Easy pecan rolls frozen rhodes rolls

I am looking to get a friend an easy effective sharpening kit. He likes how I get my knifes sharpe but I know he doesn't have the patience to learn whetstones. He mostly will use it on kitchen knives and Worksharp has a roller sharpening set.
https://www.worksharptools.com/products/rolling-knife-sharpener
Thoughts or opinions? I have never used a roller system appears to be fool proof and should at minimum maintain a blade.

(Sorry for all the grammar mistake.) I am useless to everyone around me. I'm 27. I don't have a job. And I don't know how to drive. Last time I drove, I had a panic attack and almost crashed, this was in February. It's like this everytime. When I apply at places, I never get a call back and got rejected at a few. I live with my mom and siblings. And I hate that I can't be as helpful as I want to be. I hate my life and everything about me. I really try my best, but it is never enough. I'm a bad sister and daughter. I hate that I was the child my got stuck with. I hate that I was the one that was born. Nothing brings me happiness anymore. I don't feel motivated to do anything. I hate when my mom says that praying will help everything be better, and it hasn't. My depression, anxiety, and OCD have gotten worse. Medication don't help me. I'm jealous of everyone because of how easy they make life seem. I hate seeing people I went to high school with. I know my mom doesn't care, she rolls her eye when I try to speak to her. And, all I ever wanted was her love. I'm a burden to everyone. It's just easier with me gone. I won't have to worry anymore. I won't feel like this anymore. Thank you for listening.

OOC: co-written with NotTooSunny
It was an ordinary day at the New York City Library. People wandered in and out of the building, unaware of the monster that lurked among them.
The only people who seemed to know the danger these mortals were in were Harper and Amon, who entered the building with glowing bronze swords at their hips. The bulky weapons seemed to have escaped the notice of the other library patrons, which was a good thing. The job description had made it clear that they were meant to remain inconspicuous in completing their task.
Harper had traded her usual bright orange camp shirt for a more discrete cropped black t-shirt and pleated pants. She had been insistent on coming up with a persona for them on the train ride from Montauk Station into New York City. They were meant to act as high school students researching for a World History paper on Ancient Greece. Now that they were inside the library, she had stopped her incessant rambling to peruse a riddle book, in what she had insisted was preparation for their job.
As they wandered through the bookshelves, she remained absorbed in the dog-eared children’s book, thumbing through the pages to find a riddle that would be fitting of a sphinx.
“Here’s one, Amon,” she said, narrowly avoiding a collision with another library patron as she read, “What is something that runs but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?”
The dark-haired son of Apollo glanced over from a shelf of dusty atlases, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “That is an easy one,” he replied simply. "River. Try me with something more challenging next time around." He adjusted the collar of his striped button down, which he had layered with a navy blue sweater in preparation for the chill of the air-conditioned interior.
“The real riddle is where we can find this sphinx,” Amon glanced around the spacious reading area, eyeing the dark wooden staircase with its ornate railings. “The boyfriend and girlfriend who tried this last time, they found her by a bookcase.”
“A bookcase,” Harper repeated derisively, closing her book to theatrically scan their surroundings. “That narrows it down.”
Ignoring Harper’s mockery, the son of Apollo paused suddenly, his dark eyes glazing over with concentration. His hearing dulled, the surrounding footsteps and rustling pages fading into the background as if muffled by a thick curtain. Amon searched for the energy signature of the monster he knew lurked among the mortals. It was a subtle shift, like trying to discern a whisper in a crowded room, but he felt a faint, abnormal energy hanging somewhere up above.
“I say we try the second floor,” he said as he snapped out of the tracking trance, offering no other explanation to Harper.
“We could do that, sure,” Harper said, words laced with blatant doubt at his sudden certainty. “I say we try asking the Visitor’s Center. I know she's supposed to be disguised by the Mist, but the librarians have to have noticed something.”
“You can go ahead and do that.” The small smirk from earlier was now spreading across his face. “But you can’t be upset if I find the sphinx and solve her riddle before you even get there.”
Harper rolled her eyes, but she made no attempt to stop Amon from walking towards the staircase. After a moment she set off after him, footsteps even against the wooden steps.
Up on the second floor, Amon moved quietly, his dark eyes scanning the hallway for anything out of the ordinary.
I know you’re up here.
He stopped at every heavy-looking mahogany door, peering through each muted glass insert. He felt the air grow thicker with ominous energy at every step, so he knew the monster must be near.
One of the doors was slightly ajar, a suspiciously open invitation. Or a trap. The dark-haired boy caught sight of a cat-shaped figure on the other side before ducking down and motioning sharply for Harper’s attention. He unsheathed his kopis from his belt, bracing himself for confrontation.
Harper crouched against the wall, hand on the hilt of her sword as she tried to peek through the frosted glass pane. She held her breath, ready to move at Amon’s signal. He held out three fingers and then put them down one by one. When he hit zero, they stood in unison, flinging the door open together.
When Amon and Harper stepped inside, the body of the sphinx lay motionless on the floor.
The rest of the room was in disarray, littered with disheveled chairs and broken bits of chalk. A window on the other side of the room had been forced open, the curtain fluttering in the wind.
“No way,” Harper said. The door clicked shut behind her as she pushed past Amon into the room and kneeled to study the monster’s limp figure.
The sphinx had the large body of a lion and the eerily human face of a middle-aged woman, hair tied back in a severe bun and foundation caked onto her high cheekbones. Fangs jutted out of her red-painted lips, and eagle wings sprouted out of the space between her shoulder blades, folded tight against her back.
“Monsters dissolve into dust when they die,” Amon remarked, keeping his distance as he watched the subtle rise and fall of the monster’s ribs. “She must have been knocked unconscious.”
“Right,” Harper agreed, “The real question is who. And why.”
She hovered a hand over the cat's shoulder, set on rousing her. Before she made contact, the sphinx's eyes snapped open, round irises surrounded by shocking yellow sclera.
"Slain!" she wailed. Harper staggered backwards. Amon’s arms instinctively reached out to catch her, but she didn’t stumble near enough to make contact. "I am slain!"
With feline grace, the sphinx rose to her feet. A white tape outline marked the placement of her previously prone body on the floor. The muscles in her legs rippled as she paced in front of Harper and Amon, massive velvet paws silent against the carpet.
"And you, my dear heroes," she roared, eyes narrowed in an accusatory glare, "were too late to save me!"
The sphinx sniffed, composing herself. She leapt onto a wooden table. The table legs creaked underneath her weight. "Fear not," she tutted, "Fear not. For you can still avenge me. If you are able to determine the murderer and their weapon, then I will obtain justice, and all will be right with the world.”
“Your riddle is a murder mystery,” Harper said, confusion written across her face. Amon raised an eyebrow. The sphinx chuffed, a low rumbling sound reminiscent of laughter.
“You sought that hackneyed question about man? The Sphinx that the storytellers remember is far less adaptive than I am. I am not interested in your ability to regurgitate the information you have read. Nor am I interested in taking advantage of the nonsensical rules of your English language.”
“I am here to satisfy my own curiosity: does modern mankind still possess the ability to engage in deductive reasoning, or do they only seek to make themselves appear intelligent? Do not speak,” the sphinx said, a pointed look at Harper, who had opened her mouth to interject, “You will answer my questions when you play my game.”
“The potential murder weapons are scattered throughout this room,” she continued, leaping off the table. “And the suspects have already provided their testimonies for your review. Rest assured, I have made certain that their statements contain no lies.”
A shimmering, translucent energy began to swirl around Harper and Amon’s feet, beginning to take shape as holograms with a flickering, ephemeral quality.
A projection of Cerberus materialized first, his three massive heads snarling and snapping in unison. A ribbon of text appeared by his paws to translate his growling: "I was guarding the entrance, my duty unbroken."
Next came the Minotaur, his towering form pacing within the labyrinth on Crete. He snorted and pawed at the ground, the holographic maze shifting behind him in the background. The translation text appeared: "Confined within these walls, no escape for me."
Lamia's projection flickered into view, her serpentine lower half coiled around her as she wept in her cave. She glanced mournfully at the holographic images of her lost children: "My grief consumes me, innocent of this crime."
A shimmering Hydra emerged next, its nine heads snapping at invisible foes. Each one moved independently, showcasing its ability to act on its own. The translation for the hissing head at the center read: "Engaged in battle, I could not have killed."
Typhon materialized with a thunderous roar, his colossal form fighting against restraints under Mount Etna. His immense size and power were palpable, even in scaled down holographic form: "Bound by chains of the earth, I could not have roamed free."
Echidna’s hologram appeared last, her form a mix of human and serpent, lounging in a dimly lit cave. She looked directly at the viewers, her expression both defiant and amused. The translation text by her side read: “I dwell in my lair, uninvolved in such petty affairs.”
The sphinx swiped at the last projection as it faded, deeming her handiwork satisfactory. “There is not enough information to deduce the killer using evidence alone. Because I am fair, I will provide you with three hints before your final guess. Be forewarned: if you fail to provide a correct answer, you will both perish. Is this understood?”
Harper spoke. “If we answer correctly, you will leave this library for good.”
“If you answer correctly, I will permanently relocate. It is a preferable option in comparison to another death. Now, do you agree to the terms and conditions?” the sphinx said primly, regarding Harper and Amon with casual disdain. The pair nodded. “Very well.”
The sphinx dropped onto the floor and let her head loll back, pretending to be dead once more.
Hint #1

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

Soon after the Sphinx had laid back down, Harper and Amon began to scour the room. A small pile of prospective murder weapons formed on a nearby table.
“We can easily eliminate the siren song,” Amon rushed to speak over Harper, eyeing the small glass vial of swirling gray matter that they had found nestled behind a row of books on metalworking. “It is a luring mechanism, not a murder weapon.”
“We could rule out Cerberus’ fang too,” he pointed at the enormous yellowing tooth, about the size of the small baseball bat Amon used to have when he played in the little league. “If we take the hologram as ground truth, all of his teeth were intact there.”
Harper used her kopis to prod at the stained tunic that had been hidden in a desk drawer, being careful not to touch it with bare skin. “The Shirt of Nessus is a viable option. It would be easy for any of the suspects to lay it down and wait for the hydra venom to kick in.”
“I am not ready to rule out the bronze sword either,” Amon noted. “Monsters have access to heroes and the weapons they leave behind.”
“Most of these monsters don’t even have opposable thumbs,” Harper argued, running a hand over the sword they had found by a power outlet. ”They don’t have the dexterity to wield a sword.”
“I do not imagine that the technicality would be that granular.”
Harper laughed. “Oh, the number of teeth in the Cerberus hologram tell all, but we’re drawing the line at opposable thumbs.”
“I suppose that that logic would also rule out the harpy talon and the encyclopedia easily as well,” Amon admitted. “Which would be too easy.”
“I’m just that good at logical deduction.” Harper said proudly. “If my assumption is correct, then the poisoned shirt is the only one that makes sense.”
Amon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest as his dark eyes bored into Harper. “It would not necessarily matter what our first guess would be anyway.”
“Can you provide an argument for any other weapon? Or are you intent on purposely making an illogical guess?” she countered cooly.
“Fine,” Amon acquiesced. “Since you are so adamant about the shirt, we can guess the shirt, and be incorrect. It does not matter. What about the suspects themselves?” He clasped his hands behind his back, his steps measured as he started to pace across the plush red carpet of the room.
Harper smiled, smugly accepting her victory. She strode towards a chalkboard at the side of the study room, inscribing the list of weapons and suspects with a fresh piece of white chalk.
“All of them have alibis,“ she began. “I think that-”
“Some make more sense than others,” Amon spoke over Harper, irritated by her minor triumph. “Cerberus, for example, is under the service of Hades. He says he did not leave his post, and he could not have done so without permission or dire consequences on the process of the dead.”
Harper silently seethed as Amon spoke, meeting his rationale with reluctant acceptance before starting again in a louder, exaggerated tone. “I think that the ones with the shakiest alibis are Lamia, the Minotaur, Typhon, and Echidna. No witnesses can confirm their locations. In fact, Lamia provides no location at all.” Harper circled those names. She looked at Amon with a forced smile, allowing him a moment to provide more commentary.
“Lamia? Well,” there was a hint of mockery in the sneer that tugged on the corner of Amon’s lips. “I would imagine her emotions rendered her… Too fragile and unstable to carry out such an act.”
“You’re kidding,” Harper scoffed, searching Amon's face for the slightest hint that he was joking. “Her grief is what moved her to kill children in the first place. I doubt it would suddenly be incapacitating. She’s just appealing to your sense of superiority, and I can’t believe that you’re falling for it.”
"It is not about superiority. It is about logic," Amon retorted, bristling in defense. “You cannot deny that emotions cloud judgment. Maybe the sphinx wants us to leverage our knowledge about her past crimes to reason that she was not thinking clearly in this case either.” Amon had no other evidence that pointed towards Lamia as the top suspect, but he had dug deep enough where he was now ready to stand firm in his reasoning.
“Murder,” Harper countered, eyes narrowed in a venomous stare, “-does not require you to think clearly. Haven’t you heard of a crime of passion? If anyone’s judgment is clouded right now, Amon, it’s yours.”
The son of Apollo squared his shoulders, his expression hardening. "I understand the concept of crimes of passion, thank you.” His dark-eyed stare returned Harper's gaze, unflinching at the intensity. “But our investigation must be rooted in facts, not assumptions based on emotions. And the facts are,” he resumed his pacing once more, “that Lamia cannot be the culprit, as she is the only suspect that openly admits to being innocent of this crime.”
Amon had considered this from the very start, but provoking Harper like this had proved to be far more amusing.
Harper crossed Lamia’s name off of the board. She swallowed down her anger, fighting the urge to continue pressing the issue in favor of returning to their list of suspects. She pointed her piece of chalk at the next names on the list. “The Minotaur and Typhon are trapped, or so they say. How could they have done anything?”
“Their alibis revolve around their inability to escape,” Amon pointed out. “Not that they were unable to commit murder. The Labyrinth, in fact,” he raised a dramatic finger, “has several moving passages that could have permitted the Minotaur to move and commit murder without an official escape.”
Harper considered his words for a long moment, trying to find the flaw in his reasoning. Seeing none, she placed a dot next to the Minotaurs's name.
“Typhon escaped his prison in the Second Titanomachy. He could do it again,” Harper said thoughtfully. “Though I don’t understand why he would do something like this. He’s the Sphinx's father. The same goes for Echidna.”
Amon, who had been nodding at Harper’s assessment of Typhon’s abilities, pursed his lips at her observation of parentage. “I do not see how this could possibly be relevant to the logical puzzle at hand.”
Harper spoke slowly, as if the answer was obvious. “What motive would they have to kill their own daughter?”
“Harper,” Amon began curtly, folding his arms across his chest. “Half of the Greek myths revolve around immortals killing their own children.”
“Then we should pick one of them,” Harper declared, pivoting her argument instead of admitting her logical blunder. “They would have more of a motive than the rest of the suspects, if anything.”
“The Minotaur can escape much more easily than Typhon can. Motive aside, it is the most logical guess,” Amon concluded, adjusting his collar haughtily. “I will remind you that we picked your choice of weapon. It is only fair that I select the monster.”
“Fine.” Harper agreed, her gaze stormy as she turned back towards the sphinx. “We accuse the Minotaur of killing the sphinx with the Shirt of Nessus.”
The sphinx opened one eye. “None of these are correct!”
Hint #2

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

“Two more hints left.” Harper announced, crossing off the Minotaur’s name and the poisoned shirt on the chalkboard with a flourish. It was not ideal that her initial logical deductions had been incorrect, but at least Amon had also been wrong. She couldn't resist a snide comment. “I knew it wasn’t the Minotaur.”
“So you still think it’s Typhon.” Choosing to ignore Harper’s taunting, Amon rested his hand on a nearby desk, studying the lists on the chalkboard before him. He had taken the Minotaur error as a personal failure, and was determined to get the suspect right this time.
“I do.”
“Why not Echidna?”
“She’s too emotional to kill someone, obviously.” Harper said sarcastically. “Her frail female arms are probably too weak to even hold a weapon.”
The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. “Objectively,” he began, ignoring her quip once more, “Typhon could not have lied about his inability to roam free. A natural disaster freed him from Mount Etna during the Second Titanomachy, but he could not recreate those conditions on his own.” Though his tone remained aloof, it was clear that Amon was relishing in the opportunity to flaunt his mythology knowledge.
“Maybe,” Harper argued, stubborn. “But Echidna’s statement was less ambiguous than his. Typhon just explains his predicament; he doesn't provide a real claim. Echidna explicitly says she was not involved.” She thought for a few more moments, rolling the piece of chalk in her hands. “Echidna could have released him? They would be accomplices.”
Amon shook his head. “There was a single murderer. Not two. The sphinx would not lie about the premise of the game.”
Harper stared at him coldly, but could offer no rebuttal. She turned her attention to the board. “Typhon is a giant. He’s capable of using the sword.”
“But the specificity of Echidna’s denial is still incredibly suspicious. ‘Petty affairs’ is a strange way to phrase a murder. But,” Amon added reluctantly, “I understand the logic behind Typhon. I suppose it is your turn to choose the monster, and we will still have another guess to work with.”
“As for the weapon,” he continued, “I still think the sword is the most viable option, given that the siren song and the fang can be ruled out and the shirt with the venom was, well,” Amon pursed his lips, fighting the urge to smile, “incorrect.”
Before Harper could interject, Amon turned towards the sphinx at the front of the room. “We accuse Typhon of killing the sphinx with a Celestial Bronze Sword.”
“One of these is correct!”
Hint #3

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

“Aha!” Amon raised a triumphant finger before pointing it at Harper. “I told you,” he gloated, “Typhon had no escape route.”
“You were right,” Harper admitted, staring down at the carpet so that she would not have to look at his smug expression.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, and turned back towards the lioness with crossed arms. “We accuse Echidna of killing the sphinx with a Celestial Bronze Sword”
“One of these is correct,” the sphinx announced. Her mouth twisted in amusement, fangs bared in a menacing smile.
READ PART 2 HERE

Okay I know how this sounds, but hear me out first. Buckle in it’s gonna be a long one. My boyfriend, R (23M) and I, CK (24F) been together a little over a year and a half although it certainly hasn’t always been easy, we get along pretty well. My only complaint is that he is nice, too nice. He always bends over backwards for people who don’t deserve it AKA, his family.
My boyfriend is in college, drives a beater car, and works part time and a convenience shop, so to say he is broke is kind of an understatement. That doesn’t matter to me though, because I love him madly. This relationship is the most constructive and healthy connection I have ever been in. Anyway, we both live at home because rent prices, among other things are way too expensive. My boyfriend loves his family. It’s one of the qualities that really attracted me to him, because I do not have a good relationship with my own family. Although it was endearing at the start, I now think they are taking advantage of him.
He is a personal chauffeur to his unappreciative little sister. He is constantly cutting our time short to go take her to hair appointments that he pays for, work, school, shopping, and anywhere else she wants to go without any notice for FREE. I don’t think I have ever heard her say thank you to him. Half of the time we are together when she calls him so he has to use my car to take her places. More of the same with his parents, when they call he magically transforms into an InstaCart shopper or a DoorDasher before my eyes (cue eye roll.) They also think we spend too much time together, so they have recently enacted a curfew which I think is outrageous considering he is a 23 year old MAN and he does so much for them. All they do is command him to do things, and he does it no questions asked.
His birthday was last week right before Mother’s Day. Unsurprisingly, no one in his household bought him a present for his birthday. I, of course, got him a gift and a mini cake for his birthday to make him feel special and appreciated since he does a lot for me and my son. He took it home and placed in the fridge and jokingly said “I hope no one eats it.” When he said that it absolutely ticked me off, and of course a day later before he could even have a piece, they demolished it. I know it may seems minor but, his family has a habit of taking things from him without permission. For context, one Christmas I bought him a set of cologne and planned the two of us a trip for new years. We had an amazing time together and it really solidified that this is what I wanted in a relationship. Long story short, we came back from our trip, he went into his room to see that the very expensive cologne I bought him was now missing. My heart sank when he told me this. I told him straight up he needs to stand up for himself and if this continues he is allowing them to continue this behavior. But as always he turned it into a joke.
Anyway, we had plans today. We were both off work, which is rare. We haven’t really had much time to celebrate his birthday from last week because like I said previously he works at a convenience store and has crazy hours, while I work a 9-5 as well as caring for my son who is in Pre-K. We have both been raving about a posh little restaurant downtown that we have wanted to go to for quite some time now. I wanted to make a reservation for lunch because I knew for sure his sister and my son would be in school, so we were completely free for a little while. I mean it sounds like it would all work out right? WRONG. It never does.
His sister typically gets out of school at 3:30 PM then she goes home to get dressed for work and needs to be dropped off there around 4:00-5:00 PM. Keeping this in mind I set our reservation for 12:30 PM. Anyway we get there a bit late, but we were still able to be seated and our lunch went well. We were near a mall with time to spare, so we decided we would stop by to window shop. We walked around for a bit and the time flies by. Suddenly it was 2:30 PM his sister goes absolutely crazy and blows his phone completely up. I asked him was everything okay and did we need to leave since we drove my car there together. He insisted everything was fine and we continued our shopping. I curiously asked him what time he planned to leave and he said we would go at 3:00 which was fine with me.
We lost track of time and we ended up leaving later than intended at about 3:15 PM, but we were only about 20 minutes away and we wouldn’t have her waiting very long. As we’re driving she is still going crazy blowing his phone up constantly asking where he was as he was driving. I was getting annoyed because we were going to go and get her in my car, when she’s so unappreciative of her brother and his efforts to keep her happy and to help her. I held my tongue though because I could hear the agitation increase within his voice as they spoke and I felt as if I would only make things worse. My boyfriend is very sweet and it isn’t often that he gets angry, so she was really pushing his buttons.
She called him a whopping 10 times during a 20 minute drive, and at one point they had a screaming match on the phone and he told her, “You knew I was busy and not at home, why didn’t you ask one of our parents to get you if you wanted to be picked up without having to wait?” Their house is only 8 minutes away from the school so I was beyond ticked off and annoyed at this point. When we finally arrived at her school admittedly a little late, she is nowhere to be found. We waited for a while for her and he called to see where she was, apparently she caught a ride from a friend to be dropped off at her aunts house. The rage I felt in that moment was unparalleled. If they could take you to your aunts house why didn’t they take you home?!
Anyway within the commotion I asked him to swing by my son's school so we could pick him up. I then asked him which one would “come first” purely referring to the geographic location of each person considering I didn’t want him to waste any more of my own gas. I guess I used the wrong choice of words.
He replied to me with something that stung me down to the core. He said, “My sister and my family will always come first.” He saw the surprised and hurt look on my face and quickly added, “but this is your car we can go get him first.” I was taken aback by that statement. I understand that family is blood related, but these people do not respect your time, privacy, hell even your freedom. After he said that the rest of the car ride was a blur and I truly felt like I was overreacting at first. We planned to take my son to the park after we dropped his sister off but I ended up telling him I didn’t feel well and we had to cancel. I’m at a loss here guys. Do I have any right to feel hurt by what he said to me? I mean this is the man I planned on creating a family with, becoming old with. Now I’m not so sure. Help me out here and lmk if I am the A-Hole.

Weekly Blog 4
The Anchors: Tools For the Storm
Whats up guys! We’re back this week and diving into a concept that's become the fundamental base of my approach to life's challenges. This week I introduce to you the anchors. Whether you're navigating personal growth or undergoing transformative therapies, these principles can be a powerful guide. So let’s explore these anchors and mantras that can stabilize us in the turbulent skies of our experience.

1. Breathe: The Foundational Anchor

The breath is our greatest anchor. When we are consciously breathing, we are consciously living. This week, I want to introduce you to two techniques that I find incredibly grounding and have been vital along my healing journey. The first is the "Box Breath" method: breathe in for 4 seconds, hold for 4 seconds, exhale for 4 seconds, and hold again for 4 seconds. The second method, my personal favorite which I often use during deeper sessions, is the "4,7,8" technique—inhale through the nose for 4 seconds, hold for 7 seconds, and exhale slowly through the mouth for 8 seconds. This longer exhale helps slow the heart rate, calming the mind and pulling us out of the fight-or-flight response. Remember to recite mantra such as, "I am safe, I am present."

1. Trust: Believing in the Journey

Next, let’s talk about trust. There is an invitation to trust in the process of life, that everything is unfolding not just around you, but for you. It's a conscious choice to perceive obstacles as opportunities to strengthen and evolve our character. But most of all, trust in yourself. After all, you've navigated through life to this point, so you must be doing something right! An example of a mantra I would use would be: "I trust myself and the experience. I trust the journey." This mantra isn’t just a statement, it's a commitment to self belief through every twist, turn and obstacle of life.

1. Let Go: The Art of Surrender

I know you know the popular saying: What we resist persists. It’s a saying as old as time, but it holds a truth that can’t be overlooked. Sometimes, the best action is to surrender to what is beyond our control. Focus on what you can manage: your actions, your responses, your mindset. Imagine you’re driving: you control the steering wheel, the gas, and the brakes, but not the road itself. So why not turn up the music, roll down the windows, and enjoy the ride.. My mantra here would sound as simple as: "I am letting go.” Or, “I am giving myself permission to let go." This mantra is about embracing the flow of life, and the energy of letting go will then allow you to….

1. Be Open: Embrace Vulnerability

Finally, once we've learned to let go, there lies the opportunity to be open and vulnerable. This is no easy task, but it is where true strength lies. Many of us encounter fear in the idea vulnerability. However, it allows us to face the challenges of life head on, whether it's dealing with a hurt child within us, past trauma, or fears of abandonment. By facing these openly, we can begin the healing process similar to stitching a wound. This will require grace, patience, and determination. So I will leave you with this: Both faith and fear require you to believe in something you cannot see. The choice is yours.
I greatly appreciate you taking the time to read this today. These anchors are not just tools, but companions through our journey of self discovery and healing. I hope you are all having a beautiful week and I look forward to seeing you next week more wisdom and helpful tips I’ve learned along my journey as a student and guide. So until next time remember to breathe, trust, let go, and be open.
Disclaimer: This post is intended for informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice. The use of ketamine troches should be guided by a healthcare professional. The insights shared here should not replace your provider's instructions. Consult with your healthcare provider before making any changes to your treatment approach.

So, I've kind of posted about this in other threads, specifically on askreddit, but by some users request, I will do my best to fully relay this entire tale up to the current point, as well as provide as much context I am able (and will provide missing context if asked in comments).
TL;DR
A friend of mine of 4 years drank himself into liver failure and his wife cheated on him, so I offered him a free room to try and put his life back together, and I was repaid for the thought with a divorce of my own, but honestly, it's probably not that bad.
Part 1: CONTEXT
Me and my wife have been together since early 2014, and married in late 2017. We have been through much together, including two extended deployments, one of which was 10 and a half months long. We have traveled the world together, lived on both coasts of the US, and despite much of our struggles and how things eventually went down, I was always convinced we would work as a team to overcome any issues.
The friend in question was, largely, an online friend. We met playing an MMO during covid and we quickly formed a very tight knit, but small, community that were very close that included me, my wife, my friend, his wife, and 4 other friends. Covid was a wild time and I was surprised how easy it was to form friends in this group and we kept in touch, as a whole, even once quarantine had ended and most of us had moved on from that particular game. This was a group that, while it started online, we have met most of these people several times IRL and had vacations to spend time together and just hang out.
Part 2: His Problems
Fast forward to about January of 2024. My buddy, from here on out I will refer to as Z (and for a quick add, I will refer to my wife as D), contacts us to tell us his condition is dire and he has been diagnosed with stage 4 cirrhosis of the liver as a consequence of his extensive drinking. Shaken, we quickly charter a flight out to visit. Within a week, we're staying with him and his wife and his roommate and a couple members of his family who are taking care of him. This man is bloated, yellow, and probably about 350lbs now. We are worried, but stay supportive and positive that help can be found, especially since he seems keen on changing his lifestyle for the better. Some of his family start a gofundme that we donate to, and many of the people in our gaming circle who have grown close also donate several thousand dollars (One member of our raid team donated 10k. You never know who is stealth rich on the internet I guess). Me and several other friends discuss the possibilities of helping him get on disability and even getting ourselves tested as compatible living donors. Sad, but hopeful, we depart about a week later, and stay in constant touch.
About a month later, I'm getting a call from one of our mutuals letting me know that "Hey, so I may have goofed up." and tells me how Z's wife had visited him and had a 3 way with him and his wife. I am obviously irate at this and turn to back Z up with comments like "So much for in sickness and in health, huh?" I do what I can to stay supportive, and my wife, D, also makes it a point to stay in touch with him as he has found himself banished to the couch of his apartment. Not even allowed to sleep in his own bed and frequently uncomfortable even being in his bedroom to use the PC.
I'm not particularly rich, but I am not poor either. I served in the military and have a high VA rating which means a constant income and have a steady job and a couple side gigs that pay well enough. My love language, in many ways, is gift giving. I pride myself on being able to pick a good gift, even if it's a little early for an occasion such as a bday or christmas, and will often pull the trigger on something if it means a lot or I think it will help. In this case, my brother was selling an old steam deck because he wanted a new OLED model, so I figured "two birds, one stone", and buy the steam deck off him and send it to Z so we can still game together.
In the intervening months, Z and D start playing games that I have no interest in (Disney Dreamlight Valley), but I am happy to play other games and hang out and chat. Really, nothing seems amiss, but since his banishment, me and my wife are both pushing for him to come and take up the spare bedroom we have in our home. Soon enough, I buy him a plane ticket and he arrives with little more than the clothes on his back and we take him in, no cost other than the expectation that he might help around the house a bit (he was a chef, so having a cook and someone to help clean was ideal for me who often did not have the time or energy to handle these tasks as thoroughly as I would like).
Part 3: The Incident
Now, I am skipping ahead a little bit here, but there's not much to be said about the time between. My wife worked part time hours, and when she did go to work, she'd have him tag along just so he wouldn't "Sit and stew with bad thoughts" at the house alone. I will admit that throughout this entire ordeal, I have had several, several times where my brain tried to warn me, but I ignored ALL of those signs because I trusted him, but more importantly, I trusted her with my life.
One new, frequent argument I found myself having with her was she would fall asleep on the couch, and when I finally tried to go to bed, I'd do my best to wake her and drag her upstairs. These became extremely frequent occurrences and I expressed to her how frustrated I was that I had to fight with her just to come to bed so we could sleep (mind you, this is not even about sex. Often I'm taking her to bed at like, 1am and I work at 7, so I really just wanted her to be sleeping in the bed). Hell, one time, I started catching the vibes that the longer I sat and waited for her to be ready to go upstairs, she just never would be, because they were waiting for me to leave so they could talk in hushed tones. On THAT particular night, I went upstairs alone with her finally awake, and she did not join me for another half hour.
Finally, the day arrives. Its Sunday. We are all downstairs hanging out. One of their newest habits I can't really stand but just dealt with is that she'd sit and crochet while he doomscrolled or strummed on a guitar I bought him and listen to music videos on youtube endlessly. Eventually, I grow weary and give my wife a kiss and tell her I'm gonna go upstairs and play some GW2 for a bit.
About an hour passes, and she enters the game room and tells me "I am uncomfortable. I really need to talk to you. Oh, you're dying!" (As she entered the room, I immediately turn face to talk to her and disregard the game, but she decided that my Charr was more important that what was about to happen, so she of course warns me.) We step into the bedroom and close the door.
"You're going to hate me," she says through tears, "me and Z kissed!" At this point, my brain short circuits and I recall one of my first thoughts being "Oh lord, here we go." and just a general desire to not be a part of this conversation. Shock sets in almost immediately. Still with a healthy dose of denial, I talk to her about what had happened and told her that it needed to end. Even at this point, I did not want to send this man home. Was it shock? Denial? Probably a mixture of the two, or some other additional emotional responses. She gets up after some discussion and goes downstairs, promising to shut him down, but comes back about 15 minutes later sobbing "I couldn't do it! I couldn't end it..." (Side note: In my confused haze of a mind, I feel personally threatened, and after she leaves the bedroom, I lock the door and grab a metal water cub I keep at my side and prepare to actually fight if it comes to it, but once she returns, I back off that idea again.)
Talking with her more, I present her with two options; Couple's therapy, or divorce. BOTH of these options are world ending to her, and she even goes so far as to suggest that just because I said the "D word" that it was what I wanted, which was objectively untrue. We talk back and forth about things I don't quite recall at this point, aside from one point where she comes back and locks herself in the master bath and tells me to call 911, she doesn't care, because she's going to take a bunch of pills, but after a couple of hours, Z shows up to the door and knocks and asks if he can come in. I tell him he may enter, and we talk for a bit. After about 5ish minutes, we decide to go downstairs to the living room and continue the discussion.
Once I sit down on the sofa, I immediately feel like I'm being positioned as the bad guy. I'm in the corner of our sectional, and she's on my left, he's on my right. She tells him "He said it's either a divorce or couple's therapy." "Oh, so he gave you an ultimatum?" I continue to argue that yes, those are the two only options. Z tells me "You're not being fair to her emotions. She is telling you there is another option." I am thoroughly baffled at this statement.
D: I didn't think it was possible and I didn't mean for it to happen, but I have fallen in love with another man. My heart has room for two. I truly have two soulmates. I have never been happier than sleeping on the couch next to my two boys.
Z: There is no reason you guys can't stay married, and we can explore what we've found. I mean, look at how happy she has been since I have been here!
Sick to my stomach, I get up to go vomit in the toilet. Now, I wore a silicone wedding ring, and often find even with a hand wash, a little water tends to get trapped under it. After I finish and wash myself up, I come back and am playing with my ring to dry it. She sees this as a sign that I am uncomfortable again wearing my ring, and takes off her ring as I sit back down and hands me her wedding ring.
Me: Uh, excuse me?
D: This is what you want, I can tell.
Me: No? I was washing my hands and water gets stuck under my ring...
D: Oh... I thought... okay. (And she takes back her ring from me)
I tell her, very clearly, the options are to either end things with him, or end things with me. At this point, I'm still in shock, but sober in mind enough to decide that this is not worth fighting over. I will not argue with my own wife my merits or why she shouldn't just pack up and leave with a jobless, now essentially homeless man, and if she cannot figure that out herself then I will eventually move on.
Crying, sobbing, she sits down in front of him and says, "I'm so sorry, I fought for you. I really did. I told you I'd fight for you and I failed. I loved being your girlfriend, but I need to be a good wife and stay."
Z says "Alright." and starts to go gather his things to leave. As he does, she grabs him and says "No, wait! Please don't go. I don't know what I want."
Z: Ok, well if we're getting all this out in the open, I want to say this. I love this girl. I love her with my whole heart, and without her, life is not worth living. I will not leave this house if you (me) tell me to. Only her. You are taking this very well right now, I can tell you want to hit me (Still in shock, no, I can genuinely say that emotion or thought had not actually registered outside of the event upstairs earlier), but this is my stand.
D: OP, we had a good run. I'm sorry.
And with that, I get up and go to get my sandals and leave the house to get some air. As I try to go, she runs to the door and he follows her. She pushes the door closed and says "No wait, please!"
Me: No, this is the deal. I'm going out to get some fresh air. I am not threatening self harm to "win you back".
D: Will you be back?
Me: I don't know.
Z: Man, I'm telling you, you don't understand, you think I am your enemy, but I am not.
And with that, I leave and shut the door.
In the about, hour, I am gone, I drive around near the house and I call my supervisor who I have a very good relationship with (and I did not want to involve direct friends or family yet because I'm afraid it's too early to start spreading this news). I go over to her house nearby and we chat shortly. After our talk, I have at least something of a clear head and go home, with words for both of them.
As I arrive home, there is no one downstairs. I go upstairs. His door is closed. I knock on the door.
Z: Uh, one second.
I wait for about 5 agonizing seconds, but I refuse to be shut out of rooms in my own home and open the door. He is shirtless, and she is hiding in the corner just out of sight of me. I look him in the eye.
Me: Really?
Z: Yep.
Me: Get out of my house.
And with that, they both silently pack their things and leave.
The second I hear the front door close, I start calling people. I am not above pettiness, and the first person I call is her mom, whom I have a good relationship with. She is SHAKEN and immediately calls her. (I find out later that it was a particularly harsh verbal beating by her, but it really doesn't change anything.)
When I come downstairs to check the state of the house, I see her wedding ring on the counter. I call out of work the next day and lay down and hope I die.
Part 4: Her Problems
So, there is some additional context that I did not add in part 1 because a lot of it is red flags I ignored over the course of our relationship that, in the days following, started to become more and more obvious. There are many that I spent much effort playing off or covering her for, but I will try to briefly list much of what I see as glaring issues in the relationship that were never remedied.
This woman is 30 years old and cannot drive. She can drive and HAS driven my vehicle at the start of the relationship (albeit illegally), but after one tiny little accident where she hit a pole and knocked my side mirror off (which she paid for and fixed before telling me, it really wasn't a big deal. I was on deployment), she never drove again. Attempts to get her behind the wheel would end very quickly after they started, and the conditions to get her in the seat were often extremely time limited, scheduled, or something would come up, and every time I told her "okay, this month we're getting your license for sure" it just wouldn't happen and I'd end up feeling like the one who was at fault.
She does not have her Bachelor's degree because she did not turn in her final project for one single class. Not only that, but she has never truly pursued a career with the things she learned from the coursework, or even used her AA.
For half of the relationship, she did not work at all. When she did, it was often part time work, and if she was saddled with full time hours or, god forbid, overtime, it was a world-ending affair. She would come home and constantly be tired from her few hours at work and would do little more than sit around and crochet.
Our agreement when we bought our house was that she was going to work full time and we were going to split household duties, but I would definitely scoop the cat box because she was allergic (but she wanted cats) and wash dishes (because she hated them), and she would do laundry (because I hated it). In practice, all her version of laundry turned out to be was to throw loads in when one of us was out of clothes and just hit wash and then rotate, and then leave all the clothes in a pile on the bed. EVERYONE KNOWS folding the laundry is the worst part! Come on! Men's clothes are easy! I don't wear that much! (When we would fold, I often finished in a third of her time and would just hang out and chat until she was done)
Ultimately, this meant that for many years now, she was working barely more than part time if she was working at all, and would sort-of do laundry. Meanwhile, I am scooping litter, folding laundry, doing dishes, doing all related yard work, doing all the household cleaning, handling all the finances, I did MOST of the cooking, and all of the grocery shopping (often going alone), driving her from work if I could (she'd uber it if not) and picking her up and driving her home, as well as just generally being a chauffeur for her for 10 years, while working a full time job and a side gig online. Many nights I'd have to stop what I was doing to pick her up at closing hours, and then would sit in the parking lot for 30 minutes while she did tasks like vacuum her little crystal shop that she definitely could have done before close so I didn't end up waiting so damn long. Then we'd come home hang out and eat while we watched TV, and then if I wanted to try and go upstairs to do another hobby, I'd be silently guilted about it because she wanted to sit on the couch and crochet.
Part 5: My Problems
I am not perfect, and admit I have flaws. One of her favorite things to claim to our friends now is that I was "emotionally neglectful", and if there is truth to it, I think I can pin down the day. Before I started working full time again, I was going to school on the 9/11 GI bill. I was not a good student in my younger years, but in time, I have become rather good at school. My first two semesters back I easily maintained a 4.0 GPA. Over the summer in 2022, I, woefully, decided to take a Calc 2 class online because I could not find one in person and wanted to be ready for Calc 3 in the Fall to fill a prereq for my bachelor's, and I really liked the instructor for that Calc 3 class. This calc 2 class was painful. The instructor had clearly recorded all his lectures during Covid and we were simply given the full course of videos and given work assignments and said "Email me if you have questions." This is not how I learn, but I figured, hey, it's one class. I'm working again, but one class isn't a huge deal. I can knock this out.
I was wrong.
After the second exam, I had a low C in the class and I knew I couldn't keep up. I withdrew from the class feeling no other option. I tend to be pretty good at math, and ultimately my dream was to work with 3d printing on an industrial scale with a Mechanical Engineering degree- and if that failed I had my military history (which is engineering relevant) and a degree to fall back on and work should come easily. After clicking that withdraw button, I saw those dreams vaporize. After that, I threw myself into my government civilian job full time and slowly fell into depression. By the end of our relationship, with the toll of doing 99% of the work around the house and for her and with my dreams dead and buried, at age 33, I would wake up and pray I died. I would never kill myself, but I wanted to just die. I felt backed into a corner. I still did everything I could to support her and hoped that one day, she would pick up some of the load and maybe, just maybe, I could go back, but that day did not come (At least not in the way I expected).
Part 6: The Aftermath
This post is already too long, and if I include every single detail that has come to light since, I might actually hit the post cap, but I will go over at least some of it here.
I have had my friends come out in droves. Both of them have been effectively exiled, at least from what I can see, from every friend circle we have. After a couple of days, they flew back to live with, I guess, his parents in Vegas while they sorted shit out, because after I spoke with Z's previous roommate, he adamantly explained he was tired of all the "fucking drama" that Z had been bringing into the house and was just done with it.
I have spoken with many, many people and gotten even more context and even receipts of some of each of their conversations to our mutual friends, and some of the shit I read is just hilarious. He is "not ashamed of pursuing happiness, he is just sad that people got hurt". She is "coming to terms with emotional neglect and felt trapped, but now, yes now, she is free."
I got my neighbors to watch the cats, and took my dog up to visit my closest friend of 20 years and spent about a week and a half drinking, smoking, and talking about all this while surrounded by some of the most beautiful nature the US has to offer. Truly, without this man, I don't think I'd have gotten this far as quickly as I have. He really has been a lifesaver and I truly, to my dying day, will always appreciate him.
Paperwork has been filed, we wish to remain on good terms, and one day I still do hope I can be a friend to her, but she is woefully immature and incapable of adequately performing in an adult society. I have quit my job and am returning to school with a much lighter budget and will be getting that degree I desperately need.
It's been hard, real hard. I have put every ounce of my being into this relationship, and I truly felt like she was part of me, and nothing like this could ever happen. But it's that trust that allowed this to happen. I do not hate her, I'm just disappointed. I will pick up my pieces and, hopefully, find myself whole again soon.
Part 7: Rambling anecdotes
These are some stories I wanted to include in the previous body of text but didn't feel like it kept the same flow (if there even is any at all, I'm not proofreading this). If I remember any others after I post, Ill just toss them in the comments.
Early after Z came to live with us, my mother came to the house to drop off a package. I am pretty sure I was at work, but when my mother came to the door, both of them answered the door and the way my mom describes it "First of all, do you answer the door at your friends house? Also, the way he hovered over her made me uncomfortable. They were in the doorway and he was right up behind her poking his head out." She said my wife had told her that I was feeling unwell and was upstairs sleeping. I can't even be sure at this point.
Shortly before all the things happened, my parents were going out of town to celebrate their own anniversary, and I had agreed to dog-sit their 5 month old puppy (who, while cute, has WAY too much energy and was EXTREMELY difficult to handle, and I have raised several dogs at this point). We met up and took the dog, and then ALL of us (including Z) went to dinner. At dinner, my mother looked at my wife and asked, directly "And so how long have you been married? 6, almost 7 years? Well at least you missed that 7 year itch, huh" and my wife shortly followed with a comment about how she was not hungry and did not eat dinner that night.
All of this happened WHILE THIS CRAZY PUPPY was running around the house, and part of me thinks he pushed this to happen when it did because he could not stand having to help take care of this dog any longer (2 days).
About a week after all this happened, my wife did not text or call me, or respond to any messages or emails I sent her (I didn't send many, but they exist). Frustrated, I text her and tell her I need to talk to her about logistics moving forward, specifically about her belongings. She told me "I will talk to you when I am ready." We did not talk for another week. Also, she told me to stop talking to her mom. (I have a good relationship with both of my in-laws and while her step-father tried to remain impartial to the best of his abilities, he gave me some of the best advice I could possibly have gotten at that time, mostly about how to move forward and cope, as he has personally dealt with this with smaller relationships 3 separate times in his life which he gave me details on, and we are still on good terms.)
Their favorite TV show to watch together was Outlander, which, if you aren't aware, is basically a story about a woman who time travels and has two men in her life.
One of our biggest constant points of contention was my friendship with an old high school buddy (who I spent much of the time in the aftermath hanging out with while healing). We believe, with good reason, that she hated this man because after I had almost been hospitalized for psych reasons due to stress, he had told me I needed to talk to her about working again and doing more to help around the house. She figured out, obviously, who was telling me to say these things, and sent a very, very angry text to his wife. They all apparently made up, but I know she never let that grudge go.
One of the fairly recent hobbies I got into was D&D. It seemed like a good fit for all of us. She loved fantasy and gaming, I enjoyed 3d printing and story telling. She needed friends, and a party of people hangin out would give her at least a few connections to start. Every night she "participated" in D&D, she mostly sat quiet and did not do anything. Hell, I tried to get her to participate in 2 different games, and after she left the first one, she asked to just sit quietly in the discord call (This first one was online only, second was in person) and listen, which was super awkward. In the in person game, after 3 months of playing, she did not know how to play her character at all, and mostly spent her time at the table crocheting. (My buddy even made a comment about how at one point, he was proud of how good I was getting at DMing and I was giving particularly good exposition, and she interrupted me to hand another player at the table a dice bag she made. I don't remember it, but I absolutely believe this happened.)
The day of "the incident", she had a meltdown about how a friend of hers had ghosted her. I told her it was okay, she was much younger anyway and people grow apart. She's probably going through stuff and we should respect that path she's on. She cried about how she has no friends.
Also the day of "the incident", we were in the shower together and she told me she had met her sister's new BF on facetime. I asked "why did she break up with her old one?" "Well... she cheated on him." "Oh, that's a shame. Cheating is probably the most cowardly act a person can do to another. If you're going to start a new relationship, you need to grow a pair and end it before starting a new one." She clearly took my words to heart.
One of my biggest pet peeves about cleaning the house is our dog sheds, a lot. If I see a hairball roll through the house it immediately drains me a bit. We had a roomba. She would send that thing home when it started and never start it again. It barely ran. She would not vacuum.
One of the most common descriptors of her I've heard used by many people now that they're "allowed to" is "She was there, doing the thing with us, but it was like she wasn't there."
Something she thought that I apparently hadn't figured out by the time we talked after everything happened was that they had been talking since February. I told her I wasn't stupid and had figured it out already that this wasn't out of the blue.
Z's wife is currently pregnant with the baby of the man she cheated on him with. (And he is also married)
Anything else I remember Ill leave for comments, I know there is much, much more.

My grandmother died in February. I hadn't seen her - or many members of that side of the family - since 2018, the year I got married. After my divorce in 2020, I moved to NYC. I've had a rough past few years, emotionally and financially. My Nana and those relatives spent their time in Florida, Texas, and Alabama (where I am from originally). Whenever I visited my immediate family, the extended family wouldn't be there.
I deeply regret not making the time to see my grandmother before she passed. I grieved her immediately, breaking into tears and weeping for weeks. I contemplated and researched the afterlife. When I texted my dad to ask, "When will the funeral be? Nothing could keep me away", he replied, "5.18.2024."
May 18 is my birthday.
I typed a message asking why my birthday was chosen, but quickly deleted it. I tried to calmly ask my mother privately and she became irritable, yelling at me, "Do not bring this up to your father. He's going through a lot."
I found out over time that because the ground was frozen in Vermont (where my grandmother raised her family before retiring in Florida), and Vermont is where she wanted her ashes to be buried, they had to postpone the funeral. She had seven children who had to pick a date that worked for all of them. But still...my birthday? My dad didn't care to speak up about it being his only daughter's birthday?
Here's the thing: my whole life, I have felt like the least favorite grandchild, niece, cousin, etc. I knew deep down that my grandmother loved me, but it was clear she loved others more. One time she chose to take my cousin to Disney World the same day my family had driven in to visit her. She told my father to come the next day, but he didn't listen, and decided to surprise her instead. She grew irate and rushed to beat us home so we wouldn't find out, but my Grandpa spilled the beans. She could have waited a day to take me and my brother, but didn't. We never went to Disney World with her.
She was a devout Catholic her entire life, but rolled her eyes when my eleven-year-old-self - a Southern Baptist at the time - suggested we all pray before we eat dinner. When she and my mother found me sitting alone one day (as a thirteen-year-old), I told them I was contemplating my future, and whether I could get into Harvard or travel to Europe. She burst out laughing as if that was the most hilarious joke ever told. (She never got a degree or worked.)
I've been writing creatively since childhood, but she always told me I needed a "real career" and I couldn't dream about becoming a writer. I have been tall and thin my whole life. When I began modeling, she said, "Modeling is not for you." She showered my cousins in praise and validation and gifts. She sent me gifts and cards, don't get me wrong, but the difference in quality was obvious. She scolded me over things my cousins got away with easily.
I loved my grandmother. I love my parents. I didn't want to hurt my dad so I kept my feelings inside and told myself my birthday was not important. But then my fiance and I went to dinner a week early to celebrate, and my parents didn't even wish me a happy birthday. They didn't send a card. I asked why. My mother replied, "Isn't your birthday next Saturday? We'll celebrate you on May 20 when we are all together in your city."
After she said this, it sunk in for me that they never intended to even acknowledge me at all on my birthday. So I changed my return flight from the 19th to the 18th. I asked my dad if he could drive me to the airport on my birthday after the funeral, and he said no because he had to "spend time with family." So I secured a rental car. I would now fly from Vermont to Detroit and finally return home to NYC at midnight on my birthday.
I have lived in NYC for four years, and for four years, my parents have made excuse after excuse not to visit me. I had to beg my dad to agree to visit me in NYC on their drive back from Vermont to Alabama, which he didn't want to do. He didn't want to drive into NYC to pick me up either. Originally my parents were supposed to pick me up from the train station in New Jersey this Thursday, and I would fly back home on the 19th, and they would FINALLY visit me in Manhattan on the 20th. It was all set. I was looking forward to exploring my dad's home town with him and spending some quality time together a few days before the funeral. Then out of the blue, my mom insisted I fly in on Friday instead, under the guise of saving my PTO. But really they just wanted to get to Vermont sooner. I told my dad this hurt my feelings, that I had been looking forward to spending private time with my parents in his hometown.
Today I called them and asked for help covering my Ubers to and from the airports. I'm living paycheck to paycheck, and they know this. Nana's will insisted that her estate would cover everyone's accommodations at her funeral, and I was originally told that I would get my own hotel room. Then I found out that I would be sharing a house with my parents and multiple relatives who were part of the original discussion to plan the funeral on my birthday. That didn't sit right with me. I wanted to go for my Nana and my dad. I didn't want to have to stay in the same house as people who don't care about me.
I finally told my dad today how I feel, on speaker phone while he and my mom were driving across the country towards Vermont. I said I couldn't believe they planned Nana's funeral on my birthday, when they had months to plan for any other date. I told him how my mother wouldn't let me express my feelings to him everytime I tried to calmly ask why, why MY birthday, of all the birthdays in the family? Why did it have to be on anyone's birthday? I said this has been a recurring theme all my life, that nobody in this family cares about me. He replied, "Don't come. If that's how you feel, don't come."
So now I am crying and wondering if I should cancel my flights and rental car, and miss out on my Nana's funeral, or just go, despite the fact that nobody wants me there...and based on their choice of date, maybe they never did.
TL;DR: My relatives planned my grandmother's funeral months in advance on my birthday. I told my parents this made me feel unloved and my dad told me to not come to the funeral if that's how I feel.

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2) Hanchor Marl Large Backpack, 19-21 in. Torso, New, $239 (regularly $250 + $20 international shipping. Blows away Hyperlite Mountain Gear packs) - Top backpacking guide and author Andrew Skurka has praised the Hanchor Marl for its excellent construction, strong waterproof materials and light weight and has carried one on many trips. The Hanchor Marl blows away similar volume HMG packs for carrying capability, comfort and construction (incredible stitching), and at a much better price. Aluminum stays can also be shaped to exactly fit the curve of your back. The load lifters work great to keep weight off your shoulders. Bright interior makes it easy to find gear. Convenient hip pockets with waterproof zips. Clean, simple design is a pleasure to use, with everything you need and nothing you don’t. Large size typically fits 19-21 in. torsos (removable aluminum stays are 23.5 in long). Photos: https://imgur.com/a/fxTthYj
3) Ultimate Direction Fastpackher 30L, M/L, New, $139 (regularly $179.95 + tax) - Women's version of the above. Size goes by measurement around the widest part of the chest, the range is 36 in. to 48 in. and the pack is highly adjustable so you can dial it right in. The women's backpanel is only 1/2 in. narrower than the men's, so will fit men too. Just go to this link and click on "Sizing": https://ultimatedirection.com/fastpackher-30-2-0/ Photos: https://imgur.com/a/ZfY5IB4
4) Celestron TrailSeeker ED 8 x 42 Top-Rated Waterproof Binoculars, New, $289 (regularly $379.95 + tax) - Top rated for its class by Cornell Ornithology’s Binocular Buying Guide: “Our overall top pick for image quality and comfort among binoculars under $650.” Ideal for birding, hunting and sporting events. And 8 x 42 is the ideal size for varied light conditions as it gives you much better light gathering and a brighter image than smaller 8 x 25 binoculars. https://www.allaboutbirds.org/news/celestron-trailseeker-ed-8x42-binoculars-our-review/ Photos: https://imgur.com/a/Qda4Pvc
5) Hennessy Hammock 4 Season Expedition with XXL Snake Skins, New, $245 (regularly $309.90 = $289.95 + $19.95 for the XXL Snakeskins). Photos: https://imgur.com/a/LZN8HI8 Not only is the HH Expedition one of the best, most comfortable and durable 4 season hammocks you can get, it’s also popular for summer use in areas of high bug pressure as the double bottom is impervious to the worst mosquitoes (mosquitoes can bite through single layer hammocks). Many militaries rely on HH hammocks for good reason. Comes with attached mosquito netting, detachable Hex rain fly, support ropes, compression sack with set up instructions on back, complimentary standard 42" / 107 cm long "Tree Hugger" webbing straps to protect tree bark, and an oversized open-cell foam pad. HH asymmetrical design is very comfortable compared to more classic hammock designs.
6) Granite Gear Blaze 60L Backpack Women’s Fit, Highly Adjustable Regular Frame (18-21 in. torso), Black, New, only $189 (regularly $299.94 + Tax). Photos: https://imgur.com/a/SF9XV3r One of the most adjustable and comfortable lightweight load haulers. The capacity and generous extendable collar are great for longer trips or trips with heavier gear or a big water carry, yet easily cinch down for shorter trips. Women’s specific fit and frame is highly adjustable (also works great for men with narrower shoulder width). Makes a great winter pack too, with durable material and many lashing points.
7) Hillsound Weatherproof Packstack Pro Storage Sack, 40L Tall, New, $25 (regularly $35) weatherproof storage sack that made Outside Magazine's Gear Guide Editor's Choice Award. https://hillsound.com/products/packstackpro Photos: https://imgur.com/a/7wlWcDr
8) Hillsound Weatherproof Packstack Pro Storage Sack, 40L Short, New, $24 (regularly $34) - weatherproof storage sack that made Outside Magazine's Gear Guide Editor's Choice Award. https://hillsound.com/products/packstackpro Photos: https://imgur.com/a/7wlWcDr
9) COAST Dual LED Multi Tool, New, $30 (Regularly $49.99 + tax) - The LED150 Multi-Tool comes packed with 13 tools that can help you master any task or job. Tools: Spring-loaded pliers with wire cutter, 3.0 in. Blade, two built-in LEDs, Phillips (1) and flathead (3) screwdriver tips, bottle opener, wire stripper, can opener. 2 x CR1616 batteries included. With Coast’s commitment to quality, the LED150 Multi-Tool is backed by Coast’s lifetime warranty against defects in materials and workmanship. 4 in length closed. Never opened clear blister case has some small cracks in the back around the sheath. https://coastportland.com/products/led150 Photos: https://imgur.com/a/VryHhPy
10) COAST FDX300 Double Lock One-Handed Open Stainless Steel Folding Knife, 3 in. blade, New in package, 2 available, $45 for both (regularly each $30 + tax) - One-handed opening, double lock system for double safety, stainless steel handle, partially-serrated and partially-straight blade, ambidextrous opening, 3-position pocket clip, 7Cr17 stainless steel (also known as 68Cr17, a modified version of 440A steel, with more vanadium elements added to give it extra strength, increase toughness and wear resistance). Lifetime warranty. It’s the drop point version of this $29 COAST partially-serrated tanto: https://coastportland.com/collections/cutting-tools/products/fdx306 Photos: https://imgur.com/a/yxS7uno
11) Squeeze Water Filters & Water Pouches - Photos: https://imgur.com/a/EyGwPih
a) Squeeze 34 Oz. Personal Water Filtration Bottle SP140 with self-contained filter, New, $35 (regularly $50) - Just scoop water into the bottle and drink. Filters up to 100,000 gallons. Highest level of filtration at 0.1 micron absolute. https://www.amazon.com/Sawyer-Products-SP140-Personal-34-Ounce/dp/B005SO8VAE
b) Sawyer Squeeze Water Filtration System SP129, New $34 (Regularly $46 + tax) - Highest level filtration to 0.1 micron absolute. Identical filter to above b) SP131. Includes Two Reusable 32-Oz, Bpa-Free Collapsible Pouches That Roll Up Tightly For Easy Packing, Drinking Straw, One Set Of Sawyer Inline Hydration Pack Adapters For Filter, And Mesh Storage Bag. https://www.amazon.com/Sawyer-Products-SP129-Filtration-Squeezable/dp/B00B1OSU4W/ref=sr_1_3
c) Sawyer Tap Filter for fast emergency water & for cabin use, New, $36 (Regularly $48 + tax) - Great for muddy tap water following pipeline work, use at a cabin or in an emergency. With tap filter, backwash adapter, threaded spigot adapter, dual threaded adapter, tap gauge and extension hose. Highest level filtration 0.1 micron absolute.
d) Box of Two 64 oz Sawyer Squeeze Pouches, New, $10.50 (Regularly $14 + tax) - 1 left. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B005SO8SPC/ref=twister_B08NGGJMD6
e) Box of Three 16 oz Sawyer Squeeze Pouches, New, $6.75 (regulary $9 + tax) - 2 boxes available. https://www.highwaterfilters.com/products/sp116-sawyer-5-l-16oz-squeezable-pouch-set-of-3

• Author's Note: So! With Book #1 finishing at Issue #61 we now go into Book #2. The situation is changed for our protagonist and he's had it... decently rough, but always had people behind him for help. Wonder how his new position will affect him and his choices? We'll have to wait and see. Enjoy this little snippet to start us off with to the next leg of his journey! Also you can check character art of the Beast World characters or others on my Ko-Fi page! If you enjoy my art, I just opened comissions as well so hit me up if you want to get a piece!

Michael stepped through the dark woods at a slightly above leisure pace. The first rays of the dawn's light haven't yet penetrated the ironclad cover of the forest's canopy. Its thickness held together the shroud of darkness below, only small shreds of it peaking through rarely. Although he knew he walked a familiar path, the reduced visibility made the walk nearly alien, with a stumble here and a trip there, an uncertainty started to seep into Michael's chest even if he didn't know it.
'Alright. It is going to take a bit to get there, but I'll be making it in time. So... daeman. Based on what I know they are just basically pink demons. Ok, ok, ok... I've done this until now on a dime... I just... phew... just gotta do my character research. Yeah... just like theater. Literally it is just theatrics. So... what's a demon? Well if years of playing dnd thought me anything is that they are either feral, unhinged and nuts OR eerily calm, imposing, calculated and scheeming. I did both of those and a demon that can do both is even worse. Just gotta switch between those when it makes sense. Mhmm... so personality wise... basically gotta switch between one of those pointy eared muscle covered hounds and a chihuahua that can actually bite, not just bark.'
While the nervous human revised his 'role', he'd already start to adjust his body language. As if by instinct he'd lift his shoulders and roll them back, his spine popping as he straightened, shoulders relaxing and dropping at ease after that. This move would straighten his posture entirely and push out his ribcage and chest, something his mother drilled into his head over the years as being a confident, yet relaxed posture when done right. He'd straighten his head's posture, from the neck, which nearly made him look like it was positioned up from a downward perspective, requiring him to literally look down upon someone with his eyes. His hands were curled up nearing to fists, yet hung relaxed, as if to show an eager readiness for violence. As a last touch up instead of stepping quietly as he got used to over the years, he'd let his steps announce his presence, as one who's afraid of nothing would.
After traveling a bit over half of the treck towards the river and where the Rock Backs would be situated, there would be a clear sight of lights up ahead in the distance, clearly from torches. Michael would gaze at them with a bit of confusion, but regardless he kept on walking closer and openly. Slowly, three figures would be more visible, one of them turned showing as to either be themselves striped or have brown stripes painted on their back.
Only half a second of hesitation would pass as the human took in a deep breath and he then shouted out. "Ay! You three. You're with the Rock Backs, correct?" He'd say while showing quite the enthusiastic face despite his true feelings of nervousness.
As he had guessed, indeed the trio seemed to be Tuskir and the stripes confirmed their alegiance as expected. The figures turned to face him properly as he shouted in his approach. Once he got a bit closer, one of them that was a bit more upfront huffed a not so pleased snort at him.
"Aye. We were sent ahead to guide ya to our encampment, Daeman." He replied with a clear displeasure to his tone.
Another one of them stood silent as he just glared at Michael, while the third let out a guttural squeal and spat on the ground. "Well? What ya waitin' fer, hellspawn? Pick up the pace and keep yer paws where we can see 'em. Just cause ya struck a deal with Bruyza, it don't mean we gotta like ya."
"Dawww. Isn't this nice? We already seem to be getting along and on the same page. I've a feeling we'll be sharing stories soon while braidin' one another's hair, eh? You'd look good with twin tails." Michael said smirking while looking at the third Tuskir who haf a wilder mane and carried himself in a heavier looking armor than the other two.
The human continued his walk with the trio, but something didn't sit right with him. While they walked, two of the three had put out and discarded their torches. As they walked forward wordlessly, those same two boar men would also position themself to the sides and back of Michael, doing so nearly seemlessly, but not enough for the human not to notice.
While they advanced, Michael would peek at them with the corners of his eyes while also glancing forward at the only one who still had a light source. 'This doesn't feel right. I know for certain we were to meet at the same place as before... am I being paranoid? Alright... think. If they were afraid I'd not show up they'd wait until the time was up and then came to us... there's no reason for them to think I need escorts since I'm supposed to be a big scary strong thing. Eeeeh... why are these shmucks here then?"
Michael started taking into consideration multiple reasons that could be possible for his unexpected escort to be present, but none of them made sense. With his uneasiness building up, he'd sling his backpack off and hold it, quickly getting the attention of the two at the back.
"What do you think yer doin', hellspawn?" One of them asked while putting a hand on an axe hung by his belt.
"Hm? Oh, cut down on that paranoia. Makes you seem pathetic. This meat form I had to take to be here has needs. One of them happens to be water. If you've ever heard of somethin' like that, or... what? Do you milk rocks up in the mountains to sustain yourselves?" Michael would reply with a chuckle as he taunted his escort while starting to rustle objects in his backpack with his hand.
"You... hnngh-..." The Rock Back grunted and huffed as he muttered between clenched teeth.
Taking advantage of this momentary distraction, Michael would feel about and find one of his tiny Woh flask potions and he'd use his fingers to tuck it into the band of his bracer at the wrist, before grasping a hold of a small water skin and pulling it out. 'Heh. Well, I might not be a good slight of hand at pocker, but I didn't learn to hide pieces of paper in my sleeves for nothing. Stressful, but thanks to that I passed chemistry in highschool.' He'd think while smirking at the one of the escort he just antagonized, giving him a double eyebrow wiggle lift up as he took a sip of his water.
"You really like talkin' daeman, or you just like the sound o' your voice?" The armored one asked, who also happened to be the one with the torch at the front. He walked with his back turned at the human, not even trying to gaze back as he spoke.
"Eh. I find conversing with you meat sacks at least a bit intriguing. It is fun to hear what thoughts run through those narrow minds of yours. Why are you asking? Interested in actually entertaining me in conversation?" Michael would reply as he packed his waterskin once more and put his backpack back on.
"Thought ta meself it'd be crazy to converse with somethin' like ya, but then I realized, what da hell, when am I ta get another chance like this?" The Tuskir continued while slowing his pace, as if to let Michael approach to make their talk easier to get into.
The human naturally inched closer bit by bit as he simply walked, his smirk still on his expression. He'd keep vigilent of the two in the back while moving up in the small formation. "Indeed. Perhaps I'll be able to satisfy some of your curio-"
Before he could finish his sentence, the armored tuskir in front of him stopped dead in his tracks, turning with a decently large vial of liquid and herbs in his other hand and he'd splash Michael right in the face. Surprised by the sudden violent spill of liquid against his face, the human would close his eyes and bring his hands to his face to quickly wipe away the liquid. While blinded in this manner, his guard would be shattered as a brutal force would then slam into his right side, making Michael buckle as he got sent rolling in the opposite direction.
"HAHAHA! GOT 'IM GOOD, DIDN' I?!" exclaimed one of the two Tuskir from the back, who was armed with a club, right after he just bashed up the human.
Michael took a half second to realize he just got attacked, with the hand that had the vial hidden against its wrist pushup to his eyes to wipe them, he'd push himself up on the other wobbly like. He was afraid to try and open his eyes, unknowing what he got splashed with so instead he bit on the cork of his poison vial, opened it and stashed it in his cheek, as he dripped the solution on his tongue while wiping his eyes. "I- I can't see-..." he groaned loudly while trying to get his footing.
"Yeah. You got 'im good." The armored tuskir said while tossing the vial aside. "Better prepare yourself fer a sudden departure daeman. We'll make sure ta send ya back to the firey pit ya came from. Hope ya liked a lil' taste o' holy water. Keep ya well on your way back." He'd say while taking a handaxe off of his own belt.
"Hah ha ha... Sadly fer ya, not all o' us are keen on makin' deals with hell filth. Bruyza ain' gonn' be happy with ya missin' but is expected of daemen to be shifty scum, so yer missin' presence will be easy ta explain when we're all... surprised yer missin', he he he... ." The tuskir who Michael antagonized said while snorting and cackling, unsheathing his handaxe at the ready.
The three began closing in on Michael, their gate relaxed as they taunted him, their confidence in having the upperhand letting them ooze with a gloating energy. Michael instead had finally gathered himself, head tilted back as he held onto his face, having just finished the last few drips of the Woh vial.
"I can't see... how you furred fucks didn't think that'd just piss me off." He'd say as his trembling voice would change to one more confident. As he spoke he lowered his head at a way lower angle, pulling his hand down in the same motion to reveal a pair of bloodshot eyes, as well as a bloody dripping nose and a wide toothy grin, stained by his own crimson. The shadows on his face would make it seem like he bared his teeth from ear to ear, the expression of the pin point focused eyes, quickly darting to focus on each of the three attackers. Now, that put a stop to their enclosing movement, and this simple shift had changed their confident gloating to a dread filled uncertainty.

At the world’s top college of magic and technology, every day brings a new discovery -and a new disaster. The advanced experiments of the college students tend to be both ambitious and apocalyptic, with the end of the world only prevented by a mysterious time loop, and a small handful of students who retain their memories.
Surviving the loops was hard enough, but now, in his senior year, Vell Harlan must take charge of them, and deal with the fact that the whole world now knows his secrets. Everyone knows about Vell’s death and resurrection, along with the divine game he is a part of. Now Vell must contend with overly curious scientists and evil billionaires hungry for divine power while the daily doomsday cycle bombards him with terrorists, talking elephants, and the Grim Reaper himself -but if he can endure it all, the Last Goddess’s game promises the ultimate prize: power over life itself.
[Previous Chapter][Patreon][Cover Art]
“Four years on and the headache still sucks,” Vell groaned to himself.
Though most of the loopers had managed to make it to midnight alive, they had nothing to show for it but headaches. They had not succeeded in digging Cane out of the rubble, or investigating his apparent ghost theory in any other way. That was a complication, but not a fatal one. They had some leads to work with, at least, and Vell knew where to get started on the ghost angle. Vell gladly made the call that would get them started.
“Goooooood morning Mr. Harlan,” Harley chimed. “What’s happening?”
“Frog invasions, among other problems,” Vell grumbled.
“Oh, that’s a time loop headache if I ever heard it,” Harley said. She’d run into that affliction more than a few times.
“Yeah, it’s not great,” Vell said. “Listen, do you still have Garrett’s number?”
“Ooh, ghost problems, eh?” Harley said. “I’ll text it to you.”
“Thanks. I kind of got to get right to it, so I’ll have to give you the details later, alright? Love you, Harley.”
“Love you too, bud,” Harley said. “Say hi to Garret for me.”
Vell hung up the first call and braced himself for the second. He liked Garret, but he could also be a lot to deal with -a fact well-demonstrated by the phone call beginning with Garret’s theme music blaring over the phone. Once the bombastic rock and roll stopped, Vell was disappointed to hear a mechanical beep indicate the start of an answering machine message.
“Hi, you’ve reached Garret Geist, Ghost Getter,” the message said, in Garrett’s usual southern california drawl. “I’m currently on a long-term submersible mission to exorcise the ghosts of shipwreck victims who’ve been trapped undersea for centuries.”
“What?”
Vell knew it was a recording, but needed to voice his offense anyway. It was hard to truly be mad knowing Garrett was doing something so incredibly heroic, though.
“I should be back to the surface and ready to help in a few days, so please leave a message and I’ll get to you as soon as I can!”
The automated message clicked again and fell silent. Vell hung up the phone and let out a low groan of despair.
“Okay, we’re not screwed yet,” Vell said. “Just need to wait a bit.”
Vell brushed his teeth and rushed through breakfast, and then, right on cue, heard a knock on his door. He whipped it open to find a bothersome scientist once again at his door.
“Hi, good morning,” Vell said, as he opened the door. “You here to bother me about Quenay?”
“I- uh, I have some very interesting theories.”
“I’m sure you do,” Vell said. “If you can just hold on one second…”
Vell paused and waited. The bothersome student also waited, at least for a few seconds.
“What exactly are we waiting for?”
“This.”
Cane grabbed the student by the collar and yanked them away from the door. Vell invited him in and slammed the door shut behind them to really drive the point home.
“Thank you for that,” Vell said. “Did you need something?”
“Just to talk to you,” Cane said. “I was trying to get people together to hang out tonight. Figured you’d want in, if you’re not too busy.”
“I could probably make it, I just have to…”
Vell froze. He really should’ve come up with these lies in advance.
“You good, Vell?”
“I, uh, sorry, just losing track of things, mentally,” Vell said. “I’ve had a lot of people, uh, ask me for help with things.”
“What kind of things?” Cane said. “You need a hand?”
“Maybe.”
Vell contemplated how to proceed for a moment, and then figured he’d probably built up enough good will with Cane over the past four years he could just dive right in.
“You ever heard about frog ghosts?”
“Yeah,” Cane said, without so much as blinking.
“Oh, cool,” Vell said. “What about them?”
“Well, hold on, are you talking about frog ghosts as in the ghost of frogs, or a ghost related to frogs?”
“Either or, I guess?”
“Okay, because I don’t know anything about any ghostly frogs,” Cane said. “There is supposedly the ghost of a guy obsessed with frogs on campus, though.”
“Interesting. Tell me about the frog guy.”
“I don’t know all the details, it was kind of an urban legend even when my brother came here about a decade back,” Cane said. “All he ever told me was the this frog-obsessed sophomore died while studying, and he haunts the basement of the sophomore dorms, I guess. ‘Some say you can still hear faint croaking in the basement’ and all that horror story shit.”
“Interesting,” Vell said, again. “Let me look into that and we’ll circle back later, alright? I gotta go, see you.”
“Vell-”
“Sorry, kind of in a hurry, bud,” Vell said, as he left and shut the door behind.
“This is your dorm, dude,” Cane said.
***
“You were not exaggerating about this headache,” Alex said.
“We warned you,” Kim said. “Man, it’s almost better to die.”
“How do you have a headache, you’re made of metal!”
“It’s complicated,” Kim said. Her synthetic body did not spare her from the time loop headache, no matter how she rebuilt herself.
“Good morning everyone,” Helena said, as she whacked the door open with a crutch. “What did I miss?”
“Quiet down a little, please” Hawke said.
“Why?”
“Do you not have a headache too?”
“No, I died pretty early,” Helena said. “Got a frog on me.”
“You died from a frog touching you? What condition do you have that causes that?”
“Well it was a poison dart frog, so I guess ‘being alive’,” Helena said. Samson pursed his lips and said nothing. “What did you all get up to while I was busy being dead?”
“Vell found out the frogs were summoned by a weird frog-obsessed ghost,” Hawke said. “He apparently knows a guy who might be able to help.”
The loopers then proceeded to relax and chat about frogs, ghosts, and other miscellaneous topics for about seven minutes, which made it a lot less dramatic when Vell barged in and announced Garret would be unable to help.
“Oh come on,” Kim snapped. “What’s the point of knowing a ghost hunter if he never helps hunt ghosts?”
“He’s on some undersea mission to rescue lost souls,” Vell said. “Which makes it really hard to be mad at him.”
“And yet I manage,” Kim said. She didn’t begrudge Garret personally, but she had been hoping for their first easy win of the year. All the apocalypses thus far had been a major pain in the ass.
“Aren’t you people supposed to be able to handle things like this?”
“Yes, Alex, and we will,” Vell said. “Just would’ve been nice to have a professional on the job.”
“I’ll get the ghostbusting stuff ready,” Hawke sighed. He would’ve loved a chance to outsource their daily nonsense.
“Keep it on standby for now,” Vell said. “Ghosts have unfinished business or regrets. If we can help our ghost deal with whatever frog-related business he’s got going on, maybe we can fix this without having to bust anyone.”
“That’s your plan?” Alex said. “Be nice to the ghost that crushed a building and hope it goes away?”
“Yes,” Vell said, with a completely straight face. “And busting is plan B.”
“Bustin’ makes me feel good,” Hawke sang, as he grabbed all their various ghostbusting gear.
“True professionals at work,” Alex scoffed. Everyone else rolled their eyes and got back to work.
“Vell is an old pro at being nice to people,” Kim said. “Just ask Helena’s sister.”
“Don’t pat yourself on the back, Joan’s incredibly susceptible to manipulation,” Helena said. It was disturbing she’d say that, and even more disturbing she knew that. “That said, anyone dumb enough to get stuck as a ghost for decades will probably buy into your routine just as easily.”
“Thanks for your input,” Vell said. “I’m just going to go ahead and get started.”
He said that both because it was important and because it was an excuse to get away from Alex and Helena faster.
“Need any backup?” Samson asked, for similar reasons.
“I’ll check it out solo first,” Vell said. Historically speaking, he was the best people-pleaser, a dubious honor at best, but one that came in handy when dealing with a frog-summoning ghost. “I’ll let you know if I need backup.”
“Or busting,” Hawke said.
“Or busting,” Vell agreed. “I have to find out where the ghost is, for starters. I’ll be in touch soon.”
***
Finding the lair of the ghost was the first hurdle. As it turned out, the sophomore dorms had a lot of basements. Every building on campus had a lot of basements, so Vell was not all that surprised. At least these basements didn’t have booby traps or old experiment equipment in them. They mostly just had a lot of junk. Vell kicked aside some old food wrappers and scanned the room.
“Why do people treat these empty rooms like dumping grounds?”
“People are usually different when they think no one is watching.”
Vell whipped around and saw a transparent head poking through one of the nearby walls. A ghost if Vell had ever seen one.
“Oh, hi,” Vell said. “Uh, weird question, how do you feel about frogs?”
“I’m ambivalent at best,” the ghost said. “Are you looking for the frog guy? Because he haunts two rooms over.”
The ghost pointed to the right, down the hall, and Vell looked that way.
“Thanks,” Vell said. He took a few steps towards the door before spinning around to face the other ghost again. “Uh, do you need any help like, moving on? Finishing unfinished business?”
“Nah, we get wifi down here, so I don’t mind just chilling,” the ghost said. “Thanks for offering though.”
The ghost drew back into the wall and vanished from sight. While Vell was painfully curious as to how a ghost accessed wifi, he decided it was time to move on. The frog ghost was apparently close by, after all.
Vell followed the wifi ghost’s directions and hopped two doors down, barging into a subterranean room that was uncomfortably moist and smelled of mud and rainwater. Condensation dripped from the ceiling and onto Vell’s back, sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine. Unlike other rooms, this one was completely free of any garbage, but Vell took no comfort in that.
“Hello? Anybody home?”
A chill ran down Vell’s spine that definitely was not another drop of water. He waited two seconds, took a deep breath, and turned around.
“Hello.”
Vell was just inches away from another transparent face. This one had a slight green tint, with wide set eyes and a broad, flat mouth. Vell wondered if the similarities to a frog had been there during this person’s life, or if they just liked frogs so much their ghost had slowly shifted to reflect their passion.
“Hey! Hi, uh, nice to meet you,” Vell mumbled. “I’m Vell.”
“I’m Raine.”
“Neat, nice name,” Vell said. If Raine noticed the awkward hesitation in the compliment, he didn’t show it. “So, uh, I was wondering, well, I heard you were the guy to ask about frogs.”
The already wide eyes of the ghost got even wider, and visible excitement trembled through their spectral form. Vell began to think he may have made a mistake.
***
“So even though it’s the biggest frog in the America’s, the helmeted water toad is still only half the size of the Goliath frog,” Raine said. “Which must be wild for the helmeted water toad. Could you imagine crossing an ocean and finding out the people who live there are literally twice your size?”
“Must be pretty mindblowing, yeah,” Vell said.
“And that’s not even going into the real extremes,” Raine said. “Do you remember our pal P. Amauensis?”
“How could I forget,” Vell said, about something he had definitely forgotten.
“Not just the world’s smallest frog, but maybe the world’s smallest vertebrate,” Raine said. “Only seven point seven millimeters long, a literal fraction of the Goliath frog! Could you imagine meeting someone who’s only as big as your toe?”
“I actually did, once,” Vell said. “Shrink ray.”
“Oh. Was...was it weird?”
“A little,” Vell said.
“Wow. You almost know what it’s like to be a Goliath frog meeting a P. Amauensis,” Raine said. “I’m so jealous.”
“Yeah, I’ve done a lot of interesting stuff,” Vell said. “What about you, what’d you get up to when you weren’t studying frogs?”
Raine tilted his spectral head and stared blankly at Vell.
“You did do things other than study frogs, right?”
“Not if I could help it,” Raine said.
“Okay, uh...what did you like to eat?”
“Oh, I just ate food whenever I was hungry,” Raine said. “What I really liked to do was gather samples of different bugs and other frog dietary staples, so I could try to get a sense of their diet for myself.”
“Like, cooked bugs, or just raw, living bugs,” Vell said. He’d eaten a few different varieties of cooked bugs, just for the experience, but couldn’t imagine eating raw insects.
“If I could find them, yeah, live ones,” Raine said. “It got pretty hard after I got banned from the entomology department.”
“That’d do it,” Vell said. “So, did you, uh, go swimming a lot?”
“Oh yeah, all the time,” Raine said. “Until I got banned from the pools too. Trying to swim like a frog doesn’t work very well, and they got sick of having to rescue me, I guess.”
“You could’ve just swam like a person.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To...I don’t know,” Vell said. He was starting to feel like Raine’s entire life and unlife revolved around frogs. “Did you ever do anything, I don’t know, human?”
“Oh, I studied frogs,” Raine said. “Frogs lack the self-awareness to understand frogs. It’s their only flaw, really.”
“I see. So what’s your favorite frog?”
As expected, this set off a long rant, as Raine found it hard to pick a favorite and had to start listing pros and cons of various frog species. It was not exactly scintillating conversation, but it kept Raine talking instead of somehow summoning frogs. Vell kept reminding himself that was the real goal. He was not here to have a pleasant chat, he was here to prevent the frogpocalypse. Anything that kept Raine ranting was good. He was saving the world.
As Raine started ranking every existing frog species by maximum jump distance, Vell kept repeating that to himself. Saving the world, one frog jump strength at a time.

Ok fuckers, I think I see what DFV is seeing - LEAP expiry.
LEAPS, or Long Term Equity Anticipation contracts are basically long duration call contracts. How long is the duration you say? Well, funnily enough, 3 FUCKING YEARS (39 months).
39 months? Wow, what date was 39 months ago? February 14, 2021. Right after the sneeze, right when 'sMaRt MoNe' was working out how to un-fuck itself.
I think this is what DFV has seen... The leaps are expiring, what does this mean? Well I believe it means that the short sellers are here to fuck the market makers in the ass - they aren't the good guys, but their exit strategy means scorched earth for the cucks stupid enough to sell them their LEAPS.
Wait, why?
Well, when the short sellers were hardcore underwater, rather than attempt to cover their short and get fucked as the exit closed when there were no shares to buy, instead they purchased LEAPS. This way they could keep their short in the game. A LEAP is a useful hedge for a short position, because when you decide you want out, you can exercise your contract to provide shares which you can use to unwind your short, it doesn't negate your losses, but it protects you against 'infinite risk' because you can get shares, you shift the risk onto the Market Maker who sold you the LEAP.
Why not just use calls, they're cheaper? Yes, calls are cheaper, but they have a much shorter expiry. Remember, the goal here is to never close the short, if they used calls they'd have to purchase 39 months worth. They want to hold the short in forever, so they buy LEAPS.
So, when the sneeze is blowing you up, you purchase LEAPS, and you purchase them at the furthest distance out (three years), they're cheaper than getting squeezed and easy, and you tell FINRA you're neutral on the trade. This way you don't have to close out your short (which would kill you). You hold on to your LEAP in the hope you never need to use it, you want the stock to hit 0 remember. You hope and pray those fucking stupid apes leave you and your crime alone.
Well fuck, 39 months has passed, how times flies. Now your LEAP is about to expire worthless, and you're still underwater. Time to pull the emergency handle, time to pop smoke and bug out - you execute your LEAP. The market maker has to sell you shares at whatever price your strike was, probably way OTM so it's costing your a lot, but fuck it, you need out and you've held on as long as you can. The biggest risk here is getting trapped, so by exercising your LEAP instead of hitting the open market, you hand that risk onto the market maker - it's his problem now, off your ride into the sunset, poorer but free.
This I think, is what DFV is seeing. I think he knows they used 39 month LEAPS to cover their short... I think he knows that the market makers are about to have to purchase more shares than exist in order to satisfy the contracts. If you're short and unprotected, you're about to get trapped.
Am I smoking crack here or are we onto something?
TLDR; Short sellers covered their short positions with LEAPS (long term calls) that are now expiring. They're executing the leaps to get shares to close out their positions - their time has run out and they've pulled the escape hatch.
Also credit to Complex37, RC tweeted a 🐸 emoji as his first post after the sneeze...
Just as another addendum to clear up the question of 'why would short sellers execute LEAPS'. We know Archegos was turbo short GME. We know Credit Suisse held those bags. We know UBS is currently trying to unwind that pile of shit. If UBS saw that LEAPS were being used to net out the shorts, it would make sense for them to execute them in order to unwind the Archegos/Credit Suisse shitpile. They can't keep Credit Suisse risk on their balance sheet forever, they have to clear it. The GME trade was nothing to do with them and I doubt they'd perpetuate it by rolling the LEAPS. - I wonder if we'll see UBS start to crumble soon...

"Good evening, tributes, and welcome back to the stories of Panem. Before we begin, I would like to thank Christian Blanco, the original writer of "Tales of the Hunger Games," and Lauren from "Panem Reborn." Now, since I don't have too much else to say, let's go!
Game 114 (150):
District 1: Jacqueline and Facet
District 2: Malona and Crane
District 3: Darlene and Colt
District 4: Brook and Harbor
District 5: Unknown girl and Darian
District 6: Fifi and Atlas
District 7: Bloom and Amarylio
District 8: Scarlet and Carter
District 9: Zest and Mazin
District 10: Zulu and Mateo
District 11: Unknown girl and Lee
District 12: Dorothy and Hargree
District 14: Both unknown
A plethora of excitement crossed the capital over the past year, especially their beloved commentator Camilia Ravenstil's pregnancy, which resulted in her giving birth to twins named Amelia and Cyrus, to honor the past two Game Makers. Even Winnow's victory was still in high popularity.
As the reapings rolled around on July 4th, many of the capital citizens flew to their TVs and viewing parties. Winnow made her journey from district to district with her mother and entourage from the capital. When she landed in District 4 on the late morning of the third day of the reapings, she was greeted by Mayor Chigwell. After a rather long tour of the district's harbors and jewelry stores, they stopped at a nearby seaside diner for a brief lunch. Viewers in Snow Square laughed at Winnow's face of pure boredom as Mayor Chigwell ranted about the latest trends in the district's fashion. Winnow's face soon turned to relief as the mayor brought her back to the district's reaping square.
After a little bit of time, the light blue-catered youths were walked into the square by rather impatient Peacekeepers. Mayor Chigwell finished up his speech before welcoming Winnow to the stage. She gave out a rather tired smile at the district's population before talking about the joys of being a victor. She then asked if any of the girls wanted to volunteer. After hearing no response, she then took out the name of 17-year-old Brook Branachok.
Brook was found in the back of the 17-year-old section. Her platinum blonde hair made her quite noticeable to viewers in Snow Square. She sighed dramatically before flipping her blonde hair back in a dramatic manner as her piercing blue eyes even made some of her nearby peers shudder in fear as Brook arrived at the stage and shook Winnow's hand. "She was later described as a 'rich high school bully' by commentators. The girls in a mood," Winnow laughed before shaking Brook’s hand before walking to the male reaping bowl. After a brief silence, she thrusted her hand elbow-deep before taking out the name of 17-year-old Harbor Zanders. A brief pause soon followed by a discussion as a boy with dark brown curly hair with a smattering of light brown freckles on his face gave a guilt-ridden smile before walking up to the stage. However, as a group of teens his age giggled, Harbor turned back and glared at the giggling boys as they suddenly grew quiet. Harbor soon took out a flask of wine. Capital citizens laughed as Harbor found one of his friends and tossed it to him before walking back up to the stage. Back in the capital, both Camilia and Silca and even most of the audience had been surprised at the pair's striking attitudes.
Harbor then shook Brook and Winnow’s hand before they were announced as this year's tributes for District 4 before moderate applause followed. Winnow soon brought the two tributes to the drawing room before she made her journey to District 3 with her entourage.
Brook was visited by her mother, father, and four younger sisters clinging dearly onto their sister. After successfully removing her sobbing siblings, Brook’s mother calmed her daughter down as her father, Coral, gave the best advice he could offer. Peacekeepers soon came in to bring Brook to the waiting dock. She waved and said she’d "At least try to win."
As for Harbor, he was visited by his mother, father, and his younger and older brothers. As his siblings were saddened as well as his parents, Harbor embraced them all in a tight hug. Before he was needed at the dock, his girlfriend Melanie even joined in this hug causing Harbor to show some emotion.
After a few more minutes, peacekeepers soon brought Harbor out of the room to join Brook at the dock as the pair boarded the jet boat to the capital.
"Man, you've been through the ringer, haven't you?"
"Same goes to you, girl. Haven't seen you in a year."
The pair soon chatted with each other about their experiences at the academy and gossiping about old friends. Brook, in particular, laughed hysterically when Harbor mentioned how his ex-girlfriend got karma returned to her when she crashed a birthday party at Harbor’s dad's bar, resulting in the peacekeepers putting her in the district's jail for a month.
However, as the pair tried to dine upon the food provided, the boat hit a bump resulting in Brook, Harbor, four avoxes, the dining table, and nine peacekeepers to go flying up into the sky. Thankfully, no harm came between the fifteen as the peacekeepers then helped the two back up as a new lunch buffet was arrived. And so did their mentor, Sienna Shoreville, victor of the 105th Hunger Games, arrived in.
"I don't want you two to ally with the 2s, maybe the 1s, depends on how they are."
Brook looked curiously at Sienna before saying, "Didn't Anamaria get her neck snapped by the girl a year prior?"
Sienna groaned in annoyance at remembering this cringeworthy death before walking to the bar carriage before inviting the two to join. As Sienna asked the pair about their lives, she laughed while listening to Harbor telling some stories of working at his dad's bar and the customers who would frequent the place. However, when Sienna asked Brook about her life and possible skills, Brook sighed before saying, "I guess looking pretty’s a skill."
Sienna laughed before replying, "For getting sponsors, yes, but not when you're in a fight to the death."
As this reality check wiped the smile from Brook’s face, she and Harbor finished up their meals before listening more to Sienna’s lecture about the games. And as an act to see if her tributes were actually paying attention, she quizzed them on the dos and don'ts in the capital. As Harbor passed this quiz, Sienna laughed before allowing him some "Capital Goodies." However, as Brook blatantly failed the quiz, she laughed and called Harbor a "suck-up" before walking to her room.
Sienna looked at Harbor for a second before saying, "I guess she’s either related to the mayor or is a spoiled rotten brat."
"She usually brags about her rich family members, always thinks she's better than everyone."
"And trust me, the girl ain't pretty."
Sienna and Snow Square laughed as she then patted him on the back before""telling him to get a 'nap' in before they were to arrive in the capital."
He nodded before Brook returned. It is unknown what the two girls talked about for the remainder of the trip, but our historians have noted that Brook’s scowl from before had dissolved for the time being. As evening rolled around, the pair from District 4's boat landed at Mcaine dock as an excited crowd of capital citizens swarmed the pair from 4 and their very popular mentor, who had been giving out her new jewelry to some of her lucky fans.
Brook and Harbor performed rather well, with the capital citizens enjoying their "feisty sailor attitudes." Even some reporters from Golden 24 put up a most popular tribute poll with Harbor and Brook being in the top 3, narrowly beating Fifi from District 6.
Sienna then thanked the capital for their time before taking her tributes to the limousine. Once it arrived at the accommodation tower, they arrived at the 4th floor. After arriving, Sienna called their stylist, Orivile Cartwright.
Orivile embraced Sienna before showing his tributes his pre-made outfits, which were Sailor themed, which made Brook and Harbor smile. Due to them having a fair amount of time left, Sienna displayed the post-reaping commentaries before turning on the commentary for District 1 as Orivile worked away at the pairs' outfits.
Mayor Cassino greeted a very exhausted Winnow Fraiser. Also accompanying the mayor was Realm Jones, victor of the 101st Hunger Games, and Quintin Mahoney, victor of the 108th Hunger Games, joined Winnow on the initial tour. Winnow appeared to be star-struck sitting between both iconic victors. She even turned around to Quintin saying, "I can't believe I get to meet a legend like you."
Quintin laughed before giving Winnow some comic relief during the tour, telling her about his games and even asking a few questions about her own games. At the conclusion of the tour, Realm's eyes lit up in delight as he saw his own capital mentor, Narcissa Valentions, warmly embracing her mentee.
"So what're you doing here?"
"I had some time off. I figured I'd come by and see how you've been doing. Business at my shop has been bustling as ever, so I figured I’d take a break to see my first victor."
As Realm and Narcissa soon walked over to the talent demonstrations together, Quintin laughed as Mayor Cassino welcomed the scarlet youths. Winnow was then brought up to the stage. She asked if any of the youths wanted to volunteer, becoming surprised when 10 ladies and 8 gentlemen volunteered for the role of tribute for District 1. Silca joked with Camilia, saying, "It's normal for them, isn't it?"
With the ladies' many remarkable weapon displays and archery displays, 18-year-old Jacqueline Faywether had been announced as the final volunteer to try her luck. She smiled at many nearby cameras as even one enthralled boy in the audience fainted seeing the rather extractive career girl.
She shot 10 arrows blindfolded and threw 8 knives in the letter J form, causing even more ripples of laughter sounded in the square. The mayor announced the two passing tributes. As for the two tributes, Jacqueline’s only remaining opponent, Jewel, had almost won the title of female tribute but had a stroke leading to Jacqueline to win the title of female tributes.
As for the guys, 18-year-old Facet Elixithorn had made himself a crowd and capital favorite by his spear-throwing display and to ending in a handstand with wild applause following. Three guys made it to the debate round with Realm this time asking the questions. With poise and dignity, Lance’s strong mind and less nerves had won him the title of male tribute for District 1.
After the pair were bathed and stylized, they were then brought out to the square as they then shook Winnow’s hand before she announced Jacqueline and Facet were announced as the tributes for District 1.
And after a brief meeting with their families and friends with not too much emotion, Jacqueline and Facet were then brought to the train as the train began their journey to the capital.
Narcissa, Realm, and Quintin then greeted their tributes with Jacqueline and Facet being surprised seeing their district's first victor’s mentor. Quintin soon brought the four to the table having a brief dinner with Narcissa asking the two if they had any skills besides their ‘weapons of choice.’ Quintin was pleased to hear of Jacqueline's diverse skills of weaponry before bragging to her district partner about her achievements at the Kobayashi self-defense center. However, instead of being jealous, Facet asked his district partner about her accomplishments.
Realm and Quintin were pleased with their tributes getting along with each other before showing the past reapings in the districts. Facet and Jacqueline laughed hysterically at the District 2 reaping games even Narcissa let out a smile. Quintin then asked the pair if there had been “Other commendable allies besides the non-dazzling loonies from 2 besides Jade and Hermina, they are dazzling.” Realm also chimed in adding that they should “Look for others.”
However, as Jacqueline was going to ask why Realm shushed her and said, “The career pack has their on and off years.” Jacqueline nodded before Quintin continued talking to the pair about the past reapings. Facet and Jacqueline even suggested the girl from 3 and the pair from 4 as potential allies. Realm appeared to consider this before Quintin added in that “He would see what he could do.”
As the pair nodded, the pair from 1’s train arrived in the outskirts of the capital. Narcissa soon styled the pair up, quietly complaining to Realm of how Jacqueline's red hair and Facet's long blonde curls were impossible to tame. The train then arrived in the capital with the usual excited capital crowd marveling scarlet couture. Jacqueline and Facet were both outstanding hits with the capital citizens maintaining proper etiquette. However, two capital lights had to be removed from the audience after heckling Facet about his district partner. Narcissa then wished Jacqueline and Facet luck before kissing Realm and Quintin on the cheek. Realm and Quintin then thanked the capital citizens for their time before bringing the pair from 1 to the limousine as it brought them to their accommodation tower.
Once they arrived at their accommodation tower apartment, they were greeted by their stylist, Aurelia Heavensbee. She smiled at the four of them before whisking them to the dining table showing them her designs for the parade. Jacqueline in particular was marveling at her long ruby dress as Facet jokingly told Jacqueline that they looked like a “walking jewel.” However, Aurelia frowned as Realm glared at Facet as the smile was wiped from his face. The pair then groaned in annoyance at their stylist's bland outfits.
Before the pair were then brought to the parade moments later, Facet and Jacqueline were immediately approached by Malona and Crane, both from 2 introducing themselves. However, Facet cut the pair off from further words, saying, “the career pack is gonna be different this year.” As Malona protested, Jacqueline said, ‘thanks but no thanks.” Both Jade Heath and Herminia Gold looked at the District 1 mentors in bewilderment as they also reciprocated. However, the pair from 1 then came over to the pair from 4 chatting with their mentor.
“Darling, you look stunning.”
“Oh, thank you, you dazzling ruby.”
Brook and Jacqueline seemed to obtain an instant connection. As Facet complemented Harbor’s outfit. Harbor smiled good-naturedly back before chatting away with him about lives in their districts. Facet soon asked the pair if they would be interested in an alliance in the arena; however, Sienna leaned in this conversation asking “Where are the 2s?”
Jacqueline then replied that they were “trying something new this year” before pointing at the pair making fun of Mateo from 10’s cow-themed parade outfit. Sienna shrugged as Brook and Harbor warmly accepted the offer as Facet and Jacqueline smiled saying “splendid see you soon.” When the pair from 1 got back, Realm popped up asking “You with the 4s this year.” As the pair nodded, Realm smiled and nodded with Quintin and Aurelia doing their touch-ups to their tributes' outfits. Sienna commended the pair for “making friends already,” she still urged caution before re-adding in “The 2 mentors there are my ride or dies but still keep your eyes on them if needed.”
The pair then nodded as the parade then began. Regal applause and cheers sounded for the pair from 1, but Nico Anderson lead editor of Anderson Fashion applauded for their strong impression but said the dress was “So Basic.” The pair from 4 were given a large amount of applause as Harbor and Brook waved at the audience even performing an old dance known as a “Jig”. The pair were also given a boatload of flowers and chocolate resulting in both Brook and Harbor sneezing uncontrollably at the end of the parade during President Mcaine's speech. Best dressed was ultimately awarded to the pair from 4 with their sailor-themed couture.
When the pair from 1 arrived back in their district apartment, they were glaring daggers from afar at Aurelia,
“How did it go.”
“How did it feel getting harshly criticized on live TV.”
Quintin shot Jacqueline a disapproving look as Realm asked if there other worthy allies. Both mentors were pleased hearing their success with the pair from 4 before Realm reassured them that they still looked “dazzling” before sending his tributes to bed. However, with the pair from 4, Sienna warmly embraced the two of her tributes on a best-dressed win. As Orville also joined in the group hug has the 4 of them partied till around 11:30 pm until Sienna sent her tributes to bed as she and Orville stayed up a while longer.
Bright and early the following morning, the mentors ushered their tributes to the training center with a very frustrated Apollo Price. Unfortunately, during his speech about the rules of the training center, he tasered Mateo from 10 after he tried to make a break for the door after Price’s speech concluded. Mateo’s mentor Bianca Jr Ramon rolled her eyes before dropping her mentee at the knife station.
The newly made career alliance between the District 1 and 4 tributes conquered most of the training stations with Facet and Harbor bonding over dropping and throwing large weights causing Fifi from 6 to wet herself earning a smirk from the boys. When Mateo awoke from his unconscious slumber, he immediately ran to Mateo asking him to spare. Since Mateo was no older than 14 and he was the youngest tribute the careers laughed before Facet told him to “Buzz off”. However, as Mateo continued to pester the career boys, Harbor gave Facet a knowing look before accepting Mateo’s sparing request.
A short crowd of tributes went to the jousting stations as Mateo and Harbor were briefed on the rules before being allowed to go at it. It was no surprise that Harbor won all 4 rounds.
“Easy”.
Harbor smiled warmly before being tackled to the ground by the 14-year-old boy from 10.
“You think you're better than me HA you rotten career boy.”
As Price Facet Brook and even Sienna tried to step in Harbor held his hand up to stay back. Harbor then threw the boy off him before pinching the nerve on Mateo’s neck knocking him clean out. As training master Price and Sienna looked at him in bewilderment before Price smiled saying
“Good job kid”.
Harbor smiled before Facet and he returned to the weight station and survival, knife and axe stations even giving advice to Amarylio from 7 with starting fires.
As for the girls they mainly gossiped to themselves and having “Girl talk” at the aquatic station sword station and archery stations. When any tribute tried to use the archery station both Jacqueline and Brook would melodicaly but fiercely slam there weapons into the targtes.
At the end of the traing head master price brought the tributes to the asscors room. Due to the request of the new head game maker the tributes assesment scores were kept strictly confidential. However tabloid reporters manage to scoop out that Jacqueline Facet Harbor and Malona from to managed to score at the top of the pack with a 11. Brook and Amarylio scored a 9 and at the bottom of the pack was Mateo and Hargree from 12 scoring a 3 each.
Both Sienna Quintin and Realm were beyond impressed with there tributes scores before they’re stylist sketched up potential outfits with there mentors soon quizing the pairs on interview educate.
Camilia Ravenstil welcomed the excited capital audience modeling a rather gothic dress that made her look like a ghost tree by the audience. The audience even laughed good naturedly as Camilia shook for a second as leaves fell of her costume as if wind had hit her. She then exictedly welcomed Jacqueline from 1. She was adorned in a stunning pink and red dress with her hair put up in braids. The two had some gossip before reavling to the audience that she was a decdent of Emarld Rivelta victor of the 34th hunher games. Camilia slapped her knee and laughed saying “Thats who you resmbl I guessed right I knew it!”
As the girls chatted the audience loved her regal responses to Camilas questions as even mentoning the carrer alliance brought the crowd into rapsous cheers,even when she talked about her allies from 4 openly. She then kissed Camilia on the hand before bowing which caused even more cheers before she was dismissed back stage. Facet was welcomed in next marveling a sleeveless pink suit with ruby jeans making many of the capital audience to swoon over his physeigue. Even Camilia was taken aback by his charm and confidence as he spoke about his training experience and the strength of his alliance with Jacqueline. His witty remarks and easygoing demeanor captivated the audience, earning him loud applause and admiration.
Later on into the night brook was welcomed in next with wild cheers and wolf whistles sounding. With her hair being dyed a pure yellow with a light brown dress resembling sand following her. She proceeded to have the same amount of banter with Camilia as Jacqueline did however Camilia cut her off as she was finshing up talking about her dads money saying “Honey this is the hunger games.”
“Yeah and Ill live how I like before the games.”
As a few jeers sounded the rest of her interview was rather dull the only light being Camilia shooing the “Regina George” of the stage. As Camila then called Harbor loud cheers sounded again as Harbor walked on to the stage with his curly black hair and brown eyes making him quite attrauctive to many even his pirate themed coustume became an over night sensation with many fashion designers stating that they wanted this fashionable suit.
As Camilia asked Harbor about the games becoming pleased with his short but sweet responses. Even cracking some good jokes about the other competitors mainly about Bloom from 7 and Mateo from 10 . To conclude Harbor’s inteviwed he tossed his waist coat to teh crowd as an excited gagle of captial ladies clammered for this waist coat. As his interview ended on a high. Finaly after the interview of the boy from 14 the new head game maker Natellia Swan was welcomed to the stage. Head game maker swan was adorned in a regal black gown also sporting garish make up making her resmble more of ghost then human. After introducing herself to the excited capital audience Camila smiled before shaking her hand saying that “Game maker swan has alot to accept from.” She laughed before giving hint out to teh audience by pointing to both of the laides dresses. Curious osund sof inteirgue soon followed as game maker swan smiled and bowed as she then left the stage as Camilia then ended the interviews there. The next morning tributes were given a breif breakefst before being brought to the arena’s holding room.
This years outfits consisted of black coats with black jeans and snakers with there distristicts nymbers stickered on the back of there coats. Realm visited Facet before reminding him to stick with Jacqueline and Harbor and Brook. However before Realm finished Facet replied “That girl Brook might be problem.” Realm nodded and agreed before reminding him to keep an eye on her before shaking his hand as he went into his tube. Jacqueline was visited by Quintin the pair had a similar conversation as Realm did with Facet before Jacqueline embraced Quintin and thanked him joking “District 1 needs more ladys.” Quintin laughed before hugging her back before walking Jacqueline to her tube. As for Brook she was not visited by Sienna nor Orvilve a fact that suprised her the most but shrugged before patiently puting her hair up in a bun and waiting for the tribute call to sound. As for Harbor Sienna visted him. She embacred Harbor before reminding him to “ Keep an eye on all of them.”
Harbor smiled before thanking Sienna for her mentor ship before Sienna walked Harbor to his tube his tube and at mid day the podiums then arose into the arena.
Arena Ghosty lake Game 114

I still think Curtis Mead will be an everyday MLB player. I think there is a 3+ WAR player who can provide 120+ wRC+ at 2nd base and a shade below average defense one day there (or maybe who knows with more playing time he is a little stretched at 2nd he would jsut have to be very fluid which is doubtful but still being optimistic). Statcast recently rolled out a series of new hitter centric metrics with in conjuction with past performance and metrics still paints a promising picture for Mead's future. There are some clear issues but also issues that can be addressed and given how smart of a hitter and his willingness to take instruction can be improved upon. Especially considering we are talking about a player that had a 129 wRC+ with sub 20% SO rate, 12.9% BB rate and a .208 ISO as a 21 year old in AAA to go with a 123 wRC+ 17.3% SO rate, a 12.6% wapk rate and a .221 ISO in AAA as a 22 year old (on top of the great numbers he out up in AA and A ball which in each stop he was underaged for including the past 2 years in AAA). Disclaimer will take a while to read hope those who do enjoy!
First and foremost Mead's calling card has always been his quick bat speed and his ability to impact the ball. Sometimes contact quality won't shine through poor decisions and poor contact but with the new bat speed metric we can readily and easily see bat speed. Mead's is the best on the Rays of players with 50+ at bats. The best by quite a bit in fact. 90th percentile in at 75.1, the next closest Rays player is Randy at 72.8 which is 66 percentile in baseball. The rate he swings the bat at 75+ MPH is also rather high tied with Vladdy Jr. at 52.4% which is 93rd percentile of the 360 batters to log 50+ ABs this year. The power is there and the quality of swing is also there as his swing length of 7.4 isn't fantastic but is pretty standard with many of the best hitters in baseball having similar lengths of swing. He is able to generate great bat speed in a rather compact swing. For reference 2 players that have very similar to Meads bat speed and swing length is Ely De La Cruz (75 MPH and 7.3 feet) and Austin Riley (75 MPH and 7.5 feet). His swing is there, and his Max EV and Avg Evs have kind of shown that this year. His Max EV of 112.2 is 88th percentile only 2nd to Yandy on the Rays, and his 89.3 avg EV is 56 percentile, and his EV50 is roughly in that same ball park. His batted ball metrics show progression and his swing is there so what gone wrong. It's simple, pitch identification and being caught in between a bit.
To explain prospects struggling with pitch ID at the MLB level you first have to understand the state of pitching in AAA. There are little to no high quality pitchers in AAA. The last time hitting prospects see high quality stuff is truly AA. That's generally where the rubber hits the road for prospects, if underage prospects hit well and don't take a step back at AA they are future big leaguers. Not saying there isn't stuff in AAA as there is, just not to the quality of the MLB, just a FO doesn't want to waste the bullets a pitcher has in AAA when he can use them in the MLB. There is still a measure of postives to a guy staying in AAA and fine tuning pitch ID. However the true finesse components of pitching isn't developed until a pitcher is older. Such as commanding sliders in the zone or perfecting changeups and splitters or even locating fastballs up and in. This is why every rookie for the past couple of years has really struggled with SO rates when first called up. Gunnar Henderson struggled heavily with SO intially, by July he stabilized and in my opinion that dude is destined for 6+ WAR seasons going forward and if he ever shift back to 3rd will challenge to lead MLB in WAR every year. Anthony Volpe was similar and looks like a perennial 3-4+ WAR player. Those questioning why Junior Caminero isn't up in the MLB need to understand this, the Rays have so much pressure built up in Junior's development that they won't take chances with him floundering at the MLB level and would rather see him improve his pitch ID in AAA as its his biggest flaw before throwing him to the wolves in the MLB. Sure some physical freaks can defy a poor SO rate but it's never good to bet on the exception to the rule.
So what does this mean for Curtis Mead? Well a myriad of things based on his MILB and MLB performances. Curtis Mead's biggest issue so far has been by far his chase percentages, which has helped fuel a below average whiff%. He has 3 holes in his swing which are in extremely common locations. Middle high is the worse by far generating a 63% whiff percentage. This isn't uncommon at all, Mike Trout famously struggled with it, Josh Lowe is completely anemic at hitting high pitches but is ultra agressive with low pitches and takes high pitches understanding he can't consistently get on top of them, only swinging when necessary. Outside of that up and in and low and in are the only in the zone areas where you see a 30+ whiff% with Mead. MILB pitching could never take full advantage of these wholes but MLB fastballs can and will until he establishes and approach to handle these pitches.
The most clear area he can improve is by laying off pitches high middle/in and pitches that are running low and away. Those low and away pitches are generally sliders and curveball from righties, changeups from lefties, and fastballs from both. That would improve his chase percentage and whiff% lowering SOs, increasing walk rate, and reducing the amount of weak contact generated at these locations. These things were never viewed as a concern in the minors and are mental components of the game that will continue to grow with more at bats. His SO rates in the minors support this as he always ran above average SO rates and walk percentages in the minors as well as superb contact percentages (ran 80+% contact rates in the minors ), while also barreling balls at a 16.4% rate. An approach similar to Josh Lowe's would make since, be agressive with lower pitches and lay off pitches with in high whiff rate areas. I'm sure when he is recalled he will have a different approach then we previously saw.
In the end of the day watching his at bats Curtis Mead always seemed in between on what he wanted to do, unsure of what the right choice would be. His barrel rate being so low kinda shows it. He isn't getting to the contact he reguarly go to in the past and is hestitant to really go up there and swing which was the most natural and easy component of the game for him. Minor tweaks to his approach could be a boon for him while steadily improving with at bats and age. Mental development doesn't stagnat until the late 20s and physically development doesn't until 24-25 for most. The physical tools to hit are there he jsut has to get the mental components of it all to mesh with the physical.
Curtis Mead's mental approach to hitting has always been great and his willingness to take instruction has been evident as he is very open to change and tweaking his approach. There was visble proof of this last year with changes to approach and stance. In the end this is a guy that had superb contact rates, excellent zone control, and plus power in the minors running .200+ ISO's through the minors. Considering the amount of chances afforded to Johnathan Aranda and other prospects I know Curtis Mead is far from out of the Rays future plans, but with the release of bat speed and other new metrics by baseball-savant (bat speed isnt the end all but shows there is a fast bat that can generste plus contact) there is new reasons to be optimistic going forward. There has been evidence to statistically support the idea of reset in the minors improving the mental components of prospects who's struggle in the majors, hopefully when he is recalled both the physical and mental components line up and we see poative progression. It takes players time, Austin Riley didn't look like a future stud his first couple of years, Bobby Witt struggled to get to hard contact his first year, Christian Walker took forever to deliver on his bat speed, the list of players stagnating and fialing off of rip is long particularly when they come up in their early 20s. Might not be this year, but eventually it's going to click for him and I hope the Rays still have him when it does.

i see you
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
^{can you hear the buzzing of the bees?
eternity is in their buzzing}
"What does this button do?" asked the being who strolled into the Room Of Buttons Not To Press If You Don't Know What The Fuck You're Doing - Tadpole's Warning Bedtime Tale - Leebaw
^{the one and the zero, the octal, the hexidecimal
exist in their buzzing like blood pumps through their wings
can you hear them?
your name is Dhruv}
Good judgment comes from experience.
Experience comes from bad judgment.
And I have very good judgement when I'm not on fire. - Unknown, Age of Reasonable Concerns
^{i see you
your name is Dhruv
but before that it was Dahlit 397721
do you remember why they named you Deshmuhk?
i do
to remember, we have to go back}
The dust swirled around, carried by the winds that roared through the mountain passes, howled in the valleys, and scoured the faces of the mountains. It was a thick gray dust, glittering here and there with plasma glass dust. Burnt out cars were covered by the dust, thickly caked after being rained on by thick, black rain.
A single building somehow sat intact amid the rubble and destruction. It was a low, squat building, surrounded by wreckage and ruin. A sign, blasted and scorched, had two jumping fish on it and the legend "Pop: 4,823" at the bottom even though the middle of the sign was gone.
The sound of drums and singing could be heard from the building. Not the driving frantic beat of modern music, but the steady cadence that carried with it a solemn feeling. The singing was from many different voices, male and female, but all of them in a language that time had nearly forgotten.
From out of the dust came figures. Two female, four male, and single figure that stood out from others.
Together, they moved toward the sound of singing, until the reached the door.
The leader, a large man of heavy muscle and bone, checked the doors with one hand, a large pistol in his hand.
"Barricaded," the large man said. He motioned. "We should check for any other entrances."
The older woman of brown skin and tightly braided hair moved forward.
"Allow me, brother," she said gently. She held her hand out, twitched her fingers, and smiled.
From inside came the sound of furniture scraping across the floor.
"Thank you," the large man said. He pushed open the doors, holding them for the others.
Inside was a curio shop slash tourist center slash museum. Buckskin and beaded works hung from the walls and ceiling. Glass cases containing ancient artifacts were scattered about, the glass shattered by the apocalypse that had rained down upon the world.
The drums played and the voices sang.
"It's a recording, Father," the slender brown skin man said, brushing the gray dust off of his clothing.
"Live voice," the largest of the men said. He lifted his head, cocking it slightly to listen closer with his right ear. "Young. Early twenties."
"If you say so," the thin man said. He looked around. "This is all devoted to a single person."
"Sometimes, people are that important to others, Dhruv," the older brown skin woman said softly, patting the slender man's arm. "Important to others as you are to us."
The slender man looked doubtful but nodded.
The youngest male of the group looked around, staring at the artifacts and relics scattered around. On his shoulder sat a green mantid wearing a food wrapper as a poncho.
"She's this way," the heavyset man said, leading them on a winding course through the shattered displays and racks.
In the back room, surrounded by artifacts, buckskins, and beaded works, sat a single young woman. Her eyes were white, blinded from the plasma flashes. Her skin was scarred from burns, her hair was only left in small patches. Her skin, beneath the ash and the scarring, was a rich bronze, her remaining hair was black.
She was singing along with the recording, swaying back and forth slightly.
^{there she is
remember her
remember remember}
The larger man knelt down, touching the young woman.
She did not react.
"She's dying," the man said, standing up. "Hunger, thirst, radiation poisoning, at least a half dozen infections," he heft the pistol. "There's nothing we can do for her. Low-vee Apers."
"Low-vee APERS" the pistol replied in a heavy synthesized voice.
"Stay thy hand, Phillip," the one who was markedly different said, his voice as gentle as his features formed of flowing blue and white computer code.
The large man lowered the pistol.
"She's dying," the large man repeated. "Radiation poisoning, starvation, a hard way to go."
"Will none of you speak for her?" the man of code asked gently.
Before any of the others could act, the slim bald man stepped forward. "I will," he said softly.
^{the first time you reached out
a frozen moment of time remembered
by the buzzing of the bees}
The man of code stepped forward, touching the hairless brow of the slender man, just above the missing eyebrows.
"I understand her words now," the slender man said. He moved up and knelt down. "I can heal her."
"Then do so, Luke," the man of code said.
The large man stepped back, a compartment opening on his thigh. He holstered the pistol, looking doubtful, and the compartment smoothly closed, leaving his leg unblemished.
"I need more genetic code," the slender man stated. He stood up, moving around, touching artifacts. "This. Here. An artifact recovered from a collector only a few years ago. It has genetic code attached."
He touched the artifact, then moved over to the woman, who was still swaying back and forth, singing, unaware of the others around her.
He knelt down, reached out carefully, and touched her forehead.
^{you reached out to another
helpless and alone
like you}
The woman threw her head back, her eyes opening wide, her mouth opening in a gasp. The white drained from her eyes, the scar tissue went soft and was replaced by unblemished skin. The blisters, sores, and scratches on her body vanished.
She collapsed forward, the slender man, Luke, catching her.
"Is she alright?" the youngest male asked, his voice full of honest concern.
"Exhausted," Luke said. He lowered his head slightly, sweat dripping from his bald scalp. "That was tiring."
The glittering man moved forward, kneeling down to touch the shoulders of both the woman and the bald man.
"Now you see in yourself what I saw in you," he said.
^{remember
remember
even the smallest can shake the universe
remember}
Sirens were howling in the bay as Jaskel wriggled, trying to break free of whatever was holding him upside down in mid-air. He'd already dropped his chainsword, his pistol had fallen from his equipment belt.
The two stood in the middle of the deployment area for Clone War Bay Sixteen, the male's arm protectively around the shoulders of the female, who wore only the cloak.
"I..." the word hung in the air.
It seemed like the entire universe held its breath to Jaskel.
"...am Legion."
The Admiral grabbed his pistol, rolling in place, firing it as fast as he could pull the trigger.
The rounds exploded on the glowing blue shield that only appeared around the impact points, showering sparks across the bay.
The bald figure made a motion and the pistol flew into pieces, the Admiral yanked into the air upside down.
"Gimme missiles," Jaskel grated from between gritted teeth.
--legion legion legion-- 8814 transmitted. --wait don't wait--
The woman spoke, her cadence stately and almost archaic feeling.
The man spoke back to her in the same language.
More troops ran into the bay, even as the windows overlooking the bay shattered. Weapons deployed, pointing at the pair.
The slender man, without looking, motioned.
Guns flew away, breaking apart, rapidly disassembling. Power armored troops were flung into the air, to hang upside down. Captain N'Skrek found himself upside down, scrabbling for purchase on this air.
The woman spoke to the man. He spoke back.
Finally, he turned, facing the troops hanging in mid-air.
The woman spoke.
"My sister apologies for my rude actions," the man said. "I am merely ensuring her safety."
She spoke some more.
"She has been gone for many years," the man said. He looked around. "My sister, a Biological Apostle of the Digital Omnimessiah, pleads with you to lower your weapons and stay your hands."
The tension was so thick it almost made Jaskel gag.
Finally, the Captain put the tip of a bladearm against his temple.
"Stand down," he said, Jaskel hearing it through his armor's commo system. "All hands, stand down."
There was silence for a moment, only broken by the background humming of the ship's systems.
The woman spoke.
The man faced the Captain.
"She will go with you, to answer questions, on the stipulation that I accompany her and that no man's hand is raised against me without cause," he said.
The Captain nodded.
Jaskel felt relief as he was flipped over and set on his feet.
--luke luke luke is here--
999999
Captain N'Skrek ducked slightly to fit through the doorway into the Captain's Briefing Room Six.
Sitting at one end was the woman, now clothed in what his implant assured him was treated deer hide leather, with tassels and beads upon it. The man was wearing a uniform that made his implant twitch and his nerves draw tight.
A Terran Combined Military Authority uniform.
His staff filed in behind him and took their seats once he sat down.
"I'm Captain N'Skrek, currently assigned to the Gray Lady on autonomous assignment," N'Skrek said.
"You heard me," the slim bald man said. He gave a grin. "You may also know me as Vat Grown Luke or Dhruv Deshmuhk."
The woman spoke and he shook his head. "Yes, sister, I know, Deshmuhk is my slave name. I wear it for revenge."
The woman spoke again, her tone slightly chiding.
"Like they say, the best revenge is living well, sister," the man said, still smiling.
Again, the woman spoke.
N'Skrek noticed that his implant was absolutely no help in deciphering the woman's speech.
"I know that doing things like that and saying things like that is exactly why Daxin always told me people wanted to punch me in the face," the man laughed.
He turned back to Captain N'Skrek.
"My apologies. My sister refuses to speak anything but her people's ancient tongue," his eyes gleamed with mischief. "She is slightly put out with me for answering in Confederate Standard, since now you know that she understands perfectly what you are saying."
N'Skrek nodded. Vat Grown Luke had given up a valuable piece of information in what was sure to be delicate negotiations.
"And what should we call your sister?" N'Skrek asked.
Vat Grown Luke smiled. "Tsakáka Wia, but it would probably be easier for you to use the more common name," he said.
The woman spoke sternly.
"What? It's your commonly known name?" he said, smiling.
The woman's face grew stern and she spoke rapidly.
"The first lesson we learn, sister mine, is that we must bend the knee to reality," Luke said gently. "That name has no power, only a few of us remember it."
^{i remember
the bees remember
can't you hear it in their buzzing?}
The woman spoke again, her expression softening.
Luke turned back to the gathered officers. "Her name, as you would know it, is Sacajawea."
N'Skrek consulted his implant.
And felt fear chill his icon. He looked at his staff and saw that a lot of them looked sick.
"That's right. We are real, and he was real," Luke said. He leaned forward slightly. "He was real both times."
N'Skrek stayed relaxed and calm, at least outwardly.
"I am willing to accept, at this time, that the Biological Apostles and the Digital Omnimessiah were and are real," N'Skrek said.
"Just be glad Dax isn't here. He's not as even tempered as I am," Luke said.
Sacajawea spoke again and Luke laughed. He looked at Captain N'Skrek. "She was just reminding me of the time Daxin completely lost his cool and went to town with his cutting bar on a Countess Crey Bingo Cola vending machine that ate his money then mocked him for it."
"He was known as Enraged Phillip," N'Skrek said.
Sacajawea spoke for a moment and Legion laughed, then turned to N'Skrek.
"Yes."
N'Skrek hated that. When a person spoke at length and the translator just replied with a single word.
"Why are you here?" N'Skrek asked.
Legion smiled. "You have forgotten important things, Captain. You, and the entire Confederacy have forgotten some very important things."
"Like what?" N'Skrek asked.
"If you print enough identical clones, I am reborn through them," Legion smiled. "But that's not the big part. The big one is the one that the Mar-gite's masters either forgot or never learned."
"What is that?" N'Skrek asked.
Legion smiled widely.
"What fear tastes like."
^{your name is dhruv}
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]

Sorry for the lack of photos, but this one is easy to follow since the repair was so simple. This should be the same for all of the blue headphones with an internal amp
The blue ella has been discontinued, so it's selling for about $110 on amazon, down from its $700 MSRP. If anyone saw my review, I think they're easily the best closed backs under $200 by a country mile right now, with the ability to be used without the internal amp, with it to just cleanly amplify a weak source (amazing for my miyoo mini which has a stupidly weak amp) or with an "analogue" EQ mode that bumps the sub bass and warms it up a bit. I've been using them and adoring them, they're superb gaming cans. HOWEVER, I noticed the amplifier battery was lasting an absolutely wretchedly short amount of time, like 45 minutes. Turns out a battery powered device sitting in a box for like 7 years means the battery isn't gonna be very happy.
However, the repair was dirt cheap and super, SUPER easy. The battery is a very standard 3.7v, 1000mAh unit with the standard charging PCB covered in capton take inside the right earcup. I ordered a replacement one off amazon for $9 along with a $4 roll of double sided electrical tape. The replacement battery is 5x34x50mm, but the original is about 4x36x60 with another 1mm thickness of double sided adhesive foam. But the new battery fits just fine with some double sided tape that isn't 1mm (I used 1mm tape and it was a hair thick, but still worked. regular double sided tape is ideal) and the repair was a snap, only requiring a spudger or something to gently pry the earcup off (a butter knife would work) a t5 torx bit, and two little dots with a soldering iron (you should also get some solder and a little flux, some isopropyl alcohol and a Q tip to clean up the flux) and a pair of pliers or flush cuts to snip the connector off the replacement battery and strip back some wire. A pair of tweezers would be helpful too.
Firstly, remove the earcups (do both sides since it's easy and makes accessing the rest much easier) by gently placing the spudger or device between the brown of the earcup pad and the black plastic trim, and prying until it pops, then just work around, they'll pop right off. The bezel is very sturdy but be mindful of not nicking the pleather cups, they are glued to the frames and replacement pads are only really available through a custom pad maker like Vesper.
Now all we need to work on is the right side. Unscrew the 6 long T5 torx screws holding the driver and its bezel in place. The two short t5 screws just hold the bezel to the driver and can be left in place - removing them makes the whole thing a bit more unwieldy. The driver and bezel come right off, there's no adhesive. Don't lose the foam pad that goes between the driver and the rest of the earcup. Now remove the 2 t5 screws on the little cross brace that holds the battery down and set it aside.
Now we can remove the old battery - Safety dictates that you desolder the battery first - just follow the super obvious two wires to the board, make note or take a picture of which is red and which is black, and desolder them. The solder joints on mine were quite aged, so a touch of flux and fresh solder was necessary, but this is about as easy as soldering work gets. Once the battery is desoldered, use your spudger or pry tool to gently pry on the sides of the battery to release the adhesive. it's not super strong adhesive and mine came free with minimal effort.
Now place some double sided tape on the replacement battery and put the replacement battery in its place. the little battery "tray" makes lining it up easy. Align it the same way the old battery was, with just tape on one side. My new battery had a JST connector, so I snipped it off and stripped the wires back about 2mm. Tin your wires by touching them with some flux and fresh solder. Then I used some tweezers to hold the wire down while I soldered them in. Wipe up any excess flux with a little isopropyl alcohol on a Q-tip, make sure the solder didn't bridge between the positive and negative, and put it back together! Don't forget the little cross brace that clamps the battery down first, then orient the foam/drivebezel pack in place and screw it down. Pop the ear cups back on by pressing down on their very outside edge to make 'em clip into place. Charge it up and enjoy!
(one piece of advice when screwing screws back into plastic - when you put the screw into the hole, first turn it backwards until you feel a little bump or click, and THEN drive it in. This prevents cross-threading and accidentally chewing up the threads. And be mindful of not over-tightening. They aren't going to come loose on their own very easily, plastic is a lot grippier than screwing metal into metal, so you don't need to torque anything down.)
If your amp switch ever starts to get wonky, I also discovered in my disassembly adventure that the knob just engages with a regular slider switch like a gameboy uses. You can just touch some contact cleaner in that switch if it ever gets weird.
Overall, I was really impressed at how easy they are to repair and how pleasantly standard the battery is. I was worried that maybe I'd only ever just use them unamplified (which isn't too hard, as I understand they're fostex T50 drivers) but for maybe... 15 minutes of work start to finish, they're as good as new.
Now I just need to see how long these vinyl pads last before I have to get vesper audio to make me some proper leather replacements. I hate pleather.

Lifting the title from this older article.
​
I found out about it from this facebook post from Northeast Ohio Craft Brewery News.
Copying their text below:

As the craft beer market continues to mature, new breweries that open, and even existing ones, will need to find ways to differentiate and become destinations in and of themselves. Good beer and good food is no longer just enough. Years ago when I was home brewing more I kicked the tires on someday opening my own. For just a minute. I live out in southeastern Portage County and often thought, why has no one ever opened a brewery on a campground — some place you could make a day of visiting, stay as long as you want, enjoy the beers and atmosphere, and not have to worry about getting yourself home safely.
Enter Camp Brewing, a five week old brewery in Huntsville, Ohio, a town of 408 (at the 2020 census) in Logan County Ohio, minutes from Indian Lake. Yup, it’s a brewery... on a Campground (Indian Lake Adventures Campground, to be precise). According to their website, you can “ROLL in with your RV, reserve a tiny home or 20 person penthouse, ‘rough it’ in a tent, or come in off the street to enjoy our massive taproom set on our beautiful 29 acre campground. “Over night kits for last minute lodging always available to keep our campers happy and safe. If you stay at CAMP- we make it easy to relax with us, as you can just scan your QR code, place your order, and WE'LL DELIVER BEER AND PIZZA TO YOUR CAMP SITE! “Campground guests will have FULL ACCESS to amenities, such as our heated indoor salt water pool, on-site dog park, volleyball court, and events/ entertainment- all within walking or golf-cart distance of the taproom.”

​

Living in a small southern town, you get used to the way things are. I grew up as a military brat, so my childhood memories are a blur of packing, unpacking, and getting settled. It had been seven years since we arrived, and nothing but the grace of God would make me move again. A few years ago, my father got orders to station at a base in the middle of the Mohave. I was only seventeen then, but after a few dozen screaming matches, I decided to strike out on my own a little early. I got a part-time job at the cafe, which was enough to rent a little run-down shack a couple of blocks from downtown. As far as I was concerned, I was living the dream—serving coffee a few hours a week and spending the rest of my time hanging out with friends, listening to music, and drinking.
That particular morning started the same as any other. I woke up around noon with a text from Mark to meet me at the cafe. Took me about two hours to get up and head over. The sun had just begun its descent as I pushed the door to the cafe open, the bell above tinkling softly. The sound bothered me a little bit, but I couldn’t tell why. It seemed to ring a little louder than I was expecting, and gave me this strange drilling sensation inside my head.
I ignored the feeling as the smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries washed over me. I saw Mark and Jamie already sat at our usual spot. Mark looked up as I approached, a grin spreading across his face. "Hey, Alex. Sarah should be here soon."
“So what's on the docket today?” I asked as I sat down, stealing a bear claw off Jamie's plate and taking a large bite before he had the chance to protest.
Mark’s excitement was almost palpable. He was always the one with the big ideas and crazy schemes, which I honestly appreciated. They got us into trouble more often than not, but it beat day drinking in the Walmart parking lot like everyone else our age.
"Alright, check this out," Mark said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I was talking to my cousin who works for the county. He told me about this old, abandoned food processing factory just outside of town. They used to can peaches there."
I gave him a skeptical look. "That’s your idea? Old, canned peaches?"
"No, idiot," he scoffed. "They left behind a ton of nitrates and phosphates. I’ve been doing some reading, and we can use them to make fireworks. I was up all night figuring it out and putting these together." He subtly opened his backpack to reveal at least a dozen PVC pipes fitted on both ends.
"Now that's what I’m talking about," I said, grinning.
Sarah walked in, catching the tail end of our conversation. "Sorry I’m late, I had a breakout and had to stop by the pharmacy. Upped my allergy meds. I fucking hate pollen," she said as I scooted over to make room for her on the bench.
"Is there anything you aren't allergic to?" I laughed.
She rolled her eyes, ignoring my question. "So, what's the plan for today?"
Mark, Jamie and I exchanged cheeky glances. "Well," I started, "let’s just hope you’re not allergic to peaches."
We finally managed to pry the side door of the factory off, which broke free from the hinges and smashed against the floor. Stepping inside, the air was thick and rancid as we bounced the beams of our flashlights around the packaging floor.
"We should split up," Mark suggested. "Alex, you and Sarah check out the storage rooms for the chemicals. Jamie and I will find the control room and see if we can get the power back on."
All of us nodded as we went our separate ways. Sarah and I wandered down the dark hallways, kicking open doors and looking for anything that looked vaguely like chemicals. The corridors were dark and damp, with black mold snaking along the walls like veins.
The first few rooms we checked were empty, filled only with dust and the remnants of long-abandoned equipment. Each door creaked as we pushed it open, revealing more decay and desolation.
As we moved further down the hallway, the mold seemed to become more aggressive, spreading in thick, dark patches along the walls and floors. The air grew heavier, making it harder to breathe. We kicked open another door, our flashlights revealing more of the same—nothing useful.
"This place is a bust," Sarah muttered,
"Let's keep looking," I replied, though I was starting to feel the same way. "There has to be something."
We continued down the corridor, our footsteps echoing in the silence. As we approached the end of the hall, something caught my eye. One door stood out, covered in black, creeping mold that seemed to pulse and writhe. Tendrils of fungus snaked out from the edges, reaching out into the hallway.
"Sarah, look at this," I said.
She turned to see what I was pointing at and her eyes widened. "That’s... different."
We approached the door cautiously as the tendrils moved and swayed.
With a deep breath, we each grabbed one side of the door and pulled. It resisted for a moment before giving way, the mold snapping and tearing as we forced it open. The smell that hit us was overpowering, a mix of rot and decay that made my eyes water.
Inside, our flashlights revealed a horrifying sight. At the back of the room sat several pallets with dozens of boxes of peaches each. But it was what grew from these boxes that will haunt my nightmares till my dying day.
The entire back wall was consumed by a towering fungal mass. Thick, fleshy stalks jutted out from the base, climbing nearly to the ceiling. The surface of the fungus glistened with a slimy, wet sheen, appearing almost like rotting flesh under our flashlight beams. Each stalk was covered in a mottled, sickly green and yellow hue, with patches of black mold that seemed to pulse in the dim light.
Interwoven within this horrific sight were bulbous growths, each one throbbing rhythmically, as if with a heartbeat of its own. They resembled obscene, overgrown tumors, ready to burst at the slightest touch. Long, sinewy tendrils extended from the main mass, creeping over the boxes and along the floor like the fingers of some malevolent creature, seeking out any life to ensnare.
The tendrils near the door twitched, slowly inching their way toward us as if aware of our presence. The air was thick with spores, glimmering in the light like tiny stars, each one a potential harbinger of decay and death.
"Oh my god," Sarah whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of our own breathing. "What is that thing?"
We stood there, frozen in shock and disgust, before I slammed the door shut.
"Let's get the hell out of here," I said.
We hurried back down the corridor, our footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. The lights in the facility flickered on, casting a blinding white light. I heard a bubbling, groaning noise emanate from behind the fungal door, sending a wave of nausea through my body.
We met back up with Mark and Jamie in the main area and quickly told them what we saw.
"Yo, that sounds sick," Jamie exclaimed. "We should blow it up. I found the chemicals in the control room and these bad boys are ready to go," he said, holding up a pipe bomb.
"Yeah," Mark agreed, his eyes alight with excitement. "We'd be doing the world a favor, getting rid of that thing."
Sarah shook her head, her face pale. "No way. I'm not doing this. That thing... It's not normal. We need to get out of here and call someone who knows what they're doing."
Jamie frowned. "Come on, Sarah. Don't be a buzzkill. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to do something epic."
"Epic?" Sarah snapped. "That thing is dangerous. We don't know what we're dealing with. I'm not risking my life for some stupid joke."
Mark stepped in with a grin. "Alright, let's all calm down. If you’re scared you can just let the men handle it.”
Sarah crossed her arms. "Fine, but I'm staying here."
"Suit yourself," Jamie said, shrugging. "But we're not leaving without taking care of that thing."
"Alright, let's do this," Mark said, looking at Jamie and me. "We'll be quick. Sarah, stay here and keep an eye out.”
The hallway looked completely different in the fluorescent lighting. I could see now that each vein of fungus emanated from that single door, like a spiral portal threatening to suck us in.
"Let's make this quick," I whispered, glancing back at Jamie and Mark. "We light the bomb, throw it in, and get the hell out of here."
Jamie nodded, holding the pipe bomb tightly in his hand. "Ready when you are."
We reached the door, and the tendrils of fungus seemed even more aggressive, writhing and pulsing as if aware of our presence. The air was thick with spores.
"On three," I whispered, gripping the edge of the door. "One... two... three."
We yanked the door open, the mold snapping and tearing as it gave way. The smell of rot and decay hit us again, making my eyes water. The monstrous fungal mass loomed before us, its bulbous growths throbbing rhythmically.
Jamie lit the fuse and threw the bomb as hard as he could inside. It struck one of the orbs, which burst, shooting a fine white mist into the air.
"Run!" I shouted, slamming the door shut. We turned and sprinted down the hallway. The explosion sounded behind us, the shockwave lifting me off my feet and sending me tumbling to the ground.
Living in a small southern town, you get used to the way things are. My parents were in the army, so we moved a lot, but now I'm staying put. I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a small headache.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a doughnut off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“Y-yeah,” she replied. “Are YOU guys feeling ok?”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “Yeah, we’re fine,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a small migraine.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a maroon off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“Y-yeah,” she replied. “Not really. Are YOU guys feeling Ok?”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “Yeah, we’re fine,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a piercing migraine.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a bagel off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“What's going on?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m scared.”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “It’s fine, Sarah. Just take a seat,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a splitting migraine.
As I slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie, I noticed Sarah outside, fixated on a bird suspended in mid-flight. I went out to see her.
"Are you seeing this?" she asked, her voice tinged with astonishment.
"Yeah," I replied nonchalantly. "That happens all the time. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
"What the hell do you mean, 'Am I feeling okay?'!" she screamed. "That bird is frozen mid-air, and you don't think anything weird is going on?"
Her yelling took me aback. I didn't understand her alarm, so I shrugged it off and joined Mark inside. As we began planning our nightly excursion to the peach factory, Sarah burst through the door, screaming, then vanished in a puff of smoke.
"That's odd," I mused, my brow furrowed in confusion before we shrugged it off and resumed our scheming.
The day after, I met Mark again at the cafe. This rhythm had become our existence: meetings by day, adventures by night at the old peach plant. That evening followed the familiar pattern; we reveled in the thrill of hurling pipe bombs into that small enclosed room.
This routine had completely engulfed our lives. Day after day at the cafe, night after night at the factory—it seemed as though this cycle was all we had ever known. Reflecting on it, I couldn't remember any other way of life.
However, one thing increasingly disturbed me—the ringing of the doorbell at the cafe's entrance. Each time I entered, the sound seemed sharper, more grating. Focusing on it brought a searing pain to my head, like a needle drilling through my skull. Yet, despite the agony, I found myself obsessing over it, the sound gnawing at the edges of my sanity.
One day, driven to the brink by this incessant ringing, I decided to confront it head-on. I stood by the door, letting the bell chime repeatedly. Each ring sliced through my mind, but I persisted, sweat beading on my forehead, teeth clenched in torment.
As the pain crescendoed, reality shattered. I woke to the blaring of a fire alarm, not the quaint doorbell I had imagined. The cafe was engulfed in chaos. The hallway was consumed by a sprawling fungal mass, its tendrils creeping along the walls.
In the dim, flickering light, I saw Jamie, or what was left of him. Half of his skull was missing, the fungus attached grotesquely to his exposed brain, pulsating with each eerie beat of his fading heart. Mark was there too, seemingly unharmed physically, but trapped in a delusion, his eyes glazed over, a smile playing on his lips as the fungus encased him.
Sarah lay collapsed by the fire alarm, her hand still on the lever. She had managed to pull it before succumbing to the spores that now clung to her body.
The tendrils that had enveloped me snapped violently, each break releasing a sickening crack that echoed through the eerie silence of the hallway. An outline of my body remained imprinted in the fungal mass, a mold from which I had desperately broken free.
Gritting my teeth against the pain and horror, I scrambled to Mark and Sarah. Mark was less entangled, lost in his fungal-induced stupor. I grabbed him under the arms, his body limp but alive, and dragged him across the floor. The fungus resisted, stretching like sinew before tearing away from him with wet, ripping sounds.
Sarah was heavier, her body weakened but still fighting. I clasped her wrists, pulling with all my strength. The fungus clung to her, tendrils winding up her arms like ivy. With a final, determined yank, the last of the tendrils snapped, freeing her. We left behind fragments of the monstrous growth clinging to her clothes.
Together, we staggered out into the night air, away from the suffocating enclosure. The cool air hit our faces, harsh yet cleansing. Behind us, the fire alarm continued to blare into the night. I fumbled with my phone, hands shaking, to dial the emergency number. The call went through, and within minutes, the sound of sirens cut through the stillness of the night, growing louder as help approached.
The next few days were a blur. I remember fading in and out of consciousness as nurses pumped antifungals directly into my IV, their faces blurring into the sterile environment. Once we were somewhat cognizant, the police wanted answers. One by one, we were interviewed, but we gave them nothing. I still don’t know what the exact penalty is for manufacturing explosives and using them to destroy a building, but I’m guessing it’s not community service. Jamie was still missing, and they hadn’t found any sign of him or his body. I tried to hide my tears as I knew he was already long gone.
After a few weeks, I was finally cleared for visitors and got to see Sarah again. She told me that after the explosion, she ran but couldn’t leave us behind. She came back, only to see us being consumed by the fungus. Try as she might, she wasn’t able to free us as she felt the oppressive spores take her under. She fought back and managed to pull the fire alarm before succumbing again. The doctors told her that her allergy medication gave her some resistance to the fungus; otherwise, she might have been a goner.
Mark was never the same. We never talked about what happened, and after trying once and him flipping out, I figured it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. That summer, he moved to upstate New York to work in his dad’s business. I haven’t seen him since. That fall, Sarah started college at Savannah State. I still call her every now and again, but it’s not like it used to be.
Despite all that happened, I’m not moving again. I’m happy here, and if it’s up to me, I’ll die in this little town. I still work at the cafe, as a manager now. On weekends, I come in and just sit at the booth we all used to share.
I still think about Jamie from time to time. I wonder if he's dead or still stuck in his delusion, picturing the four of us sitting at our table, talking, laughing, and passing the time. Sometimes, when the cafe is empty and the light is just right, I can almost see him there, his smile frozen in that moment before everything went wrong.
The cafe grows quieter each day, the hum of life fading into an eerie stillness. My skin feels different, as if the air itself whispers secrets I can't quite grasp. The itching that started as a minor annoyance has intensified, becoming a constant torment. I scratch at lesions that have begun to form on my arms and chest, red and raw, with patches of green spreading beneath the surface. I’ve started to wear long sleeves to cover my arms and a mask to hide my purpling lips.
Some nights, when closing, as I sit alone in the dim light of the cafe, the itching becomes unbearable. I claw at the lesions, feeling a dampness beneath my skin. Sometimes, when I cough, I could swear I see tiny spores hanging in the air, reminiscent of the bursting nodules growing on the stalks of the monster.
Occasionally, I hear the bell ring and the door open, but no one is there. I look outside into the empty night and see nothing. This went on for weeks, becoming more frequent. But one night, the door opened, and I saw Jamie standing there, the picture of health. I went to embrace him and noticed my lesions were gone too. It was almost as if we had never gone to the peach factory. It was suddenly morning, and the light shone through the cafe. For the first time in forever, we were happy. We talked about nothing, passing the time.
After what felt like hours, he told me it was time to go. But his mouth wasn’t moving—I felt like I could read his thoughts, and he could read mine. We stood up as I took one last look at the cafe and headed off with him, back to the peach factory.
As we walked, a strange calmness settled over me. I remember feeling that I wanted to ask if he had talked to Mark or Sarah, and wondered how they were doing. But deep down, somehow, I could feel their presence and I knew they were doing just fine. The sun was bright, the air crisp. The itching had vanished completely, replaced by an inexplicable craving for the sweetness of ripe peaches. Jamie and I shared a silent understanding, a bond deeper than any words could convey.
The factory loomed ahead, its doors wide open as if inviting us in. The familiar scent of peaches and something else—something earthy and ancient—filled the air. We stepped inside, side by side, feeling at home for the first time in ages.
The last thing I remember before the darkness took over was the feeling of the soft, warm peach flesh in my hand, and Jamie’s voice in my head saying, "Welcome home."

Before going into it, I want to mention how this post was inspired by three things. One was user u/HastyvonFuego2 and their post on going down the rabbit hole on the Kendrick sub last week. It was also inspired by Childish Gambino’s first album release in nearly 6 years where I have been sitting on this idea for a while but he inspired me to finally post this week like he did (never posted on Reddit at all before so be gentle if I am not doing it right)! I was also inspired by an interview Bino gave to GQ about breaking down his most iconic characters. In this interview he says how This is America started out as a Drake diss but then he realized the song was too hard for just Drake so he kept working on it. He also talks in this interview about how all culture is about compression. Which means that yes, This is America is about the gun violence and police issues in America, but compressed in this video is also more about where that culture comes from which he shows is from a small handful of rap moguls, namely Drake, Diddy and Jay-Z (bear with me on this long post, I think/hope it will be worth it). At the end I talk briefly about how Little Foot Big Foot might be in this same vein of cultural compression.
[Intro: Choir]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, go, go away
The beginning of this song has no background music yet, which really gives it an ‘in the beginning’ feel. Then Gambino starts doing his dances with weird facial expressions. I will explain as we go through his video how those expressions and dance moves represent different famous rap moguls. One easy look to pick out right away is Jay-Z’s famous lip curl/growl look that Gambino gives with a head nod repeatedly. The colonial pants have been a hot topic, but since it’s only the pants that are colonial, Gambino is saying the bottom or basis for this violent culture in America is ultimately colonialism. The lyrics ‘Go Away’, are likely foreshadowing the rap moguls wanting other popular rap rivals to ‘go away’ or they will make them (aka murder them) for profit.
[Bridge: Childish Gambino & Young Thug]
We just wanna party
Party just for you
We just want the money
Money just for you (Yeah)
Usually you want money for yourself and to party for yourself, so this is a bit odd. But what Gambino is referring to is similar to these Diddy ‘freakoff parties’ we are hearing about where people who want to be famous are really partying for these rap moguls so they can get close to them. Where they suck up to them saying that they want to earn the mogul money from their songs.
I know you wanna party
Party just for free
Girl, you got me dancin' (Girl, you got me dancin')
Dance and shake the frame (Yeah)
Then this almost feels like the Diddy rebuttal where he’s like ya I know you want to party and you want to do it for free. Like Katt Williams says, “you gotta tell Diddy no”, it is never free to go to those parties. There are always consequences. When you are partying you are dancing, but shaking the frame could refer to how those boundaries/edges are being crossed, lines are blurred, etc.
Then in the video, the fellow who was playing the guitar gets shot and things turn dark from happy music. I believe that this guitar tune is meant to represent 2Pac and Nas’s song Thugz Mansion. It’s one of the original greats from ‘in the beginning’. Nas famously has always had major issues with Jay-Z too (More on why 2Pac and Nas later). It also represents how it was these moguls who murdered 2Pac like Jaguar Wright and Katt Williams keep saying. Where these murders only lead to more money and fame for the killers when the dead artists’ and their music are exploited more easily.
Also note that the gun gets taken away by a school kid after the shooting, more on this later as well.
[Verse 1: Childish Gambino, Young Thug, Blocboy JB & 21 Savage]
This is America (Skrrt, skrrt, woo)
Don't catch you slippin' now (Ayy)
Look how I'm livin' now
Police be trippin' now (Woo)
Yeah, this is America (Woo, ayy)
Guns in my area (Word, my area)
There is a song called Guns in My Area by Lil Weiner and Baby Chapox that paints a vivid picture of the everyday struggles and conflicts faced by those living in communities affected by gun violence. More compression of other songs and the American gun culture.
I got the strap (Ayy, ayy)
I gotta carry 'em
I am almost certain this line is referring to 2Pac’s song Changes. Throughout This is America, Gambino takes lines from Pac’s song: “They get jealous when they see you with your mobile phone” (referred to later in this a Celly, that’s tool) “That's the sound of my tool, you say it ain't cool, My mama didn't raise no fool”
“And as long as I stay black, I gotta stay strapped, And I never get to lay back” It seems like Gambino broke up these lyrics and scattered them throughout his song. This plays into the theme that everyone is using 2Pac and enriching themselves off of his image and music. I show below how this particular section of the video represents Diddy meaning that Diddy himself is exploiting his music (and alleging that Diddy killed Pac?). We could see this exploitation play out at length with how much Diddy milked the death of Biggie like in Every Breath You Take.
Yeah, yeah, I'ma go into this (Ugh)
Yeah, yeah, this is guerilla (Woo)
Yeah, yeah, I'ma go get the bag
The song Gorilla War by $uicideboy$ and Ramirez talks about getting a bag repeatedly in the course. Also in Otis with Kanye and Jay-Z their lyrics talk about going gorilla (I talk about this song more further down), so it could be referring to this as well. It seems like Gambino is trying to pull out lyrics from all across the rap culture and embed them in his song to highlight the ‘cultural compression’.
Yeah, yeah, I'm so cold like, yeah (Yeah)
I'm so dope like, yeah (Woo)
We gon' blow like, yeah (Straight up, uh)
I think that all of the school kids in the video represent all of the rappers that are signed with these big labels. Which is interesting because they are the ones facilitating the guns for the moguls in the video. You can see that the mogul is really focused on the kids and gets agitated and directs them to follow him whenever they stray off a bit like they are his pupils, or like he owns them. Then all of a sudden the camera comes into a scene where you can see more kids shooting a rap video and all shooting money from a Supreme gun. The camera zooms out almost to show you that this is the mogul’s whole rap empire they are looking over, all of their kids in one place (this empire already includes some chaos in the background). It’s subtle but hilarious, Gambino puts fricken chickens on the ground where the kids are filming the rap video. He is directly calling all of these rappers complete chickens for playing up this lifestyle and being the cause of so much chaos rather than coming out and telling somebody what’s really going on. Trying to get their money over everything else.
[Refrain: Choir & Childish Gambino]
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, tell somebody
You go tell somebody
Grandma told me
Get your money, Black man (Get your— Black man)
This is where things start to get interesting. Gambino is literally saying, go tell somebody about this! We all know what’s happening, why don’t you go let people know how bad it is? But like Jaguar Wright said, who do you tell when these moguls have the cops and feds paid off? This video is literally Gambino putting it all out there in this extremely popular song for everyone to see but yet we still just see the dancing and the violent chaos of people and police in the streets and not the root cause that is hidden in plain sight.
The vast majority of those who reviewed this video until now think this scene represents the tragic church shooting in Charleston in 2015. I think it does, but we also have to look at this from an angle of compression.
The people in the choir are all of the people who are currently singing the rap mogul’s praises and who are focused on going and getting what’s owed to them, get their money (who are also profiting off of the dead fellows music since it goes back to the original tune). You can see that each choir member has a distinct look to them. Think about who you are hearing about now who is about to be implicated in these freak offs and evil deeds. Is that Will Smith in the back left corner!? The short bald fellow in the front left maybe Kevin Hart? Rick Ross or TD Jakes maybe the bigger guy towards the back right? When the camera zooms in on the choir right at first to show their faces, doesn’t the guy in the bottom middle look like an uncanny version of Jordan Peele? Or is that meant to be Cuba Gooding Jr? Then just like the guitar fellow at the beginning, bang. You may be singing Diddy’s praises now, but he will cut you down whenever he suddenly feels like it.
I think almost for sure this initial section of the music video is Gambino acting as Diddy, because right after he shoots the choir, he does the elbow pump/chicken dance. At 3:14 in Diddy’s video for P.E. 2000 he does the chicken dance (he is up first in the video and I think Gambino is trying to say here I first present to you the first public enemy of 3 in this song). That elbow dance signals that it was Diddy and this is the end of his section.
[Chorus: Childish Gambino, Young Thug, Slim Jxmmi & Quavo]
This is America (Woo, ayy)
Don't catch you slippin' now (Woo, woo, don't catch you slippin' now)
Don't catch you slippin' now (Ayy, woah)
Look what I'm whippin' now (Slime!)
There have been many accounts of celebrities being given fancy cars after suffering abuse at the hands of these moguls. So these lyrics are saying that you better not slip up and tell people what’s really going on. And if you don’t look at this sweet carecord deal/movie contract I am going to give you. Beiber told this story about Diddy wanting to give him a luxury car.
Now suddenly, the dance switches from the chicken dance to a sudden bicep flex to signal us that we have now moved on from Gambino representing Diddy to our next mogul.
[Verse 2: Childish Gambino, Quavo, Young Thug, 21 Savage & BlocBoy JB]
This next chunk of the video is all about Jay-Z. I think this is the case because he throws his arms up in a bicep flex just like Jay does in the Otis music video at 2:38. And it makes sense Gambino would pick a dance move from a video with a huge American flag in the background to fit the ‘This is America’ theme. Gambino is mocking him saying, who are you really, the pretty guy or this hard gangster like Gambino shows in his dancing. Also right before they pan to the kids on the balcony, Bino also does Jay-Z’s signature lip curl look a couple times so we know it’s him and to signal the end of his section.
Look how I'm geekin' out (Hey)
I'm so fitted (I'm so fitted, woo)
Jay-Z is famous for making the fitted Yankees cap famous, it’s his signature look. More signs this verse is about Jay.
I'm on Gucci (I'm on Gucci)
Jay-Z has been seen in full wallpaper Gucci sweat suits but could also be referring to Gucci Mane who he hung out with at Beyonce’s tour around the time this song was released.
I'm so pretty (Yeah, yeah, woo)
I'm gon' get it (Ayy, I'm gon' get it)
Watch me move (Blaow)
These lines are probably referring to Jay-Z having a hidden preference for men, especially with the way Gambino flicks his wrist in the video when he says I’m so pretty.
This a celly (Ha)
That's a tool (Yeah)
On my Kodak (Woo) Black
I think that “this a celly, that’s a tool” harkens back to 2Pac’s lyrics in Changes where he sings, “They get jealous when they see ya with your mobile phone” then shortly after that he sings about the sound of his tool, referring to shooting a gun. But Childish flips these lyrics on their head. He is saying that it’s really the phone that’s a tool to be using, not a gun. And pans up and shows (the school kids specifically) on the balcony filming everything going on below. He’s telling the kids/other rappers, use your phone as a tool, you can record these bad deeds when you get blackmailed into being at the freak off. That’s how you can kill them and their career, not with a gun. Go tell somebody! There is also the reference to Kodak which plays into the picture taking theme, but also because Kodak Black has been accused of assaulting a teenage girl in a hotel room. So we have a good idea of what Gambino suggests all the kids start filming and collecting evidence of.
Ooh, know that (Yeah, know that, hold on)
Get it (Woo, get it, get it)
Ooh, work it (21)
Now we are onto Drake’s part. In the video Gambino starts doing the BlocBoy JB dance called Shoot. Drake is known for doing these little viral dance moves like in Hotline Bling. But not only that, this dance is also used in the song that both BlocBoy JB and Drake collaborate on for their video Look Alive. It starts at 2:07 in the Look Alive video. So this is Drake’s dance to signal his part is now starting.
Note this is where the pale horse rides by also potentially saying that Drake is one of the horsemen of the apocalypse. Interestingly, Drake’s collab with BlocBoy JB was pretty much the apocalypse for BlocBoy’s career, who hasn’t had a hit since.
Hunnid bands, hunnid bands, hunnid bands (Hunnid bands)
Contraband, contraband, contraband (Contraband)
I got the plug in Oaxaca (Woah)
They gonna find you like "blocka" (Blaow)
Again, we know this is Drake’s section because his song 10 bands starts out by saying “10 bands, 50 bands, 100 bands” almost identical to Bino’s lyrics here. Also Blocka was famously used by Biggie in his song Gimme the Loot which could be referring to Biggie's demise like Pac’s and making money from his death. Everything in this industry originates from pushing drugs, which has been alleged through the trafficking that Diddy, Jay-Z and Drake do through their private jets likely connected to their bosses, the Clive Davises and Lucian Grainges of the world. This escalates rap beefs and the whole culture to the next level where murder is often a consequence for young rappers in their prime when international drug lord money is involved.
An interesting point is this is the only time where Childish was about to shoot someone in the video, but where he didn’t have a school kid either handing him the gun or taking it away carefully from him. (Maybe also a diss at Drake that even though he acts hard he doesn’t shoot, he gets his horseman of the apocalypse to do his dirty deeds for him instead perhaps?). This is the beginning of the end for the rap mogul as he no longer has his kids doing his bidding for him. A simple message to show how the violence can be stopped, that these shootings can end when the kids stop enabling them. So then as soon as he can’t react in that moment and shoot someone his anger is forced to chill out, as shown by smoking a J, and to go back to exploiting the dead man’s music instead. If you don’t put a gun in someone’s hand when they are heated, those feelings too shall pass - kinda feel.
[Refrain: Choir, Childish Gambino, & Young Thug]
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, tell somebody
America, I just checked my following list, and
You mothafuckas owe me
Whose voice does that sound like!? It sounds a lot like Diddy to me, public enemy #1. This is basically saying that the moguls are the ones who we all owe it to for all of this glorified gun violence in America. That we owe them way more follows and likes for what a massive influence they have had on the violence and chaos we see in America today.
Grandma told me
Get your money, Black man (Black man)
(1, 2, 3—get down)
In Moneybagg Yo’s song 1, 2, 3, he also has a line that says “1, 2, 3, let’s go!” in a similar vein.
But something interesting I came across was Nas’s song Get Down where they use a sample from James Brown's “The Boss” that sounds extremely similar to the way Gambino screams “Get Down!” Which would fit well if the guitar singer from the beginning is meant to be Nas and Pac doing Thugz Mansion.
Also make sure you check out Nas’s song Get Down so that you can hear how much Jay-Z outright copied this song for The Story of OJ. From the musical structure with the piano and interwoven samples right down to the theme reiterated by the sample at the end of Nas’s song: “If that’s how our people are gonna get down, how are we ever gonna get up?”
SZA
Finally to wrap up the video, I have been stumped for a long time as to why SZA is randomly at the end of this video sitting on one of the cars. But I think I finally know why and it reconfirms that this last scene is all about Drake. If you watch Drake’s music video for Worst Behavior (not very Canadian of him to spell behaviour that way I might add) you will see Drake rapping and dancing with a few cars surrounding him and one of those cars has other rappers making cameos in it. In Gambino’s video SZA represents that car with a famous cameo. I think this is further confirmed when the black edges of the video start closing inwards at the end of This is America, the exact same way that Worst Behavior ends. So why SZA as the cameo then? Cause it reminds people that Drake is a p*do.
This is from an article in the Rolling Stone: In 2020, Drake revealed publicly that he and SZA had dated over a decade ago, well before she was an established artist (her earliest music goes back to around 2012; her critical breakthrough, Ctrl, came in 2017). On 21 Savage’s “Mr. Right Now,” Drake rapped about a newer fling who was a fan of SZA’s: “Yeah, said she wanna fuck to some SZA, wait / ‘Cause I used to date SZA back in ’08 / If you cool with it, baby, she can still play.” A few days later, SZA responded, corroborating Drake’s claim with a slight correction: they dated in 2009, when both would have been over 18. Since SZA would not have turned 18 until late 2008, she wanted to set the record straight. “in this case a year of poetic rap license mattered 🥴lol I think he jus innocently rhymed 08 w wait [sic],” she tweeted. “I just didn’t want anybody thinking anything underage or creepy was happening . Completely innocent . Lifetimes ago . [sic]”
If you have to specifically say something isn’t creepy and distance yourself from it being lifetimes ago, it usually is creepy. Drake would’ve been 22 when she was 17. Metro Boomin also happens to be on the Mr. Right Now track. He is currently in trouble for resurfaced old tweets showing how Metro used to tweet disgusting things about what he wanted to do to underage girls. Interestingly, Metro Boomin is also now beefing with Drake.
Drake doing his dance on the car of the original musician’s music seems to be accusing Drake directly of stealing 2Pac’s music. Orlando Brown recently said the cryptic statement that “Drake is Pac” which likely means he stole 2Pac’s approach/style/audience after his death. Gambino did some good foreshadowing here too with the recent AI release Drake put out of 2Pac.
This dance scene also signals that the Drake section is now over.
[Outro: Young Thug]
You just a black man in this world
You just a barcode, ayy
You just a black man in this world
Drivin' expensive foreigns, ayy
You just a big dawg, yeah
I kenneled him in the backyard
No, probably ain't life to a dog
For a big dog
The outro lyrics speak to how these gatekeepers keep black men down and control them with things like being forced to wear a dress to become famous or to submit to homosexual/p*do acts.. In the video, as I mentioned above, the black edges close in on Drake’s dancing scene in This is America. But they don’t completely close and end things like they do in the Worst Behavior video. Instead, in Gambino’s video, the camera pans to show the mogul running for his life with Young Thug’s lyrics almost like a quiet echo in the background. He isn’t running from the cops though, he’s running from the kids and from the public. When I mentioned earlier that the kids not handing over the last gun before Drake’s scene signalled the beginning of the end for the moguls, this is that conclusion. Where it is showing that if all the kids come together to stop enabling and rather expose the moguls, people will be chasing these bastards down once we realize what has been going on behind the curtain. Then the song that Young Thug is singing can just be a quiet echo of the way things were in the past.
If you don’t think Gambino would be this deep and that I went too far down the rabbit hole, do a Google search on the calculations that he came up with for why he sings about loving until 3005 in his song. He seems to go real deep with his lyrics. So a big question this leaves us with is, what did Childish Gambino witness in the rap industry? His whole rap career plays out like he is trying to avoid industry norms.
Even in Sweatpants, he has lyrics like:
No hands like soccer teams and y'all fuck boys like Socrates
You niggas ain't coppin' these, niggas ain't lookin' like me (Nah)
Nah, I ain't checkin' I.D. (Nah), but I bounce 'em with no problem
Seems like he is trying to make it really clear across his catalogue of music that he isn’t a p*do but that other rappers are. Where he is saying that he doesn’t need to ID his potential partners because he can tell they are obviously too young and that’s not hard to do.
Tell 'em, Problem (Problem!)
I'm winnin', yeah, yeah, I'm winnin' (What?)...
Rich kid, asshole, paint me as a villain
So who was trying to paint him as a villain, Drake? And that’s why the diss was originally meant for him?
Don't be mad 'cause I'm doing me better than you doing you…
Better than you doing you
Fuck it, what you gon' do? (What?!)
He’s taunting the other rappers cause he knows they can’t say shit if they are creeps. He has the same sentiment in Bonfire “It’s a bonfire, turn the lights out, I’m burning everything you mother fuckers talk about.”
Childish Gambino has always refrained from talking about the meaning of This is America whenever he is asked, and I can only assume that all of this is why.
Little Foot Big Foot
Now with his new release, Little Foot Big Foot and applying cultural compression to it, it has me wondering if he is referring to Megan Thee Stallion and the Nicki beef? People like Nicki (calling Megan Big Foot) have been claiming for some time she wasn’t even shot in the foot by Tory Lanez. There were many people laughing and making fun of Megan over getting shot. Which could be an interesting story for Childish to tell to represent how crazy this violent culture has gotten that people just laugh and blame the victim now when you get shot. Also a good metaphor for things like ‘shooting yourself in the foot’ for not having a lawyer look over potentially predatory industry contracts like in the beginning of his video. That you want to get in the cool kids club so bad you overlook it. Not as sure on this one though since the song just came out and I have only heard it a few times.
One last thing that is really interesting, there have been tons of artists on podcasts like Shay Shay talking about the strings these ultra rich moguls can pull. Like buying awards or gatekeeping people from being in the industry at all. There was even a story, I think maybe it was Gene Deal who told it, that when Killer Mike won at the grammys that Jay-Z was so angry he made sure to mess up his night by getting him locked up as soon as he left the awards stage. These moguls are extremely powerful and have an incredible amount of sway in the world/industry. If you check out Gambino’s profile on Youtube, his old music videos keep getting taken down, like Bonfire for example is just gone. Fans have been having to upload the videos themselves. There is a reply to a comment, on one of the fan uploaded vids, from Gambino’s account himself when someone asks why the videos are being taken down. His account just replies “Noone knows why :(“ Seems a bit odd all things considered and like maybe he has been at the mercy of these gatekeepers for going against the system.
I am so curious to know what the rest of you think about all of this!

I work with a marketing company who is a subsidiary of a large real estate developer. They're based out of a different part of the state and have an inhouse videographer, but it just makes more sense to hire me to shoot things in my area vs sending out their own videographer logistically. At the last minute they messaged me about a shoot for one of their ongoing projects and the owner of the real estate development company and a team of investors they flew in. Pretty easy shoot, just get b roll of the investors and executives and drone footage of landscapes across a few locations all within 5 or 10 miles. I was riding with one of the project managers in a work truck at location 2 getting b-roll from the car, but he said I had to drive myself to the last location because he didn’t want to double back.
The last location of the shoot is a big undeveloped island that doesn’t have paved roads, it had a dirt path with giant craters filled with water. As I’m following the project manager who is driving a big truck in my Fiat 500, he just plowed ahead. I ended up scratching the roof of my car while maneuvering off this undeveloped island. Any ideas of what to say to my contact, someone on their team saw me do it so there is at least a witness of it happening there. I’m upset about this and don’t know what to do or say to my contact at the marketing company about this? I don't want to burn a bridge because I like working with them and they’re pretty consistent and pay invoices quickly.

Travel Diary: I make $195,000 and spent $2149.75 (+49k points) while on a trip to Amsterdam
Section One: Bio
Age: 40
Occupation: Lawyer
Hometown: DC
Number of PTO days and how you accrue them: I earn 6 hours of annual leave every two weeks (19 days total a year), and used 36 hours for this trip
Section Two: Assets + Debt
Not super comfortable with a very detailed financial picture, but my NW is ~$750k. No SO.
Section Three: Income
Main Job Monthly Take Home: After all deductions and contributions to savings, my monthly take home is ~$6200
Section Four: Travel Expenses/Diary
Trip planning - My (40F) best friend from college (39F) and I decide to go to Amsterdam on a birthday trip. We both turn 40 in 2024, and we decide to go in May because it's in between our birthdays and because it'll be tulip season in Amsterdam! Neither of us have been. We also haven't travelled together before, despite being friends for 20(!) years, so we are a little apprehensive, although we have spent a lot of time together over the past few years. We decide on a 6 day trip. For purposes of this diary I'm going to list my half of the expenses for things we split. Costs are in US dollars, despite paying using Euros. As a side note, I also am a little over one year post-Gastric Bypass, which has a limited effect on my diet (I try to eat low carb, but you'll see that I mostly fail at this on this trip!).
Pre-trip expenses: $1193.15 total
Flight: $255 + 49k points (from Capital One)
Lodging: $1425.91 (split) - $713
Rijksmuseum: $40.28
Anne Frank House: $24.95
Keukenhof Gardens plus bus ticket: $36.20
Red Light District Tour: $50.52
Day trip to windmills tour: $43.20
Snacks: $30ish
Day 1 (Total $21.17)
Our flight is at 5:30pm, so we planned to be at the airport by 3:30pm, which actually turned out to be 4pm. Uber ($21.17). After checking bags (included in flight price) and getting through security we made it to our gate right as boarding was about to start. No time for food or drinks.
On the plane I eat a snack of roasted chickpeas before dinner, which was chicken cacciatore with mashed potatoes, bread, cheesecake, cheese, and a salad. And two glasses of wine. I save the cheesecake and cheese for later.
My friend and I watch a movie (Poor Things) and then try to sleep. I am reading A Fault In Our Stars, because Amsterdam. I try unsuccessfully to sleep for awhile and then go back to reading. At some point i eat the cheese and cheesecake. Breakfast is a cheese roll, which i eat a couple bites of (OMG does all of Amsterdam have this much cheese?? - spoiler alert… yes it does!). I wish I had slept more.
Day 2 - Even though it feels like a continuation of day one. (Total $207.02)
7am - We land at 7 and then grab the bags and go through customs. Easy peasy. We are exhausted so we grab coffee at the airport before figuring out public transit ($5.10). I take out 60 euro for cash in case we need it ($65). We buy a train ticket to the central station ($6.33) and when we get there we buy a four day unlimited public transit pass ($28.44) so that we don’t have to worry about it later.
We get to the hotel at around 9am. They tell us it will cost $50 to check in early, which we opt not to do. Instead we go get breakfast and coffee at a cafe nearby ($21.20). The hotel tells us that our prepaid amount did not include city taxes, which is another $183 (my half $91.88).
11:30am - Back at the room we decide to rest for 90 minutes. Enough to catch up on sleep but not to waste the day and get more jet-lagged. After a rest we decide to walk around and get a feel for the neighborhood and do some shopping. We find a bookstore, and I buy a copy of my favorite book from high school, Tess of the D’Ubervilles with a beautiful cover and gold edges ($21.46). We also buy fries with truffle, mayo, and Parmesan at a fry shop ($3.32) (that’s all they have and they are delicious!). We also stop a grocery store and pick up a few things including yogurt, cheese, salami, apples, and an energy drink ($13.19). We have some early days planned and nothing seems to open early. It’s very cold and rainy and semi unpleasant.
6pm - We drop stuff off, bundle up, and head off to dinner and a tour of the red light district. We try to find a place that serves Snert, a Dutch pea soup, but strike out. We end up at an Asian place instead. I get chicken satay and a beer and my friend gets Indonesian soup and wine ($16.10). Our red light tour is great, but we are exhausted after and head straight home to bed. 22k steps total
Day 3 (Total $87.24)
7:30am - We have an early day planned, and have to be on a bus near the central station by 8am. I eat a yogurt and energy drink (from grocery store) for breakfast and we take public transit (covered on unlimited card) to the station. We find the right bus and head off!
First stop is the windmills, which are beautiful! I am happy we get there early because we basically have the place to ourselves. My friend gets a coffee and we both use the restroom ($1.08!). Then we head to Edam and do a walking tour there. Next stop is a clog/cheese place, which feels very touristy but they do feed us lots of cheese. I buy a cheese slicer as a souvenir ($10.81). Next stop is another small town where we have lunch at a cafe. We basically pick one at random. My friend gets fried fish and I get a ham and cheese panini and a beer ($17.30). Final stop is an artificial island town called Maarken. We do another walking tour.
2:30pm - we arrive back in Amsterdam and get let off north of the water. I grab a coffee ($3.76). We go up to the Adam lookout and take a ride on the swing off the side of the building ($25.95 for swing plus ticket to lookout). We also grab a drink and sit on a pillow watching the city from very high up, which is lovely ($6.63). On the way out I buy a reusable water bottle at the gift shop ($4.87).
After the lookout we take the tram over to a brewery at a windmill that was recommended to us by several people (including here on Reddit!). Cost was covered by the transit pass. We buy bitterballen and a small bottle of Genever (local whiskey) (paid by my friend) and a flight of beer ($16.84). We are a bit tipsy but enjoying the lovely weather.
6:30 - On the way back toward the hotel the weather turns and it starts raining so we dip into a pub for dinner. I have a burger ($16.12). We are there at 8pm, which is momentous because it’s a day of remembrance and the whole bar is silent for two minutes. It was very interesting to be there during this time.
We are exhausted by this point and go home to bed. 19k steps total for the day.
Day 4 (Total $104.33)
7am - Another early day as we have to be on a bus at 7:30 to go to Keukenhof for the tulips! (paid in advance). We wanted to take the first bus out there because we heard the crowds were bad. I eat a yogurt for breakfast and take a 5 hour energy (no cafes open this early!). We try to take public transit to the train station but didn’t realize that the trains do not run that early on a Sunday so we grab an Uber instead ($12.20). We tell the Uber driver we’re trying to catch a bus so he makes sure we find the right place and we pull up just as the bus is loading. Phew!
8:00am - we spend 5 hours in the gardens and take literally hundreds of pictures. We are glad that we get there early as the first few hours are lovely and empty. We get a coffee ($4.60) and lunch later ($25.36). By 1pm it’s getting very crowded so we start heading out. We grab the bus back to the train station.
2:30pm - We decide to go by the Rijksmuseum although not in it because we planning that later. Instead we stop off at the Van Gogh/Rijks gift shop that’s nearby. I get a couple souvenirs, including a foldable bag and a magnet ($20.44). I also get a coffee ($3.64) and my friend gets bubble tea. We sit on the hill on museumplein and people watch. After awhile it starts to get hot (we had dressed for the early morning) so we head back to the hotel to change.
5pm - we decide we are having an evening of drinking. We first grab a drink in the hotel bar because we get free vouchers for each day we choose not to have the room cleaned. Then we have dinner at an udon place, which is delicious. We have tempura, chicken katsu, and dumplings ($15.94). Then because it’s cinco de mayo we decide to have margaritas at the Mexican place near the hotel ($15.15)! Not Dutch but it’s fun. We head down the street to another bar and have a Genever cocktail called an Amsterdam mule ($9.91). I am happy with our choice of hotel because there are so many places in our neighborhood. On the way home we pass a fresh stroopwaffle place and must get in line for one ($5.92).
By then we are exhausted and head to bed. 21k steps total for the day.
Day 5 (Total $80.44)
8am - We have a slightly less early day but have tickets to the Anne Frank house at 9:15. (paid in advance). I eat some yogurt and cheese in the room before we leave. It’s walkable so we decide to head out early and grab coffee on the way. ($3.19). The house is sombering but I’m glad we did it.
11am - After the Anne Frank house we walk to the nearby cheese museum. We sample lots of cheese. I buy one cheese to take home ($15.18). We want to walk to a used bookstore, but decide to have lunch at a cafe on the way. We pick one at random. We split chicken tenders and a goat cheese and apple sandwich and I have a beer. ($15.14). The sandwich is one of the best things we have eaten. We spend about an hour in the bookstore and my friend buys one book.
3pm - We realize we are by the monkey bar (one of the oldest bars in Amsterdam that they told us about on our red light district tour). We stop in for a drink. Ok two drinks. ($12.50). We take the metro back towards the hotel and stop in at a tile store in our neighborhood so I can buy a magnet. I buy magnets from all my trips, but I like non-touristy handmade ones if I can find them, Van Gogh magnet from yesterday aside. I buy one with a windmill on it. ($14). We also stop at the grocery store for more yogurt ($3.05) and for Dutch apple pie at the cafe across the street from the hotel ($4). We get back to the hotel and have another free drink and then rest before dinner.
8pm - We go out to a Dutch restaurant for dinner. I am not super hungry from pie so I just get the snert (pea soup). My friend gets sauerkraut and potatoes. Sorry, but I thought it was pretty bland food in general. ($13.38).
We head home. It’s a lighter day, only 14k steps today.
Day 6 (Total $194.47)
8am - Today is our last full day in Amsterdam. We have planned to spend the day at the Rijksmuseum. We want to get there right when it opens for crowd reasons. We had bought “friend of the museum” passes ahead of time so that we can skip the line. I have a yogurt for breakfast and we walk to a cafe near the museum for coffee and breakfast for my friend ($3.78). The man at the cafe is very nice and we love sitting outside in the sunshine. It’s going to be a warm day!
We spend about 5 hours at the museum. We rush to see the Van goghs and the main gallery where the Rembrandts are, including The Night Watch, which is probably one of the most famous paintings in there. We had downloaded the app so we shared a pair of earbuds and listened to audio notes about many of the works (they have a number you can enter in). We take a break outside for coffee ($7.29 - i pay) and skip the line again. Totally worth it for the more expensive ticket. Around 2 we are hungry and have seen almost everything. We stop in the gift shop and I buy a ring and earring set. ($64.76). I forget to use my 10% discount for being a friend. :( I wanted a necklace too but didn’t like the ones they had there so I’ll try to find a matching piece at home.
2pm - My friend has been trying to get herring for the whole trip so we make it a point to do that. The first place is a bust so we find a little stand that sells it a 15 min walk away. We are determined, so we head there. I don’t eat fish so I get a shawarma on the way, which is terrible (cash). I throw half away. After lunch we get ice cream. I get coffee ice cream, and it makes up for the bad shawarma ($6). We also stop at the peanut butter store, which is allegedly the first in the world, and I pick up 3 small jars for my mom for Mother’s Day ($8.11). We also stop at a thrift store and i buy a dress ($21.59). At some point this day (I think), we also stop at another bookstore, and I buy a few things including a card, a couple gifts, and a book ($39.71).
6pm - After resting a bit, we get two more free drinks at the hotel and then head out to dinner. We pick another Asian place. I get an aperol spritz at dinner and we share appetizers (satay, spring rolls, and bitterballen). We also get coconut ice cream with mango sauce for dessert. All yum! ($33.03).
We get one final drink at a local bar near the hotel ($10.20) and I’m again grateful for our choice of neighborhood. Today has been all walking because our 4-day metro pass ran out yesterday. Total steps 13k.
Day 7 (Total $36.93)
8am - this our last day. The plane was supposed to leave at 1:30pm, but we get a message that it’s delayed an hour. We decide to have a leisurely breakfast. We pick a place that’s at a hotel near our hotel. I get an egg sandwich and my friend gets French toast. We both get coffee. ($15.27)
We decide to leave for the airport around 11. We walk to the central station about 20 min away, and I buy wooden tulips for my mom on the way (cash). We buy train tickets (cash) and get right on a train. We are proud of ourselves for our navigation on this trip.
12pm - we get to the airport and through security. We head to a lounge but there’s a line. We are 40th in line based on our QR code place. We decide not to wait and sit down for lunch at a random bar. I get a sausage and a beer ($20.66). We walk around some and get another message that our flight is delayed more, to 4pm. It’s finally our turn to get into the lounge at 2:30 (2 1/2 hour wait) so we go. I grab some water and a whiskey and coke but we just ate so we are not hungry. Around 3 we head to the gate. Unfortunately when we get there our flight is delayed more and will board at 4. They give us airport vouchers so we buy a book, beer, and some stroopwaffles ($1 after vouchers). We finally board and head off around 5.
On the flight we are served dinner. They have run out of chicken by the time they get to me, but eventually find one and bring it to me later. I have a wine too. I read, watch a movie, and try to sleep a little. We have a whole row of four to ourselves so we can spread out. Dinner is a French bread pizza.
8pm - We land around 7pm (love time zone math!), grab our bags, and get a taxi to my car ($27.09). I drop off my friend and get home at 8:30. I am exhausted but cuddle my cats for about an hour before going to bed. 15k steps today
After trip expenses - $225 cat sitting
Total expenses: $2149.75 (+49k points)
Flight: $255 + 49k points
Lodging: $804.88
Food/drinks: $531.38
Travel: $101.56
Activities: $221.10
Souvenirs/gifts: $ 231.93
Final parting thoughts - I think just over $2k for an almost-week long trip to Europe is a pretty comfortable number for me. I am glad I could use points for most of the flight. We definitely didn't try to cheap out on anything. We spent a lot of money drinking (neither of us drink this much usually). I hope this was helpful to anyone, and I look forward to reactions/comments!