A very kind person told me to unblock everyone I had blocked to fix my voice chat. Well it worked! You have to go to the embark site to view/remove them. If your chat is broken try it! Also embark please fix this bug. I thought my game was done for. (Edit: I've concluded this is an Xbox exclusive bug.)

Turning here for advice. My most recent ex and I kept each other on all social media because we didn’t split on hideous terms.. largely because I’m a push over and didn’t stand up for myself. Anyway, I really am thinking I should block her on everything. Not for attention. I have no desire to block & unblock. I just am thinking maybe it would be best to block her, then hopefully this will help me forget her. As long as we’re friends on social media, I have to see her posts and I am reminded constantly of her that way. This isn’t helping me move on.
So, my main question is, what do I say if she texts me and asks why she’s been blocked? Because it seems like something she would ask. I really don’t want to cause hard feelings, I just merely want to block her from my site so I can TRULY let go and move on. I still wish her the best in her journey, but it’s now not part of my journey and I don’t wish to see it any more.

does anyone have an unblocked proxy website that doesnt have any sorts of limits? I use the proxies available at sites.google.com/view/undergroundkids but they all have some sort of data restrictions. I want to play fnaf during school. I used to play on Yandex.com, but it got blocked because of everyone knowing about it (nobody knows how to gatekeep)

I’ll start with the job posting, I guess. I spotted it on Indeed while making my daily check for anything and everything that would hire someone with my biology degree, and it seemed on the up and up. Their website looked decent, the guy on the phone sounded nice, and I was looking for anything even slightly related to working with wildlife. Being a nightshift guard at a zoo was fine, especially when I took the incredibly generous rate of $25/hr. into account. That’s eleven bucks more than my dad makes at the local grocer, and he’s been working there for thirteen years. Then again, from the P.S. on the posting, I thought there might be good reason for the rate.
It said at the end, almost as an afterthought, ‘Zoo is haunted.’
When it comes to ghosts, they’ve never made much sense to me. Considering how badly our brains function from just getting jostled around on a football field, I’m not sure how ghosts could exist without a brain at all. I’d be excited as the next person to find proof, but YouTube videos are always fishy and the people on TV are essentially actors who only focus on the entertainment factor for their ratings. So, since I’d never seen anything that vaguely resembled a ghost, I’d say binge-watching Supernatural on Netflix last year was the extent of my experience in that department.
It seemed that the zoo hadn’t been here for long since it wasn’t even on Google Maps yet. There was a bit of a commute, it was half an hour away, but since I’d worked local jobs while I attended college online for the past four years, I’d saved up the money to buy a car. It wasn’t anything fancy, just an old Nissan sedan that I’d bought from someone in the next town over, with faded red paint and a mismatched back right door painted blue. It accomplished the job of transportation, though, which let me search the job market further away, a good thing considering how small a town I lived in. I really didn’t want to leave home yet, so moving for a job in a city or another state wasn’t an appealing option.
The website said very little. It had yet to fill in drop down menus that would excitedly describe their attractions. So far it only had some small sections about conservation and education, though that was intriguing because it mentioned that all the animals they had were endangered. I read that notation and wondered what the animals were. Mammals were always favorites of mine, which I know is a bit of a cliché, loving the furry ones. But when it comes down to it, I’ll take any animal over a person.
The employee entrance to the zoo was a door in the large steel gate that surrounded the property, a few yards down from the sliding gate that presumably opened to let visitors in. I pressed the button on a panel beside it, glancing up at the camera, and I was buzzed in. There was a short path that led to the building near the front and I knocked politely before going inside.
The interviewer, a plain metal nameplate on his desk describing him as Director of Security for the zoo, welcomed me in and sat on the other side of his desk, lounging back in his desk chair. His name was Andrew Higgs, and he had a British accent, which I thought was cool. I sat in one of the two loveseats in front of the desk.
Andrew was dressed business casual, with a blue Polo shirt, a thin black jacket, and I saw he was wearing slacks when he stood up to shake my hand. He was black, with dreadlocks that stopped just short of his shoulders, and a closely trimmed mustache. There was a tattoo, an artistic rendition of a hippo, on the right side of his neck, which bode well in my opinion. So many places hiring these days were overly uptight about their employees’ appearance, but it seemed that wouldn’t be the case here.
We went over the basics before he picked up the piece of paper off his desk, my resume, which he’d printed out. “Well, I spoke to all three of your references,” Andrew noted. “They had some good things to say. You were a great employee on the farm you worked last summer, your boss said. Punctual, hard-working, took instructions well…”
That was nice to hear. I’d spent this past summer working at a dairy farm, mostly assigned to the goats and cows they kept for milk. Aside from the staggering muscle pain that tapered from agony to merely miserable by the end of the summer, it wasn’t a bad job. I did have an old shoulder injury that I always had to work around, but it was my left shoulder and I was a righty, so it wasn’t that difficult to manage.
If anything, the muscle pain in my back and legs from being on my feet all day distracted from the typical issue I dealt with. My standard exercising day-to-day was typically either riding my bike or yoga, although yoga is mind-numbingly boring, so I need to listen to a podcast to pass the time. So, in fact, through the job, I was sort of grateful that my brain was focusing on a different area of my body that was in pain. Yeah, chronic pain is weird.
“He also said you don’t work well with others,” Andrew added, glancing up to me. “You kept submitting complaints about incompetent coworkers?”
I pursed my lips and let out a long breath through my nose, considering the most delicate way I was capable of replying to that before saying, “I dislike stupid people.”
Andrew gave me a half-smile and sighed, replying, “Well, I must confess I’m not fond of them either.” He looked back down to the paper. “This job will be a great fit for you.”
The job interview seemed like a formality, and I don’t know why. I was twenty-three and the ink had barely dried on my degree from the online college I’d attended. I’d been applying to jobs for months and had been thrilled when I’d gotten a call for an interview for this one, but also surprised. Call me a cynic, but I expected more invasive questions about any past work I’d done for a job in security, since I was a woman.
It's not like I was petite. Actually, the most common word I’d heard to describe me is ‘built’, and I fall short of being labeled overweight only because of muscle mass. One comment I recall from high school was being teased for being shaped like a rectangle. Even so, there was no good reason to look a gift horse in the mouth, but of course, me being me, that meant I examined its teeth closely.
“So, you’re hiring me? Just like that? Why?”
Andrew, chuckled. “Look, you’ve got BA in wildlife biology, and specializing in animal behavior is just the cherry on the sundae. That tells me you know animals are not people, and even if you feel like you know them, they can still be unpredictable. They can hurt you. But also, it makes me know you care.”
I suppose that did make sense, and it was true, so I’m glad he knew that. Most of my job on the night shift would be watching cameras and then walking around the place to make sure all the animals were as they should be, but it was more than that. Working at a zoo meant knowing where the line was, and sometimes it wasn’t exactly at the fence, but sometimes just putting a single finger through that fence meant losing that finger. As a whole, humans are generally idiots. Looking at you, anyone who really, honestly thinks that a bobcat would sense your boundless love enough to let you pat it.
“The website didn’t have much about the animals,” I said. “I know this place is new, so you might not have info on them up on the site yet. Do you have a map for me?”
“Oh, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Andrew said with a wave of his hand. At that point, it had seemed to be a reasonable thing for him to say, but I will tell you, the reason was not what I thought. “Just to confirm, you’re not an early bird, Miss Mason? This schedule isn’t a concern?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m pretty talented at sleeping in, actually. I never really got past that teenage talent of staying up until five and sleeping in until three. And you can just call me Ripley.”
That made him smile. “Good. Then I won’t worry about you falling asleep on the job, Ripley.”
“Oh, no way.”
“All right. So. You saw the note at the end of the job posting?”
He just stared at me and I was forced to answer, “That the zoo is haunted.”
“Right. What are your thoughts on that?”
There was no easy answer to that question, especially depending on how seriously he took it. “Do you know the best word the Brits gave to us?”
“What’s that?”
“Bollocks.”
Andrew slowly smiled and pointed at me with the end of the pen in his hand. “I think I’m going to like you,” he remarked. “Look…this is the part of the interview where we switch gears. If this was a regular zoo, you’d be a shoo-in for the job. But we’ve got other boxes to check. This outfit is…basically a preservation society. As you saw on the site, all the species are endangered, but what it didn’t say online is that the only people who came to visit are private parties.”
“So, that means…what?” I asked. “You bring in super-rich people who feel special when they get to see the animals you’re rehabilitating and taking care of? Then they donate oodles of money so they can brag to their rich friends about their charity contributions and having seen the animals here?”
Andrew raised his eyebrows. “Pretty much got it in one. It’s just more preservation and less rehabilitation. And a lot of our patrons really do care about the animals, or else they would just donate and not visit. You’ll see tourists a couple times a week, but we decided not to have anyone until we’re settled in here, and that means a person who’s on during the night shift that I can count on. And I don’t know if I can count on you yet.”
“Wait, I’ll see the tourists?” I asked. “They visit at night?”
“Everything we have is nocturnal,” he told me. That struck me as odd, but he continued before I could question it. “Listen up, and I’ll start with the basics. Have you ever seen anything weird? Possibly supernatural?”
“Nope,” I said with a shrug.
The fact is, I got along with my classmates, but I never did have any close friends. So, I thought maybe that’s why I missed out on all those reckless teen moments that started every horror movie. Maybe it left me without a bunch of exciting stories to tell. But hey, at least I didn’t break my leg falling through the floor of an abandoned building in eleventh grade.
Yes, that happened. It was a classmate of mine by the name of Brent. And yes, he’s just as much of a moron as you would imagine.
“If you see the ghost here,” he said, his tone emphatic, “will you freak out?”
I paused. “You’ve seen the ghost?”
“All the time,” Andrew told me. “It’s a young woman in a blue shirt and tan slacks, looks like she just walked out of a lake.”
“Do you have a picture?”
“No, and absolutely no photos or video are to be taken of her,” he said, his tone abruptly turning stern. “It’s cause for immediate dismissal. We have video cameras for security, but they all record off-site in a secure location, and Suzanne Cooper, the owner, manages it herself. Firstly, the ghost deserves privacy rather than exploitation, she’s not to be displayed like one of our animals, but secondly, people believe in ghosts. One leaked photo of her connecting it to us means we get overrun by ghost hunters, and if we trace it back to you, you’re done.”
Andrew seemed next-level serious about that, so I nodded. “Understood. That makes sense.”
The animals were the priority after all, I knew. I preferred them over people anyway, and that included dead people. Even if I could get a video of this ghost doing cartwheels back and forth through a wall, I would never post it and spread word of where I’d taken it. Andrew was right; the zoo would never get the paranormally-obsessed to stay away and would definitely have to relocate.
He continued, “If you’re curious, she’s never so much as tried to hurt anyone. But the zoo has moved before, and she moved with us.”
“She moved with you?” I asked, my eyebrows rising. “Is it like one of those stories where she’s attached to something in the zoo rather than a place?”
“More complicated than that,” he said. Then he grimaced. “She died because she was too ambitious with one of our animals. It never should have happened, but she… She was foolish, you’d say. Attempted to interact with one of the animals, got too close, and honestly, she should have known better. I thought she did.”
“Holy shit,” I whispered. “What killed her?”
He stared at his hands and shook his head. “It was before my time.”
It was clear Andrew was a true believer, but I still really wasn’t sure at that point. How was I supposed to react, though? Zoos have fences and tall barriers for a good reason. Not just to keep the animals away from us, but also the other way around, and ‘death by stupidity’ is not uncommon amongst humans. So, the story wasn’t outrageous, but still, I’d never so much as experienced something unexplainable. But if I saw a ghost, I suppose that’d be that.
“I just need to know, plain and simple, if you’re the kind of person who can handle things that are terrifying,” Andrew told me, splaying his hands. “Our last night shift bloke there was with us for years and years, but we spent months going through other employees. There were six we tried before we found him.”
“Six?” I exclaimed.
He snorted. “Yes, six. Let’s see…” Andrew counted off each one on his fingers. “The first two, the first night they saw the ghost, they lost it. One called me in a panic, babbling, and I had to get out of bed and drive to the zoo to send him home, and the second quit, although at least she made it to the next morning and didn’t drag me out here,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “They just thought I was blowing smoke up their bums with the whole thing.”
He shrugged. “Then, the third one was a bloke who was asleep when I got there in the morning, so I had to fire him. Then another ghost freak-out. The fifth bloke was someone who couldn’t deal with the animals, and then the sixth was so scared of the ghost that when I got here, he was already outside the zoo, pacing, waiting for my car. Apparently he’d said some stuff, rude or mean or whatnot, to try to get her to leave him alone and she had followed him back into the security room, so he fled. I need the opposite of those folks. Alright?”
At this point, I was starting to take it more seriously. Sure, this could just be Andrew’s thing, that he believed in ghosts and then made up these sightings to ensure I believed him. But if I saw her? What would I do?
Well, this would be my job, so I would have to take it seriously. Maybe that was why the pay was so good, to make employees think twice before ditching it. From Andrew’s perspective, if it really was haunted, he was the one who had to deal with applicant after applicant quitting as soon as they laid eyes on the guest who would never leave.
“So…honestly, I can’t say I won’t freak out, considering how next level this is,” I told him, feeling compelled to go with honesty, “but yeah. I think I can handle it, mostly because it’s important for someone to look after this place, look after the animals, so I’d do my best to work around anything that freaks me out. I mean, I have to say that I’ll believe it when I see it. But if ghosts really exist, as long as it isn’t some serial killer who stuck around to keep gutting people, I’ve always thought it’d be cool to find out we can exist after we die.”
The thing is, I think I did believe him. I thought there might really be a ghost there, because otherwise, why take it so seriously? It could’ve been that Andrew had only glimpsed her out of the corner of his eye a few times and could ascribe it to lack of sleep, but he was literally worried about word getting out. I thought that being halfway to believing him would give me the mental preparation I needed if I saw her. At least, I’d hoped so.
It turned out that most of my time would be spent at the security desk in the main building, near the entrance. Real-time footage played through thirty-five cameras around the zoo, all on a large screen that was five cameras across and seven cameras top to bottom. The cameras were impressive. I would mention the resolution, say something about them being 4K, but Andrew explained some stuff about how it’s actually the lens that is the biggest selling point. Looking at these cameras on the giant screen, I could see practically every corner of the place, and if I brought up one camera in particular to encompass 2/3 of the screen, I could zoom in so far that it felt like I could use it to check if one of the animals had fleas.
The zoo was well lit, not surprising considering nighttime was apparently the zoo’s business hours, and all of the tall lamps had red bulbs. For those of you who know why, A+ to you. For those who don’t, fun fact, it’s because red is closest to the dark and your eyes don’t need to strain to adjust to it. That meant I didn’t need my flashlight all that often, and even that was red, a solid name-brand one that had been on my desk when I arrived. I kept the white lights on back in the security room, though, because I didn’t want to make my brain think it was time to get tired.
When I headed out for my first sweep on that first night, I had the folded map in my pocket, but I already knew my way around. The layout of the zoo wasn’t that difficult to memorize, since there were only eleven expansive enclosures, and after the interview I walked around for half an hour to start training my memory. I’ll admit, working in a dark environment was creepier than I thought it would be.
I do want to mention the high quality of the zoo. The size of each enclosure was considerable, and the greenery was natural, hinting that they’d hired a pricey professional just to do landscaping toward the front of the enclosures after buying the land. The backs of the enclosures backed up into forestry, and from the estimate I got from Andrew, it seemed each of the animals had plenty of roaming space, including the small lake at the northwest corner and a manmade lake for one of the animals in particular. When I considered all of that, the thought passed through my head about how horrible it would be if word got out about the zoo having a ghost and needing to relocate, because it’d be devastatingly expensive.
My orders were to walk the zoo once every hour. This was my first security gig, so I’m not sure if that’s more or less than typical, but I had my comfy hiking boots on, the ones I’d saved up for and invested in a couple years earlier and were perfect for a job where I had to do laps around an area. This job was one that I didn’t have to worry about my shoulder pain worsening, since it was mostly about being on my feet. I take one or two Vicodin a day, depending on how bad my pain is. It came in handy in high school, actually. With a flexible ‘take as needed’ prescription, I occasionally sold pills for extra cash.
There wasn’t much to step in and there weren’t even any dips in the concrete sidewalks that I followed around in a route that easily led me back and forth until I made my way back to the office. The first three nights were actually boring. I would have thought Andrew had been pranking me about the ghost, but like I said, it hadn’t felt like that. And he hadn’t been specific about when she showed up for new people, or even for him.
To keep myself busy, I’d brought my e-reader with me, and I got into a cycle of looking over each of the cameras every time I hit the end of a chapter. I’m a pretty fast reader, so it was a good system. Also, every once in a while, I looked up if something moving caught my eye, like an owl flying close enough for the camera to catch it, but that’s about it.
Then, every hour on the hour, I did a walk through. The fourth night, I was passing by the small lake at the back left corner of the property when I saw her.
People say that you can tell if someone’s staring at you, that there’s some sixth sense humans have. It’s not true; they’ve done experiments. But the thing is, all those experiments were of someone human looking at them. After this last shift, I would guess that the sixth sense that sends goosebumps down your arms, the one that makes you feel an intangible pressure, that slides your body toward fight or flight mode, might be true of…other things.
Slowly coming to a stop at the disturbing feeling, I hesitantly looked around, through the trees. Then my heart skipped a beat and my breath hitched. It was startling because she wasn’t moving. Just standing among the trees, staring at me. I broke out in a cold sweat as I stared back at her, unsure what to do. I didn’t run. I didn’t try to talk to her. I just stood there. So, there’s my answer to Andrew: I didn’t freak out. I just froze.
The woman was Latina, her skin tone pallid from death, and was dressed as he’d described her, in slacks and a silky blue blouse. And she was soaked, as if she’d just walked out of the lake. Beyond that, her shirt was drenched in blood from what looked like claw marks across her abdomen. Her eyes were dark and penetrating, boring holes into me, as if she were able to get any and all knowledge that she wanted about me simply by glaring. The fabric of her shirtsleeves clung to her skin and was dripping, as was her long black hair. Speaking of her hair, it appeared to have seaweed woven into it, or maybe she also grew seaweed along with hair. Not my area of expertise.
The look on her face was indescribable. There was something deep in her eyes, behind her closed-off expression, that made my heart beat rapidly. Maybe I would’ve projected some emotion into her face if I’d had any idea of what she was capable of, whether she could move objects, or possess me, or if all she did was hang around. As things stood, I was left just projecting my fears, which gave me the impression that she was cross with me simply for being present. It felt like I was trespassing, even though I was a dozen feet back from the fence that encircled the enclosure. And also, this was my job so I was explicitly allowed to be here.
She was disturbingly close, and remained unnaturally still. If she had attacked me, I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done. Ran, probably, but considering ghosts probably don’t follow the laws of physics, maybe she could’ve chased me at Usain Bolt speed. For all I knew, she could teleport.
After an amount of time that felt awkwardly long, I finally spoke up.
“Hi,” I croaked.
The woman slowly tilted her head but didn’t otherwise move. I’d forgotten to ask Andrew for her name, I realized, but he had mentioned her death had been before his time, so maybe he didn’t know.
Swallowing hard, I tried to take a slow, deep breath, even though it felt like there was a cinder block on my chest. “So, I, uh…I work here now,” I said slowly. “I’m night shift security.” Pausing, I kept trying to gather information from her demeanor but failed. “Is that okay?”
At that, I saw a hint of curiosity flash across her face. “Why would it not be?” Her voice sounded completely normal, which was an off-putting contrast to her appearance.
Good question. Hell if I know the answer. “I don’t know. I mean…you were here first. I don’t know if you feel like I’m…intruding…or something.”
“You’re just doing your job,” she said, her tone softening a smidge.
I waited to see if she wanted to say anything else before saying, “Right.” Can I get you anything? A towel? Some bandages? “I’ll be going now.”
The woman made no movement to come after me as I gradually took one step, then another, keeping her in my sights as I walked off. I finally had to turn to face forward, unable or unwilling to be seen by her foolishly walking away backwards. Instead of continuing my sweep, I took the path that would lead me back to the security room. I kept looking behind me and felt her eyes on me all the way back, though I didn’t see her following me. At that point, even if she hadn’t moved an inch, my brain was on red alert when it came to self-preservation and figured I would continue to feel like a wet hand might grab me from behind at any moment.
Finally, I returned to the security room, swiping my card across the panel at the back door with a beep. Opening the door, darting inside, and slamming it behind me, I walked to the far side of the room and turned around, putting my back to the wall. Until I’d gotten back, I hadn’t noticed how fast I’d been walking, how quickly I’d been gasping for air. Leaning back against the wall, my legs turned to jelly and I slowly slid to the floor.
And that was it. My first sighting of the ghost. I’d thought that if I had seen her, there would be some part of me that was skeptical, that would reason my way out of it, convinced it was a prank. But I knew. She wasn’t a person. At least, not anymore.
​
/storiesbykaren

Do you think this is perminant or are they messing with their blocking methods?

there isn't much site blocking extensions, and they don't block them very good, i could just click unblock site, i don't want, i need to permanently block them

This story was originally written July 2023.
You might have heard of me. I was a social media influencer for two years.
I know kids have “influencer” as one of their top professions these days, but for me it was all an accident, really. I uploaded a few YouTube videos back in 2019, in the summer I finished school. All I did was rant about movies. I had a few notes, not a full script, and just spouted off to my laptop camera about inaccurate science, bad casting choices, real nitpicky stuff. In about six months I’d got 200 subscribers.
I was at university then, and I mentioned my videos to some of my uni friends. They subbed and told their friends, and I got up to 1,000 sub by January 2020. My videos were only about ten minutes long, and I had nowhere near the views to monetise. I was making one a week, but not on any sort of schedule. It was just something I did when I was bored.
Then the pandemic hit. A lot of students here in England basically got locked into their halls of residence (that’s dorms for any Americans reading), but I was lucky enough to get back to my parents’ before then. So I was doing what my uni laughably called “remote learning”, which basically meant a couple of video lectures a week, some worksheets, and lots and lots of my own research. I won’t bore you with the topic of my course; it’s not relevant.
I’m not exactly stereotypically pretty. I’ve come to accept that. My hair is stringy, my nose is too big, my face is profoundly asymmetrical, my complexion is strange and acned, my teeth are crooked … You get the idea. You can only do so much with makeup and hair that covers your face. I probably have fewer friends than I would if I looked like other people, and it actually took a lot of courage to make that first video - and even more courage to upload it.
I can only assume that’s the reason I went viral. It certainly wasn’t the high production values, or the tightly-written scripts, or the quality of my research. On the 9th of April I had 1,322 subscribers. On the 10th it was over 8,000. By the end of April it was up to 300,000, and I had actually monetised my channel.
The comments were … well, they were varied. Lots of hate because of my looks, but lots of love from people who just appreciated what I put out there, calling out others for their negative comments. I know many social media stars struggle with unkind comments, but I’d got used to it. Let’s be honest, they weren’t nice, but neither were they untrue. And comments under your video are easier to ignore than comments in the street. I was making decent money after all. If you were one of those commenters, you know which side you were on, and I love you either way. Thanks for the engagement - it’s not easy to gain financially from your unusual appearance!
The trouble with going viral is that it doesn’t last. Competing in the fast-paced world of internet stardom takes a lot of effort. I started experimenting with other things - YouTube shorts, TikTok, Instagram, pretty much anything going. The format that turned out to work best was actually TikTok. I’d bought some skimpy outfits and did ridiculous little dances. I quickly reached over a thousand views per video, and while I wasn’t up to their creator tier, it still worked. A well-known cosmetics company asked to sponsor my videos.
Cosmetics! Me! I guess they were going for woke points or something. I didn’t care, they offered me more money than I knew what to do with, as long as my views stayed high. So I started making 2-minute videos. A dance without make-up, then I applied the make-up - being sure to show the brand name clear and up-close - and then the same dance with make-up. If this is ringing any bells with you, then yes - that was me. And no, stupid - that’s not my real name.
I’d got used to undesired attention of course. Along with the unpleasant comments, I got my fair share of unwelcome male approaches. For a few hours after any upload, about half of my DMs were from men, and some women (or men with female account names), asking to see more of me. I wasn’t a camgirl, though I suppose I wasn’t a million miles away from one; but I could have been. I did seriously consider it a few times, but never actually followed through.
And half of the rest of my DMs, and a good portion of the public comments, were from angry women. What made me think I had the right to show off like that? How could I bring their favourite cosmetics brand into disrepute? But I’ve got pretty thick skin (hey, I can make that joke, you can’t), and mostly laughed the comments off and ignored them.
That was, in hindsight, a mistake.
By September my uni was reopening for in-person teaching. I was working six or seven hours a day just to keep up with everything, and had a couple more brands sponsoring me. Being an influencer isn’t just about filming for ten minutes a day and watching the money come in!
So I was going to tutorials an hour a day, watching video lectures at 2x speed, and ignoring my assignments in favour of making videos and replying to messages. It’s not like my pointless degree was helping with my real job.
Okay fine. It was geology. Rocks and stuff. You happy now? I bet you can’t tell the difference between sylvite and carnallite just by licking it, can you?
Anyway, the point is I came close to being chucked out. Actually I had to repeat the second year. At least I could afford it.
So anyway, I somehow got through to the end of my second year, the end of my second year again, and part way through my third year. I was passing my exams - just - and through several reinventions I had managed to maintain my social influencer role. Last Autumn I was getting some good views, and cash, back on YouTube. I was getting pretty good at make-up (I had an exclusive deal with one company on TikTok, and another deal with a different cosmetics company on YouTube). The videos that did well then were me with experimental hairstyles and not much in the way of clothes, putting on makeup for a few minutes, then reading out-of-copyright fiction in my patented “YouTube voice”. If you can imagine a cross between Shania Twain and Marge Simpson then… well, then you’re weird, but you’ve pretty much got it.
Then, last December, a week or so before the Christmas holidays, I went out with my friends. I had made a decent number, both girls and guys, by then. I could never quite tell whether it was my personality (which I assure you is fantastic), my influencer status, or the cash I was liberal with (it always seemed to be my round, and I didn’t mind). There were even a couple of boys who were keen on me, though I hadn’t done anything about it yet. Eight of us went out together to celebrate a birthday. It wasn’t actually anybody’s birthday that day, but Shireen had a Christmas Day birthday, and she wanted a proper party.
Now I look quite different in real life than I do online. I think the technical term is “frumpy” - jeans, trainers, fluffy jumper and a hat, or maybe a hoodie. The birthday girl had somehow convinced me to put a bit more effort in, and had helped me pick out some heels and a knee-length silver dress. Make-up was easy for me of course, and so I got dressed up and off we went to the Black Swan.
The Black Swan has several great qualities about it. One: it’s cheap. Two: it does good food. Three: it’s a couple of hundred metres from The Bar. We had a decent meal, a few drinks, and around 9 we walked to The Bar.
To be more precise, they walked. I wobbled. If you’ve watched my videos you might have seen me in heels, but did you ever see me walk in them? Didn’t think so.
The Bar is open til 3 in the morning. It looks respectable enough from the outside, especially in the afternoon; but after about 11, when most pubs close, it fills up with students drinking expensive-looking drinks. And almost every night, somebody jumps up onto a table, and then everybody’s up there dancing. In The Bar, either you hold your drink tightly, or you lose it.
I’d done this before, and I can handle my alcohol. I’ve stayed at The Bar till chuckout more than a few times, and I’ve been wobbly on the way home, but I’ve never thrown up or passed out. And so I was surprised when I woke up. The last thing I remembered was Stu saying he was tired, and Shireen replying that it wasn’t even midnight yet. Now I was lying on the hard wooden floor of my living room.
My head pounded. Daylight streamed through the window, and I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes. My hands were wet and sticky.
I looked at them. They were covered in blood.
I looked down. My heels were across the room, but I was still wearing my dress. It, also, was covered in blood, a huge stain across the chest.
Panic set in. What happened to me last night? I checked myself out and could find no injuries. Where did the blood come from?
Standing up, I realised it was worse than that. Red pools stained the wooden floor. I don’t know much medicine, but if somebody had lost this much blood, I couldn’t see how they could have survived.
I stood up, unsure whether my shaking was from the shock or the alcohol. This was when I saw a shirt on the floor behind me. White, with a subtle pattern. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that it wasn’t my shirt. I lived alone, and rarely invited people back to my flat. I looked around some more. A pair of men’s black leather shoes by the door. And then I saw it.
I suppose, rather, I should say him. He was naked except for a pair of dark blue jeans, slumped in the open doorway to the kitchen, covered in blood, and very, very, dead.
I panicked then. I’m calmer now, so let’s take a moment to describe my conclusions that morning. I had got very drunk. I had met a guy. We’d come back to my flat. We’d been getting naked (the shoes and shirt weren’t bloodied). Then, for some reason, we’d had an argument or a fight. The body had stab wounds in the chest, and a pool of blood had congealed onto the wooden floor of the living room and the linoleum of the kitchen where the man collapsed. How did those stab wounds get there? I didn’t know for sure, but a quick glance at my kitchen counter showed that my sharp carving knife was missing. It was all coming together. I didn’t know if he had picked up the knife, or if I had; I didn’t know why either of us would do that. I didn’t even know his name, and later when I checked his pockets, I couldn’t find any ID.
There was a lot I didn’t know. But I’m smart. So once I was done crying on the floor (I think it was about two hours), I came up with a plan. This man was dead, and I couldn’t do anything about that. But what would the consequences be? There’s no need for my life to be ruined as well. I decided not to call the police. People go missing mysteriously all the time, he can just be another statistic and I’ll get on with my life.
The blood on Dave was mostly dry by now. (Sure, I didn’t know his name, but every bloke’s called Dave, right?) So I put a badly-fitting vest on him to soak up the remaining blood, and his shirt over the top, along with his shoes. His jeans were bloody, but they were dark, so hopefully it wouldn’t show up in low light. I couldn’t find his coat, which was odd given how cold it was, but this would have to do. I put my dress and heels in a plastic bag, and grabbed a spade that I never used. Had I missed anything?
The knife. The fucking knife. I searched all over for it, but by the time it got dark I still hadn’t found it. I knew I couldn’t delay for long, so I figured it was best to deal with Dave now, and find the knife later.
Eight o’clock in the evening came. I’m lucky I have parking right outside my house, no street cameras, and a ground-floor flat. I put the bag in the boot of my car and came back for the body.
Have you ever tried to move a dead person? It’s not easy, and I’m not exactly strong. I put my arm around his waist and eventually managed to heave him almost upright. “Come on Dave, that’s it. We’re gonna get you home. Maybe calm down on the tequila next time right? Try to keep it in, and don’t you dare vomit in my car, you sexy bastard.”
Oh come on, what do you want from me? I’m an influencer, not a stand-up comedian. And anyway, I don’t think anybody saw me during the several minutes it took to drag Dave to the passenger seat. I really wish I’d got round to buying a bigger car than the Fiat Punto I’d had since I was 18, but it was too late for that now.
There’s a place about an hour’s drive from me called Epping Forest. The Heritage Trust reckon it’s most famous for its huge tracts of unspoiled wildlife, thousands of trees, and Iron Age settlements. But around here it’s best known as the place where murderers and gang members bury bodies. So off I trundled in my 1.2 litre pensioner-mobile. I arrived around 9:30, checked Google Maps, and drove offroad into the woods.
Do you know how long it takes to dig a grave? The answer is: a long time! By dawn I’d only managed a hole about two feet. Oh, and it was my third try, because the first two times I found too much rock. Well, it would have to do. In went Dave, and I shovelled the ground back over him. I thought I could put my clothes in with him, but it was a shallow grave, and when the inevitable dog-walker finds it I didn’t want them linked back to me. I mean, there’s my DNA in there for sure, but let’s not make it too easy for them, right? So I chucked the spade in a river, and the clothes went back home with me, including the vest I’d lent him.
Now in England we have a thing called ANPR everywhere. The police can just type in a car registration and see exactly where it’s been from traffic cameras. I needed an alibi. Why had I gone to Epping Forest? For a hike of course! So I walked around for a few hours, got breakfast at a pub, and told the staff about all the wacky adventures I’d had that night. And while I was there, for the first time in a good long time, I checked my phone.
Hundreds of messages, of course. But only one sent a shiver down my spine.
Jolly_Gal_56234
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID
My heart thumped. My ears started ringing. I felt dizzy, nearly passed out. How could anybody know?
Of course nobody knew. I actually got messages like this fairly often. Just some idiot trying to wind people up. They’d probably sent a dozen messages just like it, to random people, and I just blocked her. Still it rattled me. I finished my breakfast, paid up, walked back to my car, and drove home.
My flat was just as I left it. Dave was gone, but his blood was still there. I scrubbed the floor for hours, and it helped a bit, but you could still see the stains. Exhausted, I showered and went to bed.
The next morning I woke up. I hadn’t posted anything for a day and a half, so I needed to do something about that. Scrolling through my messages, one stood out like a police light.
Jolly_Gal_28473
YOU’VE BEEN A BAD GIRL 🔪
Shit. SHIT! What the fuck is going on? I stared at my phone, paralysed with indecision. When I finally snapped out of it I made sure the door was locked, and tried to come up with a plan.
I had no idea who was sending these. Maybe they didn’t really know anything. You send stupid messages like that to hundreds of people, you’re gonna come across one who’s actually done something bad, right? I poured myself a big glass of gin, decided that nobody could know anything, and made a video.
Remember that one where I didn’t speak at all, just danced for three minutes dressed like 90s Britney to 70s disco music, titled “HANGOVER DANCE”? Yeah, that’s the one. I didn’t trust myself to speak without breaking, but I could dance about as well as I ever could.
The rest of the day I answered messages, emailed my sponsors, and considered getting an agent. It’s still just me doing everything, and that Sunday afternoon, I really didn’t want to. I also spent a few hours scrubbing the wooden floor with baking soda and vinegar, and looking for the knife.
I kept getting messages from Jolly_Gal. It didn’t matter how much I blocked her, she just popped up again the next day with different numbers at the end of her username. Always all-caps, just a single sentence.
YOU DON’T DESERVE IT
YOU’LL GET WHAT’S COMING TO YOU
OWN UP
DELETE YOUR ACCOUNT
Exactly one message a day, but always at different times. I decided it was a bot, and it was just coincidence that it started when it did. Until Christmas Day.
I’d been back at my parents’ for a few days, and endured the usual conversations about what I was going to do for a “proper job” after uni. They’re great, and really supportive. They’ve just never understood what an “influencer” really is, and that “playing on my phone” for six hours a day counts as work. My brother Rich gets it, but the rest of my family is honestly baffled.
Anyway, Christmas morning comes. All four of us were in the house together (my brother’s 17 so he still lives there), and we gathered together in the living room opening presents. It was a couple of weeks since the incident, and I still had nightmares every night, and those sudden panic attacks - you know, when you’re sure you’re going to be found out - but I was getting used to it. It had happened, I couldn’t change it, and I’d have to keep it secret for the rest of my life; but it was becoming a sort of background hum. I don’t know if that’s too quick, but I suppose I’ve learned to handle difficulty in my life.
Until we finished opening presents and I checked my phone.
Jolly_Gal_814385
HAPPY CHRISTMAS
And underneath, a photo of my kitchen knife, stained with blood.
I ran out of the house in tears.
Rich found me, sitting on the wooden bridge down the road from the house, my legs dangling over the river. I came here a lot when I was a teenager, so it was the first place he looked. I’d left my phone on the living room floor, and the three of them had seen the message, so he knew what triggered me. He just didn’t know the full story.
Well, I told him. I mean, not everything, obviously. But I told him how this person had been harassing me for weeks. He listened sympathetically, like he’s always done, and asked if there was anything he could do to help. I didn’t say anything; I just turned around, hugged him, and cried into his Christmas sweater.
After about half an hour we went back to the house. Rich explained things to my parents, thank goodness. I don’t think I could have handled it.
The rest of the holiday was … okay, I guess. More messages from Jolly_Gal, but only text. I made videos most days, and met all two of my old schoolfriends for drinks, movies and shopping. They’re big fans of my channels. I even took Rich out for drinks one evening, though it took us four pubs to find somewhere that wouldn’t ID him. He’s a bit of a babyface.
I did all I could not to think about Dave. I put him to the back of my mind, letting him live in the shed at the bottom of the garden of my psyche where he couldn’t disturb me. I guess that’s why it came as a shock to me, when I packed my stuff into the boot of my car to head back to uni.
There was one suitcase I’d packed but hadn’t got round to taking into the house. And peeking around the edge was that plastic bag. I’d forgotten to get rid of it!
Dad was helping me load the car, so I couldn’t do anything about it. I tucked it out of sight, finished loading up, said goodbye, and drove back to uni. It was dark when I got back, so I unpacked everything else, triple-bagged my bloody clothes, left my phone at home (no tracking me!), and walked two miles to drop them into somebody else’s wheelie bin.
The next morning I checked my messages.
Jolly_Gal_12592
WELCOME HOME
And a photo of me dumping the bag the night before.
You know what? This didn’t bother me. I mean, it did bother me, but not as much as I guess Jolly_Gal hoped. I’ve been bullied and harassed most of my life, and I’ve got pretty good at ignoring it. Sure, it was an escalation - she was actually following me - but it was just one of almost thirty messages. Jolly_Gal was hoping to destroy me. Instead, she hardened my resolve.
Clearly she had enough evidence to go to the police, but she hadn’t. And obviously she lived nearby. Now I’m no hacker, but you don’t do a job like mine without learning your way around technology. So I started sleuthing. I hadn’t bothered blocking her after the third or fourth message, so I made a list of all the messages, including timecodes. I’ve got a geology degree (almost), and we have techniques to analyse rock strata. Finally I had a genuine use for all that studying I sort of did!
Jolly_Gal was not as clever as she thought. She’d got sloppy. About half of her messages were sent at strange hours, on the hour. These were presumably posted by her bot. But the other messages were all sent between 7 and 8 am, or between 6 and 10 pm. So I guessed that she has a normal 9-5 day job, or maybe she’s a student.
Next I searched all the social media sites I could think of for Jolly_Gal or JollyGal usernames. There are a few, so please don’t go harassing people with that username! I don’t want innocent people to get hurt. After a few hours I had profiles of all Jolly_Gals. Pictures, locations, partial travel history, even birthdays for some of them. I discounted those who clearly weren’t in England, but I still had too many to narrow it down. The photos had no EXIF data so I couldn’t tell the type of phone or camera they used.
So my days became something like this: Five hours doing uni stuff, five hours working on my socials, and an hour or two learning digital sleuthing. I still went out with my friends sometimes, but made sure not to drink too much. I know how to have a good time without being drunk!
The breakthrough came by total chance. I rarely read the local papers, and just got lucky one afternoon in March. I was waiting for a friend in the pub after lectures, and there was a copy of the Post somebody had left on a table. So I flicked through it. The local council was rubbish at doing traffic. Some group of OAPS was organising a May Day celebration. And a woman had been convicted of body-snatching.
I recognised her! There was a photo of a woman in her early twenties. She’d been arrested when a corpse went missing back in December, and they’d seen her take it on the morgue’s CCTV. She’d been released on bail. “Prevention of the lawful and decent burial of a dead body” is a rare crime these days, so she hadn’t been sentenced yet; instead she was released until her sentencing, expected to be in August. Her name was Jenny Smith, which is so common as to be almost useless - that is, if you don’t have a profile of her on your laptop at home!
The report also gave her address. So I started hatching a plan. I texted my friend that I wouldn’t make it, and went home.
Jolly_Gal, or rather, Jenny, lived near me, and actually went to the same university. She had accounts on Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, Twitter, and a few others. Of course you can’t get Jolly_Gal by itself these days, but my profile gave all her precise usernames. I spent my evening watching her videos and reading her tweets. And then I found the smoking gun.
Jenny had posted a video on TikTok last June bitching about me. She’s way prettier than me, and yet I’d got all the subs and follows. She deserved all those sponsorship deals. It wasn’t fair that I had hundreds of thousands of subs and she only had a few thousand. She even said I was ugly and deserved to die.
Well, she got one out of two right, I guess. You can decide which one.
It all started to slot into place. Jenny was absurdly jealous of me, so she’d hatched a plan to destroy me. She must have roofied me in The Bar, got me and Dave back to my place, stabbed him, poured blood everywhere, and taken the knife home. I mean, I don’t know anything about forensic science, and I was drugged and panicked when I woke up that morning. I’d have no way of knowing that Dave had died days before he ended up in my flat!
I’d never managed to get all the blood out of the wooden flooring, and ended up putting a really misplaced rug over it. I chiselled off a sample and gave it to one of my friends who was doing a PhD in biology. It took a bit of persuading, but he ran an analysis on it.
It was pig’s blood.
Fuck Jenny. She’s not Jenny, or Jolly_Gal, she’s fucking Carrie!
She planned to destroy me. She ruined my mental health, she framed me for murder. All because I was more popular on TikTok than she was. Well, two can play at that game. I didn’t deserve what Jenny did to me. She did.
I thought about this all night, coming up with plan after plan, weighing them in my head. I wanted two things: to destroy Jenny, and to feel good about it for myself. Finally I had a course of action I’m actually rather proud of.
I decided to start slow. I did something anybody could have done - I mocked up a poster. At the top was “Jenny Smith - body snatcher!”. Underneath were two pictures, her Insta profile pic and the courthouse photo from the paper, and between them: “From This … To This!” And all her various social media handles to top it off. I printed hundreds of these, and pinned them all around the university and her street.
I’ve never thought of myself as an unkind person - God knows I’ve suffered enough myself to be sympathetic to others. But I’m willing to admit I felt a lot of satisfaction seeing her comments fill up with accusations and links to the online article. Jenny carried on making videos, but I could tell she was suffering. Good!
That was stage one. I had to up the ante for stage two. Jenny had covered me and my flat with pig’s blood, so I think we all know what’s coming next.
I pondered for a long time whether I should do it in the day or the night. But you know what they say - go big or go home. I scoped out her house for a while, and found out that she leaves her kitchen window, at the back of the house, open. Now I’m not the most athletic girl in the world, but I can be pretty determined when I want to be. So one night around 2 am I walked to her house - it’s only about half a mile - and climbed through the window.
I almost gave myself a heart attack when I knocked a glass over on the kitchen sink! Luckily it didn’t smash. I hid in a corner and waited for a full half hour before I decided Jenny hadn’t heard me. Then I snuck upstairs, slow as anything, and crept into her room.
Actually, the first room wasn’t hers. She shared with a couple of other students. Thank fuck I checked first! The second room was the right one. She was asleep, alone, in a double bed. I was so quiet that the only thing I could hear was my heart pounding in my chest as I opened my canvas bag, gently deposited its contents onto the pillow next to her, and took a photo. It didn’t come out that well - I couldn’t use the flash - but hey, I have a souvenir!
I really wish I’d seen her face when she woke up the next morning, staring at a pig’s head. She didn’t post on her socials for a week after that, and for two days she even forgot to send me a threatening message.
I’m sorry? You think I’m done? Oh, my sweet summer child. I’ve barely begun.
Jenny had a boyfriend, Abdul. I made sure he wasn’t around when I broke in, but stage three involved him in a big way.
Abdul was also at our university, a year younger than me, a year older than Jenny. He wasn’t very active on social media, but he did tend to broadcast his activity on Twitter. And what do you know? He’s also a fan of The Bar. So I spent the next month planning my move. I bought a new clubbing dress and heels - hey, I kinda missed that outfit! - and asked around for the other thing I needed. Some things you can’t just buy in Next, or a local butcher’s, but eventually I managed it.
I got my chance one Friday in May. Abdul had loudly announced on Twitter that he was excited for his boys’ night out in The Bar, and Jenny had been gushing about a girls’ night on the whole other side of town. Perfect. I spent hours on my makeup, and got to The Bar around ten. Abdul and his mates were having a drinking contest, and leching up at the girls dancing on the tables.
I figured I had a good long while before he would be ready, so I had a couple of drinks - not too much, but like I said I can handle myself, and I knew Jenny wasn’t around - and got up on the tables myself for a bit. Then about midnight Abdul’s friend got another round in, while Abdul was in the loo. This was my chance. I walked up to their table - which had no dancing feet on it, but a heck of a lot of spilled beer - and started talking to them, saying I thought their friend was hot.
“Uh, what the fuck?” “Not a chance in hell.” “Get lost, freak!”
Lovely chaps. But they were too far gone to notice me dropping something into Abdul’s double-whiskey-and-coke. For all I know, it’s the exact same thing Jenny used on me all those months ago.
Abdul came back and downed his whiskey in one gulp. I was worried he was going to vomit it up, but he held it in and blamed his difficulty on the coke fizz. Yeah mate, sure, sure.
Not too long after, he started to fade. His friends were really taking the piss out of him for being such a lightweight. Well, when I came over, the pisstaking just got worse. I introduced myself (with a fake name, duh) and told him he was hot. Believe it or not, it was only about twenty seconds before he put his tongue down my throat. Wow, I’m not sure I even needed to bother with the roofie!
His friends, who had been so intent on being mean to me, now turned their attention to him. I suggested we ditch them and go back to his place (I’d checked, it was only five minutes’ walk sober) - and off we went.
That was the first time I had sex. I’m sure I don’t need to go into details, but we did a lot of stuff, and I enjoyed it. I’m not sure if that’s because it was good, or because he was good, or because I knew what it was all for. I was impressed that he managed to keep going as long as he did in his state, but I do feel a bit sorry for him; from his Twitter he seems like a decent guy.
When he finally fell asleep I left. I’d got what I came for - pictures. And the next day I made a new account and sent a DM to Jenny.
At first I blurred my face, or chose shots that didn’t include it. A bit of editing and I could have been anybody. I watched their messy breakup on Twitter, Jenny hurling accusations, Abdul protesting his innocence. I know this is the age of social media, but I never understood why people play these things out in public.
And then, after posting a picture a day for a few weeks (I’d taken a lot of pictures), I sent one that showed my face clearly.
Jenny had managed to restrain herself from replying before, but now she knew who I was. She was furious! The very idea that her boyfriend had cheated on her with ME, of all people, was unbelievable. And this was exactly the outcome I’d been going for.
Jolly_Gal was broken. She’d ruined her reputation. She’d lost her boyfriend. She had nightmares about pigs (okay, so I don’t know that for certain, but in my imagination she woke up screaming every night). She was possibly going to prison. And now she knew that not only was I more successful than her as an influencer, but I was the one to steal her lover. She still sent messages, at first angry, but they soon degenerated into pleading. “Please stop.” “I’m sorry.” “We can work this out.” Jolly_Gal without CAPS LOCK, it was glorious to see.
In fact it was almost perfect. Three stages of my plan were complete, and only one remained. Jenny’s sentencing was in three weeks, so I had to move quickly.
She had two flatmates, so I needed to work around them. They weren’t particularly active on Twitter, but Jenny was. I knew from her tweets that while her flatmates had gone home, she was staying on a couple of weeks after the end of term. She didn’t say why publicly, but it was for her trial. No flatmates, no boyfriend. Now was the time.
And that brings us up to date. I’ve typed this up over the last few days, and saved as a draft. The final chapter, hopefully, comes tonight.
*******
I’m at Jenny’s house, and I’ve just called the police.
I turned up at Jenny’s door just after seven. Luck was with me - she’d tweeted that she was expecting a Deliveroo takeout. And I got there first.
The idiot actually kept the knife. I’d seen it when I was in her room. When she answered the doorbell, expecting food, and saw me - ah, the look on her face was priceless.
“I’m so sorry! Please, let’s just talk. I didn’t mean it to get this -”
I stalked towards her, anger in my face. Jenny fled upstairs. Perfect! She went into her room and shut the door, but I was like the furies of Greek legend. I smashed the door in, and looked on as Jenny cowered on her bed.
In full daylight, I saw the knife took pride of place in what looked like a shrine. She had photos of me printed out, and she’d written on them “BITCH”, “WHORE”, “FREAK” and all sorts of other hateful words.
Jenny had tried to make me into a murderer, so I gave her what she wanted. I grabbed the knife and stood over her. The coward shrank into the bed, begging for forgiveness, pleading for her life. Unfortunately for her I was not inclined to oblige. I plunged the knife into her chest, just as she had done to Dave all those many months ago. Jenny whimpered like a whipped dog, and after the ninth stab (yes, I counted), she stopped.
The police are on their way. I’m definitely going to jail after this. But Jenny got what was coming to her. We could both have lived happily, but Jenny chose otherwise.
And me? I passed my degree. I have friends. And jail or not, I have a life.
Burn in hell, Jolly_Gal.

I was scraping a website for a personal project without using a VPN (stupid, I know) and I'm pretty sure they blocked my router's IP, because now no device connected to my router can access the site, they all get an Access Denied error.
I can still access the site through my phone's 5G or by turning on a VPN while connected to my router, but it's annoying, and I'd like to get myself unblocked.
I read that if I kept my router unplugged for a few hours that the ISP would assign it a new public IP address which I thought would fix the problem. However after leaving my router unplugged for >24hr, the website is still blocked, so I guess that didn't work.
My next step is contacting my ISP to change my IP on their end, which I'd rather not have to do. Any idea why unplugging my router for an extended period isn't fixing the issue?
In case it's relevant, I live in an apartment building in Canada.

So, here is a little context before we get into this whole deal. My girlfriend and I established months ago that I didn't like her texting her exes or having anyone present from her past with whom she has had flirtatious or romantic relations. It's just how I am; if she didn't like it, she should've left then. It's also worth mentioning that I know she is texting her ex because I have her Instagram, but she forgot I have access to it. I also know the guy's account because when she was at my house once, he tried to text her, and I asked her to block him, and she did. Fast forward five months, and here we are. We've been dating for eight months, and it's been a sketchy eight months, to say the least. But I'm in it for the long run, and I've had her back throughout this entire time. I have refused to give up on her because, based on her past, she had it rough, but I love her for her and not her past. I've done it all for her; I've stayed up late so I could make sure she is okay mentally or physically; if she was sick, I'd ordered her soup; if she needed cream for her eczema, I ordered it online for her if she was upset I'd listen and put everything aside for her, I even taught her how to drive for god sakes, and even when I wasn't in the wrong, I'd apologize to her so she felt better. And not to mention the hundreds of little thoughtful things I've done for her, like sending her a pin of her favorite princess with a handmade note and a drawing of her favorite show characters and even making animations for us and edits. She has done some things for me occasionally, so it's not like she doesn't do them either. It is also worth mentioning that when it was my turn to express something of concern to me, she would get mad at me for overthinking or claimed I was just being "insecure." I wanted to marry this girl, but now I wonder if I can even trust her, and of course, trust means everything in a relationship. Like I said, I only had two boundaries, and to think she already broke one, which was so easy to prevent, crushed my soul. I will be 100% honest here because I want honest advice and not biased advice. She and I are long-distance, so it's much tougher than being face-to-face. So that already makes it hard for those going to say, go up to her and confront her or talk to her in a calm space. I want to be more mature, so I'm trying to keep my cool even though I know deep down this stings, and she is the first love of my life. Back to the point, I found out she unblocked the guy today and texted him first. She asked him how was the country/city he visited, which, by the way, that same country/ city he visited is the same country/city she lives in, and on top of that, remember when I mentioned he texted her at my house? He also visited that same country/city before I told her to block him. He responded, "What happened?" and she said, "You texted me on Epal that you visited my country." Yeah, guys, she did Epal before we dated too. (Epal is a site for paying a person to spend time with them). It's also ironic because 2 days ago, she told me one of her old clients had texted her on there to catch up, but her ex did too, and she never told me about him, only the old client, and she still hasn't told me, yet she showed me a screenshot of the old client catching up with her which could've been a client like she said. But even then she never mentioned her ex reaching out on there too. She had claimed that she was delusional when she loved him, so she didn't really love him, but if that's the case, why would she ever text him again, especially if she knows it's my boundary? They haven't spoken since (which was 2 hours ago) because the guy hasn't replied yet, but what should I do? I'm anxious and scared, and I took a screenshot of their chat for backup if I need it as proof, but I don't want to use it yet because I'm unsure if I'm overreacting. I haven't said a word to her because I want to walk away from this as the bigger person while also getting some revenge for wasting my time and emotions. The amount of time, effort, tears, and money I put into this relationship and the fact that she still hasn't told me is bothering me. What should I do?

Seems unblockit site is down( This site can’t be reached )not working for me are you having the same, hopefully there will be a fix

There are certain pubs, in certain boroughs of London that are stuck in a time warp.
The landlord, he stacked glasses branded with beers long extinct.
Come On Eileen played on a jukebox with crackling speakers.
A fruit machine, a hole in its side, inflicted 25 years earlier by a disgruntled day labourer, flashed.
‘You’re not from around here, are you pal?’
‘I am.’ The stranger replied.
The stranger took off his mask and sipped his pint. In the dank recesses of the pub, the landlord still couldn’t get a good look at him.
‘I came back,’ he paused, ‘for closure.’
‘Fuck me, son. It ain’t that damaging. I’m born and bred. And there ain’t no bats in my belfry.’
He wrapped a ham hock hand around a bottle of Lucozade and chinned it. Splashes of the orange drink fell down a heavily stained Donnay t-shirt.
GB News played on a box TV.
The sound of some professional news pundit talked over Dexy and his Midnight Runners.
‘This Russian incursion into Poland represents an attack on NATO, and the U.K. has no choice but to respond with overwhelming force.’
The stranger checked his watch.
‘Churchill,’ the landlord said, ‘he wouldn’t have taken no rubbish from Putin. And he certainly wouldn’t have stood for an Indian PM.’
There are men in every pub in England who have a running monologue like this, whether anyone is listening or not.
Again, the stranger checked his watch.
‘Got somewhere to be?’ The landlord said accusatorily.
The stranger finished off his pint.
He went to pay, handing over a £20 note.
‘Just keep the change.’
‘On a 20! You’re not a queer, are you?’
‘Trust me. It’s the best thing that’ll happen to you today.’
‘In my day, when you did business with a bloke, you didn’t wear a poxy mask.’
The stranger checked his watch a final time. An orange banner blared out on the TV. Breaking news…
‘Closure,’ the stranger continued, ‘the psychiatrists say if we relive the trauma, we can learn to process it. Process what we lost and what we didn’t.’ He gestured around the bar.
The landlord sausage-fingered a cricket bat under the bar top.
‘Look, geezer, take off that fucking mask now, or I’ll give you one.’
First, he took down the hood. He was entirely bald.
Next, he removed the surgical mask. His face was a patchwork of scarred flesh.
‘I was ten miles from the blast site,’ he said, ‘I am ten miles from the blast site now. The other me. Of course, I can’t interact with him.’
‘Fuck me.’
The landlord didn’t get the chance to finish the thought.
‘I’ll be seeing you,’ the stranger said.
He clicked a button on his watch and dematerialised in a flash of white light.
But it was not as bright as the light that followed seconds later as London was hit by a one-megaton nuclear bomb, and life as we knew it, ended.

There are certain pubs, in certain boroughs of London, that are stuck in a time warp.
The landlord, he stacked glasses branded with beers long extinct.
Come On Eileen played on a jukebox with crackling speakers.
A fruit machine, a hole in its side, inflicted 25 years earlier by a disgruntled day labourer, flashed.
‘You’re not from around here, are you pal?’
‘I am.’ The stranger replied.
The stranger took off his mask and sipped his pint. In the dank recesses of the pub, the landlord still couldn’t get a good look at him.
‘I came back,’ he paused, ‘for closure.’
‘Fuck me, son. It ain’t that damaging. I’m born and bred. And there ain’t no bats in my belfry.’
He wrapped a ham hock hand around a bottle of Lucozade and chinned it. Splashes of the orange drink fell down a heavily stained Donnay t-shirt.
GB News played on a box TV.
The sound of some professional news pundit talked over Dexy and his Midnight Runners.
‘This Russian incursion into Poland represents an attack on NATO, and the U.K. has no choice but to respond with overwhelming force.’
The stranger checked his watch.
‘Churchill,’ the landlord said, ‘he wouldn’t have taken no rubbish from Putin. And he certainly wouldn’t have stood for an Indian PM.’
There are men in every pub in England who have a running monologue like this, whether anyone is listening or not.
Again, the stranger checked his watch.
‘Got somewhere to be?’ The landlord said accusatorily.
The stranger finished off his pint.
He went to pay, handing over a £20 note.
‘Just keep the change.’
‘On a 20! You’re not a queer, are you?’
‘Trust me. It’s the best thing that’ll happen to you today.’
‘In my day, when you did business with a bloke, you didn’t wear a poxy mask.’
The stranger checked his watch a final time. An orange banner on the TV read: Breaking news…
‘Closure,’ the stranger continued, ‘the psychiatrists say if we relive the trauma, we can learn to process it. Process what we lost and what we didn’t.’ He gestured around the bar.
The landlord sausage-fingered a cricket bat under the counter.
‘Look, geezer, take off that fucking mask now, or I’ll give you one.’
First, he took down the hood. He was entirely bald.
Next, he removed the surgical mask. His face was a patchwork of scarred flesh.
‘I was ten miles from the blast site,’ he said, ‘I am ten miles from the blast site now. The other me. Of course, I can’t interact with him.’
‘Fuck me.’
The landlord didn’t get the chance to finish the thought.
‘I’ll be seeing you,’ the stranger said.
He clicked a button on his watch and dematerialised in a flash of white light.
But it was not as bright as the light that followed seconds later as London was hit by a one-megaton nuclear bomb, and life as we knew it, ended.

i have a dell chromebook. everything is blocked (not through go guardian the district blocked everything) proxy sites are blocked, and websites for vpns are blocked. can’t even go into dev mode. ik it’s possible on our chromebooks cuz some smart nerdy kids found out how to unblock it

I haven’t played this game since 2019 and I’ve been looking for this game again for a long time now. In the begging of the campaign you had to save a doctor. The games enemy was called unknown. I don’t remember much of the game but there were multiple maps that you could play in and I think it was somewhere around a 5v5 or something like that. (I don’t remember the gaming company but every time you would load in it would say new games every week.) you could have played the game on unblocked sites but I don’t remember the name so I can’t find it. I don’t have any picture of the game to so it’s really hard to find. This is my first post so I’m really sorry if this is bad.

please tell me why viva street is unblocked in university wifi but pirate sites and ethical porn sites are blocked. Anyone got any insight into this anything is appreciated

They will do everything to keep your account locked, and hope that you surrender and don't write to support anymore to unblock your account so they can keep em for themselves. Even if you send them all the required information, your account will not be unblocked.
Imagine the reason of account deactivation "as your account has been inactive for some time, we have temporarily deactivated your account for security reasons..." and they ask for transaction hashes that I did years ago, why should an account be deactivated when 2fa is active, if it will be hacked, let it be, I will lose my cryptos and thats it, better leaving the crypto to the hacker that to this scam site

Interested to know what my fellow Australian Surveyors think about this. I ask people at work and I get mixed responses. At the end of the day, it's not considered a trade, but there's plenty of Surveyors that work on the exact same sites as tradies do. Only difference is that we have to work in 38+ degree heat with a UV rating that'll give you skin cancer before you turn 30, we have to work in the rain etc. etc., Surveying companies can get away with a lot. In my opinion it's a load of crap that we aren't and we should do absolutely everything we can to make sure we are, but other people might have different opinions. Interested to know what you blokes think?

Years ago when I initially setup my UDM Pro they had a list of streaming services you could block. Some adult sites, hulu, netflix, etc. I need to unblock Hulu but can't find where to unblock it. I see a restriction group I created called "Streaming Services" under Security but nowhere can I find the actual group.

Hello everyone, I discovered Tor about 6 months ago and I love it, today I was interested in the network and how it works, and I found out so much information from Reddit, tor pages, and privacy pages! Now I know a LOT about how the Tor network operates, but sadly not in full detail. I was wondering if Reddit Tor had any comments or information about how the network operates, I tested the bridges in school because the network blocks sites and Tor did its job, unblocked it!
​
Google Drawings link here: https://docs.google.com/drawings/d/1k8O9CjL9apZpFI3ySZpCukExmxr_zsAVLX-QGvE0EjU/edit?usp=sharing

17-minute read.

summarized segments from PM Pashinyan's 4-hour-long press conference

PASHINYAN: Over the last several years we came to realize that certain issues were incompatible with the idea of having an independent and sovereign Armenia. Certain agendas were shown to have a predetermined outcome with the goal of preventing Armenia's development as a state. I have shared details on numerous occasions. It became necessary to review Armenia's development strategy and the need to develop the "Real Armenia".
Today Armenia has and must have an independent foreign policy. Armenia's internal policy is driven by the will of the people.
The purpose of the existence of the Republic of Armenia is not to serve "historical justice". Its purpose is to establish personal freedoms, happiness, and prosperity for its citizens and diasporans who wish to repatriate.
We must have social justice in Armenia based on the idea of assisting those in need so they can have the skills and jobs necessary to make a living independently.
We must deepen our relations with neighboring Georgia and Iran, control and reduce the hostility with Turkey and Azerbaijan, and integrate with regional communication routes. The Crossroads of Peace logistics project would promote Armenia's integration into economic routes and reduce the likelihood of conflicts in the future.
In the area of defense, we are diversifying our foreign relations, reforming the army, and we need to implement and comprehensive defense system.
To be able to diversify foreign relations [closer ties with the West & the delivery of Indian weapons through the territory of Iran or Georgia], Armenia's stance must be based on legitimacy [no territorial claims against Azerbaijan]. We will never be able to diversify our relations or use the diversified relations effectively without having a position based on legitimacy.
The army reforms must also be based on legitimacy, and its purpose must be the protection of Armenia's territorial integrity and sovereignty. There will be no army reforms [Western advisory & assistance] if our stance is not based on legitimacy.
The economic development, which is a prerequisite for the achievement of other goals, must be based including on the development of human capital in Armenia.
The implementation of all of the above requires peace. The peace agenda has been a priority for us, partly because the mechanism of guarantees [by Russia] didn't work. Only peace can guarantee Armenia's security. The peace agenda is a tool to ensure Armenia's security.
We must create the conditions for peace, and we have launched that process in Tavush. The border posts installed in Tavush are "security guarantees" and we must do everything possible to strengthen those guarantees and multiply them. //
Border Commissions of Armenia and Azerbaijan agreed on April 19 to reproduce the borders based on the 1991 Almaty Declaration. During the upcoming meeting in Kazakhstan, foreign ministers of Armenia and Azerbaijan will discuss the inclusion of this principle in the larger peace agreement, said Pashinyan.
The demarcation is conducted based on the latest USSR maps that hold de jure power. That's the principle. They avoid pointing to a map from a specific year because each section of the border could have de jure maps prepared in different years. Pashinyan offered journalists to meet off the record to share more details about the de jure maps. He said it can't be publicized in order not to jeopardize the ongoing delimitation process.
Why are the parties delimiting the borders from the ground up instead of simply using the delimitation work carried out in 1988, during the final years of USSR? Pashinyan says the 1988 efforts were not legally finalized and "didn't have time" to undergo the necessary procedures to go into effect, hence the need for a new process.
PASHINYAN: Today we are using maps that reflect the borders between Soviet Armenia and Soviet Azerbaijan at the time of the collapse of the Soviet Union. With the Tavush process, we have chosen a path to exclude the possibility of a war. This isn't just about Kirants and Tavush, this is about the Republic of Armenia.
The border delimitation aims to make the possible war illogical, unlikely, and not worthwhile. Some 90% of the work is complete. The further it goes, the more illogical a war becomes. We are delivering on our 2021 promise of taking steps to establish peace.
This is the first time in history that we create security guarantees ourselves, no matter how challenging it is. This is part of being a sovereign state, when you face your own issues and make sovereign decisions to resolve your own issues. This is a major political and socio-psychological shift for Armenia. //
Pashinyan said it's necessary to ensure that Armenia is not viewed as an "occupier" of Azerbaijani villages, and explained why it was important to launch the delimitation from Tavush:
PASHINYAN: We are talking about actual [4 Soviet-era Azeri] communities where people lived. The escalations in 2021-2022 caught the interest of the international community, and sadly, on international platforms, the aggression against Armenia was "justified" including with the use of those Azerbaijani villages. It was both surprising and unfortunate that in a situation [20121-2022] when we thought we were the "plaintiff", we became the "defendant". We were asked whether we recognize each other's territorial integrity or not. "Then what is the problem that's preventing you from resolving the issue of these villages?" So we are launching the delimitation from Tavush to avoid a new war.
Critics and I look at this through different lenses. They talk about "surrendering trenches great for defense", and I'm talking about preventing a war so you won't even need to use those trenches. Today there is a process, including by the clergy, to stop the process of developing guarantees for peace, to stop the process of strengthening Armenia's sovereignty. There will be a war if we don't delimit these 4 villages. I'm confident that this was/is the goal of certain forces that wish to create conditions to allow them to hijack power so they can make some other decisions for Armenia [Tatarstan].
Are you paying attention to what the opposition members are saying? One of their leaders went on air and questioned the expediency of holding free and legitimate elections because they - and certain external forces [in Russia] - understand that they can't win power through legitimate elections so they need to destabilize the situation by inciting a new war so they can hijack power without elections. This is their plan:
(1) Derail the border delimitation and incite a war that will lead to the occupation of Armenian territories.
(2) Use that to overthrow the government.
(3) Install an illegitimate marionette government.
(4) De facto dissolution of Armenia's sovereignty and statehood, ahead of its de jure dissolution.
Who are the supporters of this process [rally against delimitation]? Narco-barons hiding in Russia [Panama Papers' Mihran Poghosyan]; criminal elements recruited by foreign intel agencies or at a minimum people acting under their influence; the former NSS chief Arthur Vanetsyan who was recorded on tape, which wasn't published in full, with the rest of the tape being kept to ensure he served their interests. What could be in the unpublished portion of the conversation? Could we find out one day that Vanetsyan was illegally negotiating with Kocharyan's son-in-law Mikael Minasyan to register part of the Zangezur copper combine's shares under his brother's name [Context: Pashinyan has accused the ex-regime of illegally appropriating the shares of Armenia's largest miner. There was an investigation by an independent media outlet about Vanetsyan's involvement in Zangezur. This was before the recent partial nationalization.]
These are the people who claim they are worried about the homeland today. Why don't they return those illegally obtained shares if they are worried about Armenia? It is inevitable. I want to inform you that these shares will belong to the Republic of Armenia. These illegal assets will be seized and returned under the ownership of the Republic of Armenia. //
Pashinyan vented about the quality of journalism in Armenia, accusing outlets of spreading unverified information as facts and not attempting to ask him directly for clarification when they were given the opportunity during one-on-one meetings.
PASHINYAN: You read these articles about my family members visiting somewhere and returning home with a "submarine", but when the opportunity is presented, these outlets never ask me to clarify whether it was true. Why don't you grill me right now for using a submarine to travel from Gyumri to Yerevan? It's as if these articles are being written for the sake of saying something rather than presenting facts. //
Back to borders.
PASHINYAN: Today the Border Commissions are tasked with reproducing the border on the ground. They are not engaged in politics, geopolitics, or proving the other side wrong. They are reproducing the de jure borders. In the Kirants section, 8 border markings have been clarified and installed. The other 3 are more sensitive [might pass through a house] and more detailed work will be done because, in those 3 points, every centimeter will matter. It has to have a centimeter precision. It's a laborious task but the problems of Kirants residents are our problems, my personal problems. For them, we have to come up with realistic and satisfactory solutions, even if not "ideal" solutions. We are reviewing the property ownership records as well. //
Pashinyan said he had to organize this press conference on May 7 instead of May 8 - the day when he became the PM - because tomorrow he has to visit Russia for the EAEU economic meeting during which he will also meet Putin. He said a number of issues have accumulated on the AM-RU agenda that need to be discussed.
The permanent housing assistance package for Nagorno-Karabakh refugees is being drafted and will be ready soon. Pashinyan said the refugees will receive help to build or buy housing, or a mortgage subsidy if they have already purchased a house. For refugees who are unable or do not wish to take part in the aforementioned programs, they will receive assistance in the form of social housing, meaning they will live for free but won't own it.
The amount of housing subsidy will be in the ֏3M-֏5M range, per family member. So a family of 6 would receive $41,000-$77,000 depending on the geographic location of their choice.
While speaking about the history of the Nagorno-Karabakh negotiation process, Pashinyan repeated that after 2016, the resolution package on the table required: the abolition of the governing system in Nagorno-Karabakh, the return of Azeris to Nagorno-Karabakh, the joint control of Nagorno-Karabakh by Armenians and Azeris, no independence, and the lingering possibility of war.
PASHINYAN: We had to surrender all of that, and even then there was no guarantee there wouldn't be a war because there would be no final resolution. This outcome was predetermined. Nevertheless, the Armenian people are overcoming the mentality of being a [Russian] fortpost today. This creates the groundwork for a lasting statehood for Armenia. Today we see the horizon after overcoming all these tragedies. Since taking office in 2018 I had the feeling that Armenia was in a deadlock. Today, for the first time, I feel that we have overcome that, thanks to the delimitation in Tavush. We are the ones creating the "guarantees" for us. //
When asked why he won't take part in Russia's May 9 celebrations, Pashinyan said he visited last year and that Armenian leaders don't have a record of attending every year.
Regarding the recent ban on Russian propagandist Solovyov from Armenian airwaves and possibly a wider ban on Russian channels, Pashinyan said foreign programs must respect Armenian laws:
PASHINYAN: Can you imagine the broadcasting of a channel in Russia that uses a similar language towards Russian law, the state, and its government? Do you think the channel would exist even if they used 5% of the same language? The AM-RU media agreement requires respect for Armenia and its interests. Since we have friendly relations with Russia, we can ask nicely once and twice, then demand once and twice, and if it's still ignored, they will all be shut down in Armenia. We are serious about defending Armenia as a sovereign state. I can GUARANTEE you, guar-an-tee, that these foreign channels won't be aired in Armenia if they continue to ignore these demands. It appears we have asked twice, demanded once, so there is one more "demand" left. //
QUESTION: Russia and Azerbaijan demand a Russian-controlled corridor from Armenia, citing the 9th paragraph of the Nov 9 statement.
PASHINYAN: (1) The other paragraphs of Nov. 9 were ignored. (2) The 9th paragraph is not about connecting Azerbaijan to Nakhijevan. That's the impression they are trying to create, but the 9th paragraph is in reality about the unblocking of ALL communication routes in the region. Azerbaijan has yet to unblock any of the routes for Armenia. Name one route that Azerbaijan has unblocked. We, on the other hand, proposed the installation of border checkpoints to establish connections, including between Azerbaijan and Nakhijevan. Azerbaijan is refusing to take advantage of this opportunity. Azerbaijan says if we don't give them a corridor they will build a route through Iran. Our response is that we are ready to provide a road similar to the one provided by Iran. There is not even a "hint" in the 9th paragraph that limits Armenia's sovereignty.
(3) There is an attempt to create the impression that under the 9th paragraph, a 3rd party [Russia] must guarantee the security through the territory of Armenia. Quite the contrary; it directly states that Armenia shall guarantee the security of connections.
(4) The 9th paragraph makes no mention of any part of Armenia becoming outside of the reach of the Armenian government and being "controlled" by Russia. It's written that Russia oversees the transport connection. What does that mean, you may ask? Pay attention to the Russian government decree adopted after the Nov. 9 statement, because it clarifies what the 9th paragraph says. The Russian decree instructs Russian agencies to "oversee the implementation of transportation guarantees provided by Armenia". In other words, the subject that provides the guarantees is Armenia, not Russia. This doesn't even mean that Russia must be present on the ground to oversee this, because it's possible to oversee the process by receiving regular reports from Armenia that Armenia is delivering the guarantees [Relevant: In 2022-2023 Armenia's NatSec Armen Grigoryan suggested that Russia could use "cameras" to oversee the process remotely. It appears Pashinyan today supports even less direct involvement by Russia, in the form of "regular reports", whatever that means.]
PASHINYAN (continues): There can be no comparison between this and the Lachin corridor. They are completely different. The Lachin corridor, under Nov. 9, was a territory with a specific width that had to remain under the direct control of Russian peacekeepers. Those who accuse us of violating paragraph 9 are making baseless claims. They must admit that this is an attempt by them to coerce an unacceptable concession from Armenia that is not described in paragraph 9. That is the truth.
There is a Lachin corridor in the Nov 9 statement. Is there a Lachin corridor on the ground today? It doesn't exist. Why?
There is a "line of contact" between Nagorno-Karabakh and Azerbaijan in the Nov 9 state. Is there a LoC on the ground today? Where is it?
The Nov 9 says there is Nagorno-Karabakh. Where is Nagorno-Karabakh today?
The Nov 9 says there are peacekeepers that will ensure the security of the civilian population of Nagorno-Karabakh. Did they? They did not. Where is the ethnic Armenian population of Nagorno-Karabakh today? //
Regarding the delimitation of 3 problematic areas in Kirants where the border could pass through a couple of houses.
PASHINYAN: Kirants is my homeland. I grew up in these areas and my children spent their vacations there. We regularly visit Kirants and other villages with family without disclosing it. Do you know why I do not oppose delimiting the border even if it causes controversy and property issues for some residents? Because we were finally able to reach an agreement around the principle for the delimitation of the entire AM-AZ border, welcomed by the international community. We cannot throw away the hard work and the principles of delimitation.
There can be no external "security guarantees" for Armenia. Armenia itself must forge those "guarantees" with its own efforts. That is what we are doing today. These are the "security guarantees" that you asked for Kirants and Tavush. This is part of the peace agenda. //
When asked about police brutality, Pashinyan acknowledged some problems but said a legal force should be used when appropriate, citing the recent clearing of university campuses in the US. Pashinyan said the government has launched a process to clarify the rights and responsibilities of officers so they will avoid investigations and prosecutors while the public will be treated fairly.
Pashinyan accused "failed religious leaders" of attempting to pursue a political agenda.
PASHINYAN: They failed to connect people and God. There are sadly many ranking churchmen, not all, who failed. You can talk to them dozens of times and they will never make any mention of the Bible or verses from the Bible. They are focused on business dealings, cement and concrete transportation, customs clearance, moving money from one account to another, public transport ownership, comparing the latest model of Mercedes with the old model, etc. Who are these people?
I'm not really surprised that they are involved in politics because they have no place in the religious world; it's just not for them. I doubt they have read the Bible in full. Based on the language used by them, you can tell they haven't opened the New Testament for quite some time, and they don't possess the nuances of the gospel. I say this not as a Prime Minister but as a man who believes in God. I speak as a follower of the Armenian Apostolic Church. Our church leaders have failed in their mission. I'm probably the last person in Armenia who says this; everyone knows that's the case.
They are bored of religion, they want to be in politics. Under the old regime, the church members had their "quotas" [monopolistic privileges] to conduct business. Import and export of cars, Bentleys, Lexus, Mercedes... yev ayln. Today everyone is free to do business, which means economic competition for these church leaders. This sums up the whole story.
They say the "temple" [opposition] will defeat the "street" [Pashinyan's 2018 revolution]. How will the temple defeat the street? Who is on the streets? It's the citizens of Armenia. How do they plan to defeat the street? The people's will is unstoppable, and people want peace. Those who preach war are destined to fail. // [Should Pashinyan resign and lead the church? Leave your insightful opinion in the comment section below.]
When asked why he visited daddy Erdogan's inauguration ceremony but not papa Putin's, Pashinyan revealed that he didn't receive an invitation from Putin, but even if there was one, he said would likely miss it because of today's press conference.
When asked whether the church leader Garegin Beta should step down, Pashinyan said the Government should not interfere in those matters.
PASHINYAN: Nevertheless, we must acknowledge that Catholicos Garegin B is leading a political movement today. That is very obvious. Today we know the purpose of this movement from the spokesman of the church who said the goal of this movement is to bring back the former regime. This strategy was mentioned by the leader of Armenia Alliance [Robert Kocharyan] on how to use the church to replace the government. A churchman said he has the blessing of the Catholicos to proceed with the process. That means Catholicos is the real leader, with the primary beneficiary being Robert Kocharyan. This isn't even an assumption, this is based on their public statements.
We are aware that some members of the clergy oppose this process. You remember how there was a movement "New Armenia, new Catholicos" after the 2018 revolution. They attempted to accuse us of being behind it, but in reality, not only we did not sponsor it but we were against that process because we didn't believe the Government should meddle in those affairs. //
HOST: This just in. The administrative head of village Kirants was allowed to visit the border marking sites. During a follow-up interview with the press, he said their expectations have been met and exceeded, and that it's more positive than what they expected.
PASHINYAN: During my recent trip to Kirants, the scenario I presented to the residents was the worst-case scenario. I also informed the residents of Kirants about the positive aspects of the delimitation and the possible economic benefits. I won't rush to make more statements and politicize the work of the Border Commission. The head of the administrative district of Kirants is actually a member of a [recently formed] working group adjacent to the Border Commission [Context: Village mayors were invited to oversee the Commission's work to ensure transparency for residents].
source,

former ambassador-at-large Edmon Marutyan released a video praising the Armenian church for its "liberal values", criticizing the Pashinyan administration for a "Bolshevik" campaign against the church

Marukyan is upset that the ruling faction accuses the church leaders of being "Russian agents" and for dismissing them without engaging with them.
Marukyan says it's normal for the church to be in politics and for deeply religious figures to be members of the government. He brings the example of Donald Trump, who is selling Bibles for a buck; Erdogan, whose party is deeply religious; Israel, whose coalition has right-wing religious figures; the United Kingdom, which has Bishops, etc.
In related news. Former Ombudsman Arman Tatoyan has joined the anti-delimitation march organized by the ARF/church.
source, source, source, source, source, [կանսեռվա]

mayor of Tavush village Kirants about the ongoing delimitation process

REPORTER: Eight border markers have been installed. Where are they, what's the latest news?
MAYOR (Kamo Shahinyan): I've seen the markers. There is a height called Khachi located right on the cross. They moved the border about 25 meters down from there, for which we are grateful to whoever was able to accomplish this. Some of the territory went under our control, and some under Azerbaijani control.
The "nose" part is what's left, the area immediately neighboring the village, the most difficult part. The 9.5 hectares that we were supposed to lose were moved down the river; not a centimeter of land belonging to us passes through there. On the back side, there are 3 personal properties and if you draw the line straight they will be inside Azerbaijan but they said they plan to curve the line. With this technique, we can maintain control of our lands.
REPORTER: Where is the most problematic area?
MAYOR: The bridge and the [area immediately next to the village where the border protrudes into the village]. Most of the work has been done near other markers. Moreover, some of the areas that were part of Azerbaijan under the 1985 map went to our side.
Near the Gholi Chal area, we were expecting them to draw the line to pass through our side of the river, but it passes on the Azeri side.
Most of the concern is with the "nose" and the personal properties of villagers in this area. As of right now, there is no Armenian-owned registered property that has fallen under the Azeri side as long as they curve that aforementioned area instead of drawing a straight line.
Do you see this large 9-hectare orchard? Not one centimeter of it goes under Azeri control.
REPORTER: Is that Ms. Karine's property?
MAYOR: Yes, people. Ms. Karine's lands remain under her control. I'm satisfied with how it's been handled so far.
REPORTER: [The groups were home today]. Is it possible they have frozen the activities on the nose section to distract you and buy some time? Because you are assuming a responsibility, you are presenting this in a positive light...
MAYOR: I'm telling you what has been done so far. I'm not the one to provide guarantees. They are going to deploy people [border guards] near the border markers to protect the area. For now, I think they will deploy NSS agents.
REPORTER (Azatutyun): So we haven't made concessions at this time?
MAYOR: We have not made concessions. There are only 3 land plots with uncertainty and it depends on how curved the line will be. That is the latest. It's going normal so far. //
In other news. Opposition outlets reported that Azerbaijani special forces were seen in village Kirants. It turned out they were Armenian agents. The ruling party accused the opposition of recklessly amplifying the anxieties of the residents.
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mayor of village Voskepar about the ongoing delimitation

REPORTER: What was lost during the delimitation near Voskepar? Did any territories of Voskepar go under Azerbaijani control?
MAYOR: No part of Voskepar has gone under Azeri control.
REPORTER: How did the border change after the installation of border posts?
MAYOR: Do you really think people knew where the border was BEFORE this process? The process is so far in line with our expectations and understanding. There are areas where we keep more than we thought we would. Azeris moved further back in some locations so instead of a 120-meter distance it turned out to be 170.
REPORTER: What about the army positions?
MAYOR: We have not left any of the positions.
REPORTER: In other words, there has been no damage as of now and you are not displeased with the demarcation works?
MAYOR: I'm not displeased with the work so far.
REPORTER: In that case, why was there a noise generated by the opposition and the church, why did people take to the streets?
MAYOR: Ask them, but I support the fight against unilateral concessions to protect our lands.
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Donald Trump defends Azerbaijan's good boy U.S. Congressman Henry Cuellar, accused of taking $600,000 in bribes to promote pro-Azerbaijan and anti-Armenian legislation

Trump claims without evidence that Cuellar is under attack for wanting to defend the southern U.S. border.
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Armenia will receive $100 million from the Eurasian Fund for Stabilization and Development to fund the Government's economic reform plan

efficiency of the labor market and sustainable development

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Yerevan State University has a cleanroom certified under ISO 7: VIDEO

It's being used for nanotech and semiconductor research, practice for students, and projects funded by grants.
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Armenia will host the World Weightlifting Championship in 2027: VIDEO

It will be the first major Olympic sports to be held in Armenia.
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foreign trade stats: Q1 2024

Exports 2.7x ($4.4B)
Imports +76% ($4.7B)
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Ad Block Plus has started blocking ads even when I've set a site as "unblock"... is anyone else seeing this with the latest update (Chrome)? This can be devastating for some publishers, and in some cases I truly want to support these sites, so it's quite a disappointing bug to have been introduced.