Pleasant hearth fireplace doors phone number

As table setting, I haven’t listened to MBMBaM in three years, give-or-take, so I have no clue what the modren era (😎) of the show is like. However, I have been hate-listening to a movie podcast enough that I’ve actually turned a corner into liking it, so I feel spiritually ready for this. Plus I’m a little drunk, which has never been a bad decision for anybody ever.
0:00 - I’ve always kind of disliked the intro, especially the “cool baby” part, and sadly that has not changed with time.
0:20 - First time hearing the new theme song, which is fine if a little twee for my taste. I weirdly hate how they deliver the “1, 2, 3, 4” up top, but that’s just nitpicky. We can’t all be DeeDee Ramone, you know?
1:10 - Introductions. Travis introduces himself as “noted intellectual and middlest brother”, and Griffin just says “…And I’m Griffin… McElroy”. I didn’t laugh, but I did actually find that slightly funny, so I’m optimistic for how this goes.
1:35 - Justin has invented a new game that he wants to play called “Simply the Guests” where he tells them who guested on a celebrity’s podcast and they have to guess the celebrity. Travis points out that the title is a touching tribute (to Tina Turner, he clarifies a few seconds later) and there’s a bit where Justin and Griffin pretend not to know she died that Justin interrupts with a parody song. Is this too soon? I can’t tell, but I also only get my celebrity death news from Simpsons memes.
2:31 - I’ve had to pause and restart enough times that I’ve realized how shitty the web player is, since I have to click like three times before it registers as being on the page and actually trying to play instead of just highlighting the button, and if I try to click the 15 second rewind button it usually skips to the ~11 minute mark right above the button. However, I refuse to actually download the episode because if I do that, Jesse Thorne wins.
2:58 - Justin only has one round prepared, but expects it will take longer than they expect. Griffin rightly questions if it’s actually possible to play this game based on the information that will be provided. Travis says that sometimes when he comes up with a game, it’s like when you start off at level 1 fighting Sephiroth and die, but it just takes you to a cutscene and is all part of the game. I’m struggling to think of games he’s come up, which is maybe a metaphor for how I never finished FFVII. Justin says it should be easy if their heads are on a swivel, and 50-50 if they’re half paying attention.
4:30 - Justin is giving the guests in order as they’ve appeared: Billy Ray Cryrus, John Carter Cash, Billy Bush, Albert Pujols. Griffin laughs and makes a joke about how his head is on a swivel but it hurts, and I’m shocked and a little disappointed that it wasn’t a joke about how one of the greatest Cardinals of all time has a name that’s pronounced “Poo Holes”.
5:00 - The next guests listed Adam Carrolla, Clint Black, and Gary Busey. Travis incorrectly guesses Blake Shelton. Justin says Katie Couric was the next guess, and Griffin’s postulation of Kevin Sorbo is apparently pretty close.
6:10 - Dr. Drew is the next guest. Travis asks if they would be willing to guest, and Justin says he likes to think they’d have a nice long talk about it. Griffin guesses Randy Quaid. Justin neither confirms nor denies, but instead finishes listing the guests - Sharon Stone, Martin Short, Mike Lindell (the MyPillow CEO), Jim Brown, and Anthony Fauci. I actually kind of like this game, because what the fuck?
8:40 - Justin says he’ll give them an episode title for any celeb mentioned. Travis picks Sharon Stone, who covered “Pandemics, Social Justice Movements, and Animal Actors”. Griffin picks Pujols, who covers “Baseball, Downs Syndrome, and Living the American Dream”, and asked if there were other baseball players on the list.
10:05 - Justin admits he skipped Jimmy Morris because he didn’t know who that is. I didn’t either, but I have the power of Google and in the time it took him to explain why he was skipped, learned that he starting playing for Tampa Bay Devil Rays when he was 35 and The Rookie was based on him.
10:30 - Travis and Griffin discuss “Sorbo adjacent” celebrities and Justin scolds them for not talking to each other, saying that’s what a podcast is and that he’s trying to do a podcast. To paraphrase a joke from Jon Gabrus, it’s three straight white men talking, we already know it’s a podcast.
11:30 - Travis suggests Dennis Quaid, since he has a strong connection to baseball and Christ. Griffin agrees and Travis is in fact correct. Ironically, that means that Jimmy Morris was probably the most helpful clue, since Dennis Quaid starred in The Rookie. Justin offers a bonus for naming the show, and says it’s something with “Dennis”. Griffin accurately guesses “The Dennissance”.
13:45 - Justin mentions Morris was the titular rookie, and claims that people forget Dennis Quaid. They discuss the Quaid siblings a bit and advise Dennis to get back in the podcasting game.
15:15 - First question of the episode: “My boyfriend and I were looking for a bar before your Columbus TAZ show and walked by one that looked empty and not our vibe, but it had tinted windows so it was hard to tell. We walked to another bar and inside the door person flagged us down and said someone was looking for us. We were already inside this other bar when the woman who was working at the first bar said she saw us looking in and said “Please come into my bar - we have cheaper drinks. We were confused and startled and decided to stay at the bar we were already at, but we weren’t sure if we regretted it because this person went to the effort to chase us down half a block, cross a busy street, went through a revolving door to get to us. Also, the drinks at the bar were expensive. Should we have gone back to the other bar instead?” - Confused in Columbus. Not to brag, but I’ve been to a lot of bars in my lifetime and can say with some confidence this didn’t happen.
16:05 - They immediately answer that, no, they should not have gone back to the other bar. Travis accurately points out that weird pursuit aside, if they have that little business then 100% of the focus would be on them. Griffin thinks they would have had a tremendous amount of power and would get their drinks immediately, and the bartender might have cool stories. They discuss how bad the design of this bar is that it’s impossible to see inside, both because they crave attention and so that someone will notice in case they go missing.
18:45 - Travis says if he ran a restaurant across from another restaurant, he would go up to patrons at the competitor and try to lure them away. Apparently Tom Green did this with pizza delivery as a TV show, and Justin thinks he would have Shark Tank’d it if it was a viable option.
19:36 - Travis says Tom Green would’ve probably called it “Shart Tank”. I laughed out loud.
20:00 - Griffin says in Austin they basically have to have barkers for the various bars given the amount of competition for foot traffic and Justin thinks they should just go for hyper-local advertising.
21:00 - Travis offers Griffin an investment opportunity, claiming he needs angel investors. Justin is incensed that he isn’t offered the chance, and Griffin says it’s because he has no money but maybe his “crypto shit’s gonna pay off some day”. Justin says he doesn’t have “crypto shits unless I’ve been eating cryp-tacos” (Griffin pitches crypto-salsa) and that Superman hates cleaning up Krypto shits.
21:44 - Travis points out that Superman named his dog after a thing he hates. I swear this had to be a Seinfeld joke at some point, since the two things I know about Jerry Seinfeld are (a) he loves Superman and (b) he’s not funny. Actually, I know a third thing, which is that he dated a 17-year-old when he was 38. Anyway, fuck that guy.
21:50 - Travis pitches having a long stretch of connected bars by buying all the existing bars and knocking down the connecting walls. Griffin and Justin point out that’s essentially the Disneyland model, and Justin mentions the Goofy sour balls.
21:51 - I Googled “Goofy sour balls” and thankfully it was a real candy. Griffin indignantly says that they stopped making them and that “Goofy took his sour balls away”. Travis says “He washed them” and they ignore him. I laughed out loud again, man’s really winning me back. They continue on this riff, making more and worse versions of the same joke.
24:07 - Question 2: “I’m enrolled in summer college courses. In one of my classes, a guy in front of me likes to stretch backwards over his chair with his eyes closed. His head basically ends up right on my desk and he will breathe in my face. I’ve had to move my laptop to stop him from laying on it. Am I the weird one for staring at the guy as he disrupts all my belongings and my personal space? He does it more than five times a class. It’s very awkward and makes it hard to focus on the lecture. Should I say something? Help me brothers, how do I stop this stretching bandit from stealing my peace of mind?” - Cramped College Co-Ed in Canada.
24:57 - Justin has an immediate suggestion. I assume it’s the actual solution, which is to say something like an adult or just switch seats, but nope, it’s the old chestnut of put some jelly on it. Griffin suggests surprise massage. Travis clarifies that they’re definitely ignoring the “excuse me, could you not do that” option, which Griffin confirms because it’s not very funny. This takes me back to when I used to regularly listen, since part of the driving force for me stopping was the sheer number of questions that could be solved by two seconds of slightly awkward conversation. I totally get it, social anxiety is a bitch and I’ve absolutely been there, but the lack of funny kinda stems from the question. They all agree, and Travis suggests adding broken glass to the jelly.
26:57 - Griffins goes back to the massage suggestion, with “dual percussive massagers”. Justin suggests hovering over them and saying “There’s my sweet boy” and Travis suggests a “little kiss on the forehead” which, thankfully, they immediately shoot down. Still, I’m uncomfortable.
28:00 - Justin points out that, if someone actually followed the advice they give, the problem would be solved, it’s just a question of consequences. There’s some more discussion of the Quaids but my spirit is a little broken and I can’t bring myself to rewind to accurately transcribe any of it.
29:43 - Money Zone: Travis says, “Well Justin,” and Justin misidentifies him as Griffin. So far, hardest laugh of the episode. The ad is for Zocdoc, which Justin mispronounces a lot. I assume any service that advertises on a podcast is actually just a money laundering scheme, medical stuff doubly so, but it does remind me that MaxFun podcasts are the only ones where I can tell the ad copy was done in a single take with no edits. I admire it, in a way.
32:45 - A MaxFun ad for “Just the Zoo of Us”, which is apparently a podcast where they rate animals on their “effectiveness, ingenuity, and aesthetics”. It kind of worked on me, which is to say I’m debating the merits of getting a Zoobooks subscription as a childless woman approaching her thirties.
33:30 - A MaxFun ad for “Feeling Seen”, where the editor likes to play the game of taking a sip of coffee anytime the guest says how good a question is, how smart the host is, or cries unexpectedly. I cannot stress enough how much this makes me not want to listen. I don’t even have anything snide to say, I’m just genuinely put off by it.
34:19 - Griffin introduces the Wizard of the Cloud: How to “Talk Nerdy” to someone, which is meant to help you talk to the “cute nerd in your science class” by becoming more adorkable to them. Justin and Travis are disgusted by the word “adorkable”, which feels like a real split with their brand of appealing to mid-2010s Tumblr users.
36:00 - Travis points out that this article presupposes that nerdy people only want to be seduced with nerdy things, and will shun all other romance. The original pickup line is “Are you a carbon sample? Because I definitely want to date you. If you’ve seen The Big Bang Theory, you already know science and physics nerds are the best” Travis punches it up with “I’ve got a theory that we should Big Bang.” Currently he’s batting a thousand for me.
36:55 - Wikihow asks “Can math be sexy?” They talk about how sexy 8 is and Travis makes a 69 joke, so I retract my previous statement. There’s a gross astronomy-based pickup line saying “Do you mind if my comet enters your solar system” and “Hey, nice asteroids”. Mercifully, no “Can I touch Uranus?”
38:30 - More bad pickup lines, now about computers. Apparently “You’re hotter than the bottom of my laptop” is a good come-on. The video game lines are equally impressive, and Wikihow recommends that distracting gamers away from their games is easier said than done. These are more sexually charged than before, but no more clever.
43:30 - We’ve arrived at Star Wars. Wikihow says “Jedis are tough nuts to crack, so you may need to use the Force to woo them effectively.” It’s been a while, but I’m fairly certain Jedis aren’t allowed to fall in love and that’s kind of a whole thing with the prequel trilogy. Also, are we not doing phrasing anymore? Cuz Jesus, they should take a second pass at that.
43:46 - Wikihow suggests several “Yoda-approved pickup lines”, and they do some bad Yoda impressions like “pull down some trim, you will” and “wet, you will get”. This is apparently a thing they’ve done before called “Clipping Yoda”. Justin makes a “something something something, I thought they smelled bad on the outside” joke.]
46:08 - They discuss the very limited situations when the suggested “I find your lack of nudity disturbing” is acceptable, then move on to the Lord of the Rings lines which are equally questionable. Travis brings up the theory that Frodo doesn’t know Legolas’ name, and now I wanna rewatch LotR.
50:09 - Justin suggests coming up with their own lines, which results in “You make me feel like John Rhys-Davies in Sliders, cuz I wanna climb in those holes” and Griffin looking up “nerd movies”.
51:40 - Question 3: “My bank has been advertising a home ownership service to help folks buy and sell homes. I usually ignore them, but this time they’ve been offering a chance to win a flattop grill package with a $100 gift card to a very expensive butcher. I’ve been really wanting to get my dad a new grill. Brothers, I have no way of buying a house, let alone sell one. They’re contacting me, trying to help me buy a house. How do I explain to them I’m only entered to maybe win the grill and have no interest in the service?” From the Poor Hopeful in B (?).
53:00 - First of all. Second, they suggest the asker (a) admits they were only in it for the grill or (b) saying they have a budget of $750 for a furnished home. It devolves into a riff about Bobby Flay and pitches for “Flay Bobby Flay” and “Bob Bobby Flay” to see if he floats.
56:15 - Plugs for stuff and the end of the episode.
Closing Thoughts: I actually enjoyed that, although with a lot of stopping and starting to write this. Also anyone who likes Clipping Yoda may also like Action Boyz, because pedophile Yoda is a surprisingly rich vein to mine. I don’t think I’ll ever actually pick up listening again, since I have about 280 episodes of Off Book to get to first and this whole recap has made me really contemplate my mortality, but I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it

I started renting this house a few weeks ago. It was a nice 2 bedroom bathroom house with a 2 car garage and a sizable driveway. The grass was in very good health and the wooden fence was always painted a very bright and clean shade of white every few weeks. It was like a house from the 50s because it was. There was something charming about it, the wooden paneling, the porch with the backyard deck, the grill, the cozy little shack out back full of tools, and the lawnmower. I was allowed to rent this out for as long as I needed so I could write a report about a murder. One that happened in this very house in fact. All those years ago a couple lived here, they were crazy about each other. And some of the neighbors as well. For over 2 decades they poisoned, stabbed, and shot various other families. It was never clear why they did it or what motives they had.
In the very end, it was chalked up as pure insanity, a pair of psychopaths married together. They had a son and daughter, but the grandparents had taken them out of that household after finding out about the first murder, they kept quiet. This house has been turned into a sort of museum and rental space over the past few years. It was closed off to the public for over 3 decades but recently opened back up for people to look at. Turns out that renting out and giving tours of a haunted house was profitable.
Oh, I forgot to mention that it was haunted by the souls of the couple who killed those families back in the day. This was something I was having a hard time documenting in the report I was writing. I mean, come on, a haunted house? What the hell is this, a horror novel? I was dead wrong about it though. It all started one night when this one song started playing on a phonograph in the living room. It was Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka. I can't get it out of my head. It played over and over every night.
The nights would go the same way over and over. I would go to bed at around 10 PM. After that, the house would fall into an odd silence. The lights came on in the living room and that song would start playing itself. The movement of footsteps could be heard as they creaked against the hardwood floors.
"Please, come out and join us. It's quite a fine night.", a female voice would call out.
"Come now, be our guest, and take a seat out here. We'll drink tea and listen to the radio.", a male voice would soon follow up with the woman's voice.
It was not safe to get up and check it out, despite their words of assurance. Doing so could bring unknown results. It may have been safe, but something in my body told me otherwise. I would stay in bed until 6 AM, that's the time everything would fade away and turn to normal. Their little dance and music would go on all night, but I would still be able to sleep. While dozing off it seems like the music would go silent despite still playing. I guess their only goal at first is to draw you out.
It's been a few days of this before things took a step up. I've been hearing...people? It's almost like a party happened during the night hours. Again I find that I cease to hear it once I fall asleep. I guess these little events are mere attempts at giving incentives for me to leave the room rather than to torture me. Although every so often there'll be a knock on the door asking me to come out. It only lasts a second before the person walks away. They're very polite about it though and they don't stick around, merely ask me and then vanish once they don't hear an answer in 5 seconds.
During the daytime, I've been logging this information into my reports. I feel like I'm going insane slightly, these can't be real, right? I must be breathing some sort of hallucinogenic gas being pumped in here. Got the vents checked out, nothing wrong with them. They did need to be cleaned though so at least I had an excuse to get them worked on without looking like a crazy person. I never find a trace of this couple during the day. No shoes, footprints, altered objects, nothing. Not a single thing moved out of place or touched. Hell, things seem slightly cleaner in the morning. It may be the fact that I try to keep things as they are though.
I spend my days walking around the neighborhood. The people living around here are mostly millennials. The ones who either inherited these houses and chose to rent them out or live in them instead of selling them. Or renting them to cut down certain parts of the mortgage. I drive into the city and head to a coffee shop I like for a few hours. I leech off the free wifi so I can get my things done. There's free wifi at the house, but it's a gamble on the speeds and connection. I also like starting my day off with coffee and going about my hours getting cake and a few sandwiches.
It's now week 3 and I'm almost done. I was given 4 weeks before the deadline to make a report on this house so the people I work for can get some info. They're not exactly well informed since most of the people have either died, "killed themselves", or simply walked out after a few days. The only reason I've survived this long is that I read every last bit of data I could from both historical records and the half-assed papers people put together before throwing their badges to the side and working for another newspaper. I'm barely getting anything interesting so far aside from the fever dream of a stay I'm getting from this place.
These days during the third week have been weird. I wake up at the same time only to hear humming. Musical humming, no particular song, just random notes. This is the wife humming while making some sort of breakfast. Her name is Rose, and her husband is Clark. Can't believe I've been referring to them as the husband and the wife all this time. It changes during these days but it ranges from bacon and eggs to cereal and orange juice with toast to a full pancake breakfast. They got bigger and bigger every day. On day one I stayed in my room until the humming stopped. Only lasted for about 15-20 minutes. After that, I would check the kitchen to find a freshly cooked breakfast. Rose wasn't anywhere in sight though.
I was hesitant to eat it at first since I wasn't sure what would happen. But I was hungry that morning and didn't feel like making the drive to the city so early in the morning. The food was good and I didn't feel poisoned or anything. I would set the dishes in the sink and take a shower. Not even 15 minutes later after getting out of the shower and getting dressed, the dishes were washed, dry, and sitting in the cupboards. I'm honestly not sure why people have been dying or quitting this trip. So far I've stayed out of their way and never really messed with anything. I feel like a guest here and act as one which is probably the key here. You can't live here, merely stay for a certain amount of time. I don't know how long that time frame is though.
Week 4, these last 7 days are my final chances to wrap this up before the deadline. I am nowhere closer to finding out how these past journalists died, why this couple did what they did, or anything like that. The best I'm going to do is probably pump out a short guide on how not to die here. This week was the hardest. The haunting extends all day. You see, the morning would start off as normal like last week. Waking up, hearing the humming, waiting for it to stop, eating breakfast, putting the dishes in the sink, etc. The real difference is that they are now visible and active all day and night.
Clark spends his day sitting on an armchair reading a newspaper, funny detail is that the date of the newspaper follows our date, Only the month and day, not the year. He is always dressed in a white dress shirt with the top button left undone. Simple ironed black dress pants with a leather belt neatly wrapped around them. Brown leather shoes, more like loafers actually. The kind of dress shoes you slip on. They were always shined and clean. His right leg is on the floor with his left leg stretched over his right. The newspaper covered his face. The only thing that could be seen from the other side was the occasional cigarette smoke puffing up.
The cigarette never had a scent though, phantom tobacco, funny. Rose would be sitting on the couch most of the time either knitting, reading a magazine, or watching the TV. It was a large black and white tv, the outside made of hardwood, the thick glass of the display, and the antenna sticking out of the top. Can't miss those two large dials on it. There was always something different on TV, one moment it was a cooking show, the news, and even a Western movie. The volume was always able to be heard but sort of faint as well. Kind of like a sort of background noise you barely notice after a while.
It was not a good idea to verbally or physically interact with them in any way. Not even looking at them was an option. I've never seen either of their face outside of photos because I'm always staring at my phone, or laptop, even intentionally staring at the floor. The carpet was very pleasant to look at. They never spoke during the day. Rose would sometimes clean the house. Sometimes dusting, vacuuming, and even washing the dishes. I lied, I've caught small glimpses of their faces from reflections. They are in their young age from the 60s, the prime of their life right before the major kill streak.
I can't even explain any of this. This house could slowly be turning into a self-contained instance of time. But that wouldn't make sense since the wifi here works, my money is up to date, and my tech can be charged. A few of the outlets were swapped out for more modern ones. Only the ones not already connected to appliances or the TV itself. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner would always appear on the table at different times of the day. Breakfast at 6 AM, lunch at noon, and dinner at 6 PM. I would always eat in silence and put the dishes in the sink. I've tried rinsing the dishes before at least but the water never touched them. I don't know how to explain it, but I would turn on the water and it would just phase through the dishware. I gave up after one day.
Well, this is the final day. I'll be scheduling this report to send itself in a few hours. I don't even want to manually do it since I'm rinsing my hands off this worthless paperwork once I leave. There was one thing I wanted to check out though. I'm going to continue this bit on my phone.
I always wanted to check out the basement. I forgot that it even existed this whole time. The door wasn't blocked or locked at all luckily. The door opened just fine, but the lightbulb turned on for about a second before blowing out. It didn't actually explode, but the light sort of just flashed and burned out like a flashbang. The steps are quite loud as they creak. I'm not sure what this smell is, it's like a mixture of gas and...rotten meat?
The door just closed itself, the only light I have down here is from my phone flashlight. There's some kind of red puddle leading to a room down here. I'm not liking it. I'm writing this live so my boss can read this. Yes, I know, hard to believe I'm actually being productive.
This...this is blood. There's a body in here. No wait, multiple bodies down here. I can see dozens or even hundreds of flies just covering these bodies. I think I recognize some of the badges around the necks. All of these bodies smell fresh. Is time frozen down here or something?
...shit. There are footsteps coming down here. I'm squeezed behind a broken-down fridge, perhaps Clark will just give up his search in a few minutes. My 911 alert just failed. This one message will probably be the last thing that'll automatically upload. I think I just made a horrible mistake. I wasn't supposed to come down here. If you're reading this, please call for hel---
*Connection lost*
*Report upload incoming*
I recently got to rent out a home from the 60s. This house is famous because of a couple that used to live here from the 60s to the 80s. They were known for killing people and families during this time period before finally being caught by the police. These were the things I've learned during my stay in this house:
- During the first week there will be dancing. From 10 PM to 6 AM there will be activity in the living room. The couple will appear out there and dance to a song called Put Your Head On My Shoulder along with a few others.
- They will assure you that it's fine to come out and join them. Don't do it. I've never attempted so I don't know if anything happens, but trust your gut.
- During week 2 they will start hosting a "party". The sound of many people will come from the living room as if people have come over for the evening. Every few hours the door will knock as someone on the other end will invite you to join everyone.
- During week 3 the haunting will break into the day. During the morning the wife will be in the kitchen making breakfast, do not leave your room until she is done. You can use the bathroom, just don't look or enter the kitchen. You will hear her humming for about 20 minutes. Once it stops, you can go about your day. The food is perfectly fine to eat and is actually encouraged. Make sure you put your dishes in the sink.
- During week 4, if you've survived this long, they will roam the house 24/7. Do not make eye contact with either of them. They'll mainly stay in the living room. The husband sitting on the armchair reading a newspaper and the wife reading a magazine or knitting. Occasionally she'll clean the house. If you are going to be in the living room, keep your eyes low and do not verbally interact with them.
- If you do...I'm not sure. There have been reports of them killing people during this time. Acting hostile at them or trying to kill them will not end well. Many have rented this place out and almost all of them have died. Some were filled with stab wounds, some were in the tub, drowned, and others were framed as if it were suicide. You may wonder why the government hasn't merely torn the house down. I'm not sure. It seems like the money they make from this place keeps it running longer.
- They will not force themselves into the room during the night. Unless you interact with them, they will not attack or come your way. Any food or snacks prepared is fully safe and encouraged to consume. Make sure you set dishes and silverware in the sink. They'll be cleaned when you're not working. Staying outside of the house is your best chance to live. Follow these rules.

I need help...
I am going to post an email that I had to send to my landlord. I am begging my landlord to even move at this point. My ex filed a completely bogus HRO on me. I've filed 3 police reports on her and nothing has been done. I finally broke up with her because she got caught cheating and now she is filing the restraining order on me that's full of just actual crap. However, I do have a lawyer. I cant stop thinking about the stuff that happened. It sincerely feels like a horror movie.
"I spoke with the two of you yesterday about the issues I've had going on lately. It's hard for me to put all the events together with it making sense without knowing every little detail. However, I tried my best here. I am willing to provide any proof or any evidence that I have on this matter. I'm not sure how much information you want so if you need anything else please let me know.
Her and I started dating in June last year. The main issues started in February. We were back and forth for a while so that also makes it difficult to explain. The first time law enforcement was involved was on April 8th when I called them to report the incident. I can go into as much detail as you want in a follow up email if you want but none of that incident occurred on the property. This is when I saw the messages between her and her sister.
She makes claims against me, then they instantly go into talking about other things without even bringing up the claims again, then go into a conversation about having one of their friends robbing me. Her sister, then asks what apartment and floor I live on. This is when she goes into detail that I'm on the second floor, that I have the only white door, and that my apartment number is 209. I filed a police report, they did nothing, no charges were filed. We broke up for a while. We got back together roughly a month later. We were back together for a few weeks.
This is when we broke up again. She said she was single so I blocked her on all social media and means of communication. This is when the beginning of the hundred of the calls started coming in from a blocked number. It was a blocked number but I can prove it was her because she left voicemails that are marked as Unknown. This happens when a blocked number leaves a voicemail. Also in the voicemails, that I still have saved, she is saying outright she is sitting outside.
Her best friend lives 4 houses down, directly parallel to my living room and bedroom windows. Since this time they've started having bonfires and parties much more. They even all shouted at me one time as I was leaving. She has also parked far down so I can't see her until I'm outside already. I dove back one time so she wouldn't see me and I bruised my rib from it. She sat in her Jeep and waited for me to walk to my car to approach me. This has happened more than 6-7 times in the last month. Not knowing if she's going to be outside has sincerely freaked me out.
There was also an incident where she was parked waiting for me and I saw her and drove past. She then chased me until I stopped. I stopped in front of my work so I could have witnesses. During this time I never let her into my apartment, car, or even really conversed with her. We then, stupidly, got back together. This is when she admitted to me that her and her friend, on at least one occasion, sat outside in the dark and watched what I was doing. She accused me of being with another female because I shut my light off then she heard a random person laugh. I'm afraid to have my window blinds open at night. Especially, because, even if she's not sitting right there she could be sitting in her friend's backyard.
The second time the police were involved was on May 21st. We were back together, I caught her cheating on me, then I had her leave my apartment. As she was trying to avoid leaving my apartment, she grabbed my phone. She then left with my phone without my knowledge. I realized about 30 seconds later that she had my phone. I ran down there to obtain it, even without shoes on. She was backing out as I got down there. She had my phone in her, laughing at me. I reached into the car to grab my phone.
This is when she took off going over 30 mph. The whole time laughing and smirking at me. There was a witness who yelled at her to stop. I didn't have shoes on so I couldn't just jump without some type of injury. I grabbed the wheel and turned it so she had to stop. This is when I grabbed my phone and walked away. She then tried to back into me but I walked between two cars and she couldn't without hitting them. I went inside. She left. She came back like 3 minutes later. She then waited at the door until (I found this out after the fact) one of her friends, who lives here, let her in. She then knocked on my door and turned my handle for around 30-45 minutes.
My mom got there about 20 minutes after the car incident. She was claiming I was withholding her property but I've done that. I did tell her that I would drop everything off that night, as I always have. She then changed what she wanted and then her sister showed up. Even after all that I gave her over an hour to leave before I called the police. At this point I called the police. Again, very frustratingly, nothing happened. She filed an HRO on May 22nd. On may 23rd, I have multiple videos of her chasing me around in my car. She also blocked me at an intersection where I had to back up.
She filed the HRO and still chased me the next day. Then on the 23rd showed up at my place again. I talked to her for a while. I was breaking up with her when I said "If we stay in this relationship you're going to kill me". This is when she replied "I will kill you". I had her leave. After that, I left my apartment to cruise. This is when she showed up behind me AGAIN. At this point, I called her, told her to not contact me, and blocked her on everything for final. I then found out on the 24th she filed the HRO on the 21st.
There has been no contact since. However, these past events have really scared me. I don't feel comfortable. There are too many cars around when I go out there and I have to close my window as soon as it gets dark out of fear she's out there. She did all of that after she filed the HRO on me and that makes me feel like this is all a game to her and I'm just very uncomfortable being there.
I know there are details that I missed and if you have any questions, please let me know. I can provide all the proof I have of everything if you want me to. I can come in and show you in person as well. This has been a very difficult time for me and I am just really looking forward to it being over. I really do appreciate you working with me on this."
This has really affected me. It really keeps me up at night. I'm scared if she wins this she is going to continue playing with me. I've been with 3 girlfriends the last 10 years. One for 6 years, one for 4, and her. I've never even been accused of anything until now. This is affecting my job and everything. I have actual proof of most of this. Videos of the car chasing, over 3300 iMessages, the call logs, voicemails that prove it's her. Everything. Even though she constantly told me to delete them. Almost everything she accuses me of she has literally done...I hate this. I need it to be over. I do have court in less than week and I just need outside opinions. I'll give as much detail as I can.
Please believe me, I'm not hiding my guilty actions. There is not hyperbole or fiction here. This has been horrible on my mental health and I just want straight forward opinions.
Do I have a shot of getting the restraining order dropped?

Alright, I don't have much time, I am currently hiding in a cramped-up closet. I can hear it moving outside my room. You're most likely wondering how I got here, or why I don't have time. Well here is my story. One sunny California day, I was sitting on my lumpy couch with a new phone I had just bought. It had all the important apps I would spend most of my days on (Youtube, Tiktok, etc.) But I was too lazy to insert a SIM card into my phone. I was checking some Youtube, then over to TikTok repeat like what I always do. Eventually, I decided to put the SIM card into my phone so I can add my parents' numbers and my friends as well. I glance over to the counter where I had left the SIM and lazily get up from the couch as its leather detaches from my skin.
It's only a few steps from the couch but for some reason, it felt longer, maybe it was my laziness or tiredness but it felt as if you were walking up a never-ending staircase. Eventually, I reached the marble counter, but instead of the SIM card being there, there was nothing! "Must have misplaced it?" I thought, trying to come up with a reason. I closed my eyes for a long blink before jogging over to my closet, things always got lost in there. For some reason though, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched.
As I was miles deep into the pile of clothes I heard, a few steps away from me *BUZZZZ* The very distinct sound of my phone ringing "Must be my imagination" I murmured. My entire body was covered by this point. Then I hear the same sound again, then again, then again. Eventually, I get fed up with the ringing and burst out of the sea of clothes. And trudge over to my still-ringing phone.
"19 Missed Calls" it reads. "Odd" I blurted out loudly. I pick up my phone with a sense of urgency. *BUZZZZ* Another call rings in. I've seen enough horror movies to know to not pick up the phone. *RING* It goes, I had got a text, "Let me in!" It read. I looked at my phone in fear, I have no idea why, but still, it sent chills down my spine. Just then an Amber Alert set off in my phone "Masked killer seems to be stalking around (they said my neighbourhood)" it read. I almost screamed. But I managed to stay calm and ran into my bedroom.
I ran so fast I almost knocked down a picture of my mom- we had just had her funeral last Tuesday. When I got into my room I closed my window and locked my door. *BUZZZZ* my phone went, I decided to be a man and answered it, and all I could hear was low breathing, then another Amber Alert "Masked killer has been sighted outside of (they said my address)" My heart pounded, I ran into the closet I am in now, and here is where my story resumes, "Honey, come out now" A familiar voice says outside, another Amber Alert rings on my phone "Masked killer can replicate voices, STAY AWAY" it reads. I remember the voice now, it's my mom's. "Honey, it is ok" My mom repeats. I have to open the door now, goodbye. My mom is home...

Alright, I don't have much time, I am currently hiding in a cramped-up closet. I can hear it moving outside my room. You're most likely wondering how I got here, or why I don't have time. Well here is my story. One sunny California day, I was sitting on my lumpy couch with a new phone I had just bought. It had all the important apps I would spend most of my days on (Youtube, Tiktok, etc.) But I was too lazy to insert a SIM card into my phone. I was checking some Youtube, then over to TikTok repeat like what I always do. Eventually, I decided to put the SIM card into my phone so I can add my parents' numbers and my friends as well. I glance over to the counter where I had left the SIM and lazily get up from the couch as its leather detaches from my skin.
It's only a few steps from the couch but for some reason, it felt longer, maybe it was my laziness or tiredness but it felt as if you were walking up a never-ending staircase. Eventually, I reached the marble counter, but instead of the SIM card being there, there was nothing! "Must have misplaced it?" I thought, trying to come up with a reason. I closed my eyes for a long blink before jogging over to my closet, things always got lost in there. For some reason though, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched.
As I was miles deep into the pile of clothes I heard, a few steps away from me *BUZZZZ\* The very distinct sound of my phone ringing "Must be my imagination" I murmured. My entire body was covered by this point. Then I hear the same sound again, then again, then again. Eventually, I get fed up with the ringing and burst out of the sea of clothes. And trudge over to my still-ringing phone.
"19 Missed Calls" it reads. "Odd" I blurted out loudly. I pick up my phone with a sense of urgency. *BUZZZZ\* Another call rings in. I've seen enough horror movies to know to not pick up the phone. *RING\* It goes, I had got a text, "Let me in!" It read. I looked at my phone in fear, I have no idea why, but still, it sent chills down my spine. Just then an Amber Alert set off in my phone "Masked killer seems to be stalking around (they said my neighbourhood)" it read. I almost screamed. But I managed to stay calm and ran into my bedroom.
I ran so fast I almost knocked down a picture of my mom- we had just had her funeral last Tuesday. When I got into my room I closed my window and locked my door. *BUZZZZ\* my phone went, I decided to be a man and answered it, and all I could hear was low breathing, then another Amber Alert "Masked killer has been sighted outside of (they said my address)" My heart pounded, I ran into the closet I am in now, and here is where my story resumes, "Honey, come out now" A familiar voice says outside, another Amber Alert rings on my phone "Masked killer can replicate voices, STAY AWAY" it reads. I remember the voice now, it's my mom's. "Honey, it is ok" My mom repeats. I have to open the door now, goodbye. My mom is home...

The moonlight peaks through the boarded windows. It shouldn’t be like this. I order my subordinates to correct it. Every five meters, there is a camera. If any student misbehaves, I know with a simple notification. Square shaped lockers fling open as students hurry to class. The perfect size for government sponsored books and government sponsored books only. In the past, a parents’ offspring could do whatever it wanted. As time went on, our world faced overpopulation, food prices skyrocketed and people fought for resources. War, murder, rape, and orphanhood plagued the children. Instead of a rational response, they started having outbursts. They fought each other, hit teachers, and developed substance abuse problems that started with marijuana and ended with cocaine. And so, 65 years ago, the government implemented the Education Act. After birth, the state obtains the right to a child. It grows up in boarding school with around the clock security. No one leaves until age 18. By that point, they can adapt to the real world. Parents and politicians alike scrambled for a last hope, and this was it.
I take attendance for the first class and notice student 007211623’s empty desk. I shoot a glare at the teacher, awaiting an answer, but she simply shrugs and averts her eyes. I look through my phone for any messages regarding 007211623. Not a single one. My eyes dart all across the room, while the class sits in silence. She better not have escaped. I burst into her room. It’s good they aren’t allowed to have doors. The colour from my face drains as I notice the hole in her wall, hidden by a blanket. Blood stains the edges. My face is still as I look through. The fog blends in with the dull pavement until I spot the splashes of red. Half of 0017216’s hair is blown by the wind, and half succumbs to her blood. Her twisted limbs are covered in grass, dirt, and rocks. Snow begins to fall all around her, and yet it melts when it touches her blood. While thinking of an excuse for her disappearance, I spot a letter on the bed.
To whoever finds this,
You know me as student 007211623. School 72, class 1, age 16, student number 23. But I gave myself another name, a real name. Rosie. So when you read this letter, know it’s from Rosie. By now it’s too late. My blood must be seeping into the roots of the dead grass. And there it shall stay. Come spring time, the nutrients from my blood will grow healthy grass. So even when my death gets no acknowledgement, I will always be here. Every time you see the grass, remember me. Remember what they did to us. When the world became too difficult to handle, we cried for help, and yet they ignored us. When we kept on pleading, they imprisoned us. We couldn’t leave, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. We did as we were told but the past never forgets. The adults ignored us. So I found my own solution.
Rosie

The moonlight peaks through the boarded windows. It shouldn’t be like this. I order my subordinates to correct it. Every five meters, there is a camera. If any student misbehaves, I know with a simple notification. Square shaped lockers fling open as students hurry to class. The perfect size for government sponsored books and government sponsored books only. In the past, a parents’ offspring could do whatever it wanted. As time went on, our world faced overpopulation, food prices skyrocketed and people fought for resources. War, murder, rape, and orphanhood plagued the children. Instead of a rational response, they started having outbursts. They fought each other, hit teachers, and developed substance abuse problems that started with marijuana and ended with cocaine. And so, 65 years ago, the government implemented the Education Act. After birth, the state obtains the right to a child. It grows up in boarding school with around the clock security. No one leaves until age 18. By that point, they can adapt to the real world. Parents and politicians alike scrambled for a last hope, and this was it.
I take attendance for the first class and notice student 007211623’s empty desk. I shoot a glare at the teacher, awaiting an answer, but she simply shrugs and averts her eyes. I look through my phone for any messages regarding 007211623. Not a single one. My eyes dart all across the room, while the class sits in silence. She better not have escaped. I burst into her room. It’s good they aren’t allowed to have doors. The colour from my face drains as I notice the hole in her wall, hidden by a blanket. Blood stains the edges. My face is still as I look through. The fog blends in with the dull pavement until I spot the splashes of red. Half of 0017216’s hair is blown by the wind, and half succumbs to her blood. Her twisted limbs are covered in grass, dirt, and rocks. Snow begins to fall all around her, and yet it melts when it touches her blood. While thinking of an excuse for her disappearance, I spot a letter on the bed.
To whoever finds this,
You know me as student 007211623. School 72, class 1, age 16, student number 23. But I gave myself another name, a real name. Rosie. So when you read this letter, know it’s from Rosie. By now it’s too late. My blood must be seeping into the roots of the dead grass. And there it shall stay. Come spring time, the nutrients from my blood will grow healthy grass. So even when my death gets no acknowledgement, I will always be here. Every time you see the grass, remember me. Remember what they did to us. When the world became too difficult to handle, we cried for help, and yet they ignored us. When we kept on pleading, they imprisoned us. We couldn’t leave, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. We did as we were told but the past never forgets. The adults ignored us. So I found my own solution.
Rosie

The moonlight peaks through the boarded windows. It shouldn’t be like this. I order my subordinates to correct it. Every five meters, there is a camera. If any student misbehaves, I know with a simple notification. Square shaped lockers fling open as students hurry to class. The perfect size for government sponsored books and government sponsored books only. In the past, a parents’ offspring could do whatever it wanted. As time went on, our world faced overpopulation, food prices skyrocketed and people fought for resources. War, murder, rape, and orphanhood plagued the children. Instead of a rational response, they started having outbursts. They fought each other, hit teachers, and developed substance abuse problems that started with marijuana and ended with cocaine. And so, 65 years ago, the government implemented the Education Act. After birth, the state obtains the right to a child. It grows up in boarding school with around the clock security. No one leaves until age 18. By that point, they can adapt to the real world. Parents and politicians alike scrambled for a last hope, and this was it.
I take attendance for the first class and notice student 007211623’s empty desk. I shoot a glare at the teacher, awaiting an answer, but she simply shrugs and averts her eyes. I look through my phone for any messages regarding 007211623. Not a single one. My eyes dart all across the room, while the class sits in silence. She better not have escaped. I burst into her room. It’s good they aren’t allowed to have doors. The colour from my face drains as I notice the hole in her wall, hidden by a blanket. Blood stains the edges. My face is still as I look through. The fog blends in with the dull pavement until I spot the splashes of red. Half of 0017216’s hair is blown by the wind, and half succumbs to her blood. Her twisted limbs are covered in grass, dirt, and rocks. Snow begins to fall all around her, and yet it melts when it touches her blood. While thinking of an excuse for her disappearance, I spot a letter on the bed.
To whoever finds this,
You know me as student 007211623. School 72, class 1, age 16, student number 23. But I gave myself another name, a real name. Rosie. So when you read this letter, know it’s from Rosie. By now it’s too late. My blood must be seeping into the roots of the dead grass. And there it shall stay. Come spring time, the nutrients from my blood will grow healthy grass. So even when my death gets no acknowledgement, I will always be here. Every time you see the grass, remember me. Remember what they did to us. When the world became too difficult to handle, we cried for help, and yet they ignored us. When we kept on pleading, they imprisoned us. We couldn’t leave, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. We did as we were told but the past never forgets. The adults ignored us. So I found my own solution.
Rosie

The moonlight peaks through the boarded windows. It shouldn’t be like this. I order my subordinates to correct it. Every five meters, there is a camera. If any student misbehaves, I know with a simple notification. Square shaped lockers fling open as students hurry to class. The perfect size for government sponsored books and government sponsored books only. In the past, a parents’ offspring could do whatever it wanted. As time went on, our world faced overpopulation, food prices skyrocketed and people fought for resources. War, murder, rape, and orphanhood plagued the children. Instead of a rational response, they started having outbursts. They fought each other, hit teachers, and developed substance abuse problems that started with marijuana and ended with cocaine. And so, 65 years ago, the government implemented the Education Act. After birth, the state obtains the right to a child. It grows up in boarding school with around the clock security. No one leaves until age 18. By that point, they can adapt to the real world. Parents and politicians alike scrambled for a last hope, and this was it.
I take attendance for the first class and notice student 007211623’s empty desk. I shoot a glare at the teacher, awaiting an answer, but she simply shrugs and averts her eyes. I look through my phone for any messages regarding 007211623. Not a single one. My eyes dart all across the room, while the class sits in silence. She better not have escaped. I burst into her room. It’s good they aren’t allowed to have doors. The colour from my face drains as I notice the hole in her wall, hidden by a blanket. Blood stains the edges. My face is still as I look through. The fog blends in with the dull pavement until I spot the splashes of red. Half of 0017216’s hair is blown by the wind, and half succumbs to her blood. Her twisted limbs are covered in grass, dirt, and rocks. Snow begins to fall all around her, and yet it melts when it touches her blood. While thinking of an excuse for her disappearance, I spot a letter on the bed.
To whoever finds this,
You know me as student 007211623. School 72, class 1, age 16, student number 23. But I gave myself another name, a real name. Rosie. So when you read this letter, know it’s from Rosie. By now it’s too late. My blood must be seeping into the roots of the dead grass. And there it shall stay. Come spring time, the nutrients from my blood will grow healthy grass. So even when my death gets no acknowledgement, I will always be here. Every time you see the grass, remember me. Remember what they did to us. When the world became too difficult to handle, we cried for help, and yet they ignored us. When we kept on pleading, they imprisoned us. We couldn’t leave, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. We did as we were told but the past never forgets. The adults ignored us. So I found my own solution.
Rosie

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.

(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/.

I'm recently engaged to a beautiful woman named Larissa who makes my head swirl. Looks, personality, and a similar taste in food, I mean she had it all. For my birthday last year I got to drive one of those Lamborghinis across the track, and fire a round out of an Abram tank. A tank round! I'm not much of a gun aficionado, but a tank round!
Which was all the worst, when 3 weeks before the wedding I had to tell my drop dead gorgeous fiancée that I needed to leave for a couple of days.
It's not an easy thing for a bride to swallow: juggling food prep, alterations, cancellations, seating arrangements, two sides of the family, busy bodies, food allergies, one aunt that won't stop calling, and another one that keeps asking if her wearing white to our wedding as she's sort of the matriarch of the family was going to be a problem (side note: we told her multiple times that it was not okay). The list goes on, trust me.
So when she asked for an explanation. I had to tell her the truth no matter how terrible it sounded. It wouldn't feel right knowing that the precursor to our marriage was a lie.
"Is it kids? Oh God, do you have a little Jimmy running around somewhere? No, Jim. I can't handle this right now."
"Lars, what? No. It's not a kid."
She was peeling and stamping invitations in our tiny 625 square foot apartment. "Well then what is it? I thought we agreed to no bachelor parties. I thought. We agreed that those were for people who were ready for a wedding but not the marriage. I don't care if it's tradition." She stamped the envelop extra hard.
"No, it's nothing like that. Trust me." I shuddered just thinking about it. "It's not any kind of thing I would be doing if I didn't have to."
She glared at me, "But you have to."
I nodded.
The table shook again. "Okay. So spit it out." She handed me a few envelopes. "If it's not a kid. And it's not a bachelor party. Then what is it?" She scoffed, "It's not like you're married right?" Her smile slowly started leaving her face, "Oh my God." She crumpled an envelop against her forehead. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Larissa..."
"Don't you Larissa me!" She looked me right in the eye, "Tell me I'm not the other woman Jim!"
"Well not technically."
"What does that even mean," she exasperated. "Go on, tell me how it's not technically."
So several years ago I was straight out of college. I could have worked some menial desk job and climbed the corporate ladder. But the idea of never leaving my home town ate me up.
So when an ad for native English speakers to come teach on some remote island presented itself to me. I jumped at the opportunity. Next thing I know I was booking a one way ticket to begin my new life as an expat.
In my head, I thought I was going to land, check into my hotel, enjoy the sights, and come the first Monday walk to the nearest English Cram school and get a job on my good looks alone.
On Monday, the school I went to, the hallways were packed with other Americans, British, Australians, and I think some Canadian was squishing himself into one of the tiny student chairs. All waiting for a job interview.
The next place was like that as well.
So was the next.
By the end of the first week I was beat. Tired and defeated, I thought my luck had run out. So I did what any 20 something would in a brand new city. I hit the bars. I hit them hard.
After the last place kicked me out as they closed I was stumbling around trying to make my way back to the hotel. Grumbling, groggy eyed and trying not to vomit all over the street. When something shiny caught my eye.
It was a silk red purse with gold embroidery tied with a thick yarn. There weren't many people out this late. But everyone who passed by it acted as if it wasn't even there. Like they didn't see it or something.
The bag alone looked like it was worth something. At the time all I was thinking was that, maybe someone would trade a drink for it, as my pockets were empty and all I wanted was for my head to be the same way.
I stumbled as inconspicuously as possible, or as much a drunk guy could finesse and made my way toward the bag. Looking around the entire time, making sure no one was running up claiming that it was theirs, or worse calling me a thief and have me thrown in jail in a different country.
And when no one did, I finally scooped it up and untied it. To my surprise, the bag was filled with money. Bright colorful bills with huge figures even at the current exchange rate. And there was even gold. Some rubies. I took one out and bit into it, almost breaking my tooth.
I couldn't believe how my luck had changed. I flipped through the cash and realized that there was enough to fund my trip for a few extra weeks. AND get me a plane ticket back home. The jewelry even, seemed sizeable.
There I was in one of the lowest, darkest moments. And a pot of gold seemingly dropped out of the sky for me. Thoughts of finding its real owner never even occurred to me.
I was quickly pocketing the thing and planning to high tail it out of there when a frail old man approached me from the shadows. Now I had learned some of the language before hand, but I couldn't understand what he was saying.
He kept smiling though and patting my shoulder, spouting words so quickly that if they weren't already gibberish to me, they would still make no sense in my drunken state.
I fumbled the bag around before juggling it into the crook of my arm, in order to reach my phone to help translate what the hell the old guy was trying to tell me.
The translation caught him mid sentence but all I needed was to hear one word back then and I regurgitated the last couple of hours all over the sidewalk and blacked out.
When I came to, I was back at the hotel with a killer hang over. I was wondering how I made it back when I remembered faintly of the old man helping me. That's when I remembered the pouch and my eyes darted around the room and to my relief, "It wasn't just a dream." The pouch was there, full and plump with a few bills sticking out from the throat.
Next to it was a note, that I would later translate to read about a woman who had turned 18 that year. The numbers 3 and 13 were inscribed as well. Her approximate height, which seemed weird. I mean, why would they go through all this trouble and not just tell me her actual height? Her name, her sign, and her address.
I was completely fucking baffled at all of this information, when I suddenly remembered my phone. I pulled it out and looked up the last thing still on my screen, which was a translation from Google. It read: my future son-in-law. I am so happy you've agreed to marry my daughter. Don't forget to come to the wedding.
No wonder I passed the fuck out.
I shook my head and checked the purse again. Yeah there must have been close to 5 grand in there. Not including the gold, the rubies, or a jade piece I found at the bottom.
Whatever was going on. I had no clue. But I sure as hell wasn't about to get married to some girl I didn't know. Even if I did need the money.
So I used a bit of the cash to get a taxi to the address. When I arrived, the old man saw me from his courtyard. He was smiling and happy, pointing and calling for someone inside the house. A few seconds later a short lively woman appeared. And she was just as happy to see me.
I didn't know what was happening but next thing I do know was they surrounded me in a hug. Happy and joyous, bouncing and wobbling, enough for me to almost hurl again, which I did, except this time I swallowed it.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on. But the note says something about marriage."
The pair looked at each other and exchanged a series of phrases. "Marriage," the old man finally enunciated.
I nodded. Then shook my head. "No, not marriage."
We went back and forth in a similar manner for awhile before the woman ran off to get someone. When she returned with a young man about 14 or 15, wearing glasses and sporting a bowl cut, he explained to me about the pouch.
"It's a tradition in this area for a ghost dowry. I think that is how you say it."
"A ghost dowry?"
"Yeah. In our area. When a daughter dies really young, especially as an infant. THe parents will start saving money for her ghost dowry. Because we believe that when she turns 18, she'll return and ask to be married off."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"No, it's quite common. Mostly everyone knows about it. Which is why they don't pick up the pouch. Not unless they're really in need of money."
"I'm really in need of cash kid, but I'm not about to get married. I'm especially not getting married to some...girl that passed away." I handed him the money but he wouldn't even touch it. Avoiding it like some kind of plague. I even tried handing it back to the old man but he kept pushing the pouch back at me and shaking his head.
The kid shrugged, "You can't give it back. Those are the rules. Once you've picked it up, you've accepted the dowry and MUST get married."
"Why me," I asked rhetorically.
"She chose you."
"What? Okay. Listen kid. What if I don't get married? Are they going to report me to the cops or sue me?"
"No."
"So I can just walk away?"
The kid shrugged again, "You'll be back."
"What?"
"I'm not sure. But from the stories I've heard. The groom to be always comes back. It might take awhile, but he does. Sometimes it's because he's traditional himself and his family tells him he must do the right thing. Other times he comes back because the girl won't leave him alone."
"Won't leave him alone?"
"Yeah. They say that the bride will come find the man at the hour of her birth, haunting him until he returns and agrees to fulfill his end of the bargain."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Sure. I'm sure that's it kid. Either way. I can't take this money knowing what it's for." I put it on the table. "Please tell him that I wish their family luck in fulfilling their tradition. Also, tell them that I'm sorry for using some of the money for the cab fare. I had no other choice to return what is theirs."
The boy shrugged a third time, "It's yours now. You should take it. What are you going to do? Walk all the way back?"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do."
"It'll be dark by then," he added. "She could come find you."
"I'll be fine. And plus what if she was born in the day time?"
"They only come at the dark time of her birth hour. If she was born in the afternoon. She'll come at midnight," he shouted after me as I left.
I tried not to think about everything that's happened to me this past week as I walked back. But it wasn't a rocks throw by any stretch. Which gave me plenty of time to think. About my maxed out credit cards, the hotel stay winding out by the end of the week, and of course the wedding.
By the time that I got back to the hotel I was a tired, hot mess. I was also hungry and my feet were swollen as they were unused to the tropical heat. But I was sure glad that the showers were already paid up. I took an extra long one before crashing into my bed. Snacking on a candy bar I had brought from back home.
I turned on some tv and tried not to let the impending doom of being kicked out on the streets bother me too much. As a plan began brewing in my head on who I'd call in a few hours when it was morning stateside. A few people still owed me favors back home, which I hoped they would be good for, which I hoped was good enough to get me back home.
Several times I dozed off as the tv buzzed in the background. Each time I woke up staring at the bright red alarm clock blaring its red angry dashes at me. By the third or fourth time my head jerked me awake as it fell to my chest. I looked up to see the time on the clock. It was 3:12. When something clicked in my head and I fished for the note still in my back pocket.
Su-ru Yen
18 this year.
3:13
I stopped reading and glanced back up at the clock. The little kids words reaing in my ear. "She comes at her death hour."
I waited, not realizing that I was holding my breath until I felt my lungs start to burn.
In a blink the clock changed and I glanced around as if waiting for something to happen. But nothing happened. My stomach suddenly growled, echoing in the empty room and I laughed, "Maybe I should have just taken the money."
*dak dak*
Came a knock from the motel door.
*dak dak*
My heart was caught in my chest. The main artery was constricted and wouldn't let go.
*dak*
I was shaking in my bed, too afraid to move or answer the door.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
It went on like this a full 4 minutes before it stopped. WHen it had finally stopped I tried getting out of bed, but I couldn't. For a second I was afraid to look down, afraid that her hand would be there holding me in place so that we could elope.
But it was just my hand clenching the bed sheets so tightly that I couldn't budge. I had to use my other hand to pry my own fingers off in order to creep slowly to the door and look into the eyehole.
It felt blurry as I blinked my eye, trying to clear it. Tears had welled at the corners without me realizing it. I wiped them away and slowly, reluctantly bent down and stared into the peephole.
No one was there.
But for the next 3 days. My door would knock. It didn't matter if I was on the bed, or in the bathroom. The closet was the worst as the knocking felt like it was right against my face. It didn't even matter if I ran outside, as no one would be around within eyesight. The knocking would always find me.
On the fourth and last day of my stay. The door knocked right on time.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
I felt the familiar twinge in my chest and my body was numb all over. But this time I was determined to take a look. And finally catch whoever or whatever it was that was playing this cruel joke on me.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
I tried gettoung out of bed but I couldn't. I was too scared. Several times I glanced from the clock to the door. Afraid to take my eyes off the door for too long, afraid that she would come through it if I did. Afraid that I would miss her and she would haunt me forever. And as the clock started ticking down. I kept whsipering myself. "She's only here for four minutes. She's only here for four minutes." And it was almost 3:17.
Seconds before the clock changed I jumped out of bed. Determined to end this thing once and for all.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
I didn't have time to look through the door. Even if I did I was afraid if I saw something there. I'd be too chicken to open the door. So I tore the band aid right off and swung the door open wide.
There was no one there.
But then from my corner cornea, something caught my eyes. A trail of something translucent was dragging away. I tried to take a step after it but my first step out of the door stopped me dead. My foot was drenched wet and it felt sticky beneath my sock. The coldness of it traveled up my spine, and to this day I can only describe it as the feeling of something metal scraping across my vertebrate. By the time I looked up, the wisps were gone. ANd the trail it left behind was already drying.
That night I couldn't sleep a wink. I waited until morning came and took to the streets. Desperate to find the old couple's house. Stopping several times to ask for directions and circling around streets and street signs that I couldn't read until I heard a familiar voice.
"I told you you'd be back."
"Kid," I grabbed him.
"Whoa. You look like you've seen a ghost." His eyes grew wide as he looked me over. "So the stories are true!" He didn't waste any more time. "Come on," he called after me. Leading me down the street and to the old couples courtyard. The pouch was still on the table outside where I had left it days ago.
The kid knocked on the door and shouted until the old man answered. He was still in his sleeping clothes when he saw my face, and his demeanor completely changed. He was so happy to see me. Opening the door wider and ushering us inside.
"Tell him I want it to stop," I told the kid. "Tell him I want her to leave me alone."
The kid translated but the old man shook his head before speaking. The kid looked at me and said, "He says then 'Marry her'."
"I can't do that!"
"Then she'll never leave you alone."
"She just going to keep knocking on my door? Forever?"
The kid turned to the old man and told him in their language what I said. The old man gripped his cane and tapped it once lightly on the ground, almost as if he were proud, before he told the boy who then told me, "She's a kind and gentle soul. He knew she would be. If she's only knocking on your door so far."
"So far? So far? Okay. What? Fuck. So then what? What happens if I marry her?"
The kid asks the old man and after a few words were exchanged he turned to me, "Then you will be wed."
"yeah. I get that. But what does that really mean?"
The kid clicks his tongue, "From what I understand. I think it means you'll have to honor her every month."
"Honor her? How? Like make a sacrifice? A blood sacrifice or something?"
The kid laughed, "No. Just Bai Bai. I don't know how to say it. Pray?".
"Pray to her?"
"Acknowledge her. Talk to her wooden nameplate. It's what serves as a gravestone for our dead."
"So just pray to her once a month, and that's it?"
The kid talks to the old man for awhile before turning back to me. "Yeah. That, and you'll be blessed."
"Blessed?"
"Yeah. Not sure about that one."
"Okay. Fine. What else. Like what if I want a girlfriend someday. Or get married. Have kids. Can I not do that? Will she haunt me? Haunt them?"
The kid asks the old man before turning to me, "Not if you ask for her permission. In a ghost dowry, you're allowed to have concubines. As long as she is consulted first and agrees."
I shake my head, "This is fucking crazy."
The kid shrugs. I seem to get the feeling he likes to shrug. "It's either that or she keeps haunting you."
I mulled that over in my head. "Shit." I stomped around the courtyard. "Okay. Fine. Fine! What do I need to do?"
The kid looks up at the sky. "We'll have to prepare."
"What? But it's already late. I want to get it over with as soon as possible. I don't want to wait another night of her coming to my door."
The kid smiles, "Don't worry. You won't. This kind of wedding can only happen at night."
For the next several hours I waited. Watched as neighbors and family. Cousins. Came to help. Food was brought in. Large round tables were set outside the courtyard. A tailor came and measured me up, twice. Decorations were strung and the sun began to fall.
When night came, the people who had gathered were tired but pleased with themselves that they had finished. I was asked to change into my wedding clothes and to wait outside the door of the couple's house until called. The lanterns behind me burning and the smell of food wafted in the air.
I waited until the doors finally opened.
Inside I saw the old man and the old woman start constructing something before a traditional wooden shrine at the back of the room.
They started with the legs. Sewn pieces of white cloth. The torso. The arms. And finally the head. When it was put together, the couple slipped on a white dress over the effigy they had constructed. Then the old woman went off through one of the side doors and returned with a box. From inside the box she withdrew a folded blanket. It looked faded but the edges were crisp and completely clean. The old man reach into the box and removed a sickly green thread that seemed to stick to his fingers, from it hung tiny strands of black hair, which he stuck gently to the back of the effigy's head.
The woman threw the blanket over its face, covering it.
Then the old couple turned to me and beckoned me forward. I looked behind me and none of the other guests moved.
Even the kid stood next to the door, unwilling to step inside as I entered.
I walked slowly up, next to the effigy until we stood side by side.
The old woman turned toward the shrine where a wooden plaque stood at the table. On it were three character words that I couldn't read. And she began to speak, the kid behind us translated in suit.
"Dear daughter. Mother is glad that you're finally being wed off. Though Mother will miss you as a girl. I am so glad of the woman that you have become. I am so proud of you. Please, continue to make me proud." She sighed. "When you were born I was so happy. Even if you only lived for a few short minutes. And I am sorry that the fates have been cruel to you. But I am thankful that they at least showed mercy enough to give you a husband. Take care my sweet girl."
"We love you," the father finished.
The old couple hands me a bowl. Inside are small boba looking balls swimming in a clear soup.
The kid behind me, "It's tradition to take a bite, and then feed your bride."
I looked at the old couple and they nodded at me, motioning for me to eat. I dipped my spoon in and took a mouthful. Chewing slowly. And swallowing.
Then they motioned for me to feed her.
I dipped my spoon again. And awkwardly raised it towards her. Slipping it under her veil to where her lips would be. Pretending to feed her.
Now I watched them put this thing together. Besides the creepy hair and the swaddling cloth for a veil. It was nothing more than cloth and stuff. I knew this.
At least that was what I thought until I heard it chew.
I could hear her jaws sticking as they moved up and down. The room was dark but signs of the veil moving completely terrified me. I couldn't even hear the people breathing behind me or the lanterns burning. All I could hear was her chewing.
When she finished. There was silence. Then everyone cheered.
After that, it was like any normal wedding I had attended. The guests poured in and I shook just about everyone's hand. Hugging complete strangers. My new parents. And even the kid.
Then we ate and drank, for almost a week. Someone was sent to get my things from the hotel and I stayed with my in-laws for the remainder of my stay. Which turned out to be several years. Because the following week I was offered as job as an English instructor at a nearby school.
I was told the principal owed the old couple a favor, but something told me that it wasn't the whole story.
I enjoyed my work at the school but didn't stay for long. As I started traveling to film a documentary about the local cuisine after a few of my YouTube videos mysteriously went viral as an expat who tried weird but delicious treats.
Eventually, my in-laws passed away. First it was mom. And four days later dad followed suit. I lived alone in the house for awhile, before I hit the jackpot at the weekly supermarket draw from one of my receipts. That, along with selling the house, was enough for me to go back to America and start a brand new life. Where I opened several shabu shabu restaurants that were met with great success.
"Eventually meeting you during one of my rounds."
My fiancée who had been listening to my story slack jawed the entire time couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Bull-fucking-shit!" She slapped me playfully across the arm. "You are such a good fucking liar!" She laughed. "I've always heard about guys not wanting to help out about the wedding arrangements. But this one takes the fucking cake. I'm going to post this in the group chat tomorrow. Bra-vo."
I laughed with her. "Yeah. That's it. It's just a great story."
"Now finish this up and let's go upstairs," she commanded. We stamped the last envelopes and went to bed. She was still laughing sporadically as I closed the door to our bedroom. "Knock knock," she joked.
I humored her, "Knock knock."
And we watched tv until she fell asleep.
I made sure she was sound asleep, before I gently crawled out of bed and put on my slippers. Softly opening the door and closing it behind me as I walked through the house. Down to the first floor. Then to the basement. Where I pulled the key I kept around my neck and slipped it into the lock.
Inside the basement was bare, except for two chairs and some boxes that I had taken from the old house, and the table, and the small wooden plaque that had my first wife's name inscribed on it in her native language.
"I'm going to get married soon," I told her. "She's a great person. Funny. Beautiful. And devoted. Kind of like you." I held the wood plaque in my hands. "I hope you approve." I waited as if she would answer. But she didn't. Never in all the years we've been married. "I can't go back home to ask for your permission. But I hope that this is enough." I looked at her name, almost longingly. As I had grown quite attached to our time together. "And I hope that this will be the last time we talk as I move on with my life. Thank you so much," I told her as I put her away."
Months flew by, and I never revisited the basement. Knowing full well that I had missed our visiting days. Though I'd often catch myself talking to her on some tough days. But nothing bad happened, by not seeing her plaque. Nothing bad at all.
Soon the wedding day was upon us. And it was a great party, as great as the best there ever was. Great good. Great company. And tons and tons of alcohol.
Larissa and I were giggling at the end of it, drunk as we stumbled upstairs from the venue to the presidential suite. Laughing all the way, kissing, barely able to keep our hands off each other as we got into our room.
My new bride pushed herself off me as we entered the threshold, and sprawled herself on the bed. Her legs rubbing against each other as her eyes invited me to come closer. I propped a knee on the bed to join her.
*dak dak*
We both shot our eyes to the door and then at the table side where the clock blared at us an angry red of 3:13.
Larissa looked up at me with a horrified look. I could see her bottom lip quivering.
"Hello," I called out. With my back to the door. "Sam? Bobby?" But no one answered. "Room service?"
*dak dak*
*dak*

I need to get this out there because I have Door Dashed for an entire month, only to have half my wages stolen, with Door Dash support not doing anything to prevent this from happening as this has gone on for three weeks.
Week One On my first week, from May 1-7, I earned $769.65. On Monday afternoon, around 2:45pm EST, the day before I was supposed to get paid, I got a text saying that I changed my bank account. I logged in only to find that my account was hacked and that my information was changed to:
Name: Joe Ji Phone Number: (843) 303-5968 Bank: Sutton Bank *7927 Acct #: 111000000 Routing #: 123123123123
I immediately freaked out and called up support, since someone had bypassed my 2FA in order to change my phone number, and I had to go through 2FA to change it back to my number. They ignored my concerns and said that all I had to do was change my phone and bank account back to my bank account. I was using a local bank, and decided to change it to my other checking account with a major bank, since protections would be better.
NOTE: I NEVER give out my personal information to anyone. Ever.
I find out that $339.78 did not make it to my bank account. The rest somehow went into my DasherDirect Account, which I transferred to my bank.
​
Week Two
I earned $331 for the week from May 8-14, and the same story happened. My info was changed to the same person and accounts as the week before and I immediately called up Dasher Support. This time they made me change my password and everything back, but kept the Joe Ji name in there to help with an investigation, that they said would take 10-11 days to complete. I filled out an email from support that Support told me I would get that asked me some questions to confirm my identity, which I filled out.
​
That week, all $331 was stolen.
​
Week Three
I earned $345.28, I did not get a call saying that my information changed, however I only got paid $260.53. I did not notice it because I was busy with my other work and my account information has not changed.
​
Week Four
I earned $177.62 and was paid in full, but noticed the discrepency from the week before. I also noticed that 11+ days had passed and nobody got back to me.
I called support. After being put on hold, the person doing support for me hung up. I called again, and went over the entire scenario with the next support person, and I said that I need to talk to management at this point when she said that they'd look into it. She said that they cannot directly line up to level 2 support and that they would call back within five minutes. I asked what would happen if they didn't and she said to call them back.
Ten minutes later, nobody called me back, so I called up support again. We went through the same thing and she said that level 2 would call me back within 24 hours actually.
Nobody called back for 24 hours. I called up the corporate number (650) 681-9470 (which ended up being the same system as their normal support!), and while explaining my case, my support person broke off! I hung up, and got a call from an 833 number, in which no one spoke. I then noticed, that my callback did happen at 3:00AM from that number while I was conveniently asleep.
I called back again, and support said it could be a very long time until I get paid since they have a lot of cases like this! I got mad at that point and he hung up on me!
This company is robbing its workers! I don't feel like I have anyone I can talk to there about this, so I'm hoping to find other drivers who have been experiencing the same thing.
Of the $1,623.55 that I worked my tail off for, $755.53 has been stolen from me by no fault whatsoever from my end. I'm on an iPhone, which has no malware software, and I have followed everything they have told me to do, showed skepticism since someone bypassed my 2FA, only to be told no worries, only to then be robbed again the exact same way!
I got a punctured tire driving on the worst streets in my town to deliver (why they used Door Dash probably) and had to spend ~$600 to get it fixed, and with gas, I've gotten no pay whatsoever!
Is this happening to other people? Because we need to band and take legal action. I don't know what else to do!

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/.

I fell for the Instacart shopper phishing attempt. Last night I had an order where the customer asked me to contact “his sister” (item was a pregnancy test and he claimed he didn’t want their parents to know). So I did and the person had me drop it off in front of the address in the bushes rather than the front door. Then today I received a call from what looked like the Instacart customer service phone number. I noticed afterwards that it was a 1-800 number instead of the actual 1-888 number. But anyways, the person said my account was flagged because of the incident and then they sent (from the real Instacart 22395 number) a phone verification code. He then asked me to verify my info so he could “start the process of removing the flag.” A few minutes later I got an email from Instacart saying my phone number was changed and I no longer had access to my account.
Instacart’s process for this is not to deactivate my account, but just to have me fill out a form and wait for their Trust & Support team to contact me after 24-48 business hours. My account is still being used because I’m receiving dozens of notifications from customers saying “where is my order” and “wow you’re done that fast?”
Just curious if these hackers ever get caught? And do I get any of my money back that I made this week that hadn’t deposited to my account yet?
Also do I need to be worried about said hackers accessing any of my other personal information? I already contacted my bank which was linked to my Instacart account and took any necessary precautions. But just wondering if I should be doing anything else?

When I was around 8 years old I purchased a few dolls from my school gala. I want to say I got 3, I swear I had 3 but when we moved houses and had to clean out and we found the dolls (we hid them after strange things started happening) there were only 2. They were old school ceramic dolls, I'd have to do some research to find any exact details about them.
They came with spare clothes and accessories like hats, socks and shoes. There was a female doll- very pretty with pale skin, fluffy eyelashes, long, curly, blonde hair, blue eyes, red lips and she was wearing a velvety deep blue dress and blue boots. She was also wearing a matching hat, I think they are called bonnet hats, very old school style. The other, I think it was supposed to be a male one, had short brown hair, brown eyes, eyelashes aswell and was wearing a faded brown and green plaid long sleeve collared shirt topped with brown overalls and brown boots.
At home, my dad told me not to actually play with them as they were fragile and made more for display (they also came with a stand each). Despite that, I played some sort of 'house' game with them as kids do. Randomly I got a sore throat and was no longer motivated to play with them so I put them away. The sore throat went away and after awhile I returned to them, only to get another sore throat. We stored them in a cupboard by the front door and barely touched them. (They were eventually moved to the garage)
1). Afterwards my parents would always hear a little girl either screaming or giggling. They thought it was my sister and I but we would either be playing outside, sleeping or quietly playing in our rooms whenever it happened. One time it was around 7-9am and my sister and I had changed the TV to one of the channels that streamed music. We danced in the lounge while my mum was in the kitchen doing dishes. She had placed her coffee on the other side of the bench from her while she washed the dishes but all of a sudden the cup fell over and the coffee went everywhere. My mum turned around ready to tell me off (I was the naughty kid always getting told off lol) but not one was there. She looked around but there was no sign of us, we were still in the lounge singing, dancing and laughing. We told her we hadn't been in there so it wasn't us but the cup was no where near the edge, nor were we dancing hard enough to knock over a cup and there was no wind strong enough to push over a full cup of coffee.
This is in chronological order and from between all these event we would all see dark figures floating or just randomly go by but never in too much detail, just like a blob and I would hear my name being called. Once I heard my dad shout out one of my nicknames from the forest that surrounded our house but my dad was in front of me. There was also 4 small holes in the wall next to a power outlet in my room, perfectly fitting a fork.
2.) My mum saw a little girl in a white dress, very similar to one that I owned at that time. She was home alone and had gotten up from the couch to go to her room and she saw a little girl move from the lounge doorway to down the hall somewhere.
3.) Maybe a few months later, my mum and my sister went down the driveway (we lived out in the country and the driveway was very long) to lock the gate while my dad and I stayed in the lounge. My dad sat on the couch adjacent to the TV as he watched rugby or smth and I sat on a couch that faced the lounge doorway and into the kitchen. After a little while I see, what I thought was my sister, walk into the kitchen turn around and walk back out to the hallway. She had brown hair and wore a deep blue skirt. I was confused as I hadn't seen my mum and sister come back yet but I happily shouted my sisters name "Brianna!" and went to go to her but the figure just disappeared (almost dissolved) in the hallway. My dad look over to me weirdly and said "Brianna's down the driveway?".
4.) Some time after, my mum was just chilling with my sister, minding her own business when she starts feeling a burning sensation on her wrist. She looks down and theres fresh red cuts spelling out "1 7 1". Now there could be a rational explanation to this, maybe she brushed past something sharp but the scratches didn't show up immediately. 1 and 7 is only really made up of lines, so it could be possible that it just coincidentally made the number "1 1 7" but based off the pervious events we believed it was a grave number, maybe the little girls grave number. There is 2 cemeteries outside the house, 1 one on a mountain that can be seen outside my (at the time) room window and 1 that is about a 2 minute drive away. Believe whatever you want here, I just thought I should mention it as it creeped us out.
By now we are convinced there's a little girl haunting our house, we would speak of it like it's just a fact and we just carry on with our lives. Items would randomly disappear, even if u placed smth down then left for 1 minute, it would be gone by the time u go back. We all blamed the ghost and eventually I got mad at as a bag of photos I had went missing after I had left it on my bed while I went to go do smth else for 5 minutes and then came back to it missing. I searched everywhere but gave up and got mad and decided to try my luck at threatening the ghost? My mum had told me u can get a "blessing" on a house and it will get rid of the ghosts so I started saying things like "if u don't return that bag, I'm gonna get a blessing on the house and u will be gone" blah blah. I come back into my room defeated after chanting it down the hall. I look at my bed and there it is, the pink bag containing the photos. The bag I had lost and searched everywhere for for 5 minutes was just sitting in plain sight on my bed.
4.) A few months or so later, I was awake at midnight not able to sleep. My bed was in a place where I could directly see out my door. I was just absent mindedly looking around my room and tryna fall asleep when I see a dark figure on all 4's quickly crawl past my door and into my sisters room. I was horrified and hid under the covers for hours until I fell asleep.
I don't remember anything really happening afterwards. Those events all took place over the span of 1-2 years when I was 8-10.
5.) When I was around 11 or 12, I went to bed one night at around 8 or 9. After getting into bed I realised I had forgotten to push my desk chair in but I couldn't be bothered so I just left it and went on my phone. At around 10 I put my phone down and and tried to sleep but there were weird sounds coming from the corner of my room. I was too tired to check at first but after awhile it became really annoying so I grabbed my phone to use the light and pointed in that corner. It was the corner my chair was in. My chair had spun around. It was now facing me when it was facing the opposite way before. There was absolutely no wind, all the doors and windows shut and everyone else was alseep. I had read online that spirits like to sit in unoccupied chairs at night so I was terrified. From then on, I would always tuck my chair in before bed and I sometimes put a pillow or smth on it.
In the morning I was in the car with my mum, I think she was dropping me off at school maybe? And I told her what had happened that night. She replied saying "That's funny, cause around 2am last night I felt my bed and blanket down by my feet go down as if someone was sitting there".
Later on the day, my mum and sister had gone to the Supermarket or smth and my dad and I were home alone. Around this time we we were planning on subdividing our property so we were started getting set up down the opposite end of the current house. My dad told me to get ready, change to clothes that can get dirty, get gunboots on and my water bottle so we could go do some work down there. My dad was already ready and left while I was still in the house. I finished eating something in the kitchen then went down to my room to grab my drink bottle. As I was just about to turn into my room, my t-shirt gets pulled back as if someone tugged on it and then I get these really cold chills. There was no wind and it was a fairly warm day, nor were there any door knobs for my shirt to get caught on. I panicked and leapt forwards to grab my drink bottle then sprinted put of the house as fast as I could. I slammed the door shut snd ended up filling my drink bottle with the hose outside cause I was too scared to go back in.
When my mum got back I told her about it as she walked from the car to the house. She was spooked and decided it would be funny if we used a ghost app on our phone to see if there was someone there. We opened the ghost app and it picks up "hello" and then the 2nd thing it says was "chair". I was so scared as the my chair had moved by itself that night. My mum and I looked at each other blankly.
After that, not much happened, my sister heard weird things in her room, my friend and I took the ghost app out on a dinghy with us and we paddled out around the river by our house and it said a girl drowned there, I had a dream of this elderly lady warning me that there were 2 little ghost girls across the river (that's where the cemetery is) is coming for my mum and I.
We subdivided our property and moved out to the opposite end. We took the dolls with us but nothing else has happned since. What do you think about it? Are the dolls haunted or is there a little girl attached to that house? I can also get pictures of the dolls since we still own them if anyone would like to see.

Just posting a final update here with timeline for anyone interested in a full claims process with UPS. When I first posted I was told it could take anywhere from 15 days to months to over a year for it to be resolved.
4/28 - Package shipped from Chicago to CA. Expected to be delivered 5/5/23.
5/8 - Package delivered. Three days delayed in transit. Arrived with damage to corners. According to artist it must have been dropped off a truck for the damage to take place. Filed claim immediately this day.
5/11 - Received update from UPS requesting proof of sale. Responded with contract with arists and Square payment receipts.
5/18 - Noticed on UPS claims portal that they requested "Location of salvage." Was not emailed or communicated about this in any way so I don't know when the status changed. Immediately uploaded document stating my home address.
5/19 - Kept habitually refreshing on claim page and noticed the claim status changed to "Sent for payment" in the morning. Eventually later that day it then changed to "Paid." Again no other communication. Only after this time did I notice that the claim page allowed me to edit where the payment was sent. Since everyone had told me that the artist would get the money I somehow overlooked this. But still tried and successfully switched the payment details to ACH with my bank information.
5/22 - Received email with letter from UPS saying that payment had been made via ACH on 5/20 and had my bank account number.
5/24 - After not receiving the ACH payment I contacted UPS via the claims portal (since the phone system is dysfunctional) and asked for confirmation of what happened.
5/25 - Driver showed up at my door without any notice to pick up package. Wasn't fully ready but we figured out how to get it ready. Now it's in nowhereland (UPS Overgooods). Sad.
5/26 - Received response telling me that it should have been sent, asking me to confirm I still hadn't received, which I did. They responded the same day telling me they would have finance review.
5/31 - Received response indicating that there was a problem with ACH and so a check was mailed. Told me to follow up if I hadn't received it by 6/5.
6/1 - Check received at my address.
So, 24 days from case opening to payment received. Potentially would have been only 12 if the ACH had worked. It might have been an issue with my changing the details so late idk.
Thank you UPS for at least paying out. Stupid how beautiful art goes nowhere and also stupid how your phone system doesn't work. But otherwise was an okay process.
Original Post

Victor turned around for one more look at what had been his childhood home. It was a three bedroom apartment on the four hundred thirty third floor in the Manchester district of the hive city New Avalon. It did at least have one window facing the outside of the hive, which made it an instant selling point.For which he was glad, it was part of his new inheritance from his parents who had recently died in the latest rounds of terrorist bombings against Canary Corps headquarters, which they both were middle management.
His military leave was coming to an end, his amassed two week respite was only due to his twenty years of service in the imperial guard. As a Captain and veteran of the Emperors many campaigns, he could pull rank when needed.
In five short years he would be able to retire a full citizen. Something his father scoffed at, but that was nothing new, his father scoffed at anything he had ever done. His everything ached, as he turned his back on his former home and made his way towards the transmat pad. Selling the apartment and consolidating his assets weren’t the only thing he was doing on Terra.
He spent those two weeks getting augments that would have been out of reach to a lowly Captain of the Imperial guard. Gene-mods were common throughout the Empire, but there were gene-mods, and then there were gene-mods. His were now top of the line, far beyond the mil-spec given to him in officer school. That, combined with his new dimensional storage add-on allowed him to purchase and store massive amounts of goods for his upcoming retirement.
Some things you could only get on Holy Terra, a nano-forge capable of making anything you have a SBC to construct could be found on most technological worlds. A nano-foundry to make the nanites the nano-forge uses can only be purchased on select worlds of the Empire.
But SBCs can only be found on Terra, and are heavily restricted. But some connections in Imperial Guard logistics pointed him to some people who might have some SBCs that may or may not be considered illegal to own. That combined with raw materials, a habitat module, weapons, food, mining drones, security drones, and forge spiders now filled his dimensional storage.
“Next!” Shouted a bored looking transmat officer in front of Victor. To which he sighed and presented his Imperial Guard ID and his permissions to be transported to Andosious Prime. The officer looked him over in his Imperial Guard Armor, a bit battle worn, but impeccably maintained. It felt much lighter with the upgrades, which was the point. Two hundred kilos of light power armor is still heavy even with the minor gene-mods of the guard. Now he barely felt it as he stood before the officer.
“No baggage Captain Bane?” He asked looking down at this console.Victor kept his face emotionless, something driven into him by officer training. “The guard provides me with all I need officer. No baggage today.” He lied through his teeth.
The officer nodded, that was the proper response, “Thank you for your service Captain, next stop, Andosious Prime!” He said with a flourish as he pressed a button on his panel.The universe went white, time fell away, then he felt like he was falling. This wasn’t what normally happened on a transmat. Suddenly the world came back into focus, blue sky followed by a green forest followed by a brown ground coming up fast.
His mental commands screamed through the interface nodes imbedded all over his body into the scout armor. Retro-rockets fired as he made a hard landing in the clearing of a forest. Two weeks earlier something like that would have hurt bad, if not caused serious injury. Now it just added to his aches.
He looked around, his heads-up display noting the fauna, surprisingly it came back as all Terra based equivalents. Well, they would have been if most of them didn’t say EXTINCT beside their classification in red.
“Captain Bane to Guard unit 117154, please respond.” The hud responded with something he had never seen before. NO SIGNAL.
“What the hell?” He asked himself. He had never been without a signal. “Computer, run diagnostics, maybe the transmat damaged something.” He watched as the diagnostic finished running, no errors, no signal.
He looked up, the sun would be going down in a few hours, he could use the celestial navigation software in his armor to find his location anywhere in the galaxy. Emperor above, he hoped the transmat hadn’t put him on a Xeno world.
He activated his jump pack to launch himself up for a better view of the land. About a thousand meters up he saw smoke coming from a medium sized village… maybe? He could work with that, maybe he was in a non-technological world of the Empire, even those had outposts to get a signal out from.
The jump pack’s capacitors would need to recharge before he could use it again. Nothing to do but start walking towards the village. With any luck he would reach it before nightfall, from there he’d get some answers.
He did not get to the village before nightfall. The terrain made going slow, the ground was soft and muddy, the forest was densely packed with oak trees and rocks. He had to use his jump pack to clear a particularly deep gully and it was slowly recharging.
As he looked down on the village he remembered his navigation software, he looked up to the sky and let the computer gather data. Location confirmed, Holy Terra, New Avalon, District 334.He sighed and looked back down to the village, “Either my suit is borked, or I’m back in the distant past.” He muttered. His armors’ limited AI printed something new on his hud. CONSTELLATIONS OUT OF SYNC BY 4271 YEARS.
Victor froze at the revelation. All the physics classes he took in his youth stated going back in time was impossible, something about paradoxes prevented it. “Computer, do you have any information on transmat failures?” The AI showed it was indexing before coming back with an answer, LOST MATTER IN TRANSMAT HAS ALWAYS BEEN PUSHED PAST THE FINITE CURVE OF THE UNIVERSE. NO FURTHER INFORMATION AVAILABLE.
Victor sat on a tree stump taking in the information. “Well, I’m not in the Empire anymore, even if the computer thinks I am. Nothing to do but head down to the village.” He pushed up from the stump and made his way in the dark towards the oddly ancient eastern looking village.
There was a road leading into the village, a sign stood crookedly at the crossroads, his AI translated it as Wuzhen, with other arrows pointing to Tongxian, Jiaxing, Huzhou, and Wujiang. “Computer, what language is this?” IT IS A DIALECT OF ANCIENT CHINESE, ADJUSTING GENE-MODS TO FOR TRANSLATION.
His vocal cords did that weird thing that happened whenever the AI needed to translate from Terran to another language or dialect. How the gene-mods did it was beyond his pay grade, but everyone always complimented him on his accent, so apparently the technology was sound.
He saw figures up ahead with a ox and wagon. His enhanced vision showed him about what he expected, peasants bringing their wares to town for sale. That was, until he saw the woman had goats eyes. The man had goats horns curling from his forehead but in all other aspects looked Human.
“Emperor above, what is going on?” He thought to himself as he decided he may not want to walk into town in green and black scout armor. He reached into dimensional storage and found a large trench coat that would fit over his armor. He pulled it out and put it on, then sent a mental command to retract his helmet as it whooshed back into the backpack portion of his armor.
As he walked up to the gates he was met with a solitary guard, this man had human features but a monkey’s tail. “Hurry up and get in, we’re about to close the gate house.” Victor pointed a thumb backwards, “There are two people behind me on a wagon coming.” The monkey guard yelled out as Victor stepped into the village past the walls.
“Hurry up you dumb turtles, instinctive are on the prowl and won’t think twice about making a meal of the lot of you!” The guard yelled. This seemed to put some fire under them, as they cracked their whip on the ox yelling for it to move. He sub-vocalized to his AI, “Does the term instinctual in reference to ancient china mean anything?”
The computer spoke back in his inner ear, CHINESE MYSTICISM STATES PRACTICERS OF INSTINCTIVE CULTIVATION BECAME ANIMAL LIKE AND OFTEN CANNIBALISTIC. Victor looked around at the village, seeing the sign for what must be an inn, he made his way across the street narrowly avoiding a steaming pile of horse manure.
The inn was bustling, barmaids with cats ears or pigs snouts served drinks and food to tables and people seemed to huddle close to the strange hearth like fireplace of the inn. It wasn’t like any fireplace he had ever seen. He sub-vocalized the question to his AI and it responded with the word “KANG”.
He found a chair near the front of the inn, far away from the kang and watched the locals. It appeared that coinage was copper discs. He turned his head from the inn and ducked down to bring his helmet back up, “Computer, replicate those discs in the nano-forge from copper ingots, have them ready for me to pull out of dimensional storage, we’ll need currency.”
His helmet slid back into his backpack and he raised his head and turned around just as a barmaid noticed he had no food or drink. “We have veil or pork, beer or wine. What can I get you?” Victor kept his face neutral, something that would have been impossible before his training with the Guard, she looked Xeno after all, the snout was all that was out of place on an otherwise attractive woman.
“I’ll have the veil and wine. Also, who do I see about a room?” He asked.
The boar-kin woman turned her head towards the bar, “Old man Huang would be the one to check with, don’t know if we have any open tonight. We have a lot of refugees from Huzhou after all.”
Victor raised an eyebrow, usually refugees meant something bad, “Refugees you say? I’m new to these parts, what happened?”
The barmaid snorted, which was ironic considering she was a boar-kin. “You must be new, Huzhou was raised to the ground by the instinctives, the Empress has sent a small contingency of the sect of the Iron Paw to defend Wuzhen, as we are a central transport hub.” The barmaid then looked over to a table of women in much more elaborate dress than the commoners, each with a jade talisman on their wrist.
Without another word she brought more drinks to their table, on it stacked plate after plate, bowl after bowl of food. After setting down the drinks she bowed until her snout almost touched the table before hastily retreating from their prescence.
Victor’s AI chimed in his ear that fabrication was complete and he reached under the table to access his dimensional storage, grabbing two handfuls of copper coins he put them in his trench coat pockets. He noted that although the inn was crowded, everyone else avoided the table with the sect women. It was almost as if others had moved their tables and chairs away, as if there were danger near them. The women didn’t look especially tough, they were armed with swords, but mostly dressed in robes of fine silk, no armor to be found.
He also noted they all had traits of tiger in them. Some had tails, some had the ears, some had the eyes. He supposed that was why they were called the Iron Paw sect, not very creative, but he doubted he could do better.
The barmaid came back with a plate of veil, steamed vegetables, and a large cup of wine. As she sat it down she said quietly, “Stop staring at the cultivators, do not draw their notice or they will decide they need make an example of an upstart mortal.”
Victor kept his face stoney as he accepted the meal and looked elsewhere while he ate. The food was quite good although he didn’t like the turnips. The wine was made from rice, and quite strong. He was about to wave the barmaid back over when a bell started ringing. Everyone in the inn froze, well all but the cultivators.
They pushed their plates to the center of the table, stood as one, and marched out of the inn. As they reached the door conversations started up. With Victor’s enhanced hearing he heard variations of ‘They must have spotted instinctuals’, or ‘I hope the iron paw is as fierce as they are rumored to be.’
Victor stood up, asked the barmaid for the tab, placed some copper on the table and raised his collar as he walked out of the inn. He noticed none of the other patrons followed him out, if anything they huddled away from the door. Seeing no-one was around he jumped using the armors powerful servo motors to propel him onto the roof of a two-story store. He almost didn’t clear the roof, landing with a slight thud and breaking roofing tiles as he made his way to the peek of the roof.
He watched as the women of the sect bounced almost weightlessly off of the rooftops reaching the guard tower at the east gate. Bringing his helmet back up his hud instantly targeted over 30 creatures rushing the east gate at monstrous speed. 160 KM/HR, ETA 45 SECONDS his AI helpfully informed him.The creatures were vaguely humanoid, they resembled ware-wolves, and ran on all fours. He watched as the cultivators drew their weapons as one, the human guards dropped from the wall and grabbed long pike-like weapons.
WAR MODE ENGAGED, EVASIVE ACTION REQUIRED fired through his ears as his armor spun from a crouching position and narrowly avoided a sword that stabbed through the ceramic tile of the roof to nearly the hilt. Before him stood a woman with the ears of a tiger in a blue silk dress.
His AI relinquished emergency control of the armor back to Victor as she spoke. “You are fast for a male. Surrender to this Mei, and I will make sure your execution is quick.” Victor cocked his head to the side before partially raising a hand. The bolter pistol appeared in his hand from dimensional storage as he pulled the trigger.
Mei’s eyes were round as the roof beneath her feet vanished in a hail of ceramic and wood, a noise as if a volcano had exploded right next to her severely stunned her more sensitive cultivator ears as she fell through to the second floor. Victor turned to the east wall in time to see a mass of bodies, all female it appeared, as he had never seen ware-wolves with breasts, leap the ten meters or so to the top of the wall. Howls pierced the night air as some were impaled on swords, others lashed out with razor sharp claws tearing into members of the Iron Paw sect.
It was obvious they would not hold that position. If they didn’t retreat they would all be lost, some of the smarter or luckier of the sect began to tactically retreat, fending off claws and teeth with their swords. Victor turned and saw the highest structure in town, a bell tower that stood about five stories high. That must have been where the warning came from, he could get a better vantage point from there.
Suddenly he heard a growl and the woman he had unceremoniously dropped through the roof jumped through the opening and landed as if gravity held no sway over her. “You have made a grave mistake instinctual, for this Mei will end you this…”
____________________
She didn’t get to finish her sentence as she watched the black armored figure with a strange brown robe suddenly launch himself on wings of fire from the roof to the top of the bell tower.
“Mei, Mei! Where are you, we are being overrun!” She heard from the east wall as her sect sisters were back pedaling as the mass of instinctuals climbed over both their own dead and her sisters. She turned away from the strange male and leaped from rooftop to rooftop to aid her sisters in battle.
She landed next to Xiang, who now had a gash across her cheek from combat, “There is someone else here, a male!” She shouted as she drove her sword into one of the wolf-kin that came too close. It howled in pain and retreated, but she knew it was not a fatal blow.
Xiang parried a high swipe of a claw and with a spin kick sent the instinctual she was fighting flying backwards only for it to catch itself with its claws and grind to a crouching halt. “Who? We are in the backlands of the Empire, and why would they send a male, he would surely be courting death against foes such as these!”
Mei blocked a razor sharp claw with the blunt edge of her sword before parrying backwards, “It doesn’t matter, our orders are to protect this town at all costs, don’t let them push us into a blind ally or somewhere we can’t defend ourselves.”
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Victor watched as the tiger ladies tried desperately to fend off the ware-wolf ladies. It was not going well for the tigers, it seemed that although the instinctuals didn’t use weapons, they were faster, bigger, stronger, and meaner on average. His hud counted six cultivators down, two of which were being eaten by the ware-wolf women, the remaining five were being pushed towards center square.
What they couldn’t see was a group of four cultivators coming up on their flank from the south. It seems that even though these sect ladies seem haughty at best, they are the closest thing to the good guys in this fight. Victor cursed as he reached into his dimensional storage, a mark 8 flamer wrapped itself lovingly around his scout armor, as his hands wrapped around the handle and nozzle.
He leaped from the bell tower, shattering roofing tiles and bricks as he dropped the five stories to the ground before firing the retro-rockets in his boots, hitting the ground behind the Iron Paw sect before pouring withering fire from the flamer into the four instinctualists rushing from the south. They howled in agony as napalm lapped at their fur and burned them as they wallowed on the dirt road of the town square trying to quench the fire.
Victor turned around as the women of the Iron Paw were forced back to his position, which worked out fine, now they weren’t in the way. He poured burning liquid napalm into the ranks of the instinctuals. Those that could turned on claws and ran, those that didn’t burned in the street.
He turned around and ordered his helmet to retract, the four standing sisters of the Iron Paw leaped a step back bringing up their battered swords. He allowed his flamer to dissolve back into this dimensional storage. “Stand down ladies, the threat is over.” If anything this made them bring their swords up more.
Mei was the first to find her voice, “You are obviously a master of fire to dispatch so many of the betrayers instinctuals. Who sent you?”
Victor’s face remained impassive, this was new information, the instinctuals betrayed the Empire in some way. “No one sent me, I was in the area, and you apparently needed aid.” Let them decide with that what they will.
Mei slowly lowered her sword, before starting to laugh without much mirth, “In our darkest hour a hidden master appears and saves us from death. You would think we were part of a play or poets story.” The other women lowered what was left of their weapons as well.
Xiang looked Victor up and down, “I have never heard of male becoming a cultivator of war, that is usually the domain of females. I have also never seen clothing or armor like you wear, are you from the Empire?”
Victor sighed, well, here goes. “I am not from the Empire, I am from a far away land called Terra, and at the moment, I am merely passing through.”
The smaller one known as Li spoke up, “One does not simply pass through the Celestial Empire! The wall has stood for millennia untold, only the Immortal Empress remembers when it was built. How did you cross it?”
Victor only shrugged, “Who said I crossed the wall?” As he turned around and walked to the inn he only recently left. The crowd of people parted as he walked in.
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Xiang turned to Mei, “He is a foreigner wandering our land, Shihan must be informed of his presence and bring it before the court.”
Mei nodded her head turning to the final woman left standing, “Hua, travel to Wujiang, let our sisters know what has transpired here and have a message sent back to the Imperial Palace about this newcomer and what we should do.”
Li spoke, “Should we not attempt to capture him ourselves? After all, a male cultivator is a rarity indeed.”
Mei looked over to the smaller Li, “He burned down instinctuals with what appeared to be the forgotten Concept of Fire, for that was the Sixth Level Yang Fire, something we females who cultivate yin are incapable of. No, we would court death trying to capture a hidden master of his power. Did any of you even feel his Chi?” They all shook their heads.
Mei continued, “Then he is hiding his true power from us. When I first saw him leap from the ground to the rooftop I thought him a spy for the instinctuals. When I tried to attack he moved with a speed even I could not match. When I threatened him he simply ignored me, and throughout that I never once felt his Chi. This is a male we must be careful around sisters, now go Hua.”
_____________________
Victor watched as the people in the inn parted before him. He noticed many of them bowing as though he were part of the Imperial family of Terra. He reached the bar where the innkeeper, what was his name again? HUANG his AI chimed in.
“Huang, I require lodgings for the night. Do you have a room available?”
The Ox-Kin bowed so low as to touch the bar, “This lowly one will gladly provide you with a room hidden master.” He raised his head and waved the boar-kin barmaid over to him in a frenzy, “Chun, find the hidden master a room.”
Chun rushed over and bowed before Victor, “Please follow me hidden master?”
“Victor, my name is Victor Cain. Please, lead the way Chun.”
As he followed Chun upstairs to an empty room Victor closed and locked the door, if they want to think he is a hidden master then let them. In the meantime he needed sleep. He reached one more time into his dimensional storage and pulled four small security drones and paired them to his armor’s AI.
One flew out the open window to watch from outside, one crawled under the door to watch the inn, the other two sat inside the room.
Once he felt all was secured he settled into the not so great bed and closed his helmet. He’d worry about everything else tomorrow.

Hey, I meant to write this quite some time ago since I often see posts about biting or twiddling. While it's only an individual experience /anecdotal, it may work for someone else or be a motivation.
My LO (I exclusively feed him from breast + solids) was an easy kid in terms of nursing. When he had his first teeth emerge (~9m), he'd graze me unknowingly, but I'd probably just jerk from surprise in a way he didn't find pleasant and he quickly understood. The mouthfull of boob trick helped as well (areola hurts less than nipple, shoving as much boob as possible into babe's mouth opens it up more and makes it harder for them to bite or bite in a painful manner).
Some grazing and similar non-malicious (but distracted etc) situations or periods would come up but pretty much be resolved pretty promptly if I paid some attention.
Fast forward to about 13?m. Babe started biting me while nursing. On purpose. While it hurt me and I would jerk in surprise, he'd still continue doing it. - First 3-4 days I was in shock and basically didn't do anything, took me a while to actually process the reality. - Next days I started explaining that I don't want him to do that and obv implementing the mouthfull of boob strategy, but he made it an exciting game of trying to make sure to do it when I let my guard down. I also offered alternatives that were good to bite and food or drink, etc. - I'd get bitten less but breastfeeding was a very intense and focused activity and less enjoyable. I started being able to tell his que (he'd literally smile like an angel and then go bite me). Me explaining it hurt snd he must refrain from doing so, unsurprisingly didn't solve the issue since kids don't have impulse control - very soon I finally managed to somehow process all of this and decide to cut it hard, else I won't be able to continue breastfeeding - whenever he'd do it, I told him "you bit me, it hurts, all done for now" "momma's boobies are hurt, they need to rest" - he'd whine and cry and sulk and ask for the breasts and I'd acknowledge his pleas and decline them "I see you want boobies, but you bit me and they hurt now, they need to rest" "I will not give you milk if you bite me like that, here you can bite this/ you can drink this" - if I was nursing to sleep I'd leave him alone after a bite, and he would usually protest and fall asleep. Sometimes he'd come to bang on the door (that's his way of telling us he wants to go out and play) and I'd obviously let him out, but continue refusing the boob even if the nap was postponed or so. - Maybe for another roughly 15-30 min usually. I knew that when he was genuinely really hungry, he was focused on eating, not on biting so the fact that he bit means he won't die without that milk. I'd tell him I can pick him up, we can read a book etc but my boobies need rest since he bit me. - At times I'd use this moment to leave the room and take a shower since he'd whine anyways xD or go to the toilet or on my phone in our office for a minute or two. I'd repeat what is happening "mom left because you bit her" "you bit me, all done, I'm going to take a shower" - within 2 weeks, maybe within 10 days of the first bite, this behavior was basically eliminated and has remained so for the following months.
I'm pretty flatchested and don't wear bras so it's similar with twiddling. I just cover my nipple with my hand or hold his hand (cutely, with fingers intertwined) and when he wants me to let go, I do, but if he'd reach again I'd stop him or if he hurt me I would leave. He barely ever does it and essentially never continues, even if he does reach for it out of curiosity at times.
Good luck, feel free ro share what helped for you :)

I never thought I’d come to the point where I’d rant about this on a random forum but honestly it feels like I am the only one that cares about this problem and nobody wants to listen to me talk about it. I am 19(f), my brother is 17. Since we were young we never truly got along. Just for context. My parents had always been a bit emotionally absent, especially my father who is very physically absent altogether. Whenever i talk to my dad about how misbehaved my brother is he simply shrugs and if he cares he will shout at him for a bit to fulfil his yearly parental goal as a dad of being present. All my mum does when there is a problem with ANYONE in the house is shout, so she often shouted at me or my brother (the two oldest children out of four). When we were younger we had terrible fights which usually ended up with us hitting each other, it’s sad to think about now but we didn’t know better and learnt it from our home life. As we got older our fights were only ever verbal and have always been, I had a bad temper at home due to other childhood traumas and so did my brother and whenever we had a disagreement we would just end up fighting and we could never have a civil conversation without anyone raising their voice. After a while I learnt that being angry will get you nowhere in life and taught myself to be better with my emotions (not saying i’m some golden child but ive learnt to talk things out instead of shouting and throwing insults at someone), sadly, my brother has not done any self evaluation and instead has only gotten worse over time. Im not blaming him but rather my parents, who i love very much but as i get older I can only see them as people who shouldn’t have had kids (or at least so many as 4). Now, before i continue, I dont want to wholly blame my brother for his behaviour and I dont want to say that I an perfect and I dont sometimes annoy him because I definitely do, but as someone who lives with him (and since coming back from uni it seems like we can never get along) he really does piss me off. I dont know when it started, but he started calling my younger siblings all sorts of names that were very disrespectful and whenever he talked to them it was all in a disrespectful and demeaning tone. Let’s say for example, there was a time where my youngest brother (X) is playing on a console, my other brother (lets call him Z) will demand he gets off as if he has some form of entitlement. The reason it pisses me off is because Z had his own console but sold it to buy shoes, but for some odd reason feels he can demand X out of using a console that was bought for X???? So let’s say now, X says he wants to stay on his console because he’s still in a game or whatever, Z will start to shout at X and demand him to get off the console. This usually happened when Z would go out with his friends for the whole day then come back and kick anyone who was in the living room out (even my parents sometimes) to play with his friends on the console????????? It doesn’t stop there. My brother is highly inconsiderate. He doesn’t clean in the house but complains about mess and compares it to all of his friends houses that are nice and clean(but he makes the most mess in the house and refuses to clean up after himself half the time). He has forced my mum multiple times to buy expensive things for him (like £500 shoes) and if she ever objected he would get incredibly angry and say he’ll “never talk to her again”. The other day he left his glasses at home before going to work and there were a few people at home but none were answering the phone, he started to get sooo pissed off that he started sending voice notes to the family group chat calling all of useless and that we aren’t doing anything (this was on a Saturday morning) and was shouting in the voice note calling everyone ‘fucking useless’. It was so agitating because he was getting pissed off at everybody except himself fir a problem/ mistake that he made..?? He doesn’t listen AT ALL! There have been multiple instances where I have tried to talk to him about his behaviour or to simply listen to me when i speak and he wont even look at me when i talk to him about things (unless its about something he wants like money or something). If i tell him off for things in a gentle way he will speak under his breath saying ‘yeah just shut up’ or ‘i dont care’ or ‘whatever i dont care’ and he’ll repetitively mumble those words until i stop talking. He doesn’t just do this to me either, he does it to my mum and i would say he does it to my dad to but rarely because my dad is hardly a parent, rather he is just somebody that we live with and see off to work. Every time i speak to him it feels like i have list all my energy, and whenever i try to talk to my parents about his behaviour all they say is ‘ yes he is very bad’ or ‘ we’ll just have to pray for him’. Today i tried to talk to my mum about it and all she could say is, yeah i dont know what to do about him. It feels like he wants to embody the word disrespectful because thats all hes ever been. He also keeps shouting at my siblings if they don’t do a simple thing for him like getting a glass of water for him he’ll berate them and call them all sorts of names over something as simple as that. His friends enable him too, if he gets into a fight with any of them he’ll make his friends gang up on one and call them all sorts of names. I only know this cause when he calls them he’s really loud even if we ask him to keep quiet (he’d often have these calls late at night), and i remember hearing that one time his friend called out his behaviour and he just cussed that friend and said he was wring for calling hum out like that because his behaviour towards that friend was for a reason… i dont know the full story behind that but anyways.. i digress. Honestly, he does piss me off greatly and sure he could grow out of how he is now because he is only 17 but something happened recently that made me truly worried. When i was still staying on campus, i got a call from my mum ( a few months ago, this year) saying that my brother had threatened a family member (that we live with). He said “I will kill you.”. Do you want to know the reason why he said that? Do you want to know what sparked off his anger? It was because my youngest brother was in the shower… That day my brother (Z) was about to go out with his friends but my youngest brother was in the shower around the time Z planned to get in the shower (in which he didn’t tell anyone about him getting the shower around that time). He started banging on the bathroom door and shouting at my youngest brother who was in the bathroom and in the middle of a shower. Of course its annoying when this happens but it should NEVER aggravate you to that point. To intervene, our older family member, who is like an aunty to us (lets call her Y), told him to wait and that X will come out of the bathroom soon. Eventually it ended up with both raising their voices and Z threatening her violently. My mum tried to hold a meeting and talk to Z about his behaviour towards Y. He was on his phone the whole time my mum tried to talk to him, in which she was talking to him in a gentle manner for the first time ever, and he ignored her completely and left her whilst she was talking to talk to his friends instead. Im worried because he doesnt care at all, i tried to lecture him about it and he wasnt listening at all, he was busy taking a pizza order and then ended the phone call to talk to his friends about an ‘important matter’. The reason why i have started this post is because just now, we nearly fought because i was lecturing my siblings about cleanliness (my house is honestly really messy and my parents are too busy to clean and in not around constantly to help out with cleaning). The question of who made the most mess came up and i told my youngest siblings that they weren’t ‘the number one problem’, Z came out of the living room (that he kicked everyone out of) and heard that and started to ask ‘who’s the number one problem? Cause i know its not me’ and i answered back by saying ‘yes its you’ and giving an example of how he just had a snack and left a mess of it in the living room without cleaning up after himself before he left to go out and and then come back. As i was speaking he just did the same thing he always did, he told me to shut up under his breath until i did. I went to my room and ignored him. I know im not the best sister ever, i also know that how we fought when we were younger contributed to how he is now and his behaviour in school (he was a bit loud and a lot of teachers hated that) turned him into a scapegoat and a black sheep in the family. But i dint know what to do. Do i just ignore him from now on? Should i stop trying to lecture him and communicate things like this to him? Do i just wait for him to move out and cut the whole family off? I honestly could care less about the fact that we dont get along, maybe thats not meant for us, but its the fact that he doesn’t want to be better for himself. Its like he’s getting worse and becoming more selfish and less caring about others around him. Pls share any thoughts you have Sorry for the typos and bad grammar

Last night, I had just returned from a celebration of my sisters 21st birthday, I am 27, so me and my parents and several of her friends went to the bar, we stayed until almost closing, I had driven one of my cars to the bar, but was a bit over the limit okay, I was too drunk to drive, so I called for a Uber to drive me and my sister home. My parents left at 1am, as they were still sober. I had the driver drop off my sister first, after carrying her into her apartment, then we headed to my house. As soon as we turned the corner, I could see my other car missing from my driveway. I got out and I was mad as hell, I looked but there was no broken glass or any signs of how it was taken. I walked into my house, I immediately sobered up with the realization my car had been stolen. I started the search for the license plate number, vin number and my insurance company phone number. I was on the phone with the police when there was a knock, no let me rephrase that, there was banging on my front door. When I open it, 2 police officers were standing there, I said wow, that was quick, they looked at me funny, asked if I owned a 2014 jeep in black, I replied, yes did you find it already. They just looked at me and told me to place my hands behind my back, I said why, they didn’t say anything and just grabbed me and then threw me to the ground and handcuffed me. I was dragged out of my house and placed into the back of a patrol car and taken to the station.
At the station I was fingerprinted, photographed, searched and my blood was drawn, then they took my shoes and belt. I was placed into a cell, while all the time asking what the hell was going on, 3 hours later I was taken from the cell into an interrogation room, I sat there for about another 4 hours before anyone came in, all this time I was not allowed to call or speak to anyone, I still had no idea why the had me like this.
Finally, a detective came in and sat across from me and once again asked if I owned a black 2014 jeep, then he gave me the license number, I said yes, it was missing from my driveway, I was in the process of calling the police when they showed up. He said we will get to that later. He started asking where I had been last night, I told him at a celebration for my sister’s birthday, he asked who was there with me, I gave everyone’s names and as many phone numbers as I could. I said I wanted to know what the hell was going on, he said that I was under arrest for vehicular manslaughter, hit and run, leaving the scene of a crime, and a few more just for good measure. I said again my car was stolen and I had nothing to do with this at all. They pulled out pictures of the accident and the dead bodies, yes there were 3 teens killed from the other car.
I said I wasn’t driving that car; they could verify by contacting the bar, I spoke with the bartender all night, I had even spoke with the bouncer while I was waiting for my Uber. They could also call Uber to confirm I was being driven from that bar and the times. They didn’t believe me at all, they took me back to a cell. This is where I sat for another 7 hours waiting for anything from them. Now I have been in their custody for more than 16 hours.
That’s when they took me from my cell, returned all my belongings, then I was escorted back to the interrogation room this time without cuffs, the detective came back in and he placed a picture in front of me, asked if I knew this person. I did, he was a kid from down the street, I had caught him siphoning gas from one of my cars a few months ago. They told me they found him hiding behind a trash bin close to the accident, he had a broken collar bone and a couple broken ribs. This was the person who stole my car and crashed it into the other car while on a joy ride. They basically told me I was free to go, no apology, no shaking of my hand, just a cold uncaring sense as to what they had just done to me over the past 18 hours of my life. They walked me to the jail gate, and said here’s the case number, I asked If they were going to drive me back home, they said no, it was up to me to find my own transportation. Luckily my car was still at the bar I was at the night before, it was only about a mile away, so I walked, got my car and drove home. I called the insurance company, gave them all the information as well as the case number and I went to sleep. I know there will be more but that is as far as everything stands as of right now.