Jennifer taylorennifer t

I’ve decided to rewatch every Amazing Race and rank them all.
*************************************
SEASON 24 (ALL STARS) gets a 6/10
*************************************
This is probably one of the most frustrating seasons! It looked like very little effort was put into the returnee cast, the route, the challenges, leg designs and even editing/storylines were inconsistent. However…it usually wasn’t boring! There was some drama (some of it a bit annoying though), there was the charm of seeing returnees (I do love the appeal of All Star seasons), and a season with Rachel Reilly is never boring! So I find it similar to the Family Edition in that it has lots of flaws but is generally entertaining enough to enjoy. So it gets a 6 because it was still enjoyable (but is obviously ranked near the bottom).
*************************************
Theme

• This is the 3rd returnee season (after TAR11 All Stars, TAR18 Unfinished Business and now TAR24 All Stars). An All Star season is meant to be the “best of the best” and this season consisted of returnees from TAR18-TAR23 only as well as some 3-time players. Also no winners and some early boots, so it actually feels more like Unfinished Business 2 rather than All Stars 2. I love returnee seasons and seeing entertaining past players interact and you feel invested in them in episode 1 (most seasons take a few episodes to become invested in the cast). However it was the weakest Amazing Race returnee cast by far.
  
• Now to judge the returnee cast. Out of the 2-time players, you had 4 fantastic choices (Natalie/Nadiya, Leo/Jamal, BoppeMark, Brendan/Rachel) and 4 terrible choices (Dave/Connor, John/Jessica, Joey/Meghan, Caroline/Jennifer, all from TAR22 haha). Dave/Connor more suited an Unfinished Business season. I wouldn’t even mind if they just slotted Dave/Connor into a regular season with 10 other newbie teams like Bruce in Survivor 45 (rather than wasting a precious All Stars slot). They’re nothing special - they just raced 4 legs and got medevaced so they wouldn’t be too out of place on a regular season. I even said Eric/Danielle from TAR11 could have raced on a regular season too. Not using an Express Pass (John/Jessica) is NOT a reason to be on All Stars (also not that interesting), Joey/Meghan were only back because of their YouTube fame (also not that interesting), and Caroline/Jennifer are there for the hot girl team quota (and AGAIN not that interesting). The main criteria should be ENTERTAINMENT and these 4 were NOT.
  
• Out of the 3-time players, Jet/Cord were a good choice being such a fan favourite (despite being very overrated), Margie/Luke are always a fascinating team to watch so they were fine, but Flight Time/Big Easy weren’t needed for a 3rd time. They were fine in TAR15 but were just okay in TAR18 so I don’t see anything new they could bring really. So many better 3-time choices. And lastly you have the Mark/Mallory hybrid which I’m actually not too negative on (Mallory is also a 3-timer). Ideally they should have put on an alternate team when Bopper couldn’t race but I think Mark/Mallory had potential for entertainment and a fascinating storyline. Very different from Eric/Danielle’s situation because Mark AND Mallory were both popular characters.
  
• I personally don’t mind 3-timers if it will improve the cast but I know many fans would prefer to stick with just 2-time players for fairness. But I don’t believe any combination of 2-timers would have made this a good cast, with fans suggesting Andy/Tommy, Jaymes/James, Pam/Winnie, Max/Katie, Abbie/Ryan etc. Let’s be honest - these teams would not have dramatically improved the quality of the cast! They should have either waited a few seasons or just go all out and try to replicate Survivor Heroes vs Villains (regarded as one of the best All Star seasons of Reality TV) - it had winners, lots of 3-timers, classic players and no weak links in the cast. While I believe TAR24 was too soon for an All Stars, Survivor Heroes vs Villains was also “too soon” (only 4 seasons after Fans vs Favorites) but good casting made it a legendary season. 3-timers and winners are not necessarily a bad thing!
  
• So this is who I would have picked (I believe just go all out and get the biggest stars and characters possible) = I would have only picked 4 teams from TAR19-TAR23 (Brendan/Rachel, Natalie/Nadiya, BoppeMark, Leo/Jamal). While Bopper would still have gotten sick, I would have picked another team to replace them rather than Mark/Mallory (maybe Bill/Cathi - arguably the best older team). I would then pick four 3-timers (Jet/Cord, Margie/Luke, Charla/Mirna, Rob/Amber). I would then fill the remaining slots with winners because it would be nice to have the equivalent of a Sandra or Tony from Survivor (2-time winner) - either Rob/Brennan, Chip/Kim, Nat/Kat, Rachel/Dave (if still together), Ernie/Cindy or Nick/Starr. Some other good choices (if the teams above decline) would be Colin/Christie, Eric/Jeremy, Oswald/Danny, Joe/Bill, Dustin/Kandice, Kynt/Vyxsin, Zev/Justin or any winners. Also Brook/Claire and Tim/Marie but they declined and could have considered Amani/Marcus who also declined.
  

*************************************
General Thoughts

• This season didn’t have many boring sections but felt like an unsatisfying mess. The choice of returnees was frustrating and then you had 2 of the “underwhelming choices” be the top 2, Natalie/Nadiya going 1st was a huge loss, Mark/Mallory damaging the reputations was disappointing (but good TV), the 3-timers didn’t do much this time and then mixed with the poor route and challenges. The Accidental Alliance vs The Brenchels was a big storyline at the end and while that drama was “better than nothing”, it also came across as annoying (similar to Brandy vs Caite in TAR16). I like returnee seasons, and I believe this would rank lower if they were all new teams. For example I enjoyed watching John/Jessica, Margie/Luke and Flight Time/Big Easy because I knew their history, but would be boring if I didn’t know their backstories.
  
• The editing and storylines also seemed off. You had multiple teams together at the Spanish steps challenge and then a foot race to the pit stop yet it didn’t feel as tense as it should have been. They also had Brendan/Rachel almost missing a flight in leg 5 as well as a train in leg 6 and they both lacked suspense (editing is the issue). Also while I liked Brendan/Rachel this season, their storyline was all over the place. Rachel started as wanting to redeem herself with a few positive moments (not stressing, helping Luke) but then later became hated by every team and had some meltdowns. The redemption storyline was just dropped. The same thing with Dave/Connor who were meant to be super sweet but the editing made them annoying and self righteous. Even the Accidental Alliance drama seemed to be dropped at the end where Brendan/Rachel were interacting with the other teams like nothing happened. This is also the first season to cut the intro for several episodes. So mostly entertaining but some unsatisfying storylines and editing choices.
  
• Dave/Connor are 2 of the more unique winners, as opposed to the “dull” Jason/Amy and Bates/Anthony type winners. The first parent/child winners, the oldest individual to win, and had a great story of being medevaced the first time and returning to win. Some find them likeable, some find them annoying, but I prefer them to a team we don’t care about at all. I probably would have preferred a Leo/Jamal win or the craziness of a Brendan/Rachel win…but it was an okay result but not great.
  

*************************************
Route

• This season had a terrible route! No new countries (besides 1 task in Wales), only 3 continents, lots of double legs in 1 country (first 8 legs were 2 legs in China, 2 legs in Malaysia, 2 legs in Sri Lanka, 2 legs in Italy) and lots of simple city legs that look like post-Covid routes (Leg 2 for example looked like it only took teams less than 2 hours to complete and the pit stop was like 20 mins away from the previous one). Apparently a lot of legs were designed last minute which I understand. Besides the Family Edition, I think TAR21’s route was worse though because TAR24 had slightly more iconic sites (Canton Tower, Petronus Towers, Coliseum and Spanish steps, Mount Titlus, first visit to Wales, Las Vegas strip) and a bit of a variety with snow, rainforests, cities etc. Terrible starting line at that college - a starting line isn’t a huge deal but it does get you hyped when it’s at an epic location (like next season’s Times Square).
  
• A lot of the challenges were also very cheap looking and simple for an All Stars. Challenges like operating a remote controlled chariot and shaving a balloon look very underwhelming. Not many challenges stood out besides pouring the drinks/DJ Detour (a fantastic Detour) and remembering the Welsh poem. They should have just resorted to Switchbacks of classic destinations and challenges as that would suit an All Star season. And some odd choices in regards to predetermined flights (lots of sign-ups for flights rather than flight searching) and Dave/Connor’s 5-8 Road Block distribution didn’t make sense.
  
• This season basically had the same format as the last few seasons which I don’t mind. It brought back the twist where the winner of the Express Pass gives a 2nd one to another team. It was unique this season because for the first time a team gave away the Express Pass at a challenge and basically “burnt it”. Besides that, this season also had 2 Double U-Turns and Speed Bumps. No Fast Forwards which is a shame because I think it adds something slightly interesting to those episodes. Only the 3rd season to not have a Fast Forward.
  

*************************************
Cast Ranking
1.Brendan/Rachel - they carried this season! Rachel started out as not wanting to be her old emotional self and was a lot less whinier than TAR20 (although I preferred her meltdowns honestly haha). She had a “heroic” edit where she prayed rather than getting stressed out - also supported Luke at the cocktails challenge and helped Brendan get through the plate spinning. However they are also responsible for the biggest drama of the season - U-Turning Dave/Connor and the “We hate the Brenchels” storyline. Once again Rachel has most of the cast hating her…and I love it! Rachel then reverted back to her old crying self in the last 3 legs with meltdowns at the bulls, crying at the Wellington toss and picking fights in the finale. So still crazy, still got her sequins, fell over a few times haha, bizarre lines (saying “I want to win to get a baby” over and over haha) and provided the drama and laughs that this season needed.

1. Dave/Connor - the rivals of the Brenchels and made the next biggest impact! They seemed very sweet and relatable like at the disco “We’re just 2 Mormon boys from Salt Lake City” haha and I liked their sweet bond with Caroline/Jennifer where they let them step on the mat in front of them. But they also feel annoying and entitled. Dave mentioned his achilles A LOT, Dave complained about his age A LOT ("Yeah outrunning an old man", “U-Turning a 60 year old man” and “This is a young person’s game”), complained about Brenchels A LOT and they seemed very self righteous over the U-Turn. Their involvement in the Accidental Alliance came across as childish rather than noble, “That snotty woman! She’s scary looking!” So I'm not sure if they were meant to be likeable or not - they sort of sucked a lot of the fun out of the season honestly. But a decent redemption for them and they made a decent impact and got us talking.
   
2. Leo/Jamal - still fun and likeable with some sneaky moments but more toned down than last time. A few cheeky moments like “We love you Connor, we love you Connor” when he finished the sewing (hoping for help), but then “I’m kidding, I don’t” after they left. Strategic again like when they wanted to lie to Jet/Cord at one stage but didn’t because they wanted to avoid the U-Turn this time. Made the smart decision rather than the emotional one when U-Turning the threats Jet/Cord. Unfortunately finished in 4th place again.
   
3. Jet/Cord - the cowboys are “back in the saddle”! Another likeable team but I found Leo/Jamal more interesting. They were “threats” again, “We’re like butter, we’re on a roll” when coming in 1st haha and also worked alone again “We’re used to being the lone rangers”. I sort of liked how they didn’t join in on the Brenchel drama. Still find them a bit overrated but I know a lot of viewers enjoyed seeing them again.
   
4. Caroline/Jennifer - were the sweethearts and underdogs who weren’t great racers but slid by each week (and saved by 2 non-eliminations). I thought they were likeable enough, “Who would u-turn Dave/Connor, they’re the sweetest guys…and have great hair” haha Were proud of their flirting again and used it to get an Express Pass off Jet/Cord…and were helped multiple times by Leo/Jamal and Dave/Connor. You don’t need to be a strong “girl power” team…the underdogs who get through by flirting are just as interesting haha But weren’t that great TV honestly….like last time.
   
5. Mark/Mallory - a fascinating dynamic even though most fans didn’t like this hybrid. In a way it did damage the reputation of 2 fan favorites (Mark/Bopper and Gary/Mallory) because they were very negative to one another (Mark refusing to race without the backpack despite having everything he needed, and Mallory seemed uncaring and not taking responsibility) but I enjoyed their drama. I liked how Mallory joked about losing their passport on leg 1…and the foreshadowing. I prefer their messy dynamic rather than them just being nice and boring for 2 legs.
   
6. Natalie/Nadiya - screamed at eachother through the whole 1st episode and I loved every minute they were on screen “It’s in Asian, I can’t read it!” haha They were such a hot mess in their 1 episode and possibly my favourite first boots! This season would have been so much better if we saw them involved in the Brenchel drama later, and I would have loved to see some more crazy moments and seeing them get to visit Sri Lanka.
   
7. Margie/Luke - the last 4 didn’t really contribute much this season. These 2 are ahead because I always enjoy watching their dynamic with their sweet bond and occasional bickering (nothing bad, just normal healthy struggles). Luke’s sexuality was finally brought up (a nice scene where Luke explains his coming out to Margie) and I liked Margie saying that when Luke pulls her this time, he has to be gentler because she’s older haha Felt very likeable this time, like when they were reflecting on the train ride in Sri Lanka.
   
8. Flight Time/Big Easy - they were fine but didn’t do much this season. They had a nice moment dancing with the locals in Borneo, joking about the Beekmans winning with roller bags, and talking to their wooden donkey when they couldn’t work out what they did wrong. So ultimately a few more fun moments than the 2 ranked below them. Didn’t feel like they wanted to be there as much as previous seasons.
   
9. John/Jessica - didn’t do much this time. They were at the centre of lots of storylines in TAR22 but I think that was just “lucky circumstances” rather than them being big characters. They were just a generic nice couple here. It was nice though seeing Joey/Meghan and John/Jessica helping each other again like last time (and Brendan/Rachel having a random final 3 alliance with them haha). Their only moment here was them working with other teams thinking Caroline/Jennifer were behind them, and losing a footrace.
   
10. Joey/Meghan - Also didn’t do much and the only difference is John/Jessica made it further. Joey just played up to the cameras like last time (screeching “White is not my color” at the wedding dresses) but they were still likeable enough. Their only storyline was Meaghan helping John despite the 2 of them being in last place. So not the smartest move but nice that they still have that friendship.
    

*************************************
Leg Rankings
1.Leg 8 - Italy (F6 - Flight Time/Big Easy eliminated) - the most entertaining episode of the season! So much drama going on between all teams and great scenery. Brendan/Rachel U-Turning Dave/Connor…with Dave’s irrational hatred for the rest of the leg plus Brendan/Rachel disagreeing over who to U-Turn. Then Dave/Connor helping Leo/Jamal (despite U-Turning them too and calling it a “blessed u-turn” haha). Decent challenges - racing donkeys (teams falling off especially Rachel, and the donkey struggling with Big Easy haha), building a wooden donkey (teams not using the box as part of it, many switches) and writing the Ancient manuscript (dull but some teams still struggled and was made better with Dave not accepting an apology and later mocking Brendan/Rachel). Rachel was hilarious “They can’t get me in a place of worship” haha Also had Dave/Connor and Caroline/Jennifer working together (with Dave/Connor accidentally losing them just like Bates/Anthony did) and just a good mix of fun and drama! Not for everyone, but I liked it.

1. Leg 4 - Malaysia (F8 - Non elimination) - fantastic, especially the Kuala Lumpur section at the end. The beginning in Kota Kinabalu had the trampoline challenge which had Jessica struggling and injuring her foot and Rachel having to take off her pantyhose because she was slipping haha But Kuala Lumpur had the Petronus Towers and Batu Caves, a night leg plus a fantastic Detour (if you ignore that it was impossible for Luke to do the DJ routine). Pouring the cocktails and the DJ routine had lots of teams struggling with placement shifts from the flights (one of my favorite Detours). Luke has a meltdown and smashes the glasses (Margie yelling like a mother to pick them up haha) and Rachel of all people calms him down. 3 hours later Brendan/Rachel pray and have a very positive edit and music (and don’t accept Margie/Luke’s offer for both to take a penalty) and a great ending between these 2. Loved the music and close up of Rachel’s cross haha Would be the best leg of the season if the whole leg was in Kuala Lumpur.
   
2. Leg 2 - China (F10 - Mark/Mallory eliminated) - it looked like a cheap Covid leg but pretty exciting overall. Some great drama with Mallory forgetting Mark’s bag and arguing about going back for it, “People from Kentucky don’t act this way” and Mark being like “I don’t have much and I mean nothing to her”. A trainwreck but can’t stop watching! Jet/Cord walk for a long time and lose their 1st place lead and some okay navigation drama at the start. Building the toy car at “Chuck e Cheese on steroids” was fun - a little girl annoying Flight Time, Meghan helping her ally John (despite being last), and especially Caroline struggling and Jen managing to get the Express Pass off Jet/Cord, “I knew I’d get it off him” hehe. The featherball was also fun with all teams so close together, and Mark/Mallory just not working well together at all. No team chose the massage, and I don’t mind watching teams in pain haha but I prefer skill based challenges so I don’t mind. 7 teams then check in together at the pit stop together. Very fun and fast paced!
   
3. Leg 11 - England/Wales (F4 - Leo/Jamal eliminated) - was decent and felt competitive enough but not as top tier as past final 4’s - mediocre tasks for a final 4 elimination and not many storylines but not too dull. Soccer task was ok but nothing special, shooting the clay pigeons/tossing wellingtons was terrible (still felt tense though at the end…and I guess it made Rachel crack), but I really enjoyed remembering the Welsh poem on the aqueduct (good scenery, cultural and challenging). The costumes and castle looked nice - “we’re in Downton Abbey” and Rachel finally has a TAR20 type meltdown when she picks the wrong size shoe and cries like a child (the foreshadowing at the start when Rachel says “I’m proud that I haven’t freaked out yet”). Placement shifts, self driving, Rachel meltdowns are always a positive for me, and actually had a strange positive edit where the final 4 were getting along. So still enjoyable overall and a sad ending for Leo/Jamal. Just needed a few better challenges, especially the Detour at the end.
   
4. Leg 7 - Italy (F7 - John/Jessica eliminated) - a good enough leg but would rank higher if it had bigger moments or storylines. It had the Coliseum, many teams together at the final puzzle (Roman Numerals) which is always a plus (Flight Time hilariously having no clue how to do it, Rachel not helping teams, and Leo/Jamal strategically helping last place teams)…and a foot race for last with teams thinking Caroline/Jennifer were behind. However the challenges were embarrassingly bad - remote controlled chariots seemed so silly and out of place (feels very inauthentic to the Ancient Roman theme), the gladiator routine was silly, and counting the Spanish steps wasn’t that hard as long as a local could tell you the Roman Numerals. Finding the site of the “unhappy Roman holiday” had some difficulties, Rachel thinking the “eternal city” is Ethiopia for some reason haha and while the detours were silly, they had some funny struggles with Leo “I watched all 4 seasons of Spartacus”. And of course a very close finish!
   
5. Leg 9 - Switzerland (F5 - Non elimination) - challenges were okay and nice Swiss scenery…but very big on the “We hate Brenchels” drama! I don’t mind it but can understand why some may find it annoying this episode. The “Accidental Alliance” is created on the train with teams mocking Rachel’s “I want to race around the world with my best friend” haha. And celebrate getting to clueboxes before Brendan/Rachel, helping one another “their family” and also complaining about them A LOT! Cleaning the room was okay as an attention to detail task and Jet was like “Now my wife knows I can clean”, and Helga “Figure it out!” was a great judge! Working out that the object is a drillbit for a tunnel plus the Mustang Puzzle were nice simple tasks - Rachel thinking it’s a wheel haha and Dave/Connor giving their allies answers. Delivering the milk through the snow at the end was a bit dull besides Brendan writing “TAR24 WINNERS BRENCHEL” on the gondola haha So just an okay leg but depends whether you like the “We hate the Brenchels” storyline.
   
6. Leg 6 - Sri Lanka (F7 - Non elimination) - another “okay” leg. Started strong with the tuk tuk Road Block - Rachel was fantastic screaming “GREEN GREEN GREEN” but her colours being wrong (her ally John eventually helps her). Lots of fun chaos with everyone manhandling tuk tuks “I was booty bumping rickshaws out of the way” haha But then there’s a train equaliser and delivering logs with an elephant/make paper from elephant dung was boring (and arguably animal cruelty making the elephant do that). “You’re only as fast as your big fat elephant”. They’re okay cultural tasks but not that difficult or interesting besides a few bubbles when making the paper. Nothing much happens besides some foot races - Jet/Cord vs Leo/Jamal “It’s Indians vs. Cowboys! And the Indians are WINNING!” haha and also Dave whining that John/Jessica outrun him “Yeah beat the old man”. The tuk tuk segment was a highlight of this season and it’s unfortunate that there was an equaliser and that the 2nd half dragged.
   
7. Leg 10 - Spain (F5 - Jet/Cord eliminated) - felt like a bit of a cheap and underwhelming final 5 elimination leg with some really silly challenges - shaving a balloon and running with bull costumes. A bit of the Brenchel drama (Dave saying the U-Turn was “kind of inappropriate” when it really wasn’t haha and “Dave/Connor are the sweetest guys on the planet”). Leo/Jamal decide to U-Turn Jet/Cord instead of Brendan/Rachel…but not that interesting “There’s only room for two cowboys on this race and it’s Leo and Jamal! Yeehaw!” Haha Shaving the balloon was terrible, nothing much from the flamenco dance, delivering the hams was a boring and generic Speed Bump, and the bull costumes were silly but at least had some fun moments - Rachel was hilarious as always getting knocked around like crazy saying the bulls were ”bullies”, Dave complaining “I’m an old matador”, Jet/Cord missing parts of the phrase, plus Jamal’s knee injury. It wasn’t necessarily too boring which is why it isn’t ranked lower.
   
8. Leg 1 - China (F11 - Natalie/Nadiya eliminated) - was terribly designed! The challenges were finding the Chinese symbols on the band members (very quick and forgettable starting line task), finding wedding dresses (had an okay navigational element and the only decent task), the Canton Tower bubbles (luck based and terrible) and summersaults (terrible, impossible to fail, too tame of a height challenge for All Stars, Caroline “Flight Time looks like a sexy piece of spinning meat”). Natalie/Nadiya were fantastic entertainment and saved this episode from being terrible by yelling “YOU IDIOT” and “I TOLD YOU” over and over (and even argue over who is doing the Road Block). “Those are Chinese flags, not race flags you lunatic!” It also had Bopper’s medevac which was a dramatic start and it’s nice seeing all the returnees bantering with one another (Brenchel army at the airport and Natalie/Nadiya joking about Rachel’s crying). But not much content besides Twinnie craziness, Jet/Cord dominating, and teams struggling to find the wedding dresses.
   
9. Leg 12 - USA (F3 - Finale) - for a finale, let alone the All Stars finale, the challenges were too easy - digging for a chest (boring), David Copperfield routine (impossible to fail and only designed to show off David Copperfield), putting lightbulbs in the Mirage sign (not challenging and only designed to show off Las Vegas) and looking for the neon sign in the helicopteskydive (didn’t look that hard to find). Very unsatisfying. But it wasn’t too boring with some minor drama with Brendan/Rachel and Caroline/Jennifer having a fight at customs (not caught on camera so just explained through talking) and there’s some arguing while digging for the chest (throwing sand in each other’s holes). Plus Brendan screaming at a taxi “We’re in a race so we can have a baby” haha plus Brendan/Rachel lost in a hotel that Rachel once worked at. And to be fair, it was very close between Dave/Connor and Caroline/Jennifer - sprinting to the final clue and waiting to see who skydived first. And a night leg in Las Vegas was a great idea…just terribly designed!
   
10. Leg 5 - Sri Lanka (F8 - Margie/Luke eliminated) - unfortunately a dull leg because Margie/Luke were an obvious elimination. It did have some great airport scrambles which is always welcome in the modern era (Brendan/Rachel taking a risk on a short connection and Margie/Luke failing to get on standby). Sewing the t-shirt had potential to be a tough interesting challenge…but needed to have all teams together. Several teams struggled, teams worked together (Jessica and Brendan, as well as Connor helping a struggling Jennifer) and Big Easy really struggled “If I have to sew something I’ll just ask my fiancé or my mother…or just buy something new” haha and Flight Time just shows off his basketball skills. The fishing had to be one of the dullest challenges ever and balancing the plates wasn’t much better (although Rachel is the one telling Brendan to calm down here). Printing the t-shirts was also a boring Speed Bump. Margie/Luke are way behind and have a nice scene enjoying the Sri Lankan train ride, but not much excitement.
    
11. Leg 3 - Malaysia (F9 - Joey/Meghan eliminated) - was terribly designed - boring challenges (repelling down a waterfall, delivering goods, blowdart) and separating the flights by 3 hours just didn’t make sense as there was little drama for the top 6…and then 3 teams far behind. And flight scrambles are always better than sign-ups. The top 6 just went through three tasks robotically, and even the bottom 3 had little drama or stress. I guess there was a bit of a storyline about the Brenchel army being the bottom 3 and facing the fact one of the friends will go. But Joey/Meghan are obvious boots after struggling to find a taxi. The only interesting parts were the rafts falling apart in the rapids and Rachel repelling in her underwear so her sequins don’t get wet “God forbid she lose some sequins along the way” haha The promos really hyped up the dangerous rapids and they were fine for that short segment but no drama came from them in the episode.
    

*************************************
Summary
Not a great season but I feel gets unfair hate (just like the Family Edition which also had bad leg designs, bad route, drama that some found annoying). I don’t think it was terrible as most legs had things happening that made each one interesting enough. Everyone vs Brenchels was similar to Everyone vs Weavers (had some interesting aspects, better than nothing, but was a bit annoying at times). The cast, route and challenges were unsatisfying but entertainment is most important to me and this season was usually not boring. TAR8 and TAR24 had similar weaknesses/frustrations so I’m ranking them together. I enjoyed TAR24 slightly more but I could see TAR24 getting a 5 or less if it wasn’t a returnee season, as it had some similarities to TAR16 (many teams were compelling because of their history rather than things they did on this season).
*************************************
So after each season I will place it on a ranking:
1.TAR5 - 10/10

1. TAR3 - 10/10
   
2. TAR12 - 9/10
   
3. TAR17 - 9/10
   
4. TAR18 - 9/10
   
5. TAR2 - 8/10
   
6. TAR7 - 8/10
   
7. TAR20 - 8/10
   
8. TAR11 - 8/10
   
9. TAR13 - 8/10
   
10. TAR6 - 8/10
    
11. TAR10 - 7/10
    
12. TAR22 - 7/10
    
13. TAR14 - 7/10
    
14. TAR1 - 7/10
    
15. TAR9 - 7/10
    
16. TAR21 - 6/10
    
17. TAR15 - 6/10
    
18. TAR23 - 6/10
    
19. TAR4 - 6/10
    
20. TAR24 - 6/10
    
21. TAR8 - 6/10
    
22. TAR19 - 5/10
    
23. TAR16 - 5/10
    

*************************************

I hadn’t watched RHOBH for a long time. Recently jumped back in at season 12.
I am no fan of Sutton. Literally the only thing I’ve liked about her is that she friends with Jennifer Tilly.
BUT for this woman, who has some role in the medical field, to not just question the way Sutton chooses to share & describe her medical condition is DISGUSTING!
Sutton has probably been explaining this her whole life. She has a way to describe it to best make others understand the issue and only revealing as much as she wants. She doesn’t owe anyone more explanation or justification or documentation than she wants to.
For that woman to not just question it, but dig into Sutton’s condition with other medical professionals without Sutton’s consent is gross.
AND THEN to throw around EATING DISORDER ?! Crystal was dead on when she called her a bitch.

BEWARE of this partnership! They are currently approaching investors with a prospectus trying to raise $20M for their Saskatchewan revitalization project. They will buy multi unit buildings as well as other properties in poor areas of SK and generate revenue. Kardia is deeply broke (or at least this is what they tell over 100 investors they owe millions of dollars to, past and current employees they owe multiple paychecks to, and any other services they owe money to including lawyers/rent/etc).
Saretzky Holdings Ltd owned by Jennifer and Greg Saretzky does own assets and have a successful albeit smaller property management business. They are allowing Kardia to use their financials to appear to be a healthy company to rope investors in further. This allows them to share in the profits of this massive project despite their awareness of Kardia not paying security deposits back to their tenants, letting them live without heat, letting them live in absurd conditions.
Kardia is also using “exclusive contracts for sale” in their pitch saying they own the rights to buy x number of properties for this project. In these contracts they’re supposed to be paying owners their costs to hold the property ie mortgage and property tax. Kardia is in arrears for these holding costs to nearly every single owner but collect rent from their tenants. Employees Syed Warsi, Zienab Hamdan, Andrea Jones, and Katelin Friesen are actively involved in perpetuating this scam.
This is a scam through and through; Kardia and it’s directors Carolin Gallardo , Christan Hiscock , Michael T. hamdar are under investigation by the Alberta Securities Commission for the millions overdue and this latest pitch for money is likely to continue the cycle of starting to pay the bare minimum if anything at all to past investors to allow themselves to continue to operate. They have already tried sending payout statements to select investors only and for the wrong amounts. Shame on Saretzky Holdings Ltd for being complicit. I expect next year the ASC will be knocking on their door.

There are some cases that just stick with us, and one big reason that cases tend to stick with me is that something about it just hits me "close to home." Sometimes it hits literally close to home- you may personally know someone connected to the case, or it could be in the town or city where you live. But some cases hit "close to home" in a more figurative way- there may be something about the victim or the situation that reminds you of yourself, or someone you know.
For me, a case that hits more figuratively close to home is that of Jennifer Kesse.
Jennifer was a 24-year-old woman who was living and working in Orlando, Florida, when she went missing on January 23, 2006. She had a boyfriend, with whom she vacationed with in the US Virgin Islands just a few days before vanishing; however, her boyfriend lived in a different part of the state, and Jennifer lived alone in the condominium she'd just bought in Orlando.
She was last seen the evening before her disappearance leaving work at 6:00 PM. She spoke with her father on the phone at around 6:15 PM, and then had a call with her boyfriend at 10:00 PM. That was the last time that anyone heard from her. She typically texted or called her boyfriend before leaving for work in the morning, and she didn't do either the day of her disappearance. He attempted to call her around 8:00 am but her phone went straight to voicemail. The fact that she didn't contact him that morning was unusual but didn't seem to be initially alarming for him, as he chalked it up to her having a meeting that morning. She was reported missing when she didn't show up to work and had not called out, which was unusual for her, and her employer notified her parents.
Her parents made their way to Orlando but called the manager at her condo complex to check on her. He entered her unit with a spare key, and reported that everything seemed to be normal inside the condo but that her car was missing. When her family arrived, they found signs that Jennifer had likely gotten ready for work that morning. There was a damp towel in the bathroom, the shower was still wet in the corners, makeup left out on the counter, and the t-shirt she'd worn to bed was on the floor. Her phone, keys, and purse weren't in the apartment, and as had been noted by the manager, her car was missing.
A few days after her disappearance, Jennifer's car was found parked at another apartment complex. Surveillance footage from that complex showed someone parking the car at around 11 am the day Jennifer went missing, getting out, and striding away. Frustratingly, the person's face was obscured by fencing, and you cannot even tell if the person is male or female. They were wearing what looked to be coveralls, similar to what a painter or maintenance worker might wear, and investigators were able to determine that the person's height was between 5'3 and 5'5. However, no other information about this person can be gleaned from the footage, Jennifer's family and friends did not recognize them, and they are still unidentified.
As always, investigators started looking at those close with her as potential suspects before moving outward. Her family were cleared early on, as was her boyfriend; they'd had an argument on the phone the night before, but he had an alibi that checked out. An ex-boyfriend was also looked at, as he had recently been wanting to get back together with her, but he was also eliminated as a suspect. A manager at her work was also looked at, because he had wanted to be in a relationship with her but she had turned him down. However, as with the others, he was eventually ruled out. There were renovations happening at her condominium complex and Jennifer had mentioned that some of the workers made her feel uncomfortable by catcalling her. The workers were not interviewed due to a language barrier, as most were non-English speaking (this really gets me- I find it hard to believe that a police force in Florida didn't have Spanish translators available) and they are almost certainly lost to follow-up by this point. No trace of Jennifer has been found in the 20 years since her disappearance, with no solid leads about what happened to her.
This case hits so close to home for me because Jennifer reminds me of myself in many ways- a young professional woman, living alone and trying to make her way in the world, with so much going for her. I am a bit older than her but live alone in an apartment building, and sometimes I do get worried about something happening to me as I'm leaving to go on a run at 5:45 am, coming home at 10 or 11 after a night out with friends, etc.
What cases really hit close to home for you, and why?
Sources:
The Charley Project
FOX News
CBS News
Person of Interest
Disappearance of Jennifer Kesse

~Rayray~
It felt frustrating in Chongqing. I was rather stuck in Hechuan. I got accustomed to lajiao (spice) there. I was a Midwesterner at the age of 22. I was raised in Illinois. I became a manic—a Ferris wheel on fire—I was hiding under a bed in a hotel. Bold like napalm. Sometimes I can never stop. Even when I was 18 in a ward arguing with staff. Always want to fight things. That’s why I refused the meds and went on a plane from America to China. I was going to be an English teacher. And like a light switch, the change and SSRIs turned me into a mess. It would be my first time experiencing psychosis. My biggest issue. I never imagined I would be stuck illegally in a country suffering a psychotic episode in my early twenties.
Transplanted as pollen. I was left with a backpack and a cellphone. With a downloaded app called WeChat. I had arrogantly quit a university job in a fit. Spent the past months full of energy and not sleeping and neglecting myself, including not eating, to work on a novel. Not considering myself normally religious, I had obsessed over occult ideas during that time. Spending nights reading Aleister Crowley—haven taken a rusty pocket knife to carve a pentagram on my chest for spiritual protection.
I did not have funds to fly home. My visa was connected to my previous job, which meant I had now made it void. I was an illegal resident now in China.
I used a nifty app called WeChat as a messaging app, it allows users to find people near them that are also looking for others. It was like a virtual pond. All kinds of people, including sex workers trying to make things happen.
It could with luck be used to find people looking for people in terms of other kinds of work. It was helpful on many occasions for finding gigs working at English training schools and also finding work as a private tutor for people.
WeChat also works as a digital wallet.
Mania makes me irritable. Enough to tell a boss to fuck off. Thoughts ricochet within me. Bumper cars collide.
Being stuck and angry sucks. I scrolled and scrolled on a Huawei phone.
Absolutely pissed off at this world.
Pissed at the times police wanted to take me away for being a mess.
Sometimes women get pissed. Scrolling through their phones. Angry at their cheating husbands. It really is not that hard to have flair—be a damn white oddity. Like moths to a porchlight. Particles of sand through hands. This is when I first started the habit of it…
I rather go by a rather empty name of Rayray… with further explanation needed but now is not convenient. But I assure it is interesting enough and has some importance.
Habits are various in nature in how they attach to and eat at marrow—like atom bombs flashing as rays evaporating DNA—sets in a way less than human as putting myself in the cage of bad things taken up—my time as a former heroin addict is left as stretch marks on me in various ways. The same goes for the first time I found myself making arrangements with middle aged married women while desperation of waves whiplashed me like sandpaper hands coming at me to leave me in a tiring state of abrasion.
I had spent a night snuck away into a hotel. Found someone on a business trip. Instead of registering I waited to sneak along into the hotel elevator amongst a group of others attending the hotel, as I had no card. I headed to a designated room number. Originally I was sitting in a park. Playing on WeChat and found someone in their mid-thirties. Pictures were exchanged and I said no. She brought up paying for the hotel if I arrived. I agreed and went along.
When I met I washed up after her and we used our phones to awkwardly translate what we would do.
Room service knocked. I found myself hidden under a bed as I was not registered to be there.
It seems unusual that it was around this time I had started working on a story of my life as a heroin addict when I got caught up in my worse manic episode ever experienced during my age of 22. Finished half that story before never going back to it after my manic episode had ended. Now I am here writing about it and wondering if the same can happen again in the process of this work.
It feels extremely cliché I would write a novel about struggles with heroin addiction. It has been done many times. It’s just lame of me.
I feel like my thoughts are bit off. I left the hotel the next morning with the little money I did have on a debit card. Turns out the woman was from Taiyuan. It is a city in the northern part of China in the province of Shanxi—coal country with the worst air pollution in China. She has a colleague in Taiyuan that takes courses at an English training center. I was able to contact this place in the morning via a shared contact on WeChat given to me by the stranger I met that night.
Before I knew it I was sending my information and documents in my backpack at an internet café in a fax—with the intent that the woman agreed to share my information to the training center as she shared my contact to its hiring manager. It would land me a job that day that would help me out of my situation. Things turned not quite out as I expected though. I was shifted like a ball to somebody else to contact for a training center geared to teaching children.
I took what I had and ran off to a train station after taking the public transit. Unfortunately I was shit for money and could not afford a high speed rail pass. The slow train would take thirty-two hours to get to my destination. I would have taken a room with a bed but all I could afford was a hard seat for the travel.
Things were getting better for me in the circumstance considering I had found someone willing to take me for work despite my visa situation.
The thirty-two hour train ride was horrendous in some ways, but mostly I was in excitement despite the circumstances. I’m always giddy when disappointed. I moved up and down the aisle of the train. I could not speak mandarin, but it did not stop me from trying to interact with everyone. I talked many ears off during the train ride. I went up and down the aisle trying to interact as a moth to porchlights—I could not stop even if I had wanted to. I found great enjoyment the times I did get to sit across a table from somebody my age heading to Taiyuan from Chongqing. They were a university student returning to their hometown. Another passenger who sat beside me was an elderly man with hard boiled eggs, he was eating one after another one. I highly enjoyed each and every conversation that I had. It was like my head was a lightbulb wanting June bugs to bang against it with the intensity of Roman candles shot at my mouth of nicotine tinged teeth.

“If you find someone in Shanxi it is practice to pay the family money before you can get married. You would also have to already own a home and a car,” told my new friend across in their seat from me—a university passenger friend named David.

“Not necessarily what I was looking for. When is the next stop for snacks?” When the train stops I am able to get out and to have a walk onto the platform to buy various goods from the vendors to take back with me to eat along the ride to Taiyuan.

I had all my important documents tucked in my bag. This included my health clearance and obviously I made no mention of my mental health diagnosis or history to the doctor who had to evaluate me. My diploma and TEFL certificate were tucked away securely. A TEFL is a certificate that stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language, it qualifies me to teach English as a second language abroad—it had only took a few months of taking a course online that I had paid for to obtain.
It is easy to be happy when you can trick yourself as your own con artist. Mania can make you deceive yourself. One can be doused in napalm and still not fully recognize what is actually going on. Same goes the flicking of psychosis. Even when I have nothing I find myself in my radiating irritation the most qualified of things—the velocity of my rhythm sets me out of an orbit.
The pressure cooker keeps me moving like a propeller at times. I finally arrived at Taiyuan. I arrived at the station to be greeted by Ryan my manager and his assistant Jennifer. We had our hello and introduction and they helped me get to a taxi that would bring me to my new apartment. I finally had a residence again. Apparently they were desperate for a teacher. The last teacher was from New Mexico and apparently they pulled a midnight run—that is when a teacher in the middle of the night disappears onto a plane back home without any notification of it.
The apartment was okay. On the fourth floor with no elevator, so it was a bit of a climb up a dark stairwell not lit correctly.
My job was a training center that had a location near Yingze Park in the center of the city. I was to be paid in cash via envelopes. I would assist in teaching kindergarten all the way up to high school aged students there in private lessons paid by their parents. I would also be assigned by my company to various primary schools in the city. I would take public buses to various schools paid by the company I worked for to give English lessons as I bounced around to various classrooms and schools in the city. Often I would receive a phone call to avoid going to work that day if my boss got inside input that officials would be doing raids to check foreigners’ visas that day.

A taxi ride would always be a thrill. Caused me nerves at first, but I came to love the flying in dangerous ways along a busy road. I remember a driver beeping their horn away as they drove onto the sidewalk to pass people. They treated the pedestrians as if they were in the wrong. I came flying in front of a primary school at its front gates. I was going to start teaching a first grade classroom and a kindergarten classroom. The way schools are set up is with a wall around the entirety of the exterior of the school. There is a gate at the front where one or two security will be waiting to let people in and out of the complex of the school.

I walked in front of the gate to greet the security. It was my first time with an assignment at this school. The guard said they had never seen me before and wouldn’t let me in. Not a big nuisance while I called my boss who then called the school to sort out the situation.

I miss the classroom so much. I ended up teaching in China for five years at various training schools. After returning to Illinois, I still taught as a primary school teacher in a public school.

I often feel extremely ugly from inside to my outside, but something is attractive there. This does not come just in terms of flirting and relationships—mania makes me a genuine lightbulb that flickers in a way that encourages the insects to me—everyone looks like a June bug—this is what I have come to understand about life. But that ugly does kind of stay like rot in a cavity that leaves a bad taste in the mouth that smells foul—hoping nobody catches the smell near me—it must tie into my struggles with bulimia over the years.

The same goes for my years as a teacher—in relation to the whole lightbulb phenomenon—I’m positive it is tied to mania and hypomania. The younger students always were fixated on the information I was teaching to them. I kept over the years methods taught to me and self-taught that I found extremely effective with younger students when it comes to teaching.
Everything was physical in learning in terms of intensity and ambition. When teaching my first grade classroom I would create flashcards for the vocab we would work on and implement in creating new sentences with. We would chant these words together in a way that made me a clown while teaching. Students would yell out the word that I presented with intense enthusiasm. As I walked by students it was expected that while they yelled out the word they would also physically hit the card. Later I would also work on physical gestures and acting out of vocab words and they would follow the actions and phrases with me.
I would often eventually turn the class into two teams. When students got an answer right I would behave comically and full of energy—I would give them a high five and pretend they were so strong with it that it hurt my hand in the process with much exaggeration—the students always seemed to never get tired of this act.
One game I would play involved drawing two stick figures with happy faces on them. Each figure would represent one of the teams for the classroom. I would draw a hungry alligator under the figures. Their faces would also be comical in appearance and full of exaggerations. Each figure had a parachute placed over them and four strings attached. During the game the students would race to say the word correctly represented on the flashcard or the correct word for the gesture I was making. The team that was not the slowest would lose a string on the parachute. If a team lost all four strings they would fall to the alligator who would eat them. The students found it hilarious with my actions involved in it. I would also draw tears and a person praying to represent anticipation and worry of falling down each time they lost a string.
I had a tooth game too. I would draw too large faces for each team. The team that could answer the flashcards and gestures the quickest would have a tooth drawn in their mouth. The team with the most teeth would win and it would look rather funny as the mouth grew and grew with an abnormal and extreme amount of teeth.
I often did other physical and interactive games like having students run to the word I showed a card to or gestured—each word would be attached to a point in the classroom on a wall.
I know it sounds grandiose, but the parents always seemed to think I was great at my job.
The word vulnerable means so many things to me. That word is like the coal to form the generator that makes the guiding energy for the ethics I follow in my life—I hold very strongly to these values that have developed on how to live—I can express it more later but I greatly attach a kind of Christian value system to it, which makes sense considering I was raised in a Lutheran household and always went to church, Sunday school, and went to my courses and went through my confirmation—everyone is a bit of a mop—some pick up clean water and others dirty or a mix of it—waiting to find the people to drain them voluntarily or involuntarily. I was born vulnerable. I walk pigeon-toed and grew up tripping on my feet—I speak with a soft feminine voice. Bipolar disorder makes somebody vulnerable. There was much vulnerability in being eighteen and hospitalized involuntarily for my first manic episode—tied to a stretcher. I have almost a sense of us vs them—the vulnerable and those that harm the vulnerable—take advantage of the vulnerable—I feel this is a very much Christian in the idea of the unfortunate are more holy than the rest of the bunch—children are like that in terms of being born into a cruel existence—a cruel existence I felt at times in my life and so many do—making sure harm does not come to those in need gives the light of purpose to go bright inside like a Christmas tree in my brain—this light of happiness and warmth. I never expected I would fall in love for teaching due to the antidepressant effect provided. It would become my career for a decade. Some grow up wanting to be a teacher, I became one by accident, desperation, and being saved.
Sometimes I inflate on self-hate like a helium balloon that needs to be tied to a wrist to not float away.
In my early teens I started struggling with bulimia and image. I remember when my mother caught me in the act. I was not offered help but criticized. I was called a girl for my problems and threatened to be taken somewhere to be fixed of my confusion. I don’t identify as transgender. I identify as a man that struggles with bulimia and happens to have feminine qualities.
I attribute it to circumstances that happened to me—a justification for the pain at times—an attack on aspects of bisexuality.
After a long day of work I did what my young self often did. I went clubbing with friends. I feel like even if I hide aspects of myself such as being bisexual, people can spot it regardless. I’m extremely secretive about it and not comfortable displaying that vulnerable aspect of myself.
My friend from England went with me. He was about six years my senior. Big guy. Tall. The clubs name was Maoye.
I always enjoyed the free drinks available to foreigners—it was done to attract Chinese clients, as the idea was foreigners being there would attract people.
Amongst the hot and sweltering crowd a man grabbed ahold of me. I felt stuck. I was taken off guard. Pushed and cornered. While on me I managed to push him off. But it all serves as a reminder of the vulnerability of my life.
A nail was placed into my hand—a constant burn and reminder of that vulnerability.

Part 2
From self-hate I can also be so grandiose. I am like a Christmas tree that is lit up. Sparklers so pretty that you cannot let go of them, even if it burns your fingertips and hurts.

From heroin to sex, you can smother the pain. You drain the ocean to fill a void in these times. It ties to mania as well. That restlessness and irritability is extinguished by the paradox of throwing kerosene to everything burning. I’m so grandiose to hide my insecurities, I mistake my misfortune as a mark of something ugly virtuous—the neon of vulnerability pulsating like a star within me. Swelling on a pain.

Bad habits. I want you to judge me and tell me what’s wrong with me. Give me a verdict.
Stress a trigger for mania, and I was stressed from the incident I had experienced at the club. I bloated like a tick to distract from locusts of thoughts that could not shut up with their commotion.
I had been sleeping around more than before. My brain was Christmas tree lights. I accelerated on a generator—I made a mixed episode worse.
Tease a disaster when you are heightened like a blimp. Full of hydrogen. Hoping to burn up ad rain down like napalm.
When the pretty candles on the Christmas tree are left untouched—not looked at like a kettle on burner that has been forgotten—the dry neglected tree will into a house fire.
I’ve had four attempts in my life so far.
When I attempt I don’t cry for help. I feel too vulnerable. I’m afraid.
Hate police and wards.
Downing pills.
My past failed attempts made me aware of everything done wrong before. The sleeping pills alone might not do what I was looking for at that time. I bought an electrical cable. This way if it failed I would still be unconscious and choked out by the cord—fail safe plan to end my life.
The words coming out of my mouth slowed down. I started getting second thoughts. Stuck my face towards the toilet bowl while on my knees. Sticking my fingers down my throat. Leaving blood vessels bursting in my eyes.
Went stumbling outside and waved a taxi down and asked to be taken to the local hospital.
Never expected finding myself checked into a psych ward in a foreign country.
Nietzsche has a quote in reference to chaos in life and how it is needed to create a star—this reference holds so much value to me. Sometimes stars hit together just right to create fate out of the worst of things. The ward lead me to meet the woman made of paper. She would one day become my wife. I would have two daughters with her. Forge together as soldiers to face the obstacles in life. Someone who would save my life during a future attempt when I was found unconscious from an overdose. The smartest and toughest woman I have ever known. Someone to build trenches with.
I liked it when she stuck that needle in me for an IV. It must correlate to being a heroin addict. The pushing of something in my vein correlates to happiness and purity.
The woman made out of paper was my nurse in the ward I was stuck in. What attracted her to the mess that is me I will never understand fully.
The woman made out of paper is named Lilu. She was one year older than me and one of my nurses at that ward in Taiyuan. She was from Zhengzhou—a city in the province of Henan that is based in the center of China. I am sure as the reader it would be nice to know why I call her the woman made of paper.
She struggled with her own demons. She also deserves much praise for her resilience and brains. When she was born she was raised by a family that adopted her and often neglected and abused her growing up. Her biological family is distant from her, even though she has an identical twin—they felt too poor to take care of her and made the choice that they needed to be less of one child as she also has an older sister—her twin got to stay with that family but she was given up and adopted. I am sure this must bother her even if she never will talk about it to anyone in her life—as she is one to refuse ever discussing emotions and feelings, as this is not her personality type—she is very much a fighter. I think most would struggle with wondering why they were the one let go of—it also must hurt her knowing that the family would have a son and keep him.
Despite all these circumstances, she graduated top of her class of four thousand students—Chinese high schools can be quite large serving a large region—they often serve as boarding schools. She was a smart and hardworking student. Circumstances never made her stop trying to be the best and moving forward and she never made excuses for herself. In university she also did well and got accepted at the most studious and hard to obtain nursing position at the number one hospital in Shanxi.
I have already ranted and gone on about my affection and feelings tied to heroin. Drinking of entire oceans to fill voids.
Paper is a void. It asks for calligraphy to be written on it to make braille. This way when fingers run over skin to tell its worth—the reason for its troubles on display—it forms connection through those words of declaration—the whining for why things are the way they are—the filling of a void like a heroin addict needing a cure to cure kicking legs—two papers come together to write upon one another—as a paper I am her typo—I stand as a falling mess with nerves like tripwire, I keep failing and losing my composer, while she stands stronger as a declaration that has been written on me, my very own typewriter—when I was chased I listened to her and joined as one. I wish and intend to always serve the woman made out of paper who has saved my life and has always been there for me, being so strong despite circumstances—amongst the wind of turmoil in life I follow along her path like a sail.
It was love at first sight for her but not for me. I had no interest in dating her at the time. I worked across the street of that hospital in an office building for a training center as a part time job. I would teach adults English who paid for private lessons near to Yingze park in the center of Taiyuan. She signed up for classes for me to teach her and brought me food on almost every other day that she had prepared. Eventually we found ourselves coupled fully.
As paper we write on each other—eat each other.

Hello my name is Jennifer and I work with my classmate Kristy to provide a FREE cleanings at Pima Medical hygiene program in NORTHGATE if anyone who hasn’t had a cleaning in years or has no access to health care would like a free cleaning on and exam on Monday please message me! You will be seen by a hygienist and dentist at our school and we can help take care of cavities 🦷

~Rayray~
It felt frustrating in Chongqing. I was rather stuck in Hechuan. I got accustomed to lajiao (spice) there. I was a Midwesterner at the age of 22. I was raised in Illinois. I became a manic—a Ferris wheel on fire—I was hiding under a bed in a hotel. Bold like napalm. Sometimes I can never stop. Even when I was 18 in a ward arguing with staff. Always want to fight things. That’s why I refused the meds and went on a plane from America to China. I was going to be an English teacher. And like a light switch, the change and SSRIs turned me into a mess. It would be my first time experiencing psychosis. My biggest issue. I never imagined I would be stuck illegally in a country suffering a psychotic episode in my early twenties.
Transplanted as pollen. I was left with a backpack and a cellphone. With a downloaded app called WeChat. I had arrogantly quit a university job in a fit. Spent the past months full of energy and not sleeping and neglecting myself, including not eating, to work on a novel. Not considering myself normally religious, I had obsessed over occult ideas during that time. Spending nights reading Aleister Crowley—haven taken a rusty pocket knife to carve a pentagram on my chest for spiritual protection.
I did not have funds to fly home. My visa was connected to my previous job, which meant I had now made it void. I was an illegal resident now in China.
I used a nifty app called WeChat as a messaging app, it allows users to find people near them that are also looking for others. It was like a virtual pond. All kinds of people, including sex workers trying to make things happen.
It could with luck be used to find people looking for people in terms of other kinds of work. It was helpful on many occasions for finding gigs working at English training schools and also finding work as a private tutor for people.
WeChat also works as a digital wallet.
Mania makes me irritable. Enough to tell a boss to fuck off. Thoughts ricochet within me. Bumper cars collide.
Being stuck and angry sucks. I scrolled and scrolled on a Huawei phone.
Absolutely pissed off at this world.
Pissed at the times police wanted to take me away for being a mess.
Sometimes women get pissed. Scrolling through their phones. Angry at their cheating husbands. It really is not that hard to have flair—be a damn white oddity. Like moths to a porchlight. Particles of sand through hands. This is when I first started the habit of it…
I rather go by a rather empty name of Rayray… with further explanation needed but now is not convenient. But I assure it is interesting enough and has some importance.
Habits are various in nature in how they attach to and eat at marrow—like atom bombs flashing as rays evaporating DNA—sets in a way less than human as putting myself in the cage of bad things taken up—my time as a former heroin addict is left as stretch marks on me in various ways. The same goes for the first time I found myself making arrangements with middle aged married women while desperation of waves whiplashed me like sandpaper hands coming at me to leave me in a tiring state of abrasion.
I had spent a night snuck away into a hotel. Found someone on a business trip. Instead of registering I waited to sneak along into the hotel elevator amongst a group of others attending the hotel, as I had no card. I headed to a designated room number. Originally I was sitting in a park. Playing on WeChat and found someone in their mid-thirties. Pictures were exchanged and I said no. She brought up paying for the hotel if I arrived. I agreed and went along.
When I met I washed up after her and we used our phones to awkwardly translate what we would do.
Room service knocked. I found myself hidden under a bed as I was not registered to be there.
It seems unusual that it was around this time I had started working on a story of my life as a heroin addict when I got caught up in my worse manic episode ever experienced during my age of 22. Finished half that story before never going back to it after my manic episode had ended. Now I am here writing about it and wondering if the same can happen again in the process of this work.
It feels extremely cliché I would write a novel about struggles with heroin addiction. It has been done many times. It’s just lame of me.
I feel like my thoughts are bit off. I left the hotel the next morning with the little money I did have on a debit card. Turns out the woman was from Taiyuan. It is a city in the northern part of China in the province of Shanxi—coal country with the worst air pollution in China. She has a colleague in Taiyuan that takes courses at an English training center. I was able to contact this place in the morning via a shared contact on WeChat given to me by the stranger I met that night.
Before I knew it I was sending my information and documents in my backpack at an internet café in a fax—with the intent that the woman agreed to share my information to the training center as she shared my contact to its hiring manager. It would land me a job that day that would help me out of my situation. Things turned not quite out as I expected though. I was shifted like a ball to somebody else to contact for a training center geared to teaching children.
I took what I had and ran off to a train station after taking the public transit. Unfortunately I was shit for money and could not afford a high speed rail pass. The slow train would take thirty-two hours to get to my destination. I would have taken a room with a bed but all I could afford was a hard seat for the travel.
Things were getting better for me in the circumstance considering I had found someone willing to take me for work despite my visa situation.
The thirty-two hour train ride was horrendous in some ways, but mostly I was in excitement despite the circumstances. I’m always giddy when disappointed. I moved up and down the aisle of the train. I could not speak mandarin, but it did not stop me from trying to interact with everyone. I talked many ears off during the train ride. I went up and down the aisle trying to interact as a moth to porchlights—I could not stop even if I had wanted to. I found great enjoyment the times I did get to sit across a table from somebody my age heading to Taiyuan from Chongqing. They were a university student returning to their hometown. Another passenger who sat beside me was an elderly man with hard boiled eggs, he was eating one after another one. I highly enjoyed each and every conversation that I had. It was like my head was a lightbulb wanting June bugs to bang against it with the intensity of Roman candles shot at my mouth of nicotine tinged teeth.

“If you find someone in Shanxi it is practice to pay the family money before you can get married. You would also have to already own a home and a car,” told my new friend across in their seat from me—a university passenger friend named David.

“Not necessarily what I was looking for. When is the next stop for snacks?” When the train stops I am able to get out and to have a walk onto the platform to buy various goods from the vendors to take back with me to eat along the ride to Taiyuan.

I had all my important documents tucked in my bag. This included my health clearance and obviously I made no mention of my mental health diagnosis or history to the doctor who had to evaluate me. My diploma and TEFL certificate were tucked away securely. A TEFL is a certificate that stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language, it qualifies me to teach English as a second language abroad—it had only took a few months of taking a course online that I had paid for to obtain.
It is easy to be happy when you can trick yourself as your own con artist. Mania can make you deceive yourself. One can be doused in napalm and still not fully recognize what is actually going on. Same goes the flicking of psychosis. Even when I have nothing I find myself in my radiating irritation the most qualified of things—the velocity of my rhythm sets me out of an orbit.
The pressure cooker keeps me moving like a propeller at times. I finally arrived at Taiyuan. I arrived at the station to be greeted by Ryan my manager and his assistant Jennifer. We had our hello and introduction and they helped me get to a taxi that would bring me to my new apartment. I finally had a residence again. Apparently they were desperate for a teacher. The last teacher was from New Mexico and apparently they pulled a midnight run—that is when a teacher in the middle of the night disappears onto a plane back home without any notification of it.
The apartment was okay. On the fourth floor with no elevator, so it was a bit of a climb up a dark stairwell not lit correctly.
My job was a training center that had a location near Yingze Park in the center of the city. I was to be paid in cash via envelopes. I would assist in teaching kindergarten all the way up to high school aged students there in private lessons paid by their parents. I would also be assigned by my company to various primary schools in the city. I would take public buses to various schools paid by the company I worked for to give English lessons as I bounced around to various classrooms and schools in the city. Often I would receive a phone call to avoid going to work that day if my boss got inside input that officials would be doing raids to check foreigners’ visas that day.

A taxi ride would always be a thrill. Caused me nerves at first, but I came to love the flying in dangerous ways along a busy road. I remember a driver beeping their horn away as they drove onto the sidewalk to pass people. They treated the pedestrians as if they were in the wrong. I came flying in front of a primary school at its front gates. I was going to start teaching a first grade classroom and a kindergarten classroom. The way schools are set up is with a wall around the entirety of the exterior of the school. There is a gate at the front where one or two security will be waiting to let people in and out of the complex of the school.

I walked in front of the gate to greet the security. It was my first time with an assignment at this school. The guard said they had never seen me before and wouldn’t let me in. Not a big nuisance while I called my boss who then called the school to sort out the situation.

I miss the classroom so much. I ended up teaching in China for five years at various training schools. After returning to Illinois, I still taught as a primary school teacher in a public school.

I often feel extremely ugly from inside to my outside, but something is attractive there. This does not come just in terms of flirting and relationships—mania makes me a genuine lightbulb that flickers in a way that encourages the insects to me—everyone looks like a June bug—this is what I have come to understand about life. But that ugly does kind of stay like rot in a cavity that leaves a bad taste in the mouth that smells foul—hoping nobody catches the smell near me—it must tie into my struggles with bulimia over the years.

The same goes for my years as a teacher—in relation to the whole lightbulb phenomenon—I’m positive it is tied to mania and hypomania. The younger students always were fixated on the information I was teaching to them. I kept over the years methods taught to me and self-taught that I found extremely effective with younger students when it comes to teaching.
Everything was physical in learning in terms of intensity and ambition. When teaching my first grade classroom I would create flashcards for the vocab we would work on and implement in creating new sentences with. We would chant these words together in a way that made me a clown while teaching. Students would yell out the word that I presented with intense enthusiasm. As I walked by students it was expected that while they yelled out the word they would also physically hit the card. Later I would also work on physical gestures and acting out of vocab words and they would follow the actions and phrases with me.
I would often eventually turn the class into two teams. When students got an answer right I would behave comically and full of energy—I would give them a high five and pretend they were so strong with it that it hurt my hand in the process with much exaggeration—the students always seemed to never get tired of this act.
One game I would play involved drawing two stick figures with happy faces on them. Each figure would represent one of the teams for the classroom. I would draw a hungry alligator under the figures. Their faces would also be comical in appearance and full of exaggerations. Each figure had a parachute placed over them and four strings attached. During the game the students would race to say the word correctly represented on the flashcard or the correct word for the gesture I was making. The team that was not the slowest would lose a string on the parachute. If a team lost all four strings they would fall to the alligator who would eat them. The students found it hilarious with my actions involved in it. I would also draw tears and a person praying to represent anticipation and worry of falling down each time they lost a string.
I had a tooth game too. I would draw too large faces for each team. The team that could answer the flashcards and gestures the quickest would have a tooth drawn in their mouth. The team with the most teeth would win and it would look rather funny as the mouth grew and grew with an abnormal and extreme amount of teeth.
I often did other physical and interactive games like having students run to the word I showed a card to or gestured—each word would be attached to a point in the classroom on a wall.
I know it sounds grandiose, but the parents always seemed to think I was great at my job.
The word vulnerable means so many things to me. That word is like the coal to form the generator that makes the guiding energy for the ethics I follow in my life—I hold very strongly to these values that have developed on how to live—I can express it more later but I greatly attach a kind of Christian value system to it, which makes sense considering I was raised in a Lutheran household and always went to church, Sunday school, and went to my courses and went through my confirmation—everyone is a bit of a mop—some pick up clean water and others dirty or a mix of it—waiting to find the people to drain them voluntarily or involuntarily. I was born vulnerable. I walk pigeon-toed and grew up tripping on my feet—I speak with a soft feminine voice. Bipolar disorder makes somebody vulnerable. There was much vulnerability in being eighteen and hospitalized involuntarily for my first manic episode—tied to a stretcher. I have almost a sense of us vs them—the vulnerable and those that harm the vulnerable—take advantage of the vulnerable—I feel this is a very much Christian in the idea of the unfortunate are more holy than the rest of the bunch—children are like that in terms of being born into a cruel existence—a cruel existence I felt at times in my life and so many do—making sure harm does not come to those in need gives the light of purpose to go bright inside like a Christmas tree in my brain—this light of happiness and warmth. I never expected I would fall in love for teaching due to the antidepressant effect provided. It would become my career for a decade. Some grow up wanting to be a teacher, I became one by accident, desperation, and being saved.
Sometimes I inflate on self-hate like a helium balloon that needs to be tied to a wrist to not float away.
In my early teens I started struggling with bulimia and image. I remember when my mother caught me in the act. I was not offered help but criticized. I was called a girl for my problems and threatened to be taken somewhere to be fixed of my confusion. I don’t identify as transgender. I identify as a man that struggles with bulimia and happens to have feminine qualities.
I attribute it to circumstances that happened to me—a justification for the pain at times—an attack on aspects of bisexuality.
After a long day of work I did what my young self often did. I went clubbing with friends. I feel like even if I hide aspects of myself such as being bisexual, people can spot it regardless. I’m extremely secretive about it and not comfortable displaying that vulnerable aspect of myself.
My friend from England went with me. He was about six years my senior. Big guy. Tall. The clubs name was Maoye.
I always enjoyed the free drinks available to foreigners—it was done to attract Chinese clients, as the idea was foreigners being there would attract people.
Amongst the hot and sweltering crowd a man grabbed ahold of me. I felt stuck. I was taken off guard. Pushed and cornered. While on me I managed to push him off. But it all serves as a reminder of the vulnerability of my life.
A nail was placed into my hand—a constant burn and reminder of that vulnerability.

Part 2
From self-hate I can also be so grandiose. I am like a Christmas tree that is lit up. Sparklers so pretty that you cannot let go of them, even if it burns your fingertips and hurts.

From heroin to sex, you can smother the pain. You drain the ocean to fill a void in these times. It ties to mania as well. That restlessness and irritability is extinguished by the paradox of throwing kerosene to everything burning. I’m so grandiose to hide my insecurities, I mistake my misfortune as a mark of something ugly virtuous—the neon of vulnerability pulsating like a star within me. Swelling on a pain.

Bad habits. I want you to judge me and tell me what’s wrong with me. Give me a verdict.
Stress a trigger for mania, and I was stressed from the incident I had experienced at the club. I bloated like a tick to distract from locusts of thoughts that could not shut up with their commotion.
I had been sleeping around more than before. My brain was Christmas tree lights. I accelerated on a generator—I made a mixed episode worse.
Tease a disaster when you are heightened like a blimp. Full of hydrogen. Hoping to burn up ad rain down like napalm.
When the pretty candles on the Christmas tree are left untouched—not looked at like a kettle on burner that has been forgotten—the dry neglected tree will into a house fire.
I’ve had four attempts in my life so far.
When I attempt I don’t cry for help. I feel too vulnerable. I’m afraid.
Hate police and wards.
Downing pills.
My past failed attempts made me aware of everything done wrong before. The sleeping pills alone might not do what I was looking for at that time. I bought an electrical cable. This way if it failed I would still be unconscious and choked out by the cord—fail safe plan to end my life.
The words coming out of my mouth slowed down. I started getting second thoughts. Stuck my face towards the toilet bowl while on my knees. Sticking my fingers down my throat. Leaving blood vessels bursting in my eyes.
Went stumbling outside and waved a taxi down and asked to be taken to the local hospital.
Never expected finding myself checked into a psych ward in a foreign country.
Nietzsche has a quote in reference to chaos in life and how it is needed to create a star—this reference holds so much value to me. Sometimes stars hit together just right to create fate out of the worst of things. The ward lead me to meet the woman made of paper. She would one day become my wife. I would have two daughters with her. Forge together as soldiers to face the obstacles in life. Someone who would save my life during a future attempt when I was found unconscious from an overdose. The smartest and toughest woman I have ever known. Someone to build trenches with.
I liked it when she stuck that needle in me for an IV. It must correlate to being a heroin addict. The pushing of something in my vein correlates to happiness and purity.
The woman made out of paper was my nurse in the ward I was stuck in. What attracted her to the mess that is me I will never understand fully.
The woman made out of paper is named Lilu. She was one year older than me and one of my nurses at that ward in Taiyuan. She was from Zhengzhou—a city in the province of Henan that is based in the center of China. I am sure as the reader it would be nice to know why I call her the woman made of paper.
She struggled with her own demons. She also deserves much praise for her resilience and brains. When she was born she was raised by a family that adopted her and often neglected and abused her growing up. Her biological family is distant from her, even though she has an identical twin—they felt too poor to take care of her and made the choice that they needed to be less of one child as she also has an older sister—her twin got to stay with that family but she was given up and adopted. I am sure this must bother her even if she never will talk about it to anyone in her life—as she is one to refuse ever discussing emotions and feelings, as this is not her personality type—she is very much a fighter. I think most would struggle with wondering why they were the one let go of—it also must hurt her knowing that the family would have a son and keep him.
Despite all these circumstances, she graduated top of her class of four thousand students—Chinese high schools can be quite large serving a large region—they often serve as boarding schools. She was a smart and hardworking student. Circumstances never made her stop trying to be the best and moving forward and she never made excuses for herself. In university she also did well and got accepted at the most studious and hard to obtain nursing position at the number one hospital in Shanxi.
I have already ranted and gone on about my affection and feelings tied to heroin. Drinking of entire oceans to fill voids.
Paper is a void. It asks for calligraphy to be written on it to make braille. This way when fingers run over skin to tell its worth—the reason for its troubles on display—it forms connection through those words of declaration—the whining for why things are the way they are—the filling of a void like a heroin addict needing a cure to cure kicking legs—two papers come together to write upon one another—as a paper I am her typo—I stand as a falling mess with nerves like tripwire, I keep failing and losing my composer, while she stands stronger as a declaration that has been written on me, my very own typewriter—when I was chased I listened to her and joined as one. I wish and intend to always serve the woman made out of paper who has saved my life and has always been there for me, being so strong despite circumstances—amongst the wind of turmoil in life I follow along her path like a sail.
It was love at first sight for her but not for me. I had no interest in dating her at the time. I worked across the street of that hospital in an office building for a training center as a part time job. I would teach adults English who paid for private lessons near to Yingze park in the center of Taiyuan. She signed up for classes for me to teach her and brought me food on almost every other day that she had prepared. Eventually we found ourselves coupled fully.
As paper we write on each other—eat each other.

~Rayray~
It felt frustrating in Chongqing. I was rather stuck in Hechuan. I got accustomed to lajiao (spice) there. I was a Midwesterner at the age of 22. I was raised in Illinois. I became a manic—a Ferris wheel on fire—I was hiding under a bed in a hotel. Bold like napalm. Sometimes I can never stop. Even when I was 18 in a ward arguing with staff. Always want to fight things. That’s why I refused the meds and went on a plane from America to China. I was going to be an English teacher. And like a light switch, the change and SSRIs turned me into a mess. It would be my first time experiencing psychosis. My biggest issue. I never imagined I would be stuck illegally in a country suffering a psychotic episode in my early twenties.
Transplanted as pollen. I was left with a backpack and a cellphone. With a downloaded app called WeChat. I had arrogantly quit a university job in a fit. Spent the past months full of energy and not sleeping and neglecting myself, including not eating, to work on a novel. Not considering myself normally religious, I had obsessed over occult ideas during that time. Spending nights reading Aleister Crowley—haven taken a rusty pocket knife to carve a pentagram on my chest for spiritual protection.
I did not have funds to fly home. My visa was connected to my previous job, which meant I had now made it void. I was an illegal resident now in China.
I used a nifty app called WeChat as a messaging app, it allows users to find people near them that are also looking for others. It was like a virtual pond. All kinds of people, including sex workers trying to make things happen.
It could with luck be used to find people looking for people in terms of other kinds of work. It was helpful on many occasions for finding gigs working at English training schools and also finding work as a private tutor for people.
WeChat also works as a digital wallet.
Mania makes me irritable. Enough to tell a boss to fuck off. Thoughts ricochet within me. Bumper cars collide.
Being stuck and angry sucks. I scrolled and scrolled on a Huawei phone.
Absolutely pissed off at this world.
Pissed at the times police wanted to take me away for being a mess.
Sometimes women get pissed. Scrolling through their phones. Angry at their cheating husbands. It really is not that hard to have flair—be a damn white oddity. Like moths to a porchlight. Particles of sand through hands. This is when I first started the habit of it…
I rather go by a rather empty name of Rayray… with further explanation needed but now is not convenient. But I assure it is interesting enough and has some importance.
Habits are various in nature in how they attach to and eat at marrow—like atom bombs flashing as rays evaporating DNA—sets in a way less than human as putting myself in the cage of bad things taken up—my time as a former heroin addict is left as stretch marks on me in various ways. The same goes for the first time I found myself making arrangements with middle aged married women while desperation of waves whiplashed me like sandpaper hands coming at me to leave me in a tiring state of abrasion.
I had spent a night snuck away into a hotel. Found someone on a business trip. Instead of registering I waited to sneak along into the hotel elevator amongst a group of others attending the hotel, as I had no card. I headed to a designated room number. Originally I was sitting in a park. Playing on WeChat and found someone in their mid-thirties. Pictures were exchanged and I said no. She brought up paying for the hotel if I arrived. I agreed and went along.
When I met I washed up after her and we used our phones to awkwardly translate what we would do.
Room service knocked. I found myself hidden under a bed as I was not registered to be there.
It seems unusual that it was around this time I had started working on a story of my life as a heroin addict when I got caught up in my worse manic episode ever experienced during my age of 22. Finished half that story before never going back to it after my manic episode had ended. Now I am here writing about it and wondering if the same can happen again in the process of this work.
It feels extremely cliché I would write a novel about struggles with heroin addiction. It has been done many times. It’s just lame of me.
I feel like my thoughts are bit off. I left the hotel the next morning with the little money I did have on a debit card. Turns out the woman was from Taiyuan. It is a city in the northern part of China in the province of Shanxi—coal country with the worst air pollution in China. She has a colleague in Taiyuan that takes courses at an English training center. I was able to contact this place in the morning via a shared contact on WeChat given to me by the stranger I met that night.
Before I knew it I was sending my information and documents in my backpack at an internet café in a fax—with the intent that the woman agreed to share my information to the training center as she shared my contact to its hiring manager. It would land me a job that day that would help me out of my situation. Things turned not quite out as I expected though. I was shifted like a ball to somebody else to contact for a training center geared to teaching children.
I took what I had and ran off to a train station after taking the public transit. Unfortunately I was shit for money and could not afford a high speed rail pass. The slow train would take thirty-two hours to get to my destination. I would have taken a room with a bed but all I could afford was a hard seat for the travel.
Things were getting better for me in the circumstance considering I had found someone willing to take me for work despite my visa situation.
The thirty-two hour train ride was horrendous in some ways, but mostly I was in excitement despite the circumstances. I’m always giddy when disappointed. I moved up and down the aisle of the train. I could not speak mandarin, but it did not stop me from trying to interact with everyone. I talked many ears off during the train ride. I went up and down the aisle trying to interact as a moth to porchlights—I could not stop even if I had wanted to. I found great enjoyment the times I did get to sit across a table from somebody my age heading to Taiyuan from Chongqing. They were a university student returning to their hometown. Another passenger who sat beside me was an elderly man with hard boiled eggs, he was eating one after another one. I highly enjoyed each and every conversation that I had. It was like my head was a lightbulb wanting June bugs to bang against it with the intensity of Roman candles shot at my mouth of nicotine tinged teeth.

“If you find someone in Shanxi it is practice to pay the family money before you can get married. You would also have to already own a home and a car,” told my new friend across in their seat from me—a university passenger friend named David.

“Not necessarily what I was looking for. When is the next stop for snacks?” When the train stops I am able to get out and to have a walk onto the platform to buy various goods from the vendors to take back with me to eat along the ride to Taiyuan.

I had all my important documents tucked in my bag. This included my health clearance and obviously I made no mention of my mental health diagnosis or history to the doctor who had to evaluate me. My diploma and TEFL certificate were tucked away securely. A TEFL is a certificate that stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language, it qualifies me to teach English as a second language abroad—it had only took a few months of taking a course online that I had paid for to obtain.
It is easy to be happy when you can trick yourself as your own con artist. Mania can make you deceive yourself. One can be doused in napalm and still not fully recognize what is actually going on. Same goes the flicking of psychosis. Even when I have nothing I find myself in my radiating irritation the most qualified of things—the velocity of my rhythm sets me out of an orbit.
The pressure cooker keeps me moving like a propeller at times. I finally arrived at Taiyuan. I arrived at the station to be greeted by Ryan my manager and his assistant Jennifer. We had our hello and introduction and they helped me get to a taxi that would bring me to my new apartment. I finally had a residence again. Apparently they were desperate for a teacher. The last teacher was from New Mexico and apparently they pulled a midnight run—that is when a teacher in the middle of the night disappears onto a plane back home without any notification of it.
The apartment was okay. On the fourth floor with no elevator, so it was a bit of a climb up a dark stairwell not lit correctly.
My job was a training center that had a location near Yingze Park in the center of the city. I was to be paid in cash via envelopes. I would assist in teaching kindergarten all the way up to high school aged students there in private lessons paid by their parents. I would also be assigned by my company to various primary schools in the city. I would take public buses to various schools paid by the company I worked for to give English lessons as I bounced around to various classrooms and schools in the city. Often I would receive a phone call to avoid going to work that day if my boss got inside input that officials would be doing raids to check foreigners’ visas that day.

A taxi ride would always be a thrill. Caused me nerves at first, but I came to love the flying in dangerous ways along a busy road. I remember a driver beeping their horn away as they drove onto the sidewalk to pass people. They treated the pedestrians as if they were in the wrong. I came flying in front of a primary school at its front gates. I was going to start teaching a first grade classroom and a kindergarten classroom. The way schools are set up is with a wall around the entirety of the exterior of the school. There is a gate at the front where one or two security will be waiting to let people in and out of the complex of the school.

I walked in front of the gate to greet the security. It was my first time with an assignment at this school. The guard said they had never seen me before and wouldn’t let me in. Not a big nuisance while I called my boss who then called the school to sort out the situation.

I miss the classroom so much. I ended up teaching in China for five years at various training schools. After returning to Illinois, I still taught as a primary school teacher in a public school.

I often feel extremely ugly from inside to my outside, but something is attractive there. This does not come just in terms of flirting and relationships—mania makes me a genuine lightbulb that flickers in a way that encourages the insects to me—everyone looks like a June bug—this is what I have come to understand about life. But that ugly does kind of stay like rot in a cavity that leaves a bad taste in the mouth that smells foul—hoping nobody catches the smell near me—it must tie into my struggles with bulimia over the years.

The same goes for my years as a teacher—in relation to the whole lightbulb phenomenon—I’m positive it is tied to mania and hypomania. The younger students always were fixated on the information I was teaching to them. I kept over the years methods taught to me and self-taught that I found extremely effective with younger students when it comes to teaching.
Everything was physical in learning in terms of intensity and ambition. When teaching my first grade classroom I would create flashcards for the vocab we would work on and implement in creating new sentences with. We would chant these words together in a way that made me a clown while teaching. Students would yell out the word that I presented with intense enthusiasm. As I walked by students it was expected that while they yelled out the word they would also physically hit the card. Later I would also work on physical gestures and acting out of vocab words and they would follow the actions and phrases with me.
I would often eventually turn the class into two teams. When students got an answer right I would behave comically and full of energy—I would give them a high five and pretend they were so strong with it that it hurt my hand in the process with much exaggeration—the students always seemed to never get tired of this act.
One game I would play involved drawing two stick figures with happy faces on them. Each figure would represent one of the teams for the classroom. I would draw a hungry alligator under the figures. Their faces would also be comical in appearance and full of exaggerations. Each figure had a parachute placed over them and four strings attached. During the game the students would race to say the word correctly represented on the flashcard or the correct word for the gesture I was making. The team that was not the slowest would lose a string on the parachute. If a team lost all four strings they would fall to the alligator who would eat them. The students found it hilarious with my actions involved in it. I would also draw tears and a person praying to represent anticipation and worry of falling down each time they lost a string.
I had a tooth game too. I would draw too large faces for each team. The team that could answer the flashcards and gestures the quickest would have a tooth drawn in their mouth. The team with the most teeth would win and it would look rather funny as the mouth grew and grew with an abnormal and extreme amount of teeth.
I often did other physical and interactive games like having students run to the word I showed a card to or gestured—each word would be attached to a point in the classroom on a wall.
I know it sounds grandiose, but the parents always seemed to think I was great at my job.
The word vulnerable means so many things to me. That word is like the coal to form the generator that makes the guiding energy for the ethics I follow in my life—I hold very strongly to these values that have developed on how to live—I can express it more later but I greatly attach a kind of Christian value system to it, which makes sense considering I was raised in a Lutheran household and always went to church, Sunday school, and went to my courses and went through my confirmation—everyone is a bit of a mop—some pick up clean water and others dirty or a mix of it—waiting to find the people to drain them voluntarily or involuntarily. I was born vulnerable. I walk pigeon-toed and grew up tripping on my feet—I speak with a soft feminine voice. Bipolar disorder makes somebody vulnerable. There was much vulnerability in being eighteen and hospitalized involuntarily for my first manic episode—tied to a stretcher. I have almost a sense of us vs them—the vulnerable and those that harm the vulnerable—take advantage of the vulnerable—I feel this is a very much Christian in the idea of the unfortunate are more holy than the rest of the bunch—children are like that in terms of being born into a cruel existence—a cruel existence I felt at times in my life and so many do—making sure harm does not come to those in need gives the light of purpose to go bright inside like a Christmas tree in my brain—this light of happiness and warmth. I never expected I would fall in love for teaching due to the antidepressant effect provided. It would become my career for a decade. Some grow up wanting to be a teacher, I became one by accident, desperation, and being saved.
Sometimes I inflate on self-hate like a helium balloon that needs to be tied to a wrist to not float away.
In my early teens I started struggling with bulimia and image. I remember when my mother caught me in the act. I was not offered help but criticized. I was called a girl for my problems and threatened to be taken somewhere to be fixed of my confusion. I don’t identify as transgender. I identify as a man that struggles with bulimia and happens to have feminine qualities.
I attribute it to circumstances that happened to me—a justification for the pain at times—an attack on aspects of bisexuality.
After a long day of work I did what my young self often did. I went clubbing with friends. I feel like even if I hide aspects of myself such as being bisexual, people can spot it regardless. I’m extremely secretive about it and not comfortable displaying that vulnerable aspect of myself.
My friend from England went with me. He was about six years my senior. Big guy. Tall. The clubs name was Maoye.
I always enjoyed the free drinks available to foreigners—it was done to attract Chinese clients, as the idea was foreigners being there would attract people.
Amongst the hot and sweltering crowd a man grabbed ahold of me. I felt stuck. I was taken off guard. Pushed and cornered. While on me I managed to push him off. But it all serves as a reminder of the vulnerability of my life.
A nail was placed into my hand—a constant burn and reminder of that vulnerability.

Part 2
From self-hate I can also be so grandiose. I am like a Christmas tree that is lit up. Sparklers so pretty that you cannot let go of them, even if it burns your fingertips and hurts.

From heroin to sex, you can smother the pain. You drain the ocean to fill a void in these times. It ties to mania as well. That restlessness and irritability is extinguished by the paradox of throwing kerosene to everything burning. I’m so grandiose to hide my insecurities, I mistake my misfortune as a mark of something ugly virtuous—the neon of vulnerability pulsating like a star within me. Swelling on a pain.

Bad habits. I want you to judge me and tell me what’s wrong with me. Give me a verdict.
Stress a trigger for mania, and I was stressed from the incident I had experienced at the club. I bloated like a tick to distract from locusts of thoughts that could not shut up with their commotion.
I had been sleeping around more than before. My brain was Christmas tree lights. I accelerated on a generator—I made a mixed episode worse.
Tease a disaster when you are heightened like a blimp. Full of hydrogen. Hoping to burn up ad rain down like napalm.
When the pretty candles on the Christmas tree are left untouched—not looked at like a kettle on burner that has been forgotten—the dry neglected tree will into a house fire.
I’ve had four attempts in my life so far.
When I attempt I don’t cry for help. I feel too vulnerable. I’m afraid.
Hate police and wards.
Downing pills.
My past failed attempts made me aware of everything done wrong before. The sleeping pills alone might not do what I was looking for at that time. I bought an electrical cable. This way if it failed I would still be unconscious and choked out by the cord—fail safe plan to end my life.
The words coming out of my mouth slowed down. I started getting second thoughts. Stuck my face towards the toilet bowl while on my knees. Sticking my fingers down my throat. Leaving blood vessels bursting in my eyes.
Went stumbling outside and waved a taxi down and asked to be taken to the local hospital.
Never expected finding myself checked into a psych ward in a foreign country.
Nietzsche has a quote in reference to chaos in life and how it is needed to create a star—this reference holds so much value to me. Sometimes stars hit together just right to create fate out of the worst of things. The ward lead me to meet the woman made of paper. She would one day become my wife. I would have two daughters with her. Forge together as soldiers to face the obstacles in life. Someone who would save my life during a future attempt when I was found unconscious from an overdose. The smartest and toughest woman I have ever known. Someone to build trenches with.
I liked it when she stuck that needle in me for an IV. It must correlate to being a heroin addict. The pushing of something in my vein correlates to happiness and purity.
The woman made out of paper was my nurse in the ward I was stuck in. What attracted her to the mess that is me I will never understand fully.
The woman made out of paper is named Lilu. She was one year older than me and one of my nurses at that ward in Taiyuan. She was from Zhengzhou—a city in the province of Henan that is based in the center of China. I am sure as the reader it would be nice to know why I call her the woman made of paper.
She struggled with her own demons. She also deserves much praise for her resilience and brains. When she was born she was raised by a family that adopted her and often neglected and abused her growing up. Her biological family is distant from her, even though she has an identical twin—they felt too poor to take care of her and made the choice that they needed to be less of one child as she also has an older sister—her twin got to stay with that family but she was given up and adopted. I am sure this must bother her even if she never will talk about it to anyone in her life—as she is one to refuse ever discussing emotions and feelings, as this is not her personality type—she is very much a fighter. I think most would struggle with wondering why they were the one let go of—it also must hurt her knowing that the family would have a son and keep him.
Despite all these circumstances, she graduated top of her class of four thousand students—Chinese high schools can be quite large serving a large region—they often serve as boarding schools. She was a smart and hardworking student. Circumstances never made her stop trying to be the best and moving forward and she never made excuses for herself. In university she also did well and got accepted at the most studious and hard to obtain nursing position at the number one hospital in Shanxi.
I have already ranted and gone on about my affection and feelings tied to heroin. Drinking of entire oceans to fill voids.
Paper is a void. It asks for calligraphy to be written on it to make braille. This way when fingers run over skin to tell its worth—the reason for its troubles on display—it forms connection through those words of declaration—the whining for why things are the way they are—the filling of a void like a heroin addict needing a cure to cure kicking legs—two papers come together to write upon one another—as a paper I am her typo—I stand as a falling mess with nerves like tripwire, I keep failing and losing my composer, while she stands stronger as a declaration that has been written on me, my very own typewriter—when I was chased I listened to her and joined as one. I wish and intend to always serve the woman made out of paper who has saved my life and has always been there for me, being so strong despite circumstances—amongst the wind of turmoil in life I follow along her path like a sail.
It was love at first sight for her but not for me. I had no interest in dating her at the time. I worked across the street of that hospital in an office building for a training center as a part time job. I would teach adults English who paid for private lessons near to Yingze park in the center of Taiyuan. She signed up for classes for me to teach her and brought me food on almost every other day that she had prepared. Eventually we found ourselves coupled fully.
As paper we write on each other—eat each other.

Last night we attended the Houston Symphony’s semi-staged performance of Salome as part of their Strauss festival. There is another performance on Sunday and if you are local and can get a ticket, I very much recommend you do. Jennifer Holloway was a fantastic Salomé, but the orchestra was absolutely sensational and they played in a way I have not heard them do in a long time.
I don’t have the program handy and wasn’t familiar with the Jochanaan, Herod, or Herodias; the Jochanaan was often drowned out by the orchestra and I didn’t care for his voice, but Herod and Herodias were both good.
Holloway has one of the lovelier voices I’ve heard in Salomé; never screamy or guttural, we had no trouble hearing her over the orchestra (and they were not holding back AT ALL), and she brought a lot of humor and pathos to the role that seems uncommon lately.
A++ definitely recommend if you can get to it, if only for the orchestra.
The semi-staging is fine, nothing too risqué, although they do use a fake head and don’t just mime it. We took our 11 year old for his first live Strauss and he loved it.

Original post : https://www.reddit.com/AITAH/s/TTbUKVH7qW
Update 1:
https://www.reddit.com/AITAH/s/BOjFJnpUi8
I thought I give an update. Jennifer filed for divorce. She says she just can’t stand me anymore. She said she does not find me attractive anymore , and everything about me irritates her. She also cancelled the whole adoption process so I can’t adopt Emma anymore. I still care for Emma half of the time and drop her off at her grandma’s when it’s her turn ( Jennifer lives with her mom for now ). I suggested counselling but she said there is no point. I asked her if I can still be in the room when she gives birth she said no ! It stresses her out . I basically begged her but she said no. I told her to please call me when she goes in labour so I can at least take her to the hospital and watch Emma . She didn’t reply so who knows. Can she take full custody because newborn needs the mom? Will I still see Emma when divorce is finalized ? I feel so helpless and depressed. I was so excited to be a biological dad. I even told my work about my paternity leave so I can be home helping her with the baby. I was excited for Emma to be a big sister .. now she doesn’t want me near her or the baby. I really don’t know what happened. I wish she at least communicated with me .

Hi all!
so ... reading slump. (yes im in a horrible state right now and need help. book-slumps are like that horrible diseases that readers hate to get BUT do and there seems to be no way out of it.)
this thread isn't just for me though!! Drop in book suggestions in the comments that are similar to most of the books i mention here (i absolutely loved these, so any good recs?) -- anyone else who loved there can find recs too!

• A Good Girls Guide to Murder by Holly Jacskon (3 books) - MY FAV
• Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes (3 books)
• Fourth Wing by Rebeccca Yarros (2 books) - MY FAV
• One of Us is Lying by Karen Mc.Manus (3 books)
• The Cousins by Karen Mc.Manus
• The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides
• The Housemaid by Friedda Mc.Fadden (2 books)
• The Naturals by Jennifer Lynn Barnes (4 books) - MY FAV (just finished it and its already one of my bests)
• Keeper of the Lost Cities by Shannon Messanger (9 books)
• Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus by Rick Riordan (5 books each)

all of the books mentioned ABOVE are ones i loved ("not just 'liked') - the ones marked 'my fav' are those i can reread a million times and never get tired (basically, my special books)
Similar books i didn't like?
ㅤ-- Truly, Devious by Maureen Johnson (writing style) ㅤ-- Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare (writing style, plot) ㅤ-- Legendborn by Tracy Deonn (good at first, then the plot went downhill) ㅤ-- Two Can Keep a Secret by Karen Mc.Manus (too slow)
PLEASE help me out<33

Respect – A Feeling Of Admiration That You Pretend To Have For Someone Else’s Opinion
We left a discomfited Vada, Analisa, and Deahja in the prison parking lot with Mark surrounded by the vapid lackluster burlesque troupe of the Pussycat Dolls redux awash in 1950s eye makeup and 1970’s punk schoolgirl uniforms waiting for instructions. And true to stereotype, Mark snarks, “They’re kinda’ upset that the girls came but today is about me, right man”? Thank goodness for subtitles as I can’t read lips and his liquified words just dribble down his nose and surrender. Deahja, whom Mark admits is the daughter, “who real recognize real, man. She sees real in me,” asks the girls, “Are you here for the ride”? Well, hell yes. Dude is a popular guy. “What do you expect,” he queries and Analisa fires back with, “As long as you’re respectful, we’ll help. I’d like you to stay focused.” Mark’s snide smile is as tight as his braids. “You know how many times I’ve heard that? I’m good. His lips are playing with respectful phrases that will express his desire for her to lighten the fuck up so he just manages to sputter, “It’s just a lot. If you see me slipping, moving wrong, point it out, but until then . . . talking to Analisa like she’s his peer and not his elder - another sign of disrespect. “Pleeze stop, pleeze; you’re ruining today. I’m a grown man. I get it, all right,” as Mark’s shoulders slump in momentary defeat. “Keep saying what you’re saying. I’m not trying to transfer from one prison to another.” He sings the refrain, “It’s not a transfer; it’s a release.” Deahja steps in and demands an are-you-coming-or-going answer and it’s a draw as he leaves with the girls but joins them in the restaurant. He knows he’ll clash with Analisa, but he’ll “win every time.” Like eviction? He must be so much happier than the rest of us lacking critical thinking skills.
What if we were just grateful for everything we have today, Charlie Brown? (Like Bill who hid toilet paper and bacon from Mark and Sharna in Season 1). True to the adage that those who whine the loudest are usually the ones who contribute the least, Mark continues his sensitivity training when, being shown his new digs opines, “It stinks. It’s stale. It’s old. It’s not it and not where I plan to be,” the bedroom Obama bobblehead notwithstanding. He’s leaving to go enjoy himself, and if Analisa thinks that’s a problem, then “that’s the problem with thinking; sometimes, you think wrong,” he says ironically without turning that inward, and laughs in his hands as he concludes with, “You feel me"? He’s got 24 hours to tighten up his shit, but he’s young, horny, and free mistaking sawdust for glitter so he, of course, doesn’t return until the next morning with two bishes in tow who ask him if he’s worried about breaking curfew. “No, I’m the life of the party,” he breezes and dauntlessly asks Analisa if it’s cool that the girls can stay the night because there was a problem with the Airbnb. “Where will they sleep”? “Where I sleep at. In my bed. Where else”? He’s a multitasker easily juggling his focus on rebuilding his life while he’s playing playa playa from the Himalaya. “This generation is off the hook,” agree Vada and Analisa who is the dictator in this non-democratic house. “You didn’t say that over the phone,” Mark remonstrates. “But, you would’ve learned that last night if you were here,” snipes Analisa. "This is not a saloon and this is not a brothel and you’re a guest in my world.” That was the shot fired and all Mark could push back with was, “You’re buggin’ for real,” as he ushers the girls out whose parting shot is, ”Bye bye bitch,” proving that the only difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has its limits, and while I don't quite understand the girls' particular brand of stupidity, I admire their commitment to it. Next week Mark will push those limits as he tries to play Vada against Analisa. Keep rolling your eyes; maybe, you’ll find a brain back there.
That’s Enough For Today; I’m Done
Wheelchair-bound Purple Rain Cyndi lives in a town of 62 people with a statute of a foot in the town square serving as a marker to the woman without a foot’s house. She found she was diabetic during Covid and had to have an amputation. She has a dress prosthetic and two friends, Angela, who knows the roller coaster score of an addict’s life because, having battled addiction for over 20 years she knows the score, and Richard, a kind of Mr. Fix-it who introduced Cyndi to Jennifer. Jennifer, who right now looks like a second cousin to “Love After Lockup’s” Stan’s Lisa Portillo, has been in and out of prison for the past 8 years because of drugs, and true to form, wants to earn trust back to reclaim her two children. Cyndi’s “going into the unknown,” so “drink up” because Jennifer’s sober parole will be Cyndi’s as well. Cyndi needs help, but Jennifer does too, and fresh out of stir, Jennifer isn’t looking to be Cinderella scrubbing tile floors with a toothbrush. What do mean I can’t turn myself in and get the money?
I Heard You Moved; I Didn’t Know It Was To A Gated Community
Daniel and Cathy are, perhaps, destined to become as disappointed with Deven as Vada and Analisa are with Mark, though Deven seems more innocently harmless than Mr. Entitlement. Deven’s wish to spend more time with his sister, Karisa, though I thought her young children restricted his stay there, obviated poor Daniel’s flight from Texas to Colorado. But, it might have been worth it just to see Deven undress and reveal the mural of his body ranging from tats saying, Got Milk, Mos Man, and Perfection to designs displaying the techniques of fresco, mosaic, graffiti, and marouflage that made it hard to distinguish where the art stopped and his nipples began, and were immediately reminiscent of Rod Steiger’s movie, ‘The Illustrated Man” where he plays a 1930s psychotic drifter who’s after the mystery woman who covered his whole body in illustrations that foresee the distant future. It might not be that hard to foresee Deven’s future based on his past mantra of Get high, Become a super stealth Ninja, Steal shit, Run from the Cops and Get shot at because it’s fun and even Cyndi Lauper wouldn’t resent “Boys Just Wanna’ Have Fun.” So Deven gets a pass and will have to drive himself to Texas in 72 hours and we already know that he will become as overheated as his car. Top Story Tonight . . . Yes, It Really Is All Your Fault.
Communism. You Have Two Cows. The State Takes Both And Gives You Some Milk
David’s post-French Revolution idealism is so militantly grounded in secular Marxism that he might have stood with Engels and Lenin as they embraced a social revolution of proletarian internationalism. While he is, ironically, a bourgeois liberal himself, he believes in Pierre Leroux and Theodore Dezamy’s philosophy that “the proletariat is no more than a revival of antique slavery" transferring that belief to imprisonment is a legal extension of slavery. He’s gung-ho to go to a protest that night, but Aaron, who believes some prisoners belong in prison, is “pumping the brakes.” Seems the slave wants to savor pocket envy, bacon, and Base Camp 1 For the Struggle first. He clocks the 1960 motivational posters of “I Can’t Breathe,” Huey and Che and knows David has swapped out religion for activism. David is disappointed their passion for criminal justice reform doesn’t sync. He doesn’t yet realize that socialism has been making everyone equally poor since 1917 and that revolution is the circular motion of an object,

Hello everyone. So I've posted about a pig butchering scam that a family member is involved a few times in the past few weeks. While it appears that there is nothing that I can do to solve this issue aside from letting him crash and burn on his own. I can post what i know to help other to potentially avoid this scam.
So. The scammer involved in this, was found on a whatsapp chat group. She goes by the name jennifer. She claims to be chinese, works in a taiwanese investment company that is stationed in california. I seen pictures of her. and I've seen her on the video calls. She appears to be a real person. But i haven't rule out Ai programs.
She follows the common pattern that i've seen talked about with pig butchering scams. She flirts with you, trys to learn about potential problems with money you may have, then change the topic to crypto investing with the lies that it has nothing to do with her and that everything is in your power before sending you to a shady site.
Originally the site was known as Zerohashkx, It appears to have been shut down. Next it would have a secondary site name Zerohashfx. The latter being made at the same time as the first one. However it appears that it was used as a way to explain why the first site went down. The reasoning the scammer gave being that the company merge with another known as Doozero. The issue is that the Zerohashfx site would be taken down.
Currently The site is operating under the web address of m.doozero.com It poses as a crypto trading platform but the formating of the site is messy. But it seems that whoever is running this scam is attempting to clean it up to make it look more legit. Despite the claims on the site that it has been around since 2023 after being renamed, Deeper research shows that it was made four days ago as of this posting. While i can't prove that it is a scam site. I am putting in a report to the fbi or whatever law enforcement is in charge of cryptoscams.
Now for the next part. Depending on what is said. The scammer Jennifer will attempt to have you apply and use other sites as well. a number of these appear to have been either taken down or blocked by various search engines and protection programs like adblockers and anti-viruses. one example being www.mecanoman.com and some sort of package transporting job site that i don't have the name for. She will also try to convince you to let her act as a sort of financial advisor. Claiming to convert crypto you made into actual passive investments. Do not fall for this my my family member did. His pride in incomplete knowledge in what is dragging him down and trying to bring the rest of the family down with him.
Now the major warning. While it may be questionable about the legitimacy of her claims to you getting rich on crypto. Given how it is presented. Do not fall for it. Yes people do get rich from crypto, but it not something just anyone can do it.
So here is what you should be looking for if you are unsure when confronted by this scam.
One, the scammer talks about how much money they make off of crypto before shifting the topic to either all about how people make money off of crypto, or you getting into cryptotrading. This is done for two reasons.
The first is to plant a seed of interest in you the potential victim. By explaining and describing what they are earning. It is meant to peak your interest and get you considering investing into their scam.
The second reason is to try and establish themselves to you as both a trustworthy person and as a sort of teacher to help you learn. They will lie stating that it isn't a scam, that accounts are run by you. That they have insider information on what is going up and down. Don't fall for it.
Now if you do end up taking their offer. which you shouldn't. But if you do for the hope that maybe this isn't a scam and can actually help you. Here is the next few things you should be looking out for.
first is the websites/ apps that you are told to use. Now right off the bat. There should only be one website/ app being used. if you are told to use more than one program. It is a scam. While there may be a few exceptions to this rule. Generally that is a result of research into various platforms and their fees. But for just starting out. Yeah only one site as nearly all legalize and safe-ish crypto trading platforms are set up to allow users to do everything that is need to trade crypto, from setting up an account, depositing and withdrawing money, and provide up to date stats on all crypto tokens that have been verified. And lastly transferring crypto. Keep this last one in mind. it's important
the reason for using two different sites/ apps is simple. Due to how the block chain systems work in crypto. So long as you have an wallet address. You can move crypto from one wallet to another, or one site to another. From what i understand this is called a hot wallet and is require by these sites as it allows to blockchain to keep track of who has what and where it is. Similarly, much like any legalize trading site for stocks, bonds, retirement funds and whatnot. Crypto sites needs to allow you transfer your assets if you wish to use a different platform instead. Such as moving stuff from coinbase.com to crypto.com This same method is what scammers use to to get you. By you providing your wallet address from a legal crypto platform. The scammer will attempt to have you transfer money from your crypto wallet on these sites to a hidden wallet for this scam, but because you provided your wallet address. The scammer, if you refuse to send anything, can send a request to your crypto wallet asking for a transfer of funds without your permission, and depending on how the request is set up. Some of these sites can sometimes request money from your bank account to pay off the various gas fees and what remaining funds that wasn't in the wallet to begin with.
The last thing here. When told to use two different sites. Never just apply to the sites given. While one site that is given is generally a real legal website/app. Such as crypto.com or coinbase. The other site is not. When given these sites. The one thing you should always do is research. Don't just google it and be happy it shows up in the search results. Actually research it and cross check all your sources multiple times. Go on youtube, reddit, as there are channels and forms that discuss these sorts of sites and investments as their job and as a community attempting to help one another. Use scam detector websites and check the fbi scam site database. to see if its safe or if there is any investigations being done. Because you will get one of three results after heavy research.
The first resuit you might get is that the site is legit as various people on youtube, reddit, and other credible websites and information sources varify it as legit and safe to use. If this is the case, then by all means, The final choice whether to go through with it is up to you and you alone at that point. But that is only if you verify everything and can't find anything amiss.
The second result is the opposite of the first result. All credible sites and information sources flag these sites as dangerous or suspicious. Often these sites will tell you why these sites are no good. Things such as missing information or features, Incorrect or altered dates, Missing legal paperwork, or operating under a non existant company. At this point you should know that it is a scam and should just avoid both these sites and the scammer itself.
The last result you will get after heavy research is a lack of information and history. Often times these scam sites are created within a recent time frame. The scammers and the people they work with will often create a new site as often as possible whenever older sites get discovered and taken down by law enforcement. Due to this. There is generally little to no credible information if any at all. No youtube videos, no reddit post, generally nothing outside of maybe appearing in a search engine after typing it into google or yahoo or something. It should go without saying but this essentially confirms that this crypto site that the scammer posed to you as a sort of saving grace is a scam. One thing that people always look for is a way to make money fast. A site that allows you easy access to money generation is something that would be talked about in some way or form. The saying that only a few people talks about a good thing, no longer applies to real life after the creation of the internett as people share information on a vast scale. A lack of information and history shows that the site in question is fake and should be either reported to law enforcement or avoided entirely.
Never sign up for a website that you can't verify the safety and reputation of through research. Never provide your information such as ID cards and other sensitvie information to these sites. Because once you do. Even if you happen to cut ties to these people and limit your losses in the short term. Because they have your information on hand after you apply to their scam site. They can still screw you over in other ways through identity theft and fraud.
Now if you happened to believe that you are a victim of this scam or are starting to believe that what is occuring is a scam. First thing to do is confirm the situation. Cross check your experience with either this post or other people's experiences. Often you find parallels in the scam methods mention and should have a good idea of what is happening with you.
The second thing is the try withdrawing your money. If you happen to have a lot of money being displayed in your account. Withdraw it. Not a small amount like 2000 dollars, but most if not all of it. Often times these sites will transfer small amounts like 1000 to 5000 dollars to your account in order to keep the scam going in making you believe that it is fake. But if you suddenly request to make a large withdraw of say 150000 dollars out of nowhere. The scammer will not only deny your request but give you various reasons why it fail as well as trying to trick you into giving them more of your money. Be aware. These people will gaslight the hell out of you so badly to the point that god will let you into heaven out of pity from how bad these people gaslight you. Remember don't fall for it.
At this point you should know for sure that you were caught up in a scam. The first thing to do is realize and understand that whatever money you may have invested into these people is gone. There is no chance of getting it back aside from a miracle of god. It will hurt to know that you lost a lot of money. but you need to accept it is gone and work to minimize the damage.
Save whatever receipts you have. text messages, emails, pictures. everything you got from this scam. That can be used as evidence for both law enforcement to catch these scumbags and in case you need to present this evidence to IRS or whoever Uncle Sam sends to collect.
Lastly you need to cut yourself off from the scammer. Never again use the fake websites given to you. Block the scammer who originally gotten in contact with you and any following contacts they attempt to make. As I said. They will attempt to get in contact with you in any way possible in order to gaslight you into paying more. Resist the fear and stay strong. Once you cut yourself away from the problem. Report it to law enforcement or the FBI or whatever government agency that deals with cyber crimes. And simply try to live your life and rebuild whatever you can.
And finally remember your experience in this incident. Always review it so that you never fall for it again. Occasionally research scams to see what new ways scammers will attempt to get you. And if you are feeling kind and helpful. Post your experience somewhere where people can see it. So that you can help prevent others from enduring what you may have went through.

Hi, I’m looking for recommendations, I absolutely loved the acotar series with acosf being my favorite by far. I loved the enemies to lovers trope and the strong female lead. I loved the world building and really felt like I could immerse myself in the series. I definitely enjoy a good amount of spice and I like when it builds up through the series. I read TOG but didn’t love it as much, I also read from blood to ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout but I didn’t love the pacing or writing style. I really liked Nesta and Cassians characters and would really appreciate any recommendations you have!!!:)

Shrimp tells Pim to go to 153 Meep boulevaed
Charlie doesn’t correct the address number
When Pim shows up with Jennifer in the bar near the end of the episode: Charlie facepalms, says Pim effed up. Sighs that he was supposed to go to 158 Meep Boulevard because“there’s no café at 153 Meep Boulevard”.

Charlie is basically blaming Pim when Pim did nothing wrong, while also it making out like Pim’s perception sucks. He brings up how Pim needs glasses and says “he really needs to get that fixed”. In actuality Shrimp is the one who confused Pim, and Charlie didn’t fix the misdirection on time. After all, Charlie seems to have known the correct address?
So basically I think Charlie’s being kind of shitty to Pim in this instance instead of apologizing for not having spoken up in Shrimp’s room.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I have rewatched season one about five times. I have a hyperfixation. It is my comfort show.