Kimberly caldwell back of bob
Kim Possible: Call me, beep me if you wanna reach me.
2012.06.25 11:45 Ron_Stoppable Kim Possible: Call me, beep me if you wanna reach me.
The premier subreddit for anything Kim Possible. Discussion, cosplay images, fan art, fan fiction, theories, tattoos, and videos are welcome! Hate of any kind is not allowed here! KP lovers unite!
2019.01.27 01:19 Documenting the ravings of a troll who just won’t quit
So what? This is REDDIT. Reddit is an American website. English only. This guy ~~*was*~~ ***still is*** a real scumbag
2009.10.27 09:00 Back To The Future
2024.05.14 02:57 KitsuneMitsukai Resetting stone into complex mount
 | Hi everyone, hobbyist jeweler here. I took a few courses when I was younger but went a different direction and am just getting back into it several decades later. submitted by KitsuneMitsukai to jewelers [link] [comments] Lately, I've been having a lot of fun buying vintage cheap/fashion rings and resetting the CZs with nicer stones. Takes minimal time and tools, so it's a good fit for me right now. Plus everyone loves a good transformation! I fell in love with a vintage style that I believe is called a "Kimberly" setting. It's technically a prong/basket setting, but it's really complex. Usually I'd use a prong lifter to take out the old stone, but I don't think that would work on this without damaging the prongs. Any ideas to do this at home? I don't want to bring it into a jeweler because the ring itself is essentially worthless, it's cut glass and base metal. Because it's glass, I could easily whack/drill the glass gem out, but not sure how I'd get the new gem in. https://imgur.com/a/z7U9khH Sorry for the outside link, I couldn't figure out how to get images into my post! |
2024.05.14 02:32 ollyfromindy How I really got into video game collecting.
My collecting journey began at a time when I had been drifting away from gaming. The big mainstream release at the time just did not interest me. This led me to broaden my horizons a bit, I began to play more independent games like Stardew Valley and Oxygen Not Included. I ended up having a great time with the Spiro the Dragon and SpongeBob BFBB remakes.
When I finally managed to get ahold of a PS5 one of the first games I played was Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart and it was fantastic. That game made me fall back in love with gaming. After I finished it I really just wanted to re-experience the series.
This combined with my increasing interest in older and retro-style games led me to buy a PS2 on FB marketplace and later a PS3 on eBay. It has been about 2 years and since then my collection has grow to a few dozen ps1, ps2 and ps3 games as well as a Nintendo 64 and soon to be an original Xbox.
submitted by ollyfromindy to Hobbies [link] [comments]
When I finally managed to get ahold of a PS5 one of the first games I played was Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart and it was fantastic. That game made me fall back in love with gaming. After I finished it I really just wanted to re-experience the series.
This combined with my increasing interest in older and retro-style games led me to buy a PS2 on FB marketplace and later a PS3 on eBay. It has been about 2 years and since then my collection has grow to a few dozen ps1, ps2 and ps3 games as well as a Nintendo 64 and soon to be an original Xbox.
2024.05.14 02:26 gloomswarm Looking at Fernando Tatis Jr.'s dislocated shoulder injury and surgery timeline vs. Jung Hoo Lee at this point
Original content and also I am not a doctor so take this with a humongous grain of garlic on top of Aramark garlic fries.
Fernando Tatis Jr. suffered a left shoulder subluxation in April 2021. In layman's terms, that's a partial dislocation of the shoulder joint.
He went on to dislocate it three more times that season.
He would usually do it with one-handed follow throughs on swings. With this being JHL's left arm and being a leftie batter, I don't think that same phenomenon would be an issue. It's probably a matter of it during his violent swings in general.
In October 2021 he actually opted against surgery because he wanted to play and not miss extended time. However when he got suspended 80 games for a banned substance, he changed his tune and decided to get the surgery.
"How I was feeling a little bit, coming back, I wasn't the best version out there,” Tatis said at the time. “A couple games, it got in the way. I was thinking and not diving headfirst, not doing my stereotypical movement. I feel like when I come back and start everything all over, I need to be 100% so I can do what I know how to do."
His questionable use of adjectives aside, it seemed like he wasn't 100% comfortable. Interestingly enough, Bob Melvin was his manager at the time, and he had this to say:
"From my understanding, I think everybody was hoping at some point in time he'd have it done. So he is. I think, as far as the medical staff goes, and even now himself, I think he realizes, 'Let's get this stuff cleaned up before I come back and play.'"
Now, what does this mean for Jung Hoo Lee?
First of all, this is entirely spectulation from a similar injury for a completely different person and player, and secondly, we should wait for the MRI results.
But simply to speculate, if the MRI is somewhat clean, it isn't out of the question--as evidenced by Tatis's case--that Jung Hoo Lee plays again this season.
Will he be uncomfortable, if we consider Tatis Jr.'s experience? Possible. Would he eventually need surgery anyways? Also possible.
All in all, I found this interesting and somewhat a glimmer of hope.
Most notably to me, Tatis looks really good after he came back. I'm not as concerned for JHL's career beyond this season especially given that he's a very young 25.
Don't get me wrong--this is still very disheartening, but there is recent MLB precedent that all hope isn't lost.
But again, we probably should let the doctors do the talking tomorrow.
submitted by gloomswarm to SFGiants [link] [comments]
Fernando Tatis Jr. suffered a left shoulder subluxation in April 2021. In layman's terms, that's a partial dislocation of the shoulder joint.
He went on to dislocate it three more times that season.
He would usually do it with one-handed follow throughs on swings. With this being JHL's left arm and being a leftie batter, I don't think that same phenomenon would be an issue. It's probably a matter of it during his violent swings in general.
In October 2021 he actually opted against surgery because he wanted to play and not miss extended time. However when he got suspended 80 games for a banned substance, he changed his tune and decided to get the surgery.
"How I was feeling a little bit, coming back, I wasn't the best version out there,” Tatis said at the time. “A couple games, it got in the way. I was thinking and not diving headfirst, not doing my stereotypical movement. I feel like when I come back and start everything all over, I need to be 100% so I can do what I know how to do."
His questionable use of adjectives aside, it seemed like he wasn't 100% comfortable. Interestingly enough, Bob Melvin was his manager at the time, and he had this to say:
"From my understanding, I think everybody was hoping at some point in time he'd have it done. So he is. I think, as far as the medical staff goes, and even now himself, I think he realizes, 'Let's get this stuff cleaned up before I come back and play.'"
Now, what does this mean for Jung Hoo Lee?
First of all, this is entirely spectulation from a similar injury for a completely different person and player, and secondly, we should wait for the MRI results.
But simply to speculate, if the MRI is somewhat clean, it isn't out of the question--as evidenced by Tatis's case--that Jung Hoo Lee plays again this season.
Will he be uncomfortable, if we consider Tatis Jr.'s experience? Possible. Would he eventually need surgery anyways? Also possible.
All in all, I found this interesting and somewhat a glimmer of hope.
Most notably to me, Tatis looks really good after he came back. I'm not as concerned for JHL's career beyond this season especially given that he's a very young 25.
Don't get me wrong--this is still very disheartening, but there is recent MLB precedent that all hope isn't lost.
But again, we probably should let the doctors do the talking tomorrow.
2024.05.14 02:15 keyruhx 22/F/USA looking for penpals
Hello everyone!!
I’m looking to find some pals to exchange letters, postcards, etc with.
I have lots of stationery and love to be creative, but if that’s not your thing no worries! I’m almost done with my degree in journalism and public relations, and I love to write and learn more about others. I’m hoping to chat with people on here or social media first then work up to sending letters. I had penpals when I was younger, and I’m excited to get back into it.
A little about me:
•Currently living in western Washington.
•I love to read- mainly fantasy, period pieces, romance. Currently reading Circe by Madeline Miller for the 4th time and I’m in the middle of the Throne of Glass series.
•I’m a big fan of anything outdoors- skiing, camping, hiking, paddle boarding, etc
•I listen to a lot of music and go to a lot of concerts. I’m hoping to work in the music/festival industry after I graduate. Recently I have been going to a lot of raves and listening to EDM, but I also love indie, rock, granola country, and anything else (not a lot of rap/hip hop though).
•I have a lot of dietary restrictions, allergies, and health conditions, but I love to cook and get creative in the kitchen.
*I watch a lot of cartoons. Some favorites are bobs burgers and gravity falls. I also like a lot of shows/movies of different genres but not really into horror.
Please reach out and message me! I would like to exchange Instagrams or something just for safety reasons. Ideally I would like to find someone with similar interests who also likes to craft and wants to get more creative with their letters, but I am pretty open to anything.
submitted by keyruhx to penpals [link] [comments]
I’m looking to find some pals to exchange letters, postcards, etc with.
I have lots of stationery and love to be creative, but if that’s not your thing no worries! I’m almost done with my degree in journalism and public relations, and I love to write and learn more about others. I’m hoping to chat with people on here or social media first then work up to sending letters. I had penpals when I was younger, and I’m excited to get back into it.
A little about me:
•Currently living in western Washington.
•I love to read- mainly fantasy, period pieces, romance. Currently reading Circe by Madeline Miller for the 4th time and I’m in the middle of the Throne of Glass series.
•I’m a big fan of anything outdoors- skiing, camping, hiking, paddle boarding, etc
•I listen to a lot of music and go to a lot of concerts. I’m hoping to work in the music/festival industry after I graduate. Recently I have been going to a lot of raves and listening to EDM, but I also love indie, rock, granola country, and anything else (not a lot of rap/hip hop though).
•I have a lot of dietary restrictions, allergies, and health conditions, but I love to cook and get creative in the kitchen.
*I watch a lot of cartoons. Some favorites are bobs burgers and gravity falls. I also like a lot of shows/movies of different genres but not really into horror.
Please reach out and message me! I would like to exchange Instagrams or something just for safety reasons. Ideally I would like to find someone with similar interests who also likes to craft and wants to get more creative with their letters, but I am pretty open to anything.
2024.05.14 01:52 ORGourmetMushrooms Volunteered 200 hours of my time the last 6 months for park, river, highway and city cleanup.
 | I've spent the last six months cleaning up garbage in the following areas in the Central Valley and Coast: submitted by ORGourmetMushrooms to oregon [link] [comments] Woodmansee Park, Brush College Park. All of Doaks Ferry Road in Salem. Orchard Heights Park and Straub Nature Park. Darrow Bar and Spring Valley State Park. Silver Falls and Highway 214 leading up to it and back from it. Perrydale Road, King's Valley parking areas. Van Duzer rest stops, East and Westbound. Old US Highway 101. US Post Office, Keizer. US Post Office, Salem. Oregon State Credit Union and Safeway parking lot in Keizer. Wallace House, Keizer Rapids Park (incl. disc golf course), that weird triangular park that's not on Google maps but has signs on River Road. Spong's Landing. Industrial Drive NE in Salem near UPS, that alley, and staircase up to Portland Road. Roadside cleanup at Clagett Creek. Clagett Creek Park in Keizer. Joryville Park. Palma Ciea and that sunset one or whatever. Eola Ridge Park. Audobon Nature Reserve. Edgewater Street / 22 median cleanup. US highway 22. Baskett Slough Parking lot. Mill Creek Park, Upper and Lower, and road/highway pullouts + BLM entrance. Buell Park. Harmony Road in Sheridan. All of Butler Hill, East and westbound. 18/22 pullout. 22 pullout with the Boulder before Fort Yamhill. Fort Yamhill, and roadside entrance at the Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde. Community Church in the Wildwood Grand Ronde and their neighbor's front property. That deadly junction with highway 130. The heritage area pullout on 22 before Butler Hill in Sheridan and the one before Hebo. Highway 130 pullouts to Pacific City and back. Bob Straub State Park, including the Jensen Property and Tillamook County Park Boat Launch. Pacific City community center parking lot. The rest stop on the way to Nestucca Reserve on 101. Nestucca Reserve parking area. Munson Falls State Park. Hoquarton Landing in downtown Tillamook. Kilchis River, Kilchis Point Reserve and assorted creeks & Tillamook Bay in Bay City. Bay Ocean Peninsula and Death Trap Road leading up to it. Nehalem Bay State Park. I'm taking some much needed rest and I will get back to it this fall. Here is Part 1: https://youtu.be/je1zF8RW7qs?si=RWwEE0PtF0tXA_xN |
2024.05.14 01:34 Horror-Consequence16 I am in love with my best friend but she is still having a weird situationship with my other friend
I have two friends. Their names are Laura and Bob ( fake names). We have been friends for about a year now. When I first met them, Laura and Bob were in a semi-happy romantic relationship. A couple moths back they broke up for some reason, i’m not sure what, and I have been too afraid to ask. My parents think that Laura has a crush on me, and that is why they broke up. I am really not sure about this. We joke about being in a relationship all the time, and have had a few “romantic moments” here and there, but other than that I haven’t really had any reason to think she likes me in that way. Laura and Bob are still sort of friends after their break up. They get into fights frequently, and often I am having to comfort Laura when she is upset over something mean Bob has said to her. Still, they always end up coming back to each other. Recently, Bob has been not talking to me. He is constantly touching and flirting with Laura when I am around, and sometimes he even interrupts me to get Laura’s attention. Laura hasn’t really acknowledged this or tried to explain anything to me. I’m not sure if she enjoys this sudden closeness or not. I think I am in love with Laura, and that makes things way worse. It’s hard for me to be around them when they are acting this way. My family says that I should just tell Laura how I feel, but i’m worried that will make things worse. What should I do?
submitted by Horror-Consequence16 to Advice [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 01:11 Illustrious-Taro-648 Trade with me
Unreleased ids - [ ] Masšh & Adam Port feat. Ninae - All I Got (Original Mix) - [ ] Antdot & Maz - Corpo e Canção - [ ] Minha Prece (Soldera & Crazt Remix) - [ ] Tough Love (Betical Remix) - [ ] Antony P X Julie - Welcome To The Diamond Aura (C.Sorrentino & Tom S) - [ ] KIKO FRANCO feat. Moser Dyve - Last Night (Extended Mix) - [ ] Mayra Andrade - Terra da Saudade (Tato Remix) - [ ] Pablo Fierro - Kababo (Unreleased Version) - [ ] Daughter Of The Sun - Ankhoi Remix - [ ] Vertigo (Carlita Remix) - ANOTR, Abel Balder - [ ] Rolling Arodes - [ ] Pontos de Exclamação (VXSION Remix) - [ ] Marasi - Opera (Original Mix) - [ ] Nostalgia - Smack That - [ ] O Amor Te Dá - VXSION & Sone - [ ] Kimotion - SHIK SHAK SHOK (master 2) - [ ] Adieu X Amana (Maz Unreleased) (RBY edit) - [ ] Donna Summer - I Feel Love (VXSION Edit). - [ ] VXSION - Ouakam - [ ] VXSION - Walking on a Dream - [ ] Maz & Antdot featuring Jéssica Gaspar - Brisa [Sounds Huge V3 24 44] - [ ] Choplife Soundsystem & Mr. Eazi & Ami Faku - Wena (Maz (BR) Remix) - [ ] Maz (BR) x Stromae - Povoada x Alors On Danse (Flex Diamond Edit) - [ ] Curol, VXSION - I Really Love (Extended) [Nature Recordings] - [ ] Phonique - BAKKA(BR) - Guaraná (Original Mix) - [ ] TE AMO - LAZARE EDIT - [ ] Bun Xapa - Thibang Thibang - [ ] Bakka (BR), Berimbouse - A Hora é Agora Ft. Rafa (Original Mix) - [ ] Father Stretch - CS Remix - [ ] Davido - FEEL (Raffa Guido Remix) Master - [ ] Bobby Caldwell - What You Won't Do For Love (VICTHOR Remix) - [ ] Michael Jackson - Beat it (Shimza Remix) - [ ] Milky Chance - Stolen Dance (VXSION Extended Remix) V5 - [ ] Nick Morgan - Take My Heart - [ ] Candi Staton - Hallelujah Anyway (Larse VIP Edit) - [ ] Viva La Vida (Choujaa & Epsylon Remix) - [ ] Moojo - I Want Your Soul - [ ] Do For Love (Moojo & REMIND)) - [ ] Malive, Luiza Gogoia, Morgado - Quintal - [ ] Classy 101 - Maz & VXSION - [ ] A kele nat - &friends - [ ] Beach house - Marten Lou - [ ] La travesia - Samm touch - [ ] Where r u now - &friends remix - [ ] Jackie Brown - &friends remix - [ ] Downstream - Lazare - [ ] 7 Days (Alex Wann X Sparrow & Barbossa Remix) - [ ] Moojo ft Gabsy - Ze Roberto v final - [ ] Moojo, AWEN - Giant (Unreleased) - [ ] Ilanga - &ME (Unreleased) - [ ] Busta, Black Coffee - Mamakusa - [ ] Maz - Ndaciii - [ ] Maz - Emoriô - [ ] 6A 123 Donna Summer - I Feel Love (VXSION Edit). - [ ] Pippi Ciez - Sinnerman (Original Mix V1A) - [ ] Moojo , Carlita - Havana MASTER - [ ] Solomun - Never Sleep Again (Keinemusik Remix) - [ ] 04 AMERICAN BOY (BETICAL EDIT) - [ ] Nitefreak-Ezizweni - [ ] Moojo - Lisboa ( MIX MASTER VERSION ) - [ ] Rui Da Silva - Touch Me (Peace Control Remix) - [ ] Eran Hersh & Marasi - Sweet Dreams - [ ] &Me - Slaves - [ ] Black Coffee - Juju (Chaleee & Sammi Ferrer Escalation Remix) - [ ] Drake Feat Black Coffee - Get It Together (Samson Remix) - [ ] Simian Mobile Disco, Deep Throat Choir, &ME - Caught In A Wave (&ME Remix) - [ ] Toto - Africa (Rampa Edit) - [ ] Billie Eillish - Everything I Wanted (Marten Lou Remix) - [ ] Ikerfoxx (ES) - Superstar [V2] - [ ] Rihanna - Take Care (Moojo Nissa La Bella Edit) - [ ] Nightcall - Arodes - [ ] Sade - Kiss Of Life ( Peace Control Remix ) - [ ] Ivyson - Girassol (Tato Remix) - [ ] SOA - Vou Morar No Mar (Tato Remix) - [ ] Armandinho - Outra Vida (Moser Edit) - [ ] Moojo - Ms. Jackson - [ ] Home - CamelPhat (Samm Ajna Remix) - [ ] Caiiro & Moojo - Here We Are - [ ] Bottom - Mano, Ajna - [ ] Moon J, Nani - Quema - [ ] Yawanawa Sina Vaishu - Alok ( Maz Remix ) - [ ] Essamina - Victor Alc - [ ] Boogie Gasoline - Mochakk - [ ] Sawa Sawaa - Rampa, Msaki - [ ] Lana Del Rey - Video Games (Joris Voorn Edit) - [ ] Pippi Ciez - Sinnerman (Original Mix V1A - [ ] Wena - Maz Remix - [ ] KURA - Sentir Saudade (GUAPO & Antdot Remix) - [ ] Beyond Us(Alex Wann Remix) - [ ] Holy Ghost (SANTIAGO & THE KiDDO EXTENDED EDIT) - [ ] Bob Marley - Is This Love (DSF's Believe In U Edit) - [ ] Caiiro - Son Of Mar MP3 RIP2024 - [ ] Bo Bom - Moeaike - [ ] Manu Chao - Me Gustas Tu (Adam Valey, LALISA Edit) - [ ] In and Out of Love (Rivo Remix) - [ ] Would I Lie - [ ] Maz & VXSION feat. Temper Trap - Amana's Sweet Disposition (Claes Sommer Private Edit) - [ ] Chris Baker - Ride (Mind Against Remix) - [ ] Hoax (BE) x Hoodia - Dune (Paul's Dream) - [ ] GO LOW RAMPA EDIT - [ ] ǍSIR (BR) - Artemas - I Like The Way You Kiss Me - [ ] &friends, Joseph (CH) - Jackie Brown - [ ] Miracle (&ME edit) RIP - [ ] Palane & Badbwoy - Les Saints (Extended Mix) - [ ] Ajna & Nomvula SA - Astro (FINAL) - [ ] Phill Collins - In The Air Tonight (Marasi Edit) - [ ] Peaty, Soldera - Niafunke - [ ] Pull Out The Fire - Kashovski - [ ] Nico & Vinz - Am I Wrong (Bask & Sabo Limit Edit) - [ ] Tal Fussman - North - [ ] Cut It For Me - &ME - [ ] Skepta - Bullet From A Gun (Colyn Private Edit) - [ ] Paradise - Samm - [ ] Depeche Mode - Enjoy The Silence (Will Clarke Remix)
submitted by Illustrious-Taro-648 to AfroHouseUnreleased [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 01:11 Illustrious-Taro-648 Trade with me
Unreleased ids - [ ] Masšh & Adam Port feat. Ninae - All I Got (Original Mix) - [ ] Antdot & Maz - Corpo e Canção - [ ] Minha Prece (Soldera & Crazt Remix) - [ ] Tough Love (Betical Remix) - [ ] Antony P X Julie - Welcome To The Diamond Aura (C.Sorrentino & Tom S) - [ ] KIKO FRANCO feat. Moser Dyve - Last Night (Extended Mix) - [ ] Mayra Andrade - Terra da Saudade (Tato Remix) - [ ] Pablo Fierro - Kababo (Unreleased Version) - [ ] Daughter Of The Sun - Ankhoi Remix - [ ] Vertigo (Carlita Remix) - ANOTR, Abel Balder - [ ] Rolling Arodes - [ ] Pontos de Exclamação (VXSION Remix) - [ ] Marasi - Opera (Original Mix) - [ ] Nostalgia - Smack That - [ ] O Amor Te Dá - VXSION & Sone - [ ] Kimotion - SHIK SHAK SHOK (master 2) - [ ] Adieu X Amana (Maz Unreleased) (RBY edit) - [ ] Donna Summer - I Feel Love (VXSION Edit). - [ ] VXSION - Ouakam - [ ] VXSION - Walking on a Dream - [ ] Maz & Antdot featuring Jéssica Gaspar - Brisa [Sounds Huge V3 24 44] - [ ] Choplife Soundsystem & Mr. Eazi & Ami Faku - Wena (Maz (BR) Remix) - [ ] Maz (BR) x Stromae - Povoada x Alors On Danse (Flex Diamond Edit) - [ ] Curol, VXSION - I Really Love (Extended) [Nature Recordings] - [ ] Phonique - BAKKA(BR) - Guaraná (Original Mix) - [ ] TE AMO - LAZARE EDIT - [ ] Bun Xapa - Thibang Thibang - [ ] Bakka (BR), Berimbouse - A Hora é Agora Ft. Rafa (Original Mix) - [ ] Father Stretch - CS Remix - [ ] Davido - FEEL (Raffa Guido Remix) Master - [ ] Bobby Caldwell - What You Won't Do For Love (VICTHOR Remix) - [ ] Michael Jackson - Beat it (Shimza Remix) - [ ] Milky Chance - Stolen Dance (VXSION Extended Remix) V5 - [ ] Nick Morgan - Take My Heart - [ ] Candi Staton - Hallelujah Anyway (Larse VIP Edit) - [ ] Viva La Vida (Choujaa & Epsylon Remix) - [ ] Moojo - I Want Your Soul - [ ] Do For Love (Moojo & REMIND)) - [ ] Malive, Luiza Gogoia, Morgado - Quintal - [ ] Classy 101 - Maz & VXSION - [ ] A kele nat - &friends - [ ] Beach house - Marten Lou - [ ] La travesia - Samm touch - [ ] Where r u now - &friends remix - [ ] Jackie Brown - &friends remix - [ ] Downstream - Lazare - [ ] 7 Days (Alex Wann X Sparrow & Barbossa Remix) - [ ] Moojo ft Gabsy - Ze Roberto v final - [ ] Moojo, AWEN - Giant (Unreleased) - [ ] Ilanga - &ME (Unreleased) - [ ] Busta, Black Coffee - Mamakusa - [ ] Maz - Ndaciii - [ ] Maz - Emoriô - [ ] 6A 123 Donna Summer - I Feel Love (VXSION Edit). - [ ] Pippi Ciez - Sinnerman (Original Mix V1A) - [ ] Moojo , Carlita - Havana MASTER - [ ] Solomun - Never Sleep Again (Keinemusik Remix) - [ ] 04 AMERICAN BOY (BETICAL EDIT) - [ ] Nitefreak-Ezizweni - [ ] Moojo - Lisboa ( MIX MASTER VERSION ) - [ ] Rui Da Silva - Touch Me (Peace Control Remix) - [ ] Eran Hersh & Marasi - Sweet Dreams - [ ] &Me - Slaves - [ ] Black Coffee - Juju (Chaleee & Sammi Ferrer Escalation Remix) - [ ] Drake Feat Black Coffee - Get It Together (Samson Remix) - [ ] Simian Mobile Disco, Deep Throat Choir, &ME - Caught In A Wave (&ME Remix) - [ ] Toto - Africa (Rampa Edit) - [ ] Billie Eillish - Everything I Wanted (Marten Lou Remix) - [ ] Ikerfoxx (ES) - Superstar [V2] - [ ] Rihanna - Take Care (Moojo Nissa La Bella Edit) - [ ] Nightcall - Arodes - [ ] Sade - Kiss Of Life ( Peace Control Remix ) - [ ] Ivyson - Girassol (Tato Remix) - [ ] SOA - Vou Morar No Mar (Tato Remix) - [ ] Armandinho - Outra Vida (Moser Edit) - [ ] Moojo - Ms. Jackson - [ ] Home - CamelPhat (Samm Ajna Remix) - [ ] Caiiro & Moojo - Here We Are - [ ] Bottom - Mano, Ajna - [ ] Moon J, Nani - Quema - [ ] Yawanawa Sina Vaishu - Alok ( Maz Remix ) - [ ] Essamina - Victor Alc - [ ] Boogie Gasoline - Mochakk - [ ] Sawa Sawaa - Rampa, Msaki - [ ] Lana Del Rey - Video Games (Joris Voorn Edit) - [ ] Pippi Ciez - Sinnerman (Original Mix V1A - [ ] Wena - Maz Remix - [ ] KURA - Sentir Saudade (GUAPO & Antdot Remix) - [ ] Beyond Us(Alex Wann Remix) - [ ] Holy Ghost (SANTIAGO & THE KiDDO EXTENDED EDIT) - [ ] Bob Marley - Is This Love (DSF's Believe In U Edit) - [ ] Caiiro - Son Of Mar MP3 RIP2024 - [ ] Bo Bom - Moeaike - [ ] Manu Chao - Me Gustas Tu (Adam Valey, LALISA Edit) - [ ] In and Out of Love (Rivo Remix) - [ ] Would I Lie - [ ] Maz & VXSION feat. Temper Trap - Amana's Sweet Disposition (Claes Sommer Private Edit) - [ ] Chris Baker - Ride (Mind Against Remix) - [ ] Hoax (BE) x Hoodia - Dune (Paul's Dream) - [ ] GO LOW RAMPA EDIT - [ ] ǍSIR (BR) - Artemas - I Like The Way You Kiss Me - [ ] &friends, Joseph (CH) - Jackie Brown - [ ] Miracle (&ME edit) RIP - [ ] Palane & Badbwoy - Les Saints (Extended Mix) - [ ] Ajna & Nomvula SA - Astro (FINAL) - [ ] Phill Collins - In The Air Tonight (Marasi Edit) - [ ] Peaty, Soldera - Niafunke - [ ] Pull Out The Fire - Kashovski - [ ] Nico & Vinz - Am I Wrong (Bask & Sabo Limit Edit) - [ ] Tal Fussman - North - [ ] Cut It For Me - &ME - [ ] Skepta - Bullet From A Gun (Colyn Private Edit) - [ ] Paradise - Samm - [ ] Depeche Mode - Enjoy The Silence (Will Clarke Remix)
submitted by Illustrious-Taro-648 to unreleasedIDdeephouse [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 00:15 the_id_ninja Looking for these tracks:
Rampa & Apache - Cesara Lina / Rampa - Cezaralina / Rampa - Say What
Collé, 16BL & Deroos - One Place
Adam Port - Move
SiiNa - Kulosa
Quentro, Tuna, Kuntay - Perreo
Jungle - Back on 74 (Betical & Arper Remix)
Miguel - Girl With The Tattoo (Wakyin Remix)
Jamek Ortega - Ride With Me
Bayanni - Ta Ta Ta (Barka Remix)
Naika - 1+1 (GUAPO(AO) Edit)
Dave feat. Burna Boy - Location (JOSEPH & :DARREN Remix)
Omah Lay - Soso (Deroos, Colle, 16BL Remix)
Lauren Hill - Doo Wop (FNX Omar Private Edit)
Parcels - Overnight (Alex Wann Remix)
Raffa Guido - Preguntas (Real one, not "Lucca Saettone - Pegate a Mi")
Fireboy DML - Yawa (AVÖ & Luch Re-work)
Travis Scott - Thank God (Chaleee Remix)
Tyla - Water (Chaleee, Cincity, Cuneyt Cilingiroglu Remix)
Drake - One Dance (Indigo Retouch)
Silence Of Love (Reznik Remix)
Sofi Tukker - Veneno (&friends Remix)
&ME & GORDO - Cut It For Me
Diplo - Fortress (Rampa Remix)
Victor Alc - I Know You Know
Ankhoi - Working Night Shift
Love Lockdown (Matt Sawyer vs. Sasson Edit)
UVITA & Sasson - Makalu
Liminal MX - Like You Do (Joji Tribute Edit)
Peaty - Ouda
Empire Of The Sun - We Are The People (Nacho Varela & Cruz Vittor Edit)
Moeaike, Alan Dixon - Bo Bom
Sparrow & Barbossa, PJ Sin Suela - Si Te Vas (Original Mix)
Drake - Finesse (Antdot Remix)
Anton Khabbaz, Dylan Lee, Jardin Du Son - DiDi
&ME & GORDO - Cut It For Me
Somma - All 4 You / All For You
Kazy Lambist - Headson (Bensy Remix)
Ankhoï - Night Shift
Sade - Kiss Of Life (Peace Control x Badbwoy Remix)
Bobby Caldwell - What You Won't Do For Love (Victhor Amapiano Remix)
submitted by the_id_ninja to unreleasedIDdeephouse [link] [comments]
Collé, 16BL & Deroos - One Place
Adam Port - Move
SiiNa - Kulosa
Quentro, Tuna, Kuntay - Perreo
Jungle - Back on 74 (Betical & Arper Remix)
Miguel - Girl With The Tattoo (Wakyin Remix)
Jamek Ortega - Ride With Me
Bayanni - Ta Ta Ta (Barka Remix)
Naika - 1+1 (GUAPO(AO) Edit)
Dave feat. Burna Boy - Location (JOSEPH & :DARREN Remix)
Omah Lay - Soso (Deroos, Colle, 16BL Remix)
Lauren Hill - Doo Wop (FNX Omar Private Edit)
Parcels - Overnight (Alex Wann Remix)
Raffa Guido - Preguntas (Real one, not "Lucca Saettone - Pegate a Mi")
Fireboy DML - Yawa (AVÖ & Luch Re-work)
Travis Scott - Thank God (Chaleee Remix)
Tyla - Water (Chaleee, Cincity, Cuneyt Cilingiroglu Remix)
Drake - One Dance (Indigo Retouch)
Silence Of Love (Reznik Remix)
Sofi Tukker - Veneno (&friends Remix)
&ME & GORDO - Cut It For Me
Diplo - Fortress (Rampa Remix)
Victor Alc - I Know You Know
Ankhoi - Working Night Shift
Love Lockdown (Matt Sawyer vs. Sasson Edit)
UVITA & Sasson - Makalu
Liminal MX - Like You Do (Joji Tribute Edit)
Peaty - Ouda
Empire Of The Sun - We Are The People (Nacho Varela & Cruz Vittor Edit)
Moeaike, Alan Dixon - Bo Bom
Sparrow & Barbossa, PJ Sin Suela - Si Te Vas (Original Mix)
Drake - Finesse (Antdot Remix)
Anton Khabbaz, Dylan Lee, Jardin Du Son - DiDi
&ME & GORDO - Cut It For Me
Somma - All 4 You / All For You
Kazy Lambist - Headson (Bensy Remix)
Ankhoï - Night Shift
Sade - Kiss Of Life (Peace Control x Badbwoy Remix)
Bobby Caldwell - What You Won't Do For Love (Victhor Amapiano Remix)
2024.05.13 23:45 Little_Swordfish_793 My boss fired me and owes me $4k+ What are my next steps?
LONG STORY SHORT: I had a terrible human being for a boss. I wouldn’t get paid on time. He avoids TX workforce commission, writes bad checks to dealerships while owing them close to 100k, avoids certified mail and Is being sued in different states. I’m owed $4k+, I’ve been emailing and have gotten no update. What is my next step besides TX Workforce Commission. I’m a young single mother so I don’t have much to spend on a good attorney.
I got hired by a family member (they’re not the owner, they were the manager) in October 2023 to learn and train to be a collision estimator. I ended up playing a lot of roles in the company. I was a CSR, Office manager, service advisor and still training to be a collision estimator. The owner is a nightmare. He believes he’s above everybody, belittles you, blah blah literally a psychopath and many people agree, it’s not just me.
When it was time for my first paycheck, the owner of the company, we’ll call him Bob, called and apologized and explained he would have to pay me late, he explained this had only happened 3x before in his 20+ years in the industry. 🚩I let him know it was fine as he said he would pay me the following week. This pattern kept repeating on and on except the next times he wouldn’t call us to let us know instead he would leave early that Friday so we wouldn’t ask about pay. I was sticking it out bc I was getting paid fairly well and I am a young single mother who was still trying to learn my way into the industry.
It kept getting worse, at points I was owed two pay periods. I would have to go to him in person and ask for money, he would then ask me how much I needed (uh probably my whole check?) he would then Zelle me whatever amount he could.
A part of my job was to “harass” insurance companies for payment on vehicles that had just left the shop (that’s not how it works). He would have me call them multiple times a day, send emails, etc. All of my coworkers, all much older men who have been in the industry longer than I’ve been alive told me not to listen to him and not do that as it would cost us our relationship with insurance. I knew when, how and the exact amount of money we were getting in. By my last week, I noticed he was lying about what payments were coming in.
Other little things I would blow off are now super bright red flags. Past employees were calling about not receiving their W-2 (it was the last day to turn them in) and the “accountant” wasn’t an actual accountant. She didn’t know what she was doing. They would also mention they hadn’t received their last paycheck from the previous year! They explained how the Texas workforce was calling and this “accountant” would purposefully ignore their calls. She is notorious for this. They would team up and I guess ignore calls from anyone he owed money to. I had dealerships calling multiples times a day to get a hold of her, even though I know she was in her office. Some of these dealerships he owes close to 100k. He started writing bad checks upon delivery of parts. Some of these dealerships caught on and would no longer accept checks from this company.
Since I was in the front desk most deliveries would come to me, including certified mail, I would sign for it then deliver it to him. He told me that I shouldn’t do that and that certified mail is always bad news. 🚩
Anyways fast forward to a few weeks ago, I’m fed up I have no energy for this BS anymore. Then I go into work, the family member who hired me lets me know he got into it with Bob the day before and he let him go and let’s him know he can’t afford him anymore. In reality it’s because he let Bob know he doesn’t care about Bob getting sued in a different state and he doesn’t care what he has going on he just needs his money, over $10k owed. He lets me know I’m probably next. Fast forward a few hours, I can’t login into my software. I confront him he says he will give me a temporary password. Go back to my desk, I realize I don’t have my charger. I use my laptop charger and Bob asked for it the week prior saying his computer wasn’t working. I see a coworker giving another new hire my stuff and I ask for it. This guy is a yes man and says oh no Bob told me to give it to him take it up with him. Bob ends up coming into the space we are at and asks why I need, I tell him. He says no and we start getting into it. He ends up firing me and saying I need to give him the company phone I have. I say I’ll give it to him when I receive my paycheck. He says that’s called stealing he’ll report it stolen. I tell him I don’t care and that what he’s doing is stealing as well. He ends up calling the police. I talk to the sheriff, he tells me he can’t make him pay me any money just as he can’t make me give up the phone, but from his own personal experience it would be better in court if it shows I don’t have any company property. I hand it over with the condition I’m given a paper showing exactly how much I’m owed. He was able to get that for me. Now I’m emailing and calling and not getting any update as to when I’m getting paid. What’s the next step?
submitted by Little_Swordfish_793 to legaladvice [link] [comments]
I got hired by a family member (they’re not the owner, they were the manager) in October 2023 to learn and train to be a collision estimator. I ended up playing a lot of roles in the company. I was a CSR, Office manager, service advisor and still training to be a collision estimator. The owner is a nightmare. He believes he’s above everybody, belittles you, blah blah literally a psychopath and many people agree, it’s not just me.
When it was time for my first paycheck, the owner of the company, we’ll call him Bob, called and apologized and explained he would have to pay me late, he explained this had only happened 3x before in his 20+ years in the industry. 🚩I let him know it was fine as he said he would pay me the following week. This pattern kept repeating on and on except the next times he wouldn’t call us to let us know instead he would leave early that Friday so we wouldn’t ask about pay. I was sticking it out bc I was getting paid fairly well and I am a young single mother who was still trying to learn my way into the industry.
It kept getting worse, at points I was owed two pay periods. I would have to go to him in person and ask for money, he would then ask me how much I needed (uh probably my whole check?) he would then Zelle me whatever amount he could.
A part of my job was to “harass” insurance companies for payment on vehicles that had just left the shop (that’s not how it works). He would have me call them multiple times a day, send emails, etc. All of my coworkers, all much older men who have been in the industry longer than I’ve been alive told me not to listen to him and not do that as it would cost us our relationship with insurance. I knew when, how and the exact amount of money we were getting in. By my last week, I noticed he was lying about what payments were coming in.
Other little things I would blow off are now super bright red flags. Past employees were calling about not receiving their W-2 (it was the last day to turn them in) and the “accountant” wasn’t an actual accountant. She didn’t know what she was doing. They would also mention they hadn’t received their last paycheck from the previous year! They explained how the Texas workforce was calling and this “accountant” would purposefully ignore their calls. She is notorious for this. They would team up and I guess ignore calls from anyone he owed money to. I had dealerships calling multiples times a day to get a hold of her, even though I know she was in her office. Some of these dealerships he owes close to 100k. He started writing bad checks upon delivery of parts. Some of these dealerships caught on and would no longer accept checks from this company.
Since I was in the front desk most deliveries would come to me, including certified mail, I would sign for it then deliver it to him. He told me that I shouldn’t do that and that certified mail is always bad news. 🚩
Anyways fast forward to a few weeks ago, I’m fed up I have no energy for this BS anymore. Then I go into work, the family member who hired me lets me know he got into it with Bob the day before and he let him go and let’s him know he can’t afford him anymore. In reality it’s because he let Bob know he doesn’t care about Bob getting sued in a different state and he doesn’t care what he has going on he just needs his money, over $10k owed. He lets me know I’m probably next. Fast forward a few hours, I can’t login into my software. I confront him he says he will give me a temporary password. Go back to my desk, I realize I don’t have my charger. I use my laptop charger and Bob asked for it the week prior saying his computer wasn’t working. I see a coworker giving another new hire my stuff and I ask for it. This guy is a yes man and says oh no Bob told me to give it to him take it up with him. Bob ends up coming into the space we are at and asks why I need, I tell him. He says no and we start getting into it. He ends up firing me and saying I need to give him the company phone I have. I say I’ll give it to him when I receive my paycheck. He says that’s called stealing he’ll report it stolen. I tell him I don’t care and that what he’s doing is stealing as well. He ends up calling the police. I talk to the sheriff, he tells me he can’t make him pay me any money just as he can’t make me give up the phone, but from his own personal experience it would be better in court if it shows I don’t have any company property. I hand it over with the condition I’m given a paper showing exactly how much I’m owed. He was able to get that for me. Now I’m emailing and calling and not getting any update as to when I’m getting paid. What’s the next step?
2024.05.13 23:35 RainInMyBr4in The disappearance of Fiona Sinnott
Fiona Sinnott was a 19 year old Irish woman who vanished after a night out in County Wexford on February 8th 1998. At the time of her disappearance, Fiona was a single mother to an 11 month old daughter, Emma.
The night of Sunday 8th started off normally and Fiona spent it socialising with her friends at Butler's Pub in Broadway, County Wexford which also happened to be close to her home. Her friends Nora, Joan and Martina all described Fiona as being in good spirts that night but did state that she kept complaining of a bad pain in her arm. Her friends and Garda later considered that this could have been related to a past relationship she had broken off. Fiona had suffered immense physical abuse at the hands of a former boyfriend and had hospitalised herself after being violently attacked on numerous occasions. Her injuries had included bruises to her face, bites to her legs, being beaten about the head and back and even a fractured jaw. She had confided in close friends details about these attacks but never filed any complaints against the perpetrator, a man from South Wexford. Despite this pain in her arm, however, Fiona seemed to be in good form and enjoyed a good night out with her friends. At one point, she called her brother Séamus and asked him to come down to the pub but he declined as he was tired after a long day at work. He later stated that he wondered if something had happened to Fiona while at the pub and had she contacted him as a way of seeking help. Either way, this was the last contact Fiona had with her family. At around midnight, Fiona decided to return home as the pain in her arm was causing her great discomfort. She asked her ex-boyfriend, a man by the name of Seán Carroll, if he could walk her home. Carroll was the father of Fiona's child and although their relationship had ended, they remained close and on good terms. He had been drinking alone at the premises and willingly agreed to walk her back to her home, which wasn't far from the pub. They left together shortly after midnight.
Fiona wasn't reported missing until February 18th, 9 days after she was last seen leaving the pub. Her family hadn't reported her missing sooner as she reportedly had a habit of traversing the country to visit people and would sometimes be without contact for several days at a time. However, after 9 days of silence, her family knew something was terribly wrong, especially as she hadn't contacted Sean's family, with whom she has a childcare arrangement, to collect her daughter. Her father, Pat, then filed a missing persons report. Seán was the first to be interviewed as he was the last person to see Fiona. He told Gardaí that he and Fiona had walked back to her home slowly as her pain was causing her immense discomfort. Upon entering her property, he offered her coffee but she declined and went immediately to bed. He slept on the sofa that night while she went to sleep in the upstairs bedroom. He awoke at 9am and went into Fiona's room where he woke her up and she had told him that she would be visiting the doctors in Bridgetown to see about her arm. Seán gave her some money and then left the house as his mother had arrived to collect him. She drove him home to Coddstown, two miles west of Broadway. He stated that when he left, Fiona was awake and sitting up in bed.
When Garda began to investigate Fiona's house in the hopes of finding clues, they were met with an unusual sight. According to a Gardaí officer, "Her house was immaculately cleaned, almost spotless. This was unusual for Fiona, especially as she had been suffering from arm pain before she disappeared. Her family told us that she was not house proud and she would have always had some mess lying around. Because of this, we don't believe Fiona tidied the house. We searched everywhere for clues but found nothing- everything had been painstakingly cleaned". Fiona's landlord also stated that because of her young daughter, anytime he went to visit the house it "always had bits and bobs scattered around". Fiona's neighbour's reported that in the days after her disappearance, numerous black bin bags appeared outside of her house. However, these had vanished by the time she was reported missing. Several weeks after her disappearance, a local farmer came forward to Garda and stated that while he had been tending to his cattle, he stumbled upon numerous bin bags dumped on his property and that when he opened them, he found numerous letters and documents addressed to Fiona Sinnott. Regretfully, he was unaware of her disappearance at the time and had burnt the bags as he believed it to be the result of fly tipping, something that was a big problem then.
Today, 26 years later, no trace of Fiona has ever been found. Shockingly, when her family attempted to erect a memorial plaque in 2008 close to the pub where she was last seen, it was destroyed the night before being unveiled and a second plaque was also destroyed a few months later. However, a third plaque remains to this day down by the harbour. Despite these setbacks, her family have not given up hope of finding her and bringing her home. They have stated that they know exactly who killed her but that the perpetrator now resides in mainland Europe. Garda have also stated they have a person of interest but, as the family stated, they no longer live in Ireland. In 2005, her case was upgraded to a murder enquiry. Some interesting information did come to light in recent years however, as a Garda information appeal resulted in someone coming forward and stating that on the night Fiona vanished, they had been driving along when they spotted a woman and a man matching her and Seán's description walking away from the direction of the pub. They also noted that two men, in their late teens/early 20's, appeared to be following them quite quickly. This witness statement has opened up new lines of thinking, including whether or not Fiona even made it home that night. However, unless a body is found or a confession is made, Fiona's family remain without answers and her disappearance remains unsolved.
Sources: https://m.sundayworld.com/news/irish-news/gardai-say-people-know-what-happened-to-fiona-sinnott-last-seen-25-years-ago-today/1754438002.html
https://www.irelandsvanishingtriangle.com/fiona-sinnott
'Missing' by Barry Cummins
submitted by RainInMyBr4in to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]
The night of Sunday 8th started off normally and Fiona spent it socialising with her friends at Butler's Pub in Broadway, County Wexford which also happened to be close to her home. Her friends Nora, Joan and Martina all described Fiona as being in good spirts that night but did state that she kept complaining of a bad pain in her arm. Her friends and Garda later considered that this could have been related to a past relationship she had broken off. Fiona had suffered immense physical abuse at the hands of a former boyfriend and had hospitalised herself after being violently attacked on numerous occasions. Her injuries had included bruises to her face, bites to her legs, being beaten about the head and back and even a fractured jaw. She had confided in close friends details about these attacks but never filed any complaints against the perpetrator, a man from South Wexford. Despite this pain in her arm, however, Fiona seemed to be in good form and enjoyed a good night out with her friends. At one point, she called her brother Séamus and asked him to come down to the pub but he declined as he was tired after a long day at work. He later stated that he wondered if something had happened to Fiona while at the pub and had she contacted him as a way of seeking help. Either way, this was the last contact Fiona had with her family. At around midnight, Fiona decided to return home as the pain in her arm was causing her great discomfort. She asked her ex-boyfriend, a man by the name of Seán Carroll, if he could walk her home. Carroll was the father of Fiona's child and although their relationship had ended, they remained close and on good terms. He had been drinking alone at the premises and willingly agreed to walk her back to her home, which wasn't far from the pub. They left together shortly after midnight.
Fiona wasn't reported missing until February 18th, 9 days after she was last seen leaving the pub. Her family hadn't reported her missing sooner as she reportedly had a habit of traversing the country to visit people and would sometimes be without contact for several days at a time. However, after 9 days of silence, her family knew something was terribly wrong, especially as she hadn't contacted Sean's family, with whom she has a childcare arrangement, to collect her daughter. Her father, Pat, then filed a missing persons report. Seán was the first to be interviewed as he was the last person to see Fiona. He told Gardaí that he and Fiona had walked back to her home slowly as her pain was causing her immense discomfort. Upon entering her property, he offered her coffee but she declined and went immediately to bed. He slept on the sofa that night while she went to sleep in the upstairs bedroom. He awoke at 9am and went into Fiona's room where he woke her up and she had told him that she would be visiting the doctors in Bridgetown to see about her arm. Seán gave her some money and then left the house as his mother had arrived to collect him. She drove him home to Coddstown, two miles west of Broadway. He stated that when he left, Fiona was awake and sitting up in bed.
When Garda began to investigate Fiona's house in the hopes of finding clues, they were met with an unusual sight. According to a Gardaí officer, "Her house was immaculately cleaned, almost spotless. This was unusual for Fiona, especially as she had been suffering from arm pain before she disappeared. Her family told us that she was not house proud and she would have always had some mess lying around. Because of this, we don't believe Fiona tidied the house. We searched everywhere for clues but found nothing- everything had been painstakingly cleaned". Fiona's landlord also stated that because of her young daughter, anytime he went to visit the house it "always had bits and bobs scattered around". Fiona's neighbour's reported that in the days after her disappearance, numerous black bin bags appeared outside of her house. However, these had vanished by the time she was reported missing. Several weeks after her disappearance, a local farmer came forward to Garda and stated that while he had been tending to his cattle, he stumbled upon numerous bin bags dumped on his property and that when he opened them, he found numerous letters and documents addressed to Fiona Sinnott. Regretfully, he was unaware of her disappearance at the time and had burnt the bags as he believed it to be the result of fly tipping, something that was a big problem then.
Today, 26 years later, no trace of Fiona has ever been found. Shockingly, when her family attempted to erect a memorial plaque in 2008 close to the pub where she was last seen, it was destroyed the night before being unveiled and a second plaque was also destroyed a few months later. However, a third plaque remains to this day down by the harbour. Despite these setbacks, her family have not given up hope of finding her and bringing her home. They have stated that they know exactly who killed her but that the perpetrator now resides in mainland Europe. Garda have also stated they have a person of interest but, as the family stated, they no longer live in Ireland. In 2005, her case was upgraded to a murder enquiry. Some interesting information did come to light in recent years however, as a Garda information appeal resulted in someone coming forward and stating that on the night Fiona vanished, they had been driving along when they spotted a woman and a man matching her and Seán's description walking away from the direction of the pub. They also noted that two men, in their late teens/early 20's, appeared to be following them quite quickly. This witness statement has opened up new lines of thinking, including whether or not Fiona even made it home that night. However, unless a body is found or a confession is made, Fiona's family remain without answers and her disappearance remains unsolved.
Sources: https://m.sundayworld.com/news/irish-news/gardai-say-people-know-what-happened-to-fiona-sinnott-last-seen-25-years-ago-today/1754438002.html
https://www.irelandsvanishingtriangle.com/fiona-sinnott
'Missing' by Barry Cummins
2024.05.13 22:41 d0nk31 Bob Dylan 1971
I dont think that anyone has 1971 as his favorite Dylan year. He wrote only an handful of songs and done only 3 concert appearances. He was slowly returning to the scene that will lead to Blood on the tracks and the Rolling thunder Revue and yet It Is this period that has bene recently on my mind (and on my headphones).
Of the Song written the most important are of course Watching the river flow and When I paint my masterpiece. It Is not surprising that in a time of calm and reflection he wrote mostly about his Art.
(On a small note he had also done a strange recording session with Allen Ginsberg and wrote George Jackson( in a way a spiritual predecessor to Hurricane) and also a very simple and cute country song called Wallflower. Very worth a listen if you havent done it)
Watching the River flow Is a strange Song. A Song about the never stopping and never forgiving passage of time ("Why only yesterday I saw somebody on the street Who just couldn’t help but cry But this ol’ river keeps on rollin’, though No matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow"). A Song so close to themes of the bucolic life of new morning and yet so different in many ways. Many think that this is about him wanting to withdraw from the music industry and yet there is "Wish I was back in the city".
I Always think that when I Paint my masterpiece Is the perfect self portrait of the enigmatic lying poet(and yet not afraid to make himself look silly, like the geese). The song has Always changed Just like Dylan both lyrically and musically. Of course there Is the question about rubble-trouble but also the Botticelli's niece-girl from Greece and many more. There Is also the cutted line "With a picture of a tall oak tree by my side" that together with some of the line from watching the river flow makes me think a lot about zen and eastern philosophy. Musically speaking you go from the slow and thoughtful version of '71 , the pure energetic rock of 75 and the many other different version even to this day
It Is not a wonder that he has sung both of these songs so many times in his concerts and being both present in Shadow Kingdom (and particularly with masterpiece as the opener).
Talking about concert he did two shows on the same day for the concert for Bangladesh. Most of the songs are on the official album but there Is also to talk about the beautiful version of "if not for you" with George Harrison. These two linked spirits with their Guitar and harmonicas, laughing and singing together, just two friend on a stage with nothing else worrying their minds. The third and last concert of '71 is the legendary and improvised concert of new year's eve with the Band. In this regard Robbie Robertson said "We had played with Bob so much, over the years, that we thought: We’ll figure it out. We’ll wing it,” and also "You know, we haven’t played this song in years. Some of the songs, we had never played together. But even that fell together, in its own kind of way. He sang his heart out, and it was a lot of fun that night.”.
Thank you for having read my rambling and I am sorry if I have made any grammatical mistakes.
submitted by d0nk31 to bobdylan [link] [comments]
Of the Song written the most important are of course Watching the river flow and When I paint my masterpiece. It Is not surprising that in a time of calm and reflection he wrote mostly about his Art.
(On a small note he had also done a strange recording session with Allen Ginsberg and wrote George Jackson( in a way a spiritual predecessor to Hurricane) and also a very simple and cute country song called Wallflower. Very worth a listen if you havent done it)
Watching the River flow Is a strange Song. A Song about the never stopping and never forgiving passage of time ("Why only yesterday I saw somebody on the street Who just couldn’t help but cry But this ol’ river keeps on rollin’, though No matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow"). A Song so close to themes of the bucolic life of new morning and yet so different in many ways. Many think that this is about him wanting to withdraw from the music industry and yet there is "Wish I was back in the city".
I Always think that when I Paint my masterpiece Is the perfect self portrait of the enigmatic lying poet(and yet not afraid to make himself look silly, like the geese). The song has Always changed Just like Dylan both lyrically and musically. Of course there Is the question about rubble-trouble but also the Botticelli's niece-girl from Greece and many more. There Is also the cutted line "With a picture of a tall oak tree by my side" that together with some of the line from watching the river flow makes me think a lot about zen and eastern philosophy. Musically speaking you go from the slow and thoughtful version of '71 , the pure energetic rock of 75 and the many other different version even to this day
It Is not a wonder that he has sung both of these songs so many times in his concerts and being both present in Shadow Kingdom (and particularly with masterpiece as the opener).
Talking about concert he did two shows on the same day for the concert for Bangladesh. Most of the songs are on the official album but there Is also to talk about the beautiful version of "if not for you" with George Harrison. These two linked spirits with their Guitar and harmonicas, laughing and singing together, just two friend on a stage with nothing else worrying their minds. The third and last concert of '71 is the legendary and improvised concert of new year's eve with the Band. In this regard Robbie Robertson said "We had played with Bob so much, over the years, that we thought: We’ll figure it out. We’ll wing it,” and also "You know, we haven’t played this song in years. Some of the songs, we had never played together. But even that fell together, in its own kind of way. He sang his heart out, and it was a lot of fun that night.”.
Thank you for having read my rambling and I am sorry if I have made any grammatical mistakes.
2024.05.13 22:14 Blankboo97 The Lost Women of NXIVM Part 7
PRODUCER: Do you have the suicide note?
HEIDI CLIFFORD (As “Anonymous Classmate”): (Reading purported “suicide note” aloud): This is a copy of the suicide note.
“I attended a course called Executive Success Programs, aka Nexium (sic), based out of Anchorage, Alaska and Albany, New York. I was brainwashed and my emotional center of the brain was killed and turned off. I still have feeling in my external skin, but my internal organs are rotting. I’m sorry, life. I didn’t know I was already dead.”
“No need to search my body.”
Was this potential suicide letter in Kris’s car coerced?
Was it her willingly writing it?
You don’t know.
As we have discussed in previous posts, nothing about the Kristin Snyder missing person case makes any sense whatsoever, and the purported “suicide note” found in her vehicle is certainly no exception.
Before we start analyzing the “suicide note,” here are a few factors to keep in mind:
• We know through information from multiple sources that Kristin was a prolific journal writer and letter writer, so we have a plethora of writing samples to compare with this alleged “suicide note.”
• We refer to “the writer” in our discussion of the “suicide note” below. The reason for this phrasing is because the actual writer of this note is unknown. Did Kristin herself write it, either as a explanation for killing herself, or for the purpose of faking her own death? Did someone else write it to make her disappearance appear to be a suicide? Was part of the text written by Kristin and added to by another party? Was the entire note faked? Was the note written by Kristin, but under duress/coercion as Heidi pondered?
• See notes under each section below regarding clear discrepancies between Kristin’s baseline writing style based on the hundreds of writing samples we have obtained from multiple sources through varying times throughout her life.
Now, without further ado, let’s take an in-depth look at this “suicide note” – line by line.
“I attended a course called Executive Success Programs (aka Nexium) based out of Anchorage, AK + Albany, NY.”
• Who is the note intended for? There is no salutation. We have tons of samples of Kristin’s letters and there is always a salutation – AND a date. If this is really her “suicide note,” why wouldn’t she address it to her partner Heidi, friends, coworkers, and/or family – as she always had addressed people in her letters? Similarly, wouldn’t she document the date of the most significant letter of her life, as she did routinely with her letters? In fact, she often even included the specific time (for instance, 7:15 p.m.) that the letter or journal entry was written.
• In addition to a salutation and date on other writing samples, Kris also typically indented her paragraphs and she also usually wrote on each line of the paper in her letters and journal entries, unlike this “suicide note,” which does neither.
• Related to the numerous writing samples we have acquired though multiple sources, Kris also primarily wrote in cursive in both her letters and in her journal. This “suicide note” is an odd hybrid of cursive and print.
• Why would anyone start a suicide note with “I attended a course…”? Clearly, the writer of this note is directing the reader to correlate ESP with the disappearance, but it seems like a very odd place for anyone to start a suicide note. Also, Kris attended two courses, not “a course”; a fact that Kris would have clearly known.
• “aka Nexium” is another oddity. Kris did not take any NXIVM classes, not even one, despite the extensive recent propaganda linking her to NXIVM. Why? Because NXIVM did not even exist at the time of Kristin’s disappearance; it was still in the planning stages. The writer had obviously heard about these plans as evidenced by the phonetic spelling. Again, it is obvious the writer of the note is clearly directing the reader’s attention to ESP/NXIVM – but if Kris were distraught enough to write a suicide note (and as functionally incapacitated as reported by her partner), why/how would she focus on minutiae like this?
• Speaking of minutiae, it gets even more obvious in the next words: “based out of Anchorage, AK + Albany, NY.” First of all, WHO CARES where ESP was based? That is in no way pertinent to the reasoning, and apparently is another clear attempt by the writer to direct the reader toward ESP/NXIVM. Secondly, this information is actually wrong. ESP wasn’t “based out of Anchorage, AK” – they held classes in Anchorage in a rented hotel space. The home base was in NY. Furthermore, Kris knew very well that this information was wrong, having recently visited their NY headquarters herself weeks before her disappearance!
•The words “based out of” (city, state) are odd as well. None of Kristin’s other writing samples did this. Nowhere does she mention elsewhere that anything is “based out of” anywhere in any of her copious writing samples we have obtained.
• Furthermore, why would the note say “Anchorage, AK” anyway? Presumably, Alaska law enforcement would be able to deduce that Anchorage is in Alaska without this unnecessary clarification.
“I was brainwashed + my emotional center of the brain was killed/turned off. I still have feeling in my external skin but my internal organs are rotting.”
• If Kris was brainwashed, she wouldn’t know (at least at the time) that she had been brainwashed. Again, this seems to be yet another clear attempt by the writer to direct the reader to look at ESP.
• Furthermore, if Kris finally did realize that she had been brainwashed, why would she then kill herself?
• The writer switches “my” and “the” in a sentence – something Kris never did, even once, in the hundreds of pages of writing we have obtained. The sentence should read “the emotional center of my brain,” not “my emotional center of the brain.”
• Another oddity is in the redundancy of “external skin.” Again, this sort of mistake does not appear to be Kris’s style, based on other writing samples. She had a Master of Science (M.S.) in Biology and she worked as an environmental consultant to the National Guard. She was a precise, clear, scientific, and articulate writer.
• This passage clearly implies that Kris was suffering from Cotard’s syndrome; per WebMD: “People with Cotard’s syndrome (also called walking corpse syndrome or Cotard’s delusion) believe that parts of their body are missing, or that they are dying, dead, or don’t exist.” We have talked to multiple people who Kris had visited in her January 2003 trip immediately prior to her February 2003 disappearance, and nobody reported any observations of any mental health issues, suicidal ideation, depression, psychosis, nor delusions of any sort. All of the people who discussed Kris’s reported mental health decline stated that they had not personally witnessed any symptoms, but rather, they were told of a rapid decline following Kris’s disappearance.
• If Kris thought she was already dead, why would she kill herself?
“Please contact my parents Bob + Jonnie Snyder at (number redacted) in Dillon, SC if you find me or this note.”
• Why would she specify to contact her parents, who lived out-of-state? Why not her partner? Why, in fact, is Heidi, the love of her life and civil union partner not mentioned AT ALL in the entire note?
• The inclusion of Kris’s parents as the sole contacts listed in the note contradicts a specific story told at the time of the disappearance alleging that Kris had uncovered memories of abuse during the class and that these purported memories were the reason/a factor in her alleged suicide. But: if that story was true, why would she include her father in the note? It should be noted that there is no evidence whatsoever that Kris was abused. As with the alleged rapid mental health decline, people who reported that story were not told of the purported abuse by Kris themselves, but rather, they were told of the purported abuse allegations after her disappearance. In fact, we even have been given a copy of a text message exchange in which the person who spread this abuse claims refers to it as “the lie.” This is yet another example of the myriad of inconsistencies and contradictions that plague Kris’s case.
• Why mention “Dillon, SC”? There is already a phone number given, so the city/state is irrelevant, and also, it is not her typical style. Again, it seems like someone with a quirky tic to mention a city and state wrote this.
• “if you find me or this note” is similarly nonsensical. If someone found her but NOT the note, they wouldn’t see the note, would they? Again, this oddity of wording is inconsistent with Kris’s typically precise style.
“I am sorry, life, I didn’t know I was already dead. May we persist into the future. KRISTN (sic) SNYDER”
• Again, if she thought she was already dead, why would she need to kill herself?
• Why is she addressing “life”?
• “May we persist into the future” is interesting. “Persist into the future” is a phrase used in ecology, which could potentially mean a couple things: a). Kristin wrote this herself; b). Kristin wrote this phrase elsewhere and someone traced/copied it onto the “suicide note”; or c). the writer had seen a document that referred to this phrase and used it.
• WHO LEAVES A LETTER OUT OF THEIR OWN NAME???? The second “I” is missing in “KRISTN.” Furthermore, as mentioned earlier, Kris predominantly wrote in cursive and she typically signed her name in cursive as well. Why, in the most important document of her life, would she BLOCK PRINT her name, and even more bizarre, why would she leave a letter out of her own name? The writer appears to drop letters and cram letters together, but there is no evidence from other writings that Kris did these things.
“No need to search for my body”
• Why was this written on the BACK of the page on the “suicide note”? And why was the note left inside of a notebook to begin with?
• Kris was a member of the Anchorage Nordic Ski Patrol, and therefore, she was involved in search and rescue. Therefore, she would already know that THEY WOULD SEARCH FOR HER ANYWAY. Also, more importantly, why would she intentionally hide her own body and therefore put her colleagues/friends on the search and rescue team through the extensive trouble and potential dangers of conducting the search for her?
• Why write “my body” on the back of the page but write “me” on the front of the page of the note? That is yet another incongruity.
• Why the emphasis on not looking for a body? The writer clearly has a very specific reason to mention this; there is a reason the writer does not want the body found. It is very rare for a person to want to hide his/her own body, and even more rare to be able to successfully do so.
submitted by Blankboo97 to Verity_of_Kris_Snyder [link] [comments]
HEIDI CLIFFORD (As “Anonymous Classmate”): (Reading purported “suicide note” aloud): This is a copy of the suicide note.
“I attended a course called Executive Success Programs, aka Nexium (sic), based out of Anchorage, Alaska and Albany, New York. I was brainwashed and my emotional center of the brain was killed and turned off. I still have feeling in my external skin, but my internal organs are rotting. I’m sorry, life. I didn’t know I was already dead.”
“No need to search my body.”
Was this potential suicide letter in Kris’s car coerced?
Was it her willingly writing it?
You don’t know.
As we have discussed in previous posts, nothing about the Kristin Snyder missing person case makes any sense whatsoever, and the purported “suicide note” found in her vehicle is certainly no exception.
Before we start analyzing the “suicide note,” here are a few factors to keep in mind:
• We know through information from multiple sources that Kristin was a prolific journal writer and letter writer, so we have a plethora of writing samples to compare with this alleged “suicide note.”
• We refer to “the writer” in our discussion of the “suicide note” below. The reason for this phrasing is because the actual writer of this note is unknown. Did Kristin herself write it, either as a explanation for killing herself, or for the purpose of faking her own death? Did someone else write it to make her disappearance appear to be a suicide? Was part of the text written by Kristin and added to by another party? Was the entire note faked? Was the note written by Kristin, but under duress/coercion as Heidi pondered?
• See notes under each section below regarding clear discrepancies between Kristin’s baseline writing style based on the hundreds of writing samples we have obtained from multiple sources through varying times throughout her life.
Now, without further ado, let’s take an in-depth look at this “suicide note” – line by line.
“I attended a course called Executive Success Programs (aka Nexium) based out of Anchorage, AK + Albany, NY.”
• Who is the note intended for? There is no salutation. We have tons of samples of Kristin’s letters and there is always a salutation – AND a date. If this is really her “suicide note,” why wouldn’t she address it to her partner Heidi, friends, coworkers, and/or family – as she always had addressed people in her letters? Similarly, wouldn’t she document the date of the most significant letter of her life, as she did routinely with her letters? In fact, she often even included the specific time (for instance, 7:15 p.m.) that the letter or journal entry was written.
• In addition to a salutation and date on other writing samples, Kris also typically indented her paragraphs and she also usually wrote on each line of the paper in her letters and journal entries, unlike this “suicide note,” which does neither.
• Related to the numerous writing samples we have acquired though multiple sources, Kris also primarily wrote in cursive in both her letters and in her journal. This “suicide note” is an odd hybrid of cursive and print.
• Why would anyone start a suicide note with “I attended a course…”? Clearly, the writer of this note is directing the reader to correlate ESP with the disappearance, but it seems like a very odd place for anyone to start a suicide note. Also, Kris attended two courses, not “a course”; a fact that Kris would have clearly known.
• “aka Nexium” is another oddity. Kris did not take any NXIVM classes, not even one, despite the extensive recent propaganda linking her to NXIVM. Why? Because NXIVM did not even exist at the time of Kristin’s disappearance; it was still in the planning stages. The writer had obviously heard about these plans as evidenced by the phonetic spelling. Again, it is obvious the writer of the note is clearly directing the reader’s attention to ESP/NXIVM – but if Kris were distraught enough to write a suicide note (and as functionally incapacitated as reported by her partner), why/how would she focus on minutiae like this?
• Speaking of minutiae, it gets even more obvious in the next words: “based out of Anchorage, AK + Albany, NY.” First of all, WHO CARES where ESP was based? That is in no way pertinent to the reasoning, and apparently is another clear attempt by the writer to direct the reader toward ESP/NXIVM. Secondly, this information is actually wrong. ESP wasn’t “based out of Anchorage, AK” – they held classes in Anchorage in a rented hotel space. The home base was in NY. Furthermore, Kris knew very well that this information was wrong, having recently visited their NY headquarters herself weeks before her disappearance!
•The words “based out of” (city, state) are odd as well. None of Kristin’s other writing samples did this. Nowhere does she mention elsewhere that anything is “based out of” anywhere in any of her copious writing samples we have obtained.
• Furthermore, why would the note say “Anchorage, AK” anyway? Presumably, Alaska law enforcement would be able to deduce that Anchorage is in Alaska without this unnecessary clarification.
“I was brainwashed + my emotional center of the brain was killed/turned off. I still have feeling in my external skin but my internal organs are rotting.”
• If Kris was brainwashed, she wouldn’t know (at least at the time) that she had been brainwashed. Again, this seems to be yet another clear attempt by the writer to direct the reader to look at ESP.
• Furthermore, if Kris finally did realize that she had been brainwashed, why would she then kill herself?
• The writer switches “my” and “the” in a sentence – something Kris never did, even once, in the hundreds of pages of writing we have obtained. The sentence should read “the emotional center of my brain,” not “my emotional center of the brain.”
• Another oddity is in the redundancy of “external skin.” Again, this sort of mistake does not appear to be Kris’s style, based on other writing samples. She had a Master of Science (M.S.) in Biology and she worked as an environmental consultant to the National Guard. She was a precise, clear, scientific, and articulate writer.
• This passage clearly implies that Kris was suffering from Cotard’s syndrome; per WebMD: “People with Cotard’s syndrome (also called walking corpse syndrome or Cotard’s delusion) believe that parts of their body are missing, or that they are dying, dead, or don’t exist.” We have talked to multiple people who Kris had visited in her January 2003 trip immediately prior to her February 2003 disappearance, and nobody reported any observations of any mental health issues, suicidal ideation, depression, psychosis, nor delusions of any sort. All of the people who discussed Kris’s reported mental health decline stated that they had not personally witnessed any symptoms, but rather, they were told of a rapid decline following Kris’s disappearance.
• If Kris thought she was already dead, why would she kill herself?
“Please contact my parents Bob + Jonnie Snyder at (number redacted) in Dillon, SC if you find me or this note.”
• Why would she specify to contact her parents, who lived out-of-state? Why not her partner? Why, in fact, is Heidi, the love of her life and civil union partner not mentioned AT ALL in the entire note?
• The inclusion of Kris’s parents as the sole contacts listed in the note contradicts a specific story told at the time of the disappearance alleging that Kris had uncovered memories of abuse during the class and that these purported memories were the reason/a factor in her alleged suicide. But: if that story was true, why would she include her father in the note? It should be noted that there is no evidence whatsoever that Kris was abused. As with the alleged rapid mental health decline, people who reported that story were not told of the purported abuse by Kris themselves, but rather, they were told of the purported abuse allegations after her disappearance. In fact, we even have been given a copy of a text message exchange in which the person who spread this abuse claims refers to it as “the lie.” This is yet another example of the myriad of inconsistencies and contradictions that plague Kris’s case.
• Why mention “Dillon, SC”? There is already a phone number given, so the city/state is irrelevant, and also, it is not her typical style. Again, it seems like someone with a quirky tic to mention a city and state wrote this.
• “if you find me or this note” is similarly nonsensical. If someone found her but NOT the note, they wouldn’t see the note, would they? Again, this oddity of wording is inconsistent with Kris’s typically precise style.
“I am sorry, life, I didn’t know I was already dead. May we persist into the future. KRISTN (sic) SNYDER”
• Again, if she thought she was already dead, why would she need to kill herself?
• Why is she addressing “life”?
• “May we persist into the future” is interesting. “Persist into the future” is a phrase used in ecology, which could potentially mean a couple things: a). Kristin wrote this herself; b). Kristin wrote this phrase elsewhere and someone traced/copied it onto the “suicide note”; or c). the writer had seen a document that referred to this phrase and used it.
• WHO LEAVES A LETTER OUT OF THEIR OWN NAME???? The second “I” is missing in “KRISTN.” Furthermore, as mentioned earlier, Kris predominantly wrote in cursive and she typically signed her name in cursive as well. Why, in the most important document of her life, would she BLOCK PRINT her name, and even more bizarre, why would she leave a letter out of her own name? The writer appears to drop letters and cram letters together, but there is no evidence from other writings that Kris did these things.
“No need to search for my body”
• Why was this written on the BACK of the page on the “suicide note”? And why was the note left inside of a notebook to begin with?
• Kris was a member of the Anchorage Nordic Ski Patrol, and therefore, she was involved in search and rescue. Therefore, she would already know that THEY WOULD SEARCH FOR HER ANYWAY. Also, more importantly, why would she intentionally hide her own body and therefore put her colleagues/friends on the search and rescue team through the extensive trouble and potential dangers of conducting the search for her?
• Why write “my body” on the back of the page but write “me” on the front of the page of the note? That is yet another incongruity.
• Why the emphasis on not looking for a body? The writer clearly has a very specific reason to mention this; there is a reason the writer does not want the body found. It is very rare for a person to want to hide his/her own body, and even more rare to be able to successfully do so.
2024.05.13 22:14 Mooshroomdude250 A Universal/Warner Bros. Meger.... How will it affect Cartoon Network?
Recently, I saw a post regarding how a WB/NBCU merger would be better than the Disney/Fox merger (and honestly, I agree! I'd take the WB/NBCU merger over Disney/Fox and ESPECIALLY Sony/Paramount the latter of which would likely get punched in the face by anti-trust laws since Sony owns Columbia/TriStaScreen Gems).
Anyhow, one question I had was "How would a Universal/Warner Bros. merger affect Cartoon Network and its sister services (Boomerang, Adult Swim, Cartoonito, Toonami, Discovery Family, and now, Universal Kids)?"
submitted by Mooshroomdude250 to AlternateMediaHistory [link] [comments]
Anyhow, one question I had was "How would a Universal/Warner Bros. merger affect Cartoon Network and its sister services (Boomerang, Adult Swim, Cartoonito, Toonami, Discovery Family, and now, Universal Kids)?"
- Cartoon Network - For our main network, Cartoon Network should return to an all-ages animation network, focusing on primarily modern shows with (most) older shows being on MeTV Toons. Any older show not on MeTV Toons can air on Cartoon Network as a nighttime block replacing Adult Swim. I was also thinking that CN could strike a distribution deal with WildBrain to air
- Adult Swim - Due to NBCUniversal already having NBC Sports, Adult Swim can easily replace TruTV. Impractical Jokers could move to TBS or E! while Adult Swim could take over TruTV's channel slot to become an all-day service. Toonami can air either only on Saturdays (taking up the entire day) or daily as a nighttime block akin to Qubo Night Owl.
- Cartoonito - In this setting, Cartoonito would replace Boomerang due to the channel losing relevance with MeTV Toons and Cartoon Network's Latenight lineup. The Cartoonito shows on MAX and the TV-Y shows on Universal Kids could also move to Cartoonito as well.
- Discovery Family - For Discovery Family, I'd say sever ties with Hasbro and rebrand it back to Hub and make it teen-oriented as a transitional network from the 6-11 KidsCo and the 21+ Adult Swim. Hub would target a 12 to 20 audience and would focus it's programming lineup on primarily TV-PG and light TV-14 content such as Unicorns, My Adventures, The Loony Tunes Show, Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Regular Show, Bob's Burgers, Home Movies, ACME Night, Sitting Ducks, She-Ra, The Amazing World of Gumball, Total Drama, Mobile Suit Gundam, Sailor Moon, Dragon Ball, Digimon, The Flintstones, Space Ghost, The Simpsons (provided they get the rights from Disney), The Powerpuff Girls (1998 and Z), and possibly Tamagotchi if Warnerversal is willing to produce and English dub of it. of course, with Discovery's involvement, a few live-action shows such Cake Boss and Too Cute, and a few Xploration Station shows (no HMPG/Litton shows as they're everywhere) as well as Superman and Lois, saving the show from The CW and it's Arrowverse-infested fingerprints) could also serve as additions to the Teen-focused network.
- Universal Kids - Universal Kids could become Warnerversal's primary kids channel becoming KidsCo. KidsCo could target as I mention, the 6-11 audience (compared to CNito's 2-5, Hub's 12-20 and AS's 21+). KidsCo would primarily base its lineup off of DreamWorks with Teen Titans Go! moving from Cartoon Network.
- Cartoon Network - All ages animation network.
- Adult Swim - Becomes 24/7 and focuses on Adult Animation.
- Cartoonito - Also becomes 24/7 (with MeTV Toons replacing Boomerang) and focuses on preschoolers.
- Hub (formerly Discovery Family) - Focusing on Teens and Young Adults.
- KidsCo (formerly Universal Kids) - Focusing on kids (6-11).
2024.05.13 21:09 jaydawg432 Nike Kyrie 2 Low Spongebob Sandy Cheek
 | Hey everyone! For all the SpongeBob fans out there or those into sneakers, I've got something special for you. I'm selling these vintage Kyrie Irving and Sandy Cheeks inspired shoes. They were released back in 2018 and although they're used, they're still in good condition. I've worn them about five times, but they've mostly been sitting around. Since their value has gone up, I've decided to sell them to someone who will appreciate them, because they're unique, rare, and look cool! The average price online is around $1000, but I'm selling them for a third of that, at $375. I'm happy to provide detailed videos from every angle if you're interested. Just shoot me a DM on my Instagram @ jay.hardeman! Size 13.5M submitted by jaydawg432 to spongebob [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/nz21z9a6q80d1.jpg?width=1242&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=7acef66a580ddb50d684a77a26324479ae789c28 |
2024.05.13 20:55 Dense_Acanthisitta39 Finishing Waves, has anyone else experienced a "graduation" type event?
I know that we all have our own deeply personal journies happening as we explore the Gateway, so this may not be common but I did want to check with the community as the experience I am about to share overlapped with much of the deep spiritual and esoteric experiences I have had while pursuing my skill development.
I have been practicing the Gateway now consistently every day since February when this gem was brought back to my attention through the flow of this reality. I have been steady, going at it methodically on obtaining and mastering the first pre-preparation tools until I am given a sign, or experience a significant event that affirms the state. This program has been life-changing, to say the least. I view my reality through a set of fresh eyes, habits that drained my energy or put me into a negative emotional state have been filtering out of my life. It has been the single most impactful activity I have ever done for myself.
A few days ago, I was in Free Flow 10, and I experienced what seem to be a test. I had a group of entities watching as I moved through the preparatory process and after successfully, albeit with some challenge, I found myself struggling to move through to roll and float. While doing everything I could, I saw some familiar faces/entities, and then I heard, what I interpreted as Bob's voice, saying something along the lines of "he is ready to proceed" or something of that nature. Objectively, I recorded this as such in my journal but also noted that it may be a Patriarch from my ancestors with a similar voice.
So my question for the community is, has anyone else experienced such an event, where those on the other side are waiting for them, watching and encouraging their progress like they are progressing through a course/graduating a grade? I swear I saw Bob, but it seemed uncanny to me at the time and I am sure further exploration will bring certainty to who was there.
Thanks for your time and Happy Journeys to you all!
submitted by Dense_Acanthisitta39 to gatewaytapes [link] [comments]
I have been practicing the Gateway now consistently every day since February when this gem was brought back to my attention through the flow of this reality. I have been steady, going at it methodically on obtaining and mastering the first pre-preparation tools until I am given a sign, or experience a significant event that affirms the state. This program has been life-changing, to say the least. I view my reality through a set of fresh eyes, habits that drained my energy or put me into a negative emotional state have been filtering out of my life. It has been the single most impactful activity I have ever done for myself.
A few days ago, I was in Free Flow 10, and I experienced what seem to be a test. I had a group of entities watching as I moved through the preparatory process and after successfully, albeit with some challenge, I found myself struggling to move through to roll and float. While doing everything I could, I saw some familiar faces/entities, and then I heard, what I interpreted as Bob's voice, saying something along the lines of "he is ready to proceed" or something of that nature. Objectively, I recorded this as such in my journal but also noted that it may be a Patriarch from my ancestors with a similar voice.
So my question for the community is, has anyone else experienced such an event, where those on the other side are waiting for them, watching and encouraging their progress like they are progressing through a course/graduating a grade? I swear I saw Bob, but it seemed uncanny to me at the time and I am sure further exploration will bring certainty to who was there.
Thanks for your time and Happy Journeys to you all!
2024.05.13 20:50 DeepfriedGrass Do we know the Whisper in the Walls quest voice actors?
SPOILER WARNING! DONT READ FURTHER IF YOU HAVEN'T DONE THIS QUEST.
(I don't know how to censor text sorry)
This is going to sound really specific, and also very vague as I didn't finish the quest yet, so I apologize in advance.
I just started the quest today and finished the first part that is based in 1999. In that section there is a random throwaway voice over the comms in the train station if I recall correctly. This voice actor sounded a lot like mr. Lawrence, the va of plankton from SpongeBob. I don't know if this is just me, or if other people thought the same, but I was wondering the va of this voice. I realise there is a high chance I am wrong, but I can't find anywhere online with this information, and it isn't helpful that I don't remember the name of the character or who says it in game. Also not sure if it comes back as I haven't done the rest of the quest.
submitted by DeepfriedGrass to Warframe [link] [comments]
(I don't know how to censor text sorry)
This is going to sound really specific, and also very vague as I didn't finish the quest yet, so I apologize in advance.
I just started the quest today and finished the first part that is based in 1999. In that section there is a random throwaway voice over the comms in the train station if I recall correctly. This voice actor sounded a lot like mr. Lawrence, the va of plankton from SpongeBob. I don't know if this is just me, or if other people thought the same, but I was wondering the va of this voice. I realise there is a high chance I am wrong, but I can't find anywhere online with this information, and it isn't helpful that I don't remember the name of the character or who says it in game. Also not sure if it comes back as I haven't done the rest of the quest.
2024.05.13 20:47 tom4life2002 Does Kevin Huerter have a negative contract?
Based on Huerter's rankings, he has a neutral to slightly negative contract. He is near the middle in all categories compared to his salary neighbors. 2 out of the 6 key statistical categories - PPG and SPG - Huerter ranked in the bottom half of his salary neighbors. The other 4 categories he is right in the middle.
Huerter's contract isn't too bad compared to similarly priced shooting guards but "not too bad" is not an attractive trade piece. Another team could say he just had a down year last year and might be willing to roll the dice that he bounces back to the form of 2 years ago. He is only 25 and still has off-the-ball gravity which can also help another team's spacing. If he is traded, Huerter will most likely be traded for his age, shooting, off-the-ball gravity and matching salary.
https://preview.redd.it/328yrjpkm80d1.png?width=418&format=png&auto=webp&s=8df1f6479edebba700b26873ab60418ca55922e1
https://preview.redd.it/817zxa7mm80d1.png?width=416&format=png&auto=webp&s=71a69392c8a0f3237ae13a1990f3e4090af3810e
https://preview.redd.it/iw67ue9pm80d1.png?width=417&format=png&auto=webp&s=09b67871d6602f76378fd51aa1cd0e5089dc852b
https://preview.redd.it/kd6ik2uqm80d1.png?width=417&format=png&auto=webp&s=817f841b9cd269f4d5445064852e16c0bd2d55b5
https://preview.redd.it/guirvlssm80d1.png?width=419&format=png&auto=webp&s=4c15ae8f8ff0189997a4e52642e1243fefc6df5e
https://preview.redd.it/82bni41vm80d1.png?width=418&format=png&auto=webp&s=682c3815aa1cc3343de2ca3619b004aa138e0ed5
submitted by tom4life2002 to kings [link] [comments]
My Method
I take the 5 shooting guard salaries above and below Kevin Huerter and compare Huerter's key statistical categories in relation to his peers and their contracts. This should give us a better idea whether Huerter has a negative, neutral, or positive contract.My Investigation
Kevin Huerter's Salary Neighbors- Norman Powell - Los Angeles Clippers - $19,240,379
- Evan Fournier - Detroit Pistons - $19,000,000
- Keldon Johnson - San Antonia Spurs - $19,000,000
- Josh Hart - New York Knicks - $18,144,000
- Bogdan Bogdanovic - Atlanta Hawks - $17,260,000
- *Kevin Huerter - Sacramento Kings - $16,830,357
- Caris Levert - Cleveland Cavaliers - $16,615,384
- Luguentz Dort - Oklahoma City Thunder - $16,500,000
- Tim Hardaway Jr. - Dallas Mavericks - $16,193,183
- Grayson Allen - Phoenix Suns - $15,625,000
- Kentavious Caldwell-Pope - Denver Nuggets - $15,440,185
| PPG | RPG | APG | BPG | SPG | 3P% | EPM | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Huerter's Stat | 10.2 | 3.5 | 2.6 | 0.4 | 0.7 | 36.1% | -0.7 |
| Rank (out of 11) | 8 | 6 | 6 | 6 | 8 | 6 | 7 |
| Difference from #1 | 6.7 | 4.8 | 2.5 | 0.2 | 0.6 | 10.0% | 1.7 |
| Difference from #2 | 5.5 | 2 | 1.5 | 0.2 | 0.5 | 7.4% | 0.2 |
My Analysis
Based on the rankings, Kevin Huerter has a neutral to slightly negative contract. He is near the middle in all categories compared to his salary neighbors. 2 out of the 6 key statistical categories - PPG and SPG - Huerter ranked in the bottom half of his salary neighbors. The other 4 categories he is right in the middle.Huerter's contract isn't too bad compared to similarly priced shooting guards but "not too bad" is not an attractive trade piece. Another team could say he just had a down year last year and might be willing to roll the dice that he bounces back to the form of 2 years ago. He is only 25 and still has off-the-ball gravity which can also help another team's spacing. If he is traded, Huerter will most likely be traded for his age, shooting, off-the-ball gravity and matching salary.
All Rankings
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2024.05.13 20:34 backpackwalkback Logistics of point-to-point solo trip
This is part of the trip planning that I always stumble over. Two examples:
submitted by backpackwalkback to WildernessBackpacking [link] [comments]
- I have a trip with a 36mi point-to-point route in the backwoods where I'm solo. I can park my vehicle at one end, now how do I get back, given there's no city or even cell coverage at either end, and a small town somewhere in the middle?
- I take a plane, say to Kalispell, and want to do the Bob. How do I reliably get to and from the Bob without wasting a ton of money on a 1-2wk car rental (that will sit at a trailhead 95% of the time)? Pack a bicycle for a check-in? Uber even though I have no reliable connection at the trailhead? Rely on the kindness of strangers and expect to wait half a day for a ride to appear?
2024.05.13 20:15 Carl_Sefni Cell 11 [final]
Hey folks, hello again. I took a bit longer this time to update (Part 1 and Part 2 here) you but at least I bring good news: this weekend, I got the definitive answer from the prison's legal department, and now I know how much I can tell (and I believe it's enough). For your information, after this incident and my eventual release from prison, I haven't contacted anyone I met behind bars, except of course for my wife, Linda. The point is, even after all these years, this story has troubled me a lot, and since my first post, I've become even more paranoid. Finally, this morning, I went out to get the mail but as soon as I opened the door, I came face to face with a small untouched white envelope, except for two identical characters stamped on its surface: 11. Linda is sleeping, and I don't want to worry her, I'm at the kitchen counter thinking about what to do with this envelope while reliving the final events of all this mess, of what was really inside cell 11.
It was morning, and there I was in my cell, in a scene poetically similar to this. I held a playing card, an 11 of clubs. I later searched for such a card online, but found nothing. It was strange, very well made. Before I could reflect more deeply on this, one of the guards passed by our corridor, opening the cell doors for our breakfast.
So, slowly, as if in a trance, I got up from bed and put the playing card in my pocket. Somehow, the card seemed to heat up in my pocket, I could feel the heat increasing and increasing, almost burning my skin. It was a strange stupor, almost drunken, I could even swear I smelled ether lingering in the air as I staggered to the cafeteria.
I slumped into the seat as I placed the tray on the table. Old Munford looked at me in a friendly manner:
"Overdid it yesterday, lad? Your hangover face is priceless."
I forced a weak smile in response to Munford's comment, trying to seem normal despite the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind. The heat still burned in my pocket, an uncomfortable sensation that seemed to be intensifying with each passing moment.
"No, nothing much," I muttered, looking away to my food tray. "Just didn't sleep very well."
Munford seemed satisfied with my response and turned his attention back to his own meal. As I stirred the food without really eating, struggling to maintain my composure, I began to think about what to do.
My thoughts were interrupted when Francis joined us at the table, his usual smile lighting up his face. He looked at me with a questioning expression.
"Hey man, everything okay? You look awful."
"I think it was the heat, or maybe something I ate last night."
Francis frowned. Unlike the elder, he clearly wasn't convinced by my superficial explanation.
"Some of the guys told me they saw Bob talking to you last night. Did he do something?"
The question caught me off guard. All this news about the playing card had prevented me from thinking about the strange interaction with Bob since the previous night, but now the memories began to resurface, mixed with the heat sensation coming from my pocket.
"Oh, it was nothing," I said quickly, trying to sound casual. "Bob was just being a bit... Bob."
I felt Francis's gaze linger on my face for a moment.
"If he does anything, you know you can talk to us, right? I know he's one of ours, but that doesn't mean I'll go easy on him."
I analyzed the options for a moment, reflecting on everything. Well, now it seemed to make sense, a prank by Bob, or an attempt to intimidate me...
"There's... something, Francis," I said in a low tone, feeling tense about the confession I was about to make. "Last night, after the card tournament, I... I ran into Bob in the hallway. He was questioning me about the tournament, accusing me of cheating."
Francis's face hardened at my words, a displeased expression passing over his features.
"Cheating? And you?"
"I swear I played fair," I replied quickly, the pressure building inside me. "But he was convinced I had some advantage, and... well, things got a bit tense... He walked away, and this morning I found this in my cell."
Deciding to omit the encounter with Tulley, I got straight to the point, pulling the card out of my pocket and placing it on the table. I could feel it almost incandescent now.
Munford looked at the card for a moment, his gaze narrowing as he studied it. The heat emanating from it was almost palpable, a strange aura that seemed to envelop the table.
"Is that... an 11 of clubs?" he murmured, his voice tinged with surprise and suspicion.
I nodded, my own confusion mingling with growing anxiety.
"Yes... I don't know, maybe Bob did this to scare me, to show that he has access to my cell, or to try to provoke me, knowing my fear of cell 11..."
My words were cut off when the guard's voice echoed through the cafeteria, interrupting our conversation as he announced that the meal period was over.
Francis looked at me with a serious expression.
"We'll talk about this later," he pointed to the card. "Mind if I take it with me?"
I nodded.
"No problem, feel free."
We began our march back to the cells, and I couldn't help but exchange glances with old Munford. He seemed to hesitate on the matter, as if he wanted to say something but was afraid. I made a mental note to speak with him as soon as possible. Our yard time would be in the next 4 hours, and I spent half of that time trying to ponder what had happened.
I don't know how long it took, but I fell asleep, sitting, with my back pressed against the wall of my cell. The dream, or rather, nightmare resulting from this was a disturbing experience.
I found myself standing, walking through the prison corridors in a way that seemed endless. The walls seemed to close in around me, creating a claustrophobic labyrinth that I couldn't escape. Every door I tried to open was locked, and the sound of footsteps echoed behind me, as if someone were following my every step.
Finally, I reached a door that was ajar, a dim light emanating from within. With a knot in my stomach, I pushed it slowly, revealing what seemed to be cell 11. But something was terribly wrong. A man was there, his back to me. Disheveled, uneven hair, a hunched posture, he was crouched down, rummaging through something I couldn't see, seemed to regurgitate. Suddenly, he stopped. He slowly got up and then looked at me.
Somehow, I knew that man was that prisoner, the one who had committed those atrocities and painted the eye on the damn cell. I noticed something dripping from his mouth, forming a red puddle in the center. On the wall, what seemed to be an incomplete sketch of the dreaded painting was there.
I watched, hypnotized by the horror before me, as the man slowly raised his trembling hand towards his face. Drops of that dark liquid dripped from his fingers, echoing in the oppressive silence of the cell. It was as if the very air was tainted with that impurity.
Before I could fully process what was happening, he began to move towards me, his irregular steps echoing like the distant clinking of chains. A visceral panic seized me, preventing me from retreating as he came closer and closer, his distorted figure gaining sharper contours as he advanced through the gloom. I could now smell the terrible scent he had, not just as something rotten, but a pure and concrete smell of death.
"Who... who are you?" My own voice sounded weak and trembling.
The man didn't answer. Instead, he kept advancing, his empty eyes seeming to pierce my soul. My heart was now pounding uncontrollably in my chest, a deafening cacophony that seemed to fill the entire space of the cell. I was about to retreat, to beg for mercy, when a voice whispered in my mind, a distorted echo reverberating like the sigh of a ghost:
"You... can you see? The watchful eye. He wants you. He liked looking at you."
The sound of my own breath echoed in the silence that followed, a dissonant note of fear and desperation. I wanted to scream, to run, to escape this living nightmare, but I was paralyzed by the terror that enveloped me like a coffin.
It was then that I woke up, gasping and covered in sweat, the echo of the whisper still resonating in my mind like a distant echo of a nightmare. For a moment, everything around me seemed distorted and unreal, a fleeting mirage, and then, I startled again. Munford was standing in front of my cell, staring at me with curiosity.
"Are you okay, son?" the old man asked in a soft voice, as if trying to calm a frightened animal.
I shook my head slowly, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of information.
"I... I think so," I murmured, my voice sounding strange and distant even to myself. "I had a horrible nightmare... It felt so real."
Munford nodded understandingly, his eyes fixed on mine.
"Yeah, the situation isn't good... but I came to talk about that letter, earlier in the cafeteria."
"Oh yeah, what about it?"
"Let's just say I've never seen a card like that, but the energy coming from it, oh yeah, I've seen that before."
"What do you mean?"
"You know, a few years ago, there was a murder in one of the cells. This was before Francis arrived, we didn't have much organization, lynchings were common, and in an attempt to reduce these incidents, we decided that the main suspect, a newly captured serial killer, would be forcibly transferred to cell 11. It was one of the most terrible incidents I've ever witnessed in here. And do you know how that man was known?"
I shook my head negatively. Munford leaned his hands on two bars, bringing his face closer to the center of them.
"The Card Cutter."
A wave of shivers ran down my spine.
"He used to leave playing cards as a kind of signature on the bodies of his victims. They say he would choose the card based on the person or the method of murder. So, when he was put in cell 11, things got even weirder."
"What happened to him?" I asked, a bittersweet and macabre curiosity in my mouth.
Munford sighed heavily, looking at a fixed point this time.
"A few weeks after being transferred, he was found dead in his cell. Hung with sheets. And next to his body..."
"What was it?" I could barely breathe as I listened.
"A playing card. An ace of spades, if I'm not mistaken. And that cell... well, since then, no one wants to stay there. They say it does something to people, kills them."
The shock of Munford's revelation reverberated in my chest, trembling as I thought about what could happen to Guard Tulley from now on, or worse, what could happen to us.
"So you think this card is... a warning?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper, staring into the old man's green eyes.
Munford nodded slowly, responding more to himself than to me.
"I can't say for sure, but it's a possibility to consider."
I swallowed hard.
"What should we do then?"
He fell silent for a moment, as if pondering his words carefully.
"I have no idea. I guess all we can do is keep quiet; we don't want to scare the other inmates. Francis doesn't believe in these things, so I won't waste my time trying to convince him, and I advise you to do the same. Maybe if we just keep pretending that nothing is happening, things will sort themselves out. But remember: whatever this force is, it wants to take you to the cell, wants you to face the eye. Resist those urges, okay?"
The clock struck 12:30. Time for yard time. I walked with Munford to the yard, the sun burning our heads as we stepped outside, futilely trying to erase the worry from our minds.
As I watched the other inmates spreading out across the yard, trying to appear normal, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find Bob, his voice low and threatening.
"What did you tell Francis?" he whispered, he was behind me, and I couldn't see him.
The flesh on my back trembled and twisted, the fluid of fear rising up to my brain.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Bob," I replied firmly, trying to sound confident.
He paused for a few seconds.
"You cheat first, and now, you make up lies about what I did or didn't do."
"I think there's a misunderstanding-"
"Shut up!" his voice rose sharply "I'm just here to say that I'm not a kid, I don't go around sending playing card letters or anything like that. I didn't threaten you with that thing, but now I am, and in a very direct way, and if I were you, I'd sleep with one eye open."
He was dead serious, and the threat was as clear as day. But what could I do? Confront Bob directly like Francis? That could mean he wasn't trustworthy... My thoughts were interrupted by the guard watching us.
"You two, no contact!" he shouted.
"No problem here, officer," Bob said, pulling me into a hug that felt more like an attempted chokehold.
I tried to pull away unsuccessfully, and the officer seemed to simply not care.
"Okay, but we'll be watching," he turned away, and Bob shoved me against the yard bars.
"Listen here, Bob," I began, my voice firm, confused about where this courage had even come from. "I don't know what you're up to, but I won't stand still while you try to intimidate me. If you have something to say, then say it like a man. Otherwise, leave me alone." I pushed him away with my hand.
"You're a fool, you know that?" he muttered.
"I'm not looking for trouble, but if you want it, you'll get it. Let's just leave it be, okay? If anything happens to me, I'll make sure some people know and-"
My assailant's hand closed around my neck, tightening. I squirmed, struggling to breathe as I desperately tried to free myself from his grip.
"Going to call daddy? Look, Francis may have that whole attitude, but he won't do anything to me, or any of the guys," he remarked.
I noticed the usual group of big guys who hung around with Francis, they were watching us from afar, seeming to distract the boss.
"He's getting out in two months...but honestly, I don't think I need to wait that long."
I couldn't breathe. Fighting against the grip on my neck, my eyes desperately searched for any help.
"Let him go!" The guard shouted from afar, starting to make his way down the stairs to reach us.
Bob didn't obey. I felt my body losing strength, so I did what I could: I focused my strength into a clenched fist and punched the bastard in the stomach, aiming right at his gut. And judging by his expression, it worked. I saw him lean over, his hands releasing my body and being placed on his belly.
I knew if I let it slide, he would come back and continue to harass me, so that had to be a definitive response to the jerk that I wasn't an easy prey. I lunged at him again, this time with a well-aimed kick to his knee, trying to destabilize him. He staggered backwards with a groan of pain, falling to his knees on the yard ground.
The other prisoners now realized what had happened, and soon their shouts in a circle were audible.
"Go, get him! Don't hold back! Finish this guy off!"
I lunged at Bob, raising my hand time after time to punch him. He didn't take it lightly, grabbing my right hand as I prepared to hit him; I could feel the pressure applied to the joints, my fingers starting to crack, and I could feel them tense, about to break. In desperation, I threw myself onto him with the only weapon I had left: my teeth.
I felt the flesh of his neck between the rows of teeth in my mouth. Without thinking and trying to loosen the grip on my hand, I pressed on the pearly bones harder and harder, feeling them slide against the skin, the metallic taste slowly emerging as the flesh was torn.
The scene around me seemed blurry, as if I were watching everything happen from afar, in slow motion. Bob's scream echoed through the yard, mixing with the encouragement shouts from the other inmates. I felt a mix of adrenaline and horror as my teeth sank into his neck flesh, a strange feeling of power and disgust.
While still hunched over that bloody man, I felt the blows on my back: it was the guards. Their batons striking time after time as the adrenaline rush passed, and I now began to feel the pain. Without resistance, I let myself be pulled away. Bob wasted no time and moved away, stumbling as he covered the wound.
"YOU SCUMBAG, WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?"
As I was being taken away, everything around me seemed blurred, as if I were in a state of stupor. The voices of the other inmates echoed in my ears, mixed with images of the fight that had just occurred. I still felt the blood running through my mouth, dripping lightly onto the ground and forming a trail of red dots marking my path. However, before we left the yard, our warden arrived at the scene, and the guards stopped, my arm uncomfortably twisted behind my body.
"What's going on here?" His voice was calm, but there was an unquestionable tone of authority in his words.
"He... he bit a detainee, sir," one of the guards explained, firmly holding my arm.
The warden looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.
"Why did you do that?"
My mind was spinning, trying to find a coherent explanation for what had happened. I knew it would be useless to tell about Bob's threat, about the playing card, about the fear he had instilled in me. So, I found the most plausible words I could gather:
"He... he provoked me, sir," I murmured, my voice trembling. "I... couldn't take it anymore. He was intimidating me, threatening me, and I... I lost control."
The warden looked at me for a long moment, as if assessing my words. Finally, he sighed, seeming resigned, approaching me with slow, steady steps.
"No, you did that because you're an animal."
He gave me two pats on the cheek, then wiped the blood running from my mouth.
"Take this one to solitary."
The prisoners began to shout, a real noisy commotion. I trembled at the thought of being locked up there. No one came back the same from solitary, but at that moment, I really think I'd prefer to go there than what was to come.
"But sir," one of the guards said, causing the inmates to fall silent in an attempt to hear something, "The solitary is occupied..."
The warden frowned, clearly irritated by the interruption.
"Then take him to cell 11," he ordered, his voice cold and authoritative.
That was the final blow, causing the uproar to become widespread, with even some inmates needing to be subdued with tear gas. I could see as I was pushed, Munford looking at me, a worried and distressed expression on his face; he said something I couldn't understand amidst the noise.
With my heart pounding erratically in my chest and my mind clouded with fear and uncertainty, I was led by the guards towards cell 11. Each step felt like it weighed tons, as if I were walking towards the abyss. I could feel the stares of the other inmates watching the scene, some with expressions of shock, others with a mixture of curiosity and indifference.
Finally, we arrived, and by this point, I was sweating uncontrollably; they opened the cell and threw me inside. My eyes instinctively closed as I fell to the ground. I didn't want to look at it. I got up, still blinding my vision, slowly groping around until I found the bed. I lay on it and turned to the wall beside it, my face as close as possible.
Lying on the hard bed, I could feel my heart beating so loudly that it seemed to echo off the concrete walls around me. Each beat was a pulsating reminder of my situation. I tried to push away the thoughts, but it was like trying to hold back a raging river with bare hands. All the while, I heard stories, heard things about that place, and now I was there, cornered by circumstances beyond my control.
Gradually, I noticed the thick layer of sweat forming around me. I could even feel my pores opening, pouring the water from my body in an attempt to cool myself in that stuffy, hot environment. I couldn't help but think about the heat of the card and... about Francis. He still had the card. Wasn't that dangerous? I fixated on musings about it.
In my feverish frenzy, time seemed to stretch infinitely in that dark cell, minutes dragging on like hours as I struggled to maintain my sanity. Every sound, every shadow was a source of growing anxiety until somehow, I fell into a deep sleep, dreamless this time.
I woke up in the middle of the night, with a faint noise coming from behind the heavy steel door. At first, I feared, wondering what it could be, but as soon as I regained my senses, I remembered where I was, and frankly, nothing outside could be worse. I cautiously approached the source of the sound, trying to listen better, when a "Hey, kid, it's me!" sounded whispered.
"Munford! Munford, I'm glad you're here, knew you wouldn't abandon me."
"Ha, I know, I know," he sounded nervous, perhaps hiding from the guards. "Look, I'd help you out, but I can't get it open from this side, try it there." A small plastic rectangle slid through the door gap. A credit card... I remembered I had done this many times before.
I grabbed the card and started working, carefully sliding it into the lock. Each movement was made with the precision I gained from years of street experience, trying not to make any noise that could attract the guards' attention. My mind was racing, and the tremor it transmitted to my fingers made motor coordination difficult.
Finally, after several minutes of trial and error, I heard a soft click, and the door opened slowly. I could smell the fresh air from the corridor and was already about to smile when, along with the bright light of a flashlight, I saw Bob, now with his neck and shoulder bandaged, along with three more of his cronies. Munford was being held by one, who held an improvised knife to his neck.
"Sorry, kid, they forced me," the old man lamented.
"Not so fast, princess." Bob pushed me inside, onto the floor, and then he entered with one of his cronies, closing the door behind him and illuminating me with the halo of his flashlight.
"What's up, Bob, can't you leave me alone?"
"You wanted to settle things, didn't you? Well..." he pointed to his wound. "You just signed your death warrant! But first, I'm going to make sure to pull out all your teeth and make you swallow them."
He lifted me by the collar of my shirt and landed a punch with his heavy hand. I felt dizzy, seeing stars, curling up into a fetal position. His laughter was now a terrifying melody to me.
"Look at this crybaby. Where did your bravery go?" He kicked my stomach, and I'm sure he found it an ironic poetic justice.
His cohort laughed until the beam of his flashlight shifted away from me.
"Hey Bob, what's that over there?" He said, simultaneously pointing with his finger and the flashlight.
Even though it was on the wall behind me, I knew what it was. I saw Bob straighten up to face it, becoming petrified. He and the other, standing there, mouths agape. I waited for seconds, counting mentally and holding my breath, expecting anything, but nothing. Until suddenly, I began to see small puddles forming under their lower eyelids, dark marks... of blood.
The red tears started to stream down their faces like large crimson waterfalls. Soon, they began to make a noise... a familiar noise, which made my mind freeze as I felt my toes curling inside my shoes and my mouth trembling uncontrollably. It was the same sound as Tulley's. They were now allowing these moans to escape their throats and resonate in the tight concrete walls.
I had to do something. I began slowly to pass by them, trying to edge around. When, however, I was almost reaching the door, I could see their shadows turning slowly in my direction. The tension in the air was palpable, as if it could be cut with a knife. I held myself back from trembling as I tried to maintain composure in front of those men, whose bloodshot eyes were now fixed on me, full of terror and despair.
"What... what's happening?" My voice came out in a trembling whisper, barely able to make myself heard.
Bob and his cohort remained silent. They began to walk towards me, and in desperation, I opened the cell door and slammed it loudly behind me, not caring about attracting the guards' attention. As I looked around, I actually noticed that this was a concern I didn't need to have.
The environment where I was wasn't what I expected, from the prison corridor. It was actually another cell. I stopped for a moment, confused, only to be surprised by a figure in the center of it. A man in a straitjacket looking at me with a petrified smile.
"I've been waiting for you," he said. His voice was blood-curdling, sounding like someone scratching a chalkboard with their nails or scraping a fork on a glass plate.
I tried to open the door but it was stuck. When I turned around again, he was leaning, his face inches from mine, eyes bloodshot. I almost fell backward. He laughed. It was like the last time, he had his mouth covered by a sticky red mass that dripped, probably serving as material for the painting, which now displayed an almost complete surreal eye. He turned and walked to the painting, and then he regurgitated it again. Since his hands were tied, he used his tongue as a brush, finishing the last line of the drawing.
"This," he whispered. "Is my masterpiece."
I was trembling. I had forgotten Munford's advice, and now I found myself petrified, just like the others, staring at the eye. I don't know how much time passed, but I felt like it was hours, days... years. All in the blink of an eye, or rather, in a stare without a single blink.
I tried in vain to regain my composure. Scenes of horror penetrated my mind. Cadavers, bodies marked by playing cards. Criminals, inmates being violently beaten with batons, pepper spray, and all sorts of luxuries the police can serve, I saw gang fights, blood, death, and abuse. I saw people being killed inside the prison. Each scene of violence that each of those who looked had already witnessed. My legs were no more than reeds in the wind now, and I just wanted to run away and scream, cry, and sleep to never wake up again. I tried to scream but the man came to me, placing his foot over my mouth.
"Shhh... you need to see."
He repeated this indefinitely. "need to see, need to see, need to see, need to see"
With superhuman effort, I managed to free myself from the weight of his foot on my mouth, but I could barely articulate coherent words. My voice came out trembling and weak when I finally managed to speak:
"What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?"
He simply continued smiling, as if my words were just another piece in his sadistic game. Then, with a quick and fluid movement, he approached me, so close that I could feel his fetid breath and the metallic smell of blood dripping from his mouth.
"Your mind is a fascinating playground," he murmured, his voice echoing in the claustrophobic space of the cell.
I felt tears running down my cheek, and I knew what color they were. I stood there, in shock, staring at the large painted eye, while my entire being was eaten alive in fear and dread. I don't know how much time passed, maybe the entire age of the universe, eternity, who knows. I woke up on the infirmary bed. Wires connected to my arm while a machine reproduced the "beeps" of my heart.
I looked to the side, seeing the green eyes of nurse Linda looking at me, concerned.
"Are you okay?"
"You need to see," I said, not even wanting to.
She frowned, evidently confused by my response. Linda seemed hesitant, as if she were trying to decide whether to ask more or simply ignore my strange statement. I could see the concern in her eyes, but also a certain curiosity, as if something inside her was intrigued by what I had to say.
"What do you mean by that?" She finally asked, her soft voice echoing in the silence of the infirmary.
I sat up slowly on the bed, feeling a wave of dizziness pass over me. My mind was still cloudy, as if I were struggling to emerge from a deep nightmare. I tried to articulate my words as coherently as possible.
"I... I saw things," I murmured, my voice still trembling. "Terrible things. In the cell... in there... something... something is wrong."
Linda watched me with a serious expression, her green eyes analyzing me carefully. She seemed to understand that something serious had happened, but couldn't fully comprehend what I was trying to communicate.
"Look... you and the others had a collective hallucination in that cell... The director has already arranged for an investigation, but we suspect carbon monoxide poisoning, we've already talked to him about the lack of windows in that place, but it seems he doesn't listen."
I stopped, confused by that information. Was I hallucinating? Well, maybe I would even think that if it weren't for what followed. A man in a dark suit entered. He had a serious and intimidating expression, and he asked Linda to leave.
"Listen here, young man, you're lucky to have come back. The others are catatonic... and probably won't come back to themselves. That's why your cooperation is extremely important, and we need to know: what did you see?"
I stumbled, recounting as much information as I could remember, from Tulley to Bob. The man listened to me without making any expression. After that, he took a radio that was hanging from his blazer and said some words that I didn't quite understand, something like "Ceter," "Queter"... and then he took a clipboard, handing it to me.
"This is your letter of freedom. Our proposal is as follows: We release you from prison and in exchange, you don't open your mouth about the specific events mentioned here," he pointed to the clauses.
That was five years ago, and given my freedom, you must imagine that not everything that happened is transcribed here, but the most important parts are. I ended up visiting Munford a few times after that, and I was horrified to discover that Francis, on the eve of his release, hanged himself with the bedsheet. The old man and I stared at each other after this discovery, in a mutual silent understanding. Shortly after, they closed not only the cell, but our entire pavilion, relocating the inmates. I never saw Munford or any of the others again after that. My nightmares persisted, but in recent months they have been much less frequent, and I think I might be slowly healing.
I wanted to say that this story ends well, with my rehabilitation. A troublesome prisoner full of stories becoming a family man. And it would be, if it weren't for the last 15 minutes of this morning. I believe you may remember that I received a letter this morning like that cursed number. I left it on the counter in the living room while I came here, to have breakfast and finish reporting this to you. When I finished the last paragraph, I went back to the room, but now, it seems like the whole nightmare is back.
I felt the tears, transparent this time, forming in my eyes. In the center of the room right now is Linda, holding the letter, looking at something in it that I can already imagine. She's standing there, wet and red stains on her face, I can hear her whispering "You need to see... need to see," and by God... I can see...
submitted by Carl_Sefni to nosleep [link] [comments]
It was morning, and there I was in my cell, in a scene poetically similar to this. I held a playing card, an 11 of clubs. I later searched for such a card online, but found nothing. It was strange, very well made. Before I could reflect more deeply on this, one of the guards passed by our corridor, opening the cell doors for our breakfast.
So, slowly, as if in a trance, I got up from bed and put the playing card in my pocket. Somehow, the card seemed to heat up in my pocket, I could feel the heat increasing and increasing, almost burning my skin. It was a strange stupor, almost drunken, I could even swear I smelled ether lingering in the air as I staggered to the cafeteria.
I slumped into the seat as I placed the tray on the table. Old Munford looked at me in a friendly manner:
"Overdid it yesterday, lad? Your hangover face is priceless."
I forced a weak smile in response to Munford's comment, trying to seem normal despite the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind. The heat still burned in my pocket, an uncomfortable sensation that seemed to be intensifying with each passing moment.
"No, nothing much," I muttered, looking away to my food tray. "Just didn't sleep very well."
Munford seemed satisfied with my response and turned his attention back to his own meal. As I stirred the food without really eating, struggling to maintain my composure, I began to think about what to do.
My thoughts were interrupted when Francis joined us at the table, his usual smile lighting up his face. He looked at me with a questioning expression.
"Hey man, everything okay? You look awful."
"I think it was the heat, or maybe something I ate last night."
Francis frowned. Unlike the elder, he clearly wasn't convinced by my superficial explanation.
"Some of the guys told me they saw Bob talking to you last night. Did he do something?"
The question caught me off guard. All this news about the playing card had prevented me from thinking about the strange interaction with Bob since the previous night, but now the memories began to resurface, mixed with the heat sensation coming from my pocket.
"Oh, it was nothing," I said quickly, trying to sound casual. "Bob was just being a bit... Bob."
I felt Francis's gaze linger on my face for a moment.
"If he does anything, you know you can talk to us, right? I know he's one of ours, but that doesn't mean I'll go easy on him."
I analyzed the options for a moment, reflecting on everything. Well, now it seemed to make sense, a prank by Bob, or an attempt to intimidate me...
"There's... something, Francis," I said in a low tone, feeling tense about the confession I was about to make. "Last night, after the card tournament, I... I ran into Bob in the hallway. He was questioning me about the tournament, accusing me of cheating."
Francis's face hardened at my words, a displeased expression passing over his features.
"Cheating? And you?"
"I swear I played fair," I replied quickly, the pressure building inside me. "But he was convinced I had some advantage, and... well, things got a bit tense... He walked away, and this morning I found this in my cell."
Deciding to omit the encounter with Tulley, I got straight to the point, pulling the card out of my pocket and placing it on the table. I could feel it almost incandescent now.
Munford looked at the card for a moment, his gaze narrowing as he studied it. The heat emanating from it was almost palpable, a strange aura that seemed to envelop the table.
"Is that... an 11 of clubs?" he murmured, his voice tinged with surprise and suspicion.
I nodded, my own confusion mingling with growing anxiety.
"Yes... I don't know, maybe Bob did this to scare me, to show that he has access to my cell, or to try to provoke me, knowing my fear of cell 11..."
My words were cut off when the guard's voice echoed through the cafeteria, interrupting our conversation as he announced that the meal period was over.
Francis looked at me with a serious expression.
"We'll talk about this later," he pointed to the card. "Mind if I take it with me?"
I nodded.
"No problem, feel free."
We began our march back to the cells, and I couldn't help but exchange glances with old Munford. He seemed to hesitate on the matter, as if he wanted to say something but was afraid. I made a mental note to speak with him as soon as possible. Our yard time would be in the next 4 hours, and I spent half of that time trying to ponder what had happened.
I don't know how long it took, but I fell asleep, sitting, with my back pressed against the wall of my cell. The dream, or rather, nightmare resulting from this was a disturbing experience.
I found myself standing, walking through the prison corridors in a way that seemed endless. The walls seemed to close in around me, creating a claustrophobic labyrinth that I couldn't escape. Every door I tried to open was locked, and the sound of footsteps echoed behind me, as if someone were following my every step.
Finally, I reached a door that was ajar, a dim light emanating from within. With a knot in my stomach, I pushed it slowly, revealing what seemed to be cell 11. But something was terribly wrong. A man was there, his back to me. Disheveled, uneven hair, a hunched posture, he was crouched down, rummaging through something I couldn't see, seemed to regurgitate. Suddenly, he stopped. He slowly got up and then looked at me.
Somehow, I knew that man was that prisoner, the one who had committed those atrocities and painted the eye on the damn cell. I noticed something dripping from his mouth, forming a red puddle in the center. On the wall, what seemed to be an incomplete sketch of the dreaded painting was there.
I watched, hypnotized by the horror before me, as the man slowly raised his trembling hand towards his face. Drops of that dark liquid dripped from his fingers, echoing in the oppressive silence of the cell. It was as if the very air was tainted with that impurity.
Before I could fully process what was happening, he began to move towards me, his irregular steps echoing like the distant clinking of chains. A visceral panic seized me, preventing me from retreating as he came closer and closer, his distorted figure gaining sharper contours as he advanced through the gloom. I could now smell the terrible scent he had, not just as something rotten, but a pure and concrete smell of death.
"Who... who are you?" My own voice sounded weak and trembling.
The man didn't answer. Instead, he kept advancing, his empty eyes seeming to pierce my soul. My heart was now pounding uncontrollably in my chest, a deafening cacophony that seemed to fill the entire space of the cell. I was about to retreat, to beg for mercy, when a voice whispered in my mind, a distorted echo reverberating like the sigh of a ghost:
"You... can you see? The watchful eye. He wants you. He liked looking at you."
The sound of my own breath echoed in the silence that followed, a dissonant note of fear and desperation. I wanted to scream, to run, to escape this living nightmare, but I was paralyzed by the terror that enveloped me like a coffin.
It was then that I woke up, gasping and covered in sweat, the echo of the whisper still resonating in my mind like a distant echo of a nightmare. For a moment, everything around me seemed distorted and unreal, a fleeting mirage, and then, I startled again. Munford was standing in front of my cell, staring at me with curiosity.
"Are you okay, son?" the old man asked in a soft voice, as if trying to calm a frightened animal.
I shook my head slowly, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of information.
"I... I think so," I murmured, my voice sounding strange and distant even to myself. "I had a horrible nightmare... It felt so real."
Munford nodded understandingly, his eyes fixed on mine.
"Yeah, the situation isn't good... but I came to talk about that letter, earlier in the cafeteria."
"Oh yeah, what about it?"
"Let's just say I've never seen a card like that, but the energy coming from it, oh yeah, I've seen that before."
"What do you mean?"
"You know, a few years ago, there was a murder in one of the cells. This was before Francis arrived, we didn't have much organization, lynchings were common, and in an attempt to reduce these incidents, we decided that the main suspect, a newly captured serial killer, would be forcibly transferred to cell 11. It was one of the most terrible incidents I've ever witnessed in here. And do you know how that man was known?"
I shook my head negatively. Munford leaned his hands on two bars, bringing his face closer to the center of them.
"The Card Cutter."
A wave of shivers ran down my spine.
"He used to leave playing cards as a kind of signature on the bodies of his victims. They say he would choose the card based on the person or the method of murder. So, when he was put in cell 11, things got even weirder."
"What happened to him?" I asked, a bittersweet and macabre curiosity in my mouth.
Munford sighed heavily, looking at a fixed point this time.
"A few weeks after being transferred, he was found dead in his cell. Hung with sheets. And next to his body..."
"What was it?" I could barely breathe as I listened.
"A playing card. An ace of spades, if I'm not mistaken. And that cell... well, since then, no one wants to stay there. They say it does something to people, kills them."
The shock of Munford's revelation reverberated in my chest, trembling as I thought about what could happen to Guard Tulley from now on, or worse, what could happen to us.
"So you think this card is... a warning?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper, staring into the old man's green eyes.
Munford nodded slowly, responding more to himself than to me.
"I can't say for sure, but it's a possibility to consider."
I swallowed hard.
"What should we do then?"
He fell silent for a moment, as if pondering his words carefully.
"I have no idea. I guess all we can do is keep quiet; we don't want to scare the other inmates. Francis doesn't believe in these things, so I won't waste my time trying to convince him, and I advise you to do the same. Maybe if we just keep pretending that nothing is happening, things will sort themselves out. But remember: whatever this force is, it wants to take you to the cell, wants you to face the eye. Resist those urges, okay?"
The clock struck 12:30. Time for yard time. I walked with Munford to the yard, the sun burning our heads as we stepped outside, futilely trying to erase the worry from our minds.
As I watched the other inmates spreading out across the yard, trying to appear normal, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find Bob, his voice low and threatening.
"What did you tell Francis?" he whispered, he was behind me, and I couldn't see him.
The flesh on my back trembled and twisted, the fluid of fear rising up to my brain.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Bob," I replied firmly, trying to sound confident.
He paused for a few seconds.
"You cheat first, and now, you make up lies about what I did or didn't do."
"I think there's a misunderstanding-"
"Shut up!" his voice rose sharply "I'm just here to say that I'm not a kid, I don't go around sending playing card letters or anything like that. I didn't threaten you with that thing, but now I am, and in a very direct way, and if I were you, I'd sleep with one eye open."
He was dead serious, and the threat was as clear as day. But what could I do? Confront Bob directly like Francis? That could mean he wasn't trustworthy... My thoughts were interrupted by the guard watching us.
"You two, no contact!" he shouted.
"No problem here, officer," Bob said, pulling me into a hug that felt more like an attempted chokehold.
I tried to pull away unsuccessfully, and the officer seemed to simply not care.
"Okay, but we'll be watching," he turned away, and Bob shoved me against the yard bars.
"Listen here, Bob," I began, my voice firm, confused about where this courage had even come from. "I don't know what you're up to, but I won't stand still while you try to intimidate me. If you have something to say, then say it like a man. Otherwise, leave me alone." I pushed him away with my hand.
"You're a fool, you know that?" he muttered.
"I'm not looking for trouble, but if you want it, you'll get it. Let's just leave it be, okay? If anything happens to me, I'll make sure some people know and-"
My assailant's hand closed around my neck, tightening. I squirmed, struggling to breathe as I desperately tried to free myself from his grip.
"Going to call daddy? Look, Francis may have that whole attitude, but he won't do anything to me, or any of the guys," he remarked.
I noticed the usual group of big guys who hung around with Francis, they were watching us from afar, seeming to distract the boss.
"He's getting out in two months...but honestly, I don't think I need to wait that long."
I couldn't breathe. Fighting against the grip on my neck, my eyes desperately searched for any help.
"Let him go!" The guard shouted from afar, starting to make his way down the stairs to reach us.
Bob didn't obey. I felt my body losing strength, so I did what I could: I focused my strength into a clenched fist and punched the bastard in the stomach, aiming right at his gut. And judging by his expression, it worked. I saw him lean over, his hands releasing my body and being placed on his belly.
I knew if I let it slide, he would come back and continue to harass me, so that had to be a definitive response to the jerk that I wasn't an easy prey. I lunged at him again, this time with a well-aimed kick to his knee, trying to destabilize him. He staggered backwards with a groan of pain, falling to his knees on the yard ground.
The other prisoners now realized what had happened, and soon their shouts in a circle were audible.
"Go, get him! Don't hold back! Finish this guy off!"
I lunged at Bob, raising my hand time after time to punch him. He didn't take it lightly, grabbing my right hand as I prepared to hit him; I could feel the pressure applied to the joints, my fingers starting to crack, and I could feel them tense, about to break. In desperation, I threw myself onto him with the only weapon I had left: my teeth.
I felt the flesh of his neck between the rows of teeth in my mouth. Without thinking and trying to loosen the grip on my hand, I pressed on the pearly bones harder and harder, feeling them slide against the skin, the metallic taste slowly emerging as the flesh was torn.
The scene around me seemed blurry, as if I were watching everything happen from afar, in slow motion. Bob's scream echoed through the yard, mixing with the encouragement shouts from the other inmates. I felt a mix of adrenaline and horror as my teeth sank into his neck flesh, a strange feeling of power and disgust.
While still hunched over that bloody man, I felt the blows on my back: it was the guards. Their batons striking time after time as the adrenaline rush passed, and I now began to feel the pain. Without resistance, I let myself be pulled away. Bob wasted no time and moved away, stumbling as he covered the wound.
"YOU SCUMBAG, WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?"
As I was being taken away, everything around me seemed blurred, as if I were in a state of stupor. The voices of the other inmates echoed in my ears, mixed with images of the fight that had just occurred. I still felt the blood running through my mouth, dripping lightly onto the ground and forming a trail of red dots marking my path. However, before we left the yard, our warden arrived at the scene, and the guards stopped, my arm uncomfortably twisted behind my body.
"What's going on here?" His voice was calm, but there was an unquestionable tone of authority in his words.
"He... he bit a detainee, sir," one of the guards explained, firmly holding my arm.
The warden looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.
"Why did you do that?"
My mind was spinning, trying to find a coherent explanation for what had happened. I knew it would be useless to tell about Bob's threat, about the playing card, about the fear he had instilled in me. So, I found the most plausible words I could gather:
"He... he provoked me, sir," I murmured, my voice trembling. "I... couldn't take it anymore. He was intimidating me, threatening me, and I... I lost control."
The warden looked at me for a long moment, as if assessing my words. Finally, he sighed, seeming resigned, approaching me with slow, steady steps.
"No, you did that because you're an animal."
He gave me two pats on the cheek, then wiped the blood running from my mouth.
"Take this one to solitary."
The prisoners began to shout, a real noisy commotion. I trembled at the thought of being locked up there. No one came back the same from solitary, but at that moment, I really think I'd prefer to go there than what was to come.
"But sir," one of the guards said, causing the inmates to fall silent in an attempt to hear something, "The solitary is occupied..."
The warden frowned, clearly irritated by the interruption.
"Then take him to cell 11," he ordered, his voice cold and authoritative.
That was the final blow, causing the uproar to become widespread, with even some inmates needing to be subdued with tear gas. I could see as I was pushed, Munford looking at me, a worried and distressed expression on his face; he said something I couldn't understand amidst the noise.
With my heart pounding erratically in my chest and my mind clouded with fear and uncertainty, I was led by the guards towards cell 11. Each step felt like it weighed tons, as if I were walking towards the abyss. I could feel the stares of the other inmates watching the scene, some with expressions of shock, others with a mixture of curiosity and indifference.
Finally, we arrived, and by this point, I was sweating uncontrollably; they opened the cell and threw me inside. My eyes instinctively closed as I fell to the ground. I didn't want to look at it. I got up, still blinding my vision, slowly groping around until I found the bed. I lay on it and turned to the wall beside it, my face as close as possible.
Lying on the hard bed, I could feel my heart beating so loudly that it seemed to echo off the concrete walls around me. Each beat was a pulsating reminder of my situation. I tried to push away the thoughts, but it was like trying to hold back a raging river with bare hands. All the while, I heard stories, heard things about that place, and now I was there, cornered by circumstances beyond my control.
Gradually, I noticed the thick layer of sweat forming around me. I could even feel my pores opening, pouring the water from my body in an attempt to cool myself in that stuffy, hot environment. I couldn't help but think about the heat of the card and... about Francis. He still had the card. Wasn't that dangerous? I fixated on musings about it.
In my feverish frenzy, time seemed to stretch infinitely in that dark cell, minutes dragging on like hours as I struggled to maintain my sanity. Every sound, every shadow was a source of growing anxiety until somehow, I fell into a deep sleep, dreamless this time.
I woke up in the middle of the night, with a faint noise coming from behind the heavy steel door. At first, I feared, wondering what it could be, but as soon as I regained my senses, I remembered where I was, and frankly, nothing outside could be worse. I cautiously approached the source of the sound, trying to listen better, when a "Hey, kid, it's me!" sounded whispered.
"Munford! Munford, I'm glad you're here, knew you wouldn't abandon me."
"Ha, I know, I know," he sounded nervous, perhaps hiding from the guards. "Look, I'd help you out, but I can't get it open from this side, try it there." A small plastic rectangle slid through the door gap. A credit card... I remembered I had done this many times before.
I grabbed the card and started working, carefully sliding it into the lock. Each movement was made with the precision I gained from years of street experience, trying not to make any noise that could attract the guards' attention. My mind was racing, and the tremor it transmitted to my fingers made motor coordination difficult.
Finally, after several minutes of trial and error, I heard a soft click, and the door opened slowly. I could smell the fresh air from the corridor and was already about to smile when, along with the bright light of a flashlight, I saw Bob, now with his neck and shoulder bandaged, along with three more of his cronies. Munford was being held by one, who held an improvised knife to his neck.
"Sorry, kid, they forced me," the old man lamented.
"Not so fast, princess." Bob pushed me inside, onto the floor, and then he entered with one of his cronies, closing the door behind him and illuminating me with the halo of his flashlight.
"What's up, Bob, can't you leave me alone?"
"You wanted to settle things, didn't you? Well..." he pointed to his wound. "You just signed your death warrant! But first, I'm going to make sure to pull out all your teeth and make you swallow them."
He lifted me by the collar of my shirt and landed a punch with his heavy hand. I felt dizzy, seeing stars, curling up into a fetal position. His laughter was now a terrifying melody to me.
"Look at this crybaby. Where did your bravery go?" He kicked my stomach, and I'm sure he found it an ironic poetic justice.
His cohort laughed until the beam of his flashlight shifted away from me.
"Hey Bob, what's that over there?" He said, simultaneously pointing with his finger and the flashlight.
Even though it was on the wall behind me, I knew what it was. I saw Bob straighten up to face it, becoming petrified. He and the other, standing there, mouths agape. I waited for seconds, counting mentally and holding my breath, expecting anything, but nothing. Until suddenly, I began to see small puddles forming under their lower eyelids, dark marks... of blood.
The red tears started to stream down their faces like large crimson waterfalls. Soon, they began to make a noise... a familiar noise, which made my mind freeze as I felt my toes curling inside my shoes and my mouth trembling uncontrollably. It was the same sound as Tulley's. They were now allowing these moans to escape their throats and resonate in the tight concrete walls.
I had to do something. I began slowly to pass by them, trying to edge around. When, however, I was almost reaching the door, I could see their shadows turning slowly in my direction. The tension in the air was palpable, as if it could be cut with a knife. I held myself back from trembling as I tried to maintain composure in front of those men, whose bloodshot eyes were now fixed on me, full of terror and despair.
"What... what's happening?" My voice came out in a trembling whisper, barely able to make myself heard.
Bob and his cohort remained silent. They began to walk towards me, and in desperation, I opened the cell door and slammed it loudly behind me, not caring about attracting the guards' attention. As I looked around, I actually noticed that this was a concern I didn't need to have.
The environment where I was wasn't what I expected, from the prison corridor. It was actually another cell. I stopped for a moment, confused, only to be surprised by a figure in the center of it. A man in a straitjacket looking at me with a petrified smile.
"I've been waiting for you," he said. His voice was blood-curdling, sounding like someone scratching a chalkboard with their nails or scraping a fork on a glass plate.
I tried to open the door but it was stuck. When I turned around again, he was leaning, his face inches from mine, eyes bloodshot. I almost fell backward. He laughed. It was like the last time, he had his mouth covered by a sticky red mass that dripped, probably serving as material for the painting, which now displayed an almost complete surreal eye. He turned and walked to the painting, and then he regurgitated it again. Since his hands were tied, he used his tongue as a brush, finishing the last line of the drawing.
"This," he whispered. "Is my masterpiece."
I was trembling. I had forgotten Munford's advice, and now I found myself petrified, just like the others, staring at the eye. I don't know how much time passed, but I felt like it was hours, days... years. All in the blink of an eye, or rather, in a stare without a single blink.
I tried in vain to regain my composure. Scenes of horror penetrated my mind. Cadavers, bodies marked by playing cards. Criminals, inmates being violently beaten with batons, pepper spray, and all sorts of luxuries the police can serve, I saw gang fights, blood, death, and abuse. I saw people being killed inside the prison. Each scene of violence that each of those who looked had already witnessed. My legs were no more than reeds in the wind now, and I just wanted to run away and scream, cry, and sleep to never wake up again. I tried to scream but the man came to me, placing his foot over my mouth.
"Shhh... you need to see."
He repeated this indefinitely. "need to see, need to see, need to see, need to see"
With superhuman effort, I managed to free myself from the weight of his foot on my mouth, but I could barely articulate coherent words. My voice came out trembling and weak when I finally managed to speak:
"What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?"
He simply continued smiling, as if my words were just another piece in his sadistic game. Then, with a quick and fluid movement, he approached me, so close that I could feel his fetid breath and the metallic smell of blood dripping from his mouth.
"Your mind is a fascinating playground," he murmured, his voice echoing in the claustrophobic space of the cell.
I felt tears running down my cheek, and I knew what color they were. I stood there, in shock, staring at the large painted eye, while my entire being was eaten alive in fear and dread. I don't know how much time passed, maybe the entire age of the universe, eternity, who knows. I woke up on the infirmary bed. Wires connected to my arm while a machine reproduced the "beeps" of my heart.
I looked to the side, seeing the green eyes of nurse Linda looking at me, concerned.
"Are you okay?"
"You need to see," I said, not even wanting to.
She frowned, evidently confused by my response. Linda seemed hesitant, as if she were trying to decide whether to ask more or simply ignore my strange statement. I could see the concern in her eyes, but also a certain curiosity, as if something inside her was intrigued by what I had to say.
"What do you mean by that?" She finally asked, her soft voice echoing in the silence of the infirmary.
I sat up slowly on the bed, feeling a wave of dizziness pass over me. My mind was still cloudy, as if I were struggling to emerge from a deep nightmare. I tried to articulate my words as coherently as possible.
"I... I saw things," I murmured, my voice still trembling. "Terrible things. In the cell... in there... something... something is wrong."
Linda watched me with a serious expression, her green eyes analyzing me carefully. She seemed to understand that something serious had happened, but couldn't fully comprehend what I was trying to communicate.
"Look... you and the others had a collective hallucination in that cell... The director has already arranged for an investigation, but we suspect carbon monoxide poisoning, we've already talked to him about the lack of windows in that place, but it seems he doesn't listen."
I stopped, confused by that information. Was I hallucinating? Well, maybe I would even think that if it weren't for what followed. A man in a dark suit entered. He had a serious and intimidating expression, and he asked Linda to leave.
"Listen here, young man, you're lucky to have come back. The others are catatonic... and probably won't come back to themselves. That's why your cooperation is extremely important, and we need to know: what did you see?"
I stumbled, recounting as much information as I could remember, from Tulley to Bob. The man listened to me without making any expression. After that, he took a radio that was hanging from his blazer and said some words that I didn't quite understand, something like "Ceter," "Queter"... and then he took a clipboard, handing it to me.
"This is your letter of freedom. Our proposal is as follows: We release you from prison and in exchange, you don't open your mouth about the specific events mentioned here," he pointed to the clauses.
That was five years ago, and given my freedom, you must imagine that not everything that happened is transcribed here, but the most important parts are. I ended up visiting Munford a few times after that, and I was horrified to discover that Francis, on the eve of his release, hanged himself with the bedsheet. The old man and I stared at each other after this discovery, in a mutual silent understanding. Shortly after, they closed not only the cell, but our entire pavilion, relocating the inmates. I never saw Munford or any of the others again after that. My nightmares persisted, but in recent months they have been much less frequent, and I think I might be slowly healing.
I wanted to say that this story ends well, with my rehabilitation. A troublesome prisoner full of stories becoming a family man. And it would be, if it weren't for the last 15 minutes of this morning. I believe you may remember that I received a letter this morning like that cursed number. I left it on the counter in the living room while I came here, to have breakfast and finish reporting this to you. When I finished the last paragraph, I went back to the room, but now, it seems like the whole nightmare is back.
I felt the tears, transparent this time, forming in my eyes. In the center of the room right now is Linda, holding the letter, looking at something in it that I can already imagine. She's standing there, wet and red stains on her face, I can hear her whispering "You need to see... need to see," and by God... I can see...
2024.05.13 20:02 Current_Bet_624 Recents
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2024.05.13 19:58 Futur3P4st Bennett’s goal last night
Bias aside, do you think Bennett’s goal last night should’ve counted? I personally think they should’ve taken the goal back. Either way, we were flat out in control of the game. Boston only generated SIX shots on Bob after Lundell got us on the board, with 5min left in the 2nd Period.. I actually do wish they took the goal back because I’m confident we would have won regardless.
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