Old havana cuban bar and cocina

33 year old attorney - squandered my early career years

2023.05.30 23:18 closetgunner 33 year old attorney - squandered my early career years

I'm a 33 yo attorney, and I feel at a complete loss for finding any sense of purpose anymore.
For the past decade, I was pretty ambitious. I have raced triathlon for ten years and graduated law school in 2018 (top 20%, accepted onto law review, published, etc.). I passed the bar and my professional life has slowly been falling apart since. I've jumped from being a law clerk for a year (disliked it - boring) to working at a small real estate law firm for 2 years (left because I got zero mentorship and got paid pretty low) to state government for a year (way too much red tape, even lower pay) to back to my prior law firm (and the lowest pay yet because i only get paid 50% of my billed hours - no benefits, no retirement, I'm an independent contractor). While inflation has steadily been climbing, my salary has been declining. I make less now than I have since I started law school. I feel completely helpless compared to my colleagues who graduated with me - their salaries are $200k+. I'm not even hitting $60k this year.
I've prioritized my hobbies (triathlon) over everything else in my life (except my marriage, but she's a triathlete, too - so it works). And all I'm left with is an expensive bicycle, impressive race results for the amateur. I have no retirement. No 401k. I drive a 15 year old car that had its engine replaced. I live paycheck to paycheck and I'm slowly losing my will to really continue playing the game.
It comes in waves - some days I'm able to put it out of mind, but some days I'm very aware that I've prioritized training 2x a day over staying late at work. and it hurts.
I went to law school because it was a challenge. And now I regret it because now I'm forced to use this stupid degree I never really wanted in the first place. I hate the billable hour. I hate the clawing and scraping for work from the partners who quite frankly don't give a single iota of a fuck if I have a paycheck or not.
My wife is in grad school (and I'm working remote to be with her). She's in her last year of school, but we're not confident exactly where we're going to end up geographically. We could end up back in her home state, my former home state, or somewhere completely new (where I would have to go through another state's bar exam).
TLDR: I wasted the first five years of a being a lawyer and now I'm painfully aware of the fact that I've squandered the opportunities I had. Do I switch careers? I practice real estate law and getting my agent's license (and eventually broker's license) seems way more fun - way more client contact, meetings, etc. without having to be the "brain" on the deal. I've never been super smart, I just worked hard.
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2023.05.30 23:09 Anvis_Infinity [In progress] [1501][Sci-FI] The Verses (title) Please tell me you thoughts

California state prison Life is truly unpredictable. We all once dreamed of becoming doctors or lawyers, shaping our futures with optimism. But here I am, confined within these prison walls—a reality I never fathomed. Yet, in this desolate place, it seems that no one truly cares. Two months have passed since I arrived, and each day is an arduous struggle for survival, a constant battle against the law of the jungle in its most modern form. Every passing day feels like a never-ending nightmare, gradually consuming my sanity. I can feel myself descending into madness, constantly on edge, my fight-or-flight instinct perpetually activated. There is no respite, not even in the darkness of night. The air is thick with the echoes of tormented screams that haunt our sleep, ensuring that even our dreams are tainted with despair. It’s bewildering how this place not only confines the body but also imprisons the mind. Amidst this bleak existence, I find solace in the intimidating visage I possess and the imposing physique I bear. It sets me apart from those who have succumbed to the depths of this grim abyss, their bodies now six feet under the ground. However, my physique alone could only provide limited protection. It is my own foolish mistakes that may ultimately lead to my demise, or rather, will lead to my death. I have already committed my first error by offending a notorious gang leader. I wish it were a grave offense like taking the life of one of his subordinates, but instead, it was something as trivial as sitting at the wrong table in the canteen. And now, he seeks to end my life. My cellmate warned me of the bounty placed on my head, a sick game concocted by that bastard to torment me. As the cell door buzzed open, its mechanical groan reverberated through the air, signaling the dreaded lunchtime. A chill slithered down my spine, mingling with the sickening anticipation of what awaited me beyond those iron bars. I knew all too well that this time, caution was not merely a choice but a matter of life and death. Every step I took outside, I was acutely aware of the lurking shadows, the hidden dangers ready to strike. The guard’s barked command sliced through the air like a serrated blade, slicing away any semblance of safety or comfort. His voice dripped with sadistic pleasure as he herded us, defenseless prisoners, towards the canteen, a place where pain and violence lurked like ravenous beasts. My heart hammered in my chest, a rapid percussion of fear, as I analyzed my surroundings with feral instinct. I scoured every corner for hidden threats, my eyes darting from one shadow to another, assessing blind spots like a hunted animal on the verge of its last stand. In that moment, an opportunity, as precarious as a spider’s silk, presented itself. The guard, his malevolence etched deep into his sneering face, loomed close to me. I weighed my options, knowing that the wrong move would condemn me to a merciless demise. The specter of death whispered in my ear, urging me to fight back, to strike first and defy the shackles of my oppressors. Without a flicker of hesitation, my hand shot out, the palm of my trembling hand connecting with the guard’s face in a resounding slap that echoed through the corridor. His expression twisted into a grotesque mask of rage, a harbinger of the storm that was about to be unleashed upon me. “You fucker! Come here!” his voice boomed, a thunderous growl that reverberated in the depths of my soul. He charged towards me, wielding his formidable bat with a sadistic gleam in his eyes, as if relishing the opportunity to unleash his cruelty upon my defenseless body. Driven by desperation, I fought back, fueled by the primal instinct to survive at any cost. Blow after blow, I struck with a ferocity borne from a place deep within me, each slap a desperate plea for freedom. But my resistance was futile, a fleeting flicker of defiance in the face of an unyielding storm. The guard’s retaliatory onslaught descended upon me like a torrential downpour of unrelenting agony. His weapon became an extension of his twisted will, delivering bone-shattering blows that fractured my body and shattered my spirit. The searing pain tore through every fiber of my being, eclipsing any physical torment I had endured before. It surpassed the brutality inflicted by my own father, a testament to the depths of human cruelty. Mocking laughter mingled with the sound of my screams, the guard’s sadistic delight intensifying with every strike. I writhed in excruciating pain, my body a mere vessel of suffering, on the precipice of vomiting up the wretched food that had been forced upon me. Each kick landed with merciless precision, a merciless reminder of my insignificance, reducing me to a broken, battered shell of a human being. Finally, my ravaged form was dragged away, cast into the suffocating darkness of solitary confinement. The door closed behind me, sealing my fate within these desolate walls. As the agonizing throbs of pain merged with the suffocating isolation, a twisted symphony of despair played on, etching its haunting melody into the deepest recesses of my mind. Finally, I had survived, but at what cost? A bitter reflection consumed me as I surveyed my new home. “Hey, kid,” a weathered voice suddenly pierced the suffocating silence. The timbre of his voice revealed a man well into his sixties or beyond. Straining to locate the source, I realized it originated from the cell adjacent to mine. Surprised and puzzled, I questioned how I could hear him. Shouldn’t I be in complete isolation? “Kid, I know you can hear me,” he confidently declared, as if he held a secret knowledge. Uncertainty gripped me, leaving me unsure of how to respond or what actions to take in this confined world. To hell with it, I thought. I was already in isolation, so why not engage in conversation? I needed someone to talk to, to maintain a sliver of sanity amidst the suffocating solitude. Even though I believed I wouldn’t lose my grip on reality, I knew that prolonged isolation could weaken even the strongest of minds. So, with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, I mustered the courage to respond, “Yeah, I can hear you, old man. What do you want?” Yet, a nagging question lingered in the back of my mind. How was it even possible for the old man to communicate with me in this isolated prison? “Nothing. I don’t need anything. I just want to talk. Is that a problem?” the old man’s voice carried a hint of loneliness, longing for connection. “No, not at all,” I replied, my curiosity piqued by his request. “Well then, what’s your name, kid?” he inquired, his tone friendly. “I’m Anvis. And you?” I responded, eager to continue the conversation. “What a peculiar name. Well, I’ve heard stranger names in my lifetime. I’m Sam,” he revealed, his voice warm and inviting. “So, what landed you in this place?”he asked “I was involved in the creation and sale of ghost weapons,” I confessed, a tinge of regret in my voice. “Ghost weapons… ah, yes, I’ve heard about them. You mean those 3D-printed guns? You must have had quite the knack for designing them,” Sam remarked, genuinely interested. “I suppose you could say that, though I never intended for things to turn out this way,” I explained, a mix of frustration and remorse seeping into my words. Sam’s voice filled with curiosity as he asked, “What do you mean?” “Let’s just say I was caught up in a difficult situation. Growing up as an orphan, I found myself entangled with the wrong crowd, doing whatever it took to survive. Unfortunately, that path led me to get involved in the production of ghost weapons. I had no choice, really. It was a matter of self-preservation,” I confessed, a hint of vulnerability in my voice I don’t know why but I was confessing to Sam I felt warmth I felt like talking with a friend. Listening intently, Sam responded empathetically, “Sometimes life pushes us into corners we never anticipated. It’s not always easy to make the right choices when survival is at stake.” Encouraged by his understanding, I continued, “Exactly. I didn’t want any part in it, but circumstances forced my hand. I was coerced into designing those guns under the threat of exposure. However, fate had its own plans. When I went to deliver the weapons, the authorities swooped in, intercepting the guns before they could be used for harm. In a strange way, I felt a sense of relief that they didn’t end up causing any damage.” Sam nodded thoughtfully before sharing his own story, “Well, in my case, I had quite an extraordinary entrance into this prison. I fell through a portal and ended up here.” Oh great I am talking to a lunatic.
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2023.05.30 23:05 No-Cartographer857 How my dm made everyone into a god and me as a peasent

Hello there people, there’s something that you need to know first before this story starts.the dm decided to make a godlike world where we needed to earn our titles back from a monstrous being called alía.
When we started a dnd campaign and made our characters(me an undead fighter,Enri an elf ranger and the DMPC an dragonic cleric)and our dm asked us a question”what is your favourite thing?” I decided to say “probably ghouls as I like being a necromancer haha”and Enri stating “my dog” which the dm looked at her way more enthusiastically and he started the game.weird I thought but it carried on.
we had fun trying to find out what our goals were, and trying our best to survive with a terrifying aura of a fight just lingering behind our level 6 characters until we met a guy in a bar who I will dispise for all my play through. Jerry the god slayer…yeah Ik what your thinking. Anyways we had met him and the dm said”roll an athletic check” 24 and he said”you get damaged for 19 of your health” and it put me down for one more hit point and the story decided to have a “bit” of a twist.
The Jerry guy said “I will kill you god of slavery”. I was dumstruck at what he said and out of the game asked him what was going on and he just said “I’m bored and also you have poison take 1 damage” as he said that I just left as I didn’t even want to go on. He decided to text me after saying “you have been banned from the group see ya”
I was a bit weirded out but I didn’t get bothered and went to another group in the place and had fun as they were balanced but always saw the old dm staring at me with hatred and then made a complaint to the board after I had apparently hurt him by saying “I can’t do this as the game is getting to much and the fact that he is still there looking at me like I’m useless” we were right now in the endgame but my new dm said to take time and if I want to I’ll be Available to come back. I was thankful but I still feel bad about leaving
Since then I had felt super terrible about leaving and dnd had been ruined so am I terrible? Thanks for listening
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2023.05.30 23:05 For2ANJ 2 Weeks Ending 5.30.23 Media Coverage on Everything Guns in New Jersey

Here is a listing of all the media articles, for the past 2 weeks on anything gun related that related to New Jersey:
Note: Articles on the recent PI ruling have been omitted as covered in separate post (Link at bottom)
  1. Man Shot By Police After Firing Gun Near NJ Train Station: Mayor Wayne, NJ Patch
  2. Prosecutor: 6 NY men posed as police in armed NJ home invasion (nj1015.com)
  3. New Jersey police officer who authorities say shot and killed a 911 caller is charged with manslaughter CNN
  4. Newark Sees 4th Multiple Shooting In A Month: 4 Shot, 1 Dead Newark, NJ Patch
  5. Person With Gun Reported At Great Falls, Juvenile Charged: Paterson PD Wayne, NJ Patch
  6. 13-year-old's shooting inspires anti-crime initiative in Newark, New Jersey for summer safety - ABC7 New York (abc7ny.com)
  7. Analysis: Three experts explain America's gun politics CNN
  8. NJ State Police seize guns from Paterson man and woman (northjersey.com)
  9. NJ’s attorney general confronts gun violence, corruption, police reform — and a paradox - Gothamist
  10. NJ Teen Charged With Attempted Murder In Shooting Near Carnival East Brunswick, NJ Patch
  11. Pa. man charged after accidentally shooting himself at Wildwood Crest motel, police say PhillyVoice
  12. Church member arrested in shooting death of Sayreville councilwom (nj1015.com)
  13. Student Photo With Firearm Probed, 'No Imminent Danger': Brick PD Brick, NJ Patch
  14. NJ road rage gunfire: 7 things to try when you’re this angry (nj1015.com)
  15. Pleasantville, NJ, Man Facing Gun Charges After Foot Pursuit (wpgtalkradio.com)
  16. DWI Driver Found With Loaded Gun After Crash: Montgomery Police Hillsborough, NJ Patch
  17. Three Youths Arrested in Trenton After Bucks Gun Store Heist – NBC10 Philadelphia (nbcphiladelphia.com)
  18. Mom says Newark police handcuffed 8-year-old daughter in search for big brother’s gun - nj.com
  19. Hero N.J. police officer wrestled ‘ghost gun’ from suspect, saved bystanders - nj.com
  20. Ex-Con Wanted In Edgewater Domestic Assault Caught Outside Cliffside Bar With Gun: Police Cliffside Park-Edgewater Daily Voice Serving Cliffside Park, Edgewater, Bogota, Fairview, and Ridgefield
  21. Atlantic County Man Sentenced for Possession of Illegal Handgun (rlsmedia.com)
  22. Shots fired outside a Paterson school over parking, cops say (nj1015.com)
  23. Authorities identify 8-year-old, man killed by gunman in N.J. apartment - nj.com
  24. Frackville man charged after gun discharges in Wildwood Crest, New Jersey, wounding him (yahoo.com)
  25. Sen. Bob Menendez, Mayor Ras Baraka call for more enforcement of federal gun laws - CBS New York (cbsnews.com)
  26. Murphy Announces Intention to Nominate Michael Noriega to Serve on the New Jersey Supreme Court - Insider NJ
  27. Eunice Dwumfour murder: Arrest made in shooting death of New Jersey councilwoman - ABC7 New York (abc7ny.com)
  28. N.J. attorney convicted of murder in shooting death of his longtime girlfriend - nj.com
  29. Joaquin DeJesus, 53, of Atlantic City Sentenced to 8-Year Prison Term For Firearms Offenses - South Jersey Observer
  30. AI may be the future of preventing school shootings PIX11
  31. Chicago man arrested in NJ DWI with stolen gun from Alabama (wobm.com)
  32. NJ Fugitive Joel Martinez Accused of Pistol-Whipping Transgender Woman, Shooting Others – NBC10 Philadelphia (nbcphiladelphia.com)
  33. InsiderNJ's Fight of the Week: Platkin v. Bumb (and Guns) - Insider NJ
  34. Worker Wrestles Gun From Gas Station Convenience Store Robber On Route 46 Saddle Brook-Elmwood Park Daily Voice Your Local News for Saddle Brook and Elmwood Park, New Jersey
  35. Armed robber steals thousands in cash from NJ pharmacy (nj1015.com)
  37. Man charged in N.J. cold case killing was arrested with murder weapon a decade ago, cops say - nj.com
  38. Two Atlantic City men arrested with drugs, handgun (pressofatlanticcity.com)
  39. Atlantic County Man Sentenced For Handgun Possession Gloucester Daily Voice Your Local News for Gloucester County, New Jersey
  40. Brattleboro man gets prison time as felon with a gun again Local News reformer.com
  41. Southern District of New York New Jersey Man Charged With Gunpoint Robbery Of Manhattan Electronics Store United States Department of Justice
  42. NJ man accused of leading PSP on chase along I-80 (yahoo.com)
  43. Camden County Armed-Robbery Suspect Remains At Large: Police Collingswood, NJ Patch
  44. District of New Jersey Essex County Man Admits Shooting of Former Federal Informant United States Department of Justice

Note: Articles on the recent PI ruling have been omitted as covered in separate post here:

Road Rage Incident - Still no proof / reports he had a PTC:
  1. Road rage incident over lane change leads to attempted murder charge for Somerset man (news12.com)
  2. Road Rage: Driver Charged with Attempted Murder after Shooting at Car Somerville, NJ News TAPinto
  3. Road raging N.J. driver fired 2 shots at car while trying to merge, cops say - nj.com
  4. Local Man Charged with Attempted Murder, Accused of Shooting at Car Franklin Township, NJ News TAPinto
  5. Fuming NJ man shoots at driver in road rage terror, officials say (nj1015.com)
  6. NJ driver charged with attempted murder in road rage attack (audacy.com)
  7. NJ man shot at driver’s vehicle during road rage dispute: officials PIX11
  8. Somerset NJ man charged with attempted murder in road rage incident (mycentraljersey.com)

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2023.05.30 22:58 MrMedioker 43 [M4F] #Toronto - Affectionate/soft Dom hosting downtown

Experienced, affectionate/soft Dom seeking a regular play partner. ENM, poly, and partnered, and am open to relationships/connections of all kinds.
When reaching out, please share a photo including your face and tell me a bit about yourself!


My toy chest:

Dildos/insertables of all shapes and sizes, anal plugs/hook, and several vibrators (all made with nonporous materials and sterilized). BDSM gear includes: leather cuffs/collar, spreader bar, bed corner and hogtie restraints, leather paddle, and more.
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2023.05.30 22:52 Extension-Type-2555 I fucking hate Xiaomi.

I fucking hate Xiaomi.
I needed a phone (actual need, not want) and my parents weren't in the best financial state so they just told me to pick a cheap phone, well for the hardware I chose a Xiaomi. The hardware is good, battery life is great, camera is good and the display and the buttons are overall the best for the price. But the UI absolutely SUCKS. I used to use a Samsung, even tho it was an old one I had the newest software and it was great. But this software actually explains why it's so cheap and Im starting to regret this. I MEAN BRO JUST LOOK AT THESE FUCKING AWFUL EMOJIS!?
The home screen and the lockscreen couldn't be worse. The battery is more than good enough to handle always on display but it doesn't have all the time on always on display, WHY THE FUCK IS THE HEADPHONE JACK AT THE TOP??? I swear nobody even uses them and when they do, not the top please.... The keyboard is so hard to adjust, I found the settings for it once and can't find it a second time. Doesn't even have the slide space to glide in the text. The bar thing (idk the name but basically the thing that enables you to use the phone with gestures) is awful, go return functions barely work and notifications totally suck. Taking screenshots are weird, the keyboard SOMETIMES vibrates when I click the keys but it's supposed to vibrate always(?).
The speakers and the build quality are so good though Spotify sucks on this phone, I finally understand what people mean when they hate on androids, I am now, one of them...
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2023.05.30 22:37 chuckhustmyre [TH] MIRROR IMAGE by Chuck Hustmyre

Sometimes when you look into the mirror, the mirror looks back.
William Bailey's forehead shattered the mirror like a sledgehammer. The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was the feeling that he was falling through the mirror. Sub-cranial hematoma, a concussion, maybe even a cracked skull--that had to be the reason for the strange feeling. The mirror was mounted on the wall just to the right of the bar, four feet tall by about three feet wide. As consciousness slipped away, common sense and his strong belief in the rational world told him that he couldn't fall through the mirror. He must have bounced his head off the wall and be falling toward the floor.
It seemed like just a second or two before William's eyes popped open. He lay on his back, on the hard wood floor of Fausto's, with Johnny Davis towering over him. Big Johnny probably wanted to finish him off, maybe kill him, and finally end their twenty-year-old feud. Either Big Johnny Davis and the ceiling lights above him were spinning, or William's head was spinning, but either way something wasn't right.
He raised his head and looked to his left, toward the bar. Except the bar wasn't there. Instead, he was staring at the bathrooms. That didn't make sense. It must be his brain that had gotten spun around. William turned his head and peered over his size-ten wingtips at the busted mirror. The wooden frame and most of the glass still clung to the wall, the rest sat broken on the ground. The bar had to be on his left. He looked again, and still saw the bathrooms. A brain bruise, maybe some fluid pressure building up might be the cause of it.
"Get up!" Big Johnny Davis said.
William looked up at him. Johnny stood behind him, just beyond his shoulders. Perfect place for him to stomp my head into the plank floor. Except Johnny Davis was holding out his hand.
"Come on, we've got to get out of here."
Davis looked scared. It was the first time William Bailey could ever remember Johnny Davis looking scared. William had always been scared of Big Johnny, but Big Johnny wasn't scared of anything or anyone.
Police sirens wailed in the distance.
Johnny glanced over his shoulder. William craned his neck to look where Johnny was looking, saw he was staring at the front door like a man terrified something bad was going to come through it. Big Johnny looked down at him again and pumped his hand. "Come on, get up. They'll be here any second."
"Who?" William asked. "Who'll be--" But before he finished, Big Johnny Davis reached down, grabbed him by both arms, and jerked him to his feet.
As he was dragged toward the door by the only man in town who truly hated him, William glanced up and saw the rusted metal sign nailed above the door. He had to have a concussion, probably severe; that had to be it, because the letters on the sign were backward. It said TUO.
As Johnny Davis pulled him out the door, William heard tires skid on the pavement.
"Where's your car?" Johnny asked.
William twisted away from the big man's grip, then turned to his left. "In the alley." He started to run, still not sure exactly what he was running from.
Behind him, Big John shouted, "The alley's over here."
William kept running but turned his head back toward Johnny. "I know where the alley--"
Something hit him across the midsection and toppled him to the ground. He got his hands up just in time to break his fall and managed to keep his head from slamming into the sidewalk. When he looked up he saw a shopping cart tumbled onto its side.
Once again, William found himself lying flat on his back, this time amid the spilled contents of the cart. It had been filled with junk: paper bags full of dirty clothes, canned food, bags of potato chips, a diamond shaped, orange road sign, and other trash that looked like it had been collected from back alley garbage bins.
The homeless man who'd been pushing the cart was scrawny, and wafer thin. His skin was the color of old shoe leather, and he wore a long gray beard, tangled and matted with food and bits of filth. He was sprawled on the ground next to his cart, half sitting up, staring at William with his bright blue eyes.
Car doors slammed, men shouted.
"You better get going," the homeless man said, as he cocked his head. "The police after you?"
Before William could assure the old man that the police weren't after him--he was a respected businessman and family man--someone behind him grabbed him under both arms and pulled him to his feet. William turned and found himself staring into the face of Johnny Davis. "The alley's that way," Johnny said, pointing to the other side of Fausto's. With one hand gripping William's jacket, Johnny dashed across the front of the bar toward the alley. The alley--right there, plain as day--on the other side of Fausto's, right where it shouldn't be, where it couldn't be. William had been here a thousand times. As you stepped out of the bar, the alley was on the left, Brockton's Ace Hardware on the right. Now everything was mixed up and in the wrong place.
Johnny Davis turned down the alley, dragging William behind him. After just a few steps, a spotlight flashed in front of them.
"Stop!" a voice commanded. "Get on the ground."
William couldn't see because Johnny was in his way. "Who's that yelling?" he asked.
Big Johnny stopped and William plowed into his back.
"Get on the ground," the voice boomed again.
William poked his head out from behind Johnny Davis's back. The blinding white light was in his face. He couldn't see a thing.
Big Johnny sagged, then crashed to his knees. Instinctively, William bent forward and grabbed hold of Johnny. "What's the matter?"
More pops.
Johnny's big hand reached out and shoved William back toward the street. "Back door," he wheezed, then plunged forward onto his face.
William stood alone. Behind the white spotlight he saw blue police lights flashing. He was totally exposed.
He saw flashes--little yellow spurts of flame--as something tugged at his jacket.
William had said "back door." What back door? Fausto's had a back door, but it didn't lead anywhere except to the open space behind the building used for trash and deliveries. Twenty feet of asphalt between the bar and the back of the building on the next block. William had parked his car at the end of the alley, but the police cars--or whatever they were--had the alley blocked off. The building behind Fausto's also had an alley that ran alongside it, but the owner had closed it off to keep the bums out. He'd put up a gate, padlocked it, and topped it with razor wire. It was a dead end.
Two more pops. Dead end or not it was better than standing here and getting shot. William turned and ran. He burst through the front door of Fausto's, dashed through the bar, past the shattered mirror, hit the back door at a dead run, and was outside behind the bar within seconds.
He could see the tail end of his car sticking out from the corner of the building, but with the cops blocking the alley, his car was useless to him. William glanced across the open space to the alley that ran next to the other building. The gate, the padlock, the razor wire--all still in place. To his right an overflowing garbage dumpster sat beside the back of Fausto's, jammed against the fire ladder.
The fire ladder.
An iron ladder bolted to the cinderblock wall.
William looked up. The top of the ladder was lost in shadow, but he knew it went up two stories to the roof. Last summer, when the toilet had stopped up, he'd come out back to take a leak and had stood behind the dumpster, peeing against the wall like a kid, one hand draped over the bottom rung of the ladder.
He slipped behind the dumpster. The smell made him gag. The bottom of the ladder was four feet from the ground. William reached up as high as he could, grabbed hold of the third rung, then hauled himself up.
Through the partially open back door came the sounds of heavy feet pounding on the hard wood floor of the bar.
Halfway up the ladder, he was exhausted--and scared. Shaking, he white-knuckled the ladder. Being more than ten feet off the ground terrified him. He needed a break, just a second or two to catch his breath. There was enough moonlight so he could see into one of the second story windows. Inside, junk was piled everywhere. Old barstools, a busted jukebox, furniture stacked almost to the ceiling. Years ago, old man Fausto lived on the second floor, but Jake, who'd bought the place from the old man and had decided to keep the name, used it for storage.
Below him, William heard the back door thrown open so hard it banged against the wall. He scrambled up until he reached the top of the ladder, then hoisted himself over the edge of the roof. Down on the ground a voice shouted, "There he is, up there."
Another gunshot. What the hell was going on?
The unmistakable sound of feet--fast feet, in shape feet, boot shod feet--scurrying up the ladder. Standing on the tar and pebble roof, William glanced around for something he could use as a weapon, shocked he was even thinking of such a thing. A five gallon plastic bucket was all there was. It stood upright, filled with rainwater. He picked it up and peered over the edge. A uniformed policeman was three quarters of the way up the ladder. Two more cops were right behind him.
William looked at the heavy bucket in his hands, thought about just dumping the water onto them but knew it wouldn't stop them. There was only one way to stop them, and that was to knock them off the ladder. He thought about warning them, maybe trying to scare them away. But they were cops. You couldn't scare them away.
So why had they shot Johnny Davis, and why were they shooting at him?
The first officer looked up and saw William staring down at him with the bucket in his hands. Their eyes locked for just a second and the cop stopped. In those eyes that stared back at him, William saw an almost maniacal determination that sent a shiver down his spine. The officer held his grip on the ladder with his right hand while his left dropped to the pistol resting in his gleaming leather holster. In one smooth motion he drew his gun and raised it toward William.
William Bailey tossed the bucket down the ladder. A shot rang out an instant before the heavy bucket thudded into the cop's head. Like a gruesome traffic accident happening before his eyes, William couldn't help but watch as the policeman fell, taking his two partners down with him. The last thing William saw before he turned away was a jumbled heap of black uniforms resting on the concrete below the ladder.
* * *
Hiding in the shadow of a telephone booth, thinking. Home. He had to get home. Had to get back to Marge and the kids. Maybe somehow he could explain what had happened. Vincent, his attorney, he would know what to do--maybe--but he was a civil lawyer not a criminal attorney. He wrote contracts and did personal injury on the side; he didn't get people out of jail who'd killed a cop by dropping a bucket of water on his head and knocking him and his buddies off the side of a building.
As the cab he'd been waiting for pulled up, William stepped out from the dark and climbed into the back seat.
The driver turned around. "Where to?"
William pulled the door shut. "Uptown. 1721 Audubon Court."
"Fare's gonna be about fifteen dollars. After dark, I gotta have the money up front."
"Company policy." The cabbie shrugged. "A lot of drivers been getting stiffed."
William opened his wallet, pulled out a twenty and handed it across the seat. The driver took it and almost slipped it into his cash box, then took a second look at the bill. His face tightened. "What the hell is this?"
With the bill stretched between his hands, the cabbie stared at it for a second then looked up at William. "You're either the dumbest counterfeiter who ever lived or you've been had."
"What you are talking about?"
The driver faced the bill toward William but didn't hand it back to him. "It's printed backwards."
William looked at the twenty-dollar bill in the man's hand. It looked like--it was--an almost brand new bill, nothing wrong with it as far as he could tell.
"Get out of my cab," the driver said.
William didn't know what the man was talking about but knew he didn't want to get out. This cab was his only way home. He reached for the twenty. "If you don't like that one I've got another--"
The driver pulled his hands away. "I ain't giving this back. I got to turn it in to the police." He dropped one hand behind his seat back, then came up clutching a pistol, an old German Luger by the looks of it, the muzzle aimed straight at William's face. "In fact, I bet they give me a reward if I bring you in with it."
William jerked the door handle and rolled out into the street. He sprang to his feet and ran, the driver's yells just background noise. Has everyone gone crazy or is it just me?
Home. He had to get home.
* * *
Rain. Driving, relentless rain. William was just two blocks from Fausto's. In two hours, that's as far as he'd gotten--one block an hour. Police cars prowled the neighborhood, shinning spotlights into every nook and cranny, lighting up every shadow. Everyone in Fausto's knew his name. He'd been going there three or four nights a week after work for years. The cabbie had his address. William had given it to him when he told the hack driver where to drop him.
Ten o'clock at night, with nowhere to go and no way to get there, William sat behind the closed Goodwill store, under an overhang that barely kept the rain off of him.
Huddled in the dark, head sunk between his knees, he hadn't heard anyone approach.
"You don't look so good."
Startled, William looked up, prepared to run again. It was the homeless man he'd knocked over outside the bar. The one with the shopping cart and the leathery skin. William relaxed a little. "Excuse me?"
The man pushed his cart closer. "You're not supposed to be here."
William looked around. "Why not?"
The old man grinned, half his teeth gone.
William found it nearly impossible to tell his age. The guy could be forty and maybe had lived a hard life, or perhaps he was a well-preserved seventy, pickled by a lifetime of booze. William waved him off, expecting a plea for money. "I can't help you."
The old man stopped just a few feet away. "Everything's out of place isn't it?" He had a strange lilting voice. Almost like an accent.
And he was right. Everything was out of place--from Johnny Davis to the cab driver--everything was wrong.
Strapped to the back of the old man's shopping cart was a plastic sign about the size of a loaf of bread. William recognized the sign, the words, the colors, the logo of a local supermarket chain, all were familiar to him, but the letters were backward, unreadable.
Rainwater ran down William's face. He pointed to the sign. "Why's it written like that?"
The old man looked at the sign then back at William. "Like what?" he said, then shuffled away behind his basket.
* * *
The rain came down even harder. William slouched in a darkened doorway across the street from Fausto's. Nothing made sense. Everything was messed up, backward, out of whack. Almost like this wasn't his home, like he was a stranger seeing it for the first time.
But that was crazy. He'd grown up here, gone to Brother Martin High School, dated Jenny Underhill who went to Cabrini, lost her to Johnny Davis, then got her back only to lose her again the first year of college to some kid who drove a Mustang. Two years later William married Marge at Saint Luke's. They had two kids.
This town was his home. He recognized it. He knew the people here, Big Johnny and Zeke, the bartender at Fausto's. But things were different, little things. John Davis for one. In trying to help him, the big man had gotten himself killed. That wasn't John Davis--at least not the one William Bailey had known since seventh grade. Everything looked the same but wasn't. Nothing was quite right.
But they knew him--or someone like him.
A strange sensation crept over him that made the hair on the back of his neck rise. Maybe he didn't belong here. Maybe everything wasn't as it appeared. Maybe this wasn't his home. But if that were true, then whose home was it? Another thought, even scarier seeped through his brain. If he was here, who was there--at his home?
William dropped his head into his hands. Just considering such nonsense was a waste of time. Yet, here he was scanning the street, thinking of going back inside Fausto's, back to that mirror.
Not much time to think about it. The bar closed at three AM and it was already two-thirty. When he'd left--run for his life with Big Johnny--most of the mirror was still in the frame hanging on the wall.
Something about that damned mirror.
But Fausto's was dangerous, so a couple of hours ago William had found another mirror. In the men's room of a twenty-four hour gas station. The Chevron on North Rampart.
He had approached it cautiously, afraid he was going mad. As he peered over the sink into the mirror, he saw what he always saw, his own reflection. Holding up his left hand, he looked at the image in the mirror, at the watch strapped to his wrist. He noticed that the man in the mirror wore his watch on his right hand. Just the opposite.
William stood in the gas station bathroom for twenty minutes before he worked up his nerve. Finally, he took a deep breath, leaned back, then slammed his forehead into the dirt-streaked mirror. The glass shattered and cut his head. Blood dribbled off the tip of his nose into the sink. His reflection stared out at him from the other side of the mirror, blood running down his face, too.
I have gone crazy!
So the gas station hadn't worked out. Ducking police cruisers, William had wandered the streets, his head reeling. What was he doing?
On the sidewalk, he found a sopping wet magazine that the wind had blown up against the side of a newspaper machine. The cover caught his eye. He picked it up. It was printed backwards, the letters reversed, words running right to left. The spine was on the right. As he flipped through the pages, he couldn't read a thing. Then William had an idea.
In the bathroom of an all night restaurant he held the wet magazine up to the mirror. Perfect. The reflected image was normal, spine on the left, words running left to right, all the letters printed correctly. He could read it clearly. But what did it mean?
Then he drove his head into that mirror. The glass cracked. Someone walked in, a skinny waiter wearing an apron. He stood gawking as William leaned over the sink with tears of pain filling his eyes.
The waiter looked at the broken mirror, then jabbed a finger at William's bloody forehead. "What the hell are you doing?"
"An accident," he mumbled, pressing his fingers against the fresh cut.
The waiter turned. "I'm calling the cops."
William Bailey ran.
Now he was huddled in the rain staring at Fausto's across the street. Because he had nowhere else to go.
He stood and walked toward Fausto's. When he was halfway across the street, a police car glided around the corner, headlights reflecting off the wet pavement. The cops in no hurry, just cruising. William forced himself to keep walking, not to run. One foot in front of the other. In the downpour, odds were that the cops wouldn't even recognize him.
But they did recognize him.
The police car slid to a stop as its high beams clicked on and its blue strobe lights started popping. Both front doors flew open.
Like a sinner seeking the sanctuary of a church, William ran straight for Fausto's door. As he burst inside, Zeke looked up from behind the bar. "William! What the hell are you doing here?"
He ignored the bartender, running right past him, eyes focused on the broken mirror and its busted frame hanging on the wall.
Zeke again, "The cops been looking all over for you. Say you killed two officers and--"
Behind him the front door banged against the wall. "Police!" a voice behind him commanded. "Stop."
But William didn't stop. He kept running--running straight for the mirror. Reflected in its fragmented pieces he saw two uniformed police officers behind him, heard their boots pounding on the wooden floor. Just ten feet separated him from the mirror. At full speed he took two strides then dove. He stretched his arms out overhead and tucked his chin into his chest as his feet left the floor.
He felt one hand hit wall and the other strike broken glass. Then his head hit. More glass cracked, more skin split.
* * *
William's eyes popped open. He was staring at the ceiling. Rough voices, even rougher hands. They rolled him over onto his stomach and jerked his arms behind his back. He felt cold steel on his wrists and heard the metallic ratcheting as the handcuffs tightened and bit into his skin.
He tilted his head up and rested his chin against the floor. Blood poured down the side of his face; he watched it pool on the floor then seep between the wooden planks. By rolling his eyes up he could just see the empty spot on the wall where the mirror had hung. Lying on the floor, three feet from his head, was the broken frame and the rest of the glass.
The two cops grabbed his arms and yanked him to his feet, sending waves of pain through his shoulders and wrists. As they spun him toward the door, one of the officers said, "You're under arrest."
"Why?" William asked.
The officer pressed his face into William's. "Murdering your family for starters."
"My...my family." William felt his stomach cinch and his bowels turn to ice. A thought he'd had earlier in the night echoed inside his head. If he was here, who was there--at his home.
As the cops dragged him across the floor, William glanced up and saw the rusted metal sign nailed above the door.
He was home.
submitted by chuckhustmyre to shortstories [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 22:35 WorthTooMuch My first painted mini is finished after setting the way too high as a starter

My first painted mini is finished after setting the way too high as a starter
I never really managed to commit myself to painting minis when i was playing Warhammer Fantasy decades ago. Placing the bar waaaay too high and thus never really started my learning journey cause i never liked and accepted my results and that resulted in always playing with an unpainted army.
I recently bought a 3D printer and spend some money on STL files that i could print. My first attempt (see last pic as example) was the Normandy SR-2 model made by Saimon Laster (Gambody), but that ended in an abandoned project and 'wasting' very pricy white citadel paint pot that i should have kept a bit of paint on reserves for this 'project'. Now onto my current project with a simple story:
My D&D group needed a cow for our campaign and i could provide them with this. So i printed it, with black PLA+ filament with results that where above expectation. While removing the print support my eye fell on my old spray can of Corax White model paint and without even really thinking about it too much, just following my impulse/flow, the cow changed from black too white. Having only a few colours on hand and realising the fact that the White Scar i used on the Normandy was empty/dried out shouldn't stop me from finishing his mini, so i marched on! Accepting that the white undercoat paint was all i had and move on. Luckily some colours that, in the colour scheme i needed, were still usable from my old paint stash. So i finished it with a somewhat fleshtone, brown and black.
So with great pride i present you: My Cow! Any beginner friendly suggestions and comments for improvements?
Left side
right side
First attempt complete! And bought some cheaper paint from a local crafts shop and started on some easy and beginner friendly terrain pieces (The Great Torbridge, made and sold by Infinite Dimensions. but not a mini so no pictures of that included)
My first attempt, that i planned to be way too complicated for my current skillset.
submitted by WorthTooMuch to minipainting [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 22:27 this_one_wasnt_taken What is proper playground etiquette for a dad?

How do you all deal with other parents?
This experience has been bothering me. I was at the park with my boys a few weeks ago. They were playing with other kids. A little girl was going across the monkey bars, fell, landed flat on her back. I could tell by the sounds of the scream she knocked the wind of of her and scared herself. I did the is usual "ooooooo" and yelled if she was okay. I hadn't got up from the bench yet.
All of a sudden, a dad comes up to me and tells me to leave his kids alone, not to talk to her, and to mind my own business. Realistically, probably a good 45 seconds of being hollered at by another man standing over me.
Dick punch was the first impulse, but I just asked the dude what he was on about, and he left.
I get that parents are protective. But we're all right there. If someone pushes my kids on the swing, or I spin other kids around on the spinning top of death no one has batted an eye.
My wife says I need to let it go, men aren't allowed to help other kids. My neighbor, also a father about the same age says, I should have just sat there and let her scream, you aren't allowed to be concerned. I thought I just ran into an asshole.
Question is, what's the proper etiquette? Do I mind my own business? Help anyway and deal with the occasional angry dad? I'm to old to get into fights. My kids don't need to see me get my ass kicked, and I don't need to embarrass someone else's dad.
submitted by this_one_wasnt_taken to daddit [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 22:26 Sorry-Cherry-6926 How should I set up heat for my babies who are roosting?

Hi all,
I have two baby chicks about 3.5 weeks old. I gave them to a broody hen who took care of them for their first 3.5 weeks of life, but now she’s laying and she’s back sleeping on the upper roosting bar. The chicks are trying to sleep on a lower roosting bar, this morning I found one of them sitting on the orange light for the extension cord, so I think she’s cold. I have heat lamps, which I know can cause fire damage, and I’d like to avoid shining a light in the coop as it upsets the fully grown girls. Is there any way I can get a brooder heater to sit level on the roosting bar for them? The roosting bar the babies are on is only 2” wide, but is it about 3’ in the air? What would you do in my situation? Many thanks
submitted by Sorry-Cherry-6926 to BackYardChickens [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 22:23 this_one_wasnt_taken How do you all deal with other parents?

This experience has been bothering me. I was at the park with my boys a few weeks ago. They were playing with other kids. A little girl was going across the monkey bars, fell, landed flat on her back. I could tell by the sounds of the scream she knocked the wind of of her and scared herself. I did the is usual "ooooooo" and yelled if she was okay. I hadn't got up from the bench yet.
All of a sudden, a dad comes up to me and tells me to leave his kids alone, not to talk to her, and to mind my own business. Realistically, probably a good 45 seconds of being hollered at by another man standing over me.
Dick punch was the first impulse, but I just asked the dude what he was on about, and he left.
I get that parents are protective. But we're all right there. If someone pushes my kids on the swing, or I spin other kids around on the spinning top of death no one has batted an eye.
My wife says I need to let it go, men aren't allowed to help other kids. My neighbor, also a father about the same age says, I should have just sat there and let her scream, you aren't allowed to be concerned. I thought I just ran into an asshole.
Question is, what's the proper etiquette? Do I mind my own business? Help anyway and deal with the occasional angry dad? I'm to old to get into fights. My kids don't need to see me get my ass kicked, and I don't need to embarrass someone else's dad.
submitted by this_one_wasnt_taken to parentsofmultiples [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 22:21 stealthship1 Oscar Whent, Lord of Harrenhal (AC Included)

Discord Name: Ben
Name and House: Oscar Whent
Age: 75
Appearance: A knight past his prime, Lord Oscar has held the Lordship of Harrenhal for decades now and has witnessed his fair share of joyous occasions and tragedies.
Gifts: Leadership
Skills: Covert, Logistician (E), Strategist, Tactician
Talents: Drinking, Hunting, Reading
Negative Traits: Old Age
Starting Titles: Lord of Harrenhal
Starting Location: King's Landing
Family Tree: House Whent of Harrenhal
Alternate Characters: N/a
PC Timeline
132 AC: Born to Ser Walter Whent and his wife, a daughter of a household knight at Harrenhal, where they had been taken into service by the castle’s new overlord House Lothston.
142 AC: Oscar was taken in by Lord Otto Lothston as a page.
143 AC: Oscar was taken in as a squire by Ser Franklyn Lothston and would accompany him during the Second Dance.
146 AC: Ser Franklyn, now Lord Lothston, succumbs to his wounds not long after the end of the war. His father and brothers all died in the war and thus ended their line. Ser Walter Whent, himself wounded from the war, was granted the castle by the Crown.
149 AC: Oscar is knighted by his father and marries Lady Ellyn Wode, the sister of the Knight of House Wode.
150 AC: Oscar and Ellyn’s first son Simon is born. Lord Walter Whent dies two days later and Oscar inherits Harrenhal.
152 AC: His first daughter Alys is born.
155 AC: His second son Osmund is born
157 AC: His second daughter Danelle is born
164 AC: The Third Dance commences and Lord Oscar marches to fight in the war, his brother Ser Oswell dies in the conflict.
169 AC: Ser Simon Whent marries Lady Hayford at Harrenhal.
170 AC: His first grandson, Addam is born.
171 AC: Lady Alys Whent marries Lord Butterwell at Whitewalls.
172 AC: His grandson Damon is born.
176 AC: His granddaughter Jeyne is born
177 AC: Lady Danelle Whent marries Edmure Tully at Riverrun.
180 AC: His grandson Lucas is born
186 AC: The Fourth Dance begins and Lord Oscar marches to war with Ser Simon, Ser Osmund, Addam, and Damon to partake in the fighting. Ser Simon is slain in battle though he is avenged by his brother and son. Ser Osmund is raised to the Kingsguard by the end of the war and Addam is knighted.
189 AC: Ser Addam marries Lady Darry on the first day of the new year at Harrenhal. She would give birth to twins later that year, Rosamund and Robert, though she would suffer greatly and the Maester earned another pregnancy would kill her.
190 AC: Ser Damon’s mistress, Missy of Harrentown, gives birth to a healthy baby boy named Harwin Rivers. She dies days later of complications and Damon is slain in Harrentown a fortnight later by her brothers in a bar fight.
204 AC: Having negotiated a marriage between Amarei Lannister and his grandson Lucas, the Whents attend the upcoming wedding only for Ser Addam to find his sister Jeyne abed with Amory Lannister. Challenging the man to a duel for her honor, Ser Addam slays the Lion. The marriage is called off and both Westerlands and Riverlands nearly come to war over the incident. Lady Jeyne is married to a household knight, Ser Tristifer Lansdale.
206 AC: Ser Addam dies when he is thrown from his horse in the Flowstone Yard. His son, the newly knighted Robert Whent is named the new Heir of Harrenhal.
207 AC: King Maelor II invites the realm to Dragonstone for a feast.
AC Character
Name and House: Ser Osmund Whent
Age: 52
Appearance: Years of duty have begun to wear on the face of the aging knight, though his skills remain sharp.
Gift: Duelist
Skills: Polearms, Knightly, Defender (E), Hale
Talents: Hunting, Fighting, Reading
Starting Titles: Knight of the Kingsguard
Starting Location: King's Landing
AC Timeline
155 AC: Born to Lord Oscar Whent and Lady Ellyn Wode.
165 AC: Sent to Harroway to foster and squire for Lord Harroway.
173 AC: Knighted by Lord Harroway and returns to Harrenhal.
175 AC: Refuses to be betrothed to Lord Harroway’s daughter leading to a crisis between lord and vassal. Several attempts at betrothing him fail.
186 AC: Joins his family in fighting the Fourth Dance. His brother Simon is slain but Osmund kills his way through the Dornish and other sellswords to avenge him with his nephew Addam. He is approached to join the Kingsguard at war’s end and accepts, continuing to serve to this day.
Ser Robert Whent - Swords
Rosamund Whent - Alchemy
submitted by stealthship1 to FieldOfFire [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 22:18 AutoModerator WHERE TO WATCH The Machine (2023) Fullmovie Online Free Reddit?

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In addition to being Johnson's DC Universe debut, “Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine” is also notable for marking the return of Henry Cavill's Superman. The cameo is likely to set up future showdowns between the two characters, but Hodge was completely unaware of it until he saw the film.
“They kept that all the way under wraps, and I didn't know until maybe a day or two before the premiere,” he recently said Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine FULLMOVIE ONLINE
Is Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine Available On Hulu?Viewers are saying that they want to view the new TV show Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine on Hulu. Unfortunately, this is not possible since Hulu currently does not offer any of the free ****odes of this series streaming at this time. the MTV channel, which you get by subscribing to cable or satellite TV services. You will not be able to watch it on Hulu or any other free streaming service.
Is Filmmakers for the The Machine Fullmovie Online For Free on Disney Plus?
Unfortunately, Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine is not currently available to stream on Disney Plus and it's not expected that the film will release on Disney Plus until late December at the absolute earliest.
While Disney eventually releases its various studios' films on Disney Plus for subscribers to watch via its streaming platform, most major releases don't arrive on Disney Plus until at least 45-60 days after the film's theatrical release.
Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine has finally ended the box office blues. It will be a close call, but based on the estimates, the year's biggest opener remains Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness with its $187 million start. Nonetheless, Wakanda Forever's $180 million opening is a huge one, being the biggest ever for the month of November (beating the $158 million of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire), the second biggest of the year, and the 13th biggest of all time (though it could go up or down a few slots once the actuals come out). It led an overall weekend box office of $208 million, which is the fourth biggest of the year and the biggest by a long shot of the past four months, with no other weekend since July 8 -10 even going above $133 million.
This isn't the $202 million opening that we saw from Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine in February 2018, nor should we expect the amazing legs that were able to get that film to an astonishing $700 million. With that said, expect it to perform strong throughout the holiday season, likely repeating the five-weekend number-one streak that the first film had, and it shouldn't have any trouble becoming the second highest grossing film of the year so far, beating the $411 million cume of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. The audience response is strong, with the A CinemaScore falling below the first film's A+ but bouncing back from the B+'s earned by Doctor Strange 2 and Thor: Love and Thunder, which ranked among the worst for the MCU. improvement over the recent franchise installations,with the aforementioned films coming in at 74% and 64% respectively on Rotten Tomatoes, both at the lower end for Marvel films, while Wakanda Forever's 84% ​​​is closer to franchise norms, though not meeting the high bar set by the first Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine's 96%.
The sequel opened to $150 million internationally, which Disney reports is 4% ahead of the first film when comparing like for likes at current exchange rates. Overall, the global cume comes to $330 million. Can it become the year's third film to make it past $1 billion worldwide despite China and Russia, which made up around $124 million of the first film's $682 million international box office, being out of play? It may be tough, but it's not impossible. Legging out past $500 million is plausible on the domestic front (that would be a multiplier of at least 2.7), and another $500 million abroad would be a drop of around $58 million from the original after excluding the two MIA markets. It'd be another story if audiences didn't love the film,but the positive reception suggests that Wakanda Forever will outperform the legs on this year's earlier MCU titles (Multiverse of Madness and Love and Thunder had multipliers of 2.2 and 2.3 respectively).
As for the rest of the box office, there's little to get excited about, with nothing else grossing above $10 million as Hollywood shied away from releasing anything significant not just this weekend but also over the previous two weekends. When Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine opened in 2018, there was no counterprogramming that opened the same weekend, but Peter Rabbit and Fifty Shades Freed were in their second weekends and took second and third with $17.5 million and $17.3 million respectively. That weekend had an overall cume of $287 million compared to $208 million this weekend Take away the $22 million gap between the two Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine films and there's still a $57 million gap between the two weekends. The difference may not feel that large when a mega blockbuster is propping up the grosses,but the contrast is harsher when the mid-level films are the entire box office as we saw in recent months.
Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine, which is the biggest grosser of the rough post-summer, pre-Wakanda Forever season, came in second with just $8.6 million. Despite the blockbuster competition that arrived in its fourth weekend, the numbers didn't totally collapse, dropping 53 % for a cume of $151 million. Worldwide it is at $352 million, which isn't a great cume as the grosses start to wind down considering its $200 million budget. Still, it's the biggest of any film since Thor: Love and Thunder, though Wakanda Forever will overtake it any day now.
Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine came in third place in its fourth weekend, down 29% with $6.1 million, emerging as one of the season's most durable grossers and one of the year's few bright spots when it comes to films for adults. The domestic cume is $56.5 million Fourth place went to Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile, which had a negligible drop of 5% for a $3.2 million sixth weekend and $40.8 million cume., in fact )
, which isn't surprising considering it's the only family film on the market, and it's close to grossing four times its $11.4 million opening. Still, the $72.6 million worldwide cume is soft given the $50 million budget , though a number of international markets have yet to open.
Finishing up the top five is Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine, which had its biggest weekend drop yet, falling 42% for a $2.3 million seventh weekend. Of course, that's no reason to frown for the horror film, which has a domestic cume of $103 million and global cume of $ 210 million from a budget of just $20 million.
The one new specialty title of note comes from a filmmaker we don't typically associate with the specialty box office: Steven Spielberg. The Beard's semi-autobiographical family drama Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine opened in four theaters in New York and Los Angeles to $160k, a $40k average. The film expands to 600 theaters the day before Thanksgiving, and it has the potential to break out in a way that none of the other of the season's awards contenders have. We're also seeing very solid numbers from Watch ‘Filmmakers for the The Machine, which grossed $1.7 million this weekend for a seventh place finish, bringing its cume to $5.8
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2023.05.30 22:15 Sillygoose249 Hijabi in distress

I created a throwaway account because I need to get a few things off my chest.
I grew up in a religious household, with my parents being practicing Muslims. As a child, I wholeheartedly believed that Islam was the right religion, and I became devoted to practicing it myself. When I turned 17, I made the decision to wear the hijab, a significant step towards expressing my faith. Now, at 28 years old, I find myself reflecting on my journey and questioning various fundamental aspects of my life, particularly my religious beliefs.
Growing up, life became increasingly challenging, and I started to harbor doubts about many aspects of my faith. I discovered that culture plays a significant role in shaping religion, sometimes even overshadowing its core teachings. These realizations led me to gradually practice my faith less and less, and I would now describe myself as agnostic. While I'm not entirely certain about my beliefs, the concept of a higher power resonates with me, and I feel their presence most strongly when I express gratitude.
Despite my evolving beliefs, one thing remains unchanged: I still wear the hijab. It has been an integral part of my identity for the past decade, and I find it incredibly difficult to part ways with it. Even though I no longer practice my religion, I struggle to let go of this symbolic garment. At times, I feel like an imposter because people assume I am devoutly religious due to my hijab. On the other hand, I sometimes worry that I may be disrespecting the significance of the hijab by not aligning it with my current lifestyle. It feels peculiar to see someone wearing a hijab in a bar, doesn't it?
Wearing the hijab has presented its own set of challenges in my personal life. It has become a hurdle in my search for a compatible partner. Religious individuals often approach me, assuming we share the same core beliefs, only to realize that there are fundamental differences that cannot be easily overcome. On the other hand, some people might refrain from approaching me, assuming that I am too religious for them. This situation has left me feeling caught between worlds, struggling to find someone who truly understands and accepts me for who I am.
I'm not entirely sure if this is the right platform to express my thoughts, but the act of putting my feelings into words and sharing them feels liberating. It's a way for me to acknowledge the complex journey I've been on and find solace in knowing that I'm not alone in grappling with these conflicts
submitted by Sillygoose249 to self [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 22:03 YeahhhhhWhateverrrr Would you say soldier boy is "evil" like homelander, or just a bad, bigoted, guy from the era?

Beating the piss out of his team and being a bigot like most people of his era were, does that make you straight up evil? In the same way homelander or storm front are? Soldier boy wasn't murdering his team until after they sold him to infinite torture to the soviets.... I think his anger there is justified regardless of how abusive he was honestly. That's crossing a new line... Worse than killing the guy. Way worse.
That's what made soldier boy so interesting. He's a bad guy, who is willing and even at times wants, to do the "right thing". Dude is just too confused and bigoted and old, to understand what the hell the right thing is at times. He clearly thinks homelander is bad. Beyond his agreement with butcher. Homelander was not purely a hit for soldier boy. Like, he'd punch Hughie in the face. But he'd never kill him out of annoyance like homelander would.
Soldier boy, is definitely definitely not a facist. Lol. That's not a high bar to clear or anything. But relative to other villains in the show..
Idk, I think it was a MAJOR mistake to lock the guy up in the box lol. They should have used the guy. "Trained" him. Acclimated him to 2020. Used him until the big threats were gone, and if he's still an issue he'd be much much easier to deal with than homelander. That's what I would have done. He can be reasoned with to a degree.
Cause I think if they were just like, aye these dudes are evil facist, will you help me murder them? He'd be all "sure bud, lemme grab my weed". And they'd be off.
submitted by YeahhhhhWhateverrrr to TheBoys [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 21:51 Reldan71 Triton Vice + Edge of Concurrence - Two bad exotics form like Voltron to make something good!

Hey all, I like Glaives. I've crafted every glaive, sometimes multiple of the same to have different perk combinations, and used them in PvE, PvP, Gambit - I pretty much have tried everything everywhere to see what works and what doesn't.
I'll be honest, I was not happy with Triton Vice when I first laid my hands on it. It doesn't really feel like it fits the Glaive playstyle - it's purely offense and does absolutely nothing to benefit the shield aspect of glaives - their most powerful capability and biggest reason you'd use them. It has a 30% melee damage buff but only while surrounded. It grants an explosive effect but only on shot final blows. It gives you an overflowing shot reload but only on melee final blows. Put together it's clunky because you need packs of red bars to take advantage of the melee boost and free reload, but half the benefit of the weapon is clearing packs of red bars with explosive shots. It's murky what the gameplay loop is supposed to be, which normally is a bit more obvious with most exotics.
There are a few standout pairings for this exotic - it works nicely with destabilizing rounds, and is decent with Vexcalibur. But the elemental match requirement frankly means you're running Void with either of these options, and with how Void 3.0 works right now, Gyrfalcon is going to do more for you. Going with Triton Vice means you're choosing a weaker exotic option just to try and make it feel like it's doing something, and that doesn't feel great.
But... what if I told you that there is a glaive that fits the Triton Vice playstyle perfectly? A glaive that also is all about offense? A glaive most of you probably haven't touched in over a year, if ever?
Edge of Concurrence. The granddaddy of exotic glaives, and almost certainly at launch one of the worst exotic weapons in the game. Even with substantial buffs to both glaives in general and it particularly, it's still weak as hell and nobody uses it.
What is this glaive? It's a special frame that holds 7 shots and has a faster firing rate than any of the other glaives. 80rpm while other glaives are 45rpm or 55rpm. This makes it noticeably snappier and makes the shot mode feel good to use. It's big perk though is that when you have full glaive energy you can unleash a special shot that does massive damage and sends out tracking lightning bolts to kill everything nearby.
I'm using it now though with Triton Vice, and having a lot of fun. This thing hits like a truck.
Why though? What's changed? Two massive things. First, the change to Lucent Blade with Armor 3.0 is probably the biggest stealth buff to Edge of Concurrence imaginable. They changed this chest mod from giving a sword damage buff in the old mod system, to now giving a sword charge rate increase AND, importantly, a glaive energy gain boost. Glaives normally get 25% energy per hit, and each Lucent Blade mod adds 5%. Two mods bring it up to 35%, which means fully charged energy in only 3 shots.
Second, the interaction between the Triton Vice explosion and the Edge of Concurrence lightning blast. With Triton Vice on, every enemy killed by the Edge's special shot also explodes. The special shot does so much damage that any red bar is going to die, even on harder content. Which generally means though that with the Triton Vice explosions they take any majors nearby down with them. It's just a glorious burst of lightning that wipes out everything. It feels practically like you're shooting a rocket launcher.
In fact, it's better honestly to think of this as less of a glaive and more like, say, a really fast firing Mountaintop. You technically can shield with it, but you shouldn't use your glaive energy for that unless it's life-or-death. Having access to the glaive melee is icing on the cake, but you don't need to rely on it.
The kicker is that with two Lucent Blade mods, you only have to shoot two more enemies after landing the special shot to do it again. Yeah, hitting with the special shot actually gives you 35% weapon energy back, already putting you a third of the way to being fully charged again. It's an 80rpm weapon which means you can get it back to charged in less than 2 seconds. Rinse and repeat. Consider that the original design and balancing of this glaive was when it was expected to take 6 hits to charge up a single special shot. We're at less than half of that, but the damage the lightning shot does was never adjusted down to compensate. The DPS is not a slouch when used this way, and the total damage gets pretty high since it means every 3rd shot is doing bonkers damage while still just using one ammo. This exotic is pure shoot-shoot-shoot mayhem, and takes the approach that you don't have to guard if there's nothing left alive to shoot you. And that's the trick to remember, don't guard and waste that precious glaive energy if you can help it.
I'll be honest, I don't play a ton of Arc Hunter - outside of melee builds with Liar's Handshake or Assassin's Cowl, I haven't really found a lot of other good builds that I find fun. But this is an alternate way to build an Arc Hunter. Get amplified, go wild. Use leg mods to heal off of orb pickups. Use the fragment that lets you generate orbs with kills while amplified. This is particularly nice for when you are doing glaive melees. Run special finisher so you can always keep your ammo topped off. You can use this glaive like your primary, and it's such a good time.
So yeah, I normally haven't liked Triton Vice. I normally don't like Edge of Concurrence. But there is a build that ties the two together and makes them much more than the sum of their parts, and I encourage you to go build this forgotten glaive and give it a whirl.
*And Bungie, if you read this, please consider adding a siphon-style mod for glaive melee. It absolutely sucks that you normally cannot get orbs with multikills this way. You want people to use glaives? You want people to buildcraft around Armor Charge? This needs to happen. Also consider having Triton Vice's "reload a shot" perk just create the ammo instead of pulling from reserves. I guarantee that isn't going to make this exotic OP, and it would feel a lot better to help address the glaive's issues around ammo economy.
submitted by Reldan71 to DestinyTheGame [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 21:45 nickderrico82 Good restaurants and bars for older millennials?

Hey, I tried a couple Google searches for some suggestions but it's a pretty niche question so I'm hoping somebody from the area can help!
My wife and are 40/37 and heading to Denver for a getaway at the end of the month. We are looking for some cool places for food and drinks where we won't feel too old but won't be surrounded by families (we don't have kids). We are young at heart, so we generally gravitate to the cool, trendy spots, but we occasionally feel out of place. Both of us like being social but our last two trips out to big cities had us feeling isolated when every person sitting at the bar was 10+ years younger.
I'm totally aware it's a weird question but I'm hoping someone out there can relate lol. We like all types of food, cocktails, and craft beer. Thanks!
submitted by nickderrico82 to denverfood [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 21:43 LunalGalgan META: So, let's talk about the subreddit, week 2...

This is a continuation of the META thread.
This week's topics:
And with that, I open the floor to questions, suggestions, and other constructive comments.
submitted by LunalGalgan to wheeloftime [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 21:38 xtremexavier15 TSWT 22 (pt 1)

Girls: Eva, Izzy
Boys: Ezekiel, Mal, Topher
Episode 22: Rapa Phooey
"Last time, on Total Drama World Tour!" Chris opened, the recap beginning with a pan across the Serengeti ending in the castmates reacting with shock. "Africa! Come for the safari, stay for the near-death experience!" The host adopted a vaguely 'African' accent for the next line, as clips of the rhino and lion were shown.
"Here we played a few rounds of the world's favorite game," he said over portions of the contestants getting hit by soccer balls. "And then, we went on a wild alien hunt!" Ezekiel Clone was shown popping out of a bush and sniffing around, then the teens shot their tranq balls at each other."'cept nobody told Owen it was open season on him!" Chris chuckled as the big guy was shown first getting tackled by Ezekiel Clone, and then trying to keep him away from his face.
"And after all that," Eva shot Owen and the clone to sleep, "everyone managed to get Mal the Malicious voted out," Mal was shown to be upset about the vote. "Harsh!"
"Mal managed to live on for another day thanks to Owen neglecting the rules of the show, which was to sing," Owen was shown going back to sleep and departing the plane. "That's gotta be tough!"
The recap ended and the scene flashed to the cockpit. "Can it get any wilder?" Chris asked the camera. "Oh yeah it can!" he danced, the grand title tune of the season beginning unusually early. "It's Final Five time, right here on Total! Drama! World Tour!"
The camera zoomed out as usual, the final shot showing another airplane flying across in the far distance.
After the usual opening shot of the plane in flight, the scene cut inside to first class as Eva stretched her arms up above her head and sighed.
"Strange. I never got interrupted by Izzy singing about the monkeys on the walls," Eva said as she looked around. "Oh right. Izzy's not in first class this time."
"And I couldn't be any more glad," Topher sighed comfortably. The camera cut over to the opposite side to show Topher leaning back on his couch. "If she was here again, she'd be too much of a god player."
"You're lucky I brought you up here for a purpose, or else I'd pick Ezekiel instead," Eva brought up.
Confessional: Topher
"So because I was affiliated with Mal, I know Eva wants information from me about how to stop him," Topher confessed. "I'll give her some tips, but it's going to come with a fee."
Confessional Ends
Topher was pushing a cart filled with candy. "While you were sleeping, Chris delivered your prize for winning," he explained.
"Candy? Is that the best he can do?" Eva griped.
"I have a sweet tooth, so I wouldn't mind taking some of these sweets myself." Topher grabbed a couple of lollipops and caramel apples and shoved them into his pockets.
"I don't want to discuss candy with you," Eva clarified. "I just want to know-"
"How to take down Mal because I cooperated with him," Topher finished her sentence.
"I was going to finish that," Eva reminded the dirty blond.
"I'll help you, but on one condition," Topher said.
"What could it be?" Eva raised her unibrow.
"You have to promise that you'll let me win the next challenge," Topher revealed his goal.
Eva scoffed. "Forget it. I like to win, and no way will I let you claim victory at any time."
Topher sniffed and pulled the cart away. "It's your loss and funeral."
Confessional: Eva
"Topher's nowhere near as bad as Mal, but he sure is annoying. Give up a chance of winning? I want to take down Mal, but not if it comes to that," Eva made clear to the viewers.
Confessional Ends
As the scene moved to economy class, the silhouette of Ezekiel Clone could be seen standing just outside the opening to the compartment. The shot panned over to Ezekiel and Izzy sitting on one of the benches.
"The silent treatment?" Mal scoffed as he was in view of the camera. "Really?"
"What else did you expect?" Ezekiel rudely told him. "Us flying over a rainbow?"
"Nope, because rainbows are sanguine," Mal spat out.
"If you want us to work with you, then you can forget it," Izzy said. "I don't trust liars, and I'm looking at one right now."
"I don't have to take any of this," Mal said to the girl. "Owen may be gone, but you will join him next."
"We'll just have to see about that, Mal!" Izzy retorted as Mal left her and Ezekiel alone.
"What a knob," Ezekiel muttered under his breath. "Did you two know each other before the show, because he certainly hates you the most out of everyone here."
"We went to the same juvenile center, and the both of us were very well-known for what we did that got us arrested," Izzy answered.
"Did you happen to know Duncan before you joined the show?" Ezekiel followed up.
"I never personally talked to him, but he also knew about Mal," Izzy said.
"I can't believe I never listened to Sky and Duncan when they said that something was off about that guy," Ezekiel grumbled. "Now that they're gone, we're lacking a bit of strength against Mal."
"Zeke, they may be out of the game, but that doesn't mean we can't all work together," Izzy stated. "It's four of us against one of him after all."
"Yeah," Ezekiel agreed, though confusion crept up inside him. "Wait, this includes Topher, right?"
"Definitely, but I still haven't forgotten how he got rid of my friends," Izzy said. "Once Mal goes, he's next."
"I am in an alliance with him, but that'll end if Mal is eliminated," Ezekiel said. "For now, let's get Topher and Eva to see the reason as to why we should be a team eh."
"I like the way you think," Izzy smirked at him.
Confessional: Ezekiel
"We were able to vote for Mal last time, but because of the sing or get eliminated rule, Owen had to leave. As long as Mal doesn't win and we all sing, the votes won't be ignored," Ezekiel deduced. "I'm not stupid, just a bit ignorant and naive."
Confessional Ends
"Attention passengers," Chris announced over the loudspeaker as the plane was shown beginning to descend, "please prepare for landing!"
The scene cut inside the cockpit as the host hung up the microphone and looked at Chef. "C'mon, just let me fly it once!" he pleaded to the unflinching pilot. "What can it hurt? It's technically my plane, you know."
He reached over for the controls, but Chef quickly turned to stop him and the two grown men engaged in a slap-fight. The jet was shown wobbling and losing altitude dramatically, cries of "My pinkie!" and "Hey!" coming from Chris and Chef inside.
The camera moved to ground-level at an island beach, a moai statue prominently in the foreground as the plane rapidly descended towards it and the camera. "Oh no!" Chris screamed as the plane flew forward, clipping the moai statue with its wing as it swung stage right and knocking the giant head over.
"Gosh darn it!" Chef swore from off-screen.
Seagulls were crying off-camera as the scene flashed forward, showing Eva and Mal walking up to the fallen statue.
"Another piece of world heritage destroyed," Mal remarked cynically.
"That won't be the only thing that's getting destroyed today," Eva told him.
"Who, me?" Mal pretended to be shocked.
"I was thinking about Topher… of course it's you!" Eva said.
"You may have muscles that are bigger than my soul, but don't forget that I do have a brain," Mal said back.
It was then that the rest of the Final Five walked up to them. "These caramel apples are delicious," Ezekiel claimed while holding one. Izzy was snacking on a chocolate bar, and Topher popped a sweet into his mouth.
"This is even better than Cody's stash of candy," Izzy moaned at her chocolate.
"These dopes get the first class prizes and not me?" Mal reprimanded.
"Did you think I was going to reward you after everything you did?" Topher bluntly asked.
Confessional: Mal
"So many people to choose from," Mal pondered. "The hardest thing for me is deciding who I won't pick off."
Confessional Ends
Several more moai statues were shown dotting another stretch of beach, seagulls crying as the camera panned rightward to the five tired contestants climbing up the side of a steeper hill.
"'Iorana!" Chris greeted them from off-screen once they'd reached the top, startling the five with his appearance. He had once again appropriated a local costume, now nearly naked except for a small leather loincloth, furry shin guards, and a three-tiered feather headdress in blue, red, and green. He also wore a necklace of what looked like small pebbles and a curved bone in the middle of it, and had white lines running across his cheeks and down his bare chest.
"Wow Chris. You've been working out," Chris commented in a pleased tone.
"And welcome to Easter Island," Chris continued. "Aka, Rapa Nui! Place is old," he explained. "These dudes were carved so long ago," he gestured at another moai, "no one even remembers why anymore! Ten bucks says it started as a dare," he said with a cheeky smile.
"Twenty bucks says get on with it!" Eva griped.
"Yeah," Chris deadpanned before continuing. "Today, you, our Final Five, are going on a highly traditional Easter Island egg hunt," he explained as the shot panned across the five teens.
"Are we gonna be hunting for chocolate Easter eggs?" Izzy asked eagerly after taking a bite from her chocolate bar.
"Uhh, no. I'm talking the old school kind of eggs," Chris replied, "the kind that come from birds, y'know those flying things with feathers and talons and vicious kill-you-in-a-second beaks?" The contestants gasped to varying degrees.
"Speaking of which," Chris said with a sly smile, bending over to pick up five feathered headdresses, "traditional feathered Rapa Nui headdresses! Wear 'em with pride, chickens!"
He tossed them into the hands of the contestants at the same time: blue for Mal, green for Eva, purple for Ezekiel, red for Topher, and yellow for Izzy.
The footage skipped forward a little ways to show Chris leading the Final Five, now wearing their headdresses, past a few more stone heads that seemed to have rather...unusual shapes.
"Hidden in these head things are a bunch of colored eggs that match the color of your...head thing," Chris told them.
"So you really did your research," Mal said dryly.
"Your challenge," Chris continued, "to find three eggs in your color. Then make a break for the massive underground cavern system and book it all the way up to the highest point on the island." The camera panned away from the host as he gave his explanation, showing a nearby cave entrance first before quick-panning upwards to another cave on top of a high hill.
"Reach the top with all three eggs to begin the second part of today's challenge," the host explained as the shot cut back to him and the Final Five.
"What happens if we drop an egg?" Izzy asked.
"You'll have to come all the way back here for a replacement," Chris answered, causing Topher to quickly raise his hand. "And no," Chris said in anticipation of the next question, "you can not take a back-up egg." Topher lowered his hand in annoyance. "First to the top gets a big advantage in part two," the host said, the shot zooming out to show the backs of the contestants. "Now, scramble!"
At his command, the five turned and ran towards the stone heads.
Izzy and Topher ran up to two of the giant heads and paused to look up at them.
"These look really familiar," Izzy commented, the camera panning up to show that the two they were standing in front of had been carved to look like Lindsay and Shawn.
Izzy gasped and continued looking on to the right. "It's everyone who's been eliminated," she commented in shock as the camera panned across statues that looked like Jo, Rodney, Duncan, and Amy.
With a few grunts of effort, Topher began climbing up a statue of Lindsay, while Izzy did the same with Shawn. It wasn't long before Izzy managed to reach inside the statue's hat and pull out an egg.
"I got one!" Izzy said with delight, before seeing its red color. "That's not mine."
"Blue's my color," Topher commented as he clung to Lindsay's ear. "Hand it over."
Izzy thought about it, but decided to throw the red egg over to Topher. "If we're going to get rid of Mal, we'll have to work together."
"I'll remember that when I locate one of your eggs," Topher told her before dropping down from Lindsay's statue with his egg.
Meanwhile, Ezekiel had climbed on to Sadie's head and smiled when he pulled a purple egg from behind her hair. "You are so helpful to me, Sadie," he said, giving the statue a kiss.
"I wish I could say the same thing about Ella," Eva commented, pulling out what looked like a yellow bird out of her ear. She let it fly, then scoffed. "I do not know what goes on in her head 24/7."
The shot cut to Cody's statue, then panned down to Mal as he looked it over. "I hope that dingo didn't take away your brain cells," he taunted, kicking the statue's base. A blue egg fell from his tooth and landed in Mal's hands. "Perfect."
The camera cut to Heather's statue, where a green egg could be seen in her ear. Izzy jumped onto the statue with a grunt, then pulled the egg from its hiding spot. "Excellent! One for me!" she cheered. "I just need something to carry it in," she said thoughtfully. The camera briefly cut to a patch of long grass and back to her smiling eagerly.
The footage skipped ahead to show the psycho girl, now with a yellow egg in a bjorn made from the grass she'd spotted earlier, searching at the head of Amy. "Yeah!" she cheered as she pulled out a yellow egg. "Another one! And one for Eva as well!" she said as she pulled out a green egg. "I should go give this to her."
The camera cut to Eva about to climb Duncan's statue, until the sound of footsteps caught her attention.
"Eva!" Izzy cried as she ran over. "I found one of your eggs!" She thrusted the egg into the bodybuilder's basket.
"Really?" Eva wondered.
"I know you'd do the same for me given the situation we're in," Izzy said.
"First Ella and now you?" Eva asked. "Why do I keep getting unwanted assistance in the game?"
"'Cause we're Team E-Scope, Eva," Izzy responded.
Confessional: Izzy
"Me and Izzy are currently the last girls left in the competition," Izzy explained. "With Noah and Owen gone, the boys outnumber us. That won't be a bad thing if Topher and Ezekiel are with us."
Confessional: Eva
"Now I'm starting to consider letting Topher win if it'll defeat Mal," Eva said. "The contestants help me even when I don't ask for it. Maybe I should return the favor for the first time."
Confessionals End
Rodney's stoney rendition was shown next, a red egg nestled in his right ear. Topher was currently trying to reach it, but the height of his head and the egg he was trying to hold on to was making it difficult.
Topher stretched out his arm enough to just barely brush the egg with his fingertips. Unfortunately, this only served to unbalance the egg; it wobbled a bit, then fell forward and cracked on the stone below.
"It was strategy. Nothing against you," Topher groaned, jumping down to the ground.
"You clearly don't have anything to put your eggs in," Izzy commented as she and Eva walked over to the Chris fan. "We'll help you out, but you have to give us our eggs if you find them."
"It's a deal," Topher agreed quickly. "I don't even care who wins anymore, as long as it's not Mal."
Confessional: Topher
"I'm out of my league for this one. I had to convince Izzy to give me one of my eggs," Topher admitted embarrassingly. "Not a good look for me."
Confessional Ends
The scene moved back to Mal walking around with three eggs in his basket.
"How did you manage to find three eggs while I only found two?" Ezekiel asked in astonishment.
"I can utilize the abilities of my slaves, and Manitoba is very useful indeed," Mal chuckled.
"Calling your personalities 'slaves' is not a good thing to do eh," Ezekiel called him out.
"So does picking your nose or offending women," Mal teased.
Ezekiel squinted his eyes at Mal and turned his heel. "I'm trying to grow out of that. Now leave me alone!"
Confessional: Ezekiel
"I'm really starting to get tired of people bringing up the bad stuff I did in the past," Ezekiel groaned.
Confessional Ends
The scene flashed to the beach near where the plane had landed. Chef and a pair of interns were now trying to move the knocked-over moai back upright, with Chef pulling on a rope in front while the interns pushed from behind.
Chef groaned and grunted in exertion, but paused when the host's voice came in over a walkie-talkie in his pocket. "This is King of all Chrisdom seeking Bitty Baby, over!" Chris said. Chef let go of his rope to pull out the communicator, and the moai head fell back over onto the two interns that had been trying to push it.
"When you're done slackin', think you can give me a hand?" Chris asked.
A flash took the focus back to Mal, who was looking rather tired as he trekked uphill through the underground cavern system.
"It's a good thing I didn't eat those sweets otherwise I wouldn't be able to trek uphill for much longer," he grumbled.
Mal then heard something approaching, and he looked forward again and went into a nook in the side of the tunnel just as a large spherical boulder barreled down the slope.
He leaned out with shock on his faces after the boulder left, and the camera cut to Eva, Ezekiel, Izzy, and Topher, who had also found three eggs each and started their journey through the caverns. They quickly spotted the approaching boulder, screamed, and ducked into crannies on opposite sides of the tunnel.
"You have got to be kidding!" Ezekiel exclaimed, the four poking their heads back out into the open.
The scene flashed to the cave's exit at the highest point of the island, where a cackling Chris watched as Chef pushed another large, spherical boulder into the caverns. He sighed mirthfully as the camera cut in for a close-up, then as the grand title theme began to play he told it "We've got tons more fun, literally," he motioned to a nearby pile of similar boulders, "right after this, on Total! Drama! World Tour!"
(Commercial Break)
submitted by xtremexavier15 to u/xtremexavier15 [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 21:30 ColdBlackWater St. Pancras

Somebody told me of a time slip account that one of their friends told them and it was where they were staying in a hotel in London, but were planning on going to St Pancras train station so that they could travel to Paris.
After leaving the hotel, they found that they had a while yet before their train to Paris left. When they were walking down the street towards St Pancras train station, they found a casino situated nearby, across the road from the St Pancras train station.
They decided to go to the casino to help kill a bit of time, and when they went in, the place was full of cigarette smoke. The music being played sounded 1960s , and they got welcomed into the casino by a woman who had a similar style; and the general look of the place was very old fashioned.
The friend then won some money when playing at one of the slot machines, and they decided to get a quick drink at the bar before leaving. They then left the casino and went to the St Pancras train station and head off to Paris for the day.
Upon arriving back in London in the evening, they decide to go back to the casino again.
Except they couldn't. It was nowhere to be found. They went back to the hotel and tried looking for the casino again early in the morning, but couldn't find it anywhere. They asked various people if there had ever been a casino near the St Pancras train station and the answer they got was no.
What seemed strange was how the money they won at the slot machine was modern British currency and when they got a drink at the bar, their modern British money was accepted.
submitted by ColdBlackWater to timeslip [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 21:28 RelativelyCool My best friend (F28) suddenly wanted to date me (M26) but ended it a few months after

TLDR: When I met my best friend two years ago, I crushed on her but repressed my feelings. After she broke up with her boyfriend, she started seeing my friend. It gutted me. After about half a year she expressed she wanted to kiss me. After about two months she ended it, and I'm now more gutted than I've ever been following a breakup.
It seems that a lot of people have been through a similar situation as this which has already put my mind a bit at ease, so take this as a bit of a rant.
I met my best friend at uni close to two years ago. She had a boyfriend back then, but I still developed a crush on her. Feelings I was able to push aside as I started feeling very content in our friendship. After a few months, she and her boyfriend broke up. She was pretty wrecked emotionally, and it pushed her back into a depression and spiked some anxiety she had been dealing with earlier in her life. I had been there for her when she was dealing with anxiety prior her breakup; holding her, talking to her about her feelings and just overall been there for her as a friend while not wanting to pursue any more.
After the breakup with her boyfriend, I continued being close friends with her. I had thought about telling her about my feelings, but decided I'd wait till she was in a better place and see where I was in my own love life when that happened.
Fast forward to summer, she expresses she wanted to go to a festival that I attend almost annually. I offered her to stay with my friends and I, and she agreed. She joined with a friend of hers. It was an overall bad idea. I saw her kiss a stranger, which made me feel gutted. After the festival, my good friend and old roommate pulled me aside, and told me that he had started seeing her, which only added to the pain. I didn't message her for the entire summer, but later found out that she had ended it with him only after a month, as she wasn't in a place where she wanted a relationship like he wanted. I never told her about my feelings towards it all.
It relieved me, but it also became very clear to me that she didn't have a romantic interest in me, so slowly I started to - once again - feeling very content in just being her close friends. She started dating other men, and I started pursuing other women - even wanting to pursue more with one, which I ended up talking to my best friend about. She was there for me throughout it.
After about another half a year, we were at the end of the following semester, and we agreed to hang out while we wrote on our exam papers. At this point in time I had put my feelings for her aside and I didn't really think about dating her anymore. She was seeing a guy she met on Tinder, but I had stopped pursing the woman I had seen priorly.
About a week after turning in the exam, I was doing a pubcrawl with some of my friends. She randomly messaged me at about 9 pm, asking me what I was doing. I told her, and we agreed she could meet up with us as I had introduced her to this friend group before.
We had fun, but at the last bar she suddenly pulled me aside, and told me about how stressful dating had been, she expressed that every time she had been on a date with this guy from Tinder, she felt anxious, and that when she got home, she couldn't stop thinking about me, and how easy it'd be to just date me instead, and that she's been wanting to kiss me all night. I was baffled. We spoke for a while, and I shared that I had crushed on her in the beginning. She said she had crushed on me too while she was with her ex, and that the circumstances meant we just became close friends instead. I also told her about how crushed I felt when she was seeing my friend, and she told me she had no idea I liked her. But then we did kiss, and I went home with her.
Very shortly after, we started seeing eachother more regularly. It became very relationship-esque. I came over for dinner, hung out with her and her roommates, slept in her bed, made breakfast and coffee for her when she was at my place, but after only about two months, she told me she had started getting second thoughts, and that she felt like our expectations wasn't aligned, and that she didn't think we should pursue it. We agreed it was for the best, but agreed meeting up about a week after just to catch up.
In the following week I was sad, but able to keep my mind off it. I think it was because I knew I was going to see her again, but before that day came, she messaged me saying she missed me, but she didn't know what that meant. I told her that I missed her too. The night after she asked if she could stay the night. She did.
But things hadn't really changed, and about two weeks later, she told me that she thought her coming over was selfish of her. She told me that the reason she had to stop it was because she couldn't find romantic feelings, despite knowing she cared deeply for me, and wanted to give me 'what i wanted and deserved', but couldn't. This time I was shattered. I told her I needed a break from seeing her for a while, but only a few days later I found myself (stupidly) texting her that I missed her. My head had been spiraling into chaos, overthinking every possible reason to why she suddenly stopped liking me. I found out that I probably liked her more than I thought.
Now, about a month and a half later, we're still trying to be friends. She loves me 'as a friend', and expresses that she also has the urge to show affection, but she knows it's for different reasons than me, and thus she doesn't want to act on them to not add to my confusion about the whole situation.
I care for her, and I want to hang out with her, but I do it with the expectation that it'll someday evolve into something more. She cares for me, and she wants to hang out for me, but she wants it because I'm her best friend. I'm now gutted, not knowing if I can continue to be her friend, despite wanting to, because I know I'll feel even more gutted the day she starts dating again. When I express this to her, she feels gutted too, and worry about our future. I don't know if I can get back out there unless I stop seeing her completely, but I'm also worried about pushing her away.
I think I just don't know what to do.
submitted by RelativelyCool to relationships [link] [comments]

2023.05.30 21:27 bart_cart_dart_eart Orlando Franklin’s El Presidente

Orlando Franklin’s El Presidente
Was listening to the Cocktail College podcast on the El Presidente and Franklin suggests using a pomegranate molasses as opposed to grenadine.
I followed the spec listen on the podcast page (attached pic) but it was WAY too sweet. Dialed the Molasses way back to a ¼ teaspoon and it felt better to me (next time I’ll also dial back the Cointreau and not totally convinced on the OB).
My question: Does anyone have experience making a stirred cocktail with any sort of Molasses? The problem I have is that before the cocktail is consumed the molasses starts to separate in the drink. Any fixes for that?
I don’t really want to shake it because I don’t think the drink warrants the aeration or added dilution.
submitted by bart_cart_dart_eart to Mixology [link] [comments]