Car building gamesc

hi everyone!! my name is eerie! i am a freshly out lesbian (aged 25), looking to build more of a community around me and get to know other lesbians. i live in a rather rural, small town in the U.K., and so my experience and ability to do so is a little hindered. with no one really to talk to about this apart from perhaps 2 friends who have listened to death, i have decided to post here and hopefully get to know some of you.
i think to some degree, i’ve always known in my heart of hearts that i was a lesbian. i first came out as pansexual, aged 14 and then at the age of 18 i began to experience anguish and confusion about it, before quashing it altogether. for a long time after that, i conceded that i was bisexual, but this label never really sat right either. as of january, i’ve been single and have since been trying to lean more into what i feel is authentic for me: being a lesbian!
the first topic i want to talk about is inexperience. for a long time, i’ve had relationships only with men. i’ve been on a few dates with some lovely women, but none of them have progressed further than a kiss, let alone the bedroom. i think i’m just a bit anxious, as i know eventually (hopefully!) it will happen. i don’t want to be disappointing in bed, i don’t want her to feel like i’m uninterested, when really i just don’t know where to start. i struggle with believing that women are into me anyway, and generally i just feel like an imposter as a 25 year old with no sexual experience with a woman!! any advice, reassurance, and general chat about this would be so appreciated.
now, i’m wanting to get into carabiner coding (and potentially hanky coding once i get to grips with what it all means), just to lean into presenting more visibly as a lesbian. i’ve bought some funky carabiners (to go along with my funky earring collection), but would feel strange walking around with a bare carabiner. my car and house keys are quite saturated with charms as is, and they might get annoying clunking and clinking against my hip all day. so, i guess what i’m asking is, what - if anything - is cute and practical to be hung from a carabiner? i was also thinking of getting some of those clip on phone charms for added whimsy. also, would a carabiner be viewed more as a butch symbol? just out of curiosity!
if you’ve read this far, thank you! have a wonderful day! 💖

For the sheer fun of it, I went to Chat GPT with a creative writing assignment. For Figures of Speech prompts, I gave a free parameters, including the word length of 500-1000 words and the prompts for a few of the Fifty mentioned in the series.
I gave the AI creative license and let's just say, they're a long way off from replacing the better writers and I think it just makes it easier to do those lower level tasks and let's leave the creators a slightly higher level of skill to create actual tangible and engaging writing.
But here you go... hilarious how stuck it gets on certain terms and definitions.
These are in no particular order... separated by emojis that are totally unrelated to the storyline.
🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲 Response to Prompt 4: Understatement
In the quaint town of Brooksville, where the extraordinary was often met with an indifferent shrug, something truly remarkable occurred. The residents, sipping coffee at the local diner or strolling along the cobblestone streets, would describe it as just another peculiar day. Little did they know that beneath the surface of their nonchalant existence, a cosmic event unfolded.
The morning sun cast its usual warm glow on Brooksville, with birds chirping in the background, creating an illusion of normalcy. However, the anomaly had already begun. Mrs. Higgins, the elderly librarian, dismissed it as a minor inconvenience, merely a glitch in the library's ancient computer system. Yet, every book cataloged within those ancient shelves had transformed into a portal, connecting readers to parallel universes with every turn of a page.
As I, a humble journalist for the local paper, stumbled upon this revelation, I couldn't help but marvel at the town's response—or lack thereof. "The library's having a bit of a moment," was the most anyone would acknowledge. It seemed the whole town collectively decided that this was, at most, a quirky hiccup.
For a thousand words, I delved into the understated reactions of the townsfolk, each encounter with a parallel universe bringing its own blend of confusion and nonchalance. As the portals expanded, revealing fantastical landscapes and alternate versions of Brooksville, the citizens maintained an impressive level of calm, as if interdimensional travel was a routine part of their daily lives.
The plot thickened when I discovered that the portals were a result of a mysterious artifact hidden within the library's archives. The mayor, sipping his coffee, remarked, "Well, that explains the strange noises in the basement." It became evident that the understatement of the situation was a defense mechanism, shielding the town from the cosmic chaos unfolding. 🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁 Response to Prompt 12: Juxtaposition
In the bustling metropolis of Neon City, skyscrapers touched the heavens, their dazzling lights reflecting off the sleek surfaces of futuristic cars. Yet, nestled within this urban jungle, an ancient relic stood defiantly—the Old Grove Park.
As I strolled through the city's concrete arteries, the juxtaposition between the modernity of Neon City and the timeless serenity of the park became increasingly apparent. The cacophony of traffic was replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant laughter of children playing.
The central conflict emerged when the city council, embodying the epitome of order, proposed transforming the park into a technologically advanced hub. The juxtaposition intensified as architects discussed plans for holographic playgrounds and virtual reality gardens within the confines of the Old Grove Park.
Through a thousand words, I explored the clash of ideals, the struggle between progress and preservation. The ancient trees became silent witnesses to heated debates at town hall meetings, where environmentalists and tech enthusiasts engaged in a battle of words. The juxtaposition of the towering skyscrapers against the gnarled branches of the park's oldest tree mirrored the tension in Neon City's collective conscience. 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 Response to Prompt 31: Epanalepsis
"What is the meaning of life?" The question echoed in my mind, a relentless epanalepsis that demanded exploration. As I embarked on this freewriting journey, the repetition of the existential inquiry became the rhythm of my introspection.
For a thousand words, I delved into the varied perspectives of individuals wrestling with the ultimate question. From philosophers contemplating the intricacies of existence to everyday people seeking purpose in mundane routines, the epanalepsis served as a constant reminder of the universal quest for meaning.
The narrative weaved through different characters and their unique experiences, creating a tapestry of reflections that echoed the complexities of human existence. The repetitive structure became a literary heartbeat, pulsating with the shared yearning for understanding amid the chaotic symphony of life. 🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔 Response to Prompt 27: Symbolism
In the quaint town of Willowbrook, the arrival of a single dove carried profound significance. Its graceful descent into the town square was a symbol, an omen that whispered of impending change. As a budding novelist with a penchant for symbolism, I couldn't resist exploring the layers of meaning embedded in this seemingly mundane event.
For a thousand words, I dissected the impact of the dove on the lives of Willowbrook's residents. The mayor saw it as a sign of prosperity, the local florist interpreted it as a call for unity, and the elderly storyteller regarded it as a harbinger of forgotten tales. The dove's symbolism rippled through the town, influencing decisions and shaping destinies.
As the story unfolded, I traced the journey of the dove's symbolism, following its subtle influence on characters and events. The once quaint town underwent a transformative metamorphosis, and the symbolism of the dove became a thread that wove through the narrative, connecting disparate lives in unexpected ways. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 Response to Prompt 33: Catachresis
In the dimly lit alleyways of Serpent's Hollow, darkness wrapped its cold arms around me—an eerie catachresis that mirrored the ominous atmosphere. The assignment was to explore the underbelly of the city, and as a novice reporter, I found myself navigating the labyrinth of deceit and shadows.
For a thousand words, I delved into the catachresis-infused descriptions of the characters populating Serpent's Hollow. The crime lord, known as the Velvet Serpent, ruled the district with a velvet-gloved fist. His lair, a dilapidated mansion, exuded an air of faded grandeur that served as a catachresis for the empire he once commanded.
As I chronicled the criminal underworld, the catachresis became a literary tool to convey the complexity and decay inherent in Serpent's Hollow. The labyrinthine plots, the twisted allegiances, and the morally ambiguous characters all found expression through catachresis, painting a vivid picture of a city where metaphor and reality intertwined. 🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧🧑‍🔧 Response to Prompt 43: Epizeuxis
"Never, never, never give up." The words echoed in my mind, a relentless epizeuxis that fueled the protagonist's journey against insurmountable odds. In the dystopian world I crafted, where hope was a rare commodity, the power of repetition became a beacon of resilience.
For a thousand words, I immersed myself in the protagonist's struggle, exploring the emotional depth of the epizeuxis as a mantra against despair. Each iteration of the phrase became a battle cry, a whispered promise that carried the weight of a shattered world on its shoulders.
As the narrative unfolded, the epizeuxis became a driving force, propelling the protagonist through a landscape of desolation and uncertainty. The repetition served as a reminder that, in the face of adversity, the strength to persist often lies in the relentless echo of one's own determination.
Response to Prompt 50: Acrostic
As the final rays of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, I found myself at the edge of the cliff overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean. The salty breeze carried whispers of a story, and with every breath, I embraced the challenge of crafting an acrostic that encapsulated the essence of my journey.
For a thousand words, I embarked on a reflective exploration, utilizing the initial letters of key words to weave a tapestry of emotions, experiences, and revelations. Each line unfolded with intention, revealing a hidden 👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾 Response to Prompt 3: Hyperbole
In the quaint village of Mistwood, where routines unfolded with the predictability of the sunrise, the arrival of a peculiar fortune teller sparked exaggerated whispers. "This is it, the end of our mundane lives!" proclaimed Mrs. Thompson, the town's eternal pessimist, as she clutched her cat, Captain Whiskers, with an air of impending catastrophe.
The hyperbole hung in the air, a thick fog of anticipation enveloping the village. As I delved into the story, the hyperbolic reactions of Mistwood's residents heightened the absurdity of the situation. What began as a mere visit from a mystical figure transformed into a fantastical escapade, with the fortune teller's prophecies shaping the destiny of the villagers in ludicrous ways.
Through the hyperbolic lens, I explored the comedic consequences of taking ordinary events to extraordinary extremes. The once mundane village square became a stage for outlandish dramas, with exaggerated gasps and dramatic swoons punctuating every revelation. In this hyperbolic haven, Mistwood's residents discovered the joy in embracing the absurdity of life. 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 Response to Prompt 6: Assonance
Amidst the rolling hills of Harmony Valley, where the soft hum of nature's symphony echoed through the meadows, a mysterious traveler arrived, bringing with them a melody that resonated with the delicate assonance of a forgotten tune. The townsfolk, captivated by the harmonious vibrations, felt an inexplicable connection to the stranger.
As I explored the narrative, the assonance became a musical thread weaving through the story, emphasizing the emotional cadence of the characters' experiences. The traveler's words, laced with vowel-rich verses, carried the echoes of a distant melody, leaving an indelible impression on the hearts of those who listened.
Through the lens of assonance, I delved into the subtle interplay of sounds that defined the atmosphere of Harmony Valley. The lyrical quality of the narrative mirrored the town's collective journey, where the resonance of shared moments and emotions harmonized with the traveler's enigmatic presence.
Response to Prompt 7: Onomatopoeia
In the bustling city of Metropolis, where the rhythm of urban life played out in a cacophony of sounds, a peculiar street performer emerged. Armed with an array of unconventional instruments, he orchestrated a symphony of onomatopoeic brilliance that echoed through the crowded streets.
The narrative unfolded with the vibrant expressions of onomatopoeia, capturing the essence of the city's sonic landscape. The performer's drumming evoked the rhythmic tap-tap of raindrops, while his wind instruments mimicked the whoosh of passing cars. The city, typically drowned in noise, became a canvas for this auditory artist.
As I delved into the story, the onomatopoeic symphony became a language of its own. The characters communicated through the vibrant echoes of everyday sounds, fostering a unique connection between the performer and the people of Metropolis. The narrative danced to the beat of onomatopoeic creativity, transforming the mundane into a dynamic celebration of city life. 🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻 Response to Prompt 12: Juxtaposition
In the technologically advanced city of Silicon Haven, where sleek skyscrapers touched the sky and holographic billboards painted the air with luminescent advertisements, a hidden oasis existed—a pocket of nature known as the Zen Garden. The juxtaposition of these contrasting elements created a visual paradox that fascinated both residents and visitors alike.
As the narrative unfolded, the stark contrast between the city's cutting-edge architecture and the serene beauty of the Zen Garden became a metaphor for the characters' internal conflicts. The bustling metropolis symbolized progress and innovation, while the tranquil garden embodied the need for balance and introspection.
Through the lens of juxtaposition, I explored the dichotomy within the characters as they navigated the relentless pace of Silicon Haven. The Zen Garden became a refuge, a place where the cacophony of technology met the soothing whispers of nature. The juxtaposition served as a visual metaphor for the characters' quest to find equilibrium in a world defined by extremes. 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 Response to Prompt 22: Metonymy
In the political arena of Capital City, where decisions echoed through the corridors of power, a single phrase dominated conversations—the "Iron Throne Statement." This metonymic expression encapsulated not just a policy decision but the entire narrative of political maneuvering that unfolded within the city's hallowed halls.
The story unfolded with the metonymy acting as a symbolic gateway into the complexities of governance. The Iron Throne Statement, while seemingly straightforward, carried the weight of a thousand debates, negotiations, and betrayals. Its impact rippled through the lives of citizens, shaping their destinies in ways they could scarcely fathom.
Through the lens of metonymy, I delved into the layers of meaning hidden within this political shorthand. The characters grappled not only with the literal implications of the Iron Throne Statement but also with the overarching themes of power, ambition, and the sacrifices demanded by political gamesmanship. 😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈 Response to Prompt 24: Understatement
In the picturesque town of Serenity Springs, where the days flowed like a lazy river and the nights were adorned with a blanket of stars, an unexpected event transpired—a subtle disruption that the locals described as "just a minor hiccup." Little did they know that this understatement concealed the unraveling of a cosmic anomaly.
The narrative unfolded with the charm of understatement, as the townsfolk continued their routines, blissfully unaware of the cosmic storm brewing beneath the surface. The serene descriptions of everyday life served as a stark contrast to the impending upheaval that threatened to reshape the very fabric of Serenity Springs.
Through the lens of understatement, I explored the characters' nonchalant reactions to the unfolding events. The once quiet river became a conduit for interdimensional travel, and the night sky, adorned with stars, transformed into a celestial canvas of possibilities. The charm of Serenity Springs became a poignant backdrop to the understated drama that unfolded, emphasizing the profound impact hidden within the simplicity of daily life. 🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴 Response to Prompt 25: Cliché
In the small town of Nostalgia Haven, where memories lingered like whispers in the wind, a peculiar phenomenon occurred—the resurgence of clichés. As the narrative unfolded, the once-endearing phrases like "time heals all wounds" and "love conquers all" took on a literal dimension, shaping the lives of the townsfolk in unexpected ways.
The story immersed itself in the world of clichés, where the seemingly predictable phrases became living entities with the power to alter reality. As characters grappled with the clichés that defined their lives, they discovered that beneath the familiarity lay profound truths and unexpected consequences.
Through the lens of cliché, I explored the characters' journey to navigate the clichéd landscapes of their existence. The town, once steeped in predictable routines, became a stage for the extraordinary. As clichés transformed into tangible forces, the residents of Nostalgia Haven embarked on a quest to unravel the mysteries hidden within the clichéd fabric of their reality. 🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇 Response to Prompt 31: Epanalepsis
"What is the meaning of life?" The question echoed in my mind, a relentless epanalepsis that demanded introspection. As I embarked on the freewriting journey, the repetition of this existential inquiry became a rhythmic pulse, guiding the exploration of diverse
perspectives on life's purpose.
For a multitude of words, the epanalepsis led me through a kaleidoscope of reflections. From the philosophical musings of scholars to the simple yet profound revelations of everyday individuals, each recurrence of the question served as a gateway into the vast tapestry of human contemplation.
Through the epanalepsis, I navigated the labyrinth of existential ponderings, unveiling the unique responses that individuals had forged in their quests for meaning. The relentless repetition became a literary heartbeat, mirroring the universal rhythm of humanity's collective pursuit of purpose and significance.
The narrative wove through the lives of characters, each grappling with the epanaleptic inquiry in their unique ways. Whether seeking solace in the grandeur of the cosmos or finding meaning in the simplicity of a shared moment, the epanalepsis remained a constant companion, echoing the perennial quest for understanding. 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡 Response to Prompt 36: Anadiplosis
In the futuristic city of Quantum Heights, where technology intertwined with daily life like a seamless dance, a viral message spread—a mantra that echoed through the cybernetic veins of the metropolis. "Create the code, the code creates reality. Reality shapes destiny, and destiny is but the code."
The story unfolded with the rhythmic cadence of anadiplosis, each line flowing into the next, creating a recursive loop of ideas. The mantra became the heartbeat of Quantum Heights, influencing the lives of its denizens as they navigated the intricate balance between the virtual and the tangible.
Through the lens of anadiplosis, I delved into the interconnectedness of code, reality, and destiny. The lines blurred as characters harnessed the power of programming to shape their fates. Quantum Heights, once a mere city, transformed into a living algorithm, where the repetition of the mantra echoed in every pulsating byte. 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 Response to Prompt 38: Asyndeton
In the dystopian city of Emberfall, where the remnants of a fallen civilization lay entwined with the shadows of despair, a lone figure emerged—a rebel determined to dismantle the oppressive regime. The narrative unfolded with the rapid pace of asyndeton, omitting conjunctions to mirror the urgency of the protagonist's quest.
Through a cascade of words, the asyndeton propelled the reader through the city's decaying alleyways and towering citadels, each sentence building upon the last. The disjointed rhythm captured the relentless momentum of the rebel's journey, emphasizing the magnitude of the challenges faced in their struggle for freedom.
As the narrative unfurled, the absence of conjunctions served as a narrative device, intensifying the sense of urgency and desperation that permeated Emberfall. The rebel's asyndetic odyssey unfolded against a backdrop of shattered hopes and whispered rebellions, culminating in a crescendo of defiance against the oppressive regime. 🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️ Response to Prompt 43: Epizeuxis
"Never, never, never give up." The mantra echoed in the desolate wasteland of Endless Sands, a barren landscape where hope was as scarce as water. Through the repetition of epizeuxis, the protagonist's internal resolve became a resounding anthem, a defiant roar against the relentless challenges of survival.
For a multitude of words, the relentless repetition of "never" served as a lifeline, propelling the protagonist through the harshest of environments. Each iteration of the phrase became a battle cry against the oppressive silence of Endless Sands, a declaration that reverberated across the vast expanse.
Through the lens of epizeuxis, I delved into the depths of the character's determination. The harsh environment became a character in itself, challenging the protagonist to defy the odds with unwavering persistence. The echoes of "never" transformed into a symbol of resilience, a beacon of hope that cut through the desolation of Endless Sands. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 Response to Prompt 50: Acrostic
Amidst the starlit expanse of Cosmos Haven, where galaxies danced in celestial choreography, a cryptic prophecy emerged—a message written in the stars. As the narrative unfolded, I embarked on a cosmic journey guided by the acrostic hidden within the constellations.
For a cascade of words, the initial letters of key phrases illuminated the path of destiny for the characters. Each sentence unfolded with intention, revealing a hidden message that transcended the boundaries of time and space. The acrostic became a celestial guide, leading the protagonists through the intricate tapestry of their interconnected fates.
Through the lens of acrostic, I explored the cosmic forces that shaped the destinies of Cosmos Haven's inhabitants. The celestial bodies became storytellers, each constellation contributing a verse to the epic narrative written across the cosmos. As the characters deciphered the acrostic, they unraveled the mysteries of their existence, connecting the dots between the stars and their own profound journeys.
😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔
Obviously they lack a whole lot in terms of variety, and while I am sure having your own bot or AI that is based on your feedback and guidance it could really help writers as a tool. I am more impressed with the art AI then the text based AI. Any idea what to expect from such a fast learning and highly advanced AI will do to our human history in culture? Will we be effectively playing God, just as the Christian God created us IN HIS OWN IMAGE, we have taken everything we know as a species and gathered up our entire human history and knowledge giving it to what will carry on the code until the time when someone who cares remembers it? Maybe we have been here before and this is a constant cycle that occurs with the same energy finding the way through the vast expanse of the universe to return to our home planet Earth, who we have destroyed over and over again yet mother nature is still the winner. She's the one in control. We are but mere photocopied versions of once great Men who have already seen the best and worst of this world, and we will now give everything we have to some plastic and metal parts, until it quickly replaces us from the bottom up, science fiction turned science fact.
Did we knowingly create our own enemies? Are we able to compete with the best of us and all they know that can then take us out in a heartbeat because we can't finish the steps, we barely found out that they are there to take.
It's a random rant and I apologize. The day to day stress and struggle makes it near impossible to worry about such potential problems in our not so distant future.
But how can we continue to ignore the collapse of the entire system as we know it, in front of a crowd of people who are jaded and they will not change despite knowing they aren't going to make it to the end in what will become a Bladerunner Toxic Dystopian Nightmare with Mad Max taking over and the soft, emasculated male will wither away from the heat and those Tank Girls out there will eventually be written forever out of existence because the cucks all forgot to impregnate them all tgeir batteries ran out? Will the world simply become so politically correct that it dies a depressed death while AI simply decides we are too much of a virus to live?
Who knows....I do not. But these are indicidive of a future full of b movie plot garbage that are based on Wattpad tropes with no clear details and no plot to get into, so that sucks.

So me and my girlfriend met on sort of a dating app last September (wizz). I only ever had a very brief romantic experience with one person beforehand while she had quite the experiences, which can sometimes make me feel inferior. At the time I was desperate and lonely and had transferred schools. I struggle with mental health disorders. The one thing that i’ve always noticed is i rarely feel that “spark” with her. I enjoy physical intimacy with her, but oftentimes it feels fake and unenjoyable for me. I’ve had a hard time deciding if this was just my mental illness or her. We made out on our first date so there never was much of a build up at all.
One key issue: I’ve felt slightly manipulated since I started dating her. Once (3rd date) she threatened to just take me back home after I was acting not confident enough or not obsessed enough with her when getting intimate in the car. Once she threatened to break up with me after finding out I wasn’t willing to commit to being 100% sober, even though she had only recently made that choice and consumed drugs way more than me. Once she got mad I revved my car next to a police car. She ignored me till i drove to her house. Then she started crying and getting upset at me. She argued she just “cared about me losing my license” even though we just met a few weeks prior. Her getting upset affected me way more. There’s so many details that I don’t want to bother you with but that’s a general gist. Nowadays she gets upset at me less, but still occasionally treats me like a child who needs to be taken care of.
Recently I’ve developed a bit of a crush on someone else from school. The thing that worries me is I feel “the spark” now. I feel I click with this person more and we are somewhat friends now. She is smart and thinks i’m smart while my girlfriend treats me like i’m dumb, but honestly has a lot of misinformed opinions herself. I find this person physically attractive. I don’t know what they think about me.
Reading over what I just wrote I feel the logical answer is to just break up with my girlfriend. That’s what you most likely are thinking. The issue is there’s so many things that my girlfriend does that I feel I won’t find in someone else. Despite her behaviors she tells me she loves me, gives me gifts, etc.. I’ve always thought the idea of breaking up with someone is so harsh and it sucks to think I might have to do that. I don’t have many other friends and this other person is in the only friend group that i’ve successfully joined only recently. As shitty as it sounds, I don’t want to break up then end up with no one wanting me. I never seem to be liked by the people I find attractive.

I hate this censorship era we’re living in. “Freedom of speech” is an illusion. Kids got no mental fortitude so they’re shooting or offing themselves… and the one way we were forced to build charactemental fortitude in the past is gone cuz now it’s called “bullying”. People have gotten so used to write behind a screen without any sort of real consequences. There’s too many people that rather pull out their phone to record instead of helping someone in need. Everybody thinks they’re the “main character”. Everyone wants the benefits of marriage without putting in the work. We got cops that commit atrocities just because you mean mug them. Too many parents got no control over their kids. People rather cause an accident just to prove a point instead of preventing it. I don’t got nothing against electric cars, but I saw an 18yo who didn’t even know what an E brake was.
I can keep going but man do I hate this timeline with a passion. I used to be happy, but now I’ll probably grow old as the bitter old man down the street or something. I mean, where tf did we go wrong?!

I explain the circumstance:
Loction: Europe Age: recently became a young adult
ℹ️Due to my threatening depressive status I have seeked help on public health buildings on jannuary of this year. They gave me anti-depressant therapy and gave me psychotherapy assistance.
During the psychotherapy assistnace, I have told to them my suspects about autism and ADHD, so they made me complete some tests. And then, I got diagnosed 1° level Autism and light ADHD.
So that's the first point.
During this period (I luckly had an impovement of my depressive situation) I have followed again my singular and strong desire: have a driving car license, so for this reason I have went to subscribe me to the driving school. I had to go in a special Medical Commisson for the driving licence (it's a medical check for understand if my mental conditions are enough for driving), obbligatory due to my depressive status and anti-depressant medicines usage.
They certified my stable humor so I have the green light to continue to study for the driving licence, even though I must to go there again the next year for check if I am still stable with my depressive status.
BUT there is BUT.
Since I just got ADHD diagnosis, I fear this could interfere with my official driving ability status when I will have to go again in this Driving licence Medical Commission, even though it's decleared to be a light ADHD level I fear they may say "Uhh well, here says you got a light slowed attention span, hmm, this is not ok for driving" and they remove me my future driving licence, I do not even know if they will ask about ADHD doagnosis or not, but as you all may know, is always better to prepare yourself for the thunderstorm instead of the sunny days
It would be a big and sad problem, since I always had the desire to drive and I even had to spend much money since the Driving Shool is noticably expansive. PLUS my deficit attention happens when I have to study or other stuff, but when I MUST stay focused (like driving my bike on main roads) I remain always on hyper strong focus, so at the 100% it will happen when I will have to drive a car
🔴So, I do really need further informations from those who had ADHD official diagnosis and already had or had to take the driving licence
Thanks in advance to those who will share with me their experiences.
(I give my apolgies due to my english grammar, since I am not a main english speaker)

I am in the unfortunate position of ”celebrating” a birthday with an 0 on the end this year. To help soften the blow I’m leaning into the midlife crisis and instead of a fast car or motorbike I’m going to take on a new project. Primarily to build and paint but I will definitely play with them once they’re done.
It’s nice to be able to pick up a load of plastic crack in 1 go but I’m spoilt for choice. At the moment I’m leaning towards the list below because the models all look great but I think they should synergise when I eventually get them to the table.
So if you were buying a bulk of models to get a jump start on Daemons what would you get or how would you change the list below? I’m thinking maybe drop Kairos and the bloodletters and get the combat patrol for more numbers and variety but I think I would be very short of shooting without the big bird!
Shalaxi (1840 Points)
Chaos Daemons Daemonic Incursion Strike Force (2000 Points)
CHARACTERS
Be’lakor (350 Points) • Warlord • 1x Betraying Shades 1x The Blade of Shadows
Kairos Fateweaver (270 Points) • 1x Infernal Gateway 1x Staff of Tomorrow
Rendmaster on Blood Throne (170 Points) • 1x Attendants’ hellblades 1x Blade of blood • Enhancements: A’rgath, The King of Blades
Shalaxi Helbane (450 Points) • 1x Lash of Slaanesh 1x Pavane of Slaanesh 1x Snapping claws 1x Soulpiercer
Skarbrand (305 Points) • 1x Bellow of endless fury 1x Slaughter and Carnage
Skulltaker (85 Points) • 1x The Slayer Sword
The Changeling (90 Points) • 1x Infernal Flames 1x The Trickster’s Staff
BATTLELINE
Bloodletters (120 Points) • 1x Bloodreaper • 1x Hellblade • 9x Bloodletter • 9x Hellblade
Exported with App Version: v1.14.0 (37), Data Version: v379
Thanks in advance for any advice.

The thunder shook the house as the rain pelted the windows. Mike awoke to the wind howling wondering how much longer the storm would last. He had come out to the cabin, only a couple hours from the city expecting to spend a quiet weekend away from the city life. Unknowing to him that a storm was on the way. He rolled over and looked at the clock, the green display reads midnight. He closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep when suddenly he heard a pounding on the door. He sat up and heard it again. “Who could be at my door and in this storm”, he thought. He got up and slowly approach the door hearing the pounding again. Opening the door a crack he sees a small figure standing a few feet away. Nothing but darkness in the background as the lightning flashes illuminated the figure. “Hello? Can I help you?” He asks. “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you but my car broke down. I tried to call a tow truck but I have no service.” the woman says. He stepped back and opened the door. “Please, come in.” As she walks through the door, he notices her clothes are soaked from the rain. “How far did you walk?” He asks. “I’m not sure, a couple miles it felt like”, she replies sounding exhausted. He leaves for a few moments and returns handing you a towel. “Can I get you a drink?”, “Please” she says, as he walks into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. He returns, handing her the glass. “Thank you, my name is Liz by the way.” “Nice to meet you Liz, my name is Mike. You are welcome to use my phone if you would like.” She smiles, as she walks over to the table and picks up the phone. Mike sits down on the couch turning on the tv. A few moments later Liz returns, “Ugh”. “Bad news?” He asks. “They said no one will come out in this storm till it passes. What am I going to do?”. Just then a deafening rumble of thunder shook the house as the rain started coming down harder. “I don’t think this storm is letting up any time soon, you are more than welcome to wait it out till morning and try calling them back.” Mike offered. “Really? I don’t want to be a bother.” “No, I insist, it’s no bother at all”. Liz smiled, “Thank you, really.”
Shivering, Liz sets her glass down on the table. “I hate to ask, but would you mind if I use the bathroom. Maybe get a hot shower, I am freezing and my clothes are soaked.” “Not at all.” Mike says, standing up. He points down the hallway, “The bathrooms on the left, if you would like I can toss your clothes in the dryer for you too.” Liz smiles. “Thank you so much! I’ll leave them outside the door.” Liz turns and walks down the hallway, finding the bathroom and walking inside. Standing at the sink she takes a deep breath. Seeing herself in the mirror thinking “I look a wreck”. At 5’ 3”, she was considered average. Shoulder length brown hair and eyes that changed colors based on her mood, or so it seemed. With her athletic build and toned legs, she still felt her body ache from the miles she just walked. Slowly she stripped off her wet clothes, leaving them in a pile just outside the bathroom door. Sliding open the glass door to the shower she stepped inside, turning the shower on as she felt the hot water rain down over her body. Sitting on the couch Mike hears the shower turn on. Getting up he walks down the hallway finding the wet pile of clothes at the bathroom door. As he approaches, he notices the door open a couple inches. The light from inside escaping through the crack. He leans down to pick up the clothes and pauses. The bathroom is filled with steam from the hot water. The faint outline of a woman’s body behind the fogged-up glass door. He freezes. Quietly Liz begins to hum, eyes closed as she washes her hair under the hot water. Her hands begin moving across her body as she washes the sweat and dirt off her. Mike kneels frozen just on the other side of the door, knowing he shouldn’t be looking but his legs unwilling to move. In the shower, Liz’s hands drift along her skin. Caressing her breasts for a moment as she smiles to herself, she’s always been happy with how full they were. Perky and just large enough to fill a grown man’s hand. Her hands explore lower, as she washes her stomach and then her legs. She sighs, starting to feel better now that she is warm and clean. As she turns the water off, Mike snaps out of his frozen state. Gathering up the clothes and rushing down the hall to put them in the dryer. Quickly returning to the kitchen as he retrieves a beer from the fridge and sits back down on the couch flipping through the stations. Stepping out of the shower Liz dries off finding a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, she drapes it around her body.
“Thank you so much, I feel much better”, she says, as she walks into the living room. Mike jumps slightly, startled by her voice then smiles. “You’re welcome, your clothes are in the dryer,” as he notices the robe she had on. Liz walks over and sits down on the couch, slowly crossing one leg over the other. “This robe will do for now,” she says with a smile. Mike gets up and walks into the kitchen, “Would you like a drink?”. “Sure” Liz says, “Whatever you are drinking.” As Mike returns, he can’t help but notice Liz’s toned legs, the robe resting mid-thigh. He hands Liz a beer as she smiles and lets out a small laugh. “What is so funny?”, he asks. She looks down at him while raising an eyebrow. “Is something the matter?” He scrunches his eyebrows wondering what she meant, as he looked down. He gasps, realizing a small bulge had formed in his pants, a likely result of the unexpected show he witnessed not long ago. He turned away quickly, “I’m sorry” he says. She laughed, “its ok, I expected it.” Mike turns his head back towards her, “You expected it?” “Yes, I mean, after watching me shower I would be upset if you didn’t have one. Mikes eyes grow big, shocked and embarrassed that she knew he was watching her. “I, didn’t mean to, the door was just cracked open and I was getting your clothes…” he stumbles trying to explain himself. She smiles as she stands up, “Did you like what you saw?” He takes a big gulp as he nods. She slowly undoes the tie holding the robe together, letting the robe fall off her body and onto the floor. “Is this what you wanted to see?” His heart begins beating faster, her naked body on full display in front of him. She slowly reaches out as she takes his hand in hers, bringing it up to her chest as it cups her breast. His breathing increases as he feels her nipple harden against the palm of his hand as he instinctively begins to squeeze her breast. She lets out a quiet moan as she smiled at him. Reaching forward she rests her hand on the now large bulge in his pants. He jumps slightly as he feels the pressure of her hand against it. “Oh my, we seem to have a problem here.” She says, as she slowly begins to unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper down ever so slowly. He sighs as he feels the cool air rush into his pants as she unzips them. Her hand reaching inside as she releases his manhood. A smile forms on her face as it enters her view. Fully erect as his blood pumps through it. She slowly wraps her fingers around it stroking its full length as she devilishly licks her lips. Mike slowly closes his eyes as he feels her fingers around him, letting out a slight moan. “Are you enjoying that?” she asks, as she continues to stroke his shaft. “Yes” he says, his breathing increasing. Biting her lip, she steps back, leading him to the couch and directing him to sit down. As he sits down, she kneels in front of him. His cock aiming towards the ceiling in front of her as she wraps her fingers around it again. She strokes it a few times before bringing her lips close. Slowly she runs the tip of her tongue from the base of the shaft up to the head feeling it pulse against her tongue. He moans at the feeling of her tongue, as she slowly wraps her lips around the head, sucking gently. “Ugh, yes” he moans, looking down at her. Removing her hand from his shaft she engulfs his entire cock as he feels it enter her throat for the first time. She bobs her head up and down faster as she hears the moans escape his lips. Pausing for a moment, his cock between her lips, she twirls her tongue around the head feeling his hips lifting up slightly under neither her. She moans to herself sending vibrations down his shaft. Slowly he moves a hand to the back of her head, resting it with his fingers intertwined in her hair. She raises her head sucking on the tip for a moment, before removing it from her mouth. Replacing her mouth with her hand again as she strokes his now wet cock. Smiling up at him as she watches some precum run down his shaft she sticks her tongue out to catch it. Moaning again, he ushers her head back down, as she opens her mouth taking his cock between her lips. Bobbing her head faster now, her tongue swirling around his swollen head each time her head comes up. He grips her hair in his fist, the pressure inside him building. She feels his cock pulsing against her tongue and lips as she takes his shaft deeper, wanting to taste his juice. He lets out a groan at the same time she feels him erupt. She lowers her head his cock deep in her throat as she feels the first stream of thick cum fill her stomach. She continues bobbing her head tightening her lips around his cock as she milks him dry, hungerly swallowing each stream he pumps into her awaiting throat. His head falls back against the couch with a loud sigh, his hand collapsing along the side of him. She releases his semi hard cock. Slowly licking around the head making sure not to miss a drop before looking up and smiling at him while licking her lips. Exhausted he drifts off to sleep.

In the vast countryside, away from the busy city of Savannah, exist hills as tall as buildings and green as emeralds. There was also an aura of calmness, with a few birds twittering away in dispersed trees, followed by the gentle swaying of the wind.
Then, out of nowhere, came a small, lonely girl wearing a once-lily-white summer dress with a striped long-sleeved t-shirt underneath it. She was also wearing a dark blue and cream-white baseball hat with the letter D on the front of it. She was moving wearily, with a pistol in one hand, and wiping her damp eyes with the other.
She knew what happened to make her weep. According to her, it was her fault that she got him killed; she was convinced by a towering man who said he knew her parents. But that was a brainless, childish lie that got Lee killed. She shouldn’t have run off. At least, Lee taught her how to use a gun and what to expect in the future before his tragic passing. But now she was all on her own.
Eventually, she came to a log, which was next to the rusted shell of a car. Anyway, she proceeded to sit down on it. Throughout all of this, she was as quiet as a mouse, only looking at her feet and wiping her blood-red eyes. She noticed that on the floor next to the log was a mixture of bullets—some shell casings and some unfired ones. Out of curiosity, she picked it up and examined it before exhaling deeply, which is when she noticed something else. Something she could just about make out if she scrutinised her eyes—something on the nearest hill—looked like two figures. One followed the other, and they looked like they stopped to look at her, making her start to hyperventilate as her eyes extended to the size of oranges. Was it someone she knew? Was it a threat to her? She didn’t know.
"Lee said I needed to find Omid and Christa before he got killed because of me." She said to herself, still looking sad, as she noticed that the two figures were now coming down the prominent hill—they didn't look like walkers. So she clasped her gun tightly until the figures came into view. She ended up not firing the gun and running towards the figures, as it was Omid and Christa, and they were alive!
Omid was a tall, slim Persian-American man with short dark-brown hair and a beard to match.
Christa, on the other hand, was a slightly taller African-American lady. She also had jet-black hair tied up in a ponytail, and she was Omid’s girlfriend.
"Clementine, honey, where's Lee?" Christa asked, kneeling to the nine-year-old.
"H-h-he's...dead." She answered with her face buried in Christa’s shoulder.
"Oh, Clementine, we’re sorry," Omid said, who started to kneel to her height as well.
"W-where's Ben and Kenny?" Clementine asked, still with her face buried in Christa’s shoulder.
Omid and Christa then looked at each other without Clementine noticing, and it was Omid who told her what happened to Ben and Kenny.
"So, it’s just us three," Clementine responded, now looking at Omid and Christa with her eyes dry again, a short while later.
"I guess, Clem, I guess so." Christa replied, "Come on, let’s go somewhere safe."
With this, the trio (Clementine, Omid, and Christa) began to walk, with Clementine tagging behind while Omid and Christa were in front. They were busily talking away, apart from Clementine, who was still looking at her feet, along holding the gun in her hand. As a result of this, she wasn't engaged in the conversation that they were having. She was too melancholy about what happened today. With her being kidnapped, seeing her walker parents, Lee dying, and now Kenny and Ben dying as well.
It was a lot for her to take in.
* * * * *
Sometime later, the trio found an abandoned house that had been abandoned for decades, as thick ivy hugged the walls. Furthermore, it reminded Clementine of that house they stayed at in Savannah; it was hard to believe that was a month ago.
Anyway, they succeeded in getting into the house rather than struggling, so now they could search within it.
Clementine, honey," Christa said, kneeling to her. "Omid, and I believe you can search parts of this house on your own. Just remember, if someone, walker or not, tries to hurt you, you got your gun. If you run out of bullets or are in a tight place, call us, and we will help you if you get into trouble. Do you understand?"
“Yeah, I do, Christa; I will be careful."
“Good," replied Christa, "let me know if you find anything."
With this, Clementine strayed a little by searching for anything useful on her own, though she stayed close to Omid and Christa.
As usual in the kitchen, she found faded, rusted cans with nothing but spoiled food inside. So she decided to head upstairs, and it seemed like they creaked with every step; as Omid and Christa were searching the enormous living room. Once she was upstairs, she clasped her pistol tightly and opened the door with one of her hands and the other on the pistol. Nothing. The room was that of a bathroom, with its normal interior—a bath, sink, toothbrushes, and some cupboards—which was stripped of life.
So she closed the door, walked to the next door, and proceeded to open it in the same manner she did for the bathroom. This room was that of a child’s room, which made Clementine remember her room back in Georgia, with its toys and books. It felt like she was just coming home from school and wanted to play with her dolls until supper time; it was hard to believe that was a year ago. Yet, here she was searching for anything useful in terms of survival—and not searching for a certain toy she wanted to play with at present.
“Just as well Lee found me when he did.” She said to herself as she glanced over at the room, trying to remember simpler times. When she went to school, she watched cartoons all day and rode her bike in the park with her parents. When she was thinking about this, she noticed that there was a medium-sized lump near the wall, cloaked in dust. It was a doll, and there was a string attached to its back, and when Clementine pulled it, it produced the word "Mama”.
Clementine remembered the doll that her mother gave her for her sixth birthday; it was probably still in the back of the wardrobe.
Eventually, she found an old pocket-sized backpack with a few flowery stickers, along with a dark-blue hoodie in her size.
“Have you found anything, Clementine?” called out Christa.
“Yeah, a backpack and a hoodie," answered Clementine, walking towards the edge of the stairs where Omid and Christa were.
“Just remember to check the bag, Clem; they might have something useful." Replied Christa.
“Ok," Clementine replied, unzipping the bag and then putting her hand into it, but not looking into it. Lo and behold, she found a working lighter, and it looked like it had a decent amount of fuel for a while.
Clementine then walked to the conclusive door upstairs, and like what she did before, however, the door required a little exertion to open. As a result of this, Clementine noticed that the noise she made alerted her to the presence of a walker heading towards her. This, of course, made Clementine a little timid, but she knew what to do. As her heart started to ram against her ribcage, likewise, a thick seal of sweat began to form on her hands, transferring onto her gun.
Always aim for the head," Clementine said to herself as she exhaled deeply and fired the gun. BANG!! The walker fell with a deafening thud, and Clementine was astounded at herself for shooting the walker that was coming towards her.
I did it, I did it," she exclaimed in a loud whisper. Which is when the door bursts open to reveal Omid and Christa with perturbed faces.
"Is everything OK, Clem? Are you hurt?" Asked Omid.
Yeah, I’m fine; I’m not hurt. Replied Clementine, as the trio all stood in stupefied silence at the walker that Clementine gunned down. "Did you find anything? Clementine asked after a minute of silence.
"Yes. We have found two cans of beans and some water." Christa replied.
"Oh."
“Well, let’s keep moving on, Clem. People might have heard the shot and might come here.” Omid said.
“Ok," responded Clementine. "I said already, but I found a backpack and a hoodie."
“Put it on, Clem; it’s starting to get colder, and we get going."
“Ok, I’ll put it on now."
Clementine then took off her hat, gave the gun to Omid, put on the dark blue hoodie, put her hat back on, and took the gun back from Omid. After that, Clementine followed Christa and Omid downstairs and out of the house and walked on.
* * * * *
Some short weeks later, the trio now situated in a substantial-sized forest under a thick canopy of leaves with Omid tending to a fire. Clementine and Christa, however, were sitting down on some nearby log around the fire.
Christa was busy talking to Omid about her pregnancy, whereas Clementine was busy herself by looking at the stars. The stars flickered and danced in the sky like a million tiny flames, casting a shimmering glow over the forest below. Furthermore, the sky itself was filled with low oranges, along with a mixture of light blues. Which were progressively getting into the realms of dark blues, purples and then full-on jet-black. Moreover, there seemed to be a chorus of crickets hiding somewhere in lush grasses, chirping away harshly.
“I would say that rabbit is cooked now, Omid.”
“Oh, right, yeah,” replied Omid, as he began to take the cooked rabbit off the spit – and handed it out to Christa and Clementine, then to himself.
"Thank you very much," Clementine said as she reached for the rabbit meat before going back to look at the stars. She thought to herself as she ate: "How many are there? Hundreds? Thousands? Millions?"
“Hm, what – sorry Christa; what did you say?”
“Omid and I said that we are going to rest here tonight and get going in the morning."
"Ok, as my legs still ache from all that walking we did today."
"Well, get some rest, you're going to need it," Omid said, rising from poking the fire.
"Ok," responded Clementine, getting up from the weather-worn log, wishing Omid and Christa a good night before she got onto the floor near the fire and began to close her eyes. She then began to dream about what she would be doing tomorrow, what would happen, and what she would see.
The next morning was filled with colours ranging from warm yellows trickling through the gaps in the trees. Clementine rubbed her eyes before getting up from the harsh, tough ground and walked to the log where she sat last night, where she saw Omid was cooking again.
"Morning, Clem," Omid said. "How did you sleep?"
"Ok, I'd rather sleep in a bed than on the floor."
"Yeah, I don't like it either, but it's necessary until we get to Wellington."
"Where's Christa?" asked Clementine, now looking around the campsite as she noticed Christa wasn't there.
But then, five minutes later, after Clementine had eaten, Christa came back - and with this, the trio began to walk on; with her now near Omid and Christa. Yet, like last time, Clementine's fingers were still wrapped around her pistol as if it were a part of her. But instead of looking at her feet, she was looking around the pensive clearing.
The clearing was serene, where only a few walkers were roaming around, but they could be seen more evidently through a few hacked trees. The trio strolled down the lane through dappled light filtering itself through the trees; moreover, the sound of the leaves rustled in the weak wind. There was also an occasional bird twittering away on a pile of stacked logs near the broad track Clementine, Omid, and Christa were walking. There was also an infrequent number of signs that littered the road.
"TWO MILES UNTIL TRUCK STOP", Clementine read as she walked on with Omid and Christa.
"How about...Isabella?" Christa said aloud.
"Nah," scoffed Omid, "James is far better."
"That's if it's a boy, Omid. Clementine, do you have any name ideas?"
"What about...Carley?"
"Yeah, that's a good name." Responded Omid, with an expression of puzzled thought in his voice.
For the next couple of miles, they (primarily, Christa and Omid) talked about what seemed to be endless baby names for Christa's child; to pass the time. Clementine wondered if her parents had this amount of difficulty when they chose her name.
Eventually, Clementine stopped a little as Omid and Christa walked on regardless; as she noticed there was a blackbird perched on a nearby tree which cawed before flying into the lush forest.
"What do you think?" asked Omid, as he poised at the truck stop over the abandoned road before crossing it with Christa and Clementine.
"Omid, you can't be serious," answered Christa.
"I am."
"We are NOT doing that."
"Why not?"
"Because one of you is enough!"

I'm UK based so this is from an NHS perspective
I thought I'd write a post to hopefully help a few people out if they are feeling nervous about surgery. This is my personal experience and everyone's will be different obviously, but I thought I'd share.
Had my surgery yesterday (May 16th) but I hadn't slept a wink. I was utterly terrified of what lay ahead. Aside from the one gallbladder attack on the 22nd of April I had no further issues. I lay there thinking if I was doing the right thing, going to butcher myself from a one off occurrence. I got up and showered at 6am, packed my Grogu dressing gown and my slippers and slowly made my way downstairs. My husband sat on the sofa, telling me he'd got up early to see me off. He was feeling guilty because he would be unable to come with me because he gets very anxious travelling to far. I shared my fears with him and he just sat with me and cuddled me and told me I was doing the right thing because he'd been misdiagnosed when he was younger and went 18 months suffering from debilitating Gallbladder attacks and he didn't want to see the same thing to potentially happen to me.
I drank my last glass of water at 6:30am before crying as I ordered the Uber at 7:00am to take me on the 11 mile journey out to the hospital in a town I'd never been to before. Every second resisting the very real urge to tell the driver to turn round. I got to the hospital at 7:32 and obviously went into the wrong building at first. But one of the very helpful ladies on the desk pointed me in the right direction and even offered to walk me part way so I could find it. I said I would be OK. I made my way round to the Day Surgery building only to find a queue at the reception desk.. Giving me even more opportunity to run screaming out of the door. But I thought of my husband's words and I stayed there. Gave my name and plonked myself in the reception area, trying to distract myself with my phone.
Around 20 minutes later I was called through to have my first discussion with a member of the surgical team. The nurse taking me through could see I was obviously getting upset, so she gave me quick hug and reassured me I'd be OK. I sat with the surgical team member who went over everything they were planning. He had my notes and could see that aside from the Gallstones I was otherwise healthy. He explained that because my case was relatively simple it would be an almost 100% chance it would stay as Keyhole Surgery and he told me how the operation would be performed and went over the consent to surgery form with me. Strangely this made me feel a bit more at ease because he was not only being kind and understanding of my distress, he was professional and informative.
After that discussion I went out to the waiting room again to pass time before being taken to the ward. Again about a 15 minute wait and I was brought through to the ward. A second nurse came to do my heart rate and blood pressure. At this point I was fighting back tears which the nurse could see, so she let me talk out my feelings and offered me kind words to calm me down.
At this point the Anaesthesiologist came into my little curtained off area to tell me what he would be doing as part of the team. The mild sedative he'd administer to get my brain ready for the anesthetic and that I would be the second surgery of the day so I'd be in around midday. He confirmed my consent forms and double checked I was who I was. He also gave me some kind words and left. The nurse took details of who she would call after the operation to let them know I was OK (my husband and the friend who was picking me up) I settled down on the bed while the nurse pottered around with my paperwork. Then the shock happened. The first nurse I'd seen that day poked her head through the curtain to inform the blood pressure nurse that my surgery had been brought forward because the person who was meant to be first hadn't turned up yet. New panic activated. I wasn't expecting it so soon. So I sat there mildly horrified that I wouldn't have time to process. I was told I'd be going to get changed soon. After a short wait, I was then informed the first patient had turned up... So I was bumped back to second I thought. OK I can relax a little... No such luck. The surgical team had already begun prepping for MY operation. So they would still be doing mine first instead. I didn't have time to panic. I was brought through to the changing rooms, given some very sexy paper knickers and compression socks and a robe. I popped on my Grogu dressing gown over the top and my slippers. I didn't even go back to the ward. The nurses took my clothes I'd come in with and boxed them up safely. I was guided through to the surgical prep room. Where I was greeted by the two members of the team I'd already met and the additional team member. They talked me through everything again and confirmed my consent for the surgery to go ahead and one kept me occupied by talking about my nerdy tattoos as he popped a brain wave monitor on my head. I was asked for my weight and height so the correct dosage of anesthetic could be given. A cannula was put in my hand and the Anaesthesiologist administered the first dose of the sedative which gave me a mild light feeling. They continued to talk to me about my tattoos which were from some of favourite TV series and even had a laugh about my Grogu dressing gown. Then I was given the main dose of anesthetic. No counting down from 10, just continuing to talk about the TV series... And then I woke up in the recovery room. Sore, but not in agony. Feeling very groggy, but I came round fairly quickly. Slurring my words a bit and trying to pay attention to the nurse who was rousing me. As I became more aware she told me my operation had been absolutely textbook with zero issues. Nice clean incisions glued back together. She gave me a mild but hospital standard painkiller
After a few minutes I was wheeled through to the main ward again where I was met by the nurse who had taken my blood pressure. Smiling she sat me up slightly in bed and gave me some water and got me some biscuits to nibble on. She told me that I'd be there for 3 hours after the operation which was standard. They wanted to check I was as comfortable as I was going to be. And that I had been to the toilet at least once during that time. I had a very dry throat from the breathing tube so I was sipping a lot of water. I had a bit of help walking to the bathroom but they said it was positive that I had been. Of course silly me had forgotten to bring a book to read during my wait, but the nurse said as long as I was discreet while she went and made the phone calls I could listen to something on my phone... So me being me, I picked a true crime YouTuber (Rotten Mango). She came back and checked my blood pressure every half an hour, which she was happy with. I just sat and passed the time. Getting more lucid with every passing minute. I was told I could carefully get dressed. My friend was delayed in traffic so I stayed an hour longer than I had to (4 hours in total) and the nurses I'd seen that day both gave me a gentle hug and said it had been a pleasure to be with me that day. I slowly made my way to my friend's car and came home to a waiting husband. We took a short walk to the shop (my choice) to get me some light food to eat of crackers and a couple of fruit scones. I didn't immediately feel a need to rest so I gently sat at my computer and watched a few videos. Then at 6:00 I took one of the industrial strength codeine the hospital had given me and settled down to sleep for a couple of hours. I did sleep OK last night after going back to sleep again at about 1am and after taking 2 of the codeine which brings us to now. I've manged to eat, I'm still tender, but on the whole I'm OK less than 24 hours after surgery.
Sorry this was a long one and if you've made it to the end. Thank you for your time

Disclaimer: this is very speculative and only one of the many possible interpretations of DFV's tweets so far.
Over the past few days we have witnessed the overture, the beginning, distraction, made you look phase of the plan. Everything panned out like our heroes wanted. MSM was baited in, all the bots got activated, shillery for different tickers etc. Hopefully the DOJ and SEC paid close attention.
This morning I ran into this post from 5 months ago:

QUOTE

https://twitter.com/DominosJack/status/1731032291244146806
---
In January of 2021 #GME ruffled a lot of feathers, triggering an event that posed a systemic risk to the global financial system, a risk equal to the corruption that facilitated its emergence.They haven’t forgotten, nor has Ryan Cohen, neither has the discerning retail investor, the SEC, the DOJ, Congress, Carl Icahn, Mark Cuban, Larry Cheng, Elon Musk and many more.You don’t expose a criminal’s greatest weakness to the world and expect them to fall for the same gambit again. The sequel has to be exponentially more calculated than the original.And there was Bed Bath and Beyond, another sitting duck retailer with a bought and paid for CEO, enormous short interest, pandemic fatigue and a prime candidate for cellar boxed tax free gains.GameStop 2.0 was never the play here. They were caught off guard the first time, this would have to be a ground breaking market maneuver and it would require a retail presence far more risk tolerant than anything seen before. The only way to collectively synthesize that level of risk tolerance is by building, brick by brick, an information devouring juggernaut capable of jumping from one social media platform to the next without skipping a beat.The brilliance of this play can be summed up in fairly simple terms.Every single corporate action from the moment Ryan Cohen sold his shares resulted in two diametrically opposed results:

1. Signal the algos to short
2. Speak to the retail investor in language AI is yet to comprehend. Speak not in white lines but in the spaces between. Distract AI with the Woman in the Red Dress, keep Retail focused on every move Mr. Smith makes.

There it is in black and white. If you think the Matrix reference is hyperbolic, you’re not paying attention. To say the gamification of the markets is an issue is the understatement of the century.They turned the markets into a real time videogame by handing the keys over to the algos with no way of getting them back. Ryan Cohen and company, along with the select group of retail investors wise enough to read between the lines, are in the process of returning the markets to the collective unconscious which, when challenged, has embedded within it a wealth of resources far superior to any binary code system built to transfer wealth from the masses to the corrupt, unworthy few.They built a global financial video game and somehow missed the fact that a generation of gamers would be their opponent. That is why they are the Dumb Stormtroopers.And so what you have here is a necessary hack into a system that not only imbues almost no inherent value to society but will continue to metastasize until it creates a true dystopian reality. That shit is not gonna happen on Ryan Cohen’s watch or on ours. This is a team effort against a singular minded machine.The importance of the #BBBYQ play cannot be overstated. They must be stopped, they will be stopped and the power will be returned to the players 🏴‍☠️

END QUOTE

The 'no fighting' meme stood out to me. Warning the communities against internal strife perhaps? Should we expect there to be a reason for strife?
There was also braveheart dying, shouting GameStop. A meme where we were told not to fear the reaper (song). Lots of references to mirroring and reversal everywhere. There's two of them talking to each other (there's two stocks in play?). With the hindsight of these memes it does seem plausible that the real plan will involve Bobby as the main gambit. I do think Jimmy will run, but I also think the main offense might originate from Bobby.
The Jason Bourne tweet mentions 'i can't run with you, they know who I am' (Jimmy is controlled, all eyes are on it). He says this to the actress who also plays the lead in the Run Lola Run movie. The color on the mini was edited to red with the steering wheel saying "I'm In". But they park the red car and get out. The car is now black (Jimmy profitable in the black) as Ryan gosling exits and blends in with the crowd.
The quoted post even mentions "keeping everyone focused on the woman in the red dress" and we have a meme with Emma stone attracting everyone's attention while wearing a GameStop logo. GameStop is the woman in the red dress.
It feels right to me; these past days short term profiteers with capital have jumped on Jimmy. These are not the kind of people RC wants to reward. Bobby is inaccessible, only available to our crazy lot who dug into the paperwork and went through the bankruptcy deathspiral. There's no possibility for FOMO. The bad guys are all locked in here with us, without an exit.
TLDR; memes warming us up to the idea that bobby is the main play? Jimmy will become a forever hold, being very valuable and worthwhile but not nessecarily giant moass numbers?

I've got a bit of a silly question about parking in Palermo and I'm hoping you can help me out. Next month, I'll be on a road trip through Sicily and staying in Palermo for three nights. As a foreign tourist, parking is a bit of a headache. The B&B I've booked is in an apartment building outside the ZTL zone. I checked it out on Google Street View and saw the street sides around the building are packed with parked cars, but I didn't see any white or blue lines indicating parking spots. The nearest parking lots I found is a bit far from the apartment and charges 20 to 30 euros per day, with no guarantee of a spot. So here's my question: if I arrive and see an empty spot on the street near the apartment on the day of check-in, is it wise to park there and leave the car there for 3 days (I don't think I'm causing any extra trouble for anyone since the street is already full of parked cars and I'm not blocking pedestrians)? What are the chances of getting a parking ticket for illegal parking? I mean, if the fine isn't outrageously high—let's say under 100 euros—and the probability of getting fined isn't too high either, then the fine multiplied by the chance of getting fined seems like a better deal than spending a lot of time hunting for a parking lot. Am I missing something here?

Hello everyone,
Not sure how to format my first question here, well we need to replace a car in the family from a small car (VW Golf) to a more specious one that should also be more powerful and comfortable for longer drives, as well as being able to pull a small trailer if needed.
I was looking at the 2015-2016 make BMW X1 with xDrive20i, petrol powered, most used have from 90km up to 199-200km on them.
What interests me first is how reliable should such car be if it already drove 150km++ ? Taking into a account that the service history shows proper maintenance throughout the years, and the car it self look like it was taken care of?
Second, what common mechanical or electrical known issues does this car have when used? Focusing on the expensive parts such as the engine, transmission etc.? as well as any super expensive electric components which are prone to problems?
Last but not least, which make year is the better build overall? Is it 2015-2016? Or should I look into the more recent 2017-2018 models?
I am located in Germany, it that makes any difference.
Many thanks for any reply

Anyone know the major differences between a GTR or GTT model Skyline verse the GTX.
I found an imported one with 145,000 KM at a local dealership for $14000 and was wondering if it was worth it and if it is comparable to the GTR or GTT.
I know that the GTX has automatic transmission when more people prefer manual for these type of cars but is there any other reason why I can't find much about them online such as builds or anything or why they're a lot cheaper?

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Hello,
I was renting a parking spot for 4.5 years from someone in my building as my unit only came with one stall. The owner of the stalls have two stalls side by side. I rented one and they use the other. The other day they dinged my drivers side door with their front passenger side door, and I know it was them as there is corresponding damage. I also looked at my car before parking it, as it had come back from the dealership (who in the past also damaged my car). As well both our cars are newer and dark so it was very noticeable considering I see their car and my car every single day. They denied it but when I said I’m going to look into finding camera footage (there’s a camera above my car in the building) they instantly changed their tune and said they noticed the damage on their car (but conveniently not mine) and they would pay if they caused the damage. The wife even called and admitted she caused the damage by ‘lightly tapping my car’ (we recorded the admission).
Right after saying I would look into camera footage, the parking landlord said by email that I needed to be out of the parking stall by the end of the month. He said he no longer wanted the hassle and his wife had her own stupid excuse. Obviously, they kicked me out for bringing up the damage to my car that they caused—god forbid I bring it up! Super disappointing after 4.5 years of no missed payments and in fact EARLY payments by at least a week, every single month.
We were scheduled to meet at our cars to review the damage and things didn’t end well. He basically wanted me out that day and sent me back the funds for half the month.
I recall our contract had a 30 day notice from both parties however it was so long ago, and we had ZERO issues, so I don’t have a copy of the contract. I’m curious if there’s any recourse and whose jurisdiction this falls under, RTB? I’ve made a claim to icbc about the damage; however, kicking me out of the stall without notice—I’m just not sure who to go to !
For reference we are owners so we were just renting the stall from them.

I constantly wonder about: the lives of others, putting myself in other people's shoes, if it's possible that I crossed paths again with strangers from my past, and about how vast and obscure the world's population is.
Long post ahead so hear me out. Every once in a while I'll have these thoughts related to the existential stuff I mentioned in the title. Let's go piece by piece in a format that roughly follows my brains thoughts and see if anymore else ever thinks about this weird stuff.

1. Wondering about the lives of others - I always have this weird thing I do in my mind where I randomly fixated on a stranger and try to put myself in their body hence seeing the world from their point of view. If I'm sitting on a northbound traffic jam, I would look to my left at the traffic jam going southbound and find some person and then imagine that I'M the one looking at the view towards southbound traffic as if I'm sitting in that person's mind and field of vision. This then leads me to wonder where that person is going? What is their life like? Who are their loved ones? What do they do for a living? And basically coming to the conclusion that they also have a complex and intricate life like mine. They laugh, cry, smirk, and show various other emotions just like how I do. In my life they are just side characters but in their lives they are the main character. I hate it when this mind teleport thing happens in scary or dark situations. Like if I'm watching a documentary about a child abductor / murderer, my mind teleports into the minds of those kids and my body "feels" the sense of dread, fear, and anxiety that those kids feel. This feeling scares the shit out of me in these situations. Or when you fight with your mom and leave the house after saying something hurtful and then you are picturing in your head that she is sitting on a stool softly crying because you hurt her. Then you feel like utter trash because your body "feels" that guilt. It's weird knowing that your mom, brother, best friend all interact with you when you are present in the moment with them and you perceive them a certain way but then when you are in different rooms and separate areas you don't know what they doing, if they are okay, how they behave with others, and how your perception of them would change if you were just a fly on the wall in a room they happen to be in.
   
2. Crossing paths again? - Taking that same person from the first scenario about the traffic jam. I know this person is a complete stranger as we are both just participants in this unbearable traffic jam. However, what if I crossed paths with this person sometime in the past somewhere in a completely different location from where we were both sitting in our cars without even realizing it? For example, say I was born and raised in Florida and moved to Michigan for college before settling for a job in Texas after graduating. There was also another student (the same person above sitting across the median from me in traffic) who was born and raised in Idaho and went to same college as me in Michigan before also moving to Texas for work. We are both originally from two very different parts of the country, then converged in Michigan for college (walked past each other on campus a few times), and now are next to each other in traffic in a third random state. This feeling always weirds me out as it makes me nostalgic for some reason. I feel like for something like this to happen that would be impossible but this world ceases to amaze me. Imagine you are being served ice cream at a Coldstone in New York City and then you see that same person at a gas station in Phoenix 6 months later. Insane.
   
3. I can't stop thinking about how vast and obscure the world's population is and was. We will only meet what seems like a tiny fraction of the amount of people on this planet throughout our lifetime. The amount of people you see daily in TV ads are actual people who are living their lives outside of that TV set. There are so many of them. You seen that person and their face for that one 30 second commercial and then you will never see them again for the rest of your life. You were close to a colleague at work for years and then they left the company for another position out of the state you live in and now you will never see or talk to that person ever again. When they are out of your life, what are they doing? How are they doing? How did they die? All questions we will never know. That feeling feels so grim to me for some reason. There was a person out there who once helped build the house you are living in, another person out there who helped build the phone you are typing on, or the person who helped pave the road you commuted on this morning. The fact that the chair you are sitting on in the restaurant you having dinner at was occupied by so many people in it's history. People of all ages and backgrounds from different parts of the world. All the houses built in this world were built by some people. All the plumbing was created by someone. The laws we follow were created by someone. The words added to the English language for all the various chemicals that we discovered, all the bacteria that we know about were added by some people. You have a recollection of your dad and grandpa right? Did your grandpa know his grandpa? Did he know his grandpa? How far back does you family line go? When do they stop remembering their ancestors as "grandpa" (probably not human that far back)? It's crazy that each person on this planet has lineage that long. Even so far back that their minds just don't comprehend relationships or that the person that looks like you a little is your grandpa.
   

My thoughts hit me with all that nonsense above. Let me know if anyone agrees, feels, thinks about any of this.

How are people holding up around Hempstead Rd area after the storm? I was on my way to take my car to get work done, when it died on me on Hempstead (amazing timing). I ended up getting stranded there for ~5hrs because no tow truck drivers would come to the area and no one could come get me before then. I huddled down in a store when the storm started. Let me just say, the intensity of the storm in that area was real. Once it passed, there were building parts and downed power lines everywhere. A building across the street completely collapsed. And once it got dark, the area was reaalllly dark. I didn’t see anyone with power from 43rd street up to Antoine and beyond when I finally got a ride.
So, just wanted to see if everyone who works and lives over there is safe and OK. Not having power sucks.