Red nose avant pitbulls for sale

[WTS] Trijicon MRO on Reptilia 1.93, BCM AT 1.93 Aimpoint mount, Surefire 5/8X24 Warcomp

2024.05.24 00:29 steelshinessilver [WTS] Trijicon MRO on Reptilia 1.93, BCM AT 1.93 Aimpoint mount, Surefire 5/8X24 Warcomp

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/vl0cKpB
Hey y’all, got some stuff for sale. Prices are shipped to the lower 48, payment via PayPal or Venmo, buyer covers G&S.
BCM Aimpoint 1.93 Mount, like new - $85
Trijicon MRO Red dot with Reptilia 1.93 MRO Mount - $355
Surefire 5/8x24 Warcomp, used - $60
submitted by steelshinessilver to GunAccessoriesForSale [link] [comments]


2024.05.24 00:27 Zaffer8712 Hopefully a joke but it has character

Hopefully a joke but it has character submitted by Zaffer8712 to delusionalcraigslist [link] [comments]


2024.05.24 00:26 ShadowSpade 18.9k for a 5000 Kilometer milage 2024 a good deal?

its red, rhere are 2 red ones for sale. a brand.new one for 21.6k and this buddy for almost 19k. Which one would you buy? has to be red.
the brand new xar with my deposit would cost about 270 a month before insurance
submitted by ShadowSpade to hondafit [link] [comments]


2024.05.24 00:06 Waking-Devils I bought a hog farm from a retiring swineherd. There’s something wrong with the pigs.

“So, how much?”
I didn’t know Charles well, but well enough to guess that the grizzled hog farmer was a talented salesman. ‘No lowballs,’ I imagined him drawling, waggling his finger, and speaking over his exceptionally jutting chin.
“Three-hundred fifty for the land, the pen, and the house,” the man said. He spat, hard, and the tobacco-black phlegm stuck to the side of the fence post and slowly ran down the side in three rivulets.
“Then another twenty grand for the hogs. Two-hundred thirty-three of ‘em, not a large passel. Price of swine is goin’ up, I’ll tell you, so t’s the best I can give you for what you’s gettin’.”
I had expected to hand him even more money. Charles and his wife had a small operation, but big enough to matter, with a beautiful two-story farmhouse to accompany it nicely. I wasn’t getting a better deal anywhere else. At least not anywhere I wanted to be. I’d longed to live as a farmer in Tennessee ever since my family’s entire property burned to the ground back in the fall of ‘68. It was dry, and we’d just fertilized after the harvest.
Not a living thing was left untouched by the flames, not even my father, who ran back to get the horses after the barn shot up with a pillar of fire. We never found his body. Or maybe we did, but the charred dust of the barn, the corn, and the animals we called our lives and the blackened remains of the man that was my world were all reduced to ashes in the end. And when the wind came, they all blew away just the same, forever to leave me, my two sisters, and my mother behind.
I held out my hand to Charles and we shook on it.
It wasn’t the life I envisioned for myself. Not when I got my engineering degree from Georgia Tech. Not when I began work at a small engineering firm. Not even when I saw the hog farm for sale less than an hour from my house did I realize that was the world I lost that I needed back. My wife didn’t care; in fact, it brought her work commute down to forty minutes from an hour ten.
After we moved there and I began consulting part-time to make allowance for the time I needed to spend raising the hogs, caring for the land, and tending to my now-pregnant wife, the fulfillment I sought seemed that much closer. But only that. Closer, yet still out of the reach of my yearning clutches. It wasn’t until two years after I bought the farm, almost to the day, that the chips seemed to fall on my side with her.
“Micah?”
Jackie was calling from the cubicle over. Then I heard footsteps coming towards my own office space.
“Hey, yeah, did you finish the drainage plans for the floodplain you were working on? If so, I’d happily review and sign off on them.”
Jackie had come here a couple of years after I did. She was an intern at first, and everybody loved her cheery smile and sharp intellect, so she was hired on after she finished her degree. The youngest of our crew, she lived by herself in an apartment, but her lack of experience didn’t keep her from coolly sharing her opinion on matters of work when she knew she was right. And she was always right.
Jackie had always taken a liking to me in a way she didn’t seem to show toward the others. I never became sure of why she did, but I had my suspicions. Trauma and mystique go hand in hand. Maybe she saw me as broken in the same way she saw herself. After all, it didn’t take a psychologist to tell Jackie had her own skeletons in her closet. She just had that aura, the one that neglected children and broken adults share with each other. Nobody knew what life she walked out of and nobody cared. She did her job, and that was all the company cared for. But not me.
I turned away from my computer screen towards the opening of my cubicle and she was there, half silhouetted by the light behind her, staring me in the eye. Jackie trailed a finger down the edge of the cubicle wall, her mouth open barely enough for me to see her tongue flit deftly over her perfectly-aligned incisors. Ignoring my question, she continued.
“Your wife, I take it?”
She gestured with an outstretched palm toward the wedding photo I had framed on my desk.
“Yeah. Hard to believe we’ll be a family of three soon. Ha!”
I chuckled, nervously. Slightly excitedly, too. I can’t tell if Jackie knew that the latter was for what I knew was coming rather than what I had already said, but I don’t think she would have cared one way or the other.
“Say, she must be lonely waiting for you at home? I know that feeling. Being lonely.”
She took a step towards me and I glanced down at my feet. Looking back, it felt like an eternity, that looking down, that knowing what was happening and making a decision. It was a choice. And while it felt like it stretched for minutes, hours, I knew it was but a moment. Yet it only took a moment to make my descent into sin.
“I know it too. Well. Too well. She’s on a business trip - a long one. Say, I raise hogs. Prize swine, there’s good money in them. What’d you say about coming to see my farm sometime?”
It had been two hours since Jackie had left the farmhouse and was almost one-thirty in the morning, yet I wasn’t tired. According to my doctor, I have insomnia. According to my mother, I have “bad juju.” According to myself, well, I guess I just don’t feel like sleep is worth the trouble sometimes. That night, though, I didn’t sleep at all until the sun shone through my window in the early hours of the morning.
Living among swine never gave me a lot of grief before then. Some people hated the stench - my wife among them - but the manure never bothered me, and, come to find out, it didn’t bother Jackie, either. I would have asked if she had been on a farm as a child, but her demeanor and attitude told me that she wasn’t interested in the slightest in my life and that I shouldn’t be in hers, either. I suppose I wasn’t - not in the one outside of our affair, at least.
But that night, when the stars were out and shining like eyes in a limitless black sea, and when the wind rustled through the trees, a gigantic army moving across the land like a plague towards destinations unseen, I started to feel bothered in a way I never had before.
I had been sitting on the back porch in view of the pig pens after having just finished the chores. I knew I wasn’t drunk, I was only on my second beer, but sitting outside, half-empty bottle in hand, I suddenly wished I could be completely wasted. I’d never been one to believe in those types of things that you can’t touch with your hand or see with your eyes. The hair stood up on my arms and the taste of metal lapped my tongue as if a storm was coming. No, I didn’t believe in the things you couldn’t really feel, but I could sure as hell feel something now.
Unsettled, I was turning around to go get another beer before something caught my eye in the pig pen that made me glance over.
All of the pigs visible from this side of the house could be seen, through the metal fencing, staring in my direction. The ones who were blocked by the lumpy bodies of the other swine stood on the hind ends of the others to see. With their combined mass, the pigs strained the metal of the pen stalls until each stall’s fencing bulged out in the middle where the weight was distributed.
Most unique of all was the unanimous behavior of the swine. Not one fell out of sync. Each one, eyes glowing like headlights in the dark, bodies silhouetted against the light of the moon, was without noise or disturbance. Once all of the pigs were in position, they all stayed ominously still.
As I watched, one by one, hundreds of eyes closed, and a wave of darkness spread over the pen as no more eyes were open to reflect the light. I swore for a moment that the stars did too and that the world around me plunged into complete darkness, but I cannot be for certain, because at that same moment, I involuntarily blinked.
I say involuntarily because, frozen in place, the scene was too strange for me to willingly turn away from. I do not know if the same force that caused the swine to flicker their eyes caused me to do the same, perhaps a gust of wind - or of something less tangible - but upon opening them, the pigs had returned to their discord, with several having already gone to sleep. Deeply disturbed, I went inside the house and drank until the morning came and I finally found sleep.
My wife returned from her trip soon enough and without much ado upon her arrival. For the next month or so, the two of us were together, and our lives were lived without significant discord. None that she knew about, anyway. I never told her about Jackie and I certainly didn’t mention the times I saw my coworker after my wife returned, either. And while I did float an innocent question to her asking if she had noticed any of the hogs’ strange behavior, I didn’t enlighten her as to the motivation for my interrogative manner. She never appreciated being in the company of swine as it was, and turning her disdain into disgust wasn’t on my agenda.
Almost as abruptly as she had returned, my wife left, again, to be gone for the next week and a half on another trip. Probably best for her, too, because the hottest days of the year hit western Tennessee when she wasn’t there to experience them. And no sooner had she gone than Jackie resumed her nightly visits to the farm. Each time, she showed up without much notice, if any at all, and left just as abruptly.
Funnily enough, I didn’t care much. I felt no more and no less empty after she left than when she was here. So after I spent my days with my eyes on my screen and my nose in my boss’s ass, I spent my nights staring up through the bottoms of bone-dry bottles, faintly wondering if the path I walked down could’ve been just a little warmer or just a little brighter if things were different.
In spite of my catering towards my boss’s every wish at the office, he didn’t return the good-will in kind.
“What do you mean you’re asking for a raise?”
I swallowed and continued.
“I mean that it’s been five years, Glenn. I simply asked that my pay might increase to match inflation.”
My boss folded his hands across his desk and sighed. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he dabbed at a couple of beads of sweat running down from his brow. We were in the heat of summer, and the air hung thick and humid around us. The office had air conditioning, but the unit was old, and the fan whistling away in the corner didn’t do much good against the record-breaking heat pressing in around us.
“I’m sorry, Micah. It’s just that you’re consulting, now, and… I can’t afford you those kinds of benefits-”
“What do you mean benefits? I’ve been here long enough I’m owed at least that, Glenn! What the fuck do you think I’m still here for? Pot lucks?”
That was the first time I had lost my temper at my boss; at least, the first time since he ripped up one of my drafts for a project several years back. That had been a long day for both of us. Now, Glenn sat back and scowled ever so slightly, and only for a brief moment, an indication that his inhibitions keeping his attitude in check were wearing thin. Nonetheless, he put on a smile, and chuckled coldly.
“Micah, look- you always were my right hand man, but you’re here so little now. One could say you’re more like my right thumb man, now.”
That was a long day too. The heat didn’t help. Somehow some bugs got into the office. Somebody probably left a door open to quash the heat, fruitlessly.
No wonder the AC’s shot, I thought to myself.
By the time it was the hour for me to leave, there were moths flitting around the lights, flies eating the stale food in the cafe, gnats alighting on every exposed surface in the office- insects were everywhere. I figured that door must have been left open most of the day.
Gotta be pretty stupid bugs, if this is where they want to be.
The time came for me to leave and I did so without a fuss. As little as I could manage, anyway. I took time to complete some errands and returned home, only to realize the heat wasn’t much less oppressive there than it was at the office, even if there weren’t any insects. If anything, it felt oddly empty without them, even after Jackie showed up. The rest of that evening was a blur of empty bottles and used cigarette butts littering the porch.
At some point — two in the morning, three, it didn’t matter — I was pulled out of my drunken slumber and forced into sobriety by a noise I could no more determine the source of than what I had eaten for dinner a year ago from the day. I sat up with a jolt and listened, suddenly feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
The sound, if it could be called that, was discordant, unnatural, wrong — and yet, I couldn’t remember another thing about it. It wasn’t a sound heard through your ears, a vibration in your skin, nor even a sensation of one’s physical brain; it was a thought processed through one’s sleeping soul, something that certainly cannot be described with words without diminishing the weightiness placed; without negating, in full, the sense of abject horror at its state of being.
I had sat atop that precipice between reality and unreality; sleep, the abyss, where devils absently play amongst the nightmares of men. I told myself it was just that, a dream, but I know now that the place I was and the places I was soon to go were gateways between the waking world and the one beneath it. Before I had time to process what I had just felt, I heard another sound, this one very much real, and resembling a dying animal. Slowly, I made my way out of my crumpled bed and opened the blinds. I almost wished, upon doing so, that I was back on the precipice.
Thirteen of the hogs stood in a circle on the lawn; how they had gotten out, I don’t know. Each stood perfectly still, equidistant from the next, and faced a quivering shadow in the middle of them all. I could make out faint features: a scraggly beard, a bottle- whether the man was a hiker or a drunk, I couldn’t tell. Nonetheless, he had wound up on my property, and found himself caught in a circle of pigs.
I watched the man’s motions and noted with rising horror that as he walked in one direction, the circle of pigs shifted to keep him at the center of the ring, and all the while they drew nearer to him. The man was clearly intoxicated now; it was almost half a minute before he stumbled, fell, and no sooner squelched in the dirt than thirteen squeals rang through the night and the animals blotted out his body from sight with their unified mass.
The man let out one scream but could manage no more than one. The ring was a blur of motion. I saw little but I saw enough; one pig reared its glistening head and I watched part of a scalp fly from its gaping mouth, arcing dark liquid as it trailed across the yard. Another couple chunks of meat rolled away from the pile and reached a stop several feet away in the yard; once the pigs were through with their feast, they broke off from the previous site, now nothing but a red stain on the earth, and gobbled up the pieces that had got away.
It took me the next four hours to get the pigs back into their pen, but I managed it. And, none had to be shot in the process, though I surmised I should come with a gun readied. A cleanup wasn’t necessary either; it was a hog farm, so it’d be getting dirty again soon. I considered another individual might find the stain, but there was no proof it was human blood, and I had no intention of calling the police out there.
That morning, my boss was late to work. I suppose that’s to be expected, though, when one has had their tires slashed. He was livid, and I didn’t correct his supposition that his ex-wife had committed the act, though I’m sure he would have loved another reason to fire me. After all, I was nothing more than a right thumb man.
The day had gone quicker and cooler than the former, and the low droning of the rain made the day seem just a little less lonely. Of course, I was slated to see Jackie that night, and after lunch I had left work, gone off to purchase more drinks from the local liquor store. I remember having gotten enough to fill the passenger seat of my truck, and felt almost as if the pile of liquor was a singular being, watching me; the silently judgemental friend. I had a twinge of anxiety, and half wondered if I was going insane; at that, I laughed.
The air was cool when Jackie got there. My mother always used to call that the first breath of autumn, when the reaper opened his eyes and cooed softly to his crop before the inferno was snuffed out by the frigid winter. As a child, I didn’t pay much attention to her words, but as I grew older I felt the cold in my bones, and tonight I felt it in my soul, a faint whisper of death like the mark of the beast. I watched Jackie’s hair whip to the side, a black flag in the wind, as she approached the house. On the doorstep, we embraced, and I recall she said she needed to talk.
“You’re an awfully successful man, Micah. And I know you’ve got a lot of money. Maybe you’re not wealthy, no, but you’re richer than me, and there’s enough to go around. It’d be a damn shame if your poor wife found out about me. No, I haven’t said a thing yet, and I know you know that, for the poor thing couldn’t take the stress and might just die. But I could say a thing, and maybe even a little more. And a nasty thing it’d be, too. I’d just ask for $1,000 a month, but times are tough, so I’m inclined to say $2,000 would be enough to keep my mouth shut. And, of course, we could continue seeing each other. . . if you’d so please.”
Some say they see red when they’re angry enough, but I still remember how I saw even less; the next five minutes of my life were no clearer to me than several brief glimpses of reality, interspersed by periods of unreality before the next glimpse. A scream, and then another. The thought: she’s got a knife. A bone snapped: mine, hers, it didn’t matter. Blood; spattered on the carpet, on my shirt, and the drip-drip of a glistening red globe, smashed in through the side like a cracked egg. I remember the silence before the adrenaline eased and I felt pain, and I remember the pain before the squelch when I issued one last kick to the body, lying on the ground.
It had been time for me to feed the pigs. Jackie usually helped me with the feeding when she came over, always with a coy look, and often it was short lived and I needed to finish the job on my own after she left. I was betting that she could help me again. Hoisting her up onto my shoulder wasn’t difficult, though I supposed she was lighter than usual. I stooped to pick up the last few pieces that didn’t come with the rest of her and took the two of us to our yard.
The part of the brain we, as people, already understand cannot possibly encompass every sensation which we, as people, feel. Scientifically, maybe- but that feeling that makes dogs bark at empty rooms; that makes cats stare into walls before jumping away, frightened; that feeling exists in humans, too. Call it a sixth sense, or ESP, it’s there, and I felt it when carrying Jackie. The birds had stopped calling, the trees had ceased rustling, and a low, droning buzz resounded outside the pig pen. It rose in volume and pitch, and as I dropped Jackie’s lifeless corpse onto the ground, it blocked entirely the noise of the world around me.
I didn’t even hear the thump. Nor did I hear the pigs, for it wasn’t until I looked up from her body, panting heavily from the effort of what had transpired, that I saw that we stood on the fringe of a gathering of the pigs. I couldn’t see if any remained in the pen, but I could see that at least a hundred gathered here outside the pen, all staring at me with glassy eyes and salivating mouths. Some stood on the haunches of the others to see, and many were covered in blood, having been left uncleaned since the events of the previous night. Even through the foggy daze I was in, my fear registered on a guttural level and, in horror at the unreality of what I was seeing, I backpedaled, eventually tripping over a rut in the earth and falling to the ground.
The next moment, each of the pigs had turned to look at what was left of Jackie. For a couple of seconds, they stared at her, and I realized that the droning in my ears had stopped, replaced with nothing but an ominous silence. That silence was short lived, for in one, unanimous, ear-splitting squeal, the pigs raced each other to the body, and carnage ensued.
The hogs in front no sooner reached the body than were ripped apart by the pigs behind them. Huge flaps of fatty skin hung in ribbons from the napes of their necks and blood sprayed in all directions as necks, limbs, tails, and extremities were mangled with the reckless abandon of a pack of wild dogs. I suppose that’s what they were; even if I treated them like domesticated creatures, they were animals, and they were out of the control of any constraints that civilization wanted to place on them.
The mass of flesh moved rhythmically and dripping bodies were flung like oversized rag dolls from the fray to land wetly and lifelessly on the earth. Occasionally, I would hear a crunch as bones were rent and snapped under the pressure of the fray, and squeals as the broken limbs stabbed through the fleshy bodies of the animals atop them. Hooves, teeth, and bones carved the flesh of the other pigs, and while blood and feces sprayed freely, chunks of gore rolled out of the fray like meaty baseballs.
The pleasant temperature drop had undone itself, as the wind had stopped blowing, and the stench of the scene hung thick in the hot and heavy air of late summer. I vomited, over and over, bent over in the shit and the blood, eyes watering from the smell, and blood dripped from everywhere on my body. It ran off my body in rivulets and pooled around my feet. Some was mine, but more was Jackie’s, and more yet was the remains of the pigs. Blood dripped from my mouth onto the dirt, and I could no longer tell if I was looking up towards the cruel stars, down at the earth, or witnessing the slaughter before me, for my sight was veiled by a coating of blood, and my senses were clouded by the rush of adrenaline, though I could do nothing but sit in shock.
Breathe.
A chunk of meat smacked me in the shoulder.
Breathe.
An ear bounced off of my forehead.
Breathe.
An opened artery sprayed blood across my face in a line.
Breathe.
My eyes recognized four pigs on the fringe of the conflict abandoning their course for what was left of Jackie and I saw turn to me, each foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal. I saw two get ripped away by two other pigs, but the remaining couple charged. The one that reached me first clamped its maw around my leg not a moment before the next reached it, bit into its neck, and thrashed it back and forth.
I couldn’t hear my own screams above the countless squeals of the hog pile and the constant wet ripping that resounded through the dark sky. Eventually, the pig that had bit me gave out with a squeal, but not before the lower half of my leg was snapped with one, final pull, and the pig behind then buried its face in the body of the dying hog before being dragged back into the conflict by another. I failed to even hear my cries of pain over the sounds of the fray; I knew I screamed only from the burning in my throat.
Breathe.
A second later, I was thrown by the arm and crashed against the soggy earth several feet away from the conflict. For a moment, I wondered if I was alive, or if the world I was seeing around me was really Hell, and I was a damned soul being punished for my sins. At that, I blacked out, and entered a timeless, dreamless slumber that sent the world back into the buzzing mayhem I had felt before the carnage.
I opened my eyes some brief time later to find that the buzzing persisted in my ears while awake. Perspiring heavily from the heat, I found I was lying on my back on the ground, facing the burning remains of my house. The buzzing was really the rush of flames lapping at the sky and the crackling of embers as the roaring fire pulled them out of sight.
“Swine,”
The voice, which rang impossibly clear in the noise of the night, above the roar of the inferno and the sounds of the approaching sirens, had come from but a few feet behind the back of my moist head. Even after all that had transpired, the word made my hair stand on end, for it was spoken with a voice that could snuff out the stars if it were to say that they ought to stop shining.
I turned my head to face behind me, groaning sharply from the pain, to see a man atop a mountain of hundreds of mutilated hogs. The pile ran with a constant stream of blood and feces, which dripped slowly over the terraced stack of corpses to form a small lake underneath, the edge of which lapped my face with miniature waves of gore.
“. . . they never learn.”
Then, the man smiled, and I realized with horror that his legs resembled those of ruminants.
And atop his head rested two ebony horns, glistening in the moonlight.
submitted by Waking-Devils to nosleep [link] [comments]


2024.05.24 00:04 swiggitywigg UPDATE: AITH for making my senior father and step mother homeless!?

I’m back again to ask for advice and not so much a story time. I’ve found myself in quite the pickle. If readers aren’t up to speed, please go back and read my post from last year. I inherited my late grandparents home after my Mammie passed away in late 2022. In early 2023, I changed the locks, got all utilities transferred over to my name. My dad was understandably miffed that he didn’t inherit the home, but he’s known since I was 9 years old when my grandparents deeded the home to me.
I’ve had a very rocky relationship with my dad over my 31 years. He has poor taste in women, and turned a blind eye to the abuse I endured during the years I lived with them. She has 4 children from a previous marriage. 3 of which are one wellfare and get constant handouts from them. When I left my home at 18 I was on my own financially and went to pursue a degree I have yet to complete 13 years later. I’m married and have started my own family now. We do quite well all things considered. My husband is in a professional field and I have an Etsy store where I make designed products for book lovers and plant parents.
Given these facts, her children decided to insert themselves and tell me I owe it to my dad and stepmother to live in my late grandparents house. I did not cave to the notion. It’s mine. I am now in the process of selling my house so I can live in my inherited home. It needs major renovations in terms of plumbing, electrical and cosmetic. I’m in contract with a realtor and we will be moving mid June.
My dad has offered to help us move. I was open to the idea. Without asking me first, he purchased a SW one way ticket to FL to help us move. That wasn’t what bothered me. It was how fast things have escalated. In the last week, he has dropped a bomb on me that he is “finally leaving my step mother.” We’ve all heard this song and dance before. I admit to all the trauma and abuse I suffered from her emotionally, mentally and physically, only for him to show up with her without warning months or years later. It’s jarring to say the least and frays on my mental health. But apart of me holds on to hope. I want to blame her but ultimately he is also complicit in allowing it.
Then within twenty four hours of announcing his secret to leave her, he is asking if he can stay in one of the spare rooms at my late grandparents house (his parents) while he finds another RV to park on his land that joins mine. He wanted to arrive in KY a week before the move, and do pest control and prep the house before we get there. While we wait for our FL to sell, we were going to stay in my inherited house. When it sells we will move out and start renovating with the cash from the FL home sale.
I’ve been keeping my aunt and uncle in the loop who has a home next door that’s been unlived in for 4 years. They bought another home 30 minutes away closer to my uncles work. They have two daughters in college. I offered to rent their home next door while we renovate as it would be beneficial for all parties. The county we are moving to doesn’t have a lot of rentals available. I want my daughter in school there because my Aunt works at the school she will be attending. I can also keep an eye on contractors. My family wants nothing to do with him. When I was growing up, I was gas lit into thinking their behaviors were okay. My grandparents and aunt and uncle never stopped fighting for me and showing me love. They’ve lived through these things as adults and have very hard opinions on my father. They are cordial with him, but do not rub shoulders, do holidays or even dinners with him. Not since I left the home at 18 anyways.
But now I’m at an impasse with my family. They do not feel comfortable with my dad moving up there, and circumstances have changed throwing a wrench in their plans. My dad is very charming. But he has also committed fraud and theft from him parents over the years and no one trust him. I’m not upset with my aunt and uncle for reneging on our arrangement. They fear him getting into their house and taking from them. But I am 3 weeks from our move and I’m panicking. This move was about finding my peace and financial freedom living debt free. I’ve kept my dad from arms length all these years putting states and states of distance between us, only for it to go down the drain in one of the biggest milestones in my life.
He says he wants to help. I want to believe him. There’s still that little girl inside that yearns for her father’s attention and love that he so freely gave to my step sisters. He didn’t attend my wedding because he was at a gun show. My daughter was two months old before he met her. He was miffed my mom came down to help after I gave birth and decided he would pitch a fit. As the old saying goes, he has that “my way or the highway,” mentality. There are so many red flags going off right now, and it’s cost me a very lucrative living arrangement. The cost to rent next door was far cheaper and closer than having to go to neighboring towns and cities to rent. I’ll have to commute 30 minutes to the house and school daily. If you are familiar with rural areas, you understand the conundrum. I can make do, but I feel defeated in a way. Conflicted.
I want an honest relationship with him but I’m afraid of him hurting me again or my daughter. She’s 8 years old and is very frank about her distain for him. Somehow she has more wisdom than myself. Am I opening up a can of worms that I’ll regret? I still feel emotionally drained from how the will played out and his reaction. He basically got nothing but a bunch of stipulations on 12 acres. No alcohol, no trailers long term, not bringing my stepmom’s family to live. I don’t know if it would hold up in court. He tried to manipulate me when I said there wasn’t a key to get into the house. He said he guessed he would pitch a tent outside because he can’t afford to eat a $124 southwest flight. If that’s the case, how the hell will he afford RV hookups on virgin land in addition to purchasing a used RV?
Do I pull the plug now and go no contact? Do I forgo moving all together? I hate Florida, the cost of living is insane and my property taxes and insurance have gone up. I only moved her for my mom. I do love my home right now but the way the economy is I feel the need to get out from under my mortgage before it’s too late. Interested to hear the worm army’s thoughts and the OK OP fam. When you read my story last year I felt so validated but this situation seems to have gotten much more complicated.
submitted by swiggitywigg to okopshow [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 23:59 Cyber-exe Just got the AOC Q27G3XNM (27" Mini-LED HDR1000) - Early observations and hello to all other new owners of this display

I previously picked up one of the newer MSI Rapid VA panels that was curved. I had a bright patch that ruined darks and found reds were really weak on it which was fixable in Windows/Nvidia but not solvable for PS5. The response time was definitely fast and clean with zero black smear but it was still choppy on 24fps media content, anime particularly since it's a lot of solid color blacks with defined outlines running 24fps. I returned it and waited a month to get this AOC monitor knowing the mini-LED would be assurance against poor black uniformity that the curved panels seem to suffer from and also seeing the response time specs on Rtings was promising. The MSI was a shot in the unknown with no professional reviews. I have a Gigabyte M32U and it's very choppy for this use case in comparison. Spoiler, the AOC is smooth!
Had Newegg cancel 2 orders I made shortly after restock alerts and then got it on the 3rd try where it seems like they actually had enough inventory to keep the sales going a few days after. Amazon had a month delay shipping as if they were pre selling them which I canceled when the 3rd try on Newegg got through. I know there's some more of us who just got their monitors too in this recent batch. It's possible that panel quality can vary between batches so I know that those of us who just got theirs this week are probably in the same group. I don't see the red tint issue with mine and the black uniformity is perfect, but the text clarity is a fail for productivity use.
BLACK SMEAR & MOTION
This does have very minimal black smear or outlining. Anime is a perfect test to see 24fps look choppy because it's a lot of solid colors with black outlines. I can see a subtle amount of black smear but I really have to look for it, but for once panning images don't look choppy, even the MSI Rapid VA would look choppy in this scenario, my Gigabyte M32U IPS is choppy in this scenario. The AOC is smooth like my 10 year old 60hz TN panel which was a confirmed fast panel. The only odd thing about the minor black smear is I use dark mode and a black wallpaper fill, my mouse cursor is enlargened and black with white outlines. Moving this around it's like the cursor fades away even with local dimming turned off. For actually watching content or gaming it's a non issue.
LOCAL DIMMING - SDR
I'm still figuring out what local dimming option to use. Looking at star fields is fine in a dark room but would be ruined in daylight. Switching between local dimming full or off along with comparing to my IPS monitor there's nothing ever being dimmed to the point of being lost but watching a video where various stars twinkle is the one case where the local dimming fails, without any local dimming you can see the brightness rise and peak on a twinkling star but with local dimming it's dulled out. This applies to all local dimming options, even low drops the backlighting by more then half way, only medium and full will actually give you the perception of a black background while low is just mild backlight still looking very dark.
The menu buttons are tough, so navigating to the local dimming option and flipping through wasn't enjoyable but I switched around quite a bit. Something I did most of my testing on was RE:Zero, an anime that has plenty of dark scenes but almost never any actual solid black zones without some sort of detail. I continually found that even on full local dimming it would almost never black out small dark areas either because the image technically wasn't 0,0,0 RGB black, there were subtle details that can be seen if you look for them. Then there might be some much smaller areas that truly are black (or maybe not)but the amount of dimming zones is too few to actually turn them off completely if they were actual pitch black. If it's a large black zone then it will go pitch black but this meant switching the content. We probably won't see panels that can shut off small black spots until we see 3,000 zone VA panels which is 10x of this one, and IPS panels will probably need more due to the more intense glow they emit.
The thing I find disorienting about local dimming full is that a fade to black will seem like the screen just powered down, then the media resumes with dark scenes that still look amazing but you just get reminded on every fade to black that none of those dark scenes ever gave you true black. This could just be an issue with using RE:Zero for the testing since it's full of dark details without actual black zones. My later FF15 HDR test gave me fade to blacks where this didn't seem like an issue anymore.
The local dimming is still great, you just have to think of it as dimming most of the time with actual blackout in large black spaces only. Flipping between the settings it continually improved contrast and never did it erase fine details in those dark areas. With full local dimming the image looks best but some of those fine and tiny details in the darkest spaces you have to be looking for deliberately while on medium you see everything without needing to focus for them. So you can choose between full or medium depending on what you prefer in this regard.
One major reason I'm favoring medium over full for SDR is fade to black. Every fade to black was a reminder that I never saw actual black in those very dark scenes, when the backlight drops to zero on the fade to black it breaks the dark room immersion. Having it on medium leaves the smallest amount of backlighting and It keeps me connected to what I'm watching better. The media I was watching never had true black beyond very small spots, it was just generally dark scenes, so I would likely have this complaint on an OLED too and I'm just not used to seeing the screen go pitch black like it was powered off.
COLOR
The colors are good. I'm used to using night light and would not be bothered by red tint so I could be biased or conditioned to not notice it, but I was paying attention here and I didn't notice this. Next to the M32U IPS that's a very well regarded display for color vibrance. My M32U produces phenomenal reds that will make you start to love the color red so you can't expect this AOC VA panel to match that exceptional case but it's sure as hell not lacking like the prior MSI. I had no issues with the AOC here, if anything it made the Gigabyte M32U look too yellow which I noticed on white screens that it has a yellow tint. This AOC looked way better in any really bright areas and of course darker areas. So the color is balanced for content.
What I am having trouble with is the desktop experience. Application icons just look funny, like if I jacked up the colors too much. I noticed with the previous MSI I returned that it would look better on sRGB mode with stronger colors but it would reveal artifacts in poor quality streams. It seems like the color gamut default mode is stronger then sRGB and both will reveal artifacts. Then there's DCI-P3 which does best to hide those artifacts but they just can't be unseen since the contrast on this allows more dark details to show. So I'm not sure what to do about colors. For gaming it's good, for streaming and artifacts in compression this reveals the unseen imperfections.
TEXT CLARITY
This fails. Out of the box had scanlines but the low input latency mode was the culprit. Even when turning that off this doesn't look crisp as other 27" 1440p displays that I could just read with ease at 100% scale which this requires scaling up the size. There's no setting for sharpness I can find in case that's too jacked up. Rtings rated this 7.5/10 and I've seen rated 7/10 displays give better text.
LOCAL DIMMING - HDR
Run this on full local dimming when doing HDR. The added backlight from medium will wash out the darkest details unlike in SDR where it's easier to see dark details on medium. My HDR testing is limited.
Mass Effect Andromeda on PC looked amazing 1440p ultra running 110-130 fps. I could go in a dark room with flashlights, or back outside where it was daytime with lots of lightning and the lightning bolts really flashed without needing the rest of the atmosphere to be dark.
Mass Effect 2 legendary edition remaster on PS5 doesn't take advantage of HDR so well. Any other displays I tested would wash out the colors more then what this monitor did, this one maintaining more similar color between SDR and HDR. the game just doesn't show off bright lights in the atmosphere or from combat powers so well to utilize HDR.
FF15 on PS5, this looked graphically inferior to Mass Effect 2 on every 1440p or 4K display I tested these on before. This time around the contrast capabilities from this display shined. You can either be in the dark woods or a dark cave with nothing but flashlights and combat effects for light and you get the pitch black where it should be, and dark details can be seen elsewhere with the lights flashing nice.
Stellar Blade PS5. I think the game is screwed up for HDR because the black background in the menus turned grey. I will have to edit this back after testing it back on my M32U. This game just turn off HDR.
submitted by Cyber-exe to buildapcmonitors [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 23:50 noahxryn Help i’m picky with perfumes

I’m new to fragrances so i’ve been trying to get my nose on as many as I can so I can get a feel for what I like and what I don’t. I’ve come to conclusion that i’m very picky and have only found a few perfumes that are a love for me. What other perfumes do you think i’d like? I’d love something for the hot weather coming up but i’d take any recommendations you have :) My two favorite perfumes:
Kayali Eden Sparkling Lychee
Top Notes: Lychee, Black Currant, Red Apple and Italian Lemon Mid Notes: Violet, Rose and Jasmine Sambac Base Notes: Sugar, Vanilla Absolute, Musk, Amber, Sandalwood and Cedar
Le Monde Gourmand Fraise Fouettée
Top Notes: Fresh Strawberries, Florida Orange, Hint of Banana Mid Notes: Heliotrope Flower, Soft Butter, Coconut Water Base Notes: Whipped Sugar, Vanilla Cream
A like, almost love for me is: Skylar Boardwalk Delight
Top notes: Aquatic Accord, Watery Apple, Juicy Raspberry Sorbet Mid notes: Water Lily, Guava Flower, Coconut Milk Base notes: Cotton Candy, Vanilla, Solar Amber, Musk
submitted by noahxryn to FemFragLab [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 23:46 Dann-Oh [USA - 92336] (H) Marvel Champions Lot (W) LOTR Journeys in Middle-earth, PayPal

Buyer pays shipping (via Pirate Ship), or happy to meet for local sales.
Game has been very lightly used
I cant remember if there is any of the X-Men content in the lot. Ill have to check it when I get home and update.
For sale: Marvel Champions Lot
Want:
The Lord of the Rings: Journeys in Middle-earth Lot
Paypal
submitted by Dann-Oh to BoardGameExchange [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 23:39 Savings-Philosophy66 Ticket booking Scam? http://cheap-pro.com/

I fairly sure this is a scam, but this is one I haven't seen before and I'm not sure how the scam might work.
Maybe someone here can explain what the catch is
I meet this girl online (I think Instagram) but they are all alike now, 99% seem to be scammers).
We talked for a couple of days, just chit-chat, and then she wanted to move to WhatsApp or Telegram. I told her I prefer Telegram, so we continued our conversation there.
I was waiting for the crypto pitch, but it hasn't come, yet.
Instead she explained she was helping her sister on an international air ticketing site. She said to complete ticket booking tasks, and she made about $3K doing it. No explanation yet.
She sent me a screenshot of the site, and told it to me. cheap-pro-dot-com
When I asked her for more details she replied:
Cheap is a platform that helps global airlines increase their visibility and ticket sales. It was founded by the Kayak-dot-com subsidiary of Booking Holdings. Cheap is equivalent to an intermediary, connecting consumers who love travel with merchants who need to increase sales and bookings.
She was doing it as a part-time job and she can only do a few each day, and one mobile phone can only log in to one account, and an invitation code is required to join. She said you can only complete the task 20 times per day.
She offered to walk me through it, and I said maybe tomorrow (which was a couple of days ago). My first check, was the domain name, which was only 10 days old. [1st red flag]
Then she asked me if I would be willing to help her, that she would pay me between $20-200 in commission based on the progress of the work completed.
I asked what's the work and she replied - ordering task and click submit. When I told her I was confused she said not to worry she would teach me [for me 2nd red flag]
She also said it only takes 20 minutes to complete each task.
The next day she asked me if I was ready to start and she said the url was [posted in title] which also goes to .com, She also provided me with an account number (which is a mobile cell phone number and a password, which was "123456" [3rd red flag]
Again, she wants me to log in and send her a screen shot and she will mark the steps for me [4th red flag]
I have not figured out if this is a scam [Yes I think it is] and how it works or what's the catch
Has anyone know anything about this?
Thanks
submitted by Savings-Philosophy66 to Scams [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 23:29 TheBigFish2004 [WTS] Eotech EXPS2 + STS with PA full size SLX 3x magnifier combo! Like new.

Timestamp https://imgur.com/a/xhuB8A3
Serial photo in timestamp
Serial # A2376481
Glass/reticle pics (impossible for me to get the reticle to look right through my iphone, I took 10+ and this was my best) https://imgur.com/a/ixR4R6P Can certainly send more upon request or videos.
Combo only, not splitting at this time.
These were on a safe queen, no scratches or delam, on the eotech. Fantastic condition 2022 inspection date. The PA magnifier is nice - it’s way better than the older gen models and better eye relief than the micro
Asking price is: $669 PPFF shipped and insured
Check out my other crap for package deals! https://www.reddit.com/GunAccessoriesForSale/s/74pcz8i3PQ
Only possible trades: C7 upper PA 3x prism - full size or micro
Reply then PM me
submitted by TheBigFish2004 to GunAccessoriesForSale [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 23:13 DirkBelig What 3rd Party Hub For King 95 If Adding Fans Separately?

Micro Center has really screwed the pooch with their stocking of the King 95 Pro. First it took a few months to even get Pros in and then they only got black and white (I want red) and the pricing is above Amazon and Newegg. They also cranked up the prices of the regular King 95 $10-$20.
They clearly know they're losing sales due to the lack of Pros because now they're offering 50% off Montech fans when purchased with a vanilla case. There's an issue with some of the required fans not discounting in the cart (I'll hit up MC chat support about that later), but it would be $110 for the red case and should be $35 for the same assortment of fans, making for $25 savings over the Pro if not for needing to buy a hub.
The Question: What hub could I get that will allow discrete control of fan speeds and RGB as opposed to the Montech splitter's One Speed & Color To Rule Them All hub? (I want to use the layouts of SignalRGB.) A quick look around shows that unless you go with proprietary controllers like a Corsair Commander (which only controls Corsair fans) anything you get is just a splitter and there are plenty for <$20.
While the hassle of having to put in all the fans and wire them sucks, if I can save a few bucks off the Pro price. If it's going to be a wash, I'll just order from elsewhere. But if I could do discrete control for not much more, that'd be cool.
Thanks in advance!
submitted by DirkBelig to MontechPC [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 23:12 Tetragon213 The Monaco mystery of the disappearing diamond of 2004, aka "How not to do a publicity stunt".

The Monaco Grand Prix is sometimes referred to as the Crown Jewel of the Formula 1 calendar, and (with the exception of the 2020 season due to, ahem, "operating restrictions") has been on the calendar each year without fail since 1955. Held in the streets of Monte Carlo, this event is one of the most prestigious races in all of motorsport, held amongst all the glitz and glamour of the fabulous wealth of the Cote d'Azur. It also happens to be the site of one of Formula 1's more unusual (and light-hearted) mysteries: the missing Monaco diamond. With the Monaco Grand Prix being held this weekend, I thought it would be nice to discuss this little legend of Formula 1 history.
In 2004, the Jaguar F1 team ran a special promotional livery at Monaco, advertising the newly released film "Ocean's Twelve". As part of the livery, in addition to the usual excessively garish (even by Formula 1 standards...) paintjob, a pair of $200,000 Steinmetz diamonds were installed in the nosecones of both cars. Due to the nature of the stunt, no sane insurance company (for reasons that are about to become clear) was willing to insure the diamonds. Perhaps this should have been the first clue to Jaguar that what they were doing was not a good idea. Regardless, they pressed on with their stunt.
In the seat of one Jaguar was Mark Webber, on his 3rd year of driving in Formula 1, while the other seat was taken by Christian Klien, a rookie in his breakout season.
A little bit of context here. The nosecone of a Formula 1 car is... not a very strong piece, all truth be told. It's also one of the easier pieces for a driver to break if they have a crash, being, y'know, right at the front of the car. There is a reason why Formula 1 teams carry multiple sets of front wings to each race.
Bearing that in mind...
Monaco itself is known for being a real challenge of a track. Unlike most modern tracks, Monaco gives drivers minimal, if any, room for error. In motorsport parlance, Monaco is a "street circuit", which is exactly what the name suggests; the circuit is built out of existing streets around the principality. Being residential streets with normal speed limits in place for about 361 days of the year, the streets of Monaco are, by F1 standards, notoriously narrow. Few, if any, of the turns have any "run-off" space if a driver makes a mistake in a corner and goes off. As a result, if a driver screws up here, they are very likely to end up hitting the Armco barriers around the track nose-first, and face a very lonely walk back to the team garage.
Remember what I said about the nosecone being quite a fragile piece... yeah...
I think you can see where this is going.
An uninsured $200,000 dollar diamond, placed on the most fragile part of a Formula 1 car, driven by a rookie, at the one circuit most likely to see the destruction of the aforementioned most fragile part of a Formula 1 car; it sounds like something out of a slapstick comedy.
It took all of, ooohhh, about 5 corners before the inevitable happened.
Coming out of Turn 5 (Mirabeau Haute), Christian Klein crashed nose first into the Armco barrier, putting him out of the race.
The car was quickly taken off the track by the marshals, the wreckage swept up, and the race resumed. But Jaguar's mechanics could not get to the stricken R5 until the race had finished. Lo and behold, when they finally recovered their car, much to the horror (but probably not the surprise) of all involved, the $200,000 Steinmetz diamond had gone missing.
2 full decades later, the diamond has never resurfaced, sparking endless debates on the ultimate fate of the gem. Did an opportunistic marshal or fan steal it? Could it have been simply swept into a Monegasque storm drain and washed out to sea? Might it still be somewhere around Sector 1 of the Circuit de Monte Carlo? There are even rumours that, at the last minute, Jaguar swapped the real diamonds on the nosecones for replicas.
The idea of the diamond becoming dislodged and promptly "acquired" by an opportunistic marshal or fan in the grandstands is a very real possibility. Fans have been known for their "creative acquisition" of "souvenirs" in the past, up to and including things as small as marbles (motorsport parlance for bits of rubber shed from tyres) after a race. A $200,000 diamond would likely make for the ultimate souvenir from a race.
Alternatively, there is also a good chance that the diamond was swept into the drains. If that is the case, it's almost certainly somewhere out in the harbour by now, never to be seen again until erosion and/or continental subduction consume it once and for all, barring some freak occurrence with a random diver who spots a weird glinting object on the seafloor.
Perhaps the diamond ended up being carried off with the tyre barrier and dropped far away from Sector 1, or it might even be somewhere around there.
As for the rumours of the whole thing being a sham, well, there's some merit to this idea as well. Seeing as most F1 engineers and marketing people aren't exactly idiots, it doesn't seem that farfetched for a quick swap to have been done on the nosecone, perhaps changing out the diamond for a piece of Cubic Zirconia or even just some clear glass/plastic. Not as if you'd notice the difference from 40 feet away on a blur moving at around 150mph anyway. Though, it's worth noting that Jaguar's Head of Communications and Public Affairs, one Nav Sidhu, has bluntly denied these allegations. Sidhu, incidentally, remains firmly of the belief that someone, somewhere out there has his $200,000 diamond. Equally, Klien saw the real diamond in his car before he got in, and it certainly didn't leave his sight until he crashed at Turn 5!
All's well that ends well, however, and Jaguar ultimately got exactly what they wanted from the stunt: publicity. For several weeks, the story of the disappearing diamond was in the news all over the world. The team's name was all over the headlines, with flashy pictures of their car. And while yes, some people called them out as reckless for putting on such an insane stunt, the old saying "There's no such thing as bad publicity" certainly applies. There is some merit to the idea that the publicity was a major factor in convincing another buyer to take Jaguar out of Ford Motors' hands. Incidentally, that buyer happened to be one Red Bull GmBH, the current reigning F1 World Constructors Champions!
The Monaco mystery of the disappearing diamond remains one of the most unusual and perhaps more light-hearted mysteries of the great sport. One thing is for certain, the idea of putting multi-thousand dollar gemstones on the most vulnerable parts of racing cars was not revisited again to my knowledge in motorsport!
Further reading and listening:
https://www.formula1.com/en/latest/article/listen-to-the-incredible-true-story-of-monacos-lost-diamond-in-first-of-a.7HGzmXmLsKpSYaKsBPk92d
https://www.thedrive.com/news/44733/an-f1-team-lost-a-250000-diamond-at-the-monaco-gp-and-its-still-missing-today
submitted by Tetragon213 to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 23:08 MusselmansDietPepsi "The Big Giant Art & Flea Market" - Saturday 5/25 - Close to Downtown Farmers Market

submitted by MusselmansDietPepsi to bentonville [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 22:59 bomblamb I've had one good sleep in my entire life and I'm nearly constantly exhausted with other symptoms.

INFO: 28M 5"10 155 pounds United States
So, yeah, at this point I'm kind of just trying to survive. I've tried going to doctors and I realize that...this might be it for me. Was already a lethargic, slightly fat child growing up and got "fit" in my early 20s--to my shock, it had 0 influence on my condition. But hey, at least I have muscle now, eat better food, and I'm a healthy weight?
The one good sleep took place under weird circumstances; stayed up all night - I usually sleep at a good time and get 8 hours - was talking to a friend, etc. I woke up late in the afternoon and...everything felt different instantly. I flew out of bed, noticed my dark circles I've had since I was young were gone, could actually THINK for once, etc. Even walking outside just felt...different. I wasn't getting far more tired just walking around like I usually get. I have had a few other decent days, of course, though they were pretty rare and weren't quite the same feel. I also went to the hospital for a GI illness and was given some sort of IV or injection that made me feel more alive than I had in a few years--but it only lasted, what, an hour? Maybe it was just drugs. Note that I have been treated before with meds and given pain killers before. None ever made me feel that great. Some foods do make me feel weird, but a basic allergy panel just indicated I am severely allergic to shrimp, mold (like everyone), and dust. Antihistamines don't make me feel better.
Misc. symptoms or odd things:
Eyes and eye area feel and look fucked up; sunken, red, dark, etc. They sometimes get worse, they pretty much directly reflect how horrible I feel. My eyelids constantly twitch. Oh, I was told, "wow, your eyes don't look fucked up for once!" by someone after I had that one good sleep...predictably. I also have extremely severe dry eye.
I nearly constantly yawn. It is usual for me to wake up and yawn several times--and it sucks because it sets off my TMJ (jaw pain).
My body is constantly tense and uncomfy. When I briefly have felt better, my body felt much better in general.
Headaches have gotten far more common in recent years; I probably have one a few hours every day. Head also feels very pressured and uncomfortable 24/7.
Caffeine or aspirin makes me feel like hell; in fact, a few weeks ago I got deathly ill and I realized it was from aspirin, when I stopped taking it I felt much better in the next hours. I didn't even overdose!
I have one of the worst cases of cystic acne in the entire world and it has been getting worse and worse with age. I have dozens of cysts and even more pimples. Accutane and derm-recommended skincare failed. I'm sure it's completely unrelated to the fatigue issues though.
Other issues: on/off zinc deficiency (I do take zinc consistently), asthma (it's mostly very bad lung capacity inhalers don't help), bite/jaw issues (ortho recommended surgery; I can't afford it), past nose deformity breathing issues (insurance paid for surgery and, hey, it at least improved my life a little).
I did try to get some things, like a sleep study, but it fell through. I spent almost a year to finally get one referred by my insurance and...I wasn't able to fall asleep. I spent 9 hours just lying there, my body extremely uncomfortable and tense, exhausted out of my mind. I realize I will never be able to get a sleep study done.
Anyway, I'm sorry for the poor formatting, just really wanted to cover everything and I'm not even sure what's relevant anymore.
submitted by bomblamb to DiagnoseMe [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 22:54 AustralianChrono Chronologica's Drag Race Season 6: Episode 2- Prove Your Worth

Chronologica's Drag Race Season 6: Episode 2- Prove Your Worth
Ethan dramatically removes his balaclava, staring at the judges, revealing that he has shaved his scruffy beard off–and painted his lips oversized, to emphasize every word of the lip sync.
Hey, you, jump in this ride, it’s real nice and slippery inside
On the first line, Ethan back-flips into a split, and when he lands, he’s pointing to his mouth as he nails every word of the complicated rap lyrics.
Niagara Halls: “Holyyyyy shit. We’re getting STARTED!”
Squeeze my body, rock my body, boy, you make me go
Molly flounces around the stage, making funny faces and giving campy white dad dance moves. Ethan spins into a one-legged pose and grabs at himself seductively.
Na-na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na, me go
Ethan grabs the leg holding himself up and yanks it to the side, making it look like he’s about to fall…but he twists into another gravity-defying flip, landing on all fours and kicking his other leg into the air as he reaches out plaintively towards the judges.
If we could be, stranger what you say? I'm really liking that way
Molly grabs at the air towards the judges, emoting fiercely, then pulls at the air comedically as if it’s a rope. She “pulls” herself off of the stage to the floor below the judges’ table, where she pulls a little notebook out of her bra and scribbles a note.
You whip it, whip it, whip it, whip it, whip it, whip it (uh)
Ethan whips his legs around, spinning out of the headstand and landing in a seductive “paint-me” pose, then kicking one leg up perfectly in time with the song’s whip-crack sound-effect.
Na-na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na, me go
Molly shows the judges her note, which reads: “Please don’t make me steal the potion.” Ethan ignores her, cartwheeling forward one last time and landing in a perfectly posed confident power-punch stance.

The girls at the back of the stage look gooped, gagged, and gobbled.
Ethan Angel-Eye: “You’re welcome.”
Now THAT was a way to start the season. Racers…I’ve made my decision.
Shiseido Red: “This time, there’s no question.”
Ethan Angel-Eye. You’re a winner, baby!
Ethan nods, reaffixing his balaclava.
Condragulations–you’ve won this IMMUNITY POTION!–save it for when you’re at your most thirsty and desperate.
Molly Moppit: “Damn it. I wanted thaaat! Your thief of Season 6, robbed from day 1!”
Now, my racers. This isn’t over! You’ve proved why you’re here this week, but very soon, you’ll meet the rest of our cast…and see if you can prove why you should stick around! See you all very soon!!!
~
The racers enter the werkroom.
Lady Gag: “I can’t believe we’ve had our first week, over- and I didn’t WIN!”
“No mirror message, but god, Ethan, you might as well have made Molly write ONE, hah!” Niagara laughs, with no one else responding.
Niagara Halls: “I am so happy to have survived a week. I know I can kill a lip sync. But in a gown? Honey, gods were on my SIDE!” Niagara laughs.
“Funny coming from someone who would’ve gone home tonight!” Molly laughs.
Niagara gasps, before shutting her mouth.
Everyone sits down.
“First of all, I do want to say, despite me looking fantastic, and deserving a top two placement over those who are incapable of doing something exciting, talented and skilled-” Shiseido starts, as Molly gets up, walking away.
“Get on with the compliment.” Ethan looks at Shiseido.
“Congratulations, you cunt.” Shiseido starts to clap, as does Lokii- but no one else.
“Cool.” Ethan nods.
Ethan Angel-Eye: “I don’t need a participation award or clapping. I am a fucking talent, regardless of what the others in this group say. I know what I am capable of, and I am here to win.”
“I just want to know how you’re going to use that immunity potion.” Lady Gag says, playing with her bikini string.
Molly sneaks around the werkroom, grabbing another of Shiseido's wigs.
“Well, why would I tell you?” Ethan stares at Gag.
Gag rolls her eyes.
Ethan Angel-Eye: “When I use the potion, it’ll be for a reason. Smart. Logical. Ready to kill.”
“I do think we need to actually-” Niagara begins to giggle.
The others look confused.
“I think-” Niagara laughs. “Oh my gosh, so dumb…”
“What’s dumb?” Lady Gag looks as the giggling Niagara with confusion.
“Let’s scare these girls.” Niagara giggles. “With a message.”
“Hah.” Molly yells from the other end of the room. “Great idea!”
“I’ll do it.” Lady Gag grins, walking to the mirror.
The others all look on, as Lady Gag smirks, writing her message.
Lipstick Message: “BEWARE, UGLIES- YOU’RE LOSING!”
“Oh… yes.” Lady Gag smirks.
Lady Gag: “These bitches better beware, because the winner- ME, is in the first group. So…” Lady Gag smiles. “I hope you enjoy your one moment… because after that?”
Lady Gag winks.
Lady Gag: “It’s the Gag show.”
“...it’s like her brain is made of pure fumes.” Ethan whispers to Shiseido.
~
https://i.redd.it/wvrj37suo82d1.gif
In a denim pair of play jeans, with a big, pink sparkly belt, a purple t-shirt and a plain vest overlaid on top, Carly Shay Jepsen enters the werkroom with a wink. Her top and vest are covered with little ugly problem patterns and she wears a flat, flat wig, along with a big smile on her face. “Leave it all to ME!”
Carly Shay Jepsen: “I’m Carly Shay, and this is iCar-“
Carly looks at the cameraman.
Carly Shay Jepsen: “I can’t say that?! Where’s the fun in thaaaaat?!” Carly cackles. “Okay, round two.”
Carly adjusts herself in the confessional.
Carly Shay Jepsen: “I’m Carly Shay Jepsen, and you want fun drag? Leave it all to me.” Carly laughs. “Damn. That’s me.”
“Oh, first!” Carly cheers, before looking around. “Wait a minute…”
Carly Shay Jepsen: “I’m a Fresno Queen. Originally from Mexico, but you probably can’t tell from this pasty skin.” Carly laughs. “I’m a performer and a body girl living my Nickelodeon popstar fantasy. I don’t do big wild pageant drag- put me in a pair of jeans and heels, and I’m READY.”
“Woah.” Carly runs over to the various dressing stations, staring a bunch of blue clips. “So many clips.”
Suddenly, footsteps are heard, and Carly runs over to the front tables. She trips over her jeans, but turns it into a cool tumble and pops right back up, then runs and sits at one of the stools closest to the door.
“Ahhhhh!!!!” Carly shrieks excitedly.
In a massive black wedding gown, along with a veil that appears to go on for infinity, and a lace trimmed bodice, Francesca La Fataliá enters the werkroom with a smirk beneath her veil. “My wedding.” Francesca pulls apart the dress, revealing the edges soaked with red jewels emulating blood. “Your funeral.”
“OH MY GOD!” Carly falls off her seat in shock.
“…Are you okay?” Francesca raises an eyebrow.
“I’m GAGGED, lady!” Carly says, chuckling. “I’m okay, I’m okay!”
Francesca La Fataliá: “The Mother of Hell has arrived, and-“ Francesca smirks, as if proud of herself. “I’m here to knock you off your seats.”
“Fabulous, because I do not have the ability to help you up in this gown.” Francesca responds, as Carly star jumps up.
Francesca La Fataliá: “I’m the Venetian Mother of The Fatal House, and I’m here to deliver Gothic greatness.” Francesca smiles. “What kind of drag queen am I? Darkness, mystery, murder, performer, lip sync artist, seamstress… just to name a few.”
“This gown is insane.” Carly smiles. “Who did you commission for it?”
“I made it myself, actually.” Francesca nods.
“GAG GAG GAG GAG GAG!” Carly snaps her fingers. “I bought these from Ross. Dress for less.”
“I can tell.” Francesca says with a cheeky smirk.
“Wait- there’s a message.” Carly looks at the mirror message, as Francesca turns around.
“What a stupid message.” Francesca rolls her eyes. “Should this intimidate us?”
“I’m not scared.” Carly shrugs.
Francesca picks up an eraser, and wipes off Lady Gag’s mirror message.
Francesca La Fataliá: “Instantly, I can tell Carly is young. Quite young. But- there’s a charisma to her, as well. It takes off a lot to pull off a pair of jeans, and she’s…half-doing it. And thank god, there’s more to the personality than just luxury brands.” Francesca scoffs.
Out walks Anne Dior Kashaut, wearing head to toe luxury brands- a Chanel Beret in copper, with a matching red wig, a Burberry scarf and vest in bronze, a gray Gucci labeled sweater and caramel mini skirt, a pair of Dior boots and sunglasses- and a massive birkin bag. “Do any of you speak French or German?”
“Brand Whore.” Francesca states matter of factly, shaking her head as she places her bouquet on the table.
“Bien, maintenant je peux dire de la merde sur toi en face.” Anne smiles.
“BONJOUR, HI, BABE!” Carly waves.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I am Anne Dior Kashaut, and I’m simply put, your next winner.” Anne does a pageant wave, smiling to herself. “Preparing myself for my campaign moment.”
“Welcome!” Carly goes for a hug, as Anne shakes her head.
“No thanks, I don’t hug competition. Certainly not those in cheap jeans!”
“Wow, bitch!” Carly laughs, as if expecting Anne to be joking.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I am a well-studied pageant queen. Each and every detail is impeccable. Stylised and deliberate, every thought prepared. I’m entering this werkroom in luxury. All earned from my multiple titles, of course, because I am a winner.”
“Another European.” Francesca says, looking at Anne.
“Oh, are you one of those Apocalyptica-inspired queens?” Anne looks Francesca up and down.
“No, I’ve been doing this for 20 years.” Francesca responds.
“Yikes!” Anne laughs. “Délabré! Well, I’m a pageant queen. I’ve been doing this for not-too-long-of-a-time, but I can tell you this: I’m a title holder.”
Francesca La Fataliá: “I do drag mostly in Italy, but also all throughout Europe. We do not really have a ‘pageant scene’ on our continent. So, what is she on about?”
“Good for you.” Carly says with a smirk.
Francesca looks at Carly with a smile, as Anne goes to the mirror to look at herself.
“I am done with talking to you.” Anne tosses her hair.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Honestly. The girls I got here with are clearly very untalented. Carly reminds me of a cow. You know? Moo moo?”
Carly Shay Jepsen: “You’re not Nymphe, bitch! If you’re blunt, at least back it up with talent!!”
Suddenly, golden lotus flowers fall in a shower, blown into spirals by a hidden fan. In a tight velvet blue gown, with a floor length train, long blonde locks and a glittering golden lotus flower held in her hand, Nakomis Lotus enters the werkroom with a big smile on her face, before raising an eyebrow. “Elegance… Potentially.”
Anne scoffs, walking over to the main desk and knocking Francesca’s bouquet onto the floor while no one is looking.
Nakomis Lotus: “I am Nakomis Lotus, and I’m damn excited.” Nakomis smiles. “I am 22, living in Tulsa, and I am… a bit of everything.” Nakomis nods. “I love a Pageant competition, but really I love a competition in GENERAL. I am a bit of a reality tv superfan, and Drag Race is my favorite show, along with Big Brother so this is kind of… emotional?”
Nakomis looks around the werkroom and smiles, exhaling a big breath…before bursting into tears. Everyone else looks confused.
Francesca La Fataliá: “Why is she crying?”
Nakomis Lotus sobs for what appears to be 30 seconds straight.
Carly Shay Jepsen: “I’m like… what do I do?! What’s going on?! Did she hurt herself on the walk over?!”
“Are you dying?” Anne asks.
“Sorry, it’s just- I’m here.” Nakomis smiles, wiping her eyes.
Nakomis Lotus: “It just feels a lot, very emotional to be here. I am… really excited, really proud and really thankful to be here. I have been doing drag for 6 years- since I was 16, and now, I am here. Woah. This is a lot.”
“Okay, someone hand her a tissue, I’m not getting up.” Francesca scoffs. Carly hands Nakomis a tissue.
“Hi everyone!” Nakomis walks over with a smile. “How are we all?”
“Fabulous.” Francesca nods.
“Gagging.” Carly smiles.
Anne looks over, then looks away.
“Okay.” Nakomis laughs.
Nakomis Lotus: “Nymphe much? It’s fine. I don’t need Anne to be nice. I mean, you don’t want to be allies with everyone in the werkroom, just the majority.”
“Please, tell us your name, where you come from…” Carly grins.
“I’m Nakomis Lotus, and I am a reality tv superfan, pageant queen, Oklahoma original, just turned 22, and…”
Francesca La Fataliá: “How are these children all supposedly ‘experienced’ pageant Queens at young ages? Do I just not associate with enough twinks? …Or maybe the pageants they’re going to just aren’t much to write home about.”
“Love that.” Carly extends her hand. “Carly Shay Jepsen.”
“….Veeeeery 2007-core…Carly Shay…iCarly?” Nakomis laughs.
“It sure IS!” Carly snaps her fingers.
Carly Shay Jepsen: “Miranda Cosgrove… is an idol. She is an inspiration. She is everything that I want to be. And I really got started doing impersonation stuff. For Miranda and for Carly, of course!” Carly beams.
Nakomis Lotus: “Carly is giving…simple.”
In a massive black leather coat that covers her entire body with a short pussycat wig, Shayla Moon walks into the werkroom. “For this magic trick, I will transform…” Shayla drops the coat to reveal a tight silver two-piece lingerie look, with a moon motif and tons of little moon pins pinned all over the garment. “Into a slut!”
Carly and Nakomis both look excited. Francesca nods. Anne is eating an eclair.
Shayla Moon: “Moon Powers Activate!” Shayla poses. “I am Shayla Moon, Florida’s finest anime whore.” Shayla has a big grin. “I grew up enamored by those magical girls and their transformations in anime. Now, when I found drag- I realized I could become one of those magical girls… and take her to a leather party.” Shayla chuckles.
“This is hot.” Carly smiles. “Like-“ Suddenly, Carly slips onto the bouquet of roses, falling right on her ass.
“Oh GOD!” Shayla says. “Oh my God! Are you okay?”
“Second time!” Carly yells and laughs. “I can deal with this!”
“I got you, I got you.” Shayla helps Carly up, bending over and showing her large and barely covered butt.
“Holy…” Nakomis eyes bulge.
“Oh!” Shayla flushes, then poses coyly for Nakomis. “You like that? All-natural, baby.”
Shayla Moon: “I enjoy my craft, and am quite confident in it. I know how to design to my proportions and of course, love to show off the body- but like, I like being a whore for a reason. Big girls don’t always get seen as sex symbols and I’m all about changing that narrative. A whore with feelings!”
“How did that get there?” Francesca picks up the bouquet that Carly slipped on.
Anne smiles.
HerShe Kiss walks into the werkroom wearing a striped pink corset with matching lingerie undergarments and stockings. The top of her corset forms a heart with white ostrich feathers along the rim over her chest. She opens up the heart, revealing a box of chocolates inside, then takes one and smothers it all over her mouth as if it’s a messy lipstick. “Kiss me, Kiss Me….” She repeats.
“Not another slut!” Nakomis yells.
“More skanks the merrier!” Shayla smiles.
HerShe Kiss: “I know, it’s a lot to take in, isn’t it? This beauty, oh…” HerShe fans herself with a proud grin. “I am HerShe Kiss, and I am your gorgeous drag supermodel.” HerShe adjusts herself, sitting tall. “And I am your first Pit Crew member… going for the drag crown!”
“You look familiar…” Nakomis looks over at HerShe.
“A fan already! Yeah, this isn't my first time strutting in the werkroom.” HerShe winks.
HerShe Kiss: “Looks are first and foremost, my core of drag. I want to be a visual spectacle. I want you to see me and think: wow, she’s HOT.”
“You’re hot.” Shayla grins.
“Thank you! You too, baby!” HerShe smiles. “HerShe Kiss.”
“PIT CREW!” Nakomis yells.
“Sure am.” HerShe smiles. “Formerly, because now, that would be a conflict of interest.”
Francesca La Fataliá: “Sure. Because it’s definitely not a conflict of interest for the judges to already all know and have a relationship with you. Okay. Sure.”
“What’s a conflict of int-“ Carly nods. “Oh, duh.”
“That’s so shocking.” Nakomis smiles. “Like woah, we have a pit crew member competing! That’s almost like if Julie just hopped onto Season 17, hah!”
“What?” HerShe laughs, offering Nakomis, Carly, and Shayla chocolates from the box in her outfit.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I am not impressed by HerShe’s look. Loose threads it’s having like. Messy reveal.”
HerShe smiles. “Sure feels weird being on the other side.”
A long white carpet with yellow polka dots rolls out into the werkroom from the entrance. In a massive white and yellow polka dot dress, coat and matching umbrella, her face painted with the same white and yellow dots, and her wig…matching the same white and yellow...Mrs. Vicki Anderson enters the werkroom, a huge grin upon her face. “Dots going on?”
Shayla and Carly burst into laughter.
Mrs. Vicki Anderson: “Oh hello hello hello!” Vicki waves. “It’s me, your gay uncle! Mrs Vicki Anderson!” Vicki cackles. “I am representing your local drag, and proudly so!”
“Camp Queen.” Anne rolls her eyes, looking at Vicki.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “This kind of drag is outdated. And did you notice, she has that sort of HORRID wig on?”
Vicki adjusts her wig.
Mrs Vicki Anderson: “Drag is the ultimate expression of fabulousness for me. I love it- the ability to dress up, have fun and let people enjoy the show! I am a Queen for all ages. In North Dakota, there aren’t all that many places where someone like me can perform, so my drag is for everyone, and I want everyone to feel welcome and proud to do drag and enjoy the world that is my silly little drag.”
“This is such a cute concept.” Shayla smiles. “What’s your name?”
“Well, I’m Mrs Vicki Anderson, and I love drag. I'm 40 years old and excited!” Vicki cheers.
“Wow, we have some GRANDMOTHERS here.” HerShe says with a smirk.
“Let’s not be saying that. We have some babies too.” Francesca looks at HerShe coolly, filling her nails.
HerShe looks scared for a moment, then laughs.
“I’m just a drag mom.” Vicki smiles. “Not a grandma yet! The scene in North Dakota is pretty small.”
“Ohhhh you’re a Big Sky kinda girl…” Nakomis nods thoughtfully.
“Sure thing! She’s my neighbor!” Vicki chortles.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Isn’t this a modern competition? Searching for the next Drag Superstar? I’m not super trying to go back in time right now.”
It’s Drag Time!
Chronologica steps into the werkroom, and everyone nods, excitedly.
Nakomis Lotus: “As we can tell, the clothes and items are ALREADY here. Split premiere, season 3, episode 1 and 2, IF you watched the show!”
Carly Shay Jepsen: “What the fuck is a split premiere? Do they even have bananas at the movie theater?”

Carly Shay Jepsen: “Oh, I prefer a two-parter, hey! Sure!”
Hello, racers! I’m thrilled to welcome you to the slaaaaaytastic Season 6 of Chronologica’s Drag Race! Here, you’ll be competing for the chance to win a spectacular crown and scepter from Moxie Maniac jewels, plus an extra-special grand prize of $100,000.
“No prize increase this time around?!” Nakomis jokes.
The others look on.
One of you could become the next Drag Superstar… or, you could lose against one of the competitors who entered the FIRST time around. All I can say is this- we’ve already had a lip sync, and it’s going to be an interesting journey seeing where we go from there.
Francesca La Fataliá: “I note the interesting wording. For some, the words lip sync may elicit fear, but to me, it doesn’t. I am a drag Queen, and I love to lip sync. Of course.”
For your very first challenge, you’re proving your worth in a premiere talent show. Show us what your special talent is, and how it’s a reflection of YOUR brand, first and FOREMOST. Good luck! And don’t fuck it up!
Mrs. Vicki Anderson: “For me, drag is so fun. It is so entertaining and most of all, my drag is something I can do. Only me! Because everyone is talented, everyone is exciting in their own unique ways. A talent show is a fabulous way to show it off.”
~
The racers begin to de-drag and start looking at each other, preparing for each other’s station to be determined.
Shayla Moon: “Now, I am proudly in a relationship with two of the hottest, most kind men in the world, but I’m also an ethical skank, so of course, when we begin de-dragging, I start looking.”
“Oh, Ms. Anne…” Shayla whispers to Carly. “Kinda a twunk?”
Anne picks up both her suitcases at once, her muscles on show as Shayla begins to fan herself.
“…Can I come join your station?” Nakomis looks over at Anne, as Anne shakes her head.
“Bonjour. Oui, en supposant que vous compreniez le français?. If not, farewell?” Anne smiles.
“…I don’t speak French.” Nakomis looks at Anne.
“Oui, vous êtes inutile.” Anne laughs, looking deadpan at Nakomis.
Nakomis’ face goes blank.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “English is not my first language I speak. It is also a very ugly language. If there were to be a Drag Race in Luxembourg, I would win that, but instead I am here, speaking in the tongue of a rat. Bleh.”
“Nakomis, girl, come with me!” HerShe waves Nakomis over.
Nakomis nods, running over, as Anne pulls out tape blocking her section.
“Okay, I get the hot twunk thing, but I also don’t TRUST a twunk.” Carly says. “They’re… suspicious. This one gives a cursed, demonic energy.”
Anne smiles, looking at a picture of herself that she has put on the wall- a calendar with her face on it, and the current date, the words ’WIN’ on it.
“Yeah, I do prefer a fem queen, often enough.” Shayla ponders. “But also, you with those glasses?”
“ME?!” Carly gasps.
Shayla Moon: “I’d definitely make out with Carly.”
“You’re cute as hell!” Shayla says, looking over. “And then there’s…”
The two stare at HerShe, who’s taken her top off.
“Jesus Christ.” Carly gasps.
“I am a bit nervous about not being able to keep up with my lifting…” HerShe says to Nakomis, who’s also staring at HerShe’s bare chest.
“Yeah, totally, like…” Nakomis nods, trailing off.
“I just really value the gym. For me, it’s part of the persona, in and out of drag.” HerShe nods. “HerShe and Max.”
“Yeah….” Nakomis nods.

“Yeahhhhhh I want to make out with everyone.” Shayla says to Carly.
“I don’t know about you, but what I want to do is win, man!” Carly jokes, and the two laugh.
“Win the crown, win a thousand hearts…can’t I do it all?” Shayla winks.
Carly Shay Jepsen: “Love love LOVE Shayla. Amazing energy. Like, the other girls are cool and all, but this bitch is FUN. And I’m fun! We’re gonna get along great.”

“I feel a lot of THIRST in the air.” Vicki smiles, looking at Francesca.
“Certainly a lot of staring.” Francesca adds, irritated.
“I don’t know if I’m quite as pretty as the others-“
“Pretty doesn’t grab a crown or title.” Francesca says. “My family certainly isn’t a bunch of children. It’s talent.”
“I think these kids have talent too!” Vicki grins.
Francesca purses her lips. “That remains to be seen.”
~
Chronologica goes to visit the racers.
HerShe Kiss! What a twist it is seeing YOU here.
“Doesn’t it feel RIGHT, though?” HerShe smiles, chuckling in a playful manner and throwing her long, flowing boy locks over her shoulder, in a flounce like she’s done it 1000s of times before.
It feels like a grand opportunity to me.
HerShe smiles.
Tell me, what is your talent show?
“I’ll be doing a sexy, hot STRIPTEASE.” HerShe smiles.
I kinda expected that!
“Oh, yay!” HerShe winks. “You know me well.”
Not necessarily a good thing.
HerShe looks at Chronologica with a nod, as Anne appears to start listening in.
Not a bad thing either, but I do want to understand. Why this? How does this reflect your drag?
“It’s hot, it’s about sex appeal and fun, and you’re going to want to eat me all up. Just like a chocolate HerShe Kiss.” HerShe smiles.
Well, this is a great opportunity to see you do you. I’m looking forward to that.
HerShe nods.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Let me tell all of you dumb Americans on the television THIS: your chocolate? Is HORRIBLE.”
“I think that went well.” HerShe says to Nakomis, who snaps her fingers excitedly.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I’m from Luxembourg. We are not the masters of chocolate, either. I can tell you that, the title belongs to the Swiss.”
“Well, we love to hear that…” Nakomis smiles. “Edit in your favor…”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “But the issue with American chocolate is this problem.” Anne looks into the camera, taking out a Hershey's chocolate bar.
Anne raises the chocolate bar to the camera.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Look at this chocolate. So AMERICAN.”
Anne swirls the bar around.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “A typical reflection of the American values. A marketing focused object. The chocolate bar is simple, has been like this for years, you know? It is the American Hershey brand. They all love it. But it’s far too sweet.”
Anne shakes her head.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “The issue: the chocolate is overly sweet. It’s not designed for a sophisticated palate. It is not designed to elicit complex feelings. It is mass produced and it is EASY. And HerShe Kiss?” Anne scoffs.
“I do hot drag. I’m going to showcase the body.” HerShe smiles. “Point blank.”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Mass-produced, generic-brand American chocolate. She’s nothing of style, she’s nothing of taste, she’s not for me. She’s easy. And easy takes you nowhere.”
Anne squashes the Hershey’s chocolate bar, and throws it behind herself.

Hi, Shayla! Love the crop top.
Shayla shimmies, stretching to show off their Sailor Moon crop tee.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I can’t look. What is she wearing?”
Shayla Moon: “I’m not shy about my body, and I’m not shy about being a blerd. You’re getting what you’re getting, 100% of it.”
Tell me, how do you feel about the talent show?
“I am a perfectionist.” Shayla smiles.
Good or bad thing?
“Good, mostly. In this case, certainly. Because I really do think my talent is going to be fantastic, because I have planned, prepared and thought it through a thousand and three times, and come to THIS conclusion.”
Not a thousand, but a thousand and 3?
“Yes. I am an anxious mess.” Shayla winks. “My ass is fat, but so is my desire for validation and my need to perform well.”
Chronologica chuckles.
Tell me, what’s this talent?
“I’m going to need you to stay with me, okay?” Shayla looks at Chronologica.
Sure.
“A lip sync to bad romance.” Shayla starts.
Simple.
“I have a Rabbit.”
A bunny?
“The… toy.” Shayla smirks.
OH, that kind!
“Yes. Who doesn’t love a toy?”
True.
Shayla smiles. “This is a malfunctioning toy.”
Oh dear- what happened?
Shayla makes a cute pouty face. “Overuse.”
Chronologica laughs.
“Whilst I lip sync, I’m dismantling this thing, and remaking it. Dancing around stage while I’m rewiring its pieces and adding some new special tricks. And then obviously it gets fixed at the end, and well…” Shayla sticks her tongue out.
How does this represent… you?
“I'm an engineer out of drag. I love a magical girl. I’m obsessed with the transformation story, the level-up, the design of it all…and my brand is fundamentally cheeky, sexy, cute. . It’s all of that.”
I’ll admit- it’s nothing I’ve seen before. BUT… I want to see how you do it.
Shayla grins. “Get ready!”
Shayla Moon: “I know I am doing something off-kilter. But that’s me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Hello, Nakomis.
“Chronologica, I cannot believe I am here. This is the werkroom moment, you getting to chat to me about what I’m doing this week!” Nakomis says excitedly.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Nakomis is annoying. And also far too transparent about their perspectives. Too many cards she is having on the table.”
Well, you’re here. So ground yourself in this moment and enjoy it.
Nakomis closes her eyes and smiles, a single tear rolling down her face.
…Are you crying?
“It’s just SO good.” Nakomis laughs.
Okay, tell me, tell me, what is your talent show?
“A comedy set about my failed love life.” Nakomis nods.
Oh, wow, someone did comedy last week, and they were in the bottom!
Nakomis Lotus: “ALARM BELLS!”
“Oh, well I don’t plan to be.” Nakomis smiles.
Tell me, do you host?
“I do, I’ve done it as part of my talent circuit in the pageant scene.” Nakomis nods.
Okay… Okay…
Nakomis smiles.
And how does this represent Nakomis Lotus?
“Lotus is part of my heritage–it’s beauty–and Nakomis is my favorite reality tv contestant. She’s real, and tv has taught me a lot, including playing it comedic. Having the jokes is always good for your edit. So I am doing that.”
Then why don’t you do the stand-up about that? Reality television? It seems like that’s more core to who you are as an artist.
“You raise good….points.” Nakomis nods. “Maybe so…”
Think about it, Nakomis. Best of luck!
~
The next day, the racers get ready for the main stage.
Nakomis is sitting on her own, writing new notes.
“…Nakomis, you’re writing. A bit late?” Anne smiles, already fully dressed.
“Chronologica kinda suggested to shift shit up. So, I’m writing a new set.” Nakomis says. “Whole different concept.”
“Interesting.” Anne ponders. “You’ve seen the show, I believe?”
“Of course I have!” Nakomis says with a loud bark.
“We know it doesn’t always work changing, last minute. Have you considered perhaps…” Anne stops herself.
“Considered what?” Nakomis raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve honestly come here to win- I am quite focused on that, to be transparent, and I don’t really care for helping, but I’d suggest actually COMBINING concepts. That’s what I’d do.”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “I am, actively making sure she does badly.”
“That- listening to Chronologica, AND doing your own thing- wildly enough, I don’t know if it’s been done before?” Nakomis shakes her head, pondering. “It hasn’t. Maybe…”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “If she does both, to me, she’ll fail to do EITHER section well. And that’s to my detriment, to aid my likelihood of being in the top. And honestly, she does likely know things that could be useful, so maybe her going early helps.” Anne smiles.
“Yeah. I’m going to do that.” Nakomis grins.
“So, I feel like, Vicki- Francesca, I didn’t really hear about your talents!” Carly grins, as they start to drag-up. “I’ve heard Shayla’s-“
“I’m excited.” Shayla smiles.
“…Are you wearing flared jeans for the talent show?” Francesca asks.
“Well, yes!” Carly nods.
“…I am doing something that’s near and dear to my heart.” Vicki smiles. “Singing.”
“Oh, fuck yeah, I’m a singer too!” Carly cheers.
“Oh, lovely!” Vicki smiles.
“I’m certainly not.” Francesca continues to paint her face.
“For me, I’ve always wanted to be on Broadway. I tried, but I just- I have a lovely grandmother, who’s cared for me since I was 6.” Vicki starts.
“Oh…” Carly smiles.
“My mother- my birth mother, she was addicted to all kinds of things, so grandma Vicki raised me. She inspired me- and obviously is one of my namesakes. But when I hit 18, she got sick. I realized I couldn’t go to that big city, the Big Apple…”
The others nod sadly.
“I had to instead care for her. But, at the same time- I found drag. I found I could take up those singer dreams in a little persona.” Vicki’s eyes light up. “Grandma Vicki didn’t always understand everything I was doing, but she always supported me. Even in little old Jamestown.”
“So sweet.” HerShe smiles absentmindedly.
“I really found I didn’t need to go to New York, in the end. Sure, my audiences are smaller, but since they don’t see drag very often, it’s a big deal. Art in the little small places matters so, so, SO much, maybe even more. Nakomis, you get it, right?” Vicki smiles.
Nakomis looks surprised, looking up from her notes nervously. “Huh?”
Vicki looks apologetic. “Coming from Oklahoma, I mean.”
Nakomis nods. “Oh, yeah.” She goes back to writing.
Nakomis Lotus: “Aghhhh I really want to engage–I know being in conversations like this is how I start building alliances! But I need to make sure I don’t go home, first!”
“I totally get what you mean, though, Vicki.” Carly speaks up. “I didn’t really have any of those problems because I was so successful getting gigs right off the bat, but I bet it would be really hard to do drag somewhere so backwater!”
Shayla Moon: “Oh…Carly…that’s not…” Shayla laughs.
Vicki laughs. “I don’t know if you understood exactly–”
“I’m giving this popstar sensation rave performance just because I know it’s what the girls at home in the middle of nowhere need to see!” Carly smiles broadly. “Singing, dancing, glow-lights, flashy denim, like, everyone loves a tv-girlie all grown up!”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Everyone? No.”
“I mean! Chronologica said we’re supposed to do a talent that shows off our best skills and lines up with our brand! So that’s what I’m doing!” Carly chuckles, twirling around with a smile.
“Me too, Carly.” Vicki shakes her head, chuckling.
Francesca La Fataliá: “Carly is obviously a little stupid, yeah…but there’s something about her I can’t put my finger on. The same can’t be said for these so-called ‘pageant girls.’”
Francesca purses her lips. “My performance is a full giallo spectacle. Reveals upon reveals, horror thrills upon thrills, dark mysteries and surprises, and of course, a lip sync. La gialla femina–best believe it will be enjoyed.”
“Do you think that it is perhaps a bit…predictable?” Anne asks, trying to play innocent.
“Predictable?” Francesca’s tone curls in irritation.
“Well, quite, yes. I personally am known for being fantastically pretty, but I am not just parading around my body and how pretty I am. I will work to be the surprise in the talent show. Taking advantage of my natural talents, and twisting them into something new.” Anne smiles haughtily.
Francesca seethes. “You think my horror reveal performance won’t surprise?”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “Now. Italian chocolate is a different type of story. Bitter, truffley, over-flavor, nutty. It lingers in the mouth, even when you do not want it. Little bits of powder get all over and everywhere.”
HerShe applies her blush, puffing her lips as she looks in the mirror, while Francesca glares at Anne with an icy expression.
Anne shrugs. “I just mean that it is exactly what everyone would think you would be doing.”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “The good thing about a Hershey’s bar of chocolate is that it is essentially harmless. It is not biting enough to do anything to anyone too bad, and you can throw it away, and not have a problem. An Italian chocolate, however…Amadei? Caffarel? Domori?”
“You’re so funny, Anne.” Francesca says, gritting her teeth.
“What is giallo, may I ask?” Shayla looks over, as Francesca’s face suddenly softens. “I am not the most pop culture-oriented.”
“That’s crazy, because I look at you, and think ANIME!” Carly grins.
“I know anime, but I don’t know much else, honestly.” Shayla shrugs.
“Giallo means yellow, in Italian. But the real origins of it for me are the murder mysteries- Italian horror movies. My brother was a huge fan- he actually enjoyed it in its heyday, the… 70s.”
“Old.” Anne whispers.
“They are shocking horror movies–blood, gore and guts. But beyond it, the main theme lies in going beyond the Anglo-American taxonomic boring imaginary.” Francesca shrugs.
“What’s that-” Carly raises an eyebrow. “...Mean?”
“It’s not the typical-” Francesca contorts her mouth. “American horror moment!!!” She speaks in an faux American accent. “It’s about the confusing genre mix. It is hard to understand, it is inaccessible, it is terrifying…”
“I love that.” Shayla smiles.
“Orgasma, blood and black lace, paranoia…” Francesca speaks with passion in her voice. “And I believe I can do so much with this in my drag. For me, the idea of transformation into a dark, alternative form of drag- something art, something confusing, exciting and bloody… that’s my drag. And for this BRANDING challenge-” Francesca looks at Anne. “It is the perfect choice I believe. It’s my talent.”
Shayla Moon: “I can’t believe that Francesca… is such a damn nerd like me!” Shayla laughs.
“What did you say?” Anne eyes Francesca, looking over.
“I said…” Francesca looks straight at Anne. “I’m going to slaughter you.”
Anne Dior Kashaut: “So… the real thing is, Italian chocolate is going to kill your dog, in thirty minutes.”
An alarm sounds, announcing it’s time for the talent show to begin. Carly and Shayla whoop with enthusiasm. Vicki rubs her hands together eagerly. HerShe dabs a bit more blush onto her nose. Nakomis looks up from her notes, gasping in surprise. Anne smirks.
Anne Dior Kashaut: “In the worst case scenario, I know my dog will not be the one dying today.”
~
Stats
Voting
Spreadsheet
submitted by AustralianChrono to ChronologicasDragRace [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 22:44 BOfficeStats Domestic BOT Presale Tracking (May 23). Final Thursday preview comps/predictions: Furiosa ($3.99M/$4.09M) and Garfield ($1.23M/$1.38M). Garfield is estimated to have grossed $0.57M from Early Access showings.

BoxOfficeTheory Presale Tracking
USA Showtimes As of May 17
Presales Data (Google Sheets Link)
BoxOfficeReport Previews
DOMESTIC PRESALES
Furiosa Average Thursday Comp/Prediction assuming $3.5M for crazymoviekid, $5M for el sid, $4.4M for keysersoze123, and $4M for YM!: $3.99M/$4.09M
Hit Man
The Garfield Movie EA Estimate: $0.57M
The Garfield Movie Thursday Comp/Prediction assuming $1.55M for keysersoze123: $1.23M/$1.38M
Domestic Calendar Dates (last updated May 16):
MAY
JUNE
JULY
AUGUST
Presale Tracking Posts:
April 23
April 25
April 27
April 30
May 2
May 4
May 7
May 9
May 11
May 14
May 16
May 18
May 21
Note: I have removed most tracking data that has not been updated for 2 weeks. I think there is value in keeping data for a week or two but at a certain point they start to lose their value and should not be treated the same as more recent tracking data.
submitted by BOfficeStats to boxoffice [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 22:41 Prestigious-Hat-1156 Anyone had anything similar and know how to treat it ??

Anyone had anything similar and know how to treat it ??
I woke up with some kind of scab and when I peeled it this appeared it’s extremely bright and red, I’m scared that it’s permanent as I’ve had permanent red blemishes pop up on my nose and they have stayed for years
submitted by Prestigious-Hat-1156 to acne [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 22:33 finestpiano Red Spot on Nose for Months After Pimple – Help Needed!

Red Spot on Nose for Months After Pimple – Help Needed!
Hi everyone,
I had a pimple on my nose a few months ago, and now there's a red spot that hasn't gone away. I've tried different skincare products, but nothing works. Has anyone experienced this or have any tips to get rid of it?
Does Isotretinoin (Accutane) help?
Thanks in advance!
https://preview.redd.it/02sullhfl82d1.jpg?width=538&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=36842e17f19d89f59ddc9787b755af02339b1d7b
submitted by finestpiano to SkincareAddicts [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 22:28 PeggyWasMyFriend [US-SC] [H]Injustice TBPs, Cap America TBPs, Batman TBPs + HC, Wonder Woman HCs [W] Paypal

These are all in fine condition - only selling because I've either got these materials in other formats or don't think I'll read them again. Add $5 for media mail shipping on each order.
Spine pic of all for sale
Injustice Year 1-3 Complete Collections - $35 for all 3 *Pics 1 and 2
Captain America - $30 for the below 3 *Captain America: Winter Soldier Ultimate TPB -$10 *Captain America: Red Menace Ultimate TPB - $10 *Captain America: The Death of Captain America Complete TPB - $20 *Pics 1 and 2 of the above 3
Batman - $25 for the below 3 *Batman A Death In The Family TPB - $10 *Batman Earth One Vol 1 TPB- $10 *Batman Last Knight On Earth HC - $15 *Pics 1 and 2 of the above 3
*Batman: Bruce Wayne Murderer & Fugitive TPBs - $100 Pics 1 and 2
Wonder Woman - $30 for all 3 *WW Earth One Vol 1-3 HCs - $15 each Pics 1 and 2
submitted by PeggyWasMyFriend to comicswap [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 22:24 midwayer Appalling Nightmare Experience with Market Square Jewelers: An Update

I posted here a few months ago about significant issues with my engagement ring from Market Square Jewelers (MSJ), a local jeweler in New England with a location in Cambridge, Massachusetts. A lot has happened since then, and I wanted to share an update, especially for those who might be considering working with MSJ.
To recap, my partner and I found and purchased a semi mount setting at MSJ to use with my mom’s diamond in from her engagement ring. MSJ called my partner and said he could pick up the ring even though the appraisal wasn’t ready. He picked it up, proposed, and then they called him and said actually they had forgotten to do the appraisal and we needed to send it back to their New Hampshire headquarters in Dover (and it would take 3-4 weeks). This was shocking, but we tried to be okay with it, given that I had noticed visible issues with the ring when I was proposed to and also wanted them to look at these issues. The issues: ring had one obviously noticeable super sunken sapphire as well as extremely visible metal blobs around the bezel, which looked like sloppy leftover glue to me at first. The sales people in the Harvard Square location said they would make sure the folks at the headquarters addressed these issues and that the ring would be returned to us absolutely perfect (which of course they had promised to do the first time). However, there was a pretty immediate red flag when on our receipt for the appraisal (which they charged us for, even after forgetting it and needing us to give them back the ring, which was already frustrating) the instructions were to “Please also look at the ring and clean. Customer believes that one of the sapphires is a bit uneven.” We called back, wanting to make sure that more specifics had been communicated to the jewelry repair team. We were assured everything would be taken care of. When they called to say it was ready, we were told that it was perfect, but that the sunken sapphire could not be fixed because of the shape of the archway (?). Nothing else was mentioned, so I asked if they had figured out what the silver blobs around the bezel were- I was not given an answer, just told they knew I would be really happy with it. Despite sending it back for these defects to be corrected, the ring was returned to us in the same exact condition we gave it to them in.
After sharing my concerns on Reddit, a few wonderful folks including jewelers commented the sapphires were likely cut too small and that the silver was from the “setter turning down small slivers of metal onto the stones to tighten them in the channel, which is a totally cack-handed way of doing this setting.” Additionally, they rightfully pointed out that our jewelers didn’t have “the proper skills nor quality control to manufacture a properly done ring.”
Following this advice and equipped with more clear ways of describing what seemed to be wrong, I contacted MSJ’s NH headquarters location. I was put in touch with the Manager of Repairs, who assured me that they would remake the ring (without explaining why the initial ring had been sent it out in this shape, and then sent back to me again without any changes). They mentioned two options: remaking it with the original designer or starting from scratch with a new designer (once they received the ring back, they would have the original designer look at it to make sure the diamond’s proportions worked with the design). I opted for what they deemed best. However, when the remake was nearly finished, I was shocked to see that the ring looked even worse. The milgrain was smushed, there were noticeable gaps where the sapphires were too short/ not making it as far around the diamond (which was not a problem in the previous version) and the bezel was jagged and even twisted. When I raised these new issues, the manager admitted she chose the wrong designer and stated that she had a 50/50 chance with her choice (it was not my understanding that this choice was ‘luck of the draw’ - it was supposed to be an informed decision, & also even writing this now, the issues were actually with the handiwork, not with the design). She also said that she didn’t have a “good eye” like I did, which was incredibly shocking and frustrating to hear. Additionally, she mentioned that MSJ was losing money on this process, which was inappropriate and irrelevant to our concerns. We were given a choice - refund now, or let MSJ have the other designer attempt this ring for a last time. Almost laughably, we were only sent 3d images of rings totally unsimilar to ours that this other designer had done.
We decided to take a refund instead of another remake attempt due to the complete lack of quality control. Unfortunately, when we received the loose diamond back, it had two noticeable chips that were not there before. I informed the manager about the chips, showing photos, but their response was dismissive, claiming if something happened in the setting process, the jeweler would have told them. MSJ also claimed the chips were pre-existing (though months prior when they first got the ring, they called my partner to tell him there was a small chip on the bottom - they did not mention two chips on the top) and infuriatingly, claimed that the “bottom” of a diamond actually can mean “side” or “top” depending on the way someone is holding it (yet when you google ‘bottom of the diamond’ - culet comes up, which is in fact the singular and recognized bottom part of a diamond). They said that they stood behind their work, and that they have been setting/designing/repairing diamonds for 40 years. I was pretty shocked, as “we stand behind our work” did not feel like an adequate response given that MSJ had this ring three times in its possession and each time there were significant issues, and each time it did not even seem that MSJ was aware of these issues until I had to point them out (which is almost in opposition to “if something happened in the setting process, the jeweler would have told us” - although I guess the manager could have been told these previous instances and just not been up front about any of them with us). I congratulated them on 40 years of business but told them that does not negate what we’ve experienced with them, and asked them if there were 3 out of 3 times that MSJ showed 0 quality control, how could we trust them this time? Despite the clear evidence and a history of negligence, MSJ refused to compensate for the damaged diamond.
This experience has been incredibly disheartening, time-consuming, and stressful. The consistent negligence and lack of quality control from MSJ were appalling. I hope this post helps others avoid similar issues. If you’re in MA, NH, I urge you to think twice before trusting Market Square Jewelers with your precious jewelry. I would not want anyone to go through what we did.
submitted by midwayer to EngagementRings [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 22:15 meateatingmama I see you, Meijer.

I see you, Meijer.
Not bad for a suburban chain store.
submitted by meateatingmama to hotsauce [link] [comments]


2024.05.23 22:09 Minoshizu How do I stop subconsciously hurting myself? (sfw)

I have this random thing about textures that if I see something that’s not smooth, I start rubbing/playing with it, if that makes sense.
For example, i rub my nose with my fingers a lot to the point that the skin gets rubbed off (I only started this when I cut my hair short, otherwise I used to always twirl the sideburn thing near my ears). When my nose started to hurt, I switched to rubbing the small bumps on the top of my back until a LOT of my skin peeled off and that time, I didn’t even bother if it hurt or not.
Well, the skin of my back is smooth again so I started rubbing my nose a lot. Because I do it without thinking too much, I end up rubbing enough for enough skin to peel off that it ends up being purple/red and even then, when I’m doing something, my free hand returns to my nose to rub it more even though it stings.
Recently, the hot weather has caused there to be a small cut near my lower ear lobe (near the place where it connects to head) which I know happens due to dry skin. Anyway it stings a LOT but if there’s no rough skin to rub at on my nose or back, I end up just touching that cut way too often than I should and I know this would have dire consequences because I think the cut can get deeper?
I’ve always been a very big nail peeler, if there’s even a bit of growth (the white portion of the nail), it’s ought to go. This causes my fingers to always be bleeding because sometimes my nails are sharp enough to cut my skin when I’m trying to peel my other nails off.
I think I resort to rubbing my nose because I currently don’t have long enough nails to peel off? If my mom’s around she tells me to stop rubbing but once she leaves I start doing it all over again.
What do I do? I know for a fact that I can’t sit completely idly without doing something with my hands. My mom wanted to get me a fidget toy but I don’t think that would be something I’d carry around everywhere and I’d end up picking at my non-existent nails..
I sometimes try to focus and stop myself from doing these things but as soon as I start doing something, my free hand resorts to doing either of the things I’ve mentioned above. Whatever this is, I want to attempt to get rid of it before I start my internships because it wouldn’t be a good look. Any advice will be greatly beneficial, thanks!
submitted by Minoshizu to selfimprovement [link] [comments]


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