Burmese restaurant near me
Should I try an IUD after a failed insertion?
2023.03.30 17:02 theaxolotlgod Should I try an IUD after a failed insertion?
Hi all, I'm currently on Nexplanon and it would be perfect except for the fact I've had NO libido on it (which kind of defeats the whole purpose of BC lol). I had the Skyla IUD before until it expired, the insertion was awful and I nearly passed out.
Last year I tried to get a new IUD (this doctor didn't have Skyla so they tried another one, I forget which but it was supposed to be the next smallest). The removal of the skyla was fine, but the insertion of the new IUD was just as bad or even worse than the first time. Like screaming at the top of my lungs, worst pain I've ever felt, nearly threw up and passed out again. The doctor told me the insertion failed (no other details) and asked whether I wanted to try again, I absolutely could not so I asked for the nexplanon instead.
Anyway, I was wondering if a)anyone has had a failed IUD insertion and could share the reason for it? I wonder if I was bearing down too hard because of the pain, or if my uterus is tilted or something? and b) whether I should try to get an IUD again, this time with better painkillers (other suggestions for how to help absolutely welcome). Thanks for reading my novel, and in advance for the help!
submitted by theaxolotlgod to birthcontrol [link] [comments]
Last year I tried to get a new IUD (this doctor didn't have Skyla so they tried another one, I forget which but it was supposed to be the next smallest). The removal of the skyla was fine, but the insertion of the new IUD was just as bad or even worse than the first time. Like screaming at the top of my lungs, worst pain I've ever felt, nearly threw up and passed out again. The doctor told me the insertion failed (no other details) and asked whether I wanted to try again, I absolutely could not so I asked for the nexplanon instead.
Anyway, I was wondering if a)anyone has had a failed IUD insertion and could share the reason for it? I wonder if I was bearing down too hard because of the pain, or if my uterus is tilted or something? and b) whether I should try to get an IUD again, this time with better painkillers (other suggestions for how to help absolutely welcome). Thanks for reading my novel, and in advance for the help!
2023.03.30 17:02 ParkPuppy Here me out and tell me your opinion please
Here me out please and tell me your opinion. I needed it so bad.
this is about what I have experienced recently. I am dumb founded and I needed an opinion because I really didn’t know what’s the purpose of what happened. Here’s the story.
My class ended and I was about to go home. I already booked a grab and while I was waiting, there’s this US Citizen Filipino Chinese who walked up to and ask me “where’s P. Noval?” I was about to answer his question but he shrugged and change the topic and started asking for an interview for his Thesis in Social Studies. I was taken aback but I know the struggle of getting a primary data so I decided to entertain. I said “so what’s the question? I’m actually waiting for my grab to arrive but maybe I could answer a few of your question”. He told me to cancel it because it would take a little bit longer, and told me that he would pay for my grab. I gave him the benefit of the doubt so I cancelled the booking and asked him “so what’s the question?”. He told me if we could walk while doing the interview, I said “Is this some sort of like a scheme, are you a bad person?”. He answered, “No, I’m not. Im just doing this for my Thesis, what else is there for me to do except for my Thesis”. I trusted him and then we sat down on the side street and he started talking. He said “pinky promise me you won’t tell anybody”. Like shit, I would of course tell this to anybody if this gets dangerous.
Then he started talking about the perception of western people about the Philippines that when they heard the name of our country they immediately think of “Manny Pacquiao” or “Duterte” rather than the what really Philippines is good at. I thought that maybe this is legit thesis and so I replied “If that’s the perception then I guess Philippines hasn’t promoted enough in the western countries of what our country can offer but come to think of it, is it really only those whose making remarks? Aren’t you like thinking about beach, palawan, mango, and banana like what our neighboring countries think of us?” And so he looked at me and said “I think you’re a conservative person”. I replied “Yes, I am. Very. What about it?”. He just told me “I dont think I can go on with the interview”. And I was like whut?! I mean I sensed something but Im not really sure. He told me “you can go now to where you were earlier, I have to pee”. I said “okay, I think this is going nowhere. In case you dont know, there’s more restaurant in dapitan where you can pee”. Then he said “No, there’s a restaurant near there. Bye!”. I know that there’s no restaurant there but he insisted.
I was really lost and I dont really know what’s the purpose. Does anybody have an opinion what was that that just happened?
submitted by ParkPuppy to adultingph [link] [comments]
this is about what I have experienced recently. I am dumb founded and I needed an opinion because I really didn’t know what’s the purpose of what happened. Here’s the story.
My class ended and I was about to go home. I already booked a grab and while I was waiting, there’s this US Citizen Filipino Chinese who walked up to and ask me “where’s P. Noval?” I was about to answer his question but he shrugged and change the topic and started asking for an interview for his Thesis in Social Studies. I was taken aback but I know the struggle of getting a primary data so I decided to entertain. I said “so what’s the question? I’m actually waiting for my grab to arrive but maybe I could answer a few of your question”. He told me to cancel it because it would take a little bit longer, and told me that he would pay for my grab. I gave him the benefit of the doubt so I cancelled the booking and asked him “so what’s the question?”. He told me if we could walk while doing the interview, I said “Is this some sort of like a scheme, are you a bad person?”. He answered, “No, I’m not. Im just doing this for my Thesis, what else is there for me to do except for my Thesis”. I trusted him and then we sat down on the side street and he started talking. He said “pinky promise me you won’t tell anybody”. Like shit, I would of course tell this to anybody if this gets dangerous.
Then he started talking about the perception of western people about the Philippines that when they heard the name of our country they immediately think of “Manny Pacquiao” or “Duterte” rather than the what really Philippines is good at. I thought that maybe this is legit thesis and so I replied “If that’s the perception then I guess Philippines hasn’t promoted enough in the western countries of what our country can offer but come to think of it, is it really only those whose making remarks? Aren’t you like thinking about beach, palawan, mango, and banana like what our neighboring countries think of us?” And so he looked at me and said “I think you’re a conservative person”. I replied “Yes, I am. Very. What about it?”. He just told me “I dont think I can go on with the interview”. And I was like whut?! I mean I sensed something but Im not really sure. He told me “you can go now to where you were earlier, I have to pee”. I said “okay, I think this is going nowhere. In case you dont know, there’s more restaurant in dapitan where you can pee”. Then he said “No, there’s a restaurant near there. Bye!”. I know that there’s no restaurant there but he insisted.
I was really lost and I dont really know what’s the purpose. Does anybody have an opinion what was that that just happened?
2023.03.30 17:02 zarcaroni Wedding fabric stores?
So a friend of mine is getting married and she asked me if I could make her wedding and reception dress. Now I haven’t shopped for “real” fabric since I worked at a certain craft store. I usually just buy tablecloths and bedsheets from salvation and call it a day but since this is a nicer circumstance, maybe a tablecloth isn’t the best way to go. (My wedding dress tho? Absolutely will be made of a tablecloth or bed sheet) what are some good shops for more bridal fabric? I’ve check out Joanne’s but the one near me has a pretty small selection.
submitted by zarcaroni to sewing [link] [comments]
2023.03.30 17:02 Sad_Ad_33 Boygenius Spotify code??
There are no shows near me and I’m trying to travel to one, but then won’t receive a presale code since I’m nowhere near where they’re playing!!! can someone share the presale code with me? I wasn’t able to get tickets yesterday :(((
submitted by Sad_Ad_33 to phoebebridgers [link] [comments]
2023.03.30 17:00 Working_Celery I was my mother's boyfriend.
I've been trying to connect the dots. So many things didn't make sense to me till I finally pieced them together.
I'm currently 26 yo male with an amazing girlfriend and I hope that I will be able to stay in this relationship without blowing it up.
From around 13 yo, I've had an inexplicable fear and hatred of women. I was attracted to girls, but I couldn't seem to see myself being with them or even near them. The proximity or physical contact of a girl put me on high alert, like I was in danger. The pain of loving and hating women destroyed me.
At 14 yo, I experienced serious depersonalization and derealization. I felt so out of touch with reality and myself. I remember trying to describe my experience to google and learning about these words. I spent most of my teenage years socially isolated. I was addicted to video games, masturbation and porn.
In my late teens to early 20s, I had a strong preference for older women, or women who were taller than me. I felt physical attraction to girls my age, but I had no interest in dating them. I had strange sexual fantasies too. I often fantasized about being molested by women, particularly older women. I didn't know why it turned me on so much. I visited prostitutes a handful of times and I only visited older women. Their ages ranged from 30 to 50. I realized at age 21 that I had a sex addiction problem. Each visit to a prostitute left me with deep guilt and shame, yet I kept going back. I hated masturbating to porn yet I couldn't stop myself. I decided to start NoFap to regain a sense of sexual normalcy.
I say with great shame that I had an incest fetish. I sexualized other family members. I fantasized about sexual encounters with an imaginary sister and with extended family members.
My mother walks around the house in just a tank top and panties most of the time. It has always been this way all my life. A few times in my late teens to early 20s, I felt aroused by the sight of her. I ignored these thoughts. Despite this, I couldn't tolerate any physical contact with my mother from the age of around 12. Any physical contact with her, no matter how small and inconsequential, would send me into a fit of rage. I'd shout at her to not touch me and to get away from me. It wasn't always like that. I used to be very close and very affectionate with my mother.
My mother treated me like her boyfriend for most of my life. I have a younger brother and an older brother, but my mother treated me like I was special when I was a child. I slept with her in the same bed as a child till about 11-12 yo. She swung between telling me that she wants to elope with me to another country to start a new life together and telling me that she wants to abandon the family or kill herself. I was her emotional blanket. We had many deep emotional and philosophical conversations together. I was in love with my mother.
The incest kicked in full swing after my father was imprisoned when I was around 10 yo. My father was physically abusive towards me till then. I remember being happy that he was gone. I didn't just want him gone, I wanted him dead.
We only had one usable bathroom/toilet at home. Once, probably around 10 yo, I wanted to poop while my mother was showering. I told her and she let me in to poop. I pooped naked at that time. Mind you, there is no wall, curtain or barrier between the shower and the toilet. I remember watching my mother shower and having lots of conversations with her. Somehow, this became a regular thing I looked forward to. Sometimes, I had no intention to poop, but I still went into the bathroom and be at the toilet naked watching her shower. One time, I saw my mother having her period. I watched period blood flow down her legs while she showered. She explained to me that this is what women experience every month and that it's good for me to learn more about women. I simply nodded and listened to her obediently.
There was once my mother, my younger brother and I were watching a film at home together and a pornographic sex scene came up. I remember feeling uncomfortable and weirded out by it. I looked over to my mother and she seemed unfazed. I remember her telling me that it's no big deal, it's only weird if I make it weird.
My mother often dressed and undressed in the bedroom with me inside. I asked my younger brother and he seemed to also remember seeing my mother change, but less than me. Often, I would be in my bed and my mother would come in to change. She'd tell me not to look while she changed. I would hide my face in my blanket to avoid seeing her naked. This makes no sense to me now. If she didn't want me to look, why didn't she tell me to leave the room? Why did she let me stay inside?
I seemed to have a strong fascination with my erect penis as a toddler. I vaguely remember showing my erect penis to my mother. I remember feeling very intrigued by it and asking my mother why my penis became big.
I have been hypersexual ever since I was a young child. I remember having sexual fantasies at around 5 yo. The sexual fantasies involved my mother or the female teachers at the kindergarten. I remember looking at my mother's bra hung behind a door and feeling aroused by it.
I have a very suspicious memory. I was probably around 10 yo and my father was in jail at the time. I was in the bedroom with just my mother. I remember feeling very angry and violated. Then, my mother said to me "girls can touch boys, but boys cannot touch girls". I became furious. I understood that my mother was telling me that I can be molested by women. I threw a tantrum said "I hate girls". Since then, when I slept at night, I felt a strong need to cover myself with my blanket, especially my private parts. For some reason, I didn't feel safe sleeping. I am unable to recall what led up to this incident, but it is a strong indicator to me that my mother may have molested me. I have a vague feeling that she stopped since this incident. I asked my mother as an adult now if she remembers saying this. She didn't remember but she told me that it makes sense that she told me "boys cannot touch girls" because she didn't want me to be accused of sexual assault.
At around 10 yo, a school teacher told the class that I used to be a very cheerful and happy kid when she first met me, but now I seemed sad and emotionless most of the time. From then till my early 20s, I had several episodes of depression and anxiety. Since 13 yo, I have frequent suicidal and homicidal thoughts till today.
The sexual abuse is only one piece of the puzzle. My father's physical abuse, my mother's borderline personality, the parent-child role reversal, the emotional abuse, the complete neglect by both my parents, the excessive hoarding that both my parents did, all of these left me deeply broken inside. I remember telling people as a teenager that I live with my parents but I feel like an orphan.
submitted by Working_Celery to adultsurvivors [link] [comments]
I'm currently 26 yo male with an amazing girlfriend and I hope that I will be able to stay in this relationship without blowing it up.
From around 13 yo, I've had an inexplicable fear and hatred of women. I was attracted to girls, but I couldn't seem to see myself being with them or even near them. The proximity or physical contact of a girl put me on high alert, like I was in danger. The pain of loving and hating women destroyed me.
At 14 yo, I experienced serious depersonalization and derealization. I felt so out of touch with reality and myself. I remember trying to describe my experience to google and learning about these words. I spent most of my teenage years socially isolated. I was addicted to video games, masturbation and porn.
In my late teens to early 20s, I had a strong preference for older women, or women who were taller than me. I felt physical attraction to girls my age, but I had no interest in dating them. I had strange sexual fantasies too. I often fantasized about being molested by women, particularly older women. I didn't know why it turned me on so much. I visited prostitutes a handful of times and I only visited older women. Their ages ranged from 30 to 50. I realized at age 21 that I had a sex addiction problem. Each visit to a prostitute left me with deep guilt and shame, yet I kept going back. I hated masturbating to porn yet I couldn't stop myself. I decided to start NoFap to regain a sense of sexual normalcy.
I say with great shame that I had an incest fetish. I sexualized other family members. I fantasized about sexual encounters with an imaginary sister and with extended family members.
My mother walks around the house in just a tank top and panties most of the time. It has always been this way all my life. A few times in my late teens to early 20s, I felt aroused by the sight of her. I ignored these thoughts. Despite this, I couldn't tolerate any physical contact with my mother from the age of around 12. Any physical contact with her, no matter how small and inconsequential, would send me into a fit of rage. I'd shout at her to not touch me and to get away from me. It wasn't always like that. I used to be very close and very affectionate with my mother.
My mother treated me like her boyfriend for most of my life. I have a younger brother and an older brother, but my mother treated me like I was special when I was a child. I slept with her in the same bed as a child till about 11-12 yo. She swung between telling me that she wants to elope with me to another country to start a new life together and telling me that she wants to abandon the family or kill herself. I was her emotional blanket. We had many deep emotional and philosophical conversations together. I was in love with my mother.
The incest kicked in full swing after my father was imprisoned when I was around 10 yo. My father was physically abusive towards me till then. I remember being happy that he was gone. I didn't just want him gone, I wanted him dead.
We only had one usable bathroom/toilet at home. Once, probably around 10 yo, I wanted to poop while my mother was showering. I told her and she let me in to poop. I pooped naked at that time. Mind you, there is no wall, curtain or barrier between the shower and the toilet. I remember watching my mother shower and having lots of conversations with her. Somehow, this became a regular thing I looked forward to. Sometimes, I had no intention to poop, but I still went into the bathroom and be at the toilet naked watching her shower. One time, I saw my mother having her period. I watched period blood flow down her legs while she showered. She explained to me that this is what women experience every month and that it's good for me to learn more about women. I simply nodded and listened to her obediently.
There was once my mother, my younger brother and I were watching a film at home together and a pornographic sex scene came up. I remember feeling uncomfortable and weirded out by it. I looked over to my mother and she seemed unfazed. I remember her telling me that it's no big deal, it's only weird if I make it weird.
My mother often dressed and undressed in the bedroom with me inside. I asked my younger brother and he seemed to also remember seeing my mother change, but less than me. Often, I would be in my bed and my mother would come in to change. She'd tell me not to look while she changed. I would hide my face in my blanket to avoid seeing her naked. This makes no sense to me now. If she didn't want me to look, why didn't she tell me to leave the room? Why did she let me stay inside?
I seemed to have a strong fascination with my erect penis as a toddler. I vaguely remember showing my erect penis to my mother. I remember feeling very intrigued by it and asking my mother why my penis became big.
I have been hypersexual ever since I was a young child. I remember having sexual fantasies at around 5 yo. The sexual fantasies involved my mother or the female teachers at the kindergarten. I remember looking at my mother's bra hung behind a door and feeling aroused by it.
I have a very suspicious memory. I was probably around 10 yo and my father was in jail at the time. I was in the bedroom with just my mother. I remember feeling very angry and violated. Then, my mother said to me "girls can touch boys, but boys cannot touch girls". I became furious. I understood that my mother was telling me that I can be molested by women. I threw a tantrum said "I hate girls". Since then, when I slept at night, I felt a strong need to cover myself with my blanket, especially my private parts. For some reason, I didn't feel safe sleeping. I am unable to recall what led up to this incident, but it is a strong indicator to me that my mother may have molested me. I have a vague feeling that she stopped since this incident. I asked my mother as an adult now if she remembers saying this. She didn't remember but she told me that it makes sense that she told me "boys cannot touch girls" because she didn't want me to be accused of sexual assault.
At around 10 yo, a school teacher told the class that I used to be a very cheerful and happy kid when she first met me, but now I seemed sad and emotionless most of the time. From then till my early 20s, I had several episodes of depression and anxiety. Since 13 yo, I have frequent suicidal and homicidal thoughts till today.
The sexual abuse is only one piece of the puzzle. My father's physical abuse, my mother's borderline personality, the parent-child role reversal, the emotional abuse, the complete neglect by both my parents, the excessive hoarding that both my parents did, all of these left me deeply broken inside. I remember telling people as a teenager that I live with my parents but I feel like an orphan.
2023.03.30 17:00 _call-me-al_ [Thu, Mar 30 2023] TL;DR — This is the top investing content you missed in the last 24 hours on Reddit
stocks
Found a paper stock certificate while cleaning. Is it worth anything?Comments Link
Electronic Arts is cutting about 800 jobs, or 6% of workforce, and reducing office space
Comments Link
Goldman Sachs: U.S. consumer sentiment is deteriorating rapidly
Comments Link
StockMarket
$150 Billion Tax Fraud & Money Laundering SchemeComments Link
This got me😂😂
Comments Link
BREAKING: China & Brazil have agreed to trade in their own currencies, ditching the US dollar.
Comments Link
investing
Big fall in Spain's CPI for march.Comments Link
Where are T-Bills headed?
Comments Link
Uncorrelated assets S&P500
Comments Link
trakstocks
Interesting News: Acquisition Rights Obtained for Immuno-Oncology Treatments Using CAR T Technology, Cell Therapy for Cancers (NASDAQ: COEP)Comments Link
I’m embracing this opportunity and finding the positives , that right now I’m able to accumulate a lot of shares and reduce my average. Some day soon all the pain will be worth all the gain and I have faith and it cannot be broken !
Comments Link
Element79: High-Grade Gold Project with Near-Term Cash Flow Potential (CSE : ELEM, OTC: ELMGF)
Comments Link
UndervaluedStonks
wallstreetbets
Credit Suisse whistleblowers say Swiss bank has been helping wealthy Americans dodge U.S. taxes for yearsComments Link
It’s been quiet, too quiet…
Comments Link
JPow has a word for the bulls
Comments Link
market_sentiment
Let’s say for $25,000 you could buy a 10% interest in the income of any one of your classmates that you wanted to. Would you do it?Comments Link
options
Trading ATM puts on small cap tech stocks after a bull run from external catalysts?Comments Link
Has anyone following PYPL option closely?
Comments Link
How is volatility calculated in Cox-Ross-Rubinstein model?
Comments Link
pennystocks
You only have to be right once. That is all.Comments Link
$GMZP - The Hottest Merger Play Currently in OTC; Here's Why
Comments Link
MULN starts delivery to Randy Marion (confirmed)
Comments Link
SecurityAnalysis
Jim Chanos: A Short Thesis on Data CentersComments Link
China grants billions in bailouts as Belt and Road Initiative falters…
Comments Link
Valuation of Adobe + Figma
Comments Link
Biotechplays
VIR BiotechnologyComments Link
algotrading
Alternative BrokersComments Link
Collecting and cleaning data for Renko brick strategies
Comments Link
TDA Time and Sales?
Comments Link
Forex
March P/LComments Link
If you don't sleep well, then something must be incredibly wrong with your risk management. Go fix it. Heart issues ain't a joke
Comments Link
Trade 006 - Net Profits = 233.95 USD in 50 Minutes - GBPUSD with Trade Balancers
Comments Link
RobinHood
Stock Market Recap for Wednesday, March 29, 2023Comments Link
CryptoMarkets
SEC Chair Gary Gensler to Face Questions on Approach towards the Crypto RegulationComments Link
CryptoCurrency on Reddit: China, Brazil strike deal to ditch dollar for trade
Comments Link
Anyone feel like this XRP case is not going to go the way we think??
Comments Link
2023.03.30 16:59 dirtydozen6 My beard line naturally grows in high. Where should I cut my beard line in at? My barber for the life of him cannon do it straight and I constantly have to let it regrow. Side note. There isn’t any other option for a barber that will cut beards near me.
 | submitted by dirtydozen6 to BeardAdvice [link] [comments] |
2023.03.30 16:59 BoysenberrySure8048 38(m) recently diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer which has metastasized to my liver.
Hello all - First I would like to offer my very best wishes for everyone else suffering from this disease. I wanted to share my story as it unfolds, in hopes that it helps someone else. From early childhood I always had stomach issues, even in grade school I would get extremely painful stomach cramps, and had diarrhea near constantly. This lasted up until around high school when my symptoms suddenly stopped. The doctors chalked it off to stress or IBS, nothing was done. Now I do not think this was related to my cancer, however I am communicating that stomach issues were pretty normal for me. So when they started again later in life, I did not give it the attention I should have. I dropped out of high school shortly after 9/11 and got my GED so I could enlist in the Navy. My dad was also enlisted in the Army National Guard, he was activated and unfortunately died during operation Nobel Eagle from a heart attack. Fast forward twenty some odd years, and I am a software engineer for one of the USA's "big banks". I do pretty well for myself, considering growing up in rural west Tennessee and only having a GED. I worked my ass off, and would take any job that would give me experience in the IT world. Eventually, I worked my way up to managing a team of software developers who write/maintain one of the data exchange protocols that keeps the financial world running. It is something I am extremely proud of, being for the most part self-educated. Earning a six figure salary means my wife (amazing women, no way I could do any of this without her, and I mean any of this. From the amazing career to the new diagnosis. She is my everything) does not have to work. Then after covid I was allowed to move back home, cost of living here is low, and with our monthly income we are able to lead very comfortable lives. But the stomach issues started up again, due to the issues I had early in life I just ignored them, assuming it was IBS/stress related as I was told before. Then around Jan 20th 2023, the pain got almost unbearable. It mostly hurt around my "guts" and in what I thought was my kidneys. Being a "manly" man, I thought it was my first kidney stone, and I could just power through it. I even took a few days off work so I could "relax" while in process of passing the stone. Fast forward 4 days, the pain is now so intense I literally passed out on the toilet when trying to have a bowel movement. There was also some blood, not a lot, and seeing a bit of blood in my stool was not completely abnormal. I only asked for three days off work, Wednesday-Friday, and it was now Sunday afternoon and I felt worse than before. I was convinced it was a kidney stone, just based on how people described it as "the worst possible pain for a man" and it's general location. But work was coming up so I figured I had better go to the ER, to either get some pain meds so I could work, or see if I was going to need help passing the stone. So they did the initial CT scan to get a closer look. This is when my world completely changed. On the scan (no kidney stones by the way) they noticed a 4mm growth in my colon. My first thought was "It cant be cancerous, I am only 38", after a few more tests our worst fears were confirmed. Not only was it cancer but it was stage 4, and had all ready spread to my liver. I have so far had 4 treatments of chemo, after the next treatment they will do a rescan to see if it has made any difference at all. I guess the point of this rambling post, (my first reddit post by the way) is just to remind people how quickly life can change. The wife and I (no kids) went from having financial freedom, a great job, and the ability to travel as we saw fit. Looking back we had such a great life, basically we were living the 30-something dream. Now it is chemo treatments, the being sick after said treatments, and the overall stress and worry of "how long?" I have become completely obsessed and hyper focused on making sure my life insurance is in good order, so that she will be taken care of after I am gone. Using phrases like "after I am gone" have become normalized here at home, and to a certain extent I am ok with that. I guess I have accepted my fate, but I NEED to know my family will be OK afterwards. Does anyone else feel this way? Is this normal, or a part of the grieving process? How do you balance the "time left vs. family wellbeing? I plan to post more here in the future, but I just wanted to get this off my chest. Thanks for listening, and as always, fuck cancer.
submitted by BoysenberrySure8048 to cancer [link] [comments]
2023.03.30 16:58 faenerysdorkborn Health Hazard Floors; Help! [Goal: $8000]
I'm "Fae" and I took ownership of a home in 2011 that needed a lot of repairs, including replacing the flooring throughout. Due to family illness, the floors were never finished. It has been nearly twelve years, and the floors are still not complete. I would like to start a family with my husband, but we feel it's irresponsible to raise children in a home where they cannot safely crawl on the floor. The house is on a concrete slab, which was never sealed. Concrete is porous, so there are over a decade of spills, pet accidents, grime, dust, etc., are soaked deep into the slab. The health factor is the pet urine that cannot be cleaned by traditional methods.
After consulting with professionals, we determined that the floor would need to be:
1) Treated with an enzyme cleaner, possibly more than once
2) Extracted with large equipment, which we will need to rent
3) Sealed by a professional to prevent any future damage to the slab
4) New flooring laid so it can be sanitized effectively at regular intervals.
I own my home outright, but neither my husband nor I have any credit. We have spoken with banks and lenders, but we do not qualify for any loans based on credit and do not have a co-signer that we could ask to sign with us. I have applied for grant funding through my city, but it's unlikely that we will be approved; I started a higher-paying job in June, and now my income is just above the threshold to qualify. I am working with their organization to see if we qualify for any other programs, but I have been unable to reach their director for 5 months.
On a personal note, the hardship of living in a home that cannot be cleaned has taken a significant toll on my husband and my mental health, is a perpetual financial strain, and we have not been able to have anyone visit our home. It has meant delaying all our life plans indefinitely, which is also difficult to process emotionally. Our physical health is affected due to the inability to maintain a sanitary environment. Our society puts so much emphasis on the individual to address their problems personally when for hundreds of years it was unheard of for one family to succeed without community help. I am embarrassed to say that my shame and my pride have prevented me from asking for help. Being denied assistance through financial institutions and grant programs has been disheartening. Feeling trapped by things out of my control with no other direction to pursue is gut-wrenching. I cannot see a path to success that doesn't include support from my community, so I am humbly asking for help. Thank you for helping as you can.
Gofundme: https://www.gofundme.com/f/all-i-want-for-christmas-is-floors
Other Payment Methods: paypal, venmo
Item help: Cleaning supplies, extraction chemicals, slab sealant, flooring
submitted by faenerysdorkborn to Assistance [link] [comments]
After consulting with professionals, we determined that the floor would need to be:
1) Treated with an enzyme cleaner, possibly more than once
2) Extracted with large equipment, which we will need to rent
3) Sealed by a professional to prevent any future damage to the slab
4) New flooring laid so it can be sanitized effectively at regular intervals.
I own my home outright, but neither my husband nor I have any credit. We have spoken with banks and lenders, but we do not qualify for any loans based on credit and do not have a co-signer that we could ask to sign with us. I have applied for grant funding through my city, but it's unlikely that we will be approved; I started a higher-paying job in June, and now my income is just above the threshold to qualify. I am working with their organization to see if we qualify for any other programs, but I have been unable to reach their director for 5 months.
On a personal note, the hardship of living in a home that cannot be cleaned has taken a significant toll on my husband and my mental health, is a perpetual financial strain, and we have not been able to have anyone visit our home. It has meant delaying all our life plans indefinitely, which is also difficult to process emotionally. Our physical health is affected due to the inability to maintain a sanitary environment. Our society puts so much emphasis on the individual to address their problems personally when for hundreds of years it was unheard of for one family to succeed without community help. I am embarrassed to say that my shame and my pride have prevented me from asking for help. Being denied assistance through financial institutions and grant programs has been disheartening. Feeling trapped by things out of my control with no other direction to pursue is gut-wrenching. I cannot see a path to success that doesn't include support from my community, so I am humbly asking for help. Thank you for helping as you can.
Gofundme: https://www.gofundme.com/f/all-i-want-for-christmas-is-floors
Other Payment Methods: paypal, venmo
Item help: Cleaning supplies, extraction chemicals, slab sealant, flooring
2023.03.30 16:57 No_Competition4897 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in TN Hiring Now!
2023.03.30 16:57 AshleighBSB [A Weekend at Munson Manor] - Episode 3: The Woman
![[A Weekend at Munson Manor] - Episode 3: The Woman](https://external-preview.redd.it/HSh6oMa5nVaD25NBlgiNU5Us9OWHCLOnUsMbv9sAOnA.jpg?width=320&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=9a7d4525ab05913b218e4f69e8c30e4085b60adb "[A Weekend at Munson Manor] - Episode 3: The Woman") | A Weekend at Munson Manor is an interactive Choose Your Own Path Mystery. Each episode, readers vote for the path they would like to take. Together, we will follow the path with the most votes. submitted by AshleighBSB to redditserials [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/zibnxwph4wqa1.jpg?width=157&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=117b9492365ade5c872c1b91a5da231df81416b2 To read the story so far, please start here. Obviously neither of these guests wish to speak with each other. Maybe you should break the uncomfortable silence. But to whom should you talk first?You move to the chair facing the woman, clearing your throat gently as you sit. She glares at you, but immediately relaxes her face and sends you a weak smile. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” “Hi. I’m Dr. Poole.” You extend a hand. She shakes it briefly. “Professor Mills.” “Ooh. Professor. That sounds interesting. What do you teach?” She bites her lip. “English. Oh, no, wait. History. That’s right. Medieval history.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had a chance to really absorb my character yet.” You give a small laugh. “That’s okay. That’s part of the fun of this weekend, isn’t it?” “Have you done a weekend like this before?” You shake your head. “No. This is my first time. But I love reading cozy mysteries. This sounded like a lot of fun.” The woman’s smile finally meets her eyes. “I love cozies, too. What’s your favorite?” Before you can answer, the man approaches with the glass in his hand. When he speaks, you can hear the disdain mixed with the alcohol. “Excuse me, but we are supposed to be in character.” Puzzled, you turn to him. “We are.” “No, you’re not.” The woman rolls her eyes. “Here we go again.” Ignoring her, he sends you a pointed look. “Cozy mysteries as a genre did not come about until the end of the twentieth century. As our characters are meant to be in the 1940s, we would have no knowledge of such books.” Smirking to yourself, you turn back to the woman. “Have you read The Time Machine by H. G. Wells? I think that would be so cool. I would go to the future to see what kinds of books people like to read.” The woman smiles. “I bet they get so frustrated with these new noir books that they try to get back to the golden age of Agatha Christie. I would call books like that cozy mysteries.” “You know what might be fun to read? Books that have dogs in them.” “Or maybe recipes!” With a hurrumph and a scowl, the man returns to beverage table. Professor Mills leans a little closer, lowering her voice. “Thank you. That man can be so insufferable.” “Do you know him?” She shakes her head. “Not really. We met upstairs. He calls himself Mr. Rollings. I think that’s his character name because when I tried to introduce myself, he went on this rant about staying in character. Thankfully, that butler guy. What’s his name?” “Charles?” She nods. “Yeah, him. He interrupted Rollings and sent us in here.” She gestured to you. “What about you? Are you a doctor in real life?” “Ugh. Seriously?” The man stomps back to you and the professor. “What part of stay in character is so difficult for you to understand? If you’re going to do this all weekend—” Professor Mills turns in her seat, but not before you catch the angry glare in her eyes. “Some of us want to know about the people we are living with this weekend. Not the make believe characters.” “But that defeats the point. Why bother being in character in the first place? If I wanted to tell you my personal life—” “Like anyone would want to know your personal life.” Letting out a huffy breath, Professor Mills turns around to face you. “So, you’re a doctor?” You nod. “A physicist at the university.” You look behind her. “What about you, Mr. Rollins. What do you do?” He frowns. “I’m a detective. Private investigator.” Professor Mills turns around just enough to see him out of the corner of her ye. “Oh. Are you going to investigate the crime tonight?” Tossing his hands in exasperation, he nearly spills his drink. “Insufferable.” The professor looks offended, but you want to laugh. Is she trying to irritate him? Or is she naturally this antagonistic? Since you can cut the tension in the air with a knife, you try for a neutral topic. “What did you think of your rooms?” Professor Mills brings her arms to her chest with a sound of excitement. “Ooh! Mine is so sweet! It has an adorable little fireplace. And all the pictures on the wall! I’m pretty sure its the local beach and it looks so inviting. That may be my next vacation.” Mr. Rollings grunts. “My room is full of portraits. It feels like I’m being watched.” “Maybe you are.” Thankfully, before another fight can erupt, a couple enters the room. Arms linked, they are obviously here together and, if their bright smiles are any indication, thoroughly enjoying themselves. As they stand in the doorway, you consider your options. Should you greet the newcomers, leaving the professor and detective to start snapping at each other again? Or should you wave politely and invite them to join your tense little circle?
|
2023.03.30 16:57 Winter-Ask-1681 Ice bath for noFap
Fellas, let me share a tool that has helped me on my journey: Deliberate Cold Exposure. (DCE)
DCE is a potent stimulus to our brain and body and is relevant to nofap in several ways.
I use my cold plunge every morning, first thing. Getting in 35-degreee water within minutes of waking up is the hardest thing I do each day. I dread it. But as soon it's done, I am 110% percent awake, and in a great mood for the rest of the day. Hard physical tasks, difficult or boring cognitive work, and resisting unhealthy temptations are much easier to conquer. And the good news is, the more you dread it, the bigger the benefits.
See the Huberman Lab episode on Deliberate Cold Exposure for a fascinating scientific breakdown.
Anyhow, I just had to share this incredible routine I recently discovered. It has been a massive help to me, and I hope it can be for you guys too. Stay strong fellas, much love.
submitted by Winter-Ask-1681 to NoFap [link] [comments]
DCE is a potent stimulus to our brain and body and is relevant to nofap in several ways.
- Massive increase in dopamine. A short ice bath can increase dopamine by 250% for many hours afterward. Unlike other sources of dopamine, there is no drop below baseline levels later. In fact, DCE has been used successfully to defeat addictions to cocaine. Fapping, like all addictions, is compulsive due primarily to dopamine. DCE is a reliable (and much longer lasting) source of dopamine and can help to break addictions.
- Increase in top-down control ie. "grit". Getting in the ice bath, and staying in, requires a massive amount of grit. Adrenaline and noradrenaline levels spike by 350% which means we are under incredible stress. DCE trains our ability to remain calm under stress in other areas of life, and use our pre-frontal cortex (top-down control) rather than succumb to our limbic system, which is screaming at us to exit ASAP. This translates to a greater ability to say no when every fiber of our being wants to fap.
- The general health benefits of DCE lead to a greater sense of well-being. There are a plethora of health benefits that come with this practice. Strong mental and physical health is a huge part of becoming a better man and defeating our vices. DCE helps with this.
I use my cold plunge every morning, first thing. Getting in 35-degreee water within minutes of waking up is the hardest thing I do each day. I dread it. But as soon it's done, I am 110% percent awake, and in a great mood for the rest of the day. Hard physical tasks, difficult or boring cognitive work, and resisting unhealthy temptations are much easier to conquer. And the good news is, the more you dread it, the bigger the benefits.
See the Huberman Lab episode on Deliberate Cold Exposure for a fascinating scientific breakdown.
Anyhow, I just had to share this incredible routine I recently discovered. It has been a massive help to me, and I hope it can be for you guys too. Stay strong fellas, much love.
2023.03.30 16:57 IustinianusBasileus Como carajo lo encuentran siempre?
 | submitted by IustinianusBasileus to Warhammer40kEsp [link] [comments] |
2023.03.30 16:57 thisisdeyear SEO genius marketing
 | submitted by thisisdeyear to Damnthatsinteresting [link] [comments] |
2023.03.30 16:56 AshleighBSB A Weekend at Munson Manor
 | A Weekend at Munson Manor is an interactive Choose Your Own Path Mystery. Each episode, readers vote for the path they would like to take. Together, we will follow the path with the most votes. submitted by AshleighBSB to AshleighStevens [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/pjhnhkw93wqa1.jpg?width=157&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=12466197cfac455decf33136c10b2a80788085b0 THE STORY SO FAR “Welcome to Munson Manor. May I take your coat?” Nodding, you remove your windbreaker. As you pass it to the butler, you can't help but feel underdressed in your jeans and sweater. The man before you is wearing a three-piece black suit with a matching tie. Unlike you, he looks like he stepped out of the 1940s. The butler drapes your jacket over his arm and gestures you inside. “Please come in. What is your name?” Out of habit, you almost respond with your real name. But just in time, you remember the information packet you received when you registered for this weekend. “Dr. Poole.” The butler nods. “Welcome, Doctor. My name is Charles. If you have any issues this weekend, do not hesitate to let me know. If you please, allow me to show you to your room.” But Charles isn’t really looking for your permission. He grabs your suitcase, extending the telescopic handle and dragging it into the hall. As you follow, you can’t help but admire your new surroundings. Late afternoon light shines through the stained glass windows on either side of the main entrance. The wooden floors are in a diagonal parquet style you only recognize because you saw it mentioned on a television show once. To your right is a heavy bench made of a dark wood. The back contains an intricate carving, but in your rush to keep up with the butler, you do not have time to discern the pattern. Paintings hang on burgundy walls with ornate walnut wainscotting. They look to be oil paintings, but you are no art connoisseur. All you know is that they are a mixture of landscapes and portraits. Doorways lead to several rooms, but the butler gives you no time to explore. You have just enough time to notice a grandfather clock on each side of the room before realizing the butler is already halfway up the stairs with velvet carpet the color of a fine merlot. You hurry to catch up, passing another grandfather clock on the landing. How many clocks does one mansion need? At the top of the stairs, the butler turns right into a hallway with white marble floors and three white doors. The one on your right is ajar. The butler pushes it open and gestures inside. “Your room, Dr. Poole.” Compared to the rest of the house, the room is small. A four-poster bed sits to the right and an oversized armchair to the left. Between them is a white door with frosted glass. Black and white photographs—again, a mixture of landscapes and portraits—cover the white walls. The wall to your right, facing the bed, contains a fireplace so small, you hardly noticed it. The wooden mantle and sides are painted the exact shade of the wall and the heart is so small, you wonder whether you will even be able to have a fire. Since there is no nearby woodpile, you assume not. On your left is a small wooden desk. The seat of the matching chair is a white fabric with a forest scene embroidered in red thread. The desk is bare except for a blue folder. The butler wheels your suitcase in front of an armoire behind you in the opposite corner of the room, gesturing to the closed doors. “You best get dressed. Dinner will be served at seven.” With a nod, he leaves, closing the door behind him. But you’re not ready to get dressed. You want to examine that folder on the desk. This is not a period piece. This folder is very modern. You use them all the time at work. The label on the front reads Dr. Poole. Curious, you take it to the bed. Inside are two pockets, but the sheet between them is loose. You read that first, but quickly realize it is the same letter you received in your registration email. A summary of the weekend and a reminder to remain in character at all times. The rest of the pages, you quickly realize, are more information about your character. You quickly learn that Dr. Poole is a physicist researching uses for x-rays beyond medical imaging. You work at a nearby university, but you have reached a stumbling block in your research. A weekend at the manor sounded like the perfect change of scene to clear your head. Now that you fully understand your character, it is time to get dressed. Moving aside your suitcase, you open the armoire to find several outfits. According to what you have just read, tonight’s supper is a formal affair, so you need to pick one of the fancy outfits. Which should you put on?
The silver dress shoes have a small heel, just within your comfort level. Frowning, you examine yourself in the mirror on the inside of the armoire door. Not bad. You definitely look like you belong in the 1940s. Time to see what your host has in store for you this weekend. You have no problem finding your way to the main hall, where the butler is standing idly. What was his name again? He bobs his head—somewhere between a nod and a bow—when he sees you. “Dr. Poole. You are all settled in?” “Yes. Thank you.” “Excellent. The others are in their rooms. Would you like to wait in the parlor?” He gestures to a room on your left. With a shrug, you turn into the room. Gold-framed portraits adorned rose walls with dark-red flowers adorning them. You aren’t positive, but it looks as if the walls may be covered in fabric instead of paper. Either way, they nearly match the drapes, all of which are open. White sheers filter in the last vestiges of daylight, adding to the light from the sconces on every wall and the glowing fireplace to your right. On the far wall a cherry wood table sits between two windows. Upon it rests an assortment of glass bottles in various shapes and sizes, each filled with a different color liquid. To your right, nestled between two more windows is a hutch of the same wood. A matching chair sits beside it, its embroidered seat containing the same pattern as the walls and drapes. To your left is a large wooden panel you assume is some type of sliding pocket door. On your right, two overstuffed powder-blue couches sit on an ornate Persian rug with two matching armchairs, all facing the fire. Without realizing it, you find yourself drifting into the room, drawn to the warmth of the fire. Unlike home, there are no electronics. No computer. No television. Not even a phone. Combined with your outfit, you truly feel as if you have stepped back in time. Hearing voices, you turn to the doorway. You cannot see anyone, but you can definitely hear two men talking. And one of them just uttered your name. Curious, you inch closer to the door, standing against the wall so no one will see you. “Yes, sir.” You recognize that voice. Isn’t that the butler whose name you keep forgetting? “Dr. Poole has arrived, changed, and is waiting in the parlor. Miss Lewis has yet to arrive. Everyone else is in their rooms.” “Very well. Let’s—” A buzzing sound interrupts the second man. Wordlessly, footsteps retreat—one set running, the other walking calmly. A moment later, you hear the front door open and a new exchange, this time between the butler and a woman. You hear him giving her much the same speech you received as he leads her up the stairs. As you return to the fireplace, you wonder who that second man in the hall was. If he was another guest, shouldn’t he have joined you in the parlor? And how did he know everyone’s name? Loud voices break your concentration. Two new voices, a man and a woman. You cannot hear the words. Are they arguing or just speaking in raised tones? The butler’s voice interrupts them. “Mr. Rollins. Professor Mills. Dinner will be served shortly. If you would be so kind, the rest of the guests are gathering in the parlor.” The man grunts something unintelligible, but the woman speaks. “Thank you, Charles.” A moment later, the pair enter the room. The middle-aged man is tall, but seems to be having trouble fitting into his gray tweed blazer and green herringbone trousers. His maroon tie has a navy zigzag running from his neck to where it disappears behind his jacket buttons. His scuffed shoes are the same dull brown as his unkempt hair. The slender woman behind him looks about the same age as the man. Her floor-length rose gown has a gathered bodice with thin shoulder straps and pleats beneath her waistline. Her short black hair curls tightly against her scowling face. Neither seem to notice you. The woman huffs to the nearest armchair, sitting with her arms and legs crossed and glaring at the floor. The man, meanwhile, goes straight to the table and examines the liquids. He lifts one, removes the top, and sniffs. With a shrug, he reaches for a rounded drinking glasses and pours three fingers of the amber liquid. After returning the bottle to the table, he steps to the nearby window. Obviously neither of these guests wish to speak with each other. Maybe you should break the uncomfortable silence. But to whom should you talk first?
|
2023.03.30 16:55 Consistent_Draft6927 Shriekers
I stared out into the gray of another bleak winter morning and found myself lacking once again. Slamming the door closed, I reluctantly resigned one more day to the coward's ash pile of which I was a regular contributor. All those fleeting moments, minutes, hours… years… All wasted under the perpetual fear of an unknown evil, all the while knowing that the weight of responsibility fell squarely on my head alone.
The very last one…
I hadn't left my house in weeks. Months, possibly. The passage of time had slowed to an agonizing crawl, giving the impression of far longer. The isolation had near driven me mad, my hands giving into shakes whenever I'd hear noise from outside. The only comfort I found was within my own reflection, the remaining evidence I had that I was still a human being.
"There's nothing left for me out there..." I affirmed in the mirror, my daily mantra, as if trying to convince someone other than myself.
"Nothing at all."
I peeked through the blinds and watched a former neighbor shuffle down the street in a monstrous, shambling gait. The mangled stump of its foot dragged listlessly behind as it sluggishly made its way round the bend into the next street and out of sight. They were everywhere, waiting and ready in the shadows where I couldn't see. Shrieking. Every night was the same. Their bizarre mating calls blared out into the otherwise dead twilight, rending me from any peaceful sleep I might have possibly enjoyed. It was blood-curdling, like they were being flayed alive… and yet still with something joyous and terrible simmering underneath. Their crying wails are one of ecstatic, starved hunger.
They called me mad when I began fortifying my home, all the locks and shutters. Well, who's mad now? The shriekers, that's who. Utterly insane, driven only by their base instincts and a desire to destroy and assimilate. They wish to take me as well. I was so afraid, but I knew what needed to be done from the very start. I had to go back outside.
I had to burn them in their nest.
Summoning up all the spine I could muster, I silently slipped out through the front door and over to the one across the street on that freezing dark night. I could hear them moving around inside, yelping and shrieking as always. A thick sliver of disgust overpowered the terror as my jittering hands fumbled with the lid on the petrol canister. I regained my composure as I focused on my mission, allowing the revulsion to drive me. It spun off, clanking against the cold metal body of its host noisily, I swallowed a lump in my throat, reassuring myself that I was still as of yet unseen.
I attached the plastic hose and the pungent liquid flowed freely through the thin metal letterbox. I made sure to be quick about it, one slip up and it'd all be over. They'd be on me like a pack of wild dogs to a feast. The canister ran dry, and so I pulled out the lighter. I flicked its ignition repeatedly before finally striking flame, and after one last frantic look around, in it went.
The house immediately erupted in flames and I retreated back to safety, desperate to get inside before the swarm arrived to salvage its sickening brood. I observed half in glee and half in a growing dread as the nest was engulfed. Then just as expected, they arrived. Their awful wailing tearing through the night. I shuddered as I closed the blinds, hoping this would at the very least thin out their numbers, if not force them to move on from the area entirely. How I longed for the day when I could venture out without fear of an attack… to rebuild, and to restock my ever dwindling supplies. The start of a whole new world, a better world… like the old one. My eyes began to close as I fell into a deep sleep, the shrieking outside now just a familiar white noise of sorts, lulling me.
I awoke to a loud banging on the front door. They'd found me. I loaded the cartridges into my revolver, rounds spilling to the floor from their box as I panicked. More banging, I couldn't ignore it this time. They were never going to move on. Not until they had me. I knew it in that moment, I wasn't going down without a fight.
Through the shuddering sight I stared down the barrel of the revolver as I descended the stairs, growing closer and closer. The rattling pounded its way throughout the house, each knock making me flinch and throwing off my aim. I fired three shots through the door. The knocking stopped, but they weren't done.
A while later, they returned. I could hear an immense growling emanating from the street outside and I took position, gun trained shakily on the entryway. But it was no use.
A blinding flash filled the room and I dropped my weapon after only one misguided discharge. I was rushed by the horde and was sent tumbling to the floor, screaming 'till the very last. I felt something sharp prick my neck, and all went dark.
That was some time ago. A long time ago. Many years in fact. I'm still in their cage, but they'll never get me. I won't fall for their tricks. They've taken the form of human beings, a sick mockery of their former lives as normal people, in their never ceasing attempts to assimilate me along with the pills and potions fuelling their petty illusions.
They tell me that I'm a murderer, that I'm 'very unwell'. That I'm in a hospital and that the 'doctors' are here to help me. They even dressed up one of their own as my brother, my fucking brother, who perished in the initial outbreak. Lies, all lies. They know that when I, the last one, am assimilated that they'll finally be able to cover the planet entirely.
They underestimate me though. My resolve is strong. And when I escape this place, I'll burn them as I find them until they are no more. Until not a single shrieking demon remains.
I'm not scared anymore...
submitted by Consistent_Draft6927 to creekyhours [link] [comments]
The very last one…
I hadn't left my house in weeks. Months, possibly. The passage of time had slowed to an agonizing crawl, giving the impression of far longer. The isolation had near driven me mad, my hands giving into shakes whenever I'd hear noise from outside. The only comfort I found was within my own reflection, the remaining evidence I had that I was still a human being.
"There's nothing left for me out there..." I affirmed in the mirror, my daily mantra, as if trying to convince someone other than myself.
"Nothing at all."
I peeked through the blinds and watched a former neighbor shuffle down the street in a monstrous, shambling gait. The mangled stump of its foot dragged listlessly behind as it sluggishly made its way round the bend into the next street and out of sight. They were everywhere, waiting and ready in the shadows where I couldn't see. Shrieking. Every night was the same. Their bizarre mating calls blared out into the otherwise dead twilight, rending me from any peaceful sleep I might have possibly enjoyed. It was blood-curdling, like they were being flayed alive… and yet still with something joyous and terrible simmering underneath. Their crying wails are one of ecstatic, starved hunger.
They called me mad when I began fortifying my home, all the locks and shutters. Well, who's mad now? The shriekers, that's who. Utterly insane, driven only by their base instincts and a desire to destroy and assimilate. They wish to take me as well. I was so afraid, but I knew what needed to be done from the very start. I had to go back outside.
I had to burn them in their nest.
Summoning up all the spine I could muster, I silently slipped out through the front door and over to the one across the street on that freezing dark night. I could hear them moving around inside, yelping and shrieking as always. A thick sliver of disgust overpowered the terror as my jittering hands fumbled with the lid on the petrol canister. I regained my composure as I focused on my mission, allowing the revulsion to drive me. It spun off, clanking against the cold metal body of its host noisily, I swallowed a lump in my throat, reassuring myself that I was still as of yet unseen.
I attached the plastic hose and the pungent liquid flowed freely through the thin metal letterbox. I made sure to be quick about it, one slip up and it'd all be over. They'd be on me like a pack of wild dogs to a feast. The canister ran dry, and so I pulled out the lighter. I flicked its ignition repeatedly before finally striking flame, and after one last frantic look around, in it went.
The house immediately erupted in flames and I retreated back to safety, desperate to get inside before the swarm arrived to salvage its sickening brood. I observed half in glee and half in a growing dread as the nest was engulfed. Then just as expected, they arrived. Their awful wailing tearing through the night. I shuddered as I closed the blinds, hoping this would at the very least thin out their numbers, if not force them to move on from the area entirely. How I longed for the day when I could venture out without fear of an attack… to rebuild, and to restock my ever dwindling supplies. The start of a whole new world, a better world… like the old one. My eyes began to close as I fell into a deep sleep, the shrieking outside now just a familiar white noise of sorts, lulling me.
I awoke to a loud banging on the front door. They'd found me. I loaded the cartridges into my revolver, rounds spilling to the floor from their box as I panicked. More banging, I couldn't ignore it this time. They were never going to move on. Not until they had me. I knew it in that moment, I wasn't going down without a fight.
Through the shuddering sight I stared down the barrel of the revolver as I descended the stairs, growing closer and closer. The rattling pounded its way throughout the house, each knock making me flinch and throwing off my aim. I fired three shots through the door. The knocking stopped, but they weren't done.
A while later, they returned. I could hear an immense growling emanating from the street outside and I took position, gun trained shakily on the entryway. But it was no use.
A blinding flash filled the room and I dropped my weapon after only one misguided discharge. I was rushed by the horde and was sent tumbling to the floor, screaming 'till the very last. I felt something sharp prick my neck, and all went dark.
That was some time ago. A long time ago. Many years in fact. I'm still in their cage, but they'll never get me. I won't fall for their tricks. They've taken the form of human beings, a sick mockery of their former lives as normal people, in their never ceasing attempts to assimilate me along with the pills and potions fuelling their petty illusions.
They tell me that I'm a murderer, that I'm 'very unwell'. That I'm in a hospital and that the 'doctors' are here to help me. They even dressed up one of their own as my brother, my fucking brother, who perished in the initial outbreak. Lies, all lies. They know that when I, the last one, am assimilated that they'll finally be able to cover the planet entirely.
They underestimate me though. My resolve is strong. And when I escape this place, I'll burn them as I find them until they are no more. Until not a single shrieking demon remains.
I'm not scared anymore...
2023.03.30 16:55 quickcleaningIL The key to success in your business: a spotless office thanks to cleaning services in Chicago
 | Looking for the key to success in your business? We know that maintaining a spotless office can be a real challenge, especially if you have a busy business in the bustling city of Chicago. But don't worry, we have the perfect solution for you! submitted by quickcleaningIL to u/quickcleaningIL [link] [comments] At Quick Cleaning, we offer top-quality chicago office cleaning service that ensure your office always looks spotless. We take care of every detail, from cleaning bathrooms to removing dust and dirt from desks and surfaces. Our highly trained and experienced cleaning team uses the latest cleaning techniques and equipment to ensure your workspace looks and feels its best. Whether you need daily, weekly or monthly cleaning, we can accommodate your needs and budget. We understand that your time is valuable, which is why we make sure we work efficiently and effectively to minimize any disruption to your business. All of our cleaning products are environmentally friendly and safe for the environment and your staff. Quick Cleaning Chicago So what are you waiting for? Let Quick Cleaning take care of your office cleaning and experience the difference we can make in the success of your business. We are the best office cleaning service near me! Contact us today at 1-773-800-2524 for a free customized estimate. Don't wait any longer to have a spotless and successful office! |
2023.03.30 16:54 KrinnReaper Advice On Pricing Originals
Hi!
I need some advice on how much to sell original artworks as I have my first real buyer. I have sold art before but it was a long time ago and I didn't spend nearly as much time on them. I was told that typically you add the price of materials + hrs + 30% and you'll get the right price. The two works that they are interested in came up to $70 for a 9x9 poster board painting, and $290 for a 24x36 oil on canvas painting. The prices are in Canadian dollars but it seems like a lot to me. Are these reasonable prices for originals that don't have any other copies of them made?
submitted by KrinnReaper to artbusiness [link] [comments]
I need some advice on how much to sell original artworks as I have my first real buyer. I have sold art before but it was a long time ago and I didn't spend nearly as much time on them. I was told that typically you add the price of materials + hrs + 30% and you'll get the right price. The two works that they are interested in came up to $70 for a 9x9 poster board painting, and $290 for a 24x36 oil on canvas painting. The prices are in Canadian dollars but it seems like a lot to me. Are these reasonable prices for originals that don't have any other copies of them made?
2023.03.30 16:53 Longjumping-Jelly-14 I’m thinking about what games I want to do over spring break
I have about 10 days on my break so I’ll have a little more time to play some games. I can’t figure out what games to do though. Part of me is gearing towards finishing the DLC for dragon age origins since I’ve never done those and then buying dragon age 2 at a flea market near me. Part of me is debating god of war 2018 and ragnarok or last of us 1 and 2. Are there any suggestions y’all have? I want to make sure I choose the right game
submitted by Longjumping-Jelly-14 to playstation [link] [comments]
2023.03.30 16:52 passbroshop Interesting AK build question
I have two receiver flats that I can’t do anything with now that I can’t “manufacture” an “assault weapon”.
However, I also have a nearly complete Childers receiver. It’s complete enough that I had to FFL and 4473 it though it’s gutted and not populated.
This bare receiver is legally a pre ban firearm, so completing it isn’t manufacturing. Is there anything stopping me? I can’t get 30rd AK mags yes, but is there anything stopping me from getting a threaded AK barrel? A trunnion? A flash hider? The “firearm” itself predates the ban. What can and can’t I order to complete it?
Not a legal question, more so asking if anyone has interpreted the new law as “No, you can’t order a slant muzzle brake now”.
submitted by passbroshop to ILGuns [link] [comments]
However, I also have a nearly complete Childers receiver. It’s complete enough that I had to FFL and 4473 it though it’s gutted and not populated.
This bare receiver is legally a pre ban firearm, so completing it isn’t manufacturing. Is there anything stopping me? I can’t get 30rd AK mags yes, but is there anything stopping me from getting a threaded AK barrel? A trunnion? A flash hider? The “firearm” itself predates the ban. What can and can’t I order to complete it?
Not a legal question, more so asking if anyone has interpreted the new law as “No, you can’t order a slant muzzle brake now”.
2023.03.30 16:51 xiomuya Update
 | A little late, but here's an update on my wonky hairline case: submitted by xiomuya to u/xiomuya [link] [comments] I certainly don't want a very symmetrical hairline but the initial hairline was extremely asymmetrical. So, on the 10th day after my HT I went back to my doctor for a check-up. Everything looked well. However, she agreed that the hairline was too asymmetrical, hence they immediately performed a second HT of 200 grafts to correct it. Note: yes, experiencing the HT pain for the second time in 10 days nearly killed me 🥲 |
2023.03.30 16:50 9Joker90 Question about crows
Hello, I’ve had this crow coming nearly daily to my porch and cawing for a few minutes till I go out there and shoo it away. I also had one cawing at me when I was playing sports a few days ago. Any reason for this? I’ve heard crows signal death so I’m slightly worried lol
submitted by 9Joker90 to crows [link] [comments]