Masashi Kitazawa, a sophomore in high school, had a trauma. The trauma is that I was fat when I was a child!
Kitazawa, who diligently dieted and worked hard in middle school, grew up to be a handsome man and was supposed to lead a peaceful school life, but... In the new semester of high school, handsome men and beautiful girls have gathered in Kitazawa's 2nd year class A for some reason. What's m ... Read Kitazawa-kun wa A Class - Chapter 8 - MangaPuma. Read more at https://mangapuma.com/kitazawa-kun-wa-a-class/chapter-8

Song of the Week
Living In The Dark (Live Belladrum 2022)
Lyrics
Belladrum Festival 2022 Set
Song of the Week #274
Thank you to u/kyokocake for giving me the floor this week, and also huge apologies as she actually gave me the floor LAST week and I missed my slot! I’m hoping to make it up to you with my own take on Song of the Week - a love letter to Living In The Dark Live, and to the shows themselves. Strap in, and thank you for indulging me!
I have been very, very fortunate to have seen the band a good number of times post-pandemic - six to be precise! I made the decision to see them whenever and wherever I possibly could when the lockdowns lifted and live music came back to us. We all learned or reaffirmed that life is ridiculously short, and nothing is promised, so I was determined to make the most of my UK base and get out there. As such, I’ve witnessed this magnificent live performance several times and it truly never gets old! I began to really look forward to it, and moved past being ‘hopeful that it will be on the set list’ to ‘certain that it will’ by the end. My certainty was due to seeing what an incredible time the band, and in particular Jon, seemed to be having onstage whenever they played this beauty.
So onto it - I didn’t attend the Belladrum Tartan Heart Festival, but we do have a lovely upload of it here thanks to Josh! It opens with the most beautiful jangly guitar. A little bit country, a little bit indie pop to my highly untrained ear. Then the fun really begins - Jon’s vocal is as exquisite as ever in this performance, and the addition of the horns and the Wild Tonics really does elevate the whole thing. When we first heard that this would become a regular addition I was very unsure, but I am completely sold now. In person it’s impossible to take your eyes off the Tonics during their solo here, which y’all who know me will recognise is a huge deal for me when The Fratellis are around. It’s a joyous performance all round, and I can’t get enough! I look forward to my European/US/rest of the world friends being able to enjoy it and experience it as I have.
Live or recorded, Living In The Dark is such a beautiful blend of music and lyrics I just can’t help but love. I hope to see the band back on the road soon - I'll be here waiting every day // Wild, wild horses couldn't keep me from your front the stage door, oh, I swear x
Comment below any ideas for Song of the Week for u/kyokocake, and I would like to know: What's your favourite song to hear live OR what would you love to hear live if you've not seen them before?

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Ok ok ok, I bought the Beauty Counter tinted SPF and I kind of love it...
​
please tell me i'm not the only one.

This is such a stupid thing to say, but... I never learned how to shave, I'm a grown ass man with 2 kids and my shaving game is still horrible
When I use the overpriced Gilette Mach8 Fusion Ultra 10-blade it's fine, but it's so overpriced
When I use the cheap-o single use cartridge razors I'm just irritated because they always break
Electric shavers seem to get dirty and break
I should learn to use just safety razor blades I guess? Too afraid honestly

Hey founders,
I'm digging a lot into SaaS pricing lately and I realized something ridiculous...
Startups change their product & marketing strategy every month.Most companies (big & small) adjust their pricing once every 3 years.
Then when you cut the bull---- you realize that's the main reason why startups fail.
- They're bootstrapping and can't get enough revenue to get funded- They're funded and still run out of money
Why? Because they don't find the right pricing & monetization strategy.
Why? Because they set a price and never think about pricing again.
Why? Because they lack pricing expertise and leave it for last. Until it's too late.
True, pricing is its own art & science and not everyone is an expert. Even if you're lucky enough to have a pricing expert on your startup team, they still need time, data, and experimentation to find the right pricing strategy.
I think now is the most important time to think about pricing because:
- The economic downturn and market shifts are making companies shrink their budgets- Mass layoffs, no-code, and AI enable more people to launch new products tonight- The right monetization unlocks sustainable growth, attracts the right buyers, and helps you build the product around the pricing strategy so you scale profitably.
You've probably heard this quote:
"1% improvement in monetization unlocks over 12% in profitability."
Still, even if you choose to focus on pricing, how do you do it? Where do you start?
Having the data is one thing, but it's definitely not enough.
I believe the truth lies on your pricing page. It's the 2nd most visited page on your SaaS website and it's the place where the buying decision happens.
Trouble is that building pricing pages that sell isn't the easiest thing. You still need to know a lot about pricing to do it right.
Well, the best way to learn is by doing.
I believe an easier way to build and iterate beautiful pricing pages is a great first step to making founders and startup teams think more about their pricing and be proactive in finding the right pricing strategy.
Having an easy way to test out different monetization models such as feature-based pricing vs usage-based pricing is the best way to figure out what works.
So my question to you guys is this:
Would you use a product that helps you build pricing pages faster, test multiple pricing strategies faster, and start driving more revenue earlier in your startup journey?
I'm working on an MVP for this right now and I'm validating the idea at the same time. Would love to hear your thoughts!

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Short Synopsis
A young boy with an interest in local history and cemeteries learns about life and the value of friendship when he meets a child named Peter in the local cemetery that may not be all that he seems.
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When I was a kid I had a fascination with graveyards, burial grounds and old churches. I wouldn’t call this a morbid fascination but more of a learning place for a kid of the age of 5 or 6 to explore death and what it means to be remembered by loved ones and friends. As this fascination grew it lead me to the study of local history which would become a keen interest for the rest of life.
My great uncle Tom, who was a mountain of a man as he had worked all of his life as a miner in the local pits, encouraged this interest I had shown in history and at my behest, after Uncle Tom picked me up from school, we would often take long walks with his mongrel dog Tina around the local cemetery. The cemetery was scattered around the large hillside of the local church on the hill. The church cut quite an imposing presence in the small village I grew up in, as it seemed to loom over the whole place sitting high above the rows of houses, local pub and farms. Everyone in the village attended the church at least a few times a week, but at night it was considered a spooky place to the children in the village and my friends considered me very odd and often ridiculed me for my interest in the place and I gained the affectionate nickname Spooky Steven. This wasn’t a bad thing, it was just kids playing around and now we are all grown, we often all sit together having a pint in the local pub and laugh about it. I had my fair share of pokes of fun at them too when we were kids, there was no Internet or game consoles back in those days, so entertainment was what we would make it.
The church was ancient and had gravestones and markers now crumbling with the decay of age that dated as far back as the Anglo Saxon period of Great Britain. This history always fascinated me and it became a common practice for me to head to the graveyard, most often alone in my youth, and make grave rubbings to find names from the past and look them up in the local archives at the town library. This small library was full of old documents such as land registry papers and birth or death records which dated back for hundreds of years, it was like google before computers. I would spend hours in there till closing time at 6pm, looking through all these ancient records and when names came up again and again in certain papers, you could slowly build up a picture of someone’s life. You could see when they were born, who they worked for, who they married and how their lives progressed, most of the older papers ended up with people inheriting land or buying farms and making their way as countryside workers, it was enthralling to me. I think it made me realise early in my life, that if you say someone’s name aloud or read it, that person’s memory is still alive. Even at a young age I found that rather comforting.
Listening to this I’m sure you can imagine I was a bit of a loner, you don’t get the nickname Spooky Steven for being the captain of the football team. No-one was ever cruel to me or anything, I was bullied a little for being different and that was upsetting at times but I wasn’t bothered and I always just kind of did my own thing, so you can imagine I was happy when at about 12 years of age I found a friend who was interested in the same things as I was.
One beautiful summer afternoon while in the graveyard among some shady ancient oaks swaying in the breeze, I was taking some graphite rubbings in a particularly old part of the cemetery and I meet a boy named Peter. Looking back it’s strange that I didn’t know Peter from school, but you don’t think about these things at a young age. When ever I was in that part of the cemetery Peter would often turn up unexpectedly and talk to me about what I was doing and why I was interested in these old names from the past. He was full of information and seemed old for his 13 years, he talked about a lot of the old names on the gravestones as if they were still living. He would tell me about Mr Jones the welsh baker, who spoke with such a strong accent that he was hard to understand and how John Blakley the blacksmith would often let the local children into his shop and teach them how to use the kilns and pay them a small wage for helping him keep the fires burning good and hot. I checked out all of these people that Peter talked about in the library and they were all legitimate people who had lived in the town often hundreds of years in the past. I didn’t question this as Peter would have access to the same documents from history that I did, but I had never seen Peter in the library and I was there most afternoons.
On another occasion Peter told me that he was made to leave school and work from a young age because his father had died in a farming accident, so he had been put to work to help support his family. These times I met Peter we’re all in the late 1980’s and early 90’s and it was only when I began to get a little older that I started to think Peter was not from around here. There was no way a boy of 13 years old would be allowed to work at the hard labour Jobs that Peter talked about doing. Drystone walling or working in the fields are highly dangerous jobs that deal with heavy equipment and chemicals that a child of that age would never be allowed to use in this day and age. But, still I thought nothing of it at first, my young ego thought that maybe he was trying to impress me so I would be his friend. I started to ask about him at school amongst my friends and then the teachers and no-one knew who this boy was. I was again ridiculed for having an imaginary friend so I took a bunch of school friends to the church yard to meet him, but he would never show when I was there with other people. This became very frustrating, so I stopped talking about him.
After about a year or two of meeting with Peter on a few different occasions in the cemetery, I began to notice things that were odd or different about him. The clothes he wore seemed old fashioned and unlike me he didn’t seem to be getting any older, at that age kids grow at an accelerated rate and I was already almost a whole foot taller, but Peter had remained the same. On the last day I saw Peter in those years I questioned him about his clothes and the way he looked and he took great offence to this, his eyes welled up and tears began to roll down his cheeks. I told him I was sorry and that I wouldn’t mention this again, he then said to me some words that I will never forget “Its ok” he said through his tears “It’s been my absolute pleasure to spend this time with you. Just do me a small solid and say my name every once in a while when you are here, I’d appreciate that” he then smiled at me in a way that breaks my heart when I remember it and walked away into a shady part of the cemetery and that was the last time I would see him as a child.
By the time I was around 16 years of age the local historian knew me by name and we had developed a friendship and she began to tell me stories from the past which were not written in any of the history books. Some of the stories she told me were spooky ones about hauntings and other strange paranormal stories of local legends. Because of this interest she had and the passion with which she told me these tales of local occurrences, I felt comfortable enough with her to mention Peter. Her eyes lit up and she asked me to please tell her more. I told her everything and we stayed together well passed closing time looking up names and histories of local residents but we couldn’t find anything about about a young local worker named Peter, however we did find information in a record about the death of a local farmer in his 40s who was crushed in an accident with his wheat plough in the summer of 1889. The strangest part of the story is still to come.
Later in life when I turned 18 I was a regular in the village pub and became very friendly with the landlord and often did shifts in the bar serving in the evening to help pay my way through college where I took a bachelor’s degree in history. In the summer for extra pay the landlord asked me if I were interested in clearing out some of the old attic spaces to get the place ready for an extension that they were going to build. The extra money was welcome so I agreed and that is where the most amazing thing happened. Amongst all the cobweb ridden stacks of books, papers and a wealth of old furniture I found a framed portrait from a very old 1890’s camera. The picture was of a boy laying dead on a bed of flowers on one of the big old wooden tables in the pub, it was Peter. I rummaged around and to my amazement I found hidden in the back of the frame an old newspaper clipping about the death of a 13 year old chimney sweep named Peter Robinson. I was not afraid, but the revelation came as more a relief to know that perhaps I wasn’t crazy and that Peter had reached out to me from somewhere beyond our own understanding of this world. I chose not to mention this to anyone as Peter had never shown himself to anyone else and it felt it would have betrayed our friendship that had occurred in those early years of my youth.
A few weeks later I found myself drawn back to that shady part of the church on the hill amongst those ancient oaks and mossy gravestones with bottle of beer in my hand. It was a beautiful day, there was a gentle breeze and the crickets, birds and insects chatted in the gentle afternoon, just like those summer days I had spend in this place as child with my Uncle Tom and Tina who were now themselves long since departed. I rose the bottle of beer in the air and said Peter’s name out loud and for a brief moment, from the corner of my eye I thought I saw the flicker of a boy standing in the distance in the summer shade and a smile spread across my face. That day I learned a lesson for good, that if we think of those who are dead and gone and remember them out loud they will live on and never be forgotten.
The End
Written By John Renney

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One morning an elderly man was out playing golf, when he hit his ball into the deep rough. While searching for the ball he came across a frog. The frog looked up at him and said: “Sir, if you kiss me, I’ll turn into a beautiful princess.” So the old man bent down, picked up the frog, put it into his pocket, and carried on looking for his ball. A few minutes later a voice from his pocket shouted, “Oi! I don’t think you heard me. I said, if you kiss me, I’ll turn into a beautiful princess.” The old man replied, “No thanks. Frankly at my age I’d rather have a talking frog.”

Hi. I was all set. With promo code entered ready to check out only to see there weren't any actual legit looking check-out methods.
Any suggestions?
I would wire, reductantly to I think the Caucasus ohh boy ... But I'd prefer a site that I could use a credit card with no foreign transaction fees.
Glam derma and ace are two I was ready only to find out nope they really are hard to get in contact with or complete the order.
I don't get all these you tubers not even mentioning this.
But it might be on me not looking hard enough.
So, I ask you all with lose and centerness! Please help me figure out how to get from cart full and checkout to product has been shipped.
Because I can't figure how to pay. 😢😭😢
Anyway stay wonderful and beautiful #

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