Jobs in tahiti

Ter context; ik ben 22 jaar oud, van het mannelijke geslacht, een bijzonder goed betalende job, een respectabel kapitaal, en weinig reden om hier te blijven.
Om het kort te zeggen; het vet is hier van de soep, jong.
Ik ben de belastingen beu. Ikzelf werk mij geheel kapot, elke week 50 - 70 uur als een software-ingenieur, zowel in loondienst als in bijberoep. Ik riskeer 60% van al mijn inkomsten door ze te investeren. Als beloning voor al mijn harde werk, en het risico dat ik met mijn zuurverdiende kapitaal neem, mag ik zelf minder dan de helft (~46%) van al die inkomsten overhouden. En zelf ook nog eens diejen achterlijken brief invullen zodat de fiscus kan zien of ik wel "eerlijk ben over mijn inkomsten". De belastingsdienst kan tóch alles zien, waarom in godsnaam moet ik zoveel tijd in die belastingsaangifte zitten steken? Betaal ik niet letterlijk zo ongelooflijk veel belastingen zodat de fiscus hoogopgeleid personeel in dienst kan nemen om dat voor mij allemaal uit te zoeken? Belachelijk.
Ik ben de sociale zekerheid beu. Ikzelf ben een kerngezonde jonge mens zonder schoolgaande kinderen die gerust wilt werken voor de kost, dus ikzelf geniet van geheel niets. Mijn grootmoeder, die in een sociale woning vertoeft, geraakt nauwelijks rond met haar pensioentje van ~1600 euro. Als zij ooit naar een rusthuis moet, zal ik degene zijn die daarvoor mag betalen. Terwijl mag ik wel nieuwsartikels lezen over kansparels die voor één huishouden vol werkloze, Franssprekende parasieten meer dan 7000 euro in ontvangst nemen elke maand. Graag gedaan, jongens. Morgen sta ik wederom om 7u op om ervoor te zorgen dat het OCMW jullie kan blijven voorzien van dat "beperkte leefloon". Doe er gerust nog een jaartje of 5 over om Nederlands te leren spreken.
Ik ben de EU-regelgevingen beu. Waarom is het zomaar mijn probleem dat de EU hier alleen nog elektrische wagens wilt zien rondrijden? Ik moet het zomaar op de kin pakken dat een elektrische brolkar eventjes €20.000 - €40.000 duurder is dan een wagen op fossiele brandstof? Geen zorgen, als ik me geen EV kan veroorloven zak ik wel de te laat komende Congobus pakken, vadertje staat heeft natuurlijk wél voldoende centjes om daar elektrische exemplaren van uit China te laten overkomen. Dan kunnen we met z'n allen tesamen levend doodbranden wanneer we door het schaars onderhouden wegdek de door uitgebuite kindjes ineengestoken lithium-batterij kapot rijden.
Ik ben Vlaamse media beu. Als ik nog veel langer op de rufte kop van Niels Debladblazer moet zien, zal de vraag niet "is er Wifi op Tahiti?" luiden, maar "hoe in godsnaam hangt dieje kerel zijn brein aan den plafond?" Gelukkig kan ik een uurtje later dan wel kijken naar hoe Gert Verhulst er zijn door VTM geschonken miljoenen doorbonkt, zo kan ik me extra benullig voelen.
Ik kan zo nog veel zaken aankaarten - ons politieke circus, de kunstmatige sociale problemen die we van de Amerikaanse propagandamolen overnemen, massamigratie, de oneindige vloedgolf aan (groeps)verkrachtingen, de oneindige vloedgolf aan breinschade door kopschoppers, het Antwerpse kartel, het feit dat Brussel één groot niemandsland aan het worden is, godvergeten kut Wallonië, ...
Om het samen te vatten herhaal ik; het vet is hier van de soep.
Ik wil hier weg. Zelfs ik, die 190cm lang is en meer dan 95kg aan grotendeels spiermassa weegt, voel me hier niet meer veilig. Dit is geen omgeving waarin ik mijn kinderen groot wil brengen. Overigens ook geen land waarin ik wil sterven zodat de staat, als ultieme belediging, ook nog eens 30% van mijn tot hiertoe onstuimig belaste vermogen opslorpt vooraleer het naar mijn zaadlingen doorstroomt. Bij de kakkers in Knokke gaan zitten is niet mijn stijl, heb trouwens ook geen 2 miljoen liggen voor een appartementje.
De vraag is de volgende:
Als u alle middelen had, naar welk land zou u verhuizen om weg te geraken van alle typische Belgische zever, in het bijzonder de vele kansparels?
Met "alle middelen" bedoel ik voldoende geld om een bescheiden woning aan te schaffen en te kunnen leven voor enkele maanden terwijl je je situeert en integreert in de maatschappij van het land naar waar je verhuisd bent. Geen complicaties bij het verkrijgen van visa indien nodig.

Here's the thing. It's memory care. Not jail. And, it's coed! If two consenting adults-- who are by the way, dealing with feelings of loneliness, memories of past spouses, etc. want to spend time in each other's rooms and even get naked and perhaps even do it, why shouldn't they?
As long as one is not taking advantage of the other or hurting the other mentally or physically-- I think it's just a fact of life that humans seek connection!!
My grandma keeps mistaking another resident for her old bf. He seems to go along with it. They like each others company.
(Ok yes it's a bit disturbing but I have made peace with it-- she has dementia. She is impaired mentally. No explaining or reminding is going to help her to differentiate this man from her old bf.)
The staff are intervening! In the course of intervening the man apparently shoved an aid. (My question is, if they have such a problem with it why don't they intervene before she is even anywhere near his room?) They called the police. Then they called my mom to complain to her about my grandma's behavior and make sure she knows they HAD to call the police. They said there was nothing else they could do. Uhuh. But what can my mom do? Wave a magic wand? If she could my grandma would be nowhere near this place and we'd be in Tahiti. So she gets really angry and anxious about the whole thing-- anxious over my grandma's condition and the way they are treating her, angry that she pays $10,000 a month and they don't replace her toilet paper, do laundry, or make sure her clothes are changed or she wears her circulation socks-- but they go nuts over this. They told us to contact the man's family and have a MEETING with his family members over it. What the heck is that going to do???
My grandma had to sell her house to afford care. And the only reason we can stay is the rule that they can't kick you out after 2 years of paying.
Even with the high rent, the parking lot smells like weed and aids are on their phones all the time. I get it, it's a rough job. But damn the aids' pay must not reflect the rent there at all (some CEO must be scraping it all up) because they don't give a crap. But then, they do give a crap-- over the weirdest things! Like this!
My grandma is mobile and it's the bane of their existence. They hate having to follow her around in order to check on her. They would MUCH prefer if she was in a wheelchair and half asleep all the time like some of the residents are. They loooove just parking them in front of the TV.
The other thing: it's beautiful outside but they never take them out. Last summer my grandma went out 1 time. We'd take her out ourselves but it's a nightmare, she associates us with a chance to "go home back to her old life with her bf" and she starts to get really upset. She would never go back willingly and would fight us. It's terrible but she can't accept living there so it's impossible to for us to take her in and out without a full on battle.
I thought she could get used to it if she could understand she only has to sleep there, that we could take her out every day if she wanted. But of course she doesn't. It's the dementia. We can tell her, don't worry we'll be back tomorrow and she'll forget in 5 minutes.
We hired someone to take her outside the place (doesn't have to even be anywhere, just to get grass on her feet-- she used to do gardening) but so far they keep making excuses..and the memory care only validates them and expresses their doubts on going out (but guys-- it's not a prison!). The hired person won't give us a report unless we ask, and if we press them we learn they just were in her room that day, that they weren't able to go out, concerns about her walking ability or the parking lot or something else (excuses excuses).
Any advice for how to navigate their idiocy would be amazing.

The twin 250-hp Honda outboards on what was supposed to be a Thai Fast Ferry sputtered twice…then stopped. The derelict 40-foot open speed boat bobbed like a cork in the middle of the Andaman Sea. A quarter inch of fiberglass and a badly applied coat of paint separated me from a school of giant jellyfish that we drifted into. I scanned the concerned faces of the 20 other passengers crammed together on facing bench seats, all trying to find a scrap of shade in the polluted, faintly sunny 98-degree day with 80% humidity. Were we out of gas? I was worried. But then, I am a worrier – maybe not the best personality to have on a solo around the world trip. But I was on a broken boat. Plenty to worry about. Was my entire carefully planned trip about to descend into sweltering chaos? Memories of how I got here cascaded through my balding 69-year-old male head. When does a trip around the world begin? When you cross the threshold of your front door? When the tires on your plane leave the tarmac? Or when you finally disembark in a foreign land? For me, the adventure began on October 9th, 2023. I had just sat down to watch Monday Night Football when suddenly I had a massive widow-maker heart attack. Thanks to the fast thinking of my spouse and neighbors I was rushed to the hospital 40 miles away for successful surgery. The drama of the medical trauma is a story for another day but when I woke up in the recovery room I was confronted with the reality of my mortality. I now realized that I could die at any time, especially if I was alone. So, what was I to do with the rest of my life? From my job running a tiny firm that designs and builds nonprofit churches, schools, and care facilities I had saved up a bit for retirement and had about $30,000 of that in cash. Should I buy a new car? Make a down payment on a vacation home? I was faced with that horrible question: what is it that I really want to do before I die? I have always felt that we are all the combination of our experiences. A messy stew of ancestry, genetics, and life. With that in mind, I resolved to add to my own experiences in the most dramatic yet safe way that I could imagine: a solo trip around the world to all the places on my bucket list. I began with a set of rules: 1) Avoid cruise ship ports [I’ve been on several cruises]; 2) Don't avoid going to touristy places if I really want to see them; 3) Travel comfortably & stay in nice hotels so I will be rested; and most importantly: 4) Avoid all countries where women are second-class citizens. Then I listed the countries I wanted to visit: New Zealand, Thailand, Greece, Portugal, Italy, and more. I researched the stability, climate, history, along with the “top-10 places” in each country and considered those along with places that I already knew I wanted to go. My goal was to create a wide variety and remarkable experiences. I did a test run to see if it was possible to link the travel to each place I wanted to visit, spend a week, and then move on. The planning took almost six months. In the end I had a spreadsheet with 205 connections over 75 days leading me all the way back to where I started. During the planning, I spent three months working as hard as I could to save up an extra $10,000, and I exercised religiously to lose 15 pounds, gain cardio health, and to gain a bit of strength for the trip ahead. I began my adventure on March 26, 2024, leaving the Pacific Northwest and flying to the Garden Island of Kauai. I rented a car in Lihue and drove all the way around through the jungles of the east side up to the Napili Coast and then all the way around the drier west coast beyond Kekaha, stopping at every beach I could find. My favorite adventure was the spectacular Wiamea Canyon. For variety, I stayed cheap, at the Kauai Palms Motel in Lihue. This was my first “road trip” adventure. It rained almost every day, but never for more than an hour. The next stop was the French Polynesian heart-shaped island of Moorea. I hopscotched there via Oahu and Tahiti, then took the ferry. For variety, I stayed in a beachfront bungalow in Hauru on the northwest side and had amazing adventures kayaking, snorkeling, and exploring on a scooter. To top it off, I swam with Green Turtles and Black-tipped Reef Sharks. This was an “underwater camera” adventure. It was hot and humid, but not unbearably so. After a week in French Polynesia, I took the ferry back to Tahiti, flew to Auckland, New Zealand and then south to the fun little city of Queenstown, where I was glad I had brought a down coat. Queenstown became my base for more road trip adventures to Aoraki/Mt Cook – where I was rained out and never saw the mountain - and to Milford Sound - which is one of the most incredible places I have ever been. This taught me about balance. There will be some good and some bad. I resolved to enjoy the good to its fullest, and struggle through the bad and then forget it. Next on my list was Thailand. I flew from Queenstown to Auckland [beware of the layover], to Singapore, with its wonderful waterfall in the Changi Airport, and then to Krabi. From there I took a shuttle to the Ao Nang Villa Resort at Ao Nang Beach, which became my base for adventures in the Andaman Sea. Some of which I would rather forget. For variety, I took a ferry to Koh Kradan, an island so remote that there are no settlements, no roads, no vehicles, not even a bicycle, and the island is inaccessible at low tide. That’s where the ferry broke down. Three times. And if that wasn’t enough variety, I enjoyed the uninhibited party atmosphere of Ao Nang Beach and took a cruise along with everyone else to Maya Bay and the Phi Phi Islands, where I encountered my first dead person being carried by on a stretcher. Not an auspicious sign. From Ao Nang Beach, I flew to Bangkok and – for variety - stayed in an historic 3-bedroom guesthouse across the river from the Grand Palace. Upon entering, you must put your shoes in an antique chest of drawers. The dichotomy of the well-preserved ancient cultural neighborhood surrounded by miles of modern high rises was remarkable. But it was hot, a combined feel-like of 115 degrees Fahrenheit. To avoid heat stroke, I had to stay inside longer than I wanted. After Bangkok, I few to Doha, Qatar [beware the layover], and then to Athens Airport, which is not in Athens, but closer to Rafina, where I spent the night before taking a surprisingly luxurious ferry for only 30 euros to Andros Island, which is where I am now. The lush green Andros is the 2nd largest island in the Aegean, but it has no airport. For me that’s a good thing. I have continued my adventures by hiking to the only year-round waterfall in the Cyclades, and then climbing solo to the dramatic 800-year-old ruins of Castle Kastro, perched on a clifftop 1,800 feet above the Aegean Sea. End of Part 1 outline. You can see some great photos and read more about my travels on my Reddit community at AroundtheWorldTrips/.

The gang made several mistakes. Actually that’s probably an understatement. But which one do you guys think was the worst? For me, it’s not leaving after the valentine bank job, as adjusting for inflation that is definitely enough to get to Tahiti. I saw this in a different post, so you can find out more there(just scroll down and you’ll see it eventually)

All the band listed: Noisy Fate, Keishah, Watcha, Clone Inc., Guts Syndicate, Acid Blitz, Psykup, Mass Hysteria, No One Is Innocent, Oneyed Jack, Vegastar, Lofofora, LIK...ID, Eths, Black Bomb A, S-Core (hmm...), Hertz and Silence, Dagoba, Sikh, Scorch, Silmarils, Sidilarsen, Unswabbed, Stereotypical Working Class, peach f.t.l., Freedom For King Kong, Out, Mypollux, Kells, Munshy, Da'wa, Bawdy Festival, Babylon Pression, Flying Pooh, Kiemsa, La Logique Du Pire, Troides Priamus Hecuba, Furaya, Mensayak, Oedipe, D.Majiria, Twage, Alpha Project, Kobayes, Brasero, Inimikall and S.Box.
Yo, I gonna do something fucking mental. I gonna rank all the French nu metal bands (that I know of) ever. It will take a fucking month or 2 to do it but it will be so worth it. Alright. Let's test my mentality.
Pt.1:
Note: These are the bands I had pain/will have pain to rank: Watcha, No One Is Innocent, ONEYED JACK, and Lofofora.
Noisy Fate's Avoir l'air: (ranked November 2)

1. Destin bruyant (THAT'S THE NAME OF THE BAND IN FRENCH RANDOMLETTERSPAM)
2. Au Jour d'aujourd'hui
3. Encore une chance
4. Loin des flammes
5. Un sale temps
6. L'ordinaire (on dirait fucking midwest emo)
7. La cohérance
8. L'ère du vice
9. Le piège
10. Agir à tort
11. Avoir l'air
12. La t'no lover
13. Pluies acides

Album cover: It's so strange and quite unsettling. Not bad. High B.
Even tho it's more on the softer side of nu metal (if it was nu metal), it's still a great album. Gonna give a High-Mid A.
Keishah's Self Titled: (ranked November 2)

1. Le sang coule
2. Elle s'éveille
3. Dans mon repaire
4. Effacé
5. Ce pouvoir
6. Une journée ordinaire
7. Hidden Track
8. Explose
9. Ton regard d'effraies
10. Parasites
11. Uniforme
12. RLX
13. 1termede

Album Cover: It looks weird. Like a fish outside the glass jar? B tier.
I think it's one of the greatest French nu metal albums in this post. This is one of the bands that you have to show to people who want to know what's nu metal. S tier.
Watcha's Self Titled: (ranked November 6)

1. II II I IV II I I IV I
2. Mesaidaboom
3. Fun at All
4. Indigestion
5. Tout pourrit
6. Elle dort
7. X-Mass
8. À qui la faute
9. Kayanamasha
10. Sam
11. Méchant flou
12. Concrete Lie
13. Machine à sang
14. Paranoia

Album cover: It looks so simple and yet, still so cool. Low A.
We can compare this album with Keçkispasse?, just how fucking good it is. They are quite heavy too. High A.
Veliki Cirkus: (ranked November 6)

1. Hard Core 100% Fluor
2. 101 Radio Racket
3. New Brutal Fonk
4. Clash
5. Tambata
6. Sofa Masta
7. Sam2
8. Veliki Cirkus
9. Cupide
10. Egalamonego
11. www.a/grave/pas/mon/k@
12. Dead Man (Is a Good Man)

Album cover: What in a fuck am I seeing? Is that a fucking dinosaur? C tier.
Can we fucking talking about the distortion of the guitar? It's so damn heavy, à la Seo Taiji. Great album, high A. (Gonna rank Watcha later)
Mutant: (ranked January 17)

1. Vibe m
2. I.A.
3. Doc'
4. La rumeur
5. Dunk Barrow le baron
6. Sam III
7. Borné
8. Clean
9. And The Beat Goes On
10. Cool
11. Mutant
12. King Anymore
13. Narrow Minded

They still hit good... High A.
Clone Inc.'s X Y: (Ranked November 3):

1. Mes manques
2. L'affut de la fin
3. Syst(m).Core
4. Ma théorie X Y
5. 1, 2, 3, 4 Syncope
6. L'inceste 3-3
7. État d'sauvage
8. Psychédélique
9. Le cycle infini
10. Apnée

Album cover: Looks stylized as hell. It's weird with the rest but it's still cool. High B.
Could they have at least one consistently heavy song (Apnée doesn't count)? low A.
Guts Syndicate's Laisse faire: November 12

1. Guts Syndicate
2. Laisse faire
3. Mystère 2 l'éducation
4. On est bien + chez' oit
5. Fight Core
6. Lop'sa

Album cover: Ok... Now that's something I love. GREAT ART. High A.
It was heavy, alright. But I wish they were more energetic. Mid-A.
Acid Blitz's discography (there are like 5 songs in total...): (ranked November 13)

1. 18
2. 20
3. 15
4. 13
5. 11

Album cover: For Neuroactive. This one is super sick. S tier. But for Nouveau Son, it looks more simpler but still cool. High A.
I wish they made a bigger EP or an album. Their discography was nice. A.
Psykup's le temps de la réflexion: (ranked November 11, oopsie)

1. Libido
2. Rebirth & Succession
3. Insipid
4. Martin X Part 2
5. Time & Space
6. Teacher
7. L'autruche
8. La peur du vide
9. Or Not To Be
10. Martin X Part 1
11. To Be(tray)

Art cover: I'm actually impressed with how it looks. It looks strange in a good way. High A.
It's so zany and crazy sometimes. That's a very great album. High A.
Mass Hysteria: Le bien-être et la paix: (ranked November 6)

1. Hard Corps (Les fils du vice)
2. L'homme qui en savait trop rien
3. Unique
4. Gone
5. Donnez-vous la peine
6. Shine
7. Respect to the Dance Floor
8. MH 2 C.E.S.
9. L'effet papillon
10. Knowledge Is Power
11. Mass Protect

Album cover: The colors around it seem nice. Man, what a blissful day it was, back in the day. High B.
Eh... It's not bad, I guess. Some tracks are very good while the rest doesn't do much. B tier.
Contraddiction: (ranked November 7)

1. Attracteurs étranges
2. Finistère amer
3. P4
4. Zion
5. Le plus just effect (Irie)
6. Le dernier tango
7. Osmos '99
8. Contraddiction
9. Furia
10. Aimable à souhait
11. Sur la brèche
12. Corazones Olvidados

Album cover: What the fuck happened to the baby? It'S creepy as hell. B tier.
This album is a bit better. So I'm gonna give it a High B
De cercle en cercle: (ranked November 7)

1. La canopée
2. La puissance bienvenue
3. Montherlant
4. Remède
5. L'importance du sort
6. Millenium apprauvi
7. Ya-Vyemma
8. L'harmonie invisible
9. La Adventura Humana
10. Coup2mass
11. Temps mort
12. Fragment
13. Immixtion

Album cover: It looks so empty, so abandoned. Thanks to the astronaut and the background. High B.
Now, that's an album I like. I like them when they are more Alt Rock than Industrial Metal. Gonna give a mid-A.
No One Is Innocent's Self Titled: (ranked November 8)

1. Épargne-moi
2. Henry, Serial Killer
3. Ne reste-t-il que la guerre pour tuer le silence?
4. Rusted Faces
5. Genocide
6. La peau
7. Le feu
8. Nova
9. Gratitude
10. They Learn Your Love
11. Beast In A Bottle
12. Another Land

Album cover: Well, Low B.
The middle is the best while the first/last few were less good. It's still not bad. Low A to High B.
Utopia: (ranked November 9)

1. Black Garden
2. Woman
3. Nomenklatura
4. Inside
5. Invisible
6. Two People
7. Ce que nous savons
8. Amère
9. Neuromatrix
10. Chile
11. Radio 101
12. Pinecrest Solution
13. Le poison
14. Autobahn Babies

Album cover: Well. that's just old man. B tier.
Eh... Just eh... Some songs are good but the rest is uh... average. It doesn't stand out much. B tier.
Oneyed Jack's Cynique: (ranked November 9)

1. Cynik
2. 128
3. Le pouvoir
4. Da Borgn
5. Push Your Face Down
6. Tribe
7. Otage
8. Bad Brian Killer
9. La peine
10. Himalaya
11. Zéro

Album cover: It looks unsettling, but it's still cool. Low A.
I like the energetic rap songs more than most of this album. It feels slow and bland. So, gonna give it a B.
Arise: (ranked November 9-10)

1. La choléra - Hip Hop
2. Real
3. You Shouldn'?
4. Shameless
5. Alièné
6. I Can't Work For Shit
7. Escape
8. Funk Hope
9. Do You Feel Me?
10. I Swear
11. Chemical Clouds
12. Ma seule joie
13. Will I Arise
14. MK 2 Mix

Album cover: B tier.
OMG, such a boring album and it was long, too. Gosh, it was just background music. C tier.
Prepare to Reactivate: (ranked November 10)

1. Easy
2. Oneyed vs Interlope
3. I Pay
4. Invincible
5. NF
6. 200 000 prises de tête
7. Auch
8. Crache ma mère
9. J'aime cet hôpital
10. inna Hole Pt. 1 + Pt. 2
11. Prepare to Reactivate
12. Much More
13. La Finca
14. Funk Doo Scratch
15. MK DJ Crew

Album cover: Look futuristic, it's not bad. B tier.
I'm free... I'M FREE!!! At least it's a bit better than Arise. C.
Vegastar's un nouvel orage: (ranked November 11)

1. L'étincelle
2. À se demande
3. Comme un aimant
4. Elle blesse
5. À cause de toi
6. Trouver l'issue
7. Maître de ma vie
8. Une nuit
9. Un nouvel orage
10. L'ombre de vos vies
11. 100ème otage
12. La faille
13. Mon repaire
14. Savourer tes pleurs
15. Mortem

Album cover: So this is how they look like. Eeeeeh... Low B.
It's a very good accessible album, I like Noisy Fate better, tho. Mid-A.
Lofofora's Dur comme fer: (ranked November 13)

1. Weedo
2. 5 milliards
3. Rêve et crève en démocratie
4. Incarné
5. 1 million
6. Les gens
7. Charisman
8. Série B
9. Dur comme fer
10. Au secours
11. Les liquides de mon corps
12. Partouze musical gang bang orale

Album cover: It looks very cool. It got a style. A tier.
It's was an enjoyable album. Very hardcore. Mid-A.
Le fond et la forme: (Ranked November 13)

1. Carapace
2. Psaume Cac 40
3. Comme à la guerre
4. Ici ou ailleurs
5. Social Killer
6. L'emprise
7. Auio-pilote
8. Le fond et la forme
9. Série Z
10. Alarme citoyen
11. Requiem pour moi-même
12. Histoire naturelle
13. Bienvenue
14. Hidden Track

Album cover: It looks quite fancy. A tier.
It's a bit weaker than Dur comme fer but it's good. Low A.
LIK...ID's Élevé à la peur: (ranked November 13)

1. Vrai
2. El le reste suivra
3. Prendre un temps
4. Jusqu'a bout
5. Immoral
6. Épilogue
7. Je me sens bien (baguette)
8. Supplice des nerfs
9. Impertinence
10. Peur
11. La blanche
12. Préface
13. C'est ainsi

Album cover: Huh?! I mean, I do appreciate the effort they went through but what is this? It's very stange so High B.
It reminded me of some Japanese bands with the sound of the vocalist. Good album. Mid-A.
Eths's Autospie: (ranked 15 November)

1. Le chair et le sang
2. Le mâle
3. Autospie
4. A la droite de Dieu
5. Dévore
6. Pourquoi
7. Des hommes bon

Album cover: There's something about this feeling being quite somber. B tier.
Dark, heavy and funkeeeehhh... Man, great EP. S tier.
Samantha: (ranked 15 November)

1. Des cendres
2. Intro + Samantha
3. Le project humain
4. Volée
5. Encore
6. Animadversion
7. Entends-tu

This is straight up dark. Jesus... A tier.
I think this EP went darker than Autospie, heavier in some parts, too. It's another great one. S tier.
Soma: (ranked 15 November)

1. Je vous hais
2. Le fruit des anges
3. Infini
4. Simiesque
5. Crucifère
6. Rutsah
7. Ailleurs c'est ici
8. Spetum Lucidum
9. Méléna
10. Détruis-moi
11. Elle s'endort
12. L'instant sourd
13. Hidden Track

Album cover: Wow, I like this one. It's very creepy and cute...? If that is the right word. High A.
It's another great album from Eths. They got a bit smoother...? And yet, they are still heavy. S tier.
Black Bomb A's Straight In The Vain: (Ranked November 15)

1. Judge
2. Law' Phobia
3. Shot
4. Hostile Infection
5. Born To Die

Album cover: This is straight up hardcore. Low A.
It was pretty good but doesn't stand out a lot. Mid-A.
Human Bomb: (ranked November 16)

1. My Mind Is A Pussy
2. Down
3. Your Enemy
4. Project
5. Get Out Da Bastards
6. Police Stopped Da Way
7. Everlast
8. Make Communication With God + Make Your Choice
9. You Can't Save Me
10. Human Circus
11. Hidden Track

Album cover: B tier.
They are groovy and heavy, AND they stand out. S tier.
Speech Of Freedom: (ranked January 25)

1. Fine Talkers
2. Legalize Me
3. Reject For Me
4. New Wars
5. No One Knows
6. Who Fucks Who?
7. Burn
8. Shoot At The Gossip
9. Double
10. Madman
11. Look At The Pain
12. Mary

Album cover: Normally, I don't like skeletons, but it goes qukte hard. A tier.
They went core with this one, while still having its nu-metal roots. It's heavy, some chorus seems to be off. S tier.
S-Core's Riot...Process Engaged: (ranked November 16)

1. Hate Your Faith
2. God Sells War
3. The Things
4. R.Vince Smith
5. Riot
6. Hate (Fuel For My Engine)
7. Depressive Am I
8. Embrace The Pain
9. Four
10. Nothing
11. Fee Real
12. Process Engaged

Album cover: This is just fucking creepy, I love it. S tier.
Now that's a great album. You know, I was skeptical with this band. Like they are great, but are they nu? It feels like they are more Groove than Nu. But still, S tier.
Hertz & Silence's Biological: (ranked November 20)

1. 37 Sec
2. Animal
3. Find Me - Watch Me - Raise Me
4. 01 At Ypic + Lost
5. I Am
6. Parasite
7. 6equj5
8. Déchiré
9. Keep In Step
10. Outside The Screen

Album cover: You know, bugs are bugs, but bugs can be cool bugs. Youknowimsaying? A tier.
This is the chuggiest album I ever fucking heard. Jesus Christ. I don't know if I want to give this album an S, in terms of heaviness or a low A, in terms of creativity.
Dagoba's Self Titled: (ranked November 26)

1. 4.2 Destroy
2. Act 1, Pt. 2
3. Dopesick
4. Another Day m?
5. Here We Are
6. Gods Forgot Me
7. The White Guy (And The Black Ceremony)
8. Torture To Enslavement + Maniak
9. Pornscars
10. Rush
11. Something Stronger
12. waste Contained in a Crystal Ball + Year of the Scapegoat

Album cover: Such a big contrast with the brutal instruments with ''bubbly'' image. The logo looks cool, I GUESS. B tier.
It got some repetitive riffs, that's for sure. But god DAMN!! It's heavy. S tier.
Sikh's Self Titled: (ranked December 1)

1. Kallaghan V.1.02
2. I Can't Take It
3. Planet B
4. Ground Zero
5. W.E.A.R.E
6. Malingo
7. Foofipe City
8. Maderica
9. Choirs
10. Blizzard

Album cover: Ok, I'll do it. It looks Sikh as fuck. Just the heart looking like a brain with the man on middle. So cool, S tier.
It's a pretty nice album. Really heavy. LOVE THE BASS. High A.
One More Piece: (ranked December 2)

1. One More Piece
2. Pshychotro
3. Box My Balls
4. Ocean
5. Hammering The Sun
6. Hollywood
7. Halcyon Days
8. Ballad Of The Harmless
9. The Quake
10. 5seasons
11. Slaves Of The 70s - Whiskey

Album cover: It's very weird and cool. A tier.
It reminds me of Slipknot (Vol.3) and (Hed) P.E.. The sound is a bit more unique than the last one. It is also another case of ''the tracks is getting better and better''. High A,
Scotch's À genoux: (ranked December 2)

1. 29 secondes + À genoux
2. Noir et blanc
3. Fbtg
4. Le dernier
5. L'effet S.asch
6. Du droit du plus fort
7. Le masque tombe
8. Tout ça passera
9. Boomerang
10. Ëtre ange
11. La belle est la bête
12. Momento Mori (LIKE IN DBD!!?!?!??!?!)

Album cover: This is a bit creepy but not much. The puppet looks a bit too simple. High B.
Their heaviness is on par with Pleymo's Keçkipasse or even closer to Eths. Maybe that's an exaggeration but MAN, they are heavy. S tier.
Pt.2:
Bands that are a pain in the ass to rank: Silmarils, Freedom For King Kong and Unswabbed.
Silmarils's Vegas 76: ranked (December 5)

1. 1980
2. Two Shots For The King
3. Copacabana
4. Missing Files
5. Je ne t'en veux pas
6. Rock With It
7. Boogie
8. For My City
9. You Want Me
10. Va y avoir du sport
11. Monica
12. Get Off My Back
13. Jesus Burn
14. Jennifer

Album cover: That's ain't it, D tier.
So the first album I decided to rank was not nu metal. Eeeeeuuuuhhhh... Should have ranked the 1997 fist. Anyway. It's way too chill. Some songs are good but the rest, eeeh... Low B.
4life: (ranked December 5)

1. Je n'dois à personne
2. Quelqu'il en reste
3. Folk Song
4. Always Shine
5. Le 3ème tour
6. Smart
7. Animal
8. Pour ça
9. on est pas comme ça
10. Guerilla
11. Grass Smoking

Album cover: In one side, I think ''Hell Yeah!''. But on the other hand. Eh... B tier.
This album makes me feel cool, listening to this. The rapping is nice. Good riffage. Gonna give it a low A.
Sidilarsen's Biotop: (ranked December 5)

1. Apesanteur
2. L'homme mécanique
3. Rien pour l'instant
4. Biotop
5. Sidistation
6. Total écran
7. Dressés par les ondes
8. Teknotrône
9. Défragmentés
10. Bbmw
11. Cardiotronic
12. Heretik System Remix

Album cover: What the fuck? It surely gives a vibe but I can't help but to be disturbed.
The first half was good but I'm less fan of the second electronic half of it. High B.
Eau: (ranked December 5)

1. À qui je nuis le pardonne
2. La morale de la fable
3. Surhomme
4. Le fer
5. Prédiction
6. Fluidité
7. De temps à autre
8. Elle me tends toujours la main
9. La fibre
10. La parole
11. Ethereal

Album cover: It's simple but beautiful. Low A.
They stepped up more which I like, but they kinda stray away from nu metal. It is still nu metal, just less, now. High B.
Unswabbed's Self Titled: (ranked December 12)

1. Intimes souffrances
2. En Silence
3. Paranoïaque
4. Le lien
5. Défier l'ennui
6. Ailleurs
7. Laissés en vrac
8. Coma
9. Si souvent
10. Ne tient qu'à un fil
11. Le monde ne tourne pas ronde
12. Shred Up
13. 8-6 Interlude

Album cover: Well, C tier.
I love the fact they make heavy verses with the catchiest choruses. This is a great album, that's for sure. High-Mid A.
Instinct: (ranked 12 December)

1. Devenir personne
2. Comme un autre
3. Encore sourire
4. Sur la brèche
5. Paumé
6. Seul
7. Invisible
8. Sans faire de bruit
9. La chute
10. Sans limite
11. Rien à perdre
12. Un monde parfait
13. Jusqu'à l'aube

You, the detailed bug and the grit around the bug is cool. A tier.
Holy fuck, they demi-double down on the heaviness. It's heavier with still the catchiest choruses. High A.
In Situ: (ranked January 22)

1. Ma dernière heure
2. Libre comme l'air m
3. Sauvés
4. Remonter le temps
5. Faire pause
6. Comme hier
7. L'écho de vos âmes
8. Un monde sans pitié
9. Les nerfs à vif
10. À la dérive
11. Ma place
12. Pourquoi
13. Addict

Album cover: Baffling, D tier.
Ok, even their melody have some sense of heaviness in their songs. It's quite impressive. I don't know if it's better than Instinct but it is still High A.
Stereotypical Working Class' Illusion: (ranked December 5)

1. Behind
2. Already Lost
3. Chorar
4. Illusion
5. Misc
6. A Few Thing To Forget
7. Hidden Track
8. Last
9. Instinct

It looks genuinely amazing. Like HOLY! S tier.
This is just great album. It's very Incubus. S.C.I.E.N.C.E. and Make Yourself together. High A.
Sans repères: (ranked January 24)

1. Lucide
2. Silence
3. Insecure
4. Sorrow
5. Sans repères
6. Here We Go Again
7. Si J'en sors
8. That's All Right
9. Bustabraï
10. Selfish
11. Karma
12. Nothing At All
13. No End For A Circle
14. Interlude 2
15. Interlude 1

Album cover: I will surely not think they will be Alt Metal. It's ok. B tier.
I think is the best album of the three. They still have energy while also having melody, unlike its successors where they're being more softer. S tier.
Day After Day; (ranked December 5)

1. Looking For Break
2. The Rest
3. Walk Away
4. Hartigan's Last Bullet
5. Still Alive
6. Calendar
7. So Sorry
8. Bustaflow
9. Narcolepsy
10. Coming Home
11. Destructed
12. Nobody's Wrong

Album cover: I like the nightly vibe, there. Very lovely, High A.
You know, they have a bigger melody than the EP I listened to before, it's good. But I miss the funky sound of the band. But still, High-Mid A.
peach f.t.l.'s Addiction: (Ranked December 5)

1. Pardonne-moi
2. Irreversible envie
3. Dévoile - Maxi
4. 01:45 am
5. Subliminal
6. Kahuna
7. Le ciel et l'éternel
8. Mes sens
9. L'empreinte
10. Je n'était pas
11. Émoi
12. Crêve

Album cover: Hmm... C tier.
Now, that's an album. I want to hear. High A.
Supernova: (ranked December 6)

1. J'ai fini par croire
2. On meurt ensemble
3. Juste une histoire
4. Supernova
5. Dans vos yeux
6. Conscience
7. Si...
8. À quoi bon
9. Mauvais choix
10. Hidden Track
11. Regarde toi en face
12. Instants
13. L'être et le mal
14. 90kms

Album cover: Fun. High B.
Ok, this is way better than Addiction. S tier.
Freedom For King Kong's Citoyens du monde: (ranked December 12)

1. Les pensers
2. Souriez
3. Donne de la choix
4. L'impasse
5. H
6. Révolution
7. Cekikontatou
8. Babylone
9. Serial looser
10. Mauvais zélé ment
11. La boucle
12. Afrique ma mère
13. Rackam (le raise)
14. Me me, me me, me me, 1er
15. Me me, me me, me me, 2ème
16. Me me, me me, me me, 3ème

Album cover: LOOK AT THE CUTE GORILLA AYOUBOUYOUBOUB, anyway. S tier.
I hope we won't have a Oneyed Jack, that will suck so bad. Anyway, this is not bad. It got some boring songs but some were pretty good. B.
Primate diplomate: (ranked December 12)

1. Boîte de nuit story
2. Les étiquettes
3. Jamais politiquement correct
4. Un mec qu'aime bien ça? + Chaos
5. Phénix
6. Le cour des miracles
7. 100%
8. Deo miso
9. Comme un fou
10. Rencontre
11. A.K.A.
12. J'aurai voulu

Album cover: The primate looks badass anf funny. High A.
Okay, thank god we didn't have a Oneyed Jack moment. ANYWAY! This is better than Citoyens du monde. That is for damn sure. High B.
Marche ou rêve: (ranked December 17)

1. Amour propre
2. Marche ou rêve
3. Des plumes
4. Modern Faust
5. Phénomène
6. Sodocratie
7. Gun Tune
8. Le syndrome de Peter Pan
9. Les marionettistes
10. Primatologie
11. Le figurant

Album cover: This got some good style and monke. High A.
This is getting kinda better. They passed the vibe check. Low A.
Out's X-Position (I'm not doing the self titled one): (ranked 17 December)

1. Les voix du silence
2. Girl X Man
3. Left In Limbo
4. Will
5. Bio Burger
6. Watch Me In
7. Who's Alive
8. X Position
9. Nine Hates
10. Lie No Lights
11. Like A Fish

Album cover: Woah... A tier.
The riffs were actually pretty good. It feels like they tried to do their own thing. But man. they all sound the same, it was honestly hard to rank this album. A tier.
Mypollux's Trouble amarante: (ranked 18 December)

1. L'éclat
2. Grage
3. Toc + Nuit blanche
4. Chanson pour Mars-Aile
5. Éclipse de fonds
6. Trois petits points...
7. Madame tranquille
8. I don't care
9. Toc-toc
10. Lapsus
11. Si je m'endors
12. Leïloqi

Album cover: Ok, DAMN! That's dope. High A.
This is definitively one of the most unique sound in this ranking. Love it. High A.
Contraires: (ranked December 23)

1. Jeu
2. L'ore et le coton
3. Coffre à souhaits
4. Qui dort dine
5. Ubiquité
6. Par défaut
7. Eau + Chrysallide
8. Paraffine
9. Lettre à ma bulle
10. Mon lit à baldquin
11. Notre nouveau monde
12. Contrego

Album cover: Creepy and fancy. S tier.
It's less better than its predecessors but it's good. Mid-A.
Kells's Lueurs: (ranked December 23)

1. Le ciel m
2. In Utero m
3. Mes rêves
4. Lueur
5. Sans teint
6. Le dictate sure le silence
7. Merveilles
8. La sphère
9. Ailleurs
10. Délivre-moi
11. Rémininscence + Avant que tu...
12. Sur le fil

Album cover: GODDAMN, WHY IT IS SO BEAUTIFUL??!! S tier.
Ok, now THAT'S an album. S tier.
Munshy's Self Titled: (ranked December 26)

1. No Drama m
2. On My Shoulder
3. Joue de pluie
4. So Tired m?
5. Satisfied
6. Liberate + 2
7. Under My Bed
8. Not Otherwise
9. Rotten
10. Whales

Album cover: This is quite nice. A tier.
Ok, this album is very unique, unlike some bands in this ranking post. Pretty nice. S tier.
Da'wa's Apportez demain: (ranked December 27)

1. Taire l'élément
2. Toutes griffes dehors
3. Le trou
4. Son coeur à la rue
5. La page blanche
6. 211212
7. Intras
8. Je ne suis pas
9. Dramogram
10. J'vais changer
11. Femelle
12. Détournement d'honneur

Album cover: It this something alright.
They are good but kinda generic. Low A.
Pt.3:
Band that will be a pain in the ass to rank: La Logique Du Pire. Troides Priamus Hecuba
Bawdy Festival's Tri Nox Samoni Into The Weird Side: (ranked December 30)

1. Boogalion Mafia
2. Shake ta boulimie
3. Get Clowned
4. Cross Road

Album cover: ...S tier.
This is an interesting EP... Very gimmicky. A tier.
Into The Weird Side: (ranked December 30)

1. Clown Soldier
2. Back In Da Wood
3. Freak Side
4. Where Is My Ball!?
5. Fashion Metal
6. Shake ta boulimie
7. Bawdy Mother Fucker
8. Cross Road
9. Battle dans l'cul
10. Get Clowned
11. Boogalion Mafia
12. Hxclown
13. D.O.A.K.
14. Into The Weird Side

Album cover: This is sheer badassery. S tier.
Ok, the fact that this album is all live is very interesting. It was a great experience. High A.
Babylon Pression's Négative Génération: (ranked January 3)

1. La fange m
2. Contre-courant
3. La confession
4. Schizo
5. R.M.I.
6. Personne
7. J'oublie
8. Champion Lova
9. Négative génération
10. Émeute

Album cover: Holy shit! That caught me off guard, the more I look into it. High B.
Ok, this is a lovely album. High A. BTW, is it just me or French nu metal bands are more prone to have reggae elements in their music? Idk.
Travaille, consomme et meurs: (ranked January 5)

1. Tellement de connards, si peu de cartouches
2. Ne perds pas ou je te tue
3. J'ai 30 and et j'ai rien fait
4. Déjà mort
5. Esclave de la patrie
6. Je ne sers à rien
7. Demagloria
8. Seul parmis les autres
9. La France a peur
10. La vie sous vide
11. Sandwich à la merde
12. Responsable mais pas coupable

Album cover: I know France is angry and the image tells a message. But it looks so ridiculous. B tier.
Imagine Unswabbed but heavier and ANGRIER, that's what I think about this album. They actually stepped up their game. S tier.
Flying Pooh's Spanking Day (If only Viva San Antonio was on streaming services): (ranked January 6)

1. Spanking Day
2. Good Morning Sweet Heart
3. My Lovely Ghost
4. Super Pin-up
5. Get Drunk
6. Myaghi
7. Your Life
8. Wanna Kill a Rock-Superstar
9. Me, I and Myself + Be Fat!

Album cover: What. C tier.
This is one of the weirdest and unique bands of this ranking post. They can be funky, groovy, punky, scary AND they will probably affect your psyche (hyperbole). High A.
Kiemsa's Nuits rouges: (ranked January 25)

1. Utopie
2. Bavarde
3. Brise-Glace
4. Désir
5. Jazzz Nemesis
6. Oversun
7. Cinéma
8. L'atelier fantôme
9. Salut à toi (L'intermittent)
10. Le théâtre du bruit
11. Intro + Pourquoi tu the bats
12. Apparence(s)
13. Ivresse
14. D-Block

Album cover: Why is it so cool?! S tier.
This is one of the most fun albums to listen to. It's like 40% nu metal, 60% ska. Good one. Mid-A.
Eaux troubles: (ranked January 26)

1. Sans un mot
2. Kiemsa Sucks
3. Méchant pas content
4. Spectre
5. Tequila Guerrilla
6. Qui veut savoir?
7. Dans les profondeurs + Mass Media
8. Armada
9. Please Stay
10. Orange Duck
11. Faut consommer

Album cover: Another banger S tier.
I don't know if this is better than the previous album or not, but it is still enjoyable. Mid-A.
La Logique du Pire's Coûte que coûte: (ranked January 6)

1. Au centuple
2. Coûte que coûte
3. L'espoir
4. Une vie entière pour mourir
5. Numerus Clausus
6. Pas de faiblesse
7. Jour après jour
8. Privés de lumière

Album cover: I already saw Unswabbed so I guess it's look kinda cool. High B.
Industrial as HEEELLLL!! They are good, i guess. Low A.
Hiro Shima: (ranked January 7)

1. Étouffés
2. Bête à concours
3. Masses critiques
4. Seuls contre tous
5. Personne en face
6. Courir
7. Atomik Bomb Killer
8. Le partisan
9. Est ouest
10. Re-produire
11. Le souffle du diable
12. Hiroshima

Album cover: Wow, that is quite painful... Low A.
That one is good too, got nothing to say. Mid A.
Troides Priamus Hecuba's Bienvenue à Biolandz: (ranked January 12, 11 SUPPOSEDLY)

1. Pt l'poing sur la table
2. Axxxepte
3. De la bouffe pour les porcs
4. Opposés
5. Boulot, boulot...
6. Nos valeurs
7. Aigriculture
8. Pmou
9. Bienvenue à Biolandz + Le tout pour le rien
10. La tête dans le sable
11. Adrenochome

Album cover: Wow, can't find a high quality image of that, huh. It's cool. High B.
Buncha rhythmic weirdos. They are great in rapping, holy crap. I thought I will have a hard time to listening to them but. Not really, huh? A tier.
Vous êtes ici: (Ranked January 25)

1. Message de paix
2. Nous
3. T Ki?
4. Wock'n Woll
5. L'alchimiste
6. Fuck le pipole
7. Cyborg
8. Porquoi tu mens?
9. La rézistance est tenace
10. Skyzonoïa
11. MP2P3
12. No Present
13. Cimetière Indien

Album cover: Quite a ftting image from their funny sound. High B.
I think this is better than the last album. It's way more energetic and a bit heavier. High A.
Furaya's Self Titled: (ranked January 7)

1. Bullshit
2. Amnésique
3. Impitoyable
4. La rage
5. Bernard
6. Africa

Album cover: There's two image. The man, LOVE IT WITH THE COLORS. S tier. The another one, looks ridiculous. C tier.
Ooh... This one is just generic. It did the job, tho. B tier.
Mensayak's Mondialiénation: (ranked January 7)

1. Assassins
2. L'axe du Mal
3. Système monde
4. Priorité à l'éducation
5. Bastà!
6. Indipendenza

Album cover: Again, message and stuff but eh... C tier.
See, that one is less generic. It's a bit better than Furaya. High B.
Self Titled: (ranked January 7)

1. Vergona a te
2. Mars m?
3. L'éclipse
4. 1962
5. Appétit colonial
6. Priorité

Album cover: Now, it tries to be fancy, good one. Low A.
The vocalist makes this album much more interesting and unique than the last album. I'm quite impressed. Low A.
Oedipe's Amaeru: (ranked January 8)

1. Futile
2. Gravites
3. Pardonne-moi
4. Marquise
5. Libre
6. Amaeru
7. Le lien
8. Le reflet
9. Terre promise
10. Contre moi
11. Mon automne
12. Âmes perdues (Holy shit, the biggest riff in the end)

Album cover: It's genuinely beautiful. Just WOW! S tier.
I love this album. The melody, the catchiness, hmm!! Love it. S tier.
D.Majiria's On a marché sur la Terre: (ranked January 12)

1. Contre sens
2. Faces
3. Sans toi
4. La corde raide
5. Cercle vicieux
6. Hidden Track (La mort du choix)
7. État paradoxal
8. Leur monde
9. Les enfants du sang
10. Mauvais fils
11. Semer le doute
12. La route du paradis
13. Elle me tue
14. La mort du choix

Album cover: The background looks actually nice. Barely visible but it's good. Low A.
High A, pretty good, really good.
Hybridacide.com: (ranked January 24)

1. Bombardier
2. Faces
3. Psychepultura
4. Origan
5. Rire cruel
6. aCIDe.com
7. Buenas Tardes
8. Ramirez
9. Le libre arbitre
10. Jeux dangereux
11. Hybride
12. Tahiti Bob
13. L'absente

Album cover: CIRCLE (or SPIRAL). B tier.
Some were eh, but the later parts were interesting. Low A to High B.
Twage's Self Titled: (ranked January 12)

1. Respire m
2. À force de m
3. Guerre sainte
4. Luxure et excès
5. Pardonne-moi

Album cover: It is something, I guess. B tier.
A very accessible EP. Pretty nice. High A.
Alpha Project's Seconde d'éternité: (Ranked January 13)

1. Faux semblants
2. Un monde meilleur
3. Pas facile
4. Tous ces mots
5. Ange guardien
6. Ensemble
7. Changer tout ça
8. Seconde d'éternité
9. Evidence
10. Dis-moi
11. Quelques larmes

Album cover: It looks ethereal but at the same time eh...?
This is another case of ''this album is getting better and better''. That one was actually hard to rank cuz they all sound the same. It's very accessible, à la Linkin Park. A tier.
Kobayes's à bout de souffle: (ranked January 14)

1. Monster
2. Carpe Diem
3. À bout de souffle
4. N'¸être que soi
5. Kobfeat
6. Nouveau monde
7. Lever les yeux
8. Apokalypse
9. Do You Like My Sexy Shoes?
10. Le prix à payer
11. K.D.S.
12. Simple comme une balle

Album cover: Fuck, it's creepy. Cool. Low A.
GOD, I love their sound. The thrashy hardcore sound. It was energetic as hell. S tier.
Brasero's Malade mental: (ranked January 14)

1. Sinistrose
2. Le 13ème guerrier
3. Vampirisme
4. Psycho romantique
5. Backside
6. Malade mental (they just saying every mental illness)
7. Fanatisme
8. La dame blanche
9. L'associé du diable
10. Chute libre
11. Automne à Brighton

Album cover: This one is uninteresting. D tier.
It's not bad. They have a few that sound ''unique'' but the rest is fairly just nu metal. Low A-High B.
Inimikall's Urban Division: (ranked January 14)

1. 1968 Broken Army
2. Un aller simple m
3. Amnesia
4. Une nouvelle ère
5. Holly
6. Urban Division
7. Hollywood Star
8. Homesick radio

Album cover: Holy shit. I like it! A tier.
Oh, wow. That's nice. Uhh... They are heavy, uhhhhhhhhhhhh... They good. A tier. OKNOWTHELASTBANDLETSGO!!!!!!!
S.box's el viaje: (ranked January 14)

1. Juste là
2. Au gré des vagues
3. Opic
4. Je rêve
5. L'envol
6. Les couleurs
7. Les choses changent
8. Glassjar
9. Un autre monde
10. xxx

Album cover: That one is just beautiful, huh? S tier.
This is probably the best album of all the ranking posts. It's just hit hard!! S tier.
FINALLY, IT'S DONE!! It has been more than 3 month I have worked on this. Worth it. I can do my other project, now. You don't know HOW MUCH I am relieved to finish this. I know, This is the longest ranking post ever from me. Pretty sure this post won't ever be dethroned.
So what do you think of this ranking post? Good? Bad?

Iaorana. I spent a lot of time planning and preparing for this vacation, learned a lot from this subreddit, and wanted to share what I learned. I'm vegetarian and have medical dietary concerns (too much refined carbs will mess with me), so will call out a lot of specific details related to food. (I might make a separate post on vegerarian. I've seen a few comments suggesting to just adopt the local eating customs - that is easier said than done! Last time someone snuck ham into my food without telling me I got sick.) Also want to share details that I think might help anyone planning a vacation.
We booked through Costco and customized a package so that we would be at Le Tahiti by Pearl for three nights and Le Bora Bora by Pearl for 5 nights. This included a meal plan at Le Bora Bora - breakfast buffet and three course meal at dinner. We were on our own for food at Le Tahiti. We went with an extra night in Tahiti with the plan to go on a day excursion to Moorea. Costco handled the hotels and flights, and we scheduled our flight from our city (east coast) to LAX. This meant a 5 hour flight, three hour layover in LAX (moving a suitcase between airlines, walking from baggage claim to international departures, going through security again), and 8 hour flight to Papeete.
The Air Tahiti Nui flight to Papeete included a pillow, blanket, socks, eye mask, beverages, a night meal, and a breakfast meal. Night meal was a ham and cheese sandwich (gave this to my husband) and chocolate mousse (good). Breakfast was choice of french toast or omelet. Omelet was good. I was thankful to be wearing a fleece jacket with a raincoat over top - a little cold on the flight.
We arrived early on a Sunday morning - most places are closed. This was fine as we had no energy. Le Tahiti check in was later in the day, but they let us change our clothes, stored our luggage somewhere safe, and said to check back at 11am. We went to pool, swam, passed out on lounge chairs. Checked in at 11 - luckily our room was ready. We were thankful to have brought an electrical adapter for devices - that was one of the big differences between Le Tahiti and Le Bora Bora - amount of USB ports in the room.
As mentioned, I have a medical problem with too many refined carbs - this can usually be solved by 1. not eating too many of them, and 2. adding things to my food like chia seeds or flax seeds. However, due to restrictions on bringing seeds or nuts into French Polynesia, I had to find another option: I brought high fiber protein bars. This worked really well. In my case, the best variety ended up being peanut butter chocolate chip bars (minimal chocolate to melt in the sunlight) made by "Aloha". Also brought seaweed snacks.
For dinner each of the three days we went to the restaurant at Le Tahiti. Vegetarian options were something called a "Boudha Bowl" (quinoa, root veggies, greens, seaweed, really good), risotto (this was a special and not part of the regular menu), and pizza. I ended up trying all of these on different nights and got a side of sauteed veggies every time.
For breakfast on the second day, we took hotel transportation to Papeete and went to Rainbow Cafe - good variety of vegetarian food. I ended up getting toast with peanut butter, banana, chia seeds(!), berries; and an amazing smoothie. Original plan for Papeete was to grab some snacks from the grocery story, but we were low on energy. We did manage to find a local liquor store and purchased the local pineapple wine and rum (Les Arranges).
We had tried to book excursions ahead of time, but every time we tried, we were told to go through our hotel's activity desk. So, we went to the activity desk and scheduled the day tour to Moorea - the lagoon tour. We were given instructions on when to schedule a cab, told approximately how much it would cost, and that we would need to buy a ticket for the ferry through Terevau. No issues scheduling or taking the cab. The driver talked to us in detail about how there are more jobs in Tahiti vs any other FP island, and how there are two lanes going into the city in the morning, two coming out, and how the divider stones are manually moved. People on mopeds and scooters just zip through the two lanes. Watch out for the "diadem" mountains on the left - pretty. We got in line for Terevau... Unfortunately, neither of us speaks much French. There was apparently a sign saying they were closed unexpectedly due to a technical issue, and that we needed to buy a ticket for Aremiti instead - they told us what time to buy. We followed the instructions - no issues. Our transportation on the Moorea side (Arthur tours) was already there. Moorea is BEAUTIFUL! All the guides, including Siki, were really friendly and helpful. This was the closest I've ever been to rays and lagoon sharks. We stopped by another part of the island, where folks hung out at the beach, Siki did a demonstration of pareos, and there was a cooking demonstration of poisson cru (raw fish that I did not partake in, but my husband loved it). I was glad to have brought a protein bar. There was also chicken for meat eaters. There was salad, rice, and grapefruit also. And rum punch. The guides showed how to crack open a coconut, and had a competition as to who could crack their coconut the fastest. Overall, this excursion was one of the most fun things we did.
Wednesday morning, we headed to the airport with our alcohol carefully wrapped up in our suitcase that was checked. The flight on Air Tahiti to Bora Bora was very quick. I did not need to wear extra layers. We were blown away on the ferry ride to Le Bora Bora - everything was so pretty.
Check in at Le Bora Bora was very smooth - we were able to check in right away. Overwater Bungalow Room was beautiful and immaculate - and the sliding door locked.
Two restaurants: Otemanu and Miki Miki. The menus point out which items are vegetarian, and have an English translation. Even so, I highly recommend having some kind of rudimentary understanding of the French language for foods. I don't speak French, but I understand enough Spanish to know jamon is ham, miel is honey, and a few other words. (I was able to order a salad without ham.) [Edit because I forgot to mention: Yes, there are English translations of menu items, but sometimes, they leave stuff out - like ham. And it helps to be able to read it in the French version.] For dinner, Miki Miki has a lentil dish with rice, a sweet potato and chickpea dish with black rice(!!), and spinach and artichoke pizza. Otemanu has a curry dish, a risotto with mushrooms dish and I think there might have been a pasta option. Definitely get the coconut pastry at Otemanu, and the vanilla ice cream at Miki Miki. The breakfast buffet at Otemanu is AWESOME - salad bar, veggie of the day, chia seed pudding(!!), juices, and the typical bacon, sausage, waffles, pancakes, cereal (and raisins and prunes for cereal), fruit, and pastries. I think I ate maybe one protein bar in my time at Le Bora Bora.
The mini fridge has a pineapple juice, lemon lime soda, two cokes, two beers, chips, and a Bounty (coconut) bar. Items in it get replaced either daily if you've used them, or depending on who the restock person is, they might leave one additional refill of everything outside the fridge. Thankfully the alcohol we purchased in Tahiti didn't break. I think the cheapest drink at the pool bar was $16 - at happy hour.
Guests can use kayaks, standup paddle boards free of charge. There are electronic boards you can rent. There are lots of man made coral nurseries to the left (if your back is to the beach). I brought my own snorkel gear -- lots of fish under our room and in the nurseries. There are buoys around the resort to keep you from going too far. I snorkeled around the perimeter and started to see why - the water did eventually get to the point that I couldn't stand up. Also, shortly outside the perimeter, while snorkeling, I saw a BIG friggin ray, about the width of a car. I told myself, 'you'd better turn around! This isn't one of the cute rays you snorkeled with in Moorea!' In the evenings you can see from 1 to 5 lagoon sharks and maybe a ray or two. In the morning, if you know where to look (the second "pier" with OWBs over from the left) you may see a few sharks in the morning. They won't hurt you - splash the top of the water a little with your hand. People were cleaning plant debris out of the water in the mornings. I used a paddle board briefly before switching to a kayak. The water is so clear - I could see reflections like glass under other kayaks.
The rooms contain two umbrellas and a flashlight in the closet. We used an umbrella. I was thankful to have brought my raincoat.
We booked the ATV tour through the activity desk. I think it was through Bora Bora ATV Jet Ski adventures. The guide, Caleb, was wonderful. This was also one of the most fun things we did all vacation. We went around the perimeter of the main island, but also on off road trails. We stopped briefly at a beach. We went up to some high places and stopped for photos. Caleb had a snack - shredded coconut with banana and pineapple juice - yummy! We saw some very old, very large guns that had been placed on the main island during WW2.
There were some fire dances on the beach on Friday night - really cool.
If anyone has been in a garden bungalow or beach front bungalow and Le Bora Bora, would love to know what you thought of it. We intentionally walked around the property as much as we could - there are fences up if you walk too far to the left (facing away from the beach), and a "private" sign if you walk too far to the right. But there are some very pretty trails behind the hotel, on the way to the garden bungalows - purple water lilies!
Travel back to our time zone was really rough. When you leave Bora Bora, your hotel (others do this too) puts a necklace of shells around your neck and say "see you soon!" We cried. Easiest check in for flight back to Papeete. After getting our checked bag at Papeete, had about an hour wait to check our bag again and then another wait to go through security. Then, an 8 hour flight, followed by a 5 hour flight. I kind of wish we had stayed one more night in Bora Bora and then an additional night in Tahiti due to 3 consecutive flights being kind of harsh.
Overall, I'm really glad we went - probably the prettiest place I've ever been. We're not super rich so this was a really big deal. Really hope to go back some day.
A few call outs:
All the local people - cab drivers, people at both hotels, people in Papeete were very friendly. Usually the worst people I run into are the tourists - BUT! All the tourists were great. Someone I didn't know in Bora Bora who passed me on the way to breakfast pointed out we were half a world away from home and we were both wearing the same orange shorts from Wallmart! Nice to see you! And on a rainy day, a non-English speaker went out of her way to show me a rainbow - thank you!! :)
(Edited for typos.)

If I’m being clear, the man that we’ve known at the end of Chapter 6 towards RDR1, has always been Dutch.
“You can’t fight nature John, you can’t fight change…You can’t fight gravity.”
It’s like Newton’s term of the apple and physics, “What goes up, must come down.” Dutch had always puffed himself out to be something he’s not, but eventually he had to fall, to succumb to the man he always truly was. So, where did this all start? We can look back on the smidgets of Dutch’s life to assume where his “downfall” started.
Dutch lost his father at war and throughout Chapter 3, he makes this clear that he’s slided over that, despite this only being another excuse to go after someone like Colm O’Driscoll or cause some “noise”. Growing up like during the boat ride Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur went on, Dutch talked about how he and his mother had some disagreements and obviously fell off, he said he didn’t know his mother died until an “uncle” had told him. We know that even still Dutch fabricates truth and lies together in a lot of things he says. I believe that Dutch killed his mother before he left because he tells Jack that they should name the dog that comes into camp in Chapter 3 “Cain” because he’s did something bad and never stopped wandering; Dutch left his house and 15 and never stopped wandering. It reminds me like in the movie ”Pearl”, how she loved her mother but their differences drove about what happened; this “uncle” was “Uncle Sam”, his freedom; he doesn’t like to be controlled. (Also I believe he hid the money from Blackwater in her grave, but that’s another story). So, Dutch ran away from home and only used his scheming, his stealing, his charisma to get by. He meets Hosea and they become a pair. Hosea becomes the voice of reason for Dutch and also sees him as a good leader. Dutch is a man who only sees the world in Idealism and dreams: “We save fellers that need saving, kill fellers that need killing, and feed fellers that need feeding” (Red Robinhood traits). He can’t accept the fact that the world is moving on from “folk like them” and onto the new world (Like Angelo Bronte, but that’s a different story). Hosea knows that Dutch is unhinged as he’d told Arthur when they were going hunting for the bear in Clemen’s Point in Chapter 1, and he’s hinted many times throughout the chapters that they all just need to leave at this point; he knows the man Dutch is and how the apple is slowly coming down, back to gravity. As they’d said before, this killing people by random isn’t how they do things. They’d had delusions as Hosea said but now “They don’t have the delusion of being nothing but a bunch of murderers” and in the beginning of Chapter 1, Arthur tells Sadie, “We’re bad men, but we aint them”. And Arthur also told Dutch in Chapter 5, “This aint how we do things”. They haven’t always been like this, but Dutch always had a slip up, fighting who he really was and whom he wanted to be. He likes destruction, fighting, but he also likes to be seen in a good light such as when he helped Sadie and even had someone bury her husband, when he made that speech in the beginning of the game in the storm but the paper of the speech is found in camp in CH. 1; he wanted to be this Red Robin Hood persona, but it could only go too far, especially with Micah in his ear. That Ferry Job, that was the real Dutch, the Dutch he was too ashamed to tell Hosea; the Dutch he wanted to cover. But Hosea knew of the real Dutch but loved him and would be by his side till death. Another instance that Dutch has always been this way is that he made another irrational decision; he killed Colm’s brother first who in return, Colm killed Anabelle. Yes, Anabelle was probably the only woman he’s ever loved, and to be honest, probably because she reminded him of his mother (Men fall in love with women who are like their mother). After that was gone, as Arthur had told Sadie “Whatever happened to Dutch happened a long time ago, like a slow decline”. Leading onto this, you see throughout the chapters, Dutch wanting to be this good guy from his speeches to keeping his chess pieces in check. He’s always wanted to stay in control, chasing behind that and telling Arthur things from the beginning like “Stop doubting me” and the hidden encounter where he says “I know you’re going to betray me”, then when Arthur asks him to follow up with what he meant, he’s like “Nothing, son.” There are a lot of subtle hints of him projecting like he did with Angelo Bronte, Cornwall, the Pinkertons, but he’s only ever speaking of how bad he himself is. Dutch is a prideful man, a controlling man. The trolley incident was a helping factor towards Dutch’s decline, but I feel as though it was steering the audience away from Dutch’s paradox of a character, confusing us. When Hosea died, all of his voice of reason is gone. He truly cared for Hosea who was his best friend and probably his confinement, his counselor. But now that he was gone, Micah took the reins and Dutch didn’t see a point in anything anymore, no point in holding back. He told Arthur that maybe life wasn’t something to cling onto so tightly; he realized the game was over, death was real and he was meeting his end so he’d go out his way. Things decline from there, Dutch makes a whole lot of “noise”, he doesn’t even care about love anymore, but loyalty, as long as it’s to him. He’s more unhinged and dictator-like, it’s only his way without any reason; all the love he lost died with Hosea, Anabelle, the people he’s lost and trying to keep a gang together wasn’t worth it anymore. Sure, there was never a Tahiti, but he just wanted a family, people who had HIS back and followed him while he lived his crazy ride, but there was love somewhere in that sick and twisted mind; that was all gone and not even Arthur could save him. In the end, he let everything die and walked that mountain with grief and regret with his failures he pridefully refused to admit. Even in the epilogue however, he was there to stop Micah, feeling betrayed and as he told John “Same as you, I suppose”, when asked why he was there. He walks away with grief, anger, betrayal, pride and is not seen until RDR1, where he is who he tried to fabricate; the r*pist, murderous, rumored cannibal psychopath with no facade or beauty to uphold anymore and that is shown in his fashion. People are disposable to him and he finally showed himself worse than Colm. In the end, he wants to go out his way; there’s no room for dreams anymore; he was robbed of those by reality. He kills that woman like he’d done in Blackwater, even tries to kill John. And he tells John in the end that famous quote,
“We can’t fight nature John, we can’t fight change, can’t fight gravity. My whole life all I ever did was fight…But I can’t give up neither. I can’t fight my own nature. That’s the paradox John, you see?” As in paradox, the synonym is contradiction, inconsistency, enigma. In definition, “a seemingly absurd or self-contradictory statement or proposition that when investigated or explained may prove to be well founded or true.”
Dutch wanted better, but he couldn’t fight who he was. Nothing mattered, he said it himself.
“Our time has passed, John”. This was never about Dutch, this was about the end of the Wild West, people like him and John were already dead, so they might as well die their own way. “They’ll just find another monster”, is the future, the people like Angelo Bronte or criminals nowadays.
So he died his way, just like the apple having to come down eventually.
https://preview.redd.it/uoxicbxf3isc1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4d780903406eb2414370a1fbf59b5083b15cfb2c

Title: Arthur’s Outlandish Outback Adventure
Scene: Beaver Hollow campsite. Dutch is holding a critical meeting about a high-stakes train robbery. The gang is gathered around, their expressions serious.
Characters:

• Arthur Morgan: A rugged outlaw, now speaking with an exaggerated Australian accent.
• Dutch van der Linde: The gang leader, focused and intense.
• Micah Bell: The antagonist, quick to mock and provoke.
• Bill Williamson: A loyal but easily confused gang member.
• Javier Escuella: The level-headed voice of reason.
• Charles Smith: A stoic and skilled hunter of the gang.

(Dutch is standing in front of a map, pointing at various locations with a grave expression.)
Dutch: (intensely) This is it, gentlemen. Our last chance for redemption. We must be as silent as the snowfall on Mount Hagen.
Arthur: (interrupting with a thick Aussie accent) Right, Dutch. We’ll be as stealthy as a dingo snatchin’ a baby, I reckon.
(The gang looks at Arthur, utterly baffled.)
Dutch: (frowning) Arthur, what’s gotten into you?
Arthur: (grinning) Just tryin’ somethin’ new, Dutch. Thought I’d give this Aussie lingo a fair shake.
Micah: (taunting) You sound like a bloody galah, Morgan. What’s next, you gonna lead us to a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow?
Bill: (scratching his head) I don’t get a word he’s sayin’. You sure you’re not sick, Arthur?
Javier: (calmly) Perhaps Arthur has been hit on the head one too many times, amigos.
Dutch: (trying to regain control) We need focus, Arthur. Remember the trolley station job? We can’t have any distractions.
Arthur: (apologetically) Yeah, Dutch. Sorry 'bout that. (pauses, then in accent) But I reckon it’d be bonzer to see Micah chase after a wallaby.
(Micah scowls, while Bill and Javier exchange puzzled looks. Charles shakes his head in disbelief. Dutch takes a deep breath, attempting to steer the conversation back to the robbery plan.)
Dutch: (resuming) We’ll need to be up before the crack of dawn, hitting them when they least expect it…
Arthur: (interrupting again) Crack of dawn? Blimey, that’s when the kookaburras start their cackling. Might cover our tracks if things go pear-shaped.
Micah: (sneering) Shut it, Morgan. You’re not in the bush.
Bill: (muttering) Kooka-what? I thought we were robbin’ a train, not bird watchin’.
Javier: (smiling) It’s a bird, Bill. A very loud bird.
Charles: (seriously) Arthur, we need you here, not lost in some fantasy land.
Dutch: (seriously) Arthur, we’re talking about our future here. Our chance to get to Tahiti.
Arthur: (seriously) I’m with ya, Dutch. (pauses, then in accent) And I’ll bring my boomerang, just in case we need to make a quick getaway to that tropical paradise.
(The gang remains silent, unsure of how to react. Dutch shakes his head, trying to hide a smile.)
Dutch: (amused) If we ever make it to Tahiti, Arthur, you’ll be the first to ride the waves.
Arthur: (beaming) Fair dinkum, Dutch. Now, let’s get back to the plan. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.
(The gang focuses on the map once more, the mood lightened by Arthur’s antics, even if they don’t quite understand or share in the laughter.)
Arthur: (suddenly standing up) And after we’re done, we’ll all be hoppin’ around like kangaroos with our pockets full of gold!
(The gang stares at Arthur, their patience wearing thin.)
Micah: (angrily) That’s enough, Morgan!
Bill: (confused) Kangaroos? Gold? What in Sam Hill is he on about?
Javier: (exasperated) I think Arthur has finally lost his mind.
Charles: (standing up) Maybe he needs a good knock to set him straight.
(Charles walks over to Arthur and gives him a gentle tap on the head, causing Arthur to slump over, feigning unconsciousness.)
Dutch: (shaking his head) Let’s hope he wakes up with his senses returned. We can’t afford to have him dreaming of the Outback when we’re this close to our goal.
(The gang disperses, leaving Arthur ‘unconscious’ on the ground, a smirk on his face as he peeks through one half-open eye.)
(End of sketch.)

Question, What Film Roles do you wish Marlon Brando accepted? I did a post on this in about year ago and I decided to refined it and give reasons as to why Brando turned it down or was considered.
1950: Sunset Boulevard (Role: Joe Gillis) (Actor Who Got It: William Holden) (Reason: He was deemed to much of a Unknown)
1952: High Noon (Role: Will Kane) (Actor Who Got It: Gary Cooper) (Reason: Brando was offered the part, but he turned it down)
1954: The Egyptian (Role: Sinhue) (Actor Who Got It: Edmund Pordom) (Reason: In February 1954, a week before filming was to start, Brando took part in a reading of the script. Dunne says Brando read the part "absolutely beautifully" but then Curtiz said "How can I with all my genius make you play this man who is one minute hero the next moment villain?" Dunne says he went home to write a memo for Curtiz then got a call saying Brando had quit the film. Brando said he was unable to play his part due to mental strain and had his psychiatrist support him. As location filming in Egypt had already started, Fox sued Brando for $2 million)
1954: Le Rogue et le noir (Role: Julian Sorel) (Actor Who Got It: Gerard Philipe) (Reason: Brando accepted the part, but he walked off production of the film after clashing with French director Claude Autant-Lara)
1954: A Star Is Born (Role: Norman Lester) (Actor Who Got It: James Mason) (Reason: George Cukor offered Marlon Brando the role of Norman Maine on the set of Julius Caesar (1953). "Why would you come to me?" asked Brando. "I'm in the prime of my life... If you're looking around for some actor to play an alcoholic has-been, he's sitting right over there"- pointing at his costar James Mason, who got the part.)
1955: East Of Eden (Role: Cal Trask) (Actor Who Got It: James Dean) (Reason: Kazan considered casting Brando as Cal, before deciding he was too old for the role at 30)
1956: Baby Doll (Role: Archie Lee Meighan) (Actor Who Got It: Karl Malden) (Reason: Brando was considered for the role)
1956: The Conqueror (Role: Genghis Khan) (Actor Who Got It: John Wayne) (Reason: The Role of Genghis Kahn was originally written for Brando, but Brando was the backed ou of the role due to a contract from another studio)
1957: A Face In The Crowd (Role: Larry Rhodes) (Actor Who Got It: Andy Griffith) (Reason: Brando was offered the role, but he turned it down)
1958: The Defiant Ones (Role: John Jackson) (Actor Who Got It: Tony Curtis) (Reason: Stabley Kramer envisioned Brando in the role and while Brando was interested, he was unavailable for the role)
1959: Ben-Hur (Role: Judah Ben-Hur) (Actor Who Got It: Charlton Heston) (Reason: Brando was offered the role, but he turned it down)
1961: Judgment At Nuremberg (Role: Hans Rolfe) (Actor Who Got It: Maximilian Schell) (Reason: In a rare effort to actually obtain a part, he showed interest in the role, even approaching Kramer about it. But Kramer preferred Schell).
1962: Lawrence Of Arabia (Role: T.E Lawrence) (Actor Who Got It: Peter O’Toole) (Reason: Brando preferred to appear in Mutiny On The Bounty instead due to its pleasanter filming location, Tahiti and munificenter pay."I'll be damned if I'll spend two years of my life on some fucking camel," he said).
1963: Cleopatra (Role: Marc Antony) (Actor Who Got It: Richard Burton) (Reason: Turned it down to do Mutiny On The Bounty).
1965: Doctor Zhivago (Role: Victor Ipolitovich Komarovsky) (Actor Who Got It: Rod Steiger) (Reason: Brando rejected the role)
1967: The Graduate (Role: Mr. Robinson) (Actor Who Got It: Murray Hamilton) (Reason: Brando was considered for the part)
1968: Planet Of The Apes (Role: George Taylor) (Actor Who Got It: Charlton Heston) (Reason: Brando turned down the role)
1969: Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid (Role: Either Butch Cassidy or Sundance Kid) (Actor Who Got It: Paul Newman and Robert Redford) (Reason: He felt it was too similar to One-Eyed Jacks and made Burn! instead).
1969: The Arrangement (Role: Eddie Anderson) (Actor Who Got It: Kirk Douglas) (Reason: He was Kazan's original choice, but he pulled out, citing that he couldn't make such a lightweight film following the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.)
1970: Little Big Man (Role: Old Lodge Skins) (Actor Who Got It: Chief Dan George) (Reason: The role was originally offered to Brando, but he turned it down)
1970: Ryan’s Daughter (Role: Randolph Doryan) (Actor Who Got It: Christopher Jones) (Reason: He was Lean's original choice for the role, but he had to drop out when filming of Burn! overran in South Africa.)
1971: Dirty Harry (Role: Harry Callahan) (Actor Who Got It: Clint Eastwood) (Reason: Brando was considered for the role, but was never approached for it)
1972: Deliverance (Role: Lewis Medlock) (Actor Who Got It: Burt Reynolds) (Reason: Boorman wanted to cast Brando as Lewis Medlock and was considering to do the movie with Jack Nicholson as long they were both payed more than 1 Millon, forcing Boorman to find cheaper actors)
1972: Child’s Play (Role: Joseph Dobbs) (Actor Who Got It: Robert Preston) (Reason: Brando backed out just before principal photography was to begin when he realized James Mason had the better part. Brando subsequently was sued by producer David Merrick for breach of contract.)
1972: Fat City (Role: Billy Tully) (Actor Who Got It: Stacy Keach) (Reason: Huston initially wanted Brando to star. When Brando informed Huston repeatedly that he needed some more time to think about it, Huston finally came to the conclusion that the star wasn't really interested and looked out for another actor until he finally cast the then relatively unknown Stacy Keach.)
1973: The Exorcist (Role: Lankester Merrin) (Actor who got it: Max von Sydow) (Reason: Warner Bros wanted Brando for the role, but Friedkin refused, arguing that once Brando was cast, it would be a Marlon Brando picture)
1974: The Great Gatsby (Role: Jay Gatsby) (Actor Who Got It: Robert Redford) (Reason: Paramount studio brass wanted him to appear as the titular character, but he wanted $4 million, an unheard-of salary at the time.)
1974: The Godfather: Part II (Role: Vito Corleone) (Reason: Brando was scheduled to make a cameo appearance in the film, in the flashback at the end of the film in which Vito Corleone comes back to his home and is greeted with a surprise birthday party. In fact, he was expected the day of shooting but did not show up due to a salary dispute.)
1975: One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest (Role: Randle Patrick McMurphy) (Actor Who Got It: Jack Nicholson)
1976: A Star Is Born (Role: John Norman Howard) (Actor Who Got It: Kris Kristofferson) (Reason: Brando was considered for the part)
1977: Equus (Role: Martin Dysart) (Actor Who Got It: Richard Burton) (Reason: The Producers originally wanted Marlon Brando to play the role)
1980: Superman II (Role: Jor-El) (Reason: Marlon Brando finished all his scenes for both two Superman films early into production, successfully sued the Salkinds, producers of the film, for $50 million over grossed profits gained from the first film. In response, the Salkinds cut Brando from the film, replacing his scenes with actress Susannah York. His scenes were restored in the 2006 re-cut of the film, titled Superman II: The Richard Donner Cut.)
1984: Nineteen Eighty-Four (Role: O’Brien) (Actor Who Got It: Richard Burton) (Reason: Brando was considered for the role, but Brando wanted too much money)
1986: Salvador (Role: Richard Boyle) (Actor Who Got It: James Woods) (Reason: Director Oliver Stone's first choice for the role of Richard Boyle was Marlon Brando, But Brando had become notoriously reclusive by the time this project got underway.)
1987: The Untouchables (Role: Al Capone) (Actor Who Got It: Robert De Niro) (Reason: Brando was considered for the role in case if Robert De Niro was unabled to do the role)
1987: Angel Heart (Role: Louis Cyphere) (Actor Who Got It: Robert De Niro) (Reason: Alan PArker offered the role to Marlon Brando, but Brando declined)
1987: The Last Emperor (Role: Reginald Johnson) (Actor Who Got It: Peter O’Toole) (Brando was considered for the role)
1988: Tucker: The Man And His Dream (Role: Preston Tucker) (Actor Who Got It: Jeff Bridges) (Reason: The director wanted Brando to appear as Preston Tucker in his biopic of the maverick automotive executive that Coppola planned to make after completing The Godfather Part II**. Brando was not interested.)**
1988: The Adventures Of Baron Munchausen (Role: Vulcan) (Actor Who Got It: Oliver Reed) (Reason: Gilliam offered the role to Brando, but Brando declined the role)
1990: Dances With Wolves (Role: Major Fambrough) (Actor Who Got It: Maury Caykin) (Reason: Costner originally wanted to cast Brando as Major Fambrough but Brando's reputation as a diva dissuade Costner from the idea to cast him)
1990: The Field (Role: Bull McCabe) (Actor Who Got It: Richard Harris) (Reason: After Ray McAnally sudden death, Jim Sheridan considered Marlon Brando or Sean Connery for the role until Richard Harris, who was cast as the priest convinced Sheridan to cast him in the role)
1991: Nostromo (Role: UNKNOWN) INCOMPLETE (Reason: Brando was scheduled to appear with co-star Paul Schofield, Peter O’Toole, Isabella Rossellini, Christopher Lambert, and Dennis Quaid However, when director David Lean died, the production came to a halt.)
1991: JFK (Role: X) (Actor who got it: Donald Sutherland) (Reason: In a interview, Oliver Stone stated he offered the role to Marlon Brando, but Brando turned down the role. "I had been dumb enough to go to Marlon Brando. We all love him, of course. But if he’d said yes I would have been f—–. That scene would have gone on for twice the length.”- Stone)
1992: Batman: Returns (Role: The Penguin) (Actor who got it: Danny (DeVito) (Reason: Tim Burton wanted to cast Brando as The Penguin but Warner Bros rejected the idea)
1995: Divine Rapture (Role: A Priest) INCOMPLETE (Reason: The project included stars like Johnny Depp, Debra Winger, and John Hurt. Production was never completed due to a lack of financing.)
1998: The Big Lebowski (Role: Jeffrey “The Big” Lebowski) (Actor Who Got It: David Huddleston) (Reason: The Coen Brothers wanted Brando to play the role and even had him in mind while writing the script but Brando couldn't star in the movie due to ill health)
1998: American History X (Role: Cameron Alexander) (Actor Who Got It: Stacy Keach) (Reason: Brando was originally considered and envisioned for the role of Cameron Alexander)
1999: Sleepy Hollow (Role: The Headless Horseman) (Actor Who Got It: Christopher Walken) (Reason: Brando was the 1st choice for The Headless Horseman but he turned it down)
1999: Magnolia (Role: Earl Patridge) (Actor Who Got It: Jason Robards) (Reason: Brando was considered for the role after Paul Thomas Anderson for a time couldn't get Jason Robards and George C. Scott turned it down, but Thomas Anderson finally got Jason Robards for the role)
2001: Scary Movie II (Role: Father McFreely) (Actor Who Got It: James Woods) (Reason: Brando had to withdraw when he was hospitalized with pneumonia in April 2001.)
2004: Man Of Fire (Role: Paul Rayburn) (Actor Who Got It: Christopher Walken) (Reason: Brando was the original choice to play Rayburn, less than a year before he died.)
2006: Big Bug Man (Role: Mrs. Sour) INCOMPLETE (Reason: Brando recorded for the voice of Mrs. Sour a month before his death on July 1, 2004. He thought it would be fun to voice a girl for this project. Since Brando's death, there has been no update on the film's progress).
Marlon Brando, in my opinion, is probably one of the great film actor, and his sorely missed in the film world. The amount of roles he turned down is staggering and I think he would of done a good job in any of them. The 50s he would of been great. The 60s stuff, too, but he was having troubles with his career. The 70s I think he wasn't lazy, he would of gave New Hollywood a run for its money. The 80s, some of those roles would of been nice comeback vehicles for him. The 90s-00s is where I think he started to truly not give a F and just did it for the money.
Also I think, while I think Brando could of been great in the role he was offered, I am glad with the actors we got in those roles.
Overall, What Film Role do you wish Marlon Brando accepted?

"We are outgunned and will be outspent." — Right-wing activist Charlie Kirk, fretting over whether Trump can raise enough cash to beat Biden.
Editor's Note: Crooked is closed on Monday in observance of Cesar Chavez Day. We'll be back in your inbox on Tuesday!

Trump-Age Wasteland

Trump’s bizarre pocketbook problems led a dizzying news cycle this week. But in the noise, there’s a signal: It’s a MAGA financial meltdown.

• Not only has disgraced former President Donald Trump averaged $90,000 a day in legal fees for three years, but his campaign now says it can’t keep pace with President Joe Biden’s fundraising. In February, the Trump campaign only raised $20 million. That’s $5 million short of what Biden just raised in just one star-studded Thursday night in New York City. Trump, of course, has been trying everything he can to earn more dough, including selling golden hightops, hawking NFTs, and repping a God Bless The USA Bible. But he’s got his work cut out for him. That $5 million gap with Biden adds up to 416,736 Bibles, or 62,657 sneakers (math via CNN).
  
• Now, it is true that Trump earned billions on paper when his Truth Social network began trading on the stock market on Monday. But he’ll have a hard time accessing those funds anytime soon, for technical and legal reasons. Meanwhile, financial analysts have been quick to point out that the company’s skyrocketing market valuation is untethered to the reality of its dismal, almost nonexistent business prospects. “I’m reasonably confident the stock price will eventually drop to $2 a share and could even go below that,” one finance professor told CNN this week—a forecast that would mean a 97 percent collapse from Friday’s closing price.
  
• Trump’s not the only MAGA high roller with money problems. Lawyers for Rudy Giuliani, the longtime Trump lawyer, asked a bankruptcy court not to force the ex-New York City mayor to sell his Florida condo, lest he—and this is a real quote—“join the ranks of the homeless.” In a motion filed in the US bankruptcy court of Southern New York on Thursday, Giuliani’s lawyers argue that since he has already agreed to sell his Manhattan co-op to help raise funds to pay down debts, including the expedited $148 million dollars payment to two Georgia election workers, Giuliani needs someplace affordable to live. Specifically, someplace with a podcast studio. Giuliani, meanwhile, was reportedly overheard in Mar-a-Largo saying he feels trapped in a “nightmare world.”
  
• The far-right pillow guy is in trouble, too! Not that he’d admit it. “We’re fine,” said My Pillow CEO Mike Lindell after a court Wednesday ordered My Pillow’s eviction from a suburban Minneapolis warehouse. Lindell’s company is at least $217,489.74 behind on rent. This is just the latest financial shitstorm to hit Lindell, a man who has already spent $40 million of his own dollars in a quixotic attempt to overturn the 2020 election. In January, Fox News stopped running My Pillow commercials, in February, a Federal judge said Lindell couldn’t squelch on a $5 million dollar promise, and now the $1.3 billion defamation lawsuit brought against him by Dominion voting has reportedly entered the discovery phase.
  

Lucky for Trump advisors and the Trump faithful, the Grifter-in-Chief is promising to hold the biggest fundraiser ever next week, April 6th, in Mar-a-Lago.

Look No Further Than Crooked Media

Which job do you think involves more improv about immigration policy, starring in Veep or working at the real White House? On a new episode of Inside 2024, actor and former White House staffer Kal Penn joins Dan Pfeiffer and Alyssa Mastromonaco to talk about their time in the White House together and how accurate shows like The West Wing and Veep really are. To get access to this Friends of the Pod subscription series and others, head to https://crooked.com/friends now.

Under The Radar

Another key inflation figure dipped slightly last month, the government said Friday. Good news!... right? Tell that to the 63 percent of Americans who say high prices are still a serious hardship. Ah… the Biden vibecession!
What's with the gap between what economists have been saying about inflation lately, and what everyone else feels? For one thing, inflation may be down, but it’s not dead. Gas prices jumped 3.8 percent in February, while airfare rose 3.6 percent. The cost of clothing and housing also ticked upwards. And companies—Cheers, guys, appreciate you!—are still passing inflated prices on to consumers. Those with the lowest incomes are often hit hardest. Former Presidents Obama and Clinton acknowledged this at Biden’s fundraiser in New York. Obama said: “If you're working hard, and your paycheck is getting stretched beyond the breaking point, and you're worried about rent, and you're concerned about the price of gas, it's understandable.”
Furthermore, people are still feeling the pain from the truly gargantuan increases of the recent past. The combined inflation rate for three key essentials—gas, rent, and food at home—reached a staggering 18% in 2022, according to Axios. It’s a lot to expect people to just get over a shock like that anytime soon—even if recent numbers are finally looking less dire.

What Else?

It’s been a year since Evan Gershkovich was imprisoned in Russia. His sentence was extended until June. Let our Evan go—and the six Russian journalists arrested this week, too.
A crane that can lift up to 1000 tons has been deployed to the Port of Baltimore to help with the clean-up from the bridge collapse. Pieces of the bridge weigh as much as 4000 tons.
Gambia could reverse its ban on female genital mutilation because erasing women’s right to bodily autonomy and safety while limiting access to physical joy has always been a global pastime.
House GOP leaders will send articles of impeachment for Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas to the Senate in a high-stakes game of tag.
Social media use is trending down, down, down, and Twitter’s lost the most users. Yes, I dead named X with my full chest.
A Telegram user advertising on X says they’ll make an AI-generated pornographic image of a real person for $10. Sigh. Nonconsensual AI-porn: Not just for celebrities anymore.
Indigenous peoples of New Zealand, Tahiti, and the Cook Islands signed a treaty conferring personhood to whales, even though, arguably, whales are better.

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Light At The End Of The Email

Beyonce’s country album has been living in the world for most of a day. Listen as one Queen pays homage to another. (Fun reminder: the banjo is Black.)
Love is Blind Season 6’s Chelsea Blackwell launches merch: We’ve all been a Megan Faux at some point in our lives. Reclaim the shame!
Fluffle, the word for a group of bunnies, has been Wiki-wished into existence.
International Day of Trans Visibility is Sunday, March 31. A moment to say: We see you. We love you. You bring us joy!

Enjoy

Mary Gillis on Bluesky Social: "MYSTERIOUS STRANGER: * hands woman box * If you press this button, someone you don't know dies. WOMAN: Ok * presses button *. STRANGER: Whoa, I didn't even tell you about the money. WOMAN: I can't afford to pay much. STRANGER: No, you don't pay. WOMAN: Oh good * presses button again *. STRANGER: Jesus Christ"

Sara’s phone rang during her lunch with her husband Cal. She picked it up and the voice on the other side took her aback for a few seconds. Mom, how are you? Um, great dear, um what do I owe to the unexpected call? Well mom, I’ll be in town this weekend and was just looking to see if we could have lunch together. Of course, Mary is there a problem? No mom. I just have a favor I wanted to ask you for but I really need to do this in person. No problem, I can set us up for lunch at the country club, just give me a time. Mom is Sid’s diner still there. I think so Mary, why? Mom, can we meet there instead? Okay will Saturday at 1 work? Yes mom, I’ll meet you there and thank you mom. The call ended as quickly as it started. Cal looked up from his newspaper and said what’s going on? Sara responded, that was Mary and she wants to meet up for lunch. Hasn’t it been 5 years since you two spoke last? Sara said “at least” but she said she has a favor she wants to ask me. Cal responded, she probably needs money, knowing your ex-husband. If so, do what you need to do to repair your relationship with your daughter. Wow, this is so out of the blue, oh wait a minute, her 21st birthday is coming up, maybe it has something to do with that. Well, I’ll just have to see what she needs, but I’ll try to get her back into my life. After that I’ll ask her to at least try and get along with you. I can’t believe that she wants to eat at Sid’s. Well, if that’s where she wants to eat, just do it. It’s only a lunch, you’ll survive, Cal responded.
Saturday at Sid’s diner 10 minutes early Sara pulls up to a parking spot next to a range rover with a beautiful turquoise blue paint job. Sara thought to herself while admiring the car, I should talk to Cal and get one of those for myself. As she raised herself out of the driver’s door of her stylish Lexus. Walking toward the entrance the very moment she got to the front of her car, the door to the range rover opened up and Mary stepped out onto the black asphalt parking lot. Sara was stunned to she her daughter driving such a nice car and responded in kind. Wow Mary that’s a very nice car. Mary responded, yeah dad gave it to me for my birthday, I just got it a couple days ago. Thats why I drove here to test out my new car. They both just moved closer to the door to Sid’s as Sara looked at Mary’s car again admiring the paint thinking it looks like the ocean colors in Tahiti. They entered and found a booth and waited for water and menus. The silence between them was deafening. After the food and drinks orders were placed Mary spoke first. Well mom I hope you still remember my 21st birthday is coming up. Sara stammered out damn it Mary, I know when your birthday is and I’ll never forget it. Mary responded well to be honest mom you didn’t see or call me on my 18th or any of the last 7 birthday’s matter of fact, so I just wasn’t sure. Sara replied Mary, I remembered, but you never spoke to me kindly after I left your father and I felt like you hated me. Just then the food arrived and they both fell back into silence as they nibbled at their food.
Well mom, I’ll wanted to just say thank you for not cheating on dad with Cal. At least you thought enough of dad to divorce him before you started dating Cal. Sara spoke with indifference in her voice, it was a different time and I needed more than your father could provide for me. Mom the only thing you were missing was a millionaire for a husband. Mary that’s not true. Okay mom, but we had a good life and never worried about money, dad always provided you with everything except the social status you really craved. Dad treated you like a queen but you just couldn’t see it. Well enough of that, it won’t change anything, let’s get to why I’m here mom. Sara snaped back wait Mary is that how you see me now? That I was nothing but a gold digger? Mom what did you get from Cal that dad wasn’t providing you? Mary didn’t wait quickly saying, access to the country club, first class air line tickets and fine dining every night. Okay Mary, your right that was then and this is now. We’re not going to fix our relationship in one day, but at least were talking again. So, what’s the favor that I’m here for? Mom, I’m having a 21st birthday party in two weeks and I want you and Cal to attend. Sara’s eyes lit up for even a chance to rebuild her relationship with her daughter and immediately said yes we’ll be there.
Mom is it true you never went to the farm. No, your father tried many times but I just could never see myself staying anywhere that pigs, cows and horse’s shit. So, mom you’ve never even seen the farm? No, I only seen your grandparents when they came to visit. Even that was disturbing. They always showed up in that damn beat up pick-up truck and left it in front of our home. The smell that they carried with them took me a week to get it out of the guest bedroom. So, mom you didn’t like them, did you? No Mary they were fine people, but just simple people and really didn’t live the way I wanted to live. Sara said why all the questions? Mary sat up and said Well that’s where the party will be held. Sara looked at Mary and asked with a tense voice at the farm? Yes, mom at the farm. Okay just for you my love, we’ll go. Mary said I was hoping you would agree so I made some arrangements and handed her mother a piece of paper. I have set up a helicopter to bring you to the ranch the morning of the party. The two of you just need to be at that location for your flight. It will be a late night, so we have a spare room for you and you can fly back the next day. Or of course you can always get a hotel but most may be filled by now. You know with all my friends from school and of course some of dad’s friends and work buddies. No problem, Mary we will be there with bells on for you my beautiful baby girl. Thanks mom. I need to start my long drive back. If you have any questions or need anything mom, just call me. As Mary headed towards her range rover, she turned to her mother, oh by the way it a casual event. Blue jeans type not suits and gowns. I don’t want you to feel out of place there. Sara responded that’s sounds like fun we’ll be there for you honey.
Two weeks later Sara and Cal were waiting at the helipad for the copter to arrive. They seen it coming from the west and landed 100 yards from the departure terminal. Sara and Cal looked at the logo on the side of the copter and its logo was the Branson farms. Sara looked at Cal and said isn’t that one of the largest meat producers and packers in the states, Cal replied yes, it is, your husband has some very impressive friends. Just then Mary jumped out and motioned them to come over as the baggage handlers grabbed their luggage and placed them all into the copter. They all boarded the copter and placed headsets over their ears. Mary spoke first with greetings for both of them and thanked her mom for coming as the copter lifted off the ground. Mary said wow mom this should be such a treat for you seeing the farm for the very first time. Sara responded with a little distain in her voice yes it will. Sara continued so when will we get to the farm Mary. Oh mom we been flying over the property for the last 20 minutes see all the cows and farms out there. Sara looked out the window saying yes, well mom that’s part of the farm. Mary continued the facts of the farm is that it was 75000 acres of farm land, 16 lakes, and several ponds throughout the property. Sara said with her eyes wide open staring out the window who owns all of this. Mom you really didn’t know did you? Dad owns it all.
Sara looked over to Cal that was in complete shock. Cal said Mary how can this be your father’s name is Calton not Branson. Oh, dad uses his mother’s maiden name to stay out of the spotlight. He doesn’t like to flaunt his wealth. Mom, you had no idea I’m guessing. Before she could respond, Mary said oh were almost there. In the distance the stood a 30 thousand square foot mansion. Sara said that’s not a farm, Mary replied no they start about a half mile down the road to keep the smell from the main house. As the helicopter came in from the north it circled the mansion for a scenic view of the property including the airstrip, two small Lear jets, swimming pool, tennis courts, small horse track and a large parking area that could handle at least 200 cars. Sara was speechless, Cal just looked down at the homestead and said what the hell. You didn’t know your ex was a very rich man, Sara just shook her head and in slow motion with her lips mouthed no to Cal. They landed and exited the copter and took a golfcart to the house. Mary said don’t worry about your luggage we can have it taken to your hotel or the offer remains you can stay here tonight if you would like to? They both said that would be fine they would love to stay at the farm. There was already about 200 people there for the party as they walked through the front entrance. Mary was greeted by a staff member and she said please put them in the west wing, gold room, their luggage will be here soon. Mom, Cal I have some people to greet please look around and make yourselves comfortable. Mary rushed off, Sara looked at Cal and the look in his eyes were nothing but shock. He finally looked at Sara you really didn’t know any of this? She replied no, he went to college on a scholarship and showed no signs he had any money led alone was filthy rich. There was no sign of Ben, her ex-husband so they just walked through studying everything in silence. Finally making there way out to the back gardens where the majority of attendees was congregating. They found the buffet and decided to eat, well that was a truly extraordinary event. You walk with a server pointing to what you would like on your plate and then were escorted to a table the plate was presented to you. This was put together by a chef and decorated and arranged better than most 5 star restaurants. After their meals they went to find their room, Sara said this is not anything like I expected. The room was almost all gold, and so big it must have been almost a thousand square foot. They needed to rest a bit and let their minds grasp what they had learned over the past 2 hours.
As Sara laid on the bed Cal pulled out his laptop and did some research on Dan Sara’s ex-husband. After about 10 minutes Sara was brought back to reality with a large gasp from Cal, Sara responded with what now. Cal said I looked up your ex-husband and hell he’s worth at a rough estimation over 7 billion dollars. Thats 7 billion with a b. Sara screamed so loud a staff member knocked on the door to check on them. They both said everything is great no issues here. They gathered themselves up and headed back down to the festivities. There was a band playing in the background near a dance floor. There were slide of hand magicians, jugglers, ballroom dancers, ice sculptures being carved as people watched. No expense was spared for his daughter. Just then they seen Ben, he was surrounded by at least 10 people mostly women buying for his attention. He saw Sara through a small gap and excused himself and headed towards them. He gave Cal a firm handshake and hugged Sara, He immediately asked it they were enjoying the party and they both exclaimed yes. After a few minutes of small talk, Dan requested a small conversation with Cal before the night concluded. Cal agreed and they both set off towards Dan’s office.
As the two men sat down at Dan’s desk, Cal spoke first so you have really upgraded your life I see. Dan responded by saying not really, I have always been rich, but unlike some people giving Cal a look of distain I didn’t flaunt it. I hid it and Sara was great and loving until she was influenced by your use of your bank accounts on her. But Dan continued but that’s not why were here. Cal, I understand your company is having a cash flow issue. I think I have a solution. Cal looked coldly back at Dan and spoke with anger in his voice you don’t know shit. Dan sat back as Cal gave him a piece of his mind claiming the company was in great shape and he didn’t need Dans help. After he exhausted all of his thought Dan gave a sigh, well Cal I know much more than you think. Taking a folder from his desk drawer and handing it to Cal. You may not realize this but I have managed to buy 42 percent of the stock for your company. I’m on the board well at least my trust is. I want to buy the remaining 9 percent and take the majority control of it or I could just take it over by a hostel take over. I’m willing to pay you 20 percent more for your stocks than there worth to make this happen sooner. Or I could just wait a year or two and take it all away from you. Dan, Cal responded why would you do this to me? Well part of it of course revenge, but Mary is graduating from college soon and I think it would be a perfect gift to her. Are you kidding me your going to steal my company and give it to a 21 year old just to spite me. No no no, you’ve got it all wrong. My team has found several ways to generate much more cash from your company, having her running the place I would have some influence as to it success. Eventually I’ll hand full rains over to her but not right away. Cal you need to understand you get paid an obscene amount for your shares and just get to spend all your time with Sara. I’ll take over all the debt, day to day operations, responsibility and you get to travel the world and spend time with Sara. Either way I’ll get your company, but this way you still make out like a bandit. Tell you what, Dan continued; I understand this was a lot to take in now. Go enjoy the celebration and we can talk more next week. Cal got up with a shrug and stormed out of Dan’s office. Sara found Cal at the bar on his second double shot of whisky steaming mad. What’s wrong Cal, your damn ex just told me he wants me to sell him my company or he’s going to steal it from me. Sara said why would he do that? He claims he found ways to make it much more profitable and he wants to put Mary in charge. Sara said what, Yeah Sara, he wants to give my company to your daughter as a birthday gift. What did you tell him? He offered me a lot of money to move on and of course I will never have to work again but. But what Cal, I just hate the idea that he won. He didn’t win Cal you get even more rich, you won’t have to worry about office issues anymore and you have me right. Your right Sara, I’ll always have you and a full bank account. I’ll see what it looks like next week, we’ll just have to wait and see. Long missing Mary finally reappeared with looks of nothing but joy on her face. Come on guys you’ll want to see this. Dad’s making an announcement. Dan was standing on the stage holding Kathy Sloan’s hand, dropping to one knee, saying boldly Kathy Anne Sloan will you be the one person that will spend the rest your life with me. His hand slowly pulled out a 7-carat ring from his pocket and presented it to her. She reaches out with tears streaming down her face. Kathy was unable to speak, she took him by the neck pulled him towards her and gave the biggest most passionate kiss I have ever seen in public. Dan looked back at her still holding the ring. He spoke with an inquisitive look on his face and asked, does that mean yes? Her head uncontrollably shook from the sky to her toes, yelling at the top off her lungs yes Dan, I love you so much. Dan was trying to hold his tears back from the joy and relief that she said yes. The party goers erupted with hoots and hollers, whistles, and way to goes along with hundreds of congratulations coming from the crowd.
Mary sat there with tears in her eyes as her mother spoke. How long have they been together? Mary’s replied shocked her, Dan and Kathy have been dating since you married Cal, so about 6 years. Do you think she’s after his money. Mom, you couldn’t be any more wrong, Kathy’s great grandfather started a small company in Texas many years ago. You may know it, Exxon Mobil corp. She doesn’t need his money or status. Just his love, and now I think she’s got it. Sara and Cal flew home the next day. A week later papers were drawn and Dan bought out Cal’s shares and his life and the company will all have new beginning’s.

I’m wondering what the current situation is when it comes to Covid-19 vaccines. Is it currently required to have them to live or visit there?
Did most people get vaccinated during lockdowns in Tahiti, Bora Bora and other French Polynesian islands?
What was the government saying to people during that time? Did people lose their jobs if they didn’t get vaccinated?
What is the consensus on this moving forward in terms of the community sentiment as well as the governmental stance on this subject ?

I appreciate those who can live as a hikikomori till their 30-50, but my ego is just too high for that, i cry everyday because of my situation. I can't stand turning 23 after wasting my teenage years, not doing college or working and isolating myself of all my friends. I always think of what my life would be like if some events didn't happen.
I decided to die before turning 30, and the clock is ticking.
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I could ignore all the comparisons and "overthinks" i make in my mind, buy a land and build a tiny house in a cheap cost-of-life safe place with nature surrunding me ^{"just one more score and then we going to Tahiti}", but that's too utopic, i can't even gather enough money to buy a gun to kill myself, i'm full of bank depts.
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I tried to work with video editing (2 hours per day lol, could't even endure that), but my anxiety fucked up everything and i couldn't last 4 months. Working in a social job 8 hour per day would just make me kill myself faster, or i would just quit in a few weeks. I'm just too weak, i'm not made for society, and i know that since is was a kid. I did not have a father to educate me about life, just school to teach me useless shit.
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So, what's the alternative to not working?
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-Being homeless (not doing that)
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-Stay at my parents house till they die or smt like that (again, that's not a option in the long-term)
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-or just kill myself (Quick, painless and would prevent me from turning into a 50 year old failure.)
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I guess i'm choosing the last
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Everybody dies. I'm just choosing when
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My only happy moments is when i drink high amounts of alcohol or take 24mg Rivotril pills to sleep all day when i have a breakdown. I know that's a high amount, i started with 0.5mg, but i don't even care at this point. I live in a violent country, and if i guy try to rob my phone in the street i would just ignore. Is that a name for this or something? Like passive slow suicide? Idk
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Anyway, idk what kind of response i expected from this post. Have a nice day. I don't have nobody to talk to so thanks if you read it till the end. I just wanted to vent.

I(23m) just met up with my best friend "Ben"(23m) today. My whole friend group sorta lost touch after highschool. I was messaging with Ben earlier in the week and he invited me over to his place today so we could catch up since it's been 5 years since we saw eachother. I had some stuff to do with my dad today and we finished early so I ended up being an hour early. It was perfect timing, I got to the door of his apartment complex just as he was coming out with two girls. He introduced me to them, he said they were his friends. The girls left and he asked if I was hungry. We ended up walking to a burger place not to far away. We picked up some food and walked back to his place. We met his neighbor(late 30s m) on our way to his place. Apparently he's really close friends with his neighbor.
When we got to his place, he asked if I drank. I said I did on special occasions, then he asked if I was driving tonight. I said I wasn't and he brought out two glasses and a bottle of whisky. I guess I gave him a weird look because he said "this is a special occasion. We're celebrating us getting back in touch." We talked and ate. We talked about highschool. I asked about the two girls he was with earlier. It took a bit of prodding before he admitted that they have threesomes. He described their relationship as like friends with benefits but with 3 people instead of 2. Apparently they've been friends for 9 months and they've been having threesomes for 6 months. They're both really pretty.
We drank a bit more and talked more about highschool. I was in a rough spot in highschool. I don't wanna get too much into it here but my mom had left my dad and I. It was a rough time for me. Ben said he knew the feeling and I asked what he meant. Apparently his mom and stepdad were abusive. His mom yelled at him, called him names, threw things at him, punched him, dumped garbage on his bed. She was terrible. And he said his stepdad beat him with his belt. He always made jokes about it in highschool. I remember times where he tried talking to me about it and I brushed him off because I thought he was joking.
I started apologizing for not being there and he said "oh, no you don't have to apologize. I'm okay. I moved out shortly before my 19th birthday and [his neighbor] took me to Tahiti. I've gotten therapy both in the form of a therapist and threesomes with those two lovely ladies you met before. I'm doing alright." I still felt like an asshole though. He was struggling and I, his best friend, didn't believe him when he tried venting. He let me vent to him when I was in a tough spot and I couldn't do the same for him.
If I'm being completely honest, I feel jealous. He's in a great place right now. He's living on his own, he has a stable job, he's having threesomes with two hot girls and his neighbor seems to have replaced me as his best friend. I know life gets busy but I still feel so bad. He let me vent to him when his life was so much worse then mine. I don't know, the visit left me with some feelings and I don't know how to process them. I want to feel happy that he's in a good place but I also feel jealous since he's living in his own and he has two friends with benefits, whereas I still live with my dad and I'm struggling to find any platonic girl friends, let alone friends with benefits. I don't know. I don't even know how to end this

Ok, this is the last continuation of the ranking post. I'm almost there. Ok? Here we go.
Band that will be a pain in the ass to rank: La Logique Du Pire. Troides Priamus Hecuba
Bawdy Festival's Tri Nox Samoni Into The Weird Side: (ranked December 30)

1. Boogalion Mafia
2. Shake ta boulimie
3. Get Clowned
4. Cross Road

Album cover: ...S tier.
This is an interesting EP... Very gimmicky. A tier.
Into The Weird Side: (ranked December 30)

1. Clown Soldier
2. Back In Da Wood
3. Freak Side
4. Where Is My Ball!?
5. Fashion Metal
6. Shake ta boulimie
7. Bawdy Mother Fucker
8. Cross Road
9. Battle dans l'cul
10. Get Clowned
11. Boogalion Mafia
12. Hxclown
13. D.O.A.K.
14. Into The Weird Side

Album cover: This is sheer badassery. S tier.
Ok, the fact that this album is all live is very interesting. It was a great experience. High A.
Babylon Pression's Négative Génération: (ranked January 3)

1. La fange m
2. Contre-courant
3. La confession
4. Schizo
5. R.M.I.
6. Personne
7. J'oublie
8. Champion Lova
9. Négative génération
10. Émeute

Album cover: Holy shit! That caught me off guard, the more I look into it. High B.
Ok, this is a lovely album. High A. BTW, is it just me or French nu metal bands are more prone to have reggae elements in their music? Idk.
Travaille, consomme et meurs: (ranked January 5)

1. Tellement de connards, si peu de cartouches
2. Ne perds pas ou je te tue
3. J'ai 30 and et j'ai rien fait
4. Déjà mort
5. Esclave de la patrie
6. Je ne sers à rien
7. Demagloria
8. Seul parmis les autres
9. La France a peur
10. La vie sous vide
11. Sandwich à la merde
12. Responsable mais pas coupable

Album cover: I know France is angry and the image tells a message. But it looks so ridiculous. B tier.
Imagine Unswabbed but heavier and ANGRIER, that's what I think about this album. They actually stepped up their game. S tier.
Flying Pooh's Spanking Day (If only Viva San Antonio was on streaming services): (ranked January 6)

1. Spanking Day
2. Good Morning Sweet Heart
3. My Lovely Ghost
4. Super Pin-up
5. Get Drunk
6. Myaghi
7. Your Life
8. Wanna Kill a Rock-Superstar
9. Me, I and Myself + Be Fat!

Album cover: What. C tier.
This is one of the weirdest and unique bands of this ranking post. They can be funky, groovy, punky, scary AND they will probably affect your psyche (hyperbole). High A.
Kiemsa's Nuits rouges: (ranked January 25)

1. Utopie
2. Bavarde
3. Brise-Glace
4. Désir
5. Jazzz Nemesis
6. Oversun
7. Cinéma
8. L'atelier fantôme
9. Salut à toi (L'intermittent)
10. Le théâtre du bruit
11. Intro + Pourquoi tu the bats
12. Apparence(s)
13. Ivresse
14. D-Block

Album cover: Why is it so cool?! S tier.
This is one of the most fun albums to listen to. It's like 40% nu metal, 60% ska. Good one. Mid-A.
Eaux troubles: (ranked January 26)

1. Sans un mot
2. Kiemsa Sucks
3. Méchant pas content
4. Spectre
5. Tequila Guerrilla
6. Qui veut savoir?
7. Dans les profondeurs + Mass Media
8. Armada
9. Please Stay
10. Orange Duck
11. Faut consommer

Album cover: Another banger S tier.
I don't know if this is better than the previous album or not, but it is still enjoyable. Mid-A.
La Logique du Pire's Coûte que coûte: (ranked January 6)

1. Au centuple
2. Coûte que coûte
3. L'espoir
4. Une vie entière pour mourir
5. Numerus Clausus
6. Pas de faiblesse
7. Jour après jour
8. Privés de lumière

Album cover: I already saw Unswabbed so I guess it's look kinda cool. High B.
Industrial as HEEELLLL!! They are good, i guess. Low A.
Hiro Shima: (ranked January 7)

1. Étouffés
2. Bête à concours
3. Masses critiques
4. Seuls contre tous
5. Personne en face
6. Courir
7. Atomik Bomb Killer
8. Le partisan
9. Est ouest
10. Re-produire
11. Le souffle du diable
12. Hiroshima

Album cover: Wow, that is quite painful... Low A.
That one is good too, got nothing to say. Mid A.
Troides Priamus Hecuba's Bienvenue à Biolandz: (ranked January 12, 11 SUPPOSEDLY)

1. Pt l'poing sur la table
2. Axxxepte
3. De la bouffe pour les porcs
4. Opposés
5. Boulot, boulot...
6. Nos valeurs
7. Aigriculture
8. Pmou
9. Bienvenue à Biolandz + Le tout pour le rien
10. La tête dans le sable
11. Adrenochome

Album cover: Wow, can't find a high quality image of that, huh. It's cool. High B.
Buncha rhythmic weirdos. They are great in rapping, holy crap. I thought I will have a hard time to listening to them but. Not really, huh? A tier.
Vous êtes ici: (Ranked January 25)

1. Message de paix
2. Nous
3. T Ki?
4. Wock'n Woll
5. L'alchimiste
6. Fuck le pipole
7. Cyborg
8. Porquoi tu mens?
9. La rézistance est tenace
10. Skyzonoïa
11. MP2P3
12. No Present
13. Cimetière Indien

Album cover: Quite a ftting image from their funny sound. High B.
I think this is better than the last album. It's way more energetic and a bit heavier. High A.
Furaya's Self Titled: (ranked January 7)

1. Bullshit
2. Amnésique
3. Impitoyable
4. La rage
5. Bernard
6. Africa

Album cover: There's two image. The man, LOVE IT WITH THE COLORS. S tier. The another one, looks ridiculous. C tier.
Ooh... This one is just generic. It did the job, tho. B tier.
Mensayak's Mondialiénation: (ranked January 7)

1. Assassins
2. L'axe du Mal
3. Système monde
4. Priorité à l'éducation
5. Bastà!
6. Indipendenza

Album cover: Again, message and stuff but eh... C tier.
See, that one is less generic. It's a bit better than Furaya. High B.
Self Titled: (ranked January 7)

1. Vergona a te
2. Mars m?
3. L'éclipse
4. 1962
5. Appétit colonial
6. Priorité

Album cover: Now, it tries to be fancy, good one. Low A.
The vocalist makes this album much more interesting and unique than the last album. I'm quite impressed. Low A.
Oedipe's Amaeru: (ranked January 8)

1. Futile
2. Gravites
3. Pardonne-moi
4. Marquise
5. Libre
6. Amaeru
7. Le lien
8. Le reflet
9. Terre promise
10. Contre moi
11. Mon automne
12. Âmes perdues (Holy shit, the biggest riff in the end)

Album cover: It's genuinely beautiful. Just WOW! S tier.
I love this album. The melody, the catchiness, hmm!! Love it. S tier.
D.Majiria's On a marché sur la Terre: (ranked January 12)

1. Contre sens
2. Faces
3. Sans toi
4. La corde raide
5. Cercle vicieux
6. Hidden Track (La mort du choix)
7. État paradoxal
8. Leur monde
9. Les enfants du sang
10. Mauvais fils
11. Semer le doute
12. La route du paradis
13. Elle me tue
14. La mort du choix

Album cover: The background looks actually nice. Barely visible but it's good. Low A.
High A, pretty good, really good.
Hybridacide.com: (ranked January 24)

1. Bombardier
2. Faces
3. Psychepultura
4. Origan
5. Rire cruel
6. aCIDe.com
7. Buenas Tardes
8. Ramirez
9. Le libre arbitre
10. Jeux dangereux
11. Hybride
12. Tahiti Bob
13. L'absente

Album cover: CIRCLE (or SPIRAL). B tier.
Some were eh, but the later parts were interesting. Low A to High B.
Twage's Self Titled: (ranked January 12)

1. Respire m
2. À force de m
3. Guerre sainte
4. Luxure et excès
5. Pardonne-moi

Album cover: It is something, I guess. B tier.
A very accessible EP. Pretty nice. High A.
Alpha Project's Seconde d'éternité: (Ranked January 13)

1. Faux semblants
2. Un monde meilleur
3. Pas facile
4. Tous ces mots
5. Ange guardien
6. Ensemble
7. Changer tout ça
8. Seconde d'éternité
9. Evidence
10. Dis-moi
11. Quelques larmes

Album cover: It looks ethereal but at the same time eh...?
This is another case of ''this album is getting better and better''. That one was actually hard to rank cuz they all sound the same. It's very accessible, à la Linkin Park. A tier.
Kobayes's à bout de souffle: (ranked January 14)

1. Monster
2. Carpe Diem
3. À bout de souffle
4. N'¸être que soi
5. Kobfeat
6. Nouveau monde
7. Lever les yeux
8. Apokalypse
9. Do You Like My Sexy Shoes?
10. Le prix à payer
11. K.D.S.
12. Simple comme une balle

Album cover: Fuck, it's creepy. Cool. Low A.
GOD, I love their sound. The thrashy hardcore sound. It was energetic as hell. S tier.
Brasero's Malade mental: (ranked January 14)

1. Sinistrose
2. Le 13ème guerrier
3. Vampirisme
4. Psycho romantique
5. Backside
6. Malade mental (they just saying every mental illness)
7. Fanatisme
8. La dame blanche
9. L'associé du diable
10. Chute libre
11. Automne à Brighton

Album cover: This one is uninteresting. D tier.
It's not bad. They have a few that sound ''unique'' but the rest is fairly just nu metal. Low A-High B.
Inimikall's Urban Division: (ranked January 14)

1. 1968 Broken Army
2. Un aller simple m
3. Amnesia
4. Une nouvelle ère
5. Holly
6. Urban Division
7. Hollywood Star
8. Homesick radio

Album cover: Holy shit. I like it! A tier.
Oh, wow. That's nice. Uhh... They are heavy, uhhhhhhhhhhhh... They good. A tier. OKNOWTHELASTBANDLETSGO!!!!!!!
S.box's el viaje: (ranked January 14)

1. Juste là
2. Au gré des vagues
3. Opic
4. Je rêve
5. L'envol
6. Les couleurs
7. Les choses changent
8. Glassjar
9. Un autre monde
10. xxx

Album cover: That one is just beautiful, huh? S tier.
This is probably the best album of all the ranking posts. It's just hit hard!! S tier.
FINALLY, IT'S DONE!! It has been more than 3 month I have worked on this. Worth it. I can do my other project, now. You don't know HOW MUCH I am relieved to finish this. I know, This is the longest ranking post ever from me. Pretty sure this post won't ever be dethroned.
So what do you think of this ranking post? Good? Bad?

Back in 1962, my wife and I were really into the franchise “Red Dead Redemption”. We used to run around with the horses and shoot farmers all the time (it was pretty funny). Sadly in 1974 I found out that I am gay (as in homosexual) and my wife died (as in deceased) immediately upon hearing the news (she was extremely homophobic [as in hating gay people]). Ever since then I could never bring myself to play Red Dead Redemption again and I was so depressed that I lost my job, my house and my legs. Then, in 2018 when the esteemed video game developers known as Rockstar Games released the highly anticipated sequel Red Dead Redemption II, all those memories came flooding back. I booted up Reddit to discuss the game with others, and I found the subreddit okbuddyblacklung. I had so much fun, it was the first time I smiled in 43 years. The people on this sub convinced me to invest $300000 of my parents will into mango farms in Tahiti and I became a billionaire. I’m now 89 years old and living my dream life! Thanks okbuddyblacklung!

Option 1: A extremely wealthy couple with slight marital problems. They live in a mansion in a very wealthy area, with luxury cars. Both your parents have worked less than a week of their life, but they are always busy with something and barely have time for you. Vacations are very frequent, and are done in exotic locations (Maldives, Tahiti, Bali, etc.)
Option 2: A well-off couple with a few marital problems. They live in a classic two-story suburban house with a basic car for each in a suburb. Both come from semi-humble backgrounds, and one is a doctor while another is a nurse. They have the weekends off for you and their family, along with an hour in the evening every couple of days a week. Vacations are taken 2-3 times a year, usually overseas.
Option 3: A working-class couple with very few marital problems related to finances. Both are recent migrants that work entry-level jobs. They live in an apartment in a big city, which they rent. They have much more time off for you as they don't bring any work home. Vacations are taken once a year, usually a 2-3 day road trip to a different state.
​
All options are in the United States.
View Poll

In 2015 I decided to 'jump the puddle', as they say. That means to sail across the Pacific Ocean, usually with a destination of Brisbane, Australia. They call it puddle jumping because instead of one big crossing, you sail short distances between countless islands, atolls, and islets sprinkled all over that great body of water. They also call it the Milk Run because of all the coconuts. It would be island hopping in paradise.
This is a story about how I did not make it across.
​
The first leg is from Puerto Vallarta, Mexico to the Galapagos, and from there to the Marquesas, a group of islands at the beginning of French Polynesia.
I am not a 'cruiser', or a 'yachtie', which means I don't own a sailboat. The only way to make the crossing was to be crew on a boat. There were a number of ways to do that.
First, you can pay your way, which was a bit expensive for me at the time. A second option is to get licensed and help deliver a boat as a paid sailor, but I didn't have enough experience to do that. The last option was to post a note on a marina announcement board, and online sailing forums, offering yourself as crew in exchange for a berth.
That's what I did.
Before I arrived in Puerto Vallarta, I did not have any plan beyond the first stage: posting an announcement. I created profiles, posted on sailing forums, and bought my plane ticket.
Down in Puerto Vallarata I stayed at the Oasis Hostel. It was not close to the marina so every day I would take the bus after waking up early and eating a pork tamal. The first day, the guards let me in when I explained that I was looking to crew a sailboat. They let me post a note to the announcement board, which was already crowded with English, French, Spanish, and German notes, mostly offering services or selling boat stuff.
My note said this:

"Hey my name's Gavin Red, and I'm looking to crew across the Pacific with an experienced captain! I can pay for my own food, and I'm willing to do everything expected of crew, from cooking, to watches, hull scrubbing, anything! I'm super respectful. Reach me at gavinred@[REDACTED] I'm staying at a hostel nearby, so let's get together and see if we're a good fit!"

It was crickets for the first few days, but I knew I was a bit early for the 'puddle jumpers' to start gathering here. Another week and it'd be the end of February, 2015. That's when things would really kick off.
The hostel was full of young fun backpackers. They had ping-pong and a kitchen. A bar, trivia night. So I wasn't bored. But I knew I wouldn't have endless chances to get on a boat. In fact it was very possible to fail at my plan. So I decided that I'd stake out the marina every day, and introduce myself to captains going in and out. The guards let me in once but I couldn't get in again unless I was a guest.
That strategy ended up working when I made friends with a guy from North Carolina who wasn't doing the Pacific crossing but was just living the boater's life in different marinas and moorages in Mexico. His name was Wally, he was a good forty years older than me, but said he refused to officially retire until he was 70.
"5 years to go!" I told me. "But hell son you couldn't tell I wasn't pensioned right now right?"
Wally got me a guest pass. He knew I was trying to get on a boat, and so he would introduce me to everyone whether he knew them or not. The marina has a common area for boaters, near the dinghy dock. It had lots of couches, tables, chairs. There was a bar there, and a restaurant. They had showers and other facilities too.
"It's fuckin' expensive son," Wally'd say. "Even for Mexico. They know they can get more out of the gringos."
It was true, of course. Of all the cruisers I met, none of them were Mexican. British, Canadian, Aussies, Kiwis, Americans, Europeans of all sorts. Boating is expensive. I think that explains it well enough. It's a privileged life, despite the difficulties.
A few weeks passed. I met a lot of people. I got to know Wally, and he even invited me out on his boat, which was in one of the marina berths. I learned more about boating, especially terminology, and helped him out on all sorts of tasks.
One day, having just arrived at the marina with a tummy full of tamal, I approached the common area. Empty beer cans littered some of the tables. There was a man I hadn't seen before. Dressed in all black. Black jeans, black flip flops. Black bandana holding back shoulder-length blond hair, a black sleeveless shirt that had no design or logo. Interesting choices for Puerto Vallarta.
Wally was sitting on one of the couches and called me over.
"This is Sandy!" he said, full of giddness and motioning to a woman maybe ten years his junior. "Son, Sandy is a catch."
I said hello as she blushed. "Wally!" she scolded playfully.
"You Gavin?"
The intrusive voice was from the black-clad guy sitting at his table nearby. Wally and Sandy's smiling faces looked toward him.
"Yes, this is Gavin," said Wally to the black-clad stranger. "He's a great feller. Known him a few weeks now. He's looking to crew to the Marquesas, are you going that way?" Wally was always pitching me before I could speak.
"I am," he said. His accent placed him in Germany. He stood, and I saw that his tight jean pockets were packed with rigid objects, like scissors or nail clippers or the like. He joined us at the couches where we were sitting.
I shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you," I said.
"I don't much like the crew," he said. "I have had bad experience with past crew. Bad crew, very lazy."
"He ain't lazy!" said Wally. "He helped me fix the bilge pump on my boat the other day."
I looked at my hands.
"I read your notice. You are American?"
"Yeah."
"Americans can be very lazy."
"Just a minute there cowboy," said Wally.
"I mean no offense," said the man. "Just some experience that I had. It is not a problem anymore."
"So you're doing the puddle jump?" I said.
"Yes. I will go first to Marquise," he said, using the French word for the same islands. "I will go to Tahiti, and I don't know from there."
"Do you need crew?"
"No," he said, sternly.
"Oh."
"I am a single handler. On a 40' Cheoy Lee. Maybe you can crew."
"Oh, you need crew then?"
"NO!" he suddenly said with an elevated voice. Wally had sat up a bit, and the man noticed. "I am sorry. I mean, that I do not need crew. I might want the company yes." Wally eyed me.
"Oh yeah of course! I didn't mean to suggest you needed anyone to handle the boat."
"That is it," he affirmed.
The conversation moved to other things. That was the moment I met Konrad. In the next few days, I didn't see much of him. I had other leads on crew positions but they proved unserious. Then came a very strange day.
​
"I'm heading out," said Wally. His eyes were darting in different directions. It wasn't like him to be so fidgety.
"Oh?" I said. "And Sandy?" Wally waved his hand dismissively. "I see. Hey, are you alright?"
"Listen," he said, looking fixedly into my eyes. "Don't go with Konrad."
"Konrad? Oh the German guy. I think that ship has sailed, so to speak."
"Don't joke," he said in a harsh little whisper. It was really unlike him.
"Where are you going? Back over to La Paz?"
"Pay attention listen to me!" he snapped. "Your captain will show up. It's still early. Just don't go with Konrad."
"Whoa," I uttered. "What happened?"
His eyes were clearly searching mine, but he didn't say anything. He just stood up, pulled me to stand and gave me a hug. It was too bad he wasn't heading west, it would've been a comfortable crossing. At least, it wouldn't have almost killed me.
The rest of the week I actually didn't go to the marina. It was depressing to have lost my only friend. I still had a guest pass but I knew the guards wouldn't care by now. I spent my time meeting travelers in the hostel, surfing some, and eating tacos. Got a bad sunburn, had a cute backpacker I met lather on some aloe vera. That was nice.
But the adventure called me back. I checked the online forums, no luck.
I met a lot more people over the next couple weeks. Made some acquaintances, joined some parties in the marina's common area, got invited onto some boats to hang out. People were interested in me. I had the general feeling that I'd find a boat soon, having been accepted so easily. But most people weren't looking for crew. And days turned into weeks. I saw more cruisers pull anchor and head west. I couldn't be mad--I didn't have a boat. I didn't deserve to be on someone else's, I guess. But I really wanted to cross the ocean.
February was long gone, and March and April had slipped by almost unnoticed. I wouldn't have noticed either if not for two things: the window for sailing across the pacific was closing fast; and my bank account was hurting because of the hostel. Maybe I hadn't planned this so well. Maybe I just buy a plane ticket home and get a job. Do the normal thing.
"Hey, tienes que irte," someone said. I perked up. I was alone in the common area, at a table cradling a coke.
"What?" I said. It was one of the guards.
"You have to leave my friend."
"Oh, but, I'm just. You know, looking to crew."
"You're not allowed," he said.
"I've been coming in here for months. Meses," I emphasized.
"No good amigo," he said.
Well that was it. I stood, cuddled my coke, and began to follow the guard out. I felt melancholy. My adventure didn't happen, so I'd end up going home. I guess I met some good people, ate good food. At least there's that.
"GAVIN, what are you doing!?"
Both the guard and I swivelled to see black-clad Konrad storming toward us, all six foot six of his height. I hadn't seen him for a long time and it was a surprise, but also he was fuming. We both stumbled backward, expecting to be run over. But he stopped short.
"What?" I said, bewildered.
"You are coming are you not?"
"I.. coming... on your boat?" I said. He looked at the guard, and at me.
"Get the fuel jug, and put it in the dinghy," he said, pointing.
"Oh, if I can come, I..." I thought about Wally's warning. Disregarded it. Stupid. "Sure I can come!"
"Get the jug," he ordered.
I knew the guard didn't care that much if I had a boat to join, but when I tried to explain that we're cool, Konrad gave me a stare that said 'don't you fuck with me, American.' I don't know why but I submitted, and hustled over to the jug he pointed at. The guard left. At the dock I set the jug into a dinghy that Konrad had boarded.
"Tomorrow we leave. Come back, 5am. We go to Galapagos, then Marquise."
"Excellent, will do!"
I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
​
Next morning, I checked out of the hostel, took a taxi to the marina. Met Konrad in the dinghy, motored out to his Cheoy Lee, 40' monohull. I stashed my backpack in the V-berth then joined Konrad in the cockpit.
Something about leaving a moorage is romantic. Poetic. Especially when the sun is near the horizon, making colors that paint the world brilliantly. This morning, altocumulus cloud cover stretched like a duvet over the world, letting the sunrise peak under it to light its bubbly underbelly with yellows and oranges for as far as one could see. I love that feeling, upwelling in the chest, a bit of happiness at observing natural phenomena.
I turned to share something of what I felt with my new captain. But Konrad wasn't Wally. He was sitting down holding the tiller, still wearing black jeans and flipflops but shirtless. I don't know if this was the moment that I realized something was off, but I know it's a moment that stands out to me because of how swiftly the wonder I'd felt was smothered in dread.
Konrad was looking at me with a wide grin and glintless eyes. While one hand held the tiller with a white-knuckled grip, the other was scratching the hair on his chest in a queer rhythmic motion, bending the fingers swiftly without moving the hand. It was asbolutely bizarre. Quietly, he turned to the nav computer as we cleared the last buoy.
I felt sick. Was it the boat? Seasickness? Or something deeper and darker that I couldn't identify back then? He was like a plastic figurine, staring without life, without even blinking. What the hell? I remember thinking, what the hell have I gotten myself into? Why didn't I listen to Wally? Is it too late to swim back? No, don't be stupid. It'll be fine. It'll be just fine.
Over the next few days I learned more about what to expect from captain Konrad.
He was... unpredictable. His mood shifted in ways I couldn't read.
I would be on watch, which is when someone keeps a lookout for other boats to correct course and avoid collision, and he would emerge from the cabin frenzied and scream at me "Are you aware!? Do you see, are your eyes open!?" before scurrying back down and slamming the hatch. Or, I'd be up at the jib, the forward sail, manually rolling it out under his direction (normal enough for an old Cheoy Lee), when suddenly he'd take a different tack awkwardly into the waves, which would pummel me as we dove into them, throwing me off balance. Or I would be cooking dinner, and he would be sitting there reading one of his autobiographies of obscure entomologists (I could write this whole thing about his book collection), and he'd command me to make something else, even if I was at the point of serving.
Suffice it to say that Konrad had mental issues.
As crew, you're not in charge. You are utterly not in control. You do as the captain says. That's just law. On international water, it is very much the only pertinent maritime law that I knew of. Despite Konrad's behavior, I still did what he said, and held my tongue otherwise.
But then came the doldrums.
​
Near the equator, the northeast and southeast trade winds converge, resulting in a latitude of calm water. A sailboat is becalmed, meaning it sits in low to nil winds. Some cruisers turn on their motors at this point, to advance at least a little bit. We did not.
The wind was quiet. When there was any at all, our sails luffed and did not catch enough to go forward. When the boat stayed becalmed, it rocked back at forth along its length. I got seasick, and threw up over the transom. It's like a cruel ride.
I couldn't tell if Konrad was also sick, but he was withdrawn. So much so that I ended up taking over all duties on the boat. When I cooked for him, he retreated to the v-berth to eat, and... make cackling noises. He would come out, and disappear again into his insect books.
I felt afraid to sleep in my berth because it was just the bench in the main cabin, not my own private space. He slept in the v-berth with the door shut. I tried to spend more time above deck. When I did sleep, I did so outside in the cockpit. But it meant there was no one on watch. The auto-pilot would steer. I suppose it wasn't terrible--we were not in any major shipping lanes. Anyway, I found a bit of solice out there alone in the soft nights.
One night, I was alone at the bow. We were bobbing back and forth. I sat on the forecastle, my legs straddling it and dangling, toes dipping into the warm water at irregular intervals. Still becalmed, the water lapped against the hull in small noises. No bugs, no wind, no cold, no heat. Quiet enough to hear the moon.
I need to recount this correctly. I felt a chill run down my back. At that very moment I heard a harsh shuddering whisper and spun around to see Konrad, fully clad in black jeans and hoodie. He face was drawn back like a starving cave dweller, his skin ice blue. I could see his breath in the air even though it was warm out. His unshaven whiskers looked like stab wounds.
"My worship," he said. I can't describe it. Shuddering whisper I wrote, but it was voiced. It was deep and fragmented and full of terror. It was so fucking quiet out that his voice felt right beside me, as if his lips were breathing the words into my ear. I was so scared I jumped up and slammed my knee against a stanchion and wailed in pain. Konrad didn't move a muscle, didn't look at me.
"What the hell!?" I screamed. Nothing echos where there are no surfaces to throw sound back at you. Becalmed on the water, in profound dark of night, in the biggest open space on the planet, I felt the claustrophobia of being trapped in a tiny room with an insane man.
He empty eyes, glintless even as they looked up toward the moon, were like matte marbles. His lips looked frozen, his shoulders thrown back in some kind of incongruous clutching posture. I half expected an alien to burst from his chest, but that absurd yet relieving thought was damned by his frightening words.
"My worship," I heard him say. "We are for your depths."
This moment was a threshold. I'd been obedient to this point, as crew should. Perhaps my role had blinded me from his growing lunacy, and this was the last straw. I screamed, and rushed past him back toward the cockpit. I went down into the cabin and entered the head (the toilet), slammed its door shut and flipped the lock. The shock of the LED light felt unnatural. The plastic walls reflected my rapid breathing at me. What had just happened? I'm so fucked.
Needless to say I did not sleep. I did not hear Konrad enter the v-berth. It was morning now, as the porthole let in the first rays of morning. The wind had picked up. We were moving. I emerged from the bathroom.
"Finally," said Konrad, who was cooking at the gimbal stove. "You Americans. You have no style."
I couldn't speak. He was still wearing his black jeans. Bare feet, no shirt. Hair loose around his face.
As if last night had not happened.
"Are you ok?" I managed to ask.
"Yes fine. We are underway. Air power. We will not go to the Galapagos, we go straight to the Marquise."
I froze, my tongue working its way into movement. I wanted to say no. The Galapagos was only days away. The Marquesas were weeks. I needed to get off the boat. This man was clearly not right in his head. His behavior had transformed into something unclassifiable. Dangerous? Insane? I didn't know. I had to get off the boat.
"Fine," I said.
It shocked even me. Perhaps his normality was suddenly disarming. I couldn't bring myself to demand the captain do what I wanted. I was just crew. Nothing but a tag-along. Did I doom myself? What should I do?
There were a few days of what I could call a new normal. Konrad was unpredictable again, and it frightened me. But the episode on the deck that night did not repeat itself. I did not lock myself into the head at night.
Then came the storm.
​
Something all prospective crew should learn to do: verify the seaworthiness of the boats you're about to board. Your life depends on it.
I had sailed before, but I didn't have enough experience to know what to look for. Wally had mentioned this. We'd had conversations about it. But cruisers had an air of knowing. Most of them talked about sailing ninety percent of the time and the other ten percent talked about how expensive it was. I passively accepted that anyone gearing up to cross the Pacific Ocean was doing so with equipment and a vessel fit to task.
The storm arrived in a torrent of water breaching the roof hatches. That is when I learned the boat was not watertight. It came in great waterfalls through all openings: the hatches, portholes, even the mast's electric access. Water coursed down over the navigation equipment that apparently was not sealed against water either because it shot sparks into the air and popped and smoked. The whole boat shuddered under a second wave that knocked us down. That means our mast was against the surface of the water for a moment, and the starboard hull was momentarily our floor; and it felt like ages for the weight of the keel to right us once more.
Konrad snapped into action. We went above deck. I learned we had no lifevests. We had no lifeboat, only the dinghy. We had only one small harness to attach ourselves to the line that led to the bow, where we'd have to collapse some of the jib. We did all this, knowing at any moment another wave could crash across the boat and sweep us into the surf. Konrad wore the harness anyway, so it'd have been me lost at sea.
"Need to heave-to!" he screamed over the rasping wind and rain.
The halyards snapped against the mast, the boat creaked under the onslaught of waves.
After securing the smaller jib, we worked our way to the mainsail, and lowered it to a third of its surface area.
Back in the cockpit we disengaged the autopilot and turned the boat into the wind, the insufficient motor now turned on and struggled to execute just one movement. Finally it pushed the boat over a cresting wave, and the downward momentum breached a threshold after which our position had the mainsail backwinded counter to the jib. I turned off the engine. The boat now had no forward momentum, and sat hove-to at a sixty degree angle to the oncoming swell.
For the first time I looked out across the night to perceive the raging storm that had engulfed our small vessel in endless whitecaps. Mountainous waves like marching Tolkien oliphaunts raised us to impossible heights before dropping us into troughs that seemed like they'd consume our boat for a snack. No lightning, but stinging rain and seawash lashing us from all sides. A deep rumble vibrated the boat, as if the storm spoke.
I followed Konrad into the cabin, and secured the hatch behind me.
Neither of us spoke. We were soaked. I changed into a dry pair of trunks. Konrad when into the v-berth and closed the door.
I settled onto my berth, electing not to eat.
I had to brace myself against the opposite berth with both legs to not fall from the horrible pitch of the boat. Loud whining noises came from the wind blasting the halyards. I heard the metallic snap of a stanchion. Then terror.
A fearsome scream from the v-berth that rattled the door. A loud thumping, and more screaming. Bloody screams. Terror and pain vibrating louder than the storm itself. Any elation I might have felt from the above-deck tasks of securing the boat were drowned in my abrupt petrification.
Mom, I thought, and whimpered. What's happening in there?
I did not sleep. The storm howled. Konrad raved. I retreated to the cockpit when the sloshing water in the cabin began to turn red from under the v-berth door.
For hours my muscles braced and tired. The boat was smashed by crashing waves, rocked. I had clipped in using the only harness. I wore a rainjacket with hood now. It was warm, but it shielded me from the harsh rain. The autopilot kept the tiller, we stayed hove-to. Alone in watery mountains. If the boat failed none would know. We would simply disappear. My mind raced.
I should be terrified of the storm, I thought. But the screaming pierced both the v-berth door and the closed cabin hatch, and tormented me. I screamed a few times. But it was tiring. Fear is tiring. One moment I knew I'd die drowning, thrown overboard. The next, I'd doze off even in the face of the storm and Konrad's endless screaming.
So tired. I'm so tired. I slept.
​
Konrad's face was right in front of me. I searched for energy to scream, but had none. My body hurt. I'd slept braced in the small cockpit, sloshed around. He stood on the steps, his torso exposed through the hatch. My eyes hurt from salt water, more when I rubbed them. Though the storm had calmed some, it was still whistling as it whipped pieces of the boat. It was morning, that deep grey early morning. I struggled and kicked, pushing myself as far away from Konrad as possible, my back against the transom, my eyes coming into focus. It was still eerily dark but I could make out that Konrad was holding something. He had on his hoodie and I couldn't seem him clearly.
But he stepped up into the cockpit and then I saw it. His face. He had no eyes, no ears, no lips, no nose. It was a bloody mangled mess of flesh, ripped skin and muscle and bone, stark white in the grey light. A distinct smell permeated the short distance between us--butcher's shop smell. I threw up immediately.
I could see his breath, noted it was cold out as well. He nursed a large object in his arms I couldn't recognize. Looked like a lantern. His pockets were pulled out of his jeans, emptied of whatever had been in there. Blood soaked his hoodie, his jeans. He bled, and the sloshing water turned crimson. I scampered out of it and onto the bench beside the tiller.
I struggle to describe this again, worse than before. His voice. Without lips he sucked air, and in that thick German accent he spoke in a shuddering whisper.
"My worship, I come." His head turned south-southeast, as if he could see. I stayed as far from him as the cockpit space allowed. He took a step in that direction.
"My reliquary," he hissed. Wind snapped the stanchions lightly. The boat rocked. He balanced perfectly. He held up the lantern and repeated, eager this time. "My reliquary for your depths!"
I noticed thick globs of blood dripping rapidly from the lantern. The cockpit water became darker red. I threw up into it again, unable to retain the disgust and fear and pain.
His bloodied and cut hands unlatched the latern and opened it. He began picking things from it, and throwing them into the chop. They disappeared under the surface with a little red splash. They were the pieces of him. I saw him try twice to grip a slimey eye and discard it without a second thought. His nose. His ears.
"My reliquary," he shuddered. Then, drawing breath through blood-caked lipless teeth, he yowled, like a cat's deep lament. "We are for your depths!" He threw his arms out, the lantern crashing into the waves, threw his head back. He stomped up onto the bench and leaned over until gravity pulled him fully overboard and into the ocean. Blood-red splash as he fell in.
Despite my fear I rushed to the side and looked down into the water. We were hove-to and not moving. The storm still raged but I could somehow see the shape of Konrad's body sinking.
This part I don't expect anyone to believe. But I know what I saw. It seemed that an unnatural swell formed and lifted the boat. It was not in rhythm with the marching oliphaunts. I did not see anything, per se. But when Konrad's outline finally disappeared, it was under a great shadow that seemed to sweep across leagues of space. Something was down there, beneath me. Not a shark, not a whale, something else. I knew in that very instant, and I had no words to react--I threw myself down into the cockpit, elbow deep in the rancid bloody water. I sat there, shivering in shock, and didn't move until the storm had stopped and the rancid water had filtered down into the bilge.
​
Nothing registered. I lived through some untold nightmare. But I was still there, on the boat in the middle of the sea. Somehow my muscles moved and I did things. I pumped the bilge manually. I picked things up from the floor. I kept the v-berth door shut after I glimpsed its horror. My body hurt. My head pounded. I was hungry. The engine was broken. The solar panels pulled no juice. The navigation was fried.
My last resort was the radio. I turned it on to VHF channel 16, and repeated "Mayday" a few times. No answer.
I organized myself enough to cook and eat. I re-set the sails and got underway. Not knowing where I was, I just went north. We had to be close to the Galapagos. Soon I would hear a Spanish accent over the radio, I thought.
A few days later I got my answer.
"Hello," came the voice. They spoke English, no accent that I knew.
"Mayday! I'm a boat, we were in a storm, the captain is gone."
"What are your coordinates?"
"I have no navigation, I don't know. The boat's name is Ree Yeah. We left Puerto Vallarta about two weeks ago, going to Marquesas. I... I need, I don't know I need to get to land."
They were able to locate me. A rescue vessel was dispatched, and found me a day later. When they hauled me aboard I was surprised to find that they were not Ecuadorian at all. Some looked Polynesian, others European.
"Where am I?" I said.
A large woman wrapped a blanket around me.
"We were about to ask you that," she said. "The dispatch said you came from Mexico?"
"Yeah, about two weeks ago."
"Two weeks?" she chuckled, and shared some looks with others of her crew. "That's impossible."
"Where... where am I? Who are you all?"
"We're out of Pitcairn Island my fellow," she said with a smile. "Seems you drifted quite a lot further than you thought! And you probably bumped your head too if you think you're two weeks from Puerto Vallarta."
​
That's my story.
I was taken to Pitcairn. It's extremely far south. It's 2,800 nautical miles from the Galapagos. It's about 2,000 from Hiva Oa in the Marquesas islands. It's the island furthest from any other landmass on the globe, and I was well south of it. No man's land. What I'm trying to say is that the lady was right: it is impossible that we drifted so far off course. We were hove-to. We shouldn't have been moving at all. We were only a day from the Galapagos, for God's sake. Look at a map and you'll see how insane I must have seemed. Of course they never believed me. They never went aboard the boat because I had to climb a rope ladder onto their ship. They didn't see the horrors Konrad left me.
Worse, there was no record of Ree Yeah at Puerto Vallarta. There was no record of any German captain named Konrad there. I'm still trying to find his family, or anyone that knew him. I can't even get in touch with Wally because we never exchanged information, and he's not on social media. I never learned either of their last names.
That's it. You've made it to the end. It's February 2023. I've lived eight years of my life with nightmares of the ocean. They say you need to confront your fears, so that's what I'm doing. I'm in Puerto Vallarta again. I own my own boat, a cheap boat but it's mine. She's seaworthy. I stocked up not for the Milk Run, but for Pitcairn. I'm going back there. I have to know that what I saw was real; if it is really more than a tale, even if it costs me everything.
In case I go missing I'm leaving my information here.
I'm lifting anchor on March 15th. My boat's name is Redemption. My name is Gavin Red. I'm heading first to the Pearl Islands, then the Galapagos, and then to Pitcairn. From there my destination is [REDACTED]°[REDACTED]′S [REDACTED]°[REDACTED]′W. I'm giving myself two months. I'm not taking crew. Don't follow me, for the love of God.

In 2015 I decided to 'jump the puddle', as they say. That means to sail across the Pacific Ocean, usually with a destination of Brisbane, Australia. They call it puddle jumping because instead of one big crossing, you sail short distances between countless islands, atolls, and islets sprinkled all over that great body of water. They also call it the Milk Run because of all the coconuts. It would be island hopping in paradise.
This is a story about how I did not make it across.
The first leg is from Puerto Vallarta, Mexico to the Galapagos, and from there to the Marquesas, a group of islands at the beginning of French Polynesia.
I am not a 'cruiser', or a 'yachtie', which means I don't own a sailboat. The only way to make the crossing was to be crew on a boat. There were a number of ways to do that.
First, you can pay your way, which was a bit expensive for me at the time. A second option is to get licensed and help deliver a boat as a paid sailor, but I didn't have enough experience to do that. The last option was to post a note on a marina announcement board, and online sailing forums, offering yourself as crew in exchange for a berth.
That's what I did.
Before I arrived in Puerto Vallarta, I did not have any plan beyond the first stage: posting an announcement. I created profiles, posted on sailing forums, and bought my plane ticket.
Down in Puerto Vallarata I stayed at the Oasis Hostel. It was not close to the marina so every day I would take the bus after waking up early and eating a pork tamal. The first day, the guards let me in when I explained that I was looking to crew a sailboat. They let me post a note to the announcement board, which was already crowded with English, French, Spanish, and German notes, mostly offering services or selling boat stuff.
My note said this:

"Hey my name's Gavin Red, and I'm looking to crew across the Pacific with an experienced captain! I can pay for my own food, and I'm willing to do everything expected of crew, from cooking, to watches, hull scrubbing, anything! I'm super respectful. Reach me at [gavinred@warmmail.com--I](mailto:gavinred@warmmail.com--I)'m staying at a hostel nearby, so let's get together and see if we're a good fit!"

It was crickets for the first few days, but I knew I was a bit early for the 'puddle jumpers' to start gathering here. Another week and it'd be the end of February, 2015. That's when things would really kick off.
The hostel was full of young fun backpackers. They had ping-pong and a kitchen. A bar, trivia night. So I wasn't bored. But I knew I wouldn't have endless chances to get on a boat. In fact it was very possible to fail at my plan. So I decided that I'd stake out the marina every day, and introduce myself to captains going in and out. The guards let me in once but I couldn't get in again unless I was a guest.
That strategy ended up working when I made friends with a guy from North Carolina who wasn't doing the Pacific crossing but was just living the boater's life in different marinas and moorages in Mexico. His name was Wally, he was a good forty years older than me, but said he refused to officially retire until he was 70.
"5 years to go!" I told me. "But hell son you couldn't tell I wasn't pensioned right now right?"
Wally got me a guest pass. He knew I was trying to get on a boat, and so he would introduce me to everyone whether he knew them or not. The marina has a common area for boaters, near the dinghy dock. It had lots of couches, tables, chairs. There was a bar there, and a restaurant. They had showers and other facilities too.
"It's fuckin' expensive son," Wally'd say. "Even for Mexico. They know they can get more out of the gringos."
It was true, of course. Of all the cruisers I met, none of them were Mexican. British, Canadian, Aussies, Kiwis, Americans, Europeans of all sorts. Boating is expensive. I think that explains it well enough. It's a privileged life, despite the difficulties.
A few weeks passed. I met a lot of people. I got to know Wally, and he even invited me out on his boat, which was in one of the marina berths. I learned more about boating, especially terminology, and helped him out on all sorts of tasks.
One day, having just arrived at the marina with a tummy full of tamal, I approached the common area. Empty beer cans littered some of the tables. There was a man I hadn't seen before. Dressed in all black. Black jeans, black flip flops. Black bandana holding back shoulder-length blond hair, a black sleeveless shirt that had no design or logo. Interesting choices for Puerto Vallarta.
Wally was sitting on one of the couches and called me over.
"This is Sandy!" he said, full of giddness and motioning to a woman maybe ten years his junior. "Son, Sandy is a catch."
I said hello as she blushed. "Wally!" she scolded playfully.
"You Gavin?"
The intrusive voice was from the black-clad guy sitting at his table nearby. Wally and Sandy's smiling faces looked toward him.
"Yes, this is Gavin," said Wally to the black-clad stranger. "He's a great feller. Known him a few weeks now. He's looking to crew to the Marquesas, are you going that way?" Wally was always pitching me before I could speak.
"I am," he said. His accent placed him in Germany. He stood, and I saw that his tight jean pockets were packed with rigid objects, like scissors or nail clippers or the like. He joined us at the couches where we were sitting.
I shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you," I said.
"I don't much like the crew," he said. "I have had bad experience with past crew. Bad crew, very lazy."
"He ain't lazy!" said Wally. "He helped me fix the bilge pump on my boat the other day."
I looked at my hands.
"I read your notice. You are American?"
"Yeah."
"Americans can be very lazy."
"Just a minute there cowboy," said Wally.
"I mean no offense," said the man. "Just some experience that I had. It is not a problem anymore."
"So you're doing the puddle jump?" I said.
"Yes. I will go first to Marquise," he said, using the French word for the same islands. "I will go to Tahiti, and I don't know from there."
"Do you need crew?"
"No," he said, sternly.
"Oh."
"I am a single handler. On a 40' Cheoy Lee. Maybe you can crew."
"Oh, you need crew then?"
"NO!" he suddenly said with an elevated voice. Wally had sat up a bit, and the man noticed. "I am sorry. I mean, that I do not need crew. I might want the company yes." Wally eyed me.
"Oh yeah of course! I didn't mean to suggest you needed anyone to handle the boat."
"That is it," he affirmed.
The conversation moved to other things. That was the moment I met Konrad. In the next few days, I didn't see much of him. I had other leads on crew positions but they proved unserious. Then came a very strange day.
"I'm heading out," said Wally. His eyes were darting in different directions. It wasn't like him to be so fidgety.
"Oh?" I said. "And Sandy?" Wally waved his hand dismissively. "I see. Hey, are you alright?"
"Listen," he said, looking fixedly into my eyes. "Don't go with Konrad."
"Konrad? Oh the German guy. I think that ship has sailed, so to speak."
"Don't joke," he said in a harsh little whisper. It was really unlike him.
"Where are you going? Back over to La Paz?"
"Pay attention listen to me!" he snapped. "Your captain will show up. It's still early. Just don't go with Konrad."
"Whoa," I uttered. "What happened?"
His eyes were clearly searching mine, but he didn't say anything. He just stood up, pulled me to stand and gave me a hug. It was too bad he wasn't heading west, it would've been a comfortable crossing. At least, it wouldn't have almost killed me.
The rest of the week I actually didn't go to the marina. It was depressing to have lost my only friend. I still had a guest pass but I knew the guards wouldn't care by now. I spent my time meeting travelers in the hostel, surfing some, and eating tacos. Got a bad sunburn, had a cute backpacker I met lather on some aloe vera. That was nice.
But the adventure called me back. I checked the online forums, no luck.
I met a lot more people over the next couple weeks. Made some acquaintances, joined some parties in the marina's common area, got invited onto some boats to hang out. People were interested in me. I had the general feeling that I'd find a boat soon, having been accepted so easily. But most people weren't looking for crew. And days turned into weeks. I saw more cruisers pull anchor and head west. I couldn't be mad--I didn't have a boat. I didn't deserve to be on someone else's, I guess. But I really wanted to cross the ocean.
February was long gone, and March and April had slipped by almost unnoticed. I wouldn't have noticed either if not for two things: the window for sailing across the pacific was closing fast; and my bank account was hurting because of the hostel. Maybe I hadn't planned this so well. Maybe I just buy a plane ticket home and get a job. Do the normal thing.
"Hey, tienes que irte," someone said. I perked up. I was alone in the common area, at a table cradling a coke.
"What?" I said. It was one of the guards.
"You have to leave my friend."
"Oh, but, I'm just. You know, looking to crew."
"You're not allowed," he said.
"I've been coming in here for months. Meses," I emphasized.
"No good amigo," he said.
Well that was it. I stood, cuddled my coke, and began to follow the guard out. I felt melancholy. My adventure didn't happen, so I'd end up going home. I guess I met some good people, ate good food. At least there's that.
"GAVIN, what are you doing!?"
Both the guard and I swivelled to see black-clad Konrad storming toward us, all six foot six of his height. I hadn't seen him for a long time and it was a surprise, but also he was fuming. We both stumbled backward, expecting to be run over. But he stopped short.
"What?" I said, bewildered.
"You are coming are you not?"
"I.. coming... on your boat?" I said. He looked at the guard, and at me.
"Get the fuel jug, and put it in the dinghy," he said, pointing.
"Oh, if I can come, I..." I thought about Wally's warning. Disregarded it. Stupid. "Sure I can come!"
"Get the jug," he ordered.
I knew the guard didn't care that much if I had a boat to join, but when I tried to explain that we're cool, Konrad gave me a stare that said 'don't you fuck with me, American.' I don't know why but I submitted, and hustled over to the jug he pointed at. The guard left. At the dock I set the jug into a dinghy that Konrad had boarded.
"Tomorrow we leave. Come back, 5am. We go to Galapagos, then Marquise."
"Excellent, will do!"
I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
Next morning, I checked out of the hostel, took a taxi to the marina. Met Konrad in the dinghy, motored out to his Cheoy Lee, 40' monohull. I stashed my backpack in the V-berth then joined Konrad in the cockpit.
Something about leaving a moorage is romantic. Poetic. Especially when the sun is near the horizon, making colors that paint the world brilliantly. This morning, altocumulus cloud cover stretched like a duvet over the world, letting the sunrise peak under it to light its bubbly underbelly with yellows and oranges for as far as one could see. I love that feeling, upwelling in the chest, a bit of happiness at observing natural phenomena.
I turned to share something of what I felt with my new captain. But Konrad wasn't Wally. He was sitting down holding the tiller, still wearing black jeans and flipflops but shirtless. I don't know if this was the moment that I realized something was off, but I know it's a moment that stands out to me because of how swiftly the wonder I'd felt was smothered in dread.
Konrad was looking at me with a wide grin and glintless eyes. While one hand held the tiller with a white-knuckled grip, the other was scratching the hair on his chest in a queer rhythmic motion, bending the fingers swiftly without moving the hand. It was asbolutely bizarre. Quietly, he turned to the nav computer as we cleared the last buoy.
I felt sick. Was it the boat? Seasickness? Or something deeper and darker that I couldn't identify back then? He was like a plastic figurine, staring without life, without even blinking. What the hell? I remember thinking, what the hell have I gotten myself into? Why didn't I listen to Wally? Is it too late to swim back? No, don't be stupid. It'll be fine. It'll be just fine.
Over the next few days I learned more about what to expect from captain Konrad.
He was... unpredictable. His mood shifted in ways I couldn't read.
I would be on watch, which is when someone keeps a lookout for other boats to correct course and avoid collision, and he would emerge from the cabin frenzied and scream at me "Are you aware!? Do you see, are your eyes open!?" before scurrying back down and slamming the hatch. Or, I'd be up at the jib, the forward sail, manually rolling it out under his direction (normal enough for an old Cheoy Lee), when suddenly he'd take a different tack awkwardly into the waves, which would pummel me as we dove into them, throwing me off balance. Or I would be cooking dinner, and he would be sitting there reading one of his autobiographies of obscure entomologists (I could write this whole thing about his book collection), and he'd command me to make something else, even if I was at the point of serving.
Suffice it to say that Konrad had mental issues.
As crew, you're not in charge. You are utterly not in control. You do as the captain says. That's just law. On international water, it is very much the only pertinent maritime law that I knew of. Despite Konrad's behavior, I still did what he said, and held my tongue otherwise.
But then came the doldrums.
Near the equator, the northeast and southeast trade winds converge, resulting in a latitude of calm water. A sailboat is becalmed, meaning it sits in low to nil winds. Some cruisers turn on their motors at this point, to advance at least a little bit. We did not.
The wind was quiet. When there was any at all, our sails luffed and did not catch enough to go forward. When the boat stayed becalmed, it rocked back at forth along its length. I got seasick, and threw up over the transom. It's like a cruel ride.
I couldn't tell if Konrad was also sick, but he was withdrawn. So much so that I ended up taking over all duties on the boat. When I cooked for him, he retreated to the v-berth to eat, and... make cackling noises. He would come out, and disappear again into his insect books.
I felt afraid to sleep in my berth because it was just the bench in the main cabin, not my own private space. He slept in the v-berth with the door shut. I tried to spend more time above deck. When I did sleep, I did so outside in the cockpit. But it meant there was no one on watch. The auto-pilot would steer. I suppose it wasn't terrible--we were not in any major shipping lanes. Anyway, I found a bit of solice out there alone in the soft nights.
One night, I was alone at the bow. We were bobbing back and forth. I sat on the forecastle, my legs straddling it and dangling, toes dipping into the warm water at irregular intervals. Still becalmed, the water lapped against the hull in small noises. No bugs, no wind, no cold, no heat. Quiet enough to hear the moon.
I need to recount this correctly. I felt a chill run down my back. At that very moment I heard a harsh shuddering whisper and spun around to see Konrad, fully clad in black jeans and hoodie. He face was drawn back like a starving cave dweller, his skin ice blue. I could see his breath in the air even though it was warm out. His unshaven whiskers looked like stab wounds.
"My worship," he said. I can't describe it. Shuddering whisper I wrote, but it was voiced. It was deep and fragmented and full of terror. It was so fucking quiet out that his voice felt right beside me, as if his lips were breathing the words into my ear. I was so scared I jumped up and slammed my knee against a stanchion and wailed in pain. Konrad didn't move a muscle, didn't look at me.
"What the hell!?" I screamed. Nothing echos where there are no surfaces to throw sound back at you. Becalmed on the water, in profound dark of night, in the biggest open space on the planet, I felt the claustrophobia of being trapped in a tiny room with an insane man.
He empty eyes, glintless even as they looked up toward the moon, were like matte marbles. His lips looked frozen, his shoulders thrown back in some kind of incongruous clutching posture. I half expected an alien to burst from his chest, but that absurd yet relieving thought was damned by his frightening words.
"My worship," I heard him say. "We are for your depths."
This moment was a threshold. I'd been obedient to this point, as crew should. Perhaps my role had blinded me from his growing lunacy, and this was the last straw. I screamed, and rushed past him back toward the cockpit. I went down into the cabin and entered the head (the toilet), slammed its door shut and flipped the lock. The shock of the LED light felt unnatural. The plastic walls reflected my rapid breathing at me. What had just happened? I'm so fucked.
Needless to say I did not sleep. I did not hear Konrad enter the v-berth. It was morning now, as the porthole let in the first rays of morning. The wind had picked up. We were moving. I emerged from the bathroom.
"Finally," said Konrad, who was cooking at the gimbal stove. "You Americans. You have no style."
I couldn't speak. He was still wearing his black jeans. Bare feet, no shirt. Hair loose around his face.
As if last night had not happened.
"Are you ok?" I managed to ask.
"Yes fine. We are underway. Air power. We will not go to the Galapagos, we go straight to the Marquise."
I froze, my tongue working its way into movement. I wanted to say no. The Galapagos was only days away. The Marquesas were weeks. I needed to get off the boat. This man was clearly not right in his head. His behavior had transformed into something unclassifiable. Dangerous? Insane? I didn't know. I had to get off the boat.
"Fine," I said.
It shocked even me. Perhaps his normality was suddenly disarming. I couldn't bring myself to demand the captain do what I wanted. I was just crew. Nothing but a tag-along. Did I doom myself? What should I do?
There were a few days of what I could call a new normal. Konrad was unpredictable again, and it frightened me. But the episode on the deck that night did not repeat itself. I did not lock myself into the head at night.
Then came the storm.
Something all prospective crew should learn to do: verify the seaworthiness of the boats you're about to board. Your life depends on it.
I had sailed before, but I didn't have enough experience to know what to look for. Wally had mentioned this. We'd had conversations about it. But cruisers had an air of knowing. Most of them talked about sailing ninety percent of the time and the other ten percent talked about how expensive it was. I passively accepted that anyone gearing up to cross the Pacific Ocean was doing so with equipment and a vessel fit to task.
The storm arrived in a torrent of water breaching the roof hatches. That is when I learned the boat was not watertight. It came in great waterfalls through all openings: the hatches, portholes, even the mast's electric access. Water coursed down over the navigation equipment that apparently was not sealed against water either because it shot sparks into the air and popped and smoked. The whole boat shuddered under a second wave that knocked us down. That means our mast was against the surface of the water for a moment, and the starboard hull was momentarily our floor; and it felt like ages for the weight of the keel to right us once more.
Konrad snapped into action. We went above deck. I learned we had no lifevests. We had no lifeboat, only the dinghy. We had only one small harness to attach ourselves to the line that led to the bow, where we'd have to collapse some of the jib. We did all this, knowing at any moment another wave could crash across the boat and sweep us into the surf. Konrad wore the harness anyway, so it'd have been me lost at sea.
"Need to heave-to!" he screamed over the rasping wind and rain.
The halyards snapped against the mast, the boat creaked under the onslaught of waves.
After securing the smaller jib, we worked our way to the mainsail, and lowered it to a third of its surface area.
Back in the cockpit we disengaged the autopilot and turned the boat into the wind, the insufficient motor now turned on and struggled to execute just one movement. Finally it pushed the boat over a cresting wave, and the downward momentum breached a threshold after which our position had the mainsail backwinded counter to the jib. I turned off the engine. The boat now had no forward momentum, and sat hove-to at a sixty degree angle to the oncoming swell.
For the first time I looked out across the night to perceive the raging storm that had engulfed our small vessel in endless whitecaps. Mountainous waves like marching Tolkien oliphaunts raised us to impossible heights before dropping us into troughs that seemed like they'd consume our boat for a snack. No lightning, but stinging rain and seawash lashing us from all sides. A deep rumble vibrated the boat, as if the storm spoke.
I followed Konrad into the cabin, and secured the hatch behind me.
Neither of us spoke. We were soaked. I changed into a dry pair of trunks. Konrad when into the v-berth and closed the door.
I settled onto my berth, electing not to eat.
I had to brace myself against the opposite berth with both legs to not fall from the horrible pitch of the boat. Loud whining noises came from the wind blasting the halyards. I heard the metallic snap of a stanchion. Then terror.
A fearsome scream from the v-berth that rattled the door. A loud thumping, and more screaming. Bloody screams. Terror and pain vibrating louder than the storm itself. Any elation I might have felt from the above-deck tasks of securing the boat were drowned in my abrupt petrification.
Mom, I thought, and whimpered. What's happening in there?
I did not sleep. The storm howled. Konrad raved. I retreated to the cockpit when the sloshing water in the cabin began to turn red from under the v-berth door.
For hours my muscles braced and tired. The boat was smashed by crashing waves, rocked. I had clipped in using the only harness. I wore a rainjacket with hood now. It was warm, but it shielded me from the harsh rain. The autopilot kept the tiller, we stayed hove-to. Alone in watery mountains. If the boat failed none would know. We would simply disappear. My mind raced.
I should be terrified of the storm, I thought. But the screaming pierced both the v-berth door and the closed cabin hatch, and tormented me. I screamed a few times. But it was tiring. Fear is tiring. One moment I knew I'd die drowning, thrown overboard. The next, I'd doze off even in the face of the storm and Konrad's endless screaming.
So tired. I'm so tired. I slept.
Konrad's face was right in front of me. I searched for energy to scream, but had none. My body hurt. I'd slept braced in the small cockpit, sloshed around. He stood on the steps, his torso exposed through the hatch. My eyes hurt from salt water, more when I rubbed them. Though the storm had calmed some, it was still whistling as it whipped pieces of the boat. It was morning, that deep grey early morning. I struggled and kicked, pushing myself as far away from Konrad as possible, my back against the transom, my eyes coming into focus. It was still eerily dark but I could make out that Konrad was holding something. He had on his hoodie and I couldn't seem him clearly.
But he stepped up into the cockpit and then I saw it. His face. He had no eyes, no ears, no lips, no nose. It was a bloody mangled mess of flesh, ripped skin and muscle and bone, stark white in the grey light. A distinct smell permeated the short distance between us--butcher's shop smell. I threw up immediately.
I could see his breath, noted it was cold out as well. He nursed a large object in his arms I couldn't recognize. Looked like a lantern. His pockets were pulled out of his jeans, emptied of whatever had been in there. Blood soaked his hoodie, his jeans. He bled, and the sloshing water turned crimson. I scampered out of it and onto the bench beside the tiller.
I struggle to describe this again, worse than before. His voice. Without lips he sucked air, and in that thick German accent he spoke in a shuddering whisper.
"My worship, I come." His head turned south-southeast, as if he could see. I stayed as far from him as the cockpit space allowed. He took a step in that direction.
"My reliquary," he hissed. Wind snapped the stanchions lightly. The boat rocked. He balanced perfectly. He held up the lantern and repeated, eager this time. "My reliquary for your depths!"
I noticed thick globs of blood dripping rapidly from the lantern. The cockpit water became darker red. I threw up into it again, unable to retain the disgust and fear and pain.
His bloodied and cut hands unlatched the latern and opened it. He began picking things from it, and throwing them into the chop. They disappeared under the surface with a little red splash. They were the pieces of him. I saw him try twice to grip a slimey eye and discard it without a second thought. His nose. His ears.
"My reliquary," he shuddered. Then, drawing breath through blood-caked lipless teeth, he yowled, like a cat's deep lament. "We are for your depths!" He threw his arms out, the lantern crashing into the waves, threw his head back. He stomped up onto the bench and leaned over until gravity pulled him fully overboard and into the ocean. Blood-red splash as he fell in.
Despite my fear I rushed to the side and looked down into the water. We were hove-to and not moving. The storm still raged but I could somehow see the shape of Konrad's body sinking.
This part I don't expect anyone to believe. But I know what I saw. It seemed that an unnatural swell formed and lifted the boat. It was not in rhythm with the marching oliphaunts. I did not see anything, per se. But when Konrad's outline finally disappeared, it was under a great shadow that seemed to sweep across leagues of space. Something was down there, beneath me. Not a shark, not a whale, something else. I knew in that very instant, and I had no words to react--I threw myself down into the cockpit, elbow deep in the rancid bloody water. I sat there, shivering in shock, and didn't move until the storm had stopped and the rancid water had filtered down into the bilge.
Nothing registered. I lived through some untold nightmare. But I was still there, on the boat in the middle of the sea. Somehow my muscles moved and I did things. I pumped the bilge manually. I picked things up from the floor. I kept the v-berth door shut after I glimpsed its horror. My body hurt. My head pounded. I was hungry. The engine was broken. The solar panels pulled no juice. The navigation was fried.
My last resort was the radio. I turned it on to VHF channel 16, and repeated "Mayday" a few times. No answer.
I organized myself enough to cook and eat. I re-set the sails and got underway. Not knowing where I was, I just went north. We had to be close to the Galapagos. Soon I would hear a Spanish accent over the radio, I thought.
A few days later I got my answer.
"Hello," came the voice. They spoke English, no accent that I knew.
"Mayday! I'm a boat, we were in a storm, the captain is gone."
"What are your coordinates?"
"I have no navigation, I don't know. The boat's name is Ree Yeah. We left Puerto Vallarta about two weeks ago, going to Marquesas. I... I need, I don't know I need to get to land."
They were able to locate me. A rescue vessel was dispatched, and found me a day later. When they hauled me aboard I was surprised to find that they were not Ecuadorian at all. Some looked Polynesian, others European.
"Where am I?" I said.
A large woman wrapped a blanket around me.
"We were about to ask you that," she said. "The dispatch said you came from Mexico?"
"Yeah, about two weeks ago."
"Two weeks?" she chuckled, and shared some looks with others of her crew. "That's impossible."
"Where... where am I? Who are you all?"
"We're out of Pitcairn Island my fellow," she said with a smile. "Seems you drifted quite a lot further than you thought! And you probably bumped your head too if you think you're two weeks from Puerto Vallarta."
That's my story.
I was taken to Pitcairn. It's extremely far south. It's 2,800 nautical miles from the Galapagos. It's about 2,000 from Hiva Oa in the Marquesas islands. It's the island furthest from any other landmass on the globe, and I was well south of it. No man's land. What I'm trying to say is that the lady was right: it is impossible that we drifted so far off course. We were hove-to. We shouldn't have been moving at all. We were only a day from the Galapagos, for God's sake. Look at a map and you'll see how insane I must have seemed. Of course they never believed me. They never went aboard the boat because I had to climb a rope ladder onto their ship. They didn't see the horrors Konrad left me.
Worse, there was no record of Ree Yeah at Puerto Vallarta. There was no record of any German captain named Konrad there. I'm still trying to find his family, or anyone that knew him. I can't even get in touch with Wally because we never exchanged information, and he's not on social media. I never learned either of their last names.
That's it. You've made it to the end. It's February 2023. I've lived eight years of my life with nightmares of the ocean. They say you need to confront your fears, so that's what I'm doing. I'm in Puerto Vallarta again. I own my own boat, a cheap boat but it's mine. She's seaworthy. I stocked up not for the Milk Run, but for Pitcairn. I'm going back there. I have to know that what I saw was real; if it is really more than a tale, even if it costs me everything.
In case I go missing I'm leaving my information here.
I'm lifting anchor on March 15th. My boat's name is Redemption. My name is Gavin Red. I'm heading first to the Pearl Islands, then the Galapagos, and then to Pitcairn. From there my destination is 47°9′S 126°43′W. I'm giving myself two months. I'm not taking crew. Don't follow me, for the love of God.
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Original post

I submitted a version of this query a while ago and it achieved some approval. However, I’ve sent out 20 queries and not a nibble. Here, I tried to improve the query (probably making it worse!) and added my first 300 words. Taking an agent’s advice, I’ve decide not to include my short prologue.
Do you think I should use the word "hyperphantasia," or does it complicate things (it's a real condition.) The body of the query is 211 words.
~~
I am seeking representation for my psychological thriller FINDING GRACE (87,000 words), in which a man is blackmailed into avenging the murder of an apparent stranger.
Jack Foster’s hyperphantasia – the ability to visualize anything in 3D glory—earns him the big bucks as a forensic accountant in Hong Kong. After he uncovers a triad money-laundering scheme, the gang’s leader punishes him by murdering his wife, Mara.
When a similar murder in Los Angeles makes the tabloid news, Jack quits his job to track the killer down. While waiting to depart, he’s sent a video depicting Mara being tortured to death. Witnessing her suffering wipes all memory of her death and with it, any plans to investigate. He lands in LA, convinced he’s arrived for a new job and Mara will soon be joining him.
Jack’s repressed desire for revenge, coupled with his hyperphantasia, creates an imaginary femme fatale who blackmails him into continuing the investigation under the ruse her sister was the victim. Jack’s alter ego, Grace, is an immoral killing machine who tortures suspects for information leading to the killer. Together, they skirt the line between reality and fantasy while hunting the leader of a gang whose influence stretches around the world.
Now a psychopathic killer must face his ultimate nightmare—a victim crazier than him. Only Jack’s strength depends on believing Mara is still alive and to avenge her murder, he must first acknowledge her death.
FINDING GRACE plays with the thriller genre like the 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle did with the mystery genre. With its unreliable narrators it should appeal to fans of The Last House on Needless Street or The Quiet Girl by S.F. Kosa. Think Shutter Island meets Fatal Attraction.
I was raised in Malibu, California before Baywatch existed, where I learned to hike, catch reptiles, and surf. I’m now an engineer whose work, though no fault of mine, crashed onto Saturn. I’ve been a photographer for the U.S. Taekwondo Team, who kidnapped me to Tahiti. This is my seventh novel.
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~~First 300~~
Jack was an expert on nightmares, starting with the ones that went bump in his night. He had to be, considering what they were putting him through. Last night’s nightmare had been a bad one. He’d barely dragged himself from bed, brain-fogged and depressed. But after a few cups of coffee, he’d managed to drive to the gym because if he didn’t get out and sweat the fear away, he might go crazy—if he wasn’t already.
His anxiety had started when his flight landed in Los Angeles. A depression so dense it seemed a living blackness was chasing him out of the plane, through security gates, and down long corridors. He’d ridden the airport shuttle to the farthest parking lot and taken an Uber to the flat he’d leased from back in Hong Kong. Rushing inside his new home, he locked the door and inhaled deeply.
At first, he’d thought his wife’s delayed arrival was causing his apprehension. Mara was his everything, his key to the world, her outgoing personality dragging him from his introverted shell. It was only natural to miss her, even though she’d be arriving in a few weeks.
Then in the middle of the night, a suffocating weight had settled on his chest. His eyes flew open, revealing a nightmarish face with piercing blue eyes. One topped with the unruly white hair of a madman. He’d tried to scream and scrabble away but his body wouldn’t respond. Focusing every bit of energy, he twitched a leaden finger. The face vanished. Jack pulled the covers tighter and sobbed until the pillow turned damp. More nightmares followed, always with the same white-haired presence. Black became a hunter, trailing his steps through dark streets and shadowed alleys, lurking in closets and hiding under the bed.
That’s when Jack knew the darkness was caused by more than simple loneliness.

My husband and I will be taking a “once in a lifetime” trip this summer. We are celebrating him finishing many years of schooling/training before moving across the country for his new job! We want to use the time that we will have off and travel somewhere that we likely won’t ever go again.
We are thinking about Fiji, Tahiti, Maldives, and the likes. We want to relax, but also would like to have some activities we can do wherever we go (golf is a major bonus for him). We have also considered Bali.
Budget under $10k and hoping to be able to stay ~7-8 nights somewhere. We also have a lot of American miles that would be great to use to cover some airline costs.
Would love to hear recommendations on where you’ve gone and that you’ve loved!