Trash bags and women

I (19m) and my boyfriend (19m) will get in teasing arguments all the time. One thing about me is I have a strong moral compass and I really care about the environment and will go on hikes with plastic bags and gloves to pick up trash. One day me and him were driving and we pulled into the parking lot of our dorm and he had a plastic ice cream cup that was mostly empty that he threw on the ground. I didn't see it until later and I told him to pick up his trash, especially since we were going up to the dorm where there were trash cans. He refused and we started going back and forth and it was getting a bit heated as it normally does, then I picked up the trash for myself and I threw it in the truck and it got some on his seat, (note his truck is full of trash as it is). this got him really mad and just started being passive aggressive. Am I the asshole?

Lurker here - hadn't really listened to Taylor's music until Safe & Sounds came out, listened to that on repeat for 2 years, forgot about her til rep came out, forgot about her again until I fell in love with folklore. Evermore gave me hope that she had grown as a songwriter and Midnights trashed that.
Became a casual fan of her music and when she did the Eras tour opening weekend I decided to give her discography a listen. Folklore and Evermore are still peak, but because of the oversaturation of her now my husband decided to take a listen.
He hated her until I showed him the rep tour and now we enjoy her music, just not her. My husband pointed something out and he still thinks it's wild.
The hardcore Swiftie community like to harass/threaten/diss any ex Taylor has. Usually it's framed like she's the victim. Always the victim. Perpetually.
But in her songs, she admits more than once that she cheats, jumps from relationship to relationship and is a narcissist. We call her our "capitalist queen" and I've actually called out her manipulative marketing in numerous Swiftie groups. Shockingly I usually get quite a bit of support for that.
I just think the double standards that people hide behind "misogyny" is insane. My favorite lines are "she's not forcing you to buy anything" and "she's just a mastermind 🤪" when she does something as simple as matching her costumes to her album colors.
Her being a billionaire disgusts me. It's not something to be celebrated. She's wealth hoarding and not using her influence to do anything but line her pockets more. But many people think it's a win for the women that Taylor Swift is a billionaire. It's not. If Elon Musk's wealth disgusts you so should Taylor's.
....I'm still a slut for folklore/evermore though.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

This is dumb but I haven’t been able to get this interaction out of my head since it happened.
I (27F) am 8 months pregnant and I’ve been having dizzy spells when I’m on my feet for too long. At my last appointment, my husband didn’t join me because he was at home sick. (Usually, someone goes with me when I leave the house because of these dizzy spells.)
Anyway, I parked at the OB at a spot close to the door. A man and two women were getting into the SUV in the spot next to me. I tried to give them ample room but the SUV on my other side was against the line so I also didn’t want to block them. For visualization, the SUV they were getting into had been backed into their spot so my drivers door was by his.
The man starts loudly yelling about how he’s going to get in his car “one fucking way or another” as I am getting my bag together to get out. I hear him hit my door, slamming my review mirror closed, and making aggressive comments. I already wasn’t feeling well so I didn’t want to engage. The man was on the heftier side so I assumed he needed more room to get in. I rolled down my window and offered politely to reverse so he could have some more room. I did exactly that, he got in, and he sped off. Important note: I didn’t adjust my line up. I just pulled straight forward/backward.
I was shaken by the interaction and not feeling well. I had a breakdown in the OB office because of hormonal pregnant lady tears (as I call them).
When I walked out I saw my parking and realized I had been dead center in the spot (or just about). I even sent a picture to my friend asking if I was crazy or if my parking was fine.
I think I might be the AH because I saw he was a bigger guy and didn’t consider that when I parked beside him. But I also think instead of just immediately being an ass he could have knocked on my window to get my attention and asked if I could back out to give him room. Hitting my door and mirror while making aggressive comments felt unnecessary.
AITAH?

I'm looking for a women's starter set of golf clubs, however she is only 5 feet and 2 inches tall. Are the women's callaway edge clubs sold at costco going to be too tall for her? Or am I better off with a "petite" starter set from another manufacturer? I can't find any specs or club lengths for the women's callaway edge online. The kit appears to be a tremendous value as I like the callaway name, it includes an odyssey putter, as well as 4 actual irons (instead of mostly hybrids), as well as PW and SW.
There are many alternative starter sets in the same price range, offerred in petite lengths, however most seem to be lesser quality (top flite, callway's stata line, wilson, tour edge, etc.) . I already have a spare bag, so the bag is not a concern.
If she continues to play, the plan is to get her fit for a custom set after she learns to hit the ball for a few seasons.
Would you start with the womens callaway edge or a petite length starter set?

I know I put this as vent but it didn’t really bother me that much. I was fiddling with the trash bag trying to stop is from falling, and the nurse just throws a wire into the trash bag and hits me. She obviously knew I was there, left a half assed sorry, and moved on. I just ignored it.
Idk if I was too busy not trying to fuck up, but at the time it really didn’t bother me, but I was curious if you normally just let these things slide. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me but I have a hard time knowing when to let things slide and when to confront people, so I almost always let things slide.
But I don’t want the nurse to think I’ll just be her bitch because it’ll become harder for me in the long term.

Packing for a move just now.
I've got probably 200 SRPs in a zip lock baggie, loose, and another 300 in dillon primer tubes.
What's the safest way to transport these in the move? Padded up, in a box? Trash em?
The ones in the baggie moved from Texas to NM to SC with me, in the bag the whole time.....but I never gave it a second thought. Now I'm packing for SC to SD and am realizing that may not be the best idea.

I'm no writer and English is my third language. Please don't trash me or my punctuation.
Firstly, mallikajan becoming suddenly patriotic is absurd. It was almost like she had nothing in her hands and she's trying to fill the void of the fall of heeramandi. Like see, it has to be gradual atleast.
My alternate version
MALLIKAJAAN
In the scene where bibbojaan sneaks in the freedom fighters(yes, they very much were) mallikajan stares at her stoic before walking away. We find them in the next scene spoken to by phatto - satto all the things Mallika had originally said. One of the fighters embrace the other remembering the demise of the shaheed when a potli falls open from his pocket. We see jhumke and some rings which Mallika recognises and calls him out saying they are of waheeda almost accusing them of theft. Bibbo responds rather angrily " Ammi!!!" When waheeda interrupts and says she had given them the jewellery . Waheeda goes "takreeban 20 saalon me Pehli dafa jisam par se kuch utaarne par Mera rooh aitiraz nahi kiya." A little taken aback, Mallika walks away saying "Noor Haveli k chaar tijori aapke aur aapke biwi bacchon k liye khule hi."
I feel like it would still preserve her character a little and from here she could have been shown to have gone soft ( you know, with her requesting nawab's wife to talk to other nawab's for her). I know it was not pretence, but her being patriotic was a little off.
When mallikarjaan hears that bibbojaan is getting executed, she breaks down crying. Next scene is her in her room all cried out. Looks at bibbojaan's picture and mutters "meri beti...meri beti bibbo... bibbojaan.... Bibbojaan azaad." We see satto fatto and all the members gathered crying over the news mallikajaan enters , commands them not to cry as bibbo would be the first tawaif to sacrifice her life for her mother( India).
TAJDER
Tajder comes home injured and Alam questions him and he had to reveal that he was manhandled by the British while they were protesting ( he wore black muffler and wasn't recognised though). Alamzeb asks "Aap ye mulk se beintehaa mohabbat karte ho na?" And tajder chuckles and says " jaise aap apne shayari se" and alamzeb goes "shayari ko ham hamara fitoor maante hi par aap mitti ko apna farz. As she wipes his injuries she asks in a soft tone " nibhate hue kese lagta hi?". " Filhaal..... Jaise ek zakhmi maa ko unka beta marham na de paraha" says tajder teary eyed. So maybe here a montage of atrocities of British he has witnessed could be shown as he explains alamzeb why he he'd become anti British. By this the freedom factor is a little more emphasized rather than it being abrupt , also, it invokes patriotism in alamzeb.
ALAMZEB
Alamzeb literally gave it away saying that sher infront of general Cartwright, he very much speaks hindi 🤦‍♀️.
In the alternative version alam while being taken into the jail screams "inqilab zindabad" and tajder is shown to be secretly Proud. Tajder looks at her fondly while she shouts naare and her parwana sher gets played simultaneously.
And in another scene a little after Alam's realise mallikajaan says to alam: "Heeramandi ki shehzadi ho tum. Yaha ki mehek sirf eethar ki hi, na sihayi ki na hi lahoon ki ."
Alamzeb says to herself, "Hamara pyaar(tajder) ka manchaaha eethar tho ghili mitti hi ammi. Is zaameen ki mehek mehfooz rakhenge, apni lahoo se mitti nam karke hi sahi."
(Tajder says he loves ghili mitti just before it rains in the mango farm.)
FAREEDAN
Fareedan's change was rather abrupt. It's just not too convincing.
ALTERNATE VERSION

 Cartwright tells fareedan how mallikjaan had her stoop so low infront of everyone in the police station. Fareedan laughs hard and asks him what has he done. Cartwright explains what happened and when he turns around fareedan looks rather quiet unable to figure out how to feel about it. When Cartwright asks her what happened she says the dialogue she originally does. Cartwright asks her to be happy for him and his boys as they wouldn't get an opportunity like this in England cause a true lady would never sleep with five me. He proceeds to say this only happened because she's an Indian wh*re. This strucks her, she quietly leaves his house placing his gift, that gown on the table. At night during the fountain scene fareedan overhears everything from her window and sheds a tear. Fareedan witnesses Cartwright killing tajder deliberately. She runs and tells that to alam who is still in shock and is repeatedly saying she needs to see dadi. Fareedan takes her to dadi and while is upstairs Cartwright visits Tajder's father who is confronting him. Fareedan walking down the staircase says how she witnessed his death and it was Cartwright who killed his son. Cartwright says that he doesn't know her and if at all she had ever been in a police station it would be because of crimes she committed and he names few off her records intimating that he knows about her past. Fareedan feeling deceived and disrespected she is not afraid of what is going to happen to her and that Tajder's father deserves to know the truth. She tells him how she witnessed him killing his son. Cartwright interrupts and says she is afterall a tawaif and he shouldn't listen to her words. Fareedan says that she's tawaif indeed but she had a mother who take care of her all night when she was sick. She can only imagine what Tajder's father is going through and that he deserves to know the truth. She says he isn't her father or a relative but you don't need a blood relation in this mulk. She calls him khalujaan and asks him to believe her. Tajder's father walks away from her and asks Cartwright to try finding out who the attackers were and walks away indicating that he believes Cartwright and not her. Cartwright mockingly says to her that true Indians only believe the ones who are working for their welfare, the british. Fardeen walks out hurt and disappointed. 

These two incidents can makes fareedan's change more gradual.
CARTWRIGHT
I don't understand why Cartwright would want to sleep with Alam when his sister literally murdered his higher authority and is about to get killed by them. Moreover, he killed Alam's fiance. He has grave threat from Alam.
Alternate version:-

 CARTWRIGHT visits heeramandi's silent corridors and mocks mallikajaan. 

He proceeds to say had she been on his side it would have saved her from many troubles. Alam interrupts and says that she's the next huzoor of heeramandi, the next tawaif. She'd do her first dance, her first nath uthrai for him in return of him not causing the members of heeramandi any further troubles. Cartwright interrupts her and says he wants her nath uthrai not in their fort but in his bedroom. Mallika interrupts reminding how the ritual goes. Alam stares at Cartwright before agreeing. In the later scene she performs infront of him and in the end gets on the top of him stabs him to death in sync with the beat of the music and leaves his house.
THE CLIMAX

 Mallikajaan marches towards the police station with everyone to support bibbojaan. Iqbal riding cart nexts to her stops her suddenly with a talvar reluctantly and says she doesn't deserve a last time with her daughter like he was never given one with saima. Satto fatto shocked asks what he's doing. He cries and wipes his tears and backs away. Mallikajaan looks at fareedan who looks concerned for her. She walks right into the talvar to everyone's horror. Satto fatto and everyone tries to come near her but she asks them to go. Fareedan asks Mallika to come with them and says that bibbojaan will need her mother, she needs to treat herself and that ammi ki zarurat hothi hi. Mallika says her daughter will live kuch pal too without her like she( fareedan) did all these years. She insists on them leaving and being there for bibbojaan. They all March towards the execution place. Bibbojaan is given a last chance to reveal the other members of her group. She is hit with whiplash when she starts singing with all the women from heeramandi behind the walls chorusing with her. Simultaneously mallikajaan is shown dancing while bleeding in a silent , windy and deserted street singing to herself. She pats her feet covered in mud on the ground like she's dancing in her fort, does gajgamini walk manically laughing. Bibbojaan doesn't reveal the names so the officer intimates to kill her. On the other hand mallikajaan is dancing while bleeding with dirt and blood on her face. Tired She falls on her knees. She hears footsteps approaching her running. She sees zoravar (her son) with his hand streched out running towards her calling her ammi. Bullets are shot at bibbojaan simultaneously. Mallikajaan picks up the sword next to her and tears open her blouse from the back and falls on the ground. Zorawar stops and turns away his head. Mallika is seen smiling slowly closing her eyes (preserving her nature of vengeance). Bibbojaan is shown to lay on ground slowly finishing the last word of the song. Her eyes wide open, she loses her life. The narration says bibbojaan has inspired all the beti's of heeramandi to take part in freeing their country. They March and roit religiously from then on to get freedom to this country as no one understands the value of freedom better than the ones who's soul is not even theirs. 

I don't know what it is about women and true crime podcasts, but it's like flies to shit with women and this trash.
Which would be fine if women didn't rot their brains thinking every random man COULD be the murderer they just heard about on that last podcast.
It's really no different than red pillers that sit in an echo chamber that tells them all women are hypergamous whores that will take everything the second a hotter guy shows them any attention.
WE all know this is bullshit, but, just like brain rotten true crime junkies and red pillers alike, you can't reason with these people.
You are not safer in the woods with a bear and every woman isn't going to divorce you and steal all of your money.

So a couple of days this happened and I shared it on one of my private women’s groups. And the ladies asked to share it with more people. So here goes. I was flying home from one event. I was given a seat in second row of the plane and as I sat in that place I got this weird feeling as if God put me in that particular place for some reason. At first I thought maybe I will get a reward of being alone in the row of seats so I can sleep more comfortably, but as the last people came in someone sat next to me and I realised I was wrong. A man with his wife or girlfriend came up to the first row and asked the stewardess if they could use the WC before liftoff. The stewardess said it would be fine, but they would have to wait until all other passangers have boarded. As they were waiting for the toilet, they realized that the places in first row are free and so they asked, if they could use them (because, as I understood, they wanted to sit together, but they got separate places). Stewardess responded that these seats are 20 euro more expensive and they decided to buy them. As I was listening in the conversation, it was obvious from the way he spoke, that this man was an intelligent person. When he sat in this place, he peaked into the pilot’s cabin and said loudly and with a surprise in his voice to the stewardess “will the pilot be a woman today?” (I expected him to praise her, but the next sentence rapidly changed my perception of this man…) “Is this even safe?” I was shocked. I saw the stewardess made herself smaller and said “she is a very experienced pilot”. Then he asked “Very experienced? How old is she? She looks really young… Or maybe she’s like 40?” Now at this point I wanted to scream. But what actually came out of me was a snicker with a headshake. The man that sat beside me asked, what this other guy said that made me react this way, I explained and saw a supporting look in his eyes. After the conversation between the guy and stewardess ended, I observed her as she had to do the security dance that they always do before the flight. As I have quite an extensive flying experience, I don’t usually take time to watch this safety instruction, but this time I was observing very attentively. Her body was doing the moves and on her face you could very clearly see pain: the type of pain that you have when you want to cry, but you can’t allow yourself to do it. When the plane lifted, I fell asleep. I woke up an hour later and I received this clear message that I had to pass on to the pilot. At this moment I was extremely happy I bought a pen as I was thinking I would write some song lyrics, while waiting for the plane – I didn’t write much, but now I knew why I needed that pen. I found a small part of the paper that was not full of random lyrics of mine and prepared it for the message. I was very worried to make a mistake on the only small piece of paper I had, so I practiced what I wanted to write next to my lyrics before I actually wrote it out on the page, so this is why I still have the actual text I wrote. “Hi, I wanted to express, how sorry I am that you have to experience ignorant comments from misogynist men for choosing to be a pilot. I believe by following your passion you uplift & inspire women & especially girls that get to experience flying with you. Some weak male egos get threatened by this, but this is a very needed process for the change that is occurring in the collective in finding more balance after a long history of patriarchy. On behalf of all the little girls of this world Thank you.” As the crew started preparing for landing, I stopped the stewardess that I saw was really affected by that situation and I said „This is not trash. This is a message for you and for the pilot. Read it first and if you feel like it, share it with her too.“ The stewardess thanked me and then read the message. She looked at me with a very warm smile and said she will definitely give it to the pilot. She then pulled back the little curtain they have in their area and invited two other stewardesses that were on the flight for a chat. I saw them reading the paper, then I saw her pointing to the guy (presumably explaining the context for my message). All three of them then looked at me and smiled warmly. But then I started having thoughts that I should say something to this guy as well. And the first thoughts that I had weren‘t very nice. Then I heard my teacher‘s voice in my head saying „Now is your chance to turn your poisons into pearls“ and I realised that I do want to draw a boundary, but with love. When the plane landed, I quickly grabbed my stuff and as I was waiting for the door to open, I was observing this guy collect his stuff. When he finished and stood up to wait, I gathered all my courage (I literally felt my feet physically tremble how afraid I actually was) and I told him: „I would like to tell you something, because I feel you now have a chance to learn and to grow. For this lady to pilot this plane, in her studies and work she had to show a degree of excellence that was way above most of her male peers. And this is because of such ignorant viewpoints like yours of some male teachers and colleagues that she must have had in her life. I truly hope that if you ever have a daughter you will not make her feel smaller the way you tried to make the pilot of our plane feel today.“ He said „you probably did not hear the end of our conversation. In the end I told her that actually probably it is true that flying with women is safer. And that all of it was a joke“. I answered „This is true, I did not hear that bit. But your joke was not funny. Because I saw their reaction. And it was not funny for me.“ I noticed a small supporting smile from the man that sat next to me during the flight. The door oppened and the guy from the first row stepped to the side to let me leave the plane first. Today absolutely by chance I saw these statistics (from the Female Quotient in fb): Women make up less than 20% of the workforce in most aviation occupations: Only 5% of pilots are women and women make up about 6% of airline CEOs. And Black female pilots make up just 1% of commercial airline pilots globally. I don‘t know what you can take from my story. But what I hope is that you allow yourselves to fly in a pursuit of your dreams whatever your dreams might be, regardless of the men that get scared so easily.
P.S. I don't use reddit much, so if you know where is a better place for this type of post, please share with me

In my city there’s sooo many queer women. Lesbians, bisexuals, pansexuals etc., I work with many, study with many and also just see women day to day who would appear to be queer based on their style or the pins on their bags or the rainbow jewellery, the coloured hair, the tattoos, the piercings and so many other things, yet most women I work/study with complain about not being approached by other queer women in real life even though they’re all around us, I don’t think relationship success is about having a certain style.
I look “straight” I have natural coloured long hair, no tattoos and minimal piercings yet I have initiated every single one of my relationships with women. Despite not “looking gay”, I will prolong eye contact with you if I like you, I’ll ask you for your name, I’ll compliment you, I’ll lightly brush your arm/touch you (in an uncreepy way if I can tell you’d be comfortable), I’ll go out of my way to be around you and try my best make sure you notice, I’ll smile and flirt with you, I’ll show that I’m interested. That’s why I’ve managed to get into relationships. Saying that, I’ve also missed out on many potential partners because despite looking super sapphic and allegedly being into me, I hadn’t received any flirty vibes of them even after showing some interest so I decided to take a step back to ensure I don’t make them feel uncomfortable.
Looking more gay isn’t going to get you into relationships if you aren’t focusing on slightly exposing your attraction or interest to potential partners. I fully believe getting into relationships would be so much easier if we focused less on how our appearance demonstrates our sexuality and more on how our actions/interactions do when we find potential partners. Any thoughts or opinions?

• I was scrolling ig and the girl wasn't nude or any sexual but her nipple head through them clothes... It's not like i purposely wanted to see it, everytime i encounter women wearing tight cloth, it just my anxiety took a glimpse whether it was nipple head appeared out or not, then i scrolled out of anxiety.
  
• a girl on tiktok was eating a bread and the white stuff dripping down, i went straight to the comment whether it was cum or not, I'm not sure.
  
• i watched key and peele there one sketch like steve Job stuff, i forgot, the pee on the girl bag... I wasn't sure the scene look like, but if u watched it, did he pulled his penis out?
  

Are these considered relapse?

When it comes to prepping, some items are absolute must-haves. Here's a rundown of the most important things to have on hand for emergencies:
Water:

• Having enough water is non-negotiable. Aim for at least one gallon per person per day, and remember, you can't survive without it for long.

Food:

• Stock up on non-perishable items that provide energy and nutrition. Canned goods, dried fruits, nuts, and protein bars are all solid choices.

First Aid Kit:

• You never know when you'll need it, so make sure your first aid kit is well-stocked with bandages, pain relievers, antiseptic wipes, and other essentials.

Shelter and Warmth:

• Staying warm and dry is crucial, especially in cold or wet conditions. A tent or tarp, sleeping bags or blankets, and emergency thermal blankets can be lifesavers.

Communication:

• Being able to stay informed and connected during emergencies is key. Invest in a battery-powered or hand-crank radio, and keep a list of important contacts and documents handy.

Lighting and Tools:

• When the power goes out, you'll need alternative sources of light and tools for basic tasks. Flashlights, lanterns, matches, and multitools should be part of your emergency kit.

Hygiene and Sanitation:

• Good hygiene practices are essential for staying healthy during emergencies. Stock up on toiletries, hand sanitizer, and trash bags for waste disposal.

Clothing and Footwear:

• Dressing appropriately for the weather and having sturdy footwear can make all the difference. Make sure you have warm clothes, rain gear, and comfortable shoes or boots.

Miscellaneous:

• Some items may not seem essential, but they can greatly improve your comfort and well-being during emergencies. Cash, important documents, maps, and entertainment items fall into this category.

Remember, it's better to be over-prepared than under-prepared when it comes to emergencies. Focus on acquiring the most important items first, and then expand your supplies as needed. With the right supplies on hand, you'll be better equipped to handle whatever challenges come your way.

Just a theory, possibly totally unrelated. But there are some new confirmable pieces and connections that I haven’t seen mentioned at all yet. So if I’m wrong at least there is a partially correct timeline here that can be edited to correctness. My last attempt to connect any dots I think. Please feel free to find holes and debunk it and suggest edits.
TLDR: Maybe the big deal is that these items were from a robbery that took place nearby days prior. There were two bags taken and articles only mention one being found. The robbers were reported to have been seen else where on CCTV counting money, so they may have been able to make a sale in the area. The same bag could have ended up at the Mark, and maybe even be the bag EP intentionally shows in hotel lobby on CCTV footage. EP said he was given a big bag to dispose of. In EP’s case the chain of custody should be legally sound, but for someone else buying or possessing stolen property prior to that, it’s illegal in NY even if you’re unaware.
The robbery occurred on 1/18/23 and was reported on 1/21/23. This is on 83rd and The Mark Hotel is on 77th. Half a mile walk through the park away. EP mentioned a big bag that hotel staff was told to dispose of.
Here is what appears to be a bag in the video EP posted. There was a girl in the frame too.
A NY post article about this murder mentions:
“A young woman — who was entering the building carrying a large bag that appeared to contain clothing - choked back tears when asked if she was related to the victim. ‘It's very, very hard for me and my family. We've already talked to the police and the district attorney. I don't want to talk anymore,’ the woman said, without identifying herself.”
The victim was SA’d. House was ransacked. “The two suspects loaded up Hernandez’s belongings into a blue rolling Jansport backpack and a green rolling bag and were on CCTV divvying up cash, prosecutors said.”.
Same day Drake is seen leaving The Mark hotel.. He is seen the next day at a listening party in New Jersey.
These were posted August 2023 by EP on his Facebook page. They look like older lady clothes. But ofc, this could just be things left behind at the hotel by others.These are the only clothes EP ever posted on his Facebook.
The victim being an upper east side woman she probably had some nice things, clothing and jewelry in particular as ladies do especially at her age. And the jewelry EP posted didn’t look new or like it would have been for a younger girl.
EP implies Drake/team only wanted one thing from a big bag and EP implies there was loads of jewelry left behind. They said the rest of the stuff in the big bag was trash. Because the items were expensive and not really just any random stuff, it was instead put into lost and found.
There’s an incident report from Mark security on July 20th. Probably when EP had to work as security with protests that Theodore organized.. EP appears to express frustration with the protestor situation for which he nearly got arrested. This was probably the next time he saw Drake since January. EP keeps mentioning 7/27/23. This is the day he was named the protestor lawsuit.
EP mentions Officer Viola had a CCRB citation for trying to contain the protest. Officer Viola and EP both impacted negatively. EP mentioned that this rapport with the officer probably saved him from getting arrested
EP is going thru it at this point. [EP cites many examples of why he takes offense for treatment of staff. And hubris. The man he almost got arrested he alleges staff isn’t being treated in a way that feels respectful He mentions he still has to give the friendly enjoy your evening. He cites cultural frustrations as well, echoing Kenny’s “not like us” sentiments.
At some point EP’s is instructed by his director to clean out the lost and found. By August he’s so fed up that he’s going to sell these things redacted lol figure it out ig. He posts them on Facebook.
Fast forward to now, and Kendrick drops a diss track. At some point, Akademiks told that EP had the items and accused theft, according to EP. or him and Drake both did not sure who he’s directing this at.
“Meet the Grahams” comes out and EP said I understood the assignment. Kenny at some point gets the album art from EP with item’s that appear to have belonged to Drake.
Drake releases “The Heart Part 6” said that he fed the cover art content to Kenny. Why would he lie about that? Why not say wow Kenny you got people going through my trash? Or is he telling the truth?
Buying stolen goods is illegal. But EP, on the other hand, obtained the items after they were disposed of, which should be legal if I understand correctly especially if unclaimed after x many days.
EP’s manager finds out about the album cover and questions him about how the items were obtained. But staff knew that EP had these items already according to EP. He was instructed to not throw them in the trash originally and then months later instructed to clean out the lost and found. EP implies that policy/practice allows him to claim the items at this point.
He claims he explains to his boss how the items were obtained. She advises him to get a lawyer which is strange because staff knew these items were in the lost and found and that by law, if they aren’t claimed within a certain amount of time they’re fair game. But if they’re stolen from a murdered scene, yeah you might want to speak to a lawyer because possession of stolen property is illegal even if you didn’t know it was stolen. It also may implicate you in a murder that took place nearby. It doesn’t make sense to me that EP’s boss would advise a lawyer when she would probably know the chain of possession and policies. It could be that it was only due to theft allegations from the album cover release but if policy and law was followed then this seems a little out of place, especially if they didn’t want the items back anyway.
EP alleges that police were called because someone got assaulted this night. I’m not sure who this is but It appears to be the same man pictured about a minute later.
EP tweeted
“Those were good men… One was from Texas. He loved cowboy boots, guns, and horses. other was from the Bronx, and well on his way to becoming a "Blue H.E.N.R.Y."
[redacted fill in the blank urself ok]
Tweets about them: Here Here Here

The pain was the worst thing`Dominick Mason had ever known…and he knew what it felt like to die. It felt like his brain was in a blender, being chopped to liquid for a Jeffery Dahmer smoothie and though it seemed melodramatic, he imagined he could feel himself losing brain cells by the minute. The sun, Merrick told him, would not burn him, but it would decay him faster, so sleep or rest during the day. With the sick, throbbing agony in the center of his brain, however, that was impossible. He spent most of the day curled up on his side, hugging his knees, and moaning. He had flashbacks to dying in his apartment, and that made things even worse. The room became too small, too close, the air too stale. His heart, filled with the blood of last night’s meal, pounded in his chest, and he went from slightly chilly to hot and feverish as blood was forced through his circulatory system. It mixed with the embalming fluid and left him feeling full and constipated. He didn’t want to get up, but he also didn’t want to go on lying there. He was the definition of miserable.
Before long, the pain became too great and he got up to pace, pressing his hands to the sides of his head and gritting his teeth. Merrick, who slept very little if at all, sat in his chair and watched, trying his best to talk him through it. “It’ll be over soon,” Merrick said. “The pain receptors in your brain are the first to go. When they burn out, you won’t feel anything.”
“When?” Dom asked, his voice raising with the tide of pain.
“A couple days?”
“A couple days???”
“The pain will lessen gradually,” Merrick said, “this is the worst of it.”
Dom believed that this was, indeed, the worst of it, but he doubted it would lessen gradually. For the rest of the day, the pain got worse and worse until every light blinded him, every sound turned his stomach, and the smell of anything made his gorge rise. The cloying smell of the embalming fluid, the light but unmistakable odor of dead flesh, and the scent of stale blood sitting in decomposing stomachs made him want to vomit, but he was afraid to. He didn’t think he could handle the sight of blood rushing from his mouth and splattering the floor. He still possessed enough of his facilities, he believed, to go insane.
Pain has a way of darkening one’s mood, and by the time the sun began to set, Dom was in the most sour mood possible. Even Merrick’s calm, fatherly voice was beginning to get on his nerves. When he took the oath to him the day before (or was it the day before that?), he turned his faith and trust over to Merrick entirely. He was finally accepted, included, finally had the love and fellowship that, in the pit of his soul, he had always wanted. Merrick understood him, Merrick was kind to him.
But deep down, Dom realized that he didn’t fully trust him. He said that his brain didn’t rot because he was “lucky.” That sounded like some bullshit to Dom. Why wasn’t Joe a blithering idiot too? Was he lucky as well? Did lightning strike in the same place twice? In life, people had done nothing but hurt and lie to Dom. Why would death be any different? He thought back to the strange liquid that always seemed to leak from Merrick’s nose, and Joe’s. He thought it was embalming fluid, but it never leaked from his own nose, or from anyone else’s. He tried to tell himself that it was far too soon to judge, but once he began to doubt something, his mind raced away. He felt a twinge of guilt, as Merrick had done absolutely nothing to deserve his doubt, but goddamn it, his head was on fire and he wanted it to stop. Anything to make it stop.
Just after sundown, the music began as Club Vlad opened for the night. It throbbed in the center of Dom’s head and made him want to claw his eyes out. When it became too much for him, he slipped away and stumbled into the sultry summer night. He came out in the alley running behind the club, clutching his head and breathing through bared teeth. He staggered, bumped into a metal trash can, and roared at the top of his lungs, as if he could purge himself of the pain by screaming.. His voice echoed and came back to him, making the pain worse.
Merrick was lying. He knew it. People always lied to him. His brain was rotting and PEOPLE WERE LYING! Flashing with anger, he slammed his fist into the brick wall of a Chinese restaurant. He barely felt anything so he did it again and again until his hand was lumpy and shaking. He sat heavily on the ground and pressed his hands to his head. It felt like maggots were burrowing into his brain, and he was suddenly terrified that they really were. He needed to stop this awful pain, but how?
An idea came to him.
The funeral home.
Maybe there was something there.
He was on his feet and lumbering there before the thought had even finished reverberating through his mind. It was a long shot, but he was desperate. On the way there, he stuck to the shadows, staying out of the light cast by the streetlamps and avoiding people. When he passed them, he kept his head down. When he reached the funeral home, he went to the back door where he and Jessie had gone the other day. He tried it, and it opened.
Inside, he bounced off the walls like a pinball, knocking over an end table and tearing at the flesh of his head, pulling it away in long, gray strips. He panted like a wild animal, his body a raging tempest of emotions. It was reaching a crescendo, he thought, his brain was about to go supernova. The world dimmed, things got really echoy. The young man he’d picked the embalming fluid up from was there, looking scared.
Flashing, Dom grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall, knocking a painting of a flowery field to the carpet. Everything seemed to go in slow mo. “How does Merrick keep his brain from rotting?” Dom heard himself demanding from far away. “How does he keep the pain away?”
The man trembled. “I-I-”
Dom slammed him again. “Tell me or I’ll make you like me.”
“No!” the man wailed. He shook his head from side to side, his eyes wet with fear.
“How?”
“He-He uses a solution,” the man stammered. “Some kind of special thing. It preserves his brain. That’s all I know.”
An idea occurred to Dom.
Holding the man by the back of his neck, Dom dragged him into the embalming room and pushed him against the table. His head felt like it was swelling. Hot, screaming, getting ready to explode. He looked around, found the embalming machine, and grabbed the hose. There was a sharp tip on it so that you could jam it into a body. He held it in his hand, hesitating for just a moment before pressing it to his temple. The man watched in horror as Dom slowly shoved the tip into his head. It tore his flesh, broke through his skull, and sank into his brain. He felt no pain, only pressure, but cried out anyway. His eyes rolled up into his head and a shudder went through his body.
“Turn it on!” he yelled.
“That’s not what he -”
“TURN IT ON!”
Starting, the man turned the machine on. Cold embalming fluid squirted directly into Dom’s brain. Almost at once, the pain began to ebb away, replaced only by a fuzzy sense of numbness. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, looking for all the world like an addict taking a hit of his favorite substance after a long and trying day. Fluid leaked from his nose, ears, and eyes and dripped down the back of his throat.
The man waited for a long time, then turned the machine off.
The pain was gone.
At least for now.
“Tell me again,” Dom said.
The man did. Merrick used a special preserving agent to keep his brain intact. Joe, the man suspected, got it as well. So Merrick had lied to him.
Dom felt betrayed.
And angry.
Leaving the man (Dom realized that he didn’t even know his name), he walked back to Club Vlad, his hands fisted in his pockets. All his life, he had been hurt, lied to, and ignored. All his life, people had done wrong to him. And all those years, he just took it.
He resolved not to be so accepting in death.
At last, he was going to stop being a sniveling little bitch and stand up for himself.
When he reached Club Vlad, he slammed through the back door and took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he called out Merrick’s name. The old man was sitting in his chair, being attended to by Jessie and Matt. He looked startled when Dom came in. “You lied to me,” Dom said, stalking over to his benefactor.
“What are you talking about?” Merrick asked, doing his best to sound innocent.
“You lied to me!” Dom screamed. He bent over and got so close to Merrick’s face that he could have kissed him. “You told me there was no way to save my brain, but that’s not true. You’re pumping your head full of shit and letting the rest of us rot.”
A dark shadow flickered across Merrick’s face. “Watch your tone when you talk to me,” he said. His voice was low, menacing.
“Fuck you,” Dom said. “I should k -”
Suddenly, Dom was being grabbed from behind and yanked back, an arm around his neck. He cried out in alarm as Joe swung him around and slammed him face first into the wall. He heard his nose crunch, felt his teeth shatter. Next, Joe wrestled him to the glitter-sprinkled floor and wedged his knee between his shoulder blades.
Merrick watched with a sneer of disgust, his hands gripping the arms of his chair. He wheeled himself over, Jessie holding his IV stand steady and following behind. “Listen, you son of a bitch,” Merrick said, “you’re lucky to be a part of this family.”
Cold fear filled the pit of Dom’s stomach, yet he wouldn’t back down, couldn’t back down. He had lived his entire life like a mouse in a burrow, he wasn’t about to live his entire death the same way.
“Fuck your family,” he said defiantly. “And fuck you.”
Merrick’s face darkened and he sat back in his chair. He looked at Jessie and nodded. She went away and came back a moment later holding something in her hand. Dom’s eyes widened when he saw what it was.
A wooden stake, one end honed to a razor point.
Why they had one of those lying around, Dom didn’t know; it’d be like Superman keeping a piece of kryptonite on the mantle over the fireplace. Merrick directed Max and Matt to hold Dom’s arms down/ Joe pivoted, kneeling on his head now so that Dom’s back was exposed. Dom’s heart slammed with terror and tremors raced through his body.
“Is this what you want, Dominick?” Merrick asked. “To die? To truly die?”
Dom swallowed hard. No, it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to live, to love, to have a family one day. He wanted a happy, normal life, the life TV and social media had been promising him since he was a little boy.
But all of that went out the window the night he died in his little apartment. There was no life anymore, just a grotesque parody of life. What was there for him other than death? Clinging desperately onto life for decades like Merrick? Stuffing himself full of embalming fluid and moth balls? Grinding for one more minute just so he could sit hooked up to a machine?
Dom spoke.
“What?” Merrick asked, not having heard.
Dom licked his lips. “Just fucking do it.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Expectation hung in the air. Finally, breaking the tension, Merrick nodded to Jessie. Kneeling down, she brought the stake up, and Dom closed his eyes.
This was it.
He braced himself for death.
Jessie brought the stake down just as a shot rang out, deafening in the small space. Her head whipped back, embalming fluid, skull fragments, and gray, sickly pieces of brain showering from the back of her head. She flopped back and landed on the floor with a sickening thud.
A woman cop, her black uniform in stark contrast to the burning white light, stood in the doorway to the hall, her gun drawn. Everyone did, indeed, freeze, more out of surprise than respect for authority. They all looked at her, their dead mouths agape, resembling children who’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Everyone on the ground!” she barked.
No one knew what to do. They hadn’t expected to be raided by the police so had not prepared. She jerked her gun and everyone instinctively flinched. “On the ground!” she repeated. To Max: “You too, bone boy.”
The first one to react was Joe. He sprang at her like a big, undead frog. She brought the gun around and fired, but he was already crashing into her. The shot went wild and struck the IV bag next to Merrick; he ducked and let out a sound of fear. The others rushed her, and Dom got quickly to his feet. Jessie lay on the floor, her mouth open in a silent scream and her bony fingers frantically examining the ragged hole in the center of her forehead. For a moment, he was frozen; everything was happening too fast. Then, when Merrick saw him and cried, “Stop him!, he came alive. Jessie tried to grab at his leg, but he kicked her hand away and stomped on it like it was a giant spider. On the other side of the room, Matt, Joe, and Max had forced the cop to the ground. Perhaps excited by all the action, perhaps just hungry, they began to tear her apart. She howled in pain, and the last thing Dom saw before he fled was her open, blood-filled mouth. Her eyes were filled with pain…with terror.
After that, Dom ran.
***
When the interloper was dead, Merrick directed Joe and Matt to dispose of the body. “Get rid of it,” he said wearily and rubbed his temples, “make sure it isn’t found.”
They rolled her into a carpet from the office, and the way her feet stuck out may have been comical under other circumstances.
Goddamn it, this was bad. Merrick’s entire philosophy rested on avoiding detection. He had done well in that regard. Whereas other vampires had attacked their villages and gotten themselves dug from the ground and staked, he had made it four decades. He never shat where he ate, and there is no bigger turd than killing a cop. They might dawdle on all the boys who’d gone missing - taken because their blood was stronger and more robust than the blood of girls - but they would not take a cop dying lightly at all.
Merrick owned various businesses around the country. He and the others would simply move on. Tomorrow night, they would disappear into the night. They had done it before and they would likely do it again. Once things were settled at their new base of operations, he would have Joe killed for all the trouble he’d caused.
And Dom?
Let him go.
The little rat wouldn’t last a month on his own.
“Jessie?”
Jessie sat against the wall, gazing into space.
“Jessi…start packing. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
She didn’t move, didn’t seem to hear. The shot had all but lobotomized her.
Damn it.
Joe backed the van up to the back door of Club Vlad, and then helped Matt carry the carpet-rolled body down the stairs. They loaded it in and closed the back doors. Together, they drove around looking for a place to dump it. Merrick wanted it to go unfound, but Joe doubted there was anywhere isolated enough in the city. On a whim, he drove to Washington Park, a vast expanse of green trees and shadows. There was a large pond there. It seemed the best option. They were leaving tomorrow anyway, so did it really matter?
Joe backed the van to a railing overlooking the dark water and put it in park. He and Matt got out, fetched the body, and carried it to the railing. They lifted and heaved it over. It splashed. Thus, they rid themselves of Vanessa Rodregiez.
***
Bruce sat anxiously up in his easy chair and waited for his cell to ring.
Parked in front of the TV by warm lamplight, a beer wedged between his legs, he’d been watching the 11’o’clock news when the phone rang. He picked it up and it was Vanessa. “Hey,” she said, “I think I found our body?”
“Which one?” Bruce asked and took a drink. “We have a lot of those these days.”
“Dominick Mason.”
Bruce sat forward in his chair. “Dead Dom? Where?”
“He just came out of a funeral home, ironically enough.”
“That sounds about right,” Bruce said. “Where are you now?”
“I’m following him east on Central.”
“Are you sure it’s him?” Bruce asked.
“I think so, but I’m not sure. I’ll call you back when I’m done.”
Bruce sat the phone aside and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
At some point, he fell asleep sitting up, his head lulled to one side and his mouth open. He snorted himself awake, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. He checked his phone and was perturbed to see that it was past 2am.
Vanessa hadn’t called.
He dialed her number and let the phone ring until it went to voicemail. Sighing, he ended the call, then waited a few minutes and called again.
Still no answer.
It was possible she had forgotten. Maybe the guy turned out to not be Dead Dom after all. She followed some random guy around, realized it, and that was that. Hell, she was probably too embarrassed to call and tell him about it.
Something told him that wasn’t right, however.
There was something else going on here.
Something…darker.
Just before 3am, his phone rang. He snatched it off the end table next to the chair and answered it. It was Burt, the night sargent. “Rodriguez is missing,” he said simply.
Bruce’s heart sank. “Missing?”
“Yeah, she hasn’t checked in for hours and she isn’t answering calls.”
“I’m on my way,”
Bruce tore through the house, pulling on his uniform, socks, and shoes in less time than it took a Daytona 500 pit crew to service a car. In ten minutes he was speeding down 787, the Albany skyline rising in the distance. As he hurried to the station, he thought back to his last conversation with Vanessa. She’d found Dom the Dead Man, the “corpse” who’d scared Ed Harris out of a 20 year career. Despite all their talk about vampires and the living dead, Bruce didn’t believe it, not really. Even so, he was sure that Dominick Mason had done something to Vanessa.
He checked in at the station before doing anything else. They had triangulated Vanessa’s last known location via cell towers. Cops were already out searching the streets for her. Bruce went out as well, intending to start from her last known position and work his way east on Central. The closest funeral home was Tebbutt and Frederick on Central. There was also Lasak & Gigliotti on North Allen Street. Bruce didn’t know which one Vanessa had seen Dom come out of, so he checked both.
Both were deserted at this hour.
Undeterred, Bruce drove up and down Central Ave. At one point, he noticed a shape in an alleyway that looked human. He hit the brakes, jumped out, and pointed his gun at it. “Freeze!”
An old wino stepped out of the darkness. “Alright, you got me,” he said, hands up. “I started COVID. It was an accident, I swear.”
Bruce sighed and put his gun away.
For two more hours, Bruce searched the streets of Albany for Vanessa. At 4am, he spotted a squad car abandoned in the rear parking lot of an abandoned gas station on lower Lark Street. He called it in and the desk sergeant confirmed that it was the one Vanessa had signed out that night.
Still there was no sign of Vanessa herself.
Just after dawn, as the city came alive and CDTA buses began lumbering up and down the streets, Bruce got a call on his cell. “A jogger found a body in Washington Park.”
Bruce was in his personal car. He had no bubble light, no siren. Even so, he sped through the streets like he did, blowing through red lights and stop signs with little care to himself or anyone else. When he got to Washington Park, he found an army cops by the pond, the scene cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. He slammed on the brakes, threw open the door, and jumped out without even turning off the engine.
The body was rolled up in a carpet and lying on the bank. Two beat cops unrolled it at Bruce’s direction. “We should wait for -” one of them started, but Bruce cut him off.
“Do it.”
They compiled, and at the carpet’s center, like a rotten cream filling, was the body of Vanessa Rodregiuez. Her head was tilted to one side, her eyes wide and staring. Her throat had been mangled and ripped away, her head nearly severed. Even in the black and red mess, Bruce could make out the teeth marks and puncture wounds. They may have looked like something else to anyone else who saw them, but he knew, in that moment, what they were dealing with.
A sharp pang of horror sliced through him, and his knees went weak.
“Jesus Christ,” one of the beat cops drew.
Bruce fell to, rather than knelt on, one knee. He bent over the body, a mixture of horror and grief welling his throat. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her in death, but he stayed his hand. Instead, he visually examined the body. She had bruises on her face, defensive wounds on her hands, and her gun was gone. Whoever had attacked her, she put up a fight.
Something glinted on her pants.
“What’s that?” one of the cops asked.
“I dunno,” the other replied, “but it’s all over the carpet.”
Indeed, there were glinty little specks all over it, winking like mocking eyes. Nice work, eh? We really fucked her up, didn’t we? Wink wink.
“It looks like…”
The other cop cut him off. “Glitter.”
Bruce flashed back to his visit to Club Vlad the other day.
There had been glitter everywhere.
Bruce stood up.
He had work to do.
***
Instead of going back to the station to start his shift, Bruce went to Lowes. There, he bought a mallet, a gas can, and a dozen sticks of wood. An employee in a blue vest used a machine to sharpen them to a wicked point and he took his purchases to the car. Next, he drove over to the Mobil station and filled the gas can. He was so hellbent on revenge that he sprang for premium, the good stuff. No expense shall be spared.
His final stop was at a Catholic church. He filled a canteen with holy water from the marble font by the door, then swiped a crucifix from the wall. He stopped by the station, went inside, and grabbed a black duffle bag with POLICE written across the front in yellow. He opened the gun cabinet in his office, took out a shotgun, and loaded it with shells. He grabbed a handful from the box and stuffed them into his pocket.
He was just finishing up when Bertha came in. “There you are,” she spat, “I’ve waited long enough for you to do something. I demand -”
Bruce shoved the duffle bag into her arms. “Make yourself useful.”
“What?” she demanded.
“We’re going to get your granddaughter,” Bruice lied. Kind of.
Bertha’s demeanor changed. “Good. It’s about time. I was starting to think you were a complete incompetent.”
Bruce didn’t answer. Outside, he plucked the bag out of Bertha’s hands and tossed it into the backseat. He slipped behind the wheel and Bertha sat in the passenger seat. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Club Vlad,” Bruce said and started the engine.
“I want all of them arrested.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bruce said.
She barked orders the entire way there. Bruce was so deep in his thoughts that he barely heard her. The image of Vanessa’s ruined throat and terror-twisted face haunted him, and he felt a lump forming in his throat. Hot tears filled his eyes but he blinked them back and forced himself to calm down.
I’ll cry when I’m done killing, he thought.
A few minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of Club Vlad. It was a hot and sunny day and the place seemed even more ominous because of it. The windows were black, the front cast in perpetual shadows by the old marquee from when it used to be a theater. The place was surely closed, but Bruce could hear music still playing from inside, some techno dance bullshit. “Alright,” he said, “let’s go.”
Getting out, he slung the dufflebag over his shoulder and carried the shotgun, the canteen full of holy water clasped to his belt. Bertha carried the gas can, looking confused. “Why do we need this?” she asked.
“We’re burning the place down.”
Bertha blinked in surprise…then an evil grin carved across her face. “That’ll show the bastards.”
Unlike last time, the door was locked. Bruce used the butt of the shotgun to break the glass, then reached inside and unlocked the door, being careful not to cut himself. This was the point of no return. What he had in mind would probably get him kicked off the force or even thrown in jail - and we all know how tough jail can be for a former barnaclehead. The memory of Vanessa’s contorted face pushed him on, however.
He’d suffer any consequences he needed to just so long as he got the sons of bitches who did this to her.
Inside, the club was cool and cave-like. Strobe lights flashed, on and off, black and white, dazzling Bruce’s eyes. The bartender was at his station, cleaning up from the night before. When he saw Bruce and Bertha come in, he started. Bruce pointed the shotgun at him. “Don’t fucking move,” he commanded.
The bartender hesitated, then reached for something under the bar.
The shotgun kicked in Bruce’s hands, and the bartender flew back, turning as he crashed into the barback. Bottles, glasses, and mugs crashed to the floor along with the bartender. Bruce racked the gun, and the shell flew out. He moved low and fast now, expecting to be swarmed by vampires, living thugs who worked for vampires, or vampire thugs who worked for themselves.
Though the shot had been like thunder, no one came.
Bruce had no idea where to go, but he imagined that vampires were naturally gravitate to the lowest part of the building. Was there a basement? Shit, he should have looked up the building plans at city hall. Damn, this is what happens when you go off half-cocked. He searched around a bit, opening doors and sweeping the rooms beyond with the shotgun. He found no basement, only stairs leading up. “Stay close,” he said to Bertha.
In the lead, Bruce crept up the stairs, the flashlight on the shotgun providing a cone of clean, white light. At the top of the stairs, he went right, and came to an office and a store room. Backtracking, and bumping into a bungling Bertha, he went into the next room. It was large and open with a vaulted ceiling, almost like a ballroom. Here the same strobe lights throbbed on and off, making him dizzy. Was this to dazzle prospective vampire hunters?
Either way, this was the place. Bodies lay strewn across the floor, some curled up on their sides and others in the classic vampire pose: Flat on their backs with their hands laced over their chests. In the center, like the sun to the planets, Merrick Garvis lay slumped back in his wheelchair, his neck exposed for any potential assassin to come and cut. Not that it would kill him. At least Bruce didn’t think it would.
“They’re all dead,” Bertha whispered. She looked around and gasped. “There’s Jessie.”
Jessie lay on her back, her hands folded on her chest. She had a ragged bullet hole in the center of her forehead. “Oh, God,” Bertha wavered, “someone shot her.”
He hoped it was Vanessa. And he hoped it fucking hurt.
Looking around, Bruce couldn’t find Dominick Mason. Was he the one who killed Vanessa? Was it a group effort? He wanted the little son of a bitch bad, but it looked like he’d have to go on without him. They didn’t have much time.
Unshouldering the duffle bag, he knelt down and rummaged around. “Start splashing that gas on the bodies,” he said.
“But -”
“Just do it,” he snapped.
There must have been a harder edge in his voice than normal, because Bertha jumped and did as she was told. She upended the can and began to splash gasoline onto the sleeping forms, the smell of it acrid and strong.
Taking out a stake and the mallet, Bruce went over to Merrick and knelt down. He gripped the stake in one hand and placed it firmly against Merrick’s chest. He brought the mallet up and hesitated, the gravity of what he was doing finally reaching him. What if he was wrong? What if -
Merrick’s head whipped up and their eyes locked.
Too late.
Bruce brought the mallet down as hard as he could. The stake drove deep into Merrick’s heart, and the vampire let out a howling screech that rang through the chamber like the cry of a banshee. His bony fingers clawed at the stake and his head whipped from side to side, his back arching and his robe coming open. In the quick strobe pattern, Bruce was shocked to see that his body was little more than a wood frame, chicken wire, and cotton balls. His blacked heart was hidden behind a screen of mesh that the stake had easily torn through. It throbbed, seemingly in time with the strobe lights, and Merrick let out another wail.
Bertha screamed, and Bruce jumped to his feet.
The vampires, drawn by their master’s cries of distress, were rising to their feet. Two, four, six of them, pale and ethereal like ghosts in a gothic mansion. They came toward Merrick, and Bruice fell back a step. The old man had gone still and lay slumped to one side, his eyes open and his mouth slack, embalming fluid leaking from the corner of his lips. Jessie bent over him and touched his face. Though she moved like a zombie, with no human emotion, Bruce was crazily sure that it was a touch of tenderness and love. Merrick didn’t stir.
He was dead.
Jessie looked at him. Yellow liquid leaked from her eyes like tears. Instead of attacking him, she turned on her grandmother and slammed her against the wall. Bertha screamed and dropped the can. It landed on its side, its contents sloshing out onto the floor. A man that resembled the pictures Bruce had seen of Joe Rossi only deader rushed him, slamming into him and knocking the shotgun aside. It hit the floor and skidded away. Joe grabbed Bruce around the throat and squeezed. Still the lights flashed, off and on, off and on. The walls thrummed with the mechanized beat of dance music, pierced only by Bertha’s screams as Jessie ripped out her throat.
Joe leaned in, his fangs wicked and glowing in the light. Bruce clawed at the monster’s face, tearing away strips of dead flesh. Joe turned his head to the side, and Bruce kneed him in the groin. Even dead, getting kicked in the balls hurt like hell, apparently. Joe’s grip loosened and Bruce was able to shove him off. Bruce unclasped the canteen and frantically screwed the cap off as Joe recovered. Joe sprang at him again, and Bruce splashed him in the face.
A sound like sizzling meat filled the air, and Joe screamed at the top of his lungs. He pressed his hands to his face and danced around the room, his skin liquifying and oozing between his fingers. The others were coming now, led by a terrible skeletal thing. Bruce scooped the shotgun off the floor, brought it around, and fired. The blast hit the thing dead center, tearing it literally in half. The top half flew back, an all too human look of surprise on its face, and the bottom half fell over with a wet thud. Another vampire came at, and Bruce slammed it across the face with the butt of the gun. He heard its jaw crack, saw teeth flying.
Bertha lay dead on the floor, Jessie bent over her. The smell of Bertha’s blood attracted the others, who seemed to forget about Bruce, Merrick, and everything else. Joe was on his knees, wailing in pain, and the skeletal thing was pulling itself toward Bertha. A feeding frenzy broke out as vampires fought to get a piece of her the way piglets might fight over their mother’s teat. Bruce watched in a mixture of horror and fascination, but recovered himself. He grabbed the gas can from the floor and dumped the rest of its contents on Merrick’s body, the feeding vampires’ backs, and the floor, using the last of it to make a little trail to the door. He tossed the can aside, bent down, and stuck a match.
A huge, fiery whump filled the room, and fire streaked along the trail. The vampires all went up in a huge ball of flames, and fire shot up Merrick’s body, catching his robe, his hair, and the wooden frame that had kept him semi upright for God knows how long. Letting out inhuman screams, the vampires broke from Bertha’s corpse. One stumbled around, bounced off the wall, and fell; another toddled toward Bruce before falling to its knees. The half skeleton kept drinking from Bertha’s neck even as it burned.
The heat was enormous, baking. Bruce backed away, and the last thing he saw before smoke obscured his vision was Merrick Garvis.
He was literally melting.
***
Dominick Mason tried to go home, but he no longer had a home. All of his worldly possessions sat on the sidewalk in front of his building, discarded coldly as easily. His key didn’t work in his door and there was a FOR RENT sign on it. Why would it be any other way? He was dead. Sooner or later, everyone forgets you when you’re dead, and all the things you held so dear wind up in the trash. It was a hard pill to swallow, but most people aren’t around to see it after they die.
He was.
From his building, he walked east toward Washington Park. In the distance, thick, black smoke billowed into the air, and sirens rose. He barely noticed and wouldn’t have cared even if he did. No more rubbernecking for him. That was for the living.
The pain that had plagued him so the previous day came back, only less this time. Maybe he was imagining it, but it was getting harder to think. Not that he cared, really. What was there to think about anyway? How he had no one to mourn or miss him? How he died and not one single person, except for maybe his mother, cared, or even noticed? How he had done nothing with his life? Even to the women he’d slept with, what was he? Just another dating app hookup. They probably didn’t even remember his name.
Merrick had been right about one thing. Death was easy. It was life that was hard…life that hurt.
With that in mind, Dominick made his way to Washington Park. It was a vast and deep place with many small caves and thickets. Kids played on the playground, their cries of laughter scenting the still air. It had grown cloudy and began to rain. Still, smoke poured into the sky in the direction of Club Vlad. Dom didn’t wish ill on Merrick and the others, didn’t hope it was them burning. He didn’t care anymore. Not about them, not about anyone. For better or worse (and he would argue it was worse), his life was over. His time came days ago, he just missed the boat.
Picking out an isolated little area, Dom sat against a tree with his legs splayed out in front of him. He titled his head back and closed his eyes. Yes, thinking was hard now. His mind felt sluggish, cold. He was thirsty…so, so thirsty, but he ignored it.
Slowly, the bugs found him. Flies buzzed around him and laid their eggs in his skin. Beetles scuttled over him, followed by worms.
Next, it was the birds. They ate out his eyes and nibbled at his blue, bloated skin.
The animals came last.
Their appetites were bigger.
And they left little remaining of poor, outcast Dominick Mason.
***
That night, Bruce sat alone in his little trailer, a bottle of whiskey wedged between his legs and unshed tears in his eyes. He stared at his reflection in the darkened TV set and took long swallows from the bottle. He planned to drink until he forgot or passed out, whichever came first. He tried to not think about Vanessa, but in his addled state, he couldn’t control himself, and began to cry. When that storm passed, like the others before it, he chugged from the bottle.
As distant church bells clanged the hour - midnight - a feeble knock came at the door. Bruce took another drink and it came again. Getting up, he stumbled, nearly fell, and gripped the bottle tightly. He didn’t want to lose one precious drop.
Again, the knock.
“I’m coming,” Bruce slurred. He staggered to the door and fought with the lock. He was dizzy and seeing double.
When he got it, he opened the door.
The bottle dropped from his hand and clanked onto the floor.
Vanessa, clad in a puke green hospital gown, stood on the step, her hands pressed to her chest and a look of anguish on her milk white face. Her head tilted to one side, the wounds on her neck cleaned but open, gaping. Her dark eyes shone with tears. “I’m dead,” she said.
Breaking down in tears, she collapsed against him and they sank to the floor. She was cold and smelled. Bruce wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest anyway. “Shhh, it’s alright,” he said drunkenly. “Hey, it’s alright.
“I’m dead,” she repeated, and her voice broke. “I don’t want to die.”
Bruce held her close, trying to warm her icy skin. He didn’t know what to say, so he cried with her.
“You’re safe now,” he said, “it’s going to be okay.”
“I want blood,” she said and sobbed harder, “I want to hurt people.”
“Shhh,” Bruce said again. “It’s okay.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a utility knife. He flicked the blade across his wrist and searing pain shot up his arm. “Here,” he said and offered her his blood, “drink this.”
He did this without care and without thought. She needed him, and one barnaclehead always backs up another.
Vanessa hesitated, looking from his face to the oozing blood, unsure.
“Go ahead,” he told her.
Vanessa brought his wrist to her mouth.
And began to drink.

Yo, Reddit! Join us for DIPPUL on Sunday in the Eken Park neighborhood, starting at Woody & Anne's!
DIPPUL = Drunk In Public Picking Up Litter ♻
DIPPUL is a bar crawl meets a neighborhood trash pickup party. During the warmer months, we target a different Madison neighborhood each month to clean the streets + stop for drinks! Check out our Facebook page for more info + give us a like - https://www.facebook.com/DIPPULmadison
FAQ

• Where should I meet you? We'll start at Woody & Anne's @ 1:00pm. Stop 2 - Dexter's Pub. Stop 3 - Slice's Bar & Grill.
  
• How will I know who to look for? Look for the friendly folks with gloves, garbage bags, and a wagon :)
  
• Why should I come? To meet new people, get out and walk, and enjoy some beverages (if that's your thing). Some of us just drink wateNA!
  

Before the Clay drama
Everyone were in full support of the rumor of AD being a sugar baby yet Celina, a known clout chaser escort, comes with full discernment? Why the sudden now?
Yes these two individuals are different people by character, background info and principles however when it came to the rumored “career” choice it was more “excuse-able” for AD to be a sugar baby as a way to “Get the bag”. Better for it to be transactional than emotionally build a relationship, right?
It was entertained from Clay and his friend that she could be an escort because there’s no trace history of her working despite being a real estate agent. Despite it being a rumor everyone was okay with it until Clay several months later is outed of “dating” Celina and now everyone is against it now?
Very hypocritical from the LIB fanbase alone since the only reason why this “relationship” is shamed is because of the lack of class act of Celina Powell compare to AD.
People would label this as Colorism. Clay dismissing black women but is openly willing to settle for a mix race/ light shade women despite the career he pretend to show a disliking too.
Personally I think he is just another “fame chaser”. No different to Jessica, Trevor and the rest of the LIB cast using the attention and spotlight they got from LIB to reach to stardom. Except he’s just moving like a degenerate.
The fact that he apparently sleeps with pornstars ( publicly showing his face with them), has label “Diddy” as example of “black male success”, and obnoxiously praise his dad infidelity past as a goal plan he wants to follow in the future leading to his mother publicly speaking about it; it’s just giving a typical groupie whom sleeping his way to the top to reach Hollywood. Just like Celina Powell.
Food for thought.
I just find it funny how fast people were quick to flipped the switch once when it was revealed he was sleeping with Celina. If we’re told not to judge wouldn’t we be happy for Clay? It is very distasteful and it really shows how unauthentic LIB is turning too now but I just notice that tone shift. It’s like guys, keep the same energy and show some support, right?

I love this sub so much! I've learned of brands I've never heard of and wanted to return the favor. I created a list of brands we love in this sub with hyperlinks! They are in alphabetical order because I couldn't possibly rank these as we have quite the range of loves!
I thought it'd be nice to include well-known brands for anyone just getting their start in their handbag journey.

• Acne Studios: Based in Stockholm, Sweden. Made in Italy. Known for: Contemporary and minimalist designs, innovative materials, and effortlessly cool style.
• Adelle Stoll: Based in New York, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags with a modern aesthetic and attention to detail.
• Advene: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy. Known for: Luxury handbags and accessories crafted from premium materials, featuring sleek designs with a contemporary edge.
• Aesther Ekme: Based in Copenhagen, Denmark. Made in Italy. Known for: Architectural-inspired leather goods with a focus on clean lines and functionality.
• Aimee Kestenberg: Based in New York, USA. Made in China. Known for: Fashion-forward handbags and accessories with a focus on functionality and versatility.
• Akris: Based in St. Gallen, Switzerland. Made in Switzerland and other locations. Known for: Modern and architectural designs, offering luxury handbags with a minimalist aesthetic and Swiss craftsmanship.
• Alaïa: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Avant-garde and sculptural designs, impeccable craftsmanship, and body-conscious silhouettes.
• Amélie Pichard: Based in Paris, France. Made in Portugal. Known for: Eclectic and avant-garde designs, including unconventional handbags with a retro-futuristic aesthetic and sustainable practices.
• Anine Bing: Based in Los Angeles, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Effortlessly cool and timeless designs, offering luxury handbags with a rock 'n' roll edge and Scandinavian influences.
• Alexander McQueen: Based in London, UK. Made in Italy. Known for: Avant-garde fashion and innovative design under the creative direction of Sarah Burton.
• Alexander Wang: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Urban-chic designs, edgy aesthetic, and modern luxury handbags, including the "Rocco" and "Attica" bags.
• AllSaints: Based in London, UK. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Edgy and urban style, offering leather handbags with a rock 'n' roll aesthetic and distinctive designs.
• Animal Handmade: Based in Bali, Indonesia. Made in Bali. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a bohemian aesthetic.
• Anya Hindmarch: Based in London, UK. Made in Italy. Known for: Playful and whimsical designs, including the iconic "I Am Not A Plastic Bag" tote.
• APC: Based in Paris, France. Made in France and Portugal. Known for: Minimalist and understated French fashion with a focus on quality materials and craftsmanship.
• Aranaz: Based in Manila, Philippines. Made in the Philippines. Known for: Handwoven bags and accessories inspired by Filipino craftsmanship and culture.
• Aspinal of London: Based in London, UK. Made in England. Known for: Luxury leather goods including handbags, wallets, and accessories with a timeless British aesthetic.
• Ateliers Auguste: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Modern and minimalist designs, functional details, and premium materials, offering urban-inspired leather goods.
• ATP Atelier: Based in Stockholm, Sweden. Made in Italy. Known for: Minimalist and Scandinavian-inspired designs, handcrafted from vegetable-tanned leather for timeless elegance and sustainability.
• Balenciaga: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Avant-garde designs and innovative silhouettes under the creative direction of Demna Gvasalia.
• Bally: Based in Caslano, Switzerland. Made in Switzerland and Italy. Known for: Classic and elegant leather goods with a focus on craftsmanship and quality.
• Bimba y Lola: Based in La Coruña, Spain. Made in Spain and other locations. Known for: Contemporary and colorful designs, offering fashion-forward handbags with a playful aesthetic and Spanish flair.
• Bleu de Chauffe: Based in Ariège, France. Made in France. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags inspired by workwear and vintage styles.
• Brandon Blackwood: Based in New York, USA. Made in China. Known for: Contemporary handbags with a focus on inclusivity and social consciousness.
• Bolinder Stockholm: Based in Stockholm, Sweden. Made in Italy. Known for: Timeless leather goods with a Scandinavian design aesthetic.
• Bottega Veneta: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Intrecciato woven leather and understated luxury under the creative direction of Daniel Lee.
• BOYY: Based in Bangkok, Thailand. Made in Thailand. Known for: Structured handbags and accessories featuring oversized buckles and bold hardware.
• Brunello Cucinelli: Based in Solomeo, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Luxurious cashmere clothing and accessories with an emphasis on ethical and sustainable practices.
• Burberry: Based in London, UK. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Iconic trench coats, British heritage, and classic plaid patterns.
• Bvlgari: Based in Rome, Italy. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Italian luxury and glamour, offering iconic handbags and accessories with bold designs and exquisite craftsmanship.
• By Far: Based in Sofia, Bulgaria. Made in Bulgaria. Known for: Retro-inspired handbags and shoes with a modern twist.
• Campomaggi: Based in Teodorano, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a distressed and vintage look.
• Cafune: Based in Hong Kong. Made in China. Known for: Minimalist and functional handbags designed for the modern woman.
• Carolina Herrera: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy. Known for: Timeless elegance and feminine designs, including the iconic "Good Girl" fragrance.
• Celine: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Minimalist and modern designs under the creative direction of Hedi Slimane.
• Chanel: Based in Paris, France. Made in France and Italy. Known for: Iconic quilted handbags, timeless elegance, and classic fashion under the creative direction of Virginie Viard.
• Charles & Keith: Based in Singapore. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Trendy and affordable footwear and accessories for the fashion-forward woman.
• Christian Louboutin: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Red-soled shoes, bold and theatrical designs, and statement-making luxury handbags.
• Chloe: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Bohemian-inspired designs, including the iconic "Drew" and "Faye" handbags.
• Chylak: Based in Warsaw, Poland. Made in Poland. Known for: Minimalist and timeless leather bags with a focus on quality and craftsmanship.
• Clare V: Based in Los Angeles, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Chic and playful designs, including the iconic "Le Box" and "Le Big Sac" clutches.
• Claudie Pierlot: Based in Paris, France. Made in Europe. Known for: Feminine and romantic designs, including leather handbags with a touch of Parisian glamour.
• Coach: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: American heritage, quality leather goods, and timeless designs, including the iconic "Rogue" and "Tabby" bags.
• Coccinelle: Based in Sala Baganza, Italy. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Colorful and contemporary handbags with a youthful aesthetic.
• Coperni: Based in Paris, France. Made in France and Italy. Known for: Innovative and geometric designs inspired by technology and architecture.
• Cult Gaia: Based in Los Angeles, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Unique and sculptural handbags and accessories, including the iconic "Ark" bag.
• Cuyana: Based in San Francisco, USA. Made in Italy, Turkey, and other locations. Known for: Timeless and versatile essentials with a focus on sustainability and craftsmanship.
• Deadly Ponies: Based in Auckland, New Zealand. Made in New Zealand. Known for: Luxury leather goods with a focus on quality and innovation.
• Demellier: Based in London, UK. Made in Spain. Known for: Classic and elegant handbags crafted from sustainable materials.
• Delvaux: Based in Brussels, Belgium. Made in Belgium. Known for: Timeless and luxurious leather goods with a rich heritage dating back to 1829.
• Dior: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy and France. Known for: Iconic designs, including the "Lady Dior" and "Diorama" handbags, under the creative direction of Maria Grazia Chiuri.
• Dooney & Bourke: Based in Norwalk, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Classic American style, quality craftsmanship, and durable leather handbags and accessories.
• Elleme: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy and Portugal. Known for: Minimalist and contemporary handbags with clean lines and geometric shapes.
• Etro: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Bohemian-inspired designs, intricate patterns, and exotic prints, offering luxurious handbags with a global aesthetic and Italian craftsmanship.
• Faure le Page: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Heritage craftsmanship, luxurious materials, and iconic gun-sleeve canvas designs, offering elegant and timeless handbags.
• Fendi: Based in Rome, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Luxurious fur and leather goods, including the iconic "Baguette" and "Peekaboo" bags.
• Fleuron: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Timeless elegance and craftsmanship, offering luxury leather goods and accessories with a focus on sophisticated designs and high-quality materials.
• Fount: Based in Cleveland, USA. Made in Mexico or the Dominican Republic. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on quality materials and timeless design.
• Fossil: Based in Richardson, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Vintage-inspired designs, quality craftsmanship, and accessible luxury, offering a wide range of leather handbags and accessories.
• Freja New York: Based in New York, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Luxury handbags crafted from sustainable materials, featuring minimalist designs and timeless elegance, reflecting the brand's commitment to ethical fashion.
• Furla: Based in Bologna, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Colorful and accessible luxury handbags and accessories with a playful aesthetic.
• Ganni: Based in Copenhagen, Denmark. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Contemporary and feminine designs, including trendy handbags with a Scandinavian twist and bold prints.
• GG Maull: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy. Known for: Artistic and innovative designs with a focus on functionality and craftsmanship.
• Givenchy: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Avant-garde designs and urban chic style under the creative direction of Matthew M. Williams.
• Gucci: Based in Florence, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Iconic GG logo, vibrant prints, and eclectic designs under the creative direction of Alessandro Michele.
• Hammit: Based in Los Angeles, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Edgy and versatile handbags with a focus on functionality and craftsmanship.
• Hemlock and Hyde: Based in Cleveland, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories inspired by American heritage and vintage styles.
• Hevitz: Based in Seoul, South Korea. Made in South Korea. Known for: Elegant and sophisticated handbags with a modern twist.
• Hereu: Based in Barcelona, Spain. Made in Spain. Known for: Handcrafted leather goods inspired by Mediterranean culture and traditional craftsmanship.
• Hermès: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Timeless luxury, exquisite craftsmanship, and iconic designs such as the "Birkin" and "Kelly" bags.
• Hulme: Based in Manchester, UK. Made in UK. Known for: Sustainable and functional bags with a focus on recycled materials and innovative design.
• Il Bisonte: Based in Florence, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Timeless leather goods, including handbags and accessories crafted from high-quality materials with a focus on traditional Italian craftsmanship.
• Irevedi: Based in Seoul, South Korea. Made in South Korea. Known for: Minimalist and understated designs with a focus on quality materials and craftsmanship.
• Isabel Marant: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy. Known for: Effortlessly chic and bohemian designs, including leather handbags with a Parisian flair.
• Issey Miyake: Based in Tokyo, Japan. Made in Japan. Known for: Innovative and avant-garde designs, including the iconic "Bao Bao" bags featuring geometric shapes and unique textures, reflecting the brand's commitment to creativity and technology.
• Jil Sander: Based in Hamburg, Germany. Made in Italy. Known for: Minimalist and modern designs, impeccable tailoring, and understated luxury.
• Jimmy Choo: Based in London, UK. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Glamorous and elegant designs, luxury footwear, and iconic evening bags adorned with crystals and embellishments.
• JW Anderson: Based in London, UK. Made in Spain and Italy. Known for: Avant-garde designs that blend traditional craftsmanship with modern aesthetics.
• Joseph Duclos: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Elegant and timeless leather bags with a focus on luxury and craftsmanship.
• Just Campagne: Based in Saint-Junien, France. Made in France. Known for: Traditional French craftsmanship and heritage-inspired designs.
• Kate Spade: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Playful and colorful designs, including the iconic "Kate Spade New York" logo.
• Kevin Germanier: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Avant-garde designs and sustainable practices, offering unique handbags with a focus on upcycled materials and innovative techniques.
• Khaite: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Modern luxury and refined craftsmanship, offering timeless handbags with a focus on quality materials and sleek designs, reflecting the brand's commitment to effortless sophistication and elevated essentials.
• Kurt Geiger: Based in London, UK. Made in China and other locations. Known for: British heritage and craftsmanship, offering a wide range of fashion-forward handbags and accessories.
• Lancaster: Based in Paris, France. Made in China and other locations. Known for: French elegance and craftsmanship, offering stylish and practical handbags with a focus on quality materials and timeless design.
• Lanvin: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy and France. Known for: Sophisticated and luxurious fashion with a focus on draping and fluidity.
• Lancel: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: French elegance and craftsmanship, including the iconic "Premier Flirt" and "Charlie" bags.
• Le Tanneur: Based in Romans-sur-Isère, France. Made in France. Known for: Classic and refined leather goods with a focus on quality and functionality.
• Leatherology: Based in Carrollton, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Personalized leather goods and accessories with a modern and minimalist aesthetic.
• Leo et Violette: Based in Paris, France. Made in Europe. Known for: Timeless and elegant leather bags and accessories with a focus on quality materials.
• Lemaire: Based in Paris, France. Made in Europe. Known for: Minimalist and understated designs with a focus on quality and craftsmanship.
• Liberty London: Based in London, UK. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Heritage prints and luxury fabrics, offering a curated selection of designer handbags and accessories.
• Liebeskind: Based in Berlin, Germany. Made in India and China. Known for: Contemporary and urban-inspired handbags and accessories.
• Little Liffner: Based in Stockholm, Sweden. Made in Italy. Known for: Scandinavian minimalism and sleek designs with a playful twist.
• Lo & Sons: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Functional and stylish travel bags and accessories designed for modern lifestyles, featuring innovative features and high-quality materials, reflecting the brand's commitment to smart and versatile design.
• Loeffler Randall: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Modern and feminine designs, offering versatile handbags with unique silhouettes and playful details.
• Loewe: Based in Madrid, Spain. Made in Spain. Known for: Innovative leather craftsmanship and avant-garde designs under the creative direction of Jonathan Anderson.
• Longchamp: Based in Paris, France. Made in France and other locations. Known for: Iconic "Le Pliage" bags, timeless designs, and French elegance.
• Lotuff: Based in Providence, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on traditional techniques and materials.
• Louis Vuitton: Based in Paris, France. Made in France and other locations. Known for: Iconic monogram canvas, luxury travel goods, and innovative designs.
• Lulu Guinness: Based in London, UK. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Quirky and playful designs, including statement handbags adorned with unique motifs and iconic lip-shaped clutches, reflecting the brand's British heritage and whimsical aesthetic.
• Maje: Based in Paris, France. Made in Europe. Known for: Parisian chic and effortless elegance, offering feminine and contemporary handbags with a bohemian touch.
• Mako: Based in Seoul, South Korea. Made in South Korea. Known for: Modern and edgy designs with a focus on functionality and versatility.
• Mandel: Based in Berlin, Germany. Made in Europe. Known for: Sleek and minimalist designs with a focus on quality craftsmanship and materials.
• Mansur Gavriel: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy. Known for: Clean lines, vibrant colors, and timeless designs, including the iconic "Bucket" bag.
• Manufactum: Based in Waltrop, Germany. Made in Germany and Europe. Known for: High-quality and sustainable products for everyday life.
• Marc Jacobs: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Quirky and eclectic designs, including the iconic "Snapshot" and "The Softbox" bags.
• Marimekko: Based in Helsinki, Finland. Made in Finland and other locations. Known for: Bold and vibrant prints, offering iconic handbags and accessories with a focus on Finnish design and creativity.
• Marni: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Eclectic and avant-garde designs, bold prints, and unexpected silhouettes, offering unique and artistic handbags.
• Max Mara: Based in Reggio Emilia, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Timeless sophistication, Italian craftsmanship, and luxurious materials, including the iconic "Whitney" and "Grace" bags.
• MCM: Based in Munich, Germany. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Luxury leather goods with the iconic "Cognac Visetos" monogram.
• Metier: Based in London, UK. Made in Spain and Italy. Known for: Timeless and elegant leather goods with a focus on craftsmanship and functionality.
• Michael Kors: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Classic American style, luxury handbags, and accessories with a timeless appeal, including the iconic "Jet Set" and "Hamilton" collections.
• Miu Miu: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Playful and feminine designs, offering luxury handbags with a youthful spirit and innovative details, including the iconic "Matelassé" and "Madras" collections.
• Mlouye: Based in Istanbul, Turkey. Made in Turkey. Known for: Modern and architectural designs with a focus on versatility and functionality.
• Moreau: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on traditional French craftsmanship.
• Motherhouse: Based in Tokyo, Japan. Made in Japan. Known for: Minimalist and functional designs inspired by Japanese craftsmanship and aesthetics.
• Moynat: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Heritage craftsmanship, innovative designs, and iconic trunk creations since 1849.
• Mulberry: Based in Somerset, UK. Made in UK and other locations. Known for: Classic British style, including the iconic "Bayswater" and "Alexa" bags.
• Nanushka: Based in Budapest, Hungary. Made in Hungary. Known for: Modern and sustainable fashion with a focus on vegan leather and innovative materials.
• Neil Felipp: Based in Cebu, Philippines. Made in the Philippines. Known for: Handcrafted clutches and minaudières inspired by Philippine culture and craftsmanship.
• Nichole Kwon: Based in Houston, USA. Made in Italy. Known for: Elevated essentials and statement pieces with a focus on quality and craftsmanship.
• Nina Moniz da Maia: Based in Lisbon, Portugal. Made in Portugal. Known for: Luxury handbags crafted from sustainable and ethically sourced materials, featuring minimalist designs and timeless elegance.
• Neous: Based in London, UK. Made in Italy. Known for: Contemporary and architectural designs, combining modern aesthetics with traditional Italian craftsmanship.
• Olympia Le-Tan: Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Vintage-inspired designs, handcrafted embroidered book clutch bags, and whimsical storytelling themes, combining literary references with luxurious craftsmanship.
• O My Bag: Based in Amsterdam, Netherlands. Made in India. Known for: Sustainable and eco-friendly leather bags, ethically made with fair trade practices and timeless designs.
• Orciani: Based in Fano, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: High-quality leather goods with a focus on innovation and functionality.
• Opelle: Based in Toronto, Canada. Made in Canada. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on minimalist design and quality materials.
• Orla Kiely: Based in London, UK. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Retro-inspired designs, bold patterns, and playful prints, offering vintage-inspired handbags and accessories with a nostalgic charm.
• Oroton: Based in Sydney, Australia. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Luxury accessories with a focus on craftsmanship and timeless design.
• Osoi: Based in Seoul, South Korea. Made in South Korea. Known for: Contemporary and minimalist designs with a focus on functionality and versatility.
• Patricia Nash: Based in Knoxville, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Vintage-inspired leather bags and accessories with a bohemian flair.
• Parisa Wang: Based in New York, USA. Made in China. Known for: Contemporary and innovative designs, combining functionality with fashion-forward aesthetics, offering versatile and stylish handbags for the modern woman.
• Parker Clay: Based in Santa Barbara, USA. Made in Ethiopia. Known for: Ethically-made leather goods crafted by artisans in Ethiopia.
• Pinko: Based in Fidenza, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Contemporary and feminine designs with a focus on bold prints and innovative fabrics.
• Portland Leather Goods: Based in Portland, USA. Made in USA. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on sustainability and quality.
• Polene: Based in Paris, France. Made in Spain. Known for: Chic and minimalist designs with a focus on craftsmanship and affordability.
• Pourchet: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on timeless elegance and French savoir-faire.
• Prada: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Iconic nylon bags, innovative designs, and timeless luxury under the creative direction of Miuccia Prada.
• Proenza Schoeler: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Edgy and contemporary designs, including the iconic "PS1" and "Hex" bags.
• Radley: Based in London, UK. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Playful and functional designs with a British heritage aesthetic.
• Rag & Bone: Based in New York, USA. Made in USA and other locations. Known for: Modern and downtown style, offering contemporary handbags with a New York edge and understated sophistication.
• Rebecca Minkoff: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Contemporary and versatile designs, including stylish handbags with a downtown vibe and accessible luxury.
• Repetto: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Classic ballet flats and dance-inspired fashion with a focus on craftsmanship and comfort.
• The Row: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy and USA. Known for: Luxurious fabrics, impeccable tailoring, and understated elegance, offering timeless pieces including handbags known for their simplicity and quality craftsmanship.
• Sacai: Based in Tokyo, Japan. Made in Japan. Known for: Innovative and hybrid designs that blur the lines between fashion and function.
• Saint Laurent (YSL): Based in Paris, France. Made in Italy and France. Known for: Rock 'n' roll aesthetic, iconic tuxedo jackets, and the "Sac de Jour" and "Kate" bags.
• Salvatore Ferragamo: Based in Florence, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Italian luxury and craftsmanship, iconic designs, and innovative materials, including the "Gancini" and "Vara" bags.
• Sandro: Based in Paris, France. Made in Europe. Known for: French chic and modern elegance, offering sleek and sophisticated handbags with a Parisian twist.
• Saonara: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Handcrafted leather bags and accessories with a focus on traditional Italian craftsmanship.
• Savette: Based in Paris, France. Made in France. Known for: Timeless and elegant leather goods with a focus on quality and craftsmanship.
• Senreve: Based in San Francisco, USA. Made in Italy. Known for: Versatile and functional luxury handbags crafted from Italian leather, designed for the modern woman.
• Serapian: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Luxury leather goods with a focus on craftsmanship and innovation.
• Sézane: Based in Paris, France. Made in Portugal and Italy. Known for: Parisian chic and romantic designs, offering a curated selection of leather handbags and accessories.
• Smaak Amsterdam: Based in Amsterdam, Netherlands. Made in China. Known for: Contemporary and stylish bags designed for the modern woman.
• Soeur: Based in Paris, France. Made in Europe. Known for: French chic and effortless style, offering a range of timeless and versatile handbags with a focus on quality materials.
• Songmont: Based in Guangzhou, China. Made in China. Known for: Affordable and trendy handbags and accessories with a focus on quality and style.
• State of Escape: Based in Sydney, Australia. Made in Australia. Known for: Neoprene tote bags with a minimalist aesthetic, perfect for beach days and everyday use.
• Staud: Based in Los Angeles, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Playful and modern designs, bold colors, and eclectic silhouettes, offering trendy handbags and accessories with a focus on accessibility and style.
• Stella McCartney: Based in London, UK. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Ethical and sustainable luxury, vegan leather alternatives, and modern designs with a focus on sustainability.
• Strathberry: Based in Edinburgh, UK. Made in Spain. Known for: Clean lines and signature bar closure design, including the iconic "Strathberry Midi Tote."
• Tia Woven: Based in Denver, Colorado. Made in Ghana. Known for: Baskets made of Kinkanhe grass that function beautifully as fashion, storage, or art.
• Thom Browne: Based in New York, USA. Made in Italy and other locations. Known for: Tailored suits, preppy style, and avant-garde designs.
• Tod’s: Based in Sant'Elpidio a Mare, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Classic driving shoes, leather goods, and luxury accessories.
• Tory Burch: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Preppy-chic designs, including the iconic "T" logo and "Robinson" tote.
• Toteme: Based in Stockholm, Sweden. Made in Italy. Known for: Scandinavian minimalism, clean lines, and understated elegance, offering versatile and timeless leather bags.
• Tumi: Based in New Jersey, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Innovative and functional travel bags and accessories, featuring durable materials and smart design details for the modern traveler.
• Valentino: Based in Rome, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Romantic and couture-inspired designs, iconic "Rockstud" detailing, and Italian craftsmanship.
• Valextra: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Sleek and minimalist designs with a focus on fine craftsmanship and premium materials.
• Versace: Based in Milan, Italy. Made in Italy. Known for: Bold and glamorous designs, iconic Medusa logo, and luxury Italian craftsmanship.
• Wandler: Based in Amsterdam, Netherlands. Made in Italy. Known for: Sculptural and modern handbags with clean lines and bold shapes.
• Wicker Darling: Based in Bali, Indonesia. Made in Indonesia. Known for: Handwoven wicker bags and accessories with a bohemian aesthetic.
• Yu Mei: Based in Wellington, New Zealand. Made in New Zealand. Known for: Modern and functional leather bags designed for everyday use.
• Yuzefi: Based in London, UK. Made in Spain. Known for: Bold and sculptural designs with a focus on artisanal craftsmanship and unexpected details.
• Zadig & Voltaire: Based in Paris, France. Made in Europe. Known for: Rock 'n' roll inspired designs, edgy and urban style, and luxurious materials.
• Zarah Juan: Based in Manila, Philippines. Made in the Philippines. Known for: Handwoven bags and accessories that celebrate Filipino culture and tradition.
• 3.1 Phillip Lim: Based in New York, USA. Made in China and other locations. Known for: Modern and sophisticated designs, combining luxury with street-style influences, offering contemporary handbags and accessories.

I hope you found this fun! Happy to edit this list for any ones that I missed!

I have issues just like most people, but mine aren't about being misogynist or lazy. My issues are that I work a lot (owner), sometimes letting work bleed into my personal time. I can be emotionally shut off at times, and I'm not great at getting my kids dressed or doing their hair before events. I procrastinate on large projects. I'm self-deprecating and aware of my faults. If my wife criticizes me for these things, I agree with her.
However, I am good at working hard, staying busy and involved, helping my kids with school and sports, cleaning up around the house, and ensuring my family has the means to do what they want financially and time-wise.
Being Lazy
My wife often tells people I am lazy and don't clean up, which is not true. I spend at least an hour every day cleaning, sometimes several hours once a week or two. I contribute about 40% to household cleaning compared to her 60% (she's a stay-at-home mom, and I work full-time). I handle tasks like cooking, changing cat litter boxes, doing dishes, paying bills, arranging professional services, cleaning stains off the floor, transporting clothes to/from the laundry, cleaning the bathroom, taking out the trash, wiping down windows and mirrors, sweeping, mopping, organizing things, my own laundry, removing trash and dishes from everyone's rooms, and taking the kids to school and activities.
Despite this, she tells people I'm like her third child who needs everything done for him, which is a complete mischaracterization. It's also extremely rude to say to people about me. I'm proud of who I am and how hard I work -- to have it shot down like that is wild to me. When we first met over a decade ago, I was messy, but I've changed significantly and have different priorities now. I know I share nearly as much responsibility as her in maintaining our household.If I ever mention something she didn't do or did wrong, it turns into an all-day fight.
I'm timid, I don't fight, and I never nitpick her (unless I'm aggravated and finally let out some kind of criticism back after she hammers me for days), yet she nitpicks me daily without me being allowed to take offense.
Being a Misogynist
My wife accuses me of mansplaining whenever I explain something to her. If there's a tool she doesn't know how to use or if I have thoughts on something, she calls it mansplaining. I cannot explain anything to her with it being called mansplaining. She portrays me as a husband who just works and then comes home to do nothing, which isn't true. My only free time is an hour after midnight once everyone is asleep.
She watches a lot of TikTok videos on self-worth and lazy husbands, and applies things she sees there to me. While she is welcome to her own opinions, if they aren't at all realistic, I can't just lay down and take that. She compares me to husbands who truly do nothing at home, which is far from my reality. I don't mind everything I contribute, but it's frustrating when my efforts are not just ignored, but I'm told I do the exact opposite. I feel gaslit. She does this with everyone in her life really -- she says she needs to focus on her and that people are toxic and taking away from that. And when I tell her what she is doing, she tells me I am gaslighting her.
I'm not perfect, but I have always valued women as equals, if not superior to many men in a lot of ways. I was raised this way and do not believe in traditional gender roles. I support women in the workplace and their ability to live their own lives and desires. I make fun of toxic masculinity and I always tell people I'm happy to have daughters. I'm like the only socially liberal minded man I know in a sea of conservative men around here who are actually like she describes.
This situation keeps getting worse, and I don't know what to do to make it stop. Thanks for any advice!

Detective Crawford said that the location of the bookbag looked as though it had been thrown from a moving vehicle. (Or perhaps that someone parked their car on the side of Highway 18 and simply tossed the bag out as far as they could throw?)
Sounds to me like the killer was quickly trying to discard the bag, as if they were in a panic. Double wrapped it in trash bags trying to conceal its identity, and in such a frenzy that they forgot to remove the slip of paper containing Asha's name and phone number that was in the bag (which helped identify that the bag was hers).
Throws it 25 miles away from Asha's home in an area where trash is commonly disposed, that way if the bag is discovered, it shifts the attention and focus in the opposite direction from where Asha lived and went to school.
I think that someone a bit more experienced or methodical would've simply burned the bag or destroyed it. The way that it was discarded, with all contents kept inside and sloppily concealed in a trash bag suggests to me someone the person who got rid of the bag was frantic, as if they knew or felt were considered a suspect and thus had to get rid of that backpack. Didn't matter where or how, just get rid of the bag.
I'm thinking back to how Harold mentioned in the 911 phone call that Asha's bag and purse went missing, without even being solicited that information. It's almost as if it was hurriedly mentioned by him to help establish the runaway theory, and Harold knew that he and his wife would be considered suspects by law enforcement / the home would be searched and thus knew that the backpack had to be removed from the home premises as soon as possible. Plus, Harold and Iquilla stated that they accurately described all of the contents in the backpack, including two items (NKOTB nightgown and McEllington's Pool book) which didn't belong to Asha.
The bag was found in August of 2001, so it didn't have to be thrown out on the night that Asha disappeared. Plenty of time to throw some random shit in there.