Bay county sheriff's department phone number

Milwaukee's Bicycle Community

2016.05.12 17:27 chillaxin4life Milwaukee's Bicycle Community

Welcome to Milwaukee's bike subreddit! From the urban commuters to the beach cruisers, everyone and their bike is welcome here for newbie advice, pro events, and everything in between! Bike maps and bike shops are listed in the wiki.

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2013.03.02 23:03 prophetjohn Austin lost and found pets

A subreddit for the lost and found pets in Austin, TX

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2023.06.04 09:24 david8840 Best US bank which is friendly for digital nomads?

Recently my debit card was frozen due to the bank suspecting there may be unauthorised activity on it. So I logged in to online banking and carefully reviewed each transaction in the last several days. They were all fine so I proceeded to call the bank and inform them that they can go ahead and unblock the card since I recognize all of the transactions.
To authenticate me as the real account holder they asked for my account number, social security number, and the 3 digit code on the back of my debit card. No problem, I gave them all of this info. But that wasn't good enough, they also demanded to send me a one-time authorization code to my phone. This had been an issue for me in the past since they only accept US based non-VOIP phone numbers. But this time I was prepared. Three weeks prior I had purchased a US prepaid SIM card, activated it, and added it to my bank account as the primary number.
They asked me to confirm the phone number on the account for them to send the code to. So I read them the phone number. But they then said that they can't use that phone number!
They then offered to send the code by email instead. I read them my email address which is the primary email address on the account for over 5 years, and the very same email address which they sent the notice to about the card being blocked. But no, they said they can't use that email address and they can only use the old email address I used when opening the account over a decade ago. I told them that the old email no longer exists. They then informed me that they have no more options for verifying my identity and I must come into a branch with 2 forms of ID.
I'm not going to pay $1,300 and fly 14,000 kilometers round trip to go to a branch of the bank. I'm done. This was the last straw. I'm switching banks.
I already have a European based bank account which I use for everyday expenses. But I have several expenses each month which require ACH payments and therefore only can be paid from a US account.
Which is the best bank for digital nomads and expats? I am currently considering Charles Schwab and SDFCU (State Department Federal Credit Union) which apparently has some partnership with American Citizens Abroad and doesn't require a US address to open an account. Is there a better option?

submitted by david8840 to digitalnomad [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 08:41 WTXRed June B.A.G.E.L.

submitted by WTXRed to Lubbock [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 06:37 imawestie Drucker - a walkthrough of Update 33 - Yeah, spoilers.

I don't regard myself as an expert at this game but I play almost exclusively on Lethal now.
I rarely pull any crew from my Legacy Pool, but I do "lean" on the Legacy Pool to overcome problems (call it spamming or savescumming or cheesing I don't mind) with getting from "launch" to having the Infirmary built - as you will see it is not in my gameplan to do that "super early" and I have typically eliminated 5+ hearts before establishing the Infirmary.
I don't use things like the firework gun thing and generally I avoid calling in the Impaler.
Below is Drucker County. This is at "pre boon mission" - and I will probably restart the map rather than do the Boon mission, as I have already done them all and they are boring.
For reference at the end of the game, I have survived 12 days: less than 2 weeks. That means killing 2 or 3 hearts a day. I'm pretty sure this time around I had no community deaths, although I did exile a couple of people and I think one might have been plague effected after getting a heart to a phase.
Here is my community having just killed the last heart. Nobody has maxxed all 5 stats yet, and only 2 have maxxed anything at all - Vasquez was recruited with Automechanic already maxxed... I have finished the game occupying Wallys Bar and Grill (the cafe type place in Santa Maya, the centre of the map). None of my characters are Sheriffs - so I have not been able to "finish" the Lounge.
https://preview.redd.it/hjvz1vywhw3b1.png?width=1920&format=png&auto=webp&s=d59849abd43974f355e47c58267c9d1210876d51
For this walkthrough I used Builder and Sheriff boons. I find Trader and Warlord dump a bunch of stuff on you at the start which simply amps the starting difficulty without particularly providing a long-term benefit.
https://preview.redd.it/14fbilv8gw3b1.png?width=1611&format=png&auto=webp&s=b2d385d3482ceab405dd4578c4c444852aa90c7b
The image below shows what I do before I claim the Vogel House. Note I do make a fair bit of use of...

A known location for a jerry can
Using my whole team as pack mules
Finding cars to load Rucksacks into, BEFORE claiming the base.

The new update has decreased item 3 quite a bit: I have learned through trial and error that waking a heart before claiming the starter house is a Bad Idea (tm).
Pre claiming Vogel
The diagram below shows the circuit I do before I claim Vogel House. But first, Ferals: I have found that with Update 33 I am running into more ferals than previously. My answer to this is in three parts:

Honestly if it happens as soon as you start, go straight in. They seem easier to kill with 3 newbies who are not tired even if all they have is pipes.
At the gun shop give your two partners whatever gun you can find, ideally a shotgun stuns a feral and that can solve a lot of problems when there are 3 of you.
At least one of the characters having a Blunt heavy weapon.

When there are 3 of you these 3 tactics seem to get the job done.
Also, prior to update 33 - the hearts were the hearts. I am now finding I need to be a lot more timid to avoid things like screamers or killing plague zombies waking hearts up during this part of the game.

https://preview.redd.it/bfv5tby9jw3b1.png?width=1138&format=png&auto=webp&s=fb711387971f17271996f6bc0e02f7651c0b1469
A: the starting makeshift camp where you can access your Command Centre, and drop off items which fit in a backpack.
1: where the car is at the start of the game. 2: by this point you should have found a petrol can. 3: a campsite where you can usually find something useful. 4: generally you will find one or two ranged weapons and maybe a workshop mod in the gun store in town. After clearing these out you will go to the makeshift camp. From the makeshift camp you return to your car. Note: the earlier you find a car then your journey might not change much but your approach to rucksacks WILL change. You want to have "all cars full" plus two of your 3 beginner characters carrying a ruck. In your car travel to 5. Here you can pick up fuel - both a jerry and a ruck - and materials. You should also be able to find one or two plague locations.
Don't hang around!
Travel to 6. Between 5 and 6 you should be looking for hearts while avoiding doing anything that will wake them up.
If you find a car, drop off the rucks you're carrying.
Go via 7 - if there is a chance, loot one or both the food locations here.
Back to the makeshift camp. Empty all backpacks. Reallocate rucks.
Head off to 8. I like to secure but not loot on the way north to 9.
9 is a checkpoint. More weapons and an ammo ruck. You might prefer to leave the ammo ruck behind because you will return to 8 where you will probably find more rucks than you can carry.
This is when I finally claim Vogul House.
Then the Materials World mission starts. Ideally by now I have found 1x heavy weapon - even a driveshaft club is good enough.
https://preview.redd.it/2o3qy490hx3b1.png?width=1060&format=png&auto=webp&s=16a8b988bd33fe43fe7a66815d1ba126592ad537
Generalyl there will be about 5 hearts in this south-west portion of the map. You need to be a bit cautious to work out which one/s you can do without waking any of the others. With each of your 3 characters - the goal is, pick up anything that isn't a material ruck from the previous step, while killing 2 hearts per character. Chances are if you are as bad as me you will get at least 50% plagued "by accident" - if this happens, head home. As soon as you can - call in an enclave. You need them for fuel, toolboxes, maybe stim items, maybe a weapon.
Don't hang around and loot if it seems dangerous: go back with the healthy character, and do it without taking risks, to manage fatigue.
By now you can think about...
the rest of the plague hearts on the west,
https://preview.redd.it/snxf3vgthx3b1.png?width=1138&format=png&auto=webp&s=6a2312787fb21f5855390cd06a09c32ce7d8dd57
you probably have 2x heros,
and you should be thinking about claiming the cell-phone tower near Vogul House to manage crowds / prevent accidental waking of plague hearts.
Those hearts on the South of the map are usually close enough to trigger a chain reaction of wakening. What you really don't want is to accidentally trigger the ones clustered in the centre of the map near the hospital up there.
From there I went and did the isolated heart in the medical centre in the middle of nowhere.
I actively used the (new to release 33) Disruptor feature of the cell-tower, as well as, relocating which cell tower I claimed all over the map, to use the (new to release 33) "land mine" feature.
I moved my other outposts periodically as well, for the same reason, and to simplify character change-over while taking out hearts.
All this was done without accessing anyone from the legacy pool, or any military recruits.
I did recruit from enclaves to disband the ones with the sucky benefits.
I did recruit from the mechanics enclave, and wound up with a champion auto-mechanic (plus someone to exile).

submitted by imawestie to StateofDecay2 [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 05:59 Prestigious_Bed2052 Do I have to work in a shop to obtain my license?

submitted by Prestigious_Bed2052 to TattooBeginners [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 05:46 ProposalEcstatic3944 Sweet Dog Needs new Home Grand Bay, Alabama

Original post below from rescuer Regina.
Hi, this is a very hard post for me to write because I have been fostering this sweet girl for some time now. I can't even remember for certain because my children and I have been through so much the past ten years. The exact date, even year, is hard to recall. But it was around 2018 or 19 that I discovered this beautiful lady being abused and neglected by her owner in my neighborhood. She was chained to a small deck with no shelter, and I never saw any food or water as I walked by daily. Her owner even tried to run over her with a car, stating she just didn't like her as the reason. She was so skinny and malnourished, and she still has a scar on her throat where she broke free of the cable tied around it. After my very nasty separation from my kids' father, and the death of my own, I moved in with my mother. She knew I was rescuing dogs, and she forbid me to bring any to her home. Rescuing was something I couldn't just turn off though. My heart went out to the masses of neglected, abandoned and abused dogs out there. I never registered formally with a rescue organization because, as previously stated, my mother had forbidden it. But they seemed to find me. Wandering into my yard, one even flew out of a truck that flipped three times on the interstate while I was shopping for campers, which I hoped to make a temporary home of for my kids and me. My home was uninhabitable for us. But when there was no other choice, rescue intakes closed, and a dog either had to continue being abused and neglected or face euthanasia, it worked as a safe place for them. My neighbor allowed me to run an extension cord for heat or air-conditioning, and I went over three times a day to feed and walk them. One day, as I was over tending to another foster, this girl came over for probably the fourth time, bleeding, again, from her neck, and overjoyed to see me as I always gave her pets and treats. Something she never got from her owners. I kept hearing my mother's voice saying "do not bring anymore dogs here!" In the back of my mind. But I couldn't continue to ignore that she needed me. The county wouldn't even come out to do a well check bc she had no history of aggression. I managed to talk the owners into surrendering her to me, as I had spoken with a lady that said she would happily take her if I was able to get her. However, once I met her, I found that she also planned to keep her chained, and was unable to handle her anyway. She was disabled and could barely walk. This girl, having so much boundless energy, would surely be too much for her to handle. She also could barely afford to feed herself, let alone provide vetting and food for this bottomless "pit".😅 So sadly I had to decline this adoption. She stayed at my old home for about a year, until I insisted she had to come home with me to my mom's. She wasn't happy, but she knew county was out of the question as they are still a kill shelter. I have attempted to adopt her out a few times since then. One inquiry turned out to be from a dog fighter. They thought I didn't know. Anyway, Big NO! I drove about four hours away to meet a lady who, unfortunately was hoarding pitties in a small hotel room, and was incidentally giving birth to a new baby when I arrived. My instincts told me this was a very risky situation. Another interested party had a trial for one night. I told this person this dog must have a fence or be leash walked, as she is reactive to small animals. He agreed, but waited til I left to try his luck with letting her free roam in a highly populated area in the city. So I went to get her back, knowing this couldn't possibly end well. It seemed she might end up staying, as I was absolutely mentally exhausted from all the failed attempts, and from being cursed at by several others who failed to pass adoption criteria, which included vet checks, character references, evidence of ability to provide adequate care and safe environment. I have taken some time off from trying to adopt her out. Keeping her just seemed easier and safer than continuing to try to adopt her out. It seemed so unlikely that I would find a suitable adopter anyway, with so many desperately needing help. But recently, my health has gone downhill. I have been managing, but having been diagnosed with spinal stenosis and pancreatitis, along with being a full time mom, and caring for my mother, whose health has also declined drastically, it's becoming increasingly more difficult for me to keep up with the demands of caring for her. I've been tired before, and experienced burn out. But this is something entirely different. For the first time, I'm seriously afraid that the day is coming soon that I might not be able to tend to her. I am having more and more trouble walking. And she has so much energy, she desperately needs to be walked and played daily with to keep anxiety at bay. She is such a sweet girl, and has responded well to training. She is in good health, and the thought of her ever going to the county kill shelter terrifies me. But I fear that one day in the near future, I may have no other choice. As I said, I am managing. It is painful many days, and some days I am literally going on autopilot with no regard to my condition. I will continue to do my best to care for her as long as she needs me. But have decided that, in order to avoid the possibility of having to send her to a shelter where she will most likely be euthanized, I need to put forth my best effort to find her a loving home. She is spayed, and as mentioned previously, has had some training. She responds well to cues when I am able to consistently work with her. She loves to snuggle and give hugs. She even likes to dance with her paws around my waist. She loves kids too, but should be supervised as she does get excited and jump up for a hug. She loves to do zoomies too, and at times will forget herself and crash into her person. Very manageable, tho, by a strong healthy person. Regular walks and engagement help with this anxiety induced burst of energy tremendously. She has been sleeping in an air conditioned kennel, with lots of room in a large fenced yard to roam. But what she truly wants is daily walks and playing, and to be inside snuggling with her person. If you have experience with pit babies such as this, have no small animals, and can and will give this sweet girl the life she deserves, please message me. Please be prepared to offer vet references so that I can ensure that she is going to a responsible person. I am ok with self care such as holistic care and self administered parvo vaccines. But I would need to contact your vet to know that she will be vaccinated for rabies and that you are a responsible and loving pet owner. Also, you and your family must be able to keep her environment calm and without chaos as it is a trigger for her anxiety. I know it sounds silly, but I would also need to know that she chooses to go/stay with you to ensure that she will be happy with this transition. Preferably someone nearby, or I am willing to travel and spend a couple days letting you get to know her if you are willing to allow me to see where she will live. I don't care if you're not a great housekeeper. Or if you live in an apartment so long as you have time to walk her. I will not let her go somewhere she is not happy tho, or at risk of encountering and harming another pet. My ultimate goal is to get better. To possibly have surgery for my back, followed by physical therapy to regain strength, to control pancreatic flare ups through diet modification. And assuming I am able to make a significant recovery, I hope to get even more serious about rescue and go on to save many more lives through training and education. I am actually hoping to be able to attend school for training, become certified at a behavioral specialist, and, at some point, provide training to shelter dogs to increase adoptability, as well as to aide in their success post adoption. For those if you who don't know, one of the number one reasons dogs are returned to shelters after adoption is lack of training. And for those of you who do know, you are well aware of how essential training truly is, primarily for large, strong dogs such as pitties, and what a game changer it can be for them. Thank you for reading. Again, I am located in Mobile, Alabama. I promise, if you are qualified and looking, this could be your next best friend! I have never know a dog to more loyal or loving!
Point of contact
https://www.facebook.com/regina.dunklin.50?mibextid=LQQJ4d

submitted by ProposalEcstatic3944 to National_Pet_Adoption [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 05:05 ScholarNeonBot Somebody please help. My phone got stolen and I am trying to block it through the CEIR portal. The number that was in use got stolen with the phone and the portal is asking this. What to do now?

Somebody please help. My phone got stolen and I am trying to block it through the CEIR portal. The number that was in use got stolen with the phone and the portal is asking this. What to do now?

submitted by ScholarNeonBot to IndiaOpen [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 05:05 A_Stony_Shore Murkintok Municipal Airport

I was going to be late. I was on the verge of panic, uncertain of where I’d come from or why I was late, but I was going to be late.
Today was supposed to be different. I was sure of it. The start of something new. My only opportunity to move out of my little dead-end corner of Appalachia rested on me arriving for the night shift on time.
I sped over the rolling road in a panic. Dense old growth rushed past in a blur periodically broken by small plots of pasture, apple orchards and fields that a few months earlier were brimming with corn. Shadows danced out there in the dim moonlight and the closer I got to the airfield the more separated from the small outlying town I felt.
My steering wheel was cold and it vibrated wildly in rhythm with my heart. I tapped it impatiently.
The rusted hulk nearly left the road each time I crested a hillock. My suspension groaned under the salt spurred corrosion and strain.
I can get a new car if this all works out.
I nearly missed my turn. Fishtailing, I plodded off the main road onto an aptly named “Airport Drive”.
I came to a halt at the designated stall and turned the car off.
A minute to spare.
I looked out into the darkness beyond the parking area and a tingle ran down my spine. The shadows that were once dancing as I passed were still now and the air oppressive. My hands were tingled with cold yet brimmed with sweat. Before opening the door, I took a few deep breaths, flattened my hair, and made sure my uniform was sharp. Looking into my image in the rearview mirror I cleared my throat.
“Alright buddy. You’ve been drifting from service job to service job in this dying county for half a decade. Somethings got to change. *You’ve* got to change. You’ve got a daughter now, you can’t be out there chasing bar weasels and getting drunk every other night. It’s time to up your game. You aren’t the little boy who had to stand in the corner with his nose to the wall every time you messed up anymore. Now your choices matter for her life too. The pay and experience here are going to help springboard you off into something bigger and brighter. You can do this.”
My car door shrieked open causing the chirping and croaks in the forest around the airfield to briefly fall silent. The crunch of gravel followed me across the unpaved, unmarked parking spaces poorly illuminated by one lonely floodlight. I made my way to the entrance of the terminal and pulled open the door to the chime of an old brass bell.
“Oh, hey buddy.” He glanced at the clock. “You’re early.” Stepping into the room I saw Gus casually looking up from his crossword, bifocals resting on his fat, bright red nose.
“Yessir. I figured maybe if things weren’t too busy we could get started early. I’ve heard night shift can be a lot to take in.”
His brows furrowed and his mouth hung half open.
“Well….alright, I guess. But we’ll be easing you in. Just the basics for the first week.” He held up a finger, “Will and I are gonna rotate each night, until we know you’ve got the hang of it, then we’ll start giving you more responsibilities – if you’re up to it.”
We spent several hours on the night shift responsibilities for the airfield. Many of the duties weren’t too complicated. When we went to the control room at the base of the single tower overlooking the tarmac we flipped several very clearly marked switches turning the runway lights on and off. Then we walked over the several generators tucked away behind baggage claim to check their fuel and oil levels.
“Checking these emergency generators things each night seems a bit overkill, no?” I asked.
Gus smiled. “These aren’t for emergencies. This is our power. Yea, this past winter much to our surprise we found that some of the power poles came down. Some heavy rainfall right before the first snow turned the ground to soup and the just sort of…fell over.”
“They really shouldn’t do that.”
Gus shrugged. “Yea well, corners get cut all over the place. Damn things still aren’t back up, so here we are.”
As we walked back over to the portables for baggage claim and arrivals/departures. Another tingle ran down my spine. Instinctively I looked around and caught sight of something out in the dark. It was the feeling of being watched. I tried to focus my eyes on the darkness. I saw some gently pulsating shadows near the trees but nothing more.
The chirping and croaks were nowhere to be heard and I shivered.
“Come on kid, I ain’t got all night.”
I came to and trotted over to where Gus had stopped. “Sorry, I thought I saw…something.”
We continued onward, restocking the restrooms, went over baggage tagging and safe lifting procedures and the other mundane parts of preparing for the night’s departures and arrivals.
Finally, we wrapped up my first training session with perimeter checks.
Gus’ labored breathing alternated with his footfalls on the blacktop as we walked down the small runway.
“Every 3 hours you are going to be making this walk.” He gestured around. “You start over at the ATC tower and head out to the tree line, then follow that parallel to the tarmac until you pass the last of the landing lights and keep going until you hit the transmission shack. Don’t get distracted and go off following the transmission lines. Had a guy do that a year or two ago and it took us a week only to find his ass mumbling by the side of the road talking about the linemen – boy wasn’t right after that.”
He paused thoughtfully for a moment.
“Anywho, after the transmission shack you hook right following the shore of the river until you hit Eddie’s orchard then head back. You’ll pass his cornfield and follow that until you see the two terminal portables, then you check the parking lot and come back to the office to enter it all in the logbook. Just need to make sure there ain’t nothing out there that shouldn’t be.”
We continued walking in silence for a few minutes. “So what do I do if I find something? Are we looking for the Wilson boys or something? I thought they stopped causing trouble after you…”
“Well, you need to enter it in the logbook for one.”
“Bears? What do I do if it’s bears?”
He stopped. “Bears? What the hell are you rambling about? We don’t get bears this time of year. Oh, and be sure to bring your bear spray.”
“Even though there aren’t bears?”
“It’s under the counter next to the logbook.” He paused again. “If you see any wildlife, just take the truck out there and honk at it to get it away from the runway. Be sure to use your high beams, too. Very important. You see any people you get back to the office and call the Sheriff – don’t need to be a hero. You hear anything weird out there in the dark you leave it be, if it’s off property it’s not our problem.”
“Any questions?” he asked as we got back to the office.
A few.
“No, I’m good.”
“Great, Will’s in the control tower if anything comes up. No flights scheduled for tonight so it should be awfully quiet. Here’s the keys to the castle. Adios.”
He placed a massive key ring into my hand that had more keys than there were doors on the property and took off.
I sat down behind the counter, looked at the broken clock and sighed.
I was able to knock out the task list before midnight and had 6 more hours to kill before the end of my shift. There was no cell service, because of course not. I tried reading an old Town and Country magazine I found stashed under the desk and found most of the pages had been covered in circles and doodles by someone who must have been just as bored as I was on some unknown shift prior.
I decided to sweep up and clean the counters to keep myself busy and after I was done it was only 12:15.
I groaned.
The silence was oppressive. Outside the window was an empty, dark expanse with a slowly strobing series of red lights marking the flight line. I felt safer indoors but even then as I stared into the dark something felt off. If I turned my gaze from the windows I could see something out of the corner of my eyes. Branches swaying in the breeze.
There was no wind here.
12:34.
I pulled the logbook out from its shelf and placed it on the counter entering my start time, grabbed my flashlight and headed out into the frigid night.
The occasional whistling of the wind punctuated my footfalls. I passed red light posts every few yards on a never-ending runway. I kept walking for what felt like half an hour, losing count of the lights I’d passed. I turned back out of curiosity and still saw the slowly receding light of the air traffic control tower confirming that yes, all was well. After the runway ended I continued into the dark until coming to the boarded up transmission shack and the power lines that ran off into the forest.
I came the edge of the marsh and began following it. Minutes passed. I turned to get my bearings on the tower and found it’s lonely beacon, but I also noticed a void in the dark – not a blackness per-se, black is a color. No, it was a complete lack of color, a hole in existence out past the power lines. It was getting larger.
I picked up my pace.
I got to the orchard and looked back finding that the lights were out. All of them were out. And that thing in the forest was growing near.
I stood there and watched it for several minutes waiting for it to move. It didn’t.
I turned back now walking as fast as I could. After a dozen yards I stopped and turned around.
It was closer, I was sure of it. Much closer.
I turned and began to jog forgetting everything Gus had told me. It was gaining on me.
Now I was in a full-blown run down the flight line, glancing back every few moments, still unable to see it but sure it was there. The thing that had been watching me since I got here. The thing that drove a cold shock down my spine. This was it.
My legs pumped like pistons and the sting of cold air shot through my chest with each strained, gasping breath.
I passed the recently harvested cornfield, in which stood two perfectly still Deer judging me for my frantic escape.
It was gaining on me.
Finally I came to the portables. I slammed into the nearest door but it stood firm. I slammed my shoulder into it three more times and it didn’t budge. I remembered my key chain.
I pulled it out and started flipping through the keys. *too many keys*.
First key. No.
Second key. No.
Third key. No.
The fourth key worked, the tumbler clicked and I was in. Slamming the door back in place, I frantically locked it.
My hands were shaking and even though I was panting, I went to the window. The void cast long shadows across the field as it stood transfixed not on me, but on the deer.
“Shhhh” a man’s voice whispered from behind me.
“Oh SWEET JESUS FU-“ I screamed as a hand clamped down on my mouth.
“SHHH.” Sharper this time, commanding. “It’s me.” Will whispered, releasing his hand from my mouth.
“What..” I replied quietly as I turned to see him using his phone to maneuver the drone. “What’s going on? You scared the shit out of me. Nice to meet you by the way I’m..”
He smiled, “You gotta be more careful buddy, Didn’t Gus tell you not to go out into the woods?” Now that I could hear him clearly, his odd vowel pronunciation took me off guard. He’d fit right in, in Venice beach. Surfers. He sounded exactly like how I imagined California Surfers sounded. Very out of place for this part of the country. I shook the thought from my mind.
“I didn’t, I..”
He shushed me and pointed to the deer.
“Just…watch.”
I’d never seen deer stay still so long.
I strained my eyes to see. The shadows, tilled earth and wilted corn husks broke up the terrain making it hard to see what was hidden in plain sight. I’d see movement then have to dismiss it as wind kicking up gentle curtains of soil or the shifting of a shadow from the small movements in the night.
Slowly a thin sharp shadow moved, followed by another, then another. They moved in concert from that enormous void that had followed me.
The deer stood transfixed before it all happened at once.
A mixture of humanlike screams erupted as each of their bodies were slammed into the ground. Viscera painted the wind. In another moment the light went out and I heard Will sigh.
The wind whistled and died, but we could still hear it out there breathing heavily as it gorged itself. From where I stood I could only see a throbbing silhouette breaking the horizon as it went to work. A crisp snap rang out as it pulled limb by limb from the carcass. The throbbing of the shape slowed as a new sound arose. A contented hum made its presence felt through the rattling of the windows and doors and threatened to overwhelm my own beating heart.
The sound rose as the shape slowly moved closer.
“What do we..”
Will shushed me.
I jumped and stifled a scream as a wet, boneless appendage slammed against the window curiously. The doorknob rattled though this time not from the creatures’ purr but from it’s clumsy efforts to open the door and join us inside.
The ceiling creaked above us under a massive weight.
It groaned as if remembering something and suddenly began moving away back towards the trees. There were no footfalls, just the gently receding sound of a blissful purr.
When it finally entered the world beyond its movements melted into those of the swaying branches becoming indiscernible. The more I tried to focus on it the harder it was to recall its form or the impossibility I’d just witnessed.
Will smiled and patted me on the shoulder sadly, “Welcome to Murkintok.”

submitted by A_Stony_Shore to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 05:01 A_Stony_Shore Murkintok Municipal Airport

I was going to be late. I was on the verge of panic, uncertain of where I’d come from or why I was late, but I was going to be late.
Today was supposed to be different. I was sure of it. The start of something new. My only opportunity to move out of my little dead-end corner of Appalachia rested on me arriving for the night shift on time.
I sped over the rolling road in a panic. Dense old growth rushed past in a blur periodically broken by small plots of pasture, apple orchards and fields that a few months earlier were brimming with corn. Shadows danced out there in the dim moonlight and the closer I got to the airfield the more separated from the small outlying town I felt.
My steering wheel was cold and it vibrated wildly in rhythm with my heart. I tapped it impatiently.
The rusted hulk nearly left the road each time I crested a hillock. My suspension groaned under the salt spurred corrosion and strain.
I can get a new car if this all works out.
I nearly missed my turn. Fishtailing, I plodded off the main road onto an aptly named “Airport Drive”.
I came to a halt at the designated stall and turned the car off.
A minute to spare.
I looked out into the darkness beyond the parking area and a tingle ran down my spine. The shadows that were once dancing as I passed were still now and the air oppressive. My hands were tingled with cold yet brimmed with sweat. Before opening the door, I took a few deep breaths, flattened my hair, and made sure my uniform was sharp. Looking into my image in the rearview mirror I cleared my throat.
“Alright buddy. You’ve been drifting from service job to service job in this dying county for half a decade. Somethings got to change. *You’ve* got to change. You’ve got a daughter now, you can’t be out there chasing bar weasels and getting drunk every other night. It’s time to up your game. You aren’t the little boy who had to stand in the corner with his nose to the wall every time you messed up anymore. Now your choices matter for her life too. The pay and experience here are going to help springboard you off into something bigger and brighter. You can do this.”
My car door shrieked open causing the chirping and croaks in the forest around the airfield to briefly fall silent. The crunch of gravel followed me across the unpaved, unmarked parking spaces poorly illuminated by one lonely floodlight. I made my way to the entrance of the terminal and pulled open the door to the chime of an old brass bell.
“Oh, hey buddy.” He glanced at the clock. “You’re early.” Stepping into the room I saw Gus casually looking up from his crossword, bifocals resting on his fat, bright red nose.
“Yessir. I figured maybe if things weren’t too busy we could get started early. I’ve heard night shift can be a lot to take in.”
His brows furrowed and his mouth hung half open.
“Well….alright, I guess. But we’ll be easing you in. Just the basics for the first week.” He held up a finger, “Will and I are gonna rotate each night, until we know you’ve got the hang of it, then we’ll start giving you more responsibilities – if you’re up to it.”
We spent several hours on the night shift responsibilities for the airfield. Many of the duties weren’t too complicated. When we went to the control room at the base of the single tower overlooking the tarmac we flipped several very clearly marked switches turning the runway lights on and off. Then we walked over the several generators tucked away behind baggage claim to check their fuel and oil levels.
“Checking these emergency generators things each night seems a bit overkill, no?” I asked.
Gus smiled. “These aren’t for emergencies. This is our power. Yea, this past winter much to our surprise we found that some of the power poles came down. Some heavy rainfall right before the first snow turned the ground to soup and the just sort of…fell over.”
“They really shouldn’t do that.”
Gus shrugged. “Yea well, corners get cut all over the place. Damn things still aren’t back up, so here we are.”
As we walked back over to the portables for baggage claim and arrivals/departures. Another tingle ran down my spine. Instinctively I looked around and caught sight of something out in the dark. It was the feeling of being watched. I tried to focus my eyes on the darkness. I saw some gently pulsating shadows near the trees but nothing more.
The chirping and croaks were nowhere to be heard and I shivered.
“Come on kid, I ain’t got all night.”
I came to and trotted over to where Gus had stopped. “Sorry, I thought I saw…something.”
We continued onward, restocking the restrooms, went over baggage tagging and safe lifting procedures and the other mundane parts of preparing for the night’s departures and arrivals.
Finally, we wrapped up my first training session with perimeter checks.
Gus’ labored breathing alternated with his footfalls on the blacktop as we walked down the small runway.
“Every 3 hours you are going to be making this walk.” He gestured around. “You start over at the ATC tower and head out to the tree line, then follow that parallel to the tarmac until you pass the last of the landing lights and keep going until you hit the transmission shack. Don’t get distracted and go off following the transmission lines. Had a guy do that a year or two ago and it took us a week only to find his ass mumbling by the side of the road talking about the linemen – boy wasn’t right after that.”
He paused thoughtfully for a moment.
“Anywho, after the transmission shack you hook right following the shore of the river until you hit Eddie’s orchard then head back. You’ll pass his cornfield and follow that until you see the two terminal portables, then you check the parking lot and come back to the office to enter it all in the logbook. Just need to make sure there ain’t nothing out there that shouldn’t be.”
We continued walking in silence for a few minutes. “So what do I do if I find something? Are we looking for the Wilson boys or something? I thought they stopped causing trouble after you…”
“Well, you need to enter it in the logbook for one.”
“Bears? What do I do if it’s bears?”
He stopped. “Bears? What the hell are you rambling about? We don’t get bears this time of year. Oh, and be sure to bring your bear spray.”
“Even though there aren’t bears?”
“It’s under the counter next to the logbook.” He paused again. “If you see any wildlife, just take the truck out there and honk at it to get it away from the runway. Be sure to use your high beams, too. Very important. You see any people you get back to the office and call the Sheriff – don’t need to be a hero. You hear anything weird out there in the dark you leave it be, if it’s off property it’s not our problem.”
“Any questions?” he asked as we got back to the office.
A few.
“No, I’m good.”
“Great, Will’s in the control tower if anything comes up. No flights scheduled for tonight so it should be awfully quiet. Here’s the keys to the castle. Adios.”
He placed a massive key ring into my hand that had more keys than there were doors on the property and took off.
I sat down behind the counter, looked at the broken clock and sighed.
I was able to knock out the task list before midnight and had 6 more hours to kill before the end of my shift. There was no cell service, because of course not. I tried reading an old Town and Country magazine I found stashed under the desk and found most of the pages had been covered in circles and doodles by someone who must have been just as bored as I was on some unknown shift prior.
I decided to sweep up and clean the counters to keep myself busy and after I was done it was only 12:15.
I groaned.
The silence was oppressive. Outside the window was an empty, dark expanse with a slowly strobing series of red lights marking the flight line. I felt safer indoors but even then as I stared into the dark something felt off. If I turned my gaze from the windows I could see something out of the corner of my eyes. Branches swaying in the breeze.
There was no wind here.
12:34.
I pulled the logbook out from its shelf and placed it on the counter entering my start time, grabbed my flashlight and headed out into the frigid night.
The occasional whistling of the wind punctuated my footfalls. I passed red light posts every few yards on a never-ending runway. I kept walking for what felt like half an hour, losing count of the lights I’d passed. I turned back out of curiosity and still saw the slowly receding light of the air traffic control tower confirming that yes, all was well. After the runway ended I continued into the dark until coming to the boarded up transmission shack and the power lines that ran off into the forest.
I came the edge of the marsh and began following it. Minutes passed. I turned to get my bearings on the tower and found it’s lonely beacon, but I also noticed a void in the dark – not a blackness per-se, black is a color. No, it was a complete lack of color, a hole in existence out past the power lines. It was getting larger.
I picked up my pace.
I got to the orchard and looked back finding that the lights were out. All of them were out. And that thing in the forest was growing near.
I stood there and watched it for several minutes waiting for it to move. It didn’t.
I turned back now walking as fast as I could. After a dozen yards I stopped and turned around.
It was closer, I was sure of it. Much closer.
I turned and began to jog forgetting everything Gus had told me. It was gaining on me.
Now I was in a full-blown run down the flight line, glancing back every few moments, still unable to see it but sure it was there. The thing that had been watching me since I got here. The thing that drove a cold shock down my spine. This was it.
My legs pumped like pistons and the sting of cold air shot through my chest with each strained, gasping breath.
I passed the recently harvested cornfield, in which stood two perfectly still Deer judging me for my frantic escape.
It was gaining on me.
Finally I came to the portables. I slammed into the nearest door but it stood firm. I slammed my shoulder into it three more times and it didn’t budge. I remembered my key chain.
I pulled it out and started flipping through the keys. *too many keys*.
First key. No.
Second key. No.
Third key. No.
The fourth key worked, the tumbler clicked and I was in. Slamming the door back in place, I frantically locked it.
My hands were shaking and even though I was panting, I went to the window. The void cast long shadows across the field as it stood transfixed not on me, but on the deer.
“Shhhh” a man’s voice whispered from behind me.
“Oh SWEET JESUS FU-“ I screamed as a hand clamped down on my mouth.
“SHHH.” Sharper this time, commanding. “It’s me.” Will whispered, releasing his hand from my mouth.
“What..” I replied quietly as I turned to see him using his phone to maneuver the drone. “What’s going on? You scared the shit out of me. Nice to meet you by the way I’m..”
He smiled, “You gotta be more careful buddy, Didn’t Gus tell you not to go out into the woods?” Now that I could hear him clearly, his odd vowel pronunciation took me off guard. He’d fit right in, in Venice beach. Surfers. He sounded exactly like how I imagined California Surfers sounded. Very out of place for this part of the country. I shook the thought from my mind.
“I didn’t, I..”
He shushed me and pointed to the deer.
“Just…watch.”
I’d never seen deer stay still so long.
I strained my eyes to see. The shadows, tilled earth and wilted corn husks broke up the terrain making it hard to see what was hidden in plain sight. I’d see movement then have to dismiss it as wind kicking up gentle curtains of soil or the shifting of a shadow from the small movements in the night.
Slowly a thin sharp shadow moved, followed by another, then another. They moved in concert from that enormous void that had followed me.
The deer stood transfixed before it all happened at once.
A mixture of humanlike screams erupted as each of their bodies were slammed into the ground. Viscera painted the wind. In another moment the light went out and I heard Will sigh.
The wind whistled and died, but we could still hear it out there breathing heavily as it gorged itself. From where I stood I could only see a throbbing silhouette breaking the horizon as it went to work. A crisp snap rang out as it pulled limb by limb from the carcass. The throbbing of the shape slowed as a new sound arose. A contented hum made its presence felt through the rattling of the windows and doors and threatened to overwhelm my own beating heart.
The sound rose as the shape slowly moved closer.
“What do we..”
Will shushed me.
I jumped and stifled a scream as a wet, boneless appendage slammed against the window curiously. The doorknob rattled though this time not from the creatures’ purr but from it’s clumsy efforts to open the door and join us inside.
The ceiling creaked above us under a massive weight.
It groaned as if remembering something and suddenly began moving away back towards the trees. There were no footfalls, just the gently receding sound of a blissful purr.
When it finally entered the world beyond its movements melted into those of the swaying branches becoming indiscernible. The more I tried to focus on it the harder it was to recall its form or the impossibility I’d just witnessed.
Will smiled and patted me on the shoulder sadly, “Welcome to Murkintok.”

submitted by A_Stony_Shore to A_Stony_Shore [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 04:41 Aggressive_Future921 I’ve Seen What lies Beyond the Gates in Blackwood Forest

The Blackwood Forest has always been a source of legend in our town. Not for anything good, though. Everyone here fears it. They always remind newcomers to “Never go into Blackwood Forest.” Nobody who enters it ever comes back. At least, that was how things used to be.

One of the most famous incidents surrounding the forest occurred around 1989. A family of 6, the Franks, moved into a house not far from the forest. It had an expansive backyard, stretching up until the edge of the dense clusters of trees that make up the boundary of Blackwood Forest. One evening, they decided to eat dinner in their new backyard. They weren’t going into the forest, just the fire pit about halfway between their house and the trees. Another family of 3, the Andersons, joined them. At around 8:30, screaming was heard by nearby neighbors. The police were called. When they arrived, they found that the benches, tables, and chairs were soaked in blood. The grass was smeared with it in a path leading into the forest. There was no sign of either of the families. The police confirmed the blood of 9 individuals was present at the scene. Enough blood was lost to assume the deaths of all 9 individuals.

After that day, a massive fence was built around the forest, to keep us out, or keep other things in. The fence is 11 feet tall and designed to be impossible to climb over, with almost no footholds. A gate is kept locked tight, located at the end of a worn path leading out of the side of town. Nobody goes in, and nothing gets out. Not that anyone knows what took the Franks or Robinsons. Except, of course, for me. I’ve seen what lies beyond the gates of Blackwood Forest. I’ve seen the beasts that took those families, all those years ago.

The fence wasn’t really necessary to be perfectly honest. There aren’t really any trails to hike through the forest, and we don’t have many issues with kids doing stupid things like trying to sneak in for “fame.” Even if we did, the fence keeps them out. Therefore nobody has any reason to go into the forest. Everyone is too afraid.

But, although I listened to what everyone always said; “Never go into Blackwood Forest,” I was curious. My morning run took me past the fence and gate, and I would sometimes glance in to see what was in there. I thought it looked like a normal, albeit dark, forest. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very off. There weren’t many animals, like birds or squirrels, and you couldn’t hear the ones that were there very well. It was oddly quiet. At night, no crickets would be heard. No fireflies during the summer. It was oddly devoid of animal life for a dense forest with so many places for a small critter to live or a bird to make a nest. However besides that, it really didn’t seem that dangerous.

A few weeks ago, my curiosity got the best of me. I decided to see if there were any openings that I could slip into. Sure enough, on the very far side of the fence, opposite the side with the town, I found a small gap I could squeeze into. I decided that the next morning, I would grab my phone and camera and explore some of the forest close to the fence. I was excited to see what lay within, and wondered about what sort of stuff I might find. After all, nobody ever went in there.

The next day came, and after eating breakfast, I jogged to the small opening I’d found the previous day. I had a backpack with some water and food, as well as the camera and phone. I pushed my backpack through first, and then squeezed through the opening.

The first thing I noticed upon entering was how dark it was. The trees blocked out much of the sunlight. It was hard to see very much. Thankfully, I could use both my phone’s flashlight and the one attached to my camera. As I walked, the quiet of the forest around me felt eerie. There should have been the sounds of animals beginning to wake up and start their day, but instead there was silence. Every sound I made, like stepping on a tree, quickly was dampened out, as if swallowed whole by the trees.

After a few minutes of walking and taking pictures, I came upon a worn path. I was confused, since there was no reason for any path to have been here because nobody had ever lived in the forest. I took another photo, and decided to follow the path. After another few minutes of walking, I noticed a clearing with sunlight pouring into it ahead. In the very center of it sat an old, decrepit stone building. Off to the side, there was an old well. The building had a very weathered but readable sign, identifying it as “Blackwood Church.” I took a photo of the church and well and decided to enter. I was very curious, as nobody should have ever lived out here, this deep into the woods. There was a church that had been built as part of the original town, so it didn’t make sense for this one to be there.

I walked through the place where the doors would have been, had they not rotted off of the hinges. I could see the space around me because of several holes in the roof allowing sunlight in. It seemed like it was once fairly normal, though weeds had sprouted up through the floorboards which were falling apart. I stepped outside after snapping some photographs. I was going to leave back along the path and get out of the forest. As I walked, I noticed that there seemed to be several old buildings, almost destroyed, spread out on the edges of the clearing. I began to see the old worn paths made of cobblestone and dirt, almost invisible, having been reclaimed by nature. This wasn’t just some church, this was an entire town.

I was both shocked and excited. I spent the next hour taking photographs of all of the somewhat intact buildings and their rubble counterparts. I spent around an hour exploring the town, exploring a butchers shop, clothes store, and general store. I finally made my way to the path I had come in on. I noticed, underneath all of the foliage, there seemed to be a sign. I brushed some of the growth away and read the faded words; “Welcome to Blackwood, Population: 349, c. 1903.”

At this point, on top of the confusion, there was a growing feeling of nervousness in my gut. I’d never heard of any town in Blackwood Forest. Our town, Greyrock Springs, was founded in 1909. I searched the other houses on the outskirts of this ghost town. In one of them, I found the journal of a 19 year old girl named Ellie. She had moved into the town with her family, the Wilsons, and another one they were close friends with, the Millers. They had moved in 1905. The first dozen pages were normal entries about life around the town, her friend, 19 year old Janie Miller, and her older brother, 21 year old Shaun Miller. She and Shaun were apparently set to get married in a year, something Ellie wrote almost endlessly about. The 20th entry, dated September 17, 1905, however, was different.

The 20th entry said that 7 townsfolk and gone missing suddenly overnight. It read, “Last night 7 of our neighbors vanished. The Smith family and Mr. H. The Sheriff doesn’t know what happened to them. Their beds appear to have been slept in, and their homes appear normal. But nobody has seen or heard of any of them since 8:00 last night. I’m getting worried, some of the other neighbors are talking about dark shadows in the trees snatching them away. I hope they’re alright.”

After reading this, my anxiety started growing. What could have happened to the people who lived here? I looked at the next entry, 6 days later. It read “Almost everyone has vanished. The night after the first disappearances, 14 people vanished. The numbers got worse from there. The Sheriff, the butcher, the schoolteacher, all gone. Last night, 34 people, including the Millers, vanished. There are only 115 of us now. Janie and Shaun are gone, their beds unkempt, everything else in place as if they just got up and walked out. It’s 7:52 at night according to my clock. There are things making weird screeches out there. I can see the shadows outside. They’re drawing closer. I think I’m going to join Janie and Shaun tonight. At least I won’t have to live on without my friend and love.”

Terror was beginning to take hold now. I looked around the room. I realized that it was now noon. I had been reading for so long I had lost track of time. I got up, grabbed the journal, and ran out of the house, the feeling of being watched nearly overwhelming me. I got to the path I had walked in on. It was then that the screeching and wailing began.

It started as an inhuman, deep, gravelly sound, and then cracked and sounded like a dying person giving a final cry for help. Soon, a chorus of these other-worldly howls filled the forest. Terror shot through my body. I felt chills. I turned and scanned my surroundings, searching for the source of the sounds.

That was when I saw one of Them for the first time.

I don’t know how to describe Them here, but I will do my best to give you an idea of what lurks in those woods.

They are tall, around 7 feet, with pure black skin. No light reflects off of any part of Them, except for their milky white eyes. Brown veins reach for the center of the eye, where the iris and pupil would have been. Instead, there was just more white. In some places, Their flesh clings to Their bones as though they have been vacuum-sealed. In others, the flesh is gone, and only bone remains. Their entire body has pulsating, grey veins spiderwebbing from place to place. And Their mouths stretch from one side of the head to the other, nearly to the hinges connecting the jaw to the skull. Their teeth are thin as a needle, and they have hundreds of them.

One of Them was standing close to me, looking at me. It let out a screech-wail and started to run towards me. I turned and bolted, running towards the church, hoping to escape through an window-opening. As I reached the church, I turned and glanced back, only to see It standing near the well, not moving. Instead, it was growling at me. As we stared each other down, more of Them began to appear. They formed a ring around the church. I was now trapped. Panic began to set in more deeply, as I looked through the window-openings, trying to look for a weakness in the circle I could use to escape, and there was one. Directly behind the church, there was a large opening in the ring of monsters surrounding me. Taking several deep breaths and becoming as calm as I could given the circumstances, I took my opportunity and ran. I jumped out the window and sprinting with more force than I have ever used in my life.

I made it to the trees, hearing their horrible screech-wails following uncomfortably close behind. I didn’t stop, running through the foliage like my life depended on it, which I could tell it did. Most of Them remained behind, but a few followed me deeper and deeper into the forest, not letting up. The trees and brush whipped at me, stinging and cutting my skin, but a continued, even going faster. I finally stopped when I couldn’t hear Them behind me anymore. By this point, it was closer to 2:00 P.M. I had run in the opposite direction I had entered Blackwood from. The adrenaline I had felt began to wear off, and I wanted to collapse from exhaustion, but I knew those things would keep looking for me until they found me.

I spent the rest of the day cautiously searching for the fence, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find it. By the time it got dark, I was exhausted. The adrenaline from the whole day had turned into a mix of emotions, namely fear and anxiety. I decided to hide in a tree, in the event They found me. As I sat there, looking, I began to hear that screeching wail and those deep growls and grunts. They were close. I held my breath as the first one approached. It looked around, peering through the forest, searching for me. I got the feeling it knew I was close.

It started to scan some bushes near the tree I was in, when It looked up suddenly. I fell from my spot in surprise, hitting the ground hard and with a grunt. It let out a wail, and started to approach me. I searched for something to use as a weapon, and found a sharp rock. I looked at the large veins covering It’s chest area. It seemed like the perfect target. It began to run, screeched and then lunged. I pulled the rock from behind my back and sliced with ferocity, cutting through the veins like paper. It screamed and shrieked, black ooze shooting out of the wound like a hose until it stopped. The creature let out a final wail before collapsing to the ground. I looked at it. I could hear a sickly breathing coming from the thing. Before it died, I heard a distorted but human voice mutter a weak “Thank.. you..” and then the breathing stopped. I was stunned. I didn’t have much time to think about it, because more wails could be heard approaching fast in the distance. I continued to run through the forest, more adrenaline pumping through my veins, fear at the back of my mind. I ran for a long time until I ended up back in that town. I hid in the church, underneath the floorboards. At some point, I fell asleep from exhaustion.

The next 6 days were awful. I spent most of them hiding, slowly running through my food and water I had packed. One morning, as I reached the last of my water, I realized I had to escape. Although They searched the forests for me, I thought I could slip past Them and make it to the fence. But after a few minutes of preparing, I heard those wails approaching from the distance yet again. I grabbed my backpack and stepped outside again. I looked, seeing the creatures from before step out from the trees. I prepared myself, and ran. All of them began to follow me, their screeches cutting through the quiet of the forest and reminding me of how close I was to death. I went down that same worn path, sprinting through the woods. One jumped out in front of me, forcing me to veer off the path and into the forest. I ran, nearly tripping and getting cut on the branches. That was when I saw it. Ahead of me, finally, lay the fence. I took off the backpack as I approached. There was the gap. I was about to escape. They were close now, just a few yards away. I forced the backpack through the opening, forcing myself through it just as they reached the fence.

I turned to look back at them, snapping one final photograph. I’m not entirely sure why I did that, but maybe I just wanted proof of the truth. That I wasn’t crazy. What I saw was real. I grabbed the backpack and ran back towards town, towards safety, towards home, their growls and wails fading behind me.

I want to say that I’m safe now, that everything is ok, but it isn’t. A week ago, I started to hear whispers from my neighbors of wails, screeches, and growls coming from the fence. If anyone looked in the direction the sound was coming from, it stopped. I had to walk past the fence a few days ago, and I heard it. I was all alone. The fence started to rattle as well. I turned to look, but only saw a tall shadow slipping into the darkness of the trees.

Last night, two people who were walking past the fence vanished.

That brings us to today.

I know what They want. They are angry. I wasn’t supposed to escape. I don’t want to do this, but I won’t endanger anyone else who lives here.

I’ll leave the photos, camera, and journal in my desk for safe keeping. That way people will understand what I saw, at least partially. People will hear the story of the townspeople of Blackwood. That is the reason I’m posting this. So more of you know.

I have accepted my fate. After I post this, I will walk to the gate, and I will be taken. I don’t know for sure, but I think I will become one of Them, cursed to walk Blackwood Forest forever. My consciousness will be left a fragment, my humanity gone, as I walk the forest and wail, screech, and growl. This is the end for me. If anyone cares, my name is Daniel. I am 29 years old. I live in Greyrock Springs. If you come here, to find me or Blackwood or those things, or maybe even the pictures and journal, remember one thing.

Never go into Blackwood Forest.

submitted by Aggressive_Future921 to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 04:07 BigBlueMagic BE HEARD!!!! Last chance to stop TERRIBLE STADIUM HANDOUT!!!!

(I also posted this in /vegaslocals. If reposting here isn't allowed, I apologize, and feel free to take down).
Hey Everybody!!!
I just want to keep you in the loop on what’s going on with Oakland A’s owner John Fisher’s request to have the Nevada Legislature give him up to $380 million in public funds for a new stadium. The Legislative session ENDS MONDAY, which means that they will ram this through very quickly in the next 48 hours or so or call a special session.
NOW IS THE TIME FOR YOU TO SPEAK OUT!!!! I have put together a fairly well-documented argument below demonstrating that this is a bad deal and Fisher is a terrible partner. Please share this post and information as widely as you can! Most importantly, contact members of the Legislature and BE HEARD!!! Be sure to tell them that you live in Nevada!!!
Contact your Assemblyperson and State Senator!!
Assembly contact info: https://www.leg.state.nv.us/App/LegislatoA/Assembly/Current
State Senate Contact info: https://www.leg.state.nv.us/App/LegislatoA/Senate/Current
If you would like, you could use or modify this sample letter which contains URL links supporting the claims.

Dear Senator or Assemblyperson [Last Name], I am writing to express my strong opposition to the proposed public funding for John Fisher's baseball stadium in Nevada. I believe this project should be stopped for several reasons: Lack of transparency: Fisher and his team deliberately released funding details at the last minute and scheduled the only public hearing on Memorial Day evening, during a Golden Knights playoff game, limiting public awareness and participation. This is a shameful subversion of democracy and I hope you had no part in it. Neglected education system: Nevada ranks 49th out of 50 in educational attainment. Our focus should be on improving public schools, not funding a billionaire's stadium. Unrealistic economic projections: Expert analysis discredits the claim that the stadium will attract an additional 400,000 tourists, which, even if true, would only be a 1% increase on an annual basis. A Stanford economics professor expressed his belief that Fisher’s Stadium will result in the equivalent of a few hundred, permanent, long-term jobs. Fisher’s economic projections are detached from reality and unreliable. Fisher's history: His track record with the San Jose Quakes, another publicly funded stadium venture, raises concerns about his commitment to investing in player payroll and creating a competitive team. Fisher owns the Quakes. After he was given a public handout for a stadium, he did not change or competitively fund his soccer team. Troubled partnerships: Mark Davis of the Raiders, who shared the Oakland Coliseum with the A’s, has expressed frustration with Fisher's management group. MLB owners are also frustrated by doing business with Fisher. Nevada should expect to have the same experience if we proceed. I urge you to oppose public funding for John Fisher's stadium. Let's prioritize transparency, education, and responsible use of public funds for the benefit of all Nevada residents. Thank you for your attention to this matter. Please consider my perspective as you make your decision. Should you require further information or have any questions, I am available to discuss this issue. Sincerely, [Your Name]

Feel free to modify, expand or use as-is. You can also write your own letter too. I'm just trying to make this as easy as possible for everyone so that we are HEARD!
TLDR Bullet Points For Big Argument Below:

Oakland A’s owner John Fisher, and team President Dave Kaval, strategically released details about stadium funding to minimize public awareness and participation. They released the legislation on Friday of Memorial Day weekend and the only public hearing was on Memorial Day during the Golden Knights playoff game.
Fisher and Kaval failed to even show up at the Memorial Day hearing, demonstrating a lack of accountability and a disregard for public concerns. They have never publicly answered any questions.
The prioritization of funding for a sports stadium over public education in Nevada, particularly the Clark County School District, is concerning.
Economic projections presented by Fisher's lobbyists are questionable and disconnected from reality, as experts have pointed out.
Fisher's history with the San Jose Quakes of Major League Soccer raises doubts about his commitment to investing in a competitive team with public funds.
The low payroll of the A's compared to other MLB teams suggests a strategy of minimizing expenses for greater profitability.
Mark Davis, owner of the Raiders and A's shared the Oakland Coliseum, expressed personal animosity towards Fisher and his management approach. Other MLB owners have expressed similar frustration about doing business with Fisher.
Elected leaders should consider these concerns and prioritize the needs of the community over the interests of wealthy individuals.

PUBLIC FUNDING FOR JOHN FISHER’S STADIUM MUST BE STOPPED!!!!
1. They Don’t Want to Hear From You
Fisher and Kaval strategically waited until the 11th hour to release details about the handout. From USA Today:

The A’s, their cadre of lobbyists in Nevada and friendly politicians and tourist officials are doing their best to hide the sausage, introducing, finally, legislation for state funding of myriad projects on the Friday night of a holiday weekend, and then offering public discussion on the evening of Memorial Day. Pretty slick! And it sounds like Gov. Joe Lombardo’s signature would be waiting.

The only public hearing on giving away hundreds of millions of dollars occurred on Memorial Day. And not just on Memorial Day — it was in the evening during Game Six of the Western Conference Finals where the Golden Knights punched their tickets to the Stanley Cup Finals. A hearing at 4:00 AM on Christmas morning would have received a higher profile and greater public scrutiny.
They didn’t want you to know about the hearing and your opportunity to be heard. And if, by chance you did hear about it, they didn’t want you to be able to show up and be heard. They are not very subtle about their preference to not hear from you, the unwashed masses.
Guess who else wasn’t there? A’s owner John Fisher and President Dave Kaval. I am not making this up. They didn’t bother to show up to the Memorial Day hearing. They want us to give them hundreds of millions of dollars, but couldn’t be bothered to show up at the hearing and answer questions themselves? Where were they Monday night? What was so important they couldn’t be bothered to show up for a public hearing to answer questions in public? Fisher and his army of lobbyists have had weeks to meet privately with lawmakers behind closed doors. Are you telling me Fisher couldn’t give us regular folks two hours in public?
2. What Are Our Priorities?
There’s no way to sugarcoat it. Nevada, and in particular the Clark County School District, fail to provide adequate public education. Nevada ranks 49th out of 50 for educational attainment. Of the 50 largest metropolitan areas in the United States, Las Vegas ranks second worst for schools. This is unacceptable, yet real education reform is never a priority for the same politicians who are willing to pull the Memorial Day/Stanley Cup Playoff hearing shenanigans for Fisher.
If our elected officials can turn on a dime to hand out hundreds of millions of dollars to a billionaire for a sports stadium, why can’t they act with similar urgency for our disastrous public school system?
Our failed public schools, especially CCSD, are the most significant impediment to economic growth and diversification. The number one reason companies and individuals are reluctant to relocate to Las Vegas are our terrible public schools. If we want to create economic growth, we need to fund and fix our public schools, not build another billionaire a sports stadium.
3. The Numbers Don’t Make Sense. They’re Basically Fraud.
Whenever a billionaire asks the public to finance his stadium, the ask is always accompanied by a series of fantastical economic projections. If you watched the Memorial Day/Stanley Cup Playoff hearing, you saw a powerpoint presentation made by Fisher’s hired lobbyists. The numbers presented by Fisher’s lobbyists aren’t simply slightly embellished, they are disconnected from reality.
First, there is the claim that Fisher’s publicly funded stadium will bring an additional 400,000 tourists. John Mehaffey breaks down this non-sensical claim in the Nevada Independent:

The 400,000 number seems inflated to me. The A’s host 81 baseball games per year. This projection assumes 4,938 tourists at each game that would otherwise not be in Las Vegas. Considering only one American League market is within a reasonable driving distance, most of these tourists would fly to see their home team. Many or most of these tourists would go to two or three games in a series to justify this travel. If the average number is two games, that puts 9,877 visitors in the stadium per home game. If those fans go to an entire three-game series, that number is 14,815. If the 1.8 million locals attendance prediction is accurate, and visiting fans tend to go to a series as opposed to just one game, the A’s project that they will sell out the stadium's 35,000-seat capacity every home game. If visitors go to only two games, that is 90 percent of capacity. That is a bold projection for a team that was last in attendance in 2022 and at the bottom so far in 2023, especially since no MLB team comes close to selling out all its home games. The lack of flights makes 400,000 new visitors seem impossible Most teams that would visit the Las Vegas A’s stadium are in the American League. Most are in the east where nonstop flights to Las Vegas are scarce. For example, I found five or fewer nonstop flights per day from six of the other 14 American League cities. Four of those six teams had home stadium attendance below 20,000 per game in 2022. It’s hard to imagine that 10,000 or 15,000 fans will fly across the country for a series when that is around the average attendance for the 81 home games in their own cities. Some displaced fans may be within driving distance, but the point is one that needs to be considered. Las Vegas would need dozens of flights per series that don’t exist to accommodate this prediction.

Mehaffey also points out that Miami, which recently built a publicly financed stadium, also has 40 million visitors a year, just like Las Vegas. However, the Miami metro is substantially larger than Las Vegas. “In 2022, the Miami Marlins averaged 11,204 per game. A market with a much larger metro population that posts similar tourism numbers does not come close to the A’s projections. There is no reason to think Las Vegas will be different.”
Stanford economics professor Roger Noll agrees with Mehaffey that the attendance numbers Fisher projects are not credible. From USA Today:

“Baseball is different than the NFL,” Roger Noll, professor of economics emeritus at Stanford University, tells USA TODAY Sports. “This notion that of those 162 baseball games, I've got to see those three that are between the A's and the Royals in Las Vegas - it's just nonsense, right? It's not true, it's not going to happen. “That's the fundamental reason why economists, when they do research on the impact of sports teams, typically find that the effect on local incomes and employment is slightly negative.”

But what about job creation?

Noll says the hours that stadium workers put in – for 81 games a year – computes to roughly 15% of a full-time job. “So the 500 people who work at the stadium on game day, you got to multiply that by .15 to get the number of full-time equivalent jobs, which means it's less than 100. Wow,” says Noll. “You know, $1.5 billion to create less than 100 jobs, right? Wow.”

4. Grossly Underfunded Payroll
The total payroll for the 2023 A’s is just $59,630,474, just 37% of the MLB average payroll of $116,112,414 and just 17% of the highest-spending New York Mets ($345,474,042). To provide context, the highest paid players in the league, Max Scherzer and Justin Verlander, will each make $43,333,333. Verlander’s salary, by itself, is 72% of the entire A’s roster!
This meager spending is by choice, not necessity. It’s a strategy that works. From Sports Illustrated:

The A's were a top-5 team in 2022. Not on the field. The A's finished with a 60-102 record, second-worst only ahead of the Washington Nationals. On the spreadsheets though, they netted $62.2 million according to a report from Forbes. The only teams they finished behind were the revamped Seattle Mariners who made the playoffs for the first time in two decades, the San Francisco Giants, the Boston Red Sox, and the Baltimore Orioles who had a Mariners-esque upswing and an A's-esque payroll.

When the A’s do develop talent, they quickly jettison those players to avoid paying them their true worth on the market. As Review-Journal columnist Ed Graney explained, when Fisher’s A’s have experienced success, the response has been to break down the team and sell off the parts. Graney concluded: “John Fisher is an owner with deep, deep pockets who (incredibly) has always acted in a way that he can’t afford to hand out exorbitant contracts to his best players. About him, an overwhelmingly popular opinion is that he simply doesn’t want to.”
Why do this? Wouldn’t a competitive team generate more revenue? In Major League Baseball, there is a revenue sharing agreement among the franchises, intended to help smaller markets field competitive teams. Fisher uses revenue sharing, and dumping talent, to be one of the most profitable owners in baseball. From the New York Post:

At least a few rival MLB club owners are annoyed at the Athletics for conducting a major fire sale to enhance their bottom line soon after being added as a new revenue-sharing recipient in a vote by owners. “The idea of revenue sharing is not to make money, it’s to field a competitive team,” one rival owner complained Thursday during the owners’ meetings at MLB headquarters in Midtown. “That money is supposed to go toward player salaries. [The A’s] took the money and put it in their pocket.” Yet another owner, also upset that the A’s didn’t use the money to buy new players, but instead did the opposite and sold three major stars and drastically cut their payroll, referred to the franchise generally as “a mess.”

Fisher will not fund a competitive team in Las Vegas if we give him a stadium handout. That would destroy his very profitable business strategy. Why would he do that? The payroll of the Las Vegas A’s will be 30th out of 30 MLB teams, just like the Oakland A’s.
5. History Repeating: Quakes Publicly Funded Stadium
There seems to be some hopeful thinking that if we give John Fisher a stadium handout, he will increase the A’s payroll to become more competitive. A’s President Dave Kaval stirred excitement when he insinuated that the franchise would bankroll a World Series championship team with a new stadium in Las Vegas. “But with more revenues, we want to turn a playoff team into a World Series team. That’s why we’re fighting so hard for a new stadium, whether it’s in Las Vegas or Oakland,” Kaval told the Review-Journal.
Many people, including our elected officials, want to believe this, in good faith. It would be awesome to have a Las Vegas MLB franchise win a World Series!
This isn’t Fisher’s first rodeo with a publicly funded stadium. Fisher is also the owner of the San Jose Quakes of Major League Soccer. From an Associated Press article in the May 25, 2006 Salinas Californian on public financing for a new Quakes stadium: “The Quakes won MLS championships in 2001 and 2003 led by former star forward Landon Donovan but attendance slid to an average of just 13,037 fans last season.” Sound familiar?
So what happened? Did Fisher increase player payroll once he obtained his publicly financed soccer stadium?
From the San Jose Mercury News:

Out of the 29 MLS teams, the Earthquakes rank 21st in guaranteed player compensation and base salary, both on a per-player and teamwide basis. The Earthquakes’ average salary came in at $434,079, nearly $100,000 lower than the overall average salary for an MLS player ($530,467). San Jose’s total spending ($13.022 million) comes in at more than $2.8 million below the average team spending across the league (15.822 million). It’s a continued trend for the Quakes, even after they moved into the state-of-the-art PayPal Park in 2015. The Earthquakes have consistently ranked in the bottom half of the league in spending, per Spotrac, even as the MLS has continued to add new expansion teams over the years. Earthquakes spending rank in MLS by year · 2015 (20 teams) — 15th · 2016 (20 teams) — 11th · 2017 (22 teams) — 16th · 2018 (23 teams) — 19th · 2019 (24 teams) — 19th · 2020 (26 teams) — 17th · 2021 (27 teams) — 24th · 2022 (28 teams) — 22nd · 2023 (29 teams) — 21st That has been reflected in on-field results, too. Since the Earthquakes moved into their new home, they have never finished a season with more wins than losses — the closest they came was in that first year, at 13 wins, 13 losses and eight draws.

Nevada should expect Fisher to act in the future as he has in the past. His business strategy is clear: spend as little as possible on player payroll regardless of venue. If Nevada gives Fisher a handout, nobody — nobody — can act surprised when his miserly payroll does not change.
The Raiders and A’s shared the Oakland Coliseum for decades. Aces and Raiders owner Mark Davis is very familiar with what it means to “partner” with John Fisher. Davis did not hold back when he spoke with the Review-Journal:

“I won’t forget what they did to us in Oakland. They squatted on a lease for 10 years and made it impossible for us to build on that stadium,” the Raiders owner said in a phone chat Thursday afternoon, referring to the stadium the A’s and Raiders once shared, the Oakland Coliseum. “They were looking for a stadium. We were looking for a stadium. They didn’t want to build a stadium, and then went ahead and signed a 10-year lease with the city of Oakland and said, ‘We’re the base team.’” … Davis was asked if he could envision an environment where the Silver and Black would cross-promote with the green-and-gold Las Vegas Athletics. “Not with that management group,” Davis said. “I just have, again, a lot of personal animosity toward the front office. But with a new management group? Absolutely.”

Mark Davis did business with John Fisher for decades. Davis knows Fisher. Nobody in Nevada has done business with Fisher as much as Davis. Davis’ reaction to Fisher, basically unfiltered instinctual revulsion, should be a massive red flag to our elected leaders who are being plied with sweet nothings by Fisher’s hired guns.
Sources:
“A’s Stadium Math Doesn’t Add Up.” The Nevada Independent, May 30, 2023. https://thenevadaindependent.com/article/as-stadium-math-doesnt-add-up.
Graney, Ed. “Graney: A’s Penny-Pinching a Reason for Las Vegas to Reassess.” Journal, March 18, 2022. https://www.reviewjournal.com/sports/sports-columns/ed-graney/graney-as-penny-pinching-a-reason-for-las-vegas-to-reassess-2547852/.
Gutierrez, Ana. “Nevada Ranks as the Second Least Educated State in America.” KLAS, February 17, 2022. https://www.8newsnow.com/news/local-news/nevada-ranks-as-the-second-least-educated-state-in-america/.
Jenkins, Bruce. “MLB Has Punished Other Owners. Why Is A’s John Fisher Getting a Pass?” San Francisco Chronicle, June 3, 2023. https://www.sfchronicle.com/sports/jenkins/article/john-fisher-mlb-oakland-18130516.php.
Katsilometes, John. “Raiders Owner Rips Oakland Athletics’ Likely Move to Las Vegas.” Journal, April 27, 2023. https://www.reviewjournal.com/entertainment/entertainment-columns/kats/raiders-owner-rips-oakland-athletics-likely-move-to-las-vegas-2765229/?xxyy.
Lacques, Gabe. “Why A’s Las Vegas Stadium Gambit May Be a Losing Bet: ‘It’s Just Nonsense.’” USA Today, June 1, 2023. https://www.usatoday.com/story/sports/mlb/athletics/2023/06/01/oakland-as-move-las-vegas-stadium-gambit-losing-bet/70277528007/.
Lozito, Nick. “‘this Is Not Our Fault:’ Oakland A’s Fans Are Defending Their Image.” The Oaklandside, May 5, 2023. https://oaklandside.org/2023/05/01/oakland-athletics-leaving-las-vegas-john-fisher-dave-kaval-fans/.
“MLB 2023 Payroll Tracker.” Spotrac.com. Accessed June 3, 2023. https://www.spotrac.com/mlb/payroll/.
Oakland Athletics made over $60 million in 2023 - Sports Illustrated ... Accessed June 4, 2023. https://www.si.com/mlb/athletics/news/oakland-athletics-made-over-60-million-in-2023.
Shea, John. “Don’t Believe John Fisher’s Propaganda: A’s Fans Are the Best in Baseball.” San Francisco Chronicle, June 1, 2023. https://www.sfchronicle.com/sports/athletics/article/oakland-a-s-fans-aren-t-reason-team-las-vegas-18126429.php.
Simon, Alex. “Would New Oakland A’s Ballpark Lead to More Spending? John Fisher’s Other Team Shows That May Not Be the Case.” The Mercury News, May 17, 2023. https://www.mercurynews.com/2023/05/16/would-new-oakland-as-ballpark-lead-to-more-spending-john-fishers-other-team-shows-that-may-not-be-the-case/.
Wootton-Greener, Julie. “Las Vegas Area Schools Ranked Second-Worst in Nation for Quality.” Journal, December 9, 2021. https://www.reviewjournal.com/local/education/las-vegas-area-schools-ranked-second-worst-in-nation-for-quality-2493177/.

submitted by BigBlueMagic to Nevada [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 03:48 BigBlueMagic BE HEARD!!! Last Chance To Stop the Legislature From Giving Away Hundreds of Millions in Terrible Stadium Handout!!!!!!!

Hey Everybody!!!
I just want to keep you in the loop on what’s going on with Oakland A’s owner John Fisher’s request to have the Nevada Legislature give him up to $380 million in public funds for a new stadium. The Legislative session ENDS MONDAY, which means that they will ram this through very quickly in the next 48 hours or so or call a special session.
NOW IS THE TIME FOR YOU TO SPEAK OUT!!!! I have put together a fairly well-documented argument below demonstrating that this is a bad deal and Fisher is a terrible partner. Please share this post and information as widely as you can! Most importantly, contact members of the Legislature and BE HEARD!!! Be sure to tell them that you live in Nevada!!!
Contact your Assemblyperson and State Senator!!
Assembly contact info: https://www.leg.state.nv.us/App/LegislatoA/Assembly/Current
State Senate Contact info: https://www.leg.state.nv.us/App/LegislatoA/Senate/Current
If you would like, you could use or modify this sample letter which contains URL links supporting the claims.

Dear Senator or Assemblyperson [Last Name],
I am writing to express my strong opposition to the proposed public funding for John Fisher's baseball stadium in Nevada. I believe this project should be stopped for several reasons:
Lack of transparency: Fisher and his team deliberately released funding details at the last minute and scheduled the only public hearing on Memorial Day evening, during a Golden Knights playoff game, limiting public awareness and participation. This is a shameful subversion of democracy and I hope you had no part in it.
Neglected education system: Nevada ranks 49th out of 50 in educational attainment. Our focus should be on improving public schools, not funding a billionaire's stadium.
Unrealistic economic projections: Expert analysis discredits the claim that the stadium will attract an additional 400,000 tourists, which, even if true, would only be a 1% increase on an annual basis. A Stanford economics professor expressed his belief that Fisher’s Stadium will result in the equivalent of a few hundred, permanent, long-term jobs. Fisher’s economic projections are detached from reality and unreliable.
Fisher's history: His track record with the San Jose Quakes, another publicly funded stadium venture, raises concerns about his commitment to investing in player payroll and creating a competitive team. Fisher owns the Quakes. After he was given a public handout for a stadium, he did not change or competitively fund his soccer team.
Troubled partnerships: Mark Davis of the Raiders, who shared the Oakland Coliseum with the A’s, has expressed frustration with Fisher's management group. MLB owners are also frustrated by doing business with Fisher. Nevada should expect to have the same experience if we proceed.
I urge you to oppose public funding for John Fisher's stadium. Let's prioritize transparency, education, and responsible use of public funds for the benefit of all Nevada residents.
Thank you for your attention to this matter. Please consider my perspective as you make your decision. Should you require further information or have any questions, I am available to discuss this issue.
Sincerely,
[Your Name]

Oakland A’s owner John Fisher, and team President Dave Kaval, strategically released details about stadium funding to minimize public awareness and participation. They released the legislation on Friday of Memorial Day weekend and the only public hearing was on Memorial Day during the Golden Knights playoff game.
Fisher and Kaval failed to even show up at the Memorial Day hearing, demonstrating a lack of accountability and a disregard for public concerns. They have never publicly answered any questions.
The prioritization of funding for a sports stadium over public education in Nevada, particularly the Clark County School District, is concerning.
Economic projections presented by Fisher's lobbyists are questionable and disconnected from reality, as experts have pointed out.
Fisher's history with the San Jose Quakes of Major League Soccer raises doubts about his commitment to investing in a competitive team with public funds.
The low payroll of the A's compared to other MLB teams suggests a strategy of minimizing expenses for greater profitability.
Mark Davis, owner of the Raiders and A's shared the Oakland Coliseum, expressed personal animosity towards Fisher and his management approach. Other MLB owners have expressed similar frustration about doing business with Fisher.
Elected leaders should consider these concerns and prioritize the needs of the community over the interests of wealthy individuals.

The A’s, their cadre of lobbyists in Nevada and friendly politicians and tourist officials are doing their best to hide the sausage, introducing, finally, legislation for state funding of myriad projects on the Friday night of a holiday weekend, and then offering public discussion on the evening of Memorial Day.
Pretty slick! And it sounds like Gov. Joe Lombardo’s signature would be waiting.

The 400,000 number seems inflated to me. The A’s host 81 baseball games per year. This projection assumes 4,938 tourists at each game that would otherwise not be in Las Vegas.
Considering only one American League market is within a reasonable driving distance, most of these tourists would fly to see their home team. Many or most of these tourists would go to two or three games in a series to justify this travel.
If the average number is two games, that puts 9,877 visitors in the stadium per home game. If those fans go to an entire three-game series, that number is 14,815. If the 1.8 million locals attendance prediction is accurate, and visiting fans tend to go to a series as opposed to just one game, the A’s project that they will sell out the stadium's 35,000-seat capacity every home game. If visitors go to only two games, that is 90 percent of capacity.
That is a bold projection for a team that was last in attendance in 2022 and at the bottom so far in 2023, especially since no MLB team comes close to selling out all its home games.
The lack of flights makes 400,000 new visitors seem impossible
Most teams that would visit the Las Vegas A’s stadium are in the American League. Most are in the east where nonstop flights to Las Vegas are scarce. For example, I found five or fewer nonstop flights per day from six of the other 14 American League cities.
Four of those six teams had home stadium attendance below 20,000 per game in 2022. It’s hard to imagine that 10,000 or 15,000 fans will fly across the country for a series when that is around the average attendance for the 81 home games in their own cities.
Some displaced fans may be within driving distance, but the point is one that needs to be considered. Las Vegas would need dozens of flights per series that don’t exist to accommodate this prediction.

“Baseball is different than the NFL,” Roger Noll, professor of economics emeritus at Stanford University, tells USA TODAY Sports. “This notion that of those 162 baseball games, I've got to see those three that are between the A's and the Royals in Las Vegas - it's just nonsense, right? It's not true, it's not going to happen.
“That's the fundamental reason why economists, when they do research on the impact of sports teams, typically find that the effect on local incomes and employment is slightly negative.”

But what about job creation?

Noll says the hours that stadium workers put in – for 81 games a year – computes to roughly 15% of a full-time job.
“So the 500 people who work at the stadium on game day, you got to multiply that by .15 to get the number of full-time equivalent jobs, which means it's less than 100. Wow,” says Noll. “You know, $1.5 billion to create less than 100 jobs, right? Wow.”

The A's were a top-5 team in 2022.
Not on the field. The A's finished with a 60-102 record, second-worst only ahead of the Washington Nationals. On the spreadsheets though, they netted $62.2 million according to a report from Forbes. The only teams they finished behind were the revamped Seattle Mariners who made the playoffs for the first time in two decades, the San Francisco Giants, the Boston Red Sox, and the Baltimore Orioles who had a Mariners-esque upswing and an A's-esque payroll.

At least a few rival MLB club owners are annoyed at the Athletics for conducting a major fire sale to enhance their bottom line soon after being added as a new revenue-sharing recipient in a vote by owners.
“The idea of revenue sharing is not to make money, it’s to field a competitive team,” one rival owner complained Thursday during the owners’ meetings at MLB headquarters in Midtown. “That money is supposed to go toward player salaries. [The A’s] took the money and put it in their pocket.”
Yet another owner, also upset that the A’s didn’t use the money to buy new players, but instead did the opposite and sold three major stars and drastically cut their payroll, referred to the franchise generally as “a mess.”

Out of the 29 MLS teams, the Earthquakes rank 21st in guaranteed player compensation and base salary, both on a per-player and teamwide basis.
The Earthquakes’ average salary came in at $434,079, nearly $100,000 lower than the overall average salary for an MLS player ($530,467). San Jose’s total spending ($13.022 million) comes in at more than $2.8 million below the average team spending across the league (15.822 million).
It’s a continued trend for the Quakes, even after they moved into the state-of-the-art PayPal Park in 2015. The Earthquakes have consistently ranked in the bottom half of the league in spending, per Spotrac, even as the MLS has continued to add new expansion teams over the years.
Earthquakes spending rank in MLS by year
· 2015 (20 teams) — 15th
· 2016 (20 teams) — 11th
· 2017 (22 teams) — 16th
· 2018 (23 teams) — 19th
· 2019 (24 teams) — 19th
· 2020 (26 teams) — 17th
· 2021 (27 teams) — 24th
· 2022 (28 teams) — 22nd
· 2023 (29 teams) — 21st
That has been reflected in on-field results, too. Since the Earthquakes moved into their new home, they have never finished a season with more wins than losses — the closest they came was in that first year, at 13 wins, 13 losses and eight draws.

“I won’t forget what they did to us in Oakland. They squatted on a lease for 10 years and made it impossible for us to build on that stadium,” the Raiders owner said in a phone chat Thursday afternoon, referring to the stadium the A’s and Raiders once shared, the Oakland Coliseum.
“They were looking for a stadium. We were looking for a stadium. They didn’t want to build a stadium, and then went ahead and signed a 10-year lease with the city of Oakland and said, ‘We’re the base team.’”
…
Davis was asked if he could envision an environment where the Silver and Black would cross-promote with the green-and-gold Las Vegas Athletics.
“Not with that management group,” Davis said. “I just have, again, a lot of personal animosity toward the front office. But with a new management group? Absolutely.”

submitted by BigBlueMagic to vegaslocals [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 03:32 sgtjoy Along for the ride continued

Jesus ran like a scalded dog to Barsun’s apartment. This was a matter of urgency because the most precious commodity in the universe had been pilfered. Someone had stolen a SOUL from the Guf (in other words they had a real shitshow on their hands.) This was no mere Brink’s hold up. It was beyond imagining. It was unprecedented and it was a complete and utter surprise. The fact that he passed Shiva, Ghandhi (just an advisor) and Buddha (same) demonstrated to him that the wheels have fallen off the cart. Thor called him down and told him that he had not one soul to have escaped Valhalla. Jesus couldn’t outrun the news it seemed, and he was divinely hauling ass. I guess news travelled faster than his divine feet in a set of Crocs could carry him. When asked he would later admit that they were not in fact good running shoes.
There was a soul missing from the Guf. The warehouse of all souls. This same missing soul was now occupying one electronic being. They had no plans for this. In fact, Jesus was totally against artificial sentients with souls. Every God he knew felt the same way and, since he knew them all he also was aware they had not released a soul. This is not supposed to happen and had never happened. Everyone was terrified of one thing that he would not speak aloud and would not contemplate. That fact was badgering him every step. Someone had fucked up big time or someone is tampering with the whole shebang.
There was potentially someone more powerful than them. They weren’t almighty. Fuck. He needed a stiff drink and a blunt. Desperately. Barsun may have had 8 legs and 8 eyes and the basic appearance of a Trilobite, but he had the easiest of ways about him. When Barsun walked into a room everyone calmed down. The Ytrillians assumed it was Barsun entering the room. Later on modern Ytrillians had attributed this common occurrence to pheromones. Thing is this: it was indeed Barsun entering the room. Pheromones had dick to do with it. He was Jesus’ best friend and the first he turned to outside the Father. Jesus had even discussed things with Quetzalcoatl, and he could not figure exactly how this could of happened either. None of his souls were missing. Jesus already knew this, but the formality had to be observed.
Jesus walked to the door and kept trucking as Barsun opened it at just the right moment. Something was different in the flat and he knew instantly. He was jealous enough that it broke his train of thought. “Where did you get all of the blacklight posters and beads? There was a poster of the 23rd psalm. He walked up to it and read Yea thou I walk through the shadow of death…..pretty much standard except at the end ….For I am the meanest motherfucker in the valley. He began to laugh raucously. “I must have one of those. Now.” Barsun moved to take it down and roll it up for Jesus to take with him. That is how close they were. “I can’t take it but I will get one with no problem. Where did you get it?”
Barsun replied “eBay.”
Jesus was stunned truly and looked at the God and said “You are cheating on Goodwill. You are committing retail adultery. I cannot believe you did that.” Barsun replied “Well you use Amazon.”
He had him there. It just seemed inconsistent with everything else in the flat having come from Goodwill. It just wasn’t right.
Barsun indicated a Bean bag chair for Jesus. He reclined in the same. Given his body type it was amazing how some furniture made for humans was so useful to him. There was going to be a brisk trade springing up in the next two years. Things were about to get interesting for a few sentient races and He was excited for them.
Barsun inhaled through his eight spiracles and stated. “I know about the Guf. And no, it is not an accounting error. I know. This simply cannot be. No one else had access and Gods were diligent and cautious with the souls under their care. However impossible it is clear: It is a fact.
They weren’t at the top of the food chain. Or were they? There were….implications here……
Jesus asked out loud the question. “If we aren’t the ones in overall control then who are we?” Barsun knew the question was coming and he had thought it through. “We are the exact same beings we have always been. Able to do tremendous amounts of good for the most part. We have not changed. I do think it curious that none of us saw this coming as well.” He paused before he continued; thinking how disturbing and exciting this news was. For once they had a surprise and the thought thrilled him that something just upset his view. And for the first time ever he had felt fear. It was exhilarating. It was the best thing to happen ever. He continued “ Someone tweaked the system. However, I am not afraid because of one thing. I sense no wrongness around the event. Nothing unusual has gone down and no one has died, the universe is whole. If it hasn’t caused any problems, then what are we concerned about? Only thing I can come up with is Ego.”
Jesus knew he was right. He did not want to think about it, but he had the exact same experience. He looked at Barsun and knew he too had felt the same emotions. They were both thrilled.
Onboard the HRMS Saratov in Luna Orbit.
Yuri was sitting at his station in the number one chair. People had been calling him number one behind his back. It was a very very very old joke that apparently had more staying power than a tattoo. It just never went away on it’s on. He was running the optimal plot outbound from Sol. They were moving Sub Light at 0.2C enroute to designated warp space. The scientist did not like it when warp drives threw off their Cesium clocks. There is a reason they were protected. They were everywhere and were critical to accurate computing. Not being a programmer himself, he had no real grasp of why. He just followed regs and the Terran Space Treaty of 2225. There were places to depart and places to return. Both had to be strictly adhered to as vessels coming out of warp would have massive radiation bow waves that had to be dissipated in a safe direction. It only took one event where 23,000 Luna colonists died as a result of poor judgement for the players to get a treaty together. Meanwhile the killer of so many had paid the price for his arrogance. His first officer had warned him that it was going to happen. Out of just pure Ego thousands of lives were lost. They could have prevented it. They were required to study such disasters in training but one story stuck in his head and he never forgot it. He could remember the major players involved and he had written a paper on it in His academy days. He remembered the details of the Tenerife disaster very well . Over 500 people killed by hubris and not a little incompetence.
He had started down this line of thought after he had looked at the final roster of nations in the flotilla. This was not unusual as Earth’s forces were fully integrated with common technology and ships. All drive hardware and power systems were identical to their counterparts. They worked as a whole to such a degree that there was really only one fleet. The Terran fleet. They all liked the sound of it. Political boundaries on Earth hadn’t moved for slightly more than two centuries. Not one inch. Turns out that nearly free energy was a great equalizer and the key to a post scarcity civilization. Who would think it?
It all came down to teamwork. There were Corvettes from Cuba The CSS Havana and the CSS Holguin. The pride of the human fleet the IRNS Vikrant was going as well. The admiral felt honored. The George Washington from the New England Confederacy and the SSS Atlanta from the Southern Democratic Republic were also on hand. One thing Yuri did not understand; why would The Northeastern Confederacy and The Southern Democratic Republic not unify. Their fleets were fully integrated and there was an open Border along Virginia that was un defended. Passports worked in both countries and there were no restrictions on residence. It worked for them. They weren’t fighting. The Middle Asiatic Republic sent the Karachi and the Kabul. Both were light carriers carrying a mix of MiG-29Z and F-15 Mk 82 Eagle fighter aircraft. They had little to do with their namesakes except for the identical aerodynamics. Primarily trans atmospheric fighters they were capable of brief spaceflight. The other significant difference besides the addition of reaction thrusters was the material they were made of. They consisted of a Ceramic Graphene matrix that could withstand the temperatures of reentry. The whole concept of stealth had gone away with the advent of gravimetry. So; Why reinvent the wheel? Pick something optimized for aerodynamics without regard to stealth features. Today fights were won by the best missileer and gunfighter. You could not hide. So best be the most optimal aircraft. Besides: Stealth was slow. Top speeds of aircraft dropped during the brief stealth era. Averages were back over Mach 2 now since speed was life for a fighter pilot.
Why pick the MiG29 and the F-15? They were the pinnacle of aerodynamic performance. There has been little to no new knowledge about aerodynamics to come out since those times. They were manufactured via vapor deposition 3D printing. A molecular composite they were strong and had reduced radar cross sections. Armed with a mix of missile and cannon they delivered quite a bit of firepower and were more than a match for any invading spaceborne forces. These fighters would destroy drop ships by the hundreds. Some even wanted to bring back the MiG-21. It would make a lot of sense.
Humans have the Ruslan (his personal favorite) trans atmospheric transport or the C-301 Starlifter. Both aircraft had mixed mode propulsion with highly refined cero-ferrous gas turbines. They were capable of both open or closed cycle operation. Smaller countries often used refurbished secondhand equipment from other countries for a small fee. This made certain there were adequate forces to bear and that all participated. It was in everyone’s best interest. No one wanted some weakling holding their flank.
Both the Ruslan and Starlifter transports were good at different things as the Ruslan carried large payloads but was inefficient in transport atmospherically whereas the Starlifter was great at theater transport but had a smaller payload. This is why it was a mix of these two aircraft. They were complementary. Many think there is a great rivalry going on between the two countries, but both had each other’s technology as well. It was convoluted but both countries ultimately had the same master. They work together. It may be anticompetitive, but it also was efficient. Yuri continued to think along this veia until he heard the Ship’s AI speakeing to the Admiral. “Something terrible has happened.” What do you mean Jezz?” Jezz replied to him “I do not know but I can feel tragedy. I am sick with it what has happened. The Admiral told her to “Get on the web and see what is going on?” “I am Sir and I can find nothing.” The Admiral looked to Yuri and gave him the Conn. Something was about to go to shit and Yuri knew it. He could sense it to. Fortunately the Bridge was deserted and no one else heard the exchange. The crew were running battle simulations from the CIC. Thank God for small favors.
45 minutes later a graviton packet arrived with news that was indeed terrible. He was the only one to know it too. The Galileo had been lost with all hands. They had just recovered the emergency buoy that had warped in. They had been attacked and the Admiral knew who had done it. Or at least thought he did. An AI had killed 50 innocent unarmed souls (that were spying I know) that could not fight back. They had raked them with Maser Fire. He pinched the shit out of himself. In fact, he left a bruise but all it did was confirm what he already knew: shit was about to get real up in here.
First thing was to compose himself as he had to determine who if any crew had family on the ship. This included some 8,000 people of all ratings from anywhere in the squadron. He had one very difficult personal notification he would have to make. Captain Pearls brother Nico was on the Galileo.
This was all so tragic but there was one thing that kept forcing its way to the forefront of his mind and he could not ignore it. How did she know? How did Jezz feel this precognitively? This actually did scare him and if he thought too much about it he would start to feel very queasy. This was outside his skill set. He did not know if this was technological, spiritual or philosophical but he could say this: none of those disciplines actually fit the situation.
It was all a bit much. He had to go to the Atlanta. He spoke to the bridge. “Full stop fleet and await further instructions.” “Aye Aye Sir.” Up in here.
Aboard the SSS Atlanta. A tall dignified black man wearing his dress blues and a gold ring on his left hand that you could hardly read. He had worn it a century. His was the same uniform he had 20 years ago. He could still wear it and he was proud of that fact. His only regret was the fact he had yet to have a family until 10 years ago when he had adopted his son Chris. They were inseparable but Chris was 5 thousand light years away give or take and that made him anxious. And now he had to let someone he held dear that her family was changed forever. He smelled of Hoyt’s cologne and peppermint. He went to her quarters. The lighting was somber and it was dead silent in there. Couch was empty but there she was in a sway back chair it had lots of gold leak and was nicely carved. He had found her crying. She already knew and he was going to shitcan someone when this was over. Then he realized what had happened. How had she known? She had sensed him and she had known it was bad.
He still had to tell her.
By the time he was back on the Capatob he was spent. It was all he could do to restrain her. She was enraged and was out for blood. He had never sensed such fury. Someone had fucked around and now they were going to find out. He had talked with her an hour and she seem to be calmer, but he was going to have to watch her. He knew how she was. There were stories that were all no doubt true. She was a legend and would go down as one of the greatest hermaphrodite to ever live. They were going places and the shit was on. And now there was an unfortunate motivation. That was a dangerous combination right there. Make it personal and logic can go out the window. Make it personal and there will be no civility in victory. She was just the kind of human that was the perfect storm squared. The puddle of gasoline and someone flipped a match. It was a very volatile mix.
He was a bit of a cynic and a practical man. If she wanted to go there he would let her. She would either be a hero or a Martyr. He was perfectly OK with that. Being a practical man it also served his other purpose. She would eclipse him in the history books. At least he hoped so. He did not want his hands on this. The first contact situation with the twist of a western and an incalculable amount of science fiction had indelibly marked the mind of every member of the Greater Terran Fleet. They had read all of the possible scenarios from every Sci Fi author. If you pressed them they would finally admit it. The fleet really liked Heinlein. They had been trying to get at least a Heinlein corvette on the roster for years. They had thus far been unsuccessful. They needed a champion for the cause and they were trying to get One Fleet Admiral to order it to be. The Admiral took some joy in tormenting them. He was going to help them out but he was milking it for a favor. That was going to come in handy. “You can have your Heinlein but I am going to need this in return”. He was just being practical. All good commanders were excellent manipulators after all.
It is plain as day and the idea of a Heinlein proves my point but there was an even bigger more academic question that eclipsed all others. Who was right? Who came closest? No one would talk about it but they were all thinking the same thing.
The Admiral broke a taboo and called it out. He felt it was time. They needed a little friendly wager and a reason to get through the battle. They were going to have a pool where everyone had to pick the author. They buy in was just 5 UCreds. If you don’t live through the battle you cannot win. So: don’t die. Who came closest to the real thing? Which author or story came close to what was about to happen.Once a story was picked it was dead to all others. There was potentially some reward in alacrity. He knew it was a bit of a sucker’s bet since someone had to judge wo was closest and this would be highly subjective and entirely his decision. (Author’s note: I am a veteran of the US Army with several deployments around this dirt ball. I can say the military is the most Fascist organization around today. It has to be. Paradoxically it is the most “fair” in that everyone gets treated the same: like shit.) At least it would be a distraction and would give them something else to focus on. He had a very bad feeling about this. They were going to go in and kick the doors in on an alien civilization. They were going to war. No one would admit it, but everyone knew it. This was not to be discussed. That was an order. This is an exploratory rescue mission answering a distress call.
Vegan Fleet Academy Alpha Centauri B. 6, June 62425 Gregorian.
Planetary Admiral Kenneth Alexander looked out on a sight he never thought he would see. Lots of young people sitting politely in their chairs listening to what he had to say. He wrote the fucking book. There it was on the lectern right in front of him. He had written a book on astral navigation to make a little extra cash and because there was an over reliance still on electronic means to navigate. Sailors needed to be able to navigate in any situation with a sextant, a star map database and gravimaetric readings without the need of an AI or targeting computer (Insert Star wars joke here). The book could have been half as thick in his opinion but the publisher insisted he needed a little more explanation. The Admiral gave students too much credit. He truly felt it should be taught in grade school. He was called a fanatic when he suggested that kids on track for Ensigns should have had basic instruction. His argument being that Ensigns started service in the year in which they turned sixteen. That meant there were some 15 year-olds in the mix. Start teaching them early. They should show up to basic already familiar with side arms and rifles. He was a fanatic.
As far as that damned accursed book goes the fact he had 500 copies actually printed and bound meant there were few of them around, but sitting right about center in of the second row sat a copy of his book. He felt like the guy who saw the first unicorn. He never saw one in the wild before and this book was well worn. It was 50 years old after all but printed on plastic synthetic paper and woven fiberglass for silicone bindings held together with silicone adhesives meant that the damn things were waterproof and actually quite practical. The book required no batteries and even had a quick and dirty position fix protocol in a special section. This particular specimen wasn’t falling apart, this one was just worn out.
The way he carried the book was clear. He was oblivious of the significance. He had found it in a used bookshop for free. They were using it as a doorstop, and they just gave it to him. He had become engrossed by it and at 13 years of age he was finishing his PhD. The admiral sensed this in a psychic flash and pulled back he had poor control still. He was never going to get used to the change “OK everyone come on let’s get back to it the party is over. We have to finish this section and then we will get out of here. There is no class tomorrow so we will have the Parade of the Caisson tomorrow with Captain James Cook on interspecies governmental relations…. Someone was tapping on his shoulder getting his attention. She could have all of it. She whispered way too close for someone who did not prefer women but about perfect for him. He was in the latter camp. “We need you to speak tomorrow sir Captain Cook had a equipment malfunction over Hawaii and is delayed Sir. Pleeeease Sir?” With just enough breathiness that it made him jittery. He was an old perv. He was just that way. The lady in question was 100 years old however but, maybe it was still cradle robbing? He just had a thing for Afro’s in the natural state. It was distracting.
“Godddamnitalltohellwhatinthefuckdoyouwant?” This was a perfectly reasonable thing to say. He had just been asked to do the one thing he vowed to never do again. They wanted him to speak and air his opinions? This is the most dangerous thing you can do in society. He had no politics per se’ beyond one or two things. He was a professional and he would do his job as long as the checks kept coming. He was not a politician and he did not like politicians, of any stripe. What he had learned was ironclad. Never be honest or always be truthful. Pick one or the other was his personal philosophy. He always chose honesty when he needed to hide a truth. No one believed the truth. No one believed the truth because they were put off by it. He always thought back to when he was 12 or so when he got ribbed and harassed about masturbation. His uncle Gerry was kind of a cruel fuck and liked to torment him. He Gerry asked him if he was J.O’ing a dozen times a day or something. He had replied “That is about right.” This had brought down the room and gotten great laughs and Gerry quit running his mouth at him. Fuck you Gerry. You little bitch. In his opinion the media obfuscated everything not by making up lies but by omitting certain facts to fit their agenda. No one took major media seriously. The only objective newspaper he was aware of was the National Enquirer. Yeah I know it sounds stupid but it is true. Reality was anything but and people had come to be comfortable being lied to and even preferring it. All of this is roiling in his head and he has been put on the spot to boot. Add to that the fact that at least some of the outburst was audible. No one seems to have heard it, however. This settles the age-old question. It was only said if it was heard. No one heard the statement therefore…….. The mental gymnastics weren’t that bad. He could deny it. It happens. But he still had to give an answer .“What is in it for me?” Jannel the beautiful woman replied “absolutely nothing sir. This will not benefit you in any way and may once again be picked apart. As such I would advise against doing it. Still I am asking you. My ass is in a vise and the DEAN is having a temper tantrum so I feel like I am being spitroasted by the devil and a lamp post in a not so good way, but I would consider it a great personal favor if you will do this despite your misgivings and likelihood of misadventure.” So fast and so well enunciated.
“Sure. I will do it. Goddammit.” Honesty must be rewarded.

submitted by sgtjoy to HFY [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 02:47 DifferentDisaster587 Free syk 🦅🔓 Feds sent him to West Virginia 🤦🏿‍♂️

submitted by DifferentDisaster587 to FromDuvalToDade [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 02:27 zackeatos Ebay seller support phone number?

Anyone has eBay seller support phone number i can contact them at skype? these are the numbers i tried, but most of them are for buyers and requires order id!
+18666431607
+18669619253
+18003586553
+18444322891
+18665403229
thank you.

submitted by zackeatos to Flipping [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 01:48 drpeppersnorlax My temporary theory and introduction.

Hello everyone. Thank you for providing a place for discussion on this topic. I see that the RDI theory is not popular here and I am okay with that. I say this is my temporary theory because I am not 100% convinced of this…while I am pretty sure, based on my findings, I am open minded and willing to take in new information.
I am still learning the acronyms so I’ll explain in detail my thoughts and I am curious if there are other Reddit members here who are also in line with my theory as well?
I don’t think anyone murdered jonBenet or premeditated her death.
I think it was an unfortunate accident. A true freak accident whether anger was involved or not. I think JonBenet was thought to be dead when she was not dead, due to being unconscious. I think a family member thought the best course of action was to stage the death for the police so they would not be held accountable for this unfortunate accident. For this, I do not fault them. They just lost their child and they were wanting to heal and move on the best way they knew how to. Not everyone reacts the same to a shocking traumatic event like this. I think patsy wrote the note. I think John Ramsey helped coordinate the operation and supported his wife.
RDI is not exactly what I think. RD the staging and note to cover the accident. That is my theory now.
I have heard many different stories on the different DNA. I am in favor of the genetic testing they want to do.
I apologize in advance if I upset anyone with my opinions. I try to be sensitive to others point of views and I try my best to be polite.
I admit, I have not read the ramseys book and I would very much like to. I am most interested in any case files, police reports or documents. I love the interviews the most.
I like John Ramsey very much. He was very protective and supportive of his family, especially his wife. I admire that very much.

submitted by drpeppersnorlax to JonBenet [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 01:02 meet_me_at_the_barre [On Patrol: Live] Live Thread June 3, 2023

Welcome to the live thread for Saturday, June 3rd, 2023

Banner
Hosts: Dan Abrams, Sean "Sticks" Larkin, and Curtis Wilson
Episode Description: Hosts Dan Abrams, retired Tulsa Police Department Sgt. Sean "Sticks" Larkin, and Deputy Sheriff Curtis Wilson provide analysis as law enforcement officers on patrol across the country are followed in real time. Show airs from 9pm - 12am EDT
Tonight's lineup: Volusia County Sheriff’s and Daytona Beach Police - FL; Wilkes-Barre Police - PA; Beech Grove Police - IN; Nye County Sheriff’s - NV; Toledo Police - OH; Richland County Sheriff’s and Berkeley County Sheriff’s - SC

Fun Stuff:

We have a Discord server to chat about the show and bingo!
On Patrol: Live Bingo! Play bingo as you watch! Made by one of our own: BwanaRob

Important Stuff:

Suicide is no joke. Your life is worth living. If you or someone you know is having suicidal thoughts please get help. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is available. Call or text 988
Your local hospital requires donor blood to give people in need the best chance at life. The need is constant, as there is always a shortage. You can find a blood drive here or by calling 1-800-733-2767
Reminder: Do not post personal information of people featured on the show. This includes Google street views, LinkedIn profiles, Facebook, arrest reports, etc...

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2023.06.04 00:52 mingkee Roll Call Jun 3, 2023

submitted by mingkee to OnPatrolLive [link] [comments]

2023.06.04 00:45 chuckodonovan Florida mom accused of leaving kids in car that caught fire while she was allegedly shoplifting

June 3, 2023, 2:13 PM EDT
By Julianne McShane
A Florida woman is facing two felony charges after allegedly leaving her two children in a car that caught fire while she was allegedly shoplifting, leaving one child with first-degree burns, court records show.
Police arrested Alicia Moore, 24, of Orlando on charges of aggravated child neglect and arson after flames engulfed her car, trapping her children inside, while she was allegedly shoplifting inside the Oviedo Mall on May 26, according to the arrest report obtained by NBC News.
Moore allegedly left her kids inside the 2016 Lincoln around noon that day, while she and an "unknown male" allegedly headed inside Dillard's department store and spent about an hour shoplifting, according to the arrest report. When she was leaving the store, she saw her car "engulfed in flames" and "dropped the stolen merchandise" and fled the store, the report states.
The car was "completely totaled" by the flames, the report states. One child tried to escape the car, and bystanders ultimately helped rescue them before they were rushed to Arnold Palmer Children's Hospital. One child suffered "several first degree burns," including on her face and ears, according to the arrest report. The children's ages are unknown.
When interviewed by police, Moore "stated only her biographical information" and requested an attorney, the report says.
The Seminole County Sheriff's office arrested Moore on an unrelated outstanding warrant, and charged her with aggravated child neglect and arson related to the May 26 incident while she was in custody that same day. (She also faces charges of petty theft and assault and battery on a person over 65 years old in Sumter County, about 55 miles west of Orlando, according to the jail record.)
The arrest report states while the cause of the fire is unknown, Moore's neglect contributed to the children's injuries and "the fire occurred during the commission of a felony by Moore," hence the charges she is facing.
Moore's bond is set at $20,000 and her arraignment is set for June 27, court records show.
She entered a not guilty plea on Friday. Her court-appointed attorney could not immediately be reached.
It was not immediately clear how much prison time she could face if convicted. Representatives for the Seminole County Sheriff's Office and the Oviedo Police Department could not immediately be reached Saturday.

submitted by chuckodonovan to ThatChapter [link] [comments]

2023.06.03 23:59 Lipbalmbabe Today me (26F) and my co-worker (31M) broke up

I don't know the purpose of this post. Perhaps to vent? Get my feelings out? Reassurance? Or maybe just some strong words to push me through.
Basically, for the past 6/7 months I developed a great friendship with one of my co-workers. We don't work in the same departments and he works full time in the office while I WFH full time, The friendship consisted of the occasional chat through social media, having a laugh on works nights out and sometimes the sharing of a funny meme - nothing untoward.
Then earlier this year (5 months ago), my relationship with my ex broke down and shortly after (unrelated - or so I thought) so did his. From then on, communication between us increased as we both started to bond over our recent breakups and tried to find positives in day to day life. This turned into regular phone calls, facetimes, constant texting and even nights out together (not work related). Eventually it turned into night time drives, and then evenings in front of the TV, At this point - nothing romantic between us happened. Then, on a night out he confessed to having feelings for me for some time and that was partly why he split up with his ex. This took me very much by surprise. Anyways, after that we began hanging out even more - and I started to develop feelings. This was around 3 months ago.
It became very passionate between us very quick and on a few occasions I asked if it was just a "lust" thing and nothing more - I was told it was not lust. We actually got on really well and had lots of similar interest and life views, always laughing about something or constantly updating one another about something that just happened in our day, However, given both our fairly recent breakups we agreed to keep things platonic and make sure nothing serious happened, because neither of us wanted that just yet. He also had a habit of suddenly ghosting me for a few days because as he put it "he kept overthinking things".
Maybe a month ago, I found out he was on a dating app and I got jealous - a feeling I really don't like. And given the great relationship that was developing between us I hated the fact he was perhaps looking elsewhere and so I voiced this to him and communicated that I felt things were going well between us and I wanted to slowly pursue what was happening. He agreed, and the dating apps stopped. A few weeks after this, and having known each other for some time and getting along great - he asked me to be his girlfriend and we agreed for now to keep it between us in the office, so as to remain professional, but out with it was fine. We booked lots of gigs together, our friends and family were aware and I was genuinely really happy that we could slot into each others lives.
This was a week and a half ago, during which time something happened which made me quite uncomfortable. He was round one evening and said he had something he wanted to tell me, which was that his neighbour (F) had asked for his number. What struck me was the way he said it to me, like almost half smirking. I asked if he gave it to her and he replied "yes" but in a very like "I shouldn't have but I did" way - hard to describe. I asked him why, and he said it was peace of mind, which I totally get but I also told him I didn't feel comfortable with that because they lived next to each other for years and she didn't ask for his number when he was with his ex - only now she knew they weren't together. He then tried to reassure me, telling me he had text her that night to say he was staying at my house and she could use his parking space- I challenged this, and when he tried to prove it he realised he hadn't in fact said that to her at all. HMMMM
Anyways, communication patterns rapidly changed a couple of days after this. He started to take hours to reply and when he did - it was clear he wasn't interested in talking because it was either one word answers or just no answer full stop (despite him coming on and offline ALOT). I also picked up that conversations were very much about him and how he was and about his day - he never asked me anything about mine or how I was. This upset me because just this week we had the most incredible date, and now this? This began to bother me so I phoned him 3 days ago and brought it up and asked if we were OK. He reassured me that we were fine and that he was just very busy and that a big project would be coming in which meant possibly for the next 3 weeks he would be even more busy... too busy to even talk to me?
Fast forward 2 days later - today, and it was 24 hours since I last text him and no response. I was angry because I had told him the lack of communication was frustrating me and that I was worried about us. I was meant to see him last night and he said he would let me know, I never heard from him. So I decided to text him this morning about perhaps seeing each other tonight, but I had a gut feeling he wouldn't be available. Sure enough, a few hours later he responded to say he had something on tonight that he had forgotten about. No offers of another time to see me, just "Sorry!" and I just knew instantly he wasn't interested anymore. So I text him pretty much offering him an out of the relationship because I wasn't accepting nothing from him anymore. I would accept tired, I would accept busy - but I wouldn't accept nothing or inconsistencies. He phoned me shortly afterwards to briefly say that he had checked out, his head wasn't in it and that he could no longer commit to me. I told him I didn't understand, had his feelings just gone away? Was he lying to me on Wednesday when he said we were fine? To which I was told he didn't have the time to get into it. WOW. So I told him to enjoy his day and hung up.
That was this morning and I have heard nothing since. No text to say sorry or to check if I am ok.
I am confused, angry, doubting everything, hurt and have so many questions. I really opened myself up to him and told him fears, dreams and other things I had only ever kept to myself. He knew, given past relationships, I was always scared of being unwanted (I have been cheated on previously) and swore he would never do anything to make me feel that way... but now he has.
So here I am, sat alone on a Saturday night with hurt and confused feelings and a bottle of wine.. I feel a sense of calm, if you can call it that, because the feelings of confusion I have felt all week about what he was doing, why wasn't he talking to me etc. have gone, but now I am filled with anger as to WTAF?!
**TL;DR;** : My co-worker broke up with me today

submitted by Lipbalmbabe to BreakUps [link] [comments]

2023.06.03 23:59 Moses_Horwitz California Spent $17 Billion on Homelessness. It’s Not Working.

WSJ article (pay wall).
https://www.wsj.com/articles/california-homeless-population-oakland-wood-street-encampment-78d42cc3

OAKLAND, Calif.—City firefighters arrived midmorning at a homeless camp on Wood Street to quell a fire spreading across a tinderbox landscape of discarded furniture, debris, abandoned cars and dwellings fashioned from tents, tarps and plywood.
Fire crews struggled for more than two hours. There weren’t enough hydrants because no one was ever supposed to live on the stretch of dirt that snaked beneath Interstate 880, the freeway connecting Oakland and San Jose. Yet over six years, the property had become home to more than 300 homeless people—addicts, the mentally ill and those unable to get a grip on Bay Area housing with a warehouse job or a construction gig.
The fire last summer spit thick black smoke that temporarily halted commuters. Soon after, the California Department of Transportation, which owned most of the land, announced it would start tearing down the makeshift shelters. The July 11 fire appeared to have done what state and local officials had failed to do—force a decision to clear the camp.
A monthslong legal and bureaucratic battle followed, in a display of the humanitarian, practical and political forces trying, with limited effect, to solve the urban homeless problem.
The number of homeless people in California grew about 50% between 2014 and 2022. The state, which accounts for 12% of the U.S. population, has about half of the nation’s unsheltered homeless, an estimated 115,000 people, according to federal and state data last year. It also has among the highest average rent and median home prices in the U.S.
...

submitted by Moses_Horwitz to seattlehobos [link] [comments]

2023.06.03 23:31 emptywithinyew Anyone recognize this family photo? Found on unidentified deceased male, July, 7th, 2000 in Seeley, California (Possibly Someone Whom Crossed The Border- USA/Mexico)

Anyone recognize this family photo? Found on unidentified deceased male, July, 7th, 2000 in Seeley, California (Possibly Someone Whom Crossed The Border- USA/Mexico)

Unidentified Person / NamUs #UP14755
Sex: Male, Race: Multiple
Date Body Found: July 7, 2000
Location Found: Seeley, California
County: Imperial County
Estimated Year Of Death: 2000
Estimated Age Range (Years): 30-50
Estimated Birth Year Range: 1950-1970
Estimated Height: 4’ 11” (59 inches) Hair Color: Black / Eye Color: Brown
The back of the photo has some writing and it is believed to say: "Rigoberto Chabes Gomes"
You can view the writing on the back of photo at this link below: https://imgpile.com/i/9lh1gj
Circumstances of Recovery: Located in an area frequented by migrants crossing through Mexico
Clothing On Body: black t-shirt with logo "501 is what astronauts wear under their space suits". Blue denim jeans. black leather belt, white buckle; pockets cut open. White socks. bikini style underpants with lepord-skin print on front
Footwear On Body: white athletic "Nike Air"
Direct Link To NamUs Case For Viewing: https://www.namus.gov/UnidentifiedPersons/Case#/14755?nav
If you have any information please contact: Imperial County Sheriff's Office- Coroner Division
Agency Case Number: 00-108 Main Phone: (442) 265-2105
Address: 328 Applestill Road El Centro, California 92243 / County: Imperial County
If you don’t feel comfortable contacting the agency yourself, no problem- you can message me anytime, with any information you might have and I’ll be more than happy to pass it along to the investigating agency all while making sure you remain 100% anonymous.

submitted by emptywithinyew to FindTheMissingMexico [link] [comments]

2023.06.03 22:55 autistic_strega Identity Theft, person trying to get a gun in my name

This morning I woke up to an email that was informing me of my next steps to applying for a concealed carry permit in NH. However, this was not me. I live in WA, know nothing about guns and never want to touch one.
This email had my real name and was sent to my correct email address. The email had a NH police department address listed so I searched the address, saw that it was real and called their phone number. I explained the situation and they transferred me to their gun department, which is closed on weekends but I left them a voice message and asked them to call me back.
After this, I got a phone call from my bank. My card info was stolen and there were fraudulent charges, one of which being an online payment to this conceal carry application. I got that sorted with my bank, card is frozen and transactions shouldn't go through.
After this I checked my email again to find I had two more emails regarding the conceal carry application. These two emails had some red flags to me.
The first was an email stating to forward it to whomever "I" had gifted a second concealed carry permit to. Now, I know nothing about guns, and I know the US is pretty relaxed about gun laws, but I don't think you can just gift someone a permit.
The second email was more of a promotional email about the company, YouCCW. In this email they state that they are fast at getting permits and "avoid government agencies and police stations". Again, I know nothing about guns, but I'm pretty sure in order to get licensed you have to go through government and/or police agencies.
So I search up the company, and they appear to be running a scam in which people pay a couple hundred dollars for a "permit" that's not actually legal. So whoever has stolen my card info attempted to get a conceal carry permit illegally.
I want to add that I have not clicked on any of the links in any of the emails I received, and do not plan to, just in case it is a phishing scheme.
My question is, what next steps should I take to ensure that my identity is protected and that there is nothing regarding guns, legally or illegally, attached to my name? Can the NH police department even do anything if the person who stole my identity didn't go through them to get the permit? Should I contact the police from my own state?
Any help would be appreciated, thank you.

submitted by autistic_strega to legaladvice [link] [comments]