How to get urine smell out of mattress borax

Morrigan went to join her lily in her room, joining her apothecary in the making of their garden. She hoped it would calm her down, she hoped that she could smell that sweet smell again, she hoped that she could show her traitor son that he was wrong. She would show him that he was wrong, even if she had no idea how to garden.
Morrigan spent a lot of time working on the garden with her lily and apothecary, often without her armor. She wasn't sure how she would feel outside of her armor in the presence of another, but she grew to appreciate the opportunity. She noticed that the apothecary wore their mask less often around her, and even offered to help her with gardening. Morrigan refused, stubbornly insisting that she could do it herself, even though she was having no success whatsoever. However, even though she found the experience of gardening to be incredibly frustrating, it was also calming in a sense. The apothecary found this stubborn determination adorable in a sense. They had figured out what kind of flowers their lady liked and grew the ones that they liked best. It helped with their lady's unique smell, even though they had gotten somewhat used to it by now. They even started making perfumes, leaving them in their lady’s room without her knowledge. Morrigan loved the perfumes she knew her lily had made, but didnt say anything in case her apothecary would find out she actually liked them.
After much time and hard work, Morrigan finally got her first flower to bloom. It was a white lily, which she placed gently in the apothecary room, as a token. The apothecary found it rather touching, pinning their lady’s flower to their breast pocket, so they could carry it wherever they go.
The Primarch’s room would soon become a beautiful green space, so much so that Morrigan would often take off her mask when she was alone to smell the flowers and experience the work she and her lily had done. One day, while her lily was gardening, she handed them a new set of orders stating they would be moving into the room to better take care of the garden. The apothecary nodded, and moved their stuff into the garden, before returning to their work. They noticed that Morrigan didn't wear her mask anymore, and she never wore her armor in the garden. They didn’t ask their lady about it; they simply appreciated the trust.
Morrigan started bringing her Lily out of the garden more often, taking them on campaigns, to meetings and the like. Her sons questioned her intentions of bringing an apothecary during discussions of military matters.
“Mother, is it strictly necessary for the apothecary to be here? They have no training in the art of war, and they are not participating in the combat on the surface. I think it would be bes….”
Morrigan stared daggers at her son, her mask hiding the anger in her face. “The apothecary will stay. This way they can best prepare for the incoming casualties. That is final. Now let us continue planning the assault.” The apothecary smiled beneath their mask but made sure that this would be evident to their lady’s sons. They judged it would be best to not antagonize them.
After several successful campaigns, the Endurance once again returned to Barbaros, though as they arrived, they were greeted by another ship orbiting the planet. That ship was the Photep, flagship of Morrigan’s sister Magnolia. Morrigan had her vox master send a vox to her sister’s ship.
“Sister, what brings you here?” Morrigan said, questioning the intentions of her sister. She knew that Magnolia would not be here for a simple social call. She was here for something, probably knowledge.
“Sister! I am simply here to pay you a visit. I’ll arrive shortly.” Then the vox cut.
Morrigan gripped her scythe angrily. ‘That bitch’ she thought, ‘inviting herself, ignoring my questions. I’ll show her arrogant ass what for.’ She turned to her lily, her anger fading somewhat at the sight of her flower still pinned to her lily’s chest. “Apothecary, come with me. My sister may need some ‘assistance’ after I’m done with her.” Lily nodded, following quickly at the side of their lady as they made their way to the hangar.
Magnolia’s Stormhawk landed shortly after Morrigan and her Lily arrived in the hangar. Magnolia stepped out alone, a group of her sons waiting behind on the Stormhawk. Magnolia’s eyes were immediately drawn to the powerful psychic energy coming from the apothecary next to her sister. Lily could feel a strong probing psychic force in their mind, searching for information. Lily could also feel their lady’s anger and burning hatred. They gently placed their hand on Morrigan’s, before returning their hand to their side. Morrigan was shaken by this simple act, but she decided she would deal with it later. First, she needed to handle her sister.
Magnolia greeted her sister with a smile and gestured to the apothecary to Morrigan’s side. “Sister, what a lovely little psyker you have there. Have you finally changed your mind?” Magnolia said smugly.
Morrigan advanced upon Magnolia, ready to behead her sister for her insolence and arrogance. But once again, her Lily placed their hand upon hers. She knew it would be best to ensure they did not get hurt. “My Lily…!” Morrigan's voice, once angry, was now caught in her throat. Had she said it out loud. “Ahem, my apothecary is not a psyker. They are simply a talented apothecary, not a sorcerer like you. Perhaps your sorcery is failing you sister? Perhaps you could still see properly if you had both of your eyes.” She spat, her mask expelling gas in powerful blasts of anger. “If you have a purpose for your visit, state it. Otherwise get off my ship and return to your librarium sister.”
Magnolia, now frustrated, turned and left. “Your ignorance will bite you one day sister, that I assure you.” She said before her Stormhawk returned to her ship. She would find the knowledge she was looking for another way. Barbarus surely had knowledge that she could make great use of. She would just have to try and get it some other way.
Morrigan looked down at their Lily. They had held their hand the whole time, and it almost brought a smile to Morrigan’s face. “Let us return to our duties.” She said, letting go of her lily’s hand, and walked with them back to the garden. Morrigan couldn’t quite understand what emotions were going through her mind, so she focused on cultivating her plants, keeping her mind away from what she went through.
Nurgle was watching the two, smiling uglily. His plan would be put into place soon. Soon he would have the Primarch in his grips. He just needed to give her a little bit of a push. Targeting her apothecary would be of great benefit…

Live in an apartment in Seattle. Upstairs pipe broke in the end of March. The landlord fixed the broken pipe one week later. However, they did not vent the ceiling drywall well before seal the ceiling. The drywall was wet for almost a month (moisture level > 25%, while the normal level should be <12%). There had been intolerable musty smell since I found the ceiling leak. I guess the smell comes from mold in between drywalls. They drilled holes to ventilate after my complaints and the moisture of the drywall is normal now.
I'm worried about the mold and wanted to move out. I'm currently on monthly lease, which gives me flexibility. However, after searching for a new place in the 3 weeks, I cannot find a better one than my current place: the options are either expensive, noisy or at the basement. If it wasn't the concern about the mold,
Things make me want to leave:

1. Potential mold growth
   1. There was a musty smell when the ceiling leak started. The smell was still strong when the landlord drilled holes on the ceiling to ventilate 3 weeks after the pipe was fixed.
   2. I used home mold test kit to test the airborne mold. It's positive. (How accurate is it? Based on some search, it seems those kits are not accurate?)

Things make me incline to stay and see:

1. Cannot find a better place than my current one
2. Mold growth is no visible and the smell seems to disappear, almost(?)
   1. No mold allergic symptoms for now. However, I have been out of town and I've only stayed at my unit for 2 weeks consecutively after the ceiling leak. Mold impact probably takes longer to observe.
   2. The ceiling drywall seems to be dry now after ventilation. They sprayed some Clorox / mold killer before sealing the ceiling.
3. On monthly lease. Probably have the flexibility to stay and move when I see mold infection symptoms? But I'm afraid the health impact of mold would be irreversible.

So I started wondering, how dangerous is my current apartment due to mold? Is it better to stay rather than move? How can I do to assure myself my unit is ok / not ok to stay? Washington only requires landlord to fix the root cause of ceiling leak but does not ask landlord to inspect / address the mold (reference). Is mold inspection reliable and worth it and should I get one?

SABOTAGE?! And it all started out as such a nice idea… A cliche as tall as my ex-roommate’s erection live-blending Kelly Bundy Mike Kelley and Ted Bundy parafernalia wearing blondes to the sound of gekko’s mating in the Amazon. Cut the bullshit! There’s no such thing as a nice idea getting detourné by some smart art postpostsituationist pranker or right-wing gaswhitey flexfrat, no, my dear well-meaning peace dove friends, if an idea can gets turned into its opposite during its execution, it probably was flawed from the start! Sometimes people use Woodstock 99 - the limp dickshit rape and pillage slash and burn disaster edition - as an example of how a great, positive, wonderful, hell, holy idea can turn into the worst kind of evil in the hands of the wrong people. Well, dear naivopino’s, let me inform you: bull-shit! The whole idea of Woodstock, be it ’99, ’94, ’69 or 2219, is just batshit dumbwhat asking for the baddest kind of trouble right from the bat. Or, what? Do you honest-to-dogly think that during the original (I retrovulsely puke into my stomach even using that wretched word) edition of 1969 nothing was burned, stolen, no women were raped? What, just because there were no sperm dna tests, nigh to none options for women to speak up against sexual violence let alone the fact that speaking up against rape during that whole shitshebang of a weak acid trip’s campfire get-together was near to blasphemy in the hippie community means that no women were raped? Because men all of a sudden turned into meek little dickies lambs for three years from 1968 to ’71? Fuck that shit. Please. I don’t even want to spend a single move of a single digit of my old hands having to make anything about that largest circle jerk-off in history clear to you. Read your books. Do your homework. Anyway, that’s what I was thinking about when a friend told me recently about another of those so-called great ideas gone hilariously wrong in a little map smudge of a town in of all fucking places Belgium for chrissakes. Let me admit to you, right here and now, no smirk no smile on my face: I laughed so hard when I heard it I shat my new Calvins. Framed them afterwards, too, in a nice little Nielsen A2 birch. It’s sitting there, stinking the fuck out of my storage, waiting for a good stock market crash to come. Never underestimate the potential of the future art market gold rushes. My shit, my gold, bruv. So, these two clowns of artists in Belgium (are there any other there? don’t get me started on rené ma bite or marcel bread arse here!) had the ammazing idea to get themselves funded by the local government in this hamlet of three houses called Watou which apparently would be part of - ok, stop me here. Not in the history of mankind has ever ended a sentence well which tried to explain any aspect of Belgian politics, topography or whatever the call the thing there where a man rides a horse stark naked and bites the neck of living goose hanging from a tree? (See, that sentence didn’t end well either, did it, what’d I tell you? Cursed stuff!) Let’s try that again: two artists in the Belgian town of Watou had the splendid idea to organize a festive event, in the middle of summer, whereby all the people of this little village (if you’re thinking of blue skinned vikings charging Roman legionnaires in a berry-induced bad trip frenzy, well, so am I) for one day left their houses, dropped the key of their house in a transparant bowl on the town square and all went to the field adjacent to their village to well be (as in: not fornicate) together and thereby, if I had a press release I’d quote this from it: practiced a performative experiment in hospitality and neighborship where no fixed rules are applied. I’m guessing if you’re sensitive like I am to the finer things a life, you might as well start looking for your nearest Nielsen frame too by now, but hey: we haven’t even gotten to the joke yet! This was all the serious stuff. Let me summarise it even more briefly for you, just to get it out of my haemorrhoidical system: Imagine a village. Everyone leaves their house at the same time. Leaves their front door open. Drops the key to said door in a large bowl. Drifts into a field somewhere off to do fripp knows what (no rules applied, but probably: no fornication whatsoever.) Got the mental image? Good. Now get the fuck out of that dream and imagine any sad little teardrop of a town you know. Imagine who lives there. Imagine all the people you know who live in a town, or rather, fuck that, imagine all the people you know. Now imagine that some dogoodydoodydoobywah wants to “bring the people together again” and “mend the social bonds which had been broken by” yaddah yaddah yaddah. Okay? Now imagine the fucking assholes - they might even be you - who get they absolute mostest pleasure out of ruining the naive, well-intentioned ideas of others? You see what I see? The doodygoodoo is a bit all alone on his white ivory hilltowertop, right? All the others apparently prefer to start mayhem, to jinx other people’s efforts, to laugh - loud! - at their friends tripping over their own feet. No? You think in your ‘reality’ people are ‘decent’ and ‘rough diamonds’ or ‘deeper than you’d think they are’? Well, my dear, that paradisiacal odor you’re smelling all around you is the smell of your own shit cause you got your head up your ass! Listen and suffer! Because what happened in our not-just-proverbial Belgian village on that sunny morning in July… a couple of the townspeople - we’ll never know how many but I’m guessing almost everyone except for the government-funded, from-the-city hippie artists was in on the joke - had invited some acquaintances from the town next door to quietly enter the village while everyone was not-fornicating on the idyllic field, to take all the keys from the bowl, lay them on the train tracks which run along the town, flattening them to perfectly unusable little steel flabs and placing them back in the bowl. So when our supposedly resocialised townspeople entered their village that afternoon, ready to get their key, run to their house and close their door for at least the next 364 days, the immediately realised they couldn’t close their doors anymore. Total mayhem ensued. Men started chasing women, people pillaged their neighbours houses, children and adults alike pooped on all toothbrushes they could find, underwear was thrown into compost heaps, compost heaps were thrown into unlawful indoor spas, hundred thousands of untaxed euro piles were find inside old televisions and grandmas paintings. There was no stopping them. Housewifes hung themselves after their portrait, tits out and all, was found hanging above at least three beds in different houses. It was bad. Real bad. By the time news of this feast of anarchy and murder had spread to the nearest villages and the police arrived, the artists had of course long disappeared, no doubt to narrativise their failure into a story of experiment and learning and cash in a couple of fat pay checks.
And you know what the name was the artists had given their beautiful day of harmony and collective connecting: Open Doors Day. They sure got it, their open doors day, they sure got it. Serves them right. Serves them damn right.
peace - out!

Could this be kidney stones?
Female, 40s - In pain while waiting to hear next steps from PCP. I received test results last night (see end of post), but PCP has not actually viewed them yet. Feel like I should be doing something but no idea what.
Summary of pain: Friday night felt achey gnawing pain under left ribs that radiated to left shoulder and down left arm. Assumed it was trapped gas after very heavy meal.
The pain was unchanged in the morning so took Gas-X. Eventually maxed out the recommend daily dose. Did lots of burping, but never experienced any relief of pain.
By Saturday afternoon pain was more focused under left rib cage, with flank pain and some tenderness to left of belly button. Periods of INTENSE spasms in upper left abdomen began. Felt like a squeezing and releasing in intestine but no idea what was actually happening. Painful spasms overwhelmed me with every attempt to get a good breath. The pain was SEVERE, the worst I’ve ever felt. I was screaming and begging for help during these episodes, which lasted about 5 minutes each.
This happened three times over a few hours, and each time I seriously considered calling an ambulance but didn’t because of fear of cost and that it would be determined to be “just gas.”
The underlying pain through all of this was constant. By Sunday morning I could no longer take a deep breath due to the severity of constant pain under left ribs, but the spasms didn’t return.
No appetite since Friday, but tried eating a bland meal Sunday evening. Drinking water after meal produced sudden intense pain and feeling of food moving in upper left abdomen. Thought maybe there was a blockage that was clearing. Wondering now if something was just inflamed. Pain only lasted a few seconds and was enough to make me gasp.
Bowel movements small and poorly formed throughout all this. Frequent urgent watery diarrhea started 3am Monday. I went to the doctor on Monday.
It’s now Tuesday, and I am still in terrible pain under my left ribs and into my left side. Cramping sensation with every shallow breath. Sneezing feels like something is tearing. I can’t even complete the sneeze without shouting from the pain. I can’t get a deep breath or cough without triggering sharp pain.
Experiencing occasional involuntary gasps, much like when you take shaky breaths while crying.
Blood oxygen is normal.
Possibly relevant: Two days before this began, I felt intense pulling and cramping in bladder. This came and went along with frequent urination (which exacerbated pain) for a few hours and then it was gone.
No fever. No vomiting. No history of health anxiety or emetephobia, but if I were to need to vomit at this point, I don’t know how I could with current pain level and the way it intensifies with deep breath or exertion. I am frightened.
Summary of doctor’s visit and tests:
Saw primary care doctor yesterday for physical exam. They ordered a urine test, upper left abdominal x-ray, and left lung x-ray.
Results:
ABDOMEN RADIOGRAPHY CLINICAL HISTORY: Acute onset LUQ pain 5/10, still persistant with loose stools, but no fever or vomiting. TECHNIQUE: 1 view. FINDINGS: Bowel Gas Pattern: Within normal limits. No dilated loops.
CHEST RADIOGRAPHY CLINICAL HISTORY: LUQ pain and decreased breath sounds at L lung base Left upper quadrant pain Other abnormalities of breathing. TECHNIQUE: 2 views. FINDINGS: Lungs/Pleura: Minimal left basilar parenchymal opacity. No pneumothorax or significant effusion. Mediastinum: Heart and mediastinal contours are unremarkable.
Urine (Urine, Clean Catch)
Color value: orange Clarity value: turbid pH: 5.5 Specific gravity: 1.019 Protein value: trace Blood value: 2+ Red blood cells value: 3-5 Bacteria value: few Mucus value: 2+ Amorphous crystals value: 2

If you're not going to give me tips on how to force my son out of diapers don't comment. I won't acknowledge you or read your post. I know everyone says I can't or shouldn't force this issue, but I honestly do not care. I'm going to do it, so for my son's sake, provide your tips if you have any. My son is 3. He's been talking about the potty pee pee and poo poo sonce he was 1.5. He was peeing in the potty and occasionally pooing. Suddenly, he decided he didn't want to do it anymore and now insists that he wears diapers (around 2.5). I conceded. I allowed him to wear diapers and stopped talking about the potty for a few months. But now, he's 3 and still refuses to talk about it. He knows when he's going. He will stand there and hold himself and I will take him to the potty, and he won't go, but literally the second I take him off the potty he'll go on the floor. No matter how long he sits there. He purposely holds it so he doesn't "have" to use the potty. I make him clean up his messes. He hates that. He cries and screams and says no no no! Poo is yucky. I say yes, it is, and to not have to clean up a mess, all you have to do is go in the potty! In a cheery voice. This has happened over and over and over and over and over and over.
I am done.
I have been gentle and calm and caring. No more. I told him yesterday he's not wearing diapers anymore, except when he sleeps. He got mad and said he needed his diaper but I said no. I said you have 2 options. 1. Go to the potty 2. Clean up your mess
Now he's on the porch crying because he peed his pants and I still refused to put a diaper on him. I genuinely cannot do this anymore. I am a germaphobe and have done REALLY well will all his excrement. Now his poops are adult size and smell and I'm done. My son is #1 in every single factor of my life, but this, this is where mommy gets to look out for HER mental health and put her needs first, just this once.

I’m currently 5 weeks and 3 days pregnant and we found out last week. Over the weekend I had very faint spotting which everyone assured me was normal, since it’s light light pink and only sometimes when I wiped. I may have been obsessive in watching because it’s our first pregnancy and we’ve tried for 12 years for this. Yesterday I had bright red blood with some clots. They weren’t huge, the blood was only when I wiped and my urine was tinted red with blood. I had no cramping, I wasn’t bleeding out into my underwear. And it was only for like 20 minutes. My doctor had me go in for an HCG level and I go back for another tomorrow to get an answer. I know it’s not horribly long to wait but I can’t stop thinking of what if the baby is gone and over analyzing everything. So many things say different “facts” like once a miscarriage happens you won’t feel pregnancy symptoms anymore and another article says you will. So still be slightly nauseous as I was before and my boobs still hurting idk if is good or not, i don’t if the articles should be used to give me hope, but I just don’t know how not to feel devastated before even getting the results of the blood work.

Normally I don’t criticize people for hanging out in a pigsty, since that is their life to do with, but when I’m constantly being asked to help them clean up their mess ahead of a social event then it’s where this becomes a pet peeve of mine. There’s quite a bit to unpack here, so enjoy me ranting about my pet peeve!
This person of concern is a family member, they have what they call their “man cave” where he likes to host parties…
The problem is always that he will wait until the last minute to take care of the growing mess of clutter, and by then he feels so overwhelmed that he will recruit me and others to help tackle his mess… that he made.
So he will push a broom around for a little bit, only to complain that his back hurts, and then he goes and sits on the couch to watch TV or watch the rest of us busting our butts for him.
His clutter is mainly plates and silverware in the sink, which yes they do smell terrible, and he tends to put items on the table or countertops where they don’t belong (I.e. his work gloves on countertops, hoodies on the table). About the dishes in the sink, he also just tosses plastic spoons in there after he makes coffee… just, why, dude? Use the spoon again for a scooper- put it in your coffee grounds at least, or throw them in the garbage.
You can remind him all day that he needs to stay on top of the cleaning, but that never works, he will just let the clutter pile up. Therefore the cycle eventually continues.
The worst of it all is he ignores taking the trash out regularly, and will instead just let that also pile up when the bins are obviously filled to the brim. Because the trash involves discarded food and drink, he gets a bunch of pecker gnats and even maggots living in the trash bins.
So yea, as you could probably guess, I’ve tried to drill it into his head that he needs to stay on top of the cleaning- which doesn’t work at all. Be as straightforward with him as you want, it’s not going to work.
Some of the people he would recruit to help clean his man cave won’t do it anymore, and it’s definitely understandable, why even bother when it’s going to be a pit in just 10 days again? My wife has given up on helping out for that very reason.
I’ve been tempted to tell him that I’m done helping out with cleaning up after him, but I also understand how happy he gets for throwing social gatherings, but if you want your space to be a cool little hangout area for everyone at any given moment IT HAS TO STAY CLEAN! show some pride in your man cave by keeping it clean!

hello, our names are evie and maisie and a few years ago something happened that put us off leaving the house at night forever.
we had just got off school for the spring break and back then we used to smoke every so often and decided that weekend we’d start the holidays off by doing so. what would usually happen is we would usually sleep at maisie’s house (she lives in the outskirts of town so there’s many little places we could go to smoke) wait until her parents fell asleep and sneak out.
that weekend, after her parents had fallen asleep around midnight, we had just left the house and everything seemed normal. on the way to our usual spot, we would pass the red telephone box which no one ever seemed to use. it was old looking. the paint was chipped and the phone was surrounded with spider webs and was presumed to be broken.
we past it and everything was fine, we smoked as usual and started to take a slow walk back to maisie’s house. on the way back, we got to the telephone box and from outside we could hear it start to ring. it made us jump, and in the moment we found it funny because of how scared and high we were. but, we carried on walking.
as we started to get further away from it, maisie’s phone started to ring. our first thought was that it was her parents who had woken up and seen we were missing. she pulled the phone out of her pocket. but it was an unrecognisable number. we wanted to answer just in case it was her parents and it was probably best to answer then make them worry. however, we answered the phone to a piercingly loud static sound coming from the other end. We hung up the phone almost instantly as we just thought it was a spam caller or something
then, my phone rang. I answered it to the same static noise that had rang maisie’s phone before. i have no idea why we did this to this day as it truly makes no sense but our first thought was the telephone box. maybe it was how high we were or the fact we had heard it ring before or maybe even just how immature we were at 14, we decided to go back to it.
we started walking back to the box slightly more weary of our surroundings. as we got closer we noticed a man standing inside of it, and as the town was quite small we knew everyone but that man unrecognisable. he had the phone to his ear and he was facing away from us typing a number into the keypad, it was my number. my phone started to blast out my usual loud ringtone and i scrambled to quickly turn it off but it was to late. he already heard. the man quickly spun round and held eye contact with us for what felt like an eternity.
his face was inhuman, his eyes where scarily wide with large rings surrounding them. he was tall, almost as tall as the box itself, which was around 6’5. when he looked at us his mouth curved up into a huge grin. he stepped out of the box and started sprinting towards us at a speed i can’t explain. we looked at eachother and then ran for our lives. we didn’t turn back.
we eventually got back to maisie’s and locked both of the doors and ran upstairs into her parents ( forgetting that we where even high ) and explained everything, of course missing the fact we had smoked. after we had explained they looked out the window without saying anything and stared at us like we where crazy. maisie’s mum said ‘your high, aren’t you?’ we both panicked and denied it unaware of the smell we must have brought in. i think the fact we where high made her parents not believe us because they just brushed it off like it was nothing and told us to get out and go to sleep. we decided to leave it there and go to sleep getting ready face the consequences of being caught.
the next morning we woke up and i checked my phone to see a text from my mum explaining how dissapointed she was and about 50 missed calls from the same number. i showed maisie the number and her face dropped, she had gotten the same amount from the same number to. it was the number we where called on last night. the telephone box. we never walked past the telephone box again.
sitting here a few years from then we still don’t know if what we saw was real. has anyone else seen anything like this whilst high so we can finally get closure on the experience?

hey all! so normally my cat dahlia will sleep with me in my bed and she absolutely LOVESSS looking out the window that’s at the foot of my bed. this has happened since she was born. but the last 2 nights she’s been in her brand new cat tree (this may be important). suddenly today when i woke up for work she seemed to be behaving strangely, so i picked her up for a quick pre-work cuddle in case i had just not been giving her enough attention (she’s the type to let you know) and she ripped me to shreds just to get out of my arms!! absolutely refuses to get on the bed and the window is even worse. i’ve tried coaxing her with treats and some “exposure therapy” (i hold her and pet her and assure her while she stands petrified on the bed) but i don’t want to make her hate it even worse. this is a COMPLETE 180 from her usual self, she’s usually fighting to get me off her so she can go to her window, not the other way around :(
when i put together the cat tree i had to clear out a corner of my room that had been untouched for a while and moved some plushies to the side of my bed (near the window). that corner had previously housed a not-neutered tomcat about 6 years ago, so my working theory is his spray/smell is still on the items from that corner that are now being housed on the bed and by the window. but how do i make it where she’s comfortable to come back? there’s no physical smell to any of it but there’s no way things can be put back where they were originally, so i’m just at a loss. i don’t want her to lose her favourite thing and i don’t want to lose my cuddle buddy :(
pics of her how she normally is, cuddly and sweet on the bed + what she did this morning bc she was so scared of the bed

The builder in the beginning said the cables are in I just need to make a contract.
I spent hours on trying to figure out which provider would be able to provide internet access to the property. No provider is able to do so, and I called up each individual service providers that are live in the address based on bidb.uk.
OpenReach/BT was the only one who gave mixed signals - over the phone they said there are no cables are alive at the address, over email they said: I have looked into the case and can see that this property will be connected to our ultrafast fibre broadband network.
After raising this to the seller, he now said that only the ducting is in, and there is an agreement with BT but it will be my responsibility to get the cables set up, and arrange a contract with them after exchange of contracts.
It smells bullcrap, but it may be a standard practice for new builds. Either way, how long does it usually take to get actual internet to the property if there are no cables set up, and do I have to pay for getting the cables set up?

TL;DR normally pee 20-40 times a day, can barely get anything out now. Have bladder wall thickening and bladder cyst consistent with urachal remnant.
Hi
25F 130lbs 5’10” no tobacco, MMJ user, Dx bladder partially cystic mural nodularity on the anterior midline, Dx 3mm kidney stone, history of cervical precancer (CIN 3), Rx’d cyclonenzaprine, oxycodone as needed, and protonix.
A few days ago I urinated between 30 and 40 times. This is pretty normal for me. I normally have trouble urinating for about 5-10 minutes and then a normal length (but weak) stream comes out, and I spend a while getting the last drops out. Maybe a 25 minute total bathroom visit at most. I spend a lot of time on the toilet.
Yesterday morning around 9am until noon I sat on the toilet without getting a single drop out, then managed to get out a small stream and took a nap because I’d been up all night feeling like my bladder is gonna burst. Throughout the day I had a few very short streams, and was drinking water (at least half a gallon, maybe more). I stopped peeing around 10 and laid flat in bed trying to take shallow breaths to not put pressure on my bladder and had a few more unsuccessful or two-drop visits to the toilet. Fell asleep around 5am and woke up at 7, continued to really struggle with pain and finally gave into a hydrocodone I had from a while back and that didn’t work. I had already tried pyridium at this point and given it a while, but it didn’t help. I gave the hydro two hours, still no relief and no urine. Finally caved to 5mg of oxycodone because I’m broke and can’t afford copays and desperate to get to work. That didn’t work either. Still only a couple drops or complete inability to urinate. It’s like my brain stopped talking to my bladder.
So I finally called my urologist office saying this isn’t normal for me to have this happen for this long and they were shocked as to why I wasn’t at the hospital with a catheter already. I feel fine other than my insane bladder pressure and sharp pain. My urologist is out of the office but previously told me only to present to the hospital if I test positive on a drugstore UTI test strip. I don’t have money for that so I can’t check. I have $0 to my name and I’m thousands in debt from only being able to work less than 50 days this year due to my bladder. Is the urology office right that this is an emergency and I need a catheter? Or could this just be from the bladder wall thickening?
Every time I go to the hospital they tell me they have no idea how to help me and have never seen bladder wall thickening like this before and the last doc who was the top ER doctor there literally said he’s never seen what I show on CT and I’m discharged within an hour and referred back to my urologist, so I have little hope of anything going right.
I have a cystoscopy scheduled next week. I really can’t wait it out with a higher dose of pain meds? I’m constantly treated like I’m overreacting when I go to the ER and I will be humiliated if it happens again.
Thank you soooo much if you read this far. Any advice appreciated.

My 16 year old brother died in 2022 due to fentanyl poisoning. My mom found him in his bed. Before his death, he struggled with drug use. My mom caught him smoking weed at 14 or so, and instead of keeping a closer eye on him so he didn’t do drugs, she allowed him to do weed at 14-15 under the excuse “I’d rather him do it here at my house where he is safe than out somewhere else”. She even let her boyfriend sell weed to him at his young age.
This escalated into my brother always having his 13-15 year old friends over and them all doing weed in his room. Shortly after, at age 15, my brother started taking and selling psilocybin mushrooms. And of course shortly after the shroom sales began, he started doing party drugs with all his friends like ecstasy, “percs” aka fentanyl, Xanax, and potentially more. When my mom found out, she drew the line and said he cant do pills or hard drugs, but she would allow the marijuana and mushrooms as a “compromise”.
Horrible parenting in my opinion. Letting a 14-15 year old boy do any sort of drugs is irresponsible and undoubtedly contributed to my brother getting into pills, and developing a pill addiction to fentanyl that killed him. My mom did take measures to make sure he didn’t do pills, such as sending him away to rehab for 5 weeks before his 16th bday. When he came back, she was drug testing him but still allowing him to do weed and mushrooms.
After his death we learned from his friends he was putting bleach in his urine in the drug tests and was still doing pills. My mom never checked his room or took measures to ensure pills weren’t around. This was in June and he died in August when my mom didn’t think he was doing pills still. But she also wasn’t keeping an eye on him either. she was taking the clean drug tests at face value and didn’t supervise to make sure he wasn’t still selling and taking pills when he was doing both.
The police also found a handgun in his dresser and a bunch of pills on his nightstand the day he died. That’s how little my mom supervised my 16 year old brother with a history of dealing drugs and taking drugs. Now that it’s been almost 2 years since his death I cant help but resent my mother for not doing more. All she posts on social media is quotes about how much she wish she could have saved him and how much she grieves her son. And it’s honestly upsetting for me to see these posts constantly when I feel she could have done so much more and actually parented him instead of allowing drug use, and trusting him when he lied to her so many times about his drug use.

Sorry if this isn’t the appropriate community to post this in.
My 16 year old brother died in 2022 due to fentanyl poisoning. My mom found him in his bed. Before his death, he struggled with drug use. My mom caught him smoking weed at 14 or so, and instead of keeping a closer eye on him so he didn’t do drugs, she allowed him to do weed at 14-15 under the excuse “I’d rather him do it here at my house where he is safe than out somewhere else”. She even let her boyfriend sell weed to him at his young age. This escalated into my brother always having his 13-15 year old friends over and them all doing weed in his room. Shortly after, at age 15, my brother started taking and selling psilocybin mushrooms. And of course shortly after the shroom sales began, he started doing party drugs with all his friends like ecstasy, “percs” aka fentanyl, Xanax, and potentially more. When my mom found out, she drew the line and said he cant do pills or hard drugs, but she would allow the marijuana and mushrooms as a “compromise”. Horrible parenting in my opinion. Letting a 14-15 year old boy do any sort of drugs is irresponsible and undoubtedly contributed to my brother getting into pills, and developing a pill addiction to fentanyl that killed him. My mom did take measures to make sure he didn’t do pills, such as sending him away to rehab for 5 weeks before his 16th bday. When he came back, she was drug testing him but still allowing him to do weed and mushrooms. After his death we learned from his friends he was putting bleach in his urine in the drug tests and was still doing pills. My mom never checked his room or took measures to ensure pills weren’t around. This was in June and he died in August when my mom didn’t think he wasn’t doing pills still. But she also wasn’t keeping an eye on him either. she was taking the clean drug tests at face value and didn’t supervise to make sure he wasn’t still selling and taking pills when he was doing both. The police also found a handgun in his dresser and a bunch of pills on his nightstand the day he died. That’s how little my mom supervised my 16 year old brother with a history of dealing drugs and taking drugs. Now that it’s been almost 2 years since his death I cant help but resent my mother for not doing more. All she posts on social media is quotes about how much she wish she could have saved him and how much she grieves her son. That’s how little my mom supervised my 16 year old brother with a history of dealing drugs and taking drugs. Now that it’s been almost 2 years since his death I cant help but resent my mother for not doing more. All she posts about is how much she wishes she could save him, and only posts quotes about losing a son. And it’s honestly upsetting for me to see these posts constantly when I feel she could have done so much more and actually parented him instead of trusting him when he lied to her so many times about his drug use.

I lived with my current roommate for two years. Since she hasn't had much experience living on her own I made a comment to keep in mind when getting furniture that everything that is brought in will eventually come out. We live in densely populated city where rent increases often make people move after a few years. We were fortunate enough to have family close to help move our stuff in. She had a uhaul for her stuff and family to physically move stuff in. I had family members with a large enough car to tie a mattress to. Along with a couple chairs and a small dining table, my roommates family brought a very heavy sofa for the living room, that cannot be dismantled. I'm actually surprised they managed it on their own as I can't even lift it myself. However this time around, both of us were likely be on our own when moving. I'm planning on renting a uhaul as my car cannot fit everything.
I agreed that it makes sense to split the cost because we both benefited from the sofa. We ended up not moving so it never became an issue. However now she is moving to a different apartment about 30 min over when our lease is over in 6 months (she has changed jobs so she wants to be closer to it and I'm going to a different apartment building in the same city). We will be moving out the same day. If I was on my own, I wouldn't hire a mover, just get a uhaul and some moving materials as the furniture I personally own is very light.
While yes, I benefit from the furniture (also a dining table), it doesn't make financial sense to hire the same mover. I could also apply that logic to the TV and tv stand that I brought, but that would be an unfair comparision to be fair to her, as that is something that is very light and can be moved by myself. The fact that we will no longer be roommates make me think it would be unreasonable for her to expect me to split. We would be paying for the mover to put her stuff in a uhaul, drive to the other town, unload, come back, get my stuff and drive to another apartment. When we were thinking about not renewing our lease and moving together to another apartment due to a rent increase, I had estimates for movers over $1000, and that was for a few miles. For the amount we would save on rent, it wasn't worth it so we stayed. I can't imagine how much it'll be with two destinations.
Also, my roommate has a disability that makes it impossible for her to move most furniture by herself. She has no choice but to have help, while I just need a uhaul. So I feel like I'm going back on my word that yes we benefit from the sofa so it makes sense for us to share the financial burden.
So TL;DR AITA for changing my mind about splitting the cost of a mover, which means she will hire her own mover and I'll be responsible only for my stuff?

I am writing this review to share my experience and to let others know about what happened in this apartment. With it being a private landlord, it is not possible to leave reviews on a website or google, so I thought reddit is the next best thing. Let me start by saying - some of this is my fault for not sussing things out. I was in a bad situation before and was on a quick time crunch, so i said yes to this apartment quickly and without thinking.
This is a review of the Southside House on the corner of 14th St. S. Right next to dreamland. I lived in one of the bottom floor units. This apartment is owned by Fred Nasser.
I began renting here in April 2023 I was taking over a couple sublease. Let me say the first red flag should have been that the bedroom was EMPTY when I toured. I asked them why they are keeping it empty and not using it as the bedroom and they said they were using it for “storage” when there are literally 6 weird closets in this house. However, I just let that slide because to each their own? But I do think, in my opinion, they experienced the same thing that happened to me.
Sometime in the summer of 2023, I saw some house flies in the bedroom. Maybe like 3 of them? I thought “no big deal. maybe they just snuck in.” I come back from the gym, and there are literally at minimum 60 flies. All in the bedroom. Just on the bedroom window. They are not in the kitchen or anywhere else. I called Fred. He came out and sprayed the next day and yay he also caulked the windows completely shut and caulked dead flies into the window sill! But whatever I thought this was an old house.
Other experiences in the house - roaches. Not a full blown infestation but definitely concerning to have small baby roaches in the bathroom. Also neighbors in the upstairs who, and I am sorry to whoever is up there going through this, are in a toxic domestic situation. I would often hear someone in that apartment screaming “get the fuck out. I am going to K*ll myself” and banging so loud on one of the doors that my apartment would shake. I saw mold in the bathroom when i first moved in, and the next day it was “fixed.” Also can’t do laundry and bath at the same time because the water will be crazy. The shower frame (?) connector to the ceiling broke off due to so much water and steam eroding it away due to there not being a fan in the bathroom asked fred to come fix it…. he did not. I had to end up getting some wood to drill to the ceiling to then drill the shower frame into.
Fast forward to March 2024. The flies in the bedroom are BACK. Once again, just in the bedroom. However, this time there is a smell of rotting meat. I reach out to fred on Wednesday, and he says he will be out FRIDAY. But whatever, I will be patient. The flies continue to get worse and the smell becomes unbearable. I moved EVERYTHING out of the bedroom and into the living room. There is nothing in the actual bedroom that was causing this smell. I am updating Fred about the condition. He comes out on Friday and I text him later, as I was not in the apartment due to the flies and smell, asking him how it went. He says “Good. nothing dead.” I come back Friday evening and the flies are dead but the smell is still there. It was getting more and more pungent over the next week. I was running an ionizer to eliminate the smell, which would work for a few hours and then the smell would come back. I sent Fred a text on Friday, one on Saturday, and one on Sunday. All saying something like“Hey! I just want to let you know the flies are coming back and the smell is getting worse.” The flies were starting to come back on Saturday and continuously got worse. On Sunday…. my text did not deliver. I thought maybe he turned his phone off for the weekend. I wait till Monday. I send a text explaining how it is getting worse and there has to be something dead. My message does not deliver. I get a friend to send him a text, and it immediately delivers. I realized I got BLOCKED, or this is my opinion of what happened. This is my landlords only contact and he is also the maintenance.
I download Google Voice and text him that I need this to be taken care of as it is not livable and I will have to break the lease if not. He lets me out of the lease with it written that this will not affect my rental history or my credit. He also sends me back my full security deposit.
I am writing this to warn other people about my experience. I am concerned that someone so quickly has moved in after I moved out only 2 weeks ago. I really hope the smell and fly problem was fixed.

Recently Gates of Hell released the American faction and did a full overhaul of the German faction, leading to a pair of interesting factions with an incredible variety of historically authentic uniforms. You could zoom in on any of the squads and see the diverse uniforms depicted right down to the insignia on their caps and the regiments on their patches. Shermanator’s interview of Chase/Trudel (the lead animator & 3D human artist) gave me faith in the developer’s passion for the history and the game. This made me quite excited, because we have yet to see a British Commonwealth faction but there is some heavy implication that we can expect one in the future.
I wanted to make this thread, because I wanted to express my desire to see elements in the game that would make the Commonwealth faction a wealth of interesting units, uniforms and nationalities, particularly via the doctrines system that exists within the game. The intention is to throw in representatives across all the major nations of the British Commonwealth as well as some of the Allied armies-in-exile that came under British command. I also want to highlight some of the vehicles that are rarely mentioned in other games due to their obscure theatre or role. For the record, I'm not telling the devs what to do - I'm just making some example doctrines that I came up with as an example of the variety of units I'd love to see and making their inclusion plausible. Mostly to get the community talking.
I won’t talk about early war, partially because ‘Early war’ in Gates of Hell is largely post-Dunkirk, but also because I feel like what I am asking is still quite a lot just for one faction across two eras. I also I won’t be mentioning the more obvious or general units like Stuarts, Crusaders, Cromwells, Grants etc, as I expect them to be added nonetheless. It’s the vaguer aspects of the Commonwealth I wanted to talk about; the weird, wonderful and the diverse.
Mid War Doctrines
I think the mid-war should be largely inspired by the North African Campaigns, centred largely on the 8th Army and utilising the huge variety of cultures that fought within it. Extra bits can be added from the Italian campaign where the faction is lacking, and the Italian campaign can also be represented in the ‘Temperate’ skin for the mid-war faction. There are a lot of inspirations one can draw to create a variety of options for the Commonwealth player and each doctrine should draw from their unique aspects.
All-Round: Inspired by the Desert Rats, the 2nd Battle of El Alamein and Operation Crusader this one balances the various aspects of the other doctrines while keeping it unique. I’d like to see the Infantry include British Desert Rats Infantry, 2nd New Zealand Infantry, & 1st South African Infantry. I’d also like to see South African Marmon-Herrington Armoured Cars (multiple variants) as an early-battle option, plenty of the more common tanks and maybe the Bishop as a slow but mobile artillery piece. As a special call-in, we could probably include the Free French Legionaries as a powerful assault unit, just to really complete the variety in this division.
Defensive: Inspired by the Siege of Tobruk, this doctrine should primarily represent the Australians. Variations of the Australian 9th Division troops as infantry alongside minor British elements with a heavy emphasis on field engineers, emplacements and field guns. Defensive doctrine could also include RAF Regiment infantry, RAF 20mm Oerlikon guns, RAF Rolls Royces, India Pattern Carriers (from the Indian 18th Division), air strikes and, as a special unit, they could even have captured Italian tanks from the 6th Australian Division Cavalry Regiment! As a defensive doctrine, they should also have access to the best mid-war field guns, including the rare (but historical) ’Pheasant’ 17/25 Pounder Field Gun.
Offensive: Inspired by the Battle of Tunisia and Operation Torch, I think this one should show off the might of the UK’s heavier vehicles in the latter stages of the African campaign, particularly the Churchill III, Sherman III, the Priest 105mm and the Stuart Command Tank, alongside the more standard British tank options. As for infantry options, we can include Indian troops of the 4th Infantry Division (India), Gurkhas, and a motorised unit of 22nd Guards Infantry. I would also add the British Commandos in this division - partly because they were involved in Operation Torch, but also because they had an iconic impact on the mid-war (outside of Africa) that it would be a pity not to add them.
Irregular: This one would be quite unique in mid-war as it is effectively the light vehicle special forces doctrine. Although some standard British units would form the basis of the army, they would have access to a variety of assets representing the Long Range Desert Group; Chevrolet trucks with mounted Vickers MGs, Boys AT rifles, twin 303 Brownings or even Bofors and captured 20mm Breda guns! ‘Bamtam’ jeeps with twin Vickers Ks or 303 Brownings. The transport and logistics would be different too, using the Marmon-Herrington 6-ton Heavy Truck or the White 1064 10-ton. Other unique special call-ins would include an LRDG WACO Recon plane and the SAS (armed with the Lewes bomb). The downside to this doctrine, however, is that imagine it to be much lighter on armoured support, relying mostly on towed guns for its heavy firepower.
Other Units: I’ve tried to use inspirations from specific parts of the war to get a rounded but also diverse array of units, but there are loads of obscure units across the mid-war that I’d love to see; the Priest 105mm SPG, the AEC Deacon Gun Carrier, the Daimler Dingo, the Humber Light Reconnaissance, and so on.
That is as much as I want to say on mid-war without labouring the point. I’m sure there’s interesting things I’ve missed accidentally, and I’m afraid there’s some I have missed on purpose. For example, I considered the Australian Matilda Hedgehog, but it turned out to be late war and never used. I also considered the Greek and the Czech Division, but I think I’ve already stretched it too far as regards voice acting alone without adding units that, as distinguished their service might be, are just too obscure without adding anything extra - appearance or gameplay. That said, my hat would go off to the devs if they achieved that.
Late War Doctrines
Here we get to represent the Commonwealth units from Operation Overlord up until Operation Varsity.
All-Round: The quintessential British doctrine, combining bog-standard infantry with hardy tanks and a decent array of equipment. Partially based on Gold Beach, but also Operation Varsity/Plunder towards the end of the war, I would personally give them 50th (Northumbrian) Infantry, RAF Regiment Gunners, RAF Humber Light AC, Churchill AVRE, the Cruiser Mk. VIII Challenger and the Comet. Maybe give them some 6th Airlanding troops and 1st Canadian Parachute Infantry as a reference to the Normandy paratroopers if we feel they need more skilled infantry.
Offensive: The Canadian Doctrine - mostly inspired by the First Canadian Army in Normandy with elements of their experiences later on (including the Battle of the Schelt and Operation Veritable) with the doctrine largely focused on armoured assault infantry. They’ll look quite unique compared to the British because their uniforms were greener and they were the first to use the British-designed Mk.III helmet at D-Day. Troops of the 3rd Canadian Infantry Division as standard, supported by assault infantry. Eventually, armoured infantry can spawn in Buffalos (used at the Battle of the Schelt) and, as a special call-in, Ram Kangaroo APCs (sporting an armoured MG turret). The Otter armoured car would be an early call-in, with M4A1 Sherman Grizzly tanks as well as Ram IIs available in the standard tank tab. Some unique but limited special call-ins would include the Skink AA tank (of which 2 saw historical combat in Normandy) as well as a skilled sniper wielding the Ross rifle.
Defensive: Just as the US Defensive doctrine features the 101st Airborne (no doubt inspired by the Battle of Bastogne), the British Defensive doctrine can feature the British Airborne - particularly based on the defense of Arnhem Bridge in the Netherlands as part of Market Garden. Infantry units can include the 52nd (Lowland) Infantry, 1st Airborne Paratroopers, 1st Airlanding Infantry, Parachute Squadron Royal Engineers and 1st (Polish) Independent Paratroopers (who are distinctive with their grey berets). Armoured units can include the Tetrarch and the M22 Locust. To suit their defensive doctrine, they should get some decent guns and I’m thinking the airborne jeep-towed 20mm Polsten Gun, airborne 17th Pounder as well as (in a departure from the Parachute theme) the BL 7.2-inch howitzer. The Patchett sub-machine gun could make an appearance here too.
Irregular: Based on Sword Beach, Commandos and the 79th Armoured Division, with the more unusual units in the British arsenal. Probably with 3rd Infantry Division Infantry as standard, this unit could have access to No.41 (Royal Marine) Commandos, Fusilier Marines Commandos (based on No.4 Commando’s assault on Ouestreham), the Centaur Mk.IV QF 95mm, the Sherman DD, the Churchill Crocodile and Royal Engineer Assault Teams deployed in the cute Terrapin 4-ton Amphibious. If we want to be really wacky, we could even add the M3 Grant CDL (an unarmed searchlight tank) for armoured spotting, similar to the 150cm Flakscheinwerfer searchlight.
Other Units: Further unique units that would fit in any one (or multiple) of these divisions (based on balance) include the Land Mattress Rocket Launcher, the Loyd Carrier, the Universal Carrier WASP (flamethrower), the Sexton SPG, Sherman Firefly, the Archer TD, Achilles TD, the Priest Kangaroo, the Morris C8, Staghound and so on. There are SO many strange and obscure British vehicles that don’t often see the light of day, but would be perfect for Gates of Hell.
Post-release Doctrines -
More of a final thought than anything else, but if/when the Japanese get added into the game, I’d love to see a fifth doctrine to represent the British 14th Army to match the Japanese. A doctrine that is mostly comprised of Indian infantry and Indian tanks, with representation from the East/West African Divisions, Gurkhas and the British 2nd or 36th Infantry Divisions. Special call-ins could include the Chindits (using Thompsons and the Jungle Carbine) and paratroopers of the 50th Indian Parachute Brigade. If we’re feeling generous enough to allow the doctrine to encompass the Pacific Islands as well, we could also include an Australian squad armed with the Owen SMG, South Pacific Scouts, the Matida Frog (flamethrower) and the Matilda QF 3-Inch.
Conclusion: I apologise for such a long read. But I hope we see how a bit of ambition could really help the Commonwealth stand out and be worthy of the variety seen in the other factions since their overhaul. While the Germans have Spanish soldiers in their ranks, the Commonwealth can see the UK, Canada, India, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Poland, and France (and technically Nepal) all get some recognition. While the German Kriegsmarine and Luftwaffe stand out on the field, the Commonwealth might get the distinctive blue battledress of the RAF Regiment, or the long white tunics of the Foreign Legion. We would see such a variety of hats including pith helmets, berets, kepis, dastars, keffiyehs and slouch hats. Some units, like the LRDG vehicles, might even stand out as unique from any of the nations already in the game. It’s a lot of colourful uniforms, a lot of voices and a lot of strange and wonderful machines.
However, it does come with its downsides. Firstly, Africa and Europe are such dramatically different theatres that their version of mid & late war are incredibly different to one another. So much so that the depth of variety might make the faction too big, making it a lot of effort for the art department (especially with uniforms changing for the map’s climate. Imagine making skins for temperate, desert AND snow). The second issue is whether France is getting its own faction in future iterations of the game (the French flag appears in the loading screen during Axis vs Allies games). The final (and probably biggest) issue is voice acting. I’m no expert on games development, but I gather that getting enough voice actors for a faction is hard enough as it is without having to accurately represent 9 countries at once. I would love to hear the developer’s thoughts on the matter - whether such a project is within the game’s scope and if they have the ambition to take it this far.
Do let me all know what you think as well.

This is an old story some of my friends told me (29F) I should share here.. so here I am. Sorry for the long text, but there's a lot to unfold.
This started a few years ago, after I got ghosted by my ex, I decided to switch careers and took the proposal of my brother to work for one of his friend in an organic grocery store in my area. I was 22ish at the time, maybe 21 turning 22, but anyways.
I started working in the fruits and vegetables aisle. Despite having a crazy director, I liked my job and my department manager. After a few months, I got the title of "third key" which is basically I'm the assistant manager when the assistant is gone. Then, they decided to hire a new customer service manager that I will call Linda. That woman was CRAZY. While I was 23 at the time, she was only 20 acting like she owned the world.
To give you an idea, in the span of 8 months being here, she got 11 employees fired for stupid reasons and since our director at the time was just as crazy... it was easier for her to get her way. Also, when I say stupid reasons, I'll give you a few examples: Benji got fired because he was "talking too loud" in the break room and it was disturbing her peace and supposedly making her harder to rest to come back fully ready to finish her shift. Marie got fired because she HAD to take off work to go to a relative's funeral and couldn't give her 2 weeks notice. Rose got fired because she was getting "too old to do her job properly and it was ruining the pace of the team's work" (which is bs, I've never seen someone cut veggies and fruits as fast as her). And I could go on. Yes, some of them could've been able to be protested against and even file a complaint against her. Mind you, outside of Rose, everybody was too young to just wanting to fight for a grocery store job. Even Rose just decided to take her retirement earlier and fucked off the work world lol.
Anyways, she took it too far when she tried to mess with me. To give you the context, we had a huge special on lemons and sometimes, those fruits can get rotten and you don't notice it because there's no smell. The only way you'd know is by going through the several small boxes of like 10ish lemons and look at them all one by one. Which I did regularly, but hey, I'm not a robot, sometimes some of them slipped out of my eyes. I was leaving the backstore with more boxes when I saw Linda with a customer that seemed more than pissed. So I go see both of them because mind you.. she has a LEMON box and I work in the fruits department. So it's kind of my job to help IF I CAN. That's when I asked her "Hey Linda, do you need help with the lemons?" And right away she told me "Fuck off, I don't need your help, I already spoke to your manager. Go do your job for once." My face was literally like this 😳 as I went to my department. Even the pissed customer did a bombastic side eyes.
A few minutes later, I go back to the backstore to fulfill the missing products and my manager pulls me aside. "Hey OP, stay out of Linda's business. I can't protect you all the time for talking back." I stopped him right away asking what does he means cause as soon as she told me to fuck off, I did fuck off. He looked at me surprised and said he'd come back to me with it, but only tomorrow because he's finishing his shift and for some personal reason, he can't stay longer to solve the issue. Since Linda was the manager on guard that night, he told me to stay in the back as much as possible to stay in her good graces. That's what I did.
One hour after my manager left, I heard my name being called in the front office (shared by the customer service manager and director). Big wtf. I go in the front and all of my colleagues are looking at me like I'm a prisoner going to their death sentence. Mind you, I know my laws and my rights. I might be young, but as soon as I got called, I started reciting in my head the main laws and rights she has to respect. I open the door's office and Linda is FUMING. And she is alone. She asks me to close the door and I tell her "No, it is my right to have someone in the room with us for this talk. I am not comfortable being alone with you." She starts freaking out and starts to speak louder, on the verge of screaming. "Linda. This room is recorded 24/7 and the customers can hear you talking to me like that. Lower your tone and find a witness to be in the room or I'll go back to work." She stands up to look outside the office and sees that indeed, there's a line in front of the cash looking to the office's direction. She takes a few deep breaths and calls Gabrielle who takes care of the finances of the store so she can be a witness. From the moment Gab got into the room, she seemed like she wanted to get away, so do I.
Gab took a seat in the back and Linda starts her whole speech. I'll be paraphrasing cause the meeting took almost an hour.
L: You know why I brought you here, right? OP: Not really, I've been in the backstore minding my business. Why? L: Well you disrespected my authority in front of a customer and that's a big no no for the company. OP: For the company or for you? L: OP, this is not the topic. You shouldn't be disrespecting authority in front of customers. It makes the managers look bad. OP: I was honestly just trying to help because you had a box of products from my department. I just wanted to help because the customer looked pissed and I didn't want him to ruin your fragile mood. L: My fragile mood?! Are you fucking serious?! OP: Linda, we are being recorded and we have a witness. I'm asking you to stay polite and not scream or I will file a complaint against you. L: Are threatening me??? OP: No, I am stating my rights and making you aware of where your attitude will lead you. I won't accept being talked like that by someone that ain't even my manager. L: Okay OP, let me remind you where your position stands in this business.
That bitch started to draw a triangle, put her name at the tippidy top and mine at the bottom. I didn't even let her finish what she had to say, I stormed off the office, went into the employees lockers, took my stuff and headed out. Linda ran after me, yelling like a psycho "YOU CAN'T LEAVE LIKE THAT! YOU'RE STILL SCHEDULED FOR THE CLOSE!" I stopped on my steps, making Linda almost run into me and said with the most blank expression I could have "Linda, you crossed a line and since you're so good at your job, close my department for me. I will be filing a complaint against you." And left the work place.
Next morning, I came to work as usual and had to see my manager and the director. I explained them the whole situation and showed the papers I was about to send to file a complaint against Linda. Also, this dumb bitch didn't even throw her pyramid in the trash. It was still on display when the director came in to work and asked me what it was. I asked her to look at the cameras, put the sound on and listen to the whole meeting. We watched it to my director's horror and who came in to work in the middle of our screening time? Linda! She came into the office and Linda being a poc turned white as a ghost. I've never seen her being so so pale. "W-what are you doing?" The director asked Linda to sit down and we watched again the video. Mind you, it took us one full hour to watch because she was in a never ending power trip. She used to be smart when she was bullying and making stories about past employees, doing it far from the cameras and usually using the other office that doesn't have cameras or a microphone, but she wasn't with me. I guess she got comfortable or whatever, but check mate on her ass.
My director said I could go back to work with my manager, that she would take care of the rest. Two weeks later, Linda still had her job, but our director resigned from her job right away. Which was hella weird, but whatever. We got a new director, she was a total sweet heart and she noticed Linda's crazy power trips right away. She decided to launch an intern investigation, but sadly, all the employees Linda bullied were fired. There was only me and my little complaint waiting to be served. When Nancy, our new director, came to me asking if I knew anything about Linda. I gave her the file, the time stamps of the video tape, all the employees she fired for stupid reasons with the old director and also phone numbers of those employees.
Flash forward 2 weeks later, Linda left work earlier, balling her eyes out yelling how Nancy was a bitch and didn't deserve her job. How she always came in earlier, put in the work and yadi yada. Nancy waited a few more days before asking me to come into the office and again, I'll be paraphrasing because a lot have been said.
N: HI OP, don't worry, you're not in any trouble. I just saw your CV and noticed you've had a lot of experience in customer service. OP: Yes, I used to be a cashier for almost 5 years, it was my first job. Why? N: I've seen your file, your CV and how you managed the conversation with Linda. We are actually looking for a new customer service manager since Linda have been let go. OP: What about my actual position? N: It's easier to find a fruits and vegetables commis than it is to find a competent service manager.. as you experienced.
I ended up accepting the position and all my co-workers cheered for my raise. I don't want to brag, but I've always been the one to defend everybody in the place, making sure I'll keep my job in the process and following the laws and rights. A few months later, Linda came back to the store as a customer and the look she had on her face when she saw me at the cash with the manager uniform was priceless. It was even more priceless when she asked me when I got the promotion and I told her the exact date, which matched her departure. "So you got my position when I left?" I just nodded and asked if I could do anything more to help have a better experience in the store. She didn't answer to that and just left after paying her things.
To this day, it's still one of my favorite moments to have been through. I'm not a petty person, but if I can ruin you in the process of me trying to defend my people, I'll be more than happy to do so. Last I've heard of Linda, she was working for the competitor, but never had any promotions.

We just moved in with my Grandma (87) and my Aunt (65) to help in their older age and almost immediately my 14 year old chihuahua terrier had fleas and they’re everywhere. A vet friend suggested Bravecto so I’m in the process of obtaining that but in the meantime I’ve tried: - Seresto collar (does nothing) - Topical Frontline - Dawn Bath - Vacuuming daily - Washing bedding daily - Bug killer yard treatment - Indoor flea spray - Flea traps (which collect a ton of fleas)
I also I ordered diatomaceous earth which I will apply to mattresses and carpets.
They’ve started biting me and my children and I’m losing my mind.
The biggest problem I have is my family members are somewhat of hoarders. Their belongings aren’t necessarily excessive but they refuse to get rid of old things and they have a lot of clutter that they refuse to move or get upset when others move. This makes it virtually impossible for me to fully clean the house to get rid of the eggs. We’ve also got very old upholstered chairs and a couch that I’m unsure of how to clean.
Is there anything I can do in this situation other than move out? I’m so desperate to get rid of these.

Last night around 10:00 PM, I was taking my dog for a walk through the neighborhood. We don't have a yard, so we have to walk her 3X per day so she can do her business. I always pick up after her, and people usually give a friendly wave when they see us. Not tonight.
My dog starts doing her duty at the edge of someone's yard while I stand on the street holding the leash. I'm starting to pull out my poop-bag when this woman comes running up to us yelling, "don't let your dog poop here!" I was surprised and weirded out, but I told her, "don't worry, I'm picking it up." She keeps getting closer to us, yelling, "NO! Don't let your dog poop on my property! My window is open and I don't want to smell it! Control your dog! Make your dog stop!"
My dog is mid-turd at the moment, so I explain that dogs don't work that way. I told her I can't stop her from pooping, but I will pick it up. The lady's not listening to me and just keeps getting closer to us, yelling about dog poop or something. My dog starts growling at her, so I warn her by saying, "Please don't get close to my dog, she does bite." Then the lady says "Okay I'm calling the cops! They gonna arrest you!" I say that's fine, and ask her to please go in her house and call the cops. She tries to enter her house but it seems whoever she lives with has locked her out of the house. I wonder why.
She starts running toward me again, and I again warn her that my dog will bite. My dog is growling and barking now, because dogs don't like screaming Karens in their face. Karen starts screaming at me to pick up the poop, and that she's calling the police to have me arrested, etc. I said, "Ma'am, I'll deal with that later. Right now, your hostile behavior is creating an unsafe situation for me and my dog, so we're going to leave now." She starts screaming profanities, calling me names, and chasing after me. I just continue to walk away, thinking it will end there.
Nope, she continues to follow me down the street. I hear her yelling into her phone at the police to come arrest me. I hear her telling them I "threatened her with dog bite (she has a thick Asian accent)." I just keep walking, knowing the cops are telling her to go home and they'll deal with it later (never).
She continues to walk behind me at about a 15 foot distance. She's now yelling in another language at someone who I assume is the person who locked her out of the house. I hope she'll stop following me eventually so I can go home. I don't want her to see where I live, so I take several detours, but she just keeps following be from 15 feet away. I don't have my phone, so I can't call for help. I decide to head into the downtown area to find someone to help.
This lady followed me almost a mile into town. From 15 feet away, she just silently followed me walking my dog through neighborhoods, business districts, and across the highway into town. She had her phone out, recording me. I was getting really annoyed and made it to a busy bar with 5 young men standing outside. Unfortunately, they're all speaking in a foreign language as well. I turn around and tell the lady to stop following me. She starts yelling "You follow me back my house for police to arrest you! You threaten me dog bite! Follow me now! Police want arrest you!" I told her, sure, I'll follow you. You lead the way. She almost fell for it, but she saw me try to slip away and turned around and started her whole yelling thing again. The young men outside the bar just kept talking amongst themselves.
I continued walking through town with the lady following, recording me on her phone. I finally ran into a woman who approached me with a very concerned look on her face. I said, "can you please help me, this lady has been following me for over an hour." The nice lady said, "I know, I've been watching this go on for a minute." She confronted the Karen, telling her to leave me alone. The nice lady looked at me and said, "Just go... "
So while Karen was busy yelling at the nice lady about how my dog pooped or whatever, I just started running. I ran through a couple businesses and onto a back street and managed to lose Karen. I walked a full MILE back to my house and locked the door behind me.
I don't know what kind of crazy that was. All I know is that I feel REALLY bad for whoever was inside that house with the doors locked. I hope they're ok :-\

Heya! These posts/introduction messages always feel awkward and forced for me 😅 so buckle up 🤪…
Let’s get what I’m looking for out of the way, as no sense in taking up more of your time if it’s obvious that we aren’t a fit.
What I’m seeking:
As of current, my primary interests align most with a FWB situation, but I am open to any form of connection that develops organically between us (including simple friendship). I’m relatively open with regard to availability, though in an ideal world you would be open to seeing each other 1-2+ times a week. I’m attracted to a wide range of personalities and body types, so it can be hard to relay my interests there and is usually best just to connect and see if we click or not. I guess in the end, I’m pretty flexible in my interest and desires.
It’s also important to note that I do not smoke or drink at all. I don’t judge if you do either, but I will say that being around cigarette smoke is likely to be a dealbreaker for me. As for weed, I hate the smell, so I just ask that you please avoid smoking it around me. Vapes are fine, just please don’t blow them in my direction as I personally don’t care to breath that in. Alcohol I have no problem being around in all capacities lol get plastered for all I care.
A bit about myself:
It’s always hard to gauge what to share to the world in “bios” like this..I’ll try to highlight some of my most prominent characteristics and details 🤷‍♂️.
Let’s start physical. I’m 6’7”, definitely a dad bod with a bit of a stomach, 33 years young, long brown curly-ish/wavy hair (admittedly facing some male pattern baldness at my forehead hairline, so doing what I can with what I’ve got while I can 🤷‍♂️), brown eyes, wear glasses (if that matters to you at all), maintain a beard at all times (take the hair where I can, right? 🤪🤷‍♂️), and wear a size 19 shoe (putting that out there as it’s always a shocker 😆). No, I never played basketball for any teams growing up, but did play pickup games often after high school. The weather is just fine “up here” 🤪. As for style, or lack thereof 😆, you’ll likely always see me in some form of graphic or plain T-shirt with likely some form of shorts (I love the cold and hate being hot) year round, though every now and then I’ll change it up with pants and/or pollos 🤷‍♂️. I want to be more stylish tbh, but I don’t have the eye for good style, I’m colorblind, and often don’t feel other styles would suit my looks 🤷‍♂️. Speaking of looks, standard bearded Caucasian nerd looking dude lol, though when people see me, they might be quick to assume I’m the standard white conservative Christian type, when in reality I’m far from such (curse the genetics and looks I was born into 😭).
Kink friendly, so any questions or curiosity around such please feel free to bring up and discuss with me further.
I think that’s a good start on physical attributes, let’s move on to the internal ish…
Gah this section is much tougher to fill out 😅. Look, I just love just about everybody, will generally give everybody the time of day and benefit of doubt, can strike up a convo with just about anyone (though sometimes I need the other person to engage the start of that convo 😅), and would do my best to help and protect anyone around. I just want the best for everyone, ya know? I’d say i lean more extroverted, but do battle a moderate amount of social anxiety that im sure you’ve picked up on by now..you’d likely think im more introverted with how often I stay home and how little I randomly reach out to friends/others. It’s not that I don’t love getting out and about and don’t care to talk to my friends, I just get so caught up in my day to day life that it just doesn’t cross my mind, OR I get social anxiety (especially if I haven’t spoken to someone in a long time, I always worry they think I don’t care about them and our friendship).
Beyond this, it’s hard to list my other qualities, so I’ll just move on to interests and maybe that’ll help highlight more?
My Interests:
Can’t help but feel kind of boring and basic when filling out this section 😅. I feel like it’s a lot of what most people list as their interests and that my list is small/limited/boring. Travel Culture/language Food Music (very large and eclectic taste in music) Gaming of any form (video, board, etc) Puzzles/challenges/sports (I love a good challenge, so huge kudos if you are competitive) Technology (always fascinating what we are making in this world) I’d like to learn to dance but right now I’m very self conscious about my terrible dancing (I feel awkward 😔)
Disinterests: Low hanging ceiling fans and light fixtures 🤪
Details regarding my current Poly configuration:
I’m happily married with one child. If I do take on any new partners I never expect you to take on any form of relationship or responsibility for the rest of my family beyond just maintaining a safe space through proxy. My wife and I practice kitchen table Poly, so we are completely open to everyone happily interacting together, but if you aren’t comfortable interacting with the rest of my family no problem! Ask if you have any further questions on how we Poly ethically, happy to answer any questions!
Anyways, I’ve made this long enough…if you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for taking the time to read my post to entirety! Even if we aren’t meant to connect, you and your time are greatly appreciated! Sending my warmest regards and a friendly virtual hug ❤️.

As If It Were Kismet: Prologue
Matt tore through the brush, blind in the dark. He didn’t care where he was going. He only knew he needed to be elsewhere. Far from here.
Behind him a creature howled that shocked his mind. It’s form was cruel and dangerous, though female. Nothing like the young woman she had once been. Nothing but a girl, a small and slight female.
It’s guttural growls and howls only grew closer as Matt tried to pick between seeing where he was going and getting away. The few times he looked he caught sight of the creature behind him. Hopping through the air with a speed that told him he was being toyed with. As if he were a mouse being played with by a cat.
But the reflex in him to run kept him going. His adrenaline going as hard as it could. The tightness and burning in his core tensing and locking up as his legs felt like there were being burned from within while taking on more of a heaviness.
His lungs were starting to betray him as he tried to gulp big breaths of air but only rapid and shallow breaths were all that he could manage. His brain was starting to burn….and then he was falling.
Falling down the side of a hill he saw the creature dart in a spring towards him, imperceivably fast almost. Catching him in mid air it seemed.
Managing to wrap its body around him and cushion his impact against the ground as they rolled. His mind barely took in what was happening during the roll. Only starting to understand what was happening once they were still.
The creature's triple D-cup breasts were unmistakably pressed hard against his back as he laid facing up at the night sky.
For a few seconds the world stilled and the needle light pain hitting the center of his brain took over for the cooking heat his brain had felt. His whole body felt heavy and reluctant to move.
Even if he could have really moved, a dull ache came over his limbs making them feel stilled and trapped as if by immeasurable amounts of sand that had engulfed him.
Slowly the arms holding him started to move. Moving so the creature's hands could start exploring him. Causing Matt to unstoppably let out a pathetic moan that made him go cold inside as hands lifted up his shirt and started to touch his exposed stomach and then his chest.
He would have whimpered so pathetically had he not still been in the depths of terror.
As its hands felt and groped his pecs he tried to situp as if to get away. For his efforts, his reward was a hand around his throat and a collection snarls and growls against his ear. A beastly, guttural voice spat words at him while somehow holding a feminine tone.
“Don’t move….I don’t know if I can calm down…”
Her words were not helped by her moans in his ear and the subsequent kissing of his ear. The flesh of his ear going between her lips as she moaned and seemed to pant. Releasing it and licking the side of his face with a moist warmth. He could feel its spittle, viscous and coating his flesh where the tongue touched. He could smell something in his saliva. Something that subtly entranced him.
Matt went stock still with fear and the confusion of mixed arousal. He barely perceived her right hand traveling lower on his body. A surprised moan and shudder echoed in the night from Matt’s lips as she took ahold of him. Her hand above his pants but still….stimulating him.
A light squeezing and almost probing of her digits kept him aroused and confused within her grasp. Resigning himself to the strange fate, Matt looked up at the stars as his mind tried not to shatter under the strange maelstrom of events and sensation that had started mere minutes ago.
His mind was only more confused as a slight figure, feminine in build, how it seemed to thunk the ground audibly as she landed on her feet out nowhere. Her knees barely bending under the pressure of the landing. Yet dirt was kicked up anyways and some of it onto Matt. Feeling it pepper his shirt and pants as it fell.
The figure, lit only faintly by moonlight, roared some dark tone Matt could only perceive as a demon as her eyes went bright with a crimson light. A light in the darkness that should not have been. “Let him go you bitch.” Was its words following the roar. Spittle escaping its mouth with faint droplets hit Matt's face.
The creature holding him by his throat and crotch seemed to tighten the grasp of both hands as it roared back. “HE IS MINE!”
The figure paused with a moment's hesitation. He was also her quarry. She had felt his fear without him knowing. His confused arousal. His fear. His terror.
And now he laid at the center of a struggle between two monsters. Unsure of who he wanted to win.
As If It Was Kismet Ch. 1
Matthew Berkshire hadn’t seen his mom in two years. Not that he had seen her much over the last six years.
A messy divorce between messy people and mom’s chaotic want for a life in Alaska had been one of the most…upsetting times in life. Setting him up for so much of what had defined his life thus far but then that had really started two years before he ever turned.
His ear buds were basic and simple. A part of cheap five pack, common for his life as he was known to lose little things. Small things. They had a mix of metal and hard rock playing in them. Some classics, some alternative. Whatever made him feel something, anything. Even if it was hate. Anger. Rage. It was better than feeling numb. Not belonging.
The escalator down to his lone bag to go with his lone carry on showed his mom waiting for him. His had a type, that’s for damn sure. Not that it helped him in the genetics department as he was stuck at 5’9” to go along with his mother’s five foot even as his dad stood six foot. Forever leaving him to feel small, to pale, under his dad’s shadow. Did he ever stand a chance?
The guy next to her with the unkempt former seventies porn stache was “Dave.” He’d met him twice when his mother came and visited him in Florida. To his credit the guy didn’t look annoyed. Kind of concerned kind of which made Matthew want to break his frozen look but he was well practiced. Having removed any note of sadness from his face through much…tribulation.
His mother’s look on her face betrayed a hint of worry as the bruises on his face lightly showed up close. Saying his name was his like a distant echo that belonged to someone else.
Dave cut in and pulled out his right headphone. “What the hell bud, they knock you hard enough to hurt hearing? Your mom’s asking how you are doing.”
Matthew pulled out the other bud and grunted an empty “sorry.”
“You still have bruises after two week? What did they do to you?” His mom’s voice was full of worry. Something he hadn’t heard in….too long. Too long to make him feel anything. To ever make him believe there was any sincerity to her words. To not think her voice and mannerisms were an act. An act by someone who…wasn’t really there.
“It’s only fair. I took a nose. Fractured a couple orbital bones. Left one with having to get his jaw wired shut. And one will never walk right again for what I did to his knee cap.” Matthew said it all with a bored and disinterested tone. Perhaps well rehearsed.
“My man, handing out ass kickings, not bothering to take names.” Dave was quick to be the typical man’s man about it. Matthew wasn’t quite done yet. Lifting up his shirt to expose the right side near his kidney. Revealing a nasty scar from a six inch blade. “Luckily they gave me this first so they could rule it all in self-defense. The fuck didn’t get it in more than inch before I ruined his knee cap and then I took the nose of one of the fucks holding me.” Now he chose to smile keeping the well practiced dead look in his eyes.
No retorts. No questions. Just horrified looks on their faces. As he liked. As he preferred. They could hate him. They could be disgusted by him. But by God they would fear him.
“Well the doc did a good job sewing you up.” Dave commented uncomfortably. “Dissolving sutures. Ain’t they grand.” He smiled again and let it abruptly fall off his face and started walking to the carousel for the baggage claim.
Waiting and making small talk with Dave as his mother stood in silence. He was not the little boy she abandoned. The little boy she left with an angry man. While never hitting him. Left him in constant fear till he turned twelve and just didn’t care anymore. Something snapped. Broke. And he didn’t care if he died. Didn’t care if he stole. Didn’t even care if he killed. He just knew not to get caught. Something left over from his grandfather’s wisdom which came to make more and more sense with each passing year of life since that thing inside him broke.
Finally his bag came around and Dave went to try first to grab it but Dave practically leapt ahead of him. “Is that your grandfather’s rucksack bag?” his mother asked in a perplexed voice.
“Figured it’s been around since Viet Nam. So it’d serve me better than any of the worthless stuff they called luggage.” Dave commented after Matthew’s words. “Well hell yeah I still got mine from Desert Storm. You know the first one.” Dave laughed and Matthew eyed him oddly. Be it in the south or whether it was Alaska, country boys are country boys he guessed.
The car ride to the two people’s house, as Matthew thought of them. Was uneventful and full of vistas he imagined metropolitan types wetting themselves over. At most they meant isolation to him. Furtherness from the world as there were no mountains in Florida. And what mountains he had last seen in another state had been when he was eight. Another life, to Matthew it felt like. A life alien to him.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 2
Dave and his mom’s place was some two story type tucked into a tree line far up an elevated point. It was by no means the highest point in the mountain but it certainly felt up there.
Rocks were where the driveway should have been Matthew thought. Grabbing his backpack and rucksack from Dave’s jeep was no hard thing for him. Matthew was in formidable shape for someone his age, maybe even five years older. He had gotten a mix of fairly big shoulders and arms along with the chest to go for it when compared to most kids his age. A side effect of working out at least twice a day. First thing in the morning, some time in the evening, and the school’s gym when had had a good semester in school before he had to leave Florida.
Dave tried to come up and help him but Matthew walked past him towards the house. His mom was not sure what to make of his demeanor. Matthew was not the sweet kind boy he had once been. But she had been gone from his life essentially for a long time.
Ushering him into the house she cracked some joke he did not hear. He was too busy looking about and seeing a mix of old outdated decorating mixed with the strange and odd flair of his mother. Color contrasting against drab and dated. Like brightly painting over an old home that was falling apart he thought.
“Your room is this way Mattie.” His mom brightly intoned.
Without expressing any interest he followed his mother. Still faced and nonplussed. Just going along with the current. Pushed and pulled with its roll like a piece of driftwood.
The room was simple. A single small bed. A set of rubber weights with a curl bar and barbells. “Your dad said you were into weight lifting so we got you a bunch of stuff. Dave says it looks like his department’s gym almost. The woman’s smile felt very alien to him.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ve got most of my stuff from home.” Matthew starting unpacking his rucksack and pulled out cables of repetitive and mixed colors. A single plastic barbell handle. The ruck sack could be filled with water bottles for added weight during pushups he figured. Remembering a Michael Keaton movie he watched with his dad post-Batman movies where he played a convicted killer using plastic bags filled with water for weights.
Matthew caught movement outside his lone fairly large window that could let him step out onto the roof of the house given its layout.
He saw a number of people running together through what he guessed was the backyard of the property, not that it had any fences to mark boundaries
They wore clothes that looked similar yet different from each other at the same time.”Oh those are the Johnston’s. Really nice bunch of people. Been on the mountain for a long time Dave tells me.”
Matthew looked at the group of people running and noticed the lack of resemblance. “They are related?” Matthew quizzically asked. Seeing a black and possibly a hispanic person amongst the bland looking white people.
“Oh well they are all adopted but for one or two of them…besides the parents of course. The family has a long tradition of taking in orphans they say. Real nice of them to do that don’t you think.”
Matthew looked at his mother and the hosier accent made no sense to him as he arched his left eye brow. Her and his dad were both from Florida. Born and raised. Sure her parents were from New York city but…
Matthew shook his lightly without turning to look at his mother as his vision was grabbed by one of the runners in particular. A girl of moderate height. Soft brunette. A plain beauty he figured with a slim build….and lack of remarkable breasts and rear to make any note of but….girls in general were his type at his age.
She was pretty enough. He couldn’t deny that but he found himself transfixed by her visage.
But the way she turned and looked at him, especially at that distance felt very disconcerting to him. Even if she was smiling like…she was a taste of a bright shiny day. Somehow.
Matthew’s mom noticed the exchange and smiled to herself with closed lips. “Oh that’s Vicky. She’s your age I think. Very sweet girl, who does the charity functions. You know bake sales, blood drives, car washes and the like. I think you should get to know her. Might be good for you.”
A truck horn sounded a couple of beeps in rather succession. “Oh that must be Mack, he said he might come by later this evening but he seems early.”
Matthew’s mother turned and left his room. Leaving Matthew to exchange a few looks with the alluring Vicky as she turned her head away from him to talk to the others in her group and look back at him.
Still Matthew’s left eyebrow was arched. In a way that reminded him of Spock from Star Trek that he and his grandpa used to watch on some streaming service or another.
As he heard ambient chatter elsewhere outside the house he figured to check it out as the alluring sight of Vicky would be around he figured. It was dull to stare at artwork. He was a boy who preferred jet skis and the like. Something he could ride and enjoy immensely. Even if at times it got him stabbed.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 3
Matthew sauntered out of the house and down the rockway that stood in for a driveway.
A few new people had come over from what he could first surmise of the situation. As he got closer it was obvious they were indigenous people. A couple of grown men…and a girl?
She was mousey. Maybe five foot. Hiding behind glasses and a big camo jacket that was far too big for her. It looked made for a grown man and the backwards trucker hat on her head kept her long black a beautiful mess of sorts.
She was cute in a way. A little androgynous but she had a cute energy to her. She reminded him of the more tomboyish Puerto Rican girls he had gotten into back in Florida. Given the deer corpses in the back of the truck….probably more dangerous to play with given the men in her family.
Small chatter passed between the adults when the girl noticed but turned away, trying to hide the tiny hint of a smile.
“Oh Mattie, this is Mack. He works with Dave at the sheriff’s department and John, he’s with fish and wildlife.” Matthew nodded at his mom’s words with some blankness as he looked at the deer the in the back of the pickup truck.
“Gale tells us you hunted with your dad some in Florida and Georgia.” Mack offered with a light hearted laugh camouflaged by his big simple and cheery but husky way he spoke.
Looking in the back of the truck he spoke. “We used lever action thirty-thirties and Mosin Nagants in seven-six-two-fifty-four-rimmed.” Mack and John whistled in an exaggerated fashion. Leaving Matthew to wonder if they were mocking him.
Mack spoke. “Well we just used thirty-odd-six in a custom gussied Garand.” That caught Matthew’s attention. “You have a Garand…” Matthew finally demonstrated interest in anything. “My dad has an SVT-40 and a Hakim 8mm but he always wanted a Garand but was too cheap to buy one.”
Gale, his mother, chimed in loudly. “Oh his Dad loved his guns but was such an odd duck about how he bought or why he bought them. Never made sense to me how he wasn’t a collector but he didn’t get the latest and greatest.” Gale laughed uncomfortably. At least it seemed that way to Matthew.
Matthew pointed to the girl with an underhanded pointing hand. “And who is this? A cute little mute mouse or does she have a name?” Dave and the other men laughed.
Mack again spoke. “Well you people call her Rebecca, she’s my adopted daughter.” Matthew was taken aback by what he heard. “You people?”
Rebecca kindly spoke with a soft but almost melodic voice as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “White people or rather not members of our tribe. It’s just easier to appease the colonizer kind of thing. Borrowed from when the Jesuit missionaries chased us up here.”
Mack stepped in. “It’s just easier to have white people names than have them try to say our tribal names. And we don’t want them shortening or Anglicising our names kind of thing.” Rebecca stepped back into the conversation cutting off her adopted father. “It’s an insult to our history basically.”
Matthew cocked his head sideways raising his eyebrows shortly before letting them drop. “Well as soon as I’m eighteen I’m out of here and back to Florida so I’m a sort of involuntary colonizer of sorts. So I won’t be taking any of your land from you. The Seminoles on the other hand are still shit out of luck.”
Rebecca’s smile caused Matthew to reflexively smile. Mack made the moment more awkward. “See Becca, I told you someone off the reservation would like you some. You just have to be creative.” Mack laughed in a chiding manner…Matthew presumed. He sensed that he was the butt of some kind of cultural joke. Like marrying a white guy was some sort of insult or mark of shame. That kind of thing.
Rebecca turning away from him was not something he had been expecting. Her then getting in the truck in a huff left the group in a silence for a moment.
Dave spoke to break the awkward silence. “Well just bring the truck to work on Monday and leave it for me to grab up.” Mack acknowledged Dave and they started to get off as Rebecca looked at Matthew for another instance. Matthew couldn’t look away for some reason as the two seemed to lock eyes for an instance.
Till Vicky and family seemed to come jogging down the road. While Matthew’s eyes diverted from Rebecca’s. Hers did not till she realized he was looking elsewhere. And her vision found Vicky and what had been a hint of smile on her face turned glum and disappointed.
Matthew did not look away from the vision of Vicky but instead of a starry eyed fool looking longingly. It was a baffled look. Well baffled for him, with his eyes drawn narrow and night with a focus.
There was something about her…he couldn’t quite put a name too. The way she appeared to him. One second brunette. The next second blonde or blonde like. As if the color appeared in her air and disappeared in fractions of seconds. Much the same way her body almost seemed to…shift…very subtly…smoothly. A nicer bum. Larger breasts. And then back to a simple and plain form. Feminine no doubt. Attractive. But not so…remarkable.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 4
The next two days passed without incident. Nothing of any real substance or challenge to note.
Matthew got settled somewhat and started working out almost immediately. Exploring around the woods but Dave told him not to go far. Especially without a hunting rifle. Dave had left a simple semi-auto Winchester out for him. His bear gun as Dave referred to it with its four round magazine. But Matt figured till he got some practice with the rifle to leave it alone. He made a hiking stick like his grandpa taught him and treated it over a low fire. He would take some electrical tape for the end his hand would grip around. Plenty enough to ward off anything smaller than a bear he figured.
The ride to school was a pain in the neck but simple enough. Dave would let him use a clunker pickup truck he had laying around. It wasn’t pretty but it would get him to and from. Even if it was from the eighties and still backfired on occasion. But for now Dave and his mom took him on their way to the sheriff’s department.
It wasn’t much of a school. It wanted to be modern but its fifties original construction was very obvious. It serviced the pipeline families and familys’ of fisherman who worked the seasons in between their time at the pipeline.
Matt was to report to the principal for some reason Dave and his mom wouldn’t share. Which annoyed him but he figured it was to read him the law of land. Small towns with their big views of the outside world and like.
Dressed in jeans, a grey sweatshirt under a light jacket with steel toed boots set him more apart then he expected. His buzzed head didn’t help matters. Already he was feeling like a stranger in a strange land but he was quite strange after all. And he liked it that way. Normal people were so pathetically disappointing to him.
A secretary or assistant or some such led him to the principal’s office. Where it reeked of real wood that was old and fabric and upholstery that needed to be updated for the last twenty years, Matt figured.
“This is Matthew Berkshire, Principal Andrews.” The man was turned with his back to the door and he was quick to wave her off as he turned her around.
He was an older man. Fat and large. Tall with a body built like he had once been fit and a demeanour of annoyed and irate already as he fixed Matt with a scowl and look of disgust. Another worthless government whore. Matt thought to himself. His father and his grandfather had bestowed unto him a natural disrespect for government workers and the figures that wore unjustified authority as a shield but pretended the weight of the state was not at their back ready to crush all who resisted. Little figures of valor pretending to be mighty and alone but acting with the tyranny of the state and all the backing.
“Mr. Berkshire, please sit down.” His tone wasn’t unusually hostile, just gruff. As if he had better things to do.
Matt complied and took a seat in the chair while maintaining a friendly facade. Not everyone was an enemy. And not everyone needed to be an enemy. Even if anybody could be any enemy. There was no reason to make enemies you didn’t have to. Another of his grandfather’s bastardised wisdoms.
“Well I looked over you file and you have quite the history Mr. Berkshire.” Matt resisted qiuping back a joke. Instead he waited for Principal Andrews to continue as he remained nonplussed and looking as if he felt no need to respond. A simple head tilt with dead eyes looking back at the principle as if he was not even there would suffice.
Matt’s reaction or lack of a reaction rather made Principal Andrews only narrow his eyes with examination. He was not used to a kid not responding to him. Especially with his gruff and hard act going on.
“Well by all accounts you moved here after some problems at your last school. A fight broke out and you did some real harm to your fellow students it appears.” Of course, he would take the side of the perpetrators. School administrators always did. Especially when they weren’t white. Just a fact of the times. Cowardice and pathetic mediocrity was the way they leaned, like good government workers sucking the dick of Big Daddy government. Worthless whores.
Matt chose to reply. “Oh you mean the criminals that stabbed me. Got arrested at the hospital and then pled to felonies. Yeah Florida, with the American counties are good like that.” Principal Andrews went real still. No shame. No fear. No penitence. He didn’t like that.
“Well be it as it may Mr. Berkshire we don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour here…” Matt cut him off responding with a deadpan tone. “You mean self-defense meant to save one’s own life while the cowardly and pathetic school workers look on with zero interest but to keep their money rolling in and will allow known gang members with records of violent acts and crimes that should have them expelled many times over, where in certain Democrat counties such cowardice and idiocy empowered a couple school shooters?”
Principal Andrews looked at the Matt with a note of disgust. “Look here Mr. Berkshire, your beliefs matter not one bit here. This isn’t Florida. We don’t like our way of life being disrupted by outside agitators who have problems with authority.”
Matt did his best not to roll his eyes and let the older fat man drone own as he dead-stared him. Lifeless and without emotion.
The man came to a finish and Matt spoke up without having listened to him or paid him any attention. “Great now that’s taken care of. Can I please get to class and finish my sentence of two years at your wonderful school?”
Principal Andrews huffed and snorted before calling in Vicky. Vicky stood in the corner after entering with a quiet and seamless presence. Matt felt disturbed and tried not betray his feelings as the young Vicky was perceived and not perceived to be moving.
Principal Andrews made the introductions and Matt nodded back. She was to be his chaperone for the day. They had the same classes and she was to show him the ropes so to speak. The ins and outs of the school. The locations of their classes.
He recognized her. It was hard not to. The way her appearance seemed to shift fluidly almost. The petite and skinny brunette ever so lightly had a big bust and blonde hair with curves added when she seemed to shift before his eyes. Like watching a film but each frame had a different person.
Matt didn’t say anything about it. Even if he did he would only be acknowledging his crazed state, if he had one. If.
Unlike an obedient puppy dog he got up in a slow and awkward fashion and followed behind her as his oddly disproportionate frame allowed. Causing her a note of concern for some reason. As if she was seeing something she shouldn’t have been….Or he was just weird. And Matt could admit to himself he was just weird. Part of his charm, he would jest about it at times. Not that he had many people to jest to now.
As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”