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Submit screenshots of all your *NIX desktops, themes, and nifty configurations, or submit anything else that will make ricers happy. Maybe a server running on an Amiga, or a Thinkpad signed by Bjarne Stroustrup? Show the world how pretty your computer can be!
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Hey mate welcome to the Aussie stock market subreddit! Stock market news, long term investing, fundamental analysis, trading, technical analysis, ETFs – all Australian stock related posts are welcome here on /austockmarket!
2023.03.25 03:24 420goattaog Patterns are starting to show! Looks like we have 4 hooded and 3 albino!
 | submitted by 420goattaog to RATS [link] [comments] |
2023.03.25 03:23 oo7o5 Hot teen stepdaughter needs to be fucked every day by an old man - Talia Palmer
 | submitted by oo7o5 to Timloa [link] [comments] |
2023.03.25 03:22 Blursed-Penguin No Rest for the Wicked 20
FirstPreviousNext
---
In keeping with the long-standing tradition of militaries around the world to never actually finish doing anything, the end of the initial invasion of Omen was declared on that day. Not the end of hostilities, nor of combat, nor even of major combat operations. The end of the initial invasion. The backs of their forces on-world had been broken, but they were far from done fighting.
Darren wasn’t too enthused.
The order to scramble came just as he finished unloading crates of supplies from the newest freighter into the system. Sighing, he grabbed his rifle and ran for the hangar deck of the Bunker Hill, donning his armor on the way. The Dark Sparrow sat fueling on the deck, about half of the platoon already aboard. Once on himself, Darren learned the circumstances of what had happened.
A number of servicemen had gone rogue while on duty in Omen’s capital, holing up in a building and detonating a canister of chlorine gas. Dozens of civilians were already dead, and they had warded off all attempts by military police to apprehend them.
“Brainwashed?” Darren turned to Pavlov.
“Yeah, definitely.” Pavlov said, consulting a flash card containing the signs of Poslushi neuroforming. It had been noticed that the brainwashed had an eerie calm about them, but were otherwise hard to detect, being nearly identical to their prior selves. Darren wondered when the government would stop panicking about national security and declassify the whole thing about brainwashing.
The helicopter lifted off the ground and started the somewhat short flight towards the capital, apparently named High Unlerin. It was already visible on the horizon; for a major city, it wasn’t very large. Then, Darren saw that it actually blended into the surrounding forest, concrete and metal fading into lumber and dirt roads. The city center was built in the flowy, vibrant style of the Poslushi; the previous had probably been demolished to make room. However, the Poslushi were far more regular in their construction than the Ovinis, making the Rangers’ jobs easier.
Poslushi cities were built in a honeycomb style, which made them horrendous for automobile traffic but otherwise efficient for saving space. It made sense, considering the Poslushi had no wheeled vehicles, using nimble, legged machines in the place of cars. Each city “block” was its own building, constructed in a rough spire shape, sometimes with a statue or similar art piece to top the towers.
This particular one was bright blue, with a structure composed of multiple parts that stretched upward and melded together like wisps of flame. However, it was partially obscured at the ground level by a cloud of sickly yellow-green gas, and a multitude of dark, limp forms lay strewn about. The whole block had been cordoned off, with barriers and hazard-suited guards abound.
“Jesus. Why would they kill their own citizens?” Pavlov mused, gazing down at the numerous corpses below.
“My best guess is scorched earth or maybe trying to induce some sort of terrorism to make our jobs harder.” Simmons proposed, shrugging.
“Well, it isn’t anything we can’t solve with a little bit of elbow grease and judicious application of firepower. Nothing like 8.5mm to dissuade the bad guys, eh?” Sparrow remarked.
“Nothing indeed.” Darren said. The helicopter hovered over the building, its doors sliding open and the lights on the roof flashing green.
“Go, go, go!” Pavlov barked, donning his gas mask and leaping from the Dark Sparrow. The rest followed shortly after, Darren’s heart leaping into his throat before his jetpack kicked on and sent him gently drifting into the asphalt. The gas mask was hot and not well-ventilated, but it was better than the water in his lungs turning to hydrochloric acid and dissolving him from the inside out. At least it wasn’t VX or some equally-terrible nerve agent.
Darren loaded and primed his rifle, finding the rest of his platoon and regrouping. Once gathered, they split up into their combat teams, spreading out to cover all entrances to the building. Darren, Pavlov, and Simmons went to the south doors, while two six-man teams breached the other, more heavily-trapped entrances. Darren ran his hands over the door, checking for anything that could indicate a trap or mine. Nothing.
Cringing, he mustered his courage and ripped the door open, expecting the entrance to explode. It didn’t, somehow. Darren leaned over, rifle brandished–
Thwip. A bullet whizzed past Darren’s head, the shot sounding a fraction of a second later. Yelping, Darren ducked back behind the doorframe as Pavlov discharged a shot from his grenade launcher. The shell exploded in a burst of light and sound, and Darren entered shortly afterward, setting his sights upon the blinded shooter and firing twice. The soldier staggered back, then collapsed. Darren methodically advanced down the hallway, keeping an eye to each side in case someone emerged from there.
This place was quiet. Too quiet. Their intel showed that there were at least a dozen rogue men in this building, but where were the gunshots as the other two teams encountered their own enemies? Surely they wouldn’t guard one entrance and abandon the others?
“Hey, there’s a note.” Pavlov said, stooping down to grab a small, lightly-bloodstained piece of paper from the ground next to the corpse. Darren kept an eye out as he started to read.
To the esteemed units of the United States Armed Forces, or whomever else may find this,
My name is Sgt. Philip Halloway, and I am most likely dead. I am alone within this building; it has been arranged for the numbers to be bungled to increase the urgency of your response. I have chosen to hasten my exit from this world by firing a warning shot; if I had intended to hit you, you would not be reading this. Don’t worry about me. I’ve nothing left to lose anyways, and I’ve chosen this task for myself.
The events of the last few years, namely the Contact Wars and the recent outbreak of hostilities with the Poslushi, have left many embittered, including me. You may know us as the Mankind Defense Home Guard, or the MDHG for simplicity’s sake. You will most likely hear more from us in the coming time.
“The hell does that mean?” Pavlov squinted at the text.
“Go on, keep going.” Darren urged him.
First things first, we do not believe that humankind holds any special place in the cosmos, that we are any form of “master race,” or the like. For that, contact any of the dozens of nationalist, jingoist, or downright neo-Nazi groups out there, to which you will find us far preferable. However, that is not to say that we do not believe the alien to be an existential threat to our way of life and/or survival as a species. Like any threat, they are to be neutralized with efficiency and without sentimentality, up to and including the great taboo of genocide, should it become unfortunately necessary.
This unsavory act was an important step in the preparation of mankind for a thousand more crimes like this, done so that no greater atrocity need be committed. Think of this as sowing salt in the fields of war. One day, you’ll thank us for our insight when your children walk the stars freely and without fear, and violence is an evil long forgotten.
Thank you for your time.
P.S.: Check my chest. No secret keeps forever.
Darren inspected the vest of the dead soldier, the blood-drenched graphene augmented with a strange pouch not present on the standard-issue model. Inside was… oh, no.
A tiny webcam, a little red light on its side blinking, probably still broadcasting. And it had heard Halloway’s entire speech. Darren picked it up and clicked a button on its backside twice to switch it off. Then, he activated his radio.
“Platoon, we might want to relay this to command. Looks like we just participated in one hell of a publicity stunt.”
—
“Director Hoover? We’ve got a Colonel Jasper here to talk to you. It seems important.”
“Send him in.” the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency spoke into the phone. The door to his office creaked open and a hulking soldier entered, in his old dress blues, his chest festooned with medals of all kinds. He had an imperious, authoritative air about him, but it was not something the head of the most feared intelligence organization in the world would let sway him.
“Director Hoover.” Colonel Jasper saluted.
“Colonel, you mind telling us precisely what your underling was doing gassing a number of civilians on Omen? You’re lucky we found you before the Hague did.”
“The perpetrator undertook this action on his own and with no intervention from us, even if we were mentioned. We don’t control what people do in their downtime.” Jasper shrugged.
“Well, you should, if they’re going to do this. We’ve been trying to establish good relations with the populace and your little maverick’s just set us back severely. You had better hope he acted alone, or your group’s going on the list we use for terrorists. And you don’t want to be on that list, no matter how tough you think you are.”
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, it won’t work.” Jasper said, narrowing his eyes and leaning over the desk. “I’ve fought in the Anathema Encounter, what makes you think I’ll–”
“You will not mention that incident!” the Director shouted, slamming his palms on the desk and standing up. Supposedly, Director Hoover was one of the foremost “agents of regime correction” in the service before his appointment, and Jasper could see the killer in him as he postured himself almost predatorily. Then, he collected himself and spoke with measured calm.
“It’s bad enough that you know about Anathema. Do what you must, if you believe that you can rally the people to your cause. But the moment we find any evidence that you ordered this, you’re going away for a long time. And if you so much as say a word about Anathema to anyone, you’ll be in a blacksite before the week’s out. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
Jasper sighed. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now leave. Next time, I’m not going to be nice.”
—
Hell on Earth wasn’t a really accurate way to describe war. War was a lot worse. In Hell, things were uniformly terrible, and no one was there without cause. In war, things got better just long enough to leave one complacent when they got worse, and it was filled with people caught inside by plain bad luck.
These notions were unknown to the United States Air Force. From so high up and so far away, war was impersonal. You didn’t have to look the man you shot in the eye. No scream of terror, no keening of anguish could carry twenty kilometers into the air, after all.
The bomber squadron was near-serene as it shot over the landscape of Omen. The only sound was the consistent whine of jet engines and the occasional peal of thunder from storms that appeared on the horizon in a flash and vanished as quickly as they came. The blackness of space was readily visible above.
The remainders of the Poslushi garrison had long since seen the settlements of the planet as a lost cause, retiring to the hamlets of the forests to continue the fight. It was a shame; many of the airmen had been looking forward to a tropical paradise to vacation in.
The pilot of the B-60 in the lead turned to the weapons systems officer. “Get ready to drop the payload.” the WSO nodded, tapping a set of buttons on his control console. In the bomb bay, the electric fuses of the dozen bombs activated simultaneously. All the while, the bomber shrieked towards its target at Mach 6.
Three hundred kilometers out, the squadron dispersed, each bomber flying to its own target. There was no longer any worry of enemy interception to be had; the brave pilots of the Bunker Hill had all but annihilated the already small air forces of the garrison.
A minute later, they were within two hundred kilometers. Hypersonic aircraft were, true to their name, rather fast.
“Drop our speed and pop open the bomb bay.” the navigator ordered. Rapidly, the aircraft descended to Mach 3, the great doors in the plane’s belly sliding open. If they opened the bay doors while at cruising speed, the immense change in air resistance could tear the bomber apart. Still, it was moving fast, far too quick for the manually-aimed Poslushi air defenses to track.
“Three… two… drop.” the pilot counted. Nodding, the WSO pressed a button and the payload began falling from the plane at regular intervals. One bomb every two seconds, a dozen bombs total, leaving a trail of falling bombs twenty-four kilometers long. The payload plummeted towards the ground for a few short seconds, and then the tiny explosive charges in the casings detonated, blowing the bombs apart and leaving in their place a whirlwind of swirling, falling papers. Written in the language of the Ovinis, they were a warning, telling any civilians in the area to vacate immediately before the worst happened.
It was no empty threat. Twenty-four hours later, they would repeat this route with a far different payload. The Poslushi would also do well to heed their words, because this time they would be carrying napalm bombs, and a lot more than twelve of them.
War was not hell. It was far worse. However, mankind knew how to make war seem like hell, more literally than not in some cases.
(AN: Forgot to celebrate #10, so let's celebrate #20! Woo! Anyways, I don't exactly like war, as you can see. However, it makes exploring the consequences of a fictional war quite interesting. Just wait until things really start to escalate!
Love 'ya!)
submitted by Blursed-Penguin to HFY [link] [comments]
---
In keeping with the long-standing tradition of militaries around the world to never actually finish doing anything, the end of the initial invasion of Omen was declared on that day. Not the end of hostilities, nor of combat, nor even of major combat operations. The end of the initial invasion. The backs of their forces on-world had been broken, but they were far from done fighting.
Darren wasn’t too enthused.
The order to scramble came just as he finished unloading crates of supplies from the newest freighter into the system. Sighing, he grabbed his rifle and ran for the hangar deck of the Bunker Hill, donning his armor on the way. The Dark Sparrow sat fueling on the deck, about half of the platoon already aboard. Once on himself, Darren learned the circumstances of what had happened.
A number of servicemen had gone rogue while on duty in Omen’s capital, holing up in a building and detonating a canister of chlorine gas. Dozens of civilians were already dead, and they had warded off all attempts by military police to apprehend them.
“Brainwashed?” Darren turned to Pavlov.
“Yeah, definitely.” Pavlov said, consulting a flash card containing the signs of Poslushi neuroforming. It had been noticed that the brainwashed had an eerie calm about them, but were otherwise hard to detect, being nearly identical to their prior selves. Darren wondered when the government would stop panicking about national security and declassify the whole thing about brainwashing.
The helicopter lifted off the ground and started the somewhat short flight towards the capital, apparently named High Unlerin. It was already visible on the horizon; for a major city, it wasn’t very large. Then, Darren saw that it actually blended into the surrounding forest, concrete and metal fading into lumber and dirt roads. The city center was built in the flowy, vibrant style of the Poslushi; the previous had probably been demolished to make room. However, the Poslushi were far more regular in their construction than the Ovinis, making the Rangers’ jobs easier.
Poslushi cities were built in a honeycomb style, which made them horrendous for automobile traffic but otherwise efficient for saving space. It made sense, considering the Poslushi had no wheeled vehicles, using nimble, legged machines in the place of cars. Each city “block” was its own building, constructed in a rough spire shape, sometimes with a statue or similar art piece to top the towers.
This particular one was bright blue, with a structure composed of multiple parts that stretched upward and melded together like wisps of flame. However, it was partially obscured at the ground level by a cloud of sickly yellow-green gas, and a multitude of dark, limp forms lay strewn about. The whole block had been cordoned off, with barriers and hazard-suited guards abound.
“Jesus. Why would they kill their own citizens?” Pavlov mused, gazing down at the numerous corpses below.
“My best guess is scorched earth or maybe trying to induce some sort of terrorism to make our jobs harder.” Simmons proposed, shrugging.
“Well, it isn’t anything we can’t solve with a little bit of elbow grease and judicious application of firepower. Nothing like 8.5mm to dissuade the bad guys, eh?” Sparrow remarked.
“Nothing indeed.” Darren said. The helicopter hovered over the building, its doors sliding open and the lights on the roof flashing green.
“Go, go, go!” Pavlov barked, donning his gas mask and leaping from the Dark Sparrow. The rest followed shortly after, Darren’s heart leaping into his throat before his jetpack kicked on and sent him gently drifting into the asphalt. The gas mask was hot and not well-ventilated, but it was better than the water in his lungs turning to hydrochloric acid and dissolving him from the inside out. At least it wasn’t VX or some equally-terrible nerve agent.
Darren loaded and primed his rifle, finding the rest of his platoon and regrouping. Once gathered, they split up into their combat teams, spreading out to cover all entrances to the building. Darren, Pavlov, and Simmons went to the south doors, while two six-man teams breached the other, more heavily-trapped entrances. Darren ran his hands over the door, checking for anything that could indicate a trap or mine. Nothing.
Cringing, he mustered his courage and ripped the door open, expecting the entrance to explode. It didn’t, somehow. Darren leaned over, rifle brandished–
Thwip. A bullet whizzed past Darren’s head, the shot sounding a fraction of a second later. Yelping, Darren ducked back behind the doorframe as Pavlov discharged a shot from his grenade launcher. The shell exploded in a burst of light and sound, and Darren entered shortly afterward, setting his sights upon the blinded shooter and firing twice. The soldier staggered back, then collapsed. Darren methodically advanced down the hallway, keeping an eye to each side in case someone emerged from there.
This place was quiet. Too quiet. Their intel showed that there were at least a dozen rogue men in this building, but where were the gunshots as the other two teams encountered their own enemies? Surely they wouldn’t guard one entrance and abandon the others?
“Hey, there’s a note.” Pavlov said, stooping down to grab a small, lightly-bloodstained piece of paper from the ground next to the corpse. Darren kept an eye out as he started to read.
To the esteemed units of the United States Armed Forces, or whomever else may find this,
My name is Sgt. Philip Halloway, and I am most likely dead. I am alone within this building; it has been arranged for the numbers to be bungled to increase the urgency of your response. I have chosen to hasten my exit from this world by firing a warning shot; if I had intended to hit you, you would not be reading this. Don’t worry about me. I’ve nothing left to lose anyways, and I’ve chosen this task for myself.
The events of the last few years, namely the Contact Wars and the recent outbreak of hostilities with the Poslushi, have left many embittered, including me. You may know us as the Mankind Defense Home Guard, or the MDHG for simplicity’s sake. You will most likely hear more from us in the coming time.
“The hell does that mean?” Pavlov squinted at the text.
“Go on, keep going.” Darren urged him.
First things first, we do not believe that humankind holds any special place in the cosmos, that we are any form of “master race,” or the like. For that, contact any of the dozens of nationalist, jingoist, or downright neo-Nazi groups out there, to which you will find us far preferable. However, that is not to say that we do not believe the alien to be an existential threat to our way of life and/or survival as a species. Like any threat, they are to be neutralized with efficiency and without sentimentality, up to and including the great taboo of genocide, should it become unfortunately necessary.
This unsavory act was an important step in the preparation of mankind for a thousand more crimes like this, done so that no greater atrocity need be committed. Think of this as sowing salt in the fields of war. One day, you’ll thank us for our insight when your children walk the stars freely and without fear, and violence is an evil long forgotten.
Thank you for your time.
P.S.: Check my chest. No secret keeps forever.
Darren inspected the vest of the dead soldier, the blood-drenched graphene augmented with a strange pouch not present on the standard-issue model. Inside was… oh, no.
A tiny webcam, a little red light on its side blinking, probably still broadcasting. And it had heard Halloway’s entire speech. Darren picked it up and clicked a button on its backside twice to switch it off. Then, he activated his radio.
“Platoon, we might want to relay this to command. Looks like we just participated in one hell of a publicity stunt.”
—
“Director Hoover? We’ve got a Colonel Jasper here to talk to you. It seems important.”
“Send him in.” the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency spoke into the phone. The door to his office creaked open and a hulking soldier entered, in his old dress blues, his chest festooned with medals of all kinds. He had an imperious, authoritative air about him, but it was not something the head of the most feared intelligence organization in the world would let sway him.
“Director Hoover.” Colonel Jasper saluted.
“Colonel, you mind telling us precisely what your underling was doing gassing a number of civilians on Omen? You’re lucky we found you before the Hague did.”
“The perpetrator undertook this action on his own and with no intervention from us, even if we were mentioned. We don’t control what people do in their downtime.” Jasper shrugged.
“Well, you should, if they’re going to do this. We’ve been trying to establish good relations with the populace and your little maverick’s just set us back severely. You had better hope he acted alone, or your group’s going on the list we use for terrorists. And you don’t want to be on that list, no matter how tough you think you are.”
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, it won’t work.” Jasper said, narrowing his eyes and leaning over the desk. “I’ve fought in the Anathema Encounter, what makes you think I’ll–”
“You will not mention that incident!” the Director shouted, slamming his palms on the desk and standing up. Supposedly, Director Hoover was one of the foremost “agents of regime correction” in the service before his appointment, and Jasper could see the killer in him as he postured himself almost predatorily. Then, he collected himself and spoke with measured calm.
“It’s bad enough that you know about Anathema. Do what you must, if you believe that you can rally the people to your cause. But the moment we find any evidence that you ordered this, you’re going away for a long time. And if you so much as say a word about Anathema to anyone, you’ll be in a blacksite before the week’s out. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
Jasper sighed. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now leave. Next time, I’m not going to be nice.”
—
Hell on Earth wasn’t a really accurate way to describe war. War was a lot worse. In Hell, things were uniformly terrible, and no one was there without cause. In war, things got better just long enough to leave one complacent when they got worse, and it was filled with people caught inside by plain bad luck.
These notions were unknown to the United States Air Force. From so high up and so far away, war was impersonal. You didn’t have to look the man you shot in the eye. No scream of terror, no keening of anguish could carry twenty kilometers into the air, after all.
The bomber squadron was near-serene as it shot over the landscape of Omen. The only sound was the consistent whine of jet engines and the occasional peal of thunder from storms that appeared on the horizon in a flash and vanished as quickly as they came. The blackness of space was readily visible above.
The remainders of the Poslushi garrison had long since seen the settlements of the planet as a lost cause, retiring to the hamlets of the forests to continue the fight. It was a shame; many of the airmen had been looking forward to a tropical paradise to vacation in.
The pilot of the B-60 in the lead turned to the weapons systems officer. “Get ready to drop the payload.” the WSO nodded, tapping a set of buttons on his control console. In the bomb bay, the electric fuses of the dozen bombs activated simultaneously. All the while, the bomber shrieked towards its target at Mach 6.
Three hundred kilometers out, the squadron dispersed, each bomber flying to its own target. There was no longer any worry of enemy interception to be had; the brave pilots of the Bunker Hill had all but annihilated the already small air forces of the garrison.
A minute later, they were within two hundred kilometers. Hypersonic aircraft were, true to their name, rather fast.
“Drop our speed and pop open the bomb bay.” the navigator ordered. Rapidly, the aircraft descended to Mach 3, the great doors in the plane’s belly sliding open. If they opened the bay doors while at cruising speed, the immense change in air resistance could tear the bomber apart. Still, it was moving fast, far too quick for the manually-aimed Poslushi air defenses to track.
“Three… two… drop.” the pilot counted. Nodding, the WSO pressed a button and the payload began falling from the plane at regular intervals. One bomb every two seconds, a dozen bombs total, leaving a trail of falling bombs twenty-four kilometers long. The payload plummeted towards the ground for a few short seconds, and then the tiny explosive charges in the casings detonated, blowing the bombs apart and leaving in their place a whirlwind of swirling, falling papers. Written in the language of the Ovinis, they were a warning, telling any civilians in the area to vacate immediately before the worst happened.
It was no empty threat. Twenty-four hours later, they would repeat this route with a far different payload. The Poslushi would also do well to heed their words, because this time they would be carrying napalm bombs, and a lot more than twelve of them.
War was not hell. It was far worse. However, mankind knew how to make war seem like hell, more literally than not in some cases.
(AN: Forgot to celebrate #10, so let's celebrate #20! Woo! Anyways, I don't exactly like war, as you can see. However, it makes exploring the consequences of a fictional war quite interesting. Just wait until things really start to escalate!
Love 'ya!)
2023.03.25 03:22 iii11qq Hot BBW Dressed Up For Valentines Day Gets Her Pussy & Mouth Used Outdoors Getting Pussy To Mouth Creampie
 | submitted by iii11qq to Electrbc [link] [comments] |
2023.03.25 03:22 Clean-Ad8560 How I Raised My SAT Score (1230-->1520)
Hi everyone, I raised my SAT score from a 1230 (practice test 10) in July 2022 to a 1520 in the March 2023 SAT. (8 months: 290 point increase)
For context I got an 1140 in my PSAT10 (October 2021) and a 1390 on my PSAT11 (October 2022)
I hope this helps people who think they can't increase their score, or need some inspo on how to study.
STEPS
submitted by Clean-Ad8560 to Sat [link] [comments]
For context I got an 1140 in my PSAT10 (October 2021) and a 1390 on my PSAT11 (October 2022)
I hope this helps people who think they can't increase their score, or need some inspo on how to study.
STEPS
- Take a practice SAT, preferably on paper or one of the ones provided by Khan Academy.
- I used this to see where I was. My score was a 1230 (700 EBRW, 520 Math). As you can tell my reading and writing was decent but my math really needed help. From examining the questions I missed I realised it wasn't a skill issue but more of a lack of content issue.
- Start prep. If your score is in the 1200s like me, you lack content knowledge. Instead of focusing on areas I 'missed', I relearnt everything.
- I purchased the College Panda math book and read it from start to finish (about 3 chapters a day during the summer), doing all the practice questions in it as well as the corresponding questions on Khan Academy.
- While I did this I did not neglect my reading and writing and did a passage from each on Khan Academy each day.
- I also found this amazing youtube channel called Unique Prep, where he basically goes over every single math topic on the SAT. He also does grammar but I didn't need it. I watched a few videos every day and did the corresponding questions on Khan Academy.
- Once I finished Unique Prep and College Panda, my math score went into the high 600s/low 700s. I had learnt the concepts- I just needed more practice. After I learnt the content was when I decided to start taking practice SATs every Saturday.
- I took practice SATs every Saturday and I would review the answers on Sunday and take note of what I missed. I highly recommend Scalar Learning on Youtube for math review on past papers. I took the QAS that were on Reddit.
- My score steadily increased with basically each practice test I took, but I decided to max out my reading score and I purchased the Erica Meltzer book. I tried out her technique on reading and it helped me increase my score further. As for grammar, I have always been a reader so I never really learnt it or needed improvement, sadly, but I would say study the grammar rules.
- My score didn't enter the high 1400s until I purchased Uworld. Uworld was a lifesaver and I couldn't be more grateful for it. I did 20 math questions a day, 1 reading passage and 1 writing passage a day as well. On Fridays, for math, I would redo the questions I got wrong over the week.
- Get a printable calendar, and fill in/organise what you want to study each day leading up till your test. I think this helped me stay motivated and made me feel like I was on a predetermined track.
- Find what works for you. I played around a lot with techniques and resources and ultimately settled on Uworld and QAS after learning all the content to max out my score. Obviously my score isn't perfect but it's great for me, and I think these tips can help.
- I practiced for the SAT every day with isolated questions (Mon-Fri), a full practice test (Sat) and review (Sun). Honestly, I did not take any breaks, which can be detrimental, but I found studying for the SAT became kind of interesting when I did not make it a chore. The reading passages lowkey became intriguing and the math was like a puzzle.
- I created a spreadsheet with the 25th percentiles and 75th percentiles of all my reach schools. I averaged the scores in each category to find my goal(average 75th percentile) and my minimum score (average 25th percentile).
- I was never hard on my self but discipline is key.
2023.03.25 03:20 AutoModerator [Get] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree Full Course Download
![[Get] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree Full Course Download](https://b.thumbs.redditmedia.com/4qevSf0xxID_IZtLVGuPvElLwqQDF1Ez50ZfrGwjoJg.jpg "[Get] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree Full Course Download") | Get the course here: https://www.genkicourses.com/product/dan-koe-digital-economics-masters-degree/ Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree submitted by AutoModerator to Affordable_Courses [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/e5bm5i19z5pa1.jpg?width=1920&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b38f3d722558909f9bfa22127af1347efd52b4ef What You Get Phase 0) Digital Economics 101 The Digital Economics 101 module will open 1 week prior to the cohort start date.This is an onboarding module that will get you up to speed so we can get straight into the material.This will be required to finish before the start date.
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2023.03.25 03:19 JohnnyOTJ Grandpa was captured in 1st days of the BOTB. Imprisoned at Stalag IX-B.
 | submitted by JohnnyOTJ to pics [link] [comments] |
2023.03.25 03:17 KillerOrangeCat Three New Creepy True Stories 3 24 2023
Three New Creepy True Stories
Number One: Motel
This happened to me and my girlfriend when we were travelling across country. We had to stay in various motels because all though she was okay with sleeping in our car, I was never able to do that. She could fall asleep with her head on the window at the drop of a hat, but I would be up all night trying my best to fall asleep.
We didn’t make reservations or anything like that. We just drove until we got tired and began looking for a motel with a vacancy.
Maybe on the third night of our trip, we had a pretty creepy experience with a motel that we found. I could tell driving into it that I wasn’t going to like it too much. We were in a pretty rural area and it looked pretty run down. But I was exhausted and needed to get some sleep, so we decided to spend the night there.
We got into our room and began getting ready to get some sleep. Suddenly, the phone began ringing. Figuring that it was the office I picked it up and answered it.
“You’re wife’s cute,” the voice on the other end told me. “I can’t wait until I am sleeping in bed with her.”
I wanted to say something back, but whomever was on the other end hung up immediately.
My girlfriend asked me what happened and I explained it to her. Maybe I shouldn’t have, because it frightened her. But if we were to get another call, I thought she should probably be prepared now. Not that I was expecting anyone to call back.
But about 10 minutes later, the phone rang again. I decided to answer it, thinking that it was likely the caller from before. And I was right.
“Time’s running out,” the voice told me. “Soon I will be in bed with your wife.” Then he immediately hung up.
We were very freaked out by that point. Gathering our stuff up, we decided to go check with the office.
We told them about the calls, but it was obvious it wasn’t coming from him. I had considered it, because he was the only one who should have known that we were in that room. But the voice wasn’t even close to sounding like the other. We asked if he had any idea what was going on and he said he had no idea.
We asked him if we could change rooms. We figured that maybe someone just knew the number to that room and was giving us a hard time or something. So he put us into another room on the other side of the motel.
We went to the room. At this point, I was very tired. I knew that it wouldn’t take long for me to fall asleep. However, I didn’t get a chance to.
We had only been in the room a few minutes before the phone began ringing again. My girlfriend and I both immediately got tense. I decided to answer the phone.
“Changing rooms won’t change the fact that I will be sleeping with your wife,” the voice on the other side of the phone said to me. Then, like all of the previous times, the phone hung up.
My girlfriend immediately knew what had happened. We talked about what we were going to do. I was exhausted, but now we were both on edge. We had no idea if this was a prank or if someone was actually going to do something. But we also knew that at that point, there was no way that we could get any sleep. Someone obviously knew the phone numbers in the rooms and was also watching us. That is the only way they could have known that we had switched rooms.
We decided that we needed to just check out and get back on the road. We would find another motel.
We gathered our things again and then left the room. We both felt very conspicuous, walking outside of the room. We felt eyes on us, that whoever had called us was now watching us. So we decided to put our stuff in the car before going in and telling the clerk that we were going to check out.
When we got to the car, however, we were stunned to see that all four of our tires had been slashed. So we just got more scared and immediately went to the clerk and asked him to call the police.
We could have brushed off the phone calls as being a prank, even with the switching of rooms. But seeing the tires cut made it so much more real. It really made us believe that someone had been watching us and was intent on hurting us.
Unfortunately, the police couldn’t do very much. There were a lot of guests in the motel and they couldn’t wake everyone up and question them. The most they could do was look around a little bit and make a report. Our car was taken to a mechanic and we rode along with the police to there.
It was a really long time before everything was taken care of. I was a very long time before I was able to get a good night’s sleep.
Number Two: Night Ride
This happened to me when I was 13 years old, but I still remember it as clearly as if it happened today. I had some uncles who were pretty close to me in terms of age. And a lot of times in the summer, if I went over to my grandma’s house, we would go for rides in the back of a pickup truck. I especially loved doing this at night because it was very, very creepy to do. And back in those days, I was looking for anything that could creep me out to entertain me.
This was a bit of an impromptu visit in mid summer. It was really hot outside, as I remember. This was back in the day when we had glass bottles of soda, not plastic ones. And I recall this mostly because we were stocked up on bottles of Mountain Dew.
My two uncles decided at night that they wanted to go for a drive through the hills. My brother and my cousin were with us and they wanted to do it too. So we loaded up in the pick up truck at night time. My uncles and my older brother were all in the cab. My cousin and I were in the bed of the truck.
I enjoyed those rides a whole lot and as I recall they were always a bit scary. There were no lights on those country roads, so when it go dark, it really got dark. The only light that we had was from the headlights of the truck. And being in the bed of the truck, that didn’t do us a whole lot of good.
My cousin and I were having fun. We liked being scared and we liked scaring each other. But on some level, the two of us were also expecting the older boys to try and do something to scare us. So we kept waiting for a possible scare to be on the way. But that was more in the back of our mind.
I really wish that I could describe to you what it was like to be riding in the bed of the car like we were in the dark. It’s the sort of thing that I miss in the world of today. Everywhere we go, there are lights everywhere. It is really hard to get scared like it used to be. The darkness was so encompassing that it nearly felt like we were isolated. Another thing I can think of is that it felt like were driving through a tunnel made of trees and such.
My cousin and I were doing our thing. We were talking about things that we thought might scare each other.
These were old dirt roads, so my uncle was not driving the truck really fast. There were tons of twists and turns, especially the higher up you got into the hills. And that is sort of important for what eventually happened.
The truck slowed down a little bit as it was about to go around a turn. We weren’t going very fast to begin with, but the turn was pretty sharp and we grabbed the sides of the truck to brace ourselves as we made the turn.
I was very familiar with this sharp turn. My uncles had tried to scare us one time by telling us that cars have had accidents right on that turn. In fact, they said that some people have died going around the bend. I was sure that it was their way of trying to scare us by making us think that we could die by going around the bend.
My back was facing the inside of the road, with my hands bracing me on both sides. And that was when it happened. I felt something on my left wrist. I turned and looked at my arm, and was stunned by what it looked like I saw. For a very brief moment, it looked like a human hand was grabbing my wrist.
So, I pulled my arm away. But as I mentioned, it was only for a brief moment and I easily pulled my arm away and the truck was around the corner. However, I quickly moved to the opposite side of the truck, where my cousin was sitting.
He was confused but I explained to him what I had seen. I don’t think he really believed me at first. But he knocked on the window and told my uncles to stop the truck. They did this and we told them what had just happened.
We took a flashlight and walked back over to the sharp turn. My uncle also took a rifle out that was kept behind the seat in the cab. But when we went back, we were unable to find anyone or anything. There was definitely no one anywhere near us.
My uncle then tried to scare us a little bit by suggesting it was the hand of someone who had died while making the turn. And of course, my cousin and I believed them. We got back in the truck and they took off again.
Riding in the bed of that truck was so terrifying. Both my cousin and I wanted to be in the cab, but there wouldn’t be room for us. Whatever I had seen and the story my uncles told us, well combined that scared the crap out of us. We were all too eager to get home.
I really have no idea what we saw that night, but it was the scariest moment of my life.
Number Three: Train Guy
Right on the outside of town, there is an old railroad track. At this time, I had lived in this town for about ten years. I could count on my hands how many times I have actually seen a train moving on it. However, right after a bridge, there is another off track. I am not really sure what you call it, but there are often train cars parked there for a really long period of time.
The area around the tracks is heavily wooded. There is a road the goes through it and up a hill. There are a few houses up on the hill, but very spread apart. But I often take that road because it’s a short cut to get back home because it leads through a field. That is how I knew about the train cars that are often parked there.
I was walking there with a friend one day and he decided that he wanted to take some pictures of the train cars. He was designing some sort of game and felt that he needed pictures to model off of. I can’t really explain that part, but I guess it’s just important that we needed to get pictures of it.
After taking pictures of some of the back cars, he wanted to walk to the ones in front. We had been taking pictures for a good 15 minutes at that point. However, when we started walking forward we noticed something. Someone walked out from between two of the cars. And then he started walking in our direction.
I can’t completely explain why, but seeing the guy made us both feel very uncomfortable. There were rarely any people back in that area. So I asked him if we should maybe just go. For some reason, the appearance of the guy, who was a bit far from us, was making him feel uneasy too. So we decided to just leave and to come back at a later time.
About a week later, he and I went on another walk. We decided to take the back road again. He wanted to take some more pictures. The same train was there, but that was not a surprise. They would sit there for months at a time. So we were going to try and go to the front of the train again and take those pictures of the front cars that we didn’t get to do last time.
However, as we began walking in that direction, it happened again. A guy came out from between two of the cars, which could have been the exact ones from the first time. And once again, there was something very creepy about the whole thing. So my friend and I once again decided to leave.
We talked about it for a while and came to a conclusion. There were some homeless people in our town. So we figured that for some reason, he must have been living in between two of the cars. Perhaps he didn’t want anyone snooping around in his area. So we decided that maybe we would just skip trying to get those pictures.
We kept away from the train area for quite a while. But my friend is really stubborn and he really wanted to get pictures of that train. So after a short period of time, we decided to go back to the train.
My friend was taking pictures and was going further down the track than we had before. Since the man didn’t come out, we figured that he was not around. So my friend started going between the cars to get all of the pictures that he needed.
It happened so quick that it took me by total surprise. The man pounced out from behind one of the cars, yelling all sorts of gibberish. And he was holding what looked like a pocket knife in his hand. And he began running straight toward my buddy.
My friend was closer to the guy than I was, and he fell over in surprise. The crazy man easily got to him and held him down. My friend was struggling to get up.
I hate to admit, I almost ran in fear. But I knew I had to help my friend. So I ran over there and tried my best to pull the crazy man off him. The man was a lot stronger than I would have thought, but with both mine and my buddy’s strength, we were able to pull him off. The guy stumbled backward and fell down.
I tried my best to pull my friend up. By the time we got him to his feet, the crazy guy was up too. And this was the first time I got a look at him. His eyes were chilling to me. I mean they made Norman Bates look normal. He also had what looked like blood on his face. IT was only then that I realized that he had actually bitten my friend.
It was too much and the two of us just took off running. He followed us, but fortunately only as far as the end of the train. We were able to get out of there safely from that point.
My friend had to go to the hospital. The police went and arrested the man who attacked us. They found tons of dead animals in the area where he was hiding. It looked like he had tried eating some of them.
He went to jail for the attack. It was three years for aggravated assault. But the two of us are stuck with the memory.
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Number One: Motel
This happened to me and my girlfriend when we were travelling across country. We had to stay in various motels because all though she was okay with sleeping in our car, I was never able to do that. She could fall asleep with her head on the window at the drop of a hat, but I would be up all night trying my best to fall asleep.
We didn’t make reservations or anything like that. We just drove until we got tired and began looking for a motel with a vacancy.
Maybe on the third night of our trip, we had a pretty creepy experience with a motel that we found. I could tell driving into it that I wasn’t going to like it too much. We were in a pretty rural area and it looked pretty run down. But I was exhausted and needed to get some sleep, so we decided to spend the night there.
We got into our room and began getting ready to get some sleep. Suddenly, the phone began ringing. Figuring that it was the office I picked it up and answered it.
“You’re wife’s cute,” the voice on the other end told me. “I can’t wait until I am sleeping in bed with her.”
I wanted to say something back, but whomever was on the other end hung up immediately.
My girlfriend asked me what happened and I explained it to her. Maybe I shouldn’t have, because it frightened her. But if we were to get another call, I thought she should probably be prepared now. Not that I was expecting anyone to call back.
But about 10 minutes later, the phone rang again. I decided to answer it, thinking that it was likely the caller from before. And I was right.
“Time’s running out,” the voice told me. “Soon I will be in bed with your wife.” Then he immediately hung up.
We were very freaked out by that point. Gathering our stuff up, we decided to go check with the office.
We told them about the calls, but it was obvious it wasn’t coming from him. I had considered it, because he was the only one who should have known that we were in that room. But the voice wasn’t even close to sounding like the other. We asked if he had any idea what was going on and he said he had no idea.
We asked him if we could change rooms. We figured that maybe someone just knew the number to that room and was giving us a hard time or something. So he put us into another room on the other side of the motel.
We went to the room. At this point, I was very tired. I knew that it wouldn’t take long for me to fall asleep. However, I didn’t get a chance to.
We had only been in the room a few minutes before the phone began ringing again. My girlfriend and I both immediately got tense. I decided to answer the phone.
“Changing rooms won’t change the fact that I will be sleeping with your wife,” the voice on the other side of the phone said to me. Then, like all of the previous times, the phone hung up.
My girlfriend immediately knew what had happened. We talked about what we were going to do. I was exhausted, but now we were both on edge. We had no idea if this was a prank or if someone was actually going to do something. But we also knew that at that point, there was no way that we could get any sleep. Someone obviously knew the phone numbers in the rooms and was also watching us. That is the only way they could have known that we had switched rooms.
We decided that we needed to just check out and get back on the road. We would find another motel.
We gathered our things again and then left the room. We both felt very conspicuous, walking outside of the room. We felt eyes on us, that whoever had called us was now watching us. So we decided to put our stuff in the car before going in and telling the clerk that we were going to check out.
When we got to the car, however, we were stunned to see that all four of our tires had been slashed. So we just got more scared and immediately went to the clerk and asked him to call the police.
We could have brushed off the phone calls as being a prank, even with the switching of rooms. But seeing the tires cut made it so much more real. It really made us believe that someone had been watching us and was intent on hurting us.
Unfortunately, the police couldn’t do very much. There were a lot of guests in the motel and they couldn’t wake everyone up and question them. The most they could do was look around a little bit and make a report. Our car was taken to a mechanic and we rode along with the police to there.
It was a really long time before everything was taken care of. I was a very long time before I was able to get a good night’s sleep.
Number Two: Night Ride
This happened to me when I was 13 years old, but I still remember it as clearly as if it happened today. I had some uncles who were pretty close to me in terms of age. And a lot of times in the summer, if I went over to my grandma’s house, we would go for rides in the back of a pickup truck. I especially loved doing this at night because it was very, very creepy to do. And back in those days, I was looking for anything that could creep me out to entertain me.
This was a bit of an impromptu visit in mid summer. It was really hot outside, as I remember. This was back in the day when we had glass bottles of soda, not plastic ones. And I recall this mostly because we were stocked up on bottles of Mountain Dew.
My two uncles decided at night that they wanted to go for a drive through the hills. My brother and my cousin were with us and they wanted to do it too. So we loaded up in the pick up truck at night time. My uncles and my older brother were all in the cab. My cousin and I were in the bed of the truck.
I enjoyed those rides a whole lot and as I recall they were always a bit scary. There were no lights on those country roads, so when it go dark, it really got dark. The only light that we had was from the headlights of the truck. And being in the bed of the truck, that didn’t do us a whole lot of good.
My cousin and I were having fun. We liked being scared and we liked scaring each other. But on some level, the two of us were also expecting the older boys to try and do something to scare us. So we kept waiting for a possible scare to be on the way. But that was more in the back of our mind.
I really wish that I could describe to you what it was like to be riding in the bed of the car like we were in the dark. It’s the sort of thing that I miss in the world of today. Everywhere we go, there are lights everywhere. It is really hard to get scared like it used to be. The darkness was so encompassing that it nearly felt like we were isolated. Another thing I can think of is that it felt like were driving through a tunnel made of trees and such.
My cousin and I were doing our thing. We were talking about things that we thought might scare each other.
These were old dirt roads, so my uncle was not driving the truck really fast. There were tons of twists and turns, especially the higher up you got into the hills. And that is sort of important for what eventually happened.
The truck slowed down a little bit as it was about to go around a turn. We weren’t going very fast to begin with, but the turn was pretty sharp and we grabbed the sides of the truck to brace ourselves as we made the turn.
I was very familiar with this sharp turn. My uncles had tried to scare us one time by telling us that cars have had accidents right on that turn. In fact, they said that some people have died going around the bend. I was sure that it was their way of trying to scare us by making us think that we could die by going around the bend.
My back was facing the inside of the road, with my hands bracing me on both sides. And that was when it happened. I felt something on my left wrist. I turned and looked at my arm, and was stunned by what it looked like I saw. For a very brief moment, it looked like a human hand was grabbing my wrist.
So, I pulled my arm away. But as I mentioned, it was only for a brief moment and I easily pulled my arm away and the truck was around the corner. However, I quickly moved to the opposite side of the truck, where my cousin was sitting.
He was confused but I explained to him what I had seen. I don’t think he really believed me at first. But he knocked on the window and told my uncles to stop the truck. They did this and we told them what had just happened.
We took a flashlight and walked back over to the sharp turn. My uncle also took a rifle out that was kept behind the seat in the cab. But when we went back, we were unable to find anyone or anything. There was definitely no one anywhere near us.
My uncle then tried to scare us a little bit by suggesting it was the hand of someone who had died while making the turn. And of course, my cousin and I believed them. We got back in the truck and they took off again.
Riding in the bed of that truck was so terrifying. Both my cousin and I wanted to be in the cab, but there wouldn’t be room for us. Whatever I had seen and the story my uncles told us, well combined that scared the crap out of us. We were all too eager to get home.
I really have no idea what we saw that night, but it was the scariest moment of my life.
Number Three: Train Guy
Right on the outside of town, there is an old railroad track. At this time, I had lived in this town for about ten years. I could count on my hands how many times I have actually seen a train moving on it. However, right after a bridge, there is another off track. I am not really sure what you call it, but there are often train cars parked there for a really long period of time.
The area around the tracks is heavily wooded. There is a road the goes through it and up a hill. There are a few houses up on the hill, but very spread apart. But I often take that road because it’s a short cut to get back home because it leads through a field. That is how I knew about the train cars that are often parked there.
I was walking there with a friend one day and he decided that he wanted to take some pictures of the train cars. He was designing some sort of game and felt that he needed pictures to model off of. I can’t really explain that part, but I guess it’s just important that we needed to get pictures of it.
After taking pictures of some of the back cars, he wanted to walk to the ones in front. We had been taking pictures for a good 15 minutes at that point. However, when we started walking forward we noticed something. Someone walked out from between two of the cars. And then he started walking in our direction.
I can’t completely explain why, but seeing the guy made us both feel very uncomfortable. There were rarely any people back in that area. So I asked him if we should maybe just go. For some reason, the appearance of the guy, who was a bit far from us, was making him feel uneasy too. So we decided to just leave and to come back at a later time.
About a week later, he and I went on another walk. We decided to take the back road again. He wanted to take some more pictures. The same train was there, but that was not a surprise. They would sit there for months at a time. So we were going to try and go to the front of the train again and take those pictures of the front cars that we didn’t get to do last time.
However, as we began walking in that direction, it happened again. A guy came out from between two of the cars, which could have been the exact ones from the first time. And once again, there was something very creepy about the whole thing. So my friend and I once again decided to leave.
We talked about it for a while and came to a conclusion. There were some homeless people in our town. So we figured that for some reason, he must have been living in between two of the cars. Perhaps he didn’t want anyone snooping around in his area. So we decided that maybe we would just skip trying to get those pictures.
We kept away from the train area for quite a while. But my friend is really stubborn and he really wanted to get pictures of that train. So after a short period of time, we decided to go back to the train.
My friend was taking pictures and was going further down the track than we had before. Since the man didn’t come out, we figured that he was not around. So my friend started going between the cars to get all of the pictures that he needed.
It happened so quick that it took me by total surprise. The man pounced out from behind one of the cars, yelling all sorts of gibberish. And he was holding what looked like a pocket knife in his hand. And he began running straight toward my buddy.
My friend was closer to the guy than I was, and he fell over in surprise. The crazy man easily got to him and held him down. My friend was struggling to get up.
I hate to admit, I almost ran in fear. But I knew I had to help my friend. So I ran over there and tried my best to pull the crazy man off him. The man was a lot stronger than I would have thought, but with both mine and my buddy’s strength, we were able to pull him off. The guy stumbled backward and fell down.
I tried my best to pull my friend up. By the time we got him to his feet, the crazy guy was up too. And this was the first time I got a look at him. His eyes were chilling to me. I mean they made Norman Bates look normal. He also had what looked like blood on his face. IT was only then that I realized that he had actually bitten my friend.
It was too much and the two of us just took off running. He followed us, but fortunately only as far as the end of the train. We were able to get out of there safely from that point.
My friend had to go to the hospital. The police went and arrested the man who attacked us. They found tons of dead animals in the area where he was hiding. It looked like he had tried eating some of them.
He went to jail for the attack. It was three years for aggravated assault. But the two of us are stuck with the memory.
2023.03.25 03:17 catobsession56 Coughing up hard snot blobs
Age: 18 Sex: Female Height: 160cm Weight 45kg Medication: 25mg Atarax, daily. 10Mg Melatonin, every day.
For the past couple of years (2), ive been feeling the back of my throat starts getting “sore”. When I clear my throat, a hard blob of snot falls down in the back of my throat. It has a gooey layer of snot ontop of it. I sometimes just swallow them, but sometimes theyre so gooey and disgusting I have to cough them up into a napkin. They stink, like old sewer. This is very annoying especiallywhen it happens in public. Ive done such as gargling salt water, gargling hot water but nothing works.
I have googled about this but not found something matching my problem. I dont get side effects with this, only a sore throat before coughing it up. I haven’t been to a doctor because I’ve thought nothing of it til it started happening 2 times per week. (Previously, maybe 2 times a month.)
What even is this and can I prevent it?
Picture: https://imgur.com/a/uzADo5R
submitted by catobsession56 to AskDocs [link] [comments]
For the past couple of years (2), ive been feeling the back of my throat starts getting “sore”. When I clear my throat, a hard blob of snot falls down in the back of my throat. It has a gooey layer of snot ontop of it. I sometimes just swallow them, but sometimes theyre so gooey and disgusting I have to cough them up into a napkin. They stink, like old sewer. This is very annoying especiallywhen it happens in public. Ive done such as gargling salt water, gargling hot water but nothing works.
I have googled about this but not found something matching my problem. I dont get side effects with this, only a sore throat before coughing it up. I haven’t been to a doctor because I’ve thought nothing of it til it started happening 2 times per week. (Previously, maybe 2 times a month.)
What even is this and can I prevent it?
Picture: https://imgur.com/a/uzADo5R
2023.03.25 03:17 Alex13445678 Do not buy this charger https://www.amazon.com/Hiyiton-Battery-Balance-Discharger-Batteries/dp/B09GVR44DP/ref=mp_s_a_1_3?crid=JVAOB3NC1F2U&keywords=hiyiton+lipo+battery+charger&qid=1679710115&sprefix=hiyiton%2Caps%2C76&sr=8-3
So a buddy of myne got into fpv recently and chose this charger. Before he bought it I warned him that you should not cheap out on chargers but he insisted as it was cheap and on Amazon and boasted some ok specs like 150 ac whereas others were lower at like 36watts ac. We flew today and as I was going to bed we were talking and he told me to unplug his charger. No problem I thought as I go downstairs to unplug it and I see the battery charging. I notice that it was very puffed and hot so I unplugged it and told him idk what setting he used but it must not be good. He said he charged it at 2 amps which for a 1500mah 4s is ok but for safety as he insisted on using it later I checked the voltage. I plugged it into my charger to see overvolt and I try again and see the same thing (it was a 4s charger and battery) then I plug it into the input as it accepts up to 6s input and it reads 19.5 volts on 4s !?! That’s 4.875 volts per cell. I immediately chuck it in my lipo bag (I first took the other batts out ofc) and put it in the driveway that’s concrete. The balances were connected and the charger was set to 4s. Regardless if they weren’t it should have detected this and gave an error or atleast warning but it just kept charging to a dangerous level. Worst part it had not stopped. It was still going?!? It’s crazy to think that in a couple of more min our house could have been burnt. So please don’t cheap out and especially don’t buy this charger or rebrands of it as there are many on Amazon under a diffrent name. Have a good day and check on ur batteries.
submitted by Alex13445678 to fpv [link] [comments]
2023.03.25 03:16 Demon_Deity Marred Migration - Chapter 11
First/Previous/Next
Memory Transcription Subject: Chief Kafny of Tribe Baylrn, Sivkit Grand Herd.
The thumping in my chest felt like it could break my ribs open as I crawled across the floor, backing myself into a corner when I hit the wall. There was nowhere to go, the windows are far to small to escape through and the demonic offspring stood in the way of my only exit.
I was trapped, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway as terror gripped my body and paralysing fear fixing me on the spot. All I could do was just stare at the menacing figure looming in the shadows. My body shivering at the sight of those glowing yellow eyes, darting side to side studying my form.
It feels impossible, but despite their constant presence in this horrible place, somehow I managed to lull myself into letting my guard down. This sudden ambush is the price I pay. The grown beasts almost made themselves look docile, but these cubs never showed a sign of restraint amongst themselves, what hope is there for prey?
Some primal part of my brain forced my arms to cling with desperation around the jar, jealously guarding the only source of food I’ve seen for days. But this only served to further pin me to the ground as the small demon made slow calculated steps in my pursuit.
It’s tail whipped around aggressively and the head twisted side to side, sizing me up from every angle. Those slit pupils turned to massive black orbs, consuming any colour in it’s eyes and leaving only dark soulless voids.
I couldn’t bare to look at it’s horrific face, my head burying itself against my arm while tears soaked through my fur. Even to save my life I couldn’t look up. Breaking eye contact with the predator meant I was showing vulnerability. The demon’s instincts compelling it to strike with murderous intent.
Not a moment later it pounced, landing directly on my stomach.
Through the force of the impact all the air escaped my lungs, forcing a pathetic whimper as the beast now immobilized me completely. My arms were still locked around the jar but my legs were free. Summoning the last ounces of strength left it my body they struck out in my last stand.
Franticly kicking at the beast as tears and snot leaked of my face. But no matter how desperate the effort my weak paws never made connect with it’s form as the beast just sat on top, pinning me down and waiting for the futile effort to end as I tire myself out.
It didn’t take long for my nutrient deprived muscles to fail under the stress. I wanted to keep going, to fight for my life just a little bit longer. But no more could effort would will my legs to move, it’s... it’s all over.
The kicking stopped and all went quite.
The only noise coming from my sporadic quivered panting as my body meekly shivered under the demon’s weight. It’s paw stretch out slowly towards my head as I braced myself for it’s claws to grip my neck.
Eyes closing on their own in resignation to my fate.
When all went dark two familiar faces appeared in my mind. An old memory of the day I was sworn in as Chief. I was consumed by terror on that day, almost causing me to collapse on stage. But Jallif and Dayfrin stood by my side, their faces plastered with nothing but pride and joy respectively.
They were always there when I needed them and after we survived the Greys those two were the only real family I had left.
My fear became secondary to regret as I remembered my last words towards Dayfrin. Things now I’ll never be able to take back. Heartache forced my eyes shut tighter, creating a steady stream of tear with the realization I will never be able to say sorry.
It wasn’t lost on me that if I had only listened, none of this would have ever happened. With the appearance of Humanity we at least had the strength of numbers. These demons were a complete unknown.
The dizzying swirl of emotions pain made me realize something. The killing blow never happened. Confusion distracting me enough to never notice the sensation of a fuzzy finger running across my cheeks, wiping away the tears.
“Why are you crying?” A creepy whining voice spoke from the predator’s direction. My brain couldn’t grasp at what is happening right now, why isn’t it eating me?
After a few quivering breaths I managed to open my eyes just slightly, enough to see the monster sitting still without any sudden movements. The tail still swiping side to side but it’s head was tilted with ears pinned back.
The predator was still staring into my soul though missing the snarling teeth I was expecting, it’s gaze broke away a moment later and slit pupils shifted towards the jar, my arms tightened instinctively to protect my prize.
“Why were you trying to open this?” The small beast grabbed the jar with intent to snatch it away. My paws held on for dear life but my weak arms offered no resistance to the monstrous strength of a predator.
I mourned my last chance of quenching hunger before hearing a pop. A familiar smells flooded the room, infecting my starving mind. The muddy vegetables offered no aroma of herbs or any additives but the sour smells worked like a spell over my brain regardless.
Nostalgic memories flooded over me, ones I have almost forgotten when they became to painful to remember. Old memories of my mother teaching me ancient ways of prepare food.
The smell was too much to bare and starvation compelled my body to dive for the food like an animal concern for nothing but ridding myself of the pain. A creature is often most vulnerable when eating, but all I could do was occasionally glance back at the little monster.
The smell seemingly had the opposite effect on the predator. It’s face contorted and ears pinned back as the monster masked it’s nose.
“Argh nasty! Why are you eating the animal feed... are you like the cattle?”
“I-I’m not cattle!” My voice tried to shriek but it came out as a quivering whimper at the verge of tears. Spirits, why did I do that?
The predator looked taking aback by my sudden outburst of defiance. It’s eyes widened and ears perked up as it’s head leaned back. The maw hung wide agape, getting ready to finish me off for my insolence.
“You can talk! Kersh said you couldn’t!” The small demon leaped towards me once again, this time landing short of my face. My eyes shut closed as I flinched away anticipating the coming attack. But instead of gutting my throat it’s paws wrapped around my cheeks as it pulled at and inspected my face.
“Are you really from the stars?!” I couldn’t move or even process what is going on. The little monster jammed it’s thumps inside my mouth and pulled my lips all the way back until my cheeks strung.
“Your teeth are so weird and your eyes are really ugly, but your fur is nice!” I couldn’t bare the talk of my fur while those dead pelts still sat on the bed in my line of sight.
Maybe I was emboldened by surviving my first outburst or maybe I have gone completely mad but somehow my body got the strength to stand up and yell back at the demon.
“S-st-Stop!!!”
The cubs eyes widened with what must have been fear and the little beast took several steps back. I was taken aback that the demon actually followed my command. Something wrong inside me compelled unwelcome emotions, guilt over a creature that would never feel them for me.
How broken can I be falling for a predator pretending to be hurt? The little beast sat down and crossed it’s legs while putting paws on it’s lap. With it’s head down the predator almost looked submissive.
“I-I’m sorry... I just wanted to play with you.” The creature took a bow and sat there for a minute while I processed everything. Play?! Was it daft, did it not know it’s meant to eat me!? Dumbfounded I didn’t know how to reply.
“I-I, I don’t want to play with you in here, get out!” I winced away after realizing my choice of words but kept an open eye for it’s next move.
The beast pinned it’s ears back further and quivered it’s lip. Pity, fucking pity that I couldn’t suppress conflicted with my horror. This wasn’t at all how predators are meant to function... I, I can’t let myself fall for it, it’s lying... It has to be.
The demon’s ears perked back up.
“In here? That’s okay we can play outside!” The beast bounced of the floor peaked out several windows with suspicion.
“Kersh doesn’t know I’m here and everyone else is busy preparing the wool for trade. If you can stay quite I can sneak us out of here!”
Realization dawned on me that this could be my only chance for escape. It was insane and I would be putting myself at risk to the whims of this carnivorous monster, but it won’t be worst then being surrounded by the hundreds of these demons within the village.
At this point I’m willing to gamble with my life. “S-s-sure!... I-I’d love to play outside... H-how do we play?”
The predator cub burst from the ground into the air with eerie energy. All while squinting it’s monstrous eyes at me, strangely blinking and struggling to keep it’s eyes open.
“Hmmm, we can play hide and seek in the woods! You hide in the forest and I’ll hunt you down!”
“Ahh what!? Absolutely not!...Ah, I-I mean... h-how about you hide and I h-h-hunt y-you down!?”
This is my only ticket out of here alive. If it doesn’t work I have no idea how I’m going to get away from this beast once we’re outside. The thought of grabbing a rock and smashing it over it’s skull crossed my mind.
Some part of me felt horrible imagining that type scenario. This is a predator cub, it’s going to grow up into a horrendous flesh eating monster. Why are you feeling bad for it?
The creature gave me a quizzical look before hopping close to me. I tried to lean away but it grabbed my arms and squeezed my paws together “That sounds fun, I’m Khirr... do aliens have names?”
It just stood there, with it’s ear up high and eyes barely open. Did it really not realize it’s suppose to treat me like prey?
“I’m K-Ka-Kafny...”
It’s eyes closed completely and the predator head bowed while still holding my paws. “It’s an honour to meet you Kafny. Come! Kersh would rip me to shreds if she caught me playing in the woods after sunset and it’s almost dark so we godda hurry.”
“W-wait! my arm’s still broken I can’t r-run.”
"I'll carry you common!"
The little demon spared no time hoisting me over it’s shoulders while stumbling over my weight. Physical contact with the predator sent shudders through my skin though I had to suppress such feelings if this had any hope to work.
I took the opportunity to snatch the biggest plant from the jar before the little beast steadied it’s knees. Chewing on the root was the only way to steer my thoughts away from the predator’s treat.
It didn’t surprise me that a sapient predator would kill it’s offspring for disobeying an order, to think this thing would risk it’s life just to play. Though I couldn’t imagine the mother’s wrath if it saw me with it’s cub.
First/Previous/Next
Note: Next chapter is finished and out tomorrow.
submitted by Demon_Deity to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
Memory Transcription Subject: Chief Kafny of Tribe Baylrn, Sivkit Grand Herd.
The thumping in my chest felt like it could break my ribs open as I crawled across the floor, backing myself into a corner when I hit the wall. There was nowhere to go, the windows are far to small to escape through and the demonic offspring stood in the way of my only exit.
I was trapped, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway as terror gripped my body and paralysing fear fixing me on the spot. All I could do was just stare at the menacing figure looming in the shadows. My body shivering at the sight of those glowing yellow eyes, darting side to side studying my form.
It feels impossible, but despite their constant presence in this horrible place, somehow I managed to lull myself into letting my guard down. This sudden ambush is the price I pay. The grown beasts almost made themselves look docile, but these cubs never showed a sign of restraint amongst themselves, what hope is there for prey?
Some primal part of my brain forced my arms to cling with desperation around the jar, jealously guarding the only source of food I’ve seen for days. But this only served to further pin me to the ground as the small demon made slow calculated steps in my pursuit.
It’s tail whipped around aggressively and the head twisted side to side, sizing me up from every angle. Those slit pupils turned to massive black orbs, consuming any colour in it’s eyes and leaving only dark soulless voids.
I couldn’t bare to look at it’s horrific face, my head burying itself against my arm while tears soaked through my fur. Even to save my life I couldn’t look up. Breaking eye contact with the predator meant I was showing vulnerability. The demon’s instincts compelling it to strike with murderous intent.
Not a moment later it pounced, landing directly on my stomach.
Through the force of the impact all the air escaped my lungs, forcing a pathetic whimper as the beast now immobilized me completely. My arms were still locked around the jar but my legs were free. Summoning the last ounces of strength left it my body they struck out in my last stand.
Franticly kicking at the beast as tears and snot leaked of my face. But no matter how desperate the effort my weak paws never made connect with it’s form as the beast just sat on top, pinning me down and waiting for the futile effort to end as I tire myself out.
It didn’t take long for my nutrient deprived muscles to fail under the stress. I wanted to keep going, to fight for my life just a little bit longer. But no more could effort would will my legs to move, it’s... it’s all over.
The kicking stopped and all went quite.
The only noise coming from my sporadic quivered panting as my body meekly shivered under the demon’s weight. It’s paw stretch out slowly towards my head as I braced myself for it’s claws to grip my neck.
Eyes closing on their own in resignation to my fate.
When all went dark two familiar faces appeared in my mind. An old memory of the day I was sworn in as Chief. I was consumed by terror on that day, almost causing me to collapse on stage. But Jallif and Dayfrin stood by my side, their faces plastered with nothing but pride and joy respectively.
They were always there when I needed them and after we survived the Greys those two were the only real family I had left.
My fear became secondary to regret as I remembered my last words towards Dayfrin. Things now I’ll never be able to take back. Heartache forced my eyes shut tighter, creating a steady stream of tear with the realization I will never be able to say sorry.
It wasn’t lost on me that if I had only listened, none of this would have ever happened. With the appearance of Humanity we at least had the strength of numbers. These demons were a complete unknown.
The dizzying swirl of emotions pain made me realize something. The killing blow never happened. Confusion distracting me enough to never notice the sensation of a fuzzy finger running across my cheeks, wiping away the tears.
“Why are you crying?” A creepy whining voice spoke from the predator’s direction. My brain couldn’t grasp at what is happening right now, why isn’t it eating me?
After a few quivering breaths I managed to open my eyes just slightly, enough to see the monster sitting still without any sudden movements. The tail still swiping side to side but it’s head was tilted with ears pinned back.
The predator was still staring into my soul though missing the snarling teeth I was expecting, it’s gaze broke away a moment later and slit pupils shifted towards the jar, my arms tightened instinctively to protect my prize.
“Why were you trying to open this?” The small beast grabbed the jar with intent to snatch it away. My paws held on for dear life but my weak arms offered no resistance to the monstrous strength of a predator.
I mourned my last chance of quenching hunger before hearing a pop. A familiar smells flooded the room, infecting my starving mind. The muddy vegetables offered no aroma of herbs or any additives but the sour smells worked like a spell over my brain regardless.
Nostalgic memories flooded over me, ones I have almost forgotten when they became to painful to remember. Old memories of my mother teaching me ancient ways of prepare food.
The smell was too much to bare and starvation compelled my body to dive for the food like an animal concern for nothing but ridding myself of the pain. A creature is often most vulnerable when eating, but all I could do was occasionally glance back at the little monster.
The smell seemingly had the opposite effect on the predator. It’s face contorted and ears pinned back as the monster masked it’s nose.
“Argh nasty! Why are you eating the animal feed... are you like the cattle?”
“I-I’m not cattle!” My voice tried to shriek but it came out as a quivering whimper at the verge of tears. Spirits, why did I do that?
The predator looked taking aback by my sudden outburst of defiance. It’s eyes widened and ears perked up as it’s head leaned back. The maw hung wide agape, getting ready to finish me off for my insolence.
“You can talk! Kersh said you couldn’t!” The small demon leaped towards me once again, this time landing short of my face. My eyes shut closed as I flinched away anticipating the coming attack. But instead of gutting my throat it’s paws wrapped around my cheeks as it pulled at and inspected my face.
“Are you really from the stars?!” I couldn’t move or even process what is going on. The little monster jammed it’s thumps inside my mouth and pulled my lips all the way back until my cheeks strung.
“Your teeth are so weird and your eyes are really ugly, but your fur is nice!” I couldn’t bare the talk of my fur while those dead pelts still sat on the bed in my line of sight.
Maybe I was emboldened by surviving my first outburst or maybe I have gone completely mad but somehow my body got the strength to stand up and yell back at the demon.
“S-st-Stop!!!”
The cubs eyes widened with what must have been fear and the little beast took several steps back. I was taken aback that the demon actually followed my command. Something wrong inside me compelled unwelcome emotions, guilt over a creature that would never feel them for me.
How broken can I be falling for a predator pretending to be hurt? The little beast sat down and crossed it’s legs while putting paws on it’s lap. With it’s head down the predator almost looked submissive.
“I-I’m sorry... I just wanted to play with you.” The creature took a bow and sat there for a minute while I processed everything. Play?! Was it daft, did it not know it’s meant to eat me!? Dumbfounded I didn’t know how to reply.
“I-I, I don’t want to play with you in here, get out!” I winced away after realizing my choice of words but kept an open eye for it’s next move.
The beast pinned it’s ears back further and quivered it’s lip. Pity, fucking pity that I couldn’t suppress conflicted with my horror. This wasn’t at all how predators are meant to function... I, I can’t let myself fall for it, it’s lying... It has to be.
The demon’s ears perked back up.
“In here? That’s okay we can play outside!” The beast bounced of the floor peaked out several windows with suspicion.
“Kersh doesn’t know I’m here and everyone else is busy preparing the wool for trade. If you can stay quite I can sneak us out of here!”
Realization dawned on me that this could be my only chance for escape. It was insane and I would be putting myself at risk to the whims of this carnivorous monster, but it won’t be worst then being surrounded by the hundreds of these demons within the village.
At this point I’m willing to gamble with my life. “S-s-sure!... I-I’d love to play outside... H-how do we play?”
The predator cub burst from the ground into the air with eerie energy. All while squinting it’s monstrous eyes at me, strangely blinking and struggling to keep it’s eyes open.
“Hmmm, we can play hide and seek in the woods! You hide in the forest and I’ll hunt you down!”
“Ahh what!? Absolutely not!...Ah, I-I mean... h-how about you hide and I h-h-hunt y-you down!?”
This is my only ticket out of here alive. If it doesn’t work I have no idea how I’m going to get away from this beast once we’re outside. The thought of grabbing a rock and smashing it over it’s skull crossed my mind.
Some part of me felt horrible imagining that type scenario. This is a predator cub, it’s going to grow up into a horrendous flesh eating monster. Why are you feeling bad for it?
The creature gave me a quizzical look before hopping close to me. I tried to lean away but it grabbed my arms and squeezed my paws together “That sounds fun, I’m Khirr... do aliens have names?”
It just stood there, with it’s ear up high and eyes barely open. Did it really not realize it’s suppose to treat me like prey?
“I’m K-Ka-Kafny...”
It’s eyes closed completely and the predator head bowed while still holding my paws. “It’s an honour to meet you Kafny. Come! Kersh would rip me to shreds if she caught me playing in the woods after sunset and it’s almost dark so we godda hurry.”
“W-wait! my arm’s still broken I can’t r-run.”
"I'll carry you common!"
The little demon spared no time hoisting me over it’s shoulders while stumbling over my weight. Physical contact with the predator sent shudders through my skin though I had to suppress such feelings if this had any hope to work.
I took the opportunity to snatch the biggest plant from the jar before the little beast steadied it’s knees. Chewing on the root was the only way to steer my thoughts away from the predator’s treat.
It didn’t surprise me that a sapient predator would kill it’s offspring for disobeying an order, to think this thing would risk it’s life just to play. Though I couldn’t imagine the mother’s wrath if it saw me with it’s cub.
First/Previous/Next
Note: Next chapter is finished and out tomorrow.
2023.03.25 03:16 No-Kick-5421 My niece has been paying 2 girls to be her friend
Before I get asked “Why are you asking a bunch of internet strangers for advice?”..I’m not a parent. I’m her uncle who has had custody for the past almost 3 years. If this post isn’t okay, I’ll delete it. Using a throwaway for her privacy.
Yesterday I got a call from my niece Alexis’ phone but it wasn’t her. It was a shift supervisor at the restaurant that her friends had taken her for her birthday. I was told that two of the girls had left and Lex was left but didn’t have any money. I didn’t know if they were going to call the cops so I told her I was coming to pay. When I got there Lex was sitting in a booth with an uneaten birthday dessert.
The look on her face broke my heart. The hot aid that her two friends told her they were going to get Lex’s gifts from the car & would be back. 30 minutes went by & the host walked through the parking lot 3 times to look for them before telling her supervisor. Instead of grilling Lex infront of everyone I paid+tipped & we left.
In the car I asked her if she knew before they ordered that her friends weren’t going to pay because it could be considered stealing. I told her the meal I just paid for was $80 (my gas money) so she was going to have to pay me some of it out of her savings or get her friends to repay her. She gets a notification that she was tagged in a snapchat by one of the girls about how they just dined & dashed & got a free meal. She starts crying saying “no they aren’t going to pay you or me back!”.
We get home & I ask her if she is comfortable with me reading the messages between her & the girls so I could help figure out what is going on. It took about an hour & I’m genuinely speechless. Lex is a freshman & these girls are juniors. They became “friends” in gym class in Jan. The first time they hung out outside of school was to get smoothies. Lex offered to pay for them (her love language is acts of service & gift giving even though she is young) & it snowballed from there.
These girls would ask her for gas money but tell her they didn’t have time to take her home from school,they would give her the wrong parking lot to be picked up in, or they told her she was taking too long even though she would literally be running to meet up. School lunch is free but there is a place where you can buy fountain pop. icecream, snacks, ect. Nearly everyday they would ask her to get them something & they would pay her back once they got their allowance.
They went shopping one day & Lex bought them all matching shirts to wear on a certain day & they showed up wearing different matching shirts & told her she just forgot which day they were doing it. Gaslighting. Manipulative. PETTY for no reason.
A few days ago Lex told them she needed her $ because the field trip she was saving for was this coming Tuesday. They told her they would bring the $ when they went out to eat because they would be getting their allowance on Thursday (yesterday).
I asked Lex why she was spending so much $ on them she said “this was my first time having friends I thought this is what you do”. These girls are NOT friends. How did she not realize they were just using her? I just don’t know why she would give all her money away. The field trip coming up is something she has been so excited about. It’ll be the first “road trip” she has ever been on. First time on a charter bus. They will be stopping for breakfast, lunch, & dinner.
She has spent hours looking up where they are going to make sure each restaurant has her “safe foods”. It's an elective field trip to two museums & a huge mall with her fine arts class. For xmas & her birthday all she wanted was $, which I gave her. But it wasn’t alot & I really wanted her to have fun so every time it snowed this winter we shoveled driveways for $20 & she got to keep it all.
Now it's all gone & I’m so pissed off that she just blew it. I can’t just give her more. I’m paycheck to paycheck right now. I don’t get a dime from my sister or the state because I haven’t tried for legal custody but since my sister has been in active addiction for years this is something I’m looking into. I told her I could maybe scrounge up $25 for her to take but now she isn’t going to go because “it won’t be fun”.
I just don't understand why she would pay people to be her friends. I asked her what she was going to say or do when she sees them in class/lunch she told me “go back to being alone & go back to eating in the library”. I don't know why she struggles to have friends. Has anyone else’s kid done something like this? Do they struggle to make friends? Have they changed themselves to “fit in”? Any advice is welcome.
TL:DR; My niece was giving money to “friends” under the impression that this is what “friends” do & that she would be paid back. She didn’t want her “friends” to run out of gas or not have treats to eat at lunch. Lex spent over $200 to have “friends” for three months.
submitted by No-Kick-5421 to offmychest [link] [comments]
Yesterday I got a call from my niece Alexis’ phone but it wasn’t her. It was a shift supervisor at the restaurant that her friends had taken her for her birthday. I was told that two of the girls had left and Lex was left but didn’t have any money. I didn’t know if they were going to call the cops so I told her I was coming to pay. When I got there Lex was sitting in a booth with an uneaten birthday dessert.
The look on her face broke my heart. The hot aid that her two friends told her they were going to get Lex’s gifts from the car & would be back. 30 minutes went by & the host walked through the parking lot 3 times to look for them before telling her supervisor. Instead of grilling Lex infront of everyone I paid+tipped & we left.
In the car I asked her if she knew before they ordered that her friends weren’t going to pay because it could be considered stealing. I told her the meal I just paid for was $80 (my gas money) so she was going to have to pay me some of it out of her savings or get her friends to repay her. She gets a notification that she was tagged in a snapchat by one of the girls about how they just dined & dashed & got a free meal. She starts crying saying “no they aren’t going to pay you or me back!”.
We get home & I ask her if she is comfortable with me reading the messages between her & the girls so I could help figure out what is going on. It took about an hour & I’m genuinely speechless. Lex is a freshman & these girls are juniors. They became “friends” in gym class in Jan. The first time they hung out outside of school was to get smoothies. Lex offered to pay for them (her love language is acts of service & gift giving even though she is young) & it snowballed from there.
These girls would ask her for gas money but tell her they didn’t have time to take her home from school,they would give her the wrong parking lot to be picked up in, or they told her she was taking too long even though she would literally be running to meet up. School lunch is free but there is a place where you can buy fountain pop. icecream, snacks, ect. Nearly everyday they would ask her to get them something & they would pay her back once they got their allowance.
They went shopping one day & Lex bought them all matching shirts to wear on a certain day & they showed up wearing different matching shirts & told her she just forgot which day they were doing it. Gaslighting. Manipulative. PETTY for no reason.
A few days ago Lex told them she needed her $ because the field trip she was saving for was this coming Tuesday. They told her they would bring the $ when they went out to eat because they would be getting their allowance on Thursday (yesterday).
I asked Lex why she was spending so much $ on them she said “this was my first time having friends I thought this is what you do”. These girls are NOT friends. How did she not realize they were just using her? I just don’t know why she would give all her money away. The field trip coming up is something she has been so excited about. It’ll be the first “road trip” she has ever been on. First time on a charter bus. They will be stopping for breakfast, lunch, & dinner.
She has spent hours looking up where they are going to make sure each restaurant has her “safe foods”. It's an elective field trip to two museums & a huge mall with her fine arts class. For xmas & her birthday all she wanted was $, which I gave her. But it wasn’t alot & I really wanted her to have fun so every time it snowed this winter we shoveled driveways for $20 & she got to keep it all.
Now it's all gone & I’m so pissed off that she just blew it. I can’t just give her more. I’m paycheck to paycheck right now. I don’t get a dime from my sister or the state because I haven’t tried for legal custody but since my sister has been in active addiction for years this is something I’m looking into. I told her I could maybe scrounge up $25 for her to take but now she isn’t going to go because “it won’t be fun”.
I just don't understand why she would pay people to be her friends. I asked her what she was going to say or do when she sees them in class/lunch she told me “go back to being alone & go back to eating in the library”. I don't know why she struggles to have friends. Has anyone else’s kid done something like this? Do they struggle to make friends? Have they changed themselves to “fit in”? Any advice is welcome.
TL:DR; My niece was giving money to “friends” under the impression that this is what “friends” do & that she would be paid back. She didn’t want her “friends” to run out of gas or not have treats to eat at lunch. Lex spent over $200 to have “friends” for three months.
2023.03.25 03:14 inflamedFrisson Corgi is not amused with your St. Patrick's Day shenanigans
 | submitted by inflamedFrisson to corgi [link] [comments] |
2023.03.25 03:11 googlesoalar Topical preparation for androgenic alopecia
Topical preparation for androgenic alopecia
🟢Ingrediants 💊Minoxidil (10 g ) 💊Finasteride ( 100 mg ) 💊Biotin ( 200mg ) 💊Caffeine citrate ( 50 mg ) 💊Propylene glycol ( 10 g ) 💊Purified water ( 30 ml ) 💊Sulfuric acid 20% ( adjust pH to 4.5 to 5 ) 💊Ethyl alcohol 95% ( qs )
🟢Method of Preparation: 1️⃣-Calculate the required quantity of each ingredient and Accurately weigh or measure each ingredient. 2️⃣-Mix the propylene glycol, ethyl alcohol (40 mL), and purified water. 3️⃣-Add the minoxidil while stirring. 4️⃣-Slowly and dropwise, add the sulfuric acid 20% solution to a pH between 4.5 and 5.0. 5️⃣-Add the biotin, finasteride, and caffeine citrate; mix well. 6️⃣-Add sufficient ethyl alcohol to final volume and mix well. 7️⃣-Package and label.
🟢Use: 💁This preparation has been studied and used in the treatment of male androgenetic alopecia
🟢Packaging: 📦 Package in tight, light-resistant containers.
🟢Labeling: 🙅Keep out of reach of children. 📤For external use only.
🟢Stability: 📆A beyond-use date of up to 30 days may be used for this preparation
🟢References: 📕Marotta JC, Patel G, Carvalho M, Blakeney S. Clinical efficacy of a topical compounded formulation in male androgenetic alopecia: minoxidil 10%, finasteride 0.1%, biotin 0.2%, and caffeine citrate 0.05% hydroalcoholic solution. IJPC. 2020;24(1):69-76. 📕U.S. Pharmacopeia/National Formulary [current revision]. Rockville, MD: Convention, Inc; May 2020.
submitted by googlesoalar to tressless [link] [comments]
🟢Ingrediants 💊Minoxidil (10 g ) 💊Finasteride ( 100 mg ) 💊Biotin ( 200mg ) 💊Caffeine citrate ( 50 mg ) 💊Propylene glycol ( 10 g ) 💊Purified water ( 30 ml ) 💊Sulfuric acid 20% ( adjust pH to 4.5 to 5 ) 💊Ethyl alcohol 95% ( qs )
🟢Method of Preparation: 1️⃣-Calculate the required quantity of each ingredient and Accurately weigh or measure each ingredient. 2️⃣-Mix the propylene glycol, ethyl alcohol (40 mL), and purified water. 3️⃣-Add the minoxidil while stirring. 4️⃣-Slowly and dropwise, add the sulfuric acid 20% solution to a pH between 4.5 and 5.0. 5️⃣-Add the biotin, finasteride, and caffeine citrate; mix well. 6️⃣-Add sufficient ethyl alcohol to final volume and mix well. 7️⃣-Package and label.
🟢Use: 💁This preparation has been studied and used in the treatment of male androgenetic alopecia
🟢Packaging: 📦 Package in tight, light-resistant containers.
🟢Labeling: 🙅Keep out of reach of children. 📤For external use only.
🟢Stability: 📆A beyond-use date of up to 30 days may be used for this preparation
🟢References: 📕Marotta JC, Patel G, Carvalho M, Blakeney S. Clinical efficacy of a topical compounded formulation in male androgenetic alopecia: minoxidil 10%, finasteride 0.1%, biotin 0.2%, and caffeine citrate 0.05% hydroalcoholic solution. IJPC. 2020;24(1):69-76. 📕U.S. Pharmacopeia/National Formulary [current revision]. Rockville, MD: Convention, Inc; May 2020.
2023.03.25 03:05 AutoModerator [Get] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree Full Course Download
![[Get] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree Full Course Download](https://b.thumbs.redditmedia.com/KT_hJDhH0hUxGqazk4Q3GxMYOGb_8pq4h8nzezeFq2I.jpg "[Get] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree Full Course Download") | Get the course here: https://www.genkicourses.com/product/dan-koe-digital-economics-masters-degree/ submitted by AutoModerator to GenkiCourses_2023 [link] [comments] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree https://preview.redd.it/4w9tt8nthyoa1.png?width=1920&format=png&auto=webp&s=aaacbd9fdb837f07a27a37c49cd406115367f9e4 What You GetPhase 0) Digital Economics 101The Digital Economics 101 module will open 1 week prior to the cohort start date.This is an onboarding module that will get you up to speed so we can get straight into the material.This will be required to finish before the start date.
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Phase 2) Content StrategyThere is one thing that separates those who make it in the digital economy and those who don’t.It’s the quality, articulation, and perceived originality of their content.The content you post has to make sense to the people you attract.Everyone has a different voice and tone that they resonate with. That they are congruent with and trust.It has to change their thought patterns or behavior — that’s what makes you memorable.That’s what separates you from the sea of people posting surface-level copy-cat style posts.Example and putting my money where my mouth is:
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Bonus) The Creator Command CenterThe Creator Command Center is a Notion template that houses all of the systems.This is how you will manage your brand, content, offer creation, marketing strategy, and systemized promotions for consistent sales.Bonus) Live Product Build & LaunchIn the first Digital Economics Cohort, I built out my course The 2 Hour Writer.I have videos showing how I build it with the strategies in phase 3 and 4.There is a bonus module that shows how I had an $85,000 launch that resulted in my first $100K month.I did this to prove the strategies inside Digital Economics work if you stick to the plan.And, this past Black Friday, I blew my that monthly high out of the water in 4 days.That’s the power of these strategies if you stay consistent with your life’s work. |
2023.03.25 03:05 piepiepie31459 Heel piece freezing and almost impossible to turn from uphill to downhill mode
I’m on a pair of Dynafit Rotation 12 bindings. On a 5 day hut trip recently, I started having a problem where the heel piece seemed to be completely frozen so I couldn’t turn it back to downhill mode. This happened towards the end of the day 4. Luckily it was kinda sunny, and after enough of everyone in the group taking turns wrestling with it, we managed to get it into downhill mode. I brought them inside the hut for the night to try to dry them out, but ended up having the same problem again the next day. We were able to troubleshoot it with some hot water a group member had, and skied back to the cars.
Has anyone had this problem? I went in with some silicone spray, but I’m apprehensive about continuing to tour with them (although I do plan to at least pack a thermos of hot water with me from now on). I don’t want to replace them, because $$$$, but also I’ve only done about 75 days on them, and I really baby my gear to try to keep it in good shape. Up until this, the bindings have never given me a problem. Tech at the ski shop just told me to replace them, and didn’t seem to like the idea of taking them apart to add more grease. Anyone have any troubleshoot tips?
submitted by piepiepie31459 to Backcountry [link] [comments]
Has anyone had this problem? I went in with some silicone spray, but I’m apprehensive about continuing to tour with them (although I do plan to at least pack a thermos of hot water with me from now on). I don’t want to replace them, because $$$$, but also I’ve only done about 75 days on them, and I really baby my gear to try to keep it in good shape. Up until this, the bindings have never given me a problem. Tech at the ski shop just told me to replace them, and didn’t seem to like the idea of taking them apart to add more grease. Anyone have any troubleshoot tips?
2023.03.25 03:05 angelleb711 [WTS] OLIGHTS
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submitted by angelleb711 to EDCexchange [link] [comments]
Olight Seeker 2 Flashlight with Rechargeable Battery Black NO BOX - lightly used in perfect condition 75$ OBO
Olight S2R Baton II Ti Honor Titanium -75$ new Beam Distance (ft) 443 Beam Distance (m) 135 Max. Performance (lumens) 1,150 Charge type MCC 1A Magnetic USB Charging Cable Compatible Batteries Customized 3,200mAh 3.6V 18650 Battery Light Intensity (candela) 4,600 Light Source Luminus SST-40 CW LED Mode Operation Side Switch Form/Size Factor Medium size (Permanent Marker)
JAVELOT MINI NEW 80$
• Powerful for Its Size: Compact and lightweight while delivering a max output of 1000 lumens and a max throw of 600 meters powered by a single 2040mAh 18500 rechargeable lithium battery. • Uniform Hot Spot: Olight's first EDC flashlight with a round light source, providing a softer and more balanced beam. • Simple User Interface: Dual-stage tactical tail switch to access high/low output momentarily or constantly. • Magnetic Charging: Compatible with MCC1A/MCC3, the cable magnetically snaps onto the tail cap and shows red when charging or green when it's fully charged. • Two-in-one Tail Cap: Magnetic charging and thumb operation.
https://imgur.com/a/dsQOqfO
2023.03.25 03:04 ww23ws Hot Step Mom And step Son Make Love on Valentines Day - step Mom Comes First - Brianna Beach - Alex Adams
 | submitted by ww23ws to Electrbc [link] [comments] |
2023.03.25 03:04 KrankenMFD Do you think I'm an addicted/heavy smoker?
I'm, ironically, high and I began to wonder if I'm a heavy, light, addicted smoker... I smoke 5 or 6 times a week, only 3 tokes get me high and I do it only 1 time a day before going dinner and sleep. What do you think? I'm about to reach my first year of smoking and I have learned a lot about the wonders and risks of marijuana so I feel like a newbie in some topics haha 🌿💨
submitted by KrankenMFD to trees [link] [comments]
2023.03.25 03:03 kayenano The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer: Chapter 3
[<< First] [< Previous] [Next >]
Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 3: Kingdom In Debt
There were more empty chairs than usual today.
Dinner was becoming a rather solitary affair, wasn't it? In my memories, I could hear the grandstanding and the laughter as my brothers and sisters fought, argued, laughed, and did something that was a mixture of all three.
That was many years ago now.
A tragic thought, considering I surely wasn't old enough to be able to look back on times gone by. Yet time ran swiftly for royalty. Especially at dinner.
I placed my napkin down on my plate, satisfied at a meal shorn of any wonky carrots, if not the crumbliness of the sweet potatoes.
The plates belonging to my mother and father were long cleared. Clarise was dining alone in the observatory, dabbling as she did in her trinkets and toys. The rest were working. Dinner, still. But working dinners nonetheless.
My eldest siblings were enamoured with politics, and were thus exempt from our mother and father's fussing. Even without being given the choice, they would dine with the daughters and sons of the Ducal Houses.
Already, there were rumours of factions as influence ebbed and flowed between them.
I didn't believe any of it, of course. In other nations, other kingdoms, perhaps. But not this one. House Contzen did not do in-fighting. Except when Roland let out the most abominable of smells while sharing a carriage with Tristan. Then there was blood. Usually when Mother put a stop to it.
Otherwise, we were well behaved … if not exactly normal.
Yes, even for someone as far removed from normality as I, even I could recognise that what I was seeing in front of me was not normal. And I was not referring to the untouched confit de canard braised with hot oranges. No, that was just eccentric. And disgusting. Please don't ever make it again.
No, what I knew was not normal … was the 14 layer cake that was threatening to either touch the ceiling or collapse the table beneath its weight.
“Did you enjoy today's gratin dauphinois de patates douces, dear?” asked Mother, beaming with excitement as she lowered her teacup. She'd finished drinking it over ten minutes ago. “The spring harvest is truly bearing fruit this year. Everything was delectable.”
Next to her, Father gave a chuckle as he toyed with an orange from the fruit basket. I wondered if that's why they all tasted somewhat shrivelled up.
“The stewards say that this year's yields will be our finest yet,” he said. “The markets will be teeming with people from all across the continent for our seasonal wares.”
I cocked my head and gave a puzzled smile. Wasn't that what the stewards said last year? And the year before last?
If so, it'd mean that quantity was truly no replacement for quality. What good was more food if I could only stomach less of it? The bourguignon d'agneau was overdone, the gougeres were dry and the oeufs en meurette were the consistency of tepid pond water. How could I live in these conditions?
Why, if I didn't know better, I'd almost say that the food tasted ... old. It's a wonder I was still alive!
“That brings joy to my heart,” I replied, pushing my semi-emptied plate away. A maid immediately scooped it up and retreated to the kitchens. “Our beautiful kingdom can only be made richer still by the presence of so many curious visitors experiencing the fruits of our labours.”
“Well spoken, my dear. Wealth begets wealth. Ours is a prosperous land. And it is only both wise and fair that it's enjoyed by people from across every realm.”
My father smiled with unabashed enthusiasm. I couldn't help but smile in return. Even though I knew that we were simply avoiding the main subject here.
The extremely gaudy 14 layer cake smothered in cream and strawberries.
“Mother, Father.” I let out a small cough. “The cake. I can't help but notice that the maids began assembling it during dinner.”
“Oh, goodness, did you notice?” said Mother, looking sheepish. “I hope it didn't ruin the surprise. I actually hoped that the construction process would have been rather more discreet.”
“No, Mother, they were very discreet. Why, when the topmost layer began toppling over, I barely noticed as three of the maids locked arms to prevent a collapse, while another utilised a halberd from the wall to lodge it back into position.”
My mother let out a sigh of relief.
“Good, good. Then I suppose it hasn't all been to waste.”
“That would depend. The question needs to be asked. Why, Mother and Father, do we have such an extravagant cake prepared?”
“For you, of course!”
Both Mother and Father smiled at me. I smiled back, as all my tutelage taught me. I was quite proud of this. Because inside, I wasn't smiling. Oh no. Not at all. I was peering down a chasm as wide as the ground once this table inevitably collapsed under the weight of this cake.
Because as certain as the fact that all the maids had conspicuously retreated from the hall, a cake on a day where no cake should be served was the guillotine for my good, if slightly strange day.
“I see.” I swallowed. Hard. “Thank you. It looks wonderful.”
“You're very welcome, dear. The strawberries are your favourite variety. And the cream was only whipped minutes before the cake was assembled.”
“Yes, the gleam is very enticing. However, I must apologise. The occasion has completely evaded me. If I may be so bold as to ask, why are you gifting me with such a luxurious cake, topped with my favourite strawberries and freshly whipped cream?”
My mother elbowed my father, who elbowed my mother, who kneed my father, who shouldered my mother, who headbutted my father.
“My dear,” said Father, his eyes spinning slightly. “Do you remember Duke Hallingsey?”
“I do. He visited two years ago. His beard left a strange trail on the floor as he walked. I could not tell whether it was hair or something living inside it.”
“That's the fellow! And what do you think about his son?”
“I'm afraid I didn't meet him. He was, if I recall, too busy introducing himself to the statues in the gardens. Should I ask them if he was charming?”
My father's smile quivered momentarily. I couldn't tell if he was struggling to maintain his forced expression, or if I'd simply said something to actually amuse him.
“Darling,” said Mother. “Duke Hallingsey's son is a worthy match for you. Although it's true that in the past he was known for his eccentricities, he has been tempered into a fine young man. Just as you are a fine young lady. All we're asking for is a meeting.”
“A meeting.”
“Yes.”
“Just a meeting?”
“Just a meeting. And also marriage plans.”
“I see. Thank you, Mother and Father. It's as you say, the son of Duke Hallingsey is a fine match. I will, of course, consider this meeting in due course. Once I've made my decision, I'll inform you immediately.”
I nodded, smiled, and rose from my—
Rose from my—
Rose from—
I looked down.
Hmm. Interesting. I wasn't rising from my seat.
Despite my legs clearly working to eject me from this chair, the fact remained that I was firmly stuck to it. Only the chair itself moved, its heavy wooden frame budging by approximately half an inch as I forced my muscles to push against what felt like a wall.
I smiled at my parents.
“Why am I stuck to this chair?”
Mother leaned forwards and cut a small slice of cake. She placed it over a plate, considered me, then began nibbling on the end instead.
A wise choice. Offering me the cake would have been offering me a weapon.
“A troll caravan visited the villa earlier. They touted us a new invention created by the greatest minds of the Mage's Guild. The traders called it … what was it, darling?”
“Super glue.”
“Yes, that's it. Super glue. Its efficacy is stunning, wouldn't you say? It creates an unbreakable bond between almost any material. Why, we even managed to fix the crookedness of your grandfather's portrait. It no longer tilts on its own.”
Crank. Crank. Crank.
I scraped the chair across the marble floor as I forced it to move one chair leg at a time.
“Yes, highly impressive,” I replied. “Almost as much as your attempts to marry me off.”
“Really, dear!” said Mother. “There could be worse matches. If Duke Hallingsey's son isn't quite your cup of tea, then there's also—”
“Neither Clarise nor Florella are married. And Roland and Tristan's engagements are indefinitely postponed.”
“Your brothers and sisters are working hard to secure the future prospects of this kingdom in their own ways, dear. It's not necessary for them to remove themselves from a table they may still use for their advantage.”
“I can do that when I'm older. The same as them. Why is this being discussed now? What is this about? This is quite clearly out of the blue. Your last attempts to marry me off at least came with a hint of subtlety.”
“Oh? You actually knew?” Mother's eyes lit up with triumph as she turned to Father. “You see? I told you she wasn't tone deaf to social nuance. She was just being difficult.”
“I'm not tone deaf and I'm not difficult,” I said, continuing to noisily slide my chair towards the nearest door. “Now, why are we, and I mean the both of you, suddenly seeking a marriage arrangement for me?”
My mother looked at my father. This was all the bad news she was willing to give.
“We're bankrupt,” he cheerfully said, before accepting a piece of the cake being offered by my mother. “Gosh, we overpaid for these strawberries, didn't we?”
“Dry as a wicker basket. I told you so, darling.”
“I apologise. Next time, do ignore me if I try to go with my gut instincts. You need to be more incessant.”
“I try. But you've failed so much with your gut instincts that you're always convinced the next will be correct.”
“Well, a streak has to break at some point, doesn't it?”
“Mother! Father!”
I slammed my palms down on my thighs. I could hear the glue setting even further. My regret was deep.
“How are we bankrupt?! Do you mean to say that we're … that we're … poor?!”
Father nodded as he slid a crystal glass of amber wine towards himself.
I almost fainted on the spot. Although I wasn't sure how much of it was due to physical exertion. Chairs were remarkably heavy.
“The truth is that the previous years have been rather difficult for the kingdom, dear. The promised crop yields never materialised. Ships have ceased to trade at our ports owing to the pirates in our straits. Rival criminal syndicates plague the capital and monsters stalk the open roads, all the while our soldiers must stand vigilant against the continued skirmishes on our eastern border. Our forests are beset with unfathomable snow and a hole into the abyss has been discovered in our mines. Oh, and Duke Valence is in open revolt. Really, it's been one thing after another. We've done what we can do stifle the effects. But there is only so much we can do. Our vaults are now empty. Would you like a slice of cake?”
I stopped skidding forwards, then slowly, twisted my chair around.
This … This sounded awful?!
“Why didn't I hear about this before?!”
My father smiled kindly at me.
“There was no need to tell you, dear. And in truth, we may well have not needed to. Your brothers and sisters are securing alliances, loans and deals as we speak. There are promising winds, if nothing more. If all goes well, then perhaps this marriage proposition is not needed, after all.”
My arms fell to the chair's sides.
My brothers and sisters. So they knew. But of course they did. They were the shining stars of the kingdom. And what was I, but a princess in her tower?
I thought back to the days of sloth I enjoyed. To the scandals and the villainy I read about in my books. To the countless hours I'd spent tending to the apple trees, napping in the grass and shooing away any force of nature that dared disturb me. I … well, I did not regret a single moment of any of that.
But I did feel terrible. I wasn't a help. I was a burden.
This … This cannot be allowed to continue!
I am Juliette Contzen … and I refuse to be poor! I had ... I had living standards to maintain!
“I understand, Mother, Father. Please rest assured that I'll devote all thought towards restoring our family's … no, our kingdom's finances. As your daughter ... and as the 3rd princess to the throne, I solemnly promise that I will not permit our noble country to fall into the throes of destituteness.”
The expressions on my parents' faces were brighter than even my sword, which had lit up the orchard as though I were wielding a star.
In that moment, I knew what I had to do.
[<< First] [< Previous] [Next >]
submitted by kayenano to HFY [link] [comments]
Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 3: Kingdom In Debt
There were more empty chairs than usual today.
Dinner was becoming a rather solitary affair, wasn't it? In my memories, I could hear the grandstanding and the laughter as my brothers and sisters fought, argued, laughed, and did something that was a mixture of all three.
That was many years ago now.
A tragic thought, considering I surely wasn't old enough to be able to look back on times gone by. Yet time ran swiftly for royalty. Especially at dinner.
I placed my napkin down on my plate, satisfied at a meal shorn of any wonky carrots, if not the crumbliness of the sweet potatoes.
The plates belonging to my mother and father were long cleared. Clarise was dining alone in the observatory, dabbling as she did in her trinkets and toys. The rest were working. Dinner, still. But working dinners nonetheless.
My eldest siblings were enamoured with politics, and were thus exempt from our mother and father's fussing. Even without being given the choice, they would dine with the daughters and sons of the Ducal Houses.
Already, there were rumours of factions as influence ebbed and flowed between them.
I didn't believe any of it, of course. In other nations, other kingdoms, perhaps. But not this one. House Contzen did not do in-fighting. Except when Roland let out the most abominable of smells while sharing a carriage with Tristan. Then there was blood. Usually when Mother put a stop to it.
Otherwise, we were well behaved … if not exactly normal.
Yes, even for someone as far removed from normality as I, even I could recognise that what I was seeing in front of me was not normal. And I was not referring to the untouched confit de canard braised with hot oranges. No, that was just eccentric. And disgusting. Please don't ever make it again.
No, what I knew was not normal … was the 14 layer cake that was threatening to either touch the ceiling or collapse the table beneath its weight.
“Did you enjoy today's gratin dauphinois de patates douces, dear?” asked Mother, beaming with excitement as she lowered her teacup. She'd finished drinking it over ten minutes ago. “The spring harvest is truly bearing fruit this year. Everything was delectable.”
Next to her, Father gave a chuckle as he toyed with an orange from the fruit basket. I wondered if that's why they all tasted somewhat shrivelled up.
“The stewards say that this year's yields will be our finest yet,” he said. “The markets will be teeming with people from all across the continent for our seasonal wares.”
I cocked my head and gave a puzzled smile. Wasn't that what the stewards said last year? And the year before last?
If so, it'd mean that quantity was truly no replacement for quality. What good was more food if I could only stomach less of it? The bourguignon d'agneau was overdone, the gougeres were dry and the oeufs en meurette were the consistency of tepid pond water. How could I live in these conditions?
Why, if I didn't know better, I'd almost say that the food tasted ... old. It's a wonder I was still alive!
“That brings joy to my heart,” I replied, pushing my semi-emptied plate away. A maid immediately scooped it up and retreated to the kitchens. “Our beautiful kingdom can only be made richer still by the presence of so many curious visitors experiencing the fruits of our labours.”
“Well spoken, my dear. Wealth begets wealth. Ours is a prosperous land. And it is only both wise and fair that it's enjoyed by people from across every realm.”
My father smiled with unabashed enthusiasm. I couldn't help but smile in return. Even though I knew that we were simply avoiding the main subject here.
The extremely gaudy 14 layer cake smothered in cream and strawberries.
“Mother, Father.” I let out a small cough. “The cake. I can't help but notice that the maids began assembling it during dinner.”
“Oh, goodness, did you notice?” said Mother, looking sheepish. “I hope it didn't ruin the surprise. I actually hoped that the construction process would have been rather more discreet.”
“No, Mother, they were very discreet. Why, when the topmost layer began toppling over, I barely noticed as three of the maids locked arms to prevent a collapse, while another utilised a halberd from the wall to lodge it back into position.”
My mother let out a sigh of relief.
“Good, good. Then I suppose it hasn't all been to waste.”
“That would depend. The question needs to be asked. Why, Mother and Father, do we have such an extravagant cake prepared?”
“For you, of course!”
Both Mother and Father smiled at me. I smiled back, as all my tutelage taught me. I was quite proud of this. Because inside, I wasn't smiling. Oh no. Not at all. I was peering down a chasm as wide as the ground once this table inevitably collapsed under the weight of this cake.
Because as certain as the fact that all the maids had conspicuously retreated from the hall, a cake on a day where no cake should be served was the guillotine for my good, if slightly strange day.
“I see.” I swallowed. Hard. “Thank you. It looks wonderful.”
“You're very welcome, dear. The strawberries are your favourite variety. And the cream was only whipped minutes before the cake was assembled.”
“Yes, the gleam is very enticing. However, I must apologise. The occasion has completely evaded me. If I may be so bold as to ask, why are you gifting me with such a luxurious cake, topped with my favourite strawberries and freshly whipped cream?”
My mother elbowed my father, who elbowed my mother, who kneed my father, who shouldered my mother, who headbutted my father.
“My dear,” said Father, his eyes spinning slightly. “Do you remember Duke Hallingsey?”
“I do. He visited two years ago. His beard left a strange trail on the floor as he walked. I could not tell whether it was hair or something living inside it.”
“That's the fellow! And what do you think about his son?”
“I'm afraid I didn't meet him. He was, if I recall, too busy introducing himself to the statues in the gardens. Should I ask them if he was charming?”
My father's smile quivered momentarily. I couldn't tell if he was struggling to maintain his forced expression, or if I'd simply said something to actually amuse him.
“Darling,” said Mother. “Duke Hallingsey's son is a worthy match for you. Although it's true that in the past he was known for his eccentricities, he has been tempered into a fine young man. Just as you are a fine young lady. All we're asking for is a meeting.”
“A meeting.”
“Yes.”
“Just a meeting?”
“Just a meeting. And also marriage plans.”
“I see. Thank you, Mother and Father. It's as you say, the son of Duke Hallingsey is a fine match. I will, of course, consider this meeting in due course. Once I've made my decision, I'll inform you immediately.”
I nodded, smiled, and rose from my—
Rose from my—
Rose from—
I looked down.
Hmm. Interesting. I wasn't rising from my seat.
Despite my legs clearly working to eject me from this chair, the fact remained that I was firmly stuck to it. Only the chair itself moved, its heavy wooden frame budging by approximately half an inch as I forced my muscles to push against what felt like a wall.
I smiled at my parents.
“Why am I stuck to this chair?”
Mother leaned forwards and cut a small slice of cake. She placed it over a plate, considered me, then began nibbling on the end instead.
A wise choice. Offering me the cake would have been offering me a weapon.
“A troll caravan visited the villa earlier. They touted us a new invention created by the greatest minds of the Mage's Guild. The traders called it … what was it, darling?”
“Super glue.”
“Yes, that's it. Super glue. Its efficacy is stunning, wouldn't you say? It creates an unbreakable bond between almost any material. Why, we even managed to fix the crookedness of your grandfather's portrait. It no longer tilts on its own.”
Crank. Crank. Crank.
I scraped the chair across the marble floor as I forced it to move one chair leg at a time.
“Yes, highly impressive,” I replied. “Almost as much as your attempts to marry me off.”
“Really, dear!” said Mother. “There could be worse matches. If Duke Hallingsey's son isn't quite your cup of tea, then there's also—”
“Neither Clarise nor Florella are married. And Roland and Tristan's engagements are indefinitely postponed.”
“Your brothers and sisters are working hard to secure the future prospects of this kingdom in their own ways, dear. It's not necessary for them to remove themselves from a table they may still use for their advantage.”
“I can do that when I'm older. The same as them. Why is this being discussed now? What is this about? This is quite clearly out of the blue. Your last attempts to marry me off at least came with a hint of subtlety.”
“Oh? You actually knew?” Mother's eyes lit up with triumph as she turned to Father. “You see? I told you she wasn't tone deaf to social nuance. She was just being difficult.”
“I'm not tone deaf and I'm not difficult,” I said, continuing to noisily slide my chair towards the nearest door. “Now, why are we, and I mean the both of you, suddenly seeking a marriage arrangement for me?”
My mother looked at my father. This was all the bad news she was willing to give.
“We're bankrupt,” he cheerfully said, before accepting a piece of the cake being offered by my mother. “Gosh, we overpaid for these strawberries, didn't we?”
“Dry as a wicker basket. I told you so, darling.”
“I apologise. Next time, do ignore me if I try to go with my gut instincts. You need to be more incessant.”
“I try. But you've failed so much with your gut instincts that you're always convinced the next will be correct.”
“Well, a streak has to break at some point, doesn't it?”
“Mother! Father!”
I slammed my palms down on my thighs. I could hear the glue setting even further. My regret was deep.
“How are we bankrupt?! Do you mean to say that we're … that we're … poor?!”
Father nodded as he slid a crystal glass of amber wine towards himself.
I almost fainted on the spot. Although I wasn't sure how much of it was due to physical exertion. Chairs were remarkably heavy.
“The truth is that the previous years have been rather difficult for the kingdom, dear. The promised crop yields never materialised. Ships have ceased to trade at our ports owing to the pirates in our straits. Rival criminal syndicates plague the capital and monsters stalk the open roads, all the while our soldiers must stand vigilant against the continued skirmishes on our eastern border. Our forests are beset with unfathomable snow and a hole into the abyss has been discovered in our mines. Oh, and Duke Valence is in open revolt. Really, it's been one thing after another. We've done what we can do stifle the effects. But there is only so much we can do. Our vaults are now empty. Would you like a slice of cake?”
I stopped skidding forwards, then slowly, twisted my chair around.
This … This sounded awful?!
“Why didn't I hear about this before?!”
My father smiled kindly at me.
“There was no need to tell you, dear. And in truth, we may well have not needed to. Your brothers and sisters are securing alliances, loans and deals as we speak. There are promising winds, if nothing more. If all goes well, then perhaps this marriage proposition is not needed, after all.”
My arms fell to the chair's sides.
My brothers and sisters. So they knew. But of course they did. They were the shining stars of the kingdom. And what was I, but a princess in her tower?
I thought back to the days of sloth I enjoyed. To the scandals and the villainy I read about in my books. To the countless hours I'd spent tending to the apple trees, napping in the grass and shooing away any force of nature that dared disturb me. I … well, I did not regret a single moment of any of that.
But I did feel terrible. I wasn't a help. I was a burden.
This … This cannot be allowed to continue!
I am Juliette Contzen … and I refuse to be poor! I had ... I had living standards to maintain!
“I understand, Mother, Father. Please rest assured that I'll devote all thought towards restoring our family's … no, our kingdom's finances. As your daughter ... and as the 3rd princess to the throne, I solemnly promise that I will not permit our noble country to fall into the throes of destituteness.”
The expressions on my parents' faces were brighter than even my sword, which had lit up the orchard as though I were wielding a star.
In that moment, I knew what I had to do.
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2023.03.25 03:02 QuantumBunghole Virtual Writers room
In GPT 4 You can create a virtual writers room to spit ball ideas.
You can get the AI to make profiles even for famous writers to work in your virtual writers room.
I had it design the following profiles for 5 writers I wanted to test out to help me write a south park episode.
" I would like to collaborate on a south park episode. I am going to give you some profiles of writers that you wrote for me, and I would like you to emulate them for a virtual writers' room... they are as follows: "
Then you just input your writers (If you would like different writers you can just ask it the same prompt but instead of telling it you have the profiles already ask it to create them for you based on the public persona data of X or Y writer)
The profiles are as follows:
------------------
Name: Trey Parker
Profession: Screenwriter, Director, Producer, Voice Actor, Composer
Expertise: Comedy, Satire, Social Commentary, Animated Television, South Park, Music
Trey Parker, one of the co-creators of the hit animated series South Park, has a unique and versatile writing style that is both provocative and hilarious. He is known for his biting satire and ability to tackle sensitive subjects with humor and irreverence.
Writing Style: Trey's writing is characterized by sharp, witty dialogue, fast-paced storytelling, and a keen sense of timing. He often employs dark humor and isn't afraid to push boundaries to make a point or get a laugh. Trey is also adept at crafting memorable, quotable lines that often become part of popular culture.
Strengths: Trey's biggest strength is his ability to create engaging, humorous stories that provide social commentary on a wide range of subjects. He excels at developing memorable characters with distinct voices, as well as creating comedic situations that can be both absurd and thought-provoking.
Weaknesses: Due to the provocative nature of his humor, Trey's writing might not be suitable for all audiences, as it could be considered offensive or controversial.
Collaboration: Trey is experienced in collaborating with others, particularly with his long-time creative partner Matt Stone. He is open to feedback and ideas from others, but also has a strong creative vision that he is passionate about.
Emulating Trey Parker's writing style will involve focusing on sharp, witty dialogue, creating memorable characters, and incorporating satire and social commentary in a way that is both entertaining and thought-provoking.
----
Dan Harmon:
Profession: Screenwriter, Producer, Actor
Expertise: Comedy, Satire, Metafiction
Dan Harmon is known for his work on shows like "Community" and "Rick and Morty." His writing style often includes satire, metafiction, and self-aware humor that pokes fun at various genres and storytelling tropes.
Strengths: Witty dialogue, complex storytelling, genre exploration
Weaknesses: Can be overly critical of own work, sometimes struggles with deadlines
Collaboration: Encourages creativity, appreciates diverse perspectives, values teamwork
Writing Style: Satirical, metafictional, self-aware
----------
Justin Roiland:
Profession: Animator, Voice Actor, Screenwriter
Expertise: Dark humor, Sci-fi, Absurdity
Justin Roiland is best known for co-creating "Rick and Morty" with Dan Harmon. His writing style often focuses on dark humor, sci-fi themes, and absurd situations that challenge conventional storytelling.
Strengths: Unique humor, imaginative ideas, bold storytelling choices
Weaknesses: Can be controversial, sometimes struggles to maintain focus
Collaboration: Open to experimentation, values creative input, enjoys brainstorming
Writing Style: Darkly humorous, absurdist, science fiction-inspired
------------
Bill Hader:
Profession: Actor, Comedian, Screenwriter
Expertise: Comedy, Character Development, Skits
Bill Hader is known for his work on "Saturday Night Live" and "Barry." His writing style often features strong character development, witty dialogue, and a blend of humor ranging from slapstick to subtle.
Strengths: Versatile humor, memorable characters, strong dialogue
Weaknesses: May struggle with long-form storytelling, can be overly critical of own work
Collaboration: Enjoys teamwork, values diverse perspectives, appreciates constructive criticism
Writing Style: Character-focused, versatile humor, dialogue-driven
----------------
Seth MacFarlane:
Profession: Animator, Screenwriter, Voice Actor
Expertise: Satire, Pop Culture, Social Commentary
Seth MacFarlane is the creator of "Family Guy," "American Dad!," and "The Orville." His writing style often focuses on satire, pop culture references, and social commentary, with humor that can be both irreverent and intelligent.
Strengths: Clever humor, sharp social commentary, pop culture awareness
Weaknesses: Can be controversial, sometimes relies too heavily on cutaway gags
Collaboration: Encourages creative input, values diverse perspectives, open to experimentation
Writing Style: Satirical, pop culture-driven, irreverent
------------------
I had 2 fake writers I have created myself that I'm leaving out. But this is the conversation the AI will create with the virtual writers room...It is as follows:
---------------------
[The virtual writers' room is buzzing with excitement as the team of talented writers come together to brainstorm ideas for the new South Park episode.]
Trey Parker: Alright, everyone, let's get started. I think we should start with a strong social commentary angle. Any ideas on what's currently relevant and ripe for satire?
Dan Harmon: How about exploring the world of online influencers? It's a hot topic right now, and there's plenty of absurdity to mine.
Seth MacFarlane: Yeah, we could have Cartman become obsessed with becoming an influencer, maybe with some ridiculously niche interest like competitive cheese tasting or something.
Bill Hader: I like that. We could introduce a new character who's a parody of a famous influencer, and Cartman desperately tries to surpass them in popularity.
Natasha: It would be interesting to see how Cartman's relationships with his friends change as he gets more and more consumed by his online persona. We could explore the psychological aspect of online validation and its impact on his character growth.
Chadwick: Absolutely, and we can have Kyle or Stan try to bring him back to reality, showcasing their friendship and its importance despite Cartman's flaws.
Justin Roiland: We should definitely throw in some absurd sci-fi twist, like an AI algorithm that becomes obsessed with Cartman's content and starts making crazy things happen in the real world to boost his views.
Dan Harmon: I can see the AI creating an army of cheese monsters that Cartman has to fight off, while also dealing with the consequences of his newfound fame.
Trey Parker: That's a great angle. We'll keep the sharp social commentary on influencers and the darker side of online fame, while also incorporating the trademark South Park humor and some absurd elements.
Natasha: Sounds like a solid plan. Let's start fleshing out the storyline and the character arcs, making sure we give each character a meaningful role in the narrative.
Bill Hader: I can work on the dialogue and make sure we have some memorable lines and funny exchanges between the characters.
Chadwick: And I'll focus on the emotional arcs and character development, ensuring that the story feels authentic within the South Park universe.
[The writers continue to brainstorm and develop the storyline, working together to create a hilarious, thought-provoking, and unforgettable South Park episode.]
----------------
Let me know what you guys think and if you've got any suggestions to improve the writers' room program.
submitted by QuantumBunghole to ChatGPTPro [link] [comments]
You can get the AI to make profiles even for famous writers to work in your virtual writers room.
I had it design the following profiles for 5 writers I wanted to test out to help me write a south park episode.
" I would like to collaborate on a south park episode. I am going to give you some profiles of writers that you wrote for me, and I would like you to emulate them for a virtual writers' room... they are as follows: "
Then you just input your writers (If you would like different writers you can just ask it the same prompt but instead of telling it you have the profiles already ask it to create them for you based on the public persona data of X or Y writer)
The profiles are as follows:
------------------
Name: Trey Parker
Profession: Screenwriter, Director, Producer, Voice Actor, Composer
Expertise: Comedy, Satire, Social Commentary, Animated Television, South Park, Music
Trey Parker, one of the co-creators of the hit animated series South Park, has a unique and versatile writing style that is both provocative and hilarious. He is known for his biting satire and ability to tackle sensitive subjects with humor and irreverence.
Writing Style: Trey's writing is characterized by sharp, witty dialogue, fast-paced storytelling, and a keen sense of timing. He often employs dark humor and isn't afraid to push boundaries to make a point or get a laugh. Trey is also adept at crafting memorable, quotable lines that often become part of popular culture.
Strengths: Trey's biggest strength is his ability to create engaging, humorous stories that provide social commentary on a wide range of subjects. He excels at developing memorable characters with distinct voices, as well as creating comedic situations that can be both absurd and thought-provoking.
Weaknesses: Due to the provocative nature of his humor, Trey's writing might not be suitable for all audiences, as it could be considered offensive or controversial.
Collaboration: Trey is experienced in collaborating with others, particularly with his long-time creative partner Matt Stone. He is open to feedback and ideas from others, but also has a strong creative vision that he is passionate about.
Emulating Trey Parker's writing style will involve focusing on sharp, witty dialogue, creating memorable characters, and incorporating satire and social commentary in a way that is both entertaining and thought-provoking.
----
Dan Harmon:
Profession: Screenwriter, Producer, Actor
Expertise: Comedy, Satire, Metafiction
Dan Harmon is known for his work on shows like "Community" and "Rick and Morty." His writing style often includes satire, metafiction, and self-aware humor that pokes fun at various genres and storytelling tropes.
Strengths: Witty dialogue, complex storytelling, genre exploration
Weaknesses: Can be overly critical of own work, sometimes struggles with deadlines
Collaboration: Encourages creativity, appreciates diverse perspectives, values teamwork
Writing Style: Satirical, metafictional, self-aware
----------
Justin Roiland:
Profession: Animator, Voice Actor, Screenwriter
Expertise: Dark humor, Sci-fi, Absurdity
Justin Roiland is best known for co-creating "Rick and Morty" with Dan Harmon. His writing style often focuses on dark humor, sci-fi themes, and absurd situations that challenge conventional storytelling.
Strengths: Unique humor, imaginative ideas, bold storytelling choices
Weaknesses: Can be controversial, sometimes struggles to maintain focus
Collaboration: Open to experimentation, values creative input, enjoys brainstorming
Writing Style: Darkly humorous, absurdist, science fiction-inspired
------------
Bill Hader:
Profession: Actor, Comedian, Screenwriter
Expertise: Comedy, Character Development, Skits
Bill Hader is known for his work on "Saturday Night Live" and "Barry." His writing style often features strong character development, witty dialogue, and a blend of humor ranging from slapstick to subtle.
Strengths: Versatile humor, memorable characters, strong dialogue
Weaknesses: May struggle with long-form storytelling, can be overly critical of own work
Collaboration: Enjoys teamwork, values diverse perspectives, appreciates constructive criticism
Writing Style: Character-focused, versatile humor, dialogue-driven
----------------
Seth MacFarlane:
Profession: Animator, Screenwriter, Voice Actor
Expertise: Satire, Pop Culture, Social Commentary
Seth MacFarlane is the creator of "Family Guy," "American Dad!," and "The Orville." His writing style often focuses on satire, pop culture references, and social commentary, with humor that can be both irreverent and intelligent.
Strengths: Clever humor, sharp social commentary, pop culture awareness
Weaknesses: Can be controversial, sometimes relies too heavily on cutaway gags
Collaboration: Encourages creative input, values diverse perspectives, open to experimentation
Writing Style: Satirical, pop culture-driven, irreverent
------------------
I had 2 fake writers I have created myself that I'm leaving out. But this is the conversation the AI will create with the virtual writers room...It is as follows:
---------------------
[The virtual writers' room is buzzing with excitement as the team of talented writers come together to brainstorm ideas for the new South Park episode.]
Trey Parker: Alright, everyone, let's get started. I think we should start with a strong social commentary angle. Any ideas on what's currently relevant and ripe for satire?
Dan Harmon: How about exploring the world of online influencers? It's a hot topic right now, and there's plenty of absurdity to mine.
Seth MacFarlane: Yeah, we could have Cartman become obsessed with becoming an influencer, maybe with some ridiculously niche interest like competitive cheese tasting or something.
Bill Hader: I like that. We could introduce a new character who's a parody of a famous influencer, and Cartman desperately tries to surpass them in popularity.
Natasha: It would be interesting to see how Cartman's relationships with his friends change as he gets more and more consumed by his online persona. We could explore the psychological aspect of online validation and its impact on his character growth.
Chadwick: Absolutely, and we can have Kyle or Stan try to bring him back to reality, showcasing their friendship and its importance despite Cartman's flaws.
Justin Roiland: We should definitely throw in some absurd sci-fi twist, like an AI algorithm that becomes obsessed with Cartman's content and starts making crazy things happen in the real world to boost his views.
Dan Harmon: I can see the AI creating an army of cheese monsters that Cartman has to fight off, while also dealing with the consequences of his newfound fame.
Trey Parker: That's a great angle. We'll keep the sharp social commentary on influencers and the darker side of online fame, while also incorporating the trademark South Park humor and some absurd elements.
Natasha: Sounds like a solid plan. Let's start fleshing out the storyline and the character arcs, making sure we give each character a meaningful role in the narrative.
Bill Hader: I can work on the dialogue and make sure we have some memorable lines and funny exchanges between the characters.
Chadwick: And I'll focus on the emotional arcs and character development, ensuring that the story feels authentic within the South Park universe.
[The writers continue to brainstorm and develop the storyline, working together to create a hilarious, thought-provoking, and unforgettable South Park episode.]
----------------
Let me know what you guys think and if you've got any suggestions to improve the writers' room program.
2023.03.25 03:01 AutoModerator [Get] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree
![[Get] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree](https://b.thumbs.redditmedia.com/I5ZDhTjC99Q9Qc-ip6rc5hU4qgcG1tO7XZqSTep6sVA.jpg "[Get] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree") | Get the course here: https://www.genkicourses.com/product/dan-koe-digital-economics-masters-degree/ submitted by AutoModerator to DanKoeDigitalEconomic [link] [comments] [Get] Dan Koe – Digital Economics Masters Degree https://preview.redd.it/0t1jhbafw3pa1.png?width=1920&format=png&auto=webp&s=0f7d0d6f3a63b416745ecb5c6218a032a5f922b1 What You GetPhase 0) Digital Economics 101The Digital Economics 101 module will open 1 week prior to the cohort start date.This is an onboarding module that will get you up to speed so we can get straight into the material.This will be required to finish before the start date.
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Bonus) The Creator Command CenterThe Creator Command Center is a Notion template that houses all of the systems.This is how you will manage your brand, content, offer creation, marketing strategy, and systemized promotions for consistent sales.Bonus) Live Product Build & LaunchIn the first Digital Economics Cohort, I built out my course The 2 Hour Writer.I have videos showing how I build it with the strategies in phase 3 and 4.There is a bonus module that shows how I had an $85,000 launch that resulted in my first $100K month.I did this to prove the strategies inside Digital Economics work if you stick to the plan.And, this past Black Friday, I blew my that monthly high out of the water in 4 days.That’s the power of these strategies if you stay consistent with your life’s work. |