Dramatic title, but I can't really explain it that well in few words. I also couldn't figure out a Subreddit that this would fit on, I think this one is best.
This one's a long one. TL;DR at bottom, but some details are important.
A bit of backstory first.
I'm a recently graduated HS Senior, headed to university in Fall. Around March, I applied to work at a mid-sized stadium in my area for a summer job-- I have about 2 years of stable retail experience, plus ServSafe certification and some good credentials outside of that. I've left almost all my jobs on good terms and I do my work fine. Never had any complaints.
I am a black woman. That is relevant to my story. I also have a very "white-sounding" name. For the sake of my privacy, let's say it's Sarah McIntyre. It's got the same vibe. I also have a "white-sounding" voice, especially over the phone. A lot of my family pokes fun at it, and it's not a huge deal.
So, I'm applying to this job, and the online application is pretty sparse. Few questions about my experience, age, and contact info. Nothing about my race at all. I apply, get a request for a phone interview, and hop on a call a few days later. My manager loves me. We have a great interview. She emails me a day later and says I got the job, and my orientation is in a week.
Orientation goes on, it's in a pretty large group and she doesn't address any of us directly or even ask for names, but I noticed her giving me a bit of a weird look. I figured it was about my hair which is dyed bright green so whatever.
We start working, and she's just very weird to me the whole time. Gives me weird looks, doesn't answer my questions, always watching me while I'm working at the concessions register. She doesn't do this with any of the other girls there. Concessions is about five other girls, all around my age. All of them are first-years at the stadium.
I get ready for work the next day, and I get a call from my Manager:
"Hey, OP. Don't come in today." "Oh? Is the game called off?" "No. Someone else is covering you. Bye."
Which was incredibly weird to me, honestly. But I wasn't going to press on the issue-- it was the first shifts of the season, maybe she wanted to train someone else instead of having me work. After this, there was about a month and a half gap between my next shift, which was May 9. Then I have another May 11; both go fine.
Manager posts the schedule for the next few weeks, up until June 9. I have one single shift. One. A four-hour concessions shift. I was insanely confused by this-- it's the start of the season with home games almost every single day, and multiple events with huge crowds. I texted the other girls I work with through our scheduling app and asked what their shifts looked like-- 3 to 5 shifts every week, about six hours each.
I was seriously wracking my brain for 3 days straight trying to think why on Earth I got the short end of the stick. I show up early and leave late every day, I help out as much as I can, customers don't complain, I'm experienced with the register and with counting tender, my co-workers and I get along fine, I've never had any issues with anyone.
The only thing I could seriously think about was my race. Which feels very cheap and victim-y, but it was the only thing I noticed that was an outlier. Out of every single employee at our stadium, I am the only person of color. Maybe somebody else is a minority, too, but they're incredibly white passing if they are. The only other brown people are the baseball players, which aren't on our staff team-- they're a separate entity entirely.
But that's all I can think of-- and my manager wouldn't have known about my race until she saw me for the first time at my first shift. And it's kind of difficult to have all-white staff considering we are in the suburbs of Chicago. Most people in our area are Black or Latino. It's seriously a considered effort to have an all-white staff in this area. I think I may have just slipped through the cracks because my name and voice are very misleading? But I can't tell if I'm overreacting or not-- I haven't said anything to my manager.
I don't want to quit because my coworkers are really nice, and I love the job. It's great being outside and being in a fun and fast environment like a stadium. But I'm trying to save for university and that's difficult when I don't work at all. Plus, I don't wanna give my labor to someone who despises me.
Am I overreacting in this situation and getting ahead of myself, or is this actually something worth looking into? Please help me. And yes, I know that it's very overdramatic to make things about my race-- this is genuinely the first time I've had to consider this with an employer.
TL;DR I'm the only minority at my job and I get barely any shifts while my white coworkers get more. I don't do anything wrong and I have lots of experience in similar roles. Should I look into this more, or get over myself?

Introduction

Hello fellow Helldivers. My name is Elliot, alias TeGoRE, a player with 155 hours on the game and plenty of experience gathered from 3rd party sources, especially Reddit and YouTube. I primarily play on difficulty 7, so this post will be biased specifically towards that difficulty.
As you all may know by this point, a lot of people are upset with the Automaton faction, its issues, balancing, bugs, etc. In this post I will be attempting to bring awareness to specific issues rather than asking for vague and general "fixes" the faction would need. I will also be referencing the other faction currently present in the game, the Terminids, as a point of comparison throughout the post.

"Fun factor" analysis; Loadout restrictions

I'll begin with what I believe will be the major point of discussion here. The automatons are just not fun. I understand this is a critical take, but please read before jumping straight to comments.
Let's compare the "fun" factor of Terminids to Automatons here. The Terminids allow you to run pretty much any loadout, while still letting you have impact on the game. You can run pure fodder clear loadouts with light penetration primaries and support tools and contribute to the mission that way, allowing your teammates to clear the heavies with ease. You can also run pure heavy clear with big bulky primaries and anti-tank tools, still contributing to the mission by destroying any charger and bile titan that comes into sight hence allowing your teammates to shoot the other fodder present without being spat on by a 400 ton oversized shrimp or being charged at by a walking rock. With both loadout cases you can also bring stratagems or change out your primaries and other tools (secondary and grenade specifically) that will allow you to have at least some impact on the heavies or lights, respectfully.
The Automatons don't allow for such loadout variety, and considering all the nerf barrages we've been receiving it's obvious that loadout choices are quite restrictive when it comes to fighting automatons. When was the last time you ran flamethrower against the Automatons? Any of the guard dogs? Any other sentry besides autocannon, EMS mortar or maybe the rocket sentry? Gas or airburst strikes? Light penetration or non-precision primaries? You get my point.
The faction requires a playstyle too specific for the casual player. You need to equip high precision weaponry (AMR, Counter sniper, Dominator, etc.) or medium penetration weaponry (Liberator penetrator, Counter sniper, Autocannon, etc) alongside way too many anti-tank tools. Sure, you can bring fodder clear, but the only realistic fodder is the regular troopers or the strider unit. Maybe berserkers. Only reliable (not saying it's the only viable one might I add) fodder clearer would be the grenade launcher, maybe the arc thrower. Furthermore, once on the actual battlefield, you can't necessarily play aggressive. Jump into a pile of bots and you'll be jumping back out limb-by-limb. You have to stay in cover, picking enemies one by one, slowly advancing forward. Then get all your progress denied by a bot drop :^)
We can then conclude that one of the contributing factors to why the Automatons aren't fun is the fact that it's too restricting and too sluggish. Let's look deeper, and analyse why your loadout and playstyle get so restricted;

Enemy analysis, its' contribution to the fun factor

The enemy types of the faction just do not let you vary your loadout enough.
Devastators specifically are the biggest issue. The regular devastator is well-thought out, a heavier bulkier unit with obvious weakspots and not too much firepower which could be compared to the hive guard in terms of mechanics. However, for the heavy devastator and rocket devastator, these are built to just bullshit you into dying. And good luck killing them if you have a light-pen weapon or generally don't have a longer-ranged or high-precision tool, as their primary body (excluding the abdomen) has enough HP to take three full counter sniper magazines (I do not know how a rocket devastator managed to do that, but it did) and just shrug it off. I don't think I need to talk about heavy devastators, they've been brought up enough... I will just briefly skim over it. They're too accurate. "Suppressive fire" does nothing to them. Their 70%-body-covering shield can eat anti-tank projectiles no problem. Sometimes a pack of devastators can be more devastating (badumtss) than a pack of hulks, depending on what devastators they are. If the "heavy" unit of a faction gets outperformed by common enemies, it's an obvious issue.
Another obnoxious enemy type is the berserker. As the name implies, they're a rage-crazed bot with only one directive: charge at you and kill you, no regard for its personal being. Which would be fine if they didn't have the health pool of a damn tank. One unit alone can eat an anti-tank projectile. And they typically spawns in packs of 4. Their weakspots don't even count as weakspots from what I can personally tell, shooting them in the head or the abdomen does about the same damage as just plain out shooting them. They're hard to kill at their core, and if they're backed up by support fire from the other enemy types behind them, you're pretty much helpless.
The rest of the enemy units are fine, in my opinion. They're well thought-out, with obvious counter-measure mechanics.
Hulks can be compared to Chargers. Heavy, tanky units at first, but mechanic rich enough to be an easy take-down once you figure out what you're doing. They have a giant heatsink which is where you have to shoot at regularly to take them out reliably. Not a weakspot might I add, just a point which you can shoot. Think Charger's butt. If you're a space cowboy shooting their tiny faceplate with anti-tank, or even medium penetration tools, can kill them as well. Lastly, just pumping them full of anti-tank projectiles (typically 2 rockets from any of the support weapons) will take them out just fine. There's other cool tricks you could pull off, such as throwing impact grenades between their feet, making them land behind the hulk, which would then take it out in 2 impact grenades if done right. Thermite grenades also deal a lot of damage to their legs, which can take them out too. Lastly, their arms can just be plain out shot off with the right tools. In conclusion, they are threatening at first, but once you use your brain to figure out its weakness, you're going to shrug them off.
Factory Striders are the Bile Titans of the Automatons. They are a bit less obvious but can still be handled decently well by a complete newbie. 2 miniguns on the front, shoot them off with medium penetration for easier kiting. Rocket the top cannon off for further success. Their big exposed abdomen is the obvious weakspot anyone can figure out. Shoot it enough and it'll die. For the more experienced, the front panel eye alongside the opening vents can also be points of advantage. Oh also can we talk about how they're a giant walking factory? Just bomb that bitch! 500kg, orbital precision strike, a regular airstrike, etc. It's a giant target just BEGGING you to throw stratagems at it.
Striders are simple as well. Big impenetrable front plate, completely exposed sides and back. A baby could do it!
Troopers are just fodder. Shoot 'em, they fall over.

Issue with dropships

If you played at least a few hours on the automaton front, you may know that the dropships can be shot down. However, when was the last time you saw that actually do anything?
The explosion deals too little damage, only sometimes killing the trooper units it's carrying. The body of the dropship itself seems to do no impact damage on the automatons, but loves to damage the shit out of you. The automatons also don't seem to care when they fall down 50 feet. Especially dropships with tanks. Shoot them down at the highest point of their drop, tank flies down at crazy velocity, lands with literally 0 damage to itself, then the dropships smacks on top of the tank doing fuck-all to it.
Oh and you can't forget the fact that the debris is solid cover FOR THE BOTS. You can't shoot through it. They can. They can also walk through it, you can't. ??????????

Issues with Automaton-specific side objectives

I will only bring up the ones that have actual issues behind them. If it isn't brought up here, then I personally believe it is fine.

• SEAF SAM Site

Barely does it's job. Shoots down one dropship per reinforcement, and as we learned earlier shooting the dropships down doesn't even do anything to begin with. Often times the rockets hit terrain as well. Completely pointless side-objective.

• Stratagem Jammer

Add some sort of indication to the spectating players when the person they're spectating is inside a jammer field, and therefore cannot reinforce them. Too many posts about too many people getting kicked for not reinforcing when they literally cannot.

• Mortar emplacement

WARNING YOU ARE IN RANGE OF ENEMY ARTILLERY WARNING YOU ARE IN RANGE OF ENEMY ARTILLERY WARNING YOU ARE IN RANGE OF ENEMY ARTILLERY WARNING YOU ARE IN RANGE OF ENEMY ARTILLERY oh my god SHUT UP!!!!

Bugs (not the Terminid kind)

The faction is riddled with way too many bugs, which just suck the fun out of it. Bots shooting through obviously solid cover, bots seeing you from across the map / through cover and then calling reinforcements, their seemingly 50/50 resistance to explosive damage, then other misc bugs not worth addressing.
This obviously drives people away. A terminid can't shoot me through a rock, I'd prefer fighting that terminid.

Conclusion of analysis; Solutions, final thoughts

The Automaton faction enemies & its mechanics at its core are fine, most enemies making complete sense. Most mechanics, while rich in function, are not very obvious. To play the faction well you need to invest some time into learning how it works. This deters the casual player back to the terminid front, which is a bit more brainless, requiring you just "hurr durr shoot bugs". Here's some solutions to consider:
Rework the devastator enemy type, specifically its specialists types:

• The rocket devastators shouldn't be able to spam their rockets as much as they do. I'd much prefer a larger barrage with a longer cooldown.
• Heavy devastators shouldn't be pin-point accurate if you're not moving / moving slowly. They do spread their shots out if you're moving, but it doesn't contribute all that much, you will still most likely take at least some hits. They're carrying a machine gun and shooting it from their hip with seemingly 0 precision. How is it that accurate?

The spawn rates of the specialist types could be reworked instead, allowing space for the default devastator instead rather than constantly spewing the specialist types. When was the last time you saw a dropship bring just normal devastators?
Please please please do something about berserkers. Lower their health pool. Maybe make the weakspots actually do something. Perhaps make them spawn less frequently if they're in the major enemy pool. Or, instead of that, make the packs smaller. They're a major ammo sink currently and by the time you're done killing them all the other enemies are already in your face.
Dropship crashes should actually do something. If I use up my support weapon's ammo to shoot down a dropship, I would want it to actually contribute to me destroying the bots, not just create a flashy explosion and extra 1-way cover for the bots.
SEAF SAM Site needs a rework of sorts. Make it always spawn on higher terrain, maybe buff its firerate (see actual SAM sites for reference), or keep the firerate as is if dropship crashes actually start doing something, instead improving its turn speed and lock-on speed. Primary issue is terrain though.
"oh yeah this spot is PERFECT for a SAM site!" said the seaf engineer after ordering it be built in a trench enclosed by cliffs from all 4 sides "what the hell is this" said the helldiver when stumbling upon it
Realistically speaking, the only people who perform well when fighting against Automatons are those who have tens of hours of experience on their belt alongside a team with similar skill level, using proper "meta" (god forbid) loadouts to properly counter the bot menace. The casual solo-queue player just crumbles.

Conclusion & Goodbyes

I may have missed some things, but I tried to grab everything problematic about the faction to the best of my ability. I will most likely not edit the post due to it already being gigantic. However any comments adding onto the post are obviously appreciated. :)
If you're here to find a tl;dr, don't bother. No way in hell I'm summarizing 11.5k+ worth of characters. Just read the analysis conclusion.
If you're here after reading everything above, thank you. I hope this was a fun read and brought attention to why you might not be having as much fun on automatons, maybe made you realize what needs to be done in order to counter the currently sluggish faction. I just hope I helped in some way.
If you're a developer, thank you for creating an amazing game. I've been in love with Helldivers 2 since the very start (upon finding it reaching sky-high popularity), enjoying every hour of gameplay. But just like with any game, it has its flaws, and I hope these are properly addressed. The community has been asking for changes, and I hope my post brought awareness to it.
Buh-bye!!!

Attention All Aspiring Pro Gamers (in MENA)!
If you or anyone you know plays League of Legends, Valorant, CS2, or Apex Legends, and you are a Masters player or above, please reach out to me!!
My name is Omar “Raks” and I am an aspiring Esports Team Manager here in the UAE with a educational and business background in Esports. I would love to recruit some players to compete in amateur tournaments to start, then trying out for qualifiers for the big stage! Team name and logo is decided on already so we can just recruit and start practicing!
I would find and sign us up for the tournaments, organize training and transport, as well as be your liaison for whatever needs you have 😊
I would love to discuss more in DMs, Discord, or in person!
Please reach out if you have any questions and/or are interested.

Attention All Aspiring Pro Gamers (in MENA)!
If you or anyone you know plays League of Legends, Valorant, CS2, or Apex Legends, and you are a Masters player or above, please reach out to me!!
My name is Omar “Raks” and I am an aspiring Esports Team Manager here in the UAE with a educational and business background in Esports. I would love to recruit some players to compete in amateur tournaments to start, then trying out for qualifiers for the big stage! Team name and logo is decided on already so we can just recruit and start practicing!
I would find and sign us up for the tournaments, organize training and transport, as well as be your liaison for whatever needs you have 😊
I would love to discuss more in DMs, Discord, or in person!
Please reach out if you have any questions and/or are interested.

Visit the Wikipedia link given in the comments and head down to "political aspirations", read it and hope you understand.
To the people who are unaware, Ranjit is the CEO of RR and the chairman of the company that owns RR. He has been associated with RR since 2008. However, he did not bother to promote the game (or) the team in the North East of India till the year 2022. Once, he saw the team and brand peaking he took the opportunity for his selfish gains and moved the matches from Jaipur to Guwahati.
He is not bothered about promoting the game (or) the team. He is not bothered about the team, the management (or) the fans. All he cares about is money and that too for his selfish gains. He just wants to establish his name among the political clout.
Robbing away the pride of RR for selfish gains. It is high time for Manoj Badale and Co to boot Ranjit out.

Attention All Aspiring Pro Gamers (in MENA)!
If you or anyone you know plays League of Legends, Valorant, CS2, or Apex Legends, and you are a Masters player or above, please reach out to me!!
My name is Omar “Raks” and I am an aspiring Esports Team Manager here in the UAE with a educational and business background in Esports. I would love to recruit some players to compete in amateur tournaments to start, then trying out for qualifiers for the big stage! Team name and logo is decided on already so we can just recruit and start practicing!
I would find and sign us up for the tournaments, organize training and transport, as well as be your liaison for whatever needs you have 😊
I would love to discuss more in DMs, Discord, or in person!
Please reach out if you have any questions and/or are interested.

Attention All Aspiring Pro Gamers (in MENA)!
If you or anyone you know plays League of Legends, Valorant, CS2, or Apex Legends, and you are a Masters player or above, please reach out to me!!
My name is Omar “Raks” and I am an aspiring Esports Team Manager here in the UAE with a educational and business background in Esports. I would love to recruit some players to compete in amateur tournaments to start, then trying out for qualifiers for the big stage! Team name and logo is decided on already so we can just recruit and start practicing!
I would find and sign us up for the tournaments, organize training and transport, as well as be your liaison for whatever needs you have 😊
I would love to discuss more in DMs, Discord, or in person!
Please reach out if you have any questions and/or are interested.

MilK_TTV is his name, straight up blatantly cheating. Might just be a troll name. I crashed after he killed me but head-peaking a hangar entrance and one shotting in the chest when I watched you and your squad come down the Fort Narith ramp without engaging any AI is hilarious.
Back to PvE I go…

Attention All Aspiring Pro Gamers (in MENA)!
If you or anyone you know plays League of Legends, Valorant, CS2, or Apex Legends, and you are a Masters player or above, please reach out to me!!
My name is Omar “Raks” and I am an aspiring Esports Team Manager here in the UAE with a educational and business background in Esports. I would love to recruit some players to compete in amateur tournaments to start, then trying out for qualifiers for the big stage! Team name and logo is decided on already so we can just recruit and start practicing!
I would find and sign us up for the tournaments, organize training and transport, as well as be your liaison for whatever needs you have 😊
I would love to discuss more in DMs, Discord, or in person!
Please reach out if you have any questions and/or are interested.

I'd like to share a lengthy and self-indulgent note about my history with the Baha'i community and the impact it had on my family and me. It's worth noting that I'm sharing this using a throwaway Reddit account that I generally reserve for browsing porn. I find funny to imagine a Baha'i apologist reading this, becoming angry and judgmental, and then, investigating my profile and ending up jerking off. With that said, let's dive into my story.
I want to share my experience in case it resonates with someone else, a lot of the stories on this Reddit helped me, and perhaps my story will give some comfort to someone else. It has taken me a while to write this down, and I'm glad I finally got around to doing it.
My parents emigrated from their homeland for reasons of principle and value. Upon their arrival, they were greeted by Baha'is who met them. And so, lovebombed and lavished with love, praise, and celebration for moving countries due to values that they portrayed as being closely aligned with the Baha'i faith, my parents fell for this validation and worked very hard once they became Baha'is in the mid-1980s.
My dad got rid of all of his whiskies, and swiftly, my parents began hosting potlucks and fireside chats, diligently working to integrate into the Baha'i ecosystem. Back then, the atmosphere was fairly light-hearted, with devotional gatherings, prayers, and a somewhat 1960s-esque hippie vibe. There was live guitar music, and joss sticks.
However, I remember Baha'i classes having an interesting edge. We were taught that Buddhists were not following a religion but merely a way of life, and that Hindus had become pantheistic because they had lost the core of their faith and religion, which had become corrupted over time. Thanks to Google, I can discover that yes indeed, this is from Lights of Guidance.
There was a significant emphasis on the importance of gender equality and the oneness of humanity – because, hey, the eighties. I feel sad there isn't anything anymore about the Virtues project - even if the Virtues project was sort of framed like it was created by Bahais.
Even in the 1980s, there was an overwhelming atmosphere that the key to being a good Baha'i was how you presented yourself rather than your actual behaviour. I recall learning an apocryphal tale of a young Baha'i who, while fasting, participated in an aerobics class and nearly fainted (yeah, aerobics, this is a real 80s fable), but was told by another Baha'i to prioritize representing the faith well over completing the fast because *it looked bad*. From a very early age, I learned the importance of putting the right face forward.
My parents then took their relationship with the Baha'i faith to the next level and volunteered at the World Centre in Haifa. As a child, this was a pretty interesting experience. I was suddenly immersed in the Iranian, or rather, Persian community, with its strong culture of martyrdom. Even as a child, every event seemed to feature graphic videos depicting young kids being taken from their homes. It was quite frightening, and I remember being afraid.
I also recall a strong sense of hierarchy within the community. My family lived in a small apartment with a very old, busted-up car from the 1970s, while others resided in nice homes with pleasant views and drove nice cars. I attended a local Israeli school, which was a cultural experience in itself, while my peers my age went to the much fancier American school. It's important to note that, at this point, the conversation about the "great catastrophe" – two-thirds of the world's population dying, leading to a period of peace and the entry by troops – was a prevalent topic openly discussed at the World Centre.
We completed our stint there, even living through the Gulf War. Upon returning to my birth country, my parents chose to live in places with smaller Baha'i communities, as they wanted to support and help establish Local Spiritual Assemblies. Things had changed by this point, not only because I was a teenager but also because the community itself had transformed. There was a significant Iranian presence everywhere, and the focus had shifted heavily towards rules, especially those related to sex, drinking, and drug use. There was also a huge emphasis on financial contributions to the faith, and it was the first time I began to see a somewhat materialistic outlook within the community.
As a preteen and teenager, I engaged in activities like dropping off flyers in mailboxes and soliciting strangers to talk about this great new religion, all in the name of “teaching”. I joined the local choir and sang, inspired by a crush I had on a girl there. This was probably the golden time of the community, with the choir doing outreach and a balance between Western and Iranian believers.
However, things began to accelerate. The Ruhi Institute and teaching became significant focal points. I was encouraged to bring a good friend of mine to a Baha'i camp, and once there, I was pressured to ask him to convert. It was very uncomfortable.
This Reddit loves cringe stories, so here is a winner: I had a birthday party with my non-Baha'i friends, and two older Baha'i girls attended. One of the girls ended up stalking my friend, showing up at his workplace and calling him at home with sexually suggestive comments. The matter was escalated to the Local Spiritual Assembly, but instead of talking to me about it, they basically ended my friendship with this kid. To me, this somehow captures so much of what it was like to be a Baha'i child and how Baha'i adults treat children to this day.
When I turned 15, I signed up for Baha'i membership because it was the expected thing to do. However, by the time I was in my early 20s and studying at university, I had started to interact more with the local, real-world community. This might seem like a small thing, but it was actually quite significant. You see, my parents had always felt a little bit on the outside compared to the average person on the street around them. This sense of elitism was really exacerbated by being a Baha'i because Baha'is would walk around in a cloud of self-assurance, looking at us and thinking, "We don't do drugs. We've got all the answers and solutions, not like you." That was pretty much the attitude. It felt very socio-economic, with a lot of judgment towards working-class people. When the Iranians arrived, the cultural judgments grew even stronger.
But I was working in restaurants and learning about booze from bartenders. I had gotten to know real people. I had lost my virginity, and all that Bahai jazz seemed so much less relevant. I hardly even noticed when the year 2000 arrived without the predicted apocalypse, entry by troops, or any of the other anticipated events. Life went on. I lived in another country and met a girl, and we lived together.
Here is cringe story #2: my girlfriend /fiancé and I hosted a Bahai couple from my hometown. Despite being in my late 20s and engaged, and even though I hosted this gentleman in my house and helped him with his preparations for his business and presentations in the country where I lived, he reported to the Local Spiritual Assembly that I was living with a woman and we weren't married. It was absolutely amazing. The level of judgment still grosses me out.
I started to reflect on what the religion had meant to me and saw how it had changed. The obsession with fundraising was becoming ever more strident and panicked. The gaps in the actual scriptural logic of the religion were becoming more exacerbated as real-world problems still ran rife, and real-time discussions on social media brought these issues to light. It took me a while to start really digging into it, and it was only much later, when I started therapy, that I realized I needed to formally resign from the religion.
Looking back, it's astonishing how this religion, which professes to have such blind equality between the genders, as if other religions have some kind of hardwired sexism, actually had hardwired sexism in how the Universal House of Justice operates. A religion that taught the oneness of humanity, as if all humanity is equal and other religions don't recruit from anyone they can find, places divisors. Although of course, Bahai’s can’t recruit from Israeli Jews, so much for oneness of humanity. But this religion has taught that all humanity is equal, unless, of course, you're gay. Then you can't get married, let alone have sex.
There are other principles I haven't touched on, such as non-involvement in politics, unless it involves things happening to Baha'is or politics in Iran. The principle of independent investigation of the truth doesn't seem to work if you might investigate something that's not in line with the Baha'i perspective. The idea of a universal language? I don't really see any evidence that they're even really thinking about that one. The unity between science and religion? A religion that only allows men to sit on its senior board of a global theocracy probably isn't going to jive with a contemporary scientific perspective…. I mean, apparently you don't need a penis to be a man anymore, right?
In between these moments are my colorful memories of random things, like endless discussions about the boundaries of physical intimacy, people getting married at the age of 16 because they had exemptions for being Persian, and meeting Ms. Khanoom in Israel, feeling some sadness that the lone woman who at least brought some feminine energy to the World Centre is now gone, replaced by 12 boring men.
I've had conversations with my wife where I tried to explain what Baha'is actually do. She just wonders why they aren't doing stuff like normal religions do, like reading to the elderly or supporting schools for the disabled. I explain that's not the target demographic. I remember a wealthy man brought to firesides who obviously nobody else wanted to listen to, but we all sat around and applauded him like he was a great ukulele player and a clever man. He pointed out a hilariously Iranian man who was an alternative healer, and they got into a debate about modern medicine. The wealthy man said, "Well, you should see my daughter and what she studied. She studies Law." And then quickly changed the subject when asked about her name since I studied at the same Law school. Here's this man who's self-aware enough to join the adoration of his crowd but doesn't want his daughter mixed up in it in any way. Absolutely hilarious. Make that cringe story #3.
This reflection was sort of sparked when my wife and I discovered that the writings attributed to Rumi, which Baha'is often quote, is the same guy who started the Whirling Dervishes. We read about Rumi and I realized just how different he is from Baha'u'llah. Rumi wrote poetry, but he didn't pretend to be a prophet of God. He was just offering a different dynamic for how to interpret spirituality. He didn't say he was part of some sort of cycle. There's something beautiful about that simplicity. And needless to say, Rumi lived long before the Baha'is ever started.
It makes me wonder, will anyone ever watch the equivalent of a whirling dervish dance for the Baha'is?
The obsession with appearances sounds like a joke, but it isn't. It wasn't for me. Some bad stuff happened to me on my trip to Israel. When we got there, my parents didn't understand why I was so upset about everything. It was a culture shock, attending a local school, not speaking Hebrew, being lumped together with Russian kids who also didn't speak Hebrew, and getting beaten up in the toilet. It wasn't a very good time for me.
So, I was sent to counsel with a local Israeli counselor. After several sessions, she instructed that I had to sit down with my parents and tell them what I needed to tell them, particularly about the shadow that had come over me since coming to Israel. My parents were enraged when I said, “I wish we never became Bahai”.
And so, we returned from the Holy Land and moved to a tiny community that was struggling to get members. To this day, my parents are still members. I've resigned so I'm never dubbed a "covenant breaker." I'm pretty sure my parents know that I resigned because they literally never raise the topic of the Baha'i faith with me. I wish the religion had some interesting cosmology, something mystical, some interesting new take on the universe, or provided my family with tools to handle being migrants or raising teenagers. At the very least, it could have given us a common language we could have used to bond together. It did none of that.
But to be fair, if it wasn't the Baha'is, some other rinky-dink cult would have love-bombed my parents back in the 1980s. Of course, it would have been so much more fun if it had featured more sex and drugs 😊

Hi Eevies/EvTers/Evers!
Wanna vote but don't have time to watch ads? Not a problem!👌 Just participate in our Donation Drive and let the voting team handle the rest! 😎
However, if you do have time to spare, kindly help us with a few taps on your phone and vote! 😁
Here is a list of on-going voting campaigns and their current status:

Winnable Purely by Fan Votes 🤳

UPICK (Rookie Artist of May):

Deadline: May 23, 2024

App Name	Current Place	Opponent
UPICK	1st - 9,968,207 votes	2nd - 9,683,050 votes

We are currently on a 3-month winning streak for this award.
The first 3 months were Elisia, Gehlee, and Yunha (in order).
It's Seowon's turn this month.

KGMA Trend of the Year: Kpop Group (Monthly Voting - May):

Deadline: May 19, 2024 (just ended the other day)
In case you missed it, we won! 🥳
Based on the info given on the Fancast app, there is a chance that a monthly trophy will be awarded to UNIS.
Since I'm not sure 100% sure how this works, I suggest we wait for the official announcement from KGMA.👍
Overall current status (as per Fancast app):

1. Pre-voting (April) - 10% we lost 😢
   
2. Monthly voting (May-August) - 40%
   
3. May - 10% we won! 🥳
   
4. June - 10% save votes for this one!
   
5. July - 10%
   
6. August - 10%
   
7. Main voting (November?) - 50%
   

Great job, everyone! 😃👍

Includes Other Criteria 📊

34th SMA Rookie Award (Monthly Voting - May):

Deadline: May 31, 2024

App Name	Current Place	Opponent
PODOAL	1st - 326,200 votes	2nd - 77,700 votes
my1pick	1st - 49.26%	2nd - 40.45%
K-POP SEOUL	1st - 2,687 votes	2nd - 851 votes

Judging Criteria (as per last year's): 1. Professional judges and SMA Organizing Committee (50%) 2. Album sales (25%) 3. Mobile voting worldwide (25%) - monthly voting contributes to the main voting as per SMA's current front page notice.
As per F&F CEO, an extension of two more years will be considered if UNIS wins the "Rookie of the Year" award.
I have a feeling this is not the only one with an award of this kind though. Please comment below if you have information regarding other "Rookie of the Year" awards.

KM Chart (ROOKIE of May):

Deadline: May 24, 2024

App Name	Current Place	Opponent
Idol Champ	5th - 3.01%	1st - 58.97%
my1pick	5th - 19 votes	1st - 849 votes

Judging Criteria (according to KM Chart's website): 1. Voting (50%) - 25% on Idol Champ, 25% on my1pick. 2. KM chart data (50%)
This is a quarterly award, but it does give a physical trophy to the winner. It can motivate the girls if they get one.
Fan votes contribute as much as the chart data, but it's almost the deadline, so this may not be something we can win. Unless... 👀
Did I miss something?
If yes, kindly mention them in the comments so I can include them on my next update 👍. Thanks!

Kadillac Kirk had been a good friend of mine for several years. I had met him through friends from The Spring Stage; and he never had anything to do with The Imp, which is why he didn’t appear in the Married Mary saga. Mary would have totally thrown herself at him, and Kirk would have definitely “thrown it in her.” He loved the ladies and often remarked that there was no such thing as an unappealing woman, nor was there anything sweeter than finding the pearl of passion in an outwardly plain dame. Fortunately for Kirk, he never met Mary. This was probably fortunate for Mary as well, seeing as Kirk was a confirmed bachelor and he would have probably broken her fat heart.
Kirk was an older guy. Not MOE old, though. He was in his early forties, but he easily passed for a carefree dude in his 30s... not that he lied about his age. I only mention this trait to juxtapose Kirk’s genuine youthful air with Moe’s unconvincing youthful farce. Kirk dressed normally, avoided stupid jargon, and never busted out gimmicks like tarot cards or spells. He just existed, behaved affably, and people liked him for it.
He drove a classic 1962 Cadillac El Dorado convertible with red leather interior, and he lived in a charmingly quaint (and ridiculously expensive) neighborhood. How he made his fortune remained a mystery, but he never bloviated about his wealth. He just threw spectacular parties and people showed up. And, to my knowledge, he never tried to lure women into bed with his money (although I’m sure he got his fair share of boom-boom thanks to his digs and his wheels, even if the gold-diggers denied their monetary agendas).
Kirk was legitimately handsome. He was a drummer, he had a full head of black hair, he was clean-shaven, he worked out, and he knew all the hidden gems in Wellsprings. So why hadn’t I tried... or even desired to date him? I don’t know. I just didn’t feel drawn to him like that. He felt like a cool uncle and he had, thus far, never done anything to change my perception. Plus, the age difference weirded me out a little. Kirk didn’t look forty; but knowing that he had so much more life experience than I did created a power imbalance that would have creeped me out if we’d been dating. As buddies, I just felt supremely cool riding in his Cadillac, smoking Fantasia cigarettes, and hitting the speakeasies and jazz clubs I would have never known about if it weren’t for Kirk’s connections.
And he had been a good person to talk to about my romantic woes. He never lecherously suggested that I should date him, and he gave the type of tempered advice that only comes with lived experience. But he often lightly mocked me for my crush on Dennis and he did a hilarious impression of Smegal popping too soon over his “precious.” So when Mary “got me back” by doing whatever she did with to Dennis, I called Kadillac Kirk and told him the drinks were on me if he’d be my designated driver for the night.
Why hadn’t I called Whisky??? Well, A) Kirk was way more fun to hang out with, at least from my past experiences up to that point. And B) I needed to bitch about a boy, something I couldn’t do in good conscience in front of a guy I was dating. So I put on the sexiest plunging halter dress I owned, applied heavy eye makeup and spikey accessories, braved a pair of stilettos, and sashayed out to Kirk’s convertible. I felt like a badass rock star. I probably looked like a try-hard hooker.
Kirk: Daaaaay-um! Somebody really did do a number on you, huh? I know you said you were upset, but the gents are gonna be writing thank you notes to that fat girl and that butt-fucking hobbit.
Me: I just need to feel pretty and numb. And I trust you to keep me from making a fool of myself.
Kirk squeezed my shoulder. “I’ve got you. You do whatever you need to do to get rid of these demons.”
He sparked up a J and offered me the first puff. I gladly accepted. He took one puff of his own, but said that the rest was mine since he didn’t want to drive stoned. See? He was responsible! Weed wasn’t legal in California yet, so I got a little bit baked before I stashed the sativa in the glove box and wrapped a scarf around my hair like a starlet from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Kirk sped out of the parking lot and said he was taking me to a downtown hotel that was hosting a party that night in their lush lobby.
Kadillac Kirk pulled up to the main entrance, paid the valet, and then opened my door. I was wobbly from the weed. And I had stupidly decided to wear heels. You can get high or you can wear high (heels). You can’t have both. Not if you’ve repeatedly injured both ankles (as I have). I had to take Kirk’s arm to keep from keeling over. “Can people tell I’m stoned?” I whispered. Kirk replied, “Nobody’s paying any attention to anyone else’s intoxication. I promise you that much.” I nodded, steadied myself, and strutted alongside my very cool friend, feeling a little more confident.
A live jazz orchestra was playing Cole Porter as we entered the lobby. Everything sparkled. The music was even more intoxicating than the spliff had been. “Just One of Those Things” brought tears to my eyes since the lyrics hit every raw nerve regarding the Dennis debacle. But I smiled. It might sound mental, but being distraught over a trash fire of a one-sided romance was exhilarating. Immature, for sure. But also exhilarating. You see, that kind of sadness doesn’t hurt. Not really. It stings. It leaves little bruises, but it’s very safe to wallow in because you haven’t actually lost anything. Melancholia over that which you never had is as sweet as it is bitter; and that type of twisted splendor is rivaled only by Stendhal.
“Here's hoping we meet now and then. It was great fun, but it was just one of those things.” I sang along with the band, and a fat tear rolled down past my melancholic smile and onto my chin. Kirk brushed it aside. “Too close to home?” I wiped away the remnants of the tear’s journey from eye to chin and smiled a more genuine smile. “The perfect distance from home. Shall we get drinks? Remember, I’m buying.”
Kirk: No, no. This is your time to heal. And I’m here as your pal, not your chauffeur. What would the lady like?”
I pretended to barf. Kirk knew I hated it when he got overly formal and overly attentive. So he did it just to mess with me. “Shot of vodka,” I replied.
Kirk: How many?
I thought briefly. “FIVE.”
Kirk: Five to one, baby. One in five...
Me: No one here gets out alive.
Kirk: Are you able to hold yourself upright, or should you come with?
I took a seat on an ornate, damask-upholstered chaise lounge. “I’ll be okay. And I was kidding about the five shots.”
I sat there lost in the music for a while. I thought very little about Dennis. Even less about Mary. And not at all about Whisky (whom I had shagged less than a week ago). My mind danced through the ornate lighting in the hotel lobby, and I suddenly felt the need to join the hoity-toity guests on the dancefloor!
Kirk returned with four shots of vodka. Two for him, two for me. That was quite reasonable of him. He knew damn well that I couldn’t handle five shots, but he also knew that I was in a... state. One that called for more than a single shot. I raised a both miniature glasses to “No more ninnyhammers or hairy-footed lovers.” Kirk did his hilarious Smegal impression, we double-toasted, and downed the shots. The band launched into “Let’s Misbehave,” and I kicked off my stilettos and made a beeline for the dance floor.
“There’s something wild about you child that’s so contagious. Let’s be outrageous! Let’s misbehave.” Kadillac Kirk swept me up, twirled me around, and dipped me as we both sang along with the lyrics. I wasn’t swooning for him, but I was enthralled by the moment. The music, the dancing, the combination of booze and bud... so I kissed him as he pulled me back to my feet. And he kissed back. In a way that Dennis never had. In a way that Whisky’s beard wouldn’t permit. I didn’t feel the visceral sensations that I’d felt when Dennis had kissed me, but it felt nice to feel desired. And then I noticed that other guests were watching us and applauding. Now, that was a dopamine rush if ever there was one!
I gently broke away from the embrace, high-fived Kirk and returned to the chaise lounge to put my stupid shoes back on. He followed me and smashed his face back onto mine. I pulled away and laughed. “It was a moment,” I told him. “I appreciate the dance, and that kiss was the perfect finale. But it’s not happening again.”
Kirk: Not to worry, Valerie. I know you. I knew all along that we were performing, and I was more than happy to be your scene partner.
Me: And dance partner! Those were some excellent moves! I didn’t know you had ballroom training.
Kirk: You name it, I’ve mastered it. Another drink for the lady?
I pretended to barf again. “Not yet. I’m not sad right now. Do you mind if I just sit here and enjoy the music?”
Kirk: Ah. My kisses do have healing properties...
I flipped my hand up at him. “Knock that shit off, bro. I wanted to hang out with you because I trust you not to get weird. Even if I get weird, I know you have the maturity to balance me out.”
Kirk: Are you calling me old???
Me: No. I’m calling you rational, responsible, and respectful.
Kirk: Well, now. If you can articulate an alliterative statement that fluently, then you clearly aren’t drunk enough!
I dismissed this comment as a joke. And he did indeed knock off the flirtation. We had a perfectly pleasant time chatting and dancing (no more kissing, though). And then I noticed a girl I knew from Into the Woods entering the lobby. She’d played Florinda and I’d played Little Red. I called her name and waved enthusiastically. She waved back. And then her date entered. It was D.E.N.N.I.S. I sank into the chaise. Kirk caught on immediately. “The hobbit???” he asked. I nodded silently. “You wanna make out again?” he enthused. I shook my head. I had to go say hello to Flo. And I had an idea...
I crossed the lobby, smiled, squealed, and hugged her.
Florinda: Lil’ Red! It’s been forever! So glad to see you!!! This is my friend, Denny.
Dennis was shifting uncomfortably. I extended my hand. “Nice to meet you. I know your date from Into the Woods. I bet she could tell you some entertaining stories about that show...” Flo laughed out loud, well aware of the many misadventures to which I'd referred. Of course, she might have been laughing because Dennis never, ever listened to anyone else's stories. He was too busy telling, re-telling, slightly altering, and exaggerating his own.
Dennis: C’mon, Val...
Me: Oh, you’ve heard of me? Small world! You guys picked a great night to come here. They’re playing Cole Porter, and the band is delovely!
Florinda (appearing oblivious to the iciness between me and Dennis): Have you seen Prince Big Bad (Scumbanger) lately?
I laughed. “Last time I saw him, he was hitting on some nasty fat chick at The Imp.”
Flo and I both scoffed at the pervy pest. Into the Woods was where I’d initially met Scumbanger. He played The Wolf/Cinderella’s Prince. Again... typecasting. There’s a whole essay in my brain about my first encounter with the pest, during which he quoted the song that he sang to me in the show, “Hello, Little Girl.” But it gets into some pretty uncomfortable territory because he made me feel excited. Well, excited and scared. Nothing of note happened during Into the Woods, but our odd interactions did kind of set the stage for some extremely regrettable events during that Cats cast party.
I excused myself, saying that I needed to get back to my friend. And then I leaned in and said in a hushed voice to Flo, “Watch your ass with that one. If he’s the Denny I’m thinking of...” I gave her a look that only another female would be able to read. Her eyebrows shot up and she nodded. Dennis continued to shift as though he were trying to hold in a massive dump. “BABE! Uh...”
Flo apparently answered to that moniker as well. “What is it, Denny? Don’t worry. That was just telepathic girl talk. You apparently have a reputation...”
Dennis: Different Denny. I assure you I’m a pious gentleman.
Me: Ah. My mistake. Well, then. You guys have a good time! Nice to meet you, Denny. Great to see you, Flo!
I hugged Flo again, gave Dennis a curt nod, ignored the scent of mandarins and mountain air, and returned to Kirk.
I collapsed on the chaise lounge, exhausted from holding back the rage. I had no right to be mad at Florinda. I hadn’t seen her in three years, so how was she supposed to know that I’d had a thing with Dennis? Hell, I couldn’t even be mad at Dennis because the last time he and I had spoken in any meaningful way, I’d told him that I was no longer entertaining my crush on him. So why was I surprised to see him dating??? And why had he never taken ME out on a date like this??? And why wasn’t I smitten with Kadillac Kirk who HAD taken me out on a date like this, was an objectively excellent kisser, and a bona fide BALLER? What was wrong with me???
Kirk suggested going down the street to a quaint little bar and then sobering up at a diner closer to my apartment. I numbly nodded and followed him in silence for a few blocks. He assured me that I had “turned several heads” on the way to the new location, but I neither cared nor believed him. This wasn't the type of numbness I'd been aiming for. Now I needed to get schnockered. “Five shots of vodka, please.” Yes, I was serious.
Kadillac Kirk, my reliable designated driver, ordered only a beer and watched in something across between astonishment, concern, and delight as I slammed all five shots in rapid succession. I half expected to immediately retch all over the bar. But I felt fine. I half expected to immediately lose consciousness and wake up in the hospital. But I remained coherent. How I’d managed to take in that much hard liquor and suffer no direct consequences, I’ll never know.
I think I wanted to suffer. I wanted to either feel nothing at all or to feel a sickness bad enough to distract me from the scorching sting that pulsed through my being when I realized that I had lost the abstract notion I’d been addicted to this entire time. Hope. It wasn’t Dennis himself I couldn’t quit. It was that drug called hope. The hope that maybe, just maybe Dennis would give our romance a fair chance. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would make peace with himself, get his mind out of his crotch, and enjoy some agenda-free togetherness. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would stop bloviating about his admittedly impressive accomplishments for five fucking minutes and ask about my life. I had my own reasonably impressive accomplishments, even if they paled in comparison to his. A proper suitor would have enjoyed hearing about them.
But seeing him out with another woman, a woman who had no reason to parade her Dennis escapades before me as some means of revenge, a woman he was clearly courting of his own volition... My hope had died. It died before I’d had time to wean myself off it. Now I had to mourn the loss of hope, which is a very tricky brand of grief to navigate. Vodka wasn’t the answer, but it was what I had to work with. So it would have to do.
After enough time had passed without vomiting or collapsing, I asked Kirk to bring his car around to the bar so that I didn’t have to walk two and a half blocks drunk and in heels. He nodded and dramatically leaned in for a kiss. I recoiled. “DUDE! I told you. The moment has passed.”
Kirk: I beg your pardon. I misread your eyes. Thought I saw a green light...
Me: It’s fine. I just want to go home while I’m still feeling okay.
Kirk: Of course. Your chariot will be here soon.
He skipped off to fetch his Cadillac and I noticed that the lights in the bar were beginning to dance a bit. This should have been concerning. But then I realized that I was giggling. Wait... What? Oh shit. Sure, I was drunk from those shots. But what I was feeling in that moment wasn’t drunkery. It was stonery. Kirk probably misread my face because my pupils were dilated. Not from desire, but from drug use.
Some of you might be thinking that I was a bad friend for not introducing Lucy, an old dude connoisseur, to Kirk. Well... I did. Several years before the events of this story. He adored her. She, on the other hand, thought he was immature. And she wasn’t wrong. Lucy was astute when it came to sussing out a person’s true nature. Far more astute than I. Her initial assessment that Kirk was immature is about to be vindicated. Stretch those cringe muscles! It’s almost time for pie...
I somehow managed to get to his car. I honestly don’t recall how I got there. Did one of the bartenders carry me? Did some kind patron allow me to lean on him? Had Kadillac Kirk carried me out? I’m not sure. But my memory ceases to be fuzzy about halfway to the 24-hour diner. It might have been the very same 24-hour diner where Mary pulled her... shenanigans. I’ll never know.
Kirk: Would you say that you’re more drunk or more stoned?
Me: STONED. Definitely stoned.
Kirk made some sort of grunty noise and reached for my thigh. I slapped his hand.
Kirk: Stoned but not amorous? That’s rare.
I started laughing rather unkindly. “You’re a fucking horndog! I thought you were my safe straight male friend, dammit.”
Kirk: I solemnly swear that your safety is my primary concern, my stoned beauty.
I pretended to throw up.
Kirk: So... You’re not horny. But are you hungry? The diner I’m heading to makes this Maple Walnut Pie with the most sumptuous... sensual cream and exquisite drizzling of...
Me: Ew! Stop trying to bang the pie. Bro. Are YOU stoned? (Then I remembered the question.) Yes, I’m hungry. But I don’t like nuts. I’ll have banana cream.
Kirk made that repulsive grunty noise again. “Uhhhhh... Mmmmmm. Cream. Yessssss. Yes, we’ll be there in just a minute.” He was squirming in the driver's seat.
Me: GROSS, DUDE! If you’re gonna be like that I’ll just order HASH brows. Get it? Hash??? (I giggled uncontrollably.). You can’t make that sound nasty.
Kirk: Forgive my jokes. I think my blood sugar’s a bit low.
As Kirk parked, I began to wonder how I might get away with walking shoeless into the diner. The stilettos had to get off my feet. At least while I was walking. And Kirk was kind enough to give me his socks and wear his loafers “island style” into the establishment. Okay, that was gallant of him. Maybe he was going to behave himself for the rest of the evening.
I wasn’t terribly talkative as we sat down, and he expressed concern for my emotional well-being. I wasn’t coherent enough to explain what was happening to my emotions and I wasn’t sure I trusted him with my deep, dark secrets at that point. So I shrugged like a sulky teenager, ran my hands over my messy, windblown hair, and mumbled that I was “just hungry.” And right on cue, a very kind, slightly older waitress with a sweet southern accent stopped by to take our order.
Kirk: Ah, yes. We’ll have two cups of black coffee. And we’ll share a slice of that delectable Maple Walnut Pie.
Waitress: Oh, honey. That pie is scrumptious! I take it you’ve been here before?
Kirk: I have. This will be her first time to taste the splendor.
I hated to be a killjoy, but I interrupted and said to the waitress, “Ma’am? I’m sure the Maple Walnut is excellent, but could I please get a slice of Banana Cream? And a big glass of ice water?
Waitress: Sure, hon! Banana Cream’s just as yummy! I’ll be right back with those coffees and that big water.
Kirk was sucking on the tip of his forefinger and shaking his head a bit. “You’re passing up so many sensational... sensual...”
I put my forehead on the table and growled. “You swore you’d stop being nasty!” I held this #headdesk pose for quite some time before I finally lifted my head... only to see that Kirk was still sucking his fingertip and staring at me like a wild animal. “Pleeeeeease be normal,” I whined. “It’s been a really weird night for me.”
Kirk: Indeed. Many surprises. You know... You’re like titanium. Your flame burns so fast and so bright, if a guy doesn’t get in there while the iron is hot, he’ll never get another chance. I was too slow.
What the...? I was pretty sure he was wrong about titanium burning quickly. I’m no chemistry wiz, but my dad and my oldest brother are both big-brains when it comes to physics and chemistry. So I picked up some things just listening to them talk. Accurate or inaccurate, Kirk was being creepy again. He’d never been creepy towards me before, although I’d seen him act like this with other women. Usually with staggering success. Why????? His money. It had to be his money. Kirk was a nice-looking man, but holy shit... No amount of good looks could save this creep show.
And then, our sweet waitress sat down our coffees, my water, and the two slices of pie. After I gulped down a whole bunch of water, I grabbed a fork, prepared to quell my munchies... and then I froze. Kirk was quickly flicking his finger back and forth across the top of his pie. And moaning. He noticed my wide-eyed stare, smirked, sucked the tip of his thumb, picked up the plate with both hands, and began flicking his tongue across the tip of the triangular pie slice. And moaning some more. Well, there went my appetite.
Kirk took his middle finger and jabbed it into the crustless vertex of the pie slice, then he began pumping it in and out like a piston, and flicking his thumb across the increasingly demolished top layer of whipped cream. He gasped this time. People were starting to stare. His pointer finger joined his middle finger in the piston action, and he replaced his thumb with his tongue. Between flicks of the tongue, he groaned, “Oh yeah, baby... Let me taste you,” but it was kind of hard to understand him.
And I was either about to run to the back office, tell them that I was in danger and needed a police escort home... OR I was about to burst out laughing at the spectacle. Kirk continued... He removed his fingers and gregariously licked pie filling off of them. And then he started sucking his fingertips again, switching from middle to pointer, middle to pointer and emitting a delighted little, “Mmmmmm” with every suck.
Finally, he jabbed his fingers back into the utterly destroyed pie, lowered his face into the mess and lapped loudly and passionately, moaning, grunting, and mumbling “Come on, baby. Come on. Mmmmmm. Come on.” I could see the waitress and some dude in a suit heading over to the table, so I sank down in my seat, partially covered my face, but continued to watch the train wreck. At last, Kirk shuddered violently, he splatted his entire hand onto the plate and rubbed furiously. And then he locked eyes with me. He sucked the tip of his thumb one final time and said, “You...” There was a long pause during which Kirk lovingly stroked the mess he’d made. “You... are the pie.”
I don’t hang out with Kadillac Kirk anymore. But he’s still a bachelor, ladies!

Team of the Season. What a name it has, and along with TOTY, we get to see some of most overpowered, yet well-deserved cards. However, it is as if EA is telling the users that its only intention is to make money. The only spark of brilliance it showed throughout the whole season was the Bayer Leverkusen TOTS upgrade SBC, aside from the absolutely disgusting pack weight (no Grimaldo or Frimpong to be seen). It's as if creativity costs them fortunes. New and original ideas are nowhere to be seen, and the company is still raking in insane amount of money.
With Serie A TOTS coming soon and probs ultimate TOTS after that, I wonder how many more boring SBCs and store packs they will release without any new content.
To sum it all up, FUCK YOU EA.

Hey,
Got arrested at a crawfish festival last week for PI, a guy approached me at a table said I was making a mess and started raising his voice telling me to leave, I started laughing at him while walking away and he keeps coming towards me while we exchanged words, nothing violent just the “common language” that would be used. This whole event was maybe 30 seconds long with me walking away while the guy keeps following me, maybe 20 seconds after that he ran to the police in the golf cart apparently stating that I was “being violent and starting fights” as what the cops explained to me.
To give background on my level of intoxication I had been there roughly 2 hours and had 3 twisted teas, was not intoxicated to even the slightest point.
The 5 police officers come to me and I tell them exactly what I just said. They ask me my age (I’m 22) I tell them this and I give them my name. One of the officers begins threatening me by telling me I’m going to get a felony for lying because I wasn’t showing in their system. At this point I start getting frustrated with the police explaining “I know how old I am and I told you my exact first middle and last name I’m not lying to you” this went back and forth maybe 3 minutes. The cops start saying I’m visibly drunk and that my breath smells of alcohol, they said this several times. Each time I said “I didn’t have a single drink.” Then they would respond “I can smell it from here” meanwhile it’s a completely outdoor event and completely windy also and I was stuffing my face with crawfish anyway. I denied me drinking anything at all. To me, it seems the cops thought I was underage as they also said this multiple times, I left my ID at my friends car because there’s no needs typically to ever have it unless you plan on buying anything extra. My friend was actively going to the truck to get my wallet and ID and the cop wouldn’t wait the 5 minutes it would take to get it. After the police said I didn’t show up on their system they locked me up for PI (public intoxication) I got booked and spent 6 hours in jail (completely bored) I live in Texas and this is considered a class c misdemeanor.
I have no other record besides 2 parking tickets and a speeding ticket.
I was cooperative with the police telling them my correct information and not resisting anything.
I was charged with a public intoxication.
I have court in 2 weeks and the maximum fine is $500 which I know is likely to be 1/2-1/3 what I would spend for a lawyer. I do want it expunged at best dismissed at worse.
The whole case is just BS and I would like advice on what to do moving forward, would pushing back the court date help? I know people do this for traffic citations and as it’s a class c misdemeanor I think I could do it(I also kind of don’t want to do this because I wanted to do a summer job in a different state.
All in all I just don’t know what to do now as I don’t have much money and from my understanding there isn’t a solid case against me at all besides them smelling something.