Post
As the title says, my newly leased 2024 Kona N Line has had its battery die twice within a week at around 1500 miles on the car. The car has performed perfectly normal before this happened.
Timeline:
The first time the battery died was May 7: I went to go drive it after leaving the car unused since May 5. The key fob didn’t work to get into the car, so I assumed the key fob was dead, but I was wrong. Roadside assistance jumped the car and I drove it to my dealership where they performed tests on it to conclude that the battery wasn’t able to hold a charge (bad battery), and they told me nothing was draining the battery, so a new battery would be fine.
The following are tests from the invoice to help people understand what they did. They started by testing the battery with a CADEX SPECTRO MODULAR BATTERY TESTER giving a result that the battery needed to be recharged and tested again. They recharged the battery for 1 hour and retested. Result was battery needed to be recharged once more. They then performed GDS-M BATTERY TEST PER TSB# 24-EE-002H and result returned battery code R02 (BATTERY DETERIORATION CONDITION IDENTIFIED). They then replaced the battery. There are no remarks in the invoice for testing for battery drain, but I was told verbally they tested for that.
I drove the car home on 5/10, parked it and left it parked until 5/12 when I went to drive it again. The car was again dead, but this time the key fob did unlock the car, but that was all the juice the car battery had because it didn’t start. Roadside assistance jumped it again, and I drove it to the dealership. They got back to me today (5/15) stating that they left the car untouched from 5/13 to 5/15 and the car turned on. They have stated they’ve run more tests with no conclusions.
At this point, I don’t know if they will determine what it is. They questioned whether I’m leaving the car in accessory mode by hitting the push to start button twice at shutoff (I’m not, this isn’t my first push to start, and I got through 6 weeks without an issue). I’m using BlueLink connected to my phone and the car is receiving over the air updates through BlueLink. I don’t use any third party apps with the car, which they asked if I am doing. I don’t leave anything plugged in.
I’m looking for any advice from anyone who has experienced something similar that I can pass along to my service advisor.
Would a recall of my vehicle ever be considered, or would they just say there’s no issue and I’m crazy?
I will update this post if I hear from the dealership.

TW: blood, blood drawn, gagging
So i know i have anxiety and i know its bad but today i got my blood drawn and that experience made me think.
My usual with gettin blood drawn is getting scared, thinkin im gonna faint, being fine after, i thought today would be like that too but it was different. I went in expecting my usuals, i had my partner come with me for support.
When i went to the room with the lady, i have her my paper and i started freaking out. I told her i hate getting these done and i hate how it feels. She said it cant hurt more than my piercings and tattoos, which is true but i still was so scared. I started making panic sounds and talking about how i hate it and she said i was workin myself up.
As she put the needle in i was talking with her and my s/o about applebees and pizza hut to try to distract myself, then i started seeing spots and my hearing faded out. I told her i felt woozy and my head started slumping a bit. She told me to keep talking, asked my name and my favorite music, i was barely able to talk. She tapped my face a few times and i dont remember like anything else between then and her taking the needle out, once the needle was out it was like my senses came back, i remember burping and gagging which scared me because im emetophobic, but i didnt throw up. She kept turning my head toward the trash can but nothing happened. I also was way way sweatier after i came to, i wasnt sweaty before.
Then she gave me a juice box, i sat for a minute and felt fine again. She said i was so anxious and worked myself up so much but i felt like it wasn’t anxiety. I really felt like i was gonna faint when she was doing it but pretty much immediately after i was fine. Was all of that really anxiety ????? I dont take any medicine for it, should i ??? Im not scared of needles, seeing the blood in the vials didnt scare me, seeing the part she took the blood from didnt scare me, why was i so anxious ????

The Cenacle 124 April 2024 29^th Anniversary Issue
https://scriptorpress.com/cenacle/124
[Size = 13.6 MB]
Hello everyone,
Here comes the just-released Cenacle 124 April 2024. Returning to the desired quarterly issue cadence that has been missing for the past couple of years. It was hard doing this issue without the usual many years’ involvement of my dear poet friend, the late Judih Weinstein Haggai, but her poetry features in this issue nonetheless, & will remain so in each issue ever on.
Thus far, 2024 for the human world has been a fairly dark one. The global Pandemic has not ended, though millions risk sickness & death for themselves & others by choosing to join in a kind of mass amnesia about the crisis. Meanwhile, the climate crisis continues to get the same kind of hostile indifference. The genocide in Gaza goes on unabated by any of the many powerful & supposedly democratic nations of the world. And a likely felon has jazzed the US electoral process, its weaknesses & flaws among its many strengths, to be within reach of again taking over &, as he has vowed, taking revenge.
I can’t tell you that this literary journal operates toe to toe on the global scale to oppose these various human catastrophes, but I can say that if we don’t seek Beauty, & Nature, & look beyond the petty fuckeries of the current day, we are much more likely to be lost than if we find a way to do this.
This fine anniversary issue features new poetry by Tamara Miles, Martina Reisz Newberry, Colin James, Sam Knot, Jimmy Heffernan, Judih Weinstein Haggai, & myself.
Also new fiction by Timothy Vilgiate, Algernon Beagle, & myself. And classic fiction from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
And new prose pieces by Nathan D. Horowitz, Charlie Beyer, & myself.
There is also new graphic artwork by AbandonView, Epi Rogan, Louis Staeble, Kassandra Soulard, Sam Knot, Tamara Miles, & Nathan D. Horowitz.
Contents of this new issue include:
From Soulard’s Notebooks [Excerpt]
I find myself leaning back often into 3 questions that I believe most influence human psychology & human culture:
1) Why are we here?
2) Where are we from?
3) What are we supposed to be doing?
* * * * * *
Feedback on Cenacle 123 [Excerpt]
I made it to the first poem by Judih Weinstein Haggai, sank into it, breathed it, needed it, and couldn’t go further into the issue yet. But it’s beautiful. And Kassandra Soulard’s cover photo: wow.
(Tamara Miles)
* * * * * *
From the ElectroLounge Forums:
Selections from Unknot 24, Part 1[Excerpt]
A project that I expect to work on for the rest of my life and never finish is a kind of art project playing with meaning making and the first few layers of knots, so this is all part of that really. I suppose it is a way to give a kind of focus or even kind of “abstract grounding” to some other kind of activity which isn’t necessarily even directly related to or about it.
(Sam Knot)
* * * * * *
Haiku from a Silent Retreat (7/31/2021) [Excerpt]
by Judih Weinstein Haggai
Everybody!
Are you everybody?
I’m not either
* * * * * *
Notes from New England:
Dream Raps, Volume Thirteen [Excerpt]
by Raymond Soulard, Jr.
Now that my friends are gone, the very shy Creatures who sometimes visit my hovel begin to come out, sniffing friendly their hellos. Accept my offer to cluster with me under the blankets, them being cold as ever when outside of the White Woods. White Bunny, Hedgedyhog, Peppermint Bears, Kittees & their Friend Fish. Alvinarah Poesy, & his dear friend Naria Narwhal. Even that cackling little Imp is under there somewhere. They never stay long, but I love them passing through. They’re excited about the Rutabaga Festival & Fleastock in the White Woods, I’m guessing.
* * * * * *
Becoming Archaeology: A Eulogy for Living Moor. (Part Two) [Excerpt]
by Sam Knot
It moves me more than any painting
or poem, seems to encode more meaning,
personal & planetary, than any other art,
this simple offering. This intricate gift.
* * * * * *
Notes Toward Many Musics [Excerpt]
by Raymond Soulard, Jr.
I believe a Narrative should always lead with the best it has, its most potent moment or image or the like. And let this lead set its standard. When I think of the Narrative options for these poems, I come back every time to starting from the start. These poems build on years & years of the work it took to get the six Brother-Heroes reunited rightly, after telling their unique stories as rightly as possible too. I did the best thinking & writing that I could.
* * * * * *
Poetry by Martina Newberry [Excerpt]
Tall on the dirty stage,
from my notebook I conferred
my poems. No time limit,
no faces, noises of shifting
dust and cars out there somewhere,
I read for many minutes,
emoting here and there,
hands rising and falling,
singing through some.
* * * * * *
Rivers of the Mind (A Novel) [Excerpt]
by Timothy Vilgiate
I could not help but fear that he’d attack me as I laid there; I lost count of how many times I got up to check my locks or to peek underneath the bed. I turned over and over, rocking the mattress like an unsteady boat, straining to keep my eyes shut. It was no use. Midnight came, and I was still awake; my hair matted over my irritated face, my blanket clutched in between my hands over my mouth as I tried to stop myself from sobbing. But I couldn’t let it see me cry. I couldn’t let it even see me blink.
* * * * * *
Poetry by Tamara Miles [Excerpt]
A lion’s music—a carnival of sound, beyond the roar of reserve, park, zoo, circus, and
safari, the wild kingdom beyond the definition of safe and unsafe, cruel or kind, in
sub-Saharan Africa, or in India, Gir forest, where the heart beat and drum beat and
incense are heavy.
* * * * * *
The Lagoon of the Air Goblins (Travel Journal) [Excerpt]
by Nathan D. Horowitz
I’m dehydrated from the sun today. I haven’t rehydrated. My hydration’s out of wack. It seems an eternity, maybe two, since I ordered a glass of papaya juice. Inside the café, mysterious café things may be happening, involving blenders and workforce and fruit and power. Time’s ticking by and it sounds like trees falling into a river. I glance at the red and white checkered tablecloth and remember I’ve always hated red and white checkered patterns. Serafín the educator said he would meet me here to tell me about the Secoya cosmovision, and he isn’t showing up.
* * * * * *
Poetry by Colin James [Excerpt]
Episodically craved by adolescents,
Prometheus displays his tats
behind The Dollar Store in Bonita.
The one with the plastic pillars.
* * * * * *
Mad Jack (Prose) [Excerpt]
by Charlie Beyer
We were longhaired teenage criminals. I looked like Jesus and my best buddy had flaming red shoulder-length hair, the devil to rival my divine look. Scott the Red. We were all hair, except Mad Jack (or Bob, as I knew him), who was as shaved as a plastic bag. We all sat in the car outside the 7-11 in the night rain. Blue smoke trickled out of the cracked window. Inside was a haze of marijuana smoke tainted with opium. We were high and crazed.
* * * * * *
Poetry by Jimmy Heffernan [Excerpt]
The moment to which we have access
So Nature can “see” through time
And what is this but awareness?
A tunneling from the immediate future
Back into the present
* * * * * *
Bags End Book #21: What is the Creature Carnival? Part 3 (Fiction) [Excerpt]
by Algernon Beagle
It makes me remember how our teacher Mister Owl in Bags End teached how different places have their different ways of thinking & telling. So if you’re gonna watch a Creature production, whether it’s the Carnival, or a Grand Production, or this time both, you’re gonna be in 4or a good crazy ride.
* * * * * *
The Hound of the Baskervilles (Classic Fiction) [Excerpt]
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-headed, of the sort which is known as a “Penang lawyer.” Just under the head was a broad silver band nearly an inch across. “To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.,” was engraved upon it, with the date “1884.” It was just such a stick as the oldfashioned family practitioner used to carry—dignified, solid, and reassuring.
* * * * * *
Labyrinthine [A New Fixtion] [Excerpt]
by Raymond Soulard, Jr.
I’m distracted just as this strange fellow appears on stage with some kind of tool in his hand. He is very fancily dressed, some kind of home-made tuxedo? Or one sewn from many scraps? And he starts to recite a poem, I think, in a tongue I don’t know, when something distracts me.
Peace,
Raymond Soulard, Jr.
Scriptor Press New England
scriptorpress.com
[editor@scriptorpress.com](mailto:editor@scriptorpress.com)

Content warning: Trauma
I got my first IUD on Friday. I had never had a pap or examine (32 yr) and have always felt guilty about being behind on preventative health care. I have also exclusively used withdraw since I was 18. I have only been in long term relationships and when the birth control conversation inevitably came up in the beginning of each, I would bristle. It would follow the ceasing of condom use and come with the implication that we (I) should be more responsible about birth control. I resented the suggestion that I alone should be responsible for altering my body to accommodate a man's, even my partner's, pleasure because they would rather not wear condoms and don't want to pull out. The idea of bearing the full burden of responsibility by inserting a foreign object in my body, in my most intimate organ has always insensed me on a fundamental level. But in truth, I always felt guilty for depriving my partner. and when friends would rebuke my choices as reckless- I don't know how many times I've been told I must be infertile if I haven't become pregnant yet while not using birth control. So when I went for my first exam, I thought it might be wise to do the responsible thing that I've felt urged to do from all fronts.
I wasn't nervous. In fact I saw it as a challenge to overcome. I listened to the information given to me during the consultarion. I felt like I had enough of a grasp of what was going to happen. I was offered xanax and lidocaine, but it was implied that lidocaine could be just as painful. I don't feel I was discouraged necessarily, but I felt it was not being encouraged. I wish I would have taken both offers instead of just the ibuprofen.
I was told of the potential pain and range of variable experience, that some women have felt the pain of insertion worse than child birth. But everyone that knows me knows that I have a high pain tolerance. And so say many women I imagine. The doctor told me I might have a "whoosh" experience, which I understood to mean fainting. I still didn't feel much fear leading up to the procedure.
I was told how the procedure would go, the assessment, the speculum, the measuring and the insertion. I was surprised by the size of the model iuds, though I'm not sure what I was expecting. I thought I understood the sounding- I didn't. I had no idea about the tenaculum. Once the examine was rolling it seemed all previously mentioned anxiety and pain management were off the table unless I insisted they stop.
I was uncomfortable from the beginning and realized I was in for an unpleasant experience if I couldn't get myself to relax. The resident MD was being coached by the doctor. I heard them discussing the tilt of my uterus as she seemingly went rutting around for my cervix. Even the cotton swab was painful. They brought in a nurse to squeeze my hand and try to distract me with idle conversation. He was a literal angel and I wouldn't have been able even attempt to mask the agony without him there.
I knew it could be painful but I had no idea. I have only ever heard of the "pinch" and some menstrual like cramps. I had only ever heard from women that had had relatively uncomplicated insertions with moderate pain if any.
The insertion was the single most excruciating event of my life. It is still so surreal as my mind is already trying to protect me from the memory days later. I was close to screaming but tried hard to laugh through the agony out of embarrassment and not wanting to make the doctors feel bad. I wish I had blacked out but I was acutely aware of every sensation. At peak pain, I did something I would normally never do and said "This Really Hurts". I can't put into words how much but I know some reading this may understand.
It felt like it lasted ages but eventually it was over. I felt absolutely broken. I was able to sit up even though I was in severe pain and all I could feel was my wrecked cervical canal and the device inside of me. I was able to dress and have some juice that was brought to me. The angel nurse came and sat with me some more to make sure I was okay. I was not, there was no position I could sit or stand in for relief but I again tried to put on a brave face, for a moment.
I felt delirious trying to make conversation and I suddenly realized I was sweating profusely. I informed him I needed to get undressed again. He suggested I lay back down. Terrible, no. I put my head under the faucet. My pelvis was screaming. Standing was awful. I hobbled to the bathroom across the hall and immediately took my shirt off again, more water. I felt like I needed to shit and puke. The pain was getting worse and worse so I weakly crossed the hall again shirtless back to the bed. Now the staff were concerned and coming to assist me.
I spent the next HOUR in pain again, nearly as bad as the procedure. Charlie horse level cramps all over from the waste down, the worst of which concentrated in my cervix. Fever chills and aches like the worst food poisoning/stomach virus you've ever had. The muscles in my hips were screaming and moving was not an option. I had ice packs on my head and warm packs all around my waste. I wondered if my body was in full assault mode against a perceived foreign invader. I am pretty sure I was in shock. I was hypotensive the whole time while a new nurse monitored my vitals. I struggled to respond to any one verbally.
The doctor overseeing the insertion swung by, placed pressure on my lower stomach and asked if it hurt. Yes. You're not gushing blood though are you? No. I don't recall him saying much else before a left again. Later, when delivering my exit consultation he reminded me of the "whoosh" sensation he'd told me about and explained thats what I had just experienced for the last hour and that it was not uncommon.
I felt like I was nailed to that bed for hours pouring sweat and trying everything to avoid the pain in my entire body. Eventually I noticed my breaths were finally seeming to connect back to my heart rate. I started coming back to life and immediately asked the new nurse if she knew why male birth control options were not available in the US after decades. She flatly responded, the patriarchy. I told her I had used tracking and withdraw for the past 14 years and I wasn't sure what I had just done to my body was necessary. She agreed, tracking could be a viable planning option she said. I still hadn't shed a tear during this ordeal.
Tears were to come and to come repeatedly in the following days, every time I remember anything about what happened. I was depleted and deeply depressed. I feel hurt and violated and alone. I'm not mad at any one in particular. I mad on the whole that we are made to feel we have an obligation to bravely endure Why?
The pain largely subsided after the worst of it but I could, and still can, feel the IUD inside me. I hope that awareness goes away and I can eventually forget it's there and what I went through for it. I was starting to feel better today until I got my medical report in my email. Notes for post procedure: "patient tolerated procedure well."
I am so beyond hurt and angry. This has to be a mistake? I've left voice messages with the clinic. This is very important for me that this is corrected, for my record and the larger record. I found it so hard to find stories like mine outside of this forum. Are they going unreported? How common is this? What are these statistics that are published?
I'm mad and exhausted and I hurt for anyone who had also experienced this. I want to hear your stories of your experiences, even if they were more fortunate than mine.
I don't not recommend getting any IUD, but I won't recommend it, at least not without pain management. do yourself the favor. But I feel more opposed to the concept now than ever before. I won't accept that this is the best option available in this day and age. Really?

We don’t drive and my son is large for his age and therefore it’s a real workout to push around in the pram so this is getting to be a bit of a nightmare.

• ‘get down on their level and give calm instructions’ My son outright refuses to listen and continues trying to run away. I always give the instruction outside the shop or before we leave the house too, while he’s calm, but it goes in one ear and out the other.
  
• ‘get them to hold your hand’ He refuses, even with all the positive reinforcement in the world. Sometimes he will hold my hand for the first few seconds of crossing the road then scream and tear his hand away. I am left with the option of grabbing his wrist/hand tightly or (if I have time) hauling him under my arm until we’re at the other side of the road.
  
• ‘don’t run after them’ If I stand still all that happens is he runs farther into the distance / into the road / disappears into the next aisle of the crowded supermarket without fear. This is obviously very dangerous.
  
• ‘get them to “help” with the shopping’ I make an effort to do this every time we’re out. He put some broccoli in the basket for me today, and when I bought him some juice he put it on the counter all by himself. If you give my son a hand though, he takes an arm. Before you know it he’s wanting to take every other thing off the shelf. He will also defiantly try to pull me in his desired direction right after doing a nice helpful exercise, or just run away.
  
• ‘offer other opportunities to run’ He has plenty - at home, in the garden, in the park, in his classes etc. even if I explain to him that we can run later at home, he doesn’t care
  
• ‘Use a harness’ My son hates being restrained in any way. We tried to use reigns from an early age, when he started walking over a year ago. It worked a little when he was smaller but quickly dissolved into him being a screaming, writhing mass on the floor every time we put the reigns on. I am close to trying reigns again, though I know exactly how it’s gonna go.
  

At the moment, I run and pick him up when he runs away, and keep him under my arm for a minute or two cause he hates that, then I put him down and calmly explain how I need him to behave. We also have a short, clear chat about how to behave before entering the shop. I praise him a lot when he does hold my hand but it’s really not made a difference.

-Jack
Every kid growing up in Gympie in the early 90- 2000s knew about the Love Tunnel.
The love tunnel was located over the hill from the skatepark on the Riverbank. It was a massive storm water drain filled with spray paint and lore unbound throughout the generations; the glowing dick, whose name is the furthest in, the people who live inside, the bull shark that lived under the bridge just outside, all that fun stuff.
It collapsed in the late 2000’s in a flood and was eventually rebuilt, but it was all fancy, modern, safe and not the same. Back in the day it had decades of graffiti, crumbling cement, jagged metal pole framing bent and jutting out from the sides. You know, real character.
I remember when I was just a kid at the skatepark and I spotted a bunch of other kids at the metal grating of a drain. I joined them and gazed down a few metres to some older teenagers, they had trekked through this “love tunnel” under the massive hill all this way. Badass I thought. LEGENDARY.
I talked about it at school, about this mysterious “love tunnel”. It was in view from the road when I crossed the bridge everyday on my daily commutes from the backseat of mums car.
I would gaze down at the weir and see the top of the love tunnel, sliightly hidden from view by a hill. It fascinated me.
I learned all these mysterious tales; this person slept with this person there, someone took a dump at the entrance and some other girl stood in it and now she had a nickname, someone found needles, another found a homeless woman and she screamed at them. I was pumped for the next weekend. I was going to go see it for myself.
I saw too much.
Early Saturday morning I was riding my push bike through town and toward destination adventure! I started out at the skatepark, met up with a few of the regulars, a mix of 5-19y/o everyone on the half pipes and ramps had a code of comrady that I've never found in a public place anywhere else and you always had someone to hang with.
My usual crew slowly arrived through the morning, a bunch of other 10/11 year old misfits like myself and we headed on our first place on our journey, Hungry Jacks. Now we never technically stole, we found a loophole…
One or two would order a stunner meal, then we'd take privilege of the free refills and fill up the empty plastic 4L juice jugs that we all had prepped in our backpacks. Coke and red Fanta for days.
So we got our supplies and headed behind HJ, past the volleyball courts and headed down a bush track down to the river.
We walked along the banks to loop back down to where the bridge was, we passed a few teenagers fishing and a couple other groups of kids swinging from rope swings into the water or huddled in groups smoking things they shouldn't.
We eventually arrived at the weir and the stormwater drain that I had been so intrigued by. The Love Tunnel.
Climbing up the hill and seeing it up close when you were just a tiny human. It was like staring into the dark abyss of hell.
There was a small stream of water flowing out of the big grey cylinder and it was covered in multicolored quotes and crude pictures that was very eye opening at the time.
Our voices echoed as one by one we climbed up the grassy, eroding clay edging that was the makeshift path into the mouth that probably changed each time it rained. Each of us had pulled out clumps of grass that we thought were handholds. If you fell, you fell down an embankment of slippery jagged rocks poking out from the fast flowing river.
So were inside and began to walk a couple of metres in then around us the light abruptly disappeared into complete darkness. And I remember the way the sounds traveled you could feel it through your chest it was mesmerizing.
I remember bravely stepping into the darkness and taking five or six steps in. That thick darkness was something else, I ran myself back to that entrance and light, heart pounding from the adrenaline.
This turned into a game of who could go in the furthest. This stopped when one of the boys screamed out from the darkness in pain.
He was back in the light teary eyed a few moments later wet on one side and feigning a laugh. He'd slipped down and cut open his knee, it was hilarious. We teased him saying he was going to get gangrene and leprosy and a myriad of other ailments we had no idea actually was.
We decided to bail, we forgot torches, we didn't plan that part out too well, and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon being little menaces.
We met the next day with a game plan, we had an array of various sized torches, from small ones that didn't do anything, one of those giant rectangle ones that was our main light source, a couple of handheld ones, one which flickered and the other stopped working before we even got into the tunnel.
We got in safely and tested out our torches and began walking into the unknown. It was pretty much the same as before, but there were strange things, old makeshift bongs, shopping bags, random shoes, a shopping trolley, a mattress that was all moldy and rotted. I still to this day do not understand how people managed to get that shit in there.
We passed a section where someone had thrown a can of red paint all over the walls, the amount of those ‘S’ symbols was more terrifying.
We saw light up ahead, we were passing our first grate. It was kind of daunting looking up towards it. Even getting on each other's shoulders we couldn't reach. There was an array of broken beer bottles and glass was everywhere, under the grate was a dead snake amongst some debris.
We had a debate whether to go further, we ended up going on at least until the next grate, we came to a fork, one seemed like a smaller offshoot so we stuck to the bigger side.
There were more offshoots and we came to a part where the big pipes split off into three under another grate. We gazed up hoping to get an identifier of our location, but all we could see was blue. We called out to see if we could get anyone's attention.
“Cooooweeee” we shouted in unison, the sound echoing in all directions.
We were laughing and having a grand time until something shouted back, something that still shakes me to my core to this day.
Some yobbo crackhead chick in her fifties with this ratty pink tank top that was all stretched half showing her saggy titties. “What the fuck you think you little cunts doing down here.” This chick screeched at us through her few teeth or something along the lines of that. She just exploded at us with a barrage of threats.
We were shocked silenced moving together to make one mass.
One of the boys screamed when a skinny guy emerged from the darkness. He was covered in tattoos with scraggly hair and a beard, he was all crazy eyed and pantless.
Someone yelled out to run and it was all the motivation we needed.
We could hear them screaming and the guy ran after us, we heard glass shattering behind us, they must have thrown a bottle. We were legging it.
We got split up in our running, I fell down, tripping over some rubbish, one mate stayed back to help me, this left us without a torch. We came across the same kid who slipped over yesterday, he had slipped down again cutting open his other knee. He wore those with badges of honor at school, but he was blubbering like a baby at this point.
He had the flickering torch and it disoriented us more than helped, as it turned on and off every time he took a step. I thought we were lost but we found the other grate, then eventually the entrance.
The others were already climbed down, we were soon by their side panting in the grass and wiping away our tears so the others couldn't see.
We ran back over to the skatepark and immediately told every kid we saw.
That was the wildest shit we had ever experienced. Sure we’d seen crazy up on the street but to have it jump out at you from the shadows in a storm water drain was next level.
By that night one of the other boys had spilled to his parents about our escapades and a couple of other mums got phone calls, three got in trouble, two of us didn't, including me.
I never stepped foot back in that tunnel, I swam at the weir more times than I could count afterwards though and never encountered anyone else too sketchy.
I think only a year or two later I saw on the news people dying in storm water drains somewhere else in Aus, we never realized how dangerous they could be back then. Lol.
Every party or get together afterwards it was a crowd favorite to bring up. It was a good conversation starter and joined the tales amongst my friends of the weird shit that happens in ‘Helltown’.
Growing up and looking back they were probably just homeless drug addicts freaked out from a bunch of children's voices yelling out coooweee from the underground where they thought they were alone. That would have scared the shit outta me if I was them.
Good times.
.VJ - in 2012 two women tragically passed away when they were exploring the tunnels and got swept away when a wild storm cell hit. Pictures of the upgraded version of the 'love tunnel' can be found in corresponding news articles.

PART ONE THOUSAND AND TWELVE
[Previous Chapter] [The Beginning] [Patreon+2]
Sunday
Lucas stretched and yawned in bed, taking a moment to enjoy the complete lack of needing to rise before his hand stretched out in search of Boyd.
And once again, that side of the bed was empty.
Biting back a whine of dismay, Lucas rolled until he was face down on Boyd’s pillow, breathing in the cologne they both now wore. The detective in him quickly deduced that Boyd had been gone a while based on the chill in the sheets. He curled his hands around the pillow and hugged it tight, wishing it was the big mountain of a man himself instead of this weak substitute.
As thrilled as he was about Boyd finding a new career that he was so passionately driven about, he was equally happy that his fiancé took his responsibility to his clients seriously. Still, would it have killed him to sleep in just one morning instead of abandoning their wrecked bed the morning after their engagement party?
After several minutes of wallowing, he finally accepted the inevitable that no amount of wishful thinking was going to make Boyd appear and climbed out of bed. He removed his snore rings and took a quick shower.
Once he was dressed, he felt a little better.
The next thing he had to do was strip down the bed and remake it. They’d been very busy last night, which was why he’d only just woken up at—his gaze fell upon the clock— DAMN! It’s nearly lunchtime!
“I’m gonna kill him for letting me sleep in so long,” he muttered under his breath, carrying the linen through the apartment and into the kitchen, which doubled as a laundry on their end. After nine years of living in this layout, he didn’t need to see over the pile in his arms to know precisely where he was, and with the load balanced on one arm, he turned at the right moment, opened the massive frontloading washing machine and stuffed it all in.
“Hey, Unca Luke!” Maddy’s shrill voice had him leaping into the air, slamming the door shut and swivelling around in front of it to hide the evidence. “Didja pee the bed?”
His brother and his niece were sitting at the island, Maddy with her breakfast of honey-and-cream-covered waffles, which were only half-eaten, and Levi patiently waited for her to finish since the plate in front of him was empty. The latter was grinning at him as only a brother could.
He’d forgotten all about them staying over.
It took a hot second for what Maddy asked to register with him, and when it did, his mouth dropped, and he glanced at his brother, who was twisting himself into a pretzel to avoid laughing out loud. Asshole. “No, Peaches,” he said, glaring daggers at Levi for not even trying to help him out. “Boyd and I like clean sheets every day, and it’s not fair to make somebody else wash them for us, is it?”
Bright red ringlets of hair swayed as the little girl shook her head. “Daddy makes me fix stuff too.”
Lucas moved the three feet between the washing machine to his brother sitting in Mason’s seat at the corner. “That’s because Daddies always know what’s best.” He wrapped an arm around his brother’s neck in a loose chokehold and gave him a noisy morning kiss on the cheek. “Ain’t that right, Daddy?” He said that last word in a sultry purr the way Robbie would, and the reaction from Levi was priceless.
“Fuck off with that shit, you prick!” his brother swore, shoving Lucas away with all his might.
“DADDY!” Maddy squealed in horror, and Lucas clapped his hands together once behind Maddy’s chair and raised his clenched fists in victory. He’d been angling for one swear word, maybe two to distract young Maddy from his not-so-discreet linen run. Three was a veritable home run.
Snickering quietly to himself, he went back to the washing machine, loaded it up with soap and softener and turned it on. Then, he walked over to the wooden box under the window. ‘Just think what you want,’ Charlie had told him at the party. ‘It’s a Nascerdios box that Robbie fills up throughout the night.’
He stared hard at the box while he considered his options, settling on a plate of breakfast tacos with seasoned mince, fried eggs, tomatillos, shredded lettuce, and cheese wrapped in soft tortillas buttered with a thin spread of mashed avocado.
After the last month, it didn’t surprise him in the least when he opened the lid and found that exact meal sitting there, waiting for him. Maybe the quantity, since they were piled three high, but not the meal itself.
The same could not be said for Levi when Lucas turned around with the plate in his hand. “Robbie had that ready for you too?” he asked, as Lucas grabbed a glass from the cupboard and placed it and the plate in his regular sitting place adjacent to his brother before sliding into his seat. He knew Levi wasn’t questioning Viola since the box itself was made and gifted by someone with the last name Nascerdios.
The veil was an ass.
“I told you; he did most of the catering yesterday, too,” Lucas said, reaching for the jug of juice. He was curious what it would be today. Yesterday, it had been orange and mango juice, with apple the day before.
A quick sniff made it most likely grapefruit.
He tightened the roll on the first taco and lifted it to his lips, enjoying the flavours that exploded in his mouth. Because Levi had finished whatever had been on his plate, he was watching him eat as if he’d never seen it before. It finally clicked why. “You want to try one?” Lucas asked, nudging his plate towards his brother. “There’s plenty here if you want one. Too many, if anything.”
Levi didn’t need to be told twice and reached over, using his fingers just as Lucas had. “How did he learn to cook so well?” Levi demanded, almost fitting the whole thing in his mouth.
“He’s always cooked,” Lucas answered, fudging things slightly. “When he was growing up, cooking was his chore while his mom was at work. He only stopped because Mom refused to let him help in the kitchen.”
“I would’ve fought that a lot harder if I’d have known he could produce this.”
“Yeah, you and me both, bro. Even when we were upstairs, he was forever watching the cooking channels for new ideas.” Lucas didn’t want to mention that these days, Robbie only did so to critique the so-called experts. “Have you seen Boyd?”
Levi shook his head. “I was assuming he was still in with you. If I’d known you were in there alone, I’d have sicc’d Maddy onto you.”
“I can wake Daddy and Unca’ Austin good!” Maddy said proudly. “I gets me a dolla’.”
“Ssshhh, Peaches. That’s out secr—wait. Does Uncle Austin pay you, too?”
Maddy was adorable the way she looked at Lucas like he would intervene for her. “Sorry, baby girl,” he laughed, eating another taco. “You’re on your own.”
The two brothers bantered as Lucas ate, with Levi stealing another taco, bringing Lucas’ total number down to five. Maddy told them both about wanting to be a vet, and Lucas knew precisely who to blame for that. Still, it was better than her previous choice of ‘stripping’ the way Robbie and Angelo used to. Levi’s meltdown over that revelation had been priceless, even if he, too, was firmly in the ‘fuck that noise’ camp.
When he polished them and half the juice off, he poured the last into Maddy’s cup and put his things and the jug in the dishwasher. “You can hang out here if you want,” Lucas said. “The guys and I are heading out this afternoon to play some ball over at Angus’ place, but if you call Austin and find out Pepper’s roommate is still with him, the TV over there has…”
“Every cable channel imaginable, I know. Charlotte—”
“Charlie.”
“Charlie told us last night.” Levi sat back in his seat and stared at his brother. “What do you make of Larry, Luke? Does he have kids?”
“Why?”
“He watched Maddy for me last night while I was having a shower, and Maddy loves him. You know how picky she is about people she doesn’t know.”
“I know he’s married to a career soldier and was one too before being assigned to us. I’m not sure about his past, but he’s a good guy and ridiculously protective of those either in his charge or that he happens to care about.”
Levi grunted. “Charl*—lie* said so too. He certainly knows his Spongebob.”
Lucas squinted. “Why all the questions?”
“Just thinking out loud. If he’s going to be here all the time with Robbie, and Austin and I get called into the house together, it’s always been a struggle figuring out where we can leave Maddy on short notice. We don’t exactly have time to drive all the way over to Queens to drop her off at either Mav’s or Mom and Dad’s. I mean, so far, we haven’t needed to, but it’s a constant concern.”
Lucas frowned at him. “We’ve been here for years. Why didn’t you ask before now?”
Levi seemed suddenly uncomfortable. “You know…” he said, gesturing to the ceiling without finishing that sentence.
And just like that, Lucas did understand.
Six men, all sharing one shoebox-sized apartment with two of them being sex workers, was not where anyone would want to drop off a little girl. Even if Lucas did vouch for all of them and swore they’d all be protective as hell over little Maddy. “Look, I can’t speak for them specifically, but Charlie’s here under house arrest for the next ten months, and Boyd now works out of his studio, so technically, someone will be here all the time. There’s not a chance in hell we’ll turn you away.”
“I’ll ask her and Miss W before we go.”
Lucas looked at what the two of them were wearing. “You know, I could duck out and grab you and Maddy some clothes just as soon as I check in with Boyd, if you like.”
He watched Levi look down at the shirt and boxers that were a little big on him width-wise and across at Maddy, who still wore Charlie’s favourite Giants’ shirt.
“That’d be good, thanks,” he admitted.
“I’ll get extras, and that way, she can have a few changes of clothes here. Actually, do you want me to grab you some spare stuff too?”
Levi stiffened in his seat. “I don’t need you to buy me clothes.”
Lucas wanted to slap him in the back of the head (and would’ve if Maddy wasn’t there). “Stop,” he commanded instead. “I’m already going to a clothes shop. It’s not going to be anything fancy, and if you hate it, you can swap it out with your own stuff later.”
Knowing his brother was still uncomfortable, Lucas waved his hand at the kitchen. “Seriously, Levi, look around. Look at how I’m living, and I’m not paying a dime in rent. Llyr won’t let me since we’ve been looking out for Sam for years. Let me do this for you, so you’ll always know you and Maddy have somewhere safe to go.”
Levi glanced around, his lips tightening before he finally nodded, unwilling to say the words out loud, and Lucas clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re family, dumb-ar—dumb,” he amended, with little ears sitting on the other side of his brother. “Dumb-dumb. I meant Dumb-dumb.”
Levi chuckled and patted his brother’s hand. “I appreciate it, bro. We’ll chill here until you get back. Don’t rush … apparently, you have a gazillion cable channels to choose from, and Maddy doesn’t want to leave until she’s seen them all.”
“I don’t think you’ll live that long,” Lucas laughed and headed back to his room to grab his gear since he was now leaving the apartment. As he clipped and slid everything from sunglasses to his wallet, keys, phone, badge bifold, and ankle-holstered BUG, he almost envied women with carryall handbags that could be grabbed on their way out the door.
Almost.
* * *
((All comments welcome. Good or bad, I’d love to hear your thoughts 🥰🤗))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work, including WPs: Angel466 or an index of previous WPS here.
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!

My 15 year old daughter was recently diagnosed with ADHD and has been given Vyvanse. The Paediatrician said to try 10mg for the first week, then 20mg for 3 months, then two weeks before our next appointment, do 30mg for one week, then 40mg for the other week. She’s currently on her 6th day of 10mg, and the only differences she’s noticed is a dry mouth and slight loss of appetite. Besides that she hasn’t noticed any differences in her attention span or anything like that. I’m not sure what the usual starting doses are, so maybe 10mg is just so low that it’s not doing anything, but i just want to know if 10mg is supposed to do something. I also read something about not having acidic foods 1 hour before or after the medication, however my daughter struggles to take the tablets unless dissolved in a juice, will that affect anything? I’d love if some people can help me out, I’m just trying to do what’s best for my daughter.

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This story was written and emailed to me by an anonymous source. And it’s one of the craziest most bizarre stories I’ve ever read. Ever! 😆 Enjoy the read. It’s long and ridiculously wild. ☘️ Also, in advance, no one can use this story. These stories are written and emailed to me for me to turn into a Video Narrative for my YouTube & TikTok channels. But I would like to share their tales as reading material as well. Thank you for understanding.
I hope you enjoy. 🫶
Story by - “Alex” & “Shane”
Okay so…
I went on vacation to Ireland with my brother last year. And had the most wildest experience of my life there.
Or should I say, we both had the most…wildest experience.
But More so me. And to Tell you the truth, I don’t think I’ll ever go back again after what happened.
As a matter of fact, no, I won’t go back.
So, it’s a Sunday night and it was pretty much our last day of vacationing.
My older brother Shane, wanted to go out… And I’m quoting him - “let’s get fuckin wasted tonight!”
So… We’re on vacation right? Why not? We had rented an Airbnb for the week, we had a rental car - we had a great week so far and we were having…
A proper vacation.
He was already dressed up and ready to go. I wanted to take a quick shower and shave so I told him to head out and I’d call him when I was ready for him to pick me up.
He says cool. He leaves, and I jump in the shower. He’s the one that knows the hot spots in Ireland better than I do. I mean, this was my first time ever coming here. So…
I take a shower, shave, and I get dressed. As I’m about to call my brother, the front door to our Airbnb opens up.
And Its my brother with two bad ass Irish women! They both jump on the couch and they’re laughing their asses off and my brother is just standing there looking at me with a sly grin on his face.
He looks over at the ladies and says - “Give me a minute please” walks over to me, puts his arm over my shoulder and walks me to the bathroom. He then whips out a bag of mushrooms and smiles. Ya know… The psychedelic kind.
I look down at the bag and I shake my head.
He says to me - “come on bro. We got two hotties out there who are trippin and they want to party. Don’t be a flake. This is our last night. Let’s make it special.”
I don’t like disappointing my brother but I was kind of hesitant.
I opened the bathroom door and take a look at these gorgeous women who were both sitting upright now and both looking at me as I opened the door. Both smiling. I smiled back. Closed the door… I looked at my brother and said - “Alright dood fuck it! Let’s do it!”
He gives me a huge hug, kisses me on the forehead, pours me a handful of shrooms and does the same for himself.
We both looked at each other to see who would go first. He counted to three and down the hatch they went. But they were the most unpleasant tasting mushrooms I’ve ever eaten in my life. They were disgusting.
I ran to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of juice because I was having a hard time chewing these nasty things.
But my brother Shane? No, he’s a pro. You give that guy a barrel of hay and he’ll eat it faster than a horse. The guy can eat anything.
40 minutes go by and I’m still straight as a pin. However, my brother on the other hand? He’s already trippin.
I think he had already taken some beforehand.
But in the next 10 minutes… These shrooms hit me like a ton of bricks! It was like this intense wave of cool and hot went completely through my body.
And I’ve taken mushrooms quite a few times but have never felt anything like this before. It was so sudden!
And I feel fantastic!
The next hour went by so fast because we were having so much fun! And these Irish girls? Man… I had the sexiest one! A beautiful Redhead by the name of Katrina.
She was kind of short though. About 5’1” maybe? But good things come in small packages, right? Well, not really. And you’ll know why soon enough.
I don’t recall anything else that happened for the rest of the night after my brother left with the other girl. And before I continue with the rest of the story. My brother’s name is really not Shane. And the redhead girl I was with is not named Katrina.
You see I had to make up these names to protect me and my brother. Because what happened during the rest of the night? I don’t remember. But also, I’ll never forget either.
Okay so, let's get back to the story…
I do remember my brother leaving with… Let's just call her Gloria, Katrina’s friend? And me and Katrina, the redhead, stood behind. I do remember us making out in the bathroom together, but…Everything else after that? There’s nothing there. Nothing. I don’t recall anything from that point forward no matter how badly I try to remember.
This is what my brother told me he witnessed as he arrived back at the Airbnb five hours later with Gloria.
And until this day, I still don’t want to believe this happened. But according to my brother…
It truly did happen.
My brother is going to write this part of the story because he’s the one that has this locked in his memory for life. And for the sake of the story, my name will be Alex.
Here is my brother Shane’s point of view - his perspective on what he witnessed that crazy night. Wow man… This is so fucking nuts. So buckle up and be prepared. I understand you don’t know who I am, but I swear, I’m not a bad person. Okay.

• “Shane’s” story on what he witnessed.

Yeah so, I guess I’m Shane now. Unreal…
Okay. Here we go. Meat and potatoes.
We arrive back at the Airbnb and I see Alex outside in the front of the house wearing only socks and he’s running around on top of the grass like an animal yanking out handfuls of grass from underneath him.
I look at Gloria and we’re both baffled at what we just saw.
First thing I said was - “Oh yeah! This dood is off his rocker right about now - as I parked the car.
We both hop out of the car and walk up to the front door. I slide the key into the door, it unlocks, but there’s a chair behind the door and it’s tipped over blocking the entry way and only leaving enough space for a crack. We both awkwardly look at one another and as I’m about to call out for my brother, I hear someone sprinting towards the door and bang!
The fuckin idiot shuts the door on us.
I then knock on the door softly because It’s almost 1 in the morning as I don’t want to make too much noise. God only knows what this kid has been doing since me and Gloria left.
After I knock on the door a few times, I hear the chair getting pushed to the side and my brother slightly opens the door. I take a peek inside, and his nose is broken, lips are bubbled up and his left eye is completely shut, black and blue and swollen.
He then drops to his knees, and begins crying but no sound is coming out of him! You know… Like when you get smacked by your parents when you’re a kid and it shocks the soul of you? Yeah, that kind of cry.
I don’t react to what he’s doing to not scare the shit out of Gloria, because she’s right beside me. So I push the door open and tell Gloria to hang on a second and shut the door and lock it.
I pick his busted ass up and sit him on the couch. I look around the house and it’s in complete shambles. Our clothes are everywhere, there’s food all over the fuckin walls. It was chaotic. And my brother is now sitting up breathing frantically.
I ask him - “what in the fuck happened?”
He looks at me. Face looking like he got into a boxing match with Rocky Marciano and whispers to me.
“Dood… There’s a leprechaun in the bathroom.”
“A fuckin what now?” - I said with the most bewildered look on my face. I mean I must have… I wish I would have taken a picture of my face at that very moment. I should have taken pictures of everything so this idiot could see the havoc he wreaked on that night.
My imbecile brother continues - “I’m telling you. There’s a fuckin leprechaun in the fuckin bathroom and this little lucky charms motherfucker won’t tell me where he hid the gold!”
“A leprechaun in the bathroom. What the fuck happened to you?” I said as I felt my blood beginning to boil.
The Imbecile then says - “Don’t worry. Don’t worry! I hogtied that little bitch and stuffed my underwear in its mouth. It’s in the bathtub. But don’t go in there. Don’t go in there. This thing fucked me up!”
And now I can hear someone fumbling in the bathroom moaning very softly. I looked at my brother and said - “What in the fuck did you do Alex?”
He replies - “I’m telling you. It’s a fucking leprechaun.”
“Okay. Okay.” - I said. “Stay right here and just, don’t move. Don’t do anything. Just keep still.
His eyes were so huge and dilated. He was so fuckin high. He had heartbeat pulses pumping from the top of his head.
I rushed back over to the front door and told Gloria that my brother got into a fight with a couple of guys at a pub while me and her were out and that her friend Katrina left because she got scared. She told me that was the first time she met that girl tonight so she really didn’t care and shrugged it off. Which was a huge relief to me. I told her thank you for a wonderful night. She understood. W said our goodbyes. I shut the door. And now… What the fuck is in the bathroom? Or better yet, who, is in the bathroom? Because let’s face it. This motherfucker did not find and fight with a leprechaun tonight. No way. There’s just no fuckin way.
I rush over to the bathroom and my brother leaps at my legs, and he’s holding onto me for dear life, begging me!
He says - “Please don’t untie it! It’s got magical powers! PLEASE!!!
Now, at this very moment? I am sort of hesitant about opening the bathroom door. But I snap out of it and open it. What the fuck. A leprechaun? No, I don’t think so.
I open the door…
“Holy shit.” - I said while covering my hands with my mouth. The floor was smeared in blood as if someone was dragged, leading to the huge cast iron tub. Smeared bloody handprints were all over the tub. And now I hear the faint moan coming from the tub. My legs are shaking and feel like they’re ready to give out on me. I was scared shitless.
“What did my brother do? Who is in that bathtub? I pray to God Katrina isn’t in there right now.” - I said to myself completely freaked out.
I slowly walk up to the bathtub…
And sure enough, there is a hogtied person lying in it with my brother's underwear stuffed in their mouth with a ripped t-shirt tied around their head and mouth, but… It’s not Katrina.
It’s a little person. You know, a dwarf? And… He’s literally dressed up in a leprechaun costume…
And how, on God's green earth did he end up here?
He has no idea I’m standing above him. I reach down to begin untying him but he begins squirming and screaming. I told him to relax and that I was here to help him.
And then My imbecile brother Alex, rushes into the bathroom and tackles me down. Stands up and begins shouting at this poor bastard hogtied in the tub - “Tell me where it is you greedy little fuck! Tell me!!!
I jumped to my feet and slapped my brother back to his childhood. Grabbed him by the throat, tripped him and threw him to the ground and said - “are you fuckin crazy? Do you want to go to prison for kidnapping? What in the fuck is the matter with you? You dumb fuck!!”
He then looks up at me with this pessimistic look on his face and says - “It’s a fucking leprechaun dood. A leprechaun.”
I was absolutely dumbfounded and furious at this point. I have this stranger in my Airbnb rental, hogtied and gagged and squirming and screaming and my brother thinks that he’s a leprechaun…
I can’t make this shit up.
He was so fucking high on those mushrooms. He was absolutely convinced that this man was a leprechaun. So… I had to play the game.
It was the only way to help this poor son of a bitch that my brother had kidnapped and hogtied in our Airbnb rental.
I calmly whispered and told him to please leave the bathroom so I could interrogate the leprechaun and find out where he was hiding the pot of gold.
My brother slowly stood up to his feet, face busted up, his cock and balls all shriveled and tight, looked at the man dressed up as a leprechaun, smiled at him with an evil grin and just, walked away…
And as he walked away, I told him to go and please put some clothes on, lay down in bed, and that I would handle the leprechaun. That I, would find out where the gold was hidden…
And that’s all I’m saying. I’m giving the computer back to my dumbass of a brother to finish off whatever else he wants to write.

• Back to “Alex”

Pretty outlandish right? I know. I know. You must think that I’m bat shit crazy huh? Okay so, to make the rest of this long story short, my brother Shane never told me what he did with the poor guy I hogtied and, well… i don’t remember how this guy came to be in my possession. I really don’t.
The only thing my brother Shane told me was that he ungagged him, untied him, and that he was extremely pissed off. And that he had compensated him for his troubles.
Man, I felt so horrible. I felt so horrible…
What I do remember though is waking up that following afternoon with my face all fucked up. Dehydrated with a tremendous splitting headache. I had no clue as to why I looked and felt the way I did. It was terrifying.
All of our luggage was packed and my brother was just sitting there, legs crossed and his arms folded.
Hey man… Take it from me. Don’t do fuckin drugs.
Regards, “Alex” & “Shane”
Disclaimer- This story may not be used for anything other than reading, sharing your thoughts and enjoying it. It is now protected by the United States Library of Congress/Copyright Office. Thank you. ☘️

I'm at a bit of a loss. I'm 5 gear levels above her, I'm juiced up on potion of rage, witch's brew and vampiric brew with 100% rogue blood. It's a blood moon, I have full maleficer armor, epic ancestral sword, amulet of arch warlock and tier 3 jewels on all my spells. I run chaos volley, chaos barrier, veil of chaos and crimson beam and I can barely get her to half health. She's on my ass like no other boss I've ever seen and if it's not her pinning me down it's her iron maiden. Can't get a breather in this fight, can't keep my blood up, cooldowns aren't fast enough to dodge and use the chaos barrier again before I'm being stunned or pinned or trapped. I've tried the minion build with no luck, long ranged but it's too slow, I know her patterns, pay attention to what's going on and don't just spam and I'm not sure what's going on. She's too fast and too aggressive. Any tips?
Edit: Tried the double counter as suggested with frost shield, no luck. Threw in ice block too for that extra breathing room and regen. Still can barely get her down to half health. Not having much fun any more after dozens of tries, so gonna give vrising a rest until some friends come on and we can take her on together. Devs, please nerf Valencia a little so it doesn't feel like she can only be beaten with a very specific build and perfect dark souls timing on normal difficulty after not having much trouble with the other bosses, especially when I'm over-levelled like this. Have enjoyed the game otherwise!
2nd edit: Sanguine coil, frost barrier and crimson beam ended up being the combo that did it. I poked her with sanguine coil which kept my health up, ran around in a circle constantly and crimson beamed the iron maiden when it showed up to take it down quick. One final crimson beam to her face and she was dead. GG!

“What do you mean it’s wrong?” said Tamara, becoming frustrated with Samuel.
“I'm trying to tell you that plants do not eat earth. They just absorb nutrients from it,” Samuel replied, equally annoyed as this was the fourth time he had explained it. “Look, just take my word for it, OK,” he added.
“Fine, but you will have to explain it again,” Tamara retorted.
Samuel and Tamara were partners in a scientific study of their forest home. It was genuinely idyllic in every sense of the word; the trees stretched high into the sky, and everyone was covered in succulent leaves, a deep and gorgeous shade of green. Around their trunks were rings of flowers gathered from every continent, and a thick carpet of grass lay on the ground.
The two sat underneath a chestnut tree, writing up their findings for the day. It had focused mainly on tree sizes and growth rates, and they had continued this study for, on and off, almost a year.
Samuel turned to look at his assistant and found that she was just as remarkable as the day they had first met: golden locks, like living sunlight, tied neatly in a bun. Her eyes were an emerald green, and all in all, she was gorgeous. However, it was when you came to her waist that things became truly incredible because rather than a pair of legs, there was a long and wide snake’s tail.
It was huge, at least seven metres long and as wide as her torso. The scales were the same beautiful colour as her hair and reflected the sunlight in such a way that she appeared to glow. She was wearing an ultramarine tunic with a black diamond in the centre. She was like this not because of a plague, a curse or some mutation; Tamara was a Lamia; it was how she was born.
Samuel, on the other hand, looked far less impressive. He was around five foot ten, with dull brown hair and equally dull eyes. His stomach stuck out from the rest of him. No amount of exercise was able to get rid of it.
He was by every description a ‘dull as dishwater’ human. His clothes, however, were slightly more interesting. He wore a navy blue tunic with a thick leather belt wrapped around his waist. On his feet was a pair of excellent leather boots, able to withstand whatever the world threw at them and on his forearms and shins, he wore something Tamara had never seen or even heard of before: a pair of vambraces and greaves, Samuel called it armour.
Three strips of rugged leather layered on top of one another made up each piece, and between each layer was a collection of tiny metal beads. When Tamara asked what they were for, Samuel said they were for protection.
All of this would have been inconceivable to Samuel two years ago, but he had become used to it in time. Samuel was not born into this world; he had arrived. How? He did not know, but he remembered it all vividly; his senses had been overloaded, and at first, he believed he had died.
“What’s wrong?” Tamara asked Samuel, who had been silent for over a minute.
Samuel snapped out of his daydream and said: “nothing, just thinking about that day again.”
Tamara nodded and said nothing else; she knew exactly what was wrong.
Samuel went straight back to writing. When Samuel first showed up, there had been no paper or pens, but what was even stranger than the lack of these apparent necessities was that Samuel had had to invent both of these items.
Tamara and those like her did not possess a written language; they relied entirely on their memories, and until Samuel had shown up, Tamara had not even conceived of the notion, but she had picked it up astonishingly quickly.
“It still sounds like eating to me,” said Tamara, bringing the conversation back to the original topic.
“Well, it isn’t; eating requires a mouth and stomach,” Samuel replied.
“Says who?” Tamara asked defiantly.
“Says me,” Samuel answered.
Samuel jotted down the last of his notes and left the pages to dry in the sun. Samuel then turned to his right and looked at a large book, the size of a chair’s seat, bound in yellow leather and knotted by animal tendons. He picked it up and began to leaf through the pages.
His eyes glanced over paragraphs about oak trees and orchid flowers until he finally reached the section he sought; the page was titled Silver Birch (Betula Pendula).
“Have you finished the drawing on Silver Birch yet?” Samuel asked without looking.
Tamara was currently focused on a drawing of sunflowers, but she understood his request and, without looking up or saying a word, handed him the picture he wanted.
Samuel took the drawing and took several moments admiring it. Like all her work, the picture was astounding; not only did it look like an actual Silver Birch, but it also seemed to be alive, as though it would start blowing in the breeze.
Samuel punched four holes along the sheet's left side, undid the tendon strings and then attached the drawing behind the title page. He added eight more pages to his book, four of text and four illustrations.
Their work was now done; there was no more writing or drawing today, and he placed their work into a knapsack Tamara had brought with her. Samuel turned to his partner and asked: “so what do you want to do now?”
Tamara looked up through the canopy and could make out the silhouettes of several birds and finally said: “I’d quite like to fly.”
Samuel smiled, chuckled and said, “Yes, so would I, but that would require every member of the village working together for decades.”
Tamara looked Samuel in the eye and said: “are you making fun of me?”
Samuel did not reply; he just looked Tamara dead in the eye. She observed every minute twitch on Samuel's face and concluded he was not.
“How could a person fly?” She asked, suddenly intrigued.
“I don’t know, I’m not an engineer,” Samuel answered, “So apart from flying, what else do you want to do?”
Tamara let out a sigh and said: “I guess we will just have to walk.”
These were the moments Samuel lived for, just a quiet afternoon with his best friend enjoying a stroll; he was utterly content.
“You seem chipper,” Tamara said, noticing the growing smile on Samuel’s face.
“That’s because I feel chipper” he replied
They passed through the trees, heading towards their favourite spot, a beach by the side of a lake so large you could not see the other side.
“So, how is everyone?” Samuel said, trying to spark a conversation.
“You mean every single one because that could take a while?” Tamara replied.
“Let’s start with your mother” he clarified.
Tamara’s mother, Pancha, was more or less just a larger version of her daughter, just as brash and headstrong.
“She’s fine; she has finally stopped asking me what happened every time I come to meet you,” she said.
“Really, and it only took her two and a half years,” said Samuel with a smirk.
Yes, that first year here, had been a real trial. Samuel had never felt so scared, isolated and persecuted in his life. When he thought about it, he could still feel the fear and the hopelessness.
A gust of air slammed into Samuel’s face, bringing him back to the present, and what a wonderful time it was. The water was crystal clear, the beach was covered in sparkling white sand, and the distinct aroma of water wafted through the air. Samuel breathed it all in as Tamara spread herself over the beach.
The cooling breeze that Samuel found so enjoyable, Tamara found far less agreeable. Tamara was ectothermic or cold-blooded. She could not maintain her body temperature; she needed to absorb it from her environment, and the wind was slowly draining her.
“Comfortable down there?” Samuel asked.
Tamara turned her head, looked up at him and said: “Actually, yes, not as good as my bed, but still fine.”
Samuel left Tamara to her thermoregulation and strolled down to the water’s edge, “stay where I can see you!” Tamara called.
“Yes, MOM,” Samuel answered sarcastically, though he knew it was more for Tamara’s sake than his; she had a problem with open spaces.
Samuel closed his eyes, stretched his arms above his head, feeling his muscles strain against the tension, and yawned. Small tears formed in his eyes and wiped them away. He had only been up for a few hours but was ready for bed.
“Too much thinking, that was the problem,” Samuel mumbled to himself.
The sunlight sparkled on the water’s surface. It seemed as though millions of diamonds were suddenly brought into existence, danced for a few moments, and then vanished as quickly as they came. It was beautiful, just like everything else here.
He climbed up a rock that jutted from that sand and sat down, his legs dangling over the edge. As he kicked his legs, a ray of sun caught his greaves, and although the leather was rather dull, it still dazzled him.
Samuel heard a sound reminiscent of sandpaper brushing against wood, and he knew at once what it was. He waited four more seconds and said, without moving an inch, “Don’t even think about it!”
“How did you know?” Tamara asked, feeling simultaneously impressed, confused and disappointed.
Samuel looked her in the eye and replied: “who do you think you’re dealing with?”
Tamara had not clambered up the rock like Samuel; she had simply raised herself on her tail so she stood over two metres high.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
Tamara smiled and answered, “yes, thanks for asking.”
Tamara moved behind Samuel and then began to coil around the boulder, and if he had not experienced it all before, it would have been unnerving. Tamara was only twelve and a half, yet she was already far stronger than him. Samuel was sure if Tamara really wanted to, she could crush a bison to death. After the graceful dance around the stone, she sat down beside Samuel.
The pair was silent for a few minutes, except for a quick coughing fit by Samuel; they took in the unnatural beauty of their surroundings.
“Hey, I have a question,” said Tamara, coming back to her senses.
“What is it?” Samuel replied.
“You still haven’t told me why we are studying the forest?” She asked.
In an instant, Samuel became deeply confused. To him, it seemed all too obvious why they were doing it.
“There is no practical reason for doing it. We do it so that we know,” Samuel answered.
Tamara became silent. Samuel realised that she was deep in thought and decided to give her all the time she needed until she finally said: “Is this one of those human things?”
Samuel, upon hearing this, gave a small chuckle and answered: “yes, if you like.”
Suddenly, something caught Samuel’s eye. It was a crab, no bigger than a golf ball. Its back was powder blue, and it held its arms upright, its claws pointing down. The tiny creature would walk forward, scoop some sand into its mouth, and then leave a small pellet behind.
“Look at that!” said Samuel, nudging Tamara’s shoulder and pointing at the tiny crustacean. Tamara turned her head and looked directly at where he was pointing; she strained her eyes at what she thought was a pebble; she was about to climb down and collect it when it suddenly moved, and she squealed.
Tamara dragged the bottom end of her tail up from the beach and timidly said, “What’s that?”
Samuel remembered that tone of voice all too well, and it brought with it some unpleasant memories, but he pushed them to the back of his mind and said: “it’s a crab.”
Samuel was certain he had seen this type of crab before but could not put a name to the image. Samuel was sure he had read about them, watched a documentary, or attended a lecture, but he could not remember. Ultimately, he decided to drop it for now and see if the answer would come to him.
Tamara kept staring at it as though she believed it would pounce if she took her eyes off it for one second.
“Is it dangerous?” she asked, her voice hushed to ensure the creature did not notice her.
Samuel sighed and answered: “it’s a crab, Tamara, unless you happen to be a nematode then…”
Samuel paused mid-sentence as his brain finally connected the dots and asked, “Wait, you have never seen a crab before?”
This perplexed Samuel for a moment until he remembered that Tamara did not have a television, a car, and she could not fly a plane, so it was not unexpected that she would not know what a crab was.
Tamara shook her head in response to his question, and Samuel added: “you know what a woodlouse is, right?”
Tamara nodded and said, “I like woodlice.”
“Well, a crab is just a type of woodlouse that lives near water,” Samuel concluded.
However, he could tell from her face that she was unconvinced, so he got off the rock, walked over to the tiny creature, wary of its pincers, and picked it up by its backside.
“What are you doing?” Tamara called in alarm.
Samuel held the animal, its legs flailing wildly in an attempt to escape, and said, “showing you there is nothing to be worried about.”
Taking care not to crush it, Samuel clambered back up the rock and presented the animal to her. Tamara stared at it for some as the crab bobbed its eye up and down and tried in vain to find a part of Samuel it could nip.
“It’s actually kind of… cute,” Tamara said after two minutes of silence.
She relaxed her tail and let it rest on the beach once more. “Can it hold it?” She asked Samuel, fear being replaced by interest.
“Of course, you can. Just make sure you hold it by its back and be careful of the pincers; if they get you, it will hurt.”
Samuel handed the crab over to her and watched as Tamara began to inspect the animal from every angle. The crab had a white underbelly and purple joints.
“You think you could draw it from memory?” Samuel asked.
“Hmm?” Tamara replied. Samuel let out a sigh and repeated. After three more attempts, Tamara finally took notice and said, “Yes.”
Five minutes later, Samuel said, “we should probably put him back now.”
Tamara moaned about it, but Samuel said: “he has his own life, Tamara; you can’t keep him!”
She conceded, grumbling under her breath, and gently placed the animal back on the sand. As the crab dashed away, the two noticed that while they had been fixated on that single crab, thousands more had emerged on the beach.
Upon seeing the swarm of animals make their way across the beach, Tamara let out a squeal and once again pulled her tail up off the beach. The army of crabs marched along the shore. The collective walking produced a sound loud enough to hear from fifty metres away, and at last, Samuel remembered what they were and said, with no small amount of satisfaction in his voice, “they’re soldier crabs.”
“What are they going to do?” Tamara asked, concerned by the sudden appearance of so many creatures.
Samuel kept staring at the gathering, but he heard her question and replied, “They’re just feeding,” and added quickly, “But we are far too big for them.”
“That's odd,” Samuel said under his breath.
“I know there are so many of them,” Tamara said, deeply unnerved by the sheer vastness of the swarm.
“No,” Samuel said, “There should be this many of them; it’s where they are that is strange.”
Tamara momentarily took her eyes off the army and asked, “So where should they be.” There was a slight flicker of fear in her voice at the prospect of being invaded; rats and mice where bad enough. They did not need another pest.
“By the sea, not a freshwater lake,” he answered.
“The Sea?” Tamara almost yelled. Samuel was a little surprised by this enthusiasm and turned to face her.
“Yes,” he said.
“Have you ever been to the sea,” she asked.
“Yes, many times,” Samuel said, uncertain where this was going.
“I bet it’s wonderful,” Tamara added with a smile.
Samuel was silent as his brain connected a few dots and asked: “how can you know about the sea if you don’t know about crabs?”
She smiled; Tamara enjoyed it when she knew something that he did not, “there is a story that my mom told me that before we came to this forest, we were a different people that lived by the sea.” Tamara paused for a breath.
“But then humans came and drove us from the water, and we fled inland. Our people split into two. One half went to the mountains, and the other settled in the forest.”
Tamara finished and waited for his reply. Samuel, however, just kept looking at her. Tamara was concerned that she had upset him; he did not like it when humans were labelled as the enemy, yet his face and posture were not those of one who was sad or angry.
“You people blame us for everything, don’t you?” Samuel said with a chuckle.
“If there is a fire, it’s a human’s fault. If there is an earthquake, it’s a human’s fault. If a little Boreray boy drinks all their apple juice in one gulp, it’s a human’s fault.”
“So, getting back on topic, where did these “Soldier crabs” come from anyway? We have visited this lake for over two years and never seen even a glimpse?” Tamara asked. Samuel looked back to the slowly advancing army, and several ideas flashed through his head.
“Maybe they have been dormant up until now; perhaps they make a large circle around the lake shore, and it’s simply luck that we were here on the day they passed by, or maybe the migrated here from somewhere else.”
They watched the crabs' ceaseless march until Tamara said, “These things are still giving me the creeps. Can we go now?” Samuel could not argue that there was something eerie about all of these animals appearing, seemingly, from nowhere; however, there was still one thing he had to be certain of.
“You think you could draw one from memory?” he asked.
Tamara’s face contorted in a scowl. Samuel, for all his good points, could become far too focused on his research, which often caused him to become ignorant of other people.
Yet she knew sitting here yelling at him would accomplish nothing, so she told him the truth: “Yes, can we go now!” Samuel nodded and then slid off the rock. Tamara copied him, and they both slinked back to the cover of the trees.
Now that she was beneath the canopy, Tamara let out an enormous sigh of relief as the anxiety slowly left, and the close air warmed her body. On the other hand, Samuel began to chafe at the stagnant air while his head began to bead with sweat, but it was nothing he had not experienced before, so he gritted his teeth and bared with it.
With their plans now ruined, Tamara and Samuel wandered aimlessly through the woods, chatting about what they could do to fill the rest of the day. Several ideas arose, including visiting a nearby waterfall and a set of monument stones, but none truly appealed to them.
In the end, Tamara said, “how about we just call it a day?”
Samuel was happy about this. Tamara was his only form of human contact, yet he could not deny the pointlessness of wandering around the woods, so he said, “Ok, but let’s take the long way.”
Samuel heard a sound above him and saw a red squirrel scampering through the trees.
“Is it difficult?” Tamara asked.
Samuel looked at Tamara and replied, “Well, it can give me a crick in my neck sometimes.”
Tamara let out a short laugh and clarified, “No, I mean, is it difficult being so inquisitive? It looks exhausting.”
He was not entirely sure what she meant by that. To Samuel, Tamara was every bit as curious as him, so he stated: “you tell me, you went out looking for me just because you wanted to know.”
“True,” answered Tamara, “and everyone has always said that I am always asking questions, but you’re like a boar that just ate sugar beat.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Samuel said, shaking his head. “But I do know that people always told me, when I was a boy, that humans are, by their nature, infinitely curious, but personally, I think that it’s just how I was born.” there was a pause, and he quickly added, “just like you.”
Tamara’s fingers started to numb as she brushed them against the bark of passing trees. She took a good look at the trees around her. Tamara had lived her entire life sheltered by these trees. This place was her home, her family’s home and her friend’s home, and she loved it, a perfect example of the innate beauty of nature.
Samuel, however, was of a different opinion this forest disturbed him, though this feeling had diminished with time. The trees all grew in perfect symmetry, four and a half strides form each other.
From Tamara’s perspective, there was nothing strange about this, yet Samuel often said that this should not be possible, that the wood should be a mess and that the trees should grow in an unorganised fashion. Yet to Tamara, the idea of messy forests was just as impossible as a structured one was to him.
Noon came and went, and Samuel’s stomach began to rumble. His breakfast was becoming a distant memory; he thought he might be able to bear it for another hour or so, but as they travelled closer to the village, Tamara started to become irritated by Samuel’s constant growling.
“We need to find you something to eat before that sound drives me nuts!” Tamara stated bluntly.
“That’s all well and good, my dear, so long as you can materialise food out of the aether,” answered Samuel, with just a hint of condescension in his voice.
Tamara did not know what the aether was, but it did not matter. “No, but I do know a nearby tree with some great fruit in it,” she replied.
Samuel found this strange for two reasons. Firstly, he found it very difficult to believe there was a source of food in this forest that either he had not found, or Tamara had not told him about yet.
Secondly that, Tamara would know much about something she could not eat. Tamara was strictly carnivorous; she ate nothing but meat.
He wanted answers fast and asked: “So why haven’t you told me about this before?”
“Because I can’t stand the smell, that’s why, and I didn’t want you stinking up the place,” she explained.
“If it smells disgusting, what makes you think I will eat it?” he asked.
“Because the Boreray can’t get enough of it, some of them say that they taste like all the best parts of every fruit and vegetable we grow, which is a shame because they smell like all the worst,” she added.
He asked no more questions. He was too busy thinking; this fruit sounded so familiar, but he could not remember. The need to survive day in day out had pushed most of his standard learning, from school and university to the back of his mind, not forgotten mind you just buried.
I'm back with Tamara and Samuel latest adventure. If you like what you've read so far and want to know where it's going you can find the complete story by following the links below.
e-book(US/UK/CA/AU/DE)
Physical(US/UK/CA/DE)
If you do decide to read ahead please leave a review or rating, every single one helps immensely, and helps me keep doing what I'm doing.
Also the e-book will be at a reduced price until the last chapter it published on reddit.

If you were to slow cook a very lean cut of meat in crock pot, it would release a bunch of juices naturally. Intuitively, I know that as it sits and cools after, the juice would remain.
Why doesn’t the meat reabsorb the juices? It releases moisture when heated, so as it cools down it should want to go back to its original, juicy state, right? Would salting the meat before cause it to reabsorb better?

A friend and I decided to do a road trip test with our two vehicles - Ioniq 5 and XC60. Technically the XC60 is a PHEV, but for road trip purposes it's pretty much 100% petrol.
We left on Friday afternoon at 1pm. It's a 450km trip to our destination. The XC60 driver did a straight shot with a 12 min petrol and snack stop, arriving just after 6pm. A typical road trip where getting to the destination quickly was the main goal I guess.
The Ioniq 5 had a slightly different time. They took a total of 3 charge stops. They had planned two stops at superchargers but the first was out of order, and they didnt have enough juice to make the second without a pit stop so had to grab a bit of charge at two separate spots at 50kW before they reached a 350kW charger. They eventually arrived at 8:30pm, having grabbed a decent dinner and enough charge on the way to get to and from the ski fields for the next couple of days. The driver was fairly frustrated by the broken charger and unplanned stops, but the family still had fun, had plenty of time to stretch their legs at places they wouldn't normally visit, and they had the better dinner. We called it a tie, both families were happy and rested that evening.
We left on the return trip on 5:30pm on Sunday evening. Both families stopped for a leisurely dinner about an hour into the trip, and hung around eating and chatting while the EV party recharged there. It was a cold evening and the charge was much slower than expected. We probably would have preferred to eat in the restaurant rather than back at the charger (which was slightly out of town) but we had a good time hanging out. We eventually left at 7:20pm, and everyone was keen to get home. The XC60 stopped briefly to refill and arrived back home at 11:40pm. It was a pretty slow trip with some traffic but not too bad, and they were happy to get back to bed.
The Ioniq 5 stopped twice more, including a 40 minute charging stop at 10pm at another 350kW charger. We made it home at 12:25pm, not too much later than the ICE as we missed most of the traffic. This one we called a narrow win for the petrol car, the kids didn't cherish the lengthy break on a cold night in a deserted country town.
Honestly the experience in the Volvo was less stressful overall. But it was a close thing. We agreed that a few more charge points on the way would be nice. We did look a little enviously at the Teslas plugged in to their supercharger stations which we couldn't use! And we couldn't fully replicate the "get there as fast as possible" trip in the EV, the time taken to recharge means we need to enjoy the journey a little rather than obsessing about the destination. But we both agreed this was not a bad thing.
Has anyone else made a similar comparison trip? Interested in your experiences!

Hello. I am at the end of week one and I feel like I spend every waking moment sipping water and still do not hit my goal. How is it possible????
I had a big struggle with protein because I deeply dislike artificial sweetener, it makes me feel sick. I would just rather not have anything sweet than have artificial sweetener of any kind. I had a sweet tooth before but all I want is savory right now. Premade protein shakes are all made with artificial sweetener and are cloyingly, horribly, obnoxiously sweet. Most of the options I had arranged for me were all so gross I was choking them down. I have unflavored protein powder but the question has been what to put it in. I’ve settled on bone broth and now I’m also doing V8.
So anyway, I was thinking I had to treat the protein like meals and do no water when I’m drinking them, like no water before or after for 30 min? That is utterly impossible if you have to consume enough protein to get anywhere near your goals AND enough water. I’ve been so frustrated. I think maybe I misunderstood and I can still just drink water and protein shakes interchangeably because they’re liquid, right? Especially since mine are not milky or thick, they’re literally juice and broth slightly thickened by the protein powder. Is that right? This is so hard. -___-
Here is what I think I’m going to do tomorrow now that I’m cleared for blended foods:
Make a big 20 oz protein V8 (low sodium ofc) and sip on it all day alongside my water. That will have 44g of protein (I can put 4 scoops in there and not notice).
Eat 2 blended meals with 20g of protein each. That way im getting most of my protein as I sip my liquids and can worry less about how long I have to wait before and after with the water because it’s only two meals.
Is this wrong? It’s so hard. I don’t feel like a human being right now. Just a poorly-maintained sipping machine. :(

Hello, I'm F 24 and I'm 4'11". I got a breathalyzer for fun and decided to use it the next time I drank. I've been drinking while cleaning my bedroom over the last 4 hours and I'm 3/4 finished a 2L of 7% pineapple juice. The breathalyzer says I'm at BAC 0.20. Google says normally this is when black out occurs. I know I can drink 2 times what I drank tonight before blacking out. I feel tipsy but not to the point where I am uncoordinated or blacking out. I have, however, been a heavy drinker in the past and I do currently have a higher alcohol tolerance because I have 1 glass of wine after work every day. Is it normal to feel only tipsy at a 0.20BAC level?

Hi all, I had my first lap yesterday and they found "lots" of endo. I still don't know more details yet but that will come at my follow-up appointment. I'm wondering about recovery and GI stuff... usually I'm really on the constipated side so I have been drinking prune juice after the surgery to try and make sure things gets moving again.
Well, my first BM after the surgery was surprisingly... loose... not at all like my regular. Also my guts are churning. Is that normal?? I'm on T3 for pain management which I heard can also be constipating so now I'm just confused and scared 🫣 I did have to get a ton of anti-nausea meds before and after the procedure, and one of them was one that stimulates the intestines or something so maybe that's why? I dunno.
I'm probably just freaking out because I've never really had surgery before (apart from a dental surgery when I wad younger) and I don't feel "normal" which is scary. Did anyone have diarrhea or loose stools after surgery tho?

O.J. Simpson is gone-dead from cancer earlier this year. Rewind back to the 90's. O.J, or not O.J. depending on who you ask, stabbed his ex-wife and her boyfriend to death in Los Angeles. The whole country was subsequently held hostage with round the clock O.J. coverage in the wake of the murders*. Its all anyone talked about and there was no way to escape it. There weren't thousands of channels to flick to, or dozens of streaming services available to seek refuge-in far away from the insanity.
However, after his acquittal he seemed to simply fade from public view-absorbed back into the stained fabric of American society. That was of course before he was locked up for nine years in 2008 for attempting to rob his own memorabilia at gunpoint. So what was he doing with his freedom in the years prior?
Nothing. Well, almost nothing. In 2006, executive producer Rick Mahr, famous for the highly-cerebral Backyard Wrestling series, decided it would be a good idea to tap into the reality show boom with an MTV Punk'd themed prank show featuring O.J. Simpson.
It was a one-hour special that featured O.J. himself engaging in a series of pranks ranging from dressing in rags while selling oranges on the side of a highway, to him serving and insulting fat customers in a fast-food drive thru. At the end of the gig, he'd come clean and tell the victim with a smile "you just got Juiced!" Most of the pranks fell flat on their face: people sometimes didn't recognize O.J. or didn't understand the prank, or the whole idea was just too damn stupid.
But the icing on the cake was the skit where O.J. attempted to sell a replica of his white Ford Bronco, which incidentally was discontinued for years after the murders (but that's another story, you can see below for a few more details). The Bronco even sported a real bullet hole, which The Juice himself signed right above it.
O.J. seems to reflect on the whole Bronco chase as simply comical. Is this some dark type of new-age therapy? "It has great escapability!" he keeps informing customers. Does he admit that there was a dead body in the car? Was it him who placed it there? I have never heard O.J speak so candidly about details from the aftermath of the murders.
Here are some exchanges between O.J. and potential 'customers' as reported in the NPR This American Life episode 564-Too Soon?:

Man: Is there $10,000 in here?
O.J: Nope, Nope. No $10,000,
Man: ...You were carrying it, you know?
O.J: Naw, naw. They say that, I was carrying about $3.
Man: $3?
O.J: Yeah, that's why they never brought it up in court.

In another exchange:

O.J: It was good for me.
Man: Yeah?
O.J: Got me out of harm's way.
Man: ...Ok, I'll sit in it...there was a dead body in there.
O.J: Yeah. Well, um, hopefully there's no bodies in this thing. And I can guarantee you, the car has escape-ability. I mean, if you're ever getting into some trouble, and you've got to get away, it has escape-ability.
Man: (Laughing)

He'd be locked up soon after this aired. Apparently only about 100 DVDs ever sold, and there are no other details about the profits made from the pay per view event, or O.J.'s fee for appearing in the special.
All in all, it was a completely ill-conceived idea with even worse execution that somehow was spewed into existence. It reeks of a desperation for money from all parties involved, none of whom seemed capable of creating any well-written gags for the camera. However, it is memorable in the shock-value of seeing an accused murderer making light of the truck he rode in after he supposedly stabbed his wife and her boyfriend to death.
Most humans will live a rich, full life never knowing this even exists. For the woeful few who do see it, you can't help but leave with an overwhelming feeling that O.J. was a twisted and broken man at this point, straining to grasp at even the the slightest hint of his former celebrity and adoration.
\To most people born post 1980s, OJ Simpson was a famous athlete accused, then acquitted of murder who'd later serve time for a completely unrelated crime.*
But to the rest of us, OJ is the single most infamous athlete name of our lifetimes--the shockwave that was sent through the country when it was announced that his ex-wife and her boyfriend had been murdered in Los Angeles, was unprecedented.
Its impossible to recreate the magnitude of this mono-cultural event that was the OJ Trial, and words don't begin to describe the fall from grace of one of the most beloved sports stars ever.
We'll never be able to forget the image of the low-speed white Ford Bronco chase with dozens of police cars in not so hot pursuit, or the inhumanly long trial that fractured the country along racial lines, or the glove that don't fit (so you must acquit!).
To the younger generation: try to imagine waking up to read that one of the Manning brothers had been accused of bumping off their significant other. Maybe that serves to illustrate the disbelief that we were all hit with that one night in June, 1994.
After the 8 month murder trial (yeah, how many of you had forgotten it lasted that long?), OJ was a free man. Images of him happily golfing sent waves of anger through white America, who felt like justice was cheated by a slick defense team that highlighted the racist tactics of the LA police department. On the heels of the Rodney King video and subsequent riots, this was not only a brilliant strategy, but one rooted in a great deal of truth.
A civil lawsuit followed in which OJ was found responsible for the death of Ron Goldman and ordered to pay his family $33 million. To my knowledge, they never received a cent.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOEcsIghRpg

Hey guys! I recently received my Wacom Movink and wanted to write up a quick review type of thing since there is not a lot of info on it yet. Hope this will be helpful to someone. First of all - who am I and what is my usecase for it? - I'm a concept artist, working in gamedev and film and I needed a portable screen tablet for when I'm out of my home studio.
What am I comparing it to? - My primary device at home is a cintiq 24 touch and intous pro small. For sketching on the couch/on the go I use Samsung Galaxy tab s9 ultra which I got recently, before that I was using an M2 iPad pro 12.9, so I'll be comparing the Movink to the ipad too.
What does it come with? -In the box you'll find the tablet, angled type C to C cable and the pro pen 3.
First impressions: It's Wacom. That's basically it. If you ever used anything with the pro pen it feels the same. Great initial activation, great pressure curve, very responsive. And it's crazy thin and light. I'm testing on windows and Mac both worked without an issue after you update the driver. Movink connects with one cable if the type c port on your device can provide enough juice. If not you'll have to plug in one more type C cable to the second port on the tablet. The tablet has two type c ports on either side and you can plug in to either of them. And you can switch between inputs from both ports so theoretically you can plug in two devices. Not sure how useful this is on a mobile device but I'm sure somebody will find it useful.
How does it compare: It feels the same as my cintiq just light and small.
Compared to the ipad - if you can do everything you need to do on the ipad OS, probably you should get the ipad. For me this is not an option because I primarily use Photoshop, unreal and blender so I need a desktop PC. And I love buttons on my stylus. My biggest gripe with the apple pencil is the bloody touch surface, I hate it, I keep it disabled and I would really love to have at least one physical button. The pro pen 3 has 3 buttons and this makes me happy. So if you like the apple pencil you'll be fine with the ipad. If you need just a screen tablet for at home use our you mainly use a laptop and you like the size - get the Movink, it's the best small tablet Wacom currently makes.
Compared to the Samsung Galaxy tab s9 ultra - the initial activation rate is better on the Movink but not to the point that it's impossible to draw on the Samsung, it's very much manageable and I paint on the Samsung semi regularly just fine. Killer feature of the movink Galaxy tab combo for me is that you can connect the movink to the Samsung as the secondary screen and use the pen. This is awesome and works as a very sweet mobile painting/working combo. Just an FYI if you want to use your movink with a Samsung tablet or phone - you'll need to plug in the second cable for power into the tablet for it to work.
Another important point to mention regarding the Movink and Samsung - Movink supports all Wacom pens, meaning you can use it with the pro pen 3 that comes with it, you can use it with the pro pen 2 and with all the IMR pens that work with Samsung tablets and phones (and other IMR tech enabled devices). I personally tested out the lamy AL star Wacom pen and UNI pencil digital - works as you'll expect a stylus to work. Pretty sweet if you consider the price of the IMR pens (yes the initial activation rate is lower then the pro pen 2 or 3 but they'll do in a pinch)
My current usecase: I connect the movink and Galaxy tab to my portable mini PC (minisforum UM790 pro) as screens. To make it work with the Samsung I use the Super display app. Great app, works really well, totally worth the price. Before I switched to the Samsung I used the ipad with Luna display to achieve the same result. Why do I need the Movink if I have the ipad and the Samsung? Two screens are better then one and dedicated screen tablet is nicer then any iOS/android device. Also changing settings and calibrating the screen is easier this way. And the pro pen.
General notes: The touch works very well, I would say quite a bit better then on my cintiq. Screen is decent. I don't mind it being 1080p, I'm way more interested in color accuracy on which it delivers. Portability is 10/10
Wishlist items: I would love to have a magnetic case/cover for it something like you could get for the ipad/Samsung.
All to all I'm very happy with my purchase. Movink does everything I want it to and then some (pen support and android support are very nice features for those who need it)
If you guys have any specific questions about it, I'll do my best to reply in the comments!
Cheers!

I have been mostly a wine drinker for some years, liquors/mixed drinks was mostly during the holidays or out to eat.
I do have trouble binge drinking, I have trouble just stopping after one. I am like a tornado, I want to keep going. What's weird is with alcohol, I tend to feel depressed and or anxious (Even my Dad when he was alive) he'd notice but at the same time, I would feel numb and want more to drink.
I want to stop for my health. Yes alcoholism runs in the family, but I know my liver enzymes can be elevated, I have GERD, I have osteoporosis..I think it's mostly alcohol that is adding on the weight. My drinking increased after my Dad passed away and it didn't help either when I lost a friend after several years thinking, she was a friend. She wasn't honest with me but I felt we had a lot in common. My dad and I got along really well and I was living with him. 2021 was a horrible year.
I keep thinking, "I can stop tomorrow" but then I have trouble going. I think I just need more will and self control.
I did go in 2021 two and a half months without alcohol (I stopped a month before my dad passed oddly enough). In January I was able to go a month (28 days) without alcohol.
Any tips of what to do far as binge drinking goes, dealing with triggers or what drinks can I have? I do have social anxiety too and I do tend to drink when I am around other people and they also drink. I have been drinking more the past 2 and a half years since I had to move out of my Dad's, (My roommate drinks too, everyone in the neighborhood does). I mostly am a Vodka mixed with sodas, or juices, etc drinker now.