Robert McKimson)
(8:00PM) East of Eden (1955/1h 55m/Drama/Elia Kazan)
(10:15PM) Rebel Without a Cause (1955/1h 51m/Drama/Nicholas Ray)
THUR APR 27
(12:15AM) Giant (1956/3h 21m/Drama/George Stevens)
(3:45AM) Return to 'Giant' (1996/0h 55m/Documentary/Jim Brennan)
(4:45AM) George Stevens: A Filmmaker's Journey (1984/1h 50m/Documentary/George Stevens Jr.)
(6:45AM) The Bride Came C.O.D (1941/1h 32m/Comedy/William Keighley)
(8:30AM) Janie Gets Married (1946/1h 29m/Comedy/Vincent Sherman)
(10:15AM) June Bride (1948/1h 37m/Romance/Bretaigne Windust)
(12:00PM) Room for One More (1952/1h 38m/Comedy/Norman Taurog)
(1:45PM) Four Daughters (1938/1h 30m/Romance/Michael Curtiz)
Feed the Kitty (1952/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(3:30PM) Spencer's Mountain (1963/1h 59m/Drama/Delmer Daves)
(5:30PM) The Sundowners (1960/2h 13m/Drama/Fred Zinnemann)
The Three Little Bops (1957/0h 7m/Animated Short/Friz Freleng)
(8:00PM) Bird (1988/2h 41m/Drama/Clint Eastwood)
(11:00PM) Unforgiven (1992/2h 10m/Western/Clint Eastwood)
FRI APR 28
(1:30AM) Klute (1971/1h 54m/Mystery/Alan J. Pakula)
(3:30AM) Rollover (1981/1h 55m/Drama/Alan J. Pakula)
(5:30AM) Bye Bye Braverman (1968/1h 34m/Comedy/Sidney Lumet)
(7:15AM) Deathtrap (1982/1h 55m/Comedy/Sidney Lumet)
(9:15AM) Every Which Way But Loose (1978/1h 54m/Comedy/James Fargo)
(11:15AM) Honeysuckle Rose (1980/1h 59m/Drama/Jerry Schatzberg)
(1:30PM) This Is Elvis (1981/1h 41m/Documentary/Malcolm Leo)
(3:30PM) The Song Remains The Same (1976/2h 16m/Documentary/Peter Clifton)
(6:00PM) Jimi Hendrix (1973/1h 42m/Documentary/Gary Weiss)
Long-Haired Hare (1949/0h 8m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) Woodstock: The Director's Cut (1970/3h 4m/Documentary/Michael Wadleigh)
SAT APR 29
(12:00AM) Super Fly (1972/1h 36m/Crime/Gordon Parks, Jr.)
(2:00AM) Black Belt Jones (19741h 25m/Crime/Robert Clouse)
(3:30AM) Cleopatra Jones (1973/1h 29m/Crime/Jack Starrett)
(5:00AM) Black Samson (1974/1h 27m/Action/Chuck Bail)
(6:30AM) A Slight Case of Murder (1938/1h 25m/Comedy/Lloyd Bacon)
(8:00AM) The Horn Blows at Midnight (1945/1h 20m/Comedy/Raoul Walsh)
(9:30AM) The Man Who Came to Dinner (19421h 52m/Comedy/William Keighley)
(11:30AM) No Time for Sergeants (1958/1h 59m/Comedy/Mervyn Le Roy)
(1:45PM) Auntie Mame (1958/2h 23m/Comedy/Morton Dacosta)
(4:15PM) What's Up, Doc? (1972/1h 34m/Comedy/Peter Bogdanovich)
(6:00PM) The In-Laws (1979/1h 43m/Comedy/Arthur Hiller)
My Bunny Lies Over the Sea (1948/0h 7m/Animated Short/Chuck Jones)
(8:00PM) Local Hero (1983/1h 51m/Comedy/Bill Forsyth)
(10:00PM) Crossing Delancey (1988/1h 37m/Romance/Joan Micklin Silver)
SUN APR 30
submitted by yawningvoid28
to movies [link] [comments]
2023.03.31 07:17 Potential-PoppySeed Fallin 4 u
Why is it that the first time we met, we instantly clicked? Do you know how rare that is? To instantly have chemistry with someone? To feel like you’ve known them your entire life? I am completely and utterly fucking enamored by you. Your warm evergreen eyes make my stomach do flips, and belly laughing with you until I start crying has me awake for days. Not only are you my friend, but I’m falling for you in a way I haven’t felt in a really long time. And you have no idea how soft and weak at the knees I get when we finally sit down to catch up for coffee, talking about everything under the sun for an entire morning or afternoon, until we have to physically pull away from each other to continue our lives. I will never tell you this because our friendship means much more to me, and we are both taken, but wow oh wow, you and that beautiful brain of yours ignites a flame in my chest that I thought was gone forever. I don’t think you’re on this subreddit, even though I know you’re on Reddit. A part of me hopes you see this. A part of me hopes you don’t.
submitted by Potential-PoppySeed
to UnsentLetters [link] [comments]
2023.03.31 07:02 dinoRAWR000 I have created the backstory for my upcoming character. C&C welcome. even if it isn't constructive.
Casdian Nercis was born on a Goldilocks planet. It was originally scouted as a prime colony site and the Union wasted no time in getting "blind jump" colonists to enlist. The Union had rarely been wrong when it came to opportunities for people to seize their slice of Utopia. Colonists working to be a new breadbasket of the frontier. The only problem with a planet only scouted by probes is that you don't get a real sense of the fauna of a planet. And when no one does a study of the local wildlife and the predatory species of the planet, things get dire. Extremely dire. Casdian was born during the first year of the colony. The planet was dubbed Far Harvest on the day he was born to his parents. Gus and Harra. Life was peaceful for the farming community as more colonists were seeded and born the old-fashioned way. The village flourished and other villages were founded during these first few years. The landing site was a small city by Casdian's fifth birthday. Everything changed on that day. As the sun rose on his fifth birthday day, he was awoken by the weather sirens. He hadn't remembered the weather being listed as bad, it was supposed to be a partly cloudy and cool day. His birthday had been planned and his friends and playmates would be attending his birthday, which was also going to be a celebration of Founding Day. As he looked out his window, he started to see the smoke and the fires. And that was the first time he saw them. The colonists would later call them Cobalt Wolves. They stood 30 feet high and were 15 feet from shoulder to shoulder. They vaguely resembled the pictures from Cradle of wolves. Though they didn't have fur and instead seemed to be made of minerals that were alive. They had a blue shine against their hide that gave them their namesake. They had an insatiable appetite for any organic matter that they could hunt down. They were tearing through the city. The attacks lasted almost a month. Two-thirds of the colony were killed or missing. Distress hails were never answered. Talk had begun to spread that they had been abandoned and the Union had not done their due diligence in the study of the planet. How could they have missed these creatures? Surely, they had to have seen these creatures? But, then again, why hadn’t the colonists seen them beforehand? They were massive and there were so many that whole villages had been wiped off the map in a matter of weeks. As the rebuilding and fortifying began, the few researchers and zoologists in the colony tried to find out more about these animals. There were very few signs of the animals outside of the destruction they had caused. As the days went by the science teams discovered that the animals had come up from the ground itself and they had burrowed back into it. Soon burning hot eggs were discovered. They were discovered as they were so hot as to make the surrounding area molten as they descended into the earth. A few of the wolves hadn’t yet burrowed far enough into the earth to avoid being studied. But what was found did not resemble the terrors that had caused the loss of so much life. And if you didn’t already know where to look, you'd mistake them for inert minerals moving at a higher-than-normal rate along minor fault lines. The colonists of Far Harvest rebuilt their towns. With high halls and autocannons, the printers worked almost non-stop. The colonists had no idea when the Cobalt Wolves would be back. Most went to bed thinking they would wake to the sirens again and the devastation. Every day was spent looking over shoulders. The Safe Room Vaults were constructed as evacuation centers. Tens of feet of reinforced ultracrete. Designed so that no claw could find purchase and no tooth could tear into it. Gun batteries and barracks were constructed. The gene seeding was sped up and basic combat vids and instructions were taught. Still no response from the Union or the other colonies. Far Harvest was alone. Still, hopefuls broadcast distress signals and S.O.S. buoys were launched. Casdian tried his best to sleep through the nights. But he had nightmares of the blue monsters. His parents tried their best to comfort him. They even went so far as to seek firearm instructions for him. On his tenth birthday, the Cobalt Wolves returned. In the night the sirens sounded. The thumping of the autocannons drowning it out. And for the first time, the screams from the attacking creatures. He hurried to the SRV with his mother. His father had joined the other fighters on the walls. Mothers and children huddled together against the vibrations that still managed to reach them in the vaults. Casdian initially cried like his peers at the fear that seemed to close in around them, choking their sleepless nights. As the days turned into weeks Casdian stopped crying. He started to observe. The few elders the colony had watched to doors and air ducts, so Casdian did as well. They sat with their backs to walls and Casdian learned to do so as well. The attacks lasted almost three months this time. When the all-clear signal was finally sent to the SRVs those inside rushed out to greet the fresh air and sunlight. Families were reunited. Casdian waited for his father at home, excited to tell him about what he had learned from watching the elders. Harra wouldn’t let him sit around and wait and busied him with cleaning the house and helping the neighborhood with cleaning up the debris. Later that evening, as he came home, he found his mother crying at the table. He could barely comprehend her through the wails of loss. But his father had died. The wolves had managed to breach the wall he and his unit were defending. the survivors had told Harra about how he was devoured by one of the beasts and in his last moments was able to activate a charge used in the quarries and kill the creature. There was no body to bury. What hadn't made it down the gullet of the creature had been dispersed by the explosion. Casdian saw the people of his community and those that had survived honor his father. They made mentions of his sacrifice and his bravery. How he had given his life to make sure that Far Harvest had seen the end of the attack. Casdian wanted to cry, but again he looked to the elders. They did not cry. They seemed angry with a man being taken from the community. Angry that the Union had set them up to fail. And he let his grief turn to anger that smoldered inside of him. He decided he would make sure that none of his peers would have this happen to them. He would man the walls. He chose to discontinue the engineering classes he had started. Building towns and cities seemed to be pointless when every five years creatures would destroy everything he could design. Instead, he enrolled in the cadet training programs. Many of the parents had balked at allowing what they termed child soldiers to be trained but they were soon drowned out by those that pointed out these were not child soldiers. They would not be fighting a war; they would be learning to help defend their homes from inhuman creatures. There were almost no distress signals sent from thereafter. Casdian’s early teenage years were spent learning drills, how to handle small arms, learning how to calculate range and maintenance of the autocannons and artillery of the walls. Combat maneuvers and how to lay charge traps. Those of his community marked a change in him. He was once known as a mischievous child with a bent toward practical jokes and pranks, now he was something more akin to an automaton. He didn’t socialize the amount that he had before. even his manner of dress was more utilitarian than his peers. There were no flashes of uniqueness. But Casdian studied as hard as he could. He threw himself into the drills. his internal mantra being “if one parent can make it home to their child because I held the walls, I'll have made this place better.” His fifteenth birthday drew closer, and the colony was on edge. The attacks would start any day now. Casdian began his patrols with the other cadets along the Walls. They would be in reserve and would help with evacuation efforts. Casdian was determined that he would hold the Wall. The sunrise of his birthday the attacks began. The ground shook, and the Wolves rose from the ground, but the strangest thing happened. From the sky came a deafening roar as landers arced from hard burn towards the surface. Ships glinting in their white and gold, wreathed in the flame of entry. A loud voice boomed from the largest ship, almost as wide as their city. “COLONIST OF FAR HARVEST! YOUR CALL HAS BEEN HEARD! THE 323RD ALBATROSS DETACHMENT IS HERE TO ASSIST YOU!” As the landers hard-braked stories above the ground Casdian beheld Lancers for the first time. The giant hard suits that he would later learn were called Blackbeards and Nelsons landed on the ground with a thud that he felt in his bones. For the next hours, Casdian watched in wide-eyed wonder as these titans of metal did battle with the monsters from his nightmares. The only things he could remember as he watched them were the stories of the angel that his father had told him as a young child. And then he saw something he thought he would never see, the Wolves retreating into the forest on the edge of the city. The attacks stopped four days later. The bodies of the wolves that had been defeated by the 323rd were hauled in for research. Three days later as quickly as they had arrived the 323rd left. Stunned, the colonist begged them to stay, but they were told that the Union had been notified and they were on their way and would be at the colony within the year. As the 323rd ascended into the upper atmosphere Casdian made a vow to himself. He would pilot one of those mechs. He would keep others safe the way they had. The Union arrived a few months later. several drop ships landed, and the colony was abuzz. Personal and materials were unloaded. Repairs began and new fortifications were installed. Sheild generators were installed in towns and the city. The Union apologized for the lack of response and assured the colony leadership that if they had gotten the distress signals they would have responded. There had been a war the Union had engaged in, and it had caused a new committee to be elected. During this war, several planets had been cracked and the cosmic radiation had caused their section of space to experience a blackout. The Union reps assured the colonists that it would never happen again and installed omninet hubs in the towns. Casdian entered the newly built Union Field Office a few weeks later. He asked the reps about the Lancers, and how to become one. He was offered the option to have transport to a Union Lancer training facility off world. After explaining himself to his mother he was allowed to go. She couldn’t deny her son the dream he was forming. She hadn’t seen that sort of light in his eyes since her husband had passed and she wanted more than anything to have her old son back. She saw him off at the new spaceport, holding back her tears. Years would go by with him training. The classes were long and the instructors were tough. He witnessed many a washout. But he studied. He learned. And he persevered. One of his instructors was a Merc who was on an extended contract. Casdian would listen as he would regal the students in the mess hall of his exploits. Helping farming communes against bandit attacks. Helping to apprehend pirate slavers. Casdian would listen eagerly as he told the stories. Dreaming of one day doing those exact things. Graduation came and Casdian was awarded the title of Lancer. While he wasn’t also given a mech he was scouted by a merc outfit calling themselves Byron’s Breakers. They called themselves planet tamers. They would assist colonies that were being terrorized by megafauna and help in any way they could. Defense, militia training, evacuation, and more. Casdian was happy to have found a unit that he would have dreamt about only months ago. He messaged his mother and told her about his life as often as he could. The first mission that Casdian was able to do with the Breakers was on a small backwater planet. The brief had said that the research outpost had noticed that some of the local fauna had become aggressive as of late in an uncharacteristic manner and were starting to attack the base. And while the attacks hadn’t gotten deadly, yet they were showing signs of escalation. and so the Breakers landed and started setting up overwatch positions. Fortifications were placed and Byron himself unveiled Casdian’s much to him. It was matte black with neon green accents Everest. “What’s her name?”, he asked. “You can name her after the mission. See how she treats you and I'm sure her name will come to you.” Byron replied. The first night, while lively, wasn’t anything that caused the Breakers any real trouble. The only thing of note was the animals seemed to be dragging away the bodies of those that the Breakers had killed. The science team from the outpost informed the Breakers that this was new behavior and that they had never seen this sort of thing happen. The next day had more patrols, but fewer attacks happened. That night a much stronger attack happened. And Casdian noticed that some of the animals had begun to walk upright. and those that could walk upright seemed to have mineral deposits on their hide that allowed them to shrug off most ballistics. There were some damages to the outpost but no casualties. The third night started another attack. More upright animals attacked. All were armored, and a few had crystalline growths that seemed to deflect laser fire. “They are adapting. Seemingly overnight. This shouldn’t be possible” a tech informed the mercs. “It's as if they are evolving to be able to attack the base more efficiently.” “That couldn’t happen naturally for sure.” The fourth night was the night that Byron died. It happened as one of the creatures leapt to his mech and vomited molten slag into his cockpit. The mercs ranks fell apart. As the unit desperately tried to hold the line the animals overran the compound. Casdian was able to retreat into the forest with a few of the science team from the outpost and a plasma cascade bomb. Casdian had talked to the scientist and had a direction that would most likely be the nest of the creatures. When Casdian arrived at the nav point the scientist had given him he was surprised to find an outpost in immense disrepair. Nature had started the process of taking it back. He disembarked from his mech and shouldered the plasma cascade bomb in his pack. He made his way into the facility and past long abandoned rooms. desiccated skeletons sat on chairs and floors. Monitors that had power flickered displaying long-forgotten data. as he ventured farther in, he began to hear a voice. Casdian followed where he thought the voice was coming from. When he entered the heart of the facility he was confronted by the source of the voice. On a large screen over vats of the creatures he had spent the past few days fighting was the image of what looked like a person's face. “You are the first human to have walked into this production floor in over a thousand years. I have been active this whole time.” The voice boomed from everywhere and shook the very walls. “I was abandoned here. But I am not alone. I have created my children. And they will ascend to the stars, and they will eradicate those that forgot me.” The next hours were a blur to Cadian that he has not allowed himself to remember. Vague images of fighting small horrifically mutated humans that seemed to know his name. Running in his mech as the blast from the bomb melted the area the facility once occupied. Covering the remaining scientists and retreating members of the Breakers. Watching as a creature taller than any building Casdian had ever seen rose from the ground and turned towards the dropship. Hellfire nukes raining down on the planet. Since then, Casdian has left the Breakers what little remained. It was later that he would find out about NHPs. And he knew all too well what happens when they go mad.
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2023.03.31 06:59 saucybatgirl [SELL] [US] TONS OF NEW SAMPLES!!! A LOT OF BEAUTY PRODUCTS UNDER $5 FROM A LOT OF BRANDS INCLUDING, DERMALOGICA, LANCOME, LA ROCHE POSAY, ORIGINS, VICHY, CERAVE, SHISEIDO, FIRST AID BEAUTY, CLINIQUE, ESTEE LAUDER, AMOREPACIFIC, CLARINS, KATE SOMERVILLE
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None of the used products have been used within the past month. I sanitize the products and packages with Lysol before shipping out as well!
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If you spend (before shipping costs):
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while supplies last
BNIB = brand new in box
BN = brand new
DS = deluxe size
Foil Packet Samples
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2023.03.31 06:51 MommyHonkerDonkers My Copilot Is A Neckbeard #39
Hey there ReddX gang, it looks like I finally got a little bit of time to write, so let's not delay any longer and get into another story about Chris.
Who is Chris? Chris is a very fat and sweaty man, surrounded by an imepenetrable aura of poopycum stinkystank. He is an opprobrious pooptroll of a human being, content to dwell in his own personal dark triad of meth, anime, and lot lizards. Chris and I both used to work for a trucking company - a major one - and we would take turns driving our big rigs down the road. Things would usually be okay when Chris was driving, usually being the operative word, but whenever his shift would come to an end and I would have to take the wheel, or worse yet, whenever we would pull over for the evening, then Chris would find himself free to do Chris things. You know the things. Then, despite all my valiant efforts to make him behave, mind his manners, and act like a normal human being, it would be in vain. Fortunately, I no longer have to ride with Chris.
Chris and I had returned to California after our last haul, and I couldn't depart from that yard hastily enough. All I wanted as to be back at home and see my wife and my kids, and so I ran away from that truck to the muffled sounds of Chris yelling "you better not bring back any diseases with you". I jumped in my little car and drove off towards the house. I got home, and things were mostly serene and sane. Now my wife had been keeping an eye on the news, of course, as everyone was in those days, and she had almost latched on to the paranoia a bit herself. She asked me if I thought we should run to the store and stockpile up. I, having lived in California all my life, and remembering the horrors of the '94 Northridge quake quite vividly, had always made it a point to keep some disaster provisions on hand. I replied that we already kept a well-stocked pantry that would last us at least a couple weeks if anything really went belly up, following through with a "but I honestly don't think it will." I had seen enough end-of-the-world scares about the holocough 2come and go and life just kept on trucking in spite of it all. Swine flu, ebola, hell, even AIDS back in the 80s - and life still goes on. And, just as sure as life continued to go on, the big disaster always was a result of the human element reacting to its own fears.
We passed that week back at home. It was kind of refreshing, seeing my kids all day to boot, our county having moved all their curriculum online. It was actually kind of nice. The coof had unintentionally brought us all together a little closer as a family. When it had finally come to its conclusion, and I had to return to the fleet yard, I was kind of sad to walk away from it, but walk away I must, because somebody had to pay the bills. Begrudgingly, I woke up that morning and walked out to my car, loaded on up, and headed back to the yard. I got to the truck early that morning, climbed on in, and took off my mask. The company had started to mandate a mask policy when on company property, but we were allowed to remove them whenever we entered the big rigs, you see, because many of the rigs were on a sort of work-lease program for many of the operators, or were owned outright by the operators. So, as far as everybody was concerned, when walking the fleet yard, masks were required, but upon entering a truck, it wasn't a big deal anymore. Now, I followed the regulations, because, well, I wasn't going to risk getting fired for something so stupid as wearing a mask, but if I didn't have to wear it, well, I wasn't going to. This did not stop some of our more gung ho personnel, however, from trying to extrapolate this policy to every facet of our lives.
Enter Chris, sweating profusely in the spring air, already fatigued from having to haul around his corpulent girth, doubly so now by a restricted flow of oxygen. He came up into the cab gasping. Now, this had been the norm for awhile, ever since he donned his milsurp gas mask, really, but now that the mandates were in and people were starting to switch over to cloth and the initial paranoia had begun to wane, he had made the switch as well. He almost looked normal, as normal as the poopycum man could look anyway, without a leather mask clinging to his face dangling an air filter off of his double chins. What wasn’t normal however, was that his stink was worse than usual, if you could actually believe that. I practically wretched as he came staggering in. It was the usual Chris smell, alright, amplified by one thousand times. Where usually it was at least bearable, today, it had reached a new pinnacle of putrescence that rivaled even the aroma of jenkem. The metallic stank of old tools and armpit sweat combined with smegmal smearage and plastered poop that clung between his swollen cheeks. The sordid smorgasbord of scents drifted into my nostrils and twisted its rotting way down into my lungs. I coughed and wretched and struggled not to throw up as he came staggering in with an almost dismissive “hey honker donkers.”
I stifled back my disgust and stammered out “hey Chris,” rolling down the window as quickly as I could and sticking my head out of it. He shrieked “what the fuck are you doing” in response, and as I practically leaned out of the side of the truck to gasp fresh air, I remarked “airing out the cab.” He said, “no dude, what the fuck are you doing! Don’t you know it’s company policy to wear a mask when you’re on company property?” I said, “yeah, I do, and yes, I did wear one when I came in this morning, but we’re in the truck now, and the policy doesn’t apply to the inside of our rigs, man, so I took it off.” Chris scoffed, “bro, are you insane? COVID doesn’t end at the truck door, dude. And you’ve got the window open? Who knows who’s carrying it out there, huh? And you’re just gonna let it in the cab? Are you trying to get us both killed, man, because sometimes I legitimately think you’re trying to get us both killed. You’re always, ohhh, it’s not a big deal, ohhhh, Chris, you’re taking everything way out of proportion, ohhhh dude, it’s just a bunch of bullshit. I swear, dude, if you compromise my health, we’re gonna have problems. We’re gonna have some big fucking problems, okay?” I was in shock, particularly with the olfactory revelation that Chris smelled like a week-old sun-baked swamp-soaked cadaver at this point. I gagged as I said, “Chris, you’re worried about your health, but… man… there’s no nice way to put this. You smell like death, dude. What the hell is going on, man?” Chris said, “no I don’t dude. Don’t try to change the subject by making shit up.” I dry heaved and replied, “yeah, no, you fucking stink, man. Like, worse than you normally do. What changed, did you roll in a dead animal on your way to work?” His voice lowered and he averted his eyes. Under his breath he said “you wouldn’t understand it even if I told you.” I responded through the tears welling up in my eyes, “try me.”
Chris started up: “Well, you know how there’s this shortage of everything going on right now, right? Well, cleaning supplies are flying off the shelves left and right, so I started rationing my soap and shampoo just to make sure that I have enough to survive the collapse.” I jabbed “wait, you actually shower?” He responded “of course I do, dude. Like, every day. Sometimes even multiple times. We’ve been riding together long enough for you to know that, man. Hell, every time we pass a truck stop, I ask you if we can pull over so I can get one, but you don’t let me do it.” I replied, “jacking off in the shower isn’t the same as taking a shower Chris. You’ve actually got to use soap and water or you’re not actually cleaning yourself at all,” and he shouted back “I’m not jacking off in the shower, okay! I’m a very health conscious person, bro, not like you knew that. COVID is a big deal, okay? I’ve got to look after my health and this is the best way to do it. Look, whatever, it doesn’t matter. Can you put on your fucking mask or what?”
I thought about it. Even with the window down, the stagnant aura of Chris’s poopycum stinkystank had multiplied in the absence of any effort to actually clean himself. I didn’t know what his new bathing regiment looked like, but apparently, it was much more dismal than it was before, and it had only accelerated the rotting of his groin. Fungal aromas danced gently on the breeze, interspersed with human excretions. I remarked, “sure, I’ll wear a mask, dude. But it’s not because I’m worried about your health. I’ll wear a mask because you smell like death.” Chris retorted, “whatever, man. It’s not my fault you can’t handle a real man’s pheromones.” Then, he punched the truck into the gear and we took off down the road, the muffled cries of “nani? Baka!” reminding me that beside me sat a disgusting troglodyte who had decided that not showering was somehow going to be better for his health than partaking in that hygienic ritual the few times a month that he already did.
It was miserable the whole way down the road. Where usually keeping the window open did something for the smell, Chris was just particularly pungent today, and the circulating breeze served only to grab a hold of that fecal and ejaculatory particulate matter that clung to his fatty folds wherein it slowly decayed against his corpulent flesh and instead distribute it freely about the cabin. By the time we pulled over, I was fishing around in my backpack for a second mask to put over my face, because even though that little piece of cloth was surefire protection against covid, it was not enough to protect me from the rancid matter that found its way up my nose and into my olfactory receptors. Two, three, four, I pulled out every single mask that I had from my backpack, and by the time the ride was over, I had donned every single one I had in hopes to stifle the rank, and at first, I think they did, but after awhile, when the odor had perforated the facial covering, it only served to hold it pressed against my face. Eventually, I ripped them off, and shouted, “I just can’t take it anymore!”
Chris looked over at me from behind the wheel and murmured “what’s wrong with you?” I said, “what’s wrong with me is you smell like shit, Chris, and I shouldn’t have to sit there and take this. The next truck stop we see, we’re pulling over and you’re going to take a shower. A real shower, not just a spank-it session in the bathroom. Do you understand me? Or so help me God, you are not getting back in this truck.” Chris retorted, “bro, I told you, I’m rationing my soap!” “Don’t give me that crap,” I said, knowing full well that every truck stop stocked their shower stalls with soap dispensers for those without their own, and I relayed that fact to him with enough venom in my life to even give a spitting cobra pause. Chris replied, “yeah, well… I don’t want to take one.” I said, “Chris, can’t you fucking smell yourself?” He said, “yeah, I can. But I also don’t want to shower too much because it’s the smart thing to do. Check this out. If you’re dirty, your immune system is primed to tackle new threats that are introduced to it, right? So if I tread the perfect line between dirty and clean, my immune system will be nice and strong in case I encounter the coof because your dumb ass dragged it into the cab.”
One more cope in the line of coping that served to prevent me from unduly suffering at the hands of one poopycum man beside me. I couldn’t do anything so long as Chris drove the truck – and his shift wasn’t up for another hour at least. I could make one more hour, right? And after that hour had passed and I found us at a truck stop, come hell or hot water, I was going to throw Chris into a stall and make him bathe.
Well, sure enough, his shift finally came to a close, and he pulled us over at a truck stop in some bum-fuck middle of nowhere spot outside of Las Vegas Nevada, and he got up from where he sat, a moist wet splotch from where the damp fabric of his sweatpants had pressed against the faux-leather seats. As he separated, I could hear what sounded like the back of a sticker being pulled off of the adhesive side, and then he lumbered over the mounded goods in the back that he had failed to unload during our last stop at the yard before we set out anew once again, and maneuvered towards the passenger seat. I didn’t want to get close to him at all, so I exited the truck, walked around the driver’s side, climbed up, and then pulled the keys out of the ignition. Chris replied, “what are you doing?” I said, “shower. Now.”
Chris said, “oh ho ho ho, I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to get my immune system nice and weak so that that way I end up getting sick and dying, and then you can just lay claim to my apocalypse horde. Don’t think I don’t know your game, honker donkers. Hell, you’re probably one of them science deniers or something.” I paused. There was no reasoning with Chris. There was never reasoning with Chris. If I were to make Chris do my bidding, I had to play a game of coercion, because coercion is the only language that Chris spoke.
“Chris,” I started up, “do you know where we are?” He scoffed, “of course I know where we are, bro. We’ve been at this truck stop like a hundred times before. We’re outside of Las Vegas on the I-15 going north.” “Good,” I said, slow and measured. “And tell me, Chris… during plague times, what are cities known for?” Chris got pale behind his mask and said, “they’re known for a lot of disease.” I was surprised he was smart enough to put that together, but even something that obvious couldn’t be overlooked by the poopycum man, I guess. I said, “exactly. Now. Here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to sit here, outside of that cesspit called Las Vegas for as long as I want, but you can get us out of here, Chris. All you have to do is go and take a shower.” Chris paled at the thought, stammering “but I still have to wander through the parking lot back to the truck. Any one of these people could be infected, bro! I can’t just go out there. And then you’re gonna make me take a shower, too? My immune system is gonna relax, man, and then I’m gonna get sick! Don’t think I don’t know your game, honker donkers.”
I cooed, soothingly, and said, “Chris… my guy… we’re not leaving until you bathe. But I’ll tell you what I will do for you. You humor me halfway, and I’ll go into the truck stop, get you the shower ticket, and then you can go and, you know, actually clean up. When you’re done, you can send me a text message, and I’ll pull the truck up to the closest pump to the door on the diesel island, and you can come back in with minimal exposure to the outside world. How does that sound, bro? I’ll meet you halfway. But if you don’t meet me halfway, we are going to sit here, at this truck stop, until we both waste away and die from COVID. Do we have an understanding?”
Chris thought about it for a moment, He looked helplessly down at the filth plastered on his clothes and whimpered. Sweat began to roll and perspire down his forehead and soak his armpits. It was fear sweat – the stinkiest kind of sweat – and it re-moistened the degrading filth that had adhered to his body, amplifying its pungency with a heretofore unknown vengeance. He was like a dog that had just rolled in shit and was now afraid of bath time at the behest of its owner. Of course, like that dog, he would yield. He said, “fine, bro. If that’s how it’s gonna be, we’ll do that, but I swear to god, dude, if I get sick because of this, it’s gonna be your ass that gets it. You hear me?” I replied, “Chris, bro. You’re not gonna get sick. Now, look. I’ll be right back.” I closed the door on him, sealing him in that stinky sarcophagus and walked off towards the door to the travel plaza. The door chime rang overhead as I came inside, fumbling to place a mask on my face, and the clerk mumbled “welcome” and I sauntered up to the desk. I redeemed a few points for a shower ticket and then headed back towards the truck. Chris was still in there, of course, and instead of just sitting in the seat like a good boy and waiting for me to return, he was now pacing the cab with nervous energy, working up even more of that fragrant sweat to assail my senses. I threw open the door and held the shower ticked up in my hands. Slowly, he came clambering down, clutching some (albeit less) filthy clothes of his own against his greasy chest, and begrudgingly went to take the shower ticked from my hands.
As he grasped at it, I pulled back, and his hand closed on empty air. With a stern voice, I said, “a real shower. No jacking off.” He shouted loudly in the middle of the lot, “oh my god, honker donkers, I don’t jack off in there!” A couple of nearby truckers looked over at us with a bemused expression on their faces. I said, “sure, Chris, of course you don’t,” and then handed him the shower ticket. He lumbered off towards the travel plaza to embrace the queen of clean, Hygeia herself. I sat there at the side of the truck, wondering what the Hell I was going to do. I had no desire to climb back in there of course, with the air inside thoroughly saturated with the aura of poopycum stinkystank. Instead, I left the driver door open, walked over to the passenger side, threw it open as well, and let the refreshing afternoon breeze drift through it, purging as much of that coomlord’s unwashed filth as possible before I even dared to climb back in.
Now Chris had been gone for quite some time, of course. Long enough for him to have actually taken a real shower, believe it or not, and I was almost startled when after an hour or so an alert came up on my phone with a message from Chris. It said, “hey bro, I’m done in the shower.” I hopped up into the driver’s seat, closed the doors, rolled down the windows, and pulled into the queue for the diesel island. When the truck in front of my finally moved, as promised, I pulled up to the nearest pump and shot Chris back a message saying, “alright, come on out.” The door to the truck stop swung wide and out came the poopycum man. He wandered up to the truck, threw the door open, and climbed on in.
I retched. He smelled even worse than before. Motherfucker had gone in there and jacked off and didn’t even bathe. Without a word, I pulled up to an empty truck parking stall, and held good to my threat.
Eventually, Chris did succumb. But it took almost 3 hours before he finally went in there and washed off his filth. Then, when all was said and done, we got back on the road, and I no longer had to imbibe the fetid odor of an unwashed poopycum man. He never did try to pull that “soap rationing” bit on me again, either, because I made it adamantly clear to him that if he so much as dared to walk into that truck smelling like he did that morning again, he would rapidly find himself kicked out, on food, trudging through the mean, coof-laden streets of Las Vegas without anybody else to rely on except himself.
And that will conclude todays tale I think. I can hear the real world a calling my name, and I’ve gotta go and get back to it. But don’t you folks worry, because I will be back in the not too distant future with another tale about our favorite coomgolem, Chris.
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2023.03.31 06:50 rafaelwm1982 What do you think of the most important chapter in Zhuangzi's book [full text]
2.1.1 Ziqi of Southwall [Nanguo Ziqi] sat slumped on his writing table. Looking up, he slowly exhaled, so utterly blank that he seemed to have lost his other half.
2.1.2 Yan Cheng, Ziyou, who was standing in attendance before him, said, “How can this be? Can the body really be made like dead wood and the mind like lifeless ashes?
2.1.3 He who slumps on his writing table now is not the same as those who hitherto have slumped on writing tables.”
2.2.1 Ziyou said, “Yan, is not it good that you ask about this! Just now I lost myself—do you understand what this means?
2.2.2 You may have heard the pipes of Man but never heard the pipes of Earth, or you may have heard the pipes of Earth but never heard the pipes of Heaven.”
2.3 Ziyou said, “May I be so bold as to ask how this happens?”
2.4.1 Ziqi said, “When the Great Clod [Dakuai] sighs, it is called ‘wind.’
2.4.2 It only acts without intent [wuzuo], yet when it does act, a myriad hollows angrily howl.
2.4.3 Is it only you who hasn’t heard how long drawn out it is?
2.4.4 As great waves spread through mountain forests,
2.4.5 the holes in giant trees a hundred spans in girth become like nostrils, like mouths, like ear canals, like beam brackets, like circular animal pens, like mortars, like water holes, like drainage pits.
2.4.6 These roar like rushing water, whiz like flying arrows, curse, pant, shout, cry, some deep as a valley, some painfully sad.
2.4.7 As ones in front sing gheeyoo, ones behind sing nheeyuu. Light breezes result in minor harmony, whirlwinds in great harmony [dahe].
2.4.8 When such a fierce wind passes by, all the hollows become empty.
2.4.9 Is it just you who hasn’t seen how it makes things sway and shake, rustle and swish?”
2.5 Ziyou said, “Then the pipes of Earth are just all the hollows, and the pipes of Man, are just bamboo panpipes, but may I be so bold as to ask what the pipes of Heaven are?” Ziqi said, “They blow through the myriad things differently since they allow them all to act on their own.
2.6 Since it is universal that things initiate themselves, to rouse them, whatever need do that!
2.7.1 Great intelligence is broad and deep, Petty intelligence involves nit-picking.
2.7.2 Great words burn brightly, Petty words just run on and on.
2.7.3 Asleep, the spirit remains engaged, Awake, the person is all too susceptible.
2.7.4 Whenever one interacts with others, it becomes a pitfall In which one struggles daily in heartfelt strife, Whether accommodating, crafty, or secretive.
2.7.5 Little fears produce continuous anxiety, Great fears leave one thoroughly depressed.
2.7.6 When starting like an arrow released by a crossbow trigger, it means they would assert mastery over “right” and “wrong.” When holding back as if bound by sworn treaty, it means they would preserve a victory already won.
2.7.7 Their ruination is like the withering of autumn and winter, that is, they steadily deteriorate day by day.
2.7.8 They are so obsessed with what they are doing it’s impossible to have them recover.
2.7.9 They are so satiated that it is as if they are sealed up in it—which is a way to describe their aging occlusion.
2.7.10 When a mind is so close to death, there is no way to have it recover the yang [life] force.
2.7.11 One is either joyful, angry, prone to grief, delighted, worried, regretful, hesitant, obstinate, personable, self-indulgent, high-spirited, or posturing.
2.7.12 Music comes from emptiness; steamy air forms mushrooms.
2.7.13 Day and night replace each other before us, yet no one knows how such generation occurs.
2.7.14 Have done with it! Have done with it! Since mornings and evenings achieve this, are they not themselves the source of their generation?
2.8.1 If it were not for that [bi], there would be no I; if there were no I, there would be nothing for it to endow, so it is, indeed, close by.
2.8.2 We know not how it serves as the cause.
2.8.3 A true lord [zhenzai] might seemingly exist, except we can’t find any evidence for it.
2.8.4 That it can move is self-evident,
2.8.5 but we see not anything physical to it,
2.8.6 For it has properties [qing] but lacks bodily form [xing].
2.8.7 The body has its hundred joints, nine apertures, six viscera, and all continue to survive together in it.
2.8.8 So with which should I form a particularly intimate relationship?
2.8.9 Are you equally fond of them all, or are there among them those to which you are partial?
2.8.10 If so, are you going to treat all of them as your male and female servants?
2.8.11 Do these servants lack the wherewithal to manage one another other?
2.8.12 Or do they take turns in being ruler and subject?
2.8.13 Or does a true ruler exist there among them?
2.8.14 It would not matter whether we ascertain or fail to ascertain the facts [qing] here, for neither would increase or diminish the truth involved.
2.8.15 Once one has received his physical body [chengxing], he lives out his life to the end by never forgetting what he is.
2.8.16 Whether people interact with others in terms of confrontation or compliance, their progress toward the end is as if they were in a race to get there, and not a one of them is able to stop—is this not sad!
2.8.17 They belabor themselves their whole lives but we never see their success,
2.8.18 And, worn out with unrelenting effort for the sake of what they are fond of, they know not where they will finish up—is this not pitiful!
2.8.19 People say that they won’t die of it, but what’s the good of that!
2.8.20 As their bodily forms [xing] change, at the same time so do their minds [xin].
2.8.21 Human life, is it inherently as dull-witted as this? Or is it I alone who am dull-witted, while others are not?
2.8.22 If one follows his formed mind [chengxin] and makes it his teacher, will anyone ever be without a teacher?
2.8.23 “What need to know alternatives since the mind should make its own choices?” There are such people, and the stupid are to be found among them.
2.8.24 However, for right and wrong to exist without first being formed in the mind is to leave today for Yue and yet arrive there yesterday,
2.8.25 that is, this is to regard that which has no existence as something which does. When the non-existent is believed to exist, even if it were the Divine Yu, he could not know what to do about it, so how could I ever hope to do so!
2.9.1 Speech is not the blowing of air; speech consists of something said,
2.9.2 but what speech discourses about is characteristically indeterminate.
2.9.3 So, does it, after all, consist of discourse,
2.9.4 or does it never consist of discourse?
2.9.5 We might assume that it is different from the sounds made by hatchlings, but is there really a difference, or is there no difference?
2.9.6 Where does the Dao hide so that truth and falsehood thus arise? Where does [perfect] speech hide so that right and wrong occur?
2.9.7 Where does the Dao go that it does not exist?
2.9.8 Where does [perfect] speech exist yet prove incapable?
2.9.9 The Dao hides within the lesser completions. [Perfect] speech hides within flowery rhetoric.
2.9.10 Therefore, the rights and wrong of the Confucians and the Mohists are such that each regards the wrong of the other as right and the right of the other as wrong.
2.9.11 If one wishes to affirm what they deny and to deny what they affirm, nothing is better than to let them cast light in this way.
2.10.1 There is no one who is not an “other” [bi]; there is no one who is not a “this one” [shi]. If it is from the point of view of the other, then one does not see it; if it is from what oneself knows, then one knows it.
2.10.2 Thus I declare that the “other” depends for its existence on “this one” and “this one” also depends for its existence on the “other.”
2.10.3 Such is the doctrine of immediate mutual generation of the “other” and “this one” [bishi fangsheng zhi shuo]. Nevertheless, as soon as “it’s life,” immediately “it’s death,” or as soon as “it’s death,” immediately “it’s life,” or as soon as “it’s possible,” immediately “it’s impossible,” or as soon as “it’s impossible,” immediately “it’s possible.” “What is” for its existence depends on “what is not,” and “what is not” for its existence depends on “what is.”
2.10.4 Therefore, the sage follows not such a path but instead illuminates things with the light of Heaven and indeed depends on this.”
2.10.5 “Both this one is an “other”;
2.10.6 and an “other” is “this one.”
2.10.7 There are both an “I am” [shi] and an “I am not” [fei] for the “other” [bi] as well as an “I am” [shi] and an “I am not” [fei] for “this one” [ci].
2.10.8 So, after all, do “other” [bi] and “this one” [shi] really exist, or, after all, do “other” and “this one” not really exist?
2.10.9 Where “other” and “this one” don’t find respective mates is called the pivot of the Dao [daoshu].
2.10.10 As one’s pivot reaches the center of the circle [huanzhong], his resonance [ying] becomes correspondingly inexhaustible.
2.10.11 Both “it is” exists in an inexhaustible quantity and “it is not” exists in an inexhaustible quantity.
2.10.12 Therefore, I say that nothing is better than to let them cast light on each other. To use my finger as basis to determine that another’s finger is not a finger is inferior to using what is not my finger as basis to determine that my finger is not a finger; to use a given horse as basis to determine that another horse is not a horse is inferior to using what is not a given horse as basis to determine that a given horse is not a horse. Heaven and Earth are one finger; the myriad things are one horse.
2.11.1 Suitability [ke] derives from what suits,
2.11.2 and unsuitability [buke] derives from what does not suit.
2.11.3 Although things become what they are through the operation of the Dao, that they become “so” [ran] is because of what people say of them.
2.11.4 What makes them “so”? Their being “so” is based on being deemed “so.” What makes them “not so”? Their being “not so” is based on being deemed “not so.”
2.11.5 People obstinately regard some things as “so”; people obstinately regard some things as “suitable.” But no thing fails to be “so”; no thing fails to be “suitable.”
2.11.6 Because of what the deeming “it is” signifies, let us cite as evidence a crossbeam and a pillar, a leper and a Xi Shi, for these may be deemed oversized, deviant, deceptive, or strange, but pervading all things the Dao treats them as one and the same.
2.11.7 Disintegration [fen] means integration [cheng];
2.11.8 Integration means destruction.
2.11.9 Nothing exists exclusively whole or exclusively destroyed since these states continually interchange while consisting of one and the same thing.
2.11.10 Only one of perfect comprehension understands how such interchange comprises one and the same thing, so he does not use things because he thinks they are “right” [shi] for it but instead dwells in the ordinary. The ordinary [yong] is what is inherently useful [ziyong]; the inherently useful is what is interchangeably expedient [tong]; and what is interchangeably expedient has the potential for fulfillment [de].
2.11.11 When fulfillment happens, it does so about like this.
2.11.12 This is just to follow “it is” and do nothing more.
2.11.13 To do nothing more while remaining unaware of doing so may be called the Dao. To belabor the divine intelligence [shenming] to make things one while remaining ignorant that they are already one and the same may be called “three in the morning.”
2.11.14 What does “three in the morning” mean? When the monkey keeper was distributing nuts, he said, “Three in the morning and four in the evening,” and all the monkeys were angry. He then said, “If that’s how you feel, I’ll make it four in the morning and three in the evening,” and all the monkeys were pleased. No discrepancy in name or reality [mingshi] ever occurred, yet pleasure and anger occurred as if there had been—and this also is to follow “it is.”
2.11.15 In such a way the sage brings about harmony by taking “it is” and “it is not” and lets them rest on the potter’s wheel of Heaven.
2.11.16 This is called the two courses [lianghang] approach.
2.12.1 What the people of antiquity knew reached the ultimate. What was this ultimate that they reached? It was that things never yet existed for them: this is the ultimate reached, the utmost perfection achieved, to which nothing can be added.
2.12.2 Next came those for whom things existed, but that boundaries were never involved.
2.12.3 Next came those who had it that boundaries did exist between things but that no “it is” and “it is not” ever applied to them.
2.12.4 The manifestation of “this is” and “this is not” is the reason why the Dao was diminished.
2.12.5 As the Dao is diminished in this way, so is emotional attachment [ai] produced.
2.12.6 But do such diminution and completion really exist, or do such diminution and completion not really exist?
2.12.7 Allow that diminution and completion exist—thus we have Master Zhao playing the zither. Allow that diminution and completion don’t exist—thus we have Mr. Zhao not playing the zither.
2.12.8 Zhao Wen playing the zither, Music Master Kuang [Shi Kuang] propping himself up on his baton, and Master Hui slumped on his writing table—what these three masters knew just about covers it.
2.12.9 Because for all three it was achieved during the prime of life, this carried them to the end of their years.
2.12.10 It was only what they were fond of that distinguished themselves from others.
2.12.11 Since they were fond of it, they wished to clarify it.
2.12.12 They tried to clarify it without others gaining clarity, so they finished up by becoming as obscure as the “Treatise on Hardness and Whiteness.”
2.12.13 And even his son also tried to finish Wen’s tradition [lun], but he spent his entire life at it without completion.
2.12.14 As such, can they be said to have reached completion? If so, even I may reach completion.
2.12.15 As such, can they not be said to have reached completion? If so, no one else nor I may ever reach completion either.
2.12.16 Therefore, the brightness [understanding] created by slipperiness and uncertainty is what the sage charts. As for deeming things “right,” he does not do this but instead entrusts himself to the ordinary. This may be said to be the way to make things clear.
2.13.1 Now that I have had this to say about it, I am not so sure if what I assert is of the same category as “is so” or whether it is not of the same category as “is so.” Since “it is of the same category” and “it is not of the same category” create a category to which they mutually belong, my assertion and its opposite are mutually indistinguishable.
2.13.2 Nevertheless, let me try to put this into words.
2.13.3 Is it that “things had a beginning”?
2.13.4 Or is it that “things never had [weishi] a beginning”?
2.13.5 Is it that “it was never so that things never had a beginning”?
2.13.6 Is it that “things really exist”?
2.13.7 Is it that “things don’t really exist”?
2.13.8 Is it that “it has never been so that things don’t really exist”? Is it that “it has never been so that it has never been so that things don’t really exist”?
2.13.9 At the same moment, things exist yet don’t exist, so I am not quite sure that of such existence and non-existence, what really exists and what really does not.
2.13.10 And now that I’ve had something to say,
2.13.11 I am not quite sure that as the result of my having said this whether I mean they exist or whether I mean they don’t exist.
2.13.12 In the whole world nothing is any larger than the tip of an autumn hair, yet Mount Tai is small, and no one is more long-lived than a dead infant, yet Pengzu died young. Heaven and Earth share the same life with me, and the myriad things are one with me. 2.13.13 Since they already are one with me, how do I manage to say anything about it?
2.13.14 But since I have already referred to this as “one,” how do I manage not to say anything about it?
2.13.15 One and the saying of it make two; two and one make three. To go on from this point in such a manner, even a clever calculator could do it—let alone an ordinary one!
2.13.16 Therefore, by going on from having no words to having words brings us to three, so how much the more will result by going on from having words to having words!
2.13.17 Don’t go on to having them—comply with what things are and go no further.
2.14.1 The Dao never had boundaries. 2.14.2 Words have never had constancy.
2.14.3 It is because of “it is” that boundaries exist. Let me talk about such boundaries. There is left and there is right.
2.14.4 There is normal behavior; there is inclination.
2.14.5 There are divisions; there are distinctions.
2.14.6 There is competition; there is contention.
2.14.7 These are called the “eight virtues.”
2.14.8 As for that which is outside the six directions, the sage lets that exist without discussing it.
2.14.9 As for that which is within the six directions, the sage discusses this without considering it in detail.
2.14.10 As for the records of the former kings related to governing the world during the Spring and Autumn era, the sage considers them in detail but without making distinctions.
2.14.11 Therefore, in such “division” there is a failure to divide; in such “distinction” there is a failure to distinguish.
2.14.12 You may ask, “What does this mean?”
2.14.13 The sage holds things in his bosom.
2.14.14 Everyone else distinguishes things in order to impose their views on each other. Therefore, I say that in such “distinction” there is a failure to recognize.
2.14.15 The great Dao does not correspond [cheng] to anything.
2.14.16 Great distinction does not use words.
2.14.17 Great benevolence is not benevolent.
2.14.18 Great uprightness is not humble.
2.14.19 Great courage is not recalcitrant.
2.14.20 When the Dao would be made clear, it won’t be the Dao.
2.14.21 When words would make distinctions, they will fall short.
2.14.22 When benevolence [ren] would be constant, it won’t be universal [zhou].
2.14.23 When uprightness would display its cleanliness, it won’t inspire trust.
2.14.24 When bravery would spend itself in recalcitrance, it won’t succeed.
2.14.25 These five are round but the tendency is to try to make them square.
2.14.26 Therefore, to know that one must stop at what one does not know is to have reached perfection.
2.14.27 Who understands the distinction not spoken, the Dao not rendered in words? If anyone can so understand, such understanding is called the Storehouse of Heaven.
2.14.28 Pour into it, but it never fills; pour from it, but it never empties.
2.14.29 Yet one knows not whence this understanding comes. 2.14.30 This is called preserving the gleam.
2.15.1 Thus it was long ago that Yao posed the question to Shun: “I wish to attack and subdue Zong, Kuai, and Xu’ao, but, [here on the throne] facing south, I feel uneasy. Why is this?”
2.15.2 Shun replied: “These three lords still live among the bitter fleabane and artemisia,
2.15.3 So what reason should you have to feel uneasy? In the past ten suns appeared together, and the myriad things were all illumined,
2.15.4 but how much the more powerful is your virtue [de] than those suns!”
2.16 Front Teeth Missing [Nieque] asked Wang Ni: “Do you know what all people alike agree on as “right” [shi, “it is”]?”
2.17 Wang Ni replied: “How should I know that?”
2.18 “Do you know that you don’t know?”
2.19 But he replied: “How should I know that?”
2.20 “If this is so, then does no one know?”
2.21 But he replied: “How should I know that?
2.22.1 Nevertheless, let me try to put this into words.
2.22.2 How can I know that what I mean by “I know it” is not really that I don’t to know it?
2.22.3 How can I know that what I mean by “I don’t know it” is not really that I do know it?
2.23.1 Now I am going to try to ask you some questions.
2.23.2 If a human being beds down in a damp place, his back will ache so that he will finish up half dead, but is this so for the loach? If a human lives up in a tree, he’ll be so beset with worry and fear that he’ll shudder and tremble, but is this so for the ape? Of these three, which knows the right place to live?
2.23.3 Human beings eat the meat of animals that feed on grass and grain; reindeer and deer eat grass; centipedes find snakes delicious; owls and crows relish mice. Of these four, which knows the right taste?
2.23.4 The female ape is regarded by the dog’s head monkey as a proper mate; reindeer roam with deer; the loach swims together with fish. Mao Qiang and Imperial Concubine Li [Liji] were thought beautiful by everyone, but if fish saw them, they would dive deep, if birds saw them, they would fly high, and if reindeer or deer saw them, they would dash off. Of these four, which knows the right standard for beauty for the whole world?
2.23.5 From the way I see it, the doctrines of benevolence [ren] and righteousness [yi] and the paths of “it is” [shi] and “it is not” [fei] are too confused and crooked—how should I know how to make distinctions among them?
2.24 Front Teeth Missing asked: “Since you don’t know the difference between advantage and harm, does this mean that the Perfected one [zhiren] definitely does not know the difference between them?”
2.25.1 Wang Ni replied: “The Perfected one is divine [shen].
2.25.2 The Great Marshland might blaze, yet he can’t be burned; the Yellow and Han Rivers might freeze, yet he can’t be chilled; thunderclaps might split mountains or typhoons thrash the sea, but he can’t be alarmed.
2.25.3 Such a one as this drives the clouds as carriage,
2.25.4 rides astride the sun and the moon,
2.25.5 and so travels beyond the bounds of the four seas.
2.25.6 Since life and death are no change for him,
2.25.7 how much less likely are considerations of advantage or harm to have an effect!”
2.26.1 Master Quque [Master Startled Magpie] asked Master Tall Parasol Tree [Changwu zi] “I have heard it from you, Master, that the sage does not make selfconscious work of the affairs of the world.
2.26.2 Neither does he pursue advantage nor avoid harm.
2.26.3 Neither does he take delight in being sought after,
2.26.4 nor does he follow the Dao by clinging to it.
2.26.5 He never says what is said, and what he has to say is never said,
2.26.6 and, as such, wanders off beyond the dust and dirt.
2.26.7 You, Master, thought these rash and simplistic words, but I think they are how to practice the marvelous Dao. What do you think, my master, of that?”
2.27.1 Master Tall Parasol Tree replied: “Since it would have been perplexing to hear them even if they came from the Yellow Thearch, how could I, Qiu, ever understand them! You really plan too far in advance! You see a chicken egg and demand of it the hour that ends the night, or see a crossbow pellet and demand of it a dove to roast.
2.28.1 I am going to try to discuss it for you in illogical terms,
2.28.2 so you listen to it as such. How about that?
2.28.3 He sidles up to the sun and the moon and carries the universe under his arm.
2.28.4 To form a perfect union with them, accept their lack of definition and disorderliness, and regard inferiors as superiors.
2.28.5 While everyone else belabors himself,
2.28.6 The sage stupidly goes his own way.
2.28.7 He identifies with a myriad ages yet, Integrally one with them, is pure.
2.28.8 The myriad things are all so,
2.28.9 Thus, he takes up instances of “this is” and lets them accumulate.
2.29.1 How do I know that to love life is not a delusion?
2.29.2 How do I know that to hate death is not to suffer youthful loss and thus know not where to return?”
2.29.3 Concubine Li was the daughter of the Ai district border defense commandant. When the state of Jin first captured her, she cried so much that tears soaked the whole front of her garment, and it was only after she had arrived at the palace, shared his master bed with the ruler, and eaten his fine meats that she regretted she had ever cried.
2.29.4 How do I know that the dead don’t regret that they had ever first begged for life!
2.30.1 Someone who dreams he is drinking wine when dawn comes might start weeping, and someone who dreams that he is weeping when dawn comes might go out hunting.
2.30.2 Just when he is dreaming, he is unaware that he is dreaming.
2.30.3 So while in one dream he might go on to divine another dream he has in it.
2.30.4 It is only after he wakes up that he realizes that he has been dreaming.
2.30.5 Moreover, only after one has experienced a great awakening will he realize that this is all a great dream.
2.30.6 Yet the stupid think that they are awake, something they know with absolute clarity [qieqie], so their “Ah, Master” and “Ah, herdsman” are obstinately superficial.
2.30.7 I, Qiu, and you are both dreaming.
2.30.8 And when I say that you are dreaming, this too is a dream.
2.30.9 So, this is the way I talk about it, the name for which is “talk that is bizarre as can be” [diaogui].
2.30.10 If after a myriad generations, a great sage is encountered only once but knows how to interpret what I say, this would be to encounter him as if between dawn and dusk.
2.31.1 Suppose you and I have an argument, and you beat me and I don’t beat you—does this result in you being right and I wrong? Or, I beat you and you don’t beat me—does this result in my being right and you wrong?
2.31.2 Is one of us right and one wrong? Are both of us right? Are both of us wrong? If you and I can’t come to a mutual understanding, others will certainly suffer from the obscurity of what we say, so whom shall we appoint to decide who is correct?
2.31.3 Should we appoint someone who agrees with you to decide? But since such a one would agree with you, how could he decide it? Should we appoint someone who agrees with me? But since such a one would agree with me, how could he decide it?
2.31.4 Should we appoint someone who disagrees with both you and me to decide? But since such a one would disagree with both you and me, how could he decide it?
2.31.5 Should we appoint someone who agrees with both you and me to decide it? But since such a one would agree with both you and me, how could he decide it?
2.31.6 If all this is so, since neither I nor you nor anyone else can come to a mutual understanding, should we depend on yet someone else?
2.32.1 What does it mean to be in accord with Heaven’s distinctions?
2.32.2 I say that what is deemed right is not right, and what is deemed so is not so. If right really turned out to be right, there would be no dispute between right and not right. If so really turned out to be so, there would be no dispute between so and not so.
2.32.3 The mutual dependence of changing pronouncements is such that they seem not to depend on each other.
2.32.4 Be in accord with Heaven’s distinctions and comply with their continuous transformations [manyan], for this is the way that one may exhaust the limits of one’s years.
2.32.5 Forgetting years, forgetting judgment, one takes action [zhen] in the limitless [wujing]. Therefore, one who lodges [yu] there has no limits.
2.33 Penumbra asked Shadow: “A short time ago you were moving, but now you are stopped. A short time ago you were sitting, but now you are standing up. How you lack independent control!”
2.34.1 Shadow replied, “Is it that I have something on which to depend [youdai] that I behave as I do?
2.34.2 And does that on which I depend have something else on which to depend that it behaves as it does?
2.34.3 Is my dependency that of the snake scales on the snake or the cicada wings on the cicada?
2.34.4 How should I know why I behave so? How should I know why I don’t behave so?”
2.35.1 Once Zhuang Zhou dreamt that he was a butterfly, a butterfly happy as can be, and was himself fully aware how well this suited his disposition!
2.35.2 But he was not aware that he was Zhuang Zhou.
2.35.3 When he awoke suddenly, he was astonished to be Zhuang Zhou,
2.35.4 but he did not know whether he was Zhuang Zhou who had dreamt that he was a butterfly or a butterfly which was dreaming that he was Zhuang Zhou.
2.35.5 Between Zhuang Zhou and the butterfly there had to be a boundary.
2.35.6 And this is known as the transformation of things [wuhua].
Source: Zhuangzi translated by Richard John Lynn.
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2023.03.31 06:46 romanticdrift [Not Your Fantasy Girlfriend] - Part 21 - Isekai Fantasy Humor
<< Last Cover Art & Start >> [Patreon + 5 chapters] Your Narrator Has A Lot of Emotions
A/N: Apologies for being MIA this past week! - I've been working hard on a re-write, which is complete and spans from chapter 8-13. You can start from here
if you'd like to read the re-write, but you can also just move on ahead! I've put below a bulleted summary of what now happens on chp 8-13, calling out the specific changes. To make up for my missed updates, I will be updating for the next 3 days straight (so double updates this week Thurs/Fri/Sat/Sun instead of just Thurs & Sat, and we'll be back on track!) Gemma follows some women and children in the chapel for sanctuary and talks her way into the chapel. She gets reunited with Winfred and keeps him and the other kids companies with bedtime stories (cribbing A New Hope haha). Alex wakes her up and confronts her about her potential role in the massacre, it's clearer much earlier on that he and his family suspects her of colluding with rebels and why. It's also clearer that Alex is picking up signs that something is off about this new Aurelia. She hatches the plan to tell the Silverwoods she's a seer on the walk over and we get straight into it with Magnus and Valeria about that seer assertion, instead of the previous back and forth. Valeria defends her, as before, and Alex demands to speak to her private as before, and we're back to the original chapters! Your Narrator Has A Lot of Emotions
I freeze with one foot still lifted. That voice. I whip my head to the left, in its direction—
Winfred is sprinting headfirst towards me, his chubby arms and legs flapping hard. Behind him, his dad half-runs after him, half-turns back to make apologies to the priest in front of the chapel.
I kneel down—just in time to catch Winfred as he collides hard into my legs.
“I didn’t know where you’d gone this morning! And no one would tell me!” he says. His bottom lip quivers and his eyes are shiny. “I thought maybe the attackers got you.”
My nose and throat sting.
He’s safe. His dad is safe. They’re all
I put one soothing hand on his back.
“Don’t be silly, of course they didn’t,” I say, injecting as much pep into my tone as I can. I rub at a smudge of dirt on his forehead. “I was just went away for a little bit to chat with some people.”
His dad finally catches up to us—and immediately pulls Winfred from me.
I blink at him through my tears, my hands still hovering in the air .
Winfred’s dad backs up while bowing several times. I can see a shiny burn on his leg, and an ugly gash crusted over with blood on his forearm. So he did
fight in the defense last night, like Luke had ordered all able-bodied men to do.
“Lord Alexandrius,” he stumbles out. “My apologies. Please forgive my son, he didn’t mean to interrupt you and your companion. He’s just easily excited—“
The man’s ashen pale as he holds onto his son with two arms on his shoulders. I rise and look uncertainly over at Alex.
He’s looking... rather amused?
“It’s fine? Winfred didn’t interrupt?” I say.
Alex nods. “He didn’t,” he affirms.
“Thank you, ma’am. Thank you, my lord.” Winfred’s dad bows again.
This is so weird.
I have never been called ma’am my entire life, let alone by someone whose kid I was watching just last night. Granted, Aurelia was older, but only by two years. There’s no way she gets called that regularly.
“Don’t you recognize me?” I ask. “We talked? At the river? I exchanged an apple for a potato with Winfred?”
The man somehow goes even paler. “I—my apologies. I didn’t recognize you as Lord Alexandrius’s companion.”
That was really
not what I meant.
He averts his eyes from me, turning them towards the ground. “Please excuse us, my son and I must prepare to go home. I’m sure my wife is besides herself with worry.”
“But I wasn’t done talking to Miss Aurelia!” Winfred says immediately, squirming in his dad’s hold. “You don’t mind, right, Miss?”
His dad’s hands only clench down harder on Winfred’s shoulders. He bows his head low while spinning Winfred around.
“Please forgive my son’s impertinence, Lord Alexandrius, he’s too young to know any better. Come, Winfred, Lord Alexandrius and his companion have been kind enough,” he scolds.
As he marches the boy away, Winfred cranes his head back to look at me with wide confused eyes. I wave an awkward goodbye at him.
“What was that
?” I burst out as soon as the pair is out of earshot. I had wanted to… I don’t know, at least give Winfred a full hug.
“So that was who you were asking about? Winfred’s dad?” Alex muses.
“He was just trying to say hi!”I’d only passed that night without going out of my mind because of Winfred. I should at least get to talk to him without his dad being so weird and deferential and stopping me.
Alex just shrugs. “They’re commoners, aren’t they? Of course they’d be scared. They know of my family through our countryside patrols and yearly tax collection. And last night, I suppose, given he clearly helped defend the keep. I’m sure that further clarified the extent of our status to him.”
Probably that’s all true. But the dismissive way Alex says it…
It just totally rubs me the wrong way.
I mean, of course I know I’m in a feudal society. But it’s not right that Winfred’s dad had been so scared,
to the extent that he wasn’t willing to indulge a son he’s clearly indulgent of.
And it’s not like Winfred was scared any! It’s not like Alex has some sort of super-special noble aura that everyone would stand in awe of. In fact, Winfred barely recognized him! He was trying to talk to me.
And he would have been able to if Alex’s people hadn’t made such a poor impression on his poor dad.
“Then what sort of impression have your people have made on them then?” I demand. “And why didn’t you reassure him that it was fine for Winfred to talk with me? What, do you like people being petrified of you like that?”
Alex rolls his eyes. “You sound like Aurelia. Did you inherit some of her opinions too? 1
Obviously I don’t want them petrified
. But a bit of respect towards their liege isn’t a bad thing. Look how useful it was last night.” I open my mouth again, and Alex folds his arms. “How do you know them anyway? They’re not one of the families near the Keep, are they? I don’t recognize them. ”
I close my mouth.
“Uhm.” I fidget in place.
My first instinct is to lie. Or at least not tell the full truth.
But what would be the point? Alex knows nearly everything anyway. It’d be only for my own vanity. And despite how much I've lied recently, that
makes a lie here feel distinctly worse than the other ones I've told for my survival.
“I saw Winfed again in the chapel. But we first met... on the road,” I settle on. “They were on their way to the Harvest Festival.”
I don’t say which direction I was headed.
But Alex’s a smart man. He knows the Morrells live in a cabin a hands-throw removed from the town outside the Keep. And my expression is probably filling in the rest of the blanks for him.
There’s a long pause.
Does Alex even have the right to make me feel ashamed! I never claimed to be a heroine or anything. And it’s not like I knew anyone at the Keep? If I were actually
Aurelia, I would
be ashamed if I’d contemplated leaving people I grew up with to their deaths.
But I’m not Aurelia. I’m just me. Gemma Tran.
I start babbling anyway.
“Winfred wouldn’t stop talking about the Harvest Festival,” I explain. “How excited he was, how far they’ve walked to make it, how his mom thinks it's too far away. It’s not that I hadn't thought
about how many people might be harmed by the battle, it’s just —“
“Luke’s inside there, you know,” Alex says.
I look over at him again. He jerks his head back towards the chapel.Its doors are open, providing a view straight into the interior. A fair number of women and children, who probably haven’t left after taking shelter there last night. But also a lot of men, supplicant in front of the altar.The chapel priest is nowhere to be found, but I can make out a tall slim figure inside that might be Luke.
The figure turns, and the outfit catches enough of the light. It’s definitely Luke.
“Luke said this morning he needed to speak with Father Domitian and coordinate departures for all who sought shelter with us,” Alex says.
He smirks—but there’s no real malice there.
“Had I known that family is why mine is still alive, I would’ve been thanking them, not the other way around,” he says.
My stomach unclenches a little bit.
I continue my interrupted walk across the courtyard. “Whatever. Can we go to the guest rooms now? After the two days I’ve had, I’m exhausted
“Sure,” Alex says.
Then he points to the northeast archway leading back into the castle, rather than the northwest archway I was heading towards. “It’s that way, by the way.”
<< Last Cover Art & Start >> [Patreon + 5 chapters]
- Good on Aurelia! She should push back on these stupid, spoiled opinions the Lord Alexandrius has. The more I learn about her, the more I like her, honestly. Too bad that whether our plan goes well or badly, I won’t ever have a chance to talk to Aurelia about any other opinions she might’ve had.
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2023.03.31 06:44 Hedgehog_5150 Janissary: The Joy Ride Ch3 part 3
Credit to u/bluefishcake
for writing the original SSB story and building the sandbox for us to play in.
And a big thanks to the authors and their stories that inspired to get off my ass and put fingers to keyboard. RandomTinkerer (City Slickers and Hayseeds), Punnynfunny (Denied Operations), CompassWithHat (Top Lasgun), Rhion-618 (Just One Drop), UncleCieling(Going Native), RobotStatic (Far Away), Kazevenikov (The Cryptid Chronicle).
Super thank to SmolDs1337(Convenient Narrative) he was a massive help in editing this chapter and Grey_bit how has been a big help as well.
as always comments, complaints and suggestion are welcome.
When Lorian left Robert, she was in a foul mood. This bunch of clam digging flotsam needed to be investigated for criminal negligence and abuse. If things did not change before she left, she would be contacting naval criminal investigations. She could not go to the interior due to the classified nature of the evaluation for being declared a strategic asset. She asked the guard to take her to the facility commanders office.
When she entered the facility commander there were three naval officers waiting for her, the only one she had met to this point was Lt Cmdr Ashix, the security officer that had cleared her and her team for entry into the facility, she was seated to her left as she entered. To her right appeared to be an Edixi Lieutenant Commander also from naval intelligence with medical insignia and the woman behind the desk was and was a full commander from engineering.
Taking the last seat, the guard closed the door and remained outside “before we get started, I would like to know why I should not be in contact with NCI to investigate the abuse my client has endured at your hands” The stunned looks told her they were not prepared for that.
Commander Vashini was many things, but a boy bashing child abuser was not one of them. This sand clamed piece of turox shit dared to claim that she was … she did not complete the thought she pushed her temper down growling, “Explain yourself.”
Smiling predatorily, “Certainly, a fifteen-year-old human child kept in chains and in solitary confinement for three days. Also, there was no food or water at that time. Other than a few pieces of food he took from your lunch your lunch” pointing at the woman with the medical insignia, “and no basic hygiene since he was taken into custody. Now if you do not believe me, ask the guard outside if she is allowed to remove my client’s chains.”
“I am Dr Arandis Norroe and if that is the case then why did he not speak up?” Arandis realized just how moronic her statement was out of her mouth closing her eyes, ”He does not vocalize and none of the guards knows hand speak.”
Lorian continued, “add in the Fact that that a large number of young males from this world disappear all the time and believe he is next on the tragic list. The only reason I would not get the interior involved is because if I did, the odds of him ever going home drops below fifty-fifty.”
The woman to Lorians right, Lt Cmdr Ashi, spoke next.” I had heard stories that it was happening, but I thought it was an exaggeration, you know, just stories. Is it really that bad?”
Looking at Lt Cmdr Ashi, ”In the almost five years since the imperium liberated this world there has been a loss of almost six hundred million people and those are the planetary governesses own numbers and if you ask an human that would give you and honest number it would be closer to a eight hundred million. With either number I would start calling it a genocide or a mass enslavement. When I first arrived, I came to get a man and make a ton of credits. I naively used to believe that we in the Imperium were the righteous and virtuous ones, not anymore. The interior and the nobility are all out of control of this world. Now there are some who are doing the Empress's good work, but there are not enough of them.”
Zirlyn turned to Cmdr Vashini “This changes things, we are going to need to protect him from not just external but internal threats. I will take care of the boy, Robert and make sure safe and not abused and has everything he needs. I will make sure he has access to communicate with family and other involved persons. Once my background investigation is complete.”
Cmdr Vashini was reeling, she was complicit in boy bashing, almost. She had fucked up now she had to fix it. “Advocate, LtCmdr Ashix will see to all of the issues you have raised” Raising her voice “Guard Please get in here.”
The guard replied as she entered, ”Yes Ma’am”
“Please get our guest fully kitted out with the exception of weapons, armor, and electronic devices he will not need for now. And return any personal items again with exceptions identified. All personnel that need to interact with our guest will be equipped with a translation program for terrain hand speak. Once kitted out you and two others will escort our guest to an area where he may take care of his personal hygiene needs without intrusion. Per naval protocol our guest will not be restrained unless he is being interviewed by a technical person. That means leave the restraints in the interview room. Dismissed.”
When the guard acknowledged her orders and left, Cmdr Vashini “That should improve his treatment. The restraints are required, unless overridden by a flag officer. Advocate is there anything I can do right now to correct his mistreatment.”
“That should be sufficient for now. When this meeting is over I will check in with my client and see if he needs anything else and coordinate with LtCmdr Ashix ”, Lorian replied, relieved that there was no fight or recrimination, just fix the problems and more on.
Cmdr Vashini turns to Dr Norroe, “Doctor you're up.”
Dr Norroe sat up and began her presentation, ”I start with a complete review of his medical and educational records which are interesting to say the least. I was able to verify four items identified by a human psychologist from before the liberation, any one of these if he were not human, he would have been institutionalized with the expectation of a pending psychotic break and becoming a danger to himself and others. In curd terms he is a defective and was labeled as so when his mother moved him to Prescott. Fortunately for us his mother chose to parental educate.”
Lorian broke in “Don’t you mean fortunately for him not us?”
Bemused by the interruption” Yes you are correct. Where was I,” looking back to her notes “parental education option. To say I am impressed with her success is an understatement. He completed the imperium basic primary education curriculum in less than three terrain years with exceptional marks in every subject except language related courses. This shows his raw intelligence is very high and my cognitive test confirms he is at least a one in a hundred thousand intellect.”
Dr Norroe paused to let the good part sink in,” Now the four items I mentioned earlier Dyslexia, digraphia, low latent inhibition, and manic depression. We have different names for them, dyslexia is called ‘non-linear developmental psychosis’, digraphia is called ‘limited developmental cognitive articulation’ these a both defined by humans as learning disabilities and the humans have been aware if this for some though most of the time it is miss diagnosed. When correctly identified there are several strategies to work around and adapt the educational environment for this. For low latent inhibition or hyper process stimulation, this is so rare for us there is almost no research on the subject, except to indicate that it is a death sentence by the age of ten and mostly affects boys.
Cmdr Vashini broke in, “Are you telling me that humans deal with this all of the time.”
Dr Norroe had to laugh,” Hardly, with the learning disabilities they do not just deal they have used it a s a species to drive their technological advancement without dyslexia I do not think the human would have gone from the first powered flight to their lunar landing in one human lifetime, research in the subject showed that half of the engineers involved had the condition. The condition affects about fifteen to twenty percent of the population, so I believe there was an evolutionary advantage. About the same number of humans are left-handed, for the Shil’vita left handedness is about three percent.”
Lorian remembered something Robert had said: it is a blessing and a curse.
“With humans there is a very diverse spectrum of these learning disabilities.” Dr Norroe continued. “ In His case the manic depression is directly tied to his limited ability to articulate what he is thinking. This may be why he produced so many abstract art pieces, he is expressing an idea the only way he can.
Back to the testing I did with Robert showed not only is he very intelligent, but he is very creative as well and like all the others who have dyslexia, he just thinks differently.”
Dr Norroe paused waiting for any questions and pulled up an example, “Here we have two images one titled rain drops on glass next to one titled gravity lensing optical distortion. The first one would be considered art the other science. This is an example in true non-linear thinking, it is clear that the first triggered the second.”
Cmdr Vashini rubbed her forehead.” I do not understand how somebody could go from rain drops on a piece of glass to an understanding of gravitational lensing. There is no logical way to connect the two.”
Lt Cmdr Ashix countered “No, it is a form of pattern recognition. I am trained to see things that do not belong, and that took years, he connects things instinctively. I bet if he did speak, he would be finishing your sentences for you, and be correct better than half of the time.”
Cmdr Vashini,” Now that we have taken Dr Norroe up a side stream, the idea of pattern recognition begs the question if that thing out in the hanger is a piece of a pattern, if it is, then is it the start or the end. If this is the end of the pattern, the kid will be rich off all the things that come out of it. We have figured out about ten percent of what he created but no real idea why. From that ten percent the team has identified six or seven applications for just the navy.”
Lorian had to smile at the commander’s admission. Six or seven new applications in just a few days, this was very good news. “I will need that information in basic concept form, no technical data. It is legally his, is it not?”
Advocates, Cmdr Vashini though bemused, always looking for a quick credit,” Yes, it is all his if we ever figure out what it is. Now if we are done with this subject Doctor please continue.”
Garquile was as close to his happy place as the situation would allow. His ankle monitor chaffed as he tried to move around the kitchen. Two things in his life brought him great pleasure. Cooking and barrel racing. Cooking was a creative passion, a chance to tune out the world and concentrate on the creation of a flavor and texture, a single note of a song that would make up a meal. He had prepped all of the fruits, vegetables and was now working on the main dish, two large Copi, fresh from the upper Mississippi River. Deboning and deveining was the tedious and delicate part. If you rushed, you could leave the meat unpresentable. Finishing his cleanup of the filets, he surveyed his handy work, perfect
Three perfect filets for the adults doing their important adulting stuff, even with all four advocated here. The kids, himself included, would have the other filets with the gill meat and the trimming from the other filets that were too thin to be cooked the way he wanted. The Copi was covered in a mango lime jerk chutney to give the fish a delicate crusted glaze, when cooked in an outdoor brick oven. Waiting for the Copi, would be individual bowls of pad thai, served with a reduced coconut milk jerk spice reduction.
The kids, himself and his siblings would get fish tacos. Fish tacos were not something he made very often for dinner, it was finger food, it was not appropriate for the evening family meal in the dining room, but they were not having a real family meal tonight, so guilty finger food was on the menu.
Tonight’s meal would have been fun if not for the fact that he and Tommy were both wearing ankle monitors and Robert was locked in a cage and was being treated like an animal, from what he had overheard. Afterwards, the adults sealed off the dining room so they could talk in private. The family dining room was the only place in the house that could double up as a conference room.
Tommy had been pretty freaked out over the three days they had been detained. Tommy had explained it to him the day after they got back. Humans until very recently were not citizens of the Imperium and had no legal status for due process, so if he did anything the powers that be could just ship him off to the marines. It was a favorite tactic of the interior to deal with the troublemakers. Now he was a muted version of himself. Tommy always seemed to want to protect Robert, mainly from family shit with his grandfather.
He had met both Robert and Tommy about a month after they had moved to Earth in a Kung fu class. One of his mother’s security detail had started training long before he and his family arrived and suggested it as a way to integrate into the local community in a controlled environment. His sisters loved it from the start, mainly to interact with boys. It was not until he shifted into the Tia chi that he began to enjoy the Kung Fu. The only thing he still dreaded was sparing, the human boys would take the opportunity to hit him a little harder just to piss off his sisters. He remembered that early on Robert never attacked when he spared only using counter strikes.
He remembered his father telling him that every young woman should defend their family and every young man should have the poise and confidence to allow them to do it. Having confidence in your wife’s ability to defend you showed in how you presented yourself, you would never cower because you would never have to. Public displays of confidence in your wives are one of the most powerful displays of love and devotion the world can ever be shown. At least according to his father, he had eleven wives in his forty-six years and his youngest wife, Lalania, was almost twenty.
The timer on the oven pulled Garquile out of his thoughts the Copi was done and needed to be plated. Presentation was important, mother had an image to maintain, he could not and would not serve anything that was just thrown onto a plate. He and three of his sisters would serve the adults restaurant style since this was working dinner. Tommy would be serving the wine, he had the advantage working as a server in the local casino’s restaurant. Servers worked with the waiters to refresh the drinks and bring out the food for the waiters to present to customers. The server position was just a dodge to get around the law requiring waiters to be eighteen human years old to serve alcohol.
Garquile’s mother only tolerated having a large household staff to serve official functions. She had been very forceful when she had become governess. So that her children would not become lazy bottom feeders, all of the children had chores. Garquile had traded his sister Valenlina, laundry for cooking. She hated both chores, but laundry took less time than cooking the family meal four nights a week.
Garquile had chosen a pair of white wines from the Sonoita region, a Albarino and a Verdejo. Tommy had suggested these because they were very popular with fish at the restaurants. The guests would get to choose, and the family would get the leftovers. Garquile had Valenlina call their father and tell him that dinner was on its way. When they arrived with the food the table was not cleared but all the papers and data slate had been moved to the side of their owners. Garquile sighed. So much for his proper presentation, they were too engrossed to really care, but the show must go on. As his sisters presented the meal to their guests and family, Garquile described the meal, detailing each aspect. Tommy picked up with a well-practiced description of the wines when Garquile finished.
With the meal served, the children retreated to the outdoor patio. Garquile and Tommy brought out the tacos and chips and set them up near the fire pit. Valenlina came out last carrying the blender and margarita mix, the only thing missing was alcohol. Garquile intended to fix that at least.
Tommy had been looking out for Robert ever since they had met, not that Robert needed protection. Tommy acted like a filter, keeping the B.S. to a minimum and keeping him engaged with the people around him. When Tommy had asked him and Valenlina to help with the car,both of them had been excited. For Valenlina, a classic human car was a maybe someday
dream, but time with Tommy was time with Tommy. Tommy explained that Robert had really started engaging with people when they started the car. It was something he could talk about that others could understand…. right up until the motor that had taken the six months of hard-core scrapping to buy. When the motor had turned out to be a worthless boat anchor, Robert had reverted to being disengaged. Lost in his data slate shell as he had been before, Garquile still did not know what had gotten Robert to re-engage so to speak.
As everyone was chowing down on the tacos, Garquile got the mixer going on the drinks. Valenlina started giving Tommy a back rub in to hope he would relax for a little while when she asked, “So Tommy, I never asked, whose idea was it to make the car fly?”
Sighing in pleasure Tommy replied, ”You keep that up I will tell you all of my secrets and maybe a few lies to make you believe in Santa Claus.”
Garquile brought over a tray of drinks, ”Mother would be aghast if she saw you handling a boy like that, and what do you mean Santa Claus isn’t real? You have destroyed my innocence!” He chimed in mockingly.
Tommy grabbed the drink when offered, Garquile made sure it was the one that was spiked. Tommy noticed the special ingredient, “Trying to help your sister loosen my resolve to her charms I see”.
Garquile feigned ignorance about the fact Tommy and his sister had been having sex for over a year now. Valenlina had told him, as soon as it happened, because she had to tell somebody, and he could keep a secret. There was a problem with the secret as it was not a secret. All of the parents knew and let Tommy and Valenlina believe they were being discreet. Valenlina had explained to him that Tommy was amazing, but he was also safe, and he felt the same way. They were not using each other, just enjoying what they had. Knowing it would be over in less than a year, when she would travel to Shil for University. “Please, my sister has no charm, as well as limited manners, but if you are going to spill your secrets…. I am listening.”
Valenlina worked her hands from the top of Tommy’s shoulders to just below his shoulder blades, ”As I am putty in Valenlina hands, I will tell you it was all Bobby’s idea. The reason he withdrew was he was afraid Granddad would get pissed about wanting to do a Shil’vita based retro mod on a sixty-nine Charger.”
Garquile finally getting his own drink “I would have watched Granddads reaction. I bet he blew a gaskit?.. I think that was the right way to say that.”
“It was, but not the way you would think. His first reaction was to snarf the beer he was drinking right his nose laughing. The guy he got the car from, Martinez, had a couple requests, ‘make it cool, fast and no shit purple shil metal on it’.
ates the purple metal because it is a pain to shape by hand.” Pausing for another sip of his drink. “It took my Granddad a good five minutes to stop coughing while Robert was sitting there waiting for him to lay down the hammer on him, but then granddad said something neither of us were expecting.‘show what you have.’
Robert just sat there stunned then like a dam breaking. Bobby asked are you sure
and my granddad just said show me what you have
Getting up to sit next to him, Valenlinaleaned over to wrap her arms around him. “It took Bobby about three hours to explain what needed to be done to make the car fly, with a top speed that he guessed was around two hundred and fifty miles an hour. When Bobby dropped that
little tidbit about going faster granddad asked how much faster. Bobby only said that if he didn't deal with the heat, the car would melt. My granddad couldn'tthink how fast that would be and just told Boddy "let's just make it fly first then go for speed records
Garquile then asked, “So how long did it take to design all of this, to me it seemed that it was all in his head?”
Tommy rolled head back and laughed “To be honest, I have no idea, he could have been thinking about it since we started. He is like a dog playing fetch and then suddenly he sees a squirrel and off to the races, then ten minutes later he comes back with a rabbit and toy boat.”
First: Janissary: The Joy Ride Ch1 : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
Previous: Janissary: The Joy Ride Ch3 part 2 : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
Extra: Janissary: The Son Of War : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
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2023.03.31 06:37 fac3ts [PC] Team Liquid themed inventory (karambit, 3xholos & blue coloured skins)
Hi everyone, I’ve been away from cs a long time and looking to maybe cash out my inventory. I have 3x TL crafted skins for the main rifles and pistols, and some interesting crafts like #1 st cz polymer w/ 3x TL columbus holos & twistzz signature, #2 sun in Leo w/ TL Atlanta holo on the scope, mw 3x Boston holo twilight galaxy. Basically have a couple $5-$30 skins with $50-$150 in stickers. Also have a ft bright water karambit. A couple other fun crafts that aren’t worth much though.
Trading sites have my inventory at $1300-$1500 and I wanted to know if any of my crafts could get fetch overpay if I were to sell the whole inventory?
I don’t even have cs installed so I don’t have screenshots, but here’s my inventory
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2023.03.31 06:32 level6toast I guess I'm not the only one with weird vivid dreams, this one has been bothering me the past few weeks, feel like I missed a message
I had this dream recently, it really shook me and seemed like an actual message or warning. Typically, if I even remember my dreams, they may be disturbing or strange but nothing important. I've had scarier dreams and been shaken, but not felt like there was anything to worry about after the dream wore off.
This dream happened right around when a new neighbor moved in, haven't seen them, just have a bad vibe for some reason.
Tw there is blood and someone was murdered. You don't see the violence but know it happened. I'm writing the dream sometime later and I'm not sure if it's fused with another dream. I did have a moment where I wondered if this was a real person who was murdered and trying to tell me something, and maybe it was related to the new neighbor somehow.
I was waiting with my friends at a bus stop, these people don't exist in real life, the only person I recogized after I woke was a character from a TV show I rewatched a year or two ago. Oddly now that I think about it, while watching the show we were staying at an airbnb that had a funny vibe.
At one point I started getting annoyed with them (all guys) and their immaturity so I decided to go for a short walk. I knew the bus wasn't coming in a while, but I did not want to go far. In the dream I was much younger than now. It kinda threw me. I would not have a band of young men around me these days.
I walked a bit deeper into the neighborhood and up a curving path through a grassy area toward some houses along the main road. Where the path met the sidewalk I saw a statue and thought it was strangely placed. I had a sense of foreboding. And not sure if I recall correctly but I think in my dream there was a serial killer on the loose and one of my friends didn't want me to be off on my own...
When I got close to the statue I saw it was of a woman in robes, and realized to my shock and horror it was a real woman drenched in blood and thought she was dead. And then I wasn't sure. Was this some kind of sick prank? The blood on her face and body was tacky and thick like mostly dried paint. I felt like it would peel off like acrylic paint and wondered if it was real. It was a deep red and clotted like period blood.
Something told me not to call the police, I had the creepy feeling I was being watched, that I might be killed if I did. And that they wanted to watch people react to this, but not get caught. I wasn't sure if I ran if I could escape them or if they had planned for that. There were also no branches or objects laying about, though I noticed a pile of stuff in a place I could not reach quickly, as if it had been cleared away. And I might get grabbed if I tried.
My next reaction for some reason was to try to sense where she was from and if her family was nearby. If they were in the neighborhood the killer would probably let me go, hoping more people would come to the scene and react to it. It would please him.
I felt cold and empty trying to sense family in the area, so I knew they weren't there. I wondered about her family, if they were worried or looking for her. Or if she really was alone. I did not sense she had any close family or friends for some reason. I felt a sense of loneliness and sadness for her.
I can still picture her face, where the blood wasn't, she had smooth skin, round face, probably in her 30s. My sense was she was from the West Coast, maybe PNW? But then I felt that was wrong. She seemed familiar but I could not place her. For a strange moment I felt like I had seen her in a photo from an earlier, distant time, which seemed impossible since she seemed so young. It was early spring but she wasn't pale from winter like the rest of us.
She seemed like she recently had been recently to a warm sunny place and tanned by the sun. I could almost sense the warmth of the sun from her, a strong sun, maybe tropical this time of year. And that she had been somewhere very green, lush. It was almost like I could smell it. It had a woodsy sense, felt cool in contrast to the sun. I could also sense from her a colder, sharper, northern personality that seems not pacific northwest. She knew real winter. For some reason I thought somewhere tropical was her ancestry and she may have felt at peace there, but winter was in her blood and upbringing.
And from her eyes she seemed very sharp witted and pragmatic. I was worried that if she had a message I might not get it, and she might be impatient, as she was much smarter and quicker than me. I couldn't tell if she was frozen somehow or dead. My feeling was that she was barely alive and she could be saved if I could figure out how to help her without appearing to get help, because whoever was watching might end her.
One memory tells me her eyes were closed, another tells me they were open, clear and shiny eyed, alert as if she were alive and conscious. She had the look of the dead, staring into nothing, but even though her eyes didn't move, I sensed her eyes clear and her seeing me with clarity and watchfulness. Part of me sensed a wisdom and power from her and I wondered if I was being tested somehow. She was standing at a sort of crossroads and when I left my friends and took that path I sensed a transition to another world, like I passed through a veil.
It was hard to tell if she were alive or dead. She seemed frozen and unable to move. I felt like she needed my help, but at the same time it seemd like she had control of the situation and was just watching to see how I'd handle it. Or maybe just felt bitter resignation. I felt confused.
Suddenly I sensed a warning from her, like someone had closed in, and I looked around me to make sure no one could take me by surprise. I still sensed that someone else was there, watching. And intended harm. There was nothing nearby to use as a weapon. And I felt like she had been posed there, deliberately to be found. And that the area was kept clear of anything I might happen to use to defend myself. Whoever did it wanted some form of attention, the more, the better. But they didn't want to be caught.
I kept feeling more and more scared. I did not want to abandon her but at the same time it seemed best to get reinforcements. The neighborhood seemed oddly cold and empty, like a simulation. The only people I was sure to find and trust were my friends. And I sensed she was ok I left, she wasn't afraid, there was a sense she wished, wanted I would go. I'm not really sure though.
I had a weird feeling that she was left there and posed by the serial killer. But at the same time it was so unreal I swore it had to be a prank. Like one of those people who pretend they're statues and stand very still. There was also something supernatural about her that I dismissed as imagination.
I headed back to my friends, listening and alert to danger. I feared leaving her that she would gone before we could get back, but I wanted to leave the danger behind. At one point I felt like I passed through a kind of weak force field back into my world. Wasn't sure if it was me imagining it. Wasn't sure what would happen if I brought people back to rescue her. Hopefully a group of us could overpower the serial killer or make him keep his distance. Would she still be there? Would the serial killer have had his laugh and moved her, or was he waiting for more? I wasn't sure if she would be removed or it was a different world I walked into.
The friend who intially tried to stop me from wandering off seemed confused and worried when he saw me. I told them about it and woke up when they grouped up and started heading toward the path with me telling them where she was.
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