Hello!
I want to start off by saying that I'm mostly looking for female friends since a good amount of the guys I've gotten messages from before have made me pretty wary.
Anyways...here's a little about me!
- I love art and crafts. I occasionally like to paint or do little projects when I feel motivated or get a creative spark.
- I love to read. I enjoy a good fiction novel/series (especially fantasy/adventure). I also enjoy reading manga and webtoons.
- I love listening to music, especially pop, Kpop, and rock especially (Three Days Grace, Doja Cat, BTS, etc).
-I love Marvel (Captain America is my fav) and Fast and Furious (Fast X was pretty freaking awesome!), but I like a good action and/or comedy movie.
-I occasionally play games. I have a Switch and Xbox One with a few games. I enjoy playing Animal Crossing, Pokemon, and Sims, but I've also played Halo, Saints Row, Skyrim, a little bit of Fallout 4, etc. I just started playing Hades on my Switch.
I tend to be pretty open-minded, sarcastic, a little flirty, and quiet at times, but I do enjoy getting to know people! Preferably, if you message me, I want to talk to someone 21-30 who will stick around longer than a few hours (might be fine with as low as 18 depending on if we click well enough). Let me know what kind of books/movies/games you enjoy, or we could even talk about the MCU (I haven't seen Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 yet though!). I look forward to talking to you!

I believe it's from the 80s, but I'm not sure. I don't know any of the lyrics.
The song starts with a melody that sounds very similar to one used at the beginning of Fred: The Movie, when Fred takes off from his house.
(can be heard in this reaction at 14:08)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UOYr_kD9GE4
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The chorus of the song has female voices going "aaaaahhhh, aaaaaaahhh" in the background as the main singer sings the chorus.
The song is happy/upbeat and somewhat fast paced
​
Does any of this make sense ???

By that I mean Sans and Papyrus. (and maybe gaster, judging by the fact that they share a naming scheme, but i'm not going to focus on him)
Anyways, we all know what Sans and Papyrus are, right? They're skeleton monsters. Sure, okay. But have you ever REALLY thought about it?
They aren't just any skeletons. Lots of animals have skeletons—dogs do, birds do. But Sans and Papyrus are HUMAN SKELETONS. For Undertale/Deltarune's world, that's got to have big implications, right? Humans being the only other race in the world? Or am I just cornplating...
You have to understand. This is like if you had a fantasy world made of dog-people and cat-people, and one of the cat main characters is named "Woof", and they bark a lot and like chewing bones. Like that obviously has to mean something. It would be weirder for it NOT to mean anything.
I feel with sans and papyrus, it's so on-the-nose that it just, had an underflow error or something and now it seems so obvious that no one considers it.
If we had Alphys talking about wanting to be a human in UT, we would be racing to make theories about it. Ralsei sings don't forget, and we're theorizing that he's the singer in DR's credits. If any monster said something like "hmm it sure would be nice to have blood and hair" we would be like. Ok you're obviously related to humanity somehow.
Oh wait. Sans is shown to have blood, which only humans have.
Oh wait. Papyrus talks about styling his hair. Twice. And talks about wanting to have SKIN when you talk to him about the racecar bed. Even though we specifically know he doesn't consider himself to have skin (quote is literally just "I HAVE NO SKIN" while talking to Undyne in a phone call).
I have no idea what the actual explanation is, like what...sans & papyrus used to be humans, but then went through some experiment and turned into monsters? I guess that could be true, but that sounds dumb. But these breadcrumbs have to be leading somewhere. What do we think?
I even think this idea was lampshaded in Deltarune, where there's an NPC that asks

• If humans are made of bones...
• Where does skeletons come from...?

Yeah it's a funny joke. But really, where DO skeletons come from?? Lorewise, isn't it super weird that there exists a monster species with the exact same body morphology as humans? Like think about it. Obviously Toby doesn't plan every little detail in the world, but he is still meticulous, and I feel like he would want things to at least make sense.
Though conversely, maybe this NPC is actually poking fun at the idea, because it doesn't make much sense...
Potential counter-evidence:
Toby's initial ideas for Sans and Papyrus came from Helvetica, which was a webcomic which had Skeletons with font names. but there were skeletons named after fonts in that.
Because this was Sans & Papyrus' initial inspiration, it's somewhat less likely that they were intended to act as a parallel to humans.
What I mean is, it wasn't Toby going: "I want to make a monster species that's really similar to humans" and decided on skeletons as a way to deliver that.
Because we know Helvetica inspired them, it would have had to be "Wait, these skeleton characters I'm making...skeletons are basically humans right? Let me incorporate that into their lore somewhere.". Which is a bit less likely, based on the idea of parsimony (simplest explanation is usually the correct one)

A day late but we're here, my little cheeto eaters! Remember as always to grab your bingo cards and let's get our little long weekend slumber party going. This whole fucking thing is FORTY MINUTES LONG, you're all lucky that my sibling who was supposed to spend the day chilling at my place has apparently forgotten that plan.
​

• There's a new opening style than all her other vlogs. Not sure if that's because of Morgan but also I don't care enough to go hunt down exactly which influencer she cribbed this style from. It features a lot of horse butts. Also her using her phone in bed, which I thought she didn't do because she's mindful.
  • The music she uses is this song, which is DEFINITELY not copyright-free, so have fun learning how actual copyright law works, Paige! The lyrics playing over the are "there are times when/it feels right to/run away, run away/when you ask the same old questions/every day, every day/Why do I set the stage?/Why do I find my place on the pedestal?", because I guess Paige went to the Love is Blind school of "make sure the lyrics of whatever song you use are really, REALLY literal"
• Giveaway winners! Congrats to the three people who won a pile of Paige's old garbage! Don't worry though, if you didn't win her trash, she'll be doing a lot more of these because she "appreciates [us] guys so much" and "wants us to experience some of the things that I'm so grateful to get".
  • Nothing says grateful like giving away your extras to strangers and instead of doing anything to promote them like you were supposed to in return for getting them for free, using the existence of this stuff as a way to leverage yourself up on the algorithm.
    • There's also Dairy Boy in the giveaways, of course, because no one's buying it organically.
• She explains moving Louie, it's the same stuff she said on Instagram. Weirdly horses are like the only animal I've never gotten super obsessed with, so I have no idea how BS this is, but it's almost word-for-word her IG explanation, so it's the same level of BS that was. She does word this though as it being a "charity project" and "passion project" she "donated to", because there was a dearth I guess of places to keep your horse in the rich people part of Connecticut.
  • She has to first run to get a grazing muzzle so Louie doesn't overeat in the pasture. This sets off my internal bad animal treatment alarms in a huge way, but again, don't know enough about horses to know if this is warranted.
• Just kidding! Don't let Paige into a Tractor Supply unsupervised, she's too much of a ~country girl~ to not come out with "so much shit". She also got this beef jerky that looked "so good". It's Iowa Smokehouse beef jerky.
  • It apparently looked good because all she had for breakfast was coffee. Why she only had coffee I'm not sure, since it's not like she didn't have the time to get something better. Coffee and beef jerky for breakfast sure is a choice, and one I'm sure her intestines didn't make her pay for later. This summer is all about ~hot girl indigestion~.
  • Story time! This looks like "legit, real beef jerky", which Paige knows because when Paige was in boarding school she stayed with a family who had a lot of cows and they made their own beef jerky, which Paige was of course intimately involved in, I'm sure. Anyway this makes her have such high standards, which is why she loves when somewhere like Tractor Supply (an enormous fucking chain, Paige) or a "local country mart" sells jerky because it's always better.
    • Fun fact that took me less than thirty seconds to Google, this "real" beef jerky is also available on Amazon
• More of the same definitely not copyrighted song as she packs up Louie's stuff and moves him. There's a lot of woman laughing alone with salad shots as she packs up and pretends to talk to... someone and "carry stuff" (ie: stand around touching her own body awkwardly)
• Some weird things about this whole sequence - 1) the "farm" she moves Louie to appears to have very poor, dilapidated fencing, red flag for me. 2) Paige is wearing a white shirt and then a white cardigan the entire time while DEALING WITH A HORSE and it never gets stained or dirty, which tells me she did fuck all, 3) the only guy with her is this big bald much older man who I assume is the guy starting this venture, meaning he's almost certainly who films her cantering around on Louie without her wearing a helmet laughing, which is so unbearably awkward. Like imagine asking a random older dude to film you doing that in a pure white sweater, 4) when Paige brushes Louie he sheds SO MUCH. Is that bad? It feels bad. When a dog sheds that much, even in the spring, it usually means no one's been brushing it regularly, 5) Louie has such a dip in his back and it makes me wince every time, especially when Paige shows him next to another horse. I don't know what that's from, but I hate it and it doesn't look comfortable for him.
• Nance and Baloo are at home when Paige gets back so she's just going to "throw on a little outfit" and they're going to go out for Mother's Day in Brooklyn. Paige really, really didn't want to go into the city because I guess she's suuuuch a country girl (nice, Paige) but she's doing it for her mom and to see her sister
  • Oh my god she DOESN'T CHANGE HER SHIRT FROM THE BARN, she wears a white henley, what look like blue pajama pants, and a leather coat.
  • Nance steals some of Paige's clothes (how I don't know since they're totally different sizes) and according to Paige is"slaying the boots", a phrase I will pay actual cash money to never hear Paige say again
• Next morning, return of the out of focus camera, though it may have been by accident this time because it stays out of focus. Anyway serious business Paige with her serious business glasses is starting the day with some "desk work". Is that a thing? A phrase? What the fuck is "desk work"? Has anyone who actually does work at a desk ever called it that?
  • When she's in Europe it's definitely harder for her to sit and do computer work even though she has a laptop but starting the day on her desktop at the same time as her "whole team" (WHO) it really makes a difference for them being all on the same page.
    • Okay so my actual job in real life is doing shipping and order management for a small creative goods company. I know very intimately what goes into product development, order fulfillment, etc, and Paige is just straight up saying nonsense. Like I paused and gave serious thought to what possibly she could be talking about, and I don't know what all this "work" is. If she was making everything in-house that's one thing, but that's not work she could possibly be doing or overseeing from Europe. But if she's outsourcing stuff, having it sent to a warehouse, and, then paying someone to ship it out for her, I guess she's doing... development? But that makes no sense because again, she outsources everything. She isn't doing wholesale, there isn't a lot to arrange for pop-ups if everything is outsourced and pre-made and she's only supposedly having one this summer, she only has eight products so the website maintenance is pretty easy, as is accounting, and she only really sells stuff around a drop which she does maybe twice a year.......... like genuinely I'm baffled here. It's my job to do this exact same thing every day with products that aren't jeans or sweatshirts or whatever and I'm so, confused about what her "work" is.
    • Allegedly they're on the "final push" for so many big projects and you know what, if any of these projects involve Paige actually doing anything besides feeling three different samples of denim swatches or deciding which vendor she's going to outsource oven mitts to and saying "I like this" or "I don't like that", I will issue her an apology. I feel safe in the idea that I won't have to issue her an apology, but I will keep on on offer in the off-chance I'm wrong.
    • She just finished making a line sheet (genuine lol once I looked up what that was) and apparently we are going to freeeeak out when we see her new merch - sorry, elevated lifstyle products.
    • It's denim. She's been working on denim. She shows us the final washes but it's in direct sunlight so it's all blown out and out of focus so they look mostly white? But she got the "perfect color". IDK, it's a light wash. I prefer dark wash, actually. It's a lot more flattering and forgiving. But we've already determined my aesthetic and Paige's aesthetic are not the same aesthetic. She's nobly pushed back production six months because she refused to do a full run unless the wash was absolutely perfect. It was so expensive but she needed to love love love the denim, because it's really what she's passionate about and what she wants to do, she wants to be the best denim brand out there. You know, because she's hand-making this denim herself, not just sending instructions to low-wage Chinese workers while being afforded the privilege to fuss over the perceived quality for six months because she has parents who are willing to flush money down the toilet on this. Also, for the record, but denim is like... a choice? Like what is the vision, exactly, because every clothing retailer has some version of denim and people are already super married to their faves, so how exactly is this business model working for her, here. And it doesn't look like stretch denim either, which means it's going to fit a very, very narrow group of body types. Like speaking from ample experience crying in GAP dressing rooms over my "freakish" (read, not built like a popsicle stick) as a teenager in a time before jeggings, jeans are not forgiving and easily worn by everyone. The thing about what Paige is doing so far is that it's universal enough. You don't have to really tailor an oversized sweatshirt or trucker hat to fit you. Everyone can make room for another overpriced candle. But denim??? IDK girl, you do you.
• Paige makes Olivia a latte. Olivia comes in and say it's story time about coffee. Paige asks if she should turn off the camera for this and Olivia says no so Paige continues to film herself preening while Olivia tells her a story about how messy she is frothing milk. Paige spends the entire time interrupting her to go "no! No! No! No!"
  • They look at buttons and rivets and embossed leather patches for the back, and then sweatpants leg panel samples. Baloo hangs out with them and Paige tells him he's stinky. She eats toast.
    • WHAT IS THE POINT OF ANY OF THIS. She's not DESIGNING anything, she's just doing that thing like, you know when you're choosing your racer in Mario Kart and there are a couple hundred variations of wheels and chassis and you just choose the unique combos you want to put together? She's doing that but with generic clothing. I've been jokingly referring to her stuff as "elevated Zazzle" but this isn't even Zazzle because Zazzle you UPLOAD ACTUAL ARTWORK TO. Why is she re-inventing the wheel? What improvements does she think she's making TO A PROVERBIAL WHEEL.
• Not sponsored showing off gifting time! It's not in focus at all so we can't really see any of the products (professional!). One of the products she mentions is that she's friends with CYNTHIA ROWLEY'S DAUGHTER who has nepo baby'd her way into dropping oven mitts and aprons that look like Strawberry Shortcake's rejects. Like they're cute, but they're again little strawberries on white. Like tell me none of you silver spoon-ass bitches cook without telling me by making WHITE OVEN MITTS. Those will turn yellowish and burnt after, what a single batch of brownies? Taking a piece of toast out?
  • This haul includes her tennis Tommy bag. Not sure how she got it since she brags about it being "sold out everywhere even Poshmark and depop"
  • There is sooooooo much of this free bullshit. How does she even get this much free bullshit. Why do companies waste so much money sending this to people like Paige who don't fucking care and openly give it away. What is the point of an influencer. IDK at this point I'm spiraling, this vlog is like a third of the way through and nothing has happened.
• Paige unpacks with Nance. She has so many clothes and I don't think she's worn any of them. Full disclosure that this was the point I actually got annoyed and had to take a break and play some video games for fifteen minutes because while growing up comfortably or on the upper end of middle class in a generational wealth type of town has taught me a lot of patience for people with too much money, there is at some point a limit to how conspicuous over-consumption and waste I can handle, and that point for me came when I saw how many sweaters Paige has that look like they've never been worn. And the on top of this she has a giant suitcase of stuff she's going to depop! The environment? Never heard of her.
• Paige is going to get groceries. She's needed Nance's help to do all the hard stuff she's had to do today like going grocery shopping and having soooo many clothes. She goes to Trader Joe's, then goes to a horse shop and of course buys MORE SHIT SHE DOESN'T NEED. I'm not condoning what the French did when they invented the guillotine, like that was really violent and horrible, but the point is that the longer I watch this vlog the more I'm understanding their motivations.
• Paige goes on a sunset ride with her friend Lauren, this song plays in the background as a flagrant copyright violation, I realize at this point that there's no way this video is going to stay up without Youtube copyright striking it so I have to be extra detailed for posterity and we still have so much to go and this is going to take forever. Louie's back still looks horrible and as someone with inherited lordosis, I feel for him.
• Tommy facetime! He says exactly one sentence and catches a tiny fish, for those of you keeping track on your Bingo cards.
• Nance is still over Paige's house when Paige gets back because she never leaves. Paige is wearing old Dairy Boy sweats. At this point when I scrolled down to press the play button again I realized that Nance has posted a comment about how proud she is of Paige within seconds of the video being uploaded. I live with my mother and sometimes I still need her help on stuff like yelling at health insurance until they cover stuff for me and even I am confused by how codependent their relationship is. Like doesn't Nance have her own house? A husband? Other children? Paige has spent this entire vlog needing Nance's help to do everything from grocery shopping to folding laundry and acting like a teenager. It's a rich text for a therapist to one day unpack.
  • It's Taco Monday, this is just a dumb and boring version of Paige performing the white people taco night song. Also bewildering, Paige seemingly DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACO STUFF. It involves almost no cooking! She even bought the spices pre-packaged! She needs Nance's help on this too!
  • Undisclosed new cooking knife brand product placement. They are amazed that it............slices.
    • OH NO SHE SAYS SLAYING WITH BOOTS AGAIN ABOUT THE KNIFE END THIS MISERY
  • Ahahhahah the reason they're so impressed is because they've apparently been cooking with unsharpened knives. Like Paige didn't know you could sharpen knives. A master chef, ladies and gentlemen!
• Oh god we're only halfway through. Paige wakes up the next morning. She got so freckly yesterday (read: she's courting melanoma and is going to age like a raisin). She's going to go play tennis at a club in Greenwich her parents are members at (Note, she shows the logo which means you can spend five seconds googling to discover it's this club. Membership is invite only and it's gauche apparently to discuss how much membership costs, but the estimate is EIGHTY GRAND A YEAR. To be clear, that is nearly THREE TIMES the average American household income. Paige is the child of people who spend more in one year to play tennis a few times a week than most people do getting fucking doctorates, which clears up a few things for me: one, I've never gotten those texts where she casually demands Morgan Wallen pay her back tens of thousands of dollars like it's $50, but I guess to her it is like $50, and two, why everything about Paige and how she acts towards people and money in this video is a million times more effective at radicalizing people on economic policy than anything Bernie Sanders has ever lain awake at night dreaming of.
  • Camera going in and out of focus during this explanation.
  • Ah she's doing it with her mom. Again. Heaven forbid Paige breathe without Nance.
  • Oh also she has to shoot an ad in the tennis dress, but she definitely likes and would go to play tennis anyway.
• More unboxing undisclosed adver- I mean PR.
  • I'm so serious, tthe flagrant wealth being thrown around in this video and the amount of free stuff a trust fund baby with absolutely no merits or skills whatsoever is getting because she has 300K followers on Instagram that she probably bought half of is like the best argument for socialism I have ever seen.
• .Paige gets dressed in the third outfit of the day to go to the dentist. The pants are pointedly too big on her so they don't stay up in the waist and create this weird enormous kangaroo pouch around her crotch. She pairs that with a toddler sized medium t-shirt for a football team she's probably never heard of, a choker that looks like something a boy band member in the early 2000's would wear but out of fake pearls, and cowboy boots. It's... the look sure is looking, let's just say that.
• Paige opines on how much she prefers to do vlogs at home, but don't worry, she won't stop doing travel vlogs for us! (Oh thank goodness, where would we be without the insights we get from them.) She feels like they add variety to her channel (what, no, we LOVE coming with you to the barn to watch you ride without a helmet over unsourced music! five times a vlog!). Sometimes she feels like there's this pressure to show us as much as she can, which explains why all we see in her travel vlogs is hotel room bathrooms, tennis matches, and the tops of various tabletops in restaurants. Anyway she feels like there's pressure because in reality she's there for Tommy. Which we KNOW, that's the entire PROBLEM, Paige. If you were HONEST about the fact that being a WAG on tour sucks and you don't get to actually see the places you're pretending to really go and immerse yourself in, we WOULD HAVE FEWER COMPLAINTS AND YOU'D FEEL LESS ANXIETY, the problem is that you have to keep compulsively lying about how cultured you are and how you really ~got a feel~ for the location. Just stop lying!!! Stop!!! Lying!!! Challenge!!!!! The anxiety you feel and the reason you have to monitor this subreddit comes from your CONSTANT LYING.
  • Ugh she would NEVER have gone to ROME if it weren't for Tommy. I think this is a ploy for authenticity but boy is it coming across as privileged.
    • I do think in her own Paige way though this entire monologue she has is about something I've noticed her talking around a lot - I think she's afraid if she stops travelling and being a WAG no one will care about her. I think she's terrified of doing what makes her happy, which is being home, hanging out with her mom, riding her horses, and spending her parents' money. But if she just let herself do the things she actually liked and stopped trying to always pretend to be cooler and more interesting than she is, no one would keep paying attention to her, because it's not like she has a sparkling personality or wit or unique point of view. Like I'm an interesting person to talk to, but if I tried to make a vlog of my life it would be pretty boring. I work a 9-5 M-F job and the most interesting part of my life is when I go to a concert or craft fair on the weekend or one of my neighbors goes out of town and I watch their cat. It's not riveting, but I also don't need to be doing fascinating things in order to be or feel like an interesting person. But people like Paige who need to always be travelling and going to events and flaunting how busy they are are often really sad and empty people. They're not doing any of the little mundane things that make people happy and spending time connecting with the people around them, they're just always moving around because they're afraid if they stop for five seconds, people will see that the only thing they have going for them is all that movement and travelling. I think Paige is constantly torn between the anxiety that comes with constant travel and isolation and putting herself on display and removing herself from the things that bring her a sense of calm and security, and the anxiety that if she allows herself to feel calm and secure, she'll lose the attention she craves. IDK seems like a thing she shouldn't keep indirectly admitting to in vlogs, seems to kind of undercut half of her material, but what do I know.
  • Also she really is going to positively contribute to Tommy and his life and career, ie: she needs to go home and feels comforted by home because that's where her mom and Amanda wait on her hand and foot and everything is about her, which she misses when she's with Tommy because when she's on tour with Tommy she has to accept that he's the center of attention and she's not.
  • Her home vlogs have been performing the best, like, significantly. Since she probably buys views and comments, this just means she likes them better and therefore buys more engagement for them.
  • Apparently her analytics are telling her that 30% of her views are coming from the "explore" feature, which she says is YouTube rewarding her for being consistent, and, uh. No. Not how that works.
    • I mean yes if you buy engagement it will put you in the algorithm more, but this is the time in the video where she accidentally self-owns. If you're an actual channel getting actual views from people who actually enjoy watching you, then VERY LITTLE of your viewership should be coming from the "explore" feature, MOST of it should be coming from subscribers or regular viewers or people who watch similar content. That's how the majority of people watch YouTube or find new videos to watch. But if fully a third of your viewers are coming from what's essentially a randomizer button, that pretty much confirms Paige is buying views and/or that a lot of viewers leave after a minute or two. Because if her content was good on its own, people would see it and subscribe, and then she wouldn't need to rely on the "explore" feature. But if she, as she says, is consistently getting a third of her viewership from that feature, than that means that a third of people are just randomly watching whatever YouTube puts in front of them and not engaging with her at all, meaning the ONLY POSSIBLE explanation is that she's essentially buying enough engagement to keep appearing on the explore page, but buying the opportunity to be put in front of people isn't actually getting her a larger audience because what she's serving them is a warmed-over turd.
  • Anyway Paige is counting on you not knowing the extreme basics and trusting that she "knows someone who used to work at YouTube who told her that's how the algorithm works"
    • Um if you don't know about social media - no one who works at YouTube or any social media company knows how their algorithm works unless they're the ones writing it, and if they do know, they're not going to tell you because that's extremely valuable, proprietary information and also there's like a lot of papers and NDAs and non-competes they'd be breaking if they did. They're telling you to upload consistently because it's good FOR THE MEDIA COMPANY. The company is trading in being a content hub, so they need people to consistently be uploading content, ie: raising the value of their site in a way they don't have to pay for. That's the entire business model of every. Single. Digital media platform. Heck, that's how most dating apps work too. The product is data. They want you to be giving them free product.
  • "I don't know, like I don't like doing things just for social media anymore?" HAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH
    • And a week later you spent a weekend attending influencer parties in the Hamptons for....... what exactly. The scintillating conversation?????
    • She's very quick to say that's not the case if she has to shoot an ad! Loves shooting ads! Please keep sending her free stuff!
    • God this is taking me multiple hours but at this point I've sunk too much time in and also am convinced this won't stay up for copyright issues, so I'm taking a break to like, stretch and clean the bathroom, anything to get me moving and listening to my own thoughts which are in complete sentences.
• I'm back after cleaning the bathroom. I've been at this so long that my sibling has shown up. But I only have ten minutes to go and I REFUSE TO GIVE UP. This whole completely unhinged and unintentionally revealing rant has approximately a trillion uses of the word "like" is from 21:00 to 26:00 and if you want to watch it you can. I probably should have transcribed it for a full AP Lit level analysis, but I'm tired. If we're lucky, when Paige tries to re-upload this with copyright-free music, she'll have kept that in there.
• Paige ordered a shed! She's so excited!
• The fence looks mildly less jacked up when they go back. Paige is brushing Louie constantly in this video. Fourth time I think we've seen her do this. I feel like there's a lot more to horse care than brushing them and she only shows us this part because it looks aesthetic and she doesn't do any of the actual hard or necessary parts like shoveling horse shit, but what do I know.
  • This sequence uses unsourced but definitely copyright song number three!
  • Fun fact: Paige is the same fake brown color as Louie's dappled neck. Aw, you know how pets eventually look like their owners? Cute.
  • Shout out to Paige's friend (perhaps Amanda? Olivia? Can't keep the preppy brunettes straight anymore) who actually wears a helmet riding.
• Next day, we open with a bit of this song (not sourced, copyright infringement number four, possibly more that at this point I no longer notice tbh). Paige puts on boots to go to the new shed and realizes the vlog is going to be so long because she's never done a whole week at a time before. Because I've made it this far, I'm the best. (Aw.)
  • Paige calls Tommy to wish him happy birthday and films it, which seems... odd. Especially since she doesn't film it in a way where he can see she's filming.
  • Paige gets tea for breakfast (nutritious) and a coffee for the guy at the barn we must have seen earlier. His name is Aaron. I could do some google sleuthing and find him probably, but I don't care. Paige met him going on trail rides at her old barn. Do middle aged men usually hang out at barns doing trail rides? Just scoping out young idiots with disposable income? The whole thing seems sus. Apparently he has like seven kids.
  • Paige never realized how expensive pre-made sheds were, but it's a local business that makes it by hand! I assume the local business is called Costco And Sons.
  • More uncredited The Shins plays as Paige only loads the shed with blankets and nothing heavy or unpicturesque.
  • Another Tractor Supply run, at this point they're who really should be sponsoring Paige
  • Paige goes to say goodbye to Louie and he HIDES FROM HER IN THE WOODS
    • Girl.
    • Oh my god no wonder he's mad at her, they've been staying somewhere WITHOUT A STRUCTURE. He's been sleeping OUTSIDE. It got into the 40's every night in New England last week!!!
• Out of focus Paige talking about how she had suuuuuch a long day "running errands". Olivia didn't get to join Paige on her little horse girl excursions because she had to be at the warehouse and onboarding a new DB employee. Anyway Paloma is in town now
  • Paige learns that apparently you're supposed to be washing veggies as she prepares things to grill. PAIGE HAS BEEN COOKING THIS WHOLE TIME NOT WASHING VEGGIES. I.......... I am going to need to be sedated after this.
• Paige exfoliates and puts on a definitely not sponsored face mask
  • She's wearing skiing pajamas. In case we forgot she was a skier. Did you know she was a skier????
    • PSYCH, these are from previous ads with PJ Place but actually she really likes these and this one ISN'T an ad she just loves the product so much
• Paige is doing her makeup! We're at the end stretch! I'm almost there!
  • She took a day off of vlogging to go see her grandparents, but immediately segues into her Ulta trip. Because of her stupid grandparents, she didn't get to go to the barn, frankly how can she survive in these conditions.
  • Dairy Boy phone case plug! She was soooo specific about what she likes in phone cases and definitely didn't just choose between Zazzle, Redbubble, or (insert other brand here)
    • It's a shitty thin cover that looks like it protects your phone from approximately nothing and should cost $10 but I estimate she'll sell it for at least $40
    • Of course because Paige was so super particular about the details and business-minded when it comes to quality it took a long time to make........phone cases.......
  • Tommy calls and says hi
  • Paige rambles about her day and makes coffee. Tommy sent her peonies because he's "so cute". We see the phone cases and they're weird and ugly. More "gifting" (undisclosed advertising) that came in the mail
• Paige makes pickled red onions, every time she does it she changes the recipe a little bit even though she totally has a recipe and isn't googling. She starts pickling carrots which she says are going to "go bad soon" (that takes like six months, how do carrots even go bad?) She also does it in a water glass which, good luck ever drinking from that again without it tasting like vinegar.
• And then with no warning, it cuts off. That took me three and a half hours. It's been a journey and I hate it. If there is ever a vlog this long, I'm doing it in segments across multiple days because I'm exhausted by this much wealth and inanity. Time to go touch grass, start dinner, wash my vegetables before I do so. You know. The little things.

The original post wasn't solved, please tell me if reposting isn't allowed.
I found it from YouTube recommendations on other city pop playlists. It was a collection of city pop songs, most of them were in English. The video was around 40 minutes long. The background was a picture of either pink or orange sky, there might've been palm trees in the distance. The title was something like "city pop songs from the 70s", some of the songs that were in the video were called "I wanna be somebody else", "The Chase" (I remember that the listed singer name was Patricia, I don't remember the last name) and "Tokyo". I found a similar video from the recommended videos, it had mostly the same songs but also some different ones. I don't remember whether it was on the same channel as the first video. I can't find either of these videos.

Ok some background. My spouse and I live in a skoolie. Our cat recently broke our TV and we are looking to replace it. I want to get a projector, but my spouse worries that we won't be able to see it during the day. Our windows have perforated vinyl and let through about a third of the light. It is nice solar lighting during the day.
I want a battery powered projector because everything in our bus is very portable including our bed. I the few things we have to be as versatile as possible so anything that stores it's own energy is always a big plus. I've read that to see a projector clearly even in daylight you need like 4000 lumens, but the battery powered projectors I have seen don't really go above 1000.
Inside the bus I don't expect us to project it to more that 55" outside though would likely be larger. What do you all recommend or should we just go with a TV?

I adopted two kittens out to someone at the end of last year. I am not affiliated with rescue, the kittens were born on a relative of mine’s property so I agreed to find homes for them. About a month ago, I texted the adopter to check in on the kittens and she told me that one of them had escaped while a new bathtub was being installed at her house. She said that she was still seeing him every couple of days and feeding him.
She agreed to let my dad come over to her house and set up a trap, but when he went over to set it up, she told him a completely different story about how he got out. She said that she had been letting him and the other kitten outside, and that one day he came back with his collar ripped off, a gash on his neck, and refused to let her touch him or come inside. She has (supposedly) been setting the trap every day for the last month but has not been able to trap him, as several feral cats are apparently going into the trap instead. She has become less responsive over the last two weeks than she was before, and has resisted me coming over when she has had issues with the trap. I really have no idea what is going on at this point, I don’t know how he got out, I don’t know if she is still setting the trap, I don’t even know if she is still seeing him. I am also concerned that these feral cats will run the kittens off if they keep going outside, as she mentioned that one of them bullies the kittens. She had originally told me that she would keep them inside when she adopted them.
If we are able to catch the kitten, do you think I would be able to take them back according to this contract? My idea is to offer to take them to the vet to get the kitten who was injured looked at, and get both of them chipped (I was unable to afford to get all of the kittens chipped before adopting them out). Then, I would just refuse to give them back to her. I am hoping that the vet will say that they are not in good condition and so according to part 5 of the contract I would be able to take them back. I think it is likely that they will have fleas and worms from being outside. If there isn’t anything wrong with them, would I have any options from there? I am also willing to pay her up to $1000 to get them back if that would be helpful.
(And yes I did vet her before adopting them out. I ran a background check on her, I did an interview, did a home check, and charged an adoption fee. I got the kittens fixed and got them their shots. I never would have guessed that something like this would have happened with her.)
This is the wording of the contract:
The prospective caregiver agrees: 1. Cats are to live in a private residence as companion animals. 2. To provide the cat with sufficient quantities of nutritious food and fresh water each day. 3. Never to strike or otherwise harm the cat. 4. Never to have the cat declawed. 5. To ensure that the cat’s vaccinations for rabies and distemper are current and to provide veterinary care annually, and upon sickness, disease, or injury. 6. If the cat must be relinquished for any reason by the prospective caregiver, s/he MUST NOT turn the cat over to a humane society, shelter, or person, but must return the cat to the Adoptee. If the phone number and/or address for the original caregiver is no longer operative, the caregiver will make a good faith effort to locate and contact the original caregiver. 7. I understand that failure to perform the foregoing agreement will constitute a breach of contract. In the event of any such breach of contract, I authorize the original caregiver to reclaim possession of the adopted cat.
Any suggestions you can give me regarding this situation would be very appreciated.

Hello, what are some reputable talent agencies in Las Vegas for principal, background and modeling work? I may be moving there in the near future and want to explore options. I’m currently represented in Washington.
TIA

Elvis isn’t dead, he just went home.
Exploratory scout DSX862-QQ1 was cruising along at approximately 80% of lightspeed on an outer spiral arm of the galaxy it was native to. Its mission, issued by the Greater Council Exploratory Committee, was to seek out new life, new civilizations, points of scientific interest, and potential future colonies.
80% of the speed of light was a tremendous pace, even for a craft built by a galactic community as ancient as the Greater Council, but its particle shield was more than up to the task, and it allowed the scout to scoop interstellar dust and hydrogen to refuel itself, slowly charging its drives for the next pinch-jump. Each jump would catapult the little craft a hundred light years forwards, followed by another sub-light cruise to analyse, recharge and listen. It wasn’t expected to find much out here. Life had evolved in the warm, bright galactic core, entire civilizations meeting within decades of reaching orbit of their respective home worlds. Resources were plentiful, many of them had been talking for centuries before meeting face to face, with only years of communications lag, instead of the decades or centuries between the species evolving further out, in the colder reaches.
Out here, on the arm, everything was cold. Even the search for possible colony sites and resources was more a formality, record keeping for the sake of the endless bureaucracy that infested the Council.
So, it had come as a tremendous surprise to the scouts simple intelligence when it picked up the ghostly whisper of a deliberate radio signal.
Pulses, blips, zaps, hisses, all were the normal background noise of the cosmos, but this was a firm BUZZ. Soon followed by strings and knots of beeps. The scout rotates, following its radio antenna ‘nose’ to lock in a direction towards the noise. It spooled up its pinch-drive, and jumps, a few lightyears, not enough to drain its energies, but just enough to allow it to triangulate. Then jump again, to get a third point. A fourth, a fifth.
A yellow star, a few billion years old, spectral and gravitational indications speaking of gas giants, rocky and icy bodies, and a potential habitable zone with a world skimming just along the outer edge of the habitable zone. The source of the signals.
The scout spooled its pinch-drive once more, preparing to make the thirty something lightyear jump to close with the noisy world.
It also began the process of waking up its Commander.
++++++++
Kevin Karl and the Karlsons wound down their last song of the evening, sweating under the stage lights and bathed in the adoration of the crowd. This was IT, the high they had all dreamed of, had chased through bars, opening acts, and finally, after just a few years, headline act of a whole show!
They’d bopped along to the other acts on that night, friends all, they’d been on tour together for weeks across the entire USA and would be playing two more shows before wrapping up for the year.
Off-stage, past the cheering, singing, breathless fans of rock and roll, brought together by the joy of the new genre that seemed to defy boundaries and break the locks of society. When they played, no-one saw the colour of their skin, Joeys scars, Mikes club foot. The band couldn’t make out individuals in the crowd. They saw humanity, united and beautiful, wrapped in the music they played.
One of the opening acts were gathered back stage, still bouncing, and their singer passed over a reefer cigarette. Kevin took a drag, feeling the smoke sooth his nerves as he passed it on, then he choked and laughed. “That was some show, could you feel them?”
The other singer, Jack ‘Wabbit’ let out a howl, “Hell yeah baby, felt like lightning, smooth lightning all through… wait, that gives me an idea for a song!”
He was off, crouching awkwardly as he pulled a pencil and notebook from somewhere and started scribbling.
Kevin chuckled, took a beer from Joey, and started walking towards the car. While far from brand new, it was big enough to take the band in relative comfort, while the instruments and gear followed in trucks. He climbed in back, sprawling across the bench, and closed his eyes. It was a thousand miles to the next venue, they were already running late to start getting organised, but he needed just a moment.
He was woken by a nudge. “Hey, Kev, you want a ride down to Jacksonville? Wabbit says his cousin has a plane, can take you both to Florida, rest of us will come down with the trucks, faster then the Catalina can get us there.”
Kevin blinked, groggy, but hanging on to getting to the next stop in comfort.
“Damn, yeah, I’m in! No way I’m passing up a planeride in comfort!”
++++++
The commander of DSX862-QQ1 listened to the sounds of the boisterous world her small ship had discovered. To say it was barely habitable was an understatement. Plenty worlds had higher gravity, but not the weather extremes this one had. Others had far worse weather but lacked the deadly pathogens that were detectable in the outer reaches of the atmosphere. Others still had some version or variation of every horrific threat this single world had, but never so many of them wrapped into one pristine appearing blue and green ball of life that seemed determined to survive by any means necessary.
She was impressed that life had evolved to multicellular levels at all, never mind to the point where it had achieved radio broadcast, powered flight and, if the latest scans were accurate, atomic power, weaponry, and the rudiments of space flight under development.
This world was only a few centuries from needing a first contact delegation, she could sense it.
If they survived. She’d seen plenty of far more peaceful civilisations wipe themselves out before achieving their full potential after all, and the light-delayed data her ship had gathered on the way in indicated that the primary species of this world **really** liked to fight one another.
Well, it wasn’t as if the Greater Council was perfect. A few hundred worlds, usually half at odds with the other half, or outright warring with the non-aligned groups surrounding them. Over what, she could hardly imagine, resources weren’t scarce, habitable worlds almost common, matters of religion seemed pointless to her.
Rather than be caught up in the endless squabbling, she’d worked to be assigned a scout ship, and only went ‘home’ when the databanks were full or the hull degraded.
She flipped idly through the signals her ship was pulling in. Mostly simple vocal signals, some barely encrypted, likely military, the rest completely in the clear. For a while there had been a simple video signal modulated as well, the computers now busy going through it to compile a useable language interface.
Her digit stopped, as one transmission caught her attention. There was a voice there, the words as yet unintelligible, but it was laced through, interwoven with, strung around a **sound**.
It wasn’t the first she’d heard of music from this world, nor even the first she’d heard following this particular set of musical rules, but there was something about **this** voice… It reached inside her, and she felt her soul reach out to embrace it.
It was memetic, the warning symbol now flashing on her display confirming what she already knew, but memetics were weapons, hazards, dangers to be filtered and avoided, while this?
It spoke of pain, it sang of loss, and heartbreak and joy and unity and togetherness. It sent her thoughts on strange tangents where her actions saved worlds, brought together warning species, enabled peace…
She shook off the effects as the music faded out and a smooth voice mumbled something, before the next song started. That too, touched her, yet lacked the sheer power of the first, and she was able to shut off the recording with a shaky digit.
She fumbled the ships controls, aligning with the source of the original transmission. A rickety looking steel tower with several high-powered emitters inside a small building next to it. Clearly not the source of the music itself, merely a civilian broadcast station, the music an entertainment medium.
She turned her attention then, to discovering what, or who, had created such a wonder.
++++++
Kevin stared at the airplane. It looked fresh, but old.
“War surplus, picked her up for a song when she was gonna be dumped out in a desert!” Wabbits cousin was a skinny boy, barely out of his teens, but with the quick and sure motions of an expert when he touched his beloved machine. “I heard you guys playing last night, gotta say, it changed my mind about black folks. Always thought to myself, to each their own right? And the laws are that way too, it made sense, but man, the way you sang, how the band played, I wanted to meet you, to say, you got me to see more. Like how the world looks from way up high, we’re all just one piece of something, right? And I think the world might be less ugly that way. So, I said to my cousin, man, I want to help out, my folks left me a pile of cash, I have my baby here, and if you want, I’ll take you where you gotta go.”
He stopped, looking at the ground, and although Kevin was tempted to accept the offer on the spot, but the kid was offering to sideline everything to ferry around his ass?
“Well, damn, listen man, thanks, and I’m grateful you’re giving us a ride to Jacksonville, but lets take it easy right? See how you feel after the flight and if you want to come to the show, sure, I’ll get you in. I can’t pay for regular flights though, I’m already paying for my car! Besides, as much as I need to get down there and make sure everythings golden, I can’t go leaving my band behind every time!”
“Oh, right, no it’s cool, if they want a ride too its all good. I want to make a change, and helping you out helps me do that, right? If you want to talk money, heck, I could bankroll a few shows, take a percentage in return, but its not about the money. Man you changed me, in a good way. I think you could do the same for people like me! You, uh. I stopped hating, you know? Feels good.”
Kevin started to wonder if he shouldn’t have just curled back up on his car bench and stayed asleep. “Okay, I’m on board, if you want to take the rest of my guys too, that’s great, we all get to our next stop on time, you get a show, and if you still want to help us out, we can look at more shows after the tour. Sound fair?”
They shook hands. Pete, as he turned out to be named, started fussing with his airplane again, and removing what he termed ‘junk’ from the hold and other parts of the craft, which to Kevins untrained eye all looked vaguely important, but were ‘heavy’.
He boarded with his band, and Wabbit, who had his own guitar with him, and as the airplane started taxying, amidst the reefer smoke, and snippets of song Wabbit was working on, they settled down for the flight.
++++++
DSX862-QQ1’s commander was hampered in her efforts to locate the origin of the music she had heard by the lack of any real information link between radio and physical locations. There was undoubtably ground-based cable she couldn’t tap, but there was no evidence of a wide area data network, and given the technology of the ‘Humans’ she wasn’t surprised.
Just frustrated.
Nonetheless, she was able to identify the singer, and his ‘band’ who played the instruments that had so perfectly twinned with his voice. She wondered how a purely non-verbal species would have received his music. Would they have felt what she felt just through the radio signal? Something she would learn, in time. Her plan was simple, she’d locate her subject, and deploy a drone to follow him. Wherever he played, her drone would invisibly follow, recording his music in perfect fidelity.
She’d return home, and share his music. Something no-one had heard before, had never experienced, and perhaps, it would make them see, and feel, what she had when hearing it.
The ship pinged, it had located a small heavier than air craft that had a high probability of carrying her quarry. It was moving at less than a third of the local speed of sound, but was being strangely buffeted. The computer flashed warning symbols on sections of the craft. Simple, but not primitive, the craft was perfectly designed for the task it was meant to perform, very good engineering had gone into creating it.
Yet it was failing, structurally, air pressures flowing over it far in excess for which it had been designed, one of this worlds unique weather phenomenon threatening to rip it apart.
Amidst the horror of realizing she was about to witness the death of those individuals who had touched her very soul, she recognized the craft was operating in excess of two hundred percent its designed stress ratings.
It was a toughness that bought a few seconds of thought. Of decision, and rash, perhaps illegal, action.
Digits brushed controls, summoning a hum from the depths of her ship. The fuel capture system was not meant for rescue, in fact, using for anything other than non-living mass was considered a breach of several laws. First and foremost, it was a very focusable disintegration array, making it a terrifying weapon. Secondly, it could collect the energy released by the disintegration and funnel it into storage cells to fuel the engines.
Thirdly, and this was the illegal part, her scoutships sensors could record exactly how the disintegrated matter had been arranged, down to the subatomic level, and the array could be reprogrammed to then reverse the process to convert the captured energy back into the original thing.
Used on an interesting rock, this was fine. On a living being it was murder at best and non-consensual cloning at worst.
Her digit pressed down firmly on the energize symbol that appeared below her hacked override code.
++++++
The aircraft finally surrendered to the windsheer pulling at it, fragmenting in a shimmering cloud of metallic fragments that erupt in a fireball as unspent aviation fuel is ignited.
Of the passengers and pilot, no trace was ever found, their deaths mourned by millions, in part for the loss of young people who had given the world such wonderful music, but also the sense of loss at the music they would now never be able to play. A pilot who had changed his beliefs and committed himself to promoting the ones who changed him for the better, a brilliant young singer and songwriter, and a band who could touch souls, lost forever.
The great changes they had been about to unleash would not take place. Or at least, not take place as quickly. The seeds had been planted, as other young people took up their instruments, raised their voices in song, and set out to change hearts and minds their own way.
Over the course of the centuries before Humanity could reach the stars as a single family, a steady stream of visitors dropped by the musical ball of rock. To observe, to listen, to rescue, when the opportunity arose.

Hi,
I would be glad if a specialized person could give me some orientation on a questionning I have about my friend.
My friend is very talkative but I do not recognize her in the définition of logorrhea. She talks a lot, too much maybe, but it is quite always coherent. She has a huge capacity to memorize information, and remember scenes of life, stories, complexe names of things (especially about her speciality which used to be environment and organic gardening), remember people, anecdotes, etc. This, doubled with a good capacity to link stories between another (a friend of her described it to her as she clings to branches of the tree...) bounce on any occasion to start narratives. She's actually quite educated and open, as well as funny, cheerful and expressive, so it's often interesting and pleasant to listen to her, but also, sometimes, on another side, she does not always pay enough attention to exchanges ( a bit like someone who has had too much to drink) and also tells in details more or less recent things that happened to her but are too anecdotal and in too much detail (here on the contrary, rather like someone too sober trying to remember things by saying them out loud). She's 42 and had a turbulent youth (smoking weed with a joint rejection of societies' rules, dating strange guys, etc.) But as a little girl (I know her from then), she had been raised by a single mom, very demanding and a strict-strict catholic (cheerful but mad!). Ok.. I dont want to be too long as well, it's not about me, lol. But.. searching the web I was looking to see of what this possibly was a symptom of. Because of her catholic background and her environment (rural France), she's not so much psycho-analysis literate. And because of her conspiratorial tendency to wallow in her rejections, she's not open to psychology even. Now, because her voice is nice, she reoriented carrer and she's a singer and gives concerts mostly in retirement houses (she wakes them up! Haha) and in touristic places of her region. And she's a single mom. She's a person only concerned about others, very generous. And I don't understand how she does not adjust to the norm.Can it possibly be something unhealed from childhood ? ADHD? Another personality trouble? Some catholic missionary syndrom ? (she likes to instruct people who are ignorant) What should I tell her without hurting her ? (I dont want to hurt her, she's so nice). Because few people really have time to discuss so much, this is socially handicapping. Thanks a lot in advance for any hints.

How long should it take my boyfriend to propose?
Hello.
I’ve been with my boyfriend 7 years. We’ve been together since we were 17 and are now 24.
We currently have a cat together, share a car, an have been living together for 3 - 4 years officially (before that when I was 18 I had my own apartment he stayed at all the time).
We’ve made plans for the future and are currently on waiting lists for a bigger apartment and want to start a family in about 2 years time.
I don’t know wether these things are relevant, but I’ll mention them nonetheless.
I am from a broken home with an abusive and alcoholic father and have had a lot of issues with depression, anxiety, ocd and stress. All that have been cleared up for years, but of course is still relevant to the person I am today. I’m not a family person and I love my friendships more than most my blood relatives. Bf, mom and brother is my family and the only ones I truly care about.
My bf is from the opposite background. Big family of mom, father, brother, sister, dog, cat all grandparents and cousins etc. Just a big happy family where I can often be the odd one out.
Right now, we’re in a smaller apartment and often have money troubles as we’re both students.
But we are scraping by with me making a bit more money and my mother helping at times.
I’ve talked to him about getting engaged and how much it would mean to me. We’ve even looked at rings. He has these ideas that a ring must cost a certain amount and you can’t be angered for more than a year. Yet all the rings we’ve looked at I’ve always liked the least expensive ones (even when I haven’t seen the prices). Also, I don’t care if we’re engaged a couple months or 2 or 3 years. I just want him to show me that he is invested in me and loves me enough to spend his life with me. He’s told me a million times that that’s what he wants.
I know we’re young and that there no rush but I want the commitment.
So how much longer should it take?

Alien-Nation Chapter 168: Now or Never

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Chapter summary: Elias wanders the grounds inspecting everything he can, has a fatheson moment with Larry then sends Vaughn to go try and spring people from jail.
It had been easy for me to see during the speech I'd given roughly how many had already arrived up the narrow pass, and as I stood from inspecting a firing port in a trench, testing whether the old cast iron cannon would roll back far enough on its rails after firing.
I gave it a pass after measuring against a rod. Certainly it was far from the highest of technologies at our disposal, but certainly it would be either lethal, injurious, or at the very least, extremely loud. The gathered mishmashed array of weaponry pointing outward was impressive enough, but the real piece de resistance was the sheer number of railguns we'd had returned to us, frequently carried by a two man team. I signed off on it for final inspection, noting the plug in place over the end, and went to the railgun positioned further down the trench near the intersection.
This was one I recognized. This shared at least something in common to the cannon, insofar as it was far from the latest model at our disposal. I spotted some of my own extremely crude handiwork, a far more rough set of welds performed along the plate's protective, unsanded metal edges. Mister Singer, if he were ever presented with it, may have recognized the shoddy, unstable hand that welded together some of the protective casing. The service flap told me the model without needing to even open it, the household door frame hinges pulled from Verns' stock of spare parts bin, before we implemented something even so basic as refined latches with catch points.
That had to make this a Mk. II. Sentimentality had no place on the front lines. I sucked in a breath at the sight of another old muzzle-loader being carried into the workshop for upgrades, already laid out on the timber worktable and ready for use and sucked in a breath.
I just hoped the earliest design of managing power flow wouldn't give out from the faster firing. Complex but beautifully arrayed piping had given way to simpler, more streamlined designs as we incorporated a greater number of readily available alien parts. Some of which we were supplied an initial batch of in the bag with the blueprints, and then we were told how to work free those same parts from various broken pieces of technology we'd reclaimed off the Shil'vati, or even the freely given away omni-pads. With every iteration we demonstrated a degree of adaptation to using the parts we had available, and each generation marked a leap forward in our own understanding of Shil'vati technology, courtesy of G-Man and his father's handiwork.
The final barrels of the extremely limited run of the second batch we'd paid handsomely for were marked 'present,' too. They had gone the least far afield, with one already slagging itself during the attack on the data center. I frowned at the spreadsheet, as if my impression of it might cause their fate to improve.
The latest blueprints could maintain a decent rate of fire without burning out its power management system located in the welded together case. Or, rather, the barrel gave out first. For the first time, perhaps as a result of being coupled with the magazines and a relatively rapid-fire exchange meant the neosteel barrels we received had finally become the weak point in the design.
It was only after we'd returned to Camp Death that I'd noticed the difference.
The new batch we'd paid dearly for seemed somewhat altered from the first batch we'd been building all the others out of, made from an alloyed material that shone somewhat dimmer under the sun as George and I worked in the shed elbow-to-elbow, though the contrast was not immediately obvious until one held the two against each other. It was slightly thicker, too, all of which to me indicated a change in supply in some manner, but our supplier had hardly announced themselves to Sam.
This was a troubling puzzle to me. I still couldn't be sure it was the new microbatch of barrels alloys being far from equal to the originals we'd finally finished building out? Or was it the expanded magazines and power couplings' ability to fire faster creating an overall volume of fire that overheated the barrel from overuse? Or was the power management design faulty, generating more heat per shot? Were we misusing them?
I measured the barrel of the Mk. II, just to be sure the shelf life of the barrel hadn't come due. So far, inspections of the original batch of barrels had mercifully indicated they'd all been brought back here were in comparatively great shape, with this one being no exception. That lent me some comfort that these new barrels were just not up to the task of heavy, sustained fire. I couldn't know that for certain, and an unreliable weapon was cause for anxiety.
Indeed, there was almost no wear on this version at all, disproving the worst case scenario that these were only good for a certain number of rounds before they'd be worn down to uselessness. Certainly, they'd eventually give out, but it seemed we were still far off from that point.
"Sir?" Asked the gunner, staring at me.
I stared at him, then down at the spreadsheet. "This thing fires three rounds a minute. Do you think that rate of fire is sufficient?"
I could tell he wasn't sure whether a 'no' would have him replaced with someone professing to be more accurate.
"Get it upgraded." I took the white gel pen and scribbled on it- make ready for an upgrade as soon as the final repaired railgun clears the shed. Assigned to casemate #4, Operator... "Call sign?"
"Brut," he answered.
"Brut...with the Umlaut?" He gave a thumbs up and I added them. Costing nothing but a drop of gel ink for a little personalization if it made for a happy gunner was a good investment. "Use it well. Get it upgraded if there's time, keep an eye on the work shed. Once the repairs stop, you can take this to the front of the line, Brüt."
There was no point dismantling all our old ones and creating a backlog while some still needed repairs. I wrote on the hatch Upgrade from Mk. II to Mk. IV. That would give it a magazine and more than triple its firing rate. Anything more than that, I quietly held my doubts for the feasibility of upgrading in a timely manner. The Mark V's took too much time and effort to build their complex power management systems for not enough gain, stuffed too tightly into the protective case to be completed quickly. The Mark VI's tended to overheat their crude fire control circuitry, the consequence of an overcorrection back to simplicity; they could maintain a high fire rate, but were too delicate. The VII's were the ones with the new barrel. Promising, but those barrel faults...I still worried it might have been the power management system.
We'd started considering adding water tanks to help maintain them, but it brought the weight higher than that of a Mk. I, and successfully swapping a boiling hot tank off a delicate, electronically-loaded railgun in combat seemed like a very questionable use of the time. We'd just have to ask the crews manning the railguns to be a bit judicious in our fire, and hope that the flaw was limited to the new little batch of barrels.
How many rounds, exactly, and exactly how fast was yet to be determined; we hadn't conducted the amount of testing a proper military might carry out, but while we had no shortage to man, we also did not have so many as to test dozens until their point of failure, weighing and comparing all their possible conditions.
All this uncertainty kept bouncing around my head. How many troops did we have here? How many rounds for every type of rifle, including the more exotic variants? How reliant on them were we to deal damage, and was it all stored somewhat safely? On the less direct side of things, how many tons of food did we have stored, and was it distributed well? How many thousands of gallons of water could we draw? How many pounds of soap to wash utensils, cups, wounds, and shower with? How many pounds of food over how many men, to last how many days? If it rained, some of these might be alleviated, and yet might kick off a whole host of other issues. There was no way of knowing, no way of taking a perfect stock. But I could estimate.
We had a lot of people. And a lot of guns. And a lot of defenses, and literally countless tons of high explosives, triggered by various means and methods. And we were mad as hell. While exactly how mad was less concrete a figure, I knew this many men away from home could end poorly.
Ultimately, whether it was the fault of the new barrel or the design had finally reached the limitations of its potential rate of fire without causing other issues, I couldn't say for certain. So I had to do my best.
I gave the railgun a clean bill of health to operate if needed, 'priority upgrade,' and noted the rate of fire for the defensive position at 'three a minute.' This one being one of our oldest models, I left it to the operator with my blessings, and made a mental note to add the next railgun we had to be stationed nearby, just so that we weren't under strength from that angle.
I craned my neck from the trench to behold even more insurgents trickling into the old clearing. The arrivals always came in ones-and-twos, their body language telling me the story of the journey it had taken to get here. They'd had to have abandoned their vehicles to the traffic-snarled roads almost certainly some miles away unless they knew the path George and I would occasionally take;.
Those who brought their own heavy weapons lay them down at their feet before collapsing. Water and food was distributed, though I couldn't speak to the quality, and a trash run would have to be made, tossing the empty tins into ammunition containers.
Of all the newcomers who had yet to be organized into place, I counted two mortars, several more volunteers grouping up to retrieve ammo after taking down descriptions of the vehicles from their exhausted owners and sprinting back out into the night to fetch whatever had been left behind.
The resourcefulness lifted my spirits. No one entertained the notion that these men were taking their leave to flee a certain doom. All present felt some degree of faith, understood who they were, why they were here, and what we were setting out to accomplish. Cells worked to find one another in the darkness, congealing themselves into a more coherent, practiced fighting force by virtue of familiarity with one another. Discipline was sharp and needed little enforcement past an initial reminder. No flashlights switched on inside the premises or campfires were lit despite the encroaching edges of the cold front. Insurgents were guided to whatever defensive positions, pillboxes, trenches, battlements, or bunkers still sat empty, depending somewhat on their expected role after detailing their skills to sentries or those otherwise familiar with the camp carefully explaining sight lines and our overall defensive strategy.
Whispered word overheard from those arrivals seemed to indicate a mixture of panic and outrage was fast spreading through the state's populace, carrying them on frightened wings as they took flight in the night, from here to the southernmost beaches and bays. It seemed word had gotten out successfully, then. That knocked down one more obstacle to our success, or at least set the pieces in place. Soon, all that would remain would be the ugly business of following through, and hoping, no praying that I hadn't massively miscalculated in my hubris.
I took the ramp out of the trench so they could pour some loose gravel into it, helping ensure that if those threatening looking storm clouds opened and if the drains clogged, we still would have some footing, and retired to the command cabin, eyeing how empty it felt with all the finished products being set into defensive arrangements; only the workshop still retained all its rather explosive concoctions.
The manpower situation was such that those familiar in reliably manufacturing complex bombs were spending their time setting up defenses in the fields beyond and settling in our new arrivals.
And then I had the couple hostages, weakened by months of captivity, restrained and kept under guard, but still sitting right on top of the half-done armaments.
I told myself that we had taken precautions- the most reactive sets separated by a thin membranous bag of water to prevent chain reactions from taking root and a few emergency containment systems, but they relied on someone present. I'd need all hands on deck- and what if a direct lance of energy landed from some heavy weapon hit the shed, perhaps to try and make a point? No mere bag of water would make a difference then.
Then again, if they brought that king of weaponry to bear, then the outcome would be certain. The Shil'vati would still lose their hostages, and have tacitly admitted I'd forced their hand, and that they'd declared we were enough of a threat to sacrifice noblewomen just to put a stop to.
I hunched over a smaller map in the command cabin, pinning down the garrisons and jails Verns might be held in. Perhaps I'd been premature in my assessment in lacking a future need of a good map when I'd jumped atop the table for my little motivational speech. I'd gotten caught up in the moment; I hadn't foreseen the need for an offensive element.
I was sorely missing my Lieutenants. Vendetta wasn't here, which was one of the greater anxieties weighing on my shoulders.
The one word I'd whispered in his ear all that time ago to bring him around to believing I did, in fact, have a plan: Victory. He should be here already.
He'd sprinted off across the field in glee back when I told him of this plan's possibility, that "Plan C" might come about due to a few cells going dark and my suspicion that it wasn't moles. The null hypothesis, that there were in fact moles, had put him in direct danger by sending him to double-check.
I cursed my blindness. My eagerness to take a night off, to get him out of the way so he wouldn't clash with the others, so I could be a 'normal boy' for a night and attend a party- one I wouldn't be kicked out of, To find social acceptance.
All part of a 'coming of age,' even after I'd already spilt blood, led a war campaign effort, kissed, earned more money than most would see in a lifetime, and mentally cut ties with my family. By almost any account, I already was a man, yet I'd gotten obsessive in imitating the modern trappings of defining such things. I should have seen the cells reporting members' absences and even going dark as a whole for what it was. I could have called off Town Hall, started assembling even more people here.
Then again, if I had, then perhaps...the shil'vati might not have started grabbing everyone. I hated to think of Verns as 'sacrificial.' They likely didn't have much on him, just a neighbor's report. Then again, we'd had that meeting right after the bar fight at Lucky's, right? How thoroughly had George cleared out his house, if they went back to rummage around and investigate? How well could George cover his tracks? We'd left that ammo crate in the hallway, for starters- clumsy of us, yet we were in a panic. Like children. I tensed as I remembered so vividly the sudden sharp report of the gun, watched Patrick's empty eyes stare up. But not children.
There was nothing I could do for Vendetta. We'd sent the Bat Signal out. Either he'd be here, or he'd miss it.
I weighed the value of sending George away once he got here. The order would certainly annoy him after he'd just arrived, something of an arduous task given how far backed up the traffic had become. I also knew it meant I'd have one fewer lieutenant here, where I desperately needed him. I could hardly ask him to burn down the childhood home, and it would certainly reek of hiding evidence.
"Sir," A sentry stood in the door frame, and I stretched from where my muscles had tensed up, pulling my shoulders back and yawning silently beneath my mask, lumbering toward him.
I didn't realize how tall I'd gotten until I realized he was staring up at me and had taken a half-step backwards- not to make way so I could lead from the door, either, but almost defensively.
"Yes, what is it?" I asked, stopping in place.
"We've received a message for you, sir. Radio is reporting that a 'Hex' has checked in from her position. She and Binary report 'Green as Grass,' sir."
I wasn't used to being called 'sir,' and it caught me off guard. I realized he was standing there, waiting for a response from me of some sort, too.
What should I say for him to send back to Hex? I momentarily remembered the sensation of the kiss, the warm, slightly wet softness, the tenderness, and felt a bit of a blush under my mask. While every instinct screamed at me to not air even a hint of my romances or inner turmoil about a kiss over the unencrypted connection, there was a level of 'not talking about it' that I was unfamiliar with and hadn't planned for. Could my message back be coded into something subtle? Nothing came to mind.
"G-good," I finally stuttered a little awkwardly. "That's very good."
"What does it mean, sir?"
I pushed the distractions out of my head. This was no time to be thinking about girls- and my mind stubbornly disobeyed, wandering right back to Natalie. At first to the hug she'd offered me, when I was scared. Frightened of the mind-wiper device. That tenderness she'd offered- I pushed the memory from my mind, too. This wasn't the time to fantasize, either. I had to live in the world that was before me, here in the present. People were relying on me. I could figure out all that other stuff- girls, hope, my future- sometime later.
"It means the operation can proceed as planned."
If the Twins stopped reporting or got caught with the hostages, then we'd have a lot less leverage stopping Azraea from blowing us all sky high. A couple noblewomen- who I wasn't terribly familiar with and seemed to be somewhat less important, provided they were truthful to me of their station. This unfortunate pair had relied on connections to already-stationed family members to arrive, rather than on their raw political power to muscle their way to Earth's then-closely guarded secret coordinates, and were present only for evidence of said hostages' presence.
"Sir, beg your pardon," I could sense something bubbling under his words, against his better judgment, but some sense of desperation demanded he ask me this anyways. "But what is the operation? I've been manning the airwaves with Radio, helping spread word, but everyone I make contact with seems to want to know."
"I don't see the wisdom in broadcasting the finer details of our plan, I'm sure you understand."
I sensed the inner conflict by the way he froze up. He wanted to object, probably, to swear he wouldn't leak more than the minimum. The problem was, anyone listening for long might take a morsel here, a morsel there, and bring it all together and undo us.
"You have all you're meant to have at this point, frustrating though that must be to try and inform others of the going-ons. Our objective is right before us. When the time comes and the enemy appears, blast them." I didn't want to say there isn't much else to plan. At least, not for them to consider.
"And you, sir?"
"I'll be right here, alongside you," I promised. That seemed to ease some of his pressing curiosity, at least. "We'll be here together, to watch the birth of a miracle." That, or we'd die together. Those words didn't quite have the same catchy ring, though.
I looked over my shoulder back at the map. What more good could be wrought over pondering what jail he might be in, without more details?
"Another matter. Hex said G-Man should arrive in a few minutes."
"Thank you. Anything else to report?"
"No sir, the shortwave beckons." They gave a hand-on-heart and stepped out, leaving the doorframe empty.
I told myself I may as well follow. There was no good to come of disappearing into a tent, secluded for long periods, not when anxiety might run through the gathered troops. I had to make myself seen at least periodically. Besides, it was easier to get a more complete picture from out here than in there.
Radio looked like a one-man-band by the way he was surrounded by boxy electronics of varying sizes, their glows dimmed slightly by thin pieces of fabric taped over the tiny glowing screens, and the trap stretched over his head. Wires snaked their way along the ground, a trooper trying to lay the cable into a thin channel of dirt with a spade to reduce the tripping hazard.
Pierce crouched next to him with a laptop plugged into something wired together, the final outlet of which looked vaguely like an international travel inverter, her fingers flying across the trackpad.
"Radio, how are we?"
"We've made lots of contact, I think. So much traffic on the airwaves it's actually hard to find a clear channel to broadcast on."
"Do they have our encryption keys?" I asked, the question almost automatic.
"No, having one kind of defeats the purpose of being heard and getting the signal out. Besides, encrypting's probably easy for the Shil'vati to crack. Less easy for human intelligence agencies, but impossible for the people who we want to hear us."
I already knew most of this, but humoured him. Little entertained radio quite like his namesake.
"What's our chance of discovery, then? Rough time to them figuring out it's us here, and finding the signal's origin."
"At least with a somewhat uncountable number of HAM signals being thrown across the airwaves, we are a really big needle in a gigantic haystack. Besides, how many times have we actually been where we're broadcasting from?"
That was a point I hadn't considered.
The Shil'vati would likely regard our signal as just a relay point, rather than the source, let alone the destination.
Would they strike it just to silence the orders, once they figured out how many of them were originating from the same point?
I comforted myself by staring upstream of the creek that wandered to the south of Camp Death, following its course with my eyes to where it flowed under the concrete tunnels under the highway, under the train tracks, to where it ultimately ran back to where Radio and I had visited Saint Michael's. Then I turned my head back across the field, toward where the foundation of Mojo and Mister Pasta's had been, where Vaughn had called in the kill team on the Fed's sting operation,
We'd certainly set up plenty of remote broadcast towers before, to entice them into launching strikes on collaborationists. That Saint Michael's was still standing after we'd broadcast all kinds of propaganda from there meant they'd almost certainly learned to be a bit more cautious about lashing out blindly.
In the darkness I saw a familiar figure materialize, and with a bit of relief, I ran up to greet Larry. I wanted to give the old mechanic a hug, but knew that expressions of intimacy while standing near the middle of the camp's defensive perimeter in front of everyone was more than a bit inappropriate, and settled for a nod of acknowledgment.
"I cleaned up the mess at Jules place," he said, going back to referring to his friend by their code name, glancing at Pierce.
I felt a moment of shame. We'd panicked and grabbed everything. Perhaps we were like children after all, leaving our toys out and in the hall. "Thank you."
"Saw Patrick."
"Patrick saw," I said back. "Patrick- called."
Whatever Larry was about to say, that brought him up short. "Oh. Oh." The words seemed to leave him pained. He'd known Patrick, too, and I felt the weight of guilt. It seemed he moved on faster than I could, because he changed the topic quickly.
"What's up?" He gestured at the radio setup.
Pierce seemed to be quite engrossed in her work, trying to connect the laptop to a radio via a USB cable, fumbling with the port in the dark. The laptop's screen was showing a shaky handheld video of a mass arrest- and I thought I could hear my own voice echoing the words I'd spoken just a short while ago.
"Just uploading the speech. I've spliced it up to some footage that one of the newcomers brought. We'll also be exporting raw versions of both- just the audio, the video, make sure people have the record and can decide for themselves."
Sometimes the truth was the best propaganda.
"How are you getting video out? I thought the internet was down."
Radio held a hand up, and then put it down, as if I'd been a teacher asking a question and he'd been chasing extra credit. The next few sentences were practically a foreign language to me, uttering a series of numbers in rapid succession, followed by what sounded like a name. That may've been a model, an edition of a model, a make, a special form of broadcasting- all of it may well have been bounced off the ionosphere for how far it went over my head. I wasn't used to being so completely out of my depth, but everyone seems to have specialized in some skill or another. I'd preferred getting involved in all aspects of the revolution, but at a certain point delegation was a necessity, and I was watching not just the task's needs, but also the capabilities of my lieutenants grow well past my ability to offer useful insight and guidance.
"I...see." I didn't, but I wasn't sure what else to say. I wanted to express curiosity, but I felt like this new capability was something we'd discuss later, if there was a later. "And people can receive high definition video over shortwave? It just takes a long time?"
It seemed to me to be an apparently somewhat technical process to perform over shortwave, and only when finally pressed for details, Radio at last admitted something I did understand: "I am not sure most people know how to collect the signal, or have the right equipment to, but I'm sure someone will, Maybe that person will redistribute the videos."
There. Actionable, useful information.
"Then continue," I said. "At least unless anything more pressing jumps up to do."
"Let's hope it's good for more than the history books," Pierce commented mildly.
"The world has to know, and I am certain the shil'vati have no interest in putting such footage out there. That's reason enough for us, isn't it?" I watched Radio nod and then scurry about the camp, tracing one of the wires toward the antenna array nearest the highway. I turned to Larry, breaking off from the amusing spectacle. "Do you remember my promise?" My question was genuine, but he seemed to waver slightly, now that the possibility of actually delivering on it was here and present. Perhaps the aura of our inner circle's invincibility had been shattered with the loss of his neighbors, and it would be best to set his mind to something productive. "If you want it to come true, see to it that the mortar teams are trained. Get the cannons in position, and make sure we're good for more than just one wave."
Larry snapped a salute, fingers on brow, and I clumsily approximated one in return, though I had never done a salute before in my life. I could sense the slight smile from behind his mask, and with a quick check over his shoulder that no one was watching, he reached out, straightened my palm out slightly, then brought the edge of my palm higher until it was a bit more level. "That's better," he judged, then leaving me alone once I dropped the hand a few seconds later.
George showed up a few minutes earlier than Hex had predicted, out of breath and escorted by a sentry. "Ditched the truck," he wheezed. "The huge bags of claymores and equipment were really heavy. Had to haul it under the interstate." His shoes shone with creekwater; He'd almost certainly taken the path Larry had forbade us from trying, and I couldn't imagine doing it in the pitch black darkness at any speed.
I motioned to the sentry. "Help him get that bag into the workshop." He was the best bomb maker, but he also had helped build this place. I wanted to pick his brain, but I would give him time to rest, first.
"Hey, Radio. Radio!" I heard the shortwave radio he'd set at the top squawk to life with a familiar grumble on the other end, distorted somewhat by the tinny speaker. I scooped it up. Someone with a vocoder- Radio gave those out sparingly.
"'E' here," I answered for him, but didn't want to announce myself. Not right away.
A moment's pause.
"What are your orders?"
"Vendetta?" I wanted to confirm.
"I'm here with over fifty people waiting at Warehouse Base for something to do," I knew the transmission would likely be monitored, but the time for subtlety was over. "You're on speakerphone, by the way."
The line was likely tapped, or at least would be intercepted, its contents determining priority for being passed upward or presented to someone with authority, possibly even Azraea herself.
Whatever orders I gave, they'd have to be in code, or at least sound like something unimportant, low-priority so that we might give him as much opportunity to get the drop on the enemy as he could be afforded.
"Don't bother trying to come here yet," I quickly supplied. "By now, if you're not on your way here, you have your own party to go to." I took a moment to survey the grounds. "We've practically got a full house. See about getting a house party of your own, though you'll have to pull the guests out of their own company. Or something to flank."
"Any idea where to start?"
The map fresh in my mind, I found the answer sprang to me.
"There's a rest stop along Route One. If you've got any party poppers, you can get them to open up to you like a can opener. You know, it's all about introducing yourself well."
I heard him laugh mirthlessly, the sound coming through like a cheese grater run over the asphalt.
"That one's a big bite, maybe more than we can chew without choking. Why don't we start with something smaller?"
I wanted to protest, to direct him to the biggest ones first. Then again, how much did they have on Verns? How likely was he to be somewhere heavily defended?
"What do you have in mind?"
"Well, right across the river from where the naughty girls all get sent. Why don't we start there? Every party needs a few ladies, right?" I could hear a roar of assent from the background.
I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that- was he going to try and attack the Shil'vati base? Surely not those women? He wasn't that insane. Then it clicked- the Women's Correctional Facility in Wilmington, just upstream of the Christina River from where he was broadcasting from at the old Warehouse Base. Easy to get to, certainly, and right near the interstate with pedestrian bridges and neighborhoods to scatter in after the strike made it an excellent candidate. Almost certain to succeed.
The strike wouldn't yield us Verns, though forcing the Shil'vati to admit that they couldn't both take and hold their prisoners at the same time might force them to at least pause rounding up ever more people.
If I gave it my blessing, I would be sacrificing any chance of rescuing Verns for...for what? The tradeoff strained my soul to even consider.
"If you feel that's best, you know your crowd. That said, they got Jules- we want him back." He'd helped build Camp Death. He knew its ins and outs, though my real reasons were somewhat sentimental. "Keep an eye out for Morningstar and a few other cells. I've little doubt they can party with the best of them." They were one of my heaviest hitters, routinely bragging they could go clay pigeon hunting with an unguided RPG, yet I was pretty sure I'd never rallied them to Camp Death- if they were to rally, Warehouse Base was where they'd be.
There was a moment of silence, until Vaughn reported back- "Yeah, they're here. They were going to move up to you once they got everyone together. Should we leave instructions for where to find us, or to find you?"
"Do it- supplies are overall good here. Lots of...uh, balloons, confetti..." I felt like I was stretching the analogy too far, so I gave up trying to equate weaponry to party paraphranelia. "...you know, the works. Take Morningstar and use 'em as you see best fit. What've you got for your party? Any good party supplies?" We certainly could make a trash run and see if we could also deliver them some RPGs at the same time.
"Got some Bump-n-Grinds, and you know those are always good for an up-close-and-personal encounter."
I laughed. "From what I read about bumping and grinding? The closer, the better." Their accuracy left a fair bit to be desired. Still, it would be a good, even vital carry just in case those dreaded Security Forces Technicals made an appearance, and would probably be 'good enough' against a stationary target like a wall, especially in the hands of a capable squadron like Talonstar.
"What time are you thinking?"
"I'd say as soon as we're all ready. You really overestimated how many people know where Camp Death is. A fair number showed up here, and are still trickling in."
"Enough to throw several parties at once?" I asked, suddenly hopeful.
"Well, I suppose, maybe, but I'd be wary of partygoers without someone in charge to, uh..." the metaphor seemed to be breaking down, but I got what he was going for.
"Yeah, I see."
"Are you thinking if there are too many noise complaints at once, it'll keep the party going longer?"
"That's part of it, but I'm hoping we might find a particular person we're missing, lost him when we were playing unexpected host. Someone of G-Man's, you'd know him as Jules. A divide and conquer might maximize our odds of finding him."
"Plus, maximize the number of partygoers we pick up as we move. I like it. A few small house parties for every big house. Any special orders?"
"None. K.I.S.S. principle applies. Good, bad, I want it all out on the streets. 'KISS' 'em until they can't see straight." Keep It Simple, Stupid.
"You're certain?" I could hear the hesitancy in his voice. "This is going to be the greatest thing we've ever done, and I want to be by your side for it 'til the end. I don't want any last-minute cancellations, and I sure as hell don't wanna miss it. How long should I party?"
We'd be letting absolute chaos loose. Fire. Looting. The worst of humanity, turned loose, with Vaughn potentially at its head if he decided to recruit for some reason. Could I still claim to be the good guy if I turned those kinds of people free to wreak havoc on the state I claimed whose denizens I was protecting?
Blackstone's Ratio holds that it is better that ten guilty persons escape than that one innocent suffer. It would still hold me no less accountable for whatever followed from this mass prison break, though.
I looked over to the recently arrived George, and hung my head.
So be it.
"Confirmed, Vendetta. I'll next talk to you when you're here in person- call it when you start either getting tired or if the hosts hire a doorman, a bouncer, or something you can't handle. Bring any good partygoers and favors you find, guide them here, O Pied Piper. Over and out." The signal went quiet again, and I turned off our radio, standing and yawning. The hour was late, and it would be my last opportunity for some shuteye.
I pulled aside a few sentries to my first order. I felt it was a strange one, and likely futile: I asked everyone to 'try and get some rest.'
The sentries were going to be exhausted, and I needed them to start working in shifts if we were to maintain our vigil and perimeter. Doubtless, more would be coming, and giving them at least some rest might be a difference-maker. G-Man helped lead the newcomers to the subterranean bunkers and tunnels, trying to make sure everyone had a place to stay the night and resources got split, even if it was throwing tarps and blankets on hard-packed dirt. I eyed the tunnels, knowing which one of them would spit me out near the stream, itself running so low I might as well refer to it as a ravine. Digging that had been cramped, paranoia-inducing, but we'd dug out so much of the hill and filled it with enough weapons to wage a full-scale war. What had begun as almost make-work and a place to store things when we'd started out
I couldn't sleep well on the cot that night, tossing and turning- I even tried resting with the mask off, held in my hands, but the risk to my identity if anyone barged in caused me enough stress. Eventually, I stood and donned it, making my rounds around the camp, trying to calm myself. Instead, I felt eyes following me, and I had to force myself to stand tall. For the thousandth time, I thought of this as my Valley Forge.
The sentry at the door to the command cabin gave me a hand-on-heart, and I returned it.
As I patrolled, I could hear whispered prayers, muttered plans of action, and mercifully, snores. At least some were getting some sleep. I could see orange lights reflecting off the clouds, near where I knew Wilmington lay.
I almost jumped a foot in the air when I felt the tap on my shoulder, only to find G-Man's mask staring into mine. How strange that such a haunting visage was a comfort to me.
"Hey. Can't sleep?"
"I can't," I confessed. "G-Man, I'm sorry what happened with your father. Hell of a birthday." I hadn't even had a chance to give him the present I'd bought him- a couple new filters, and vintage craftsman toolkit, "from before they sold out," Verns had told me. The memory of his voice already felt distant somehow- no. I'll see him again.
"Wasn't your fault. Even if Town Hall wasn't your big idea to get them to retaliate, you know? Then they'd still have done something. But, uh, thanks for saying that. And thanks for trying to get dad out. I'll remember that." George said quietly, then the conversation ended when he turned away and went to the edge of the embankment. Just like that.
I could never quite get a read on him.
I went inside, and tried to force myself to get at least some shut-eye.
Thanks to Terran-Armored-Core and DeltaNu for helping with some decisions and spellcheck.
Thanks to Inmutabilis-Ratio for helping with the site, it was very helpful in importing the text.
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Alien-Nation Discord Buy A Coffee for the Author

First post! A little cat haiku to kick it off - "Cats are perfect beings / With their soft fur and sweet purr / Scratched furniture is a small price to pay"
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Mother's Day was specially stressful this year due to my mom's extreme reaction to my spending it with my mother-in-law. As a bit of background, I've (30f) lived abroad for over 10 years, and I'm an only child to an uBPD mom with whom I've been profoundly enmeshed despite the physical distance. My journey in realizing my mom's disorder after a lifetime of signs and starting to untangle this enmeshment is relatively new, and it's a constant process of grieving as I realize that my anxiety, self-doubt, and fear are rooted in my relationship with her.
My husband's family lives out of town, and a few months back my MIL booked a trip to visit us over Mother's Day weekend. I had mentioned the planned visit to my mom, and she initially didn't seem to react to it. But then, the moment my MIL and her partner arrive in town and I tell my mom, she starts to act extremely cold towards me over text message. Her mood literally switched from one day to the next - she didn't seem to want to speak with me. I spent the weekend trying to balance enjoying my MIL's company (I get along great with her) and getting rid of the guilt and upset I felt because of my mom. In trying to understand her feelings, I called her to have an open conversation but was (as is usually the case) greeted with cryptic messages and passive-aggressiveness as she guilt-tripped me. Things like:
"I'm so glad you get to have a nice time with your MIL on Mother's Day" (read in passive-aggressive tone)
"We're having [X] for lunch tomorrow, just simple food, nothing compared to what you have there"
"Well, I tried to be the best mom I could, with my being poor" (directly in response to my "Happy mother's day, mom!")
"I did not get a gift for your grandma, I already spend every day taking care of her by myself and that's gift enough" (blurted out of nowhere - I did not ask if she gotten a gift)
Of course, when the visit was over my mom went back to a "good" mood without ever acknowledging the way she had been treating me.
I have to conclude - based on this and previous experiences of the sort - that my mom is extremely jealous of my MIL, both because we are close and because my MIL is financially better off than my mom and can afford to visit us more often. In the process she also gets to guilt-trip me - bonus points!
I feel so badly about this - it's a mix of grieving, processing the contrast that is my relationship with my mom and my husband's relationship to his, and trying to break the BPD cycle in my own family life. I am also becoming terrified of having kids, as I can't fathom what my mom's dynamic with my MIL and with us abroad would be when grandkids are in the picture. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get to be happy without the guilt.

I am 18+ and all characters and participants must be 18+.
Hey I'm looking for someone who's able to play as a celeb in a long term relationship/dating rp where I get to date the celeb and have sex with them and everything or just get to hookup with them in a short normal rp and maybe make another one if you'd like too.
I've got some scenes in mind we can discuss them in private and if you dont like any of them thats fine you can bring yours or maybe we can make one up. I prefer to play on discord but won't say no if you want to do it here. Discord : AleX#9133
My favorite celebs and P stars are in a post in my profile but you can suggest another celebs I won't say no.
Kinks : blowjob , 69, doggy, riding, deepthroat, facial, facesitting, titty fuck, anal, handjob, thight job, milking tits, sucking tits , public sex ,hard-core, threesome, softcore , degrading, humiliation, standing 69 , wall sex , shower sex Limits : killing , blood stuff , pee , shit, gore , toilet ,hard-core bdsm , cheating , getting dommed.
These are my favorite celebs to play with : Kendall jenner, Kylie Jenner, Kim K , Chantel Jeffries, Corinna kopf, Ariana grande, Taylor alesia, Alissa violet, Carrington Durham, fatherkels, stassie baby, lyna perez, doja cat, ice spice and many more.
I'm hoping to hear from you soon don't be shy to hit me up at anytime!

Monday, May 22 - Sunday, May 28

Top Videos

score	comments	title & link
5,466	457 comments	[Video] Charles Barkley is better at promoting hockey than the entire NHL marketing department
3,324	612 comments	[Video] [FLA (4) - 3 CAR] Tkachuk scores a powerplay goal with 4.3 seconds left to win the game and send the Panthers to the Stanley Cup Final
2,237	159 comments	[Video] [FLA (4) - 3 CAR] Some electric celebrations following the game winner: Tkachuk slides on his knees & Bobrovsky sobs while drinking water
1,947	371 comments	[Video] Jesperi Kotkaniemi smashes his stick after going down 3-0 in the ECF.
1,865	281 comments	[Video] [DAL (3) - VGK 2] Joe Pavelski keeps the series alive with the OT winner
1,398	114 comments	[Video] A year ago today, Nathan MacKinnon went end to end to complete a hat trick against the Blues.
1,167	144 comments	[Video] Norway beats Canada at the World Championship for only the 2nd time ever
1,089	66 comments	[Video] Latvian commentators in the game for bronze against USA
900	117 comments	[Video] Paul Maurice mic’d up after game 4: “It’s a lifetime of work to get to this. There’s something so much more important and it’s actually not the trophy, it’s the time we’re going to spend together.”
898	58 comments	[Video] Latvian commentators in the LV-SWE game and their voices cracking more every goal
875	189 comments	[Video] Dallas fans throwing items on the ice after Max Domi cross-checked Hauge into the boards and received a 10 minute misconduct.
735	53 comments	[Video] [VGK 2 - DAL (4)] Ty Dellandrea scores again 1min 27sec after his first, as Hague pushes Domi into Hill
475	62 comments	[Video] Joe Pavelski did the exact same thing 15 years ago against Dallas. Scores in OT to win 3-2 and keep his team alive.
435	65 comments	[Video] Did this make anyone else uncomfortable?
418	48 comments	[Video] Rudolfs Balcers blows the roof off Arena Riga with an OT winner against Switzerland
418	26 comments	[Video] [DAL 1 - VGK 1] Jason Robertson deflects the puck on net, and bunts it twice in the air and in to tie things up
375	70 comments	[Video] Jamie Benn crosscheck on Ryan Jones back in 2013
315	98 comments	[Video] (Can - Cze) Refs don't blow the play dead for offside, a towel drops on the ice and Crouse scores an empty net goal
312	16 comments	[Video] Arena Riga goes crazy as Latvia makes history, toppling Sweden in the Quarterfinals
310	16 comments	[Video] [VGK 2 - DAL (3)] Dellandrea gives the Stars their first lead of the night
294	26 comments	[Video] [FLA (1) - CAR 0] Reinhart opens the scoring on the PP
288	102 comments	[Video] Jamie Benn boards OEL a few games after returning from back injury
269	7 comments	[Video] [DAL (2)-2 VGK] Jason Robertson Scores His 5th Goal of the Series to Tie the Game in the 2nd Period
220	6 comments	[Video] [DAL (2)-2 VGK] Jason Robertson Scores His Second Goal of the Game to Tie it Late in the 2nd
191	12 comments	[Video] Miks Indrasis with the move and the snipe to regain the lead for Latvia!
180	51 comments	[Video] Norway beats Canada 3-2
174	37 comments	[Video] [VGK (4) - DAL 0] Pietrangelo buries a wrister just as the PP expires to make it a 4-goal game
161	3 comments	[Video] Bruins prospect Dans Locmelis sends Riga into a frenzy with an opening goal vs. Sweden
161	8 comments	[Video] [DAL (1)-1 VGK] Luke Glendening Tips in the Thomas Harley Shot After Sustained Pressure from the Stars' Fourth Line
159	15 comments	Finnish fans hear Sweden is losing 1-3 to Latvia after Finland just lost 1-4 to Canada

 

Other Posts

score	comments	title & link
9,143	1,346 comments	The Carolina Hurricanes have been eliminated from the Stanley Cup Playoffs after being swept by the Florida Panthers
7,597	248 comments	[Satire] Report: There are now more bidders to buy the Ottawa Senators than there are fans of the Ottawa Senators
5,238	399 comments	Team Latvia beats Team USA at IIHF 2023, winning Bronze for the first time in history
4,384	192 comments	[Image] Bruce Boudreau front row at the wrestling
4,253	1,221 comments	[NHL Highlights] Jamie Benn cross-checks Mark Stone up high while Stone was down on the ice
4,121	801 comments	Benn suspended two games
3,821	88 comments	[Meme Monday Winner] I'm in the business of misery 😎
3,636	164 comments	[Granger] Adin Hill, who stopped all 34 shots he faced, on the popcorn that was thrown on him as he took the ice for the 3rd period - “I guess everything was just hitting me tonight.”
3,132	310 comments	[Devin Heroux] Canadian women's national team teammates Marie-Philip Poulin and Laura Stacey are getting married.
2,986	251 comments	[Greg Wyshynski] Matthew Tkachuk will be live tonight in Miami at Heat vs Celtics Game 6. He’ll appear on TNT during the pregame show, on set with Shaq, Kenny Smith and Charles Barkley.

 

Top Comments

score	comment
3,494	Groundedge said Homie you looked down at him, made eye contact, then leaned down and smooshed him
3,128	scrotote97 said Wow let's get the FBI called to my house and a prison sentence because my team is losing at sports! This sort of thing astounds me
2,609	briandeli99 said Absolute PR mastery by the Flyers sending fans to Dallas to conduct this false flag operation. Very happy with the new management.
2,489	ddottay said All he had to do is say “I got emotional and reacted poorly. There’s no excuse for my actions and I’m sorry to Mark.” And he couldn’t do that.
2,345	Trunkins said Jamie Benn” I can make everyone hate me” Andrew Shaw “Hold my beer!”

 

Awarded Posts

score/comments	awards	title & link
809 - 310 comments	1 Doot 🎵 Doot	[Stars] Statement about last night’s game
279 - 66 comments	1 All-Seeing Upvote	[Frank Seravalli] As Sens sale process drags on, so many rumblings and concerns surrounding funding of the Neko Sparks-led bid. Where is the money coming from? Who is writing the check? One source said: “Feels like the NHL has another John Spano on it’s hands.”
2,758 - 421 comments	1 Wholesome Seal of Approval	The Carolina Hurricanes have lost 12 straight Eastern Conference Finals games.
202 - 3,328 comments	1 All-Seeing Upvote	[GDT] Playoff Game Thread: Game 4 - Vegas Golden Knights (3 - 0) at Dallas Stars (0 - 3) - 25 May 2023 - 07:00PM CDT
1,905 - 268 comments	1 Take My Energy	[German Ice Hockey Federation] advance to final after 4-3 OT victory over USA

 

Awarded Comments

awards	score	comment
1 Wholesome, 1 Super Heart Eyes	704	Sumdood88 said I would like to personally thank the San Jose Sharks for Adin Hill. Thank you San Jose. We wouldn't be in this playoff run without you. Again, San Jose you are one of the biggest reasons for this run...
1 Take My Energy	12	SlurmLoco said The US women's national team has won 10 world championship titles since the last Canadian team won a Stanley Cup, so there's that.
1 All-Seeing Upvote	63	smokingmeth619 said NHL Prospects by team: Kamloops Blazers: * D Kyle Masters-Minnesota (4th Rd Pick 2021) * D Olen Zellweger-Anaheim (2nd Rd Pick 2021) * C Caedan Bankier-Minnesota (3rd Rd Pick...
1 Defeated	3	GoldWhale said With what money? Lmao
1 Gold	0	DepartmentOfWorks said Good win by the cats, but god damn your fans are dumb.

 

I’m new to Reddit and it’s nice to find a community that understands this condition. So, this is the first place I feel comfortable explaining my situation and asking for advice. (I’m getting emotional even thinking about telling my story)
I’m a 55 yo gay man. I’ve had issues with my spine and neck that got worse about 15+ years ago. Had 2 surgeries 10+ years ago which, looking back, probably triggered the CFS that had been in the background and not on my radar. Since then it’s been a long story of trying to live a normal life, figuring out there was something else going on preventing me from fully recovering, getting diagnosed with FM, and finally realizing I actually have ME/CFS.
After getting the correct diagnosis and learning about pacing etc I was able to live a life, not like the one I had before, but I was able to carry on. But over the last 2-3 years my symptoms have gotten worse. At the same time, my world has gotten smaller as friends went on with their lives and I’ve become isolated.
My home, which I own, has become an absolute embarrassment. I was already struggling with clutter building up when my dog, who I loved more than myself, got sick and died. Honestly, the only reason I survived losing her is because I still have a cat I also adore. I couldn’t abandon him (I know it may sound like it, but I’m not thinking of harming myself). Anyway, between the symptoms getting worse and being completely devastated after losing my dog, the clutter turned into filth. My energy levels dropped so low that I could barely make it to the kitchen and prepare one meal a day. I’m 6’ tall and was down to 130#. That was my lowest point, in weight and in life.
Since then, I’ve been trying to eat better and I’ve put on about half of the weight I’d lost over the previous 6 months. But between preparing food, cleaning the litter box (not as often as I’d like), my monthly dr appointment, and grocery shopping, I have absolutely nothing left to put into taking care of my home.
My house used to be nice. But things have gotten so bad I haven’t let anyone come inside in 2 years. I had hoped to sell it and move out of Florida but that now feels impossible. And things are falling apart. A section of my fence recently fell. I have a guy who sometimes does lawn work. I was going to ask if I could pay him to haul the fence out for bulk trash pickup later this month. Now, my A/C is on the fritz. Even if I had the money to pay a repairman right now, I’m too embarrassed to let anyone inside my house.
I know the advice might be a version of “get over your embarrassment and ask for help.” I honestly don’t know how to get past the embarrassment and I don’t know who to ask for help.
-It felt, at the same time, good and horrible to put that in writing
-Thanks in advance for any feedback

Double or Nothing has came and went. It had ups and downs, but overall, I liked the event a good amount. Back in March, I did a post ranking the fights of Revolution, the first wrestling PPV event I ever saw. So I figured I might as well make ranking posts for each PPV event I see from AEW. So, here's my rankings for the matches of Double or Nothing...kinda. There's one exception I'll be making.
Unranked. Jamie Hayter vs Toni Storm. Not really a match and more of a story moment, so I can't really feel like it's fair to rank it with the others, especially with how much they needed to work around Jamie Hayter's real life injury. Not much to this as a fight, but a decent way to show The Outcasts growing from petty bullies to full on brutal meances. And Jamie Hayter deciding to rip off her bandages and go out fighting was a cool moment. But by nature, the fight is pretty one-sided for Toni, ends pretty ani-climactically, and even taking Jamie's injury into account, there's some jank moments. Primarily, Toni giving Jamie a minor shove transitioning into Jamie full on sprinting to collide with the belt The Outcasts laid out. That was stupid.
#9. Jade Cargill vs Taya Valkyrie. Now we're getting to the fights I actually do count. This match was so goddamn boring. It almost solely consisted of basic kicks and tackles that rarely felt like there was much of an impact. It felt like there was delays to a lot of their moves, and the only part of the fight that got any emotion out of me was Taya jumping up to hit Jade as she was about to leap down on her. Other than that moment, and their finishers, I can't remember a single thing about the fight. There's some positives though. Jade Cargill's entrance with doing a dance number with her old sorority friends was cool, and Kris Statlander's return after the match to dethrone Jade, while rushed, was a nice way to cap off the segment. But it's not enough to pull this match out of the bottom spot.
#8. The Acclaimed vs the House of Black. This was a pretty fun match. The strategic mind of the House of Black is pretty noticeable, like them singling out and driving Anthony Bowens to his limit, even pulling out Max Caster and Billy Gunn right as he's about to tag them. It has a solid ending with Billy Gunn coming in at the very end and soloing the House of Black only to finally get taken down from a roundhouse kick by Malakai. And the opening rap from Max Caster is also legit one of the best ones he's ever did in his career. But the positive stuff I just mentioned? Yeah, that's kinda all there is that stands out about this fight. It's very basic without much to stand out from trios matches that either side did before. Even disregarding how the Acclaimed turned down the opportunity to include a rule of their own, I'd have a hard time telling you moments from this matchup specifically that make it special. Which for a PPV match, is very disappointing.
#7. FTR vs Jay Lethal and Jeff Jarret. As someone who's not a fan of either team, I was surprised with how much I liked the fight. There were really great moments of synergy from FTR, and solid tension in the fight, especially by the time Mark Briscoe gets knocked out. And some great heel work from Jeff Jarret and his wife Karen, Karen knocking out Aubrey Edwards as she was about to act as replacement referee, and Jeff's assault on Briscoe when he comes into consciousness. Also, Briscoe worked really well as a referee, legit seeing through and putting a stop to attempted cheats by Triple J. I feel like things dragged out a bit too long though, and the bit where Sonjay Dutt blocks Aubrey Edwards from reaching the ring for so long was stupid. Why couldn't she just shove him out of the way from the get go and THEN Karen knocks her out?
#6. The Hardys and Hook vs Ethan Page and The Gunns. This was a shockingly good match for a pre-show fight. There's some great synergy between both sides, special mention going to the back to back finishers the Hardys and Hook do to Page at the end or the Gunns simultaneously pinning down Matt Hardy together. And there's a ton of hype moments like Jeff Hardy leaping on the Gunns as they're about to pin Matt, Matt Hardy luring in the Gunns and Page into hitting the poles or going off the ropes, Hook judo flipping all three of his opponents back to back, or Page and the Gunns taking off Isiah's neck brace to brutalize him mid fight. I also feel like Jeff Hardy's rust worked to the fight's favor here, him falling off the ropes legit coming off as a result of the exhaustion he was facing during the fight. I will say, it seemed like Hook and the Hardy were pulling most of the weight for the fight to make it exciting since most of the memorable moments came specifically from their side, but all and all, it's a solid match.
#5. Wardlow vs Christian Cage. A pretty solid and fun fight that does a good job conveying Wardlow's strength, and Cage's strategic mind due to his experience with ladder matches. Luchasaurus and Arn Anderson' involvement was done well, and moments like Wardlow jumping off the ladder to crash onto Luchasaurus or tipping over the ladder while Cage was on top of it wwere pretty cool. The ladders were also used in pretty good ways, be it their use as weapons, to Wardlow falling off one laid our horizontally resulting in a shot to the groin, to one being worn down as Wardlow is about to use it while the more experienced Cage grabs a new one. And there's a nice subtle assist from Anderson at the very end, where he shakes Cage off the ladder allowing Wardlow to catch him and finish him off. Not much else to say. This was just fun.
#4. The Blackjack Battle Royale. This is just non-stop fun all the way. There's a lot of good moment of ringwork or emotion within the ring, and it feels really balanced for the most part. The tension of getting ring-outted is incredibly palpable, especially with Orange, and despite it being a battle royale, some nice individual moments to make people stand out amongst the chaos, like Kommander going on the ropes to dive into enemies outside of the ring without Kommander actually setting foot in the ring himself, aor Trent Beretta pushing Orange out of the way and taking the hit from Big Bill, getting himself eliminated. Also, the one on one between Orange and Strickland at the end was great that not only pushed Orange to his limits and shown great heel work from Strickland, but had a hillariously fitting fake out where instead of an Orange Punch, Cassidy gave a light kick to Strickland's hand while he was hanging from the ropes, eliminating him.
#3. The Elite vs The Blackpool Combat Club. There's one big flaw that stops this fight from being in ther Top 2. The camera cuts. It can be incredibly unfocused on what we're supposed to be following. I can kinda understand that due to the nature of it being full on chaos, but it results in stuff being missed like Kenny slamming Moxley onto nails (though at least that was shown in a replay even if we missed the initial impact), or Claudio throwing Matt Jackson down a flight of stairs. Other than that though? This was a pretty damn awesome. The tension and violence is at an all time high, and man, can it be uncomfortable to watch, but in a good way that adds intensity to the fight. The prime example coming with the BCC slamming Nick Jackson's foot on a bunch of thumb tacks and later forcing them in his mouth. Plus, "Wild Thing" playing in the background throughout the first half really makes it feel like a chaotic hectic party, and the Young Bucks knocking the singer out was just hilarious. The emotional moment with Kenny and Adam Page coming together near the end was strong, and there's some great synergy with simultaneous attacks done by both The Elite and the BCC. And there are some really great usage of props. Kenny Omega going all Captain America with a trash can lid, or Matt Jackson keeping fireworks in his legs to amplify the force of one of his kicks? Amazing stuff. And it has a pretty damn good Face–Heel Turn from Takeshita to end things off.
#2. Adam Cole vs Chris Jericho. What is without a doubt my most unpopular opinion on this post. But oh well. This fight was fucking awesome. Cole's hatred towards Jericho is palpable at all times, and the match makes some great usage of the props. The chair duel between Jericho and Sabu at the beginning where you can even notice the vibrations, Adam Cole seemingly going for a futile rope escape only to use it as an opportunity to grab the fire extinguisher and blow it on Jericho, Cole handcuffing Jericho with the chain Jericho used to just handcuff him, and the two using the chain to drag and choke out each other. And even without the props we get some great ringwork, like Cole kicking Jericho the split second Jericho is about to land a lionsault or Jericho catching Cole in the middle of his Panama Sunrise. Britt Baker coming back with a kendo stick to deliver some payback on Jericho was also cathartic. I see a lot of people who dislike the match being called off for an unsanctioned match, but I'm totally fine with it. When we see Cole beginning to cave in Jericho's eye by the very end, calling it off makes sense for the ref to do, and shows just how brutal Cole can be when he's angered.
#1. The Pillars Fatal Four-Way. Well, if it wasn't gonna be the BCC vs The Elite, what else would it be? The choreography is absolutely amazing, all of them bouncing off of and taking advantage of each other's moves near flawlessly, and the upper hand constantly changes from wrestler to wrestler. From Jungle Boy doing a spider suplex on both Darby Allin and Sammy Guevara at the same time which also ended up hitting MJF, Sammy Guevara's leaps to crash down on all Four Pillars at once, Darby Allin knocking MJF and Sammy over the barricade at the same time, MJF knocking Jungle Boy of the ring and confidently strutting in it as all the other Pillars are lying out of it exhausted, or the various times he gets into their heads during the fight to prey on their weaknesses. There's also some potent emotional moments like Sammy seemingly agreeing again to lay down for MJF only to use it as an opportunity to nearly pin him, Darby Allin using MJF's own signature hold against him as he promised, or Jungle Boy debating on whether he wants to use the belt as a weapon against Darby Allin only to decide to win it fair and sqaure. And the moment where all four of them hold each other simultaneously is simply legendary. The desperation from all Pillars to get a pin is incredibly powerful, and really adds to the suspense every time there's a count, or when one of the Pillars slips away from being pinned by another. Add on MJF winning through a really creative usage of cheating, him laying his belt on top of Jungle Boy as Darby Allin is about to crash down on him before taking down the weakened Darby, and it results in my favorite match of the PPV.

Hi friends! This is my first time using AirBnb and my expectations were far from met. To give some background, I am interning at a major company this summer post-graduating from college. I found this AirBnb for a fair price and was very affordable, so I booked it 3-4 weeks in advance. I have already paid half of the amount on the AirBnb.
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Upon arriving, the lock where I put in a code was not there and was only showing a keyhole. It was about 5-6 minutes after the check-in time and I did not hear from my host, so I asked how I should get into the unit. The host responded right away, apologized, and told me to grab the key from the electrical box. When I came into the guest house, I noticed right away a strong, chemical cleaning scent, like a bunch of febreze. The cupboards in the kitchen was filled with food, some even open. I picked up a box of instant mashed potatoes to throw away, and the bottom opened, making it spill all over the floor. In the kitchen cupboards, I also found a jar with 6-8 shotgun bullets, but I have not found any other form of weapon. I noticed a dead cockroach near the door, but I assumed it might have gotten in when I brought my belongings in.
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After moving my things in, I noticed my feet were black from dirt. Thats when I realized the floors were dirty and I had to mop them. I asked where the mop was to the host since the floors were dirty, and he told me they were in the closet and thanked me for letting him know. I have mopped them twice (and bought a new mop rag) and my feet are still coming up black the next day. In the bathroom, there were 2-3 long strands of brown hair on the wall and 3-4 tiny bugs in the shower. I also noticed all of the water comes up slightly cloudy. This makes me extremely worried about the cleanliness of the unit as a whole.
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I didn't get the best sleep since the bed was rock hard and made my back hurt throughout the night. This morning, I heard cats crying outside. I ignored it for a while, but upon looking outside, I have noticed 4-5 stray cats and 1 kitten, all of which hang out by my door and under my car. I am a cat mom so this bothers me as I want to help them but am unable to do so. I also checked the door this morning and have found it to be a really weak door that could easily be kicked down.
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This is my first time with AirBnb and it makes me wish I just got a hotel for my internship. I booked my reservation through July 30th, but I already want to leave. I have been extremely polite with the host up to this point, and made it clear to them I want to treat their guest home like my home and keep it clean, but I am very uncomfortable with the situation at hand. If this is normal and I seem dramatic, please tell me so I can shape up. But in my experience, I just don't think all of these circumstances put together is normal. Any advice, comments, or feedback would be greatly appreciated and welcomed. Thank you for listening to my rant. :)