Do you know a better alternative? Ideally, bootstrapped. Let me know, and I may switch.
Hosting and Cloud Services

1. Digital Ocean for hosting.
2. AWS for hosting, storage, and CDN.
3. Hetzner for bare metal.
4. Heroku for db hosting.
5. Monovm for hosting.
6. Google Cloud.
7. Github for teams.
8. Vercel for nextjs hosting.
9. Supabase as CMS and DB.
10. MONGODB Atlas for nosql db
11. Microsoft Azure websites and tables

Web and Dev Tools 12. Apify Web Automation 13. Notion for docs 14. Figma for design and mockups 15. Canva for videos 16. Excalidraw for wireframes 17. BunnyCDN for images 18. TWILIO for SMS 19. Sendgrid for emails 20. Sensorpro for emails 21. AWS SES for emails 22. IMGIX for image resizer 23. ScreenshotOne for screenshot API 24. UploadCare for image upload and storage 25. Scrapingbee to scrape internet
AI & LLMs 26. Open AI for LLMs and image gen 27. Anthropic for claude LLM 28. Azure Open AI 29. Pinecone for vector db
Security, Testing and Monitoring 30. Cloudflare for ddos protection, IPs, storage, AI 31. New Relic for server monitoring 32. Sentry for js even logging 33. STATUSCAKE for uptime monitoring 34. Uptimerobot for uptime monitoring 35. GHOSTINSPECTOR for e2e visual testing 36. LAMBDATEST for e2e testing 37. Qase for testing
Communication and Collaboration 38. Zoom to record calls 39. Loom for async communication internally 40. Sinch Mailjet to send emails 41. Skype for shared US phone number 42. Slack for shared channels with enterprise clients 43. Microsoft Teams for enterprise clients 44. Google (Gsuite) for emails and drive 45. 1Password to share passwords across the team 46. Hubstaff to track hours to bill for enterprise clients
Marketing and Sales 47. Gumroad 48. Firstpromoter for affiliate partners 49. Crisp for customer support 50. Intercom for customer support 51. Mailtrap for emails 52. Stripe 53. Paddle
Legal & Accounting 54. Pandadoc for legal paperwork and docs 55. Quickbooks for accounting 56. Mercury for banking 57. Carta for captable
Other 58. Proxysell for proxies 59. TLDR to record and transcribe meetings 60. VeeD for making videos 61. Grammarly to fix my dyslexia 62. X(Twitter) for verified badges 63. Facebook for ads 64. Google Adword 65. Godaddy & Namecheap for domains 66. Ipostal for a postal address
Also, I use my own products 67. Unicorn Platform to build websites, waitlists, directories and landing pages. 68. FloatUI tailwind UI kit to code the frontend. 69. SeoBOT to research & generate blog articles. 70. ListingBott to grow domain rating and list my products on all web directories with one click. 71. IndexRusher to force google to index my web pages faster. 72. MarsX to build all my saas tools really fast using lowcode/AI IDE.
What products would you recommend to use instead?
I burn $12,319/month on average now.

These hacking apps are very useful for those who wants to hack someones account or device remotely. Hacking, by its very nature, is the act of breaking into computer systems and networks.
In simple terms, it is the process of finding clever ways to get around security measures so that one can gain access to data or information.
Android, being the world‘s most popular operating system, already has a plethora of mobile applications that allow its users to perform ethical hacking tasks from the comfort of their hands.
There are many hacking apps available on google play store but not all of them are safe so be careful while downloading any app. Some of the best hacking apps for android are as follows:-

These hacking apps are very useful for those who wants to hack someones account or device remotely. Hacking, by its very nature, is the act of breaking into computer systems and networks.
In simple terms, it is the process of finding clever ways to get around security measures so that one can gain access to data or information.
Android, being the world‘s most popular operating system, already has a plethora of mobile applications that allow its users to perform ethical hacking tasks from the comfort of their hands.
There are many hacking apps available on google play store but not all of them are safe so be careful while downloading any app. Some of the best hacking apps for android are as follows:-

Hacking Apps for Android

A hacking app is a tool that can be used to test the security of your phone. It allows you to find out if your device has been compromised and if so, how it happened.
These apps are useful for finding out if there are any security vulnerabilities in your device. But they don’t provide any direct protection against attacks like malware or viruses.

1. AndroRAT

AndroRAT is a remote administration tool for Android devices. It has the ability to send commands to a device, and to download files from it. AndroRAT can also change the phone’s settings, and show the user’s location on a map.
It is a free and open-source Java-based client/server application developed to give remote control of the Android system for retrieving information.
It was created by a team of 4 for a university project and includes functionalities such as getting call logs, contacts, messages, and location (by GPS/Network), taking pictures from the camera, streaming video and sound from the microphone, making calls, and opening URLs in the default browser.
Download: AndroRAT

2. zANTI

zANTI is a mobile penetration testing and security analysis tool that lets you see how risky a network is. Using zANTI allows you to simulate a cyber attack—specifically Man In the Middle (MITM) attacks—to test networks and identify vulnerabilities in them.
This tool will show you the users connected to the network, the weak points in their devices and the network itself, and where you should apply further cyber-protection.
However, your device needs to be rooted in order to use zANTI properly. It provides a comprehensive security architecture for your Android device.
zANTI is a security scanner that detects and removes malware, adware, spyware, and viruses from your device. It also helps you to keep your phone secure by removing unnecessary apps or games when they are installed on the device.
The app’s main features include:* Scanning all apps downloaded from Google Play Store automatically when they are installed on the phone. Removing any unwanted applications/games which were installed on your phone or tablet.
Monitoring whatsapp messages sent via chat boxes to check whether they contain malicious links or texts.* Scanning all attachments sent via email attachments (including PDFs) for viruses and malware infections
Download: zAnti

3. Fing

Fing is a network utility app that provides you with an in-depth view of your network. You can use it to find all the devices connected to your network, and their MAC addresses.
This type of tool can be very useful in a number of different situations, such as when you want to find out what devices are on a network, or when you want to troubleshoot connectivity problems.
Fing also allows you to configure settings like:

• DHCP reservations
• Proxy server configuration

Download: Fing

4. Nmap

Nmap is a security scanner that can be used to scan your network for open ports, vulnerabilities, and other information. It can also be used as an alternative way to find out which programs are installed on a computer or device.
Nmap is a command line tool and requires you to type in commands into the terminal (command prompt) of your Operating System before it will do anything useful.
Download: Nmap

5. Droidsheep

Droidsheep is a tool that can be used to collect information about the Facebook and Instagram accounts of users. However it’s designed to help you gather information on your friends, family and other people who use Social Media.
Sure, here’s your revised sentence with added transition words:
It is one of the best hacking apps that allows you to intercept web browsers that are not well protected using a WiFi connection. Additionally, it examines and accesses the strength of a network by exposing the vulnerabilities.
DroidSheep is an application equipped with functionalities that simplify the hacking of social media messaging platforms such as Facebook and Instagram. This distinctive feature distinguishes it from other hacking applications.
The app is available for Android devices and will run on most versions of the operating system, including Android 4.0 or later (Ice Cream Sandwich), but it does not work with some older versions of Google’s mobile platform such as Gingerbread 9 or Honeycomb 3.2
Download: Droidsheep

Read More

ReadAlso:
The World’s Top 8 Most Famous Female Hacker
Hijacking satellites is easy than you think
The Top 10 Best Keylogger Apps for Android Devices
How to Make a Fake Facebook Phishing Page

Tomorrow is Mother's Day. I forgot. My son's father never has him make me a card or buy me a box of chocolates or call me. And I won't have my own mother to call. So it slipped my mind until I looked over my sales numbers last night and realized customers were stockpiling for something. And today was strange and brought up a lot of thoughts Ive had over the last few years so Im posting them to meander while i wander and to get it off my chest.
And today was a strange day indeed. I woke up to a call from my brother. Usually that ringtone is reserved for my boss so when I rolled over in bed and realized it was my brother calling I was confused. My brother and I haven't spoken in nearly 6 months since we had a conversation where he said I'm "just like mom". The meme on its surface was benign and I know he didn't mean any malice behind it, simply the banter of two abused siblings and their patter, but the words stung. I didn't handle myself with grace and dignity at the time - I lost my temper, wrote him a barrage of messages about how insulting it was to be compared to the woman who had emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and sometimes physically ruined us to the point that none of her three children speak to her, none of which have the same reason,, and that I wouldn't be speaking to him until an apology had been given in good faith. I waited a few days and when no apology came, I blocked him on all but one app, texted our dad about the situation and how hurt I was, and moved on. Christmas, New Years, his birthday came and went, and we haven't spoken.
Back in 2021 when the world was ending, my mother fell down the QAnon rabbit hole. She has always been a religious woman which was the crux of our constant loggerheads, but she fell further into the ideology of Trump as saviour, 5G microchips, vaccinations. Despite her verbal and emotional abuse, my mother was always a believer in medicine which I respected so to see this contrast was abrupt and alarming. She had us vaccinated as children and young adults, she works as a care aide in a palliative care ward. And yet suddenly she was touting that the vaccinations were being forced, started sending me Trump memes. The irony of us being Canadian vis a vis her Trump support wasn't lost on my child who asked me if she was okay after one of her unhinged rants about how Donny was gonna save us all. When your then 5 year old asks you if grammy is mentally well you take stock.
And my mother herself grew up in an abusive home. Her parents raised foster children for additional income that her father molested, he deliberately gave her Hepatitis C, they came from noblesse but were the black sheep. Hours long "tea parties" where we learned etiquette were drilled into us early, a stagnant reminder of her parents familial orbit in political circles; out of a sense of loyalty she remained close to her mother at the least until the old womans death. So it's not shocking that she would perpetrate the abusive behaviour on her own children. I somehow got the worst of it being born with two X chromosomes when she "hated little girls because little girls grow into little bitches" but my brothers had their struggles too. My older brother left home at 18 because she somehow managed to parentify him and hold him under lock and key to the point he enlisted in the navy to get away from her. His last straw was when she called his wife a cunt (of all the things she ever said to him that was the one that MAYBE might have been 90% accurate, fuck you KK). That was in 2009. In 2011, my dad finally grew tired of her abuse of him specifically. He wasn't even AWARE of what was happening with us kids bc she'd conditioned us that if we said anything he wouldnt believe us - to this day, after hearing us tell him the truth, he feels such second hand guilt he spoils us rotten. He left her - my younger brother chose to live with my dad so she sold his car that he'd inherited from her parents (I got nothing in the inheritance because of those pesky xx chromosomes) to "pay [her] back" for all the money "[she] spent raising him". Never mind that he was 18, the car was in his name, and it was her duty to raise him as, you know, a parent. I held on desperately wanting my mother to love me, to treat me well. I begged my brothers to give her another chance, to let her back in. I gave up by 2013 but kept in contact for my son who was born in 2015. By 2021 I was starting to crack.
Late in 2021, just shy of my 31st birthday, I finally snapped in half. My mother posted a meme to Facebook where she compared the mask mandates to the holocaust and used a real photo of real people who died in the showers at Auschwitz as a shock tactic. My skin burned as I looked at the post and I wrote a scathing remark. I made very sure to do it in her comments because I knew when people asked why I'd gone scorched earth she would twist my words because she has done so a million times. I made it extremely clear that her ideology and mine had finally collapsed like a black star and I could not have her near my child's malleable brain spewing her filth and untruths. That I would not allow him to grow up with her hateful heart influencing him and that I was choosing to be a better mother than she'd been by first protecting him from her and her dangerous views.
She'd already endangered his paternal nana's life once (she's a transplantee) by showing up at my house unvaxxed and maskless when she works in a fucking hospital. That I put up with quite a lot of her shit over the years because she is my MOM and i love her but I cannot do this anymore. I then blocked her, called my ex to let him know what I had done since they live in the same town so she might try to circumvent me to see our son so he was prepared (and he was fully on board for bc he trusts my dad wholeheartedly but trusts my mom as much as he trusts a scorpion in his palm) and left it alone. She left me a few vms but by January I stopped hearing from her.
So today I rolled over in bed to see my brothers name and well....we haven't talked since our fight so....it's probably important. I hesitated to pick up but what if it's about dad? I answered and gave a tight "hello", my first in months. His voice was so familiar and my chest felt so tight.
The convo started as I expected - he had something important to tell me. I braced for it and then he said "uncle rodger passed away last week". I couldn't help but laugh. Uncle rodger was my moms oldest sibling, I think he was like 15 years older than her so he'd be nearly 80? I met him a grand total of MAYBE 5 times in my entire life, we had exactly ONE conversation in 2011 at my moms father's funeral. Her dad abused rodger badly and he'd gone to the funeral to basically spit on his dads grave, his daughter knitted during the funeral and mockingly laughed whenever anyone said a kind word - a sentiment shared by all his granddaughters equally. mom forced me to attend for "family optics" as her dad was related to several politicians who were in attendance. Uncle rodg and I had a smoke on the balcony and talked about what a giant piece of shit Andrew was in life and how funny it was everyone was pretending to be sad over him being dead. He said "ur just as smart as mom says u are" and I said "idk how the fuck she'd know that she can't even spell my name properly and she's my own grandmother" and he laughed ironically. It was a bonding moment for sure but we'd never spoken before and haven't since so i was confused as to why my brother thought I'd even care about poor old Uncle rodg.
When my son was born, my ex and I agreed on one thing- our son would be raised agnostically and that we would teach him about religion, but that he'd be free to choose on his own what he believes in and we would be supportive if he did eventually choose to follow religion but not actively participate. To that end, we forbade my mother from bringing him to church or Bible study. On one occasion where I trusted her to babysit she sent me a photo of my son, then aged 3, with a small child. "They're having a great time!" She captioned. "Where are you?" I inquired. She did not respond. The next day, when I picked him up she elaborated that they'd had an "impromptu" bible study session and brought him along. I flashed back to all the times I'd said I don't believe in God and she'd slapped me across the face. I decided not to let him spend the night at grammys anymore.
I laughed into the phone. "Oh noooooo I'm devastated about my uncle who died that I barely knew". My brother managed a half laugh - they HAD been in touch over the years and were adversaries. My brother, seeking some form of family had reached out over the years and met with antagonism and hostility which he would deliver back incisively.
Rodg was the oldest of 5, mom was the baby, and because of the age difference, the older 3 had their little clique and mom and the second youngest were always quite close, so by proxy my brother and I were quite close to uncle Henri. I grew apart from him after one too many rants about how much he loved Harper but my brother, always dutiful, has kept in somewhat touch. After broaching the news my brother let me know he'd also called uncle Henri to give his condolences.
And then he said something very interesting. He told me uncle Henri said "you know, your mother misses you. You should get in touch with her. She has three children and none of them speak to her and she doesn't understand why". My brother obviously brushed him off; he hasn't spoken to her in over a decade, why would he now? Then my brother gently said to me "you know, there's an irony, that she was treated badly and did the same thing to her own children but doesn't recognize it.". It wasn't a direct apology, but I recognized it for what it was - a tacit admission that we'd both endured hell, and he'd chosen this moment to tackle this subject with me without using the words "im sorry", but also to let the gates of communication reopen again so we could go back to whatever normal we had. He was acknowledging my abuse for real, something he'd never done. He was sorry.
The rest of the conversation was brief. We each gave a quick update of our lives as if nothing ever happened and said we'd chat soon; I suppose thats how it goes when you love someone very much but have a stupid argument where you're not mad at each other but take it out on each other.
I relayed the conversation to my partner and as I did so something struck me - when my uncle said "she doesn't understand". All three of us explicitly told her exactly why we were cutting her off when we did so, so there's nothing to misunderstand. My partner said "some people think the world is happening to them". If my uncle had said "she feels badly about everything and wants to apologize or start over" that would be a completely different beast, but she truly sees this as something the world has done to her rather than something she has created. The irony is the best lesson my mother ever taught me is that when you point a finger at someone, there are three pointing back at yourself. It's a shame she can't see it.
So tomorrow is mothers day. I won't be celebrating, I'll be thinking about ways I can do things differently for my own son. There will be no benediction for my mother, but maybe I can save myself.
And to those of you who also have narcissistic mothers, may you have a day of peace, may you not feel guilty if you cut her off, may you tell your own story and find some catharis

Hello everyone, Thank you for taking the time to view this post.
I am here with a question, What IOS messaging applications are the most secure. From externally to internally.
I have done research on this and a summarised version is below.
Signal Free IOS & Android Open source and encrypted +Disappearing messages +Can secure the app with a password
REASONS TO AVOID -Phone number required for sign up
Telegram Free IOS & Android REASONS TO BUY +Intuitive interface +Syncs seamlessly REASONS TO AVOID -End-to-end encryption isn't enabled by default (Turning this on would be ok though..?)
WhatsApp Free IOS & Android REASONS TO BUY +End-to-end encryption +Messages and images can self destruct +Widely used REASONS TO AVOID -Requires phone number -Owned by Facebook
Threema $3.99 IOS & Android REASONS TO BUY +End-to-end encryption +Private chats +No phone number or email required REASONS TO AVOID -Not free -Few advanced features
Wire Free IOS & Android REASONS TO BUY +End-to-end encryption +Independently audited +Easy to use REASONS TO AVOID -Email or phone number required -No two-factor authentication (2FA)
Viber Free IOS & Android REASONS TO BUY +End-to-end encryption +Disappearing messages +Hidden chats +Syncs across desktop and mobile REASONS TO AVOID -Not as popular as it used to be
Dust Free IOS & Android REASONS TO BUY +End-to-end encryption +Stealth search +Screenshot notifications +Data breach alerts REASONS TO AVOID -No chat history
Can I please get help with this legends!
Should people also be implementing VPN or proxies when while the app is running (and turn off background refresh or something)

Tbs has teamed up with Gagaoolala to bring us our next JBL.

Where to Watch ╰┈➤Gagaoolala Episode 4

Extras Youtube Playlist
https://preview.redd.it/0ggw45wcjgzc1.jpg?width=928&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6ef80d002f909a06d8ee6464bb99be6bc5c2f8aa

🎬Story 🎥

Adapted from the ongoing 5-volume manga series 25時、赤坂で (25 Ji, Akasaka de) by 夏野寛子 (Natsuno Hiroko). It started in 2018 and is serialized in OnBlue.
​
https://preview.redd.it/ugy0mtbfjgzc1.jpg?width=6912&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f1bdd805965d241f20eb12606031d392a8b2302e

When Shirasaki, an underdog stage actor, gets cast in a gay drama series, he is surprised to learn that he will be working with Hayama, his charming clubmate from university who is now a popular actor. During production, Shirasaki realizes that he will need some inspiration and goes to find some where the local gay people hang out. What he didn't expect was to meet Hayama there, which eventually leads to a drunken kiss. He soon finds himself confused and conflicted about his feelings as he struggles to keep his emotions contained on-screen…(Source: Gagaoolala)

Teaser 🎞 Trailer

🎬Cast and Crew 🎥

• Director ➢Horie Takahiro 🎭X🎭
• Director ➢Kawasaki Ryo 🎭IG🎭X 🎭FB🎭 worked as a Screenwriter on Naked Dining and Director on Minato's Coin Laundry Season 2 and Strawberry Film
• Screenwriter ➢Aso Kumiko worked on a long list of dramas since 2006

​
https://preview.redd.it/jgpvl4fgjgzc1.jpg?width=300&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=96a3984161429fb4e22f0dba91a3e11c6fbaa02d
Niihara Taisuke as Shirasaki Yuki🎭IG🎭X🎭

(Supporting roles in Eternal Yesterday, Sempai This Cannot be Love, and The Gods' Favorites)

​
https://preview.redd.it/v8ri10wijgzc1.jpg?width=300&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=171e31d87afdb1762004673e871f63a5a34b8008

• Komagine Kiita as Hayama Asami 🎭IG🎭X🎭Tiktok🎭 Youtube🎭

(A variety of roles including Kamen Rider)

​
https://preview.redd.it/tbug7ruljgzc1.jpg?width=300&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=853c53ba4681f784a69d15357427b9e84ea93c32

• Usa Takuma as Sakuma Hajime 🎭IG🎭X🎭Tiktok🎭 Youtube🎭

KissXKissXKiss Shower {Fever Kiss} & {Ageless Kiss} KissXKissXKiss Melting Night {Nursing Kiss} {Secret Kiss} and A Man Who Defies the World of BL

​

• Nagumo Shoma as Yamase Kazuma 🎭IG🎭X🎭Tiktok🎭

KissXKissXKiss {Atelier Kiss} {Growth Kiss}, Minato's Coin Laundry Season 1

​

• Hashimoto Atsushi as Shinoda Shota 🎭IG🎭X🎭
• Katayama Moemi as Akeno Kei 🎭IG🎭X🎭
• Shinohara Yushin as Mihara Nozomu 🎭X🎭

🎬Music 🎥

Opening 赫赫(Kakkaku) by 鯨木(KUJIRAGI) 🎧Youtube 🎧Youtube music 🎧Spotify 🎧Apple
Closing 東京ナイトロンリー by Mel

🎬General Info 🎥

• Complete Information ➢ MDL &BLD
• Other Names ➢25 Ji, Akasaka de, 25時、赤坂で
• Country➢ Japan
• Episodes➢10
• Airs➢ Apr 19, 2024 - ?
• Airs On➢ Friday
• Duration: 30 min.
• Production Company ➢TBS
• Social Media ➢website 🎭IG🎭X🎭

🎬Goods 🎥

​
https://preview.redd.it/bsryd1ypjgzc1.jpg?width=481&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3c960f8f39fbcabb13b25e7bcdc0927ef6acb6a0
https://www.manga10.com/ip/686
We have goods up for the series at Manga 10. There isn't much for the drama yet but there is a bunch for the manga. As always you will need a proxy service to order unless you are in Japan.

Archive today Link
Excerpts:
"On the second day of his civil fraud trial in New York last fall, Donald Trump posted a photo of a young woman, Allison Greenfield, standing next to New York senator Charles E. Schumer. Trump claimed falsely that she was “Schumer’s girlfriend” and was “running this case against me.”
Trump’s post about Greenfield, the principal law clerk for New York Supreme Court Justice Arthur Engoron, received only around 1,400 shares, modest activity for a former president whose Twitter account once had nearly 90 million followers.
Engoron, who oversaw the trial, ordered Trump to take down the post, which he did the same day. But the message was already out. The next day, insults directed at Greenfield flooded right-wing podcasts and social media.
Over the next two months, dozens of articles focused on Greenfield’s role. Conservative media personalities such as Laura Loomer and the cable TV news channel Newsmax kept the spotlight on the clerk by frequently repeating Trump’s complaints.
With the attention from Trump’s backers came threats and abuse — a torrent that compelled Greenfield to tighten security at home and avoid public transportation. When transcribed, the harassing voice-mail messages left for Greenfield covered more than 275 single-spaced pages.
Those concerned about the impact of Trump’s incendiary and often inaccurate messages have long sought ways to limit his reach. Cable news networks stopped airing his speeches live. Social media companies adopted new rules to slow the spread of false information. The targets of his bogus election conspiracy theories sued him and his proxies.
Perhaps the most significant move to limit Trump’s audience came after the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the U.S. Capitol: bans on Twitter, Facebook and YouTube, blocking him from some of the most influential social media platforms of the era.
And yet, three years later, a Washington Post analysis shows how those efforts have failed.
Now the presumptive Republican presidential nominee, Trump is as potent a political force as ever, with an army of amplifiers ensuring that his messages — true or untrue — reach a broad swath of the American public."
"Truth Social was estimated to have 5.4 million website visits in the United States in March, with another 800,000 on its app. By comparison, X, which was formerly known as Twitter, claimed more than 200 times that, with over 1 billion visits. Facebook is estimated to have had 3 billion visits in the same period, according to audience tracking firm Similarweb. Even though Trump has now been reinstated on the larger platforms, he has stuck with Truth Social, a platform that gives him greater freedom but a far more limited reach.
Yet despite its relatively small user base, Truth Social is influential because it sustains the networks of MAGA influencers, culture warriors and election deniers that power the right-wing media and guide the rhetoric and policies of many Republican elected officials. It directly connects Trump to influencers with enormous networks and audiences outside the platform, The Post’s analysis found."
"By “recirculating golden nuggets from Trump, influencers provide the bonding of this media ecosystem,” said Yochai Benkler, a Harvard Law School professor who has long studied propaganda. “The more outrageous and trolling of the libs it is,” added Benkler, “the more attractive it is for those who want to make money and get credibility inside the political community for being a true believer.”
Trump recently praised Truth Social for its effectiveness. “When I put out a statement or message, it is SPREAD all over the place, fast and furious. EVERYBODY SEEMS TO GET WHATEVER I HAVE TO SAY, AND QUICKLY,” he wrote on the platform in early April."
"Influencers such as conservative radio and TV host Mark Levin, former Trump adviser and media commentator Sebastian Gorka, former Trump national security adviser Michael Flynn, and online personalities such as Philip Buchanan, who posts using the handle Catturd, regularly share Trump’s Truth Social posts within the platform and amplify his messages to their massive followings off it. Levin, Gorka, Flynn and Catturd each boast over a million followers on X, and Levin and Gorka host popular podcasts. Levin, Flynn and Buchanan did not respond to requests for comment. Gorka responded by saying, “You are scum and a hack. Go to Hell.”
"One of the reasons Trump has not regularly posted on X is that he wants to create and keep financial value for his Truth Social site, which he carefully tracks, according to people close to him who spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss private conversations.
He has relentlessly tried to promote it, telling his advisers that he wants to break news on the platform to bring in more users. That focus paid off with an early, heady valuation of the company that peaked at more than $10 billion in late March, though shares in parent company Trump Media and Technology Group have fallen sharply since then."
" Philip Buchanan, a 59-year-old living in the panhandle of Florida, is the person behind the social media personality Catturd. Buchanan began tweeting in 2018 as a so-called “Reply Guy,” someone with a small social media following who communicates primarily in the comments section of prominent users. Today, his X account boasts 2.4 million followers, including former Fox host Tucker Carlson, billionaire X owner Elon Musk, Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Ga.) and Donald Trump."
" Buchanan, whose identity was revealed by Rolling Stone and confirmed by The Post, has credited his social media fame with changing his financial life. In January, he told Tucker Carlson, the former Fox News personality who now hosts a show on X, that he bought a new truck, started a podcast and now sells a line of Catturd-branded merchandise. "
​

My mom went missing 6 years ago, after calling me on my 20th birthday.. I miss her every single day... I don't think anyone around me will ever understand how this feels, and I would never wish it for them..
At least when someone dies, you know. You know they are dead, you know where they are buried, you know (hopefully) how they died, you know. And you can feel the pain, and eventually start to heal and move on..
But I'm just stuck here in this place.. 6 years... 6 years of not knowing... 6 years of tearing myself apart and crying to police who didn't care and almost dying and faking my identity to find information and running her missing page on Facebook... 6 years of scammers contacting me to tell me "We have her, and if you pay us a ransom you can get her back before we kill her or send her across the border forever"... 6 years of hell... I just want my mom back....
We never had the easiest life, my mom was homeless and addicted to drugs for as long as I can even remember... But, she was also the kindest, most generous, loving soul I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.. She taught me so much about life, people, and love. She showed me that no matter how hard life gets, you CAN and SHOULD face it with a smile 💕 She taught me that money doesn't buy happiness, and showed me true love when she would dumpster dive for weeks just to find me a nice pair of shoes or a new birthday present, and it didn't matter if it was half broken and probably junk, she spent her time and did what she could to be able to give me a gift, and that's all that mattered. She showed me that no matter what it looks like on the outside, you never judge the person inside. She taught me strength. She was an amazing incredible person, she could just never shake the trauma she endured as a child and by proxy, could never shake the drugs. She didn't deserve this fate...
All her life she was forgotten, walked over, spit on, and generally not loved, cared about, or noticed. She was "just another homeless addict on the streets", nobody ever cared about her.. and now, even in death, she is completely forgotten and thrown away... for 6 years the police didn't care, the homicide investigators in charge of her case were absolutely horrible, they NEVER made any moves or tried to learn anything, and just generally tossed her case away without reason. It took me 6 YEARS, to get someone to care. It took probably hundreds of relentless calls and emails to FINALLY get someone to listen.
But they finally did. They took the 2 investigators off her case, the ones i hadnt heard from in years, and gave it to a new missing person's unit officer. She called me immediately. She apologized several times for the way the previous investigators handled things. You could tell she did not want to throw her colleagues under the bus, but she was very upset and very sorry. She even called me one day to talk about the case for 2 hours, ON HER DAY OFF. I cried, and am almost crying now just thinking of it, she actually cares 😭😭😭
In the last 4 months, she has done more than the other investigators did in 5 years. She found an apartment my mom had started renting shortly before her disappearance, she found out the last day she was there, she found the cleaner who cleaned out the apartment after my mom vanished, and guess what..... the cleaner found a ton of my mom's rings... and she held onto them just in case.... this is so incredibly emotional for me to learn.... my mom was well-known for her rings and jewelry. Like, when I remember her fondly, the biggest thing is seeing her hands full of rings. You know when you're a kid, and certain things about your parents are just so cool to you? That was it. I would play with her rings and spin them around and beg her to keep some, her rings are a huge part of her identity, and she wore usually 1 or more on each finger. When she disappeared, I had 2 of her rings, but I spiraled deep into an alcohol addiction and they both got lost along the way... I had nothing.... now, this investigator has found some of her rings... I don't even know how to handle this...
I miss her so bad... like every single day I wonder about where she is... in my heart I know she is dead... I wonder if maybe she is buried in the fields I drive past... hidden from the world... I wonder if she is in the landfill when I go drop stuff off there... my eyes wander and look for bones even when I don't want to or mean to... I think about her laugh every single day. When I see a news report of remains being found, I am almost excited. I wish for it to be her... that's the most messed up part of this all... what kind of sane person sees a report of a dead body being found, and HOPES that it's their own mother????..... Someone living in constant hell, that's who...
I just want to give her the love and respect she deserves, the same love she showed perfect strangers without condition. The same love she exuded out of every pore. She LITERALLY gave her shirt to an old homeless man in the cold and walked for 4 blocks in a bra because "that guy needed it more than her and she could find another one, but he couldn't". That's a real story I witnessed with my own eyes and have burned in my head because I walked through downtown with my mom in a bra lol... it was horrifyingly embarrassing at the time, but turned out to change my entire view on the world... Just like how I used to hate they way she would talk to ANYONE, on the bus? Hey stranger! On the street? Hey stranger! She was so happy and outgoing and social and it always embarassed me so bad, I'd tell her to "stop mom! I just want to go where we are going not talk to every stranger"... Well guess who talks to every stranger now? This girl. Guess who misses those moments so bad she would go back in time and slap herself for being embarassed? This girl... Her love was beautiful and given freely. she just doesn't deserve this fate...
I love her so much... I just want her back....
My life has never been better besides all this... I got sober 3 years ago, bought a home, and am now a small business owner... I will get married to my boyfriend eventually, and have children. They will never know her, she will never see me get married... she will never see the beautiful home we bought, or the business I have started from the ground up... she wont see these beautiful things.... that breaks my heart.... I know she is with me, and always will be. But it's still something that makes me dreadfully sad... even when my life is nothing but amazing... she's still gone and I don't know why or where...

Let’s get the obvious out of the way.
Being a PI sucks. It’s not what you think. It’s pretty much harassing women. Men hire PIs to go harass their wives and girlfriends and once in a blue moon you get asked to find a missing dog, or to harass a man instead. But that’s it, really. Sometimes I’m looking for hard evidence of infidelity, but a lot of the time my clients just want to rattle the soon-to-be-ex. To make them paranoid and jittery and less reliable in a courtroom, or less likely to pay attention to small print agreements that stiff them out of the holiday home. So that’s my job. I’m a pawn and it is almost always on behalf of the kind of men who think women reading a book in public are secretly looking for male attention.
I don’t have an office. I did for a short while. But things are tough, as I’m sure many of you know, and PI work isn’t exactly lucrative. I don’t know why I’m still doing this job, except to say I’m my own boss, and it’s not easy out there. I went into this with vastly different expectations. If anyone wants to hire someone who was convicted of insurance fraud while training to be a police officer, let me know. Otherwise I’m on my own, following people in cars and sleeping in dingy motels. So when someone reached out looking for a guy to stalk them, I just figured it was a fetish thing. I got a nephew who went to art school and makes big bucks painting cartoon characters doing fucked up stuff. He ain’t painting the Sistine Chapel, but he pays the bills and looks after his family. I figure if that work is good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.
So I met the woman and was surprised at how normal she looked. It was in a public place, a park with a nice bench. And even though it was starting to rain a little we didn’t let it bother either of us. We sat there, two tape recorders running, and hashed it out. She said she liked me. If she hadn’t she wouldn’t have gotten out of her car. That was flattering coming from her. Good looking woman. Professional. I didn’t know at the time but I’d quickly figure out she was a forensic accountant.
Anyway, we got talking. She never gave me her motivation, but I would later come to understand her as an amateur narcissist. She was new at loving herself. She was smart, accomplished, and actually rather beautiful provided you didn’t spend a great deal of time agonising over things like symmetry or eyebrows, and instead paid attention to how a smile reaches the eyes, or how laughter sounds when it catches someone by surprise. But she grew up dirt poor and spent her teen years unable to visit the dentist, or access a gym, or even just eat home cooked food that wasn’t microwaved. Plump frame, blotchy skin, hair she kept short with a pair of scissors because her and her mother relied on the shampoo and soap they stole from the motel where they shared cleaning shifts. When she fumbled awkward questions at some of the better looking boys in her class, she rarely met with success. That’s not to say she was an outcast, either. She had a social life. It’s just poor kids have to grow up early. Prom’s a luxury. Eating isn’t. If you know, you know. Otherwise you might be surprised by just how fucking tough it can be for some kids in this country. Anyway, she got out of that hole, fought tooth and nail, got an education, a good job, and by the time she finished her victory lap and took stock of her life she was thirty-five years old and a thousand miles from the trailer she was raised in.
And she looked good. The woman in the mirror was a stranger that she wanted to get to know. I think hiring me was an act of self-love. I think if she could have, she would have sat in a car and watched herself get a cup of coffee, spying closely at the professional looking woman doing a little half-run half-skip to get out of the rain. The way she stood in line rocking back and forth on her heels to the music in her airpods thinking no one’d notice. She wanted to admire herself, but unable to time travel or clone herself, she instead resorted to hiring me as a kind of proxy.
I had my own boundaries, of course. They covered anything that was gonna get me in trouble. The gist of the contract, after a nice week spent meeting after work and talking, was that I was to follow her as often as I could and just… observe her. Photos. Videos. Secret recordings. Occasionally a little bit more. Nothing physical. For example, one time I inventoried her handbag after she left it in a taxi by accident. I’m not a photographer, but something about all those knick knacks laid out on a motel bed snapped with a black and white polaroid, it looked good. Like something you’d see in a fancy gallery. Avant garde my nephew would say. She loved it. Paid me a bonus for it and everything.
Anyway, this carried on like this for about six months. They were… interesting times. Tailing her across train stations, racing across open parking lots to install a tracker on her car, standing on a bridge and dropping an air tag in her bag as she walked past. It was a little bit like being a spy. She even paid for me to buy high end equipment. Crazy stuff. One camera, I could sit on my balcony and read the texts on her phone from a block away. Occasionally there were days where I couldn’t or wouldn’t keep up the required intensity. Stalking requires a lot of cardio. When that happened, when I didn’t feel like following her into a crowded place, or sprinting half-way around town following her car, I’d do research. I’d investigate who this woman had once been. I created fake Facebook profiles and tracked down old school friends, spoke to former teachers, lovers, all of that. The whole job was a matter of mapping her out, like she was a country, you know? And a country isn’t just hills and rivers and borders. Countries have history.
She was happy with my initiative. The text she sent me when I showed her the research folder was a glowing commendation. First one I’d had in a long time. It was nice, someone telling me good job. She had a real way of making me feel like a kid getting a gold star. I didn’t realise at the time, but I was putty in her hands. Head over heels, bless my stupid heart. Of course I didn’t know what I was getting into, but I’d had just enough time to grow over confident. I made the mistake of thinking that I wasn’t gonna find anything in her past that’d give me trouble sleeping.
Boy did I get that one fucking wrong.
Her mother. That’s where things took an odd turn. Now I knew from news reports the mother died in their trailer while her daughter was off staying at some boyfriend’s place for a few days. Natural causes, it read. I wanted to know a little more about what natural causes they were. Figured if there was a congenital thing, it seemed like maybe I ought to know. You’d think the way the trailer park owner reacted to me asking about it, I’d tried asking the Russian government for proof of a democratic election. Thin reedy little woman who gave me hell the moment I mentioned a name. What do you wanna know that for? Who’s asking? Who’s paying you? Why you wanna dig this shit up?
Oh she ripped me to pieces. I put it down to the natural sprinkling of crazies in the standard population and took a different tact. Started calling up the older folks in the park. Residents. Every single one of them put the phone down on me the second I mentioned her name.
Well, all of them except one.
Some people wanna talk and this old bastard was one of them. He had a lot to say about everything from the president to social media and I let him ramble on before starting to press my point. Told him at the start I was a historian looking into the local area, that made it so it wasn’t too suspicious when I began asking about this and that. Slowly making my way to the death of a fifty-three year old woman a couple trailers down from him some years ago.
Again, soon as I mentioned her name, there was a change in the air, even over the phone. For a second I thought this old guy was gonna hang up just like the others. Could hear him smacking his dry lips as he mulled it over.
“Francine didn’t deserve what happened to her,” he said after a while. “She wasn’t a good woman. Didn’t treat her daughter too good neither. But didn’t deserve what happened. Maybe if they’d found her earlier, some of those fellas in white coats could’ve got more evidence, put that little wretch of hers away. But from what I understand, weren’t much left of her at all.”
Then he hung up, leaving me with a whole lot of questions.
This frustrated me. I had, until now, had a fair bit of luck at this new profession of mine. They say be careful what you get good at. Sad truth was, I was getting good at stalking and this was my first real roadblock. I remembered the way I felt when she told me good job and it bothered me I couldn’t really say much about this critical part of her life. That and, well, maybe I still got a chip on my shoulder about being a failed policeman. If you give me a problem, I can sometimes drive myself crazy looking for a fix.
So I hopped in my car and drove to the trailer park, damn near on the other side of the country. Don’t know I was hoping to find. No way the trailer was still there, and it wasn’t. But what I found odd was the lot hadn’t been replaced. There was a hole in the ground, about the right size, and nothing else. Just an empty spot where the trailer had once stood. And the trailers on either side weren’t occupied either. I could tell by politely and legally looking through the windows. Most of them were cleared out, but a few weren’t. They still had plates and other knick knacks left hanging around, like the owners had left without bothering to pack.
“You shouldn’t hang around there, mister.”
The girl who appeared stood a good twenty feet away, shouting over the wind so as to be heard.
“Smell can make you awful sick.”
I wrinkled my nose, aware of the odour she was talking about. Had been since I approached the empty lot. A faint musty smell that made me think of an exotic pet shop.
“What do you mean?”
“Smell makes you sick,” she said like it was self-explanatory. “Woman who died there left behind an awful stench. Made the neighbours sick. And the neighbour’s neighbours, and so on for a couple trailers in a row. No one likes to live there now. Still can’t. Had a couple move in a year or two back and they got sick too. Daddy says it’s a bad one. Not even rats go near that hole.”
The smell wasn’t pretty, but this trailer park looked like the kinda place where hubcaps went missing regularly. Figured they would’ve been used to bad smells. What made this one so special?
I looked over at the girl.
“Where is your dad?”
Few minutes later and I was stood outside a trailer waiting pensively. The little girl had disappeared inside to fetch her father and since then I’d been sat listening to the quietest trailer park in the whole world. Crickets and silence. Traffic on a distant highway. Place was dying, that much was clear.
When the father finally did make an appearance, he said nothing for the first few minutes. Lit a cigarette, offered me one. I refused on account of having quit some time back.
After a while he spoke up.
“I’d invite you in but if you been hanging around that old lot, not sure I want you inside my home. No offence.”
“None taken,” I replied.
“Sally says you’re a historian.”
The man wasn’t terribly old. Mid-thirties, at a guess, but he looked me up and down like I was a teenager caught throwing eggs at his house.
“What’re you really?”
“PI,” I replied.
“Ha now that makes sense. Some relative looking for answers? Heard the Hendersons had a sister with money.”
“That’s exactly it,” I lied. “She didn’t buy the official story.”
“Nor should she,” he replied. “Henderson was fit as a fiddle day he moved in. Weren’t no justice in what happened to those who got sick. And poor Francine… They say she died of natural causes. Man even back then I knew it was shit and I was just a lil kid. The smell alone. Think it’s bad now but at the time, before they came in with a crane to lift the trailer up whole and move it to the dump. Shit it was something awful. There was talk of moving the whole park. Course no one gave enough of a shit about us to go ahead and actually do it.”
“What did she die of?”
“Don’t know. Only thing I am sure of is that that girl of Francine’s lied. Said her mother was live and well when she left before the weekend and they was all on good terms, but that was bullshit. We heard ‘em fighting for weeks before, for one. And of course the body, state that was in, ain’t no way it’d been rotting for just a few days.”
He offered me another cigarette. I refused. He lit it up instead. Second one in what felt like just a few minutes. Made me itchy just to see. I wanted to say something, anything to get a little bit more. But I’d told a big lie pretending to be there on someone else’s behalf, and didn’t want to catch myself out, so I just sat and listened to the quiet buzz of his little patio light.
After the second cigarette was done he reached into his back pocket and took out an old photo.
“I hope you find justice for Henderson and the rest of them,” he said. “Only real bit of proof I ever had something fishy went on.”
He handed me the picture. Wasn’t easy to see what I was looking at. Pile of old leaves, maybe. Mulch. I squinted at it for a few good seconds but couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
“What…?”
“Took that the day they arrived to get rid of the trailer. Had to stand on my friend’s shoulders just to reach.”
“What is it?” I asked, my skin starting to crawl as I picked out details. Whatever I was looking at, it was slumped on a sofa with floral wallpaper in the background. It was about the size of a man, but riddled with holes and cavities the size of golf balls. In my whole life, I’d never seen something that looked like that.
“Why that’s Francine,” he said. “Or at least what was left of her.”
He let me keep the photo. At a guess, that was the only interesting thing that’d ever happened to that man and he’d been waiting to share it with someone. All I had to do was give him an excuse. He seemed to take some pleasure in passing it on. Certainly found my reaction to it amusing. I must’ve gone pale as I grappled with thoughts of what had happened to make a body go bad like that. Back in the hotel, under a good light, I checked that picture again and again. Something about it made me deeply uncomfortable. Knowing a woman was under all that… all those holes and crevices must’ve been made in her flesh. And what’d happened to her skin that’d turned it such a funny texture? Looked furry, like the kinda thing that grows on top of a long-forgotten cup of coffee.
A part of me considered asking my client about this, but I knew that wasn’t the way to go. First, she probably wouldn’t tell me good job if I had to ask. She hired me to do a certain thing and that didn’t involve politely requesting information right from the source. Second, well… I’d read the police reports, what was publicly available, anyway. And she’d made it clear she’d left on the friday and came home on the Monday and…
Well what if that guy was right? Did she really leave her mother alive and well? I mean, people kill. Not just psychos. People like you and me. We do it every day and sometimes we even pull it off. Only half of US murders get solved. That’s a fact. If anyone could be in the right half of that equation, it’d be her. She was smart as hell, my client. Even at seventeen she would’ve been a clever one. Clever enough that she might easily have been able to cover her tracks. Gone over to some boyfriend, twisted his arm into giving her an alibi. Sure, I could see that.
I just needed to figure out what the fuck was going on with that crime scene in the trailer. Thankfully I got some friends still on the force, one of which I even have a bit of leverage on. At first he couldn’t find much on the actual mother, but then I asked him to see if he could take the photo I had, show it around, and see if anyone had seen something like it before. That proved a lot more fruitful. Few days later he came back with a strange one, but straight away I saw the connection.
I’ll spare the details. Old man was found in a tub, all sorts of fucked up, in some old apartment building. It had since been condemned on account of the body which is fairly weird since bodies don’t usually cause that much fuss, but less weird when you realise that said body was in such a bad state it made three people sick and caused long-lasting structural damage. Whatever happened to this guy, it ate through the tub he’d been lying in and seeped into the floors and walls below. Turned plasterboard to shit and apparently even caused some trouble for the sturdier elements like steel and concrete. I don’t know how that works exactly, but that’s what the file said and going by the photos, I didn’t feel like anyone was lying.
As for the pictures? What can I say? Made my fucking skin crawl. No blurry little polaroid snapped by a kid. These were professional crime scene pictures that showed something in a bathtub that didn’t register as human until my eyes went looking for details. He looked like a hairy paper-wasp’s nest, only there were fingers and nipples and other little things that made it clear it had been built using a person as the framework. No face though. Just a head like a pile of used paper plates. Looking at those photos made me learn a new word just to describe how I felt. Trypophobia.
Wasn’t just the one guy either. Building was linked to the disappearance of the ground floor tenant. Some computer geek. I didn’t worry about him too much. But what did catch my eye was there was only one woman living in the whole place. Second floor apartment. The registered name was… somewhat familiar. Close enough to a certain someone’s that it raised the hairs on my neck. Police at the scene managed to get a photo of her and sure enough, there she was. My client going by a different name. Clearly something fishy was going on or else why the pseudonym? I figured it possible she’d maybe offed her own mother. Parents and spouses make the most common victims. But what connection was there to that second corpse, and what about the missing guy?
It was like a horror movie was following her around and she was just blissfully unaware. Condemned buildings and festering trailers made for a far cry from the professional accountant who enjoyed oat milk lattes and used sweetener instead of sugar to spare her teeth. But there was no denying she was the connection. There was photographic proof she’d lived in that building. If I wanted to get ahead of this, to really understand what was going on, I had to figure out what had happened to those bodies. I’d pretty much exhausted my favours with the police and truth was they didn’t know any more than I did. But it turned out the building was still standing. Condemned, but they hadn’t demolished it, partly because no one wanted to take responsibility, but I reckon it might have had something to do with the biohazard warnings slapped on every single window and door.
Good thing I’d brought a gas mask. I waited for sunset, geared up, and entered through the unlocked door. First thing that hit me as the door swung open was the smell. Similar to the trailer park but full pelt and hot as hell. Made me think of lizards and poorly kept terrariums. Strong enough to make my eyes water even through the mask. One thing was clear as I took a look around the hallway - the building was diseased. Not just rundown or decrepit like the usual urban decay. This was something else. Looked like the inside of a clogged pipe. You know how limescale fills it up? It was a bit like that. This oily rust coloured fluid had seeped down the walls and left them glistening and soft. Ropey stalactites of the stuff hung down from the ceiling like old party banners, and I edged around them afraid of what might happen if one touched me.
Best guess was that stuff was digesting the place. Anything soft or organic was going or gone. Old umbrella frames were left standing in one corner, the fabric burnt or dissolved away. The carpet was reduced to just a few patches no bigger than my hand. And a bunch of old cardboard boxes piled up under the stairs had turned squat and half-liquid, almost flowing down and around each other. The worst came when I took a look in the back room. More of a broom closet, I guess. Wouldn't have gone in but something caught my eye. A well-worn shoe that wasn’t covered in that oily shit. Sign of recent activity. That and the way the door was ajar just raised my suspicions, so I took a look.
Even now the timeline eludes me, but someone, a vagrant most likely given the way they were dressed, died a nasty death in there. Chemical burns come to mind. They were balled up in one corner, eyeless, looking up at me as I pushed the door open to take a closer look. Pink flesh threaded with red blood vessels, yellow bones poking through here and there. From the looks of things they’d been trying to work the door open. You could see a history of their escape attempts left by bleeding hands. Rust coloured finger streaks ran all along the door’s edges, special attention paid to the hinges. And he’d broken the only window and tried hauling himself up there only to realise it was barred from the other side. The jagged glass that still clung to the frame was covered in old blood. His palms must have looked like grated cheese. Eventually he’d given up and lain down in that shit and the thought of it made my chest feel heavy and tight. I’d only been in the building a few minutes and that shit was already eating through my shoes. I could hear the thick rubber soles sizzle and pop with each step. But that guy had been forced to sit down in an inch deep puddle of the stuff, likely because exhaustion had left him no choice but to tough it out. So how long had he tried staying up right?
Hours? Days? Weeks?
Him getting stuck in there had to be deliberate. I was sure of it. A feeling in my gut. Someone had locked the door behind him and left him to die slowly. God only knows why, but did that mean they were still hanging around and waiting for a chance to get to me? Looking around, I sure didn’t feel safe or alone. The shadows seemed too deep and the steady drip drip drip of that rancid oil oozing out of every surface was too monotonous. Someone or something lived in that filth and chances were they’d been responsible for that poor vagrant’s agonising death.
That meant getting out of that shithole was a priority, so I made for the stairs and started the climb. If there were any answers in that place, it’d be in the apartment where that old man died. The crime scene tape was still hanging off the door frame when I found it, and the TV and sofa, or what remained of them, stood in the same place as in the photos. Back in the day the old man had been a hoarder and I was surprised crime scene hadn’t cleared all his shit out. It was all still there, only what had once been a chest high maze of papers and magazines was now just a kind of hardened pulp, almost like magma dried mid-flow. Whole fucking place was covered in the stuff like a coral reef, growing up the walls and even patches of the ceiling. Looked a hell of a lot like a wasp’s nest, and it looked to be the source of that oily looking fluid. You could see it sweating out of every crease and fold in that strange hive. It was almost hypnotic to look at. Glistening amber beads oozing out of papery sheets that flowed like rock striata. There was a gentle, barely perceptible rhythm. Hypnotic.
I don’t know why but I reached out and ran the tip of my finger as gently as I could along the surface. It felt like the underside of a mushroom. All those papery gills. Gossamer thin. Soft and inviting. I wore no gloves and the brief moment of contact had deposited a single bead of that strange syrup on my fingertip. It caused a tingling sensation that was not entirely unpleasant. Even the blood that trickled down my knuckle felt warm and wet, like testing a hot bath with your hand. I liked it. I liked it and I wanted more.
I went to reach out and push my arm into the nest when a hand burst out of the nest and gripped my wrist. I was so surprised I didn’t even make a noise, but instead wordlessly fell back as the hand pushed me away from the nest. A very nearly skinless forearm followed and soon after a face emerged from the papery nest like a grime covered nightmare. Black eyes and a lipless mouth. It was a man that could have passed for a corpse, like a half-digested piece of meat. Terrified, I struggled to my feet and realised that this person had broken damn near every bone in my wrist with that single grip.
“Your meat smells raw,” he growled before heaving himself out of the nest in a disgusting parody of childbirth.
My sanity flickered and the next thing I knew I was on the ground floor with bleeding eyes and both hands frantically pulling at the door handle. My mind returned in pieces. I blinked red tears away but didn’t stop trying to open the door. I felt it, that urgent need to leave, like a suffocating man feels the need to breathe. But I’d fucked up bad. I’d sniffed out the closet and saw the trap laid there, but hadn’t seen the larger one set for me. There was only one way in and out of that building and I hadn’t jammed the door open! Now it was shut and nothing I did could get it open. With more time maybe I could’ve pried the jamb or even kicked it down, but my heart was racing and my vision blurring. I wanted out of that place. A hot primal need to get the hell out. The air was too hot. My mask too stifling. Sweat condensed on the inner plastic and made it damn near impossible to see. And the pain in my wrist was a throbbing explosion that made sensible thought impossible. I’d realised early on into my little foray that I was underprepared, but the scale of what that meant eluded me until I was there wrestling with thoughts of exposure and contagion and disease, fumbling at a greasy doorknob with a broken hand while suppressing thoughts of what might be crawling up my leg or back or neck. Panic threatened to consume me. The world and all the normality it represented was right fucking there. I could hear it. The distant hum of traffic. The amber glow of streetlights that lit up the biohazard posters. Not thirty minutes ago I’d been there. Safe and far away from this waking nightmare.
I was being reduced to a prey animal. Even in the moment I could sense it happening to me. Being made into something lesser, but it was like my actions were no longer my own. When I finally gave up on the front door, I turned around and saw the shadows way back at the hallway begin to shift as something descended the stairwell. There was no other way out. No door. No window. Just me, a long corridor, and a nightmare coming right at me.
Something inside me gave up. I don’t know how to describe it. I’m still not sure if it was that building and that strange fluid that seemed to warp my own thoughts, or maybe there’s just too much one person can go through. But I could practically hear the thin membrane of my sanity tear as I fell backwards into the door and slid down onto my ass, breathlessly awaiting my terrible fate. I almost contemplated turning off my light but by then it was too late. I could see him coming towards me. He was legless. Nothing from the waist down except blackened viscera trailing up the stairs behind him. He pulled himself towards hand over hand with hungry eyes. Before I knew it he was on top of me, one hand gripping my mouth with a salty palm, the other stroking my hair.
And then in an instant his demeanour changed. He pulled back with a terrified cry and scrambled away like I’d just stuck him with a blade.
“No no no no no,” he muttered. “No no you should have said you should have said I didn’t know I thought you were another one I didn’t know I thought you were here for me I didn’t know you were hers.”
He cowered away, pedalling on both hands backwards while keeping his eyes fixed on me.
“Tell her I did not know you were hers I could not smell until I was close very close if I hurt you I am sorry tell her I am sorry I did not mean to hurt you it is just I do not get to eat often and am always hungry.”
With a rapid gesture he threw the key for the door at me. It skittered across the floor and fell just short of my feet.
“Tell her I did not know.”
“W-w-w-what are you?” I stammered.
He looked at me curiously, stopping his retreat only briefly to gauge my expression.
“She likes to be seen but I looked without asking and I got what I deserve.”
“Who are you talking about?” I asked.
He very nearly laughed, but with such deformities it was mostly a drooling guffaw.
“You know!” he gasped. “Don’t be stupid. You’re in love with her. Just like me. But different. You got permission. I didn’t. But she was good. She left me an old nest to live in. And I have permission to eat anything I kill or trap myself. Hard now that people know to stay away but sometimes I get lucky.”
His eyes flicked to the closet with sickening hunger.
“What has this got to do with her?” I asked.
“What colour are her eyes?” he replied, almost manic with excitement. “Answer. Answer. Tell me. Tell me. What colour are her eyes?”
“G–”
I stopped. The word felt wrong in my mouth.
“Bl–
“Bro–”
“No no,” he chittered. “None of those.”
Seemingly excited but afraid, he raced forward momentarily and gripped my lapels with twisted glee.
“Compound,” he hissed with such forbidden pleasure. “Her eyes are compound. She’s jealous of us, you know?
“Jealous we get to love her.”
And then he disappeared into the darkness and something inside me gave way entirely and I passed out.
I don’t know much of what came after, exactly. I was found a few hours later in my car, idling at a traffic light. I’d made some effort at getting away on my own but didn’t get very far. No surprise here but I got sick as a dog going in that place. A deep chest infection. The kind that scares everyone at least once in their life. Only fair given how fucking stupid I was. But forgive me, I hadn’t anticipated nightmares beyond human comprehension. I challenge anybody to think that fucking far ahead. You think junkies. You think flies. Squatters. But that guy… that man slipping out of the nest and barrelling towards me on two hands. My mind going sizzle pop along with the soles on my boots. In real life, shit like that always sneaks up on you.
So I paid the price. Six months. Jesus. Six long months. I got every fever you can think of. Sepsis. Kidney failure. Liver failure. Month after month drowning in my own fluids, coughing up shit that made the nurses gag and leave. I asked the doctor what the long term effects will be and he winced before reading a list of things that didn’t leave much hope for a happy retirement. And if it was hard on my body, it was even worse on my mind. Those fever dreams… doctors say what I remember in that building, that was all just part of the sickness. Say I spent a good three days in a coma and strange dreams are the norm. Which I might accept if it weren’t the fucking skin graft still healing on my right hand. No one can explain that.
My client visited. Just the once. There are universally sad moments in life and one of them is realising someone you have a lot of affection for doesn’t have it back. They have some. Just not the same amount. It was always one way though, wasn’t it? I saw her every single day but if I was doing my job right, she only saw me once a month for our meetings. Our arrangement ended not long after, so I hope anyway. She left like it was nothing but me… ah Jesus it felt like someone excavated my heart right out. Even after what she told me why she was there, even after what I did, I could barely stand up straight I was so heartbroken. There were times after that I wished the sickness would just take me. Maybe that defeatism is why it got so bad. Who knows?
She came to me looking for a recommendation, of all things. She wasn’t cold. Far from it. But there was a sense of disappointment as she sat beside me and eyed me up.
“I liked the initiative,” she said after a while. “But the results leave me unimpressed.”
“What the fuck happened in that place?” I asked, and even though I could barely hear my own voice, she seemed like she heard every word. For a moment, the way she contemplated it, I thought I was gonna get a straight answer.
“You know my mother said men don’t see ugly women. They know they exist but they just poof them right outta their mind. Like a magic trick. She said we worked better being a little plain. Good enough to take home for a night. Any more and we’d start to leave problems everywhere we go. That guy was a problem. She was trying to warn me about the dangers of attention but silly me, I went and got addicted. I hoped with you there might be a degree of… separation. Infatuation on a contractual basis.”
She took a deep breath like she’d had a long hard day.
“I don’t know. Maybe Mom was right. It’s ridiculous, I suppose. The fly shouldn’t admire the spider. It either sees it and fears it, or doesn’t know what’s coming until it’s too late. I think Mom was telling me to go for the latter. It’s no fun being invisible though. You spent all that time looking at me. Following me. What did you see?”
I looked at her until my eyes watered and something throbbed in my skull.
“I don’t know,” I tried to lie.
“Be honest.”
She looked right at me and something in the air changed. I don’t know what. Hot. Jesus it was hot. Like looking at the sun. I remember the heart rate monitor going nuts and then… then I remember gossamer wings and serrated chitin. A tick on the inside of your cheek. A leech on your tongue. A horsehair worm that won’t leave the skin. And then an instant later my eyes refocused and there was just a normal woman in front of me.
“Someone I could have loved,” I answered, unable to stop the words spilling like vomit. “Someone who I thought deserved love.”
“See,” she said. “Who wouldn’t like your version better?”
I was crying again. Heart racing. World like butter, going soft at the edges. Whatever she did, it was like undergoing brain surgery in real time.
“I’d like a recommendation,” she said after another minute or two of silence. “I’d like to see myself. I look in the mirror and I don’t see what you do. I’d like an artist to paint me. A version of me, at least. It won’t be easy on them. All this time you’ve probably looked directly at me for no more than five, ten minutes in total. Just didn’t realise it. Always the back of my head or my hair obscuring just so. That won’t do. I want a portrait. I want to know what you see.”
“What will you do to them?”
“I won’t do anything. Not intentionally. But if you ask someone to paint the sun, expect them to go blind. Whoever paints me will be painting the sun in their living room. Going blind is the least of their problems. Now, fess up. You know someone. You mentioned them once in passing. A cousin, maybe. An artist in need of cash. I’m sure of it.”
“Why would I tell you anything?”
“Because you love me,” she said. “And because despite everything you will get better and you will come back to me. Year or two, I think. You are adamant I have no hold on you, and you will think that for a long time. And this period of freedom, you’ll enjoy it only by my good grace and mercy. You did a good job. Better than any before. I’ve read your notes and reports over and over and seen details of myself I didn’t even know were there. It’s a thing of beauty, what you did. And one day soon you’ll come back to me with some excuse for why you want the contract to continue.”
I tried to spit the word never but managed, at best, a weak shake of the head. Something that put a most peculiar smile on her face.
“It doesn’t work like that. It’d be like trying to brute force your way through Alzheimer’s. You’ll be back. Even now you’re mine. All mine. I’m just being gentle. And you’re going to give me the name and number of this artist because even though you know I could no more love you than a spider loves the fly, you are desperate to please me. Because when I broke the man in that apartment building. When I tore him in two and told him that he would live for as long as I desired, writhing without air for years and years, drowning in sickly fluids and trapped helplessly in a hive he is determined to maintain even though I wouldn't be caught dead going back there. He was grateful. And, with time, you’ll be grateful too.”
She put the pen in my hand. She smiled, mouthed the word good boy, and God help me…
I gave her my nephew’s number.

Tbs has teamed up with Gagaoolala to bring us our next JBL.

Where to Watch ╰┈➤Gagaoolala Episode 3

Extras Youtube Playlist

🎬Story 🎥

https://preview.redd.it/z093aggop7yc1.jpg?width=928&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=217c26ed480197b0b4d76dd8317dddb3cc811538
Adapted from the ongoing 5-volume manga series 25時、赤坂で (25 Ji, Akasaka de) by 夏野寛子 (Natsuno Hiroko). It started in 2018 and is serialized in OnBlue.
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https://preview.redd.it/gepqtcvqp7yc1.jpg?width=6912&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=c1a5e912b780aad62527a623d2ac90b0e1b1d7be

When Shirasaki, an underdog stage actor, gets cast in a gay drama series, he is surprised to learn that he will be working with Hayama, his charming clubmate from university who is now a popular actor. During production, Shirasaki realizes that he will need some inspiration and goes to find some where the local gay people hang out. What he didn't expect was to meet Hayama there, which eventually leads to a drunken kiss. He soon finds himself confused and conflicted about his feelings as he struggles to keep his emotions contained on-screen…(Source: Gagaoolala)

Teaser 🎞 Trailer

🎬Cast and Crew 🎥

• Director ➢Horie Takahiro 🎭X🎭
• Director ➢Kawasaki Ryo 🎭IG🎭X 🎭FB🎭 worked as a Screenwriter on Naked Dining and Director on Minato's Coin Laundry Season 2 and Strawberry Film
• Screenwriter ➢Aso Kumiko worked on a long list of dramas since 2006

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https://preview.redd.it/tg8ltjosp7yc1.jpg?width=300&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=205dabf5de387cd8d6da7603e68ba54f56f57b02
Niihara Taisuke as Shirasaki Yuki🎭IG🎭X🎭

 (Supporting roles in Eternal Yesterday, Sempai This Cannot be Love, and The Gods' Favorites) 

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https://preview.redd.it/ckmu5kgtp7yc1.jpg?width=300&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=fcde51995911d8c6955cdda3ce882261a42eac83

• Komagine Kiita as Hayama Asami 🎭IG🎭X🎭Tiktok🎭 Youtube🎭

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https://preview.redd.it/ceyaah6up7yc1.jpg?width=300&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=38acbb0c4a96c145151660c4ef8459cadb819d51

(A variety of roles including Kamen Rider) 

• Usa Takuma as Sakuma Hajime 🎭IG🎭X🎭Tiktok🎭 Youtube🎭

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KissXKissXKiss Shower {Fever Kiss} & {Ageless Kiss} KissXKissXKiss Melting Night {Nursing Kiss} {Secret Kiss} and A Man Who Defies the World of BL 

• Nagumo Shoma as Yamase Kazuma 🎭IG🎭X🎭Tiktok🎭

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KissXKissXKiss {Atelier Kiss} {Growth Kiss}, Minato's Coin Laundry Season 1 

• Hashimoto Atsushi as Shinoda Shota 🎭IG🎭X🎭
• Katayama Moemi as Akeno Kei 🎭IG🎭X🎭
• Shinohara Yushin as Mihara Nozomu 🎭X🎭

🎬Music 🎥

Opening 赫赫(Kakkaku) by 鯨木(KUJIRAGI) 🎧Youtube 🎧Youtube music 🎧Spotify 🎧Apple
Closing 東京ナイトロンリー by Mel

🎬General Info 🎥

• Complete Information ➢ MDL &BLD
• Other Names ➢25 Ji, Akasaka de, 25時、赤坂で
• Country➢ Japan
• Episodes➢10
• Airs➢ Apr 19, 2024 - ?
• Airs On➢ Friday
• Duration: 30 min.
• Production Company ➢TBS
• Social Media ➢website 🎭IG🎭X🎭

🎬Goods 🎥

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https://preview.redd.it/lzqlt8nwp7yc1.jpg?width=481&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f6834d6e019847461099bc4b28b5f188d8b07798
https://www.manga10.com/ip/686
We have goods up for the series at Manga 10. There isn't much for the drama yet but there is a bunch for the manga. As always you will need a proxy service to order unless you are in Japan.

Let’s get the obvious out of the way.
Being a PI sucks. It’s not what you think. It’s pretty much harassing women. Men hire PIs to go harass their wives and girlfriends and once in a blue moon you get asked to find a missing dog, or to harass a man instead. But that’s it, really. Sometimes I’m looking for hard evidence of infidelity, but a lot of the time my clients just want to rattle the soon-to-be-ex. To make them paranoid and jittery and less reliable in a courtroom, or less likely to pay attention to small print agreements that stiff them out of the holiday home. So that’s my job. I’m a pawn and it is almost always on behalf of the kind of men who think women reading a book in public are secretly looking for male attention.
I don’t have an office. I did for a short while. But things are tough, as I’m sure many of you know, and PI work isn’t exactly lucrative. I don’t know why I’m still doing this job, except to say I’m my own boss, and it’s not easy out there. I went into this with vastly different expectations. If anyone wants to hire someone who was convicted of insurance fraud while training to be a police officer, let me know. Otherwise I’m on my own, following people in cars and sleeping in dingy motels. So when this new job came along, a craigslist ad looking for a guy to stalk them, I just figured it was a fetish thing. I got a nephew who went to art school and makes big bucks painting cartoon characters doing fucked up stuff. He ain’t painting the Sistine Chapel, but he pays the bills and looks after his family. I figure if that work is good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.
So I met the woman who posted the ad and was surprised at how normal she looked. It was in a public place, a park with a nice bench. And even though it was starting to rain a little we didn’t let it bother either of us. We sat there, two tape recorders running, and hashed it out. She said she liked me. If she hadn’t she wouldn’t have gotten out of her car. That was flattering coming from her. Good looking woman. Professional. I didn’t know at the time but I’d quickly figure out she was a forensic accountant.
Anyway, we got talking. She never gave me her motivation, but I would later come to understand her as an amateur narcissist. She was new at loving herself. She was smart, accomplished, and actually rather beautiful provided you didn’t spend a great deal of time agonising over things like symmetry or eyebrows, and instead paid attention to how a smile reaches the eyes, or how laughter sounds when it catches someone by surprise. But she grew up dirt poor and spent her teen years unable to visit the dentist, or access a gym, or even just eat home cooked food that wasn’t microwaved. Plump frame, blotchy skin, hair she kept short with a pair of scissors because her and her mother relied on the shampoo and soap they stole from the motel where they shared cleaning shifts. When she fumbled awkward questions at some of the better looking boys in her class, she rarely met with success. That’s not to say she was an outcast, either. She had a social life. It’s just poor kids have to grow up early. Prom’s a luxury. Eating isn’t. If you know, you know. Otherwise you might be surprised by just how fucking tough it can be for some kids in this country. Anyway, she got out of that hole, fought tooth and nail, got an education, a good job, and by the time she finished her victory lap and took stock of her life she was thirty-five years old and a thousand miles from the trailer she was raised in.
And she looked good. The woman in the mirror was a stranger that she wanted to get to know. I think hiring me was an act of self-love. I think if she could have, she would have sat in a car and watched herself get a cup of coffee, spying closely at the professional looking woman doing a little half-run half-skip to get out of the rain. The way she stood in line rocking back and forth on her heels to the music in her airpods thinking no one’d notice. She wanted to admire herself, but unable to time travel or clone herself, she instead resorted to hiring me as a kind of proxy.
I had my own boundaries, of course. They covered anything that was gonna get me in trouble. The gist of the contract, after a nice week spent meeting after work and talking, was that I was to follow her as often as I could and just… observe her. Photos. Videos. Secret recordings. Occasionally a little bit more. Nothing physical. For example, one time I inventoried her handbag after she left it in a taxi by accident. I’m not a photographer, but something about all those knick knacks laid out on a motel bed snapped with a black and white polaroid, it looked good. Like something you’d see in a fancy gallery. Avant garde my nephew would say. She loved it. Paid me a bonus for it and everything.
Anyway, this carried on like this for about six months. They were… interesting times. Tailing her across train stations, racing across open parking lots to install a tracker on her car, standing on a bridge and dropping an air tag in her bag as she walked past. It was a little bit like being a spy. She even paid for me to buy high end equipment. Crazy stuff. One camera, I could sit on my balcony and read the texts on her phone from a block away. Occasionally there were days where I couldn’t or wouldn’t keep up the required intensity. Stalking requires a lot of cardio. When that happened, when I didn’t feel like following her into a crowded place, or sprinting half-way around town following her car, I’d do research. I’d investigate who this woman had once been. I created fake Facebook profiles and tracked down old school friends, spoke to former teachers, lovers, all of that. The whole job was a matter of mapping her out, like she was a country, you know? And a country isn’t just hills and rivers and borders. Countries have history.
She was happy with my initiative. The text she sent me when I showed her the research folder was a glowing commendation. First one I’d had in a long time. It was nice, someone telling me good job. She had a real way of making me feel like a kid getting a gold star. I didn’t realise at the time, but I was putty in her hands. Head over heels, bless my stupid heart. Of course I didn’t know what I was getting into, but I’d had just enough time to grow over confident. I made the mistake of thinking that I wasn’t gonna find anything in her past that’d give me trouble sleeping.
Boy did I get that one fucking wrong.
Her mother. That’s where things took an odd turn. Now I knew from news reports the mother died in their trailer while her daughter was off staying at some boyfriend’s place for a few days. Natural causes, it read. I wanted to know a little more about what natural causes they were. Figured if there was a congenital thing, it seemed like maybe I ought to know. You’d think the way the trailer park owner reacted to me asking about it, I’d tried asking the Russian government for proof of a democratic election. Thin reedy little woman who gave me hell the moment I mentioned a name. What do you wanna know that for? Who’s asking? Who’s paying you? Why you wanna dig this shit up?
Oh she ripped me to pieces. I put it down to the natural sprinkling of crazies in the standard population and took a different tact. Started calling up the older folks in the park. Residents. Every single one of them put the phone down on me the second I mentioned her name.
Well, all of them except one.
Some people wanna talk and this old bastard was one of them. He had a lot to say about everything from the president to social media and I let him ramble on before starting to press my point. Told him at the start I was a historian looking into the local area, that made it so it wasn’t too suspicious when I began asking about this and that. Slowly making my way to the death of a fifty-three year old woman a couple trailers down from him some years ago.
Again, soon as I mentioned her name, there was a change in the air, even over the phone. For a second I thought this old guy was gonna hang up just like the others. Could hear him smacking his dry lips as he mulled it over.
“Francine didn’t deserve what happened to her,” he said after a while. “She wasn’t a good woman. Didn’t treat her daughter too good neither. But didn’t deserve what happened. Maybe if they’d found her earlier, some of those fellas in white coats could’ve got more evidence, put that little wretch of hers away. But from what I understand, weren’t much left of her at all.”
Then he hung up, leaving me with a whole lot of questions.
This frustrated me. I had, until now, had a fair bit of luck at this new profession of mine. They say be careful what you get good at. Sad truth was, I was getting good at stalking and this was my first real roadblock. I remembered the way I felt when she told me good job and it bothered me I couldn’t really say much about this critical part of her life. That and, well, maybe I still got a chip on my shoulder about being a failed policeman. If you give me a problem, I can sometimes drive myself crazy looking for a fix.
So I hopped in my car and drove to the trailer park, damn near on the other side of the country. Don’t know I was hoping to find. No way the trailer was still there, and it wasn’t. But what I found odd was the lot hadn’t been replaced. There was a hole in the ground, about the right size, and nothing else. Just an empty spot where the trailer had once stood. And the trailers on either side weren’t occupied either. I could tell by politely and legally looking through the windows. Most of them were cleared out, but a few weren’t. They still had plates and other knick knacks left hanging around, like the owners had left without bothering to pack.
“You shouldn’t hang around there, mister.”
The girl who appeared stood a good twenty feet away, shouting over the wind so as to be heard.
“Smell can make you awful sick.”
I wrinkled my nose, aware of the odour she was talking about. Had been since I approached the empty lot. A faint musty smell that made me think of an exotic pet shop.
“What do you mean?”
“Smell makes you sick,” she said like it was self-explanatory. “Woman who died there left behind an awful stench. Made the neighbours sick. And the neighbour’s neighbours, and so on for a couple trailers in a row. No one likes to live there now. Still can’t. Had a couple move in a year or two back and they got sick too. Daddy says it’s a bad one. Not even rats go near that hole.”
The smell wasn’t pretty, but this trailer park looked like the kinda place where hubcaps went missing regularly. Figured they would’ve been used to bad smells. What made this one so special?
I looked over at the girl.
“Where is your dad?”
Few minutes later and I was stood outside a trailer waiting pensively. The little girl had disappeared inside to fetch her father and since then I’d been sat listening to the quietest trailer park in the whole world. Crickets and silence. Traffic on a distant highway. Place was dying, that much was clear.
When the father finally did make an appearance, he said nothing for the first few minutes. Lit a cigarette, offered me one. I refused on account of having quit some time back.
After a while he spoke up.
“I’d invite you in but if you been hanging around that old lot, not sure I want you inside my home. No offence.”
“None taken,” I replied.
“Sally says you’re a historian.”
The man wasn’t terribly old. Mid-thirties, at a guess, but he looked me up and down like I was a teenager caught throwing eggs at his house.
“What’re you really?”
“PI,” I replied.
“Ha now that makes sense. Some relative looking for answers? Heard the Hendersons had a sister with money.”
“That’s exactly it,” I lied. “She didn’t buy the official story.”
“Nor should she,” he replied. “Henderson was fit as a fiddle day he moved in. Weren’t no justice in what happened to those who got sick. And poor Francine… They say she died of natural causes. Man even back then I knew it was shit and I was just a lil kid. The smell alone. Think it’s bad now but at the time, before they came in with a crane to lift the trailer up whole and move it to the dump. Shit it was something awful. There was talk of moving the whole park. Course no one gave enough of a shit about us to go ahead and actually do it.”
“What did she die of?”
“Don’t know. Only thing I am sure of is that that girl of Francine’s lied. Said her mother was live and well when she left before the weekend and they was all on good terms, but that was bullshit. We heard ‘em fighting for weeks before, for one. And of course the body, state that was in, ain’t no way it’d been rotting for just a few days.”
He offered me another cigarette. I refused. He lit it up instead. Second one in what felt like just a few minutes. Made me itchy just to see. I wanted to say something, anything to get a little bit more. But I’d told a big lie pretending to be there on someone else’s behalf, and didn’t want to catch myself out, so I just sat and listened to the quiet buzz of his little patio light.
After the second cigarette was done he reached into his back pocket and took out an old photo.
“I hope you find justice for Henderson and the rest of them,” he said. “Only real bit of proof I ever had something fishy went on.”
He handed me the picture. Wasn’t easy to see what I was looking at. Pile of old leaves, maybe. Mulch. I squinted at it for a few good seconds but couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
“What…?”
“Took that the day they arrived to get rid of the trailer. Had to stand on my friend’s shoulders just to reach.”
“What is it?” I asked, my skin starting to crawl as I picked out details. Whatever I was looking at, it was slumped on a sofa with floral wallpaper in the background. It was about the size of a man, but riddled with holes and cavities the size of golf balls. In my whole life, I’d never seen something that looked like that.
“Why that’s Francine,” he said. “Or at least what was left of her.”
He let me keep the photo. At a guess, that was the only interesting thing that’d ever happened to that man and he’d been waiting to share it with someone. All I had to do was give him an excuse. He seemed to take some pleasure in passing it on. Certainly found my reaction to it amusing. I must’ve gone pale as I grappled with thoughts of what had happened to make a body go bad like that. Back in the hotel, under a good light, I checked that picture again and again. Something about it made me deeply uncomfortable. Knowing a woman was under all that… all those holes and crevices must’ve been made in her flesh. And what’d happened to her skin that’d turned it such a funny texture? Looked furry, like the kinda thing that grows on top of a long-forgotten cup of coffee.
A part of me considered asking my client about this, but I knew that wasn’t the way to go. First, she probably wouldn’t tell me good job if I had to ask. She hired me to do a certain thing and that didn’t involve politely requesting information right from the source. Second, well… I’d read the police reports, what was publicly available, anyway. And she’d made it clear she’d left on the friday and came home on the Monday and…
Well what if that guy was right? Did she really leave her mother alive and well? I mean, people kill. Not just psychos. People like you and me. We do it every day and sometimes we even pull it off. Only half of US murders get solved. That’s a fact. If anyone could be in the right half of that equation, it’d be her. She was smart as hell, my client. Even at seventeen she would’ve been a clever one. Clever enough that she might easily have been able to cover her tracks. Gone over to some boyfriend, twisted his arm into giving her an alibi. Sure, I could see that.
I just needed to figure out what the fuck was going on with that crime scene in the trailer. Thankfully I got some friends still on the force, one of which I even have a bit of leverage on. At first he couldn’t find much on the actual mother, but then I asked him to see if he could take the photo I had, show it around, and see if anyone had seen something like it before. That proved a lot more fruitful. Few days later he came back with a strange one, but straight away I saw the connection.
I’ll spare the details. Old man was found in a tub, all sorts of fucked up, in some old apartment building. It had since been condemned on account of the body which is fairly weird since bodies don’t usually cause that much fuss, but less weird when you realise that said body was in such a bad state it made three people sick and caused long-lasting structural damage. Whatever happened to this guy, it ate through the tub he’d been lying in and seeped into the floors and walls below. Turned plasterboard to shit and apparently even caused some trouble for the sturdier elements like steel and concrete. I don’t know how that works exactly, but that’s what the file said and going by the photos, I didn’t feel like anyone was lying.
As for the pictures? What can I say? Made my fucking skin crawl. No blurry little polaroid snapped by a kid. These were professional crime scene pictures that showed something in a bathtub that didn’t register as human until my eyes went looking for details. He looked like a hairy paper-wasp’s nest, only there were fingers and nipples and other little things that made it clear it had been built using a person as the framework. No face though. Just a head like a pile of used paper plates. Looking at those photos made me learn a new word just to describe how I felt. Trypophobia.
Wasn’t just the one guy either. Building was linked to the disappearance of the ground floor tenant. Some computer geek. I didn’t worry about him too much. But what did catch my eye was there was only one woman living in the whole place. Second floor apartment. The registered name was… somewhat familiar. Close enough to a certain someone’s that it raised the hairs on my neck. Police at the scene managed to get a photo of her and sure enough, there she was. My client going by a different name. Clearly something fishy was going on or else why the pseudonym? I figured it possible she’d maybe offed her own mother. Parents and spouses make the most common victims. But what connection was there to that second corpse, and what about the missing guy?
It was like a horror movie was following her around and she was just blissfully unaware. Condemned buildings and festering trailers made for a far cry from the professional accountant who enjoyed oat milk lattes and used sweetener instead of sugar to spare her teeth. But there was no denying she was the connection. There was photographic proof she’d lived in that building. If I wanted to get ahead of this, to really understand what was going on, I had to figure out what had happened to those bodies. I’d pretty much exhausted my favours with the police and truth was they didn’t know any more than I did. But it turned out the building was still standing. Condemned, but they hadn’t demolished it, partly because no one wanted to take responsibility, but I reckon it might have had something to do with the biohazard warnings slapped on every single window and door.
Good thing I’d brought a gas mask. I waited for sunset, geared up, and entered through the unlocked door. First thing that hit me as the door swung open was the smell. Similar to the trailer park but full pelt and hot as hell. Made me think of lizards and poorly kept terrariums. Strong enough to make my eyes water even through the mask. One thing was clear as I took a look around the hallway - the building was diseased. Not just rundown or decrepit like the usual urban decay. This was something else. Looked like the inside of a clogged pipe. You know how limescale fills it up? It was a bit like that. This oily rust coloured fluid had seeped down the walls and left them glistening and soft. Ropey stalactites of the stuff hung down from the ceiling like old party banners, and I edged around them afraid of what might happen if one touched me.
Best guess was that stuff was digesting the place. Anything soft or organic was going or gone. Old umbrella frames were left standing in one corner, the fabric burnt or dissolved away. The carpet was reduced to just a few patches no bigger than my hand. And a bunch of old cardboard boxes piled up under the stairs had turned squat and half-liquid, almost flowing down and around each other. The worst came when I took a look in the back room. More of a broom closet, I guess. Wouldn't have gone in but something caught my eye. A well-worn shoe that wasn’t covered in that oily shit. Sign of recent activity. That and the way the door was ajar just raised my suspicions, so I took a look.
Even now the timeline eludes me, but someone, a vagrant most likely given the way they were dressed, died a nasty death in there. Chemical burns come to mind. They were balled up in one corner, eyeless, looking up at me as I pushed the door open to take a closer look. Pink flesh threaded with red blood vessels, yellow bones poking through here and there. From the looks of things they’d been trying to work the door open. You could see a history of their escape attempts left by bleeding hands. Rust coloured finger streaks ran all along the door’s edges, special attention paid to the hinges. And he’d broken the only window and tried hauling himself up there only to realise it was barred from the other side. The jagged glass that still clung to the frame was covered in old blood. His palms must have looked like grated cheese. Eventually he’d given up and lain down in that shit and the thought of it made my chest feel heavy and tight. I’d only been in the building a few minutes and that shit was already eating through my shoes. I could hear the thick rubber soles sizzle and pop with each step. But that guy had been forced to sit down in an inch deep puddle of the stuff, likely because exhaustion had left him no choice but to tough it out. So how long had he tried staying up right?
Hours? Days? Weeks?
Him getting stuck in there had to be deliberate. I was sure of it. A feeling in my gut. Someone had locked the door behind him and left him to die slowly. God only knows why, but did that mean they were still hanging around and waiting for a chance to get to me? Looking around, I sure didn’t feel safe or alone. The shadows seemed too deep and the steady drip drip drip of that rancid oil oozing out of every surface was too monotonous. Someone or something lived in that filth and chances were they’d been responsible for that poor vagrant’s agonising death.
That meant getting out of that shithole was a priority, so I made for the stairs and started the climb. If there were any answers in that place, it’d be in the apartment where that old man died. The crime scene tape was still hanging off the door frame when I found it, and the TV and sofa, or what remained of them, stood in the same place as in the photos. Back in the day the old man had been a hoarder and I was surprised crime scene hadn’t cleared all his shit out. It was all still there, only what had once been a chest high maze of papers and magazines was now just a kind of hardened pulp, almost like magma dried mid-flow. Whole fucking place was covered in the stuff like a coral reef, growing up the walls and even patches of the ceiling. Looked a hell of a lot like a wasp’s nest, and it looked to be the source of that oily looking fluid. You could see it sweating out of every crease and fold in that strange hive. It was almost hypnotic to look at. Glistening amber beads oozing out of papery sheets that flowed like rock striata. There was a gentle, barely perceptible rhythm. Hypnotic.
I don’t know why but I reached out and ran the tip of my finger as gently as I could along the surface. It felt like the underside of a mushroom. All those papery gills. Gossamer thin. Soft and inviting. I wore no gloves and the brief moment of contact had deposited a single bead of that strange syrup on my fingertip. It caused a tingling sensation that was not entirely unpleasant. Even the blood that trickled down my knuckle felt warm and wet, like testing a hot bath with your hand. I liked it. I liked it and I wanted more.
I went to reach out and push my arm into the nest when a hand burst out of the nest and gripped my wrist. I was so surprised I didn’t even make a noise, but instead wordlessly fell back as the hand pushed me away from the nest. A very nearly skinless forearm followed and soon after a face emerged from the papery nest like a grime covered nightmare. Black eyes and a lipless mouth. It was a man that could have passed for a corpse, like a half-digested piece of meat. Terrified, I struggled to my feet and realised that this person had broken damn near every bone in my wrist with that single grip.
“Your meat smells raw,” he growled before heaving himself out of the nest in a disgusting parody of childbirth.
My sanity flickered and the next thing I knew I was on the ground floor with bleeding eyes and both hands frantically pulling at the door handle. My mind returned in pieces. I blinked red tears away but didn’t stop trying to open the door. I felt it, that urgent need to leave, like a suffocating man feels the need to breathe. But I’d fucked up bad. I’d sniffed out the closet and saw the trap laid there, but hadn’t seen the larger one set for me. There was only one way in and out of that building and I hadn’t jammed the door open! Now it was shut and nothing I did could get it open. With more time maybe I could’ve pried the jamb or even kicked it down, but my heart was racing and my vision blurring. I wanted out of that place. A hot primal need to get the hell out. The air was too hot. My mask too stifling. Sweat condensed on the inner plastic and made it damn near impossible to see. And the pain in my wrist was a throbbing explosion that made sensible thought impossible. I’d realised early on into my little foray that I was underprepared, but the scale of what that meant eluded me until I was there wrestling with thoughts of exposure and contagion and disease, fumbling at a greasy doorknob with a broken hand while suppressing thoughts of what might be crawling up my leg or back or neck. Panic threatened to consume me. The world and all the normality it represented was right fucking there. I could hear it. The distant hum of traffic. The amber glow of streetlights that lit up the biohazard posters. Not thirty minutes ago I’d been there. Safe and far away from this waking nightmare.
I was being reduced to a prey animal. Even in the moment I could sense it happening to me. Being made into something lesser, but it was like my actions were no longer my own. When I finally gave up on the front door, I turned around and saw the shadows way back at the hallway begin to shift as something descended the stairwell. There was no other way out. No door. No window. Just me, a long corridor, and a nightmare coming right at me.
Something inside me gave up. I don’t know how to describe it. I’m still not sure if it was that building and that strange fluid that seemed to warp my own thoughts, or maybe there’s just too much one person can go through. But I could practically hear the thin membrane of my sanity tear as I fell backwards into the door and slid down onto my ass, breathlessly awaiting my terrible fate. I almost contemplated turning off my light but by then it was too late. I could see him coming towards me. He was legless. Nothing from the waist down except blackened viscera trailing up the stairs behind him. He pulled himself towards hand over hand with hungry eyes. Before I knew it he was on top of me, one hand gripping my mouth with a salty palm, the other stroking my hair.
And then in an instant his demeanour changed. He pulled back with a terrified cry and scrambled away like I’d just stuck him with a blade.
“No no no no no,” he muttered. “No no you should have said you should have said I didn’t know I thought you were another one I didn’t know I thought you were here for me I didn’t know you were hers.”
He cowered away, pedalling on both hands backwards while keeping his eyes fixed on me.
“Tell her I did not know you were hers I could not smell until I was close very close if I hurt you I am sorry tell her I am sorry I did not mean to hurt you it is just I do not get to eat often and am always hungry.”
With a rapid gesture he threw the key for the door at me. It skittered across the floor and fell just short of my feet.
“Tell her I did not know.”
“W-w-w-what are you?” I stammered.
He looked at me curiously, stopping his retreat only briefly to gauge my expression.
“She likes to be seen but I looked without asking and I got what I deserve.”
“Who are you talking about?” I asked.
He very nearly laughed, but with such deformities it was mostly a drooling guffaw.
“You know!” he gasped. “Don’t be stupid. You’re in love with her. Just like me. But different. You got permission. I didn’t. But she was good. She left me an old nest to live in. And I have permission to eat anything I kill or trap myself. Hard now that people know to stay away but sometimes I get lucky.”
His eyes flicked to the closet with sickening hunger.
“What has this got to do with her?” I asked.
“What colour are her eyes?” he replied, almost manic with excitement. “Answer. Answer. Tell me. Tell me. What colour are her eyes?”
“G–”
I stopped. The word felt wrong in my mouth.
“Bl–
“Bro–”
“No no,” he chittered. “None of those.”
Seemingly excited but afraid, he raced forward momentarily and gripped my lapels with twisted glee.
“Compound,” he hissed with such forbidden pleasure. “Her eyes are compound. She’s jealous of us, you know?
“Jealous we get to love her.”
And then he disappeared into the darkness and something inside me gave way entirely and I passed out.
I don’t know much of what came after, exactly. I was found a few hours later in my car, idling at a traffic light. I’d made some effort at getting away on my own but didn’t get very far. No surprise here but I got sick as a dog going in that place. A deep chest infection. The kind that scares everyone at least once in their life. Only fair given how fucking stupid I was. But forgive me, I hadn’t anticipated nightmares beyond human comprehension. I challenge anybody to think that fucking far ahead. You think junkies. You think flies. Squatters. But that guy… that man slipping out of the nest and barrelling towards me on two hands. My mind going sizzle pop along with the soles on my boots. In real life, shit like that always sneaks up on you.
So I paid the price. Six months. Jesus. Six long months. I got every fever you can think of. Sepsis. Kidney failure. Liver failure. Month after month drowning in my own fluids, coughing up shit that made the nurses gag and leave. I asked the doctor what the long term effects will be and he winced before reading a list of things that didn’t leave much hope for a happy retirement. And if it was hard on my body, it was even worse on my mind. Those fever dreams… doctors say what I remember in that building, that was all just part of the sickness. Say I spent a good three days in a coma and strange dreams are the norm. Which I might accept if it weren’t the fucking skin graft still healing on my right hand. No one can explain that.
My client visited. Just the once. There are universally sad moments in life and one of them is realising someone you have a lot of affection for doesn’t have it back. They have some. Just not the same amount. It was always one way though, wasn’t it? I saw her every single day but if I was doing my job right, she only saw me once a month for our meetings. Our arrangement ended not long after, so I hope anyway. She left like it was nothing but me… ah Jesus it felt like someone excavated my heart right out. Even after what she told me why she was there, even after what I did, I could barely stand up straight I was so heartbroken. There were times after that I wished the sickness would just take me. Maybe that defeatism is why it got so bad. Who knows?
She came to me looking for a recommendation, of all things. She wasn’t cold. Far from it. But there was a sense of disappointment as she sat beside me and eyed me up.
“I liked the initiative,” she said after a while. “But the results leave me unimpressed.”
“What the fuck happened in that place?” I asked, and even though I could barely hear my own voice, she seemed like she heard every word. For a moment, the way she contemplated it, I thought I was gonna get a straight answer.
“You know my mother said men don’t see ugly women. They know they exist but they just poof them right outta their mind. Like a magic trick. She said we worked better being a little plain. Good enough to take home for a night. Any more and we’d start to leave problems everywhere we go. That guy was a problem. She was trying to warn me about the dangers of attention but silly me, I went and got addicted. I hoped with you there might be a degree of… separation. Infatuation on a contractual basis.”
She took a deep breath like she’d had a long hard day.
“I don’t know. Maybe Mom was right. It’s ridiculous, I suppose. The fly shouldn’t admire the spider. It either sees it and fears it, or doesn’t know what’s coming until it’s too late. I think Mom was telling me to go for the latter. It’s no fun being invisible though. You spent all that time looking at me. Following me. What did you see?”
I looked at her until my eyes watered and something throbbed in my skull.
“I don’t know,” I tried to lie.
“Be honest.”
She looked right at me and something in the air changed. I don’t know what. Hot. Jesus it was hot. Like looking at the sun. I remember the heart rate monitor going nuts and then… then I remember gossamer wings and serrated chitin. A tick on the inside of your cheek. A leech on your tongue. A horsehair worm that won’t leave the skin. And then an instant later my eyes refocused and there was just a normal woman in front of me.
“Someone I could have loved,” I answered, unable to stop the words spilling like vomit. “Someone who I thought deserved love.”
“See,” she said. “Who wouldn’t like your version better?”
I was crying again. Heart racing. World like butter, going soft at the edges. Whatever she did, it was like undergoing brain surgery in real time.
“I’d like a recommendation,” she said after another minute or two of silence. “I’d like to see myself. I look in the mirror and I don’t see what you do. I’d like an artist to paint me. A version of me, at least. It won’t be easy on them. All this time you’ve probably looked directly at me for no more than five, ten minutes in total. Just didn’t realise it. Always the back of my head or my hair obscuring just so. That won’t do. I want a portrait. I want to know what you see.”
“What will you do to them?”
“I won’t do anything. Not intentionally. But if you ask someone to paint the sun, expect them to go blind. Whoever paints me will be painting the sun in their living room. Going blind is the least of their problems. Now, fess up. You know someone. You mentioned them once in passing. A cousin, maybe. An artist in need of cash. I’m sure of it.”
“Why would I tell you anything?”
“Because you love me,” she said. “And because despite everything you will get better and you will come back to me. Year or two, I think. You are adamant I have no hold on you, and you will think that for a long time. And this period of freedom, you’ll enjoy it only by my good grace and mercy. You did a good job. Better than any before. I’ve read your notes and reports over and over and seen details of myself I didn’t even know were there. It’s a thing of beauty, what you did. And one day soon you’ll come back to me with some excuse for why you want the contract to continue.”
I tried to spit the word never but managed, at best, a weak shake of the head. Something that put a most peculiar smile on her face.
“It doesn’t work like that. It’d be like trying to brute force your way through Alzheimer’s. You’ll be back. Even now you’re mine. All mine. I’m just being gentle. And you’re going to give me the name and number of this artist because even though you know I could no more love you than a spider loves the fly, you are desperate to please me. Because when I broke the man in that apartment building. When I tore him in two and told him that he would live for as long as I desired, writhing without air for years and years, drowning in sickly fluids and trapped helplessly in a hive he is determined to maintain even though I wouldn't be caught dead going back there. He was grateful. And, with time, you’ll be grateful too.”
She put the pen in my hand. She smiled, mouthed the word good boy, and God help me…
I gave her my nephew’s number.

LOS ANGELES, April 30, 2024 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) -- NASDAQ-listed, AGBA Group Holding Limited ("AGBA" or the "Company" or the "Group"), previously announced that on April 16, 2024, it entered into a definitive merger agreement (the "Merger Agreement") to combine AGBA with Triller Corp. ("Triller"), a leading Artificial Intelligence-driven social video platform (together, the "Merger" or the "Transaction"). Together, this merger represents the next step in AGBA and Triller's collective strategic visions in the digital economy.
The Merger represents a distinctive fusion of social media, content, fintech and healthtech, driven by the powerful AI capabilities of the Combined Group. This synergy is exemplified by the exhibit provided below, showcasing the seamless integration of these key domains.
Together with Triller's teams, AGBA is expected to drive the Combined Group in three execution focuses:
(1) Scaling up to leverage fast-emerging opportunities in a highly favorable market environment; (2) Developing monetization capabilities through advanced technologies and innovative marketing strategies; (3) Identifying and executing strategic acquisitions and partnerships to accelerate our path towards becoming a global powerhouse in digital media and financial services.
AGBA anticipates its established track record in development and investing in fintech businesses worldwide will provide a solid foundation and serves as the fifth pillar to complement Triller's existing four pillars of successful businesses -- as illustrated below:
Mr. Wing-Fai Ng, Group President of AGBA Group Holding Limited stated, "We are confident in AGBA/Triller's ability to revolutionize the way people use social media and digital financial services -- tailored to the ever-changing consumer preference around the world."
He added "We expect exponential growth in each of our combined five pillars of businesses in 2024 and 2025. The recent announcement of Conor McGregor joining Triller's BKFC ownership team serves as a prime example of the exciting growth opportunities that lie ahead for all our ventures."
The latest press release is available on the Company's website, please visit www.agba.com/ir
# # #
About AGBA Group:
Established in 1993, AGBA Group Holding Limited (NASDAQ: "AGBA") is a leading one-stop financial supermarket based in Hong Kong offering the broadest set of financial services and healthcare products in the Guangdong-Hong Kong-Macao Greater Bay Area (GBA) through a tech-led ecosystem, enabling clients to unlock the choices that best suit their needs. Trusted by over 400,000 individual and corporate customers, the Group is organized into four market-leading businesses: Platform Business, Distribution Business, Healthcare Business, and Fintech Business.
For more information, please visit www.agba.com
About Triller Corp:
Triller is the AI-powered open garden technology platform for creators. Pairing music culture with sports, fashion, entertainment, and influencers through a 360-degree view of content and technology, Triller uses proprietary AI technology to push and track content virally to affiliated and non-affiliated sites and networks, enabling them to reach millions of additional users. Triller additionally owns Triller Sports, Bare-Knuckle Fighting Championship; Amplify.ai, a leading generative AI platform; FITE, a premier global PPV, AVOD, and SVOD streaming service; and Thuzio, a leader in B2B premium influencer events and experiences.
For more information, visit www.triller.co
Investor Relations and Media Contact:
Ms. Bethany Lai media@agba.com/ ir@agba.com +852 5529 4500 ---------------------------------------------- Social Media Channels: agbagroup LinkedIn X Instagram Facebook YouTube ----------------------------------------------
Important Information About the Proposed Merger and Where to Find It
In connection with the Merger Agreement and the proposed Merger, AGBA intends to file relevant materials with the SEC, including a proxy statement on Schedule 14A, which will be mailed or otherwise disseminated to the shareholders of AGBA as of the record date established for voting on the proposed transactions contemplated by the Merger Agreement. The Company may also file other relevant documents regarding the proposed Merger with the SEC. THIS PRESS RELEASE DOES NOT CONTAIN ALL THE INFORMATION THAT SHOULD BE CONSIDERED CONCERNING THE PROPOSED MERGER AND IS NOT INTENDED TO FORM THE BASIS OF ANY INVESTMENT DECISION OR ANY OTHER DECISION IN RESPECT OF THE MERGER. BEFORE MAKING ANY VOTING OR INVESTMENT DECISION, INVESTORS AND SECURITY HOLDERS OF AGBA ARE URGED TO READ THE DEFINITIVE PROXY STATEMENT AND ALL OTHER RELEVANT DOCUMENTS THAT ARE FILED OR WILL BE FILED WITH THE SEC IN CONNECTION WITH THE PROPOSED MERGER AS THEY BECOME AVAILABLE, INCLUDING ANY AMENDMENTS OR SUPPLEMENTS TO THESE DOCUMENTS, CAREFULLY AND IN THEIR ENTIRETY, BECAUSE THEY WILL CONTAIN IMPORTANT INFORMATION ABOUT THE PROPOSED MERGER.
Investors and security holders may obtain free copies of the definitive proxy statement (if and when available) and other documents that are filed or will be filed with the SEC by AGBA through the website maintained by the SEC at www.sec.gov. Copies of the documents filed with the SEC by AGBA will be available free of charge at: AGBA Group Holding Limited, AGBA Tower, 68 Johnston Road, Wan Chai, Hong Kong SAR, attention: Mr. Ng Wing Fai, Chief Executive Officer.
Participants in Solicitation
AGBA and Triller, and their respective directors and executive officers, may be deemed participants in the solicitation of proxies from AGBA's shareholders in respect of the proposed Merger. AGBA's shareholders and other interested persons may obtain more detailed information about the names and interests of these directors and officers in AGBA's proxy statement on Schedule 14A, when it is filed with the SEC. Information about AGBA's directors and executive officers and their ownership of AGBA ordinary shares is set forth in AGBA's annual report on Form 10-K, filed with the SEC on March 28, 2024. These documents can be obtained free of charge from the sources specified above and at the SEC's web site at www.sec.gov.
This press release does not contain all the information that should be considered concerning the Merger and is not intended to form the basis of any investment decision or any other decision in respect of the Merger. Before making any voting or investment decision, investors and security holders are urged to read AGBA's proxy statement on Schedule 14A and all other relevant documents filed or that will be filed with the SEC in connection with the proposed Merger as they become available because they will contain important information about the proposed Merger.
No Offer or Solicitation
This press release will not constitute a solicitation of a proxy, consent or authorization with respect to any securities or in respect of the Merger. This press release will also not constitute an offer to sell or the solicitation of an offer to buy any securities, nor will there be any sale of securities in any states or jurisdictions in which such offer, solicitation or sale would be unlawful prior to registration or qualification under the securities laws of any such jurisdiction. No offering of securities will be made except by means of a prospectus meeting the requirements of Section 10 of the Securities Act, as amended, or an exemption therefrom.
Forward-Looking Statements
The information in this press release contains certain "forward-looking statements" within the meaning of the "safe harbor" provisions of the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act of 1995 with respect to the proposed Merger. These forward-looking statements generally are identified by the words "believe," "project," "expect," "anticipate," "estimate," "intend," "strategy," "future," "opportunity," "plan," "may, " "should," "will," "would," "will be," "will continue," "will likely result" and similar expressions, but the absence of these words does not mean that a statement is not forward-looking. Such statements include, but are not limited to, statements regarding the proposed transaction, including the anticipated initial enterprise value, the benefits of the proposed transaction, integration plans, anticipated future financial and operating performance and results, including estimates for growth, and the expected timing of the transactions. Consequently, you should not rely on these forward-looking statements as predictions of future events. Many factors could cause actual future events to differ materially from the forward-looking statements in this press release, including but not limited to: (i) the risk that the Merger may not be completed in a timely manner or at all, which may adversely affect the price of AGBA's securities; (ii) the failure to satisfy the conditions to the consummation of the Merger, including the approval of the Merger Agreement by the shareholders of AGBA; (iii) the occurrence of any event, change or other circumstance that could give rise to the termination of the Merger Agreement; (iv) the outcome of any legal proceedings that may be instituted against any of the parties to the Merger Agreement following the announcement of the entry into the Merger Agreement and proposed Merger; (v) the ability of the parties to recognize the benefits of the Merger Agreement and the proposed Merger; (vi) the lack of useful financial information for an accurate estimate of future capital expenditures and future revenue; (vii) statements regarding Triller's industry and market size; (viii) financial condition and performance of Triller, including the anticipated benefits, the implied enterprise value, the expected financial impacts of the Merger, the financial condition, liquidity, results of operations, the products, the expected future performance and market opportunities of Triller; (ix) the impact from future regulatory, judicial, and legislative changes in
Triller's industry; (x) competition from larger technology companies that have greater resources, technology, relationships and/or expertise; and (xi) those factors discussed in AGBA's filings with the SEC and those that will be contained in the definitive proxy statement relating to the Merger. You should carefully consider the foregoing factors and the other risks and uncertainties that will be described in the "Risk Factors" section of the definitive proxy statement and other documents to be filed by AGBA from time to time with the SEC. These filings identify and address other important risks and uncertainties that could cause actual events and results to differ materially from those contained in the forward-looking statements. Forward-looking statements speak only as of the date they are made. Readers are cautioned not to put undue reliance on forward-looking statements, and while AGBA and Triller may elect to update these forward-looking statements at some point in the future, they assume no obligation to update or revise these forward-looking statements, whether as a result of new information, future events or otherwise, subject to applicable law. Neither AGBA nor Triller gives any assurance that AGBA, or Triller, or the combined company, will achieve its expectations.

Building a Digital Economy Titan: AGBA and Triller Combine in $4 Billion Merger LOS ANGELES, April 30, 2024 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) -- NASDAQ-listed, AGBA Group Holding Limited ("AGBA" or the "Company" or the "Group"), previously announced that on April 16, 2024, it entered into a definitive merger agreement (the "Merger Agreement") to combine AGBA with Triller Corp. ("Triller"), a leading Artificial Intelligence-driven social video platform (together, the "Merger" or the "Transaction"). Together, this merger represents the next step in AGBA and Triller's collective strategic visions in the digital economy. The Merger represents a distinctive fusion of social media, content, fintech and healthtech, driven by the powerful AI capabilities of the Combined Group. This synergy is exemplified by the exhibit provided below, showcasing the seamless integration of these key domains. Together with Triller's teams, AGBA is expected to drive the Combined Group in three execution focuses: (1) Scaling up to leverage fast-emerging opportunities in a highly favorable market environment; (2) Developing monetization capabilities through advanced technologies and innovative marketing strategies; (3) Identifying and executing strategic acquisitions and partnerships to accelerate our path towards becoming a global powerhouse in digital media and financial services. AGBA anticipates its established track record in development and investing in fintech businesses worldwide will provide a solid foundation and serves as the fifth pillar to complement Triller's existing four pillars of successful businesses -- as illustrated below: Mr. Wing-Fai Ng, Group President of AGBA Group Holding Limited stated, "We are confident in AGBA/Triller's ability to revolutionize the way people use social media and digital financial services -- tailored to the ever-changing consumer preference around the world." He added "We expect exponential growth in each of our combined five pillars of businesses in 2024 and 2025. The recent announcement of Conor McGregor joining Triller's BKFC ownership team serves as a prime example of the exciting growth opportunities that lie ahead for all our ventures." The latest press release is available on the Company's website, please visit www.agba.com/ir # # # About AGBA Group: Established in 1993, AGBA Group Holding Limited (NASDAQ: "AGBA") is a leading one-stop financial supermarket based in Hong Kong offering the broadest set of financial services and healthcare products in the Guangdong-Hong Kong-Macao Greater Bay Area (GBA) through a tech-led ecosystem, enabling clients to unlock the choices that best suit their needs. Trusted by over 400,000 individual and corporate customers, the Group is organized into four market-leading businesses: Platform Business, Distribution Business, Healthcare Business, and Fintech Business. For more information, please visit www.agba.com About Triller Corp: Triller is the AI-powered open garden technology platform for creators. Pairing music culture with sports, fashion, entertainment, and influencers through a 360-degree view of content and technology, Triller uses proprietary AI technology to push and track content virally to affiliated and non-affiliated sites and networks, enabling them to reach millions of additional users. Triller additionally owns Triller Sports, Bare-Knuckle Fighting Championship; Amplify.ai, a leading generative AI platform; FITE, a premier global PPV, AVOD, and SVOD streaming service; and Thuzio, a leader in B2B premium influencer events and experiences. For more information, visit www.triller.co Investor Relations and Media Contact:
Ms. Bethany Lai media@agba.com/ ir@agba.com +852 5529 4500 ---------------------------------------------- Social Media Channels: agbagroup LinkedIn X Instagram Facebook YouTube ----------------------------------------------
Important Information About the Proposed Merger and Where to Find It In connection with the Merger Agreement and the proposed Merger, AGBA intends to file relevant materials with the SEC, including a proxy statement on Schedule 14A, which will be mailed or otherwise disseminated to the shareholders of AGBA as of the record date established for voting on the proposed transactions contemplated by the Merger Agreement. The Company may also file other relevant documents regarding the proposed Merger with the SEC. THIS PRESS RELEASE DOES NOT CONTAIN ALL THE INFORMATION THAT SHOULD BE CONSIDERED CONCERNING THE PROPOSED MERGER AND IS NOT INTENDED TO FORM THE BASIS OF ANY INVESTMENT DECISION OR ANY OTHER DECISION IN RESPECT OF THE MERGER. BEFORE MAKING ANY VOTING OR INVESTMENT DECISION, INVESTORS AND SECURITY HOLDERS OF AGBA ARE URGED TO READ THE DEFINITIVE PROXY STATEMENT AND ALL OTHER RELEVANT DOCUMENTS THAT ARE FILED OR WILL BE FILED WITH THE SEC IN CONNECTION WITH THE PROPOSED MERGER AS THEY BECOME AVAILABLE, INCLUDING ANY AMENDMENTS OR SUPPLEMENTS TO THESE DOCUMENTS, CAREFULLY AND IN THEIR ENTIRETY, BECAUSE THEY WILL CONTAIN IMPORTANT INFORMATION ABOUT THE PROPOSED MERGER. Investors and security holders may obtain free copies of the definitive proxy statement (if and when available) and other documents that are filed or will be filed with the SEC by AGBA through the website maintained by the SEC at www.sec.gov. Copies of the documents filed with the SEC by AGBA will be available free of charge at: AGBA Group Holding Limited, AGBA Tower, 68 Johnston Road, Wan Chai, Hong Kong SAR, attention: Mr. Ng Wing Fai, Chief Executive Officer. Participants in Solicitation AGBA and Triller, and their respective directors and executive officers, may be deemed participants in the solicitation of proxies from AGBA's shareholders in respect of the proposed Merger. AGBA's shareholders and other interested persons may obtain more detailed information about the names and interests of these directors and officers in AGBA's proxy statement on Schedule 14A, when it is filed with the SEC. Information about AGBA's directors and executive officers and their ownership of AGBA ordinary shares is set forth in AGBA's annual report on Form 10-K, filed with the SEC on March 28, 2024. These documents can be obtained free of charge from the sources specified above and at the SEC's web site at www.sec.gov. This press release does not contain all the information that should be considered concerning the Merger and is not intended to form the basis of any investment decision or any other decision in respect of the Merger. Before making any voting or investment decision, investors and security holders are urged to read AGBA's proxy statement on Schedule 14A and all other relevant documents filed or that will be filed with the SEC in connection with the proposed Merger as they become available because they will contain important information about the proposed Merger. No Offer or Solicitation This press release will not constitute a solicitation of a proxy, consent or authorization with respect to any securities or in respect of the Merger. This press release will also not constitute an offer to sell or the solicitation of an offer to buy any securities, nor will there be any sale of securities in any states or jurisdictions in which such offer, solicitation or sale would be unlawful prior to registration or qualification under the securities laws of any such jurisdiction. No offering of securities will be made except by means of a prospectus meeting the requirements of Section 10 of the Securities Act, as amended, or an exemption therefrom. Forward-Looking Statements The information in this press release contains certain "forward-looking statements" within the meaning of the "safe harbor" provisions of the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act of 1995 with respect to the proposed Merger. These forward-looking statements generally are identified by the words "believe," "project," "expect," "anticipate," "estimate," "intend," "strategy," "future," "opportunity," "plan," "may, " "should," "will," "would," "will be," "will continue," "will likely result" and similar expressions, but the absence of these words does not mean that a statement is not forward-looking. Such statements include, but are not limited to, statements regarding the proposed transaction, including the anticipated initial enterprise value, the benefits of the proposed transaction, integration plans, anticipated future financial and operating performance and results, including estimates for growth, and the expected timing of the transactions. Consequently, you should not rely on these forward-looking statements as predictions of future events. Many factors could cause actual future events to differ materially from the forward-looking statements in this press release, including but not limited to: (i) the risk that the Merger may not be completed in a timely manner or at all, which may adversely affect the price of AGBA's securities; (ii) the failure to satisfy the conditions to the consummation of the Merger, including the approval of the Merger Agreement by the shareholders of AGBA; (iii) the occurrence of any event, change or other circumstance that could give rise to the termination of the Merger Agreement; (iv) the outcome of any legal proceedings that may be instituted against any of the parties to the Merger Agreement following the announcement of the entry into the Merger Agreement and proposed Merger; (v) the ability of the parties to recognize the benefits of the Merger Agreement and the proposed Merger; (vi) the lack of useful financial information for an accurate estimate of future capital expenditures and future revenue; (vii) statements regarding Triller's industry and market size; (viii) financial condition and performance of Triller, including the anticipated benefits, the implied enterprise value, the expected financial impacts of the Merger, the financial condition, liquidity, results of operations, the products, the expected future performance and market opportunities of Triller; (ix) the impact from future regulatory, judicial, and legislative changes in Triller's industry; (x) competition from larger technology companies that have greater resources, technology, relationships and/or expertise; and (xi) those factors discussed in AGBA's filings with the SEC and those that will be contained in the definitive proxy statement relating to the Merger. You should carefully consider the foregoing factors and the other risks and uncertainties that will be described in the "Risk Factors" section of the definitive proxy statement and other documents to be filed by AGBA from time to time with the SEC. These filings identify and address other important risks and uncertainties that could cause actual events and results to differ materially from those contained in the forward-looking statements. Forward-looking statements speak only as of the date they are made. Readers are cautioned not to put undue reliance on forward-looking statements, and while AGBA and Triller may elect to update these forward-looking statements at some point in the future, they assume no obligation to update or revise these forward-looking statements, whether as a result of new information, future events or otherwise, subject to applicable law. Neither AGBA nor Triller gives any assurance that AGBA, or Triller, or the combined company, will achieve its expectations. The MarketWatch News Department was not involved in the creation of this content.

I wanted to share my first hand experience with this.
I want to preface this with saying that I am a victim of child abuse. My mother has Munchausen’s by Proxy as well as BPD. As I have commented before, I see a lot of similarities between my own mother and Joanie. I’m nearly 30, but Facebook has been around for a long time. I believe I was 13 when my mom began video taping me, and posting pictures for her online friends to see. When I got chicken pox at 13, she took pictures of my arms, my legs, and posted it for her friends to see online. When I was sick and in the hospital? Mom had to snap a pic and make sure her friends saw it. Any way to get the supply. Every day she took pictures of me and posted them. When I began developing more severe anxiety and depression, she stood outside my door and recorded my panic attacks, and posted them for her friends to see online.
Now I know her 50+ Facebook friends isn’t nearly as wide scale as Joanie’s large amount of followers and video views, but it was still so, so invasive. I remember feeling so betrayed and could not believe my own mother would do this to me. It still haunts me to this day.
——
I wanted to share my firsthand experience to remind everyone that these children are victims and will unfortunately have life-long consequences because of their mother’s behavior and abuse. We need to start addressing her behavior for what it is: abuse.
Knowingly posting your child online at their most vulnerable moments, knowing that they are being made fun of, and continuing to do so is child abuse. Kids cannot consent to being online. They don’t understand the depth and consequences to their faces being seen by the entire world. I hope someday there will be laws that prevent children from being posted online. Until then, we need pages and groups like this to continue pressuring parents to remove and protect their children online.

Hi everyone,
I'm planning to attend Ado's live concert in Yokohama on October 13th. I'll be in Japan from mid-September to mid-October, but I'm currently in Italy.
Here's the issue: According to Ado's website (if I understood correctly), you need a Japanese phone number to enter the lottery for tickets, which closes on May 6th.
I found a promising proxy service called Ticket Japaaan, but they don't handle tickets for Ado's summer live due to stricter ticketing systems. Their Facebook page also mentions the challenge of these tickets being smartphone tickets only. In their own words, "I (or anyone) cannot purchase any tickets to that show or any shows on the tour on behalf of anyone, because the tickets are smartphone tickets only, which are basically impossible to transfer from one person to another."
So, it seems getting tickets without a Japanese number is quite challenging. I'd love to hear from anyone who attended the recent Shinzou live and managed to get tickets without a Japanese phone number.
Additionally, I'm hoping there might be other lottery periods. Since I'll be in Japan 3-4 weeks before the concert, I might have a Japanese number by then. Ideally, I'd like to participate in a lottery, if there's one closer to the concert date (assuming that i didn't managed to somehow participated in this lottery). Is there a general lottery? and if so, does anyone know when it typically takes place? The final lottery, as I understand it, is typically held about 2 weeks before the concert to sell any remaining seats.
Any advice or information would be greatly appreciated!

• Texas Tech University's CASFER center is leading the way in developing an innovative approach to recycling nitrogen-based fertilizers used in farming
  
• Gold member status provides commercial technology rights in one of the fastest growing markets of fertilizer recycling
  

​​​​​​​FISHERS, IN / ACCESSWIRE / April 29, 2024 / Royalty Management Holding Corporation (Nasdaq:RMCO) ("Royalty Management" "RMCO", or the "Company"), an innovative royalty company building shareholder value by acquiring and developing high value assets in sustainable market environments, announced today that it has renewed its gold status membership in Texas Tech University's Center for Advancing Sustainable and Distributed Fertilizer Production, or ‘CASFER' organization. As a gold member of CASFER, RMC has access to the technologies and intellectual property developed out of CASFER, in particular the innovative and novel technologies to produce, capture, and recycle nitrogen-based fertilizers from farming activities.
Thomas Sauve, Chief Executive Officer of the Company, commented, "We are excited about continuing our relationship and sponsorship with CASFER. Since its founding in 2022 with the help of the National Sciences Foundation, we have been incredibly impressed with the progress of the Center and the team that Dr. Botte has assembled to carry out its mission. We firmly believe that this technology being developed at CASFER, which captures and recycles key elements used in fertilizers for increased food production, has outsized potential to positively impact the growth and efficiency of global food production and fertilizer re-use. RMCO, through its membership in CASFER, has the ability to monetize the intellectual property developed at the Center and looks forward to being a key partner in the success of CASFER and its mission."
The CASFER engineered system is revolutionizing the capture, recovery and recycling of decarbonized nitrogen-based fertilizers using byproducts from untapped sources of waste including concentrated animal feeding operations, municipal wastewater treatment plants and runoff. CASFER is also working to deliver novel synthetic methods that use waste and sustainable resources to create a circular economy for decarbonized nitrogen-based fertilizers production.
More than 50% of the world's population is supported by synthetic nitrogen-based fertilizers, though just 20% of nitrogen-based fertilizers produced translate into food. The other 80% are lost to the environment, creating serious environmental, health and socioeconomic impacts. This represents a substantial opportunity to reduce the inflationary environment for food production, protect the environment and have access to ample growth opportunities for the deployment of this technology.
CASFER is supported by an initial grant of $26 million from the National Science Foundation. CASFER seeks to transform the United States. from nitrogen cycle pollution to a nitrogen circular economy by developing new technologies and programs for capturing, recycling, and producing decarbonized nitrogen-based fertilizers (NBFs). Texas Tech University is leading this effort and serves as CASFER's headquarters with Georgia Tech, Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University, Case Western Reserve University and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology as partner universities.
About CASFER
The CASFER vision is to enable resilient and sustainable food production by developing next generation, modular, distributed, and efficient technology for capturing, recycling, and producing decarbonized nitrogen-based fertilizers (NBFs). CASFER brings together a diverse leadership and the convergence of a multidisciplinary team drawn from Texas Tech University, Florida A&M University, Georgia Institute of Technology, Case Western Reserve University, and Massachusetts Institute of Technology. To learn more about CASFER please visit the website www.casfer.us.
About Royalty Management Holding Corporation
Royalty Management Holding Corporation (NASDAQ:RMCO) is a royalty company building shareholder value to benefit both its shareholders and communities by acquiring and developing high value assets in sustainable market environments. The business model focuses on acquiring and structuring cashflow and revenue streams around assets that can support the communities by monetizing the current existing cash flow streams while identifying transitionary cash flow from the assets for the future. For more information visit www.royaltymgmtcorp.com.
Forward-Looking Statements
This press release contains statements that constitute "forward-looking statements," including with respect to the initial public offering. No assurance can be given that the offering discussed above will be completed on the terms described, or at all. Forward-looking statements are subject to numerous conditions, many of which are beyond the control of the Company, including those that will be set forth in the "Risk Factors" section of the Company's registration statement and proxy statement/prospectus to be filed with the SEC. Copies will be available on the SEC's website, www.sec.gov. The information contained in this release is as of the date first set forth above. The Company undertakes no obligation to update these statements for revisions or changes after the date of this release, except as required by law.
Investor Contact:
RedChip Companies Inc. Robert Foley 1-800-RED-CHIP (733-2447) Info@redchip.com
Company Contact:
Thomas Sauve Chief Executive Officer (317) 855-9926
SOURCE: Royalty Management Holding Corporation
Disclosure: RedChip Companies, Inc. research reports, company profiles and other investor relations materials, publications or presentations, including web content, are based on data obtained from sources we believe to be reliable but are not guaranteed as to accuracy and are not purported to be complete. As such, the information should not be construed as advice designed to meet the particular investment needs of any investor. Any opinions expressed in RedChip reports, company profiles, or other investor relations materials and presentations are subject to change. RedChip Companies and its affiliates may buy and sell shares of securities or options of the issuers mentioned on this website at any time.
The information contained herein is not intended to be used as the basis for investment decisions and should not be construed as advice intended to meet the particular investment needs of any investor. The information contained herein is not a representation or warranty and is not an offer or solicitation of an offer to buy or sell any security. To the fullest extent of the law, RedChip Companies, Inc., our specialists, advisors, and partners will not be liable to any person or entity for the quality, accuracy, completeness, reliability or timeliness of the information provided, or for any direct, indirect, consequential, incidental, special or punitive damages that may arise out of the use of information provided to any person or entity (including but not limited to lost profits, loss of opportunities, trading losses and damages that may result from any inaccuracy or incompleteness of this information).
Stock market investing is inherently risky. RedChip Companies is not responsible for any gains or losses that result from the opinions expressed on this website, in its research reports, company profiles or in other investor relations materials or presentations that it publishes electronically or in print. We strongly encourage all investors to conduct their own research before making any investment decision. For more information on stock market investing, visit the Securities and Exchange Commission ("SEC") at www.sec.gov.
Royalty Management Corporation (RMCO) is a client of RedChip Companies, Inc. RMCO agreed to pay RedChip Companies, Inc. 11,400 shares of common stock for the 6 months of investor awareness services, beginning in October 2023.
Investor awareness services and programs are designed to help small-cap companies communicate their investment characteristics. RedChip investor awareness services include the preparation of a research profile(s), multimedia marketing, and other awareness services.
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When my brother J, met H, he seemed happy and accepted the dumpster fire that came with it. She was an RN (this is important at the end)and had three kids, one was, 4 at the time. I was happy because my brother was happy. We were close at the time, so I just went along with it.
Less than a year they were engaged and planning a wedding on Valentine's Day. 🤢🤮
So while helping with wedding planning (I was hoping to be a bridesmaid, nope...) she would go into details about her and my brother's sex life and even bragging about the size of my brother's 🥒 (🤮🤢💀). In that same time she proceeded to say that my college boyfriend would never marry me because I wasn't worth marrying. Let's just say my dislike started to grow with H.
H & J approached me about taking their wedding photos, since I was a decent photographer. And I said yes, because he was my brother and I would do anything for him.
I spoke with my photographer friends who had done wedding photos. They helped me write up a contract to present to my H. Before I handed this contract to her, I showed my mom and asked if it was completely reasonable. Mom agreed it was.
Went to lunch with H and showed her the contract and how much the photos, video of the ceremony and digital photos & time would cost. I was cutting her a bargain family discount at $500. She was so angry that at first she refused to sign, and I told her if she didn't, I wouldn't do it. She begrudgingly signed the terms of the contact.
I found out from over hearing my mom's phone conversation with my brother that H was pissed off, like through the roof mad. She was so mad that she demanded one of my brother's friend's husband buy an expensive camera and take photos even though he was a groomsman.
I kept my part of the bargain. I did my very best and gave her what she wanted. When she was getting ready she was dictating to everyone who should do what like a...dick tater...
Their wedding ceremony was 5 minutes flat. Quickest one I've ever been too in all my life. Then the chaos continued...
Taking group photos were a flaming hot dumpster fire! Everyone was talking over each other not shutting up for 20 seconds. People made funny faces, etc...the group picture I presented her was one I had to make myself with pieces of 10 different picture. When that part of the train wreck was over, we all headed to the reception.
This is where the fun and games start folks! It was set in a bapub that my brother worked as a bouncer on the weekends. Drinks were flowing hard for the bride and her family. All while my family enjoyed the meal sans alcohol.
There was a bad winter storm and a lot of guest proceed to leave early. Most of them were my brother's coworkers who plowed the major roads and interstate in the area. H didn't particularly care as they weren't apart of her group.
My parents, my college boyfriend & I stayed a little longer because it was my brother's (second) wedding. It wasn't too long after the H was so drunk she got up on the stripper pole in the dance hall area and started to act like a stripper and pole dancing. You can understand why my patents, CBF, & I left.
On the way home my mother informed me that she was paying for their wedding photos since H was refusing to. That was told to my brother and he was grateful for the gesture.
I managed to edit all the photos and videos in a week or two. I wanted to meet with her to discuss which ones she wanted printed.
She just wanted everything NOW. I got a USB Drive and loaded them to it. Since H was acting like a snotty bitch about it, I left my watermark on the pictures. She tried to get them printed at Staples, and they refused because of the watermark. (Note: I would have the ones she liked printed for her, but noooooooo)
Oh yeah, and those pictures that my brother's friend's husband did? Were not high quality. Colors were off most of them very dark. You could tell someone who had an expensive camera but didn't know shit about photography took them.
And the one she shared on Facebook? Her dancing on the pole in her wedding gown...
Needless to say that destroyed my relationship with my brother, they divorced 2 years later. He discovered what a whack job she was.
Total Dede Blanchard type crazy with her daughters "medical needs." Mauthausen by Proxy type shit.
As soon as they moved out, my brother parked his motor cycle in the house, took a picture and uploaded it Facebook to announce his divorce.
Luckily my Brother is marrying a woman that he should have always been with. But our relationship is still strained after all these years because of the Psycho RN.

Anyone going to the coming tour dates? I’m trying to find a proxy to purchase me the lyrics shirt in a XXL, will pay for the shirt of course, $20 for your time, and shipping of course.
Let’s chat thru PM’s, or instagram/facebook. Very, very serious. No date is close to Houston, and can’t travel out to a date due to work.
Please! And thank you :]

Thank you all for coming out to Blue 1 and our One Piece event. That was a huge success and a blast to host! We really appreciate the support and can't thank everyone enough for it.
We took off to SCG Con in Atlanta the weekend after for a little vacation. We did a little business while we were down there and we were able to secure a partnership with CCS to help us start hosting some larger events. And we are thrilled to announce that our first one is coming in June! The AGL is heading down to ATL!
Our main event is our biggest-ever $10,000 cEDH tournament!
We have multiple other events including our first Modern $2k RCQ with a WPN store, a proxy-friendly Legacy $1k event, and a One Piece Win-A-Case!
We can't wait to see you all in Atlanta!
Buy Tickets: https://topdeck.gg/hubs/gmQb2ROljvbnp7VUu9ib9TqCRD83
Charlie's Collectible Show https://www.facebook.com/CharliesCollectibleShow