Tengo un deseo insaciable, desde muy pequeño me di cuenta de que me gusta golpear a los gatos, me da placer, hasta el punto de querer matarlos, pero cada vez que veo un gato (y peor aún si es pequeño) siento una ansiedad terrible por querer aplastarlo, no me pasa con ningún otro animal todo empezó cuando tenía 10 años en casa de un familiar y había un gato que merodeaba cerca de la casa, al momento de que me aseguraba de que no haya nadie alrededor mi corazón se aceleraba a tal nivel que sudaba como cerdo, lo golpeaba con tal violencia que no me entra en la cabeza como un niño de 10 años podía ser capaz de tales atrocidades, me siento muy culpable por ser responsable de la muerte de ese gato (o eso creo) no sé de donde vino tanta maldad a un niño de esa edad. Siento que ir a psicologos y tantas idioteces de esas no me sirven sienton que esos cabrones estan para juzgarme.

I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I can’t see my face in any of them but I genuinely do not hate what I see when I look at them. Also, being back at a low-ish weight now kinda sucks because I get cold easily and I can’t put my hand between my thighs to warm it up when I’m laying on my side.
Last night I had KFC and an ice cream, and by KFC I mean that I had a bread roll, small potato and gravy, large popcorn chicken and regular chips. I felt fine afterwards because I was at my friend’s house smoking weed, so I was distracted enough to not worry about it. After months of trying to get to where I almost am, it almost doesn’t seem worth it.
I also broke the rules again today when I bought more ice creams and some other snacks at the supermarket. Bought sushi for lunch as well and I was planning on having that and then some dry Crispix cereal after that, but I’m avoiding going downstairs because I’m not “properly hungry”, like my stomach isn’t making any noise or anything. But yeah. Not sure if I should recover but honestly I miss my old body. Even though I thought it was ugly at the time.
Thoughts?

conoci a una mujer que hace eso vive muy cerca de mi casa tiene un novio e hijos en su facebook pone fotos diciendo que lo ama, pero le gusta mucho tener sexo por dinero en otras palabras es una prostituta y si un hombre le gusta se le pega atras para acostarse con el, ella anda tras de mi para que me deje hacer sexo oral y que se la meta por detras me rebajo la mitad del precio, solo 5 dolares o una pequeña compra de comida, ella no tiene carencias economicas porque tiene un pequeño emprendimiento de venta de zapatos, no veo nada malo con que sea puta, solo me parece curioso el porque lo hace, si no lo necesita.

Hace dias vênia notando que una chica me vênia observando, tipo estaba entrenando y ella tambien, me fastidiaba algo, como una sensacion de estar siendo espiado, la cosa es que desde entonces note que se pone algo extraña quando está cerca de mi, como si estuviera incomoda, ella baja la cabeza y deja de reir cuando se pasa a mi lado y tambien baja la cabeza, es mayor y es muy notable, lleva a una amiga que siempre que estan juntas ella voltea para atrás cuando se ponen a hablar como si dijieran algo de mi o yo que se, pero nose, últimamente me siento extraño nose si no les agrado o es algo mas, tambien me dá coña hablarle, no soy tan sociable y po me caso si una chica me habla, y siempre que intento po suelo sonar algo cortante estropeando lá platica y todo eso, que creen que sea? Que la verdad me hace falta opiniones de mujeres y hombres... gracias

Hace dos días, experimenté algo bastante inusual. Estaba ensayando una declamación que tenemos preparado para el viacrucis de Viernes Santo dentro de una iglesia; el emplazamiento de la parroquia la compone una capilla, la iglesia y unos salones, dispuestos en dos pisos. Era ya noche, pasadas las 9pm en ese momento, todos los integrantes estábamos atentos al ensayo, era el turno de la persona que interpretará a la Virgen María. Estábamos conscientes que en la capilla estaba el padre haciendo una congregación, y en la parte arriba de los salones de dónde nosotros lo estábamos, estaba un grupo de mujeres, en una plática. No estábamos solos, y justo a la mitad del poema que estaba ensayando la intérprete, escuchamos unos gritos, eran guturales, graves como fuesen de alguien masculino, molesto como discutiendo, pero era una voz realmente macabra, desconocida, todos los presentes en el ensayo interrumpidos la sesión para corroborar si estaba pasando algo; nadie se divisaba al alcance, ¿Qué fue lo extraño? Los gritos provenían de arriba, así que echamos un vistazo desde abajo, observando el grupo de oración que estaba arriba, no se alcanzaba a ver a ningún hombre, lo cual, se nos hizo raro. El intérprete de Jesús y yo subimos a la segunda planta, nos cercioramos de que estuviera todo en orden, y, para nuestra sorpresa, solo estaba el grupo de mujeres, concentradas en su oración, no había rastro de una persona masculina que pudiera haber hecho esa voz que todos mis compañeros y yo escuchamos, y bastante cerca de nosotros, echamos un vistazo a la calle si no se escuchaba una discusión, pero tampoco hallamos nada, recorrimos la iglesia, que estaba vacía, hasta llegar a la capilla que seguían en su congregación, ¿Entonces qué rayos fue esa voz?. Regresamos al salón, para reanudar el ensayo del diálogo de Maria, que es un poema. Para nuestra sorpresa, siendo testigos de que en su declamación anterior a esto, recordaba la mayor parte de su poema, ahora se encontraba bloqueada, tratando de recordar su poema, intentó dos, tres veces simplemente no podía reclamar ahora... Hasta que decidió parar, todos los presentes estábamos desconcertados, inexplicablemente se le había olvidado lo que dijo ¿Habrá sido producto del susto el motivo de su concentración? Para darle vuelta a la página de lo ocurrido, decidimos retomar, y de pronto, fue mi turno de ensayar, yo que ya tengo mi poema estudiado también ahora me trababa, se me olvidaba, minutos de diferencia de haberlo interpretado, entonces en ese momento decidimos parar dando por terminado el fin del ensayo. Salimos desconcertados de ese salón, pensando en esa voz, varios de mis compañeros se notaban tensos, asustados, y todos con una interrogante en común: ¿Qué rayos fue esa voz? Tuvo algún efecto en nosotros, eso sin duda, ¿pero fue esa voz o algo escondido a través de ella?...

Part Six
We’d made it back through the maze of downtown to the side opposite from the gym, but it didn’t matter. Not only were the ones from the gym still after us, along with a few more dreamers they’d picked up along the way, but up ahead was another group of fifteen or so men and women were running towards us with impromptu tools and manic grins that both flashed murder with each bouncing step closer. They were practically skipping towards us as they guffawed and giggled, and it might have been funny if not for the dead ice in their eyes.
“Jesus. We…In here!” I’d spotted the garage door of an old-fashioned service station across the street—it was propped open a foot by a cinder block, and while it might have been a trap set to lure us in, I didn’t really think the people of Braxton had had the time or the sense to arrange it so quickly. These people…they didn’t move or look right, and not just because they were crazy and trying to kill us. They all looked off somehow. Maybe it was the way they moved, or the loose way the skin hung on their cheeks, even when pulled back with their fishhook smiles. They were becoming something different, though whether it was less or more, I couldn’t say.
All of those thoughts were in the back of my mind as we rushed over to the door and I tried to pull it up further for Mrs. Graves and Mr. Holliman to crawl under. The door only budged a few more inches before it let out a protesting rusty squeal and would go no further. Graves had already rolled through the gap, leaving a smear of blood in her wake, and Holliman was grunting as he sucked in his stomach and pulled himself past the door. Gasping with exhaustion and terror, I looked over my shoulder to see how far away the crowds were. The one cutting us off was still some distance away, though they were moving fast, but the ones behind us since the gym were thirty yards at most. I dropped to my belly and rolled through the gap, kicking the cinder block free as I went.
It all happened in a few harried seconds, but as I was getting to my knees I already realized the problem. The block had been so easy to kick away because the door hadn’t dropped back down when I let go to scoot under it. It was stuck, and as I stood up and started pulling on the other side, it immediately became clear that neither me nor Holliman’s frenzied yanks and kicks were doing much good.
“Back here! There are tires! Wedge them under!”
Mrs. Graves’ voice was soft but strident, cutting through my panic as I followed her words to the back wall of the garage. There were several stacks of old tires back there, including several truck tires big enough to block the door gap if put end to end. Holliman ran with me to the back, yanking tires down and sliding them across the concrete floor to jam them into the space between the ground and the edge of the door. They were on the other side, clawing and pounding and laughing their heads off as they told us to let them in, but either they didn’t catch on that we were plugging the hole they could crawl through or they just didn’t care. A couple of minutes later we had five tires jammed across the opening, with the last bit of space partially blocked by a heavy-duty hand truck we stuffed into the corner and ran through with chain to the last tire so it wouldn’t be easily removed.
Yet for all that, I knew it would only take a few minutes for the mob to dismantle our defenses, and that’s assuming they couldn’t force the door up themselves. I looked over and saw the same worries on the faces of Holliman and Graves.
She looked past me and nodded towards the far corner. “There’s a door back there. You better go close it in case they come in that way.”
Turning fast, I saw what she meant—an open door that seemed to lead to the store part of the gas station. Heart in my throat, I went to the door and peered through it. The store itself still seemed empty and intact, but I could see more and more people gathering outside. I jerked backward, afraid they might see me through the glass despite the darkness inside the store, but peeking back out a few moments later, there was no sign that they had. Still, they’d seen us go in here, right? Why weren’t they coming in after us?
Stepping back through the door and closing it behind me, I quietly slid over a mechanic’s creeper and propped it under the knob before turning back to my employers. Holliman had managed to tourniquet Mrs. Graves’ upper arm with her belt and bandage her forearm with a strip from his shirt, and while the strip of cloth was already turning red with blood, it was definitely an improvement from how she’d looked a few minutes earlier. Other, of course, from the fact that she looked as terrified as I felt.
I walked back over to them, keeping my voice low. “Why aren’t they coming in? There’s more around on the store side, but they weren’t even really looking in through the windows. It’s like they forgot we’re in here.”
Holliman grimaced and gave a nod. “That’s probably exactly what has happened. We need to be very careful to not make noise or let them see us.”
I frowned at him. “But how does that work? Are they like so crazy or brain-damaged that they don’t remember chasing us in here just now?”
Graves shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Based on what we’ve seen and what we know, they may be insane, but they retain a large degree of sophistication. I think this is just…well, a measure of protection we’re being provided by our service, even here.”
I felt a flare of anger at her carefully chosen words. “Oh, so more magic from ‘our service’? And what exactly do we serve again? Because I seem to always miss out on that part.”
Holliman started turning red. “Clint, now is not…”
I raised my hand and cut him off. “Fuck it. Just save your bullshit. You’re actually right. We’re about to die, and I’d rather focus on that not happening. Any ideas?” I glanced between the two of them. “Either of you?”
A look passed between them and then Holliman glanced toward the shadowy back corner of the garage. “I don’t think there’s another way out of here, but even if there was, they’d just be after us again as soon as we ran. But if they’re that discombobulated…Clint, how many do you think are out there right now?”
I shook my head. “Shit, I don’t know. There were probably thirty or forty following us, right? And another twelve or fifteen trying to cut us off.” I glanced back toward the store side of the gas station. But when I was closing the door I could see out the windows pretty good and…yeah, there are still more coming.”
Holliman fluttered his hand in frustration. “Yes, I understand. But how many? By your best guess?”
Scowling, I gave a shrug. “I don’t know. Probably a hundred or more if none of them are leaving again.”
He gave me a grim smile. “Good. That may be enough.”
“Enough for what?”
Wiping his forehead, he gestured up at the fluorescent light sullenly illuminating the dingy garage we were in. “Have you wondered about the electricity? Not every place has power it seems, but some do. And where is that coming from? Is there an active power plant within the bubble of this place, filled with giggling electricians and engineers that are keeping the lights on? Or are there power lines running outside the bubble to where time and nature move differently? Some kind of life line to the world outside this…” he waved around at the garage, his face contorted with disgust. “This insane hell?” He waggled a finger. “No. Neither. The thing that has taken this place and its people is keeping the lights on. Keeping the people asleep until now, feeding on their dreams and using a bit of that power to maintain certain things for whatever reasons. Perhaps to more easily lure in the occasional traveler, though that’s just a guess. And it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that it takes resources, and the more dreamers we take from it, the weaker it will become.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, no shit. But I don’t think these fuckers are going to let us get near them with the eyedropper. And they don’t look too sleepy either.”
Holliman started to give an angry reply when Mrs. Graves put a hand on his arm and my own. “When they were in that dream state, the Elixir was the only way to end that connection. If we had simply gone around and killed them, their deaths would have provided a powerful boost to this thing, perhaps more than just letting it feed on them until they could no longer be sustained. It would have been akin to a ritual sacrifice.”
I felt my stomach twist as I saw where this was heading. “And now?”
She let out a long, tired sigh. “Now? Now it has had to wake up part of them. Sacrificing the power of their dreams to create a standing army to eliminate a threat—us. Unless and until they sleep again, that power is lost.”
Holliman cut in. “And if you’re right, and there are a hundred or more out there, and given those we’ve already dosed, we could move past the breaking point in one fell swoop.”
I stared at her. “You’re talking about killing them, aren’t you? Murdering a hundred people.”
Graves shook her head. “No. Not murder. Self-defense. They will kill us eventually, and in horrible ways. This place…we’re trapped here. Hard as it may be to hear, it’s going to be either them or us.”
Holliman snorted. “Enough of this. We can moralize after we’re no longer in danger.” He pointed to the abandoned sedan sitting in the far corner of the garage. “Clint, go look for gas and oil. If you can’t find much, see if you can syphon some from that car. I’d guess we’ll need at least twenty gallons to spray them all down.”
I backed up a step. “What’re you talking about? You’re going to walk out there and what? Spray them down with oil and gas and set them on fire?”
He chuckled. “No. That’d be suicide. Don’t be an idiot.” He pointed to a skylight above the sedan. “I’m going to have you pry that open and we’ll go onto the roof and spray it down on them. If we’re careful and they don’t see us, they may just let us do it until it’s too late. But first you need to find something liquid that will burn.”
I looked back at Graves. “And you’re okay with this?”
She looked on the edge of tears. “I’m not okay with any of this, but we don’t have a choice. We have a job to do, and they will kill us otherwise. Please Clint.”
Holliman looked ready to argue further, but I cut him off. “Save it. I’m doing this because you’re both right, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”
He nodded. “I appreciate that. I feel the same way. Will you please go find us some flammables while I stay with Gracie?”
“Sure…I…yeah, sure.”
The garage was big enough to hold two cars at a time, but with only the one slot occupied, I didn’t think there’d be much to really search. Most of the walls were lined with tools, and there were miscellaneous pieces of equipment along the perimeter, but it wasn’t until I started around the car that I saw something of interest.
It was a pair of feet.
I let out a gasp and started to back away, but something stopped me. This…wasn’t right. The feet were laying at a weird angle and looked…lifeless. Taking a couple of steps forward, I could see more of the man’s body.
He had clearly been dead awhile, though it was to tell how long in this place, and it wasn’t hard to see how he’d died. A box cutter still lay clasped in his withered hand, stained from the gash he’d put in his own neck at the end. I thought about the cinder block at the door and wondered if he was the one that had put that there, maybe hoping someone else would come along and rescue him for a time before he gave up hope.
Tears springing to my eyes, I looked over at his other hand. It was a plastic grocery bag, and inside were the dried ruins of what had probably once been half an ice cream cake, along with plastic plates, candles, and other party supplies. Jesus. This looks like he was going to his kid’s birthday party.
I stumbled back a step before my eyes caught on a large metal drum in the corner. Black painted letters were stenciled along the side, with the first line saying “50 gal”. Below that, was a longer line. “Waste Oil.” Stepping cautionly by the poor dead man, I gingerly rocked it. It felt most of the way full. Sighing, I looked back down at the birthday bag.
When I came back around, Graves and Holliman were looking at me with expectant desperation. I nodded. “I found a drum back here. I think it has like thirty or forty gallons of old oil in there.” I threw a small plastic bag at Holliman’s chest. Flinching, he fumblingly grabbed it and looked at it before giving me a sullen stare.
“Party balloons?” His face split into a grin as he began to laugh softly. “Oh, I see. Yes. That should work well. Yes, yes.”
“Yeah. Let’s just…let’s hurry and get this done. Come help me get the barrel out.”
Easing up from his spot next to Mrs. Graves, he bustled over past me, still chuckling. “Sure thing, chief. Time for a fire tonight!”
Frowning at him, I turned to look back at Graves, her eyes wide and more fearful than when we’d barely escaped the mob outside. She was mouthing something to me, lips trembling as she tried to enunciate each word clearly across the shadowy space.
"We’re…losing…him."

Muchachos, quizás este no es el mejor lugar para pedir ayuda, pero estoy desesperado. Soy muy joven, tengo 17 años, actualmente ando estudiando en la u, y siento que soy un muchacho sano, cero vicios, me la paso estudiando, hago hasta un poco de ejercicio. La cosa aquí es que la situación en mi casa es fatal, fuera de que no estamos en la mejor situación económica, mi papá no hace nada por mejorar el ambiente. En particular le encanta insultar y tratar mal a mi mamá por cualquier cosa. Él siempre fue un hombre muy cascarrabias y hasta llegó en un momento dado a maltratar muy feo a mi madre. Ella no se independiza porque siempre fue ama de casa, estudio hace mucho tiempo, y tenemos una hermanita muy pequeña de 10 años). No tengo abuelos ni muchos familiares cerca con los que acudir e irnos, salvo una tía de la que no termino de confiar totalmente. Lo único que me queda es matarme estudiando y apenas conseguir un buen trabajo salir con mi mamá y mi hermana.
Les juro que a veces lo odio. Últimamente está súper odioso. Y aprovecha cuando yo no estoy para decirle cosas a mi mamá. Es un hombre muy agresivo, siempre se pone a la defensiva con cualquier reproche, por lo que sé que dialogar con él sobre esto es pelear.
Deseo el día que tenga el poder de largarme e irme a vivir feliz con mi mamá y mi hermana. Yo siento que mi mamá está en un periodo depresivo por todo esto, no lo sé. Mi papá no valora la familia que tiene.
Perdón por todo este texto, enserio estoy desesperado. Cualquier consejo, lo que quieran decir, se los agradezco. Muchas gracias.

So basically, I have been working on this map for about 3 months at this point, I intended to release it eventually and now that the map is almost complete, I decided to release it so that it could be useful to you guys in the meantime. I just discovered this server, so I decided to release it here. I am currently working on the RTP routes to the best of my ability and this map will likely be done within 2 weeks.
Básicamente, yo he estado trabajando a completar esta mapa hace 3 meses, Yo intento de mostrar el mapa eventualmente, y ya que el mapa es cerca de completar, Yo he elegido en mostrar el mapa al publico para que el mapa podría ser util a ustedes. Yo acabo de descubrir este server, así que decidí mostrar el mapa aquí. Estoy completando todas las rutas del RTP al mejor de mi capacidad y es posible que pueda ser completo en 2 semanas.
No usado mi español mucho hace 4 años y eso es el razon que mi español no es perfecto.
Map(a): https://www.google.com/maps/d1/edit?mid=14dHMWfrSWeA7QLXPqsUvpf7A-wpI8yQ&usp=sharing
Edit 1
Fuentes/Sources:
Mapa Red de Rutas RTP (cdmx.gob.mx)
Red de Servicio (cdmx.gob.mx)
Mexicable 2, Linea Verde
(THIS MAP DOES NOT INCLUDE PESEROS OR MICROS/ ESTE MAPA NO INCLUYE PESEROS O MICROS)
Edit 2
When I finish creating all the RTP routes I will make a new map to show what the system of transport will look like in 2040 as outlined in the Plan General de Desarrollo de la Ciudad de México 2040. It will be shared in this post as well.
Cuando termino con las rutas del RTP, haré nueva mapa para mostrar que parece el sistema de transporte en el año 2040 como detallado en El Plan General de Desarrollo de la Ciudad de México 2040. El mapa nueva estará en exacto lugar que el primero mapa está.
Edit 3
Thanks for getting this post to 1,000 views. / Gracias por conseguir este post a 1 000 visitas

Yo estaba en la casa de mi tía, sentado en el sofa de la sala usando mi celular como es de costumbre, mi tía me había mandado a mi y a mi prima menor a pagar la luz, yo había aceptado ir ya que no tenía nada que hacer en ese momento, fuimos a una tienda que quedaba cercas de su casa, cuando llegamos nos atendió un chico como de 17 años, media aproximadamente 1.80 o eso a mí vista, tenía aspecto de una persona amable y buena onda, y como era de esperar, nos atendió muy amable y agradable, yo sentía algo raro en mí al escuchar su voz, no era un sentí recurrente en mí, pero lo deje pasar ya que no se me hizo importante. Al llegar a la casa, yo estaba algo emocionado por el chico que había conocido, mi madre me había preguntado que si porque está tan entusiasmado, algo que se me hizo raro es que me dijo que si había conocido a algún chico, lo raro era que ella es un poco homofobica, y se lo había tomado con mucha calma, pero aún así asentí con la cabeza afirmando su pregunta, mi madre justo después de saberlo me pregunta si que si quería volver a verlo, ya que tenía que comprar algo ella también, yo le respondí que si con una sonrisa en el rostro, fuimos a nuestra casa por dinero, ya que quedaba detrás de la casa de mi tía. Cuando llegamos a la tienda, al parecer estaba toda la familia del chico atendiendo la tienda ( conformada por su madre que parecía ser muy amable, su padre que era algo guapo, su hermana menor que era muy bonita a primera vista y su hermano menor que era muy bonito en sentido de que parecía un niño guapo ), ya que si había una fila un poco larga, así que nos tocó esperar, yo estaba pensando en minimo pedirle su número para conocerlo, así que saque mi teléfono de mi bolsillo y aliste todo para solo marcar el número y que sea más rápido, ya que soy una persona algo tímido. Cuando faltaban una dos personas yo me estaba muriendo de nervios, así que me salí de la tienda a lo que mi madre me persigue, me preguntó con una voz triste que si porque había salido si ya quedaban pocas personas para que nos atendiera el chico, yo le dije que no podía acercarme a él ( así de suficiente era mi vergüenza, ya que había tenido problemas con otros chicos en otras ocasiones ), mi madre me acaricia la espalda tratando de animarme cuando llega un señor que se parecía un poco a mi bis abuelo que ya había fallecido, el nos pregunta que si que hacíamos afuera con este frío ( ya que eran tiempos de invierno ), muy amablemente nos invitó a pasar a su casa que casualmente era parte de la tienda, pero mi madre le dice que yo esperaba pedirle el número a "una chica" ya que no me quería sacar del clóset con el señor, el señor de alguna manera sabiendo de quién se refería nos pregunta ¿desde cuándo "Mark" es una chica?, de repente solté una sonrisa porque al fin sabía su nombre, el señor sonriendo me dijo que le debería pedir su número e invitarlo a comer ( cómo si supiera que quería hacer ) de cualquier forma si me aceptaba o no podríamos ser amigos, yo sentí una gran ilusión dentro de mí, así que me arme de valor y entre a la tienda de nuevo con mucha valentía, cuando nos tocó que nos atendieran de nuevo, ya no estaba Mark y la que nos atendió fue su hermana menor, la madre al verme desilusionado nos ofrece a mi y a mi madre pan de elote ( gratis ) que había en el mostrador, mi madre acepto y le agradeció, mi madre compro lo que quería y ya hibamos a salir de la tienda, yo estaba muy desilusionado con una cara triste, al cruzar la puerta siento que me jalan del brazo, me volteo para ver Mark, yo solté unas lágrimas al verlo, el me dice espero volver a verte y me abraza, ese abrazo duro mucho para mí, pero de repente sonó mi alarma marcando las siete en punto de la mañana..todo había sido un sueño, tenía lágrimas en mis mejillas, ame tanto ese sueño, quisiera que volviera a pasar para volver a ver a Mark. Lo raro fue que se me había sido muy largo ese sueño y también que mi madre me había tratado demasiado amable. Pero yo les pregunto ¿Esta mal enamorarse de alguien en un sueño?

I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I can’t see my face in any of them but I genuinely do not hate what I see when I look at them. Also, being back at a low-ish weight now kinda sucks because I get cold easily and I can’t put my hand between my thighs to warm it up when I’m laying on my side.
Last night I had KFC and an ice cream, and by KFC I mean that I had a bread roll, small potato and gravy, large popcorn chicken and regular chips. I felt fine afterwards because I was at my friend’s house smoking weed, so I was distracted enough to not worry about it. After months of trying to get to where I almost am, it almost doesn’t seem worth it.
I also broke the rules again today when I bought more ice creams and some other snacks at the supermarket. Bought sushi for lunch as well and I was planning on having that and then some dry Crispix cereal after that, but I’m avoiding going downstairs because I’m not “properly hungry”, like my stomach isn’t making any noise or anything. But yeah.
Thoughts?

So, long story short, my wife and I are taking our son down to my mom's house for part of Spring Break. There's a sushi restaurant in a city nearby my mom's, but it's about 20 minutes away. My plan is to stop at the restaurant, buy a bunch of sushi and then bring it to her house. But I know that raw fish probably shouldn't be sitting in a warm car for that long. I have some reusable "ice" packs that supposedly can be frozen below 32 deg. I figured I would put them in a cooler, wrap them in a thick towel and put the sushi on top. My main concern is keeping it out of the "danger zone" as much as possible.
I will be ordering the following: Salem Roll (tempura roll with avocado, cream cheese, and imitation crab stick with spicy mayo and eel sauce on top), California Roll, Philly Roll, Calamari, Sesame Balls (obviously those will be fine) Seared Salmon Nigiri, Inari, Avocado/Cream Cheese Roll and Salmon (raw) Avocado Roll.
Lastly, I don't think my mom would be able to meet us at the restaurant, I think her truck is still in the shop, plus it just doesn't make sense logistically...
Thanks in advance

https://app.roll20.net/lfg/listing/365308/genova-nocturna-vampiro-edad-oscura
MUY BUENAS. Mi nombre es Leo y soy un GM Profesional de múltiples sistemas D&D, Llamada de Cthulhu, Soulbound, Wrath & Glory, pero my primera introducción a Vampiro (y al mundo de las tinieblas, en general) fue con V5. Aunque al principio me gustó bastante y lleve un par de juegos (uno casi de más de 40 sesiones), las limitaciones impuestas, la falta de contenidos y la comunidad en general me echó para atrás. Empecé a investigar la edición anterior, v20, y me enamoré de la edad oscura. Hay mucho jugo en este sistema y me parece, en general, mejor que v5 en todos los aspectos.
La campaña ha sido creada con un sistema un tanto cambiado en base a las reglas principales. Aunque he intentado recompilar todo en la consiguiente lista, es probable que se me escapen cosas, pero como vereis, los cambios realizados al sistema, son, en su majoria pro-jugador, es decir, a favor de los jugadores y no en contra.
​
Pero dejame que te cuente sobre el tema de la campaña. Año 1327, Genova, Principado de los estados italianos. La segunda más rica de entre ellas y puede que de toda europa, la republica de Genova destaca por su involucramiento como poder marítimo, comercial y politico, situado cerca de francia y fuertemente alineada con roma (y por lo tanto, el vaticano), los vampiros que habitan en la ciudad sobreviven con un sistema único en el mundo de las tinieblas. Agarrandose a los vestigios de sus vidas mortales, los cainitas se subdividen en familias nobiliarias poderosas, con dinero, influencia y considerables números de cainitas a su nombre. Estas familias superceden la lealtad de los clanes y de las tradiciones, prefiriendo mantener y compartir el poder sin ningun principe a la cabeza. Eso no quita que las estrategas, maquinaciones y puñaladas traperas no esten a orden del día. Vosotros sereis uno de ellos, trabajando con vuestra propia familia para lograr vuestras ambiciones y, quizás, alterar las dinámicas de poder de la ciudad para los siguientes siglos... o morir en el intento.
​
Hay solo un puesto libre, empezando con la sesion 0 este sábado 1 de abril, la idea es a partir de esa sesion jugar una vez mensualmente. Si estais interesados por favor, contactadme por discord: Le0rocan#6037

l. El Llamado
Más que un escrito en forma de evidencia de los sucesos vividos en esta ciudad, escribo esto como un escape, llevo muchas horas aislado, he sido llamado loco tantas veces que ya no sigo la cuenta. Que esto sirva de advertencia para cualquiera que encuentre este escrito.
Lo vi en mis sueños. No hay otra forma de decirlo. Lo vi en mis sueños llamándome. Aunque no pude escuchar nada ni disipar ningún olor familiar en mi sueño, sabía que alguien me llamaba. “¡Ven Oscar!” o más bien un “Sígueme Oscar”, se sabía mi nombre y eso fue suficiente para despertar mi curiosidad. Ahí entre los arboles de lo que parecía ser un pequeño pueblo en la frontera de una ciudad, era de la dirección de donde venía el llamado. No lo escuchaba, lo sentía.
Cuando desperté de aquel sueño, un vacío enorme en el corazón me invadió. Como cuando pierdes algo muy importante y no lo puedes encontrar o no puedes recordar donde lo dejaste. Esa era la clase de sentimiento que me había dejado aquel sueño.
Mis días siguieron su curso natural, aunque el sentimiento nunca dejó mi cuerpo, de hecho, me atrevería a decir que con cada día que pasaba se hacía aún más fuerte. Aun así, yo no era nadie estúpido, ni mucho menos. Madre no me habría permitido empezar a holgazanear en la escuela.
Pasaron los años, me gradúe de la universidad con un título en ingeniería y fui recomendado e invitado a ir a una universidad fuera del país. Pero no podía abandonar mi lugar de origen aún, había un lugar más que debía visitar, o más bien, un llamado que debía responder después de 6 largos años.
Para ese punto, yo era alguien miserable. Enfrente de las caras de los vecinos, amigos y familia yo era un genio, la “persona más lista del mundo” decían. Pero cuando entraba a mi cuarto, todo cambiaba, el sentimiento que me invadió aquella noche era tan fuerte ya, que me costaba respirar. Se me hinchaban los ojos de tanto llorar por la noche mientras veía el techo, intentando pensar en otra cosa.
Pasaba todas las noches tratando de reprimir el sentimiento. “¿Qué madre si me ve así? ¿Pensará que estoy loco? ¿Tienes 24 años y aún lloras en la cama?” eran las cosas que me preguntaba a mí mismo para ahogar el llanto, sin ningún resultado exitoso.
Si me preguntarán ahora mismo que fue la gota que colmó el vaso para mí, diría que fue el mismo día que recogí mi título. El dolor en la cara de fingir sonrisas todo el día. El dolor de contener el dolor en el pecho de la desesperación. Era absurdo, inhumano. Nunca había escuchado algo así, estuve a punto de visitar un psicólogo a escondidas de mi madre una vez pero… “¿Cuál hubiera sido el punto?” me pregunté. Era una enfermedad mental de la que yo siempre supe la cura. Fui encerrado en una jaula por seis años junto con la llave que la abre. La única solución era visitar aquel lugar del que nunca pude olvidarme.
​
ll. Visitado
Aunque mi madre y amigos me cuestionaron varias veces, yo no pude explicarles por completo lo que pasaba, para ese punto, sentía que cargaba con una reputación de genio que debía mantener. Y aunque mi explicación fue vaga y sin sentido, ninguno de mis amigos o mi misma madre se paró a cuestionar mucho lo que decía que iba a hacer.
“Un viaje corto, eres joven, ve y domina el mundo”
Fueron las ultimas palabras que me dijo mi madre antes de partir.
Tome la camioneta e hice el viaje hacía la frontera de la ciudad.
Había mucha niebla cuando iba de camino, no recordaba ver en ningún pronóstico que habría neblina, está sorpresa casi me hacía dar la vuelta pero, el dolor en el pecho no me dejaba. Imaginar lo difícil que sería volver a la cama e intentar dormir me mantenía manejando.
Mientras atravesaba el bosque fronterizo uno de esos ataques fuertes en el pecho me atacó de nuevo. Pero era aún más fuerte que ninguno que hubiera tenido antes. Baje de la camioneta y me recosté en el pasto al lado de la carretera, tratando de calmar la respiración intentando replicar una de esas técnicas de respiración de internet que parecen nunca funcionar. Y así fue como lo encontré, a mi izquierda, entre los árboles, se hallaba la misma imagen que vi en mis sueños. Los mismos árboles, todo posicionado exactamente como lo había visto en mis sueños.
Tomé mi linterna y mi mochila y empecé a caminar hacia el bosque en dirección hacia donde escuchaba el llamado. De alguna forma, sabía que estaba donde debía estar. Sin mapa y sin guía.
Caminando por el bosque un poco y siguiendo un camino fantasma que solo había visto en mis sueños eventualmente dando con una estructura en ruinas. Una casa en condiciones no habitables. Habían tablones de madera columpiándose del techo a punto de caerse, los cristales de los ventanales estaban roto y la puerta entreabierta con moho, como invitándome a pasar.
Empecé a caminar y entre a la casa, y sin darme cuenta, mi dolor se había ido, por completo, no había realmente ninguna forma de comprobarlo, pero era la primera vez en muchos años que me sentía libre de esa cadena que me mantenía atado a ese sueño.
Caminando un poco más por la casa di con un cuarto cerrado, era el único lugar de la casa que no contaba con la energía natural de la estructura, en lugar de invitarme a pasar, era como una advertencia.
​
lll. En lo profundo
Abrí la puerta poco a poco, sabiendo bien que lo que hacía no era la decisión correcta. Y para mi sorpresa, lo que había detrás de la puerta no era un cuarto completo, sino un pequeño almacén con una escalera de mano algo larga. Las barras de la escalera se veían oxidadas y en general, en muy malas condiciones.
Empecé a bajar la escalera, esperando que lo que hubiera allá abajo le pusiera final a mi historia, como cerrar por fin el capítulo de mi vida en el que los sueños toman el control de mi vida.
La escalera empezó a tambalearse, y uno de los barrotes donde tenía mi pie se rompió sin aviso, dejándome caer el camino abajo.
Por suerte, ya no quedaba mucho camino de bajada y solo resultó en un pequeño golpe. Cuando me levanté pude ver lo que parecía ser un túnel estrecho desigual que parecía guiarme metros más abajo. Mientras lo atravesaba pude ver como las imperfecciones del guijarro y la tierra comenzaban a desaparecer poco a poco. Dejaba de parecer un túnel hecho por una persona, sino por un grupo de minería experimentado.
De pronto, el silencio fue interrumpido por un grito de lo que parecía ser un niño pequeño, que se encontraba mucho más profundo dentro del túnel. Apresure el paso, los gritos se hacían más largos y fuertes.
Al final del túnel fue la primera vez que lo vi, no un niño, sino una masa de personas pegada a la pared. La masa tenía dientes, ojos, brazos salían de la masa, como intentando aferrarse a las paredes del túnel para no ser consumidos completamente, pero ya era imposible.
Cuando apunté mi linterna aterrado hacia la masa, todos los ojos apuntaron en dirección a mí. Todos me miraron de pies a cabeza, no pude evitar quedarme congelado.
Una vez los ojos terminaron de verme, las bocas en el lado de la masa donde me encontraba empezaron a gritar, todas en la misma frecuencia, podía escuchar las diferentes voces que venían en la masa, pero era como si todas se hubieran convertido en una. Ya no eran su propia persona, ya eran parte de la masa en el túnel.
Los gritos me hicieron caer de espalda hacía atrás del terror. Nunca podría haber imaginado lo que estaba viendo aquel día. Empecé a arrastrarme lentamente de espaldas sin mover la mirada de la masa que parecía estar moviéndose violentamente en respuesta a mi presencia.
La sensación del terror a la masa tratando de alcanzarme si alejaba la mirada de ella es una que no podría olvidar por mucho tiempo. Sin embargo, la masa tenía otros planes. La masa empezó a formar un agujero en sí misma, los ojos y las bocas que gritaban empezaron a deformarse para dar lugar al agujero de carne que se formaba en el centro de la masa. Los huesos empezaron a tronar y los gritos se empezaron a intensificar.
Cuando me pare aterrorizado y pensaba en echarme a correr por donde vine, una voz me detuvo.
— ¡Espera! —. Dijo alguien.
No era una voz, mis oídos no habían captado ningún sonido, era algo que se había comunicado conmigo a través de otro medio del que yo no conocía.
Cuando volteé de nuevo en dirección a la masa, vi una imagen horrífica, sangre caía de la masa junto con dientes. El agujero en la masa se había terminado de formar.
Una sensación en mí, al igual que el agujero, se había terminado de formar, una sensación extraña, la de ser observado por alguien, pero intensificada, algo que estaba mal, algo que estaba fuera de lugar en el universo. Algo que no debía estar pasando y no estaba en su lugar.
Un ojo gigante se asomaba del agujero que se había formado en la masa, no era natural, se veía dañado, las venas rojas del ojo parecían estar muy marcadas, incluso varias se veían reventadas. Todo acerca de aquello que vi estaba mal. El ojo veía más de lo que yo creía, podía ver dentro de mí, podía ver lo que pasaba por mi cabeza.
— Acércate Oscar, termina la historia Oscar. Deja de decepcionarlos Oscar —. Me decía la criatura de nuevo por una línea de comunicación inexistente.
— ¡Nos necesitamos del uno al otro Oscar! Ninguno de los dos vivirá por mucho si no te me unes. Así que suelta esa linterna y úneteme pronto.
Mientras corría en dirección opuesta pude descifrarlo, esa línea de comunicación que el usaba, fue lo que me había encadenado a él durante esos años. Me ha estado atrayendo aquí para consumirme, y casi lo había conseguido. Como una fuerza que me empujaba dentro de la masa, por años.
Subí por la escalera, sin poder sacarme los gritos inhumanos de mi cabeza, escale rápido y con cuidado de no caer de nuevo, la escalera se tambaleaba, pero soportó justo lo suficiente para dejarme salir al almacén y después fuera de la casa.
Subí a mi camioneta y conduje fuera del lugar.
lV. En el mundo de los sueños
Mientras conducía la cadena volvió instantáneamente, y apretaba con fuerza. El dolor en el pecho volvió de golpe e hizo que mi camioneta patinará sobre la carretera y tirándome por una colina donde la camioneta se revolcó conmigo adentro.
Después de lo que parecieron unos veinte minutos, recobre la conciencia, la camioneta estaba de cabeza y salía humo del capo. Abrí la puerta del conductor que por suerte no estaba atorada, y tratando de salir rápido de la camioneta sentí el dolor en mi pierna, como un dolor frío que no concordaba con la temperatura del resto de mi cuerpo. Mi pierna estaba rota.
Me arrastre lejos de la camioneta tan rápido como pude, hasta que la luz del pequeño fuego empezó a iluminar los alrededores. Me recosté en el costado de un árbol y desde ahí a unos metros de la camioneta pude ver como de las llamas salían brazos. Los gritos volvieron a escucharse. Y volví a recibir su llamado.
— ¿A dónde vas Oscar? ¿Ya olvidaste lo que te espera en casa? ¿De verdad crees que podrás volver a tu cama y dormir? ¡Úneteme Oscar! ¡Quédate aquí conmigo! ¡Perteneces aquí!
Sin darme cuenta, lagrimas salían de mis ojos y no podía pararlas, empecé a gritar por ayuda. Pero era poco probable que alguien pasará a esas horas de la noche.
Las llamas del auto se expandieron provocando una pequeña explosión que hizo que desapareciera el monstruo. Poco después caí inconsciente del cansancio.
Cuando abrí los ojos, ya no estaba en el bosque, sino en una camilla del hospital de la ciudad. Mi madre sostenía mi mano y parecía estar dormida en una silla al lado mío. Ella notó rápidamente que desperté y me abrazó con lágrimas en sus ojos.
— Por fin despertaste…
Me sentí seguro en los brazos de mi madre, como un niño pequeño. Me puso al tanto de la situación, y de lo que había pasado.
— Me alegra que por fin seas tú mismo. No podía soportar verte llorar mientras dormías.
Esas palabras de mi madre fueron suficiente para regresarme a aquella casa en medio del bosque. Suficiente para ponerme al corriente de nuevo, no había escapado de la cadena de mis sueños. Seguía ahí, y nada había cambiado.
Empecé a rogarle a mi madre en lágrimas que por favor me sacará del lugar y nos fuéramos de la ciudad. Me había cansado de fingir, incluso si los decepcionaba a todos, incluso si destruía la imagen que todos tenían de mí, ya no podía hacer nada por mí mismo, si seguía así, la próxima vez que esa cosa me intentará llamar sabía que lo conseguiría.
Mi madre se asustó con lo que le decía, como cualquier madre hubiera hecho, y tuvo que hablar con gente en el hospital para conseguirme un tratamiento especial. Días después. Ella dejo de visitarme.
Por las tardes, un psicólogo me visitaba y hablaba conmigo. Yo trataba de explicarle la situación, intentando disfrazar los detalles ridículos para que me tomará enserio, pero aun así, mi historia no contaba con mucho sentido. “Una experiencia traumática” , “Ataques de ansiedad”, sus diagnósticos no me decían más de lo que yo ya sabía desde hacía mucho. La única cura que había para aquello que tenía. Ya la conocía yo.
Por las noches, ya era imposible dormir, no podía cerrar mis ojos y no ver aquella masa en el fondo del túnel, esa masa que me miraba y me hacía llorar por las noches. “Voy a morir” me decía a mí mismo, así acaba mi historia.
V. Decepcionados
Después de 4 meses, mi madre hizo caso de mis plegarias y un día sin aviso volvió y me sacó del hospital, solo dios sabe con cuantos médicos tuvo que pelearse para que me dejarán salir.
Me llevó fuera de la ciudad, a una casa alejada de nuestro hogar. En el camino me fue contando como la familia había cortado con ella, poco a poco todos empezaron a distanciarse de ella. Nadie quería cargar con el peso de saber lo que me pasaba y aparentemente se habían cansado de escuchar a mi madre llorar por 4 meses.
“Me quede sola Oscar”
Los siguientes días a ese no fueron menos depresivos. Pasaba los días llorando ahora las veinticuatro horas, lagrimas salían de mis ojos constantemente. La mirada de mi madre ya no era la de una madre, era la de alguien cansada, alguien que empezaba a morir por dentro. Alguien que se convertía en un saco de huesos que la vida cargaba solo por el hecho de vivir.
En mi cara ojeras profundas empezaron a formarse, mi pelo empezó a tornarse blanco del estrés que pasaba constantemente, cada vez más cerca de la locura, hasta que un día ni un solo cabello de color negro pudo verse entre todas las canas de mi cabeza.
Los dolores en el pecho no habían mejorado, la medicina del psicólogo me calmaba un poco pero, habría un día en el que ni las medicinas me ayudarían a controlar esos dolores. Y moriría.
Los llantos de mi madre fueron lo que casi destruían la única fortaleza que me quedaba. Esos llantos de decepción desde su cuarto. Cuando volvía ella de trabajar se encerraba por horas en su cuarto a llorar, al principio, ella trataba de ocultarlos, pero con el pasar los días, dejó de hacerlo. Ese llanto de decepción, lo que me mantuvo aterrado toda mi vida estaba ahí. Los había decepcionado a todos.
Empecé a considerar el suicidio. Tenía ya un lugar fuera de mi casa que a veces visitaba, un escondite debajo de un puente que no es frecuentado, podría colgarme ahí. Nadie se enteraría y mi madre sería libre.
La noche antes del día planeado, mientras estaba sentado en una mecedora en el balcón de mi cuarto. Sin darme cuenta, cerré mis ojos. Y cuando los abrí, desperté en aquella casa en la frontera.
Trataba desesperadamente de abrir la puerta de la entrada principal pero estaba atascada, no cedía, y la puerta del almacén que contenía las escaleras era golpeada desde adentro. Esa cosa venía por mí, lo había conseguido. Me había traído hasta su casa.
Rompí la ventana en un intento desesperado y cortándome las manos con el cristal roto, pude sentarme en el marco del ventanal. Detrás de la puerta del almacén se escuchaban gritos.
— Hazlo, hazlo, hazlo, hazlo, hazlo…
Pero había algo extraño, la altura no coincidía, si me tiraba por esa ventana… Moriría de la caída…
Cuando abrí los ojos, estaba sentado sobre el barandal del balcón de mi cuarto, nunca había salido de la casa. Había estado soñando.
Los golpes en la puerta era mi madre intentando entrar al cuarto cuando vio que intentaba tirarme del balcón.
Me aleje del balcón y abrí la puerta a mi madre quien me abofeteo tan pronto me vio. Con lágrimas en sus ojos me dijo.
— No te atrevas a dejarme sola Oscar, no te lo permitiré.
Esa noche, como de costumbre, tampoco pude dormir.
​
Vl. Al final del túnel
Esa cosa, quiere que me mate, vendrá por mi cuerpo si es necesario. Tan pronto como mi madre se deshaga de mi cuerpo sin vida, el vendrá y lo sumará a su colección. No puedo suicidarme.
Lo que parecía una teoría, pronto fue confirmado por la masa, que volvió a hablar conmigo.
— No tienes a donde ir Oscar, hazme un favor y tírate de una buena vez por ese balcón. ¡Igual como hizo tu madre! JAJAJAJA.
Cada noche. Después de que mi madre se suicidará. El me llamaba para reírse de mí. Estuvo observando todo el tiempo. Pero había cometido varios errores.
Ahora que sabía bien lo que quería, no me puedo morir, esa cosa arruinó mi vida así que ya no tengo nada más que perder. No voy a morir hasta que el muera. Ninguno vivirá por mucho sin el otro, ¿cierto? Bien, pues no voy a perder, voy a vivir hasta verlo morir.
Los decepcione a todos al final.
Si alguien encuentra esto, aléjate del llamado del bosque, se fuerte, no tengas miedo a pedir ayuda. Y te deseo una buena vida.

Regresando al tiempo presente, les tengo unas preguntas. Nunca se han preguntado porqué a Azalia todavía no la han encontrado? Nunca se han preguntado cómo llegaron a saber quienes eran todas las victimas de Naason para mandar al consejo y a Joram Núñez para que las callara? O quién dio la orden para que escondieran a Becky, Yareth, MJ, Karina (Ana Karina), Ishah, etc. O quién dio la orden de mandar a quemar la evidencia de la oficina de Naason al igual que en su casa de la Bethel para destruir las pruebas de los abusos que cometía NJG? Nunca se han preguntado quién ayudó a poner en su lugar como vocero a Silem García? O porque Leonardo Baltazar el pedofilo violador que tiene acusaciones en chile, sigue como el Encargado de la segunda iglesia más grande de lldm, La Bethel, después de 5 años? Cómo Mizraim pasó de un encargado ordinario a ser pastor? O porque toda y digo TODA la familia de Azalia y hasta la de su esposo están “bien paradas” en lldm?
Azalia era una de las únicas que conocía a cada una de las victimas, porque por medio de ella se agendaba la oficina para las fiestas sexuales y los bailes. Susana solo llegaba a limpiar el cochinero que quedaba, como la chacha y de pedir como siempre pizza Halcón. Y Alondra era a la que Azalia mandaba a que le comprara su ropa junto con Dina Trejo y su hija, las dos de el Este LA. Aunque pues la hija de Dina también se la pasaba entre GDL y Los Ángeles porque su esposo Jasiel Alegria era el chef all star de Naason en la casa grande, que de hecho Naason hizo que se fuera de Los Ángeles a Mexico cuando el sabía que no tenía papeles y que no iba a poder regresar, para que después el mal agradecido de naason, lo mandara a la goma por alguien más. Ya saben, lo típico.
Silem, Hamlet, Israel, y todos esos polítiquillos eran cercanos a Azalia por ser best friends de su esposo Gadiel. Victoria García que trabajaba en las finanzas de Naason, también la puso Azalia, pues era su comadre de Torreón. Leonardo Baltazar tiene la seguridad de decir “a mi nadie me quita de la Bethel”, porque como se convirtió en el padrino de Azalia cuando era pequeña pues ella lo respalda. Las hermanas de Azalia, María José y Leonor también gozaron de las bendiciones sexuales con Naason. Y también por lo mismo María José “MJ” como le decían, trabajaba también en finanzas y Leonor como recursos humanos de la casa y oficina de Naason. El papá de Azalia, Javier, lo mandaron a la obra, obviamente cerca de la provincia, en una iglesia que daba buena asignación ($) y la maestra Roció era la que le revisaba y corregía los estudios a naason para sus presentaciones apostolicas. Y como olvidar a Mizraim Rangel, el único hermano de Azalia. El arquitecto, autor de construir el cuarto o calabozo sexual para Naason en su oficina, similar al “red room” de 50 sombras de grey. El que colocó el sillón de Kamasutra en el cuarto de Naason. Mizraim pasó a ser un simple plebeyo a un encargado al que a los 2 o 3 años le dieron el Pastorado, nunca tuvo que ser diácono, y mas importante, notablemente nunca tuvo trayectoria como otros ministros que merecían ese grado y nunca lo obtuvieron. Después de tanto tiempo Azalia sigue prófuga y de seguro, utilizando el dinero de las cuentas de banco que tiene Naason en países considerados paraísos fiscales, como lo es Suiza, la única que tenia acceso a ellos, era ella, ya ni los hijos de Naason, mucho menos su esposa gozaban de esos privilegios.
Esta es la persona a la que deberían de estar usando todos sus recursos las autoridades por encontrar. Esta es la cómplice principal de Naason que mientras que Naason está preso es la que está controlando a la iglesia. Esta pedofila criminal debe ser hallada y llevada a la justicia. ¿Como es posible qué hay videos de ella violando a menores de edad y ella sigue libre?¿ Como es posible que ella siga cometiendo crímenes al obstruir la justicia, destruir evidencia, intimidar victimas, y seguir libre?
Todo esto mencionado nadie me lo contó, yo lo sé.
¿Azalia, Azalia, donde estas? Ya no te tenemos miedo, ya estamos hablando y contando lo que haz hecho y sigues haciendo. Tarde o temprano te hallaremos, ya estamos cerca.

EncuentrenalacriminalAzalia

"Picture-perfect Sheen"
​
Ahoy, cringe crew! Sorry it took so long to get this part out. For a while, the world has had me feeling like a pair of leggings your mother, in her infinite wisdom, bought for you, two sizes too small. Because it is perfectly reasonable to assume that your rear end remains as flat as a declined credit card all the way from your mid-teens to your late 20s. In other words, I was stretched too thin. My mind and body are both grateful for the rest I got, but I can’t let those cringe muscles atrophy any longer! Let’s do a small warm up and a few stretches with the familiar…
​
CAST LIST
Sheen Beard: Since our theme this time around seems to be exercise, it’s impossible to not liken Sheen to a dumbbell. Besides the obvious connection between the aforementioned doodad’s name and Sheen Beard’s glaring lack of perceivable intelligence, Sheen’s also very heavy to carry through the game of life. Unlike the dumbbell however, he takes up an unreasonable amount of storage space, is a health hazard to anyone in the near vicinity, even when he isn’t dropped on someone’s foot, and drools on himself.
Peach: Sheen Beard’s baby daughter and the only reason I put up with Sheen’s presence in my life. She’s like that scoop of ice cream that motivates you to do one more sit up, after your muscles are ready to quit on you.
Mora: That’d be me, your Op. A pair of arm floats, meant for children, being used by far too many grown up people at once. Blub…blub… blu-
​
Are we ready? Aaaand lift!
​
So, I had spent some of my Christmas budget on buying little Peach some much needed, casual clothing, because her delusion decomposed dad would rather provide his toddler with diamonds than the daily essentials. I know the dresses got worn, because they were present in a couple of photos Sheen spammed me with during his “I am going to be a professional photographer” phase. His prized subject of course, was his daughter. “Aww that’s so sweet”, you might think and I would agree with you, except he-… You know what? I think we need to ease into the cringe here. It has been a while after all, and nobody should kickoff with a full sprint on a treadmill. Easy does it, from mildly annoying to frankly disturbing.
Many first-time parents go a bit “look at my baby/isn’t my offspring just amazing” crazy. They’ll send photos and videos to their friends and family, gushing over how little Timmy managed to not eat more than half a crayon today and what a genius he is proving to be. The rest of us may not be quite as charmed, but that’s fine. I am happy when a child is getting love and positive attention from their kinship. Sheen Beard however, had this annoying habit of sending me myriads of pictures without a single word attached to them. Then he would get all indignant when my mind reading skills were out of commission, and I failed to guess their “obvious” context. Truth be told, Sheen still holds onto this habit, like a junk food addict holds onto the belief that the single wilted piece of lettuce between his latest Big Mac, counts as a salad.
I think that Sheen’s insistence over that others should know what he means or thinks, without so much as a half passable attempt at communication, may be connected to his inability to partake in reality. He’s like a child, before it develops the ability to comprehend that other people are separate entities, and that their feelings and knowledge are not derived from his oily orifices. Not to mention that we continue to exist, and carry out our lives beyond his immediate field of perception. This could also go onto explain, why in the past 10+ years, he has been comically incapable of grasping the fact that our geographical locations place us on nearly opposite time zones. No matter how many times I remind him of this, he cannot seem to retain the information for longer than a day. Perhaps, if we were to dissect Sheen Beard’s head, we’d find a lone gold fish, swimming upside down in a rhinestone encrusted fishbowl that’s half full of cheap beer.
Speaking of fish, Sheen (of course) kept constantly angling for compliments on his almost artistic photography. He went over the usual phase of using black and white filter, but then revolutionized the medium by allowing random pieces of the picture to remain colorized. Let me tell you, the photo manipulation executed clearly matched the effort he put into his personal hygiene. After I realized that his main reason for sharing the photos was not to gush about his daughter, but to get praise for his “skills”, I changed gears. Instead of calling the photos themselves nice, I firmly stuck to saying things like “Peach looks happy. That’s good” or “She seems to grow so quickly” and refused to acknowledge his attempts at baiting me into imparting undue praise onto him. Unsurprisingly, this cut back the number of photos I received in the future, which I cannot claim to have left me too crestfallen.
Now the disturbing bits... Despite of being denied the right to turn Peach into a child model, Sheen Beard created an Instagram for her. I hold a distaste towards social media like this, and so never visited the page. Whiff (Peach’s legbeardy mother) forced Sheen to shut it down, after finding out about its existence. We could discuss the sheer stupidity of exposing your child to all kinds of stalkers and creeps by displaying them online. I have read about maybe a dozen cases, where the child abductors found their victim’s pictures on social media and locked-on. It’s truly terrifying to think about. What makes it worse is when I went to check Sheen’s current social media for the purposes of this story, I found out that he’s kept at taking photos of his daughter. No, taking photos of your daughter isn’t bad on its own, but quite a few of them are swimming suit photos. These are posed pictures, not ones where she’s just Peach playing on the beach. They’re not explicit mind you (if they were, I’d have hunted down Whiff’s contact info, sent every last one of them to her, and told her to contact the courts), but they did make me feel a little fearful on Peach’s behalf. It’s frustrating to see that after years of trying my hardest to get Sheen to form some semblance of rationale, he is still completely comfortable as a self-made moron.
​
Alright, you have been waiting for this long enough. Sheen’s short rapper career! During the previous parts, you have observed Sheen Beard engaging in a multitude of pursuits, in both business and most recently “art”. You know how those exploits went. Please, adjust your expectations accordingly.
I first heard about Sheen’s song writing aspirations, when he was still with Rose. He mentioned in passing about his dabblings in poetry and the written word in general. Not once did he attempt to share one of his works with me however, and I wasn’t foolish enough to expose my eyes to them out of my own initiative. So alas, I hold no knowledge of their merits or lack thereof.
A few years down the line, after Whiff left him, Sheen told me that he had been channeling his feelings about the break-up into music and shared with me some super-secret information. He had managed to land a recording contract with a local label! I congratulated him, surprised by the sudden development in his life, but also glad he might have found a healthy outlet for his emotions.
Sheen then hit me with another surprise. As he knew that I work with my voice, he wanted to offer me a chance to sing backup vocals for him. I admit, I was a little intrigued and even flattered. Work experience is incredibly valuable, and adding something like that into my portfolio could help me find better gigs in the future. I had never heard Sheen sing a single note before, but I supposed that him having vocal talent wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.
I did have some concerns over the lyrics Sheen may have written though. The source of his inspiration being a very nasty breakup with someone I still considered a friend could result in some discomfort. To not get caught in an awkward position, I asked him to send me some of his songs to listen to, before I’d commit to anything. I also noted to him that I wasn’t so sure the recording label would be happy with vocals that weren’t recorded under their studio conditions. Sheen went on a tangent promising me that he’d get me a part for sure! I thanked him for his generosity, but said I still needed to hear his work first. He promised to send me a demo soon.
Weeks passed. I asked for the demo a couple more times and each time was given some random excuse about him not having the demo on him at the moment. I wasn’t too surprised. Sheen had never been the reliable type and him not following through was in line with his character. Besides, for months our communication had mostly consisted of me listening to his bottomless complaints about his constant custody drama with Whiff. The formerly engaged, now estranged couple were taking jab after jab at each other. Each trying to drag the other’s already questionable reputation through a mud wrestling pit. I didn’t expect Sheen to have ample time for musical pursuits in the midst of their battles, so I stopped thinking about Sheen’s promises, and slowly grew numb to the incessant drama. Then one day, my inbox let out a familiar “blob”. It was Sheen Beard.
Sheen: Hey Mora! Can I ask you for a musical opinion?
Mora: Sure
Was Sheen finally ready to share the demo with me? Due to knowing the creature I was dealing with, I decidedly did not get my hopes up. I waited for his music related question for a while, but it never came.
Two days passed, before I heard another “blob”
Sheen: Sorry things got wild. I had an emergency hearing. I had false child abduction charges against me. Whiff tried to go for full custody and deny me visitation. She also made me take down Peach’s Instagram and denied acting and modeling from her through the court!
Mora: I see. So, a normal Friday then?
Sheen: lol I got four songs and my album cover done
Sheen posts a picture of himself and Whiff kissing outdoors and a photo of Peach blended into the background sky. The picture has been put through a filter to make it look hand drawn.
Sheen: I will send you the demo when I get home
I looked at the picture with a dull expression and rubbed my temples. Here we go again…
Mora: You do know that you cannot use that picture for your album, right?
Sheen: Yes I can
Mora: It’s kind of illegal. Unless you have Whiff’s permission, you cannot use a picture of her.
Sheen: Why is that? There is no frontal view, no identification. Persons and photo is owned by me.
Now, I have no clue what he meant by the last sentence’s “persons”. To be honest, the entirety of the last message is barely comprehensible to me even now. On that day, I was not in the mood for such nonsense, and simply tapped the table before me impatiently… with my face. Whiff’s full profile was perfectly visible in the image. Sheen wouldn’t listen to me though. Whiff and I hadn’t spoken in months. The record label (assuming there even was one and they had SOME professionalism) would have to take this one..
Mora: I recognize her, but I won’t butt in more. Not my problem.
Sheen: But is it nice?
I routinely dodged Sheen’s plea for compliments on a picture, but replaced it with encouragement to share the demo. I was morbidly curious to see what kind of a musical mess he had created.
Mora: I hope you won’t get in trouble. I’m sure the demo is great. I’ll take a moment with it tomorrow.
Sheen: Still in rough sketch. Gotta actually record. I got the beat and the lyrics for 3 songs and lyrics for 1 more.
Hadn’t he promised to send me the demo just moments before? And didn’t he claim last time that he had finished 4 whole songs? Now there was only a “rough sketch” and nothing had even been recorded? Would calling him out on this inconsistency yield anything that wouldn’t make me want to reach through the computer screen and slam Sheen’s face into his keyboard? My gut told me no.
I never did end up hearing Sheen rap and sadly that means, neither will you. He did send me some eye-roll-inducing videos where he lip-synched to random songs, but that only counts for a bad visual performance. Maybe it is better this way. His voice does sound like a nasally goat learned English when he speaks, so perhaps the legend of his capabilities as a vocalist is best left unsung.
Haaaah, it’s good to be back writing again. I believe we have material for maybe 3 more parts of Sheen Saga. I have already written most of part 8. It’s going to be a rough one for me to get through, so I got a head start on it. Fortunately, we’ll get to enjoy part 7’s SheenanigansTM before that. Next time: What Sheen can buy.
​
Until then, rest your muscles.
​
- MotherOfRain

Getting Rid of Most of My Flavors, Part 39
PREVIOUS > Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 - Part 31 - Part 32 - Part 33 - Part 34 - Part 35 - Part 36 - Part 37 - Part 38
Starting flavor count: 2,514 (down from 2,972)
TASK OR TRASH - Each flavor gets assigned at least one task or it goes in the trash.

FLAVORS EXPRESS

Green Tea
No bad, mostly green tea, but pretty floral. If I had to name it, I’d say it tastes a bit like wildflowers, maybe the way dandelions smell, but the flower, not dandelion greens. It doesn’t quite taste just like jasmine which is a little more common of a floral to find in tea. So it tastes a little weird, but mostly ok. Floral increases with more concentration, but can be tamed a little with creams. I remember a time when this was the best green tea we could get, way better than TFA or FA green tea flavors. But then Flavorah came out with Eisai Tea. This Pure Green Tea recipe looks great if you really want to vape just straight-up green tea, but since I don’t want to do that, I don’t have a use for FE Green Tea. TRASH 1
Guava
Tropical red flavor. Tastes like the tropical version of the color red made into a flavor. Thick, heavy, very sticky sweet syrupy flavor. Maybe a guava candy or strawberry-watermelon-guava candy, but not a realistic type of guava. It’s a little tart and there’s a light funkiness to it, enough to lend it a tropical vibe, but still tastes pretty candied. Could be a sweet base for a tropical punch or an enhancer for strawberry, watermelon, or other red fruit hard candy. No throat hit but it does get a little dry at the end after vaping it for a bit. Enough to make me thirsty; tastes like it should be mixed with something juicier, like some Cactus or FA Pear.
I’m excited to try Crazy Town, a 3-ingredient recipe that uses FE Lychee (love) and FLV Cream (love) with FE Guava. TASK 1
Kiwi
Candish with a distinctly lemony tartness, very sweet, with even a hard candy type of sweet body, but also a little off. Like it’s trying to have a hairspray type of off note but it isn’t quite strong enough or clear enough to be hairspray just yet, it’s just a slight chemical weirdness. Could make a pretty great lemony kiwi candy if that off note is overflavoring at 2%, or it needs a steep, or that could be covered up. I have other kiwis I’d rather use, though. TRASH 2
Lemon
Probably the best lemon out there or certain uses. It’s a bit sweet and a bit more of a candy lemon standalone but it is a more natural lemon than most of them, and it does two things really well - it mixes well with bakeries - really seems to soak right into them - and IT DOES NOT FADE much or change with steeping. Not harsh. No off notes.
I use it in Viserion but really, with that little of it just to make the blueberries pop a bit more, just about any lemon would do. Also for Long Gone Lonesome Blues. I also need it for Manson & The Pebbles, for and Blog Day, which is an old favorite I haven’t had in a while. TASK 2
Several recipes I already plan to try use it, they are about to be joined by a bunch more. Just look at this stuff!
Sadboy Butter Cookie. Creamy lemon filling smashed between two Golden Oreo style cookies. Do Want. TASK 3
Lemon Tart Cheesecake. I love a good lemon bakery and this looks like a good one. TASK 4
So does MlNikon Lemonade Cookies, even though it’s just a simple 1-2-3 recipe. TASK 5
And this Lemon Cream Pie TASK 6
Backwoods Lemonade Forest fruit lemonade, looks like an oldie but a goodie, especially in summer. TASK 7
1-2-3 Forest Blueberry Mix is another simple recipe using both FE Lemon and FA Forest Fruit, this time with TFA Blueberry Wild. TASK 8
Blushing Lady another three-ingredient recipe with FE Lemon, the other two are INW Grapefruit and FA Pomegranate. That FA Pom can be tricky but I bet it’s great in this one. TASK 9
This Lemon-Lime Cactus looks like it might be a great refreshing summer vape, too, if the cactus isn’t too much. TASK 10
Simple Lemonade. It’s just VT FIzzy Sherbet, FE Lemon, and some CAP SS. But that sounds simply delightful to me. TASK 11
Dumbledore. Another one that uses both VT Fizzy Sherbet and FE Lemon, this one in a sweet-and-sour lemon candy. TASK 12
And other with those two flavors, plus sour apple. Sour apple lemonade. Pucker Butt Lemonade. TASK 13
And of course, another blue razz recipe. Razul - I’m really interested in how the CAP HIbiscus and CAP Sweet Candy work with this combo of blue razz flavors. TASK 14
Lemonade
Weirdly warm sweet lemon. Like that kind of weird warmth that makes you check to see if you’ve accidentally bumped your wattage up. Not sure what’s up with that. Also something like a vague, soft spice note to it. It’s not bad tasting to me, but it’s not what I want from lemonade, either. TRASH 3
Lychee
This is actually my favorite lychee. I’ve had a lychee hard candy from Taiwan that I’m certain was made out of this. The flavor was identical. Very subtle rosy floral upfront, sugary sweet flatter more artificial base with a subtle funky ripeness to that white grape plus grapefruit tartness that lychee does. Strong, punchy flavor. I’m not sure if there’s actually some hard candy body here or if it’s just my mind playing tricks on me because of how much this tastes like that lychee candy. But it’s even sweeter than more syrupy flavors. Drier floral at first, but overall mouthwatering. Very bold, full-flavored.
Love it. It’s in a couple of things I already plan to mix. Really excited to try this Lychee Candy recipe too, it looks fantastic. TASK 15
If the combination of CAP Sweet Lychee and FE Lychee isn’t a lychee overdose, I bet this Lychee Apple Hard Candy is great, too. TASK 16
Mango
Fades very badly. At first it’s funky, juicy, complex, and most of all very vibrant and pretty much perfect. Unfortunately after just a few days it starts changing from this super vibrant mango flavor to something duller and flatter, shedding all of those bright top notes and even some of the funkier ones and basically leaving behind a dull slightly tropical mediocre peach. I don’t know the science behind why this works, but I’ve had it stick around a bit more in a mix with creamy things than without, but it still loses much of what makes it so great at first and as such I can’t recommend using it, unless you’re after an amazing mango shake and vape and aren’t making more than you can vape in a couple of days; in which case, grab some of this and mix it up at 2.5%, it’s really good. No task or trash with this one, it’s not included in my original flavor count because I used it all up and decided not to replace it before starting this flavor-hoarding recovery process.
Melon
I don’t think I’ve tried this one yet. Will mix a 2% sample and see what it’s about. TASK 17
Meringue
Does not taste like meringue. Sugary sweet but has a butter flavor under it that tastes a kinda fakey, like butter mixed with a little movie theater popcorn butter. Thick, creamy mouthfeel, very smooth. Not dry, almost oily with the butter. Lingering sweetness. FE meringue tastes like it might make a better, less waxy replacement for CAP Butter Cream at a lower % than the 2.5% I tried it at. Say 1%.But I did not see a recipe that used it that way - or any way for that matter - and because of that fakey butter taste, I’m not sticking my neck out for it. TRASH 4
Migua (Honey Dew)
This one is interesting. Not interesting in a bad way, but more of an I’m not sure what to do with this way. Sweet candy honeydew flavor with no real sense of juiciness. Really top heavy flavor in a sense, with all the honeydew packed right up front, comes across as artificial but not in an offensive or unpleasant way, on top of a very sweet but bland sort of candy body. The sweetness is really interesting here. It’s heavy, dense, and sticky feeling like hard candy, different from cotton candy or sucralose sweetness. Somewhere between syrup and hard candy, really quite sugary without having the grit of raw sugar. Bit of a dry finish versus the juiciness you probably want from a honeydew, but more sticky dry than full on Sahara desert dry. Can’t find a good-looking recipe that uses it, I’m going to let it go. TRASH 5
Mile Seven
Tastes more like a recipe than a single flavor, very complex. Unlike many other nutty tobaccos that are mostly nut, this one has a fairly good balance of roasted peanut and mild, generic tobacco. But I also get hints of caramel, vanilla, and chocolate. Lots of flavor from top to bottom, very full-bodied. I could have a lot of fun with this, like by enhancing the tobacco and boosting one of those accents, could probably make a delicious three-flavor sweet tobacco recipe out of this. My first thought is FLV Red Burley to play on both the nuttiness and the chocolate while driving the tobacco home, but a caramel or vanilla tobacco or separate tobacco and vanilla or caramel flavors would play well too.
There is seriously not a single recipe on ATF using this super-interesting flavor? Ok. I’ll mix something simple and think about where to take it from there. In the meantime, people who like INW 555 Gold need to get on this.
Mile Seven Experiment V1 TASK 18

Co.	Flavor	%
FLV	Red Burley	1.75
FE	Mile Seven	2

Milk Chocolate
Comes pretty close to milk chocolate. Lighter milk chocolate flavor, thick creamy feel. Very sweet, noticeably sweet above and beyond the sweetener put in my base for testing this. Some issues - it just isn’t super flavorful, and has a very slight chemical taste at 2%. Four percent brings out that chemical unbearably and makes that sweetness run a little fruity, 1% is just weak. 2% is too weak to pull off all the milk chocolate flavor of something like a candy bar, but maybe it could help move a darker chocolate flavor into more of a milk chocolate direction?
All five of the recipes currently on ATF that use it are by the same mixer, Sorteal. I’m going to try the three of them that look best to me.
3rd Wheel V2 I get a strong hazelnut taste from MB Glamour Chocolate but the Peanut Butter in there might swallow it up, and this one has a couple of shining reviews. TASK 19
Angelic Toffee this one not so much for anything I see in the recipe but for the food it’s based on - torn angel food cake mixed with whipped cream and crushed chocolate-covered toffee bars. Get in my belly! TASK 20
And Chocolate Overdose Custard V2 which looks like an improvement from V1 and appears to have been obsessed over to the point that it’s got to be good. TASK 21
Oak Milk
Y’all. This stuff is delicious. Maybe not “go to Flavor Jungle and buy it right this second” delicious, but if you’re already buying stuff at Flavor Jungle or some other place that sells it, definitely pick some up.
I’m not sure what “Oak Milk” is supposed to taste like, but FE Oak Milk mostly tastes like thick, rich, sweetened condensed milk, but it also has a fairly prominent soft caramel to it. Like you started making dulce de leche out of sweetened condensed milk and stopped halfway through. There might be something a little oaky hanging about in the background of that caramel top note, or that might be the power of suggestion from the name. The base is really clearly sweetened condensed milk, and then a softer caramel comes back in the finish and lingers. It’s thick and extremely rich and silky smooth, without any kind of butyric yuckiness.
I found FE Oak Milk to be a fairly complex concentrate that’s pretty satisfying even as a single flavor, but it seems like a lot of fun could be had with it. The caramel makes me want to do a creamy RY4 type of recipe. But it also seems like it would be good with any kind of fruit in a fruit and cream situation, or part of milkshake, or malt since that thing that might be wood tastes a little malty, or mix with nuts or chocolate. This plus VT Devon Cream and a little VT Chocolate Mousse would be amazing. I could also see putting some vanilla and bourbon flavors with this and using it to make something like a bourbon cream sauce. It’s just really, really delicious.
I already plan to mix The Baker’s Pipe. Happily adding Just Search Ass to the list. TASK 22
Oatmeal N Milk
This needs a steep. Even a week in, it’s alcoholic. It’s thick and rich but there’s more than a little alcohol in there that did not steep out over a week. Freshly mixed, it tasted like taking a shot half-vodka half-oatmeal with heavy cream and sugar. After a week, I still get a trace of alcohol. Other than that, it tastes sort of like oatmeal with lots of milk, more milk than oats really, and the oats are maybe a little overcooked and lacking texture beyond thickness. They’re also a little...the word that comes to mind is “gamey.” It tastes like it could be great in a cereal and milk recipe with the cereal flavor providing the texture (after a long steep). I wouldn’t use it as an oatmeal when there are other oat flavors as options. TRASH 6
Passion Fruit
Sweet passionate dryer sheets. Candy sweet but with a somewhat bitter floral top note. Fresh passion fruit should be a little floral, but this is a bit too much and also not quite right. Nectary sweetness, thinner than syrupy. A lot like sweetened and watered down passion fruit juice or thin passion fruit syrup mixed with some sweet guava nectar. Much less tartness than it should have. Instead, where more acidic tartness should be, there’s a bit of a perfumey floral that kind of reminds me of FA Summer Clouds (aka FA Dryer Sheets) but not so oppressive and blatantly dryer sheet-y as that and not something that would keep me from trying a recipe that uses it. Some mild throat hit, but nothing like FA Passion Fruit (aka FA Throat Razors). It’s not a bad flavor, but it’s definitely one I can live without. TRASH 7
Rainbow Sherbet
Tastes a bit like Rainbow sherbet, but mostly like tart and sweet raspberry-orange candy with a considerably floral top note and weird bitter sort of chemical or medicinal finish. There’s a bright, tart raspberry upfront that goes floral or perfumey as raspberries can do, at least at 2% after steeping for almost a week. After that it’s just citrus, mostly orange.
There’s supposed to be lemon in FE Rainbow Sherbet according to Flavor Jungle and I don’t really taste lemon, but the orange is more tart than it should be and I guess that’s a lemon? There’s not really a creaminess here. The orange is full-bodied right after that raspberry but the finish thins out and is a bit sweet and dry. And weird. It finishes weird, like with the bitterness of a floral perfume without that much of the actual perfume taste, more like medicine. It’s not fun.
Maybe you could fix it with some cream flavor, like maybe Vanilla Swirl will eat FE Rainbow Sherbet’s sin, but I don’t know, and I’m not going to stick around to find out. TRASH 8
RY4
Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t RY4 supposed to be caramel-vanilla-tobacco? This one tastes much more like a caramel-nut-tobacco, but the caramel is a bit sharp and raw brown sugary, not especially rich or creamy. Vanilla is present but not creamy, more like a slight hint of darker vanilla bean. The tobacco is extremely nutty, like roasted toasted nuttiness, and that makes up more of the body of this flavor than the caramel. Overall I really like this flavor, it finishes quite drier than some of the others in the RY4 category, but I’m ok with that in a tobacco vape, and it still manages to be rather smooth. 4% seems to really be pushing some of the raw brown sugar here and I’m thinking it probably fares better at 2 or 3%. Anyway, it’s a pretty good flavor, but there are three recipes on ATF that use it, one has a flavor I don’t have in it. The other two both otherwise look good to me but contain a level of FLV Connecticut Shade I’m not comfortable with.
However, FE RY4 and the Super Concentrates (SC) RY4 that used to be sold by Bull City are the same thing, and this Coastal Wolf vanilla custard tobacco that calls for SC RY4 looks fantastic. TASK 23
RY4 Double
Tastes more like caramel coffee than caramel tobacco, and it’s a little green, like extra extra light roast coffee or maybe half coffee/half green tea. Sticky-sweet caramel and light vanilla is at least half of the equation, but that green coffee thing, while not terribly off-putting, is very odd. I’m so close to tossing this, but here’s a recipe harnessing that coffee aspect: PSL. I don’t expect it to be a “keeper” because it’s a “live mixing” thing and not a recipe meticulously crafted over time, but I really want to see how that worked out. TASK 24
Strawberry
Perfectly serviceable but fairly boring strawberry. Reminds me of FW Strawberry except more concentrated. Tastes fairly natural but again there’s that out of season or heat lamp strawberry that just doesn’t have that much flavor, with just a little artificial bump to it. Has a tartness to it -- also similar to FW Strawberry but a little sharper and less soft than FW’s - but similarly doesn’t have a lot of other complexity. It isn’t a very deep flavor but isn’t top heavy, it’s more just in the middle, without much of that brighter top note or ripe, juicy depth. TRASH 9
Sun Seeds
Overly sweet, under-roasted, and only almost salty, but otherwise tastes like sunflower seeds. The top note tastes like kind of green but not quite raw shelled sunflower seeds. Base is where it gets overly sweet and more of an indistinct, almost creamy nut flavor more than the distinctive seedy top note. Saltiness is there but light, more of an impression than actual saltiness, and more in the aftertaste than the vape.
There’s only one recipe with it that interests me, this chocolate peanut butter, but the problem with that one is that it’s 4 years old and I can’t remember if that means the old LB Lava Cake or the new one, and at 3%, I’m pretty sure that matters. Tempted to steal liberally from that recipe to make my own chocolate PB, and I still might eventually, when it comes to using it at an additive level like that, I don’t believe FE Sun Seeds can do anything that FLV Beer Nuts can’t do better. TRASH 10
Sweet Bread Crust
Mostly tastes like peeling the crusty outside off a baked Kings Hawaiian roll. Like those rolls are great just out of the bag, but this is the crust from one that’s been put in the oven until the outside is a little crisp. Essentially, the perfect top note for something like a bread pudding. Not yeasty, the only “off” note I’m getting is a light and pleasant but weirdly dark, chocolatey caramel in the finish, like a very watered down melted Rolo. I know from two recipes I tried that it can be covered up fairly easily, as neither of the recipes have any hint of chocolate, though I kinda wanna lean in to that and hit it with some VT Devon Cream and maybe another chocolate, WF Salted Caramel, and come buttery custard like FA Custard Premium and see if I can do like a chocolate bread pudding with salted caramel sauce. But, that sounds like a lot of work, and I’m not sure I’m up to it.
This Bread Puddn V3 recipe by Enyawreklaw is, believe it or not, awesome. I think I can make it even better, though. Going to swap the CAP Super Sweet out for FW Sweetener, same amount, and drop in 0.1% FLV Rich Cinnamon. TASK 25
Sweet Grape
There’s a crisp, slightly tart but very sweet white grape underneath there, but it initially and mostly tastes like I’d just been vaping hair gel. I can’t remember the brand, but back when I had hair I definitely used a hair gel that smelled exactly like 75% of this flavor. Mix it with some white grape juice and you have this. Graham (RIP) once said it was the worst flavor he’d ever tried and was more offensive than a Hitler action figure. I’m much more offended by barf flavor than weird chemical off notes so I’m not going to say it’s anywhere near the worst. But it ain’t good. TRASH 11
Sweet Orange
It’s a vibrant and juicy mandarin orange, I personally love this one. It also tastes like canned mandarin oranges more than it tastes like anything, but at the same time it does have some orange peel and zest in the top notes, though they’re understated. The body is very sweet, like canned mandarins in syrup, but still bright. It’s little thin at 4% but starts to get a little waxy to me at 5%. It’s smooth for a citrus. Tried working with it quite a bit and had trouble with it not showing up behind other ingredients as much as I want it to, and with it needing help in the thickness department to actually pass as juice, but it certainly tastes great compared to a lot of other mandarins, oranges, and tangerines.
Already planning to try 3 days 2 nights that uses it. I love the idea of a POG Milkshake but couldn’t possibly enjoy that because of the TFA VBIC pepper thing. Instead I’ll take a recipe a made a couple years back, Creamsquat that’s dead now due to no lemon mix, and see what happens if I replace the Kumquat 3.75% and INW Lemon Mix 0.25% with 4% FE Sweet Orange for a more traditional but still coconut-milk-based dairy free vanilla filling orange creamsicle. It if blends too much (Kumquat and Lemon Mix were great at separating from cream into a distinct layer) I’ll probably just have a tasty orange-coconut-vanilla mess on my hands, and that’s ok. Might go back and add some passionfruit and guava later. TASK 26
Sweet Rice
Freakishly authentic fragrant plain white rice, like jasmine rice, for a week or so, then devolves into much more of a bland starchy body like a stale flour tortilla. Before devolving, nice rice texture on top, finish is quite creamy but still rice-tasting. Very thick, full mouthfeel even while the flavor is more subtle, again accurate to rice.
Mixing with VT Rice Base helps with the fading issue considerably.
I need it for Clouds of Buddha. I also love the idea behind Broke Breakfast, because been there, ate that. Still miss it sometimes. But I think I can do it better than that. Also my family wasn’t quite as broke as Gachatay’s apparently, we got a little pat of butter on our hot rice before pouring milk over it.
My Broke Breakfast V1 TASK 27

Co.	Flavor	%
FE	Sweet Rice	4.5
VT	Rice Base	1.25
FA	Meringue	0.75
FA	Milk	1.25
FA	Cream Fresh	1
VT	Butter Base	0.75
FLV	Rich Cinnamon	0.13
FW	Sweetener	0.5

Sweet Strawberry
Weird, darkly sweet strawberry with a strange funky sort of tropical flavor. Full flavored but almost overripe, while at the same time fairly simple without too much else going on, almost like a candy flavor in its simplicity. Not a clue what to do with this stuff unless mixing with a tropical flavor that isn’t funky enough. TRASH 12
Turkish
Very vague and very light spice notes, light to medium tobacco base, and just a touch of brown sugary sweetness. Woody, with some nutty tones. Peanut, specifically. Like tobacco mixed with peanut shells. Pretty solid amount of flavor at 2%. Pretty good depth, medium thickness. Can’t say I enjoyed it a whole lot by itself but I certainly wouldn’t hesitate to mix a tobacco recipe that uses it. Unfortunately, I did not see one. TRASH 13
Whipped Cream
Terrible. It tastes like whipped cream, but also tastes like it has lemon dish soap in it. If you’ve ever used Lemon Joy to hand wash dishes, it’s a pretty recognizable thing. Tastes like I wanted to make vanilla whipped cream with two tsps of vanilla but I only had one tsp of vanilla, so I subbed in Lemon Joy for one of the tsp because I was dropped on my head and fed lead-based paint chips as a child. I can’t understand how this gets manufactured and sold to people, it’s so bad. TRASH 14

FLAVOUR ART

7 Leaves Ultimate
Woody, dry tobacco, very light spice, like an autumn spice with the slightest hint of anise, not enough to be licorice-y. It’s not perfumy, but it’s kinda cologne-y in that wood and spice combination and hint of tobacco, kinda tastes like it could be a men’s cologne. The woodiness is similar to sandalwood but not exactly sandalwood. It’s definitely not pine or oak, though. Very distinctly brown sugar sweetness. That’s mostly what I get, wood and brown sugar, with spice. Not much tobacco really, just a leafy hint of it..
I need it for Chem Twista Lime. TASK 28
Almond
Definitely not trash. If you forced me to keep only one FA flavor, it would probably be this one. It’s a clear, clean, almond flavor. It mostly tastes like a raw almond. Slightly sweet and extracty, but dry, rich, and woody enough to come across as the actual nut in a mix, while being smooth enough to be the almond taste in almond milk. Medium body, not thin and top heavy. Rich and creamy but not too thick and basey either. It really is the quintessential and most essential almond flavor and it can be used in so many ways. If you don’t have FA Almond already, get it now.
I need it for a bunch of favorite recipes, such as Mango Blossom Macaron, Vanilla Almond Milk, Saturday Morning Macaron, Big Papa’s Macaron, Blog Day, Goddaron, Stoned Alone, Dummies, and Sandy Pineapple, not to mention a dozen or so new-to-me recipes I already plan to try.
Here’s a couple more that look too good to pass up:
High Society. Butter. Almond. Custard. Tobacco. Going to sub FW Sweetener for the PUR. TASK 29
Spandauer. Danish puff pastry. TASK 30
Amarula
I don’t know what Amarula is supposed to actually taste like, but this one can best be described in a word as “interesting.” It’s very rich and creamy, with a flavor that reminds me of Irish Cream with that slight mocha coffee-type note, but it also some really bright, citrusy grapefruit-esque thing going on, just thinly laid over the heavy cream. It tastes like something you couldn’t enjoy in real life because the acid would curdle the cream and make it nasty. It also tastes like FA Irish Cream and FA Grapefruit mixed together. It’s a little boozy, but not at all strongly so. No clue what the heck to do with it, but it’s interesting. There’s not a single recipe on ATF that uses it, so this seems like a good chance for me to go ahead and expunge something weird from my stash. TRASH 15
Anise
Brighter, spicier anise with some woody accents and a light but almost creamy base. No off notes. If I saw a recipe using this that I really wanted to try, I’d keep it, but seeing none, TRASH 16
Apple Pie
I really just get pie crust from it. No apple. Just the slightest bit of fruity sweetness. No spice, not really, maybe they like wave some cinnamon over the vat of the stuff at FA HQ but don’t actually drop it in. But it’s a really solid pie crust, probably the most solid. It’s strong and shows up in a mix and tastes like buttery if a bit doughy crust. Very full and dense crust, no off notes, just missing ones.
I need it for my 1-2-3 Butter Pecan Pie. TASK 31
But I will be mixing that and tasting it with the intention of trying to make it better, and this Butter Pecan Crumble looks like about where I would have wound up, so I’ll go ahead and try that and see if improving Butter Pecan Pie is something I still need to do or something that’s already been done for me. TASK 32
Also, here’s a recipe that specifically states that the mixer has already done that for me, so of course I have to try Butter Tarts - it looks amazing. TASK 33
I have already planned to mix other recipes that use this, too.
Apricot
Very nice, authentic apricot. It’s one that everyone should probably own. It tastes much more natural than candied and not overly sweet. Top notes are mild, subtle yellow peachy-type of flavor. Pushing it higher doesn’t really make it less weak, it’s just a gentle type of fresh fruit flavor. A little dry, or at least not especially juicy, but not too dry. Of note, I’m aware some people think it is aggressive and does stand out in a mix, but I’ve never had that issue using it with bold fruits. Not a dried or cooked type of flavor at all. I don’t get any sort of harshness from this, overall it’s just a smooth and gentle flavor. Its exhale starts and finishes weaker: it’s more of a middle-range flavor, with a nice full fleshy body like you’d expect from a fresh apricot. Hence why I like to use it to help fill out various other stone fruits - peaches, plums, nectarines, cherries - and it even works for some tropical fruits like mango and papaya. It’s not very aggressive or prone to standing out too much in mix with other fruits, in my experience, although I’ve had a tobacco recipe that used it at 1% and I didn’t think it would show up at all, but it definitely did. . So, mixed results. Works especially well with flavors that have their own aggressive top notes and you want to make it a fuller bodied fruit without pushing those flavors higher and getting more harshness or having them run floral on you, like peaches, or for filling out a cherry without letting it get too mediciny if you want a fresh natural cherry flavor.
I need it for Counter Punch TASK 34
Impropapiety (papaya sweet tea recipe I created) TASK 35
Apricaught Me Slippin (the aforementioned apricot 1% tobacco recipe) TASK 36
And a couple of other favorites that were added to the to-mix list too recently to repeat just yet.
I also want to try Cookie-On-Me,. A fruit-filled cookie recipe that has some of my favorite ingredients in it - with the exception of FA Cookie (I’ll just JF Cookie instead) and CAP Super Sweet (which I’ll replace with FW Sweetener because 0.5% CAP SS seems like a lot for a cookie recipe). TASK 37
Arctic Winter
It’s just menthol. The only reason I would keep it over any other just plain menthol is a recipe using it that I want to make, since I’m not exactly sure how much of a different menthol to sub in.
Unfortunately for my getting rid of flavors project, there is one such recipe: Spiral Out, an orange, papaya, menthol mix. TASK 38
Aurora
Heavy, realistic lime zest top end with some bitterness and a much softer but sweet, limeade-type body that almost feels effervescent. Perfect for the “twist of lime” in a cocktail because of that zesty lime and sweeter body.
I need this for something I’m working on. I also want to try Strawora Limealis, though I imagine that if I love it I’ll soon be trying it again with a rum flavor or two or FLV Tequila Agave added to it. TASK 39
And Peyote, which looks weird. But it might be amazing weird. TASK 40
Banana
Very typical FA Flavor. Realistic, sightly underripe banana, all thin, dry top notes with essentially no creamy base at all. 1 to 2%, beyond that, overly dry to the point of added throat hit,, also candyish, but not in a good way like LA or TFA Banana Cream, because that underipeness also ramps up and just gets weird. Also, at 3%, it tastes almost like there’s a bit of clove in here. Sounds like a negative review, but I actually used to love 1.25ish % of this on top of TFA Banana Cream because it creates a more realistic banana. The problem is that we have quite a few better bananas now. I think I’ll be ok without this one TRASH 17
Banana Candy
When WF came out with a banana candy, I really appreciated the embracing of the candy, since so many other bananas taste like banana runts or banana laffy taffy but don’t just come right out and admit it. But then Chef’s Super Concentrates (RIP) comes out with one that’s super potent and spot-on banana runts but the “at least they’re honest about it” novelty starts to wear off. Then FA’s comes out and by now, I’m not interested in candy banana. But there’s nothing wrong with this one. It tastes very much like those banana puffy candies, but with a little less punch of flavor than those have. If you’re really into those foamy banana candies you might want to pick this one up, but I don’t feel a need for it personally. TRASH 18
New Flavor Count: 2,496

Hace una semana mi enamorada se fue de viaje y me pidió darle un tiempo, y pues yo estaba de acuerdo porque no íbamos ha estar cerca, pero ayer me contó por mensaje, que había hablado con su ex y a causa de eso se sentía confundida de nuestra relación y decidió alejarse y me pidió tiempo. Que me aconsejarían?