Replacing sill plate on old house

Knives: -takada no hamono 210mm gyuto suiboku ginsan -takada no hamono 240mm sujihiki suiboku ginsan -takada no hamono 300mm damascus suiboku blue 1 -konosuke 240mm gyuto hd2 -konosuke 255mm gyuto tt (unreleased line) white 2 -tojiro dp 210mm kiritsuke gyuto vg10 -tsubaya takamura migaki 210mm sg2/r2 -shibata tinker tank 180mm aogami super
Story Time: So, I took a day trip to Sakai to visit some smiths, among other non-knife related things (visiting temples, for example). I take the train from Osaka and start walking towards the general direction of Konosuke. About halfway there, a little, older Japanese lady riding a bike rides over from my right.
"hi!"
"...hi."
"Where are you from?"
"California."
"I love California! What are you doing in Sakai?"
"I'm a chef and I came to look at knives."
"Oh... Konosuke?"
"That's one of them, yeah."
"That's me! I'm Konosuke!"
"...what?"
"My son... is Konosuke!"
That's the gist of the conversation (but very much shortened). Turns out this lady is the mother and husband of Konosuke's two founders, Kosuke Kawamura and his father. So she offers to walk me to the shop herself. We head over there, chatting about different things and when we get there, she brings me inside and introduces me to everyone on the staff and then proceeds to walk across the street... where she lives. Easiest commute ever. Before she leaves, I gave her a small gift for helping me.
I go into the gallery to look at what knives are available, specifically looking for a Fujiyama. While they don't have any on hand, they do have a number of other knives (GS+, YS, Sumiro), including a new knife. The language barrier makes things a bit difficult, but I find out that they're calling this line (for now, anyway) TT. I asked Natsuko (the woman helping me, also Kosuke's sister) about it and this is her exact response:
"WT GT225 was made by the blacksmith who was training in SAKAI and the new sharpener who has good skills.
I'm sorry that I'm not able to explain all about it."
So that's all I know about it specifically, but it's sharp as hell and the balance is great. Because it's pretty unique, I end up buying it as well as an HD2 to compare the carbon vs. stainless. As I go to leave, Natsuko stops me outside and asks "Can my father drive you to Takada no Hamono?"
"Wait... what? Um... yeah, that would be great."
So this old man comes out, grabs his car and I hop in. Before we drive off, the old lady from before (I completely forgot her name because she kept emphasizing her last name, so her first name got lost along the way) runs out and hands me a little plastic bag. Inside are two knitted coasters and a smaller "coaster" designed to be an ornament. I don't even know what to say at this point, so I thank everyone profusely and away we drive.
We arrive at Takada no Hamono and it's about 5 minutes before he opens back up from his lunch break, so Kawamura san says "go look at the temple; I'll wait here". I go off and do some temple-y things (praying, goshuin, etc.) and come back a little less than 10 minutes later. In the time I was gone, this man took a leaf (a LEAF!) and hand folded it into the most intricate grasshopper origami I've ever seen and gave it to me. The thing even hops. Anyway, clearly this dude is badass. He leaves and I head into Takada san's shop.
We chat for a bit and he shows me what knives he has available. 3 ginsan knives (a gyuto, suji and nakiri). Then he goes "oh, wait I have 1 more." and goes into the back of his shop and brings out the most baller damascus sujihiki. Having a bit of FOMO, I proceeded to buy three of the four (I opted out of the nakiri since I don't use them at all). He was a bit shocked I wanted all 3, and I told him I was happy to pare it down if it would affect his available stock, but he just said "I'll just have to work extra hard (to build the stock back up)". I also bought a shirt, but unfortunately in washing it, it shrunk dramatically and now it's a crop top on me. Womp womp.
So yeah... people in Japan are typically awesome. I experienced this amount of graciousness all over the country from so many different people.
As far as the other knives, I picked up the Tojiro directly from the Tojiro shop in Kappabashi and the Takamura is from Tsubaya in the same area. One of the sharpeners at Tsubaya, Tomohiro, was super helpful and we're IG friends now haha.
The Shibata... that was actually an order I put in many months ago and forgot about, and as soon as I got back from Japan, I get a notification, your Tinker Tank is ready!... So now I have that as well.
I actually haven't gotten to use all of the knives extensively yet as I've been crazy busy with work and want to really spend the time to use and observe them properly, but what I have used so far has left me with the following impressions:
-Tojiro - I got this knife purely to see what it was like. I also got a couple to give as gifts. It's... fine. It's similar to some Mercer knives that I use as house knives. My friends (who are not chefs nor knife enthusiasts) love them though, so for a starter knife, it's solid, but for my purposes it's not super useful. -Takamura - This reminds me a lot of my Shibata Koutetsu. The Shibata has been my favorite prep knife for over a year, but the Takamura might take the crown there. I find that even as a pretty large dude (6'2'', 185ish lbs), these days I tend towards the 210mm over 240 or bigger for most tasks. The Takamura is super comfortable to use and very sharp out of the box. -Konosuke HD2 - Crazy sharp. Maybe the sharpest, "best" performer out of the box I've used. I have a Kurosaki Fujin, Takeda NAS, Ashi Ginga, Yoshikane Amekiri, etc. and the HD2 is just impeccable. That said, in some ways it's almost *too* sharp. It digs into the board a little and because of how razor-y it is, I'm slightly wary using it (and I'm a 16 year kitchen veteran, so I'm no stranger to knives). Either way though, it's an amazing knife.
-Takada damascus suji - I used this to portion some "mi cuit" ocean trout (it's cooked a super low temp, so the texture is somewhere between raw and cooked and it slid through without any problems. I typically use finer sujis like Ashis for raw protein and more robust sujis like Mazakis for cooked proteins and the Takada is definitely up there in terms of performance for either. The man knows how to sharpen a knife (he worked for Ashi Hamono for 13 years and if you are familiar with Ashis, it shows).
If anyone has any questions or wants any other photos, feel free to ask. And if anyone happens to know anything at all about that "prototype" Konosuke, please let me know.

This came from u/KrowScare in this prompt me.
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Smoke filtered into my dreams, an unwanted guest that always seemed to find a way in. Beyond, a fiery explosion awaited, but I didn't want to go there tonight. I forced myself awake, cold sweat running down my temples. Breathing heavily, all I could think about was the trigger. I pushed it down into the corners of my soul, to the place where it belongs.
I turned on the TV. An infomercial for a set of god-awful paring knives filled my senses with a strange sense of normality. There was a perfectly ordinary woman, donned in a plaid shirt, exaggerating their capabilities and promising you that you can only get the set for 19.95 only if you call RIGHT NOW. Numbers flash on the screen. LIMITED TIME OFFER.
The commercial didn't do the job. I thought about his life again. He was only a janitor, a man of 27 years old. Too young to be beyond redemption. Snuffed for the sake of my child's security. I was a murderer, cleared by the State for my "heroic act of self-defense." Still a murderer, one who'd taken another life by reflex. I hadn't thought about grabbing my gun when I heard the intruder and hadn't bothered to consider the repercussions of aiming directly at his head. All I could think of was my child one room over, sleeping peacefully. I only wish I'd acted more rationally. I could've called the police and protected my son. I didn't need to shoot. I didn't need to kill.
At first, it felt right. He was an intruder, a man with a record who'd burglarized ten homes in the area in the past two weeks. I was in the right to defend myself. Then, I learned that he was unarmed. That he had problems. Maybe he could've been rehabilitated. That he had a family and a life just like I did. Suddenly, what I did felt so wrong. Corrupted. Evil. I realized I was bad. A bad person. I'd put my needs over his. If I'd been willing to take the risk of dying that night, of taking a bullet from the gun he didn't have, then possibly his life could've been saved. I'd put my life over his.
I tried to invent reasons why I was right, why all of these facts didn't matter. I read blog posts from other victims of home intrusions that led to the intruder being shot. I looked for vindication in their stories, for the hope that I could live with myself. What I found was an emptiness in their self-righteous words. They truly believed they had the right to take another life. I couldn't comprehend it.
Nothing worked. I fell deeper into a spiral of depression. I lost my job and had to move back in with my parents, which was the only reason that I'd have access to an infomercial on TV at 2:00 A.M. They didn't want to deal with that "newfangled Netflix."
Just like that, the lady with the paring knives wrapped up her segment. I hoped for something more immersive, something to take my mind off everything. I couldn't have possibly understood what I needed, or how I should confront myself.
When another infomercial came on for some big-name injury lawyer, I didn't think of anything at first. Another boring trip. That's when it appeared on the screen. ACCIDENT. And it just so happened that for the next 30 minutes, I would see ACCIDENT appear on the screen no fewer than twenty- seven times. Each one of them was a reminder of what happened but in a different kind of light.
It had been an accident.
Perhaps the man hadn't broken into my house of his own volition; perhaps he had. I certainly hadn't intended to kill him. That's what happened. Even so, it had been a mistake. An awful one, but a mistake the same. We all made mistakes, how was I to judge myself so poorly for my own? Such a judgment couldn't undo what I did, it wouldn't make things right. Nothing could. It was something I'd have to accept, to live with.
It felt like a cop-out. I thought if I used this logic, there'd be no "bad" people at all, just people who made mistakes. It could make an excuse for any behavior, no matter how sordid. It took away the sword of justice for those who desperately deserved it.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wasn't up to us to judge. No one could see into the mind's eye of another. Nobody could call another person "bad" in good faith. Nobody understood their reasons. Perhaps out of the theft of bread, there could come life, from the intrusion of my home there could've come rehabilitation. I'd made the mistake of judgment by pulling the trigger, by being the executioner.
It was just a mistake, like any other.
StoriesToThinkAbout

This is a bit of a long post.
Hi all,
I am currently 5 weeks post-partum, where my baby was delivered through emergency c-section. A little bit traumatic but thankfully we are both health and happy.
The day after I gave birth, I had received two scathing text messages from two of my friends (let's call them Mandy and Mindy) because I had discoevered that they had both blocked and deleted me, and I had sent them a message asking why. I was left crying in the hospital and I couldn't ignore it so I had to send them a message.
The message was both friends (mind you almost 30 yr old mothers) capslock screaming at me, calling me and my sister disgusting, cruel etc. Mindy even brought up my deceased father - apparently the fact that my father is dead is an inconvenience to her because "if my father was still alive she would've told him". Screaming at me at apparently how horribly we had treated them. I ended up reply and conculded that they need to go therapy.
The kicker was that they both had concluded their messages with a "congratulations, best wishes and we wish nothing but ill intentions bullshit" and Mandy had the audacity to tell me to "focus on my newborn" after she had seen that I was incredibly upset.
Basically, it all started because 1) I had some of my mum's friends over to congratulate me on my pregnancy - it wasn't meant to be a big thing. A literal luncheon for some auntys. I received a messaged from Mindy basically policing me and going off at me as to why I hadn't invited her and her mum, despite the fact we had invited her over to our house a few weeks before. She then kept going on about "how she's not going where she is not invited". Ok??? 2) My sister got engaged and only a few families where invited, mainly as the uncles where there as proxys for my deceased father. It was meant to be a small engagement. We messaged them the next day letting them know that my sister got engaged, and Mandy had sent a long messaging demanding why they weren't invited (my cousin had accidently posted a few seconds of the engagement on Instagram before we had time to anounce it). Why we were purposely singling them out of all events, what have they done, how we had broken their hearts, woe be on me mentality. Mindy didnt even reply. To this day I'm still trying to figure out which "events" they're referring too.
We then met them a few weeks later to a bbq where Mandy kept storming off, Mindy was making remarks with attitutde (apparently my house is in a low class area and she was was taking digs at both me and my sister the whole night). Completely ignoring my BIL.
They even spoke to my brother at his work place (he works at a deli) and opened up topic with him and apparently they had "accepted his apology on behalf of the family". He just said sorry because it was awkward and needed to serve them.
In their final message, They refuse to engage in any further conversations because us leaving the group chat "showed what their friendship meant to them" despite the fact that we said we will put this conversation on hold and if they want to resume they can reach out at a more appropriate time. Mindy kept complaining that we had replied after "1-2 business days" TBH we just shocked at their reply. Each point we had addressed and yet they still maintain want to maintain the fact that we had wronged them so much.
I am not sure why but I keep thinking about this. I know that they were never really friends to begin with, we were only friends when it convenienced them. I think what hurts most is that I thought that they really cared but are so ready to throw us into the trash.

Why am I not surprised that some people would actually complain about a $50 dollar room when the avg ADR (price) for a room near or in San Antonio is easily near $100 to $150+ if you're lucky? Talk about noob travelers! It's ridiculous... 😂
This place is a great deal in my opinion!!!
And now for the TLDR when it comes to social media gremlins any hotel can relate to....
Who's writing these review's anyway? I don't see decent actual working class people complaining over a $50 buck room.... Is it the disgruntled wife who's husband wasn't man enough to tell her, "Sorry hun, this is all we can afford since we're going to Schlitterbahn, 6 Flags, Sea World, and the Alamo with you plus our 4+ kids we didn't even tell the hotel about SO we could get a cheeper rate/stay..."(?)
(...and WE wonder why hotels in New York City will take "guaranteed" government money by housing illegal immigrants and construction workers over wedding parties and normal travelers... Hmmm..... 🤔)
...And then THEY wonder and complain when hotels don't know how much breakfast food hotels should pre-order and prepare in the morning? That's ridiculous! 😂 Oh, and of course it's the "hotels' fault" in their eyes... even though they neglected their own family by not disclosing their needs to the hotel. Probably not by choice but hubby is trying to save money and save face in front of their family. (I get it... The Griswolds did it too...❤️) Meanwhile the WITCHES lay down their social media text spells while hubby is thinking, "Yay, She's not mad at me!" 🥳 Am I not Right?! 😂🤣😂🤣😂 ....By the way, ya married a dimwit... Congratulations. 👍 (That goes both ways btw...)
From what I've seen, this place is pretty good for $50 bucks... It's not like you're gonna be getting much more out of a hotel than a 4 hour nap between the kids finally going to bed after a long drive they probably slept through anyway (thanks to all the Benadryl and Dramamine ya had to give them) and then trying to get showers in the morning before starting your vacation day. 😆
Sure, a hotel could expect these dumbest people/guests ya can imagine and multiply that by the number of rooms the hotel has... but since Obama's 2008 crash and especially after the COVID crap, affording decent staff who have had quantive years in the hotel industry is hard to come by. Hotel management (including front desk managers) used to get 401Ks, but not since Obama... and probably never again. Apparently that's still the hotels' fault. 😂 Yeah right.. Simpleton rule of thumb, "If ya can't afford it, don't expect it."
Of course people could always not be cheap nor neglect their families' lives... Ya know, like actually claim how many people & pets will be in the room incase of an evacuation, give corporate a reason to raise wages for decenty trained employees, and at very least let the breakfast servers know how many people to expect and feed...... but of course that's "the hotels' fault" for --YOU-- being so cheep on your own "family" and not caring about your own kids' well being and lives... Daft families who don't prepare never seem to blame themselves. No big surprise there! Sigh
These people paid $50 bucks for a room, ignored their families needs, and expected a Ferrari that acts like a Winnebago. They don't actually care about their family, the people who actually work there, nor their fellow guests who may now have to go somewhere else for breakfast now. On top of that they want retribution in comps.... And yelp style bitch-craft complaining is all they "socially" know because they don't know how to confront people like a decent human being. It's Friggin Ridiculous 🙄
To be fair I'm sure the issue is as old as the industry itself... But I bet some just probably want their $50 dollars back and think they can take advantage of some lowly hotel because they forgot ya have to pay for parking downtown and Biden's gas/inflation prices are another WTF on top of that... I dig being poor and cutting corners myself. Yet hopefully I'm the type of person that would NEVER do it to MY family. 😭

We arrived to the airbnb and realized that it was an extremely old row house that was flipped. We don’t mind, and we anticipated problems. One door was almost off its hinges so it wasn’t closing correctly. We laughed about terrible flip jobs but didn’t want to be nitpicky, so we didn’t say anything. But on our second day morning I took a few photos of the door just incase.
What could happen happened, and when I was slowly closing the door, very carefully since it creaks and I was closing it with a baby sleeping inside, it fell off. Now the guy is saying the door never had problems and if it was like that in the beginning we should have said something. We are not this guy’s inspectors. We just didn’t want to cause any issues or anyone coming into the house, since the wood seems to be rotted it is not going to be a quick fix.
What should we do?

So much of the drama in this show is hard to follow because so many of the claims come from their outer circles that don't appear on the show itself. It's like... "Joe Guidice's ex-partner who was also Dina's cousin's dog's hairdresser was saying that Joe Gorga's business partner's best friend was involved in something that caused me to lose the mortgage on the house that Jacqueline Laurita's cousin's sister was building alongside Louie". Like... HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON, hahahha.
This happens with Teresa, Melissa, and Margaret way too often, and it makes for all sorts of damaging dramatic moments on the show, and it drags other housewives in too. It often prompts me to step back and think, "what are they all mad at each other about, agiain?" If the Gorgas and the Guidices' drama was actually more on-screen and not occasional retellings of confusing old claims that get dispted 100 times, I feel like I would get it/be more interested in it. But instead I'm just confused and uninvested at this point.

CHP1: Robyn Charlemagne, a vivacious 18-year-old with cascading chestnut curls, slipped through the smoky haze of the private back room in a popular southern California nightclub. The room was cloaked in an air of mystery, its walls adorned with crimson velvet curtains and dimly lit by chandeliers dripping with crystal teardrops. The soft strains of jazz music floated through the air, mingling with the raucous laughter and clinking glasses from the main club area. Tonight, the clientele was a sea of fancy dress and inebriated youth, their inhibitions drowned in the intoxicating mix of alcohol and euphoria.
Robyn, dressed in a figure-hugging black cocktail dress, had dreams of becoming a successful actress. However, her current reality consisted of serving patrons in the upscale restaurant known as "The Golden Elysium," where the elite of Hollywood often dined. It was a place where whispers of fame and fortune danced in the air, mingling with the scent of truffle-infused delicacies.
Meanwhile, Caspian Mortcombe, a dashing and enigmatic film producer in his early thirties, cut a striking figure amidst the crowd. With his commanding presence and sharp jawline, he exuded an air of regal authority. Caspian had recently acquired a reputation for his underground noir films, casting a shadow on the mainstream industry. In search of fresh talent for his next project, he found himself drawn to the allure of this bustling nightclub.
Robyn's naive charm and captivating beauty caught Caspian's discerning eye, and he saw potential in her untapped talent. As he approached her, his dark eyes pierced through her, conveying both power and dominance. He wore an impeccably tailored suit, an extension of his personality, that spoke volumes about his wealth and influence.
The room was guarded by a bouncer, known simply as "Big John." A towering figure with a shaved head and a muscular build, he was a black mountain of strength. Caspian had made sure to slip him some extra cash to ensure their privacy in this secluded space. Big John maintained a watchful eye, ensuring no interruptions disturbed the affairs unfolding within these velvet-draped walls.
As Caspian engaged Robyn in conversation, his magnetic presence captivated her impressionable heart. The allure of the silver screen beckoned, and Robyn found herself drawn into Caspian's web. He regaled her with tales of his past successes, painting a vivid picture of a world far beyond the glimmering lights of the nightclub. Robyn's airheadedness and dreams of stardom made her susceptible to Caspian's charm, her aspirations blinding her to the underlying motives driving his interest.
Their encounter unfolded against the backdrop of a time when grunge music and flannel shirts defined the alternative culture of Southern California. It was a world where wild house parties and underground clubs whispered secrets of rebellion and freedom, carving out a space for artistic expression in the heart of an industry dominated by conformity.
In this dimly lit room, where dreams clashed with reality, Robyn and Caspian's lives collided. The stage was set for a seductive dance of power, ambition, and manipulation, the boundaries between desire and exploitation blurred. Little did Robyn know that this encounter would mark the beginning of a twisted journey, a tale woven with passion, deceit, and shattered dreams.
As the night wore on, and the echoes of jazz music faded into the early morning hours, Robyn and Caspian found themselves tangled in a dangerous game, oblivious to the consequences lurking in the shadows. And behind the velvet curtains, the secrets of the night whispered their unholy promise, sealing their fates in a world where passion and ambition intermingled, where nothing was as it seemed.
The private back room had become a secret haven for Robyn and Caspian. Their clandestine meetings unfolded like a carefully choreographed dance, fueled by their shared desires and ambitions. Robyn's infatuation with Caspian grew with each passing day, as he expertly played the role of mentor and seducer.
Caspian, aware of Robyn's impressionable nature, used his position of power to mold her into his ideal actress. Under his tutelage, she blossomed, her raw talent and beauty refined through his guidance. He pushed her limits, pushing her to explore the darkest corners of her emotions, blurring the line between fiction and reality.
As Robyn's days at "The Golden Elysium" turned into a blur of serving plates and nodding at patrons, her nights became an intoxicating whirlwind of auditions, rehearsals, and stolen moments with Caspian. The boundaries of their relationship were hazy, a web of desire, control, and artistic collaboration.
Meanwhile, the enigmatic Big John kept a watchful eye, guarding their secrets as if they were his own. His imposing presence served as a constant reminder of the shadows lurking behind their glamorous facade. Caspian had ensured their privacy with a hefty sum, and Big John remained steadfast in his loyalty.
CHP2: One fateful evening, as the neon lights of the nightclub flickered outside, Robyn found herself alone in the back room. Caspian had promised her an important announcement, one that would change the course of her life forever. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as she waited, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
The door swung open, revealing Caspian's commanding figure. His eyes, usually filled with intensity, now held a hint of vulnerability. Robyn sensed a shift in their dynamic, a subtle change that made her pulse quicken.
"Robyn," Caspian began, his voice tinged with emotion, "I've secured a role for you in my next film. It's a daring, provocative project that will challenge your limits as an actress."
Robyn's eyes widened with delight and apprehension. She had longed for this moment, to step into the spotlight and leave her mark on the silver screen. But as Caspian detailed the role, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was amiss. The character was complex, enigmatic, and dangerously close to mirroring her own life.
As rehearsals commenced, Robyn found herself diving headfirst into the depths of her character's psyche. The lines blurred further, reality intertwining with fiction in a dizzying dance of passion and manipulation. Caspian's influence over her grew stronger, his control tightening like a vice around her fragile dreams.
But as Robyn delved deeper into her role, the shadows surrounding Caspian began to unravel. Whispers of his questionable tactics and dubious alliances reached her ears, casting doubt upon their once-promising collaboration. The world of underground noir cinema revealed itself to be a treacherous labyrinth of deceit and power plays.
And so, Robyn stood at a crossroads, torn between her burning desire for fame and the nagging doubts that gnawed at her conscience. The allure of the silver screen had drawn her into a dangerous game, one where the line between passion and exploitation was blurred beyond recognition.
CHP3: Robyn stood before the ornate vanity mirror, her reflection fragmented in a sea of gleaming glass. The weight of uncertainty pressed upon her shoulders as she prepared for another day of shooting Caspian's provocative film. The character she portrayed consumed her, merging with her own identity until she could no longer distinguish where the role ended and she began.
On set, the atmosphere crackled with tension. Caspian's domineering presence loomed, his eyes scrutinizing every movement, every line delivered by the actors. The crew whispered in hushed tones about the mysterious underbelly of Caspian's productions, tales of compromising compromises and blurred ethical lines.
As the cameras rolled, Robyn surrendered herself to the role, surrendering her soul to the art of deception. The character demanded sacrifice, extracting fragments of her true self with each take. The passionate scenes with her co-star ignited a tempestuous fire within her, further blurring the boundaries of reality.
Yet, amidst the chaos, Robyn's intuition screamed for her to break free from Caspian's grasp. Doubts gnawed at her spirit, reminding her of the stories she had heard, the warnings whispered by those who had fallen victim to Caspian's manipulations. But her dreams of stardom held her captive, the allure of fame weaving a seductive spell around her vulnerable heart.
One evening, after a particularly intense scene, Robyn found herself alone in the dimly lit corridor outside her dressing room. She gazed at her reflection in a nearby mirror, searching for traces of the girl she used to be. Her eyes, once bright with innocence, now reflected a flicker of uncertainty and defiance.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the door to her dressing room creaked open, revealing Caspian's imposing figure. His face, once a mask of control, betrayed a glimpse of vulnerability. He took a hesitant step toward her, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret and desperation.
"Robyn, I never meant for it to be like this," Caspian began, his voice laced with a fragile sincerity. "I have made mistakes, pushed boundaries, but it was all in pursuit of creating something truly extraordinary."
Robyn's heart wavered, torn between the remnants of affection she held for Caspian and the growing realization of the toxic dynamic that had ensnared her. She mustered the strength to meet his gaze, her voice filled with a newfound determination.
"Caspian, I can no longer ignore the whispers that surround you," she declared, her words resonating with newfound courage. "I refuse to be a pawn in your game, sacrificing my sanity and self-worth for the sake of art."
Caspian's face contorted with a mix of anger and desperation, his grip on control slipping like sand through his fingers. He pleaded, his voice desperate and raw.
"Robyn, you don't understand," he whispered, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I can make you a star. I can give you everything you've ever dreamed of."
But Robyn's resolve remained unshaken. She stepped back, reclaiming her autonomy, her voice steady and unwavering.
"I'd rather carve my own path, even if it means sacrificing the fame you promise," she asserted, her spirit ignited with a newfound sense of liberation.
As Robyn walked away from the suffocating grip of Caspian's influence, a weight lifted from her shoulders. She embraced the uncertainty of the future, determined to forge her own destiny in a world where art and integrity could coexist.
CHP4: Robyn's decision to break free from Caspian's grip marked a turning point in her life, but the aftermath was far from the fairy tale she had envisioned. The offers that flooded in were not the golden opportunities she had dreamed of but instead invitations to auditions for seedy productions that prized her physical attributes over her talent.
Determined to make a name for herself on her own terms, Robyn reluctantly stepped into the world of auditions, finding herself in dimly lit rooms with questionable characters. One such audition led her to the doorstep of "The Velvet Rose," a small production company that specialized in adult films masquerading as art.
The setting was a dilapidated warehouse, transformed into a makeshift studio adorned with flickering neon lights and tattered velvet curtains. The air hung heavy with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap perfume. Robyn, dressed in a simple black dress that contrasted with the flamboyant costumes around her, entered the room with a mix of trepidation and determination.
The director, a sleazy middle-aged man named Marcus, oozed an air of false charm as he beckoned Robyn forward. His leering gaze made her skin crawl, but she swallowed her discomfort, determined to prove her talent transcended the grim circumstances.
The audition scene called for Robyn to showcase vulnerability, to bare her soul under the guise of artistry. As she performed, her words filled the room, carrying a poignant truth that momentarily silenced Marcus's predatory gaze. But the spell was broken as Marcus cut her off, his expression morphing into a lewd smirk.
"Not bad, sweetheart," he sneered. "But let's see if you're as good in other... aspects."
Robyn's heart sank as she realized the true nature of this production. She had unwittingly stumbled into a den of exploitation, where talent and integrity took a backseat to the basest desires. With a sense of resignation and a flicker of defiance, she mustered the strength to walk away, leaving behind the suffocating atmosphere of "The Velvet Rose."
Undeterred, Robyn sought auditions in different corners of the industry, hoping to find a glimpse of genuine artistic expression. But time and again, she encountered the same bleak reality—a world where her talent was overshadowed by the allure of her physicality.
In a seedy underground theater called "The Midnight Masquerade," Robyn found herself surrounded by performers who had long lost their dreams to a cycle of vice and indulgence. The stage was set for a twisted cabaret, where darkness and desire entwined in a grotesque ballet of desperation.
The director, a jaded man named Vincent, exuded an air of faded glamour as he navigated the tangled web of his performers' lives. Each audition felt like a performance within a performance, as Robyn tried to impress Vincent while disguising her own crumbling spirit. But the allure of the Midnight Masquerade was tainted, a haunting reminder that her journey had taken a detour into a world she never anticipated.
Robyn's encounters with these seedy production groups became a mirror of her own unraveling dreams. With each rejection, she felt the weight of compromise pressing upon her, threatening to extinguish the spark that had once ignited her passion for acting.
As Robyn navigated the grim underbelly of the industry, she found solace in the fragments of genuine connections she forged with fellow actors. In the midst of this dark landscape, she discovered kindred spirits who yearned for artistic integrity as fervently as she did. Together, they formed a small collective, vowing to support one another and create their own path forward, away from the shadows that had swallowed their dreams.
CHP5: The collective formed by Robyn and her fellow actors had become a lifeline in the tumultuous world of seedy auditions and compromised dreams. Their bond grew stronger with each passing day, their shared experiences forging an unbreakable connection. They sought solace in late-night conversations, their voices echoing through dimly lit cafes and hidden speakeasies.
Amidst their collective struggle, a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon—an opportunity to perform at "The Twilight Theater," a renowned establishment known for its commitment to artistic excellence. The theater's marquee, adorned with sparkling lights, beckoned to those who craved authenticity in a world of smoke and mirrors.
Excitement filled the air as Robyn and her companions prepared for their debut on the Twilight stage. The backstage area buzzed with energy, costumes strewn about, makeup artists applying final touches to anxious faces. The scent of anticipation mingled with the hum of the crowd beyond the velvet curtains.
But fate, with its capricious nature, had other plans in store. A sudden tragedy struck, shattering the camaraderie that had blossomed within the collective. A devastating fire ravaged the Twilight Theater, reducing it to ashes and tears. Dreams were shattered in the inferno, leaving Robyn and her companions adrift, the ties that bound them abruptly severed.
Heartbroken and alone, Robyn found herself forced back into the seedy underbelly of the industry. Necessity became her cruel mistress, driving her to take a job on a film so deplorable that even the darkest corners of her imagination could not have conjured its horrors.
The production was called "Crimson Temptation," a vile amalgamation of exploitation and degradation. The set resembled a dilapidated warehouse, its once grandeur now decayed and repurposed for the darkest desires. The stench of desperation clung to the air, mingling with the sweat and despair of the cast and crew.
Robyn's character, Amelia, was a pawn in the hands of a sadistic director named Donovan. His presence exuded a sinister charm, his eyes gleaming with malevolence as he reveled in his perverse creation. Donovan's demands pushed Robyn to the brink, forcing her to perform acts that violated her soul, leaving her feeling tainted and broken.
In the depths of her despair, Robyn's spirit flickered like a dying ember, but a spark of resilience remained. She clung to it fiercely, finding solace in the memory of the collective she had lost. Their voices echoed in her mind, reminding her of the strength she possessed, urging her to fight against the chains that bound her.
With each degrading scene, Robyn's determination grew, transforming her pain into a simmering rage. She saw through the facade of "Crimson Temptation," recognizing it for what it truly was—a testament to the darkest aspects of human desire. And in that recognition, she vowed to reclaim her power and break free from its suffocating grip.
CHP6: The dimly lit alley behind the decrepit warehouse where "Crimson Temptation" was filmed served as an unlikely backdrop for an unexpected encounter. Robyn, her spirit bruised but not broken, found herself face-to-face with Caspian Mortcombe, the man who had once held both her dreams and her heart in his hands.
Their reunion crackled with tension, emotions swirling in the air like a storm waiting to break. The flickering streetlamp cast shadows across Caspian's chiseled features, emphasizing the intensity in his dark eyes. Robyn, defensive yet filled with a longing she couldn't deny, met his gaze with equal fire.
"You've stooped to new depths, Robyn," Caspian stated, his voice laced with a mixture of disappointment and concern. "Reducing yourself to this—"
Robyn cut him off, her voice tinged with regret and defiance. "You don't understand, Caspian. I never wanted this, but I had no choice. I'm fighting to survive in a world that's swallowed my dreams whole."
Caspian stepped closer, his voice softening with a mix of understanding and lingering desire. "I know the darkness of this industry, the compromises it demands. But you're capable of so much more, Robyn. I've seen it in you."
Their eyes locked, the intensity of their connection reigniting a long-buried flame. Robyn's heart yearned for Caspian's touch, his presence a reminder of the passion they once shared. A surge of desire pulsed through her veins, drowning out the doubts that had plagued her.
In that dimly lit alley, surrounded by the remnants of broken dreams, Robyn and Caspian gave in to their shared longing. Their bodies pressed against one another, their lips finding solace in a forbidden embrace. The raw electricity that had always existed between them crackled to life once more, their connection transcending the boundaries of reason and consequence.
As their bodies intertwined, the weight of their past dissolved, leaving only the present moment—their shared desire, their mutual understanding of the sacrifices made in the pursuit of their dreams. In that stolen moment, they found solace in one another, a respite from the darkness that threatened to consume them.
But as their passion ebbed and reality seeped back in, Robyn pulled away, a mixture of longing and regret etched upon her face. "We can't keep doing this, Caspian," she whispered, her voice filled with resignation. "The world we live in won't allow it."
Caspian's eyes bore into her, a mix of anguish and determination. "I refuse to let the industry define us, Robyn. Together, we can rise above its darkness and create something extraordinary. We can reclaim our dreams."
Robyn's heart wavered, torn between the love she still held for Caspian and the need to protect herself from further pain. But in that moment, a glimmer of hope flickered within her, reigniting the fire of her dreams. Perhaps, against all odds, they could find a way to navigate the treacherous path of their desires, where passion and artistry intertwined.
CHP7: The California coastline stretched before them, the crashing waves a symphony of freedom. Robyn and Caspian, drawn together by an undeniable force, found solace in stolen moments, their time together becoming a refuge from the chaos of their respective lives.
They sought refuge in a quaint beach house, nestled amidst a picturesque landscape of sandy dunes and rolling waves. The scent of salt lingered in the air, mingling with the intoxicating fragrance of blooming flowers. Here, they could escape the prying eyes and suffocating expectations of the industry that had brought them together once again.
In the golden hues of twilight, Robyn's laughter filled the air as Caspian recounted tales of their shared past, his voice a balm to her weary soul. Their connection, forged in passion and ambition, had stood the test of time, its flame reigniting with a fervor that defied reason.
But as their blissful respite carried on, the producer of "Crimson Temptation," a man consumed by jealousy and greed, grew increasingly restless. Donovan, a ruthless figure with a penchant for control, confronted Caspian one evening, the tension between them palpable.
"What do you think you're doing, Mortcombe?" Donovan sneered, his voice laced with venom. "You think you can just steal my budding starlet and get away with it?"
Caspian met Donovan's gaze, his own eyes blazing with defiance. "I'm not stealing anyone, Donovan. Robyn is not a possession to be claimed. We have a connection that goes beyond the confines of this industry."
Donovan's face contorted with rage, his voice seething with a dangerous edge. "Mark my words, Mortcombe. If you continue down this path, you'll regret it. I have the power to destroy everything you hold dear."
Caspian stood tall, his voice steady and resolute. "You underestimate us, Donovan. Love and passion are stronger than any threat you can conjure. We will not be controlled by your darkness."
As Donovan stormed off, the threat hanging in the air like a noose, Caspian returned to Robyn's side, his presence a shield against the encroaching storm. Their bond deepened with each passing day, their love an anchor in the tempestuous sea of the entertainment world.
Together, they vowed to navigate the treacherous currents of the industry, to create art that spoke to their souls and defied the conventions that sought to confine them. They became each other's muse, igniting creativity and passion with a single glance or touch.
In the late hours of the night, as the moon cast a silvery glow over their entwined bodies, Caspian whispered words of adoration, his voice filled with a mixture of reverence and longing. Robyn, her heart brimming with love, echoed his sentiments, their declarations intertwining like the intricate brushstrokes of a masterpiece.
CHP8: The weight of the industry's demands and expectations bore down upon Robyn and Caspian, threatening to extinguish the flame of their love and creativity. But in the face of adversity, they made a daring decision—to break free from the clutches of the entertainment world and forge their own path.
In the quaint beach house that had become their sanctuary, Robyn and Caspian hatched a plan. They would take their art into their own hands, reclaiming their creative freedom and sidestepping the suffocating constraints of the industry. Their vision became clear—they would create intimate and authentic films, placing their work directly into the hands of their audience.
With trembling excitement and a sense of rebellious liberation, they embarked on their new venture. They turned to a platform called "OnlyFans," a place where they could showcase their films without compromise. It was a risk, a departure from the traditional avenues of success, but they held onto the belief that true artistry lay in the hands of those who were unafraid to challenge conventions.
The beach house became their makeshift studio, a haven where their visions could come to life. Robyn's natural beauty radiated as Caspian captured her essence through the lens of his camera. Each frame whispered of their connection, their love and creativity intertwined in a seamless dance.
As they released their first independent film on OnlyFans, their audience responded with an overwhelming embrace. Their work resonated with those hungry for raw emotion and unfiltered storytelling. Robyn and Caspian became a symbol of artistic rebellion, a beacon of authenticity in an industry plagued by artifice.
In the intimacy of their digital platform, Robyn and Caspian found solace and empowerment. They were no longer subject to the whims of producers or the suffocating demands of the industry. Their art was created on their own terms, nourished by the connection they shared and the unyielding passion that burned within them.
As their independent films gained recognition, they became pioneers, inspiring other artists to reclaim their voices and redefine the boundaries of creativity. Robyn and Caspian reveled in the knowledge that they had escaped the clutches of the industry, creating their own world of artistry and freedom.
In the twilight of the beach house, with the sound of crashing waves as their soundtrack, Robyn and Caspian made a vow to one another—a vow to continue defying expectations, to never compromise their artistic integrity, and to forever choose love over the trappings of fame and success.
Together, they embarked on a journey of self-discovery and creative fulfillment, their spirits entwined as they blazed a trail of artistic rebellion. Their love, once threatened by the darkness of the industry, had found a refuge in their shared passion and unwavering devotion.
​
To be Continued.......?

TW: Emotional neglect/gaslighting, sexual assault, forced alcohol consumption, suicide, self harm. -I'll talk briefly about my childhood, then a really traumatic incident that has caused me severe dissociation issues. I have diagnosed ADD, C-PTSD, severe anxiety, and depression. I have DP/DR episodes, but I haven't been formally diagnosed.
I can't remember a lot of my childhood. Sometimes, I get faint glimpses of memories. My mom has always been bad in my eyes. She'd always gaslight me and my sister, she'd intentionally trigger my sensory issues no matter how much I tried to get her to stop. She was never physically abusive, but she was very manipulative and toxic. My dad was okay, but very strict. They were both emotionally neglectful. I never have felt like they were proud of me and rarely that they loved me, or that they cared about my needs. I don't believe that I had a traumatic childhood necessarily, but it wasn't really a good one. I always feel like my childhood was so much better than others' so that's why I don't think I'd have OSDD. I didn't have 'severe childhood trauma'.
Skip the following if you are sensitive to any of the TWs I mentioned. ***Where the severe trauma happens, is when I was 14. I met a 17 year old boy, and he wanted to be my friend. At the time, I didn't realize he was older than. I never agreed to being in a relationship, but he kinda forced me into one. He ended up sexually assaulting me despite me telling him that I'm asexual and I absolutely do not want to have any sort of sexual relations. I tried to escape, I really did. He manipulated me into staying. At some point, he got me drunk. I remember that I was telling him I didn't want to drink. He held the cup to my lips and forced me to drink the entire cup of whatever it was. I can't remember anything after that. I don't want to remember anything. Whether it was the alcohol or my mind suppressing the memories, but it's all gone. I was extremely suicidal and was self harming daily, and while I had been prescribed antidepressants, he forced me to stop taking them. At some point, I broke. I downed a handful of pills and woke up in a hospital 3 days later. I have vague memories of seeing myself through an outside perspective during the night of the attempt, but after that, it's all blank. During the two days after my attempt, apparently I was completely lucid and, if anything, I was happy and talkative, but I have absolutely no recollection of being awake. When I heard what I was like, I was incredibly confused. I'm shy, very quiet, and nothing like who was described.***
TW over After that incident, I've had very bad DP/DR episodes. Nearly every day, I dissociate to some extent, but some days are worse than others. It often feels like I'm not inside my body. Not necessarily that I'm out of my body, but I'm just not there. I also feel derealization, my room isn't mine, the things in it aren't real, I'm not real, I don't know where I am (despite being in my house/room), etc. I don't really hear or sense different alters. I have inner dialogue, I talk to myself in my head a lot. I like to have conversations with myself, especially when I'm panicked. It's like there's different 'me's in my head that I talk to. I don't think they're distinctive enough to be considered alters or personalities. They're each like me, but different parts of me (not just emotions, or sides of me though, I can't really describe it.) Sometimes I have what I think is dissociative amnesia. I'll have no memory of anywhere between 5 minutes to 3 days at my worst. I'm not sure what triggers it. I'm clearly still functioning during these blanks, but I just don't know what happened.
I feel really alone because I don't think I have OSDD, but at the same time, I feel like it's more than just DP/DR. It feels like no one else understands what's going on in my mind. Even I don't understand it. My friend has DID, but my experiences are nothing like his. I'm afraid everyone will think I'm faking disorders for attention. I don't want to have OSDD. I don't want to have any of this. I just want clarity about what is happening.

Timestamp: https://i.imgur.com/fsyWvbT.jpeg
Just clearing out some stuff I don't need anymore. All in great shape. They are just duplicates or leftovers from things I no longer have.
NOT my feet pics
2X - H&K P2000 / USP Compact 9mm magazines - 10 rd versions for ban states. $60 for the pair
Walther PDP / PPQ magazines 1x 18 rd PDP Full Size magazine - these also work in Compact, F-Series and PPQ M2 - $30 1x 15 rd PDP Compact / F-Series magazine - also work in PPQ M2 - $30 3x 15 rd PPQ M2 magazines - these also work in PDP Compact and F-Series - $30 each The only difference between PPQ and PDP magazines is the text on the butt plate - PDP say Walther, PPQ say PPQ. aside from that, they are identical.
Streamlight TLR1-HL - FDE - excellent condition. Came on a used gun I picked up, but I already have all the lights I need. - $100
Tier One Axis Slim for CZ P-07. Great holster. I've just switched to a Slim Fit Gladius instead. Seems like I change holsters as often as underwear. Would also fit P-09 withbslide/barrel protruding 1/2 " - $75
Black Arch Entrada for Walther PDP - Was originally purchased for a 4" Compact. 4.5" Full Sized also fit in it just fine. When I got the 3.5" F-Series, I trimmed the kydex length to be flush with the end of the 3.5" slide. Still used it for 4" and 4.5" after that too. - $60

Rules: See something you like? Call dibs in this thread, and then send me a PM by Clicking here to send me a PRIVATE MESSAGE! Per sub rules, use PM, not Chat.
Also, if you call dibs and/or message, failure to complete the sale within 2 hours loses your place in line. (during typical daytime hrs - 8AM to 10 PM CST - I won't be replying during sleeping hrs) Sorry. Have had too many dibs then ghosted...
All prices are shipped via USPS Priority. Under 11 flair use PP F&F. 12+ flair can use G&S but need to add 3%. I also accept Zelle, Venmo, or Cash App NO NOTES IN COMMENTS
Key words Heckler Koch T1 Tier1 Tier 1

About a month ago, I had a client reach out to me on Rover to housesit her 19 year old cat. I went over to her house for a meet and greet and everything went well for the most part. She offered to go off app and pay me through Venmo, which I was okay with because that 20% does hurt a bit lol. I absolutely adored her cat as she reminded me a lot of my senior kitty and I just have such a heart for older animals! The owner was okay, she did talk a lot and rambled on about random stories, but I just figured it was because she was an older single lady who was probably lonely. Little did I know she would turn into the worst client I've ever had!
The actual housesitting went fine, the kitty just slept all day in her bed besides getting up for food, water, and her litter box. However, there were a couple red flags from the owner that I should have not ignored. To start with, this lady had ring cameras everywhere, I mean everywhere! She had 6 cameras total, 2 outside and 4 inside in practically every room except the bathroom. Normally cameras are not an issue for me because it doesn't affect how I care for animal, but as I was typing in the code to open the front door, she literally started talking to me through her ring camera and repeated all of her cat's care instructions that she already told me the day prior. It completely caught me by surprise and kinda rubbed me the wrong way but she didn't do it again for the rest of the stay. I just figured she had some anxiety about leaving her baby with a petsitter, which I totally understand so I didn't mention it or let it affect the rest of the stay. Halfway through the stay, she also messaged me asking if I could send her a picture of my ID. I told her I was not comfortable sending a photo of my diver's license, but reassured her that Rover does background checks on every sitter before they can accept bookings. This still did not satisfy her, so I offered to send her a picture of my university ID because that only has my name and my picture. She was good with that. During the day, I would leave to go do other drop-ins, walks, and go back to my house to feed my own cat and spend time with him too. She was aware of this before the booking, but anytime I left the house even if it was just for a couple hours, she would repeatedly text me asking me when I was going to be back. It was frustrating because it felt like she was micromanaging me and not letting me do my job. It also kinda made me uncomfortable to know that she was tracking my every single move through her obsessive amount of cameras. Eventually, the end of the stay came and she was very grateful and paid me promptly.
A few weeks go by and she asks me to housesit her cat again. I really didn't want to, but I like to make money and I have a hard time saying no to people. This time she asked me to housesit from Monday evening to Friday morning. I had recently set my profile to "away" for housesitting because I could tell my body needed a break from it and it was hard to be away from my own pets and fiancé all the time. I told her I wasn't offering house sitting at the moment, but I would be more than happy to do drop ins. She agreed and the only instructions she gave me were to stop by once in the morning and evening, no specific times. Looking back, I should have asked her for specific times, but I figured that she was trying to be accommodating and let me decide depending on my schedule.
The drop-in visits went great and sometimes I even stayed a little longer than 30 min just because I really enjoyed her kitty. I always sent her plenty of pictures and updates every visit that she was happy with. One night around 9pm, she texts me asking if I could send her a picture of her cat because she missed her, so I sent her one that I had taken a couple hours prior at the drop-in visit. After that her whole demeanor changed and she stopped responding to any texts or pictures I sent her altogether. I continued the drop-ins with pictures and updates even though she wasn't responding and sent her one final message after the last one letting her know her cat was happy and waiting for her to get home and that she could venmo me the $135 when she got the chance. 24 hours go by without a response from her and I started to get worried if she made it home safe or that she cat was alone without food/water since she never acknowledged that she made it back home. I sent her another text asking her to please let me know if she made it home safe. Another 12 hours go by and nothing. I try to call her and she doesn't answer. At this point, I'm worried and I can't help but think this is why she suddenly stopped responding to updates a few days ago. I sent a venmo request to her for the amount and decide I'm going to wait another 12 hours before I call the police to do a wellness check.
The next morning she finally responds to my venmo request, but only sends $100 and not the full total of $135. She leaves a message for me in the venmo transaction saying that she's only paying me $100 because I lied to her about being at her house when I actually wasn't. Before I could even process what was happening, she texts me and says that she was in the ER so that is why she didn't respond. She claimed I took pictures of her cat and then sent them later to make her think I was there when I actually was not. She said "You must have forgotten I have cameras and neighbors with cameras. You know her schedule and ignored it. Obviously you're no longer needed and you should be ashamed of yourself. You're also blocked so no need to reply." She had also gifted me a bottle of champagne before she left because I had just graduated college and told me "Oh and you're welcome for the champagne".
I was totally stunned and horrified. I was so hurt that she accused me of lying about taking care of her cat, I would never do that to any animal. I am the number 1 Rover sitter in my area and I take my business and care for animals very seriously. Why would I lie about that when I am painfully aware she has cameras? Also, what schedule could I possibly have ignored? There was no schedule because she never gave me one. It was just flexible times in the morning and night and I did that. At first, I thought she was misunderstanding that one night I sent her a picture of her cat and thought that was me trying to say I was there when I wasn't, but she was the one who asked me for that picture. She also made it very obvious that she watches all the footage of her cameras, so she would know if I was there or not. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like she was watching me the whole time trying to find something I did wrong to get upset about or accuse me of. Instead of just asking me if I was at her house that evening like a normal person, she asks for a picture and then assumes that is "proof" of me saying I'm there when I was not.
Safe to say I definitely learned a lot from this situation about how I'm going to handle bookings with clients in the future. Thankfully, because this booking was not on Rover she can't leave me a bad review, but I still don't like the way she spoke to me. She was so rude and petty. She said she trusted me, but clearly she didn't because she was watching me all the time. I hated how she micromanaged me by watching my literal every move through her cameras. Why didn't she just communicate her feelings/concerns to me right away? I should have known she was going to give me a headache and she will definitely not be missed!
Have y'all had any experiences like this?

My emails are out of control. My photobank is massive. I have saved and stored so much - and probably duplicated things when doing backups of old computers and transferring it all across to a new device.
Like I'm pretty tech savvy - and I used to be super on top of things like my emails. But at some point it's gotten pretty out of hand - and god what I wouldn't give for someone to go through my massive email accounts (yes, accountS) and help me cull them and unsubscribe from all the junk. Figure out which accounts I need so I can only have a couple not like 10.
I've got thousands on thousands of photos. I've got seemingly endless files that are poorly organised. Even I don't remember what logic I applied to how I sorted things.
I've managed to get my house pretty well organised and cleaned out with some help. But I work full time at a desk and doing more desk time out of hours seems so tedious and I have given up.
I feel like assistants exist - so maybe there's a job like this? But I'm also scared of letting someone go through all my stuff. Any ideas, thoughts, insight appreciated!

I recently bought a ps5 and gave my old ps4 to my little brother. Whenever we try to play with each other we have very bad connection issues (we are on the same WiFi and in the same house). Whoever is the host will be fine but the other will lag very badly. I assume it has to do something with us being on the same WiFi but I’m not sure. Is there a way to fix this or do I need to make a LAN connection. We can always play zombies on split screen but it hella annoying😭. Thank you

So I'm parked in front of a duplex and I'm getting ready to get out of my car to deliver the food to the right side of the duplex, when a Karen comes walking by and shouting to me "you can't park here!" when it is on a public roadway. I told her I am delivering a package for her neighbour, to which she goes (very rudely and still shouting) "I don't care! You can't park here". So I get out of my car and deliver the food and while I'm walking back, I see a lady (who I presume was her daughter-in-law) taking a picture of my license plate. I confront her as to why she took a picture, and she tells me it's because I'm parked in front of her house.. I told her it is also her neighbours house to which I am delivering to and ask if she's going to call the cops.. oh wait no because I didn't do anything wrong. She says she is going to contact my employer because I am parked in front of her house and being a bitch to her mother in law to which I almost started laughing out loud. Anyway I get back in my car, told her to be a Karen somewhere else, as she was still standing there cursing at me. It amazes me the audacity of stupid people sometimes.

Peregrine the fairy has been the apprentice of his town's finest gem crafter for a little over a year now. He couldn't be happier with the position. He's always wanted to work in this field and to end up working under the finest? It was a dream come true. Not only was this his first visit to Stonewrought but he was being sent alone! His master had sent ahead with the order. He had been given the gold. All he has to do was inspect the product for quality, pretty much a formality at this point considering the dwarves' work, and then.. recover from the sale. He was happy that he was being trusted with this job but deep down he knows it's because his master didn't want to deal with that anymore. He isn't exactly young after all.
If he had been standing Peregrine would be just under a foot tall.. but he was currently sitting cross-legged on the front of the small heavily armored metal wagon that was being pushed along by the shimmer he was projecting behind it. The armoring for the jewel cart was almost pointless. Very few people want to provoke a fairy. Very few people enjoy exploding. Even going through a portal, he was still not sure how he felt about that experience, this trip had been going on for several days now. He was currently traveling up a well crafted smooth path cut deep into the mountain surface. He couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship on the bronze lanterns hanging from a pole every 20 feet or so. Nobody could top the dwarves when it came to metalwork.
A while later he came around a bend that had been obscuring his vision and finally could see the entrance to Stonewrought. A massive rectangle carved into a sheer face in the mountain. At least 100 feet tall. Even from where he was sitting he could see how elaborate the carvings were around the entryway. On either side of the entrance were statues of dwarves just as tall as the entrance itself. 2 holding rifles, 1 an ax and one raising a flagon. He had heard the story but barely remembered. Some great dwarven heroes of the past. Maybe they had something to do with that death nymph thousands of years ago? He had never been good at history despite his people's obsession with archeology. He only had eyes for jewels. Well..also that girl who worked at the bakery across from his gem shop.
As he approaches the city he passes between guard towers occasionally. From where he is sitting he can see the rifles leaning at the ready. All the dwarves at least wave and grin as he passes. Most raise flagons as way of greeting. It really was true about how much dwarves love their beer he is learning. He's seen a few in his life but never really approached them. Whenever they came to his village it was to visit the archaeological museum they had built just outside of town. It was by far their largest building..it was constructed so all races could enter and learn from what his people had uncovered. He hadn't been since he was a child and it was required as part of his education. All he really remembered was some old jewelry from the race who built the portals.
Finally he approaches the gate. As he was nearing it he had noticed the small windows with more riflemen in them between the carved entrance and the statues. 2 dwarves had approached from a guard house as he neared. The shimmer behind the cart vanished as he stopped to talk with the guards. "Fairy eh? Gem crafting business?" One dwarf said happily..but very loudly. The other was drinking. From where he was sitting he could see several kegs in their guard tower. "Yes! My first time here actually. I'm excited to see your city. I've heard it's amazing." He said earnestly. The dwarf who was drinking stopped long enough to scream "AYE!!!" while toasting then drank deeply to celebrate. "Who are you here to see? Do you know where you are going?" The first dwarf asked. Peregrine turned around and held out his hand. The several locks along the top of the cart opened in a shimmer and a parchment map floated out from among his supplies. It unfurled itself in the air where both him and the dwarf could easily view it.
"Actually yes! I'm going to MacIntyres. My master has this map he lent me. Marked it and everything." He gestures at the map with the glowing mark on a business deep in the city. "MACINTYRE!! He beat my brother unconscious in a bar brawl just last month. Great man. Had him 'round for dinner the next night." the dwarf roared happy as can be. Peregrine just stared. He had no idea how to respond to this. The dwarf didn't seem to mind his silence at all. "Well then! On your way I'm sure you have lots to do!" He said happy as ever. "AYE!!" yelled the other dwarf between drinks.
Peregrine waved happily as he recast his spell to start pushing the cart again. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of his first interaction with dwarves but they seem very nice. As he passed through the great entryway he looked up and around. He saw the large slots in the wall going all the way up. He had heard that the entire entryway had extremely strong iron gates that could be pushed out to seal off the city. He couldn't imagine metal work that large. Very quickly the pathway starts heading downward at a sharp angle. He quickly deactivates the spell pushing and cast another one in front of the cart to keep it from moving too fast as gravity pulls it down the pathway. As he moves down the path he can't help but marvel at the bronze and stone walls with their elaborate carvings.
After nearly 10 minutes of traveling deeper into the mountain he finally enters the city itself. He is in total awe. He can barely make out the mountainous roof of the miles and miles of city stretching out before him. How can all this be underground? How could they have carved all this? They don't even have magic! The buildings are all stone and metal yet very warm and inviting looking. All of them with elaborate carvings. He manages to gather himself together and waves his hand bringing the map back up to his side. He examines it and starts on his way down a beautiful street lined with shops. He looks at them in curiosity as he goes. Clothier. Shoe maker. Tavern. Butcher. Rifle shop. Tavern.
He rounds a corner into what the map tells him is the theater district. He has heard all his life about dwarven theater. He's always found it odd, and now that he has met some dwarves downright preposterous, that dwarves are the greatest playwrights and actors on Lumina. He's never actually seen a play put on by the dwarves but he has seen his people act one out. He has to admit the story was amazing. He is approaching elaborate doors on his right at the top of beautiful marble stairs. This must be their main theater. As he gets close people start flooding out talking excitedly. The play must have just ended. He stops to allow the crowd to pass and watches the people as he does. Mostly dwarves but he spots several other races in there. An entire group of gnomes pass by. He's never seen one of them before. A redhead in all green floats out of the door and he immediately recognizes her as a wood nymph. He's very taken aback by this as they rarely venture out of the forest. He has seen them in his village of course but his people have a unique relationship with them.
Even by wood nymph standards her flight is wobbly. As her and the young human female accompanying her get closer he sees she is openly crying. The human has a weird mix of exasperation and amusement on her face. "H..h..HE HAD TO CHOOSE!! Why did he have to choose Nyx??" She slurs at the top of her lungs, clearly drunk. Her friend, Nyx apparently, says "I know Abigail. It must have been so hard." Her tone is soothing but Peregrine can tell she's holding back laughter. As they pass out of view the wood nymph cries harder than ever and almost falls completely out of the air. The city is definitely not what he was expecting. Finally the crowd disperses and he's able to continue.
A few more turns. A few more streets. A dozen or so more taverns. He finally reaches the shop. There is quite a bit of debate among fairies in his village about who to go to for raw gems but his master swears by MacIntyre. Apparently their families have had a working arrangement for several generations. He parks his cart near the door and, wings fluttering, enters the shop. Walls. Tables. Cases. All full of gems. Despite how long he had been at this he doesn't think he has seen this many gems throughout his entire life. As he looks around a dwarven head appears in a window leading to another room. "You must be Peregrine!" The Dwarven male yells happily in a deep masculine voice. He disappears from the window and enters the room through a door nearby.. and the extremely large breasts take Peregrine by surprise. He had heard, with their beards, it was very hard to tell male and female dwarves apart but he never thought it would be this hard.
He quickly recovers from the shock. "Yes! Are you MacIntyre?" He says politely. "Mrs. MacIntyre! Normally my husband would handle this but he felt like heading to the tavern. Speaking of which! Where are my manners? Come! Come! We have everything ready for you." She says as happy as all the other dwarves have been. Peregrine flutters along behind her as they enter the room she had just left. Laid out along the extremely long table is the entire order. A years worth of raw uncut gems organized by type and size. He immediately begins flying towards the gems to begin his inspection but is cut short. "No! Where is the fun in that? Drink! Drink!" She shouts happily gesturing at the table on the far side of the room. There are six kegs on the table all together. Three of them are fairy size along with a flagon made just for his people. He knew this was coming. He does love their beer but.. not a lot of it. Hopefully he can get through this and somehow politely turn down a few drinks.
Wings beating quickly he flies over and fills his first flagon. As he drinks he does somewhat understand why the dwarves can't stop. During his 1 beer Mrs. MacIntyre drinks several herself. Finally he finishes his beer and it seems she's happy for the moment so they can get to work. He goes up and down the table, row by row, very slowly. He trusts their work but he wants to prove to his master he's really putting in the effort. He examines each gem both with his tools and magically. Every few gems she happily declares it's time for more beer. At first he's frustrated because he really doesn't want to drink but as time goes on he doesn't seem to mind anymore. As the beer starts really affecting him the conversation turns to relationships. She happily tells him about how she met her husband out in the forest when it turned out they had been tracking the same boar to hunt. He has very little relationship experience to discuss but ends up finding himself spilling his guts about the cute fairy who works in the bakery across the street.
"H..her WINGS!!!" he shouts, reminding himself of a dwarf. "So pink! S…so delicate! So SHAPELY!!" He flutters toward the kegs of his own free will this time. It takes him 5 tries to get the flagon under the tap. "D..don't get me wrong. I'm not that kind of fairy. I..I don..don't just look at a girl's wings" he adds worried about how he sounds. "Of course not! But we all notice things. You should see my husband handle a rifle.." Mrs MacIntyre says. As he goes back to work drunkenly, but still accurately, inspecting the gems he continues telling all about Rosalind. He talks about how often he goes to the window just to see if she's visible working. How he goes there everyday for lunch even though he doesn't particularly like bread. How his conversations with her are the best part of his day. "Well? Why not just tell Ms pretty wings how you feel?" she asks in the closest thing to a soft tone a dwarf seems to be capable of. "I…i…i…" and that's where things go a bit blank for Peregrine.
Next thing he knows he's waking up in a dwarvish room that's his size. He had been told to expect this. The dwarves long ago learned fairies were going to need some place to sleep off the beer and constructed these just for them. He slowly sat up, his head throbbing. "These…are not my clothes." he thinks to himself as he throws off the blanket. He decides to solve that mystery later as he looks around the room. He zeros in on a large jug of water with a set of glasses on the table against the opposite wall. He quickly gets up and attempts to fly to the jug but the beating of his own wings is just too much sound for his throbbing head. He makes his way to the jug and, ignoring the glasses, drinks the entire thing quickly. He makes his way to the door and slowly opens it and steps outside.
He sees his room was built halfway up a wall and he's now standing on a ledge. As he looks left and right he sees there are several more fairy rooms. "They really do like to be prepared.." he thinks. He walks to the railing along the edge and looks around. Judging by the normal sized doors lined up along the other wall he's in an inn. Just as he's coming to this conclusion a door opens at the end of the hall and a familiar face pokes its head into the room, sees he is awake, and smiles brightly before entering the room fully. "Well hello! You have been asleep quite some time." Mrs MacIntyre says in a voice softer than he thought dwarves were capable of. He is extremely grateful for this. "I don't remember how I got here. Or…these clothes…"
Mrs MacIntyre laughed loudly despite her attempts to keep quiet for his sake. "I myself brought you here. See those hinges on the wall? That lets us open the entire room. Your people usually need help getting in bed. As for the clothes…not long before you passed out last night you declared yourself to be lord of the gems. Your first proclamation was to outlaw clothing and then you burned yours. I have to say you are quite the dancer." Peregrine's face burns bright red in shame but he presses on. Part of him doesn't want to know but at the same time…he has to find out what else he did. "Did…I do anything else horrible?"
"Horrible?! Your dance was the highlight of my year! And besides..you seem to need to learn to loosen up anyways. Other than that we mostly talked about Rosalind. How much you love her. How scared you are to tell her. And….quite a bit about how you want to chew on her wings. You were very detailed about that." She smiled brightly as she said this as if she hadn't just said something even more terrifying than his clothing law. All he could do was lean on the railing and hide his face. "Don't be ashamed!! You opened up to me. You can with her as well. Well…maybe not about the wings just yet. But reading between the lines and speaking as a woman…from what you said of your conversations last night..it really sounds like she is interested in you as well"
Despite the shame he looks up hopefully. "You really think so?" He says quickly. She smiles and nods. "Last night we had quite the conversation about her love of the hanging bioluminescent vines along a lake near your village. She brings it up a lot you said. Silly fairy..she's been dropping hints about a date for months." His jaw drops. That…sounds very possible. The fear is still there but that has given him a lot of hope. "I…thank you.." he manages to say between his racing thoughts. "It's my pleasure Peregrine! Now..do you think you are ready to begin the trip home?" She says. This snaps him back to reality. The inspection! "Did I inspect the gems?" He asks quickly. "Inspected. Juggled. Danced with. Blew one up because it offended you somehow. Your master doesn't need to know. I already replaced it." More shame fills his tiny body but he tries to hide it. "Thank you.." he manages to say.
From there she leads him downstairs to the inns main room. They eat an amazing breakfast and she tells him more about the signs she noticed about Rosalind. By the time breakfast is over he is feeling rather confident. They make their way through the city back to her shop. His cart is still parked outside and she informs him they loaded it for him. They say their goodbyes and he thanks her from the bottom of his heart for her insight. As he is leaving the city he is barely paying attention to the journey. He's building an entire life in his head.

I (20f) used to live on a farm in the literal middle of fucking nowhere with my mom and her new husband A. she married A when i was 9, and we didn’t move out of his house until i was 14. i saw my bio dad every-other weekend through this time (bio dads not the best either but not nearly as bad as A. A is an extreme “functioning” alcoholic with some sort of undiagnosed mood disorder. he never hit us but he threatened to all the time, he would scream all night long, call us lazy, call my mom a whore, my sister fat, my brother a bastard. i would clean the whole house ALL DAY and he would come home and purposely leave his muddy shoes on and drop dishes to break them)
Ive been diagnosed Bipolar II with PTSD from living at his house along with events that happened when i was 14, 15 & 17.(i’ve been diagnosed since i was 16). Three months ago i started getting all these flashbacks in both dreams and waking life of my step dad (A) SA me when i was around 9-11.
I’m in trade school for massage therapy right now. I told my mom what i’m remembering happened with A, she SAYS SHE BELIEVES ME, SAYS SHES “SORRY THAT HAPPENED”, but will not divorce him. she’s saying she doesn’t have the money to divorce him, she has too many expenses, he helps her pay for them. i don’t think that’s true, i think she could get some of his stuff out of the marriage, maybe sell his stupid mid life crisis car, get some land, i don’t know. she also makes decent money doing her own job.
she says her main reason for not divorcing him is money, and she said he is “like an old pair of shoes i can’t get rid of”. WHAT??? WHAT?? she came to my house, sat on the couch with me and i told her what happened and we cried and i told her about all the times i can remember asking her why she didn’t do anything more. she says she didn’t know it was happening. i brought up how he SAID very creepy things to me throughout my life, i won’t go into detail but honestly it’s just shit that nobody should ever say to a 9-14yr old girl. she says she’s sorry it happened, and respects that i wont go to her house anymore unless he’s guaranteed not going to be there. i don’t want to see him ever again.
me now not wanting to see him, and my sister also now extra not wanting to see him, means i’m not going to be coming over for christmas or thanksgiving or coming to birthday dinners if he’s there.
she keeps making appointments with me to come into my school and work on her back, and she wants us to get our nails done together every weekend now. i think she feels bad about what happened and she’s getting lonely. i just want her to divorce him. that’s all i want. i don’t need her to try to get closer to me, spend more time with me, i want her to DIVORCE HIM. i can’t respect her when she goes to bed with him every night, cooks him dinner, goes out with friends with him, kisses him, does his fucking laundry like are you KIDDING ME?? FOR FUCKING REAL BRO??
i want to like my mom so fucking bad. i love her, she’s my mother, she taught me how to clean, she’s accepted me in being a lesbian, she helps me with housing, she pays my car insurance. i’m incredibly grateful for her but it’s like there this knife constantly in my stomach. she’s so good in so many ways.
she’s an older woman (upper 50’s) in an abusive relationship. she has a shopping addiction. she’s incredibly insecure. i feel bad for her. i love her and i want to be there for her. it just makes me so sad that she “believes me” and won’t do a single thing about it. i just want to cry. how can she stay married to him?? my brother is 17 and still has to see him all the time. A owns his house on the farm, and my mom owns her house in town. A goes and sleeps at his own house maybe 3-4 times a month. My mom moved away from the farm to attempt to divorce him when i was 14 and she ended up giving him a key and eating dinner in the new house with A like nothing is wrong about a week after we moved back to town. my little brother is STILL living there.
how can she let my brother stay there?? how can SHE stay with him?? i don’t understand

Kid's selling a felony on FB marketplace, claims car is like new, only run once or twice... so I reach out and ask a few questions: "tires are great, like brand new", "a few scratches on the chassis, but body is perfect", "smart 3s batteries like new, less than 5 charges on them" ... alright so it may be worth the $500 (with dual charger) and we schedule to meet up. I tell him to make sure both batteries are fully charged for the meet because I wanna see it run before I will hand over any cash... "Cool, no problem"
So we meet tonight in the Walmart parking lot. Body is scraped up (obviously ran more than twice) and when I said something about the pictures he's like "same car, I took the pics last year when I unboxed it" OK, but if you're going to sell it, why not take another picture of WHAT THE CAR YOU'RE TRYING TO SELL ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE? He's like "I did, those are pictures of THIS car". Whatever, I can't argue with a 14 year old so I take the body off and... F**K! Car's got the opposite of smart batteries, they're stupid! Soft cases and puffed out so they don't even lay flat. No adaptors in this car either, he cut off the ec5's and soldered on shit dean's connectors! I'm like WTF, you coulda warned me and he's like "didn't think about it, don't care, you want it or not?"
I'm pissed, but I'm there, so I say let's see it run. "Let's see the money first". Really? I told him I want to see it run before I consider giving anything for it... and he's like "if you can't show me the $500 I'm asking then you can fuck off, this isn't free play time" I was fuming, only had $155 on me (was going to get the rest out of the ATM in Walmart if I was going to buy it - but pretty sure now there won't be a trip to the ATM) As it was mostly singles and fives, stack looked pretty fat - so I pulled it out quick and was like " $500 right here, happy? Run it" and stuffed the cash back in my pocket.
He's connecting batteries and I notice tires are bald so I'm like "you said they were like new, want to see the chat?". Kid goes "I don't give a shit about your chat, it is what it is, what you see is what you're going to get, got it?". Don't know what to say, but it's ready to go, so he just starts ripping it and ... Holy shit those felonies are AWESOME! Wish it had the handbrake, but that thing flew! Speed gear installed, I don't doubt it didn't hit the 90 they advertise on the box... LOVE it.
I'm like let me try that shit, and first he's like "nah" but I say no way I'm going to buy without the try.
He puts the controller on 50% and says "be careful". I run it to the corner of the parking lot, turn it around, and flip the controller back to 100%.
100% throttle, I sent it straight into the side of the building. "Oops! It didn't turn!" Car's in about 100 pieces and he's flipping out saying "You stupid asshole, I told you be careful... you just fucking bought that car"
"You lied about the car. It wasn't worth $500 before, and it certainly isn't worth $500 now. It was broken already, tires were shot, didn't turn... I'll give you 75 bucks for it but that's it"
$500 $80? No you're paying $500 $85? $500 or me and my brother kick your ass and take it.
Yup, kids brother was done shopping and just came out looking for him. Wanted to know what's going on and WTF happened to the car!
I waited while he told his side, tried to explain mine but brother man wasn't interested in hearing any more, says give him $400 and we'll call it even.
Can't do it, $100 is the most I'll pay, cars broke!
And... the first kid sucker punched me! Had his brother not been there, it would have been game over for him! I did put up a good fight, and they're both hurting more than I was... But they did manage to knock me down at one point and got most of the cash out of my pocket so it ended up costing me $128 ...
But I got an s2100 charger, near mint controller, all the electronics still work, body believe it or not is still useable... chassis and from end need replacing, as well as tires... But can't beat the price!
And they probably won't be trying to scam anyone else any time soon!

Just wanna know about y'all opinion on this, with the recent opening of Gaia (Asia’s biggest wooden building 🥸🥸) do y'all think there's a need for new acad buildings or new halls to accommodate student housing / replace the older halls
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So I'm 27 years old and I've never had a girlfriend before. The longest I've ever talked to someone is 3 weeks and 4 dates (pathetic I know). Most women typically call it quits after 2 dates or about a week. However, this isn't the main point of the post.
I'm going to be willingly moving back in with my parents in 2 months once my lease ends. I've been living on my own the past 5 years, but I want to leave my current city and move back closer to where I grew up. Originally the plan was to live with them for about a month until I found an apartment I liked, but after talking to them more they said "why don't you just live here and save for a house?". They told me I'd have their basement to myself, which is pretty much the same size as my apartment anyway. It has a bedroom, living area, laundry. It's fully furnished. The only thing I'd ever have to leave the basement for is bathroom/kitchen.
I was initially against this, but after thinking about it and running the numbers I saw I'd be able to fully get out of debt and save $75K towards a house in just 1.5 years. Once I saw that it was the obvious choice. Plus I'd get the benefit of being able to spend more time with them. They're getting older and I haven't seen them much the past 5 years since I live 5 hours away. Plus they also have a pool.
Now I'm second guessing my decision however. I obviously have a billboard sized, blinking, waving, neon red flag and struggle with dating as is. I'm concerned if I live with my parents it'll kill the small chance of ever getting into a relationship. I feel like women will sprint the other direction when they find out. And by the time I buy the house I'll be pretty much 30 without ever being in a relationship and they'll keep on running.
I know I shouldn't really make decisions now based on a future relationship I might not even have, but I've always dreamed of having a family. Knowingly making a decision that'll shoot me in the foot is very discouraging, even if it is the smart move financially.

I was visiting a friend out of state (PA) and was helping him clear out his parent’s house of old stuff they’ve accumulate over the years. Once we had everything, we dumped it in a private dumpster at a local business. It was an honest mistake as we don’t have any experience getting rid of stuff and didn’t even think about who has to pay the disposal fee. For context, we showed up in daylight in a Uhaul box truck, thinking it wasn’t an issue. We should have done more research about how to get rid of the junk and it was incredibly stupid,but most importantly, it was wrong.
An employee at the location where we used the dumpster called the police and we were each issued a Summary Offense (Diversion of Services). I have the option to plead Guilty or Not Guilty. I’m a little stressed out about what it means to actually plead guilty (it’s my only offense, don’t even have speeding tickets in my name in the 15 years I’ve been driving). I want to take accountability, and have no issue paying the fines or even paying the business owner back for the disposal fees they incurred, but I’m not sure how to proceed. Will Summary Offenses show up on background checks? Should I try to explain the situation to the Magistrate Office?