Homes for sale in wood county wv

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I just started a job (Medical Assistant) in late April from another job that was very toxic and I had been at 6 months. I was very happy to get the new job but now I'm thinking I might be in another toxic work place. I didnt know a lot for this new job, but I had the basic office skills and I figured I could adapt. Now I'm not so sure.
When I was hired, I was promised half remote time, extensive training (which I made sure to clarify would happen as my previous position lacked severely), and one on one sessions with my boss every week during training (which they said would take a year or two) and they told me it was a "people first" atmosphere. I had some gut red flags but I thought I was being paranoid cause my previous job was awful and I was projecting. I've had great jobs before that I loved that started out rocky so I just told myself to see what happens.
Well now 40 days later, I've started noticing more stuff that is honestly worrying me.

1. I have not been given any remote time at home, which I understand I'm supposed to be training so maybe that's not an option right now, but I was told week one my boss wanted me to work from home the second week. It never happened. It could just be that everyone is busy or they wanted me to train more, whatever. I just wish they told me truthfully.
   
2. The first two weeks, I was trained maybe once and it was my boss reading a manual to me, stopping to say I don't need any of the stuff in sections, then reading again and promising to meet with me again later that week and get me a manual of my own. That didn't happen. I have not trained with her since and she has not been available for questions/trainings whenever I ask. When I brought this up, I was told it was my responsibility to make the manual and that I need to fill my time. Weird but ok, I did it. I decided to kind of take initiative and train myself and learn by doing (making sure to ask questions from peers and having them double check my work). It's slow going but I like to think I'm making some progress.
   
3. whenever I ask a question for anything, I get told to look at the manual - which again, training and makes sense, except when I have a question that the manual can't answer, I get told it is in the manual, I need to check again, and to ask if I have any questions. If I point out it's not in the manual they say I have to ask someone else and will look over my shoulder while I email someone my question... If I answer the questions via the manual/get emails from people explaining things that the manual doesnt, I get scolded (repeatedly) for not asking my peers/boss questions.
   
4. Within 3 weeks of me training myself from scratch, I got notice that I would be having a 30-60-90 day review, as well as my 6 month review (but my boss specifically told me she wouldn't be bringing in the hr board for the 6 month review) and I was given a weekly check in review sheet that has objectives I hadn't even heard of, but was willing to do because I want to give this job a fair shot.
   
5. At the same time I am being in my 40 days, the job is actively pushing out another employee that is supposed to be teaching me, hence making me the middle man for all negativity and that sucks, but honestly it's putting a strain on my training, which was already strained as it was and how they are treating said employee is severely harming their abilities in my eyes
   
6. Every time I bring up concerns or questions regarding my progress, training, abilities, etc, I get told to slow down, give myself some grace and that I have 2 years to learn everything. However, if I don't do something as timely as wanted ( not stated, just wanted) I get scolded. An example is an email about an event I am supposed to be in charge of (which btw I was not told what the event was in actuality or how to set up such event) was supposed to go out to two people to make sure they are available, but as I didn't know Anything about the event, I didn't know to do so, and my boss scolded me then said "I'll just do it and cc you so you know for next year". This happens a lot. Like 4 times a week a lot.
   
7. This could just be a me thing but when we have our weekly meetings, afterwards people stay and chat about whatever, and I stay to gleam some information from my peers and about them. Well in the last three weeks, I've noticed more and more hostile comments about everything. A couple examples: A speaker came and talked about work/life balance and it was actually really helpful and informative for me, but my coworkers just tore her to shreds. They made fun of her, claimed she was just lazy and a b word. Another time they thrned the conversation to their children being ungrateful and disrespectful because the teenager changed her phone password so her step mom couldn't open it and the ten year old got caught texting in class once and got a warning so the mom took the phone away. These were the nicer things said. It got so bad that I had to excuse myself because of how uncomfortable I was. I get work place gossip and backstabbing but even this seemed a bit much.
   

Then today, on a Friday 10 minutes before I was due to be done, I get an email from my boss with my 30 day review (that happened last week) and it is completely different than what we talked about last week when I met with my boss.
It states my "Focus on the tasks at hand has been sporadic, at best.", that I "struggled with following instructions and independently completing general duties. I am concerned as this is a large part of our support responsibilities." And that I am "sitting idle; she should be asking for guidance and verifying that she completed tasks correctly.". There was also a comment about an "unusual amount of time spent on her phone with personal phone calls".
I don't know what to do. Out of the 30 day review notes, I will cop to being on my phone a lot the first two weeks. Most of it was work related things (security apps, IT, etc) However, I did have a few personal calls to deal with. But the rest of it feels like a slap in the face. I am very overwhelmed, trying to do my best and trying to get as much information as possible, all while constantly feeling like no matter what I do, it isn't right, on the right timeline, or even remotely good enough.
I wonder if I am overreacting because I've only been at this job 40 days and every office has their toxicity in small doses (esp backstabbing and gossip) and I'm being told to just give it time, but after today's 4:20 email, I'm not so sure.
So.... Is my job toxic? Or am I just creating problems that aren't there?

To be honest I'm unsure of the relevancy of any of the information I've compiled over the past few days, but felt the need to put it out there just in case it can be of any use to anyone. Albeit I've done my best to be thorough I do accept that I may have missed and or misinterpreted the information found, such as acquisition costs of real estate, permits listed below as well as attorneys associated with Andrew Wold. I'm not here to speculate, but just wanted to put out what I've found. All information has been obtained through public record via Iowa Secretary of State, Scott County Electronic Docket Record search, Scott County Property search and Scott County Permit search.
Also apologies if incorrect Flair used - wasn't sure which route to go.
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Confirmed Owned By Andrew Wold Business(s):
324 Main Street - AQ 6/21 $4.193 - Davenport Hotel LLC - The Davenport (Licandro Leases Unit - Active)
219 W 4th St - AQ 06/21 $4.193 - Davenport Hotel LLC
217 Brady Street - AQ 03/20 $660 - Andrew Wold Investments, LLC
307 W 6th Street - AQ 02/20 $1.160 - Andrew Wold Investments, LLC
518 Harrison St - AQ 02/20 $1.160 - Andrew Wold Investments, LLC
1028 Harrison St - AQ 07/15 $10,680 - Andrew Wold Investments, LLC
923 E 6th Street - AQ 10/19 $83,500 - Andrew Wold > Andrew Wold Investments LLC QCD $0 12/19 > Andrew Wold Investments LLC QCD $0 10/22
311 Kirkwood BD - AQ 10/19 $40k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC
317 Kirkwood BD - AQ 11/19 $100k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC
633 Kirkwood BD - AQ 9/19 $100k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC > 10/22 QCD $0
1427 Jersey Ridge RD - AQ 10/19 $160k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC > 12/19 QCD $0 > 10/22 QCD $0
1315 Belle Ave - AQ 10/15 $22k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC
1440 Jersey Ridge RD - AQ 10/19 $160k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC > 12/19 QCD $0 > 10/22 QCD $0
314 E Rusholme St - AQ 10/19 $95k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC > 12/19 QCD $0 > 10/22 QCD $0
2224 Iowa St - AQ 09/19 $97k - Andrew Wold > 12/19 Andrew Wold Investments LLC QCD $0 > 10/22 QCD $0
2215 Jefferson Av - AQ 11/19 $75k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC
801 E Rusholme St - AQ 09/19 $110k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC
2415 Farnam St - AQ 10/19 $65k - Andrew Wold > 12/19 Andrew Wold Investments LLC QCD $0 > 10/22 QCD $0
201 E Dover Ct - AQ 09/19 $130k - Andrew Wold Investments
211 E Dover Ct - AQ 09/19 $84,900 - Andrew Wold > 12/19 Andrew Wold Investments LLC QCD $0 > 10/22 QCD $0
2702 Leclaire St - AQ 10/19 $165k - Andrew Wold Investments > 12/19 Andrew Wold Investments LLC QCD $0
221 W Pleasant St - AQ 09/19 $105k - Andrew Wold > 12/19 Andrew Wold Investments LLC QCD $0 > 10/22 QCD $0
2602 Harrison St - AQ 11/19 $116k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC
2631 Main St - AQ 11/19 $91,500 - Andrew Wold Investments LLC
2801 Harrison St - AQ 11/19 $120k (Purchased from Licandro Management LLC) - Andrew Wold Investments LLC
311 W 3rd St - AQ 4/22 $999,313 - Dorothea, LLC
2612 Harrison St - AQ 05/15 WD $0 - Andrew R Wold > 05/15 Andrew Wold Investments QCD $0 > 12/15 Harrison St CoOp QCD $0 > 05/16 Harrison St CoOp QCD $0
313 Harrison St - AQ 12/19 $1.5 - Andrew Wold Investments LLC > 12/19 307 Harrison St CoOp QCD $0
246 W 3rd St- AQ 12/19 $1.5 - Andrew Wold Investments LLC > 12/19 246 W 3rd St CoOp QCD $0
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Found Business(s) Under Andrew (R) Wold (confirmed by Home Office Location / Signing of Incorporation):
Davenport Hotel L.L.C - 05/21 Addition of Officer Kerr, Leonard per opencorporates.com
Alliance Contracting
Andrew Wold Investments LLC
Village Property Management LLC
Dorothea LLC
246 W 3rd Street Cooperative*
1224 Main Street Cooperative*
917 W 3rd Street Cooperative*
909 W 3rd Street Cooperative*
307 Harrison Street Cooperative*
Harrison Street Cooperative*
Perry Street Cooperative*
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Business (Potentially) Associated To Andrew Wold:
739 Perry Street Cooperative** - Tawna Kerr Signed Articles of Incorporation
Attorney: MICHAEL L. GORSLINE Home Office: 1609 N. ANKENY DR., #200
Kerr Enterprises LLC - - shares same PO box as Davenport Hotel LLC per BBB.org
Attorney: JOHN D. HUNTER Home Office: 1609 N. ANKENY BLVD. #200
246 W 3rd Street Cooperative* - Andrew Wold Signed Articles of Incorporation
Attorney: MICHAEL L. GORSLINE Home Office: 3629 CEDARWOOD CT
1224 Main Street Cooperative* - Andrew Wold Signed Articles of Incorporation
Attorney: MICHAEL L. GORSLINE Home Office: 1740 JERSEY RIDGE RD
917 W 3rd Street Cooperative* - Andrew Wold Signed Articles of Incorporation
Attorney: MICHAEL L. GORSLINE Home Office: 1740 JERSEY RIDGE RD
909 W 3rd Street Cooperative* - Andrew Wold Signed Articles of Incorporation
Attorney: MICHAEL L. GORSLINE Home Office: 1740 JERSEY RIDGE RD
307 Harrison Street Cooperative* - Andrew Wold Signed Articles of Incorporation
Attorney: MICHAEL L. GORSLINE Home Office: 3629 CEDARWOOD COURT
Harrison Street Cooperative* - Andrew Wold Signed Articles of Incorporation
Attorney: MICHAEL L. GORSLINE Home Office: 1740 JERSEY RIDGE RD
Perry Street Cooperative* - Andrew Wold Signed Articles of Incorporation
Attorney: MICHAEL L. GORSLINE Home Office: 1740 JERSEY RIDGE RD
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Address / Building Potentially Associated To Andrew Wold:
The Roslyn Flats - 739 Perry Street - Sold to Kerr Enterprises LLC 10/19 $960,400 > 12/19 739 Perry St CoOp QCD $0 - Reviews as recent as 12/22 claim Andrew Wold as management - Listed by Sarah Tyler + Libby Mills per Zillow Listing 06/01/2023 - Contact Point is Village Property Management per current tenants 06/02/2023
The Berg - 246 W 3rd Street - Quit Claimed $0 From Andrew Wold LLC 11 days after AQ
7086 E Valley Dr - AQ 1/22 $200k - Andrew Wold Investments LLC > 05/22 Tyler Sarah QCD $0
400 N Main St- AQ 06/21 $2.640 - Kerr Enterprises - Found Facebook Comments State Andrew has hand in management of prop - Home Office of Licandro Management
1605 Harrison St - AQ 01/18 $102k - Village Property > Sold to Andrew Wold Investments LLC 01/12 $165k > Sold To Kerr Enterprises 03/21 $525k (Alliance Contracting Office Located in building at Address per BBB.org)
1601 N Harrison St - AQ 12/14 $53,600 - Village Property Management LLC > Sold To Kerr Enterprises 03/21 $175k
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Attorneys Associated To Andrew Wold:
MICHAEL L. GORSLINE (Village Property, 739 Perry Street CoOp., 246 W. 3rd Street CoOp,)
ROBERT H GALLAGHER (07821 STP224465, 07821 SMCR235719, 07701MUNTA0049047, ) (Potential relation to Bettendorf Mayor Robert S. Gallagher)
ROBERT S. GALLAGHER (07821 SCSC235169, 07821 SCSC235170, 07821 SCSC235166 )
THOMAS J. PASTRNAK (Dorothea LLC,)
KEVIN HALLIGAN ( 07821 LACE135491 )
MARY LEANNE TYLER ( 07821 LACE135491)
MATTHEW LEDDIN (07821 STWG949267)
MICHAEL HINES (07821 STSD15019)
ANDREA D. JAEGER (07821 STA0314532, 07821 NTA0314529 )
ROBERT ROSENSTIEL (07821 STA0088502)
PETER GLENN GIERUT (07821 SRCR413113, 07821 EQCE134739, 07821 SCSC240383)
CALEB RAHN (07821 SRCR413113)
MICHAEL MCCARTHY (07821 SCSC217509)
MARC GELLERMAN (07821 LACE125915)
KEISHA DOUGLAS (07821 EQCE133984)
RICHARD ALLEN DAVIDSON (07821 EQCE133984)
ERIC ARMAND WALDMAN (07821 EQCE133984)
LAWERENCE LAMMERS (07821BESTWG378290, 07821BGST100936)
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Found Building Permits w/ Alliance Contracting:
Building Permit 21-106828 > Andrew Wold Investments LLC hires Alliance Contracting for services
Building Permit 21-56229 > Andrew Wold Investments LLC hires Alliance Contracting for services - Fail Elect + Mech
Building Permit 20-84025 > Andrew Wold Investments LLC hires Alliance Contracting for services
Building Permit 21-106816 > Andrew Wold Investments LLC hires Alliance Contracting for services
Building Permit 21-102885 > Andrew Wold Investments LLC hires Alliance Contracting for services
Building Permit 20-80150 > 739 Perry Street Cooperative hires Alliance Contracting for services
Building Permit 21-22769 > WAUKEE INVESTMENTS I LLC hires Alliance Contracting for services
Building Permit 21-56727 > KERR ENTERPRISES LLC hires Alliance Contracting for services
Building Permit 21-57086 > KERR ENTERPRISES LLC hires Alliance Contracting for services
Building Permit 21-57086 > LICANDRO MANAGMENT hires Alliance Contracting for services
Building Permit 20-84861 > KERR ENTERPRISES LLC hires Alliance Contracting for services
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Failed Inspections:
307 W 6th St - The Roosevelt
- Permit 21-56231 - Mech Final Fail
- Permit 21-56230 - Elect Final Fail
- Permit 21-56229 - Mech + Elect Final Fail
- Permit 23-2610 - Elect Final Fail
- Permit 23-2909 - Gas Meter Release Fail
- Permit 23-8239 - Elect Final Fail
311 W 3rd St - The Dorothea
- Permit 22-68798 - Elect Final Fail
- Permit 22-72625 - Elect Final Fail
- Permit 23-15516 - Elect Final Fail
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217 Brady St - M Lounge
- Permit 20-47526 Mech Final Fail (no inspections called for)
- Permit 20-84025 Building Final Fail (no inspections called for)

I came here to vent and talk about my current situation. I am a female, 28 years old and I have a 5 month old daughter and I’m currently 10 weeks pregnant. I have been married to my husband for a year. At first, there were no signs of his anger and I didn’t even know he had that side of him. He presented himself as a gentle put together man. Flash forward to a year later and I see a major change. He gets explosive with certain conversations when I bring up his family and our daughter. The last fight we had which made me go to a hotel started when I told him I didn’t feel comfortable having a large amount of people over my home when we have a 5 month old. I asked kindly can they please social distance wear protection. He flipped out on me and stated he would NOT tell his family to wear masks. He slammed his hands on the table and punched the wall with all his might. It looked like he broke his hand. He proceeded to tell me to “F” myself and continued to yell. He then placed all the blame on me saying I’ve been testy lately. Which is true, because I have raging pregnancy hormones. Which I have apologized to him for. I am nervous that this will affect my unborn child and my pregnancy. I also do not want my daughter to be around that violence. I left immediately and went to a hotel for 2 days. She didn’t see any of the fight by the way. It’s still TERRIBLE that he did that when she was in the house. I am shocked at who I married and I am devastated. I do not know what course of action to take next. I completely didn’t see this coming from him. I have suspicion that his job is the route to his anger and I also feel he has trouble with dealing with responsibility and pressures with having a new baby. Someone please help. I have decided that it may be best for him to move back to him parents until we get counseling. Please let me know what you think.

I've seen a couple posts about the Lucas and Dawn extreme battle, and how to clear it without Adaman or Irida. I wanted to share my own clears, without them or any other limited pairs. I want to get this out of the way early though: they are high investment; the 5*s used are 3/5 and EX. They're not all necessary, but I want to be up front about that. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to record video of the game, so it's all in text. I'll outline what I use for grid, and a rough play by play of critical actions and events. I have the images as proof of clear, if anyone needed those (hopefully in the post, if it didn't take I'll add in a comment). Also a good alternative to Dawn has already been shared if this one doesn't work out. Hopefully this can help.
VS LUCAS The team I used is as follows:

• Tank: EX 5/5 Aaron. Grid takes MGR9 on Attack Order, Staggering 4, Unbending, Trainer Move: MPR, and Precision Pals. Vigilance lucky skill.
• Tech: EX 5/5 Lucian. Grid can take anything, spec for bulk. Vigilance lucky skill.
• Striker: EX 5/5 Dawn. Grid takes Pecking Order, Tough Cookie, Healthy Healing, both sync damage nodes, and X Def All MPR. Lucky Cookie doesn't matter, I didn't want to give up my Status Immunity, but Crit Strike 2 is ideal in my book. Defense Crush 2 just activates too infrequently, and we're spamming Seed Bomb.

Notes:

• Aaron and Dawn need EX for the damage boosts. I imagine Aaron needs the defensive stats too, but I'm not sure.
• Lucian may not need EX, but I had a lot of trouble getting him to survive sync without it.
• Any actions that are unclear in the writeup of what's needed, Aaron should Defend Order, Lucian should Growl, Dawn should Seed Bomb.
• 3/5 on Lucian and Aaron is definitely fine. 3/5 on Dawn is probably fine.

Play-by-Play:

1. Turn order should go Lucian Growl, Dawn X Def All, then Aaron using Attack Order. Aaron needs to flinch here, then queue a trainer move before they act. It's easier than it sounds.
2. Following this, Aaron wants to use trainer move twice, and take first sync. Lucian spams Growl until Kabutops' first Liquidation, after which use Trainer Move; you'll want the gradual healing or he can get KO'd (essential if non-EX). Dawn spams X Def All until capped or out of MPR. Note: Dawn DOES NOT NEED to proc MPR. Once Def is done, spam Seed Bomb on the left side.
3. Lucian continues Growl, Aaron should finish buffing, and at this point Aaron is likely low on HP due to the Liquidation. Dawn should Full Restore on him. Dawn takes second sync on Kabutops, Aaron should aim for a flinch on the right side if possible, queueing Defend Order. If you hit it, you get another full round of actions, which is ideal. Dawn's Seed Bomb should continue on the left, until it's low on HP.
4. Following Lucas' sync, Aaron should use Heal Order. If Lucian died, legitimately just pack it up. If you're not EX, and he keeps dying, proc Heal Order instead of Defend after the flinch, Lucian will survive and Aaron should be fine. Lucian wants to start Growling to remove the X Atk All that Lucas activates, or Dawn's sync gets substantially weaker.
5. KO left side as it queues a move, then focus Dawn's offensive pressure on the right. Aaron should aim for another Attack Order flinch on Lucas at this point. When Dawn hits third sync, hit center. He'll likely survive, but we're in the home stretch.
6. This is a moment of truth. If Aaron did not hit flinch against Liquidation in Step 5, attempt to flinch the right side, then center. Lucas will use Mega Kick. Aaron can tank it, but it's rough. If you had to use Heal Order before sync in 4 to keep Lucian alive, I imagine Mega Kick is a straight KO. Dawn should prioritize taking out whoever didn't flinch. If both flinched, take down the right; Muddy Water is rough due to -2 accuracy. If she reaches final sync, take out whatever's left.

It's possible, if reliant on flinch. I also recognize it's a lot to ask for all EX options, but this one was really tough.
VS DAWN I used this team:

• Tank: EX 5/5 Dawn. Grid for Healthy Healing, X Def All MPR, and defensive stats. Status Immunity lucky skill, but it's flexible.
• Tech: EX 5/5 Lucian. Grid for sync power with Burst In, Ramp Up is optional. Vigilance lucky skill.
• DPS: EX 5/5 BP Candice. Grid for move damage. Agile Entry, Bob and Weave, Superduper Effective 2, Hostile Environment 2. Crit Strike 2 lucky skill, we're fighting mostly out of weather.

Notes:

• Dawn needs EX. The double damage buff is critical, and her tanking needs to be on point.
• EX BP Candice isn't necessary. Her EX doesn't contribute much to this, since she won't be using sync.
• 5/5 Candice might be necessary for the Blizzard DPS. Unsure, couldn't test that, but I feel like it's closer than you'd want. The other two are fine at 3/5.
• EX Lucian isn't necessary either. My wife's account has him uninvested and he still gets the job done.
• While you can go for MPR on Candice's trainer move, I didn't. I think the turn is wasted.

Play-by-play:

1. Dawn uses two X Def All, then her trainer move on herself. Two special moves will hurt, she'll die to Wood Hammer if you don't heal. Lucian just spams Growl like his life depends on it, because it does. Candice uses Hail immediately, then two trainer moves. If she dodges the first AoE attack, you are in business. Otherwise, it's not run-ruining.
2. Dawn takes first sync. Lucian can continue to Growl. Damage in this fight is surprisingly low when Sandstorm isn't up, so the Gradual Healing is less immediately essential. Candice sets up Dire Hit+, then spams Blizzard. If Candice doesn't dodge the second AoE move, I'm pretty sure it's a reset, she'll die to sync. When the foe is at -6 Attack, have Lucian use X Sp Atk until sync is ready. When enemy sync is queued up, immediately have Candice set to re-apply Hail.
3. Enemy Dawn will get to sync before you hit second, everyone should survive. Lucian takes second sync, aiming at enemy Dawn. Candice should spam Blizzard, and should be able to take out sides just as the right is queueing up a move. Lucian, who should not need Growl, should set up X Sp Atk and his trainer moves to be ready for the next sync.
4. Tragedy will almost certainly strike. Enemy Dawn now has Sure Hit/Sure Crit, and Candice will be KO'd.
5. By this point though, Dawn should easily survive until the finish line. Once Lucian reaches sync, it's over.

This was a lot more consistent, and a low lower investment, than the Lucas fight.
Hopefully these help.

Hello all! I've got some decants for available for sale. Bundles available... Scroll down! Please comment before PMing/chatting! Chat preferred.
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New this week: Blu Atlas - Atlantis
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Decants available:

Designer:	2mL:	5mL:	10mL:
Armaf Club de Nuit Intense Man EDP	$2	$4	$7
Blu Atlas Atlantis EDP	$4	$9	$16
Dolce & Gabbana The One EDP	$4	$7	$13
Dolce & Gabbana The One EDT	$3	$6	$10
Guerlain L'Homme Ideal EDP (Out of stock)	$4	$9	$16
Lalique Encre Noire EDT	$2	$4	$7
Prada Amber Pour Homme Intense EDP	$4	$7	$12
Versace Eros Flame EDP	$4	$7	$12
Versace Pour Homme EDT	$3	$5	$8

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Niche:	2mL:	5mL:	10mL:
Escentric Molecules Molecule 01	$4	$9	$16
Etat Libre d'Orange Hermann a Mes Cotes EDP	$5	$11	$19
Etat Libre d'Orange You or Someone Like You EDP	$5	$11	$19
Histoires de Parfums Ambre 114 EDP	$6	$13	$23
Histoires de Parfums Outrecuidant	$7	$15	$25
Histoires de Parfums Prolixe	$7	$15	$25
Histoires de Parfums 1725 EDP	$6	$13	$23
Histoires de Parfums 1969 Parfum de Revolte EDP	$6	$13	$23
Juliette has a Gun Moscow Mule EDP	$5	$11	$19
Juliette has a Gun Not a Perfume EDP	$5	$11	$19
Juliette has a Gun Vanilla Vibes EDP	$5	$11	$19
Maison Francis Kurkdjian Baccarat Rouge 540 EDP	$13	$23	$37
Maison Francis Kurkdjian Gentle Fluidity Silver EDP	$11	$22	$35
Maison Margelia Replica (Untitled) L'Eau	$12	$25	$40
Parfums de Marley Herod	$9	$19	$31
Parfums de Marley Layton	$9	$19	$31
Parfums de Marley Pegasus	$9	$19	$31
Serge Lutens Fille en Aiguilles	$18	$36	$58
Xerjoff Naxos EDP	$11	$25	$43

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Discontinued:	2mL:	5mL:	10mL:
Guerlain L'Homme Ideal Cologne	$7	$16	$28
Mugler A*Men Pure Havane	$9	$19	$31
YSL La Nuit de L'Homme Bleu Electrique	$7	$13	$21

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Make your own bundles of 3 or 5 decants for heavy discounts! (10+ decant bundles available, chat for more information)

• MAKE YOUR OWN BUNDLE 3 (MYOB3):
  • 2mL bundle: 3 x any 2mL decants - 5% off
  • 5mL bundle: 3 x any 5mL decants - 10% off
  • 10mL bundle: 3 x any 10mL decants - 15% off
• MAKE YOUR OWN BUNDLE 5 (MYOB5):
  • 2mL bundle: 5 x any 2mL decants - 10% off
  • 5mL bundle: 5 x any 5mL decants - 15% off
  • 10mL bundle: 5 x any 10mL decants - 20% off

**The Designer category cannot be combined with Niche/Discontinued, while the Niche and Discontinued category can be combined for the MYOB bundles*\*
**All 10mL MYOB bundles will come in the nicer bottles, including designers*\*
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Shipping:
CONUS only. $9 flat. All packages will be shipped out via USPS parcel select ground within 1-2 business days after payment and will take 2-8 days to arrive.
Orders of single 2mL decants can be shipped via USPS first class for $4.
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Payment methods:
PayPal F&F or Zelle.
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Notes:
- Decants will come in bottles that look like this
- Niche and discontinued 10mL decants will come in nicer bottles.
- Upgrade designer 10mLs to the nicer bottles for $1!
- All decants will come sealed with PTFE/Teflon tape.
- Clearly labeled with fragrance house and name.
- They will be individually wrapped and packaged using a small plastic bag, bubble wrap, and cardboard support.

It's hard to build genuine friendships at 30+ years of age, I've been through too much and I can't be friends with anyone like I was at 20. I can only keep a lot of things inside and can't find anyone to talk to. I have to pretend that everything is fine for fear that people around me will worry.
I'm always busy with my work and being away from socialising which isn't good for me. At times the inadequacy of being alone is magnified by the fact that there are empty rooms with no company. So I don't like to stay at home I prefer some outdoor activities, gatherings with friends, which distract me and make me feel better. But I know I can't stay like this, I have to find new friends and long-term partners with whom I can build relationships. That's the only way to get to the root of the problem. I would like to meet people my age and have more in common with each other, share each other's lives or something interesting to add some fun to each day.

I am 22 years old, and really want a house with land - sooner than later, preferably.

• Income: $87k
  
• Assets: $15k (worth a lot more back in 2021) company stock, vested but trade locked until 2024
  
• Savings: None, but usually have $4-$8k in my checking account at any given time.
  
• Debt: $23k left on car. $500/mo
  
• Career: Unstable. Salary is stuck. Need to leave company if I want to make more money.
  

Homes I want are in the $280k-$340k range and are competitive.
I just feel like even if I save up ~15-20k for an FHA loan sellers won't want to bother with me compared to Californians/NYers moving into the area with $500k in their pocket.
Is there anything I can do?

I have guitar rig le and I use raum and replika gr as my main delay and reverb and they sound good but it kinda makes it feel redundant that you can by them standalone or integrated into a rack plugin like guitar rig 6 and they're both included in komplete standard and up. It makes me wonder if the guitar rig plugin itself maybe down-samples the plugins inside it or the sound is somehow altered/ not as good. As an example,the resources of the plugin gets more stretched out as you add filters ,eq, modulators, and so on making, raum for example, sound worse as you add to the rack. I know pretty much nothing aout programming but I know resources are a thing, lol. You already have the left,right, and stereo setting alongside things like metronome and other features that would effect the sound that's not an plugin effect so it makes me wonder.
The sales going on right now and I'm wondering if I should get guitar rig pro or use that money to help get komplete standard. I know the komplete bundles come with WAY more than just effects like in guitar rig but the effects are what I'm interested in, not the instruments or expansions.

thank you so much for any feedback (: _
The parking lot was abandoned, the pavement marks were worn out and grass was overgrown. The lot used to serve a little convenience shop which is now deserted and the light poles stopped working except for one luminating a beaten up pay phone. My car was the only one there. With me I had 5 dollars and my pet goldfish, Jason Bateman, in a plastic bag. I messed up. I was struggling to sleep on my backseat, I had very little gas and nowhere to go next.
My fish looked freaked out. I can’t blame him, he must be scared. Just as my eyelids were slowly shutting, something soft hit my head. It was my fish. And he was now on the floor, frantically moving around the transparent bag, pushing it with an incredible show of strength for a fish. Oh well. I took the bag and got out of the car. There was a small creek nearby . I opened the bag and let my fish into the stream, and he swam away. “Goodbye!” I said. Life in the stream is better than life in a plastic bag, at least I hoped so. I went back to my car and tried falling asleep, I could not stop thinking of my fish, Jason. I worried for him but I had no way of knowing if he’s okay, nothing to do about it.
The sound of an orchestra woke me up. I don’t know how many hours have passed or how much I have slept. A melody was played, the most beautiful melody I have ever heard, and a big bright yellow light shined through the windows of my car. I was so enchanted I didn’t even question it. I went outside of my car. And there he was, a fish of colossal size, making a friendly face to me.
“Hello”, he was talking in fish language, but I understood every word.
“Thank you for saving me, I owe you a favor.”
I stuttered, struggling to articulate any answer.
“Don’t you remember? I’m your fish, Jason Bateman! you freed me! I made my way down the stream and found a little fish town. I settled down and found a job I love. I met my beautiful fish wife and raised 3 precious fish boys. My life was the best I could ever wish for, all thanks to you! Quick, climb on my back, let me show you something."
His aura and the tone of his voice were comforting. Without hesitating, I climbed on his back and we took off into the sky. Up there, the sun rising reflected its light on the skyscrapers in the city skylines. From there the cars driving down the highway looked miniature, just as my problems seemed to me at that moment. They didn't matter anymore, Jason Bateman was taking me to a better place. As we passed the endless suburban sprawl, I watched the people down there, going on their normal morning routine. I wondered if they could see us in the sky. I remember being one of them just yesterday, but I wasn't anymore, I was sure of that. I didn't know where the fish was taking me but I trusted him, whatever he's going to show me must be life changing. Finally after a few hours we landed on a glacier.
“Welcome to the north pole!” said Bateman, as he slid down the smooth ice.
We arrived at a little ice hut, inside there was an ice lamp, an ice couch, and an ice television facing it. On the floor there was a little container of fish food.
“Welcome! Feel at home” Bateman said, as we sat on the couch and he used the ice remote to turn on the ice television.
The ice channel aired reruns of the ice show. Bateman picked up the fish food.
“Want some?” he asked
“Sure” I said, and he gave me a little crumb.
For hours we binged the ice show, we watched it over and over and over, but somehow it never got old. Everytime I watched I noticed something new, the characters became so deep and intricate. Who knew a show about ice could be so interesting?
“This is the best show I have ever watched,” I told Bateman.
“I know,” he said, “I know."
Every once in a while he would give me another crumb of the fish food.
“This is the best food I have ever eaten.”
“I know, I know,” he replied, with a very knowing fish grin .
I never felt more peaceful and happy, being here, in the coziest room, watching the best show, eating the best food, alongside the most beautiful fish I have ever seen. Who would've guessed? This is all I need.

25 female here. I feel like I am not experiencing life like I should at my age. I am single, and have been for 7 years now. My last relationship was sexually an d mentally abusive. The last person i had feelings for and had feelings for me, didn't want to go into a LDR, despite being wishy washy anyways, coming back and leaving in my life at random. Finally left about two years ago, and now an online friend claims to have feelings for me, but they have not met me, only have done calls and video played games with me which has opened up some old wounds from the last time someone got feelings for me. And even if i were to try that possibility, they are even farther away from where I live, and I struggle with thinking that because we tend to argue or misunderstand each other, we might not even be a good match. Not that I haven't tried putting myself out there. But dating websites are a bust for me, I either have to deal with a ton of people wanting to "mess around" or people who don't really know how to be friends with someone first before trying to have a relationship with them. Everyone seems to expect me to be on my phone all of the time on dating websites, or else I'm not worth really going farther than just small talk. Going out in this world is daunting as a female, and even then, it can sometimes feel like everyone has someone but me. I feel very alone in crowded rooms.
I have deep and extensive SA trauma from three separate people that I have been working on and sometimes it feels like it prevents me from forming healthy relationships in the first place. Not to mention that a few months ago, I had repressed memories pop up about my mom who emotionally and mentally abused me, only rarely physically abused me. It wasn't uncommon for me as a kid to be called 'selfish' or be constantly compared to my other friends and to be told I'm just like family members she considered bad. I somehow got in trouble for being depressed but I was also dealing with SA and being bullied. My mom is judgemental and has gotten so far into religion and politics that she now sees everything as demonic or moreso black and white. She recently said Pokémon was demonic, a game that I have played for comfort for years now. She even somehow blamed me getting sick this winter on me. It's hard for me to have a conversation with her like I used to, because of both the abuse she's put me through and the guilt she makes me feel for mistakes or even accidents. If I try to come to her about my struggles, she either fires back with "her life sucked more" or that I need to pray more. She has guilted me enough for struggling with sin and mistakes and pushed me so far to actually distance myself from my religion (Christianity), something I held really dear to me and that kept me from snapping a lot. I feel like I'm always having to hide around her and walk on eggshells so she doesn't explode on me. I flinch when she yells at me and it makes me feel weak that at 25, I feel like I can't live my life or do what I want in fear of her.
I struggle to maintain relationships or even talk to some people because my self esteem is so low, that I consider myself to be unimportant, not special, and not really worth anyone's time. I feel guilty for being nerdy and geeky at times, and for liking the things I like. I feel like I barely know myself, because I've been playing a character for my mom and God knows who else out of fear of being hurt or hurting someone else's feelings. My mind is warped, I'm always second guessing every single move and thought I have. It's never quiet in my head, and I blame and talk down on myself whenever anything happens. My college and high school friends have moved on, and are getting married, having children, making friends and communities. I'm absolutely ecstatic for them, but sometimes it really gets to me that for the most part, I go to work and come home to an empty home. No one really talks to me other than an online friend I made through a discord server my other friend made. Occasionally I will get a message or two from the friend who made the discord server. I rarely get invited to do anything with anyone other than my parents. My dad sometimes takes me fishing, and some days we do have family days. But the recent revelation about my mom has taken some of the fun out of it. I rarely get out for anything anymore.
I desperately want out of this slump or pit or whatever anyone wants to call it but I never have the motivation to. I used to work out consistently as I used to be an athlete. Now I can barely muster up the energy and motivation to go for a 30 minute run. I want to meet my tribe or just SOMEONE new, but I have zero clue on where to even go to do that without going online and even so, I feel like I am not worth anyone's time and I feel like a fraud. I want to take care of my home, but I come home and I feel like I'm lead. I want to play and bond with my dog, but I feel too sad and depressed to even do anything. And then I kick myself because I have a good job. I have food to eat. I can pay my bills. I am planning on going to grad school in the near future if I can muster up the courage for it. Do I even have the right to really complain? I don't know. But I felt like I needed to get some off it off of my chest.

It was Danvers who finally pushed him in. We’d been feeding the fire with hardwood since the afternoon and it had gotten big as the wind picked up by nightfall, flickering cross our faces and warming our cheeks better than a gas heater. He didn’t even scream when he fell. The flames just swallowed him up—sparks shooting out like hot vomit. He knew what he’d done. He knew it was wrong. When he lifted himself up and came out of the fire he stood dead still, staring at us, smiling like we’d done him a favour. Maybe he thought he deserved to turn into ash. Maybe he did deserve it. I know I kept my fingers tight round the handle of the axe just the same till he keeled over and Cauley had touched the corpse with his foot and we knew he was dead. The three of us, we kept silent for a long while after that. There was just the sound of wood burning and it was better that way. None of us touched the body but none of us looked away, either: you could still make out his face, unmistakable, when the rest of him was dark and formless. He was a face on a pile. Then the wind started taking bits and pieces and carrying them away. Like I told the police, he didn’t touch me, but I knew some of the kids he’d done it to. He’d done it to Danvers. I remember once when all the other kids were gone, I’d stayed after class, Mr Gregor bent himself close to my ear and told me the real story. “You’re a wicked one,” he said when he was done, “just like Don Whitman.”
They used to scare us with Don Whitman, the adults: the other teachers, our parents, the priest. But no one ever explained it. They’d just say, “You better do what we want or else Don Whitman will come back and get you.” Mr Gregor was the only one ever to tell it to me with details. He told it different, too. He said he remembered because he was the same age as Don Whitman and they went to the same school. He said that what the others say they remember is like Cain and Abel or Little Red Riding Hood. Even the landscape tells the fairy tale. After it happened, Don Whitman’s school got torn down, then his house. And the bells in the Church got changed: the ones they rang after Elizabeth Cartwell had come back hysterical with the news.
You can’t tear down or change a man’s memory, Mr Gregor told me.
Once you see, it’s forever.
Elizabeth Cartwell’s parents moved away as soon as the police investigation finished. A lot of people moved away. But Mr Gregor showed me a newspaper from Hill City, North Dakota from some years later. The paper was yellow but you could read the black print fine. The story was about a girl who’d killed herself. The photo was of Elizabeth Cartwell. As he held it out for me to see, his hand shook and I felt his breath grow warmer against the skin around my neck. Nothing made him shake as much as what happened to Elizabeth Cartwell, not even the details.
Don Whitman was seventeen when he did it. He was handsome, with wide shoulders and played football. All the girls liked him. He was going to go to college. Maybe that’s why they thought he was ready: they thought he was a man. They thought he’d be with them. It was a school night when they woke him and drove out to the old pumping station, so that he could see everything for himself. They wanted to make him a part of it just like they were. If he saw, he would want it just like they did. I was always told that he drove out there by himself, but Mr Gregor told me that’s part of the lie. He said Don Whitman’s father was in the car with the mayor and the chief of police. He said, “How would he have found the place by himself—why would he have gone looking?”
The place is in a wood not far from the border. Of course, the whole underground is filled with cement now, but you can still see where the opening used to be: a fat tube sticking out of the ground, just big enough for a man to crawl down into. There was a hatch on it then, and thick locks. The hatch was sound-proof. If you stood right beside it, you couldn’t hear a thing, but as soon as you opened the hatch you could smell the insides and hear the moans start to drift upwards into the world. A steel ladder led down. Mr Gregor says they all knew about it, everyone: all the adults. They’d all been down that ladder. All of them had seen it.
Don Whitman went down the ladder, too. He must have smelled the insides grow stronger and heard the moaning echo louder with every rung but he kept going. On the ground above, his father spoke to the mayor and they both felt proud. Don Whitman must have been more scared of coming up and disappointing them than of not going down to the limit. But when he reached the bottom, the very bottom, and put his feet to the hard concrete and saw it before his own eyes, something inside of him must have broken—
“They sugarcoat it and they make a child’s game of it because they’re too scared to remember the truth,” Mr Gregor told me. “They can’t forget it, but it’s a stain to them, so they cover it up and pretend that everything’s clean.”
Don Whitman saw the vastness of the interlocking chambers and, within them, the writhing, ecstatic, swollen no-people of the underground, human-like but non-human, cross-bred mammals draped in plaster-white skin pinned to numb faces, men, women and children, male and female, naked, scared, dirty, with humans—humans Don Whitman knew and recognized—among them, on them and under them, hitting them, squeezing them, making them hurt, making monstrous sounds with them, all under slowly rotating heat lamps, all open and together, one before another, and then someone, someone Don Whitman knew, must have put a hand on Don Whitman’s shoulder and Don Whitman would have asked, “But what now, what am I supposed to do?” and then, from somewhere deep within the chambers, from a place not even Don Whitman would ever see, a voice answered:
“Anything.”
Mr Gregor pulled away from me and I felt my body turn cold. Icy sweat crawled under my collar and below my thighs.
I’d been told Don Whitman had found the old pumping station and lured the police to it, that they’d called others—including Don Whitman’s father—to talk him out of any violence, but that he’d snapped and murdered them all without firing a single shot, with his bare hands, and dumped the bodies into the metal pipe sticking out of the ground, the one just wide enough for a man to fit through. Then he’d disappeared. It wasn’t until days later that Elizabeth Cartwell found the bodies and there was never any sign of Don Whitman after that. The manhunt failed. So the church bells rang, the school was torn down, the pipe was filled in and, ever since, the adults scare their children with the story of the high school boy who’d done a terrible, sinful thing and vanished into thin air.
“And why would she decide to go out there?” Mr Gregor asked—meaning Elizabeth Cartwell—his eyes dead-set through a window at the raining world outside. “It’s as transparent as a sheet of the Bible, every word of it. They all pretend to believe because they’ve all made it up together. But the police reports, the testimony, the news stories, the court records, the verdict: a sham, a falsification made truth because a thousand people and a judge repeat it, word-for-word, every night before bed.”
I tried to stand but couldn’t. My heart was pounding me back into the chair. I was thinking about my mother and father. I had only enough courage for one question, so I asked, “What happened to the no-people?”
Mr Gregor turned suddenly and laughed so fierce the rain lashed the windows even harder. He came toward me. He put a delicate hand on each of my shoulders. He bent forward until his lips were almost touching mine and, his eyes staring at me like one stares at the Devil, said:
“Buried in the concrete. Buried alive, buried dead—”
I pushed him away.
He stumbled backward without losing his balance.
I forced myself off the chair, praying that my legs would keep. My knees shook but held. In front of me, Mr Gregor rasped for air. A few long strands of his thin hair had fallen across his forehead. He was sweating.
“He was a coward, that little boy, Don Whitman. Without him, we wouldn’t need to live under the whip of elaborate lies designed by weaker people turned away and shamed by the power of the natural order of things. They trusted him, and he betrayed us all. The fools! The weakling! Imagine,” Mr Gregor hissed, “just imagine what we could have had, what we could have experienced down there, at the very bottom, in the chambers...”
His eyes spun and his chest heaved as he grew excited, but soon he lost his venom and his voice returned to normal.
Finally, he said without any nastiness, “You’re a wicked one, just like Don Whitman.”
And I ran out.
Danvers prodded me awake. I must have fallen asleep during the night because when I opened my eyes it was morning already. The sun was up and the flames gone, but the fire was still warm. Mr Gregor’s dead face still rested atop a pile of ashes. Cauley was asleep on the dirt across from us. I could tell Danvers hadn’t slept at all. He said he’d been to a farmhouse and called the police. We woke up Cauley and talked over what we’d say when they got here. We decided on something close to the truth: Mr Gregor had taken the three of us camping and, when he tried to do a bad thing, we put up a fight and knocked him into the flames. Cauley said it might be suspicious because of how easily Mr Gregor had burned, but Danvers said that some people were like that—they burned quick and whole—so we needn’t say a word about the gasoline. When the police came, they were professional and treated us fair, but when they took me aside to talk to me about the accident, every time I tried to tell them about the bad things Mr Gregor had done, they wouldn’t hear it, they just said it was a shame there’d been an accident and someone had died.
At home, I asked my parents whether Mr Gregor was a bad person for what he’d done to Danvers and others. My mother didn’t say anything. My father looked at me like he was looking at the Devil himself and said morality was not so simple and that people had differing points of view and that, in the end, much depended not on what you did, but who you did it to—like during the war, for example. There were some who deserved to be done-to and others whose privilege it was to do. Then he picked up his magazine and told me it was best not to think about such things at all.
I did keep thinking about them, and about Don Whitman, too. When I got to high school, I was too old to scare with monsters, but once in a while I’d hear one of the adults tell a kid he better do as he’d been told or Don Whitman would come back and get him. I wondered if maybe people scare others with monsters they’re most scared of themselves. I even thought about investigating: taking a pick-axe to the pumping station and cracking through concrete or investigating records of how much of it had been poured in there. But I figured the records could have been fixed and one person with a pick-axe wouldn’t get far before the police came and I didn’t trust them anymore. I also had homework to worry about and I started seeing a girl.
I’d almost forgotten about Don Whitman by the time my mother sent me out one evening with my dad’s rifle to hunt down a coyote she said had been attacking her hens. I took a bike, because it was quiet, and was roaming just beyond town when I saw something kick up dust in a field. I shot at it, missed and it scurried off. I pedaled after it until it seemingly disappeared into nowhere. I kept my eye firm on the spot I saw it last and when I got close enough, I saw there was a small hole in the ground there. I stuck the rifle in and the hole felt bigger on the inside, so I stomped all around till the hole caved and where there’d been a mouse-sized hole now there was an opening a grown man could fit through. It seemed deep, which made me curious, because there aren’t many caves around here, so I stuck my feet in but still couldn’t feel the bottom. I slid in a little further, and further still, and soon the opening was above my head and I was inside with my whole body.
It was dark but I could feel the ground sloping. When my eyes accustomed to the gloom, I saw enough to tell there was a tunnel leading into the depths and that it was big enough for me to crawl through. I didn’t have a light but I knew it was important to try the hole. Maybe there were no-people at the bottom. Mostly, though, I didn’t think—I expected: that every time I poked ahead with the rifle, I’d hit earth and the tunnel would be done.
That never happened. I descended for hours. The tunnel grew narrower and the slope sharpened. Fear tightened around my chest. I lost track of time. There wasn’t enough space to turn my body around and I’d been descending for so long it was foolish to backtrack. Surely, the tunnel led somewhere. It was not a natural tunnel, I told myself, it must lead somewhere. I should continue until I reached the end, turn around and return to the surface. The trick was to keep calm and keep moving forward.
And I was right. Several hours later the tunnel ended and I crawled out through a hollow in the wall of a huge grotto.
I stood, stretched my limbs and squinted through the dimness. I couldn’t see the other end of the grotto but the wall curved so I thought that maybe if I went along I might get to the other end. My plan of an immediate return to the surface was on hold. I had to see what lived here. Images of no-people raced through my head. I readied my rifle and proceeded, slowly at first. Where the tunnel had been packed dirt and clay, the walls and floor of the grotto were solid rock. There was moisture, too. It flowed down the walls and gathered in depressions on the floor.
Although at first the wall felt smooth, soon I began to feel a texture to it—like a washboard. The ceiling faded into view. The grotto was getting smaller. And the texture was becoming rougher, more violent. I was thinking about the texture and Mr Gregor’s burnt body when a sound sent me sprawling. My elbow banged against the rock and I nearly cried out. My heart was beating like it had beaten me into my chair in the classroom. The sound was real: faint but clear and echoing. It was the sound of continuous and rhythmic scratching.
I crawled forward, holding the rifle in front. The scratching grew louder. I thought about calling out, but suddenly felt foolish to believe in no-people or anything of that kind. It seemed more sensible to believe in large rodents or coyotes with sharp teeth. I could have turned back, but the only thing more frightening than a monster in front is a monster behind, so I pulled myself on.
In fact, I was crawling up a small hill and, when I had reached the top, I looked down and there it was:
His was a human body. Though hunched, he stood on human legs and scratched with human hands. His movements were also clearly a man’s movements. There was nothing feminine about them. His half-translucent skin was grey, almost white, and taut; and if he had any hair, I didn’t see it. His naked body was completely smooth. I looked at him for a long time with dread and disgust. His arms didn’t stop moving. Whatever they were scratching, they kept scratching. Even when he turned and his head looked at me, even as I—stunned—frozen in terror, recoiled against the wall, still his arms kept moving and his hands clawing.
For a few seconds, I thought he’d seen me, that I was done for.
I gripped the rifle tight.
But as I focused on his face, I realized he hadn’t seen me at all. He couldn’t see me. His face, so much like a colourless swollen skull, was punctuated by two black and empty eye sockets.
He turned back to face the wall he was scratching. I turned my face, too. The texture on the wall was his. The deeper the grooves, the newer the work. I put down the rifle and put my hand on the wall, letting my fingers trace the contours of the texture. It wasn’t simple lines. The scratching wasn’t meaningless. These were two words repeated over and over, sometimes on top of each other, sometimes backwards, sometimes small, sometimes each letter as big as a person, and they were all around this vast underground lair, everywhere you looked—
Two words: Don Whitman.
He’d made this grotto. I felt feverish. The sheer greatness, the determination needed to scratch out such a place with one’s bare hands. Or perhaps the insanity—the punishment. If I hadn’t been sitting, a wave of empathy would have knocked me to the wet, rocky floor. I picked up the rifle. I could put Don Whitman out of his misery. I lifted the rifle and pointed it at the distant figure writing his name pointlessly into the wall. With one pull of the trigger, I could show him infinite mercy. I steadied myself. I said a prayer.
Don Whitman stopped scratching and wailed.
I bit down on my teeth.
I hadn’t fired yet.
He grabbed his head and fell to his knees. The high-pitched sound coming from his throat was unbearable. I felt like my mind was being ripped apart. I dropped the rifle and covered my ears. Again, Don Whitman turned. This time with his entire body. He crawled a few steps toward me—still wailing—before stopping and falling silent. He raised his head. Where before had been just eye sockets now there were eyes. White, with irises. Somehow, they’d grown.
He got to his feet and I was sure that he could see me now. He was staring at me. I called his name:
“Don Whitman!”
He didn’t react. Thoughts raced through my mind: what should I do once he comes toward me? Should I defend myself or should I embrace him?
But he didn’t step forward.
He took one step back and lifted his long fingers to his face. His nails, I now saw, were thick and curved as a bird’s talons. He moved them softly from his forehead, down his cheeks and up to his eyes, into which, without warning, he pressed them so painfully that I felt my own eyes burn. When he brought his fingers back out, in each hand he held a mashed and bleeding eyeball. These he put almost greedily into his mouth, one after the other, then chewed, and swallowed.
Having nourished his body, he returned to the wall and began scratching again.
As I watched the movements of his arms, able to follow the pattern of the letters they were carving, I no longer felt like killing him. If he wanted to die, he could die: he could forego water, he could refuse to eat. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to keep scratching his name into the walls of this grotto: Don Whitman, Don Whitman, Don Whitman…
I watched him for a long time before I realized that I would have to get to the surface soon. People would begin to worry. They might start looking for me. And as much as I needed to know the logic behind Don Whitman’s grotto, I also needed food. I couldn’t live down here. I couldn’t eat my own eyes and expect them to grow back. Eventually, I would either have to return to the world above or die.
I put my hand on the grotto wall and began to mentally retrace my steps. A return would not be difficult. All I would need to do was follow—
That’s when I knew.
The geography of it hit me.
The hole I’d entered was on the outskirts of town. The tunnel sloped toward the town. That meant this grotto was below the town. The town hall, the bank, the police station, the school—all of it was lying unknowingly on top of a giant expanding cavity. One day, this cavity would be too large, the town would be too heavy, and everything would collapse into a deep and permanent handmade abyss. Don Whitman would bury the town just as the town had buried the no-people. Everything would be destroyed. Everyone would die. That was Don Whitman’s genius. That was his life’s work.
I picked up the rifle and faced Don Whitman for the final time.
He must have known that I was there. He’d heard me and had probably seen me before he pulled out his eyes, yet he just continued to scratch. Faced with death, he kept working.
As I stood there, I had no doubt that, left in peace, Don Whitman would finish his project. His will was too powerful. The result would be catastrophic. It was under these assumptions that I made the most moral and important decision of my life:
I walked away.

What was I thinking? Opening up like that again. Being playful and forward. I was in a good mood I guess. I thought to myself fuck it life’s too short I’m not going to hold back anymore. Why do I hold back anyway? So I start sending all them texts. Flirtatious and funny. Silly really not really funny. I waited for you to reply. Nothing. Then sent more. You’re done work now. Send more. Nothing. Maybe you’re driving now. Nothing. You must be home now. Nothing. Maybe you stayed late for work. Nothing. It’s Friday though. Nothing.
Somewhere along these silly texts with no replies. The courage turns into shame. It physically hurts as I feel the tears build up. I’m in my bed curled up. Why do I do this? Tears rolling down now.

I was hit yesterday with my partner (46m) leaving me (39f) out of the blue. I have 3 children (not his), and one adopted child. Financially I'm secure, but that is fragile if I were to ever lose my job. I have a union position and my ra does not affect the trade I work in (I'm an office clerk).
I've been in a bad flare and I'm fighting quite severely with my employer to work from home on the days I'm hit with fatigue and aches. I have the capability as I'm already on a hybrid work model, I'm just asking for flexibility.
Personally, my entire family (parents, sister and grandparents) are deceased. So no family support system. My partner leaving is feeling like another huge loss. I'm in emotional pain like I couldn't imagine over it.
I've been hit with fatigue AGAIN. I guess I'm wondering, what comes first? The stress or fatigue? And how the heck do you cope?
I need to get a healthier life plan. Mental and physical

Hi. My cat and I currently live apart. Long story short we were both living in my parent's house that I had been renting off of them for the past four years. My parents live overseas and we decided that whilst I was studying that this was a fine arrangement, cheaper than most of the housing options in the city I live in and close to uni. This also meant I could look after Leo, the cat. Leo has lived in this house his entire life, we got him when he was a kitten and he is currently 12 and a half years old.
Due to my life becoming rather stagnant living in my childhood home and wanting to get out from underneath the thumb of my parents I decided to move out at the start of this year and into a flat with a few friends. Due to the cat having only ever had one home I decided it would be easier for him to remain in my parent's house with the remaining flat mates (who are also trusted friends of mine) so he wouldn't have to deal with the stress of moving. This renewed sense of independence has been great for me - however since I am no longer living in the house my parents have elected to sell the place come October - meaning the cat will have to find a new place to live after all.
My current living situation is not suitable for a cat to move into, so that leaves me with a few options. First I can find a new flat suitable for an active cat of his age and I can try to make it work for as long as possible. This mightn't be suitable as there is little guarantee that I won't just have to move house again meaning Leo would have to be uprooted multiple times at the end of his life, which wouldn't exactly be fair on his mental health. Second, a good friend of mine (who loves Leo very much) has offered to adopt him, but their living situation too is very up in the air and I imagine there'd be more than one move involved before he got settled into a permanent place.
That leaves adopting him out to a stranger, someone who hopefully has the time and resources to look after him and make sure the next few years of his life are comfortable. Unfortunately he is a very emotionally needy cat that requires a lot of attention so it would have to be someone dedicated to the task and settled into their lives enough that they wouldn't find themselves needing to pass him on again to someone else. If any of you have ever had to give away or perhaps adopt a cat in a similar situation, how did this process go for you and what did you do to make this process work as best it could for the cat in question? I suspect that Leo will find adoption rather difficult, but given my living and financial situation I'm unsure if I am the one best-equipped to deal with him.
Thanks for your time and I hope your cat's are all happy and healthy!

Hello!
My partner & I are doing a big cull of game stuff and he's decided to finally let go of a bunch of Android: Netrunner stuff. When I asked him why a lot of things were still in packaging/brand new, he said that he loved the collectibility aspect of it as well as the fact that he loves cyberpunk aesthetic... but he just never got into the game itself.
Everything is from a smoke-free/cat-free home but dog-friendly household. I don't know what value these have and some of them I can't find anything about regarding price (especially for the double-sided promo cards) so I've just left them blank until I can find out more info. Everything with a price includes shipping.
Google Doc with all items available! Imgur links can be found in said Google Docs.
Please let me know if my pricing is shit and I can adjust accordingly lol. I mostly used eBay as a guide.

It’s with a heavy heart that we had to schedule a home euthanasia next week for our precious pupper.
He has pleural cancer too advanced to be treated, and is in too much pain (hasn’t eaten in days, has trouble breathing, can’t walk for more than a few meters) to continue.
We find great solace in the fact that we were able to give him lots of love and a great life from me moment we adopted him. And much gratitude for all the love he’s given us in return. But still, it fucking sucks, man.
Any advice on how offer our dog the best possible last few days? And how to best prepare the home euthanasia? Our kids are 2 and 4, any advice on that department also appreciated.
Hug your furry friends for me. Please and thank you.

For the lawyers of reddit asking this question because I am confused.
Reading online I see that in SF you have to give 60 day notice of a person if they are on a month to month lease.
However if you buy the home do you have to use an Ellis act?

I'm in the middle of looking for scholarships but the site (scholarship universe) is asking me what school I plan on attending. I cant just put in the school name I need to select a state, county and city. What do i fill in for this? i tried looking up wher WGU is bases and got Utah but i tried filling in the info with that and no schools came up

Ok, I'm going to try to keep this complex situation short. But I met a guy through an ad for a sugarbaby. I was pretty broke, working all the time, really depressed, very overweight, hadn't had any physical/sexual contact in more time than I want to admit, and my self confidence was at a zero. I saw an ad on CraigsList Erotic section that said an older, professional, in-shape/clean white guy was looking for a sugarbaby, basically for oral sex only in exchange for money. I'm not proud of this, but the idea of having some kind of sexual contact/relationship with a man was appealing and exciting. And I've always been told I give great BJ's and pride myself on that , plus I need some extra money and this wouldn't take much of my time, so I thought, why not? And I sent an email with some pics, and he responded later that night. And he asked me some (sexual) questions about my 'skills' and I said why don't I just show you? So he invited me to his house and I drove there that night. His place which was a really big mansion house right outside Washington DC, which is a very expensive place to live, so I was super impressed right away like, ok, this guy is rich.
Well turns out I recognize him from where I work. He is a regular at the restaurant and sort of has a reputation as someone connected to gangsters, gamblers, some powerful people.
He's nice at first and welcoming, but really fidgety and talking a lot, I figure out he's high. And that he has multiple girls that he pays to give him head while he's high , and that he does this a few times a month. He just strips to his boxers within like 2 mins of me walking in, and I am giving him head right away. So I give him head a few times that night and he's really critical of how i'm doing things and telling me what to do/not do the whole time, and I never really got into it or got my rhythm, and he seemed frustrated. He tells me I have to practice and improve and he's going to teach me and then I'll be ready to make money and be one of his regular girls .
His "#1 girl" was Connie. He showed me video of her giving him head. He'd always video record on his laptop and phone each time and showed me that he had a PornHub page with Connie and he also had like, probably 100 folders with girls names on them with videos of them all giving him head, and he showed me and said look, not to worry, I have all these girls and only Connie's videos are on PornHub, because only Connie agreed and filled the paperwork to put the videos up. So he doesn't put other girls videos up. And I didn't feel good about it and didn't trust him but I just said ok, and went along with it because I can never stand up for myself. So he had videos of me from day 1.
This goes on a couple months where I am basically this guy's Uber-BlowJobs and he's only given me like $60 total. I start to get tired of him and also he's getting more bossy/mean/misogynistic , and also rougher with me. He says it's his "kink" to say derogatory stuff to girls and asks me if that's ok, and that's it not personal, and it is just his weird kink and it really helps him get off. And I go along with it and say it's ok because I'm a pushover. And so he's calling me fat and ugly and a stupid whore and bossing me how to give him head, and he'd push my head down or be rough with me to the point i'd be crying sometimes and he'd say something mean about me crying and keep going.
I had had a really hard day at work and my mom was sick in the hospital, and I didnt want to go over to his place so I just stopped returning his texts. I was done with him and I wasn't getting more money or anything, he was just using me and Connie was always going to be #1 and I was always going to be trash that he spit on and called fat.
He texted me a lot without any response from me, he tried offering more money, more promises, he would turn into a super nice compassionate person when he was trying to convince me to do something, all to get me into his bedroom where everything would change, but it was all "pretend" and dont "take it personal".
Well then he sent me a text saying that "hackers" had hacked into his computer and they had access to all the videos. And they were threatening him/blackmailing him. And he said not to worry that he was taking care of it. I was freaking out because my family/dad/brothers/mom would absolutely kill me if they heard that there were porno movies of me getting degraded on the internet. My life and reputation in my family's eyes would be ruined.
He texts me again and says that the hackers are making demands, they want us , me and him, to make more porno videos where I give him head, and they want specific sexual things to happen in the videos. And he also showed screenshots of my facebook friends, all my family and friends, and said the "hackers" had these names and they were going to send videos of me to all my family and friends if I didn't comply with their demands.
So he suggested that we just make the videos and appease the hackers so they dont release the videos to my family/friends. Now I see obviously it was him lying, but at the time I was so scared and freaking out that I wasn't really sure. So I went over to his house again and that's when he told me he was just kidding about the hackers and he just wanted to see me again. I was so pissed but he gave me some money up front this time to give him head and then I was right back in his room, giving him head and crying and I hated myself for being there and pleasuring him, and was so disgusted with myself that I coudlnt just get up and walk out. And the whole time he's calling me a dumb bitch and saying how he knew he'd get me back in there sucking his dick, and all these disgusting things to me.
Then when I didn't want to do the more hardcore stuff that the "hackers" demanded, that's when he said that the "hackers" might still release the videos if I don't do these things and make the videos how they want. And I said "I thought you said you were kidding?" and he said "No, they were real, I jus tdidnt want you to worry about it. But if we dont make these videos they'll release the videos."
So I had to do let him do things to me and hated it the whole time, was visibly crying and didn't want to be there, and he was enjoying himself even more it seemed. And after a few hours of abuse I left and felt so empty and weak and pathetic. I cried the whole way home. But at least I did one smart thing, I just blocked his number and hoped he wouldnt release the videos. And he didn't (hasn't) yet anyway, but they're still out there. And I still see him sometimes at work and he acts friendly and says we need to hang out again, he misses me, etc. Anyway just wanted to get this off my chest.