Article text due to paywall:

World’s Biggest Construction Project Gets a Reality Check

Saudi Arabia’s plans for twin 105-mile-long skyscrapers have lost momentum amid spiraling costs and construction glitches

*By Elliott Brown and Rory Jones
The engineers saw a mountain-sized problem.
For weeks, thousands of trucks and diggers had worked 24 hours every day, scooping millions of cubic feet of sand at the world’s biggest construction project known as Neom in Saudi Arabia. But the workers had dumped the massive pile of dirt—now hundreds of feet wide—in the very spot where architects planned to dig a waterway out to the Red Sea.
So, the trucks and diggers went back to work, picking it all back up and making a new mountain of sand nearby in a costly hiccup that epitomizes the Saudi project’s turbulent journey from an audacious concept to a sprawling operation that has faltered in its execution.
Defying skeptics, Saudi Arabia is barreling ahead with hundreds of billions of dollars in projects at Neom, a built-from-scratch region the size of Massachusetts, typified by sci-fi architecture, an arid ski resort and a laundry list of flashy projects meant to attract a population larger than New York City’s.
None is more brazen than a multitrillion-dollar pair of skyscrapers taller than the Empire State Building designed to run 105 miles long and house nine million people, the flagship development dubbed “The Line.” Its champion, Saudi Crown Prince and de facto ruler Mohammed bin Salman, has likened the project to Egypt’s Great Pyramids.
The kingdom in recent months downsized the Line’s first phase, facing the reality of costs at a time the country is spending far more than it is taking in. Now organizers plan to initially build around 1.5 miles of the structure by 2030, rather than the roughly 10-mile first chunk that had previously been envisioned, multiple people briefed on the plans said. Still, even that truncated section would be by far the world’s largest building, the equivalent of more than 60 Empire State Buildings of square footage.
Asked in a CNBC interview last month about a Bloomberg report on the scaled-back first phase, Saudi Minister of Economy and Planning Faisal Al Ibrahim signaled the long-term ambitions for the Line remain the same.
“There is no change in scale—it is a long-term project that is modular in design,” he said, adding that “today, the economy in the kingdom is growing faster, but we don’t want to overheat it.”
The stakes for Saudi Arabia are as outsized as Mohammed’s ambition. Neom is the ultimate symbol of his plans to transform the kingdom’s economy, reduce its dependence on oil revenue, and make it a magnet for money and talent from around the world. But he risks squandering much of the country’s cash on an unprecedented experiment in city building that could prove too difficult to deliver.
“Mohammed bin Salman is gambling here,” said Madawi al-Rasheed, a visiting fellow at the London School of Economics and a member of a group calling for democratic reform in Saudi Arabia, an absolute monarchy.
“Spending so much money should in theory generate a tangible leap in the Saudi economy,” she said, but much of the cash so far was spent on foreign consultants and architects.
A mountain of challenges lies ahead. More than 100,000 additional construction workers must be housed in a barren corner of the kingdom’s vast desert, two hour’s drive from any sizable city. Neom’s needs for steel, exterior glass and other materials are so massive they may push up global prices and be difficult to source. Planners worry the unique central concept of the Line, a vertical city housed in twin skyscrapers the length of Delaware, could prove to be an unappealing place to live.
At the same time, the scaled-back plans for the Line put a spotlight on Neom’s enormous bill for what is now poised to be a midsize city. Neom executives now expect fewer than 200,000 residents in the project’s first phase—the population of Knoxville, Tenn.—a current and former employee familiar with the plans said. Yet Neom is spending on vast infrastructure intended for millions of people, including a giant airport, a high-speed train running through a 20-mile mountain tunnel, massive desalination plants and large civic features in the Line such as an opera house, the former executive said.
The price tag keeps rising. The projected cost of a ski resort in the region’s arid mountains has more than doubled over two years to $38 billion as of October, according to Neom documents reviewed by The Wall Street Journal. Real estate advisory Knight Frank estimates more than $237 billion of construction contracts have already been commissioned at Neom.
Even for one of the world’s largest exporters of crude oil, Neom might just be too expensive. Its official cost estimate is $500 billion, 50% more than the country’s entire federal budget for the year and more than half the value of its sovereign-wealth fund.
Executives working on the project dismiss that number as unrealistically low. The first 1.5 miles of the Line alone is estimated internally to cost more than $100 billion, two people familiar with the plans said.
If it were fully built, Neom employees expect the true price of the Line would be well in excess of $2 trillion. Construction costs per square foot are more than double what is standard on other Middle East towers, they said.
This makes it unlikely Neom will attract significant private investment to fund future phases of the Line, they say. It has been funded thus far by the Saudi government.
Neom is the centerpiece of an overhaul of Saudi Arabia’s economy and identity that Mohammed began in 2015 when his father ascended the throne. Then 29 years old, the son of King Salman outmaneuvered potential heirs and rapidly consolidated power.
Hungry for change, Mohammed allowed more Western cultural norms and eliminated restrictions that forbade mixing of sexes, women drivers and cinemas. He also put even tighter limits on speech, crushing dissent over the rapid change.
The plan, Vision 2030, called for an array of new non-oil industries such as entertainment and technology and building mega-sized real-estate developments to help it become a global tourism hub.
Mohammed’s team sought proposals from the world’s top architects for ideas to design Neom. The avant-garde Los Angeles designer, Morphosis Architects, headed by Pritzker prize winner Thom Mayne, pitched a city that was 100 miles long and 1.2 miles—or two kilometers—wide, with buildings spread across the ground.
The prince had a different idea.
“I told the team, how about if we take that two kilo and we flip it to two towers to the whole line,” he said in a Discovery Channel documentary last year, clapping his hands together vertically like someone closing a book.
The idea of the skyscraper city was born.
Architects got to work designing a pair of parallel towers 650 feet apart, shrouded in a shimmering mirror glass coat that reflects red desert sand and azure blue sea. At their highest, the towers are slated to rise 1,640 feet above the desert floor, although they will be less tall in spots depending on the terrain they are traversing.
Internal documents from 2021 call for more than seven billion square feet of floor space—29% larger than all of the buildings in New York City put together and the size of more than 2,000 Empire State Buildings. Apartments, offices, schools, police stations, museums and a royal palace would be peppered inside.
Stunning—and costly—architecture is a priority. Mohammed told Neom executives he wants a sense of “zero gravity” with features appearing to defy physics and float, former executives said.
A linear city has long captivated urban planners. In 1882, Spanish architect Arturo Soria y Mata proposed an elongated urban development that inspired the “Ciudad Lineal” district of Madrid. The Line has been compared internally to Epcot Center, a former Neom executive said, the 1960s-era complex at Disney World that was intended to be a futuristic city dependent on high-speed rail. It was abandoned after Walt Disney ’s death. Epcot later became a theme park.
A linear city as big as the Line is at odds with how humans have developed cities for millennia: naturally building outward in a circular manner, typically around a core.
“It’s battling against the entire history of the way cities are founded and grow,” said John E. Fernandez, professor in the department of architecture at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
Even supporters say it is an experiment that could easily fail in practice.
In a planning document under a heading of “Key Concerns,” an employee said four different times that by fixating on building miles-long skyscrapers, Neom had turned the normal design process inside out. “USE would usually drive DESIGN. We are using DESIGN to drive USE,” the anonymous comment said.
The shape has added to challenges.
In 2020, before Mohammed unveiled the project, he asked employees to move the Line’s western end a few miles because he preferred the terrain, said people familiar with the request. Designs had to shift slightly across the entire 105 miles, causing months of extra work.
Architects have struggled to find the best ways to mix sunlight and open space in the interior. Internal documents show they wrestled with how to differentiate neighborhoods so as not to create a monolithic block—opting to build distinct half-mile sections with a different look and feel. They worried about drab living conditions at the base of the interior, given that the height of the towers would allow little light down low.
According to planning documents, designers proposed leaving gaps atop the modules to “bend” the structures around the curvature of the earth, which arches about 8 inches per mile.
Planners fretted over the billions of birds that fly on a migration route—a less-than-ideal location for a 1,600-foot-tall glass mirror.
“It is inevitable that a significant number of birds will perish,” designers wrote, with an illustration of a dead northern flicker, a woodpecker.
Looming over Neom is an inauspicious history of city-building projects, which typically die on the drawing board. Those that are built are usually scaled down, and often considered sterile.
One of modern history’s largest is Brasília, the Brazilian capital that strained the country’s finances when it was constructed in the late 1950s. After opening, residents complained of lifeless streets and a lack of neighborhood feel in the curated modernist center, which today holds less than half its expected population of 500,000. Instead, far more residents live in and around satellite towns initially built for its construction workers.

Scant progress

Seven years after launch, little has been completed other than Neom’s film studios and a sprawling new royal complex that boasts giant palaces, a golf course and at least 10 helipads, satellite images show.
Beyond the Line, Neom has a bevy of superlative-packed projects, all of them complex.
Neom is so big it has its own large-scale construction projects simply to prepare for bigger projects. A port is needed to receive materials, and Neom is spending more than $5 billion to build housing for construction workers, according to the Middle East business-trade publication MEED, which tracks Neom contracts.
Engineers and administrative workers live in a handful of Neom-built communities with schools, basketball courts, a Burger King, a Starbucks and a Hampton Inn where rooms run above $400. The first such camp already needs to be partially demolished: After a design change, the Line is now due to run right through the community, where housing is already at capacity, former employees said.
Despite being billed as zero emissions, Neom recently sought contractors to build two gas power plants totaling 800 megawatts to power the region until greener energy is sourced.
To demonstrate progress to the crown prince, engineers started putting in the foundations for the Line a couple of years ago even before architects had figured out what would go above—an unusual way to build such a massive development, engineering experts said.
Architects soon decided the first phase should be built somewhere else, leaving the Line’s initial foundations abandoned for now, said people familiar with the matter.
For over a year, the bulk of the work has been a digging operation—the world’s largest, Neom says. Four-lane makeshift construction roads are clogged with lines of dump trucks; diesel fumes from trucks and generators permeate the air.
Significant digging work has gone into swaths that even before the recent pullback weren’t scheduled to be completed for decades. Satellite images show a 60 mile gash through the desert.
The current focus is a seaside middle section, where Prince Mohammed wanted the building constructed atop a new marina that could hold the world’s biggest cruise ships. Workers are digging a hole 50 feet below sea level, over 450 acres in size. It was there that workers had excavated a small mountain of dirt, only to find it was in the wrong place.
Once foundations are laid, a key test will be if and when Neom awards the costly contracts to start vertical construction—a crucial milestone that makes it difficult to turn back.
Another question is height. Numerous executives working on Neom have questioned the need for a 1,600-foot-tall building—which carries extra engineering challenges, higher costs and makes evacuation difficult in an emergency.
Renowned British architect Peter Cook, who is involved in the Line, called the project’s height “a bit stupid and unreasonable,” according to comments published in the U.K.-based Architect’s Journal. In a later documentary, Cook, who is overall praiseful of the project, called the Line “puzzling even to those who are involved in designing it.”

I’m really glad I found this subreddit because there really isn’t anyone in my life right now that I’m talking to about this condition other than my physical therapist and I sort of need to vent! This will be a long post.
I’m really glad I started going to physical therapy, it’s helped a lot and I’ve made so much progress in just a month a half (currently on the second dilator out of 6, so 1/3 of the way there!). But I feel like kicking myself for not starting sooner. I’m 22, I’ll be 23 soon, but I first found out I had vaginismus when I was 18 and first tried to have sex with my boyfriend at the time. It was so painful, and not in the way I anticipated my first time to be. At the time I’d never even used a tampon. Ater a trip to the gynecologist she confirmed it was vaginismus when I couldn’t complete an exam. My boyfriend and I tried a few more times with little success at painless PIV. I tried to do exercises, even bought a book about vaginismus to self-treat and condition myself to relax. But any time I attempted PIV, even if I was able to be penetrated, it was too painful to ever be enjoyable. When I think back on these painful experiences and compare it to my experience now with dilating and physical therapy, I think so much of it was me forcing myself to do something I didn’t really want to do with someone I wasn’t comfortable with. With dilating/PT my progress feels like it’s the result of me really wanting to overcome this condition and achieve painless penetration. But at 18, I was young, emotionally insecure, and uncomfortable in my own body. It wasn’t a good relationship for me either, not just because of who he was but because of how I felt about myself. So no matter how much I tried, it never really worked because I was forcing myself to do something I didn’t really want. I think sex at the time just felt like something I “should” do rather than me considering if it was actually something I wanted. I just kind of hate how much it set me back. Only recently did I realize that I’ve avoided sex and intimacy for years now because of vaginismus. I kept avoiding it thinking it would go away on its own when I started having sex again but with someone I was compatible with. I’ve been with a couple other people, but never anything serious or leading to penetrative sex. After 4 years of avoiding penetrative sex I realized the only way I was going to start having sex again, and even just experiencing intimacy, was by starting treatment. There was clearly too much of a mental block for me to try to have sex again without knowing for certain I was able to handle penetration. Even at 20, I went in for another gynecological exam and couldn’t complete it. It should’ve been then that I faced the issue head on, but I didn’t lol. Now after about a month and a half of physical therapy, I’m realizing how little I knew about my body all these years and how much this contributed to my fears. PT has been great because I think I really needed the coaching. I didn’t get a lot of sex-ed growing up (religious schools, conservative environments, etc) so a little hand holding went a long way. My relationship with vaginismus is mainly psychosomatic, and improving my understanding of how my body works has helped so much. Using tampons is painless now, which is amazing. My progress so far has been a huge boost to my self esteem and now I’m just wishing I had started treatment sooner.

I'm trying to decide if I made the right call today. I was driving home from picking up groceries and I had just turned onto my street. There was a man around my age walking westbound on a cross street at an intersection just before my block. He had already crossed my street. I stopped at the stop sign, and I thought he looked like someone I went to high school with, so I took a beat to determine if it was him. I decided it was not, but he noticed me looking at him and did a double take at me. Whatever, no big deal.
I proceed into my driveway and I'm unloading my groceries when I look up the street and see the same man heading down my side of the street towards me.
I know rationally that it's entirely possible that he had a legitimate reason to change direction, go north down a street he had just crossed, and even choose to cross that street to walk on the side I live on. Maybe he forgot something or was lost. If it had been someone who I hadn't just witnessed travelling in another direction, I wouldn't have given it a second thought. But the fact that he changed his course AND we had "noticed" each other a minute previously set off alarm bells in my brain and body.
I ended up hiding in my backyard for a couple minutes to avoid any interaction. I texted a friend and she invalidated my fears and said that people are allowed to walk down my public street. I went back out to finish unloading my car and he was nowhere to be seen.
I don't want to mistrust men or other humans, but I've been burned and have trauma from dating since my divorce 3 years ago. I am currently intentionally single since I left an abusive relationship in January of this year. I've been SA'd more than once by more than one man.
I found out I'm autistic a year ago, and I think it contributed a lot to the bad situations I got myself into. I'm trying to trust my gut more and no longer give strangers the benefit of the doubt. Not doing so previously has caused me so much harm.
Would you have done the same? I can't tell which would have been more upsetting overall, hiding from a hypothetical, or enduring an unwanted interaction.
Thank you for the safe space to talk about this. I will definitely bring this up with my therapist when I see her next week.

Apologies if this doesn't technically qualify as a request for advice but...
For background, I live on an old established (WWII) housing estate in England. The pavements are quite generous, and a grassed verge with the occasional tree separates the path from the roadway. Cars do park on the verge but generally two wheels only and it's very rare that the footpath is blocked. I am confident saying this as I'm familiar with pushing a wheelchair round this estate.
There is a couple, 60s or so, who both use mobility scooters to get around - always on the road, some times right down the middle.
They often pick up their two young (presumably) grandkids from a nearby infant school and, with one on each scooter take them home, on the road, with at least one right turn against oncoming traffic. Is that okay? And more generally, am I right to be irritated by having to crawl along behind them in my car? Or having to pull over if they are travelling towards me and there's a parked vehicle making passing impossible?
Are the mobility scooters vehicles with the same privileges as bicycles or should these two, with or without the kids, be on the footpath?
For clarity, I'm not planning on driving them off the road or reporting them I'm just puzzled.

Race Information

• Name: Vancouver Marathon
• Date: May 5th, 2024
• Distance: 26.51 miles
• Location: Vancouver, BC
• Website: https://bmovanmarathon.ca/results
• Time: 3:07:48

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	Miracle: Sub 3	No
B	Reach: Sub 3:05	No
C	Realistic: Sub 3:15	Yes
D	Minimum: 3:30	Yes

Splits

Mile	Time
1	7:10
2	6:48
3	6:48
4	6:34
5	6:44
6	7:17
7	7:08
8	6:54
9	6:45
10	6:51
11	6:48
12	6:42
13	6:33
14	6:49
15	7:04
16	7:04
17	7:06
18	7:04
19	7:27
20	7:00
21	7:00
22	7:08
23	7:11
24	7:54
25	8:27
26	7:57
27	7:02

Context

32M, 158lbs. Discovered running as a junior in high school. Had a profound impact on me and continued running into college / med school until overuse injuries caught up with me. Despite PT never got over chronic quad/patellar tendinitis, along with just being absolutely destroyed by time constraints with education and hospital working hours. Ended up going ~6-7 years without running as a result.
Last year I started a prestigious sports medicine fellowship with great PT facilities, so decided to give myself a PT prescription. ~6 months of PT later, finally got over my injuries, or so I thought. After a month of running and using Garmin training plan, developed IT band tendinitis. Finally decided to say fuck it, and hire a running coach with the goals of just running injury free.
Found an awesome coach based off the recommendation of a friend who is a multiple time Ironman champion. Started from scratch in June of last year.

Training

Training was very basic at first. No real goals, just running without injuries. Built my aerobic base over ~4-5 months with light strength and mobility work. Peak mileage ~ 28miles. Ran a 5k @ 20:05 and a 10k @ 39:47 in November. Once I was able to race without an injury, we decided to look for a half-marathon and full in the spring/early summer. Half scheduled for end of march and full beginning of May
Started a strength phase for about 6-8 weeks. In the gym twice a week doing serious strengthening with 3-4 runs per week.1 run a week would be hills and 1 "long" day of 75-90 minutes. Ended up overtraining and started to dislike training towards the end of the block. I was tired all the time and thought I was depressed but realized it was just overtraining. Coach recommended a week off and a light week and all of a sudden I bounced right back.
Began second 6-8 week block of tempo work + increasing mileage. I think my coach was focused on keeping me injury free, so peak mileage was never over 30 miles. 1 tempo day a week, 1 long day of 75-90 minutes, 1 easy and 1 aerobic day. 2 days of strength and mobility but much easier body-weight/band work. Ran the half-marathon in 1:27:18. My goal was 1:30:00, so I was very happy, but this made me start to dream of a sub-3 marathon.
Took a week of then transitioned to full marathon training. Turnaround from March 24 half to May 5th full was very short. Started to increase mileage. Peak mileage was ~40-45 miles. Got one 20 mile day in the bank 2 weeks before race day. Didn't do a great job of practicing race nutrition or hydration, although I did tinker with running with water and gels.

Pre-race

Arrived in Vancouver Friday night. I have a lot of family in the area. My uncle is a big marathoner whose PB is 2:44:00. He was coming off an injury and only a few months of training but really wanted to pace me. I've always wanted to run with him as we used to run before I got injured so this was a long time coming.
Friday was spent crushing graham crackers, bagels, and coconut water. Saturday we went to the local running stores, picked up a naked race belt to hold our gels and water, and picked up our bibs. Again, we hit about 500-600g of carbs with graham crackers, toast +honey, pasta, and maurtens 320 before bed. I was absolutely BUZZING before bed. I do not eat much carbs during my normal daily life, so this was the most insane sugar high I've ever had. I actually had trouble going to bed and woke up multiple times with my whole body tingling, but otherwise got a good nights sleep lol. I've never raced a marathon before, and although I dreamed of sub-3, I realized I probably wasn't ready and would be happy with anything under 3:15.
Race day had another maurtens 320, toast, banana, my Thorne daily green supplement (take it every day), and creatine (I took creatine every day for the last 6 or so months but stopped 2 weeks before the race, and restarted 2 days before. No science, I kind of just made it up). Had a bit of a stomach ache on the warm up to the race, but it went away shortly.
Weather was perfect for a Californian. Temps in 50s, overcast, gentle breeze.

Race

Race plan was split into 3 phases: First 10 miles (7-715 pace), Second 10 miles (maintain or push to 6:40-6:50), 10k (push, whatever you have left). Gel every 8k. Few sips of water from water bottle every 3k. Started in Corral 2. First 10k went by fairly quickly. Starts on a gentle up hill and then solid downhill before the first big hill. Felt way too good to start. I usually listen to audiobooks during training and nothing during races, but decided to listen to music and it gave me a huge boost. I started to get cocky and was already thinking of sub 3 glory within the first few miles haha.
Got to the first hill at 9-10k and it wasn't steep but goes for about 2-3k before reaching the peak and 75 meters of elevation. My uncle told me to slow down but was feeling good and was trying to maintain at least 7:30-7:45. First phase went better than expected and was probably pushed too hard, although I didn't feel that way.
Second phase I tried to increase the pace to maintain 6:50. I didn't realize the big downhill at 19-20k would have the effect that it did. My quads took a beating. It didn't feel horrible at the time but I started to notice that while I didn't feel tired, the legs were getting depleted. Hit 13.1 miles at 1:29:32 and felt that if I could just hold on until the final 10k, that I could mentally push myself to sub 3. Boy was I wrong. Despite no longer having serious hills, there were plenty of rolling ups and downs. My uncle kept telling me to take it easy on the downhills. I thought just letting gravity take me down was enough but I should've been even more conservative. Mild headwind slowed us down around mile 15-20.
Final big hill at the Burrard bridge. This really took it out of me. Started to breathe heavy. Kept telling myself if I can survive this then I just have to hang on. There's a steep but short drop onto the path along the sea around 30-31km and that felt like the final straw for my quads. Did everything I could to hold on behind my uncle. The sea wall just kills you mentally. It seems like a beautiful path to run when you're not racing, but at the end of a marathon, it was devastating. It winds on forever. You think the final turn is just around the corner but then you round the corner and there's a long winding path to the next corner. It feels like it's never going to end.
At 5k left, it was truly the end. I told myself to at least keep running and not walk, but 30 seconds later I took my first walk break. Ended up walking 4 separate times for about 10-20 seconds each time. Many others were doing the same. You eventually finish the sea wall and get to the final park, cross a bridge and there's a nice crowd. You get into downtown and then it's a gradual uphill to the finish that feels like the steepest hill of the whole race. On top of that the finish line feels like a mile away when you round that final corner. I had already known I wasn't finishing sub 3 but had tried to at least get sub 3:10, maybe 3:05. Picked up the pace for the final half mile and finished strong at 3:07:48 @26.51 miles, 3:05:35 for 26.2 miles.

Post-race

Could barely walk. Felt a bit nauseous. Had to lie down on the ground because standing hurt so bad haha. This was definitely one of the hardest things I've done in my life. Questioned my sanity a lot during the final 10k, but at the end it felt amazing. I've already signed up for my next Marathon at CIM in December. Hoping to use that to qualify for Boston and the rest of the major marathons. My Uncle and I want to travel and do more marathons together. Hope to see some of you out there!

But Jewish students, professors, organizations and businesses are targeted by “protestors”
They say it isn’t students acting in bad faith, but Jewish professors are receiving anonymous hate mail from students.
A Jewish UCLA professor I know personally has been receiving hate mail from students for months now. A Jewish professor at Columbia was barred from entering campus because the students posed a danger to him. Jewish students across the country have been blocked from moving freely on their own campuses by other students. Even months ago, Jewish students had to hide from a violent mob of other students in a Cooper Union library for hours. “Glory to our martyrs” was projected on the walls of GWU. A Jewish teacher at a high school had to hide from a violent mob of her own students. Saying it isn’t true doesn’t make it less true.
They say they want to “divest” from Israeli businesses, ignoring the history of Jewish businesses being boycotted leading up to the holocaust and the mass murder of 6 million Jews. Ignoring the fact that these businesses have no control over what the military does. Screaming at Jewish business owners won’t bring the peace they claim to want.
They say they embrace diversity, but then vilify, condemn, harass and attempt to banish those who don’t agree with their viewpoints.
They say they support minorities, but then call Jewish people “oppressors” when in fact, Jews only make up 2% of the United States population, 0.2% of the world population and yet are the targets of 60% of hate crimes in the US according to the FBI.
They claim to be peaceful, but chanting “bomb bomb Tel Aviv”, “from the river to the sea” and “intifada” are calls to mass murder Jews. Telling Jewish Americans to “go back to Poland” really means “go back to the death camps that killed your ancestors”. Vandalizing buildings is a crime and is not peaceful dissidence, and it is not protected by free speech or peaceful protest laws. Then they wonder why they are met with force from Police.
They say it isn’t antisemitism as they “protest” outside of Auschwitz on holocaust remembrance Day.
They say it’s not antisemitism because it is. Wake up students. You are part of a hate movement that advocates for violence and genocide against a long persecuted minority.
eta: For your activity check - I’m alumn, my bf is alumn, I know people who currently work at UCLA as I mentioned in this post and I used to work at UCLA (both school and med center)

Me and my now ex were together for six months. He broke up with me and I’ll explain how he got there.
We were celebrating the ending of my semester from grad school. We started by grabbing drinks at a bar. Before we got on our way to a baseball game, we went to a shop and he got me a thrifted ring. During this time we were also talking about how great we were doing in our relationship. Previous to this relationship, a year ago I got out of an abusive relationship, which I went to therapy for. On our way to the game, I talked about this relationship a little bit more to him and explained how I was abused physically and verbally.
Fast-forward to when we get to the stadium, we got another beer that was pretty strong. At this point, I was very drunk and I know he was too. We took our seats and he proceeded to show me a picture of him with a friend. Now, I can’t remember if he intentionally showed me the next picture that came up or if it slipped, but it was a picture of a girl in a sexy Halloween costume. He said that he kept this picture because it was hilarious to him (she was dressed as a cow, nonetheless she was a sexy cow) and he forgot that it was there on his phone. I was upset and I couldn’t let it go and I kept talking about it. He never deleted that picture. The game ended. We left the stadium and he left me behind. He was so angry at me because I didn’t drop the subject of the picture, which I find ridiculous. After me, trying to figure out where he was, other two girls approached to me and told me that he was treating me like garbage and that he didn’t deserve me (so embarrassing).
We were supposed to catch the train and the argument continued while we walked, and he decided to leave me alone at a train station in the middle of the rain. Then told me to catch a ride to his house. I was blacked out at this point (he came back to me and I can’t remember how I got to his house if together or by myself) But I do remember that I was crying at his house and that at some point I went outside thinking I could walk home but it was too cold and rainy, he did not let me go back inside his house. (I called him so many times and he kept ignoring me). He blocked me everywhere and stopped sharing his location. It was still raining and his parents were home. He finally lets me inside, we were in his room and kept saying that he wasn’t going to talk to me until the morning time and that he was going to bed on top of that, he was screaming. I contemplated staying, but then I decided to leave because I couldn’t bear the fact that he was just ignoring me. I left the room and his dad offered me a ride because it was raining and I was willing to walk back home in the windy, cold and rainy night.
The next day, he asked me if I was going to be at home at a certain time to come and talk, but I was out of the house and not available until nighttime. He then proceeded to say that we should’ve taken a break for three days and then talk. I ended up catching a ride to his house and he told me that I should not come over and left my belongings outside of his door in a bag (I kept calling him multiple times), he finally answered and broke up with me because I showed up at his house when he said I shouldn’t. It was still raining outside, I left walking to my house broken and crying.
We had a phone call at some point on Monday and he said that I had to apologize if I wanted this relationship to work, which I didn’t. I asked him if he thought he did something wrong and he just started laughing. And then at some point started screaming at me again, so I hung up.
Now, after all this mess, he sent me an email since he is blocked everywhere, saying that he should’ve handled this better and that he hast to work on himself, that he is sorry, that he loves me and that he believes that we can work this out. But I feel so disrespected, under-appreciated and broken. I love him very much, but never thought me and him would be going through this.
TL;DR : My now ex got angry because I got upset for a picture of a girl on his phone; screamed at me, left me behind twice in the middle of the rainy night. Then broke up with me when I tried to come and communicate with him. Now wants to apologize and fix things.

This is a long one
My husband (27M) and I (27 F) have been together for 7 years, married 2 years, and have a 7-year-old daughter. We have always had a good relationship – I mean it's been 7 years so there is the occasional fight but nothing too big. His mother on the other hand has always been one way in person and another way on social media with me I don't pay much into it as my husband has always claimed to not get along with his mom, also she is only considered a Facebook Grandma to our daughter. Granted, my husband has been raising her since she was pretty much born but they are not blood-related – I have told my husband that this is why she puts so little care into seeing our daughter or being around her aside from holidays and despite her living less than 5min from our house. But onto what is going on - over the last year, we have been going through IVF to have a second child, it's been a difficult process as we have gone through multiple miscarriages.
Through this whole process, I have been the one paying for the IVF, and anything that goes along with it. This is not because I make more than him, we make the same amount annually but since I am the one pushing the IVF it is been my responsibility to pay for it. This past month we transferred our final embryo which resulted in a chemical pregnancy, this broke my heart and has caused a lot of mental damage. Trying to pull it together our doctor recommended another round of Egg Retrieval but this time with a different testing which would cost about $15K.
Giving me some type of hope I called my husband and let him know the plan, he then said that we should wait a year to see if it would happen naturally, and if not we should just give up on having another kid. I quickly got upset and hung up with him. I ended up texting him later and vented to him.
I explained that I was not ready to give up on having a kid and I was upset that he was so quick to just give up on everything. I explained how I was the one paying for IVF and he had not helped so I was just explaining the next steps and I would be covering the cost of everything yet again. We then got into an argument about money and how he felt I was wasting so much of it to not having a baby, I then blew up and explained that the house we were living in was in my name as I was the one who purchased it during covid (before we married), I also explained how I was the one that paid for our entire wedding (where he got too drunk at and ruined it, along with his family ruining the entire wedding experience for me) I also explained that I was the one paying for 90% of the bills in the house along with 100% of our daughter's programs (school, sports, cheer, etc) I also explained how there where a few other things in ref to our IVF journey that he wasn’t doing.
That night when we got home we both talked about it and cleared the air, we were fine. That is until the next day when his mom texted him and he was being shady with his phone., knowing something was wrong I ended up taking the phone and seeing ~all of the messages.~
Apparently, my husband who I had thought I was having a private conversation with, had sent her screenshots of my messages to him where she was then picking them apart and talking bad about me. (he left out his messages and the phone call we had prior to the messages being sent)
She then called me a narcissist, a drama queen, saying that I was throwing tantrums for not getting my way, that I am delusional, I live in a delusional world, that it was my fault we didn’t have kids, how he should divorce me, and so much more. He didn’t back me up or defend his wife but instead edged her on, agreeing that I was a narcissist, that he paid for us going to dinner on date night so that’s why he doesn’t pay for IVF (because a 60$ dinner once a month or two months is equivalent to the amount I had paid for IVF the last year?!) but bottom line he agreed with her and let her say terrible things about me.
Needless to say, I was pissed and the argument started right back up again this time I am even more upset at both him and her. I explained to him I would not be going over by her or speaking to her anymore, I blocked her on social media and made it clear to him that I do not plan on being around her. We have a wedding coming up in 2 weeks for his brother, so I will be forced to be in the same space with her – but I don’t plan on speaking to her and ruining my BIL's wedding.
My husband thinks I am blowing this all out of proportion and should just understand she was defending her son and that I am going to ruin his brother's wedding because I just can't get over it, even though I told him multiple times I would never ruin his brother's wedding and planned on not talking to her the entire time we are there.
Note: My husband also has not told his mom I saw the messages because he doesn’t want to upset her and make his mom feel bad for what she said.

So, AITAH for no longer speaking to my MIL and I am just blowing this all out of proportion?

Hi I can’t believe I’m writing this on Reddit but I feel lost and I’m trying to find idk maybe answers to this whirlpool of questions, but to give a background, My LDR gf, well now ex, and I have been together for three years. When we met it was kind of like out of the blue, and we both weren’t expecting it to happen but it did. She’s always had self-esteem issues and a bit of depression, but she had told me she was ready for a relationship and said yes to being my gf. We both had met each other’s friends/siblings and she finally met my Hispanic parents and I met her Arab parents. Long story short, she had always told me that her parents like me and stuff but had always said that they always have wanted her and her sister to marry a Muslim, but she told me that didn’t matter and still wanted to do this with me. Soo time pasts everything is going super well I gave her a promise ring, at our 1 year anniversary, to show my commitment to her and she was super happy and everything was good. Well in August of this past year we had this huge argument, and somehow we got on the subject of the promise ring and she told me that she thought it was “too fast/too soon”, I was taken back because this was out of the blue and I had no idea she felt that way about it, but maybe I shouldn’t have because she has always not like to talk about how she truly feels and her emotions in general, but anyways we make up after I gave her some space and while she tells me that she’s afraid to commit, she sees a future with me and wants to build something together and want to work on her issues and I agree. Well everything is good again, and she comes visit for my birthday after this past Christmas, and again she tells me that she doesn’t ever want to lose me and can’t wait for our future together. Around this time her parents are also getting a chunk of money from land they have oversees. So after she leaves to go back home, our dynamic changes, she distances herself, stops calling/texting as much, and I ask her the 1st time if something is wrong, and she says no and that she’s been very busy at work and school. So we talk about she says she’ll try better and etc. well there still no improvement, and she keeps doing the same thing, so I talk to her one more time and I tell her how I feel about it, and right as I’m talking she says,”that’s she’s going to bed and she’s over it”, and hangs up on me. I felt confused and hurt because it made me feel like she didn’t care, but she called me back, and said that she felt bad and again she doesn’t want to lose me and wants to try/etc, by this time I feel very frustrated and honestly drained, so fast forward to present day. Yesterday she calls and tells me she wants to watch a movie together and we do, and as we were talking the topic of commitment come up and she says that “hopefully” she can commit to me and I ask her what hopefully means, and she said that maybe she can grow up in 2-4 years and really commit and put her eggs in one basket. By this point, I knew, as hard as it was/is, I had to do something…so the next day I call her up, probably useless, but I ask her where she sees our relationship going and she says well, “I hope to be with u for the future, and I was like yea and able to commit “hopefully” and I just asked her what in 3-5 years she thinks she’s going to commit if she can’t now, and she stayed quiet and ig fed up so she said that nothing she does/says is good enough for me and said we were done and immediately blocked me on all social media but not on texts/calls. So after awhile she calls me again and tells me that she’s sorry she can’t give me what I want and know I’m good but she doesn’t feel good enough for me, and says that’s she can’t say it. So I just finally tell her we need to go our separate ways, and that I love her and hope she can find her peace/happiness and we hang up. I don’t know that’s the story, but I just feel so lost and I’m just feeling so bad but I maybe just wanted to share my story.
Thank you

Hey, 6YOE here, ML/AI field. I have a pretty good resume for my local market, getting ~50% callback, having experience at top local companies (with presence worldwide), and research in Germany. The thing is that in this country we are treated like inferior beings by the westerners we work with. Our opinions don't mean anything, our ideas are always bad, and even if we went to national math/informatics olympics, we are still considered lower skill compared to an average american dev.. which is nonsense. Math is too hard for us even if we are medalists. I've even been told by the HR that we, as a nation are inferior and should keep our head low. (yes, sure, the average here is lower than the average there, but it's not like the whole distribution is below it)
I'm really passionate about advancing technology, and my work means more to me than just making money. But I've been kept on shitty projects or just asked to do clean-up work at most of the jobs I've been at, was offered no mentoring, no proper technical feedback and no ways to improve. The only interesting things I ever did in my career were because I fought hard for my ideas and promoted them, while even risking to lose the job...
For the past year I kept applying to hundreds and hundreds of jobs in all of western Europe, UK and US, but received almost zero callbacks. The only ones that called back were looking for remote cleanup work for low pay...
I've taken an interview at a local Google office and passed it, so I have the skills. But the positions were canceled. Now, the recruited told me that I passed it, but because the position was canceled, my application was closed. I asked to be relocated to any other open positions in the world, as per how their 1 year valid passed interview works.. but apparently the interview in a 2nd world does not count in a 1st world. haha. not insulted at all.
I feel blocked and unable to progress and I have no idea what to do. How do I find a job in the developed world if applying does not work? What do I have to do? Apply through specific agencies? Try to befriend people online and ask for referrals? Or maybe applying normally works and I'm just doing it wrong?
Maybe I have to change my name, as my last name sounds pretty "weird".. heard that may help.
I feel like this entire thing is not based on skill at all, and no matter how hard you try, you will never be recognized for the work you put in compared to people born there. If you are slightly above the average, there is zero chance for you to do anything. Even if you are in the top 1%, it will be hard to compete with people who are average... and not because of skill. This whole shit is making me despise everything. I just wanted to create things and improve technology, really polished my skills, spend thousands of hours, went to olympics and contests as mad while in school, and now, because I could not go to university abroad I'm stuck in a shithole with no way out. I don't even feel like a human being anymore.

Hi, I'm quite new to using reddit so I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but the title says it really.
I'm in my teens, I've got a pretty musical background (not prodigy level or anything but I think a decent one): I can play piano and violin, I've done grade 5 theory, GCSE music, and I'm nearing grade 8 in my instruments. For my GCSE composition coursework I got almost full marks overall and my stronger one out of the two was my free composition (one you basically do whatever you want in), and I did a film piece. I've been arranging stuff since I was like 12 or 13, and I love composing once I get into the flow. My only problem is I think is that I have a tendency to hate everything I create or intense writer's block so I end up quitting projects. I only started finishing things because of coursework lol. I'm also planning to continue studying music when I leave school.
I'm pretty driven and can work with deadlines (pretty much) and adore film and storytelling. I've always been into telling stories whether through writing, art, or music. If I feel something's really worth doing I will not stop until I'm either forced to by people around me or until I think it's as good as I can get it.
I really want to have a career in music, and I think film music might be it. I know a lot of it is dependant on connections, talent, and being in the right place at the right time. But If I carry on the way I am and improve, do you think I could do it? Realistically?

Jumping right to it, I have a sibling with an intellectual disability (capital They/Them for clarity.) I am NC with my mom and VLC with my dad. I'm trying to be NC with this sibling and it's not working.
My sibling would have had low support needs had they not been failed by our parents, and They probably would have been independent now as an adult in Their thirties. As it stands, They live with our parents and I do not see Them. They cannot read or write, but can dial a phone and send texts using the speech to text function.
When we were teenagers, They used to hit me and verbally abuse me for hours when no one was around. There was one summer in that I remember our parents constantly being gone and leaving me in charge of Them. Since our parents were chaotic, unpredictable, and in general awful people, I could never disclose the abuse to them because I was worried about my dad's reaction. To this day, I have not said anything about it because I'm afraid my dad will snap so, as a child who was the peacemaker of the family, I kept my mouth shut and let myself get punched, screamed at, cursed at, and berated by my rageful sibling. In general, I comprehend that They don't know better and don't fully understand things the way I understand them, but it's hard for me even now to reconcile that with the fact that They never abused me when anyone else was around, the rage never came out (unprovoked) towards anyone else, and They never did it at school. During this time, I was surrounded by people who thought They were so sweet and friendly and innocent (I'm sure I don't have to explain how common it is for people to infantilize teens/adults with disabilities.)
Then, one day, the rage just stopped and my sibling went back to normal, how They were when we used to be friends. They wanted to play games and talk and watch shows we'd always liked and, because I was the peacemaker, I did those things and I didn't think about it further.
When I went NC with my mom, and other members of my family, I cut contact with my sibling, too and started processing the whole, ugly history of how They treated me and how I was trapped. But here's where it gets hard for me: They have completely forgotten what they did to me and They don't understand why I'm not talking to Them. I tried to explain when I went NC that I needed to be away from the 'family.' I've tried to explain it twice more since then but They don't remember. At the end of a 30 second phone call where I say "Please don't call me," They assure me They will call again tomorrow as you would a good friend you're checking up on. Blocked. They got a new phone. Blocked. They call off another phone. Etc etc forever I guess. Every couple of months.
They just called again from a number I thought I recognized. What the hell am I supposed to do? I feel like such a monster. The piece of me that's just entirely made of guilt is screaming let it go because this is cruel. They don't understand and, if the bruises have healed, why not pretend it never happened. I'm the only one keeping the memories of that abuse alive. I've never told anyone and y'all I'm married. Another part of me that's not there anymore, the logical adult brain, says that the rage was compounding stress and frustration. They were being neglected and abused just like I was, combined with hormonal teenager stuff, and the unique challenges of their disability, and nowhere to put those complicated feelings. So then I think maybe I don't have to accept all of the calls but I could take some, on my terms ... But I don't fucking want to. While I want better for Them and often worry what will happen after our parents die, I never want to talk to Them again. Is that hateful or what? I don't know how to get out of this loop. I considered changing my number and dealing with the stress that comes along with that but I know that's only a temporary fix and would do more harm to me than good. I'm just done. I'm making great strides in my healing but why does family still has the power to fuck up my day like this?

og post
So I found out he was cheating on me with an underaged girl.
Yesterday morning after confronted him and asked flat out if he cheated on me. He admitted that he had receive a blowjob from another woman. He said he blocked her on everything, but she kept creating instagram accounts to contact him. I asked why he hid this, and he said he was ashamed and was looking for the right time to say something.
Something in my gut told me he still was lying, so I snuck into his room and stole his phone while he showered, he forgot to take my thumbprint out of his phone. I looked at his most recent texts, and a few hours before he had texted an unnamed number, “I told GF I was cheating on her, we might not be able to see each other for a while. If you need me message me on insta”. I have never been so hurt by anything in my life, I felt my heart drop as I read the text, I looked at past texts and saw pictures of his dick and her body and him saying she looked better than me.
I moved on to his Instagram, and like a lot of people said, he had a second one he used to dm women. I found a conversation with the girl he had been talking to that started in August 2019, and suggested he had been fucking her since October 2019. For at least one year of our relationship he was unfaithful. I checked the girls profile to see if she was better looking than me, and saw in her bio the name of a high school near us and C/O 2023. My stomach turned and I had to stop myself from throwing up. He was fucking a 15 year old girl. At that point I had seen enough and decided to leave the apartment. I screenshoted everything and sent it to myself. I went to my friends place where showed her everything.
I felt so disgusted and guilty. A bunch of the people that commented on my first post spoke about how he groomed me, and I just now am realizing how right they were. If I hadn’t let our relationship continue and told the other young girls what he did, it might’ve stopped him from doing it to other girls. I refuse to look back at his Instagram because I don’t want to know how many young girls I helped him either rape or abuse in some way. I feel so gross for defending him. I also feel disgusted by the fact that it’s very likely I performed oral sex on him hours after he had slipped his dick into a high schooler. That evening we began the process of reporting him and hopefully he will be thrown under the jail very soon. I’m going to try to do what I can to right the wrongs I did with this, and am planning to get an STI test and some therapy to get past this and raise my self esteem again.
Thanks for those of you that tried to help me.

Sammy was a very good boy, but he was also very lonely. His family had moved to the village two years ago, and he hadn’t made any friends - there wasn’t much place for a quiet child, especially when he was new.
But Sammy did have one friend. When they’d first arrived, Sammy’s parents, knowing he’d be lonely, had taken him to a pet store. He’d wanted a dog or a cat, but a starling had spoken to him, and he’d convinced his parents to buy it.
In no time, Canthi had become Sammy’s best friend. He learned to feed and care for him, and they could always be found together. At times his parents thought it strange how well they communicated, almost as if they could speak to each other, but they ignored it - the relationship between a boy and his best friend was a special one, not to be understood by outsiders.
Years passed, and Sammy adjusted to his new home. He did well in school and even made some friends, but none as close as Canthi. They could often be seen together, Canthi perched on Sammy’s shoulder as they explored the village.
But children can be cruel. And while Canthi did not accompany Sammy to school, their reputation was well known; mocking cries of “bird boy” and “feather head” followed Sammy through the halls. Mostly, he ignored them. But sometimes he became hurt and angry.
One day, Sammy and Canthi were returning home after a day of exploring. As they walked, Sammy heard a noise and turned around. Behind were four boys from the school. He recognized them - they were among his daily tormenters.
“Hey! Where’re you going, bird boy?” one yelled out.
Sammy was immediately wary - he knew what had happened to others these boys didn’t like.
“Home - my parents are expecting me,” he replied deliberately.
“You?” the leader spat in disgust. “I don’t think so. What parents would want you back? We’d be doing them a favor by making you disappear.”
While the leader was talking, two others circled around to block Sammy’s path. He knew what was coming, and he grew afraid. And angry.
As the bullies converged on them, Canthi leapt from his shoulder and landed on the ground. Suddenly, the starling began to grow. And grow. Until he stood on the ground before Sammy, as tall as the schoolhouse.
And like Sammy, he was angry.
He descended on the leader, biting off his arm at the shoulder. As the boy screamed, Canthi swallowed him whole. He then devoured all of the others until no trace of them remained.
Sammy surveyed their surroundings; there was no sign of what had happened. “Thanks, Canthi. I owe you.”
“No problem,” the starling replied from its perch on his shoulder. “What are friends for?”
And on they went, sufficient unto themselves. After all, the relationship between a boy and his best friend was a special one, not to be understood by outsiders.

Kinda a long story and I'll try to give as best context as I can, but I don't know where to start or end with this, and yes I can realize and recognize this is all ultimately my fault.
I dated this guy for the longest starting in high school on and off, ending just about in 2022 when I ended up having his baby. Our relationship had lots of ups and downs, but ultimately I knew I would care for our son no matter what and I am more than happy to do so on my own. It has gotten to the point that I cannot communicate with the child's father, let's call him Carl, peaceably at all. He was really good about helping out in the beginning and now he can't keep a steady job or spend time with his son. Carl and I have not lived together for years now, since just before our son turned 1.
His harassment is not as bad as it could be given that I do not live with him. From last year November 2023 until now, he belittles me each time he tries to spend time with our son, sends me money rarely, and now recently he believes himself to be a "prophet" and I've discovered he has a youtube and tik tok where he speaks about me negatively, has said where I went to high school, and jobs I have had publicly while throwing out occasional bible verses. The last time I brought his son to come see him he threatened with blocking my number, taking me to court for child custody, and calling CPS on me. He also said some very unsavory things to me in person and through text messages. I am not scared that my child will be taken from me given that I am a devoted mother and I am the custodial parent.
He lives with his bestfriend and his bestfriend lives in his grandfather's house with his grandfather there and aunt. He had me blocked for 2 months at the start of this year and did not bother to see his child or ask about him. I threw my son an extravagant birthday and he said he wouldn't go just because he didn't want to be in my presence and "he (our child) won't remember the party".
At this point he has made it clear that our child is not his top priority or even a priority at all. Carl is more focused on my longterm relationship and that our child "isn't confused to who his father is" even though he does not make time to see our child consistently or tries to care for his needs. I am tired of the harassment and threats just for him to see his child and quite frankly do not see any effort on his part being made to care for our son. I want him to be out of my life. I don't know if I should sue for harassment, slander, and emotional distress? Or should I get a restraining order? Or should I simply file for sole custody of our son?
I have put off legal action for quite some time because I wanted to give him time to change his ways and mature, but it doesn't look like it’s happening. I also did not want to be the stereotype, "keeping his son away from him". It would also be draining and time consuming to go to court because I take care of our son by myself, work multiple jobs, and I am currently getting my Bachelors degree. I've tried everything and now I am done.
P.S. I reside in Indiana and I have already filed for child support.
Thanks in advance!!!!

Here is the recap of the 14 monetized posts from Kylea G Weight loss Journey on 05/06/24.
Disclaimer: I am not a physician, influencer, or paid content creator. I am not affiliated with WW. These opinions are my own based on social media content. I wish no harm to Kylea or Joseph "Joe" Gomez.
The tagline of Kylea G Weight loss Journey is, "I changed my life with prayer and a playlist of songs. No surgery, no meds. Just Jesus."
DAILY STATS for 05/06/24:
0/14 posts discussed prayer
0/14 posts discussed music
0/14 posts discussed exercise
4/14 posts shared recipes
1/14 posts were about coffee
9/14 posts were about past, current, or future pets
📢 For our friends at Meta, that means 64% of her monetized posts had nothing to do with weight loss, which is the tagline and purpose of her page.
⚠️ Disordered Eating: Daily Food Consumption (Data compiled from monetized content)
5 WW Points: Protein Pancake Mix Waffle Breakfast Sandwich with Canadian Bacon and Egg + sliced apple and PB fit fruit dip
2 WW Points: Takeout coffee with Premier Protein, almond milk, SF vanilla, and SF white chocolate
2 WW Points: Snapple Zero Sugar Peach Tea + Splenda Brown Sugar marinated crockpot chicken and carrots with canned corn and 2 slices of Sara Lee 45 cal toast + spray vegetable oil
2 WW Points: Dirty Dr. Pepper Protein Ice Cream
📢 For our friends at Meta, this means Kylea consumed 11 out of (up to) 30 WW points in maintenance mode = Disordered eating. This is dangerous messaging to those on a weight loss journey. You have specific policies about eating disorders I am kindly asking you to follow.
Recipes Shared: 1. Trader Joe's Protein Pancake Mix 🚨 She said to use 1/3 of the mix to make 2 waffles. This is the wrong information per their website. 2. Snapple Zero Sugar Peach Tea & Splenda Brown Sugar Marinated Chicken ⚠️ Gaslighting: "I'm always up for trying new things." She argues with followers that make recipe suggestions and just posted about her lifelong food aversions. 3. Dirty Dr. Pepper Protein Ice Cream
📢 Please speak with a medical professional about any questions or concerns you may have about your health.
Comments: The focus of the day was Kylea entering her "dog mom era," defending her decision to bring a Cavapoo (emotional support animal) puppy into their apartment, and going on a shopping spree, satisfying her shopping addiction. Many long-time followers voluntarily unfollowed or were blocked aftefor making valid, rational points due to their years of experience with dogs.
⚠️ Gaslighting, Grief, Pregnancy Loss & Tragedy/Conflict: Kylea had to buy a puppy (not rescue) due to being attacked by dogs as a child. This story grew throughout the day to include being attacked on the face as a young child (3-4 yrs old) and then claiming she was attacked again as a teenager. She only trusts dogs she has known their entire life but will not visit her dad unless his German Shepherd is locked out of the house because she is afraid of large dogs. Please note that she wanted a golden Doodle and wants to love on Drue's dogs (Doodles Kylea has not known their entire lives) and she takes every chance to love on other people's dogs as well.
She has switched from saying the ESA letter came from a therapist to a "mental health care provider" 👀, raising suspicion she used an online service to expedite and obtain the infamous ESA letter. Own your truth, Kylea.
Please remember that she is the "most alive version" of herself and the "happiest" she has been in her journey but also that she has experienced 6 pregnancy losses in 5 years and her grandmother died this year. PLEASE ignore all 💖 and 🤣 that pepper her content, all evidence of traveling alone and with others for pleasure, shopping trips, and functioning WITHOUT an emotional support puppy. She will be FINE, continuing to travel frequently and leaving the puppy with a sitter.
She is aware of the difference between an ESA and service dog's rights in public and will only take Birdie where she is allowed to go. She's got this ALL figured out and does not need your advice. Oliver and Alice will be fine because they will "get used to it." Please disregard the fact she lives in a small 2 bedroom apartment, and both cats have behavior issues.
She is 31 years old, a grown adult, who is responsible... 💤
Now, my soap box. This is what I think is really happening:

1. Kylea started pushing Oliver (male cat) content once Drue Basham announced her pregnancy.
2. Kylea started using specific language about Oliver to humanize him and make her sound like a doting mother.
3. She and Drue have a middle school maturity level "friendship" that at times feels like "frenemies."
4. She is jealous that Drue is pregnant and has more "success" on social media.
5. Since Kylea's weight loss journey ended July 2023 and she refuses to change the name of her page, she needed a new story arc for $$$. People are tired of hearing about Gibson (early pregnancy loss Sep 2022) and Grams (may she RIP 🙏).
6. This puppy "Birdie" is already being exploited and is for content and monetary gain. I will never believe she NEEDED an ESA puppy. Oliver is her unofficial ESA based on her monetized content.
7. This puppy will draw attention in public due to the clothes she is buying for it and the stroller she purchased. She will tell people about her losses and grief. Birdie is an excuse to share her "story," which fuels her obsession with death and seeking praise and validation from strangers.
8. Joe's new work schedule is erratic, and Kylea loves control.
9. She is a 🐈 🐟, always and forever 💖.
10. She is desperate for fame and infamy.
    ☎️ If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, please call or text 988 for assistance.
    

Takeout Purchase: Iced/Blended coffee= $8 est + tip; (There is no proof she went with a friend)
Shopping: *Pet expenses being tallied
All info from Reddit. ✌️

In the face of Tom's "it was just an affair, why isnt everyone over it?" messaging I wanted to post a summary trip down memory lane today. Let's remember (because SO MUCH has happened ) - all the troubling, victim-blaming, and highly controversial incidents he's been involved in over the past year that aren't being addressed on the show itself.
Sandoval has shown a pattern of behavior that's deeply concerning and continues to this day, from making excuses for his actions to engaging in behavior that can only be described as inflammatory and offensive at best. I think it's important to keep this in mind and not forget why public opinion of him remains negative.
(TW: topics include emotional abuse, animal exploitation, Tom joking about human trafficking and racism)
The Howie Interview https://youtu.be/tkKDQQOm3gY?si=gKAFumuWtkZv7aFI
Sandoval kicked off his post-scandal attempt to repair his image by going on a podcast with Howie Mandel. The following is a list of behaviors exhibited by Sandoval during his interview on Howie Mandel Does Stuff that amounted to victim blaming, lying to launch a smear campaign, weaponization of a woman's mental health, and shaming and gaslighting Ariana:

• Blaming Ariana's depression
• Disparaging her intelligence and professional life
• Criticizing her devastation upon discovering his infidelity
• Dismissing her concerns about his preoccupation and cheating
• Misrepresenting her desire to reconcile as coercive
• Distorting her intentions regarding frozen eggs fertilization post-breakup
• Discrediting her skepticism toward his apologies lacking genuine change
• Manipulating the timing of revealing relationship issues to create a twisted narrative to suit his own purposes
• Describes undermining her trust in him throughout their relationship
• Minimizing her efforts towards self-improvement through therapy
  • False claims of physical and verbal abuse by Ariana
  • Exploitation of couples therapy to orchestrate a breakup
  • Betrayal of personal confidences shared during therapy

Months after this happened Howie finally did his pre-interview research, and expressed shock that Tom had been lying to him on Andy Cohen's podcast 🤔
Directly following this, Sandoval proceeded to try to lure his affair partner out of treatment, who he sexually violated by recording her in an intimate moment without consent, by denigrating her attempts to get help and threatening self harm if she didn't leave and come to LA to be with him.
Bravo, despite knowing he had sexually violated a fellow cast member, covered up his on camera admission of this and continues to employ, platform and protect him.
In the months following Rachel's refusal to return to VPR, he directed blame towards her as well as Ariana, painting her as a temptress in a vile attempt to absolve himself from his full accountability by positing that he was just a "helpless man" being lured into the affair.
After a pouring money into a vanity tour that included adding Rachel's name to lyrics and wearing flashing light-up lightening bolt lapels on stage, he filmed VPR and then decided to take a trip to Thailand, where they visited tiger tourist traps and joked about attending ping pong shows known for exploiting women, which is deeply troubling. These activities were treated as a joke on social media.
After receiving public backlash, Sandoval went on Viall Files where in addition to the following key points, he demonstrated that he learned nothing and continued trivializing serious issues like animal welfare:
The Viall Files
https://youtu.be/SnpsSHg0t68?si=kCQ3SeoGIn0UIZGN
⭐ HERE is an excellent video detailing the narc tactics used in a quick recap of his lies and refusal to admit he was wrong in the face of Natalie's receipts: https://www.reddit.com/vanderpumprules/s/XLO6pGjths
The interview with Tom Sandoval on "The Viall Files Podcast" really shows some concerning behaviors that scream narcissism:

• Always Late and Inconsiderate: Sandoval's chronic lateness to the interview just shows he doesn't care about other people's time.
  
• Avoiding Responsibility: When asked about being late, Sandoval tries to blame the interviewer, showing he can't own up to his own actions.
  
• Attitude Problem: His dismissive and kind of rude tone when called out on being late just proves he doesn't respect others' concerns.
  
• No Real Apologies: Even though he's late, Sandoval doesn't really seem sorry or take any real responsibility. He's all about excuses.
  
• Zero Empathy or Accountability: Throughout the interview, Sandoval doesn't show any real understanding of how his actions affect others. He's all about deflecting and minimizing.
  

He also shows major contempt for the only woman in the room and won't even look at her the few times he addresses her. It truly showed him fully mask off.
The New York Times Interview
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/02/20/magazine/tom-sandoval-vanderpump.html
Continuing full steam ahead mask-off and showing us just how self absorbed and detached from reality Sandoval is, this entire article is worth a read. Most notable and disgusting were his comments equating two black men (who have nothing in common but being black and making national news), and equating those situations to Scandoval.
Comparing his affair scandal to the tragic events involving George Floyd and O.J. Simpson is not just inappropriate—it's outright racist. George Floyd's death was a result of police brutality and highlights deep-seated systemic racism, while O.J. Simpson's case involved complex legal issues and societal debates. Equating these serious issues with a personal scandal trivializes the gravity of systemic racism and police violence experienced by the Black community. It's essential to understand the significance of each situation and avoid using such comparisons that undermine the struggles and injustices faced by the black community.
Bravo has never addressed how harmful his statements were. George Floyd's family put out a statement explaining the negative impact his careless words had on his little girl at school:
https://www.reddit.com/vanderpumprules/s/dUVbv4VewU
Tom, for his part, put a brief pr "apology" in his IG story (he didn't even make it a true IG post) and then immediately blocked some of the most popular black Bravoverse creators, @bravowhileblack for daring to speak up and object to his statements. For POC voices on the matter (and great Bravo content in general) I highly recommend checking out their IG:
https://www.reddit.com/vanderpumprules/s/o3CDKW8DKy

“Sorry, my massive balls were weighing me down”, Shawn said so matter-of-factly that it sent all three of us into a fit of laughter. We’d made a bet that whoever made it to Locust Ave. last would have to pick up the next bar tab. Shawn had lost.
​
Even though I had ran cross country in high school, I could still feel my heart pounding and fluttering from the short distance we’d raced. Still, I had finished second and wouldn’t have to pick up the ignorantly expensive tab at Darceys Sports Bar. I’d banked on the win, only having twelve dollars stuffed loosely in my pocket at that time.
​
We continued down Locust towards Main, eager to continue our weekend debauchery. The noon bell tolled just before we hit the main drag and I knew that I wouldn’t make it much past three with the prolific buzz I had already caught.
​
“Ya’ll see that bartender eyeballing me?” Shawn grinned, shrugging his shoulders.
​
“Yeah, no shit, it’s called maximizing your tips, dippy”, Dimi laughed and shoved Shawn who wobbled to and fro, nearly falling off the sidewalk and dumping into the street. “Besides, she was probably in her 50s”, he continued.
​
Shawn shrugged again, “cougars need love too”.
​
A bunch of kids poured out of the small local theater as we turned onto main street, a tired looking woman tried to keep up behind them. It was Miss Flickinger, the Canpaluca High English teacher and resident librarian. Most kids didn’t much care for her, but I’d always had a soft spot considering my love of writing. Maybe she was easier on me for that reason.
​
“Hey, Miss Flickinger!”, I blurted, my drunken idiocy must’ve been glaringly obvious. She smiled, a wrinkled, tired smile, and continued on to the Chrysler Town and Country that the kids had congregated near.
​
As soon as we were out of earshot, Shawn piped up, “I told ya’ she was a bitch, Mark, old hag didn’t even acknowledge you”, his face crumpled into a toddler-esque sneer.
​
“No she ain’t”, I spat, “you’d be pressed too if you were toting around a car full of little pecker woods like that”, the three of us burst into hysterics. I couldn’t help but feel a little proud that I’d made them laugh, I love making people laugh.
​
We meandered down the street for a while longer, sometimes stopping to fuck with each other some more, before Darceys came into view. The squat brick building stood out like a sore thumb between the polished insurance agency and butcher shop.
​
Finally, after taking much longer than it should’ve, we arrived at the bar.
​
“I’ll be in, in a second, ya’ll”, I called after them, but the door had already eaten them up before the words fully left my mouth. ‘Assholes’, I thought, smiling. It wasn’t often we were able to all get together, but when we did, it was always fun… and always trouble.
​
Dimi, short for Dimitri, had been studying at the neighboring city's University. He wanted to be an engineer, but Shawn and I had our doubts. Not that Dimi wasn’t smart, he was very intelligent, but his work ethic left something to be desired.
​
Shawn, up to this point, had been the most successful of the three of us despite dropping out of high school. He had worked his way up to being a foreman at a small tree-trimming outfit at the young age of 23. He’s built like a rock but I’d reckon’ he’s about as smart as one, too.
​
There was also Shawns growing cocaine habit, which he’d managed well at one time but was growing more and more obvious that it was out of control. ‘As is tradition’, I chuckled, thinking about all the times he’d gotten us kicked out of bars for being too belligerent. Ever since his high school sweetheart had left him, partly due to the cocaine and partly due to his infidelity, his spiral had grown even steeper. Dimi and I were keeping a close watch, after all he was still our friend.
​
I pulled the tattered pack of L&Ms from my back pocket and lit one up. Cigarettes always tasted good when you were a few drinks deep.
​
The sun sat directly overhead, casting a haze above the roads which connected at the fourway of the town square. Between our race and the thick heat, I could feel the growing weight of my sweat-soaked shirt. Either way, the cigarette tasted magnificent and the occasional breeze had made the heat a little more bearable.
​
A buzzard circled overhead, waiting for the Chrysler to pass by before returning to the rotting coon which had been half-smushed into the blacktop. Gross.
​
Across the street from the town square, a gaggle of folk entered the new Mexican place which had opened last year. Before then, the Dollar Tree had been the main attraction of Canpaluca. Buttfuck, Nowheresville, is what I’d always called it when people asked me.
​
Ordinarily, especially on an oppressively hot day like this, the town square would be empty. Not today. A small collection of townsfolk, some familiar and some not, were arranged in a circle around a man dressed in a white button-up and burgundy slacks. His voice rose and fell in a cadence similar to a preacher giving a sermon. The group surrounding him was silent.
​
For some reason, that man looked familiar. But from where?
​
“Fuck”, the cigarette, which was nothing but filter, had burnt the tip of my finger. I threw it down, smashing the cancer stick until it was nothing but a spot on the ground.
​
I studied the preaching man for a while longer before heading inside to join the other two.
​
Despite my previous disbelief we’d make it past much past the young afternoon, some of Shawns snow perked me right up. Even though I didn’t condone his heavy usage of the stuff, I couldn’t help but dabble in it from time to time. Especially when you’re out day-drinking. Gotta stay alive, right?
​
With dusk came the pretty ladies, replacing the leathery farmers who’d gone home to continue their drinking away from the young, rowdy crowd.
​
I didn’t give the preaching man much thought the rest of that night, my alcohol and speed-fueled brain was preoccupied with the blonde beauty who’d taken up residence on the barstool directly by me. Along with her, Shawn had already tried his best pick-up lines on every other person who didn’t have a dick in the establishment. When it was apparent he wouldn’t be taking anyone home that night, he’d resorted to finishing his bag and getting as fucked up as his body would allow.
​
At that moment I realized two things, I didn’t have much longer to get this girls number and that Shawn would soon be asked to leave. We’d have to help him get home.
​
I’d never been real good at talking to women, wondering if it was better to be polite or act in a more mysterious way. I opted for the latter.
​
I asked the bartender for a slip of paper and a pen before jotting my name and number down, handing it to the girl I’d come to find out was named Carter.
​
“Give me a call if you’d like, I gotta take his goofy ass home”, I said, thumbing over at Shawn who was pestering some guys over a pool game. She smiled and accepted the paper, though there seemed to be something else about her face. Disappointment that I was leaving, maybe?
​
As I spun in the barstool, signaling to Dimi (who was glued to one of the four slot machines by the entryway) that it was time to leave, her soft voice called behind me.
​
​
“It was nice meeting you, Mark”, she said, smiling and meeting my gaze with her glassy eyes.
​
I stopped, sure that my wild eyes and clenched jaw must’ve been terrifying but she only continued to smile. ‘God is she pretty’, I thought. I must’ve studied her big, diamond eyes for an eternity before responding.
​
“Maybe we can get some coffee”, even with the extra cocaine-induced confidence, I turned quickly and started for the door. That was that.
​
After some coaxing and false promises we managed to get Shawn to Dimi’s car and headed off into the night. The ride was nauseating and immediately forgotten. After we’d gotten Shawn home, who lived on the edge of town by the golf course, we returned to the townsquare where my apartment complex sat opposite Darceys bar.
​
If Dimi and I exchanged words before he himself set off, then I’d forgotten them.
​
I stumbled out of the lagoon blue Jeep and down the sidewalk leading to the front door of the complex. My apartment being the first left upon entry, was easy enough to find but had become a difficult task once the blow had worn off and the alcohol caught up.
​
I fumbled for the set of keys in my pocket, pressing the main door to the complex open. As I flipped through the keys I almost ran into the woman standing at my door.
​
“Oh shi-”, I stepped backward, nearly losing my footing. Once I’d steadied myself I got a good look at the stranger who was blocking my way. She was short and round, her lips were pulled back in that same way all meth heads did once they lost their last tooth. Her hair was incredibly curly and incredibly thin, her scalp apparent even through my double-visioned lenses. She smiled a hideous, toothless smile.
​
She stepped forward, grabbing weakly at my arms.
​
“Help uth thee the other thide”, she said, her grip strengthening. “Help uth, help uth thee”, she was growing hysterical as she began to shake me. A surge of adrenaline reawoke my numb and aching body, batting her fat, grubby hands away as I continued searching for the right key to my apartment. She was persistent.
​
She continued grabbing at me as I slid in between her and the doorway, using my back as a shield to the deluded thing.
​
“Help uth, mithter, pleathe”, her voice came out in ragged, breathless waves. She smelled of rot.
​
Truthfully, despite the danger the woman posed, I still feel horrible for the way I shoved her. She fell slow, comically slow, her head smacking the rail of the stairs which lead up to the second floor of the complex. A clump of flesh and scraggly hair took up residence on the edge of the railing, a pool of blood seeped from her head.
​
I know it was wrong now, and I knew it was wrong then, but I left the woman laying there and I fled to the comfort of my bed as soon as I found the right key. Sleep came easy that night.
​
I didn’t awake until just before noon the next day, the birds chirping outside felt like BB pellets shooting around my aching head. My heart was racing madly. This would be one hell of a hangover. I rolled over to the other side of the bed, searching the nightstand for my phone before finding it in my pocket of the jeans I had slept in. The screen was blurry and bright.
​
‘Still up for coffee ;)’, the text read at the top of my list of notifications. It was Carter. For a moment, just a moment, I forgot about the terrible drumming in my head.
​
As I laid sideways in the bed, my clothes still on from the day before, I conjured up the best response I possibly could.
​
‘What time?’, was all I could manage, but it would have to do. I threw the phone somewhere on the bed and massaged my temples, trying to recall if anything particularly embarrassing had happened the previous night. As I scanned through my memories, I recalled the woman who had been standing outside my apartment.
​
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK”, I yelled, despite my head screaming in protest. I jumped up from the bed and ran for the door, awaiting the gore or the police standing on the other side. Instead, there was nothing, not one drop of blood.
​
Maybe it had been a bad dream? It all seemed so vivid, though. I ignored the icky feeling in my gut and started for the shower.
​
If it wasn’t for the coffee date Carter and I agreed on for later that afternoon, that Sunday would’ve been the epitome of misery. Instead, it seemed hopeful.
​
I left the complex, past the mysteriously blood-free entryway and back outside into the real world. If yesterday had been hot, then today was blazing. Not a great mix with a hangover. As I walked past the town square, a slightly larger congregation of people had gathered beneath the gazebo at its centermost point. The man in the middle was giving his sermon-esque speech as the crowd of folk watched in awe.
​
“We must see the other side, we WILL see the other side”, he sang.