Rounded letters fonts

Ok I am officially graduating in a week and I thought it would be interesting to talk about my experience at Pace. My situation is a bit unique though as my underclassmen years (Freshman/Sophomore) were primarily remote because of COVID. As result I do feel I missed out on stuff, but I think I made up for it in the years following.
I am a film major with a digital media minor. I found the film major was extremely quick, but I could not afford most of the production classes (16mm, intro to film making, ect) so that locked me off a lot of the more advanced classes. That being said, I loved Editing I & II and even TA’d for Editing I for most of my time. I was not a member of any clubs because of COVID (didn’t feel like getting on zoom calls) but pace has a great club scene!! Ok on to my take aways

• Pace is just as good as the effort you put into it. Get involved on campus, it’s super easy. Join clubs, the newspaper, the radio show, student galleries, or even see what your professors are working on. Every semester research grants are offered to anyone! Like I said I TA’d and did work on the film festival. I had a lot of fun and it was rewarding! So many people I see just kinda go to class and thats it. That won’t get you an internship and that won’t get you a job.
  
• If you can stick through the beginng of your core requirements, you can literally do whatever you want. I know taking english is annoying. I know the coding class is annoying. But after that? There is like barely any limits. I took a sports class, criminology, anthropology, TV data class…it’s literally whatever you want.
  
• USE THE CAREER CENTER. specifically, USE SAL!!! The career center actually does care about you, they will make your cover letter and your resume. It’s important to have one which gives you access to the most important thing ever: HANDSHAKE. I got two internships and I’m interviewing for a startup that I found on there.
  
• form positive relationships with your professors. Don’t skip class, do the homework, and participate in class. Often when you do this they’re more lenient with you, will round your final grade, and can offer letters of recommendation or anything else.
  
• you need a job if you’re going to live in the NYC campus…unless you’re just rich. I find that the workload at pace makes this manageable. I worked at a retail store in WTC, got me through the semesters fine.
  
• honestly? The food isn’t bad. Not great!! But not bad. Its what it says on the tin, don’t expect anything fancy.
  
• the gym is gross. Sorry
  

Genuinely i had a fantastic time at Pace and don’t regret my decision.

If I hadn’t drunk an entire gallon of tea back at the hotel, maybe none of this would’ve happened.
Well, maybe if we hadn’t gotten kicked out of the hotel, none of this would’ve happened.
It had been just the two of us in the small car, but with the animosity heavy on the air, it felt overcrowded. I don’t know what had been worse, the hour of arguing, the two hours of silence afterwards, or the burgeoning realization that maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.
I studied him out of the corner of my eye. We'd been together for several months, but the recent experience left me wondering if I had ever even met the real Brian – who he truly was on the inside.
It had been our very first trip together.
We'd saved up for one of those super fancy hotels and had been having a great time – until, of course, Brian decided to attempt a five-finger discount in the jewelry store in the lobby.
He'd told me when we first started dating that he'd had some run-ins with the law in the past – when he was young and that was the only way to put food on the table, and I'd understood.
But this wasn't the same. It wasn't for survival, it was just greed.
We’d both spent the rest of our vacation money and then some, paying for that $1,800 watch so no charges would be pressed.
They still kicked us out. I don’t blame them.
Asking him to stop at the next place we came across was the first thing I'd said to him in hours, and he nodded, solemnly.
My discomfort was escalating to the point where I was considering asking him to pull over on the side of the road – rain be damned – when we saw the dim sign flickering in the distance.
The small store was out of place on the quiet, tree lined mountain road. We’d been deep in a tunnel of trees and hadn’t seen so much of a hint of the lights in the distance – it seemed to just appear into view as we went around the bend. I didn't recall seeing it on the way to the hotel, so it was a pleasant surprise.
I felt a flood of relief wash over me.
It stuck out in the otherwise beautiful mountain landscape – windows so dirty that the light inside barely reached us through them – several letters on the sign lit up in such a way that the only word we could even see was a blood red '- MART' flickering.
Any relief I'd managed to feel was short-lived.
When we walked in, we both froze as we took in the interior.
I instantly wished we’d just stopped by the side of the road after all. I looked at Brian and could tell he felt it too – he was fiddling with his new watch and took off his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, and put them back on, as if that would make what he was seeing make more sense.
There were no other customers, no employees visible, it was just the two of us.
Ceiling tiles hung askew, and the floor was filthy – we had to step over a drain in the floor with grimy stains circling it, to walk in.
If it weren’t for the lights, gentle hum of the AC, and grinding sounds floating from down the long hallway at the back, I’d have thought the place was abandoned.
It was humid inside, and the smell coming from the old coolers that lined the back walls hit me as soon as we walked in. It reminded me of the summer my dad had decided to dabble in taxidermy in our basement.
The slight hint of rot that lingered on the damp air indicated poorly done taxidermy, at that.
As I darted towards the back towards the restroom sign, a placard dangling off it caught my eye, informed me the restroom was for paying customers only.
I quickly perused the shelves for something to buy. The aisles were tall, nearly to the ceiling, and despite the store being somewhat small, I felt the panicked sense of being cornered and trapped in an endless maze – at risk of becoming lost in there forever. The food on the shelves resembled nothing like the usual chips and candy these types of stores carried – there were rows upon rows of soft looking mystery items in plastic wrap, some of them leaked a red-brown residue down the shelves – none of it looked remotely appealing.
I passed by a section with a stained placard that said ‘handcrafted from local artists’ that was filled with eclectic items, none of which seemed to go together.
There were torn shirts with random logos – nothing related to the town or area we were in, stained with mud, grass, and god knows what else. Dried ropy things formed small and delicate sculptures of animals unlike any I’d seen before. I reached for a bracelet with intricately carved white beads but nearly dropped it when I realized the band was made up of woven human hair. It left a residue on my hand, and I noticed then that the same sour-rot smell was coming from the collection of items, too.
I opted for a flat and lukewarm Dr. Pepper instead, and placed two $2 dollar coins on the glass counter in front of the hand scrawled ‘shoplifters will be processed’ sign near the register.
I figured I misread it, after all it, looked like it had been written by a hand unused to holding a pen.
Brian had grabbed an armful of those unnerving plastic-wrapped packages but hovered at the counter a bit too long. I could hear the scrape of him retrieving the coins on the glass, the sound of him dropping them into his pocket.
He gave me a pointed stare as he did so.
I sighed, so tired of arguing that I just walked away from him and down the hallway. I figured I’d pay (again) after he got back in the car.
No sooner had I closed the door to the women’s room behind me, than I could hear him talking to someone.
His voice rose until he was nearly yelling. Mortified and trying to delay being involved in another incident that day, I splashed water on my face while trying to drown out what appeared to be a one-sided argument.
I kept trying to wash the grimy feeling that had lingered on my hands after picking up the bracelet, but no matter how I scrubbed, I couldn’t get it off – it kept getting worse.
I felt nauseous when I realized the greasy residue was coming from the pale-yellow bar of soap. I decided I’d scrub my hands raw at our next stop, and stepped out into the hall and back to the store.
Brian wasn’t there.
I called out for him, but all I heard in answer was that same vague whirring and drilling sound coming from further down the long hallway.
I double-backed to the car, but found it empty.
I circled the store, my frustration turning to panic as I shouted his name and still got no response.
I called his phone, it just rang, and rang before going to voicemail.
The car was locked and he had the keys, I couldn’t help but feel nervous, standing out there in the rain. We were still in the middle of the deep woods and with clouds obscuring the light of the moon and stars, the area was blanketed in darkness. I reluctantly headed back inside.
Somehow, the smell had managed to become even worse – I gagged when the wet, disgusting air hit my nose again. It was so strong I could nearly taste it, putrid on my tongue.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was always someone just behind me as I walked quickly through the tall aisles, but whenever I looked over my shoulder, there was never anything there.
I called his phone, wondering how I’d managed to lose him in such a small store when I finally heard it ringing – it was echoing from down that long hallway.
As I headed towards it, I heard someone moving on the other side of the floor-to-ceiling aisle, placing something onto the shelf with a sickening wet thud, before weaving lithely through the aisles behind me.
“Brian?” I called out softly, trying to convince myself that everything was fine – trying to disguise my fear.
I knew it wasn’t him – I don’t know how, but I knew it. Have you ever had the feeling that if you look closely enough at something, if you truly see it, you’ll never be able to close your eyes again without it haunting you? That feeling of being in close proximity to something that your fragile mind was never meant to know existed?
I forced myself to turn around anyways.
Once again, whoever or whatever had been there was gone by the time I rounded the aisle, but I heard a gentle clinking sound, and saw a trail of red-pink droplets.
I followed it back to that section – handcrafted from local artists, there was something new hanging from a hook near the shelves – wet, glistening strips dangled from along what looked to be a curved bone with bits of gristle still attached. From one of them hung an expensive men’s wristwatch, another was tied around a shattered, thick glasses lens. Yet another sagged under the weight of car keys. They gently swayed with the motion of having been recently placed. Fluid continued to drip from the still wet viscera and mingled with the mud on my shoes.
Shoplifters will be processed
I didn’t need to see the items down the other aisles to figure out what I was looking at, what must have happened.
I could already tell that we’d never have another argument, ever again.
I heard a door open and close in the back, soft footsteps approaching from down that hallway.
I realized that in my distraction, I'd forgotten to put money back on the counter.
I choked up, but knew there was nothing I could do for him. So, I tossed the first bills I found in my purse onto the floor, frantically untangled the car keys, and in shock, I drove myself the remaining four-hour drive home.
Every so often, along the quiet country roads – those I could've sworn were empty on the drive up – I’d see that grimy building, the sign, '-MART' flashing in the distance.
I didn’t stop once.
I've been home for a week now.
A few nights ago, something triggered a motion alert on my video doorbell, but there was no one there when I checked the footage.
The next morning, I found a cardboard box on my porch – with no stamp or return address.
In it was a torn t-shirt, and several of those now-familiar wrapped packages, putrid fluid leaking out of them through the bottom of the soggy cardboard.
I've received a similar box every night, since.
I don't know if it's meant as a threat, or if due to some sort of twisted interpretation – I’m now a 'paying customer’ – he's slowly being returned to me.
Either way, it turns out that I've gotten to see who Brian was on the inside, after all.
JFR

Divided We Watch
TLDR; Movie Review - Civil War
Whew! I just watched the movie, Civil War.
I have a lot to say, but don’t think I’ll be capable of unpacking it all articulately enough to express myself, without coming off as a disgruntled, far-right nutjob. Because I’m not one. If you must know, I’m only a touch right-of-center in my ideology. An Independent, to tell the truth. But nowadays, it seems, if the needle isn’t buried on the left side of the meter, you are officially a disgruntled, far-right nutjob.
But before you start grinding your molars and turning the page, hear me out.
Oh, and I’m going to try not to – but if a spoiler slips past me, you’ve been warned.
For starters, let me make clear that I am not fooled for a millisecond by the movie’s main intent. It is leftist propaganda at its finest. It’s the Nazi’s Triumph of the Will; Orwell’s 1984; and the Ku Klux Klan’s Birth of a Nation, all rolled into one, but with a fifty-million-dollar budget – the most expensive movie ever made by A24 Productions. There is a passing scene in the movie where actress Cailee Spaeny, playing Jessie, a bright-eyed, upstart photojournalist, while fawning over her idol, the legendary war photographer, Lee Smith, played by Kirsten Dunst, talks about the award-winning shot at “The Antifa Massacre” that made Lee famous. This seems to suggest Antifas are noble freedom fighters, but forgets the real life destruction of the Berkley Riots; the Portland Protests, and the Seattle Autonomous Zone, where a capital city was held hostage for nearly a month.
The movie’s release, hot on the heels of the 2024 Presidential election, was by design, not coincidence. You know it. I know it. We all know it. Hollywood wants this movie fresh in everyone’s minds when they go to the polls. The movie is a calculated foreshadowing. The message: “Elect the Orange Guy and this will happen to our country.”
The movie is Hollywood’s love letter to the Liberal elite and mainstream media’s wettest dream.
Some of the best war movies in cinematic history are those that portrayed a certain ambiguity about war, and humanized both sides and their causes. Just who was the Good Guy and who the Bad, was a little fuzzy, at times. Hell in the Pacific; Platoon; and Letters from Iwo Jima, come to mind. Civil War is not one of those films, even if it pretended to be by making its Dark Side an alliance of two regions of the United States that are about as ideologically compatible as AOC and MTG.
So, don’t think I’m fooled. I’m not. The movie is, indeed, all of the above. But let me tell you what else it is.
It’s the best movie I’ve seen in years.
The cinematography is breathtaking. The acting, superb. The action sequences, heart-pounding. Director Alex Garland paints with exquisite, horrifying detail what life (and death) would be like for us all if the United States of America tore itself apart from within. One brutal battle scene that really sticks with me, is set against the backdrop of a place that symbolizes the very essence of peace, love and happiness. The juxtaposition is jarring. But it is a very real reminder that there is no escape from the terrible ravages of war.
While I cannot deny there were times in the movie I found my slightly-right-of-center molars grinding – especially with its mocking portrayal of our nation’s leader and 50% of our country’s population – I could not dislike this movie. When the battle reached our nation’s capital and the tracer rounds were peppering the Lincoln Memorial, I literally felt sick to my stomach – and so profoundly sad to watch the desecration of a place I have always considered a sacred symbol of our Country. Though I could smell the popcorn in the air and knew it was only a movie, my heart broke at the realization that we Americans are a deeply divided People.
“Why?” I asked my wife as we pulled out of the parking garage on our way home (She hated the movie, by the way). “Of the millions and millions of smart, righteous, decent people in America, WHY are we stuck having to choose from these two? Isn’t there anyone out there who’s had enough of this bickering and this gridlock and these endless insanely costly, senseless Congressional hearings? Won’t anyone else step up to the plate?
Civil War is a great movie and I strongly recommend it. Beyond the thrilling entertainment it offers, it makes you stop and think long and hard about the perilous State of our Union.
We need to be Americans. Not Republicans. Not Democrats. AMERICANS. We need to build up, not tear down. To compromise. To get along. To be proud of our Country and be a Nation that is admired and envied by the rest of the world.
We need to heed the words of caution told to us 166 years ago by the kind of Leader that seems to have gone the way of the dodo.
“A house divided against itself cannot stand…”
What did you all think?

TLDR; Movie Review - Civil War
Whew! I just watched the movie, Civil War.
I have a lot to say, but don’t think I’ll be capable of unpacking it all articulately enough to express myself, without coming off as a disgruntled, far-right nutjob. Because I’m not one. If you must know, I’m only a touch right-of-center in my ideology. An Independent, to tell the truth. But nowadays, it seems, if the needle isn’t buried on the left side of the meter, you are officially a disgruntled, far-right nutjob.
But before you start grinding your molars and turning the page, hear me out.
Oh, and I’m going to try not to – but if a spoiler slips past me, you’ve been warned.
For starters, let me make clear that I am not fooled for a millisecond by the movie’s main intent. It is leftist propaganda at its finest. It’s the Nazi’s Triumph of the Will; Orwell’s 1984; and the Ku Klux Klan’s Birth of a Nation, all rolled into one, but with a fifty-million-dollar budget – the most expensive movie ever made by A24 Productions. There is a passing scene in the movie where actress Cailee Spaeny, playing Jessie, a bright-eyed, upstart photojournalist, while fawning over her idol, the legendary war photographer, Lee Smith, played by Kirsten Dunst, talks about the award-winning shot at “The Antifa Massacre” that made Lee famous. This seems to suggest Antifas are noble freedom fighters, but forgets the real life destruction of the Berkley Riots; the Portland Protests, and the Seattle Autonomous Zone, where a capital city was held hostage for nearly a month.
The movie’s release, hot on the heels of the 2024 Presidential election, was by design, not coincidence. You know it. I know it. We all know it. Hollywood wants this movie fresh in everyone’s minds when they go to the polls. The movie is a calculated foreshadowing. The message: “Elect the Orange Guy and this will happen to our country.”
The movie is Hollywood’s love letter to the Liberal elite and mainstream media’s wettest dream.
Some of the best war movies in cinematic history are those that portrayed a certain ambiguity about war, and humanized both sides and their causes. Just who was the Good Guy and who the Bad, was a little fuzzy, at times. Hell in the Pacific; Platoon; and Letters from Iwo Jima, come to mind. Civil War is not one of those films, even if it pretended to be by making its Dark Side an alliance of two regions of the United States that are about as ideologically compatible as AOC and MTG.
So, don’t think I’m fooled. I’m not. The movie is, indeed, all of the above. But let me tell you what else it is.
It’s the best movie I’ve seen in years.
The cinematography is breathtaking. The acting, superb. The action sequences, heart-pounding. Director Alex Garland paints with exquisite, horrifying detail what life (and death) would be like for us all if the United States of America tore itself apart from within. One brutal battle scene that really sticks with me, is set against the backdrop of a place that symbolizes the very essence of peace, love and happiness. The juxtaposition is jarring. But it is a very real reminder that there is no escape from the terrible ravages of war.
While I cannot deny there were times in the movie I found my slightly-right-of-center molars grinding – especially with its mocking portrayal of our nation’s leader and 50% of our country’s population – I could not dislike this movie. When the battle reached our nation’s capital and the tracer rounds were peppering the Lincoln Memorial, I literally felt sick to my stomach – and so profoundly sad to watch the desecration of a place I have always considered a sacred symbol of our Country. Though I could smell the popcorn in the air and knew it was only a movie, my heart broke at the realization that we Americans are a deeply divided People.
“Why?” I asked my wife as we pulled out of the parking garage on our way home (She hated the movie, by the way). “Of the millions and millions of smart, righteous, decent people in America, WHY are we stuck having to choose from these two? Isn’t there anyone out there who’s had enough of this bickering and this gridlock and these endless insanely costly, senseless Congressional hearings? Won’t anyone else step up to the plate?
Civil War is a great movie and I strongly recommend it. Beyond the thrilling entertainment it offers, it makes you stop and think long and hard about the perilous State of our Union.
We need to be Americans. Not Republicans. Not Democrats. AMERICANS. We need to build up, not tear down. To compromise. To get along. To be proud of our Country and be a Nation that is admired and envied by the rest of the world.
We need to heed the words of caution told to us 166 years ago by the kind of Leader that seems to have gone the way of the dodo.
“A house divided against itself cannot stand…”

We recently purchased a Stingray 182SC and I want my registration numbers/letter to match the Stingray font. The internet is not helping.
Any ideas of what this font is?
https://images.app.goo.gl/GGgwNKRcE15jAopMA

• A tarball for Linux would be nice because not everyone can run AppImages. For example, I'm currently running Void Linux and AppImages do not work because they require glibc in order to run and Void mainly uses musl.
  
• UI changes. Seriously. More neon green, less rounding, smaller UI elements on desktop, navbars with more options, a font change. At its current state, eSound looks more like a Spotify clone than its own thing.
  
• The ability to save tracks as normal MP3 files. Currently, when you save tracks, they can be played offline but only through the eSound app and they cannot be accessed by anything else. If you wanna transfer your downloaded music to other devices, or if you just wanna open them in another app, you're currently out of luck and I think that sucks.
  

I'm not a developer and I don't know how practical these would be to actually implement but I think they'd be cool to have.

We recently purchased a Stingray 182SC and I want my registration numbers/letter to match the Stingray font. The internet is not helping.
Any ideas of what this font is?

Round 1, Pick 8 - Michael Penix Jr., QB, Washington:
NFL: I’m not sure anyone expected Atlanta, which signed Kirk Cousins to a four-year, $180 million deal in March, to take a quarterback in the top 10, but here we are. Penix is a big-time playmaker who is the top deep-ball passer in this class. He has surgical precision and throws with good anticipation from the pocket.
CBS Sports: B-. They opted to take their quarterback of the future by taking Penix. He has all the tools, but will learn and wait behind Kirk Cousins. I wonder if he can rush the passer. Like the player, but don’t like the pick.
ESPN: Stunner. The Falcons pulled off the shocker of the first round, taking Penix earlier than just about every expert predicted. He was the fourth quarterback taken in the top 10. There's no doubt Atlanta saw something in Penix when watching him on tape and visiting him. The team sent a ton of staff to see him in recent weeks. Obviously, they felt comfortable with his durability, despite four season-ending injuries in college. Penix, a lefty, has an incredible arm, and from a skill standpoint, he's certainly right up there among the best signal callers on the board. And now he's the successor to Kirk Cousins.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Has devoted his life to the church of the flying spaghetti monster.
Round 2, Pick 35 - Ruke Orhorhoro, DT, Clemson:
NFL: Another trade, with the Falcons swooping up. And this is their second curious pick of this draft. Nothing against Orhorhoro, who has some intriguing skills and might be a better stat stuffer in the NFL than he was at Clemson. But with Johnny Newton on the board, this pick felt like a reach when you consider Atlanta's biggest need -- pass rush.
CBS Sports: B. Big, long, powerful interior rusher without many pass-rush moves. But his traits shine against the run and has enough explosion to win between gaps or with bull rushes. Expensive trade up though hurts his grade despite Falcons filling a need with quality prospect.
ESPN: The Falcons needed a pass-rusher, particularly an EDGE. Most of the impact players at that position went in the first round. Atlanta attempted to trade back into the late first, but weren't able to do so. Instead, the Falcons took Orhorhoro, a defensive tackle who has pass-rushing chops from the inside. Since 2021, Orhorhoro had 9.5 sacks lined up as a DT, which were tied for third in the ACC. The Nigeria-born Orhorhoro didn't start playing football until he was a junior in high school, so the Falcons probably like his upside.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: His bright green fanny pack when traveling is a must.
Round 3, Pick 74 - Bralen Trice, LB, Washington:
NFL: Trice was a consistent pressure source the past two years for the Huskies but had a rough pre-draft process when he shed a bunch of weight for the NFL Scouting Combine but failed to display better speed because of it. Trice was smart to bulk back up for his pro day because I think his game is predicated on winning with a combination of effort and surprising pop in his hands.
CBS Sports: A-. Bad testing hurt his stock but this is as productive of an EDGE as there is in this class. Slippery with pass-rush plans galore. Smaller than his listed weight and doesn’t have serious burst. Flashes of bend though.
ESPN: The Falcons got their pure pass-rusher and, boy, did they need it. This is a team that has had 18 fewer sacks than any other franchise in the NFL over the past three seasons. Atlanta's pass rush win rate was dead last in the league in 2023. Trice had 16 sacks over the past two seasons, which was tied for the fourth most among Power 5 players during that stretch. He's had 12 games with five or more pressures since the start of the 2022 season, which leads all FBS players. Trice played mostly outside linebacker at Washington and he had a reputation for being able to get to the quarterback.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Smells like Celestial Seasonings sleepy-time tea.
Round 4, Pick 109 - Brandon Dorlus, DT, Oregon:
NFL: Round 4 is for the Ducks. I haven't followed the Falcons' logic on every one of their selections this year, but I like Dorlus here. He can play multiple spots along the D-line and be a movable piece for Raheem Morris' unit.
CBS Sports: A-. Fun, twitchy and thick “tweener” who can literally win at any alignment along the defensive line. Isn’t the most sudden, nor the best with his hands but is so slippery between blockers. Overall athletic profile is impressive. Rushes can get too high, doesn’t play with much power. Can get washed out vs. the run. Has frame to add more weight.
ESPN: It was somewhat surprising the Falcons didn't take a cornerback here or even a safety. But the team is clearly and rapidly reshaping its defensive line, which already had quality veteran players in Grady Jarrett and David Onyemata. Dorlus is Atlanta's second straight defensive line selection. And Dorlus, who led Oregon with five sacks, is extremely versatile. He can play inside, as a defensive end or even outside linebacker. Pass-rushers were the Falcons' biggest needs and now they have three rookies who fit the bill after not taking a defender with the No. 8 overall pick as many expected.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Wants you to call your family and tell them you love and cherish them.
Round 5, Pick 143 - JD Bertrand, LB, Notre Dame:
NFL: An Atlanta native, Bertrand is a coach's dream in spite of his subpar length and injury history. He's instinctive and tough and carries a hard-hat mentality to work every day.
CBS Sports: C. So active, so smart. Always around the ball. Reads his keys in a flash. Block-avoider. Ascending coverage skill just minimal ball production at Notre Dame. High tackling numbers but also misses many.
ESPN: The Falcons are completely reshaping their front seven in this draft. In Bertrand, they not only get their second collegiate defensive team captain (Bralen Trice was captain at Washington), but also someone with significant physical tools. Bertrand was a three-year starter at Notre Dame, led the team with 76 tackles in 2023 and had 16 tackles behind the line of scrimmage this past season. He's also a former Eagle Scout and was a finalist for the Wuerffel Trophy for community service.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Prefers to code in Notepad with the wingding font.
Round 6, Pick 186 - Jase McClellan, RB, Alabama:
NFL: McClellan is a power back who runs with great toughness and exercises great ball security, fumbling only once in college on nearly 400 touches. But he's a one-dimensional runner on a team pretty loaded at running back.
CBS Sports: C+. Jack of all trades, master of none with minimal mileage on his legs. Will run away from some slower defenders but not a true burner. Receiving ability is there. Vision is a strength between the tackles. Elusive but not special in that regard. Classic scatback.
ESPN: The team needed a third running back behind Bijan Robinson and Tyler Allgeier, and that's presumably where McClellan will fit. McClellan was Alabama's primary starter for one year after returning in 2022 from a torn ACL. He ran for 890 yards on 180 carries with eight touchdowns this past season. McClellan, who's only 21, isn't flashy, but Atlanta has been taking upside and translatable physical attributes over flash this entire draft.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Kept calling the NFL at 800-635-5300 to complain about the refs.
Round 6, Pick 187 - Casey Washington, WR, Illinois:
NFL: A strong pro day helped solidify Washington as a draft pick. He looks like a solid, reliable possession receiver with natural route-running skills, but he's not special at any one thing.
CBS Sports: C. Good sized outside WR who plays with a throwback style. Jump balls, back-shoulders, etc. are his speciality. Good speed for his size too. Just doesn’t have the bend or suddenness to separate consistently.
ESPN: Depth at wide receiver was absolutely a need going into the draft, though it's still surprising the Falcons won't pick a cornerback until their final pick, if at all. Washington was sixth in the Big Ten in receiving yards during conference games (589) and finished his career with Illinois very strong -- 218 yards on nine receptions and three touchdowns against Northwestern back in November. Washington is 6-foot-2 and 200 pounds, and Atlanta did need size at the position. He'll be tied for the second tallest wide receiver on the roster after top wideout Drake London (6-4).
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Taught his goldfish to play fetch. Not the most exciting game but they’re happy.
Round 6, Pick 197 - Zion Logue, DT, Georgia:
NFL: Logue was a flash player for the two-time champion Bulldogs, often stuck behind a ton of talent in Athens. His length is outstanding, even if his production (1.5 sacks in 50-plus college games) isn't.
CBS Sports: C+. Big, long, thick SEC-tested DL with some above-average burst for his size and a pass-rush move every so often. Production never matched his size or athleticism.
ESPN: This draft, after all the controversy in the first round, was all about front-seven versatility and depth for the Falcons. Logue is a big body at 6-foot-6 and 314 pounds. And the team's fifth front-seven selection of the week. Atlanta has put a premium on length with its defenders so far and Logue has that to go along with his massive frame. The Tennessee native only started one year at Georgia, so he's relatively inexperienced with potential upside the Falcons are once again banking on.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Can eat twenty scones in a single sitting.

I'm struggling. My flair says reconciling, but it's on a low arc and approaching failure. Or maybe it's still false. I don't know.
Married 19 years, together for 25; two teenage children with severe emotional problems coming out of the pandemic.
D-Day was 16 months ago, the night before Thanksgiving. AP was literally an alcoholic unemployed late 40-something living in his mom's basement. They had met at a funeral she hadn't bothered to ask me to go because I wasn't leaving the bed in those days and I'd have said no. The night I discovered his clingy, mooning texts lamenting their inability to spend the holiday together, my life - already a terrible, depressive, lonely black hole of a mess and following the sudden, unnecessary death of a parent on Christmas Day - just imploded.
Upon confrontation after Thanksgiving dinner, the response was the worst in all ways possible. WW was high on limerence, and was fiercely unapologetic. She didn't want to separate but demanded an open marriage. She 'deserved to be happy', and felt good about her having told this unplanned encounter that went from EA to PA in 72 hours that she'd never leave me.
She had eschewed having intimacy for years before this. We had been poor to each other over the years, but I fell off a cliff after our kids faded from the world and my parent died. She was legit shocked and belligerent when I refused, and said that if you pursue this I will have to leave.
We made some temporary agreements (ones she did not keep), and started seeing a counselor. I started IC for the first time in my middle-aged life. We were however 'not aligned', as she'd say. She didnt want to give up her boyfriend, and I refused to stay if he was in the picture. I cringe to think back to how I said, 'you can maintain a friendship if you absolutely must but you must reinvest back into working on our relationship'.
This was a no-go for her for a while. She'd meet him. He'd sleep in her place of business. SHe lent him our car. (He crashed it while drunk, btw.) There was a moment when I had the kids in Puerto Rico, and she returned early for a funeral, and she went to the funeral with him and probably had sex after. Meanwhile I was stuck in an airport, trying to get home after a cancelled flight and just threw lots of money at the problem to curtail the time she had with him. She had in the three month relationship began introducing him to family friends, people who knew me.
With someone living a state away, she somehow managed to squeeze in more sex in 3 months than we'd had together in 10 years. In my mind, she was working on replacing me with AP but didn't want to separate for the sake of our kids.
Come January, she claimed to have decided to break things off. I didn't really believe her. I made a surprise visit to her place of business on a weekend, and found him there asleep on the couch with no pants on.
We had words, and despite being beside myself with rage and grief I was able to take his measure. In many ways, I wish I had met him right after D-Day. It was clear he was a narcissistic dumpster fire with pretensions of intellectuality. There were signs of some bipolar behavior. He made clear his intentions was to stay, and to convince WW to leave me. And he still had our car, and keys to her business site. (We live in a large city and don't need multiple vehicles, or even the one car if I'm honest.)
She realized where I was going due to my phone location and ran after me, but got there after I had 15 minutes with the joker. She asked him to leave, but still let him keep our car. She had no words, which has been a theme throughout our marriage. She can't easily access her feelings or articulate them, and she's afraid to express them for fear of my response. I told her after having met him, noted his instability and his intentions, i said I can no longer accept any contact between them. She reluctantly agreed.
From mid-January through to August followed a sequence of false representation of wanting to work on reconciliation and cycles of lying about not having contact. She was in love with him, she claimed, but seemed to go cold turkey overnight. She neither engaged with me nor took steps to reconcile, but claimed how difficult it was and that she was working on our relationship.
We quit the MC we started to see. We eventually found another several months later. We're still with the 2nd MC. In the meantime began a kind of surreal hellscape life for me, as she would say the barest of minimum things, and usually nothing at all about where she was, how she felt, and what was she willing to do to rebuild our relationship. She took no steps to reassure me, or show she wants me. She would say she did, but simultaneously be cold, distant, and - as i soon discovered - was still in contact with AP.
He gave her a burner phone. I found it within 2 days and threw the brand new phone into the river. Cheaters really need to not let unknown devices onto the home wifi networks of the technically literate. We had it out again, she promised to really try. A few weeks later I found unusual call patterns in our cell account. AP had provisioned a new phone number. Following that blow up was the WhatsApp phase, which really began to take the wind out of my sails.
She expressed no remorse. She was resentful of my 'intrusions into her privacy'. She genuinely thought it would be comforting to hear that the affair had nothing to do with me. She would be visibly annoyed when I asked for confirmations there had been no new contact - and even more so when in retrospect when there had been.
There were at least five discrete cycles of deception. AP escalated by getting five phone numbers and cycling through them. Towards the end, she had hid these numbers as secondary numbers of people they knew in common but didn't regularly have contact with. AP would write texts from the perspective of different personae.
Then there were the people who knew, and of those there were people who fully supported her behavior. There were people who aided and abetted it, lending her their apartments, or hoping she finds some comfort. One particularly egregious one, early on, tried to convince Amanda to really try to convince me to find someone else to be happy in an open arrangement. She's still in regular contact with this person.
The culmination of the PA/EA with the AP happened last summer. He eventually returned the car, but only after he had reclaimed it from the police impound lot. He did not pay for the repairs. Or his tolls when coming to and fro to fuck my WW. I did.
I had been fairly successful in identifying his phone numbers and having them blocked at the carrier level with some gaps in time, and diverting his email and voicemail. During ths period where all his means of contact were being closed soon after being opened, he was starting to rage and unstable. WW upon the latest confrontation (i was pretty calm and matter of fact about it) admitted she could not control her behavior, and didn't understand why she was doing it.
AP was a controlling person, with hints of WW's clinically narcissist parent. He wrote a letter and entered her business after hours to leave it. Because he wrote an email saying he was doing this, I ill-advisedly went there to call the police on him. I didn't find him, but I did find the letter. He knew I had been there - either he had been outside or he went back after I left - and complained bitterly about my interference.
His only means of influence had dropped to emails, and he just kept pounding with the short, imperative statements that described outcomes favorable to him. He had started to convince her that I was a threat to her, and trying to convince her I was a threat to our children (for whom I'd die in fire every day).
His tactical error was trying to play up his inability to contact her as a screen for concern. He tried to get the cops to perform a wellness check. He called WW's sister to convince her I was a threat, and that WW was in danger. (She told him off.)
Finally, he threatened to show up at our door with friends and 'free' her. I knew he owned a shotgun; while I didn't actually think he would show up (he had made smaller-scale threats of this kind before and I only realized they had happened days after his 'deadlines'.) I shared this new development with WW. We had agreed to handle it together. However, while I was out one day, she went to her sister's and called him to tell him she was fine but to never call or contact anyone in our family again. It was a muted, brief exchange. I was angry she hadn't stuck to our agreement.
Since then, he's only made a handful of contact attempts soon after the break that really were more for insulting me. I believe on an intellectual level they have had no contact since last summer. I emotionally continue to not feel safe about her intentions.
Since then, it's been difficult. There have been very limited conversation coming from her outside of the MC sessions, and those have trended light on her content. Very recently, she's expressed more. But it's still seemingly grounded in some unhealthy premises. Amongst them:

1. She at one pointed expressed she regretted the pain she caused, but doesn't regret the experience because (I kid you not) 'she learned so much about herself' and 'many positive elements have come out of it'. (I lost 50 pounds in the first three months post-Dday, and lately I've been hovering around 70. I did have it to lose, having used food to soothe myself over the decade of gaslighting and lack of explanation for her disengagement, and unwillingness to work on it.)
2. She continues to resent my intrusion into her phone call history. She disagrees with the oft-raised best practice of open-phone/account policies. Her feelings around her lack of privacy unsettle her, and get in the way of engaging (she says).
3. she doesn't see the value in 'forcing closeness'
4. she keeps wanting me to 'ratchet it down a notch', but it's not clear what she thinks that means
5. she finds my sadness and pain to be an impediment to rebuilding closeness
6. She claims to have read content about rebuilding marriages after infidelity, but to my knowledge she's done hardly anything to rebuild trust. I said it'd be better if you hadn't read it, because to think that you're walking around having read it but still don't do anything feels worse.
7. She has not taken lead in the reconciliation process, or really done much except endure my periodic/every-2-weeks or so expressions of disappointment and hurt and anger

I'm sure no one has read this far. This is my dilemma. What I'm trying to do here is leave no stone unturned in my efforts to save our marriage. I want to sleep well at night, and I won't be able to do that in a healthy way without going through this.
Yesterday wa the first time she said that he was responsible for destroying my world and my brain, several times over, with the elaborate deceptions (as I'm prone to describing it). I welcomed it and thanked her. But it was only precipitated by a conflict we were having about a mistake I made, where I rubbed her face in my phone snooping by adding unflattering profile pictures to the blocked contacts for the AP. (If they're not there, he could still call her and leave a voicemail when she's on wifi.)
She has had low to middling chronic health issues since April of last year, following her second round with COVID. And if it's not her, it's her parents. Or my surviving parent. Or my brother almost dying. Or the DOL is threatening to reclassify all her contractors as employees. (They should.) Everything just magically seemed to be prioritized over her talking to me.
It's literally, literally been something every other week. She's always tired, always in pain, and I really try hard to stay empathic about it. To hold a space for her. I have taken care of her when she's ill all throughout this horrible time. And she's really appreciative of how well I've supported and cared for her with no promise or signs of reciprocation.
But she still won't have sex with me, and wont talk to me about why she flinches sometimes when I touch her. Or worse, she fakes interest and then I find out otherwise later. Clearly, we have trauma to work through from before the affair. She's not intentionally being cruel. I've expressed remorse over what little she has hinted at, and want to make amends. I love her so much. It's always been my intent to die married to her, and hold our family together.
But it's getting harder to hold onto that empathy. I'm just so tired of feeling hurt, of not having my needs met, and feeling so deeply disrespected in this low-contrition (but maybe trending up) context we're living through.
She seems to evoke a sense in me that everytime I am hurt or express anger, her willingness or energy resets to near zero. Which in and of itself is newly infuriating!
My dilemma is that part of my tenacity in this ridiculous situation that saints would have left three times over already is tied to the idea that by sticking with it and not making it 'easier' for her I'm upholding my self-respect.
But am i? Am I just punishing her by saying I can't let go of my pain until she demonstrates remorse and effort? Being married, a husband and a father of simple small family is a big part of my identity.
It all went to shit a long time ago, but I never checked out. I just didn't understand what was happening, how a wife could treat their partner this way, and I didn't have the maturity or the emotional language to navigate it alone. So I grew resentful and depressed, and just low-level angry all the time. While she would just smile, and say nothing. In public, she'd be affectionate.
In private, it'd be back turned and motionless to my hunger for connection (and release). I turned inward. She, a very social, community-building gem of a human being, checked out and switched to Potemkin mode whenever anyone was looking. I felt like I was constantly being gaslit. Even when I tried to talk about our problems, she'd act as if I had said nothing at all. It was the damnest thing, and I had no words for it.
Maybe she's starting to see the light and be empathic to my pain. But, if that's what's happening, I'm just running out of steam and hope. Hope isn't necessary for me to stay the course, but motivation is beginning to lag.
Any advice?

Round 1, Pick 23 - Brian Thomas Jr., WR, LSU:
NFL: After the departure of Calvin Ridley in free agency, the Jaguars were determined to find a physical, fast receiver who could give them a vertical element in the pass game. They found it in Thomas, a stud who found the end zone 17 times last season for LSU. This is a big addition for Trevor Lawrence and Co.
CBS Sports: B+. This is a heck of a move for a team that needs another young weapon. He can fly and his best football is in front of him. Watch out for their offense in 2024.
ESPN: Thomas is one of the biggest (6-foot-3, 209 pounds) and fastest receivers in the draft (4.33 40-yard dash at the combine). His production in the SEC was elite in 2023: 17.3 yards per catch, 17 TD catches. He gives the Jaguars something they haven't had since Allen Robinson II (2014-17): Someone who can go up and get 50-50 balls and provide a big red-zone target. The Jaguars threw few end-zone fade routes the past several seasons, but that should change with Thomas, who had 10 TD catches on go or fade routes last season, the second-most in FBS to Rome Odunze.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Enjoys the Browns, Texans, and Vikings and this pick had it all.
Round 2, Pick 48 - Maason Smith, DT, LSU:
NFL: When I spoke to Smith last week, he made sure to highlight his workout with the Jaguars -- his final team visit -- as clearly his best. The Jags agreed. Smith has first-round tools but has been beset by injuries and a rotating cast of defensive coaches at LSU. His production is lacking, but his potential is downright exciting. If they're patient, the Jaguars might have something here.
CBS Sports: B-. Highly touted recruit who dealt with injuries and never quite met hype in college. Tall, sleek interior player who flashes that big-recruit talent at times just not ultra consistent. Won’t be limited athletically in the NFL. Rushes get far too high, which saps his power. Nice arm over but really his only move. Fills a need.
ESPN: The Jaguars needed to bolster their run defense, which faded down the stretch in 2023, and get younger on the defensive line. The 6-foot-5, 306-pounder can play inside as well as at defensive end, which gives the Jaguars some versatility along the front with Roy Robertson-Harris and DaVon Hamilton. Hamilton had a disappointing season in 2023 because of a back infection and he never reached the level he did in 2022, which earned him a contract extension. The Jaguars also released NT Folorunso Fatukasi this spring after two disappointing seasons, so adding depth along the defensive front was a priority.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: His record in the fuzzy bunny challenge is 19.
Round 3, Pick 96 - Jarrian Jones, CB, Florida State:
NFL: Measuring nearly 6-feet and running a 4.38-second 40-yard dash helped Jones' cause quite a bit. He has inside and outside experience but likely will be a nickel corner in the NFL. I thought he was a Day 3 prospect because of his short arms and long injury history, but Jones has gone up against talented receivers and won some battles.
CBS Sports: B. Taller than most nickel CBs but has requisite twitch and possesses the vertical juice to carry deep routes. Change of direction is very good but just not consistent. Tends to get his pads high when trying to ID the play, which saps his quickness. Unreliable tackler. Good ball skills and destroys screens on regular basis.
ESPN: The 6-foot, 190-pound Jones lined up primarily in the slot in 2023, so that's where he'll start with the Jaguars. The Jaguars signed CB Ronald Darby in free agency to play on the outside opposite Tyson Campbell. Head coach Doug Pederson said at the owners meetings that Darnell Savage Jr., whom they also signed in March, would be playing nickel, so Jones joins the rotation there along with Antonio Johnson. Jones has good speed (he ran 4.38 in the 40 at the combine) and has played outside at FSU at times as well, but the team has confidence that Darby can be the starter.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Rolex? Bulova? Omega? Patek Philippe? This man is CASIO all the way.
Round 4, Pick 114 - Javon Foster, OT, Missouri:
NFL: Foster has excellent experience at left tackle, and he looked facile at right tackle at the Senior Bowl. He's not an exceptional athlete but has good length, is patient in pass protection and can quietly get the job done. He's likely a swing tackle to start out.
CBS Sports: B+. College OT who has the frame to stay there but maybe not the overall athletic profile. Power and quick-setting skills shine. Can win ugly and importantly shows recovery skill. This is a smart investment. Just gets the job done on a routine basis.
ESPN: The Jaguars have only one offensive tackle under contract beyond this season (right Anton Harrison) so this was a position the Jaguars needed to address. Foster started 39 games at left tackle and two at right tackle at Missouri but he won't be asked to play in 2024 unless there are injuries to left tackle Cam Robinson and swing tackle Walker Little -- or the Jaguars decide to trade Robinson, in which case the 24-year-old Foster could become the swing tackle as a rookie.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Spends all day writing letters to bring back Club Penguin.
Round 4, Pick 116 - Jordan Jefferson, DT, LSU:
NFL: That's the third LSU player the Jags have selected, and the fourth SEC player. Jefferson is one of three Tigers DTs in this draft class, and he is a bull-strong battler inside. However, he might have to make it as an early-down run-stopper because of his lack of pass-rush juice.
CBS Sports: D+. Classic wide-bodied DT who thrives against the run. Thick frame. Block-shedding skills are well-developed but has no pass-rush plans. Active on passing downs just rarely gets home. Length is a plus and he’s an above-average athlete for a future NT. Not a bad player just limited and this feels early.
ESPN: Jefferson is the third LSU player -- and second on defense -- the Jaguars have drafted so far. It's clear the Jaguars are mining inside linebackers coach Matt House, who spent the past two seasons as LSU's defensive coordinator. The 6-foot-4, 317-pound Jefferson -- who played three seasons at West Virginia before transferring to LSU -- showed off his upper body strength at the combine by benching 225 pounds 34 times. The Jaguars' run defense faded in the second half of the season and played a major role in a season-ending loss to Tennessee -- Derrick Henry ran for a season-high 153 yards -- and the team cut nose tackle Folorunso Fatukasi in March so an upgrade along the interior of the defensive line was a priority in the draft.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: He has suffered from Ailurophobia for as long as he can remember.
Round 5, Pick 153 - Deantre Prince, CB, Mississippi:
NFL: Prince's speed gives him a chance, either as a corner or on special teams, but his lean, shorter frame could be problematic. He was a reliable contributor for the Rebels over the past several seasons.
CBS Sports: B. Outside CB with rockets attached his cleats. Can really run. Route-recognition skills must improve. High-effort type vs. the run but blockers devour him too often. Instinctive in coverage when everything is in front of him. Plays more athletically than his workout. With coaching can be solid pro.
ESPN: The Jaguars continue to add to the secondary with Prince, who lined up almost exclusively outside in college. He had six interceptions and 21 pass breakups in four seasons for the Rebels and one interception in one season at Northeast Mississippi Community College. He worked as a gunner on punt coverage as well, and his best chance to make an impact as a rookie will likely be on special teams.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Won’t eat bugles until after he’s had them on his fingers like claws.
Round 5, Pick 167 - Keilan Robinson, RB, Texas:
NFL: Three straight backs off the board. The Jaguars probably needed more RB depth, and Robinson brings top-shelf speed to Jacksonville. In a crowded Texas backfield, Robinson had to scrap for every offensive touch (156 total in 45 career games) he received. His meal ticket likely will be as a gadget-play specialist or gunner or jammer on special teams.
CBS Sports: C-. Played behind two studs at Texas but made the most of his minimal attempts. Has breakaway speed in a smaller frame. Not a very decisive runner who can win with his vision alone. Not ultra twitchy and elusive. Has some return ability. But this is too early for a developmental type.
ESPN: Robinson started his college career at Alabama and finished at Texans. He ran for 796 yards and eight touchdowns, but he has more value as a kick returner. He averaged 23.6 yards per kickoff return on 39 returns in his career. The Jaguars signed receivereturner Devin Duvernay to replace Jamal Agnew, but the new kickoff rule makes returners more valuable and teams may opt to put two returners on the field at the same time. He also covered kicks at Texas so this is a special teams pick for the Jaguars.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: The only thing worse than being drafted here is having to know TheFencingCoach.
Round 6, Pick 212 - Cam Little, K, Arkansas:
NFL: Our third kicker in a short span here. Little arguably has the best leg talent of the three and can hit all the way out to the 60-plus-yard range. But his inconsistencies (including at the combine) could make him a bit untrustworthy if he struggles in late-game situations.
CBS Sports: B-. Three years of 80-plus percent make rate on field goals in the SEC.
ESPN: Little is the most accurate kicker in Arkansas history, making 82.8% of his attempts (53 of 64) in his three-year career. He also never missed a PAT (129 for 129). He'll be the third kicker on the roster, joining Joey Slye and Riley Patterson, who kicked the game-winning field goal in the Jaguars' 31-30 victory over the Los Angeles Chargers in a wild card playoff game following the 2022 regular season. The Jaguars had agreed to terms with Denver kicker Wil Lutz in free agency but Lutz decided to return to the Broncos, so Little would likely be the favorite to win the competition with Slye and Patterson.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: He is excited to find out where the 36th NFL team is located.
Round 7, Pick 236 - Myles Cole, DE, Texas Tech:
NFL: Finding the right technique for Cole will be key, as he lacks the bulk to handle full-time interior duty, but his unusual traits (especially his length) make him a fun Round 7 dice roll.
CBS Sports: B. Absolutely enormous, freaky long EDGE. Moves well for his size but wasn’t overly productive in college. Has hand work but too often blocks stick to him. Does not deploy his length as an advantage. Has to add that to his arsenal.
ESPN: Cole's measurables at the combine were impressive: 36 7/8-inch arms (longest of any player) and a 7-foot-3 wingspan. He also ran a 4.67-second 40-yard dash, which is impressive for a 6-foot-6, 278-pounder. But his college production wasn't as impressive, with five sacks in six seasons (four years at Louisiana-Monroe and two at Texas Tech). He's a developmental project.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Thinks Sisko was, no IS, the best Trek captain.

Platform(s): web browser, it had its own website, It may have also been on additional sites but I know I played it on its own site.
Genre: Casual, it was a really light game, there was no specific plot as far as I'm aware, it may have been a creation style game like making characters or scenery, however I'm not certain it's been a long time so my memory is very foggy
Estimated year of release: I don't know exactly but it would've been before 2012 and I don't believe it would've been before early 2000s
Graphics/art style: 2d very cartoony a more light and cute aesthetic based game, It was very bubbly, soft and round kind of style, and the background was blue I'm fairly certain it was underwater but it may have been a sky, or it could have swapped between the two. I know that it was a light blue background and the game name was mid-upper screen in a large white bubble letter font very similar to the Poptropica font with the blue shadows and outlines but rounder.
Notable characters: all the characters were animals I don't remember there being any humans they were all just little cartoon animals, and I don't remember if you really played as a character or not
Notable gameplay mechanics: unfortunately I can't solidly remember anything about the gameplay itself, I only remember the overall style of the game and the introduction
Other details: it was a game I would play in school so there is a small chance it may have been educational however I don't think it was I'm pretty sure it was just one of the few approved non educational games, there's a chance it's an obscure Canadian game but I haven't been able to find anything about it, so it could also have been taken down, I just remember playing it between sometime between 2012ish to 2015. I remember when you go into the website the loading screen background is completely blue (a bit of a darker blue) with the white bubble font, but part of me wants to say the words were kind of cloud shaped if that makes sense. Then when It loaded it still had the name of the game in the upper part of the screen and the lighter blue background with little cartoon animals under it. Possibly relevant I want to say that the name may have been related to the words bubbles/clouds/creatures/animals/pets but that may be just words my brain is thinking are relevant just because of the style of the game.
If anyone happens to have any idea what It might be I'd appreciate it, I apologize if none of what I said makes sense I can attempt to clarify if needed, it's just a game that I occasionally remember and it's nostalgic, it just bothers me that I can't remember it.

As the world faded away into nothing but a dark void, Tom felt the only mildly familiar sensation of magic flowing like a gentle stream. It wasn’t much of a draw, but it was certainly noticeable.
“Right, best make this quick then,” he tried thinking to himself, feeling the flow peak as he did.
“Who is this? Make what quick?” an ethereal sounding female voice replied. It did sound a bit like how he remembered Joelina sounding. Though she did not exactly sound calm.
“Uhm… Hello? Anyone there?”
“Yes hello. Who is this? What must be done quick? Answer me at once!”
“It’s Tom… Is that you, Joelina?”
“Yes of course it is! Stupid dragons taking ages, I have questions for you! So many questiiioooonssss...”
“Yeah I figured that… Fire away I suppose.” Tom replied a little uncertainly as to just what he might be in for.
“Firstly! Did you read the letters?”
“I did yeah…”
“Disregard them, I have learned much since they were written! So much more yes, cursed blessed knowledge…”
“So you do know we have gone to space then?”
“What? No, I re-experienced the memory you had of the movie about the moon mission. It was evident on the second watching that it was trickery of the eye! Spaceflight is but a myth!”
“Riiight.”
“Then how have your kind visited space? And what of the gods above!? it was evident that the woman with the crystals was but a fraud!” Joelina explained with all the calm and restraint of a shoppingmall Karen
“Well the rockets to the moon, that did happen.” Tom attempted, doing his best to remain calm and diplomatic. “The movie you saw was probably a recreation… Tell me, did things go wrong on that trip but they made it home anyway?”
“Yes, do you know of what I speak? Ahr what am I proclaiming! of course you do it is your own memories, how could I forget.”
“Yea…, you watched a movie about Apollo 13 I think. Good movie, and that all happened too. Like for real happened”
“I see…” Joelina replied, sounding rather unstable. “And what of the gods?”
“We ain’t got any. Well not in space at least.”
“Impossible!”
“No, quite possible. Many still believe in gods though, but let’s not get into that too much. It’s a right old mess.”
“No, you must tell me what happened to the gods? Have they left you?”
“Well some think so, but no. I just think it all works a bit different for us. They might be a little more hands off.”
“But the churches… and these religious warriors you did battle with,” the inquisitor all but muttered to herself, sounding like she was struggling to put pieces together. “Do Jesus and Islam fight for power then? no no, they would have long since lost the battles to the ancient gods of war the teachers spoke of… though why they were always naked eludes me yeeees…”
“No, again we don’t really have gods just floating around... Could we please talk about something else? Or is that all you wanted to know?” Tom tried, hoping he really didn’t have to dive deeper into that particular subject.
“No no don’t you dare cut me off! I have seen what you talked of, nuclear fire and missiles, ships of the oceans and planes soaring in the skies. But is it not all fake? Surely it must be! It must be? It must be…”
“I don’t know what you saw… but we have ships sailing around. If you’ve ever seen flying ships like you have here then that’s fake I can assure you of that. We do have airships, but they look more like really big long balloons.”
“But we could make such vessels, or someone could from times past. If you can visit the moon then surely you can make a ship for the skies!”
“No no, we ain’t got grav oil. Or dragon essence as I guess it’s called. That means no anti gravity, and that means weight is a very very big problem for anything you wanna make fly. Planes and helicopters are how we fly. Remember how I flew to Afghanistan on a big ass plane? Or when I learned to parachute later?”
“What is parachute? is it the ham from your times doing, vacationing? what has dried meat products got to do with flying machines of battle!”
“Wooo easy now easy. I guess you didn’t get that far yet. Uhm. It’s a cloth kite you dangle from and then glide to the ground. Very good fun.”
“A cloth kite used to fly?... such strange inventions. Wait was there not a movie of with something of that nature? yeeee… there was a song. I liked that song… something something brains upon his chute. Yeesss…”
“Yeah… You’ll know it when you see it. I have one actually.” Tom clarified trying not to get too weirded out.
“You must demonstrate on a suitable occasion.”
“Yeah… I do have a question too though,” Tom replied, letting silence reign for a short time. “...Your last letter was in Danish.”
“Oh, uhm yes. I- I was having some difficulty separating what was real and what was not… I still am. Do not tell Glazz, she musten know the truth yet. She seeks to limit my excursions.”
“You’ve ended up like I did, have you?”
“No no no, the effects do indeed recede as expected, everything is in good order… But I had to know more. So so much moooore.”
“Maybe you should cool it a bit. You never know when a brain snaps. Or how,” Tom tried, confident his advice would be ignored.
“There is not time!”
“And why is that? How is it going in our beloved Inquisition?”
“Mind your tongue, human! Things are progressing, but so are our enemies. Infiltrators have been caught, traitors within our ranks are making their moves. The reemergence of Rashan, attacks on mines, keeps and a daring heist attempt at a Royal Guard fortress! The game is afoot, we cannot delay.”
“You can’t overreach yourself either. Weren’t you supposed to be winning over the rest of the inquisition right about now? Can’t do that as a gibbering mess.”
There was silence for a while more after that. “Glazz sent you a letter? What did it say?! You may not keep secrets from me- wait not… I should confiscate her arm… she cannot write with her left. Yes far better plan, avoid upsetting him. And fill her pen with invisible ink. Yes very good.”
“No, it’s just obvious to any idiot. But what about winter, won’t things slow down?”
“They should, yet as autumn progresses it has only been picking up. I hope they too are running out of time… But time for what? I must know what they are planning. They might be behind schedule. But what SCHEDULE! sorry…”
“Well you’re not gonna find the answer to that in my memories, now are you?”
“You were sent by someone. You are here for a purpose. I must know this purpose. It will help me understand. The puzzle is large and much of the box kept from me.”
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m here to help you guys get in gear. That’s a decades to centuries long sorta problem, not a couple of years. Sounds like this war will be in the couple of years category.”
“Then why now? Why did you arrive now?!”
“Shitty luck? Sounds like 10 years ago would have been a lot better… Oh on that note, did you hear? We found something down below.”
“No, Paulin would have told me.”Joelina dismissed, he could almost feel her turning her snout up and away from him.
“Well we opened the vault like 3 days ago,” Tom replied, quite surprised Paulin hadn’t said anything. “Wait yeah she can send you messages, no? She sent the message about what we wanted to buy too, didn’t she?... How did she do that by the way? Why didn’t you just have her ask me questions?”
“That is not for you to know, and this is not for her.”
“Really? More secrets still? Come on, tell me or I’ll let you think flying whales exist.”
“I know those are not real. If they were, you would have harvested them long ago! likely for some deranged snack… or facial decoration.”
“True, but you get the idea,” Tom persisted, feeling like this was something worth pushing for. Why would Paulin not have let her precious Joelina know?
“Very well. This does not leave your mind… In the name of, what was it called… camaraderie. Paulin is in possession of joined paper. Messages may be written down and read by anyone with similarly joined paper. Unsecured. Originally believed to be fore love letters… dastardly studs and wenches using perfectly good magic for such trivialness… simply tie the message to a rock and throw it though the window. Most peasants cannot even afford glass” Joelina trailed off, seemingly zoning out once more.
“You have magical paper that can relay written information… and you don’t fucking use it!?” Tom explaimed, not quite believing what he was hearing.
“No, we do not know how to make freshly bonded paper… only more linked to all other paper in existence…” Joelina agreed. He could almost feel her looking at the floor in shame. “But it is not as if you are infallible, why did you not bring one of these radios?”
“I uhm…”
“Why didn’t you?!”
“I forgot,” Tom admitted, thinking back to his packing days. Of all the things that could have proven useful, that one might have been his biggest blunder.
“For the love of all that is holy! You are our saviour?!” Joelina scolded, understandably so, but still.
“Hey I never claimed to be smart!”
“I have lived your dreams. That is a lie! You very much claim to be smart!”
“Fuck off, I know you are just a scared little insecure girl.”
“She died 30 years ago!”
“Well I haven’t gotten to that bit yet!”
“What in the devils do you mean?” Joelina questioned calming right down in a fraction of a second.
“I’ve only had like three proper dreams about you… wait no, not like that,” Tom blurted out as it clicked just how wrong that sounded. Joelina didn’t seem to care in the slightest though.
“Three? That is it!?” going right back to outrage.
“Yeah… Wait, how many have you had?” Tom questioned. He rather wanted to know just how much she might know about him in addition to the memories she had already picked through when inside his head.
“Several a day!” the inquisitor exclaimed in reply.
“Okay, I can see how that would drive someone a bit mad.”
“I am not going mad!”
“Did Glazz say the same thing?” Tom questioned, quite certain he was striking a nerve.
There was no reply for quite some time, Tom feeling the headache growing as things grew tranquil once more. He could feel his breath. It was rapid, and his heart was pounding. He probably shouldn’t do this for much longer. Thus he endeavored to break the silence.
“You probably should listen to her you know.”
“No! These matters are above her station!”
“Hasn’t she been in the Inquisition longer than you?”
“She has yes. But she is no inquisitor. She is a body guard.”
“Seems like she is a wee bit more than that,” Tom pushed on. He didn’t yet know how those two came to stick together, but it was clear they had been working together for decades by now. All the way since she was assigned to Harvik
“Mind your own matters, human.”
“Very well, don’t think I can keep this up anyway.”
“We have barely been chatting! Where do the dogs come from?!”
“Selective breeding for thousands of years. But I’m gonna go. Take a break, do what Glazz says… even if Jacky hates her.”
Yet more silence followed that, though it was brief and Joelina was the first to speak again.
“Fine! In the interest of cooperation I shall let you rest. Wear the earring at all times, I shall be contacting you again soon.”
“I think I’m gonna be the judge of that. I’ll put it on when I feel like it.”
“You will do as I say!”
“You need a nap and a bit to calm down. I’ll give you three days. Around noon. See yah… How do I get this thing off?”
“I’m not telling you,” Joelina grumped like a little girl. She really didn’t seem quite like herself at all today. She had been the spitting image of restraint and arrogance before. The arrogance was still there, but the restraint had certainly gone.
“Come on, do I just try to cut off the magic or is that a bad idea?”
“If you answer a question I might answer.”
“Right then… Gimme gimme gimme aaaa-”
“JUST CUT IT! Farewell!” she called out loud enough Tom’s head pulsed and then there was blissful silence once more.
“Hehe. That did the trick, right concentrate on that funny feeling aaan-”
__________________________________________________________________________________
After dinner had been rounded up, Dakota had given a brief address as to some of the news received. There wasn’t much that hadn’t already made the rounds at the tables during the dinner itself. The war had been expanding, recruitment had started in full in the cities, and if not for the rather special situation at Bizmati they could have expected their banners to get called by spring.
Rumors had it that the kingdom was preparing itself for counterstrikes the following spring, which meant training through the winter for many volunteers.
“And a lot of not so volunteers,” Fengi muttered as Dakota carried on with the address.
“You can say that twice. At least the street rats might get something to eat and a place to sleep,” Tirox the trader escort added.
“I suppose that is true. Not a bad deal in winter time… I might even have taken it.”
“But we must instead keep our minds on our home,” Dakota carried on, talking to the whole hall. “There can be no mistake, we will be a target. We will be ready. They are getting bolder by the day it seems. It is not impossible they may attempt to take our keep before the winter comes. Or perhaps they will be waiting for spring. It is equally clear their forces are spread thin. We will weather such assaults, I have no doubt. But we must keep training. We must keep vigil. We cannot afford to be surprised or outmatched. I know you will all do your best. And tonight, we have no less than 4 dragons here. So breathe easy, have your snacks and your drinks. If the weather holds soon we will be finished with the warehouse and then we may make final preparations for winter. It is sure to be an interesting one for once.”
The hall replied with a half-discordant cheer, not overly enthusiastic unlike what Dakota had likely envisioned. The talk of them possibly getting attacked even before the snow came wasn’t really that encouraging. But Dakota tended to speak her mind, and she was probably right. Bizmati keep would be a damn tough nut to crack. And to Dakota’s credit she did seem to recognize she hadn’t really managed to rile them up.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she tried again in a slightly more humorous tone. “Eat, drink, and have fun! And put those tables together, don’t want you brooding in your corners.”
That did get a bit more of a reaction, as well as some good humored chuckles. People started getting up and set about moving the tables closer together.
It was a little rude to split up their guests in the same way as they normally did. Saph carried one of the benches over to the new spot, glancing around for any sign of Maiko, but there was no sign of him anywhere.
Feeling a little miffed, she sat down with the others as Ray came back with one of the small kegs of cider looking very excited. “We should have a taste, right?”
“Oh yes please!” Pho called out, Essy giving her a slight slap on the wrist.
“This one is only for those who paid for it. You will have to do with whatever you bought. Or the ale I’m sure they intend to serve.”
“Aww man. Not even a sip?”
“Okay, maybe a sip,” Essy relented. “Oh, I should get Koko his gift.”
“You got him a gift?” Saph questioned with mirth in her voice.
“Of course, that is what people do for each other… you did get Maiko something, right?”
Saph felt her expression slip a little as she prepared to disappoint their chief people person. “No, not really…”
“All that money and you didn’t get him shit? That’s cold girl,” Pho laughed, clearly finding it hilarious.
“Oh shut up, not as if I got something for Unkai either,” Fengi added, springing to Sapphire’s defence, though it seemed like the delivery had Fengi second guessing herself as well.
Esmeralda did look a little saddened by the news, but she was far too nice to say anything. Tirox however had no such filter.
“Oh don’t worry about it, just gotta go with a different sort of gift.” The diminutive guard laughed heartily at his joke. Udanti found it quite funny as well, and Pho certainly loved it. Bo just shook her head a little and went back to a small puzzle of some sort she had been working on, on and off, for most of the dinner by now.
“So uhm… One mug each?” Ray questioned, having been left hanging at the keg.
“Oh yes sorry, just the one, this stuff is expensive,” Saph replied, holding out her mug, Ray pushing it back down.
“One moment.” And she produced a wooden mallet and one of the metal taps. It looked like one of Raulf’s, so it was probably old as faded dragonscales.
Ray gingerly placed it against the cork and raised the mallet as the table fell silent in anticipation.
With a whack the tap went in clean with hardly a drop spilled, and Ray breathed a visible sigh of relief. “Right there we go.”
There was a quick round of cheers from the table, and Ray started pouring servings.
“Oh got yours open, have you?” the voice of Balethon came as the guard came walking up to the table, mug in hand and lizard on shoulder. “You all know we are gonna have to work out who got the better stuff, right?”
“Oh does it always have to be a competition with you, Balethon?” Saph questioned. She had just wanted to enjoy the cider.
“Look who is talking… And yeah of course we do! Just think of the bragging rights.”
Ray didn’t look too thrilled, nor did any of the girls who had actually paid for the keg. The rest of the table seemed to think it was a brilliant idea, even as Balethon’s voice carried and heads started to turn as people started to mingle between the now closely together tables.
“I’ll be the independent adjudicator!” Tirox declared, not receiving much attention as the full mugs started to get passed around. “Oh come on. I’ll be fair!”
“Shut it pipsqueak, you’ll end up taking 10 rounds of tastings before you make up your mind,” Udanti scolded, though in good humor.
“I might…” the guy relented, looking to Balethon. “Ey, by the way. Did you teach the brainlet any tricks?”
“Sure, Skitters can do a few things.”
“Aside from chasing the food?”
“You know what I think he might yeah,” Balethon replied sarcastically, gently tapping the static lizard twice on the head. The lizard didn’t do much save skitter about on his shoulder to face Balethon’s head, one eye pointing in whichever direction.
‘That thing just looks so dumb,’ Saph thought to herself as Ray handed her a mug. “Oh thank you.”
“Okay, Skitters. Up,” Balethon went, raising a claw into the air as if he wanted the lizard to jump. Or perhaps stand up. “Up… come on.”
There was no reaction from the lizard aside from it jerking to the left a bit, possibly having spotted a fly or something.
“Weeeell obedience might need some work,” Udanti chuckled. “Have you tried with some food in your hand?”
“Sure, then he just tries to eat the hand. Come on, Skitters. Up!” Balethon tried again, doing the gesture once more. And this time the little lizard jumped into the air. The little legs stretched out, taking its pitiful excuse for wings with it, and it half-fell half-glided to the floor where it hit with all the grace of a 6 year old on his first lesson. The slightly fat lizard bounced once, then rolled over twice before coming to a stop, looking around confused.
“Aaayyy! That’s a good boi,” Balethon went, going to pick it up again before someone stepped on it or it ran off under the tables. “And now you get a treat.” True to his word Skitters was fed a small piece of something or other which it seemed quite happy to snap up.
Fengi leaned in to whisper to Saph. “Was that the trick or did it just get sick of staying there?”
“I have no idea,” Saph replied, holding up her mug. “Cheers though.”
“Cheers,” Fengi replied as they clinked mugs.
“Oh hang on now, wait for me,” Essy protested as Ray finished pouring her mug and started on her own, looking to the girls as she questioned “Oh, also what about Jacky? Should we wait for her?”
“Who knows how long that will take?” Fengi replied, holding her mug impatiently.
“I’m sure she won’t mind. She is with Tom. We’ll let him have a mug as well,” Essy added with a reassuring nod, looking up to the high table. “Oh but we are missing Lin!”
“Oh right yeah she paid too… I can’t remember, did Edita chip in?”
“I don’t think so,” Sapphire replied, shaking her head as Essy got up to go fetch Linkosta. Balethon decided to take her place, a big grin on his face.
“So what else is going on over here?”
“Oh not much, hellooo little guy,” Pho went, trying to give skitters a scritching. In exchange he tried to eat her finger. “Oh… I mean I guess it doesn’t hurt.”
“Oh yeah, he can’t hurt a fly… well he can, but nothing more.”
“Shame he won’t get any bigger either,” Udanti added, nodding sagely. “Would have made a good rat hunter.”
“Nah… toe hunter though. Also where is the ale at?”
“Oh Raulf and Wiperna are getting ale and some of the bubble beer.”
“What is bubble beer?” Udanti questioned, tilting her head.
“Oh you’ll love it,” Saph interjected, waiting patiently as she saw Essy and Linkosta returning to the table out of the corner of her eye. “It’s an ale but it’s all fizzy.”
“Riiight… I’ve heard of fizzy beers before.”
“Oh yes, but this one is so much more fizzy.”
“It’s light and almost springlike.”
“Light ale? You mean for kids?”
“No no no. Just trust us it’s good.”
“Right right, I trust you,” the archer replied, looking to Essy and Linkosta, who seemed to be looking for a place to sit. “Should we not just put two end to end rather than this scrunching up business?”
“Yeah we should… Right get the craftsman table over here then. We don’t wanna have to smell the guards,” Saph called out, holding up her mug.
“Hey! That was uncalled for,” Balethon protested as Ray passed a mug to Linkosta. The girls all raised their mugs and had a sip, not willing to wait any longer. They all smacked their chops a little, looking down at the golden liquid. It was slightly fizzy too… and it tasted like the brew of the gods themselves. Ray was looking at them all visibly tense with anticipation and perhaps a twinge of fear.
“Ray… You have not disappointed,” Saph declared, nodding her approval, a smile creeping onto her face once more.
“Oh this is the best drink I think I’ve ever had,” Fengi added, taking another gentle sip.
Ray looked visibly relieved, her expression changing to one of ecstasy as she too took a sip herself. “Oh it’s even better than I remember. I’m glad you liked it.”
“Like it?! I love it!” Fengi cheers, Essy giving an appreciative nod to Ray before looking to Lin.
“Sooo?”
“It’s very good… Do you think we could try and cool it down a little? Imagine this cold.”
“It is often served cold, yes,” Ray confirmed, nodding her assent.
“I’ll go get the powder!” Saph called out, getting up. “I have got to try that.”
__________________________________________________________________________________
The strange ethereal world that had seemed so all-consuming started to quickly fade. Holes grew as light and reality started seeping in, sounds and noise starting to build around him. “Oom-Tom… Tom, are you okay?” came the familiar voice of Jacky as his eyes shot open and he blinked a few times as he returned to reality proper.
“Yeah yeah, I’m here… That is trippy, but hey, I think it worked.”
“How many fingers?” Jacky questioned, holding up her hand.
“4. Clear as day.”
“Pheeew. Okay look around, anything strange?”
Tom obeyed, sitting up a bit straighter and glancing about the room. “Nnnnn, nope all good. Just like last time I used one of these.”
“Right, good. Now what did she say?”
“Oh a bunch of stuff… mostly we chatted a bit about how she’s going a touch mad. Even Glazz thinks she’s falling apart at the seams apparently. She was also not happy I wanted a break.”
“Oh don’t tell me you have to do this every day from now on?”
“I said she had 3 days to get ready to try again. Hopefully she’ll have her case worked out by then.”
“Here’s to hoping… also how is your head? Does it hurt?”
“A bit, it’ll go away I’m sure.”
“Right,” Jacky replied, looking at him skeptically. “If it gets worse, tell me. But dinner was served a while ago I think. And I’m hungry.”
“Me too, let’s go.”
__________________________________________________________________________________
Well then, Joelina got her chat. She seems fine... I am sure she will continue to be a steadfast ally, within the walls of the inquisition for many weeks to co- I mean years, definetly years.
As always I hope you enjoyed the chapter, if not you know who to blame. I promise I won't cry to much if you tell me what was wrong... I promise.
Not really any news, other than fuck me I'm a busy boi, luckily I found the time to keep up with the writing yet, hopefully things will quet down soon so I can get back to begin a bit further ahead.
Untill next time, take care
Wiki and Art Gallery If you can't remember who someone is, want to read any of the side stories of fanfiction, or you just wanna watch some of the cool art that's been made for the story. Patreon If you want to help get more cool shit made consider joining the Patreon, you also get chapters two weeks ahead of time. HoH Subreddit if you want more stories from the HoH universe or are interested in writing something for this funny little world. Discord if you wanna have a chat about the story or just hang out First Previous

During the course of my career as an alpha Sasquatch hunting, Dogman destroying, pussy crushing, luxury watch loving dude, I have run into this particular woman a few times. She is one part uber sensuality, and the other part deadly. Yes, I am speaking about the lovely, Anna Conda. I bring her up because I had another run-in with her last year.

Anna and I first joined forces, so to speak, when she acted as a go-between in my business deal with the Chinese to sell them bigfoot parts. See, I would hunt and kill the critters, cut them up, deliver the parts to Anna, who in turn gave me a suitcase containing unmarked American hundred-dollar bills, then she would transport the bigfoot parts to the Chinese. I was never really sure of what the sneaky-ass Chinese were doing with the body parts. All I knew for sure is that they are extracting certain materials from them, then synthesizing them with some other shit, creating some sort of drug. Whether it then becomes a bio-weapon or a dick stimulant, I do not know. Neither do I care. As long as they kept the hundies coming, I was good.

Now, while Anna is of Russian descent, she is a freelancer. She will work for any sick, skeevy motherfucker out there. She does not care. She has no conscience, at least not in the traditional sense as we understand it in western civilization. Today she is working for the Chinese, and tomorrow she may be working for Hamas. She is a slippery motherfucker.

So here is how it went down. At 11:32 p.m. on a Friday in September of last year I get a call on my cell phone. When the call came in I was balls deep into this hot little lass I picked up at the bus station a little earlier in the evening from an old swarthy chap named “Colorado Joe”. He wanted to sell me the girl. I was assured she was over 20 years old. I told him I needed to take her out for a test ride, which he agreed to.

So, there I was, balls deep in “Bing Bang Yun”, and my phone rings. Of course, I silence all incoming calls not in my contacts list. Thus, I knew that I must know the caller. In mid stroke I reached over to the nightstand to retrieve my cell and looked at it. It was a call from “Sergio”. I thought, “Oh shit…. I am going to have to cut the Oriental bang circus short.” When Sergio calls, I have to respond…immediately. He has the best blow on the east coast!!

“Hey, Serge! What’s up?”, I asked. All he said was, “Hooters. 2:00 a.m.”, then hung up. This was obviously the rendezvous for the transaction. Now, understand that Serge was not talking about the chicken wing restaurant. Hooters was code, in case the feds were listening in on the line. “Hooters” meant the titty bar out on Highway 69 called “The Plump Rump”. We had a communications code we used.

It was a long haul to the titty bar, so I needed to get moving. I had no time to return the girl to Colorado Joe, so I took her with me. I had her blow me on the way to the meeting with Sergio, telling her that her performance would make the difference on whether I save her from Joe or not. Of course, after she was done I tossed her out of my speeding truck and down, over the bridge, and into the Wendigo River below. I did not need any complications in my life right now.

I arrived at The Plump Rump at 2:00 a.m. on the dot. I saw the manager, Lou Skunt, sitting at the bar when I walked inside. I nodded. He walked over and said to me, “Use my office for the meeting The parties are already in there waiting for you.” I nodded and then headed to Lou’s office. Then it hit me: Lou said the “PARTIES” are already here. That is, parties, meaning more than one person. It was not just Sergio. It was 2 or more people! Lou was probably in for a cut of whatever was about to go down.

Something was bad fucked up!! I know for a fact that Sergio never brings anyone with him on a deal, at least not with me. He is too distrustful of people to do that, and too fucking mean to need protection. Something was wrong. I was just as likely to get whacked when I enter Lou’s office as anything else. I needed a moment to think things through.

I took a spot in front of one of the performance poles to watch a young, swarthy Mexican lass perform. My mind quickly strayed from the problem at hand to this brown chick’s ass and tits. She was not a great looking chick, but her body was smoking!! I quickly became aroused. I thought to myself, “Goddamn Asian bitches!! They are just like Chinese food – after 2 hours you are ready for some more!!”

When the little Mexican chick went on break I motioned her over to my table. “Hola Senior!!”, she said. I pulled out a clear plastic baggie of blow and dropped it on the table. Her eyes grew wide and slobber starting falling from her mouth. Blow is like catnip for strippers. Thus, she fell under my spell immediately.

The next thing I know, this brown girl was on my lap, dry humping me like a feral bitch dog in heat. I had to bang her. I NEEDED to see my wang penetrating her. Just then, someone taps my shoulder hard. I look up to see Lou standing over me. He bent down and said, “Did you forget about my office, asshole?!?!?!” I replied, “Damn, Lou!! You read my mind!!!” I arose, with the little Mexican bolted onto my mid-section, and hastily retreated to Lou’s office. I figured Lou would prefer me to stain this chick in private rather than out in the open.

The door to the office opened easily. The lights were on inside. In a lustful haze, I set the little Mexican chick on her back across Lou’s desk and started pumping the shit out of her, completely unaware of the others in the room with us. In a moment I heard someone call my name. I twist my neck around to see Sergio sitting on Lou’s jizz crusted couch. I think to myself, “Oh shit! I forgot about that shit!”

I figured I would just move forward with the deal as it was proposed to me. “Hey Serge! What ya got for me, dude?”, I asked. He replied, “I have a very special deal for you. I need, uh … yeah, ……Hey, Rod, you want to stop for a moment so we can talk?” I picked up the little tamale and laid her down onto Sergio’s lap as I continued to plow her. She stayed on my cock the whole time. I told Sergio, “No, man. I’m good! Lay it on me!” Slowly, Sergio lowered his face into his palm.

Then it happened. The voice cam from behind me, in the dark corner of Lou’s office. It was velvety yet hard as steel. “Rod. Went need to talk”, it said. Even though I did not stop pumping the little brown chick, a chill went down my spine when I heard those words. It was the thick timbre of the voice, I think, that alerted me.

I turned to look across the room. There, sitting in a red leather captains chair against the wall was the source of the sultry voice: Anna Conda.

I picked up the little taco yet again and turned her around so I could face Anna as I continued pumping her. At this point the Mexican girl was merely a masturbation toy I was using. I increased my pump so I could dump my load and get this over with. Then BAMM!!!, it was over. I removed the lass from my huge rod, after which her body crumpled to the floor. I did not know if she was dead or injured, or what had happened to her. But I did not care either, so I did not dwell on it.

I tried to compose myself the best I could, then walked over to stand before Anna so I could get to the bottom of all this business. “Well, well, well. Anna Conda. We meet again. Tell me, what brings you here, to my little neck of the woods?”

Anna replied, “Rod, put your dick away.” I looked down and, indeed, I had forgotten to stow my cock. Out of pure curtesy, I packed it away. Then I returned my attention to Anna. “Alright, Anna, what’s going on here?”

Anna launched into a startling tale about what brought her to me. As she spoke I became lost in her wanton beauty. She got up from her chair and walked about the room as she relayed her story, presumably to make it more dramatic and demonstrative. I got a full-on view of her body, and it was fantastic!!

She stands 5’10’’ and weighs 105 lbs. She is lithe. She was showing it off too, wearing a black, silk dress that landed just about her ankles. The top was low-cut, betraying just a bit of cleavage from her C-cup wineglass titties. She was not wearing a bra. Anna never wears a bra. Her nips were perfectly outlined through the silk. In fact, I think her nips were hard. It was probably something she did on purpose in an attempt to influence me. It was working.

Anna’s ass was perfect. It was not at all fat, but round enough not to be skinny. It was a fit figure skater’s ass. As she walked, I could see a tiny bit of jiggle emanating from her ass flesh, and then reverberated in the silky black dress she wore. My cock began growing hard again.

Her face was beautiful. Think Scarlett Johanson and Phoebe Cates rolled into one. But any sweetness this may evoke is quickly dispelled by Anna’s throaty voice with its thick Russian accent. I have known Anna for 20 years. Yet, she still does not look a day over 25. Jesus Christ!!! If ever there was a chick to die for ….. If I was one to delve into the belief of the paranormal, then I may conclude that Anna made a deal with the devil. But, I am not such a person.
And literally, Anna Conda is a chick to die for. She is deadly as fuck. She will kill you in a split second without a thought just because she does not like the shirt you are wearing. She can do it too. She is always armed and she knows how to use her weapons. Moreover, she is a total psychopath. This makes her doubly dangerous.

Anna and I have always gotten along for the most part. Like Anna, the dollar is my primary motivating factor. Such a mindset allows for understanding and predictability among people, which are elements that are sorely missing in many business dealings today that go on in the color of darkness.

Suddenly, Anna snapped me out of my thoughts. “Here’s your gun, Rod. Now let’s get started”, said Anna. She and Sergio were halfway through the door exiting Lou’s office when I said, “Hey, wait a damned minute!!! What are you talking about?!?”

They both stopped, and Anna walked back in and looked me in the eyes, saying “The plan, Rod. Let’s get on with the plan.” A little embarrassed, I sheepishly asked, “What plan?” Anna folded her arms and looked cross at me. After a moment to allow me to simmer in my shame, she asked, “You were not paying attention, were you, Rod?” I shook my head and looked down.

I heard a hammer cock. I jerked my head back up to find myself staring down the barrel of a pistol pointed at my head that Anna was holding. I protested, “Look, it is not my fucking fault!! Put that fucking gun down!!!” I continued, “You were distracting me with …. Well.. you know, how you are dressed, and that hot, sultry voice…. You know?”

“So, instead of paying attention to the plan, you chose to eye-rape me. Is that what I am to understand your position is, Rod?”, she asked. Knowing that my life was on the line, I said, “Anna, look, you know I am horny to a fault. Then you come in here, swinging them tits around, wearing that silk dress showing off the crack of your ass…. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU EXPECT TO HAPPENED?”

Anna lowered her gun. She knew that my explanation of being a total cocksman was truth. “Let’s go”, Anna curtly said. I obeyed.

Anna explained the plan to me again on the drive from The Plump Rump. She made me wear a blindfold so that I would not get horny during her explanation. Here is how it went:

Anna Conda was now working for the Russians. It seems that Putin caught wind of the Sasquatch project that the Chinese were working on. He also knew that the American government have been fucking with sasquatch for decades. Thus, he was very concerned about the existence of a bigfoot gap. He ordered the acquisition of a Sasquatch specimen immediately.

Moreover, said specimen must be prime. It needed to be the biggest, baddest sasquatch of them all – a true alpha – so as to speed things along. Putin did not want some weird shit-creature, is-it-a-sasquatch-or-is-it-a-dogman, kind of monstrosity. He wanted purebred, badass sasquatchery, and preferably from the American Pacific northwest.

Anna got in on it because she sold the intel to Putin about China’s Sasquatch operation. She then told Putin she could produce sasquatch corpses for him. She told him she had a contact (i.e., me). Thus, with Putin’s blessing and promises of riches to come, Anna set out to America to find me.

Now, here is where things got a bit squirrely. See, I agreed to procure some more dead sasquatch. I have no problem with killing sasquatch because, in my opinion, they are an abomination on this Earth. I kind of feel like I am doing God’s work by wiping out as many of them as I can. And given all the not-so-Godly stuff I have done, I feel like killing Sasquatch kind of offsets that to some degree.

But Anna, she was stuck on Putin’s instruction that she must supply him with apex Sasquatch. So she did not want to take my advice of heading to the Pacific Northwest or Alaska. Instead, Anna claimed to have pinpointed the whereabouts of a particularly gruesome sasquatch beast that she KNEW would win her a fortune from Putin if she brought it to him.

“So, where is this beast?”, I asked. Anna replied “Martha’s Vineyard”. I paused. Then I asked her to repeat herself. It turns out that I was not mistaken about what Anna had said. I continued, “Uh, Anna, there are no sasquatch on Martha’s Vineyard, just a lot of wealth New Englander schmucks.”

Anna looked at me and told me I was wrong. Then she decided to attempt to taunt me. “Oh, Rod, mighty slayer of Bigfoot! Yet, you fail to take notice of where the biggest, most foul and rotten beast of them all makes its home. Jesus, Rod!! What kind of bigfoot hunter are you, anyway?” Anna then spit at my feet and wondered aloud whether she even needs me for this job.

I decided that I needed to straighten out the hierarchy here in order for this here deal to move forward. I said, “Well, Anna, feel free to truck on over to Old Whitey Beach and battle that beast. But, if there is a big old mangy sasquatch lurking around over there, then it is probably a fucking Nazi-Squatch. You know, those fuckers out there hate the Jews.”

The work “Nazi” visibly shook Anna. Her great grandfather died defending Leningrad. Her entire family there died of either starvation or cannibalism during Hitler’s siege during Operation Barbarossa. Anna despised Nazis. But she feared them too. After landing that punch, I decided to push my luck.

“Now, I am still willing to help you catch this here Nazi-Squatch, but you have to do something for me”, I said. Now Anna’s eyes were on me, and they were narrowing. I continued, “I want you to get bare assed naked and pleasure yourself while I stand over you and jack it.” Anna stared at me silently for a long moment. Then she replied.

“After the job is done, and you can get none of your … fluids… on me”, she said. I shook my head and countered, “Now, and I will ‘try’ to not get my spunk on you.”

However, Anna then turned the tables on me. In fact, she picked up the table and bashed my head in with it. She looked me in my eyes, then matter-of-factly said, “You get the beast, and your prize shall be a night with me, anything goes, darling.” Well, since this caused all of the blood to immediately drain from my brain, I had a lapse in judgment. “DEAL!!”, I said. Then we shook on it.

“OK, tell me more about this supposed monster sasquatch on Martha’s Vineyard”, I said. I still was not ready to believe there was a monster out there. “I show you photo”, said Anna. She took out her phone, scrolled to find the photo, then handed the phone to me. “There. Sasquatch”, she said.

I stared at the photo and remained silent. After a long moment, I turned the phone so that Anna could see the photo and asked, “Uh, Anna, is THIS what you intended to show me?” She replied. “Yes! There…Sasquatch! The biggest, grossest monster around.”

Now, I could not argue with Anna that the image on her phone is a big, gross monster. Hell, it could actually be a sasquatch, and THE UBER sasquatch. It is most certainly the grossest thing on Martha’s Vinyard. But I somehow do not think this is what Putin is expecting.

I turned to Anna and said, “Anna, this is a photo of Michelle Obama. I know it looks vile, and has a huge, hulking body with large appendages where a woman should not have them. But, sweatheart, that ain’t no sasquatch. That’s a big, hairy Chicago street negro.”

Anna did not believe me at first. She was hard in her conviction that Obama was a sasquatch. “I have seen the Sasquatch beast you deliver to me for China. This … Michelle Obama …. It is big, and hairy, and ugly like the sasquatch beast, but worse.”

When the truth finally set it, I could see that it had kind of broken down poor Anna, if only just a bit. I put my arm around Anna and told her, “Look, Michelle O fooled you. Hell, she and her Hamas Hubby fooled millions of Americans, twice! At least you saw Michelle for what she is, to wit: a big, gross sasquatch, and NOT some kind a retarded leftist messiah.”

After that, things took a rather dark turn. “What if we still take her to Putin? We can make deal; sell her to Putin!!” At this point I held up my hands and said, “I’m out”, then turned and walked away. Anna followed, trying to get me to stay. At this point, I could tell that Anna was coming undone a little.

See, she had to produce for Putin. There is no telling what kind of secret deal she actually had with him. She had to deliver a big old mangy Obama …. Er, uh, I mean … Sasquatch, to Putin.

“Ok, Rod, we do your plan. We go out west to kill bigfoot. Huge, monster bigfoot. she said. I turned and looked Anna in her eyes and said the following: First, we bang for 48 hours straight, right now, so I can get my fill of you. Second, you pay me $10,000.00 cash upfront. Third, upon delivery of the dead bigfoot, you pay me $1 million immediately.”

Anna agreed to everything, but noted that at the present time it was her “time of the month”. I grimaced, as I will absolutely not go there (and she knows that). “Fine, next week we bang”, I said. She pointed out that I would be in the woods next week hunting sasquatch. “Fine, once I come out of the woods, then we bang – 48 hours straight”, I said. “Of course, darling!”, she agreed.

Well, it took several days to set up the hunt, but it finally happened. I was in Washington state at high elevation based on intel I has acquired that indicated that there was a monstrous 15’ tall sasquatch on the mountain range that had been murdering and eating hunters and hikers. After 3 months in these mountains without a trace of the creature I began to lose hope, thinking that I probably got some bad intel, or bad coordinates.

I got my satellite phone out to call for an extraction. Winter was setting in fast, and if I did not get off this mountain soon, then I would freeze and/or starve to death. Unfortunately, my contact did not answer. I tried for 2 days. No answer. I had been fucked. I wondered what had happened back in civilization that caused me to be abandoned like this. I resolved that I would get off that mountain and get to the bottom of this shit. There would be hell to pay for this betrayal!!’

I was able to get in touch with contacts from back home. I got old Billy Ray from Ellijay and Rattler on the phone and got them to come out here to Washington State to extract me. Rattler use to fly helicopters in the Army. He has an old Huey sitting in his front yard, to the chagrin of his HOA. He fired that sucker up, and him and old Billy Ray flew out here to my coordinates and extracted me.

After landing at a convenience store to buy some beer for the flight home, we headed east. Through the skies a way, Billy Ray said, “Well, Rod, I guess you is bout ready to git back home to Georgia, eh?” In fact, I was ready to go home. But I had to take care of some business first. I told them both to take me to New York City. They were both perplexed. All I said to them was “I have an old friend there I have to see before I can go home.”

I have intel on where Anna Conda stays when she is in the United States. She stays at certain hotels depending on what month she is here, and whether her check-in date is an odd or even number. This is for undercover work. I came across the code for her stays while doing the sasquatch work for China. She an I were caught in a snowstorm one night in Buffalo, NY, and had to share a room at the Holiday Inn near the airport. We had like 10 big Igloo ice chests with iced down sasquatch body parts with us in the room.

Anna was like, “No hanky panky, Rod. I am tired and I want to go to bed. Tomorrow we finish business.”

Frankly, I did not blame her for withholding her magnificent muff from me. I was tired as hell. But, I could not settle for nothing. So, when Anna was in the bathroom taking a shower, I started going through her suit case. I wanted to find some of her panties to jack off into. Instead, I found a little black notebook. Inside it contained her lodging codes, and some other interesting things. I photographed the contents with my phone and then put it back.

When Anna got out of the shower she was already dressed in her night clothes. She saw me lying on my back, nude on the bed, and jacking it. “Rod!! GROSS!!!! Go to the restroom to do that shit!!!”, she commanded. I just did it to get a rise out of her. LOL!!

So, if Anna is still inside the U.S., then using the codes I stole from her I can locate precisely where she will be that night. I studied it for a few moments then had my answer. Tonight she would be staying at the Dogman Inn on Hwy 95 South, Room 355. I told Rattler to get me there stat!

We had to stop several times for fuel and beer. Those Hueys go just a bit over a hundred MPH, you know. But eventually, we got there. I gave the boys some money and told them to go to the Waffle House for some coffee to sober up. Then they would fly me home.

I should mention that I also had Rattler’s fully auto Russian AK-74 with spare mags. During the long flight with 2 drunks from Washington State to New York City, I had worked myself up into a towering rage over how Anna fucked me on this Putin deal. She had clearly thrown me aside. But for what, exactly? I figured I would storm the hotel room, get some answers, then shower the room with gun fire.

I busted through the door of Room 355 at exactly 3:35 a.m. There she was. My entry roused her from slumber. I was pointing my rifle at her, center mass. She was shocked at the appearance of a gunman in her room at this time of night. However, she was not as shocked as one would think (this was not the first time something like this has happened to her).

I raised my face from the receiver just enough so she could see it was me. “Rod!!!”, she exclaimed. “What happened to you?!?!? I thought you had died up in those mountains when we never hear from you!” I replied, “Shove it up that cute little ass of yours, Anna. You fucked me. And not in the good way. What the fuck was all that shit about needing a sasquatch for Putin?!?”

Anna played dumb. But it struck me that I had been deliberately put out of the loop for 3 months. Why? Who wanted me away for that long, and why? What went on in my absence?!? I was just dying to know!!! I set my rifle down and pulled out my fixed blade knife, ready to get down to some real nasty work on Anna so I could get some truth. The pure evil of what I was about to do to her caused a wide death grin to grow on my face. Anna saw it. She knew what it meant. She swallowed hard and her eyes betrayed the shear terror she felt inside. I was engorged with blood lust. She knew she had fucked up one time too many this time!!

Suddenly came the sound of the toilet in the bathroom flushing. I was momentarily shocked. I did not expect anyone else to be there with Anna. Anna saw it in my face. I glanced at her and saw that the terror in her face was replaced with pleasure, a slight smile creeping over her face.

I was going to have to face off against this person in the bathroom, who would be out in a split moment. When I do that, I will have to turn 180 degrees from Anna, thereby making me vulnerable to her. I had only once choice: Shoot Anna first.

Just as this came to me, but just before I could act on it, the bathroom door opened. I had to deal with that person before Anna now. I spun around to see that it was a completely nude, and fat, white man. He was a real oafish blob. He looked surprised to see me. He also looked sort of familiar.

I next heard the crack of something hitting my skull hard. I remember the immediate hateful pain that shot through my body and the sound of blood rushing through my ears. I remember the dizziness, then falling to the floor. Clearly, as I fixed on the man from the bathroom, Anna had cracked me over the head with a blunt object.

I came to the next morning, Billy Ray and Rattler had manage to track me down based upon coordinates I left in the chopper that said “IN CASE OF EMERGENCY”. Billy Ray filled up the hotel room ice bucket with cold water and doused my head with it to bring me conscious. I was disoriented at first. But after a bit, what happened in this room the night before came back to me.

Honestly, I am surprised that Anna did not just kill me. I presume that she thinks she can leverage her drop-dead hotness to get me to do more shit for her in the future. She is absolutely right about that too. Rattler then said, “Hey, Rod, that snake bitch left a letter fer ya.”

He handed me the letter. This is what it said:
____________________________________________

“Dear Rod:

Sorry about the boo boo on your head. Hope it heals soon. Also sorry about leaving you in the mountains. I was not running a scam on you Rod. Rather, an opportunity arose for me to acquire a sasquatch body from another person. You may know him since you are a sasquatch hunter. His name is Matt Moneymaker. Anyway, until next time…..

Yours truly,
Anna Conda”
_____________________________________________
I could not fucking believe it. That was fatfuck Moneymaker in the hotel room earlier. Anna fucked Matt Fatfuck Moneymaker for a Sasquatch! That fat son of bitch!!

Billy Ray asked, “You ready to go Rod?” I stood up and said, “Yeah, let’s go.” Then Rattler said, “Hey, ya wanna stop and git some beer fer the ride home?” I replied “Hell yeah.”

I felt like I wanted to die. Thank God for beer and buddies. I don’t blame Anna. She is a fucking snake, and I knew that before this started. Also, I cannot really blame fatfuck Moneymaker for wanting to get some of that hot poon pie Anna serves up. I guess I have to blame fate for fucking me over this time. I even started thinking that next time I will just avoid Anna. But I know I won’t, thus making me subject to this sort of shit again. I had Rattler set us down in Charlottesville so I could buy some hard liquor.

I am currently applying for Director level HR roles. I am located in CA and am applying to MOSTLY CA or west coast companies.
I applied for a fully remote (but had to be in CA) role with a Bay Area based company a few weeks ago, and go through to the screening round. However, I just got the rejection letter today that I'm not moving on. The unique and kind of cool part was that the hiring team shared that they'd gotten over 700 applicants in the "less than a week" the role was advertised.
So for all yall in HR out there looking.........thats what we're up against right now. 700 plus applicants for a role YEEESH!!!!!
(Yeah, it's true probably more than half weren't remotely qualifed but still.....lots of folks out there in HR looking!)

So far sales had been steady but not spectacular. Jenna hoped they would pick up after the school let out. She chatted and sampled with customers, pitching her spiel about supporting their troop's efforts to earn badges. It was fun work even if tiring on her feet.
Gazing up at the cloudless sky, Jenna wondered idly if it might rain later. The forecast hadn't mentioned anything, but you never knew. A tiny speck in the distance caught her eye. She squinted, trying to make it out. It grew rapidly in size—and shape. Whatever it was, it wasn't a bird.
"Hey Jamie, do you see that?" Jenna nudged her friend, pointing. Now the other girls had turned to look as well. What had been a speck was now clearly some large, cylindrical object descending from the heavens. It shone silvery-grey in the sunlight.
"Is that...a rocket ship?" breathed Tammy.
As it neared the treetops, its design became evident. Definitely not any spacecraft Jenna had seen on the news or in movies. It was smoothly rounded on all ends, with no visible engines or fins. Eerily silent, it drifted toward an open field and settled softly on four tapering legs.
The girls stared open-mouthed, cookies momentarily forgotten. A hatch appeared in the side of the ship. Light spilled out, glowing an ethereal blue. Then towering figures emerged, moving with an inhuman grace.
Jenna caught her breath. Peering closer, she could just make out bipedal forms wrapped in loose, silvery garments. Their limbs seemed overly long and jointed in odd places. As they turned in her direction, two dark eyes set wide in hairless faces met hers. No nose or mouth was visible beneath.
"Aliens," Jamie whispered. "Actual aliens. I don't believe it."
Tammy squeaked and clung to Jenna's arm. But Jenna's mind was racing. This was an incredible opportunity, too good to pass up. She flashed the others a mischievous smile. "Come on, girls. Let's go make some sales!"
The troop fell into step behind her as she marched into the field. The creatures had paused, gazing around at their surroundings with a palpable air of curiosity and caution. As Jenna neared, they angled their expressive eyes down at the little band approaching. Up close, their skin shimmered in shades of aqua and moss green, veined with silvery networks.
The tallest one shifted its gaze between the girls, as if taking their measure. It spoke, but the sound was like rushing wind and dripping water blended into an eerie melody. Its friends chattered in response, their voices blending into a dissonant choir.
Undeterred, Jenna beamed and proudly presented her box of Thin Mints. "Cookies!" she enunciated clearly. "Would you like to buy some cookies?" To her astonishment, a glowing rectangle like a computer screen lit up on the tall one's torso. Words scrolled across it in crisp English letters.
WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND. WHAT ARE COOKIES? IT SEEMS YOU ARE SELLING SOMETHING, BUT WE HAVE NO CURRENCY OF YOUR WORLD.
Jamie leaned in to whisper, eyes shining, "They can understand us! This is so cool."
Jenna gathered her thoughts, focusing on her sales pitch despite everything unusual about the situation. "Cookies are a sweet treat made of chocolate and biscuits. They're very popular here on Earth. And all the money we earn from selling them goes towards fun trips and learning new skills as Girl Scouts. Please, won't you buy a box to help support our troop? I'm sure you'll love them!"
The aliens conferred amongst themselves, still in untranslatablespeech. Finally, the glowing display lit up again. I APOLOGIZE, BUT WE HAVE NO MEANS OF TRANSACTION. WE ARE EXPLORERS HERE IN PEACE TO STUDY YOUR WORLD. PERHAPS ANOTHER TIME WE CAN BARTER. FOR NOW, WE ONLY WISH TO LEARN.
Jenna tried to hide her disappointment. This wasn't how she'd envisioned the interaction going at all. But she had come this far, so she wasn't giving up yet. An idea bloomed in her mind. "Well, since you want to learn about us, how about a trade? We'll give you a box of cookies to try in exchange for letting our whole troop come aboard your ship for a little while. What do you say?"
The girls held their breath. This was assuredly against every safety rule. But an opportunity for an out of this world experience was too enticing to pass up. The aliens conversed quietly before responding.
VERY WELL, HUMAN CHILDREN. FOR THE SAKE OF CULTURAL EXCHANGE, WE AGREE TO YOUR TRADE. COME, WE SHALL GIVE YOU A TOUR OF OUR VESSEL.
Screeches of delight arose from the Scout troop. Jenna tried to shush them, not wanting the aliens to change their minds. But she couldn't contain her own grin of excitement and triumph. This was going to be one very memorable cookie sale!
Jenna stepped forward nervously, holding out the box of Thin Mints for the aliens to see. She did her best salesperson smile while gesturing to the colorful packaging. "Cookies!" she said again loudly and clearly.
The tallest alien leaned down, its large dark eyes fixing on the box in Jenna's hands. A long, nimble finger reached out to poke gently at the box, then drew back just as swiftly. Its companions murmured again in their strange tongue.
Frustrated not being able to communicate properly, Jenna popped open the lid so the sweet scent could waft up. She took one mint and mimed taking a bite, sighing happily and rubbing her belly. The aliens copied the sign for stomach, looking quizzical.
An idea sparked in Jenna's mind. Rummaging in her bag, she pulled out her phone and found the notepad app. Typing awkwardly with her thumbs, she showed them the words "Will you trade for this?" Arrows pointed to the cookies and to their ship.
A spark of understanding lit in the aliens' eyes as they studied the makeshift message. Their glowing display lit up in response. I APOLOGIZE, SMALL HUMAN, BUT WE HAVE NOTHING OF VALUE FROM OUR WORLD TO OFFER IN RETURN. OUR MISSION HERE IS ONE OF DISCOVERY ONLY.
"Please?" Jenna typed, giving her best pleading look. The girls clustered behind her, joining in the silent begging. But the aliens only seemed perplexed by this behavior.
Suddenly Tammy piped up, "What if we clean your ship for you? We'll dust and sweep and take out the garbage." The others stared at her, surprised by this inventive offer.
The display considered this. THAT IS A GENEROUS OFFER. HOWEVER, OUR CRAFT UTILIZES TECHNOLOGY FAR BEYOND YOUR WORLD'S CURRENT STAGE. I DOUBT YOU COULD PERFORM MAINTENANCE TO OUR STANDARDS.
At this rejection, the girls deflated with twin sounds of disappointment. But Jenna wasn't giving up yet. She furiously texted another message. "How about you give us a little tour then? We promise to be very careful and not touch anything."
The aliens conferred quietly amongst themselves for several moments. The girls held their breath, hoping their persistence was finally paying off. Then the glowing display lit up once more.
VERY WELL, SMALL HUMANS. FOR THE SAKE OF CULTURAL EXCHANGE, WE WILL ALLOW YOU A BRIEF LOOK INSIDE OUR VESSEL. BUT YOU MUST FOLLOW OUR INSTRUCTIONS CAREFULLY. OUR TECHNOLOGY COULD PROVE DANGEROUS IF MISUSED.
The Girl Scouts whooped and cheered, doing a little victory dance. Jenna grinned, popping another Thin Mint in her mouth triumphantly. "Deal! Thank you so much for this."
The tallest alien gestured gracefully with one long arm. "THIS WAY, YOUNG ONES. WE SHALL BEGIN OUR TOUR."
Clutching their cookie boxes eagerly, the girls fell into line behind the extraterrestrials. They followed them up a floating gangway into the belly of the ship.
Inside, the walls glowed with an otherworldly luminescence. Strange symbols and interfaces winked all around, totally indecipherable. The floors felt bouncy underfoot, as if made of gelatin.
"Wow," breathed Jamie. "It's so beautiful in here."
The aliens guided them through sleek corridors and compartments full of glowing tech. They pointed out living quarters, a laboratory, hydroponic gardens, and an observation deck showing the curve of the Earth.
In the cockpit, countless viewscreens displayed alien constellations and scans of their small town below. Control panels rippled like liquid mercury beneath touch.
"This is where we navigated our journey to your solar system," explained their guides. "Truly a marvel, the distances stars can be bridged.
Tammy peered out the main viewing portal. "Your ship is so fast! How did you get here from wherever you came from?"
As the explorers launched into an explanation involving hyperdrives and folded spacetime, Jenna began to lose the thread. Space travel clearly worked very differently where these beings hailed from.
Their tour lasted nearly an hour, the aliens answering every barrage of questions patiently. All too soon, it was over, and they found themselves back outside in the late afternoon sun
"Thank you so much for the amazing tour!" Jenna gushed, hugging her now-empty cookie box. "Learning about aliens is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
The tallest being dipped its head graciously. "IT WAS OUR PLEASURE, SMALL HUMANS. YOU HAVE PROVIDED US AN INSIGHT INTO YOUR YOUNG ONES AS WELL."
Its fellows chattered in their musical language, some holding half-eaten cookies and gesturing appreciatively. Jenna beamed, glad they seemed to have enjoyed the treats.
"Will you come back to see us again?" asked Jamie hopefully.
"PERHAPS, IF OUR EXPLORATIONS BRING US BACK THIS WAY," was the reply. "BUT FOR NOW, WE MUST RESUME OUR JOURNEY AMONG THE STARS. FAREWELL, AND THANK YOU ONCE MORE FOR YOUR HOSPITALITY.
The aliens turned as one and glided back up the gangway. The rockets flared, rising gracefully into the sky until they vanished into the dusk.
The girls stood watching long after, buzzing with excited chatter about this unforgettable day. In the end, it had been the best cookie sale ever. Maybe even worth breaking a few rules...

So far sales had been steady but not spectacular. Jenna hoped they would pick up after the school let out. She chatted and sampled with customers, pitching her spiel about supporting their troop's efforts to earn badges. It was fun work even if tiring on her feet.
Gazing up at the cloudless sky, Jenna wondered idly if it might rain later. The forecast hadn't mentioned anything, but you never knew. A tiny speck in the distance caught her eye. She squinted, trying to make it out. It grew rapidly in size—and shape. Whatever it was, it wasn't a bird.
"Hey Jamie, do you see that?" Jenna nudged her friend, pointing. Now the other girls had turned to look as well. What had been a speck was now clearly some large, cylindrical object descending from the heavens. It shone silvery-grey in the sunlight.
"Is that...a rocket ship?" breathed Tammy.
As it neared the treetops, its design became evident. Definitely not any spacecraft Jenna had seen on the news or in movies. It was smoothly rounded on all ends, with no visible engines or fins. Eerily silent, it drifted toward an open field and settled softly on four tapering legs.
The girls stared open-mouthed, cookies momentarily forgotten. A hatch appeared in the side of the ship. Light spilled out, glowing an ethereal blue. Then towering figures emerged, moving with an inhuman grace.
Jenna caught her breath. Peering closer, she could just make out bipedal forms wrapped in loose, silvery garments. Their limbs seemed overly long and jointed in odd places. As they turned in her direction, two dark eyes set wide in hairless faces met hers. No nose or mouth was visible beneath.
"Aliens," Jamie whispered. "Actual aliens. I don't believe it."
Tammy squeaked and clung to Jenna's arm. But Jenna's mind was racing. This was an incredible opportunity, too good to pass up. She flashed the others a mischievous smile. "Come on, girls. Let's go make some sales!"
The troop fell into step behind her as she marched into the field. The creatures had paused, gazing around at their surroundings with a palpable air of curiosity and caution. As Jenna neared, they angled their expressive eyes down at the little band approaching. Up close, their skin shimmered in shades of aqua and moss green, veined with silvery networks.
The tallest one shifted its gaze between the girls, as if taking their measure. It spoke, but the sound was like rushing wind and dripping water blended into an eerie melody. Its friends chattered in response, their voices blending into a dissonant choir.
Undeterred, Jenna beamed and proudly presented her box of Thin Mints. "Cookies!" she enunciated clearly. "Would you like to buy some cookies?" To her astonishment, a glowing rectangle like a computer screen lit up on the tall one's torso. Words scrolled across it in crisp English letters.
WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND. WHAT ARE COOKIES? IT SEEMS YOU ARE SELLING SOMETHING, BUT WE HAVE NO CURRENCY OF YOUR WORLD.
Jamie leaned in to whisper, eyes shining, "They can understand us! This is so cool."
Jenna gathered her thoughts, focusing on her sales pitch despite everything unusual about the situation. "Cookies are a sweet treat made of chocolate and biscuits. They're very popular here on Earth. And all the money we earn from selling them goes towards fun trips and learning new skills as Girl Scouts. Please, won't you buy a box to help support our troop? I'm sure you'll love them!"
The aliens conferred amongst themselves, still in untranslatablespeech. Finally, the glowing display lit up again. I APOLOGIZE, BUT WE HAVE NO MEANS OF TRANSACTION. WE ARE EXPLORERS HERE IN PEACE TO STUDY YOUR WORLD. PERHAPS ANOTHER TIME WE CAN BARTER. FOR NOW, WE ONLY WISH TO LEARN.
Jenna tried to hide her disappointment. This wasn't how she'd envisioned the interaction going at all. But she had come this far, so she wasn't giving up yet. An idea bloomed in her mind. "Well, since you want to learn about us, how about a trade? We'll give you a box of cookies to try in exchange for letting our whole troop come aboard your ship for a little while. What do you say?"
The girls held their breath. This was assuredly against every safety rule. But an opportunity for an out of this world experience was too enticing to pass up. The aliens conversed quietly before responding.
VERY WELL, HUMAN CHILDREN. FOR THE SAKE OF CULTURAL EXCHANGE, WE AGREE TO YOUR TRADE. COME, WE SHALL GIVE YOU A TOUR OF OUR VESSEL.
Screeches of delight arose from the Scout troop. Jenna tried to shush them, not wanting the aliens to change their minds. But she couldn't contain her own grin of excitement and triumph. This was going to be one very memorable cookie sale!
Jenna stepped forward nervously, holding out the box of Thin Mints for the aliens to see. She did her best salesperson smile while gesturing to the colorful packaging. "Cookies!" she said again loudly and clearly.
The tallest alien leaned down, its large dark eyes fixing on the box in Jenna's hands. A long, nimble finger reached out to poke gently at the box, then drew back just as swiftly. Its companions murmured again in their strange tongue.
Frustrated not being able to communicate properly, Jenna popped open the lid so the sweet scent could waft up. She took one mint and mimed taking a bite, sighing happily and rubbing her belly. The aliens copied the sign for stomach, looking quizzical.
An idea sparked in Jenna's mind. Rummaging in her bag, she pulled out her phone and found the notepad app. Typing awkwardly with her thumbs, she showed them the words "Will you trade for this?" Arrows pointed to the cookies and to their ship.
A spark of understanding lit in the aliens' eyes as they studied the makeshift message. Their glowing display lit up in response. I APOLOGIZE, SMALL HUMAN, BUT WE HAVE NOTHING OF VALUE FROM OUR WORLD TO OFFER IN RETURN. OUR MISSION HERE IS ONE OF DISCOVERY ONLY.
"Please?" Jenna typed, giving her best pleading look. The girls clustered behind her, joining in the silent begging. But the aliens only seemed perplexed by this behavior.
Suddenly Tammy piped up, "What if we clean your ship for you? We'll dust and sweep and take out the garbage." The others stared at her, surprised by this inventive offer.
The display considered this. THAT IS A GENEROUS OFFER. HOWEVER, OUR CRAFT UTILIZES TECHNOLOGY FAR BEYOND YOUR WORLD'S CURRENT STAGE. I DOUBT YOU COULD PERFORM MAINTENANCE TO OUR STANDARDS.
At this rejection, the girls deflated with twin sounds of disappointment. But Jenna wasn't giving up yet. She furiously texted another message. "How about you give us a little tour then? We promise to be very careful and not touch anything."
The aliens conferred quietly amongst themselves for several moments. The girls held their breath, hoping their persistence was finally paying off. Then the glowing display lit up once more.
VERY WELL, SMALL HUMANS. FOR THE SAKE OF CULTURAL EXCHANGE, WE WILL ALLOW YOU A BRIEF LOOK INSIDE OUR VESSEL. BUT YOU MUST FOLLOW OUR INSTRUCTIONS CAREFULLY. OUR TECHNOLOGY COULD PROVE DANGEROUS IF MISUSED.
The Girl Scouts whooped and cheered, doing a little victory dance. Jenna grinned, popping another Thin Mint in her mouth triumphantly. "Deal! Thank you so much for this."
The tallest alien gestured gracefully with one long arm. "THIS WAY, YOUNG ONES. WE SHALL BEGIN OUR TOUR."
Clutching their cookie boxes eagerly, the girls fell into line behind the extraterrestrials. They followed them up a floating gangway into the belly of the ship.
Inside, the walls glowed with an otherworldly luminescence. Strange symbols and interfaces winked all around, totally indecipherable. The floors felt bouncy underfoot, as if made of gelatin.
"Wow," breathed Jamie. "It's so beautiful in here."
The aliens guided them through sleek corridors and compartments full of glowing tech. They pointed out living quarters, a laboratory, hydroponic gardens, and an observation deck showing the curve of the Earth.
In the cockpit, countless viewscreens displayed alien constellations and scans of their small town below. Control panels rippled like liquid mercury beneath touch.
"This is where we navigated our journey to your solar system," explained their guides. "Truly a marvel, the distances stars can be bridged.
Tammy peered out the main viewing portal. "Your ship is so fast! How did you get here from wherever you came from?"
As the explorers launched into an explanation involving hyperdrives and folded spacetime, Jenna began to lose the thread. Space travel clearly worked very differently where these beings hailed from.
Their tour lasted nearly an hour, the aliens answering every barrage of questions patiently. All too soon, it was over, and they found themselves back outside in the late afternoon sun
"Thank you so much for the amazing tour!" Jenna gushed, hugging her now-empty cookie box. "Learning about aliens is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
The tallest being dipped its head graciously. "IT WAS OUR PLEASURE, SMALL HUMANS. YOU HAVE PROVIDED US AN INSIGHT INTO YOUR YOUNG ONES AS WELL."
Its fellows chattered in their musical language, some holding half-eaten cookies and gesturing appreciatively. Jenna beamed, glad they seemed to have enjoyed the treats.
"Will you come back to see us again?" asked Jamie hopefully.
"PERHAPS, IF OUR EXPLORATIONS BRING US BACK THIS WAY," was the reply. "BUT FOR NOW, WE MUST RESUME OUR JOURNEY AMONG THE STARS. FAREWELL, AND THANK YOU ONCE MORE FOR YOUR HOSPITALITY.
The aliens turned as one and glided back up the gangway. The rockets flared, rising gracefully into the sky until they vanished into the dusk.
The girls stood watching long after, buzzing with excited chatter about this unforgettable day. In the end, it had been the best cookie sale ever. Maybe even worth breaking a few rules...

This happened concurrently and now I don’t know if it will throw things off or speed up. Please help
I have an expired green card, applied for a new one, and went for biometrics appointment.
The day I received the biometrics appointment notice, found out I needed to travel internationally so I filled out and mailed in the request for travel document and paid the fee ($165). I indicated on the form that I already have a biometrics scheduled for next week.
I then went for biometrics and shortly received my updated green card.
Today, I received a notice via post mail from USCIS that they are processing my travel document request. Nothing more was on the letter aside from basic info.
Would I need to do another round of biometrics even though I just did one not even 2 weeks ago? And how long has it been taking to get travel document so I can plan my travel and getting a visa entry to my destination?

This was cross posted to the Shopify sub as well.
Hello Shopify experts,
I am in need of your assistance. I have quite an underperforming store...approximately a sale every 2 months. I know my product is sensational but I have yet to get the word out regarding just how good it is, due to serious financial limitations hindering my ad resources. I realize a good site is paramount and I asked someone in the “biz” (from a different sub) to take a quick look at my site and see if they would offer any feedback. The initial feedback was that it was a poor shopper experience and that navigation within the product was bland and boring. I didn't think so, but I am brand new to Shopify and I certainly don't have the answers.
The Shoemaker Crockett and Jones Is a company I would consider a competitor, and when looking at their product page I feel they provide a fantastic example of a shopper experience. https://us.crockettandjones.com/collections/mens-oxfords-collection/products/connaught-2-black-calf
As mentioned above I have severe financial limitations, I am a cancer patient and my medical bills have decimated my life savings and I am trying to make this storefront a source of income as I have been unemployed for the last 3 1/2 years, and so I will be looking to hire on a Fiverr gig, but I want to be able to describe to the person who's going to do the job how I'd like to design the product page.
I would be extremely grateful if you could help me by reviewing the link above and comparing it to my description, and help me fill in any blanks.
Firstly, I see the product image occupying what looks to be 50% of the viewable area, with the description, price and product title matching the same height and width to the right side. They scroll in unison and you begin to see the next options, which is to choose your size, with a link to a size guide and a fitting guide underneath.
Next are the standard buttons to add to cart.
The next sections look to be meta fields that tie into the delivery &returns, contact us, etc... - I would change these to match my documentation. Are these metafields?
I very much like the next section as you scroll down which begins to show you further information about the shoe last (shape), the shoe style, the sole type, the materials used, and a brief description of the craftsmanship. I am curious if these are also meta fields? And would metafields be the best suggestion to use?
I ask because I have 14 shoe styles, each can come in 4 different shoe shapes (or shoe last - ex: a chisel toe, round toe, soft square, and chisel toe) 20 different colors, 10 different sole types and a plethora of materials.
I LOVE the brief animations from the second half of the scroll down and the fonts add some flair, not sure I like the font choices overall but the two types of fonts add to the feel of the page.
I use the free dawn theme - would this even be possible with my theme?
Thanks for taking the time to read and any for any and all assistance, suggestions, or recommendations you can provide!
Sincerely,
Mitchell