Awesome cell phone signatures
Metal Concerts: Meet-ups, memories, etc.
2012.03.31 20:02 Ghost_Eh_Blinkin Metal Concerts: Meet-ups, memories, etc.
2011.12.21 00:32 Feels: A place for you to feel
The subreddit for all your feels, grab that box of tissues cause you'll need them.
2024.05.22 01:17 cork76 Is there anyway to connect two separate numbers files?
For example if I have one master file with people’s information, address, phone etc and I want to populate some cells in a separate file with certain peopless information, is there a way to connect the two?
submitted by cork76 to AppleNumbers [link] [comments]
2024.05.22 01:11 lcihon40 Private number
Wondering if anyone else is experiencing the same issue. Yesterday my phone (S22 Ultra) receiving caller ID normally on incoming calls. Today my boyfriend calls me and it comes up private number. He is on the same cell plan with T-Mobile. His phone (OnePlus 7) is having the same issue on incoming calls from his son who is also on our cell plan. I wonder if it is a system wide issue? Nothing has changed on any of the phones since yesterday.
submitted by lcihon40 to T_mobile_ [link] [comments]
2024.05.22 00:57 TH3R3V3R3ND [WTS][USA-OH][H]19 pairs of headphones bundle - Sony, Klipsch, Bose, Sennheiser, and more [W] Paypal G+S
Howdy folks,
Before we get into it, first post here, please lmk if I did any formatting wrong or need additional pics/etc, thanks! No flair here as you can see but I'm +67 transactions on Knife_Swap and I've been on reddit for over a decade so deal with confidence.
Anyway I'm trying to clear out all my unused low-mid tier headphones, predominantly wired earbuds, in a bundle for one (I'm hoping anyway), unbeatably low price. None of this is audiophile stuff; msrps ranged from included with various cell phones up to $300 range for the Sonys. Altogether I have 15 sets of wired earbuds, 2 pairs of bluetooth earbuds, and two pairs of over ear bluetooth phones. All are used to varying degrees but function normally, the sony xm buds and over ears are in excellent condition along with the older sony over ears. No original packaging included for any items. I have, as pictured, a ton of random replacement ear tips for most of the earbuds - no guarantees on compatibility or completeness, but there's a ton there and most of them are cross compatible I have no doubts everyone can find their fit amongst the selection.
SV for the whole bundle (not looking to separate at this time): $200
Timestamp
Additional pics
Product listing:
submitted by TH3R3V3R3ND to AVexchange [link] [comments]
Before we get into it, first post here, please lmk if I did any formatting wrong or need additional pics/etc, thanks! No flair here as you can see but I'm +67 transactions on Knife_Swap and I've been on reddit for over a decade so deal with confidence.
Anyway I'm trying to clear out all my unused low-mid tier headphones, predominantly wired earbuds, in a bundle for one (I'm hoping anyway), unbeatably low price. None of this is audiophile stuff; msrps ranged from included with various cell phones up to $300 range for the Sonys. Altogether I have 15 sets of wired earbuds, 2 pairs of bluetooth earbuds, and two pairs of over ear bluetooth phones. All are used to varying degrees but function normally, the sony xm buds and over ears are in excellent condition along with the older sony over ears. No original packaging included for any items. I have, as pictured, a ton of random replacement ear tips for most of the earbuds - no guarantees on compatibility or completeness, but there's a ton there and most of them are cross compatible I have no doubts everyone can find their fit amongst the selection.
SV for the whole bundle (not looking to separate at this time): $200
Timestamp
Additional pics
Product listing:
- Sony wh1000xm3 over ears
- Sony wf1000xm3 wireless buds
- Sony mdrxb950bt over ears
- Jabra 65t wireless earbuds
- Tozo T12 wireless earbuds
- Apple EarPods X2 - 3.5 mm and lightning cable
- Vmoda forza Metallo earbuds
- Klipsch r6i earbuds
- Sony mdr xb50 earbuds
- Sony ex300 earbuds
- JVC XX series earbuds x2 pairs
- Unknown model Klipsch earbuds
- Unknown model AKC earbuds
- Sennheiser cx685 adidas earbuds
- Unknown Skullcandy earbuds
- Bose SoundSport earbuds x 2 pairs
2024.05.22 00:53 lawn_mower_ Cell phone photo of a Ferrari parked on some grass
 | submitted by lawn_mower_ to shootingcars [link] [comments] |
2024.05.22 00:51 rathergreat So the government is really just some monkeys in people clothes?
Lol at the sim card registration even the main smart store told me its impossible for foreigners to register sim without first buying fraud paper work to submit as a plane ticket. Jesus christ the level of insantiy here.. Do I have to be the one to inform the gov that people need cell phones without being forced to do fraud 🤣
submitted by rathergreat to Philippines [link] [comments]
2024.05.22 00:48 GenieGrumblefish As expected, here we go.
The experts on women, the Cult followers are trying to insinuate one of Mauras sisters killed her.
The incident where she is escorted to her dorm, now it was a set up to disappear the following Monday.
Now, forget Perp insisted for years she got upset after a chat with Kathleen. Perp and fam let this stand until they were left with no choice but to prove that was bullshit, that oops, it was after she speaks to him, she's devastated.
Then after this we have Perp calling a hotel line and talking on his phone non stop for two days all while claiming no cell service on the base, but weirdly no one who's claiming to be a journalist gives a shit about this discrepancy.
Maura Murray was stalked for days and murdered.
Perps phone is also silent during the accident.
His next call, the MINUTE Cecil pulls up, Perp is calling his Dad, back on the road. I maintain Maura is dead by the time this call is made.
Stop engaging with these people who are trying to now victimize the remaining sister. It's 1000 times worse than insinuating Fred was a molester.
It would be so funny if it wasn't so pathetic. And predictable.
submitted by GenieGrumblefish to MauraMurraySolved [link] [comments]
The incident where she is escorted to her dorm, now it was a set up to disappear the following Monday.
Now, forget Perp insisted for years she got upset after a chat with Kathleen. Perp and fam let this stand until they were left with no choice but to prove that was bullshit, that oops, it was after she speaks to him, she's devastated.
Then after this we have Perp calling a hotel line and talking on his phone non stop for two days all while claiming no cell service on the base, but weirdly no one who's claiming to be a journalist gives a shit about this discrepancy.
Maura Murray was stalked for days and murdered.
Perps phone is also silent during the accident.
His next call, the MINUTE Cecil pulls up, Perp is calling his Dad, back on the road. I maintain Maura is dead by the time this call is made.
Stop engaging with these people who are trying to now victimize the remaining sister. It's 1000 times worse than insinuating Fred was a molester.
It would be so funny if it wasn't so pathetic. And predictable.
2024.05.22 00:44 Far-War-3804 C05 DEAD DEEP STATER TRIES TRICKING AIR FORCE OFFICER TO BOMB GITMO. ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE MASQUERADING as the LATE WAR CRIMINAL LLOYD AUSTIN tried in VAIN TO COMVINCE a HIGH-RANKING AIR FORCE BOMB WING COMMANDER to LAUNCH A MASSIVE AIRSTRIKE AGAINST GUANTANAMO BAY, February 25, 2024.
 | https://preview.redd.it/t5xa65siyu1d1.jpg?width=700&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=07b7227c0600bd572a79993f5a95d02f7d5043cd submitted by Far-War-3804 to CourtofAges [link] [comments] C05 DEAD DEEP STATER TRIES TRICKING AIR FORCE OFFICER TO BOMB GITMO. ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE MASQUERADING as the LATE WAR CRIMINAL LLOYD AUSTIN tried in VAIN TO COMVINCE a HIGH-RANKING AIR FORCE BOMB WING COMMANDER to LAUNCH A MASSIVE AIRSTRIKE AGAINST GUANTANAMO BAY, February 25, 2024. Artificial Intelligence masquerading as the late war criminal Lloyd Austin tried in vain to convince a high-ranking Air Force bomb wing commander to launch a massive airstrike against Guantanamo Bay this week, claiming that insurrectionist officers loyal to Trump had commandeered and were using the base to wage war on the Biden administration, a source in General Eric M. Smith’s office told Real Raw News. Unfortunately for the illegal regime, the AI’s programmer had either forgotten or wasn’t told that the real Austin had, in mid-2023, pressured the same officer, 509th Bomb Wing Commander Col. Keith Butler, to sortie a B-2 Spirit assault on GITMO’s command and control buildings, an order Col. Butler refused. According to our source, the then-alive Austin took umbrage at Butler’s refusal and threatened to brand him a traitor and convene a Court-Martial against him. But Butler had chuckled at the orders, saying that Austin was in fact the traitor and an illegitimate secretary of defense, a tool of the cabal. By then, Col. Butler had forsaken the regime and taken an oath before General Eric M. Smith to uphold the Constitution of the United States. He had pledged to support the last legitimate commander-in-chief, President Donald J. Trump, and to eschew unlawful regime directives. Nonetheless, on Thursday, February 22, Col. Butler at Whitman Airforce Base, Missouri, received an email ordering him to appear in full military dress on a video call with Austin the following morning. The message, however, had been sent by John Kirby, a retired Navy rear admiral turned Deep State asset, who, as Communications Director of the NSC, held no authority over Col. Butler. The colonel challenged the email, writing back asking why Austin hadn’t personally contacted him, to which Kirby reportedly replied, “Secretary Austin is a busy man. I am conveying his orders to you, under his authority.” Unbeknownst to Kirby, apparently, Butler already knew that Lloyd Austin was killed by a Russian cruise missile strike in Ukraine in January, confirmed by DNA evidence the FSB, Russia’s Federal Security Service, had forwarded to General Smith’s offices. Col. Butler notified Gen. Smith about the Deep State’s attempt at subterfuge. “You take that video conference, colonel, and record it, and I’ll have our guys get a look at it. We have every reason to believe Austin’s dead, but I’d still like a look at whoever’s claiming to be him,” Gen. Smith told Col. Butler on a phone call. When Col. Butler saw “Austin” on a computer screen, he knew he was speaking with a fraud. The simulation’s tonality, dialect, and cadence perfectly matched Austin’s, but its appearance had indicators of fakery. His prescription glasses were the wrong shape—octagonal instead of circular lenses, and his face was too slender, as though someone had manipulated it in Photoshop. Moreover, the genuine Austin had always worn an American flag pin on the left lapel of his suit jacket. Col. Butler noticed it on the right lapel. Moreover, Austin’s eyes were a lighter shade of brown, and his ears had grown almost as conspicuously as large as Obama’s. The most obvious giveaway, however, was Austin having absolutely no memory of Col. Butler’s past insubordination. “The Deep Fake talked to him like they were old pals for about ten minutes before getting to the meat of the matter, and Col. Butler initially played along with it. At least until he wanted Col. Butler to blow part of GITMO to bits,” our source said. “Colonel Butler, you are hereby ordered to immediately scramble two B-2 squadrons to target Guantanamo Bay, target packages to be forwarded presently. In short, GITMO has been seized by dissident military forces that still Obey Donald Trump. Targets to include the command nexus but not, I repeat not, the detention cells. Assets must also destroy any Naval vessels berthed there, as their commanders have been compromised,” the simulation said, mispronouncing Butler’s last name, placing emphasis on the “u” as one would pronounce “Ferris Bueller.” “Secretary Austin, you’re aware this is not SOP for issuing orders of any kind, aren’t you?” Col. Butler said. “These orders come directly from POTUS, Joseph R. Biden,” the Austin simulation replied. “You don’t remember us having this identical conversation several months ago, do you?” Col. Butler said. The simulated face went silent for a minute; its AI must have been trying to adapt to the conversation and formulate a proper, believable response. It then said, “Of course, I remember. But it went unfinished. That’s why we have it again, Col. Butler,” the fake Austin said. Col. Butler called the bluff. “I will not obey that order. I know Austin’s dead, and you’re not him. Who exactly over there is listening to this conversation?” The conversation terminated at its source, which U.S. Marine Corps Forces Cyberspace Command later determined to be an IP address tied to an NSC satellite office in Bakersfield, California. “This is more evidence Austin’s dead,” our source said. “What’s crazy is a 12-year-old using Midjourney could’ve conjured better AI. The Deep State has clones and trained body doubles, and this is what the offered up to pretend to be Austin? They’ve a lot to learn. They’re regressing, it seems.” |
2024.05.22 00:42 TurbulentMinute4290 How did Spencer afford the apartment and website for the web show
I know Spencer was also paying for The website icarly.com which is and this is by chatgpt to take this with a grain of salt but would coast $31,960 to $129,100 per year That's for the website. The Wi-Fi everything to be able to run the web show
We know that the apartment has like three levels at a studio which is on the top floor then the second floor Carly's bedroom and there's another bedroom on the same floor. Not sure if there's a bathroom but maybe there is
Then there's the first four with Spencer's bedroom, a bathroom, the living room, and the kitchen
How could Spencer being an artist afford the apartment with the elevator be able to run the show and have the internet to be able to do so mind you that they pay for cable and they pay a cell phone plan because Spencer and Carly both have cell phones
So how do they manage to pay for all of that? Is there some sort of discount cuz the father being like in the Air Force very curious how much an apartment like that would have costed back then
We do know that it costed $82,000 to redo Carly's bedroom when it burned down because of the gummy bear lamp That was her birthday present from Spencer
submitted by TurbulentMinute4290 to icarly [link] [comments]
We know that the apartment has like three levels at a studio which is on the top floor then the second floor Carly's bedroom and there's another bedroom on the same floor. Not sure if there's a bathroom but maybe there is
Then there's the first four with Spencer's bedroom, a bathroom, the living room, and the kitchen
How could Spencer being an artist afford the apartment with the elevator be able to run the show and have the internet to be able to do so mind you that they pay for cable and they pay a cell phone plan because Spencer and Carly both have cell phones
So how do they manage to pay for all of that? Is there some sort of discount cuz the father being like in the Air Force very curious how much an apartment like that would have costed back then
We do know that it costed $82,000 to redo Carly's bedroom when it burned down because of the gummy bear lamp That was her birthday present from Spencer
2024.05.22 00:36 Negative_Loan_6511 [Button mobile] [2000-2006?] [JAVA?] Woman with guns killing robots
Hello, I need help finding a game that I played on a push-button cell phone as a child. it was 2006, I think, or something around that year, my uncle once installed it on my mobile but unfortunately I don't have it anymore, it was a Sony Ericsson. in that game it was about making levels, you played as a girl who had guns, and the enemies were mostly yellow robots that looked similar to R2D2 but bigger, I don't know how to describe it because it's been a long time, but if anyone knows thank you, I have bouts of nostalgia and I need to quiet them down
submitted by Negative_Loan_6511 to tipofmyjoystick [link] [comments]
2024.05.22 00:35 SalamanderSad2859 Very confused, is this an actual person who got the wrong number?
 | There was this girl who texted me “Tina, I got the lipstick you sent me. Thanks. Come to my place for dinner tomorrow night. Steak or fish?” And i immediately thought it was a scam, so I just went along with it. After talking to this girl for a while, I realized that she’s probably an actual person who got the wrong number. I said some false information and I talked a lot about money. She started to seem annoyed by the talk of money, so she said “I am not a money-minded woman, I am not short of money, I just feel that if you have a chance to know, if you talk, you can become friends.” And I was low key confused, I thought she was a scammer. I tried apologizing to her, she said “I’m not sure if we should be friends anymore, bye.” After that, she blocked me. Also, she sent me her face, but I feel like it could be fake or heavily filtered. submitted by SalamanderSad2859 to Scams [link] [comments] |
2024.05.22 00:34 Open-that-door [WTS][USA-CA] Entire Spartan Plate Carrier Setup & AXL, Blackhawk BULK accessories for Crye Precision Bundle
Image: https://imgur.com/a/Q5ZSzN5
$200 shipped Everything You See here to your door.
Spartan Armor Systems "Spartan" Shooters Cut Plate Carrier(Black) asked for $60 shipped.
Emerson Gear Tactical Dump Drop Pouch Bag Multicamo Tool Pouch (Black) asked for $20 shipped.
Elite Spanker Tactical MOLLE Hydration Pack for 3L Hydration Water Bladder asked for $30 shipped.
Thyrm DarkVault Comms Critical Gear Case, Waterproof, Attachable to MOLLE Rugged Storage for Cell Phone, GPS, Tools asked for $30 shipped.
Condor Elite MA44-002 Triple Stacker M4 Mag Pouch Black asked for $20 shipped.
M-Series 300 Round Hi-Cap AEG Airsoft Magazines x3 asked for $28 shipped.
Acetech Tracer BBs (Approx 2700 Count) 0.25g asked for $19 shipped, it has been stored in a dark environment.
***********************************************
Bundle 2: $100 to take out everything shipped for items in All AXL, MOS & Blackhawk items.
AXL Admin Zipper for the Crye Precision® JPC™ Medium / Multicam x1 asked for $27 shipped.
AXL Placard Conversion for Crye Front Flaps x1 asked for $30 shipped.
MOS Tactical Winglets™ Radio/Utility Pouch x2/1 pair Color: Multicam asked for $45 shipped.
Blackhawk S.T.R.I.K.E.® Gen.4 Flashbang Pouch - MOLLE Color: Multicam: $22 shipped.
Sale only in CONUS, Paypal G&S only.
submitted by Open-that-door to airsoftmarket [link] [comments]
$200 shipped Everything You See here to your door.
You can choose item combinations between bundles 1 & 2 if they are worth >$100 or close to that, don't hesitate to get in touch with me. Items availability will be updated accordingly, by the way, I have also put it all over the net.
Bundle 1: *Quit Airsoft* - Entire Plate Carrier Setup, for $150 shipped Take Out Everything.Spartan Armor Systems "Spartan" Shooters Cut Plate Carrier(Black) asked for $60 shipped.
Emerson Gear Tactical Dump Drop Pouch Bag Multicamo Tool Pouch (Black) asked for $20 shipped.
Elite Spanker Tactical MOLLE Hydration Pack for 3L Hydration Water Bladder asked for $30 shipped.
Thyrm DarkVault Comms Critical Gear Case, Waterproof, Attachable to MOLLE Rugged Storage for Cell Phone, GPS, Tools asked for $30 shipped.
Condor Elite MA44-002 Triple Stacker M4 Mag Pouch Black asked for $20 shipped.
M-Series 300 Round Hi-Cap AEG Airsoft Magazines x3 asked for $28 shipped.
Acetech Tracer BBs (Approx 2700 Count) 0.25g asked for $19 shipped, it has been stored in a dark environment.
***********************************************
Bundle 2: $100 to take out everything shipped for items in All AXL, MOS & Blackhawk items.
AXL Admin Zipper for the Crye Precision® JPC™ Medium / Multicam x1 asked for $27 shipped.
AXL Placard Conversion for Crye Front Flaps x1 asked for $30 shipped.
MOS Tactical Winglets™ Radio/Utility Pouch x2/1 pair Color: Multicam asked for $45 shipped.
Blackhawk S.T.R.I.K.E.® Gen.4 Flashbang Pouch - MOLLE Color: Multicam: $22 shipped.
Sale only in CONUS, Paypal G&S only.
2024.05.22 00:25 webothcouldlive Found NSFW pic on 8 year old daughter tablet
Like the title said, (Im 38) was checking something on my daughter's tablet and accidentally deleted a picture. So I went to the 'files' to undo it and saw a NSFW picture in the 'trash'. I kind of lost it, not with her, but in my mind. Terrible things running through my head. Questioning my parenting. Finally got to sleep. After work the next day my wife and I sat her down and talked. It took a while for her to "remember," but eventually she came clean. She says she was just curious, which I know is normal. If cell phones were a thing when I was growing up I would probably done the same thing. I feel like we had a good conversation and we explained all the dangers of nude pics. I guess I'm just freaking out over my little girl. Anyone else dealt with something similar?
submitted by webothcouldlive to Parenting [link] [comments]
2024.05.22 00:18 liberaltilltheend Want a phone that won't lag and takes good photos
Short rant and context: Bought OP11 just 5 months. Had high expectations since it was my first flagship. Now looking to buy a new phone because this one is laggy as hell. Like when there's a video call, the screen just turns blank or phone starts lagging when I put the call to floating window. Apps refuse to exit or go back frequently. Camera crashes when clicking photos in low light conditions.
So looking for a phone that has an awesome camera for photography and will not lag for atleast 3-4 years.
Considered iPhone, But IOS is off-putting whenever I try. Thinking of Galaxy Ultra 24, but not sure if it is too much phone for me as I don't game or edit videos or do any heavy duty stuff using my phone.
submitted by liberaltilltheend to PickAnAndroidForMe [link] [comments]
So looking for a phone that has an awesome camera for photography and will not lag for atleast 3-4 years.
Considered iPhone, But IOS is off-putting whenever I try. Thinking of Galaxy Ultra 24, but not sure if it is too much phone for me as I don't game or edit videos or do any heavy duty stuff using my phone.
2024.05.22 00:18 emmalouharris Tips for short-term parking at Logan...just picking up a passenger.
My 83-year-old mother is flying into Logan tomorrow at 5PM. (Oof) She has a cell phone but struggles to use it. Ordinarily, my partner and I drive to the airport. My partner stays behind the wheel of our car (either at curbside or in the cell phone lot) and I go inside and retrieve my mother at baggage claim. But my partner is out of town, so I'm going it alone tomorrow. Does anyone have any tips for parking 1 to 2 hours at Logan? I looked online and it looks like the Central Garage is my best bet, but I've only done that once in 12 years of living here and it was very odd/bizarre experience. Cars were double and triple parked all over the place, and a security guard asked for my keys while I was exiting my car "in case she needed to move it." I had my 80-pound dog in the backseat, so the security person understood why this was unwise. Everything worked out, but the memory looms large in my mind. But maybe it was just a freak incident? I've considered taking the MBTA to Logan and then cabbing back to Davis with my Mom. Is that excessive? Am I overthinking all of this? Probably. Oh and my back went out recently, so hauling her luggage back to Somerville on the MBTA is not an option for me right now.
submitted by emmalouharris to Somerville [link] [comments]
2024.05.22 00:16 SupremeDictatorPaul LTE/5G hotspot with QoS for car trip
Looking for device suggestions.
Spouse has planned an insane month long road trip with kids, and I'd like to provide basic internet in the car for the various phones, iPads, and Switches. I was thinking the easiest way to provide enough internet for various games to work, while preventing sucking up all of the internet plan would be to get a mobile hotspot that has some basic QoS to limit each device to <1Mbps each.
An ideal device would be one that:
submitted by SupremeDictatorPaul to HomeNetworking [link] [comments]
Spouse has planned an insane month long road trip with kids, and I'd like to provide basic internet in the car for the various phones, iPads, and Switches. I was thinking the easiest way to provide enough internet for various games to work, while preventing sucking up all of the internet plan would be to get a mobile hotspot that has some basic QoS to limit each device to <1Mbps each.
An ideal device would be one that:
- Supports LTE and/or 5G cell service
- Powered by USB in the car
- QoS each device to limit to <1Mbps (or whatever speed)
- Can be managed while on the road
- Wi-Fi to cover the car
2024.05.22 00:09 SoapieDude Is there anything I can do to use my laptop in place of a cell phone?
I've gone down to a dumb phone, and it occurs to me that I still pull it out and use it far too much. I wouldn't mind carrying a backpack as most of the time I can't be on my laptop (though could be if the need really arose). I have a Google Voice number and a Dell Yoga 9 laptop. What would I need to do in order to ditch the dumb phone entirely and use the laptop in its place?
submitted by SoapieDude to dumbphones [link] [comments]
2024.05.22 00:07 Asian2theoscar The thing I look forward to
Hello fellow apes
It's been an awesome 3+ years so far. I've had the craziest ups and downs. I've experienced the first run up, and the latest one. I've learned more about the financial market on this sub than any finance/ economy class I took in university. A real veteran you could say.
I have HODL-ed through everything just with one goal in mind. Retiring my mother. Many of us probably share the same dream. I come from an immigrant family and she worked her ass off to raise me and my sister alone. She is the only hero I look up to in life. My heart sometimes aches because I can't give her TIME, time to travel, time to have fun, time to relax, time to spend with her children. But we all know that time can be bought. So I'm HODLING not only for my mother, but for EVERY SINGLE APEs MOTHER out there. We have been through a lot, but when the MOASS happens and we sell a share for phone numbers. We will be able to see that smile we longed for our entire lives.
All I want to say to my fellow apes who eat crayons on the daily, the apes who put bananas up their booty hole, the DD apes, the apes with wife bofriends and many more restarded apes. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart ❤️🦧🦍 Let's become some fucking GORRILIONAIRS!
Ape strong together 💪 Ape help Ape Power to the players I like the stock I'm not a cat
submitted by Asian2theoscar to Superstonk [link] [comments]
It's been an awesome 3+ years so far. I've had the craziest ups and downs. I've experienced the first run up, and the latest one. I've learned more about the financial market on this sub than any finance/ economy class I took in university. A real veteran you could say.
I have HODL-ed through everything just with one goal in mind. Retiring my mother. Many of us probably share the same dream. I come from an immigrant family and she worked her ass off to raise me and my sister alone. She is the only hero I look up to in life. My heart sometimes aches because I can't give her TIME, time to travel, time to have fun, time to relax, time to spend with her children. But we all know that time can be bought. So I'm HODLING not only for my mother, but for EVERY SINGLE APEs MOTHER out there. We have been through a lot, but when the MOASS happens and we sell a share for phone numbers. We will be able to see that smile we longed for our entire lives.
All I want to say to my fellow apes who eat crayons on the daily, the apes who put bananas up their booty hole, the DD apes, the apes with wife bofriends and many more restarded apes. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart ❤️🦧🦍 Let's become some fucking GORRILIONAIRS!
Ape strong together 💪 Ape help Ape Power to the players I like the stock I'm not a cat
2024.05.22 00:05 itsauntiechristen Disappointed in long distance cubs making offers they cannot fulfill
I would have chosen "Venting" for my flair but it did not appear as an option. This is NOT a "seeking" post so cubs, DO NOT DM me if we don't already know each other. I will just delete it. Here is my "disappointment" story:
I am a Cougar (51F) and I posted my info on one of the "seeking" posts in the appropriate subreddit a couple of weeks ago. I specifically said that I was looking to meet a cub within 2 hours driving distance of me for a FWB type relationship. I am poly with a couple of partners but no one with this specific dynamic. Of course I got quite a few messages and I hit it off really well with one guy - but he lives 5 hours drive from me. To me, this was actually NBD because I don't mind road trips. He drives a lot for work so if HE came to see ME, he wanted to fly. Ok - fine.
I should have looked up the dates before I started typing so forgive the vagueness. But I texted quite a bit with this guy over the course of about 2 weeks and we talked on the phone once for 4 hours. It felt like we had a unique connection and there was definitely mutual attraction there. He told me he was "talking with" one other Cougar he met on Reddit and they had met for lunch once but it wasn't serious. So...I was getting excited to meet him and see if we vibes as well in person as we did via text and phone. We started planning for me to visit him on Memorial Day Weekend.
Then last week (I believe) he texted me to ask if I had bought tickets or made reservations yet. He said he had had lunch with the other woman - who lives within 2 hours of him - and she asked if they could be exclusive and he said "yes." Of course this is his choice and I respected it, but I DID ask some questions because I felt like it came out if nowhere. I said something like, "You are willing to be exclusive with someone you have met only twice and not even made out with?" To which he replied, "I never said we hadn't made out." OH. Okay. That's a bit different. 😞
I told him I was disappointed and that I felt like he had downplayed his interest in the other woman when getting to know me. But I had NOT made any reservations so I wasn't out any money. Then - he blocked my cell number, and blocked me on Instagram AND Reddit! Holy crap! That just felt mean and unnecessary!!
So I shook it off (took a couple of days) and went on with my life. Started talking with another cub from Reddit - again - he is a 2 hour PLANE ride away but not a quick car trip. Hmmm. I have tried to take it slower with this guy. We have also been communicating for about 2 weeks now, and the first week he seemed very enthusiastic, but then over the past weekend he was busy and I didn't hear much from him. I asked on Sunday night what he had been up to and he said mostly going out and drinking beer with friends. Cool, sounds like fun.
So today we are texting and I asked him if he wanted to talk about planning for me to visit him. He said he was stressed from work, not in the mood to talk about it, can we talk later. His waning interest feels familiar so I asked point blank if he has started to date someone local. He said he has met a couple of people but isn't dating them. I asked if he was interested in one in particular and he said yes, but he hasn't made a move. So - my Spidey sense is tingling big time. Part of the problem is that I am poly so I don't think starting to date someone is a reason not to meet someone else. But he has told me that eventually he wants to find a wife and get married and be monogamous. The SOONEST I could go for a visit would be June 7 which is over 2 weeks away. And if he is anything like that other guy, he will probably have a girlfriend by then. 😠
So... I get it. Dating can suck. I'm an adult and I can handle disappointment. But I'm not sure how to guard against this SAME thing happening again!! Some ideas: don't even agree to TALK to guys who live more than 2 hours drive from me, stop talking to younger men because 2 weeks seems like forever to them and I usually need a minimum of 2 weeks to plan a visit.
Cubs - if you are reading this, can you PLEASE avoid being like these 2 guys? I made it CLEAR what I was looking for, where I live, etc. These guys acted like they were interested in spite of the distance but basically ditched me for people who are more immediately accessible. If you only want to date local people, that's totally fine and your choice, but for Pete's sake, don't start talking to someone who lives far away and requires planning to see if you can't wait 2 weeks to meet them!!
Ok - end of ranting/venting. Please be kind in the comments. I would appreciate hearing different perspectives. Ideas to avoid this in the future?
submitted by itsauntiechristen to CougarsAndCubs [link] [comments]
I am a Cougar (51F) and I posted my info on one of the "seeking" posts in the appropriate subreddit a couple of weeks ago. I specifically said that I was looking to meet a cub within 2 hours driving distance of me for a FWB type relationship. I am poly with a couple of partners but no one with this specific dynamic. Of course I got quite a few messages and I hit it off really well with one guy - but he lives 5 hours drive from me. To me, this was actually NBD because I don't mind road trips. He drives a lot for work so if HE came to see ME, he wanted to fly. Ok - fine.
I should have looked up the dates before I started typing so forgive the vagueness. But I texted quite a bit with this guy over the course of about 2 weeks and we talked on the phone once for 4 hours. It felt like we had a unique connection and there was definitely mutual attraction there. He told me he was "talking with" one other Cougar he met on Reddit and they had met for lunch once but it wasn't serious. So...I was getting excited to meet him and see if we vibes as well in person as we did via text and phone. We started planning for me to visit him on Memorial Day Weekend.
Then last week (I believe) he texted me to ask if I had bought tickets or made reservations yet. He said he had had lunch with the other woman - who lives within 2 hours of him - and she asked if they could be exclusive and he said "yes." Of course this is his choice and I respected it, but I DID ask some questions because I felt like it came out if nowhere. I said something like, "You are willing to be exclusive with someone you have met only twice and not even made out with?" To which he replied, "I never said we hadn't made out." OH. Okay. That's a bit different. 😞
I told him I was disappointed and that I felt like he had downplayed his interest in the other woman when getting to know me. But I had NOT made any reservations so I wasn't out any money. Then - he blocked my cell number, and blocked me on Instagram AND Reddit! Holy crap! That just felt mean and unnecessary!!
So I shook it off (took a couple of days) and went on with my life. Started talking with another cub from Reddit - again - he is a 2 hour PLANE ride away but not a quick car trip. Hmmm. I have tried to take it slower with this guy. We have also been communicating for about 2 weeks now, and the first week he seemed very enthusiastic, but then over the past weekend he was busy and I didn't hear much from him. I asked on Sunday night what he had been up to and he said mostly going out and drinking beer with friends. Cool, sounds like fun.
So today we are texting and I asked him if he wanted to talk about planning for me to visit him. He said he was stressed from work, not in the mood to talk about it, can we talk later. His waning interest feels familiar so I asked point blank if he has started to date someone local. He said he has met a couple of people but isn't dating them. I asked if he was interested in one in particular and he said yes, but he hasn't made a move. So - my Spidey sense is tingling big time. Part of the problem is that I am poly so I don't think starting to date someone is a reason not to meet someone else. But he has told me that eventually he wants to find a wife and get married and be monogamous. The SOONEST I could go for a visit would be June 7 which is over 2 weeks away. And if he is anything like that other guy, he will probably have a girlfriend by then. 😠
So... I get it. Dating can suck. I'm an adult and I can handle disappointment. But I'm not sure how to guard against this SAME thing happening again!! Some ideas: don't even agree to TALK to guys who live more than 2 hours drive from me, stop talking to younger men because 2 weeks seems like forever to them and I usually need a minimum of 2 weeks to plan a visit.
Cubs - if you are reading this, can you PLEASE avoid being like these 2 guys? I made it CLEAR what I was looking for, where I live, etc. These guys acted like they were interested in spite of the distance but basically ditched me for people who are more immediately accessible. If you only want to date local people, that's totally fine and your choice, but for Pete's sake, don't start talking to someone who lives far away and requires planning to see if you can't wait 2 weeks to meet them!!
Ok - end of ranting/venting. Please be kind in the comments. I would appreciate hearing different perspectives. Ideas to avoid this in the future?
2024.05.22 00:03 Suspicious-Nail-5714 emilator crashing
I've been trying to download mk9 from psvita for a long time to play on my cell phone (Galaxy s23) and now that I managed to get everything to work, the emulator (vita 3k) simply closes by itself, so I assume it is crashing and I don't know what to do about it, It's very frustrating tbh
I recorded my cell phone screen to show what happens, but for some reason the recording stops, but basically the game works very well, but then it starts to freeze a little bit, it increases, and the emulator stops working.
submitted by Suspicious-Nail-5714 to EmulationOnAndroid [link] [comments]
I recorded my cell phone screen to show what happens, but for some reason the recording stops, but basically the game works very well, but then it starts to freeze a little bit, it increases, and the emulator stops working.
2024.05.22 00:01 Gossip-Luv2 Retrieved the content of Tweets on SLB's eccentricities - The Mythmaker’s Legacy - Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, I am the Greatest of Them All!
Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.
submitted by Gossip-Luv2 to BollyBlindsNGossip [link] [comments]
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:
Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.
Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.
2024.05.22 00:00 firezodyssey Soft tissue imaging - can't see damage
Has anyone had the issue that subluxations and injuries that aren't as severe as an actual tear or dislocation not showing up on imaging like ultra sounds and X-rays? Links to peer reviewed medical journal articles on imaging and EDS/HSD or other connective tissue disorders are welcome!
I'm thinking that baring an actual tear, our soft tissue is thin to begin with so it won't show damage unless there's an actual tear or the joint is still dislocated (not after a dislocation or sublux is put back in joint). I'm basing this on the story below and I'm open to comments about my current issue.
For the story context my mom and I have thin eye tissue. We're both finally diagnosed with hEDS
Most of my injuries and chronic issues are lower body and/or to my right side. Left side upper body is only recent. My left shoulder blade has subluxed twice from my spine in the past year.
I'm getting my first custom titanium wheelchair soon (the application is in the works). I know that to get any additions or changes in the future, including a SmartDrive power assist there must be a clinical justification. It's helpful to be either able to document injuries that can be seen on imaging or have a justification why those injuries can't be seen on imaging.
Any medical journal articles are welcome! I have a science degree with human anatomy and physiology with cadaver lab, plus work/life experience so I can read them.
submitted by firezodyssey to eds [link] [comments]
I'm thinking that baring an actual tear, our soft tissue is thin to begin with so it won't show damage unless there's an actual tear or the joint is still dislocated (not after a dislocation or sublux is put back in joint). I'm basing this on the story below and I'm open to comments about my current issue.
For the story context my mom and I have thin eye tissue. We're both finally diagnosed with hEDS
- She has had retinal tears and is blind (can still read large print with her right eye), and I had surgery for a hole in my right retina.
- In 2006 I went in to Emerg at a university teaching hospital with eye pain. This was almost two decades before we had an hEDS diagnosis.
- The attending Opthomologist put in the contrast drops that turn corneal scratches green.
- So of course my entire cornea went green. "Well I've never seen that before!" he said.
- Then he tried the eye that didn't hurt. That also went completely green
- Then ... the typical thing we hear as zebras "That's interesting! Can I bring in the medical students?" lol. He was really nice and actually listened to me so I said yes.
Most of my injuries and chronic issues are lower body and/or to my right side. Left side upper body is only recent. My left shoulder blade has subluxed twice from my spine in the past year.
- The first time was from having to stand for hours when I should have been sitting at a part-time job. I put so much pressure on my cane from being incredibly dizzy that the subluxation happened. (It's a long rant of a story and I'm no longer working there.)
- My awesome family doctor (PCP/GP) ordered imaging. Nothing showed up on either the X-ray (she was concerned about a hairline fracture) or the ultra sound. Yet I had hugely reduced function and was at at 7 to 9 on my pain scale most days (10 is passing out, 9 was a major car accident).
- About three weeks ago I unplugged my AC and subluxed the same joint again. Think it qualifies as a 9.5 because I did pass out on the couch about 15 minutes afterwards.
- I have a phone doctor's appointment next week followed by an in person the next day. I have an overdue script for a neck x-ray (yup that's unstable), so I'm thinking of getting my shoulder blade/back imaged as well.
I'm getting my first custom titanium wheelchair soon (the application is in the works). I know that to get any additions or changes in the future, including a SmartDrive power assist there must be a clinical justification. It's helpful to be either able to document injuries that can be seen on imaging or have a justification why those injuries can't be seen on imaging.
Any medical journal articles are welcome! I have a science degree with human anatomy and physiology with cadaver lab, plus work/life experience so I can read them.
2024.05.21 23:56 camtliving Service cancelled abruptly causing massive chaos. Moving in a week and Xfinity has been less than helpful.
Hi all. Last night our Internet stopped working out of nowhere. I logged into my account and found it to say my service was inactive. I never initiated a cancellation nor was told one was happening. I am moving out of the country in a week and live in an area without cell phone service. Having Internet now is absolutely crucial in these last couple of days. I signed up for a month to month plan 3 weeks ago and payed then so I am not in default or behind payments. I have spent HOURS chatting with different people who have been of zero help. Some of them sent a new service contract to "restore service". Those new services were year long contracts with early termination fees. Again I am moving out of the country. I just want to have access to the services I already paid for.
submitted by camtliving to Comcast_Xfinity [link] [comments]