Best sportsbook in south lake tahoe

Evening all. Hello from South Florida.
Not new to real estate but new to Arrive, in fact just learned who they were very recently. I am looking to invest in a STR unit. Without exposing yourself unnecessarily, what has been your experience on return per quarter for those of you that have invested $1,000 to those of you who have invested say up to $10,000? Everyone is different and every situation is different, just trying to validate that this is best to having your money sitting in the bank.
Thoughts?

I don't like calling myself a "survivor", because I don't think what I went through was anywhere near severe enough for me to consider myself that, especially when I look at the countless others that have gone through far worse, but there are those that insist that I am, so I figured I'd ask here.
This happened while I was living in Vegas a while back, when I was 19. I had just gotten off work at about 11 at night, and was waiting at the bus stop, when this dude who is very visibly drunk stumbles by and starts talking to me, asking for help. I don't remember exactly what he was asking, but he did ask me to head a little down the road with him, to where his family was staying. Even then, I knew the situation was very dangerous, but I was exhausted from work, so I wasn't capable of making the best judgement calls at the time. I also knew the area very well, was confident in my ability to fight the guy off if he became violent, and I was (and still kinda am) a bleeding heart when people in that state came to me for help. Vegas buses run fairly often, so I figured why not, and went with him.
I'll skip the unnecessary details, but keep in mind that I am a trans woman. I bring that up because he was very "romantically handsy" with me while we walked down the street; calling me his girlfriend, holding my hand, walking close, that sort of thing. Given his state, I didn't mind it too much, so I humored him and played along, always keeping on edge in case things went south. I didn't expect him to turn my head towards his and kiss me, though. It was certainly a lover's kiss, I'll say that much. I froze in shock for a moment, but began to push away when I felt him getting a little too comfortable with his hands, I'll say. He played it off like it was nothing and continued down the road. I, on the other hand, was definitely still shaken, though I put on my best customer service poker face to try and hide it. I felt violated, for sure, but I had at least stopped him before he went further. I wanted to turn and run back to the bus stop I was at, but I knew I'd feel overwhelmingly guilty about just abandoning him without knowing he's at least someplace safe in his drunken state, so I stayed with him. The next bus stop wasn't too much further anyway, so I carried on. We did stop at a convenience store, and I did tell some of the people there that he was drunk and I didn't know him, and to call Police if he came back this way later and I wasn't with him.
Fast forwarding a little more (the walk took far longer than I'd have liked), and we stopped at a nearby casino parking lot so he could drink the beer he bought from the convenience store, which I did advise was a bad idea but hey, couldn't expect him to listen to reason at the moment. The next bus stop was very close, and the next bus was due to arrive relatively soon, so I leaned against a nearby post for one of the large casino signs you see all over Vegas. I had my phone out, wondering who I could call to make sure both I got home safe, and this guy got the help he needs, when this guy presses against me, pretty much pinning me against the post. He was gentle about it, but it was still enough to catch me off guard. I couldn't understand what he was saying through the slurred speech, but judging by his eyes and where his hands were moving, I had a fairly good idea of what he wanted. Before I could do anything about it, though, two of the casino's parking lot security pulled up on bikes and asked us what we were doing, thinking we were just two overzealous teenagers or something. I distanced myself from the guy and explained the situation, albeit poorly due to my shaking voice and failing façade. They separated us and one of them asked me something while the other one got the drunken man to walk back up the road and away from me. I don't remember what the other guard asked me, as my mind was still reeling from what the actual hell was going on, but he didn't let me leave until the other guy was out of sight. He then asked if I wanted a ride home in one of their cruisers, and I declined. I just walked to the nearby bus stop, just in time to catch my next bus. I texted my mom about it, and she was the first to say that it was definitely assault and a reportable offense but again, I was way too exhausted to make a report about that so late at night. Even moreso after the fact. But I had also heard countless stories of other people who had gone through far worse than that, and I really didn't think it appropriate for my mother to be saying I'd "survived abuse", as she was adamant about. It was wrong, sure, but again, I'd heard far worse stories, and had known people close to me who had it much worse. So, I just filed it away in my mind as another weird Vegas occurrence.
Now, however, the memory keeps resurfacing every now and again, and I wonder if it really was as big a deal as everyone made it out to be - then and now. So I figured I'd make a post here and ask, to at least get some sort of definitive answer.

Disclaimer: This is light hearted and fun, so hopefully it helps cheer someone up on a bad day. This happened almost 20 years ago but another post reminded me of it, feel free to point and laugh at mistakes.
Just to start off, I got along great with this teacher in question Mr O. He was awesome but also a smartass, unfortunately so am I. One day after handing in a book report, the grade I got back was less than I thought it should be as I put a lot of work into it. When I asked Mr O about it, he replied something along the lines of "it wasn't up to your usual standards", so he knocked some points off. I still passed it, but it bugged me. I get now he was trying to push me to do my best, but it irked me.
Then SACE time came, and for our English exam we had one hour to submit a 250 word exam on the teacher's choice of subject. Mr O was and always had been a huge superhero comics fan, so he tasked us to write an exam on what would happen if we suddenly developed superpowers. He then looked at me and said something to the effect of "I expect great things from you all, get going".
Most of the other people in the class wrote the standard sort of fare, but I decided to cheat Mr O out of the story he wanted. I knew he was looking forward to my story as he had come to enjoy the extra creative flair I always used to put in for an epic story. Instead, I wrote a story about being a balding, 40 year old mechanic who one day accidentally kept starting fires. I made this the most compelling and funny story I had ever written and was the first to hand it in. When the results came back, he conceded it was one of the funniest things he had read and had even shown the other teachers, who pressured him into giving me extra credit for it.
(For those not in South Australia, SACE is basically the culmination of high schooling here. It's basically two weeks of exams before graduation.)
TLDR: Teacher knocked points off of one assignment but gave them back on a better one I did later.

Part 2
If you travel far enough North on the map, well above where the Civilized Nations stop because no crops grow, you'll find a mountain range. Crossing this range leads to the Monster Kingdom, though for some reason they prefer the name 'TFSU.' Yes, they prefer. The literal forces of anarchy and chaos in the universe have a government. However, ignoring that whole thing, the Monster Kingdom is fine. No armies march on them, mostly because of supply and logistical issues. The Monsters never say how they grow their own food, but given that they don't trade and millions of kobolds worth of food don't go missing every day, it's safe to say they make their own. Now, that doesn't stop the Civilized Nations to send one hero a decade to 'keep them in check.' Four decades ago, the hero closed off a mountain pass, which was supposed to cause a massive flood. Four days later, it was cleared, and the only thing to show for it were the cities that glow like the sun at night. However, yesterday, the Hero returned having burnt one of the bigger cities down. It was empty of all monsters, but the act was the first real damage they had taken in seven hundred years, since their founding. For seven hundred years, the TFSU have taken the beating of seventy heroes and simply moved on. But now. Now, millions of kobolds make up heavy 'machinery' units that march in armored, self-moving caridges that spit fire and metal. Thousands of beastpeople make up scouting and light infantry ranks. The TFSU use hellish 'guns' that hit harder than a catapult from kilometers away, all in a single 'bullet' not the size of a human's thumb. Metal birds and dragonflies join dragons as they assault cities. We poke the very literal sleeping dragon in the eye. Yet the armies don't do much. They march for our capitals and leaders, but on the way our civilians live. Surendees live. People go about their daily lives without too much change. Of course, that fact didn't stop the front line from finally crashing over my small village, located so close to the pass for a while we thought they the monsters had bypassed us entirely. The Civilized Nations had decided to send an entire legion to prevent the Monsters from getting across a nearby canyon pass. We were hit with an air-based assault with only dragons and metal dragonflies, our balista uselessly demolished by pillars of metal and flame thrown out of the metal dragonflies. I blacked out when the legion managed to shoot enough arrows to take down one of the dragonflies. I remember it crashing down onto my house... and then nothing.
-----
The elf stirred as they woke up. I'd been raised in the Terra Firma Sapience Union, so I was... less than familiar with the clothing and lifestyle the Southerners used. The elf groaned again, before their eyes shot open and they looked around, quickly settling on my frame. "A-Are you going to kill me now?" They asked, their voice shaken with fear. I let out a laugh. "If I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead." I decided to transmorph into my secondary form - a cat - to help the conversation go better. In a land where humans lived to forty, elves only lived to a hundred, and that meant that even I was older than this elf, and they were no older than thirty. The elf, to their credit, quickly figured out I wasn't pulling any mindgames. I'd heard tales from my relatives before the Kobolds founded the TFSU. People, especially when panicked, usual acted with more than enough stupidity to make the situation worse. "Where am I?" The elf asked. Their tone told me that they were still suspicious, but it wasn't outright denial of the situation. "My home," I answered bluntly. "Your village tried to fight our ground forces when they moved in, so most of them are currently under house arrest." Still in my cat form, I created a portal into my storage cavern and reached my arm through, while summoning a lab coat around my shoulders and glasses. It was a trick I had only learned to do recently. "Let's see..." I found the clipboard and brought it out, flipping to the elft's page and taping the pen against the paper. "You suffered a collapsed lung, severe burns on the right side of your body, three broken ribs and two fractured ones, shattered three wrist bones, three breaks in your right upper arm and another two in your lower arm, and on the left side you have another fractured rib and three broken fingers. Your left leg was shattered and your left foot was completely torn up. Healing magic stabilized you and surgery did the rest. You've been comatose for the past three days, and was brought to my home yesterday due to a surge in hospital patients from the seige of Trembolorne. "In terms of organ damage, that was also severe. A busted kidney, I already mentioned a collapsed lung, and your entire digestive system was... well, pulverized would be putting it lightly. Also, unrelated to the incident with the helicopter, you had cancer in your liver and kidney. "In terms of medical treatment, you've been given an IV line for the past couple days and several painkillers, and you underwent four separate surgeries. We reconstructed your organs, welded your bones to metal plates, and used a genetic printer to replace your skin. You're lucky to have gotten time with the genetic printer in the first place, you know; those things are expensive, and I mean expensive to run. Though it's all billed on the government anyway, but that just means that they'll only run it if they have to." The elf sat up in bed looking at me as I just stood on two paws on the cave floor. "Right, sorry, you wouldn't understand most of that." I sheepishly scratched the back of my head with my right paw. "Um... put this way, you were crushed by debris and we basically reconstructed your body before you died. So not necromancy, though you did get close to needing more advanced magical treatment." "Oh," The elf replied. The cat thing seemed to have helped, because they were no longer stuttering with their single word response. "Um... do you want anything to drink?" I tried to kickstart a conversation. "Where am I?" The elf asked again. I was silent for a second. "My home? It's right on the edge of TFSU territory, one of the southernmost places you can be while still being with the recognized borders. I chose this place because I like to fly out in the summer over the flowers in the forest at the foot of the mountains. Your village is a couple hour dragon-flight time away." "Mmmhm." The elf commented halfheartedly. "OK, um... who are you?" "My dragonic name isn't something most can pronounce, so my public name is just Vixie Remminie." I answered. "What's yours?"
The elf's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know my name." I blinked. "Because... It's a name? I'm not a Fey, you know, it's not like I can tie ancient demons to your soul and call it a prank or something ridiculous like that. Besides, you asked for mine; now I get to ask for yours." "And who says you won't just burn my village to the ground and eat me right now!?!" The elf suddenly burst out. "You monsters ruin everything! You trespass on our land, take our resources, and kill our people! All we did was try to defend ourselv-" I cut him off, and poured just a bit of attention in giving myself an aura. Blue fire licked the bottom of my vision as I rebuttaled his point. "Don't forget, you stole the land from us. We were the ones living in the wild when you razed our forests and grew crops. We couldn't even purchase land to live on! So yes, we stole what we could to survive and those who didn't starved and died! And when all was said and done, you tried to kill us and turned it into a war, one where we had no choice but to kill you back. And when we found someplace to run, a spot to hide and do our own thing with our own land? You blistering idiots sent you 'courageous heroes' to try and kill us! What for? Nothing! Just your stupid, moronic fear making, forcing you to decide to 'kill the big thing over there!' We can't even have freaking farmland, we have to grow it all in hydroponic farms and harvest thousand-year-old vines out of caves because this is all we have!" I realized that my aura was burning fully and scorching the ground around me. I let out a long sigh, and it died down. Several memories flashed through my head, but I pushed them away. "Apologies, my parents are still a... sensitive topic for me. It would be best if we just stayed away from talking about the war until the hospital has room for more patients again." "Yeah?" The elf was still enraged. Even sitting down, they were still trying to construct an argument. "You parents who killed how many? Your family killed how many more? You dragons, you monsters are nothing more than one large grouping of murders that deserve to die! As the gods will!" The elf was spitting in rage, but I recognized his determination to hold onto his worldview. It was the one thing I needed to pry away before it got out of hand. "And you elves killed how many more?" I asked in a low voice. "Can you tell me the number of kobold dens exterminated in caves, the number of beastpeople sent to an early grave in slave camps? Because I can tell you ours. My father's was two, my mother's four, and my extended family including deceased relatives is one hundred and thirty seven. "You declared war against monsters, you child of an elf," I growled. "And death the reality of war. We know. The Unification Wars weren't fought with swords and honor. They were fought with artillery barrages and death. They were fought with miniature suns and political backstabbing, with tanks and guns and submarines and warships and all the more death. "You say the gods don't like us! That's put lightly. They forsook us! Abandoned us in our hour of need. So we learned to live without them. There are no gods we pray to anymore, elfling. Only each other, our creations, and the universe itself. They don't want us, we don't need them. It's more than they deserve." My aura was once again charring the floor and I had transformed back into my dragon form, but this time I refused to cool it down. "You call us creations of death, the primal forces of anarchy? We are you. You are us. We are sapient, we are all mortals, no matter our advantages. We are bound to this dimensional plane, forced to serve our betters, and live out our lives not with earnest but with trepredition for when it ends. We are all death incarnate, because we can all die. That is just the way it is. Besides, you've wondered about my kill count; tell me, can you tell me the gods'? Can you tell me how many souls they have cut from fate for their own entertainment? No? I can tell you." I growled, moving closer until the blue flames enveloping my body threatened to light the elf's cot on fire. "More people than are alive on this planet right now." I pulled back, bottling up my aura and reverting to my cat form. "We can talk all we want about death and destruction, and I won't lie and say you aren't victims of the war; pre-unification dragons we're exactly kind and merciful to those with treasure hoards. But perhaps, I implore you to consider that maybe we both are victims of the war, and maybe we can one day work together instead of fighting each other. "Maybe, one day, we can fight for our rights against the gods." I moved into my dragon form and darted deeper into my cave, moving so fast I could hear the howl of the wind against my ears. Only when I had reached my memorial wall for my parents did I stop and take a breath and think over my conversation with the elf. We had a long way to go, but I hoped I had put a little bit of sense into him. I hoped that the world could change.
-----
When the dragon cat thing sped away, I took a moment to survey my surroundings. Only now did the effects of my first question hit my formerly-groggy head. "My home." He said. Dragons live in caves. Oooooh. I'm screwed. However, there were no treasure hoards visible from my perspective; then again, while the Monsters were stupid, they still had brains to them, and carrying me into a treasure room would probably be something they'd be able to tell was a bad idea. Pops said never underestimate you foe, A voice in the back of my head said, and the dragon even launched in a full conversation with you. You're selling the dragon very, very shor- Shut up I growled internally to the treacherous voice in my head. The cave itself was... a cave. There was a metal slab on one end, it went deeper in the other, and that was that. In a 'corner' of the jagged room there were a number of red, glowing rods attached to some kind of giant mechanism three elfs wide and six deep, but the rods glowed against the cave's light- What light source? My eyes darted around looking for one. Only now was I aware of how unnatural each shadow was, how awkward each shining rock looked, how each stalagmite could hide an entire dragon, and that was before they started transfiguring into cats. How bright the ceiling- I looked up. The bright light burned my eyes, but I needed to know what fiendish magic was in play so I could counter it. But the light didn't flicker like fire - they were far too bright for that anyway - but they also didn't have the magical circles surrounding each spell. They were... lights. As if the universe simply willed brightness into existence. Each far-too-bright-hurts-to-look-ats was placed along a main hallway clear of stalagmites running from the metal slab deeper and around a corner where I couldn't see. The lights were only poised above this one hall, and they just... shone one the rest of the cave. Looking closer, I could see thin black lines, too thin to be mana feeds, running along the walls to both the glowing red rods and to the so-shiny-the-lit-up-the-cave. And... that was that. There was no massive pile of treasure in the hall, though I suspected the dragon kept their hoard deeper than... wherever I was. There was no pile of skull trophies or the banner of cities and armies slain, and I noted that while he had told me his parents', the dragon had never told me his own. Then again, the cat thing could be lying. Dragon transfigured into a cat. Probably has Circle Of Truth around his entire den. Nonsense, dragons can only do elemental magic. Evidently not. Would you just shut up already? No- I moved my attention back to the metal slab, cutting off whatever the voice in my head had to say about my current situation; it wasn't every day one just got kidnapped by a nation of monsters, after all. The slab was truly elegant. It was painted with the monster language, and then was painted with some kind of mural. I could barely make out a blue circle with green splotches on it surrounded by twelve rings in the bottom corner because most of the door was taken up by a ice-blue cat with lighter strips engulfed in blue fire. It was a mural of the dragon cat thing. That didn't stop it from being pretty, and someone had obviously put a lot of effort into it. The flames looked realistic from what I had seen minutes ago, and the cat's details were perfectly engraved. It was... acurrate. Yeah, because I think Vixie was just trying to tell you that they built their civilization for a reason, and it wasn't carnage. You don't know what you're talking about. We both know I do. How else to you think- Listen to me, you treasonous voice of a- No, you listen to me, you pathetic excuse for a brain. The dragon was able to hold and win an argument with you, fixed your wounds that would've been a dead write-off for any other hospital, and then you think SHE barely meets the threshold for sapient? THE ABSOLUTE MORON I'M ARGUING WITH IS THE ONE YOU BARELY MEETS IT!!! You moved to your frontier village because the world was changing, Lazerot the Sixth. Congrats, you were right. It did change. Now shut your OVERSIZED EGO up at being bested by a creature ten times older than you, and go appologies before they decide that saving your life wasn't worth it. I... I... OK- No. I'm in control now. Shut up. I....... yes, sir. Good. With new resolve, I stood up. My head throbbed, and the next thing I knew was my face hitting my cot again.
-----
When I heard the thud of something falling in the entrance cave, I carefully moved back into the entrance cave. The elf was face-down in their cot, unconscious again. It looked like they had tried to stand and just.... fallen over. I sighed and used a claw to nudge the elf back onto his pillow, and then covered him with a blanket. I watched him for a minute, and then returned to the deeper parts of my home. The TFSU was completely overloaded with the number of patients needing treatment. Apparently, the Southener's hospitals just... didn't do anything, so in addition to soldiers, there was a massive influx of civilians to our hospitals too. Of course, this meant that they were absolutely overloaded, and the Civilized Nations strategy of fighting to near-death and then surrendering wasn't helping. So, stable recovering civilians like the elf were just... shipped out. When shelters filled up because the Civilized Nations overpopulation crisis was too bad to do anything, people just had to take them into their homes. Long story short, the government was in way over their head attempting upgrade the standard of care in the Civilized Nations while occupying their territory. My job so close to the border was remote infrastructure maintenance, and my ability to change size while not dissolving made me an expert at it - and that was before my two hundred years of experience. And then I didn't need a vehicle to get on-site, and was fast. The alarm pinging me that one of the space radars was down again gave me an excuse to avoid the elf and do some work. I grabbed a pack of supplies, put on my shapeshift-compatible uniform, and wrote down a note on a piece of paper. On my out past the sleeping elf, I dropped it for him.

Space radar system needs repair, as it's returning a false positive. It's my job to repair all the infrastructure around here, so I need to go fix it. I'll be back soon. If you're hungry, my pantry is the first cave on the right. You can just eat anything that's easily open-able in there. If it has a lock or airtight opening mechanism (anything more than a clip, really) then don't eat it. If your thirsty, there's a stream in the entrance cave near the heaters. When the door mechanism beeps, step back. Sometimes pressure in the cave can get a bit wonky, and I don't want you to get hurt. Other than that, feel free to explore. I've locked all the doors to the rooms I don't want you to enter. For toilet necessities, the second cave on the left has a properly-sized toilet. And running water, but stuff I can explain later means don't drink it. See you soon! - Vixie.

Satisfied, I left opened the door. There was a puff as the air from inside flowed out to the lower-pressure atmosphere. I could spot a snow squall to the north, and the pressure meant that it was probably coming my way. I moved out onto the ledge and closed the door behind me. At high altitudes this far north, the air was already near-zero and it was still five in the afternoon. I took just a second to confirm with the weather report that the snowstorm was in fact going to arrive on my doorledge using a smartwatch I had strapped around my wrist. When I found that the storm was coming, I opened my wings and flew. Being an Ice Dragon had its advantages, but being a Water-Ice Combined Dragon was much better. The frosty air curled around my wings as the freedom of ignoring gravity filled my brain. Ice and Water dragons both had large wings to deal with the cold air (and lower pressure leading to the requirement for more surface area to achieve the same amount of lift) and incompressable water physics (to let the wings act like a one-way fan blade as they move back and forth, increasing efficient). Dragons might be magestic creatures, but we were still bound to the physics of the mortal plane, after all. Being part of both, my wings were even bigger, making me one of the best high-altitude fliers on the planet. The ability to use both gills and lungs at said altitudes helped with oxygen also helped. Air Dragons were better at flying in normal air, but I liked to think of it like stats from a video game. Air Dragons min-maxed their stats for low-altitude, but I could go anywhere - even underwater - can keep my speed relatively high. I took full advantage of this on my way to the space radar, soaring well above the cloud ceiling and to the point where I could make out the curvature of the planet below me. The ocean spread out to my west, while more land was to my east. Snow covered the north as to the south was the telltale splotchy color of industrialism. My smartwatch beeped, as I crossed the normal altitude limit. I hadn't realized I'd gone so high; I had a radar to repair, after all. I dove down towards the surface, ignoring more beeps as I crossed half the way to the speed of sound. The wind howled angrily in my ears, but I flattened those (thank you, streamlined water genetics) and came out of my death dive right over the radar. The repair itself went relativity smoothly, though I couldn't find a broken component and chalked it up to more space anomalies. They weren't infrequent, and usually marked where the gods decided to look over the planet. For my radars, anyway. Further north, ignoring the north pole, almost no gods came out and wanted to deal with us. Our unspoken agreement was held that way. I flew straight back for my return journey. The storm was definitely closer, but fifteen minutes of flying later and I was entering the opening mechanism for my door. As it swung inwards, I heard the high-pitched scream of an elf.
-----
When I awoke, I found myself tucked into some covers. It took all of seven seconds for reality to catch up with me. Right. I got into a heated argument with a dragon. I instinctively touched the part of my face that had been closest to the dragon's flame. I'd read about Auras in books, but never thought I'd get to see one. They were only ever found in the most powerful and competent individuals of a race in an entire plan of existence. I wondered which skill gave the dragon hers - Vixie, I reminded myself. Either way, given that Auras are technically illusions, I wasn't hurt. The flames didn't get close enough to hurt anyway, but that didn't stop me from checking. This time, I was much more careful when I stood up. I sat up first, then started to kick my legs back and forth. That's when I spotted a paper on the other side of my cot. I stood up without thinking, but managed to keep my consciousness this time and moved towards the note. It was handwritten and contained a lot of jargon that I wasn't familiar with. Space. Radar. False positive. Airtight opening mechanism. Heater. Beep. Pressure. Toilet. Running water. I could deduce some of it. A message had come in requesting the services of the local dragon to repair a thing that has an issue, and that she would return shortly. I could wander around as I pleased, besides eating food that wasn't open or contained in a clip bag. From the tone of the message, I could deduce what a 'toilet' was. The heaters would logically be things that produced heat, so all I had to do was look for those. I wasn't able to tell time, but I supposed at this point it didn't matter. I moved over deeper into the cave, and quickly heard the sound of a stream. It led directly into a forest of stalagmites. After clambering over those, the temperature started to increase, which was all I needed to know that I was getting a drink of water. I was only now catching up to the fact that I had been out for three days, and that meant that I was extremely thirsty. I wasn't sure how I wasn't dead of dehydration at this point. I found the stream next to the glowing metal rods, and with it a clear path to my location. Sighing slightly at the wasted effort on climbing through Rock Forest, I snatched an undersized cup off a rack built into a nearby jut in the cave wall and filled it, before entering the bliss of fresh water. Back in the village, we had some of the best and cleanest water in all the land thanks to snow melt, but this took that to a new level. Cold, crisp water melted in the sun only minutes ago. It was... pure. I spent the next couple minutes simply drinking and processing everything over in my mind. The gods might have willed the monster dead, but if even the monster gods had abandoned them and survived... then how come the Pantheon never told us? Religious issues aside, there were more practical issues regarding my own survival. How did I get out. There was a thud at the metal slab, and I moved back towards it, leaving my cup to dry on the rack I pulled it from. The engraving of the cat on the metal slab was- BEEEP! What was that sound? There was a hiss, and the slab started to peel away. A gust of frigid cold air washed over me as a mage Ice-Water hybrid Aura-capable dragon that I had argued with stared me down. I did the instinctive thing and let out the scream of a human three year old, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for the final blow. When the end of my life didn't arrive, I reopened my eyes to find the sky-blue cat standing in the hole where the metal slab was supposed to be. Then there was another... sound, and the metal slab started to move back into position. The cat was surprised for a single moment before simply charging the door and jumping through, skidding to a halt right in front of me. Which meant that I got a closer look at her. Ocean-blue strips crossed an ice-blue body fur in a fifty-fifty ratio. Small crystals of ice twinkled, floating here her wings would be. One tail was accompanied by two more made of pure blue-white energy, and the cat even had a halo. Six orbs of blue-white light hovered in lazy circles around her back, and even in a diminutive form the size of a cat the being radiated the power of an aura-capable creature. "Oh, right, sorry," Vixie said, and all the ethirial energy disappeared. Now that I knew what I was looking for, however, I could just barely tell, using my power as a mage, that Vixie was using illusion magic to hide her true energy. "You don't need to hide your reserves," I said. "Though if you're shapeshifting into forms so small that you need to expose yours, then you should just burn yours instead. It's not worth the trouble of people bottling yours." Vixie gave some kind of half-shrug. "They're not reserves, no." She said, emphasizing the word. I looked at Vixie with a sharp look, and for a second I forgot I was talking to a dragon. "Then what are they?" "They're..." The cat blushed, something I wasn't even aware was possible. She let the illusion fall away, and the tails, crystals, orbs and halo returned. "They're my regenerative baseline minimum." I looked her up and down for a second, dumbstruck. She really is a creature of power, huh? "Um.... uh..." I stuttered. "Is... that where you get your aura from?" I asked. Vixie closed her eyes with an expression on her face, and this time green flame started to peel off her. "Part of it, yeah." To control an aura like that... two auras. Just how powerful is she? I was so deep in thought that I didn't realize that the expression on her face was pain. "I... uh... what happened?" I asked, shellshocked. "Why aren't you fighting in the war?" The worldwide-powerful dragon masquerading as a cat sighed. "I... haven't told anyone. It's... personal." "I..." Only now did it hit me that I was talking with a dragon, not another person. Not just a monster, but a... creature with emotions. "You don't have to tell me." I quickly backtracked. "No, no, it's a fair question. It..." The cat let out a chuckle, and it filled the cave with a beautiful sound. "I suppose it's kind of ironic... but it starts with a kobold and a god, back when the Firma kobold tribe decided to travel north to escape the civilized nations, shortly before the amassing of all creatures in these same northern mountains and the Unification War. "Back before the gods forsook us."
Original Prompt: [WP] For as long as all the races have known, Dragons have been seen as violent, destructive creatures. After an attack on your village, you black out and find yourself in the den of a dragon. It's rather annoyed that that is how they're seen, and wants to prove that isn't the case.
u/Lycan_Jedi thank you for the prompt!
Part 2

Not necessarily 100% episodic, but with no grand overarching or big dramas and with no overtly crass humour (like South Park), something like Simpsons or some old Adult Swim titles. Seems like nowadays most adult cartoon have some overaching plots that concludes in a dramatic or painful moment, the best ones at least. I don't dislike those, I just wanted something to put on the background while I'm doing something else, or just need to distract myself from life.
Ironically the closest thing I found to this were "kids" cartoons, stuff like The Looney Tunes show (a perfect example), Gumball or Regular Show. I saw Clone High on HBO but apparently this new series isn't very good.

I'm 39 and live south of St.Louis in Missouri. I love the outdoors, hunting, fishing, and kayaking. I play the piano in my free time. I composed the song that my sister walked down the aisle to at her wedding, and I'm slowly working on another one for my niece. I've been called handsome, attractive, and a really good person. I donated my kidney to a stranger in need a few years ago. Best decision I have ever made. Wish I could do it again.
I am not political, religious, or have hatred towards anyone. I don't smoke, drink, or use any drugs of any kind. I have no tattoos or piercings. I'm starting to sound a little boring, lol.
I'm recently separated after 17 years of marriage. I would prefer to chat for a while and then if possible, eventually have a physical meeting, but I'm not in any hurry for that. If anyone is interested, there's a few pics in my profile. Say hi if you like.

Across The Spider-Verse is awesome! Best comic book adaptation, and that cliffhanger? Pure Baahubaali Pt 1 ending level!
That aside, would really to see how this movie will influence future Telugu filmmakers and movies.
The major influence would definitely be the colour palette. Spider-Verse movies use colour to not just make scenes cool, but to show the emotional state. The scenes between Gwen and her father are just powerful; the colours around them, emotions etc. Can you just imagine a budding Telugu filmmaker watching that scene and wants to emulate in their future movies? Considering that South Indian movies are using more "neon-like" colour palettes in their movies, it'd make sense for them to step up and go further.
Other than that, there's a lot of potential for this movie to inspire Indian animators. Imagine the painterly art of Raja Ravi Verma brought to life using the animation tech of Spider-verse.
What's your personal opinion?

New Orleans, LA: 6/10
My birthplace. The city is teeming with culture and history that spans over 300 years. Most of the touristy parts of the city are pretty walkable, with added street cars. The French Quarter is full of tourists, but fun, and Uptown, and the Marigny is more laid back, truly something for everyone. The food is amazing and having Mardi Gras off is always a bonus. On the flip side, the crime. It’s never been good but since 2020 it’s been really fucking bad. Carjackings and homicide make the nightly news every day. The streets are also always buckled or full of potholes on account of the city being below sea level. Also the city sits in one of the most hurricane vulnerable areas in existence. Katrina displaced us for a year, and every time we’re in the cone for a storm, everyone that remembers Katrina has PTSD flashbacks.
Gulfport/Biloxi, MS: 7.5/10
This is the closest metro area to New Orleans on the gulf. A lot of people from NOLA have beach houses here, especially in Bay St. Louis and Pass Christian. It’s much more laid back than NOLA and everything here revolves around the water: Fishing, boating, sailing, seafood, etc. Biloxi also has the most casinos between Vegas and Atlantic City. Mardi Gras is a thing here too. The beaches on the mainland are alright, (free, parking everywhere). The water is kinda murky, but there are undeveloped barrier islands 10-ish miles offshore that you can get to by ferry or private boat (which most people here have) and the water there rivals Florida’s. Hurricanes are a problem here too. Katrina absolutely fucked this area up, like worse than New Orleans.
Mobile, AL: 4.5/10
Where I go to college. The city is a big port destination. The downtown area is reminiscent of New Orleans but not nearly as cool. They claim to be home to the oldest Mardi Gras Parade, but it’s much more low budget and less fun than NOLA’s. Local cuisine is good. Crime is pretty bad but could be worse. Outside of the downtown core is basic American suburban hell. Terrible traffic, 6 lane roads lined with strip malls, fast food, and storage facilities. The city is not walkable whatsoever. I got hit on my bike here. Pretty good beaches are an hour away in Gulf Shores with a shit ton of touristy things to do.
Jackson, MS 2/10
This city is basically the Detroit of the South. It’s basically New Orleans if you took everything away except crime and rap music. There’s nothing to do here. The city is economically crippled bc all the white flight gravitated investment to the suburbs, which are a world difference from the city itself. You always play Russian roulette when showering, washing dishes, or drinking tap water bc you never know if it’s contaminated. From 2010 to 2020 the city shrunk more than anywhere else in America with a population over 100k. Nothing redeemable about Jackson.
Atlanta, GA: 5/10
I don’t personally like Atlanta as a sports city that much being a Saints fan an everything, but there’s a shit ton of things to do here. Six flags, aquarium, coke world, Stone Mountain, sports games, you name it. The city does not deserve to be called southern though. Nothing about this city is southern. It’s full of northern liberals that know nothing about Georgia outside of their little bubble. There’s also some pretty rough ghettos on the south side of town too. Traffic is abysmal at best, and stuck for days in the snow on the interstate at the worst. It takes 2 hours to cross the city. Atlanta is close to the mountains though, which is pretty nice.
Nashville, TN: 7/10
I haven’t been to Nashville in a while but I can’t remember a bad trip any time I’ve visited. The downtown is pretty hip. If you like country music, this is Mecca for you. The Cumberland River runs right through the heart of the city, which I’ve rowed with my crew team. Nissan Stadium, where the Titans play, is right across the river from Broadway and is connected by a pedestrian bridge. Outside of the city there’s a lot of lakes and low mountains to explore, but it’s being ever encroached by suburban sprawl.
Baton Rouge, LA: 4/10
I lived in BTR for a year after Katrina. The only things to do here revolve around LSU. No disrespect to LSU tho, games in Tiger Stadium are electric. Joe Burrow is basically Jesus here. There’s a crime problem here but not the same level as NOLA. There’s also a lot of chemical plants around, being on the Mississippi River and all. Traffic is really fucking bad since there’s only one bridge crossing the river so it all gets bottlenecked at rush hour. The city is 90 minutes from NOLA if you get too bored, which you will eventually.
I might do more cities outside of the south, idk yet.

That serves breakfast during the weekdays?
Will be willing to drive up to north Austin, but not past the Domain area
\I'm aware of Original Pancake house on Parmer, will also be trying that*

Context: my social life is a gong show in my opinion, and I only have one friend, out of a group I had before graduating from highschool. Still have diplomas, but essentially we're done. The issue with my only friend is that he has more friends than I do, and he spends more time with them. I know that isn't wrong, just that it feels he prioritizes time with them more often than with me, and usually I just act as his vent, and driver, no matter how much he denies it. He plans the occasional thing or two with me, but I usually have to engage it, and convince him to come with. Otherwise, he either stays home, or goes with someone else to hang out, even if they're working.
Story: Today, I woke up expecting to go out and spend senior skip day with my friend in the city, which we said we'd do for the past week, nothing exactly planned, just hang out and talk while we went out, but instead, I woke up to a text message, of him saying he got picked up by his friends to go to the party at a lake instead last minute. I felt, and still feel betrayed at that. I was angry, and asked him basically "wtf bro?" And all he could say was "sorry." And that he had forgotten to tell them he couldn't go, so it was fine if he had just left me apparently. This pissed me off, so I just spent the day at home. Only to realize at the end, the party was for everyone, and not invite specific, even though he was specifically asked to go, and I wasn't. So I learned that from one of his friends, and idk if I'd consider them my friends anymore, and I feel regret and betrayal at the same time. Idk what it do.
I know it's the end of highschool, and it's drama from my end, but I can't shake that it makes me very mad, and depressed that my best friend just turns me away on a dime.

If you have any specific questions about your sub-sign, please ask those in comments below!
♈️ Aries: Single Aries, the universe is sending you an amusing Aquarius to sprinkle some humor into your day. Committed Aries, it's time to try something new and exciting with your partner. Profession-oriented Aries, you're in for some good news today. Working Aries, take a breather and appreciate your achievements. Health-wise, Aries, you're doing great, but there's always room for improvement. Adventure-seekers, your next destination is calling you - head to Skopje in Macedonia! Today, the color purple is your lucky charm. Emotionally, Aries, you're feeling grounded and positive. It's time to call up your friends and plan a hangout. Enjoy the ride and make the most of this day!
♉️ Taurus: Single Taurus, the stars are conspiring to bring you an exciting twist in your love life. A fresh, invigorating romance is on the horizon, so enjoy the butterflies and the excitement. For those Taurus in a relationship, you're riding the wave of love with security and deep affection. It's a day to cherish the steady bond you share with your partner. On the professional front, it's an ideal day to brainstorm how you can maximize profits and save the extra penny. Seek the wisdom of a family member for insights that could unlock the secret to financial prosperity. Health-wise, take extra care of your throat and opt for comforting food like soups and herbal teas. Travel-wise, the stars are pointing you towards the vibrant city of Rijeka in Croatia. Luck is playing a delightful symphony for you today, with the magical numbers 71, 89, 20, and 6 set to bring you an abundance of good fortune. Emotionally, it may be best to steer clear of any drama and focus on calming activities that create harmony around you.
♊️ Gemini: Gemini, you may be feeling the love if you're newly smitten, or a pang of loneliness if you're single. Either way, it's important to nurture self-love and cherish your own company. Professionally, you may find yourself struggling to concentrate, so take breaks when needed and save the impulse purchases for another day. Health-wise, remember to keep a wholesome snack handy and experiment with some delicious dairy-free alternatives. For your next adventure, consider Belgrade, Serbia - a city full of rich history, vibrant culture, and mesmerizing beauty. Luck is on your side today, thanks to the benevolent Jupiter sending a shower of good vibes. Your lucky color is silver, the color of intuition and reflection. Lastly, if things haven't turned out as planned, it's okay to embrace your emotions but don't let disappointment weigh you down. Treat it as a learning curve and remember that each setback is a setup for a great comeback.
♋️ Cancer: Today is the perfect day for Cancer to turn up the romance dial with their loved one. Unleash your creativity and plan something special that will let your love shine bright. For single Cancerians, the stars suggest a magnetic attraction with Taurus signs may be in the offing. Professionally, it's time to experiment with new financial strategies and embrace the unknown. Health-wise, plan a soothing home spa session to wash away fatigue and re-energize your spirit. Travel-wise, New Zealand is the perfect destination for a unique adventure. Lady luck might be playing coy today, but look out for a dash of red as it brings with it a promise of social luck. Emotionally, face your fears head-on and tackle those apprehensions in a healthy way. Growth begins at the end of your comfort zone.
♌️ Leo: Today is a day of reflection for paired Leos, as you may encounter a minor hiccup in your relationship. Patience and understanding are the keys to a strong bond, so take the time to communicate with your partner. Single Leos should take advantage of their flirtatious side, especially around Libra signs, as a spark might be waiting to ignite. For those on the job hunt, the stars indicate a sprinkle of luck on your side. If you're occupied with work, double-check your tasks to avoid potential pitfalls. Health-wise, remember to listen to your body's signals and prioritize your health. Travel-wise, France is calling out to you! Envision the aromatic cafes, the artistic vibe, the picturesque landscapes, and the lively, welcoming locals. Today's lucky numbers are 99, 4, 27, and 76, but it might not be the best day to invest in real estate or vehicles. Lastly, remember to hold your fiery spirit in check today and spread positivity instead of negativity.
♍️ Virgo: Single Virgo, the stars are aligning in your favor as a charismatic Leo is likely to turn on their charm and flirt with you. Relationship-bound Virgo, you may feel like your partner isn't quite attuned to your emotions. Communicate openly and let them know your feelings. Financially, it's time for some judicious moves. Consider revisiting your subscriptions and see if there is a streaming service you could do without. Creative Virgos seeking employment, your moment of breakthrough might be just around the corner. Health-wise, you're on the right track, Virgo! Now's the time to add more activity to your routine. Explore different times of the day for exercise, and find what suits you best. Ipoh, nestled in the heart of Malaysia, awaits you, Virgo. Its blend of urban vibes and rustic charm is set to give you an extraordinary travel experience. The cosmic wheel spins in your favor today with your lucky numbers: 83, 22, 1, 57, and 62. However, be wary, Virgo, games of chance may not favor you today. A blast from the past might unexpectedly stir your emotions today. An encounter with a familiar face might hold more impact than you expect. Let it serve as an opportunity to reflect and grow.
♎️ Libra: Today is a day of love and beauty for Librans. For those in relationships, passionate debates with your partner can strengthen your bond. Single Librans should be open to connecting with Cancer signs. At work, it's important to balance task completion with networking and socializing for growth. Financially, investments made today are likely to pay off. Health-wise, remember that nutrition is just as important as exercise when it comes to weight loss. For travel, Yangon in Myanmar promises a unique experience. Jupiter is blessing you with luck, so your lucky numbers are 68, 37, 18, and 46. Lastly, don't forget to believe in yourself and your strength; everything will fall into place.
♏️ Scorpio: Personal life: Scorpios in relationships should remember to make time for family and friends, while those who are single should be prepared for an exciting Leo to enter their lives.
Profession: Scorpios should take advantage of the current financial momentum and be mindful of their spending habits.
Health: Breakouts could be a sign of unhealthy eating, so it's best to consult a dermatologist for advice.
Travel: Portugal is the perfect destination for Scorpios, with its red wine, gastronomic delights, and vibrant dance floors.
Luck: Social interactions are the key to luck today, so keep an eye out for the number 63.
Emotions: Scorpios should seek spiritual nourishment to bring peace and clarity.
♐️ Sagittarius: For those in relationships, a wave of miscommunication may ripple through your relationship today. Remember to stay clear and honest with your partner. If you're single, an Aries may catch your eye. Professionally, you stand on the precipice of learning opportunities that promise growth. Be patient with yourself and trust the journey. Health-wise, it's time to get back into physical fitness. Travel-wise, Asan, South Korea is calling your name. Your lucky numbers for today are 85, 63, 27, 19, and 58. Wear something light green for an extra dose of luck. Lastly, if a friend is going through emotional turbulence, remember that it's not solely your responsibility to be their pillar of support. They may need professional help or a wider network of care.
♑️ Capricorn: Personal life: Taken Capricorns, you may experience some tension with your partner's parents. It is important to approach the situation with understanding and patience. Single Capricorns, you are in for a treat as the universe has its spotlight on you! Profession: Investing wisely could significantly improve your financial situation. The long journey of your professional life is finally leading to a rewarding destination. Enjoy this moment of success in your career. Health: Make sure to switch off your phone, pick up a book, and get to bed early tonight. Your health is in good shape, but a bit of extra physical activity could do wonders for your overall well-being. Travel: Buenos Aires, the vibrant heart of Argentina, should be your next destination. Immerse yourself in the culture, enjoy the food, and let the city's energy consume you. Luck: Your lucky numbers today are 19, 6, 28, 32, 54, and 57. Keep an eye out for a small financial windfall as the night progresses! Emotions: Your ruling planet will keep you grounded, but a minor incident may cause an emotional outburst. Remember, it's okay to let off some steam.
♒️ Aquarius: Today is a day of love and security for those Aquarians in a relationship, while single Aquarians can use the day for self-love and inner growth. Financially, you may find money flowing more freely into your coffers, but staying focused at work could be a challenge. Keep an eye on your equilibrium and avoid foods that may cause discomfort. It's best to steer clear of journeys today, but your lucky numbers for the day are 31, 45, 28, 76, 55, and 10. Family ties will bring you solace and warmth, and a ring from a close friend might just make your day.
♓️ Pisces: Married Pisces, rejoice! Your marital bond is strong and blissful. Single Pisces, don't shy away from digital avenues of love. An intriguing opportunity is budding at your workplace, so take the chance to show your potential. Health-wise, be mindful of any allergies and get some extra sleep. Your adventurous spirit calls for an exotic journey, so consider a trip to Ivory Coast. Your lucky numbers today are 3, 66, 81, 9, and 20, and you may find financial luck knocking on your door. Finally, one of your friends may be going through a tough time, so be the anchor they need and make sure they feel your support.

Check out today's Hora

Sundown Audio SA-15 V.3 D4 (2 available) - $120 ea. PayPal G/S; used but in great condition; buyer pays shipping. Local pickup in super south texas (rio grande valley) can be accommodated, as well.
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https://imgur.com/a/sx2w5GZ
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Specifications
https://imgur.com/a/wTfjlZr
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15" best suited for ported enclosure
600 watt RMS power handling
19.0 mm X-Max (38mm peak to peak)
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The subs were purchased on Amazon in 2019, but were only used temporarily in my home theater. The boxes I built took a long time to finish and did not have a high WAF. I really don't have room to put a pair of these in any other room or in my vehicle, so they need to go now.

Door County
Now with full trader and mod list!!
Please join the Discord for additional information! https://discord.gg/FairPlayDayz
Over 80+ custom models & structures & houses 🏘️ - Introducing CORN 🌽 to DayZ - Map object placed, harvestable & planting. Trees 🌳 also drop some delicious Door County Cherries 🍒. Exploding Gas ⛽️ Tanks & NEW Well 🚿 models, even Fire 🔥 Hydrants.
Door County is the easternmost county in the U.S. state of Wisconsin. The dangerous passage, known as Death's Door, contains shipwrecks and was known to Native Americans and early French explorers. Indian artifacts are frequently unearthed as the area was well populated & rich and fertile hunting grounds - before the European settlers came west.
Door County is a popular Upper Midwest vacation destination.This map will take place soon long after the infection has taken over the lands of Chernarus.
You are a survivor who was adrift off in the Atlantic Ocean coming from Chernarus during the first of the infections - your ship headed to America hoping to escape the infection. Making your way through the great lakes your ship finally ran aground.
You are out of food, and any useable equipment left on your ship has been ruined and pillaged by other survivors.
Your only choice is to explore the regions of Door County Wisconsin, in hopes to live another day. Fruit it bountiful here.
Cherries are a big source of the regions revenue.There are plenty of forest areas and regions of explorations, and secret locations yet to be discovered.Wildlife has begun to take over as more of the human population dies off with infection and survivors move further south.
This map is a work in progress. It will be updated frequently & will require wipes with most updates. As the terrain and towns are developed further.

Monday
Mexican shredded cheese-topped blueberries. It’s what’s for breakfast when Minnie is on breakfast duty, in charge of monitoring your glucose, and you’re two years old.
Waterskiing for soggy sandwiches is the new skiing for donuts. Ski-vie Kate wanted to go first but had to wait for the larger of her two handlers to demonstrate how to use the ski trainer while her other handler ruptured her eardrums. After she waterskied to her parents’ satisfaction, it was time for a nap in her swimsuit, but the Contentot broke free from the blackout tent looking for juice and pajamas. Back out on the water again, Sea-Doo Kate was fed more sandwiches to perform for Instagram. During her break from filming, Stevie Chalk colored Belle’s fur pink and declared her love for the number one guy in the group, Tanner, with sidewalk art.
Tuesday
The Tuesday after Memorial Day means it’s back to work for the Turtles… just kidding! When you’re a Houghton, every day is a vacation day and they’re all still at the lake.
Feral Kate woke up with hair bigger than Sam’s but at least she didn’t have to spend the whole night sleeping in a dirty swimsuit. As the hardest working Houghton, she was immediately tasked with executing today’s content plan: Stand Up Waterskiing for a Two Year Old. Failure was not an option. Her wages? Unlimited sandwiches on the boat 🥪 and Rice Krispies doled out to her like cat treats off the side of the ski trainer.
In fact Stevie Sandwich consumed more sandwiches over Memorial Day weekend than Jen has eaten in her entire life - regular bread, Sola bread, or otherwise. Who can blame the little bread lover though. She was just trying to eat enough so that the giant life jacket they gave her would actually fit.
Snap Crackle Kate exceeded everyone’s expectations for waterskiing content and was rewarded with ice cream by coach Uncle Tanner. She seemed to love her moment in the spotlight on the water, smiling, hamming it up for the camera and singing along to her favorite Frozen songs.
Howler Monkey: Steven makes THE BEST peach cobbler in the world better cobbler than Tiffany. All you do is put peaches in the bottom of a baking dish, sprinkle cake mix on them, and slice up a stick of butter and put it on top of that. Because I never eat food or cook, I think it’s absolutely BRILLIANT. Wowowowow.
Wednesday
Dimwit took the day off IG but Jen storied what the Junior Turtles were up to today. Jen awoke to find Sleepy Kate blacked out in the kitchen and Dim and Dum asleep on the new sofa surrounded by a sea of plastic water bottles and cereal bowls. Apparently the A/C had gone out in their bedroom. Dimmy reported for Shilly babysitting duty while Tiffany and Adam went jet skiing. Tiffany had a case of mom brain which apparently made her forget riding a jet ski three weeks postpartum would be a bad idea. But somehow she bopped right through and Adam was the one left doubled over in pain. It was right back to work for Snap Crackle Kate as she waterskied again for Rice Krispies doled out by Tanner. Training Stevie Canine was such a success that Dummy didn’t even have to pull out his iPhone notes to reference his Fix Whining Plan.
Turtle time check. Jen shared stories from Saturday and tried to pass them off as today’s, of the Dirtles touring the new $5 million lake house she and Sr bought. In today’s depiction of Saturdays tour, SK seemed more impressed by the Castle o’ Timber, while Dimmy was ready for Jen to give it a Sarah Knuth-inspired makeover.
Back in real time, Jen shared her favorite family moments from the week at the lake house, and poor Dummy wasn’t featured in a single photo, while Dimmy was in one photo and Stevie Kate featured in five photos.
Thursday
Stevie Kontent’s wake up call: bright lights, big shrieks, and a phone shoved in her face. You can only hide under a blanket for so long before your handlers make you greet the internet with your good morning script and declare your love for all the fat poors who fund your travel. Next up it was time to force Shein Kate into some commissionable, linkable fast fashion while pretending the Contentot put together the cheap look all on her own.
Dummy updated us she got her period and is not pregnant with SK 2.0 (whew we’re all relieved to have a brief reprieve from turtle pregnancies).
String Cheese Kate had blueberries, a bracelet, a piece of cheese and avocado toast for lunch while Kimmy had a Go Hydrate drink containing 5 calories for lunch. So 👏🏻 so 👏🏻 yummy and it totally fills her up. After less than just one day back at home, Kimmy announced it’s time to travel again - to Arizona to see friends Brooke & Justin and then to a friend’s wedding in Utah - so she’s packing all her powders and supplements and shit to shill for the next several days.
Stevie Shaving Cream played with the neighbor boy in the tub with shaving cream but they didn’t like it, probably because their stupid moms couldn’t figure out that the tub is also a great place to rinse off the mess when they’re done. So the dim moms dragged the dirty tots through the house and plopped them outside at the water table to hose them off.
Dimmy was excited when a giant box was delivered - more shit to shill! - only to realize the package contained dozens of rolls of toilet paper addressed to Stevie Charmin. Was the tot’s BFF Sam behind this? Maybe he sent the package to SK to encourage her to TP Turtle Creek Lane as his punishment to the Senior Turtles for the Mormon bucket trek! Unbothered that strangers could be sending her weird stuff through the mail, Return to Sender Kate unboxed the rest of the day’s packages while reciting The Gruffalo and dumping a plate of her food on the floor.
Continued in comments due to character limit

Looking for recommendations on hiking trails that are toddler friendly (if they exist!) I will be in the South Jordan/Salt Lake City area for a couple weeks in July, and I would love to go hiking, but I have a 3 year old and 1 year old. Just trying to see if there are any easy, but still scenic hikes in the area. Thanks!

I just want some advice. So I live in utah and they are coming to Salt Lake city on July 27. MY BIRTHDAY, my favorite band, I'm turning 17, and it's my first time seeing them live, my mom splurged and got me a GA ticket, because the only thing I wanted for my birthday was to see them super super close. Is anyone gonna be there? I'm going to get a few hours before and wait, and I'm planning on making my way to the very front cause like i said its literally all I want. I just don't want people giving me shit, it's not like I didn't wait at all and am taking a spot. What's the best way to get up there?

I'm planning my Euro trip this and looking at creating an itinerary that allows me to explore hidden gems while staying within my budget. I've done some research and discovered that smaller, lesser-known cities and towns just an hour or so outside of larger metropolitan areas tend to be significantly more affordable. I'll be working a lot so not really concerned with doing anything really touristy, but open if i have an opportunity. I'm interested in food, wine, art, culture, beaches, and language learning.
So far i'm considering starting in Italy in Naples or Sorrento, staying in each location for a month, then traveling to Spain and heading to Valencia for a month. Background: From August to October, I'll be in Europe, primarily to obtain my passport via Jure Sanguinis and continue my personal project on researching my family history. As my family hails from the Campania region in Avellino, Italy, and Sicily, I aim to explore these areas extensively. Italy will be my main focus, with a two-month stay, followed by one month in Spain. Since I'll be working remotely during my trip, I'd prefer to stay in each location for at least a month and venture out on day trips or weekend excursions. So, I'm wondering what will be the best way to structure my trip logistically, whether to start in Spain or Italy and ideal locations to stay a month at a time. Important Trip Criteria: Coastal Access: As August and September are prime beach months, I'm keen to find a city or a location close enough to beaches, ideally the closer the better, but at least within an hour or so distance in the summer months Hidden Gems: I'm eager to explore lesser-known, off-the-beaten-path cities and towns that offer more unique experiences and fit well within my budget. These hidden gems just outside larger metropolitan areas tend to be more affordable Walkability and Public Transportation: Since I won't have a car, it's essential for me to choose cities that are highly walkable and provide reliable public transportation options. Renting a car for short trips is a possibility if needed. Social Opportunities: While working remotely, I'd love to be in a location that allows me to meet people, make friends, and experience the local social scene. Therefore, I'm inclined to avoid extremely small or remote towns that may lack such opportunities. Reliable Internet: Staying connected is crucial for my remote work. Access to reliable internet is a must to ensure I can be productive and enjoy a smooth digital experience throughout my trip Access to a gym, yoga ++ Also considering taking some lessons in Italian at a local school or with a tutor. Budget: I always try and keep my budget around $1,000/Mo for accommodations. Typically i'm staying in Airbnb's, and also have worked direct renting short term stays. I have been living in South America though mainly, so not sure if this will still be realistic in Spain/Italy. Willing to pay a little more if need be, but hoping not to exceed 1200-1300/ mo for my place.

Helloooo! It's me Chaco. Right now I'm living in the south east. Not quite living my best life but I'm getting there. One of my biggest issues is I don't know many other gals I can hang out with and connect with! I need some feminine energy! I would love to meet other gals and just chat, hang out, play video games, whatever. I'm into a ton of stuff! Video games, I play music, write songs, love watching movies, I'm a "maker" so I love making things. I love fighting games and movas, i olay a lotbof LOL and more recently dota. I love fashion a whole lot too! If you made it this far please reach out!

I’m a 19M from the United States but I’m currently living in South Korea and I’m the hunt for a long lasting friendship! Here is some stuff about me.
I’m really big into video games such as minecraft, warthunder, fallout 4 and much more
My music taste is all over the place ranging from country to metal it all depends on how my day is going. I would be more then happy to send my Spotify playlist to you.I do enjoy reading but I haven’t been as constant with it as I used to be, but when I do it’s mostly motivational stuff or about history.
I’m a big fan of hiking and occasionally fishing, I love hiking through the woods and up hills to find the best views
I always have some type of stupid meme that I’m willing send, I will always try to raise your spirts and I hope you’ll do the same for me. After all life can be hard sometimes.

Valid theories as to why Nine Mile Hole was so very special to Forrest Fenn are out there, if one cares to look carefully enough. But nobody yet to my uncertain knowledge has pointed to hints in The Thrill of the Chase or other evidence that explain why Fenn might have been so emotional about his journey to the special place that he cryptically described in the poem. Yes, it was the place he wanted to die, and that alone would be a good enough reason for emotion. Yet the sort of sentimentality that Fenn betrayed about the place – for example when he read the poem out loud – suggests something even deeper and more sorrowful: a sense of loss that is larger than the man himself.
It so happens that there truly is a source of information that reveals why Nine Mile Hole was so sacred to Forrest Fenn: an emotional connection had been forged as a result of dual tragedies. It is contained in poetry masquerading as prose written by Ernest Schwiebert, an expert on flies and flyfishing, in his seminal Nymphs: Stoneflies, Caddisflies, and Other Important Insects including the lesser mayflies, Volume II (2007).
The existence of this text and its importance to the chase was originally revealed by Vertigo, who first shared it on The Hint of Riches forum. Later, Vertigo reposted the excerpt from the Schwiebert text on Medium here along with the other results of his excellent research. All the Vertigo entries are a must read if you want to try walking in the shoes of Forrest Fenn. I won’t repeat that portion of the Schwiebert text previously shared by Vertigo in its entirety although I will include a few of the most relevant excerpts to help tie everything together.
What I want to focus on here is the emotional and motivational parts of the tragic story that Schwiebert eloquently told in the paragraphs that Vertigo did not quote. This material is critical in my opinion to understanding the importance of Nine Mile Hole and what happened there to make it the place where Fenn wanted to die.
To summarize, the fires that devastated Yellowstone in 1988 were in part the result of government mismanagement of forest fires on Federal land, much of which was due to political games (e.g. to discredit members of the other political party). These fires created havoc and destruction in the Madison watershed and its fisheries that went largely unacknowledged by environmentalists and the public at large. Only those who had fished those flywaters in the decades before the fires could truly understand the extent of the negative impact on the river and its riparian ecosystem.
Among other casualties, the brown trout hideout at the famous Nine Mile Hole was spoiled, and the spring-fed pond secreted in the woods nearby was literally wiped off the map. Its crystal clear waters – a quarter mile up a cold rivulet from the legendary hole on the Madison – had once rewarded the most tenacious Brown with the perfect spot to spawn. Now there was only brown sludge in its place. To someone who had intimately known Nine Mile Hole, its matronly crystalline pond, or any other riverine wonder of the Madison watershed in Yellowstone, it was enough to utterly break their heart.
Forrest Fenn's feelings about the ordeal were very much in the same vein as those expressed by Ernest Schwiebert. The difference was that the latter man did not need to keep a secret and therefore could lay bare his emotional injuries.
Indeed, the 1988 fires must have devastated Fenn similarly if not more so. But this grand tragedy was not quite as catastrophic to him as being diagnosed with cancer and given slim odds of surviving it. The year 1988 was not particularly kind to the man.
Fortunately, the forests and rivers of Yellowstone always seem to recover from the worst tribulations that nature could manage to throw at them, and so did Fenn. But not without a profound impact. The battle for survival and the scars left behind had connected Fenn to his special place at a level so primal and emotionally raw that it was almost umbilical. How could there ever be another consideration when it came to the somber task of choosing the place to take his last breath?
And then came the FBI raids in 2009. The Feds had had a hand in destroying his Shangri-La in Yellowstone in 1988, and now it seemed they wanted to finish robbing him of treasure while desecrating his reputation and castle in Santa Fe.
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH, he said to himself through sublime gritted teeth and with a resolve that only the gravely aggrieved can muster. I'm going to carry out my plan. In Yellowstone Park, damn the consequences!
The following is taken from Nymphs: Volume II, starting on page 237. Unless noted otherwise, boldface is mine for emphasis.
I note that Vertigo excluded an important portion of the first paragraph of the story so I will re-quote this paragraph in its entirety. He then faithfully reproduced the next 7 paragraphs, which I won't repeat but will highlight a few excerpts. See Vertigo's Medium post for the full text of the 7 paragraphs, or "DYODD" and buy the book.
Schwiebert's account contains several additonal paragraphs beyond the 7 quoted by Vertigo that are just as important in my opinion, plus there is a footnote that helps enormously to shed light on things. I quote these in their entirety as fair use in order to support the theory being advanced in this entry.

But the entire Yellowstone was ravaged by a series of wildfires in the drought of 1992, and one of the worst of these fires had crossed into the park from Bridger National Forest in Wyoming, just north of Grand Teton National Park.⁶ The great lodgepole forests of the Bechler and Firehole watersheds had become a tinderbox, and vast acreages of primeval timber were surrendered to the fire. Magnificent stands were transformed into fire-blackened cemeteries of snags. Entire mountainsides were utterly scorched as steep timber-filled ravines became incandescent chimneys filled with fire. Slopes of unstable volcanic soils were stripped of their trees and rendered vulnerable to the erosive impacts of winds, rains, and melting snowpacks. Frightening shrouds of talcum-fine soil and ash were carried aloft as storms worked across the Yellowstone Plateau. Gullies were quickly cut into unstable hillsides, and large alluvial fans of gritty clay and ash were formed at many places along the Madison, Gibbon, and Firehole. Such fans were visible immediately below Seven Mile Bridge on the Madison, and there was much worse damage at its famous Nine-Mile Hole, which had been the most popular pool.

Schwiebert makes an error here: the great drought and fires were actually in 1988 as he correctly states in Footnote 6; see near the end of this post.
The next 7 paragraphs are faithfully reproduced in full by Vertigo … I highlight a few key lines. Following this, I start to quote the paragraphs that are excluded from Vertigo's work.

Nine-Mile lay just below the highway, in a beautiful corridor of primeval lodgepoles and ponderosas …
It was a striking place with secrets. There was a crystalline springhead pond across the water, about a quarter mile beyond the river, and completely hidden behind a dense screen of intervening conifers.
Large brown trout were known to enter this minor lodgepole tributary in October to mate and lay their eggs …
I once caught a good fish in the little pond itself … a handsome five-pound hen that had apparently spawned and wintered, and then elected to stay.
The cold spillages of the crystalline creek entered the river in the uppermost shallows at Nine-Mile …
It was a spring-hole worth knowing. Large trout often gathered there in hot weather, basking in its cool temperatures where the ledge rock shelved off into a secret pocket. I could usually count on at least one good fish there, because most anglers simply fished the primary currents of Nine-Mile without covering the pocket below its aquatic weeds.
The fate of Nine-Mile, however, was a terrible surprise.

Compare to page 141 in TToTC with the following words bolded and in red: "Cancer is a terrible word." Boldfaced and redlined text is used within the memoir in only four places, twice in reference to cancer and twice to suggest a warning that something is scalding hot: "DO NOT TOUCH!". The reason for this editorial oddity should be obvious: red for fire, and the red boldface connects cancer to fire.

The fish-filled secret below the weeds was smothered with silt and trash, and the spring-hole itself was gone. I became curious about the fate of the forest pond, and forded the river to inspect it. Dour rivulets of slurry came spilling through the trees, and I was astonished when I reached the tarn.
Its crystalline shallows were completely filled with slurry and trash. A tiny paradise had been destroyed. The outlet was clogged with refuse and silt, and the barrage of trash had raised the water in the lake until its overflows were forced into several braided channels farther downstream. No trout could ascend such gritty rivulets to spawn, and no freshly hatched juveniles would use its spatterdock riches to reach smolting size. Nine-Mile itself had been irrevocably changed, and after dutifully suiting up, I found myself angry and unable to fish.

Compare to "There'll be no paddle up your creek, Just heavy loads and water high."
Consider why Schwiebert was "angry": the full extent of the devastation was perhaps preventable if Forest Service management had actually cared about the ecosystem within their purview instead of trying to score political points.
Schwiebert continues the story as follows, not quoted by Vertigo.

Some ecologists have argued that postfire impacts have largely proved beneficial because natural lightning-strike fires are obviously implicit in our natural forest ecosystems. The science of such truths remains clear. Lodgepole cones do not surrender their seeds without exposure to hot temperatures associated with natural fires, and the argument that ancestral fires have played a substantial role in the ecological history of such forests is sound.
Such apologists further contend that once-dangerous thickets of deadfalls and dry tinder in these lodgepole forests had healthily been purged, and argued that these Yellowstone fires had cleansed its historic forests. The new grasslands created were alleged to have improved bison and elk habitat because both are grazing species, but both bison and elk lacked major predators then and had become much too plentiful before the fires. The ecosystem did not need more bison and elk. Other apologists waxed poetic about the beneficial impacts of the fires on avifauna and their prey within the boundaries of the Yellowstone, but none mentioned their horrendous impact on the famous Yellowstone trout streams.
Some fishing writers have written pieces echoing the doubtful thesis that everything had been improved through the purging of the fires, and that the fishing had also been helped. One reported unusual numbers of larger fish in the Firehole. This was irresponsibly wishful conjecture on the part of observers who lacked a fifty-year perspective on the Yellowstone and its fisheries, and were not competent to pass such judgment. The truth is much less felicitous. Several key tributaries had become so choked with postfire sedimentation, ash, and charred debris that their fish, including large trout that had never seen anglers, had been displaced from their headwaters to find refuge in the Firehole itself.
Such fish were not a happy portent.

Compare the above paragraphs to Fenn on page 141 of TToTC where he follows up the redlined and bolded "Cancer is a terrible word" with "The disease it defines represents nature in its most repellent form."

Fires also ravaged the hillsides along the lower Gibbon. Steeper slopes had quickly eroded, forming labyrinthine networks of raw gullies and wounds leaving the narrow highway below Gibbon Falls buried under great alluvial fans of mud, gritty precipitates, and trash. Heavy equipment had cleared the right-of-way, leaving great windrows of marl in many places, and the Gibbon became choked with waist-deep strata of raw sediments and ash. The great beauty of the box canyon below the Gibbon Falls had been charred and scarified by fire, leaving a river littered with postfire trash and mud winding through cemeteries of charred lodgepoles. I did not attempt to fish, and decided to investigate the fire damage along the Firehole.
The fires had decimated its remarkable lodgepole forests in many places between the Cascades of the Firehole and the Fountain Flats above Nez Perce Creek. I turned south on the old freight road toward Ojo Caliente, and found more fire damage there, but worse burns had overwhelmed the shores of Goose Lake. Its trees had been killed in fires of such temperature and intensity that their fire-seared trunks looked like they had been coated with shiny black lacquer. Fire had smoldered in the great mattresses of dead needles that once carpeted the entire forest floor, and when I used a tire iron to root deep into the burned earth, I found that fire had festered into its thick mattresses of pine needles to depths of eight and ten inches. Goose Lake was now encircled with skeletal lodgepoles that had been killed and charred by fire, although damselflies were still emerging from its shallow margins, swimming ashore to climb the blackened deadfalls and split their nymphal skins.
The scars were much worse beyond the lake.

Compare to cancer as above and to the poem words "Tarry scant": the word tarry could also mean covered by tar in addition to its more common interpretation of delay.

I reached the river and simply sat in the car, staring at its crippled forests with tears in my eyes, remembering the circling seasons I had enjoyed in these uncommon meadows. There were decades of happy memories from this place. I had shared a number of wonderful picnics at Feather Lake with old friends like the late John Hemingway, the late John Daniel Callaghan, and Bud Lilly. I particularly remember awakening from a post-lunch nap on the lodgepole bench at Feather to find Hemingway looking upstream toward the geyser plumes at Midway.
"Know what's wrong with this place?" Hemingway said with a sigh.
"No," I confessed.
"We don't own it," he said.
The narrow trace and cul-de-sac were no longer sheltered in a theatrical corridor of lodgepoles and big ponderosas, and a place of remarkable beauty had been utterly sacrificed and lost. The Firehole still flowed under the fire-blackened bench, a glittering necklace of bright water, with great billows of steam still rising from the geyser basin upstream. I had shared this place with a long parade of people across more than fifty years, and the morning was filled with echoes. I left the car and was surprised by the silence. There were no birds, no brash camp robbers arrived to beg for table scraps, and no skittish chipmunks scuttled across the forest floor. There was nothing for buzzards to scavenge, and no voles to interest circling hawks. The pale September sky was empty. Wind stirred in the blackened snags, which groaned and creaked. The meadow had offered some remarkable sport over the years, and I had hoped to fish, but there was no thought of fishing now.
I drove slowly back along the washboard trace toward Ojo Caliente, through its fire-scarred mausoleum of trees, as a big storm was starting to gather and build along the Pitchstone Ridge. Its conifers had also been ravaged as the wildfires crossed into the Firehole watershed, leaving its summits a raw wasteland of charred earth and gritty ash. The sun had quickly surrendered to an ominous gunmetal sky, and as the storm finally broke along its battlements, immense clouds of loose soil and ash billowed high into the darkening gloom. Such spiraling squalls of silt and windmilling ash would eventually reach the little Firehole itself, and further despoil its hyaline currents. I suddenly understood how profoundly its watershed had been changed.
And it utterly broke my heart.

😪
Footnote 6 on page 735 is revealing. It reads:

There is much credible evidence that these fires had begun outside Yellowstone Park, in the Absaroka headwaters of the Yellowstone in the Shoshone National Forest, and in the Teton National Forest north of Jackson Hole. The fires were fought on national forest tracts, but firefighters were withdrawn once the fires entered the national park itself. The fires were permitted to burn inside the national park for short-term political purposes, because 1988 was an election year. Our natural-fire policy had actually emerged under Presidents Nixon and Ford, and was based on sound forest science, but its application became a regional political issue when both Nathaniel Pryor Reed and Cecil Andrus refused to extinguish a number of controversial fires on federal land. Political opponents fought the Yellowstone fires aggressively outside the national park because the blazes had apparently begun in campfires and lightning strikes on the national forests. Firefighters had been deployed while these fires were still burning on tracts of commercial saw timber, but were stopped once the fires had crossed into Yellowstone. Some of the worst damage occurred on the Firehole and Thoroughfare, and these fires were not fought until they threatened park installations at Canyon and Fishing Bridge, and the historic art sauvage hotel located at Old Faithful. Andrus was no longer Secretary of the Interior when I met him, but during an interview in his office at Boise, I sought his opinion of the Yellowstone fires. Andrus still believed that the bipartisan natural-fire policy had been supported by good science, and pointed out that more than twenty petrified forests within park boundaries suggest that Yellowstone had survived worse destruction, although that perspective is little comfort to anglers who will never again enjoy the pristine Madison and Firehole of recent memory. He agreed that Yellowstone itself was not large enough to protect its aggregate ecosystem, and further conceded that a zealotry that had continued to advocate natural-fire policy in the worst drought summer in recorded history had perhaps been unwise. But he shook his head over the political tactics of appointees in the Forest Service, who had protected tracts of commercial saw timber while later permitting the Yellowstone itself to burn, and had further attempted to discredit the Carter Administration during the election of 1980.

From TToTC page 26: "One day my father gave me a spanking at school for running across some stupid desks, then that night he gave me a spanking at home because I got a spanking at school. The more I thought about that the more I felt put upon. When I explained to him that I'd been double jeopardized he told me that those things didn't count in a dictatorship. That's when I started to mistrust governments."
From TToTC page 147: "Now I feel that my father is sitting on the edge of a cloud somewhere watching. If he knows everything about me he's pretty busy lighting candles, some of them on both ends. But I hope he knows that I've been sometimes guilty only by innuendo, and that's why I wrote my epitaph with such profundity: I wish I could have lived to do, the things I was attributed to."
In 2009, the FBI raided Fenn and several other art dealers – and alleged looters – of Native American artifacts in the Southwest. The raid resulted in the confiscation of just four items from Fenn (none of which could be proven as having been obtained by him illicitly).
https://www.sfreporter.com/news/coverstories/2009/08/19/stealing-the-past/
This was more than just a nuisance … Fenn's reputation had been impugned and two other dealers who were arrested after the raids committed suicide. These guys were likely people he knew or may have even been his friends. A third man arrested in the case also committed suicide; he was a government informant who essentially helped the federal agents entrap the Four Corners dealers.
https://www.santafenewmexican.com/news/local_news/dealer-blame-fbi-for-seller-suicides-in-four-corners-looting-case/article_f8613507-1b71-513a-ba21-43a6b0622c0b.html
Fenn was supposedly very angry and threatened Tony Dokoupil with legal action when the reporter spoke with old "pothunting" acquaintances and revealed some unsavory information about Fenn's artifact-collecting past, for example: "... Fenn wasn't just taking a treasure or two but returning to caves and stripping them clean …" In the end, the publicity of appearing in Newsweek magazine at such an early stage in the treasure hunt must have overridden Fenn's desire to keep some of those things that he "was attributed to" under wraps.
https://www.newsweek.com/forrest-fenn-wants-you-find-his-treasure-and-his-bones-64427
The FBI raids – based on purchases of artifacts by a government informant using government money to entice dealers to specifically sell him contraband, and which were conducted by multi-agency SWAT teams – were highly controversial for many locals. No doubt Fenn was pissed off at the Feds more than ever at that point. Despite the epitaph he wrote for himself, he certainly did not want to be remembered as "the old guy in Santa Fe raided by the FBI".
Less than a year later, he published his memoir with its treasure hunt poem. Little chance the timing was just a coincidence.
Finally, does anybody find it intriguing that Fenn rarely if ever talked about the 1988 fire in Yellowstone? It happened the same year he got cancer (or did it?), and he talked plenty about that personal ordeal. The fire and its aftereffects utterly destroyed some of his most cherished places where he had fished for trout and melded with nature since he was a young boy, including his (probably) favorite fishing hole at TOP SECRET "Nine-Mile" and not to mention the magical wood on the far bank of the river with its secluded crystal pond to which he would have gone alone and sat under pine trees, napping, daydreaming, watching wildlife, marveling at the mountain and river vistas, and writing poems or love notes to his wife. Yet not a peep from him about the conflagration that ravaged all of that? Curious.