Gun show in mcallen tx

Posts must be related to Firearms & Second Amendment Politics. Please engage in Civil Discussion.

2012.12.18 20:57 whubbard Posts must be related to Firearms & Second Amendment Politics. Please engage in Civil Discussion.

This is a place for discussion and debate of Second Amendment related topics, with a Pro-2A emphasis. Civil debate is welcome and encouraged. Even if you're completely opposed to 2A, you're welcome to share your thoughts here, as long as you maintain civility.
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2010.07.22 15:58 TheSixFeet r/Firearms

Discuss firearms, politics, 2nd amendment news. We value freedom of speech as much as we do the right to keep and bear arms. Posts must be somewhat related to firearms and must comply with the Global Reddit Rules.
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2013.02.21 15:39 PhilWV For DIY guns, gun parts, targets, holsters, stocks etc.

Show your gun building skills! Share your pics and experience in gun fabrication, gun restoration, gun cabinets, steel targets or anything else that you make yourself or modify that has anything to do with weapons. In a SHTF situation, what you share here could save lives!
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2023.06.07 04:26 CivilDefenseWarden Someone's doing an archive!

A genius is making a Confinement Archive channel, so be sure to go over there! They'll need a few days to upload it all since YouTube has a cap on uploads in a day. Here's a link to Episode 1! Be sure to show this guy some love, Confinement shouldn't have to die cause Bung is an utter loser. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DchG-X8vh7M&ab_channel=ConfinementReuploads
So far the Episode 8 "Scene that shall not be named" has been removed, and access to the Google Drive was shut down. Someone probably has the Episode 8 scrap downloaded, maybe the Archivist, but did anyone grab the entire Google Drive before it was found out and Bung restricted it? I grabbed the pics that interested me most but not all of it. (Apollo's ref, the "Holloween" thing)
submitted by CivilDefenseWarden to Confinement [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:26 Substantial_Two_8149 Got a dui, trying to rent a car.

So I got a DUI in May 2023 in California(yes, I know its my fault for putting myself in this situation and now dealing with the consequences) and I hired an attorney right away. I was able to request a DMV hearing within the 10 day frame so I have a scheduled hearing coming up in July. I had my license taken from me and was given the temporary license(pink slip) then I was mailed a notice of a temporary license(issued by the California State Transportation Agency DMV Driver Safety Branch) that is valid until the result of my DMV hearing. This past Saturday June 3rd, 2023 I was involved in a car accident. I was not at fault and the other party has already accepted full liability. My policy with Geico covers me with a rental car of $35/day for 30 days. I showed up to Enterprise, showed them the paperwork and they told me they couldn't accept me. I was upset, but I understood I did this to myself and now have to deal with the complications. Anyways I left and then started searching for other rental providers. I called Budget and they told me they'd accept a temporary license. I schedule a reservation for today and they tell me they won't accept my temporary license. They told me they need the temporary license that looks like the one they issue you before getting your physical Drivers license in the mail. I leave again and then head straight to the DMV, explain my situation and why I'm trying to get a temporary license from them just until my dmv hearing and I'm told that they contacted the Driver safety office and they told them not to issue me a temp license. I leave the DMV and contact the Driver safety branch office and they tell me the decision is up to the DMV not them.
If I need to add any other information here please ask. I'm just trying to rent a car at this moment so I can get to work without borrowing someone elses car. Thank you in advance!
submitted by Substantial_Two_8149 to dui [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:26 Maximum-Store7941 Actual conversation

What is the big deal with the younger cats?
Why are you guys gals they’s and thems so opposed to violence in an inherently violent subculture?
My gen (late 90’s-00’s) were fighting off weirdo bums, the nazis the older dudes were too busy to bust up, the local pusher and cracked out gutter punks on the reg
I’m sincerely looking for a conversation here, not a “fuck you guys you don’t get it”
Long time lurkecommenter
First time posting something I actually wonder?
And for perspective my oldest kiddo is wanting to go to shows and I don’t wanna introduce him to a scene that I quite frankly can’t understand anymore
submitted by Maximum-Store7941 to Hardcore [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:25 MartyJ1000 Enable built in admin account for LAPS

I'm configuring LAPS (AzureAD+ Intune), and all is working except for the fact the built in admin account won't re-enable itself.
I have 1 config policy to both rename the built in admin account, and also enable it. The test device I have deployed it to, shows as successful in Intune, but on the device itself, the account has been renamed successfully but account is disabled still.
Then my LAPS policy (endpoint security } account protecrion) successfully applied and updates the password for that renamed account and saves it to AAD, but it won't reenable the account.
Anyone else been able to do this?
submitted by MartyJ1000 to Intune [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:25 Any_Monitor5224 Sudden changes around 4 weeks

Baby is 4 weeks old. Born 37+2 at 5lb 11oz
After some early latch issues things had been going really well. Gaining above average, weighted feeds showing she was transferring on the higher end of normal amount of milk.
Suddenly in the last week it’s all gone to hell. She’s constantly cluster feeding. Nursing sessions used to average 15-20 min and now they take 40+ minutes and never really end. It’s been 5 days like this and I’m losing my will to breastfeed.
I also have a cold which isn’t helping. I’m wondering if she has it too, she has no big noticeable symptoms but my main symptom is a sore throat.
How many days can a baby cluster feed in a row?
submitted by Any_Monitor5224 to breastfeeding [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:25 Kozmo36 Just started to read the LN and had a question [discussion]

Quick background, I dont like reading cuz I'm dyslexic. Then found out I actually enjoy reading LNs of shows I really enjoyed. So due to this I can't say I've read a lot, the question I have is why are there numbers I'm the LN? I had a theory that is had to do with his power but no Then I had a theory that it had to do with change in the scene but that doesn't even line up I'm not sure if it's due to the lack reading I've done or not on why I don't understand the numbers restarting each chapter
submitted by Kozmo36 to Re_Zero [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:25 dollcollective I Was a Last-Minute Replacement in an Off-Broadway Play. Something Else Was Backstage With Us.

When I was getting started, an actor I knew gave me some really good advice. While deciding whether or not to take a certain role, consider three factors: the money, the show, and the people. If at least two of those things are good, accept the job. If they’re paying you well and you love the play, you won’t mind putting up with shitty people. If it’s a great show with a cast full of friends, but you’re not getting paid so well, that’s still alright, it’ll be artistically fulfilling. If it’s a bad show but you love the cast and you’re making money, you’ll probably have the time of your life making fun of the playwright backstage and laughing all the way to the bank.
What my friend failed to mention is that as an aspiring actor, you don’t usually get to be that picky. When I got the call from my agent that a production of The Bacchae was urgently seeking a new chorus member, all I could see were dollar signs. My survival job had just fallen through (the family I nannied for was moving upstate, insisting that Manhattan had just gotten “too dangerous” for their toddler), and my savings were only going to cover my rent for another month.
It was raining the day of my audition, and my train got delayed. I showed up panting (I had to run from the subway station) and my hair a disaster. Luckily, in The Bacchae, the chorus is full of… well… Bacchae. Fervent followers of Dionysus, wild women, drunk and running through the countryside. In the climax of the play, they crowd the protagonist in a frenzy, literally ripping him limb from limb.
I’ll never know if it was my frenetic energy from barely making it to the theater on time, or my actual acting, but I got the part. My costume fitting was the next day– they weren’t kidding about urgently needing a replacement. Which thrilled me, because I wasn’t kidding about urgently needing the money. At the fitting, I discovered something my agent failed to mention about the production: this wasn’t just any version of The Bacchae, it was a recreation– an attempt to perform the play in the traditional Greek style. In other words, everyone was wearing masks.
I’ve never been fond of masks. We had to do a few assignments with them in my college acting courses; covering your face can enhance the physicality of your body, something like that. But I never liked wearing them, or seeing other people wearing them. It wouldn’t be fair to call it a full-on fear, but the stiffness, the lack of expression, gives me a weird feeling in my stomach. And wearing one, your field of vision limited, your mouth covered, making it harder to breathe, harder to project your voice– I don’t like it. It’s as simple as that.
But I needed the money. My costume wasn’t ugly, per se, just strange: a long white dress, or maybe toga is a better word, the fabric about the thickness of a burlap sack. My mask, stark white, paper mache, covering my entire face except my eyes, the mouth carved to imitate a grin. No shoes. My hair tucked into a wild black wig– we wore wigs, they explained to me, so the chorus could be identical, indistinguishable. We moved as one, spoke as one, and were meant to look like one. They even made sure to cast women of the same height. In our costumes, it was impossible to tell which of us was which.
It didn’t help that I was an outsider to the rest of the cast, joining the show weeks into rehearsals. Everyone seemed annoyed that they had to teach me the blocking, the inflection of the lines (so my voice didn’t stick out from the other chorus girls), and where to go backstage during scenes with no chorus. A few people tried to be nice to me, but quickly gave up when they realized I knew nothing about Greek theater, or masked theater, or the avant garde. My last show had been a regional production of Cats, for God’s sake. I was totally out of my element.
Things got especially sour when I tried to ask what had happened to the girl I was replacing. Nobody wanted to talk about it. People gasped when I brought it up. The clearest answer I got was a whispered, hesitant, “she fell,” but the person wouldn’t elaborate any further. The cast seemed superstitious, uncomfortable, like talking about her would cause them to suffer her fate: removal from the show. And it was clear that, aside from me, everyone else loved this show. The actor playing Dionysus, the couple of times he deigned to talk to me, just kept gushing about how honored he was to play this role, how electrifying it felt to put his history minor to use, to show people a piece of the world’s theatrical beginnings.
I thought the show was fine. Kinda boring, kinda scary. I don’t think I “get” The Bacchae. In brief, the story is about Dionysus, son of Zeus, disguised as a human. He and his followers (the chorus) show up in a town, but the leader of the town, Pentheus, is upset about it. He doesn’t understand why all these women are acting crazy, and he arrests Dionysus, not believing him to be an actual God. As punishment, Dionysus possesses Pentheus’s own mother with the same madness as his followers, and together, with their bare hands, they rip Pentheus apart. His mom walks back into town holding her son’s head, thinking it to be, in her madness, the head of a lion. When she realizes what she’s done, she is overwhelmed by grief, and futilely attempts to put Pentheus’s mutilated corpse back together. Dionysus returns, basically saying, “well, he said I wasn’t a God, and that’s blasphemous, so he got what was coming to him.” Pentheus’s mother is exiled.
It’s incredibly dark. In the reviews, critics called it daring, challenging, a bloody spectacle, a feminist masterpiece. I don’t really get what part of “a man who’s a God possesses women’s minds, driving them to murder” screams “feminism,” but hey, I’m the girl who commuted to New Jersey every day for four months to do Cats, what do I know?
Here’s something I do know: the other chorus girls did not like me. And they took their jobs seriously. As we waited to enter for each scene, there was dead quiet in the wings. Usually, there’s some light joking, maybe quickly running lines, maybe physical warmups, shaking out your nerves– I tried to do this once. Before our entrance at the top of the show, we all gathered in the stage right wing, all twelve of us, a perfect and identical dozen. It was a dress rehearsal. No audience. I did a few jumping jacks, trying to hype myself up. Another masked girl grabbed my bicep, hard. When I turned, she just shook her head “no.” Just a simple, silent, “no.” We don’t do that here. We stand silently in the wings, focusing on our craft, breathing, waiting for our entrance. I never tried it again.
When you can’t talk to your coworkers, acting becomes a lot less fun. The collaboration element is totally gone. And honestly, the “acting” element was gone for me, too. How am I supposed to find my character or sense of identity in a role when my role is “don’t let your voice stick out, don’t take a wrong step, blend in perfectly with eleven women who dislike you?”
So before the shows, instead of chatting, or doing jumping jacks, I wandered the theater. I’ve always loved theaters; the dramatic architecture, the ornate prosceniums, the stark contrast of backstage, so dark, so dusty. The theater was no Broadway house, but it had a fly system (which we didn’t use, because the Greeks wouldn’t have been able to fly anything in), just over three hundred seats (including a mezzanine– fancy!), and lots of backstage space. I could say more about it, because I spent hours during the run of the show wandering, but it wouldn’t be terribly interesting to anyone who’s not me. Just know, it was a beautiful old theater– and I mean OLD. Built in the 1910s, just before the Great Depression. I used to love imagining how many generations of people had performed on that stage, imagining what they’d think of this show, or what they’d think of me.
About a week into my wandering, on some fifteen-minute break, I was looking at the ladder that led up to the catwalk– a long, thin metal walkway stretching across the stage from above, usually used for hanging lights. I wondered how long it had been since it was used during a show. I wondered if it was even safe. What would the view be like from up there, seeing the entire stage from thirty feet in the air?
I slowly looked up the ladder. I wouldn’t actually climb it. That would be crazy, right? I’m not particularly good with heights. As my eyes lifted, I made eye contact– or rather, mask contact– with someone. A fellow chorus girl, up on the catwalk.
I stopped breathing for a second. What was she doing up there? I started to say something stupid, like, “Why are you up there?” when just as quickly as the face appeared, it vanished. I saw her white robed form retreat down the catwalk, heading for a different ladder, probably. It was weird. Why did she run? Embarrassed to be caught somewhere she shouldn’t be?
I allowed myself to entertain a little fantasy: maybe she was just like me. Maybe she also hated the other chorus girls, and didn’t “get” The Bacchae. Maybe she was exploring the theater for fun on our break, enjoying the old architecture, like I did. I had no idea who she was under the mask, and she had no idea who I was. She probably thought I was one of the normal judgemental girls, and ran off before I could tell on her to the stage manager.
I was filled with unfounded hope. Could I make a friend here? Was it possible? After two and a half weeks of silence from the other girls, it was hard to imagine. How would I find her? How would I let her know it was me– that I had seen her on the catwalk, and we were the same?
After that day, I got much more observant. When the director called for a break, instead of immediately retreating into the depths of backstage, I watched my eleven doppelgangers carefully, tracking who went for water, who went back to the dressing rooms, who ran off towards the vending machines. It was hard to tell everyone apart, but people had to take their masks off to drink water eventually. I memorized faces and tried to keep track of them. I started to get a handle on everyone’s patterns, narrowing down potential adventurers.
It was impossible. Eleven people is too many to observe. But I’m an actor. Memorizing shit is literally my job. By week four, just days from opening, I had three potential girls. I tried to stick close to them during rehearsals, picking one to follow each day, but nobody ever wandered towards the catwalk. Maybe the girl, whoever she was, had been scared away from adventuring when I caught her. I started to lose hope. We were opening soon– I should focus on making my entrances, not making friends.
But then I saw her again.
This time, it was half an hour before the curtain went up for our invited dress rehearsal. The press was there. I was nervous. I knew I had my part down, but when you’re doing a show, no matter how prepared you are, there’s always the lingering fear that you’ll freeze up, forget everything, and ruin everyone’s hard work. It just means that you care. I was surprised that I cared so much. I still didn’t even get the play. I couldn’t let the other girls see me weak. I barely show my real feelings to people I care about, much less mean actresses who look down on me. To get away from it all, I wandered down to another unused part of the stage: the orchestra pit. We did have music in the show, but the Greeks didn’t have orchestra pits. So it was closed off, being used as storage.
I loved it down there. I loved looking through the storage bins, finding props from long-forgotten productions– sometimes I would find something incredible, something I swore was from the day the theater opened, something old and valuable– and usually, I could never find it again. Those bins were a treasure trove. Of all the weird little spaces I found backstage, the pit was my favorite. I felt like a real explorer down there, illuminating my path with my phone flashlight, getting spooked when a mouse ran over my foot (of course the theater had mice, it was more than a hundred years old! And besides, every building has mice in New York City).
That day, I wasn’t there to look around. Just to sit. Just to catch my breath. I tiptoed down the creaky steps, and plopped myself on the ground, surrounded by bins. I inhaled and exhaled, smelling the mildew-y scent of old props on every side of me. And that’s when I heard a noise. Not a mouse noise– I was used to those. Something bigger. I turned my phone flashlight on immediately, calling, “hello?”
And the light landed on a mask, just like mine. Mine which was currently off, because I was doing my breathing exercises. I felt exposed– she could see my face, but I couldn’t see hers. I stood up. “You scared me!”
She didn’t respond. She looked at me for a second, and started to retreat the other way, towards the stairs at the other side of the pit.
“Wait!” I called. “I won’t tell anyone I saw you!”
She stopped for a second. But then she kept walking. I stood and followed. “Please stop. Can I at least know who you are? I don’t fit in with most of the chorus girls–”
I reached for her long white toga. I swear, I had it in my hand, but somehow, she slipped away. I staggered a bit, almost tripped, confused that I hadn’t made contact with her costume. And when I looked back up, I only saw a glimpse of her disappearing up the stairs. I tried to follow, again, but I found that side of the pit’s stairs reached a dead end. I didn’t understand how she’d gotten out. And when I looked back down at my phone, it was time for places. Disappointed and defeated, I rushed away to the other stairs, making my way to the stage right wing to wait for my entrance.
I counted heads immediately when I arrived. Maybe she hadn’t made it back yet. But, alas: twelve. All accounted for. I nudged a girl next to me, subtly. “Who was the last one here besides me?”
She just stared at me for a moment, which came off as very creepy through the blank dead stare of her mask. “How the fuck am I supposed to know? We all look exactly the same.”
I sighed. “Okay. Thanks.” For nothing, I thought bitterly.
The invited dress went well. The press liked it, as I’ve already said. I was distracted the entire time. After that day, I made it a habit to count all the girls when the stage manager called for “places.” If I was right about this girl, she, like me, would be one of the last, if not the last one there. She would be wandering, exploring, getting away from the bullies.
I wish I hadn’t done this. I wish I’d given up when she disappeared on a dead-end staircase. I wish I’d never seen her on the catwalk. Because when I started counting heads, I noticed something impossible. Sometimes, before we went on, I counted thirteen identical masked faces.
It was a chorus of twelve. It was supposed to be twelve. I’d recount. Recount again. Thirteen. A chill went down my spine. We all looked the same. Same masks, same togas, same wigs. Who was the imposter? How could anyone be an imposter? It didn’t make sense. How would they get into the theater? How would they get a costume?
I started counting more often. Between scenes, in the dressing rooms, even on stage during dull moments. It fluctuated. Sometimes I’d count twelve for a whole day, an entire show, and sigh in relief, feeling like some curse was broken. But the next day, at least once, I’d count thirteen.
And it seemed as if one masked pair of eyes was always trained on me. I don’t know how she knew it was me. We looked the same. But she’d stare. It felt scary, but also ridiculous– I couldn’t be sure it was the same person looking every time. I couldn’t be sure it was unlucky number thirteen. But I felt like it was.
I felt a lot of things. I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone. The other girls already didn’t like me– I couldn’t have them thinking I was crazy. And admitting the presence of the thirteenth would mean admitting to my adventures into forbidden backstage areas. I couldn’t lose this job. I was living paycheck to paycheck. I wasn’t eating well, or sleeping well– maybe this was all a hallucination. And somehow, my biggest feeling was that if I told someone about the thirteenth, I’d never see her again.
And I needed to see her again. The obsession had only gotten stronger. I knew, somehow, deep inside, that she was the one I had seen on the catwalk and in the orchestra pit. I no longer wanted to be her friend– I wanted to corner her. To ask who she was, and why she was sneaking in as if she was one of us. I wanted to ask what she wanted from me.
Because she must want something from me, right? Why else would she stare? Why would she appear only to me?
The timing never lined up. The show had opened at this point, and I had a job to do: delighting the audience. I couldn’t skip my entrance to catch number thirteen. The chorus formations would look ridiculous with a missing person. And as much as the other girls hated me, I owed it to them as my costars to make them look good.
Logically, I knew there was only one person the thirteenth could be: Catalina, the actress I’d replaced. She must be jealous of me. Bitter. Maybe she wanted to take my role, like I’d taken hers. It would be insane, but it was all that made sense. She was the only other person who had the costume, who knew the keypad code to get into the theater. She must have recovered from her fall and come to find me.
It was almost like a game. It definitely made the show more interesting for me. Before I realized what was happening, I dreaded performances. I felt stupid, taking on this role in a show I didn’t even understand. But now I had so much to do. I had to plan.
I started showing up early, an hour before my call time. I walked my old spots, thinking I may see her. The other chorus girls were impressed that I was showing up early, thinking it showed some sort of dedication to the show. I think they even started to hate me less. They still detested any attempts at conversation in the wings, but in the dressing room, I started to have a few breakthroughs. In particular, I started a semi-friendship with Erin. Ironically, she had been one of the three women I thought may be the thirteenth, until I realized the thirteenth wasn’t really one of us at all.
She was the only person who I could actually ask about Catalina. “Did she ever say anything about the theater? The building, I mean? Did she have a favorite part of it?”
Erin would laugh at my seemingly random specificity. “We weren’t close, Michelle. I have no idea what she thought about the theater.”
“What did she do on her breaks?”
Erin thought for a second. “I don’t know. I never saw her at the vending machines, or the dressing room. I guess she found some quiet place to run lines.”
That confirmed it, for me. A quiet place like the catwalk. Or the orchestra pit. We were three weeks into our five week run when I came up with a plan to catch Catalina. It wasn’t a great plan, and I had no idea if it would work, but showing up an hour early every day was making me tired and producing zero results. I needed a new strategy. I realized that after seeing her in the pit, I only ever saw the thirteenth when all twelve of us were together.
So I told a white lie. One night after the show, when everyone was changing in the dressing room, I appealed to my fellow chorus girls. “Are you guys busy before the show tomorrow?” I innocently asked. “I’m feeling a little shaky on some of the entrances. If we could all get here just twenty minutes before our call time tomorrow, I’d love to run some stuff with you guys. I’ve been running it on my own, but without the entire team, I don’t always remember where I fit.”
To my surprise and intense joy, everyone agreed. They really did seem to respect me more when I looked like I was taking my role seriously. I could barely sleep that night, I was so excited to see if my plan worked. And hey, if it didn’t, I had two more weeks of shows to think up something else.
It was a Sunday night, our last show of the week. Mondays are often “dark days” in professional theater, meaning there are no shows that day to give the team a rest. I had planned this on purpose– if I failed, I had a dark day to reflect on that failure and try again.
At 5:40, twenty minutes before our call time, all the girls were assembled and in costume. We started running entrances. After ten minutes, I thought my plan had failed. We had run our first three entrances, and I never counted more than twelve heads in the wings. But around 5:55, as we got to our entrances in act two, offstage, I locked eyes with a mask. A thirteenth mask.
I quickly told everyone “I think I got it, you guys, thank you so much for coming early!” Everyone mumbled that it was no problem, that they were happy to help.
The thirteenth mask broke eye contact with me, looking around in confusion– perhaps distress. The girls started to trickle back towards the dressing room. The thirteenth turned and power-walked away. I shoved through the crowd to catch her, not calling out like I had in the past. I knew she didn’t respond to that. I knew I had to catch her now or never. Once we were out of the crowd’s eyeline, I began to run. She ran, too. “You’re not getting away this time!” I yelled, like some kind of cartoon superhero. My adrenaline was pumping, and blood rushed to my ears.
After I yelled, I suddenly became aware of another set of running feet behind me. “Michelle? Where are you going?” It was Erin’s voice.
“Don’t follow me!” I hastily called back, picking up speed. The thirteenth also picked up speed. Though she was running just as fast as I was, she showed no signs of exertion. I couldn’t hear heavy breathing, or heavy feet on the floor. It was like she was gliding. It infuriated me.
Erin didn’t let up. “Michelle, the stage manager is gonna wonder where we are!”
I ignored her. The thirteenth rounded a corner, and I realized where she was going: the catwalk. The ladder.
She ascended the rungs rapidly, like a spider. I clamored up much less gracefully. Erin’s voice had a heavy tinge of concern. “Michelle, what are you doing?! It’s not safe up there!”
“Then don’t follow me!” I yelled back, exasperated. “This is between me and her!” Despite my vocal warning, I heard Erin climbing behind me.
Once on the metal rail, I looked both ways, terrified she’d escaped me again. But her white toga was just a few feet away, retreating into darkness. I lunged at her. The entire catwalk shook. The thirteenth and I both grabbed the railing to steady ourselves. We met eyes. Or rather, we met masks.
“You have nowhere to go.” I stated.
I heard Erin reaching the top of the ladder behind me. “Michelle, come down, please. You’re scaring me.”
“I can’t. I finally have her.” I took a step towards the thirteenth. She took an equal and opposite step back. “Take the mask off.” I beckoned her. “I know it’s you, Catalina.”
I felt the rail shake slightly as Erin got on it. “What are you talking about, Michelle?!”
“She’s been sneaking in, Erin! She’s been standing in the wings with us before we enter! For weeks!” I took another step towards the thirteenth. In my peripheral vision, I could see how high we were above the stage. Thirty feet. You could die, falling from that height.
“It’s not Catalina. It can’t be. Stop this.” Erin called. Finally, frustrated, I turned towards her.
“Who else could it be?!”
Erin had taken her mask off. Her face was streaked with terror. “Catalina died, Michelle. She fell off this catwalk, directly onto her face, and she died. Please come down with me. I don’t know who you’re talking to, and I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it isn’t worth it.”
“What are you talking about? I’m talking to–”
I turned back, and she was gone. Vanished like a bad dream. “I swear to God, Erin.” I started to say. “She was right in front of me. I chased her here–”
I turned back to Erin. The thirteenth was behind her.
It made no sense. Nobody can move that fast. Nobody can be in front of me one second and behind me the next. It was inhuman. I stopped speaking. I stopped breathing. It sucks to learn that in a fight-or-flight situation, my answer is to freeze.
Erin must’ve seen how my face changed. “Michelle?” She asked quietly. “What’s wrong?”
Behind her, the thirteenth raised a hand to her mask. Her hands were impossibly pale. How had I never noticed that before? She gripped the mask in her hand. Time stretched. It must’ve only been a second, because Erin didn’t move. But it felt like years of my life passed me by as the thirteenth, inch by inch, raised her mask from her face. Or– raised her mask.
Because there was no face.
Under the mask, pale and gruesome, was a bloody flat edge. Broken, disgusting, it was impossible to make out eyes, or a nose, or a mouth. Inside a somewhat face-shaped frame of stark-white skin, all I could see was flesh, red and raw, squished in on itself. Like someone had fallen from a very high height. And landed on their face.
By the time I finally began to react, it was too late. The thirteenth– or, Catalina– or, the ghost, or– whatever the fuck that thing was. It moved its hands from the mask to Erin’s shoulders. And it pushed. And she screamed, agonizingly loud, as she flew over the side of the railing. And she screamed for the second or so she was in the air. I was screaming, too. And after the crunch of her body hitting the wooden floor of the stage, everyone else screamed, cast and crew alike.
I stared down at her limp form from thirty feet up. Her legs were twisted the wrong way. A pool of blood began to seep out of her. When I looked up again, I expected the thirteenth to be gone, but it wasn’t. With no eyes, it was also looking down at Erin. At what it had done.
And then, slowly, it turned towards me. On all fours, backwards, I scrambled away from it on the catwalk, terrified, not wanting to be next. The thirteenth’s shoulders shook rapidly, like a person laughing. But it made no sound. It never made a sound. Not going up the stairs of the orchestra pit. Not when it pushed Erin. And not as it climbed back down the ladder, rung by rung. I found myself alone on the catwalk.
Erin survived, somehow, paralyzed from the waist down. Apparently she fell on her legs, which, when you’re falling from thirty feet up, is a good thing. If she’d gone down head first, there was no chance. The show had to close, of course. When they lost Catalina a few weeks into rehearsal, she was replaceable. But with me refusing to go on, and Erin in the hospital, there was nothing to be done. I haven’t seen Erin since that day. I feel too guilty. But I was never arrested, so I guess she told the authorities that I didn’t push her. I don’t know what she told them. I don’t know what I would’ve told them, had they asked me.
I don’t do stage plays anymore. The family I used to nanny for gave me a star-studded recommendation, and now I make my living taking care of a five-year-old and a two-year-old for another filthy-rich family. I still act, but I only audition for film work.
I don’t even see plays these days. I won’t set foot in a theater. If the thirteenth had vanished off that catwalk, maybe things would be different. Maybe I could chalk it up to an extreme hallucination, some terrifying creature my mind brewed up to cope with the stress of the show and paying rent. Maybe I could even forget its bloody mess of viscera in the vague shape of a face.
But I saw it go down that ladder. Rung by fucking rung. And I know it’s still out there.
Erin was unlucky. Erin was a victim of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. And if I step inside a theater again, some way, somehow, I know the thirteenth will get me on another catwalk.
This time, I’ll be the one going over the railing.
And I’ve never once landed on my feet.
submitted by dollcollective to nosleep [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:25 Dephi_Apollo Volume Pedal help - Korg Kross 2

Hi all,
I am attempting to do a setup for my schools show. I have Korg Kross 2, an audio interface and a Boss FV-50 pedal.
I can not for the life of my get MainStage to recognise the pedal. I been plugging the Boss into the pedal port and then selecting various functions in the menu, but no matter what I select, it will not show up on MainStage.
Any help would be appreciated.
submitted by Dephi_Apollo to mainstage [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:25 jordan7580 Sort me out with a method I guess ?

This place literally filled with bullshit, y'all wish you wanna die this and that, bla bla and shit . I'm actually gonna do it . Any painless method? Because I'm actually scared I survive from 100 alprazolam pills . Its 4:17 am rn , about to sleep . I'm alone at home tomorrow and gonna pop 100 xannies but I'm so used to xans and have a tolerance that's very high so really scared I might survive , anyone know of any painless ways or methods? Like besides shooting yourself and shit I don't have a gun, something realistic. And I also don't want to use no knives , thought about stabbing myself in my head but I'm also scared I survive and go braindead or some shit .
So any painless? Quick ways ? Best ways and shit ?
Will read comments when I wake up
submitted by jordan7580 to SuicideWatch [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:24 Kandoo85 Juggernaut Version 2 Release

Juggernaut Version 2 Release

https://preview.redd.it/b8eay9krai4b1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=ac932473398240a8508947338eff0ab4ed8777d9
Hi :),
today i want to show you my new Release "Juggernaut Version 2"
For Version 2 i merged Juggernaut 1.9 with my new trained "Work in Progress" Model. Right now the trained model hit the 50k Steps Milestone but is still not ready for a Standalone Release (i will release it right after its finished :) ) . But a Merge with Juggernaut 1.9 was Stable enough to present you as the new Update :)
For the next Updates i am gonna focus on training/updating my new trained Model. Right now the focus is on more Realism and Lighting. I am planning to get it done in the next 2 Weeks, right after that i wanna focus on Hands.
I upscaled the example image with "True Enhancer" on Dreamwalker . But of course you can use any other upscaler out there. For the Workflow just look at the CivitAi Page, i post all my prompts and settings there :)
submitted by Kandoo85 to StableDiffusion [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:24 BlaireInPink Message notifications in Emails for Onlyfans not getting received??

Hey all,
I posted this before but I needed to fix the title and add stuff so I reposted😊
I’ve had this problem for a while now. My message notifications aren’t showing up in my emails so I have no clue when a fan messages me. All other notifications come through to my emails like when someone tips me but not messages. I’ve tried emailing OF and they were no help. I’ve turned on and off notifications and still nothing, I’ve checked spam folder and it’s not in there either I’m not sure what’s going on??
Anybody having the same issue??
submitted by BlaireInPink to CreatorsAdvice [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:24 Fuzzy-Cow-6012 we found the real map of amarca

submitted by Fuzzy-Cow-6012 to map [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:24 Ok-Construction-4542 One Last Plea to Production: not filming right now is HUGE MISTAKE. HUGE.

By now we know that the last five minutes reveals something about the affair timeline. Which basically-Ariana and the cast have said-who cares, it changes nothing. If they hooked up at Coachella-who cares. It only adds a few months of mindfuckery and tbh does show that Raquel and Sandoval conspired to cover up their affair with Schwartz. Okay, yeah, we already know. That Raquel broke her engagement off for Sandoval-okay, a little more shocking, but we just get more James tears and mindfuckery. BUT!
Neither of these likely scenarios would stop the cast from signing on for another season. So VPR production has shot themselves in the foot-why not get the cameras rolling RIGHT NOW to capture the cast’s reaction to this revelation in real time??? Why not start now? Like? There’s no way they’re not all coming back so why not carry the fallout into the next season to give themselves guaranteed ratings and help foster a storyline for next season? They already missed Scheana and Ariana pitching at the Padres’ (would have been cute,) missed all the cool brand deals Ariana is getting, missed some more SAH build out, James touring around-I mean?? If production has a thought in their brain-and we know they read Reddit-they would rush cameras out today!!
submitted by Ok-Construction-4542 to vanderpumprules [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:24 imafrickengoof 23 M / EST / Anyone wanna nerd out about games/anime or just talk about life?

Hiya! I've posted here before but I wanted to try again! As the title says I'd love to just be a total dork and talk about a buncha different series I'm into! I'm moreso a nintendo junkie, but I also do enjoy a decent amount of PC games!
To list a few: League, Risk of rain, TF2, Helltaker, Hades and a bunch more! I'd also love to hear about different takes on anime/manga! If I might pique your interest, in terms of takes, here's one of mine: I think Oshi no ko is good, but I don't care about the main plot! Blasphemous I know since everybody and their mother loves it, but I feel nothing for the main driving plot of the show so far (Not spoiling just in case someone hasn't watched it or plans to) I'd love to hear other takes cause I certainly have more of my own!
We could also just talk about life as a whole! What motivates you? What's been bothering you? Why do you feel X feelings for a certain person in your life? Do you genuinely feel happy about your life? I'd love to hear different stories as we get to know each other!
submitted by imafrickengoof to MakeNewFriendsHere [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:24 aek0988 Pretty sure I have OSDD type 1

I have been waiting for something to explain how I don’t feel like I have full on DID, but someone else might be in here with me.
For 1-A, I feel sometimes that I’m not completely there, almost as if someone is talking for me while I focus on movement. It’s like a sort of brain fog that I just can’t get over. I also typically get this feeling when I’m in a high stress situation/im overwhelmed.
For the 1-B part, I only have mild amnesia of my childhood. !!TW FOR MENTION OF SA / COCSA!! >! I was sexually assaulted by one of my friends when we were kids. She would make me look at her genitals and then make me show mine. !< I think this is where I developed a partial split/alter. We’re so blended though, I can’t tell the difference or if there even is someone else truly here, and it explains why I don’t have much amnesia.
Feels nice to finally have something to bring up to a therapist (when I actually have one again lmao). It explains so much.
submitted by aek0988 to OSDD [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:24 Mid-Missouri-Guy How does r/AskALiberal feel about the arrest of Damon Atkins in Pennsylvania?

On the morning of 6/3 in Reading, Pennsylvania, a pride rally was occurring outside the city hall. Across the street were a handful of protestors standing with various religious signs, with at least one individual preaching out loud for approximately 10 minutes before being told to stop by police.
Damon Atkins arrived where the other protestors were across the street with a sign that read “Jesus said go and sin no more”. Atkins can be heard in the video shouting a few times at the people across the street some sort of statements about God, I can’t hear exactly what he said but it didn’t sound like a threat of violence. Within 60 seconds, Atkins was placed under arrest by police for disorderly conduct and was escorted away from the event while the crowd cheered.
A video that shows the entire interaction as well as the probable cause affidavit written by the arresting officer is at the bottom of the news story.
Link to news story
How does AskALiberal feel about this arrest?
submitted by Mid-Missouri-Guy to AskALiberal [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:23 NovaTheMighty Heads up: June 12th protest of Reddit's API changes.

Heads up: June 12th protest of Reddit's API changes.

This subreddit will be joining in on the June 12th-14th protest of Reddit's API changes that will essentially kill all 3rd party Reddit apps.

What's going on?

A recent Reddit policy change threatens to kill many beloved third-party mobile apps, making a great many quality-of-life features not seen in the official mobile app permanently inaccessible to users.
On May 31, 2023, Reddit announced they were raising the price to make calls to their API from being free to a level that will kill every third party app on Reddit, from Apollo to Reddit is Fun to Narwhal to BaconReader.
Even if you're not a mobile user and don't use any of those apps, this is a step toward killing other ways of customizing Reddit, such as Reddit Enhancement Suite or the use of the old.reddit.com desktop interface .
This isn't only a problem on the user level: many subreddit moderators depend on tools only available outside the official app to keep their communities on-topic and spam-free.

What's the plan?

On June 12th, many subreddits will be going dark to protest this policy. Some will return after 48 hours: others will go away permanently unless the issue is adequately addressed, since many moderators aren't able to put in the work they do with the poor tools available through the official app. This isn't something any of us do lightly: we do what we do because we love Reddit, and we truly believe this change will make it impossible to keep doing what we love.
The two-day blackout isn't the goal, and it isn't the end. Should things reach the 14th with no sign of Reddit choosing to fix what they've broken, we'll use the community and buzz we've built between then and now as a tool for further action.

What can you do as a user?

  • Complain. Message the mods of /reddit.com, who are the admins of the site: message reddit: submit a support request: comment in relevant threads on /reddit, such as this one, leave a negative review on their official iOS or Android app- and sign your username in support to this post.
  • Spread the word. Rabble-rouse on related subreddits. Meme it up, make it spicy. Bitch about it to your cat. Suggest anyone you know who moderates a subreddit join the coordinated mod effort at /ModCoord.
  • Boycott and spread the word...to Reddit's competition! Stay off Reddit entirely on June 12th through the 13th- instead, take to your favorite non-Reddit platform of choice and make some noise in support!
  • Don't be a jerk. As upsetting this may be, threats, profanity and vandalism will be worse than useless in getting people on our side. Please make every effort to be as restrained, polite, reasonable and law-abiding as possible.

What can you do as a moderator?

Thank you for your patience in the matter,
-Mod Team
https://preview.redd.it/5w3qgdtgai4b1.jpg?width=1116&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=41a30e651e8db05fff66aa577eb874093a2b332e
submitted by NovaTheMighty to CDInteractive [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:23 Durlag Booked Flight, Planning Now

Impulsive decision to fly to Switzerland and do this trek the standard counter clockwise out of Les Houches. Flying in Aug 16 and will hang around until Sept 8. I plan on bringing my tent and backpacking gear (not much) and I need to start filling my brain with all the essential information. Do you have to reserve every camp site beforehand or if I show up with boots and a tent will it be okay? Trying to find the best camping guides. Any and all tips are appreciated. Thanks!
submitted by Durlag to TourDuMontBlanc [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:23 Great-Plane-6671 Workplace issues piling up

I’ve been working as an advocate & therapist at a non-profit serving survivors of sexual assault and domestic violence for about a year — it’s my first job out of my MSW program.
At first, I was very pleased with and excited about the job. My supervisor said I would have a maximum caseload of 15 clients because she wanted me to do both case management and therapy and didn’t want me overworked. The organization is paying for my supervision as well as various trainings in EMDR, TREM, etc.
Some things have happened in the last few months that have bothered me, however.
It has taken basically the entire year for me to build my caseload and even with the caseload I have, over half cancel or no show. I am lucky if I see two clients in one day, which makes it difficult to stay motivated and plan engaging therapeutic activities. When I brought this up to my supervisor, she informed me that we have an open door policy and cannot terminate clients for no-showing. I understand the role that trauma and other various barriers (transportation!!) plays in preventing individuals from attending therapy, but it is frustrating for me nonetheless. I even asked my supervisor if we can offer therapy via video since we offer it over the phone, but she said our funding does not allow for that. ??
The same thing has happened with a support group I run. For a few months, I had about 3-4 regular participants but that number has dwindled down to 1 for the past two months. I moved the support group to evenings in order to make it more client-centered, but it still didn’t improve participation. I brought it up to my supervisor in hope that she would let me pause the support group indefinitely, but she only suggested I put together an ice cream social (which I ended up doing and only had 1 participant show up for).
We are also required to do an RA on-call rotation at our shelter usually once every 2-3 months. This primarily involves going in to work in the shelter if an RA calls off — this work includes cleaning shelter bathrooms and living areas, cooking meals, operating our crisis line, monitoring security cameras, etc. I feel that having advocates and therapists in this role is not client-centered at all. Although we are encouraged to schedule our on-call weeks lightly, I have had to cancel appointments with clients because I ended up getting called in; I have had clients drop off as a result. I have never understood why other RAs cannot be on call instead.
In addition, I have had multiple negative interactions with RA staff. During my last on-call week, I had an RA text me at 7:30 in the morning that she could not come in for her 8am shift. We have an hour to arrive at the shelter upon getting called in; I got there 15 minutes past this. Despite letting the RA working know as soon as I got called in that would not be there right at 8 and despite calling her at 8:30 to let her know I’d be there at 8:45, I got screamed at on the phone because she was going to miss her doctors appointment.
I have also had clients call the crisis line to cancel their appointments with me (not sure why but sometimes are phones can be glitchy), only to be notified of the cancellation by RA staff hours after the appointment was initially scheduled.
I have also begun to struggle in my communications with my supervisor. Since I was hired, we have met once a week for an hour to go over any questions or concerns I have. I recently planned to meet with her during our scheduled time but texted her that I was running a few minutes late — no response. When I got to her office, I was informed by another staff member that she was off that entire week on vacation. I did not get an apology and she proceeded to miss the following week’s meeting despite being in-office.
I also do not agree with our process of providing assistance items to clients. If I have a client that needs something as simple as laundry detergent, I can’t go to the store to get it for them; I have to send my supervisor an email memo requesting it. Often times, I also have to remind my supervisor to order the items, then wait 3+ days until the items arrive — all while my client goes without whatever they need that we could’ve gotten from the store that same day.
Despite having at least three bilingual staff members, my supervisor insisted that we hire a professional interpreter for me to work with a Spanish-speaking client because she did not want the survivor to feel uncomfortable with other staff knowing what she was sharing with me (that’s valid). However, it has been over 3 months and we are still waiting to get an interpreter. When I recently asked my supervisor about this, she said she missed a section of the application and needed to complete it before submitting it. In the meantime, a child who was sexually assaulted is going without therapy.
I recognize that every organization has its flaws, but I am troubled by these experiences and am actively looking for work elsewhere. I constantly wonder if I am allowed to be upset about all this, so I’m basically just hoping for some validation here. I’ve also really struggled to voice my concerns to my supervisor because I don’t want to seem negative. I am a new social worker and don’t want to act like a know-it-all, and I also wonder if bringing these issues up would make any sort of difference considering there’s a lot of them and there is not a simple solution.
submitted by Great-Plane-6671 to therapists [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:23 JihadiLizard thinking about carrying a .44 magnum.

i know this might sound ridiculous at first, but let me explain. i currently carry a glock 19, sometimes a glock 21 as my CCW. there’s nothing wrong with these guns as i practice with them consistently and love them. however i’ve had my eyes on a colt anaconda, with either the 6” or the 8” barrel. i have a decent amount of not so common firearms in my collection, and i’m a huge fan of them. albeit most are range toys, but i like them because of the cool factor. i would like to carry the colt anaconda on me, whether in a shoulder sling or in a crossbody bag. i just think the general idea of a .44 magnum being concealed inside of a crossbody bag is a pretty dope concept, and that’s why i’d like to potentially do it. i know that if i carried said firearm on me for practical use in a potential gun fight, i’d have to train with it and whatnot, which is perfectly fine. but what are your thoughts on this? just kinda curious as to what others think.
submitted by JihadiLizard to CCW [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:23 OpStorm-333 Why didn't Joel say more?

I don't hate the last of us 2 (mainly because of gameplay), but I've never understood why Joel didn't say more than "making a cure would have killed you, so I stopped them". He and ellie went through hell to get to the Fireflies all for them to throw him out on his ass, threatened to kill him for wanting to see ellie, didn't give him his guns, and didn't give a fuck about him. Surely she'd at least be a bit easier on him? He had nothing, he lost Tess, lost his business and was stranded on the other side of the country. Sure he could go back to Tommy (if he could make it), but then what? He finally connected with a daughter figure only to have her ripped away again? It seemed like they wanted Joel to be a deer in headlights, when he knew this day would come eventually, he's been stern with Ellie before, why not now?
submitted by OpStorm-333 to TheLastOfUs2 [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:23 syratlthrwawy Y'all are sleepin on Jamie XX this weekend...

Anybody going to his show? Tix were damn expensive but imho he's worth it. Have seen him at III points in Miami last yr and in NYC with FourTet and Floating Points.
submitted by syratlthrwawy to atlantaedm [link] [comments]