Air Dried Dog Food

... spear to scrap off the dried blood, then pushed and pulled... weird bags that smelled of dried food in their packs. Enough for ... to be some sort of dog tag, with some tattered remnants ... from the ceiling fills the air. "Stay close. It may not ...

... Grain Free Dry Cat Food 2.5 kg $26.... Gift Grain Free Dry Dog Food 2.5 kg $19.... Gift Grain Free Wet Dog Food 100g $1.90 $0.... CL Woolworths Open Paddock Air Dried Dog Treats 150g $10.00 ...% — Woolworths Schmackos Strapz Dog Treats 200g $8.00 $4... CL Woolworths Supercoat Dry Dog Food 2.6-2.8 kg ... The Paw Grocer Freeze Dried Dog Treats 90g $13.00 ... — Woolworths Ultimates Indulge Wet Dog Food 400g $2.90 $1.45...

..., Flash Bomb, Gas/Sleep Bomb, Food Pills, Wire Strings, Shark Skin..., added a pinch of something dried from a pouch on her... softened at the smell of food. "Inoharu," he said. "Let them... she began going through handsigns. Dog. Boar. Ram. The wrappings became ... disguised sword swept through the air a metre in front of ... half-conscious between them, and the air around her was so saturated ...

... the comet, had attacked the Air Nomads at each of their ... need for retribution against the Air Nomads and their enclaves. She ... Yuna stepped forward. Drawing in air, the veteran of ten wars, ... light brown, reminding her of dried mud on the riverbank. His ... falling for you. Li, you dog," he said. Mina felt her ... leave will potentially farm the food our people need to survive. ...

... got caught stealing someone else's food off the fridge. He scampers ... of hair, actually. Or a dried up scap. A-Anyhow, it looks ... four scraggly beggars, tasted the air near a stall cooking what ... after my neighbor's big fluffy dog??? Maybe I could change it ... try speaking when tasting the air; that hardly sounded human, "N-Nope. ... start somewhere," He pushed the air towards him with a free ...

... Chewing Mouth full, working through food. Childish and endearing. Gori-gori Grinding... their English counterparts. A Japanese dog says "wan-wan," not "woof." A.... Romaji Animal & Sound Wan-wan Dog barking Nyaa-nyaa Cat meowing Gaoo... visual distortion of hot air rising. Wind and Air Romaji Meaning Notes Byuu-byuu... brittle from hardening. Frozen ground. Dried cement. Pressure and Compression Romaji ...

... iron, rusted iron blood dried on it. Then he ...small table near the wall, food lay on it, cups,...moved, the way the air arrived. Breathing was what ... dark reddish-brown color of dried blood. "I didn't know a...scream, there was no air for a scream, the scream ... happening, and spending air on useless words left less...a man watches a dog perform a trick it had ...ink that had been dried long enough to go faintly ...

... @ CL Coles Vittoria Freeze Dried Instant Coffee 400g $39.00... Price Sale @ Retailer Coles Air Wick Scented Oil Plug-In Diffuser... CL Woolworths Nature’s Gift Wet Dog Food 700g $3.50 $1.75... @ CL Woolworths Optimum Chilled Dog Food Roll 1 kg – From the...Freeze Dry Raw Coated Dry Dog Food 2.5 kg $25.00...50% — Woolworths Whiskas Wet Cat Food Pk 12 x 85g $13...Crackers 75g – From the Health Food Aisle $4.90 $2.45...

.... A box of supplies — water, dried food, ammunition. "You wait here," Tomás... walls held it and the air thickened until breathing felt like ... not look at them. A dog followed the soldiers at a ... had broken and the evening air carried the smell of cooking .... He had come out for air or a smoke and instead .... The door spun through the air and hit the jeep's windshield ...

..., more like a big, excited dog that loved me but didn't... ground. We were harvesting their food supply. They were, understandably, quite ... slow-growing plants, curling into the air, each one tracing a ley-line ... looked normal again. But the air felt different, cleaner and calmer, ... the ley lines in the air. For about forty-five seconds, the ... in her pack. Seasoned meat, dried herbs, a small pouch of ...

... her legs, flying into the air an inch at a time. ... nothing. Pichu returned with some dried skewers and handed them to ... as much from the dead, dried fruits as she had from ... less than skin-deep. Parahumans, Animals, food, and culture weren't the only .... Glory Girl leaped into the air and grabbed Panacea, shouting, "Crap, ... earlier. Mewtwo and the blue dog thing. They felt different. Like, ...

... her legs, flying into the air an inch at a time. ... nothing. Pichu returned with some dried skewers and handed them to ... as much from the dead, dried fruits as she had from ... less than skin-deep. Parahumans, Animals, food, and culture weren't the only .... Glory Girl leaped into the air and grabbed Panacea, shouting, "Crap, ... earlier. Mewtwo and the blue dog thing. They felt different. Like, ...

.... Sun ate them anyway. Food was food. The mush went down his... wall as if the food, the plates, and all evidence...forgotten it before the ink dried. If so, no one had...object hovered in the air. It was a shard of ... call it an insect, dog, spider, or knife. Its body ...red strips, sealed doors, metallic air, faint vibrations underfoot. But now, ... short breath of pressurized air, before sliding into the wall. ...

... if someone was walking a dog where I needed to be... second block corrected me. Cold air scraped the back of my ... of injury. The system liked food now, or at least liked... live on bread and microwave food. I nodded through all of... become work. The backyard had dried, the grass left less mud... words kept stacking in the air. The old menu had been ... new menus open in the air above my desk. I clicked ...

... if someone was walking a dog where I needed to be... second block corrected me. Cold air scraped the back of my ... of injury. The system liked food now, or at least liked... live on bread and microwave food. I nodded through all of... become work. The backyard had dried, the grass left less mud... words kept stacking in the air. The old menu had been ... new menus open in the air above my desk. I clicked ...

... who care for this old, dried out waste, I'm just making... raised her hands in the air. I wanted to point out ... meal, a hotpot of various food the both of us had ... was done, like some loyal dog sitting by the campfire. I ...

...felt was hunger. Not for food, but for something else. Something ... Blood had pooled around it, dried and blackened. And in front ... with each other, Divine Dog positioned at the center as ...it immediately attacked, using Divine Dog he could sense the direction ...scanning all angles constantly, Divine Dog suddenly barked and turned toward ...off the creature made the air itself feel thicker, heavier, harder ...

..., who a lanky, older shepherd dog anthro, was distracted with a... sniff from the air, her eyes widening as the scent of the food I was making... off the water spray and dried off vigorously, luxuriating into the ...the cheery atmosphere evaporated. The air became heavier with my own ...still clearly weak, but the food was clearly helping, as she ...the faint hope it would air out this awkwardness and lingering ...

How long should the trial period be for new kibble? Our dog seems to have a sensitive stomach. She was doing really well on ZiwiPeak Air Dried Lamb. It took less than a week after a 7 day transition for her poops to become perfect: small and firm. However, $600/mo is just not something we can afford and it isn’t WSAVA. Do I need to give kibble more time to settle than ZiwiPeak Air Dried? I just want to make sure I’m giving the kibble the time it needs. Or should the food settlement be similar to air dried (less than a week). We are currently doing a trial for Purina Pro Plan Sensitive Skin & Stomach Salmon + Rice. submitted by /u/AeroNoob333 to r/DogFood [link] [comments]

So to preface, I mentioned this to my vet a couple months ago and she basically brushed me off and told me "huskies are sometimes just smellier dogs". Im going to take her for another opinion somewhere else, but I want to go in prepared, so I'm asking here if anyone has been through something similar. My girl just turned 8 years old. For the past 6 months or so, she's gotten a sort of unpleasant, musty smell that she never had before. Its not yeasty and it's not coming from her ears or paws (and the vet checked that). There are so many variables in our routine so I'm just having a hard time pinpointing what caused the change. We tried changing her food, treats, and her shampoo and conditioner, but haven't noticed a change in her smell. We're pretty outdoorsy and hike and explore the wilderness a lot. She is great at rolling in poop/swampy water/dead fish/dust so she usually gets a bath after every trip (1-4 times a month). Often she smells good the first day and then the smell comes back the day after her bath. Its usually her belly area and might be coming from her urethra, but Im not sure. She's never shown any signs of discomfort urinating. There was one time a couple months ago where she was getting a blow dry in the back yard and was on her side/back and she peed. Which was kind of weird. I also mentioned this to the vet but they didn't seem concerned. She's never peed in the house and we've never noticed any wet spots on the bed or couch where she regularly sits with us. I feel like I'm going crazy. Nothing about her behavior has changed, just the musty smell. We wash our blankets regularly (and even the couch cushion covers) to try to manage it, but its driving me nuts and obviously I'm concerned for my girls health. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, I would love to hear them. Thanks in advance. Edit: Just because everyone keeps commenting this. Yes, she usually gets blow dried after baths. We also live in Utah and our air is very dry, so even when she air dries, she does so fairly quickly. submitted by /u/UnscrupulousGoose to r/husky [link] [comments]

I (25F) was regularly sexually assaulted by my brother (27M) as a child and also coerced me into having sex with him. The first time I remember was I believe third grade. All I remember I laying on the spare bed in the laundry room and him assaulting me. I couldn’t move. There was folded clothes around me. I don’t think that was the first time though. That’s the first one I just remember. There were so many other times after that though. Later on he would just tell me to lay down and he’d do what he wanted to me. I genuinely thought it was normal because he said that’s what brothers and sisters do. Pretty fucked right?I know it stopped around sixth grade but I don’t remember why he stopped. I do remember him groping and dry humping me a lot during high school until he got a girlfriend. I just tried to ignore it. Pretend it didn’t happen. I just hated him but I didn’t understand why I hated him other than him hitting me growing up. I thought I would be the one in trouble for some reason if I told my parents what he was doing to me. I also think that is one of the main reasons I started eating so much and putting all the weight I did on. It was my coping mechanism. I learned from TikTok late last year that Child on Child SA is a thing and when I was reading it, I realized that that was the same thing that happened to me. I am so genuinely fucked up from that. I haven’t had a relationship last more than three months. I can’t look at a man without feeling disgust towards them. All of them. I feel like my dad is the only safe man I can be around. I think that I am so genuinely fucked up from being assaulted as a child that I can’t form romantic relationships. There is something so wrong with my brain chemistry that I can’t even try having a love life. I wanna be loved so badly by another woman, but I don’t want to put them through my emotional and physical trauma. I am just damaged goods. I feel like I don’t deserved to be loved because of what I let my brother do to me. I don’t know why it has taken me this long to write this down. I think maybe it’s because I have reached the end of my rope. I lost my job. I started at a new job making minimum wage. I’m living with my parents. I am fat as fuck with no chance of a woman looking my way. I feel ugly and just like a piece of trash. I am a failure. I failed in my career and my love life. I feel like I am just wasting air at this point. It would just be better if I just ended it. Also, if I even told someone in my life, I would ruin my brother’s life. He has a wife and a dog and a cat. I know it’s fucked up that I am even thinking about his feelings. But I don’t want to ruin a life and then have his wife be mad at me for not telling her what a monster he is and letting her marry him. And I also don’t want my parents to loose a son too. Because that is what will happen if I tell them. I just needed to get this off my chest. It’s been weighing down on me for quite some time now since I understood what actually was going on as a child. I don’t think I will tell anyone in my life ever. I barely talk to my brother as is and don’t plan on ever talking to him again once my parents are no longer with us. Edit to add 05/12/2026: Firstly, thank you all for your kindness and support. I appreciate everything you all have said and the advice given. I genuinely didn’t think anyone would read this post, and it was more so just so I could feel relief from the weight of this secret. I am sorry I did not respond to people’s comments and messages, just know I have read every single one. There are just some clarification points that I wanted to make in this edit just because a lot of people responded and I am honestly a bit overwhelmed. I am not a fucking bot. This literally happened to me. I didn’t not make this shit up, and to anyone who has said I did, I hope you learn to have fucking compassion for people’s situations. I know people lie on the internet all the fucking time. I made this throwaway account just so I could make this confession. I am probably going to just turn off notifications for this account after today because I cannot handle the negativity right now. And yes, I am a lesbian. I have dated some men in my earlier 20’s and even have had sex with them, but I have just always loved being with a woman. Men just never made me feel anything. That’s probably a trauma response like some of you have said, but I genuinely do not care. It’s just always has been a better experience for me with women. It’s just not about getting your rocks off and then going back scrolling through your phone. I feel like women always want to have deeper, more meaningful conversations with me than men. I’m not saying that is all men. It’s just my experience. I have always seen myself since my teenage years that I would marry a woman and have all the cats with her. Cliche, but it’s a nice dream to have. I will definitely seek therapy once I am able to afford health insurance. One of my friends told me I needed it too. I haven’t told her what happened to me to the full extent, she just knows that a lot of shit happened with my brother when I was younger and that I am very traumatized by it. She probably inferred what I was talking about because of how kind she was being after I told her some things, but I am not sure. I lost my insurance when I lost my job (yay America! 🤬), and the cheapest insurance policy I could find for me was $400. My paycheck for two weeks of work was $600. And I have bills and a bunch of other shit you guys probably don’t care about. I am working on finding a new job in the field I was working with, even though I hated it. I just can’t live on minimum wage. I was planning on moving out in June but because I got fired, I have had to scratch that plan for now. Once I am able to live on my own, I am going to tell my parents. I am going to do therapy first just to navigate on how I should tell them, but I do plan on telling them. I just have read some of your comments about your parents not believing/ getting upset. I don’t have anywhere else to go. My parents are amazing people and were great parents to me, but I am scared they won’t believe me. I don’t know why. They know I am a terrible liar. And yes, they should have protected me and prevented this from ever happening, but they both worked all the time to just pay for the house, lights, and food. We weren’t rich. We were pretty much lower middle class, at some points poverty. I do not blame my parents for what happened to me. They did the best they could. My brother and his wife do not want to have children. She is very adamant about that. So I know I will never have any nieces or nephews. I do want to tell her. I need to tell her. She is a lovely person and she deserves to know. I doubt she is going to believe me, I have no proof this ever happened to me, and she is very dependent on him, but I will still tell her. I need to take care of me first though. I need to start therapy. Just getting to that point is going to take a while. I did buy a walking pad for myself and stopped eating junk food. I just haven’t had any motivation to actually start working out until now. Your comments really did help me realize that my life isn’t over. I feel such relief that I told someone. Even if it’s strangers on the internet. Thank you and I will make an update when I tell everyone what he did to me. submitted by /u/Sunset6948 to r/confession [link] [comments]

My dog has been eating Carna4 dog food since he was a pup (he’s now almost 4) and he has always loved it but he tends to get some chronic GI upset from his anxiety. We mostly have his anxiety under control but occasionally he’ll still get an upset tummy and doesn’t want to eat his food. The air dried kibble are extremely dense and I think a bit hard for him to digest so I’m looking for a good food that’s not full of fillers but also isn’t these ridiculously expensive brands that are pushed on us on social media. Right now I pay about $35 a month for his food, I could go up to $40 but that’s about it. tl;dr not too expensive food, easy to digest for sensitive tummies, not full of junk submitted by /u/OnlyRemove9827 to r/DogFood [link] [comments]

So my life pretty much derailed back in spring 2022. This is when the downward spiral, so to speak, really began for me. Trust me, this is necessary context for the rest of this. I was at buffalo wild wings, watching some UFC fights with some friends and decided to cook up a harmless little parlay before the main card. I’d never gambled on anything before and only had this vague understanding of how it worked. But I had just passed some exams and was about five or six drinks deep and the world just seemed so open and rife with possibilities, so I thought why the hell not. I ended up turning $15 into over $200 that night. But based on the way I was acting, you would’ve thought I’d won $200 mil. The high was just that good. More visceral than I would’ve thought. I never reached that high ever again. Even after hitting ludicrous bets that paid out fifty to sixty times more, nothing really came close to replicating it. Which was really the crux of my issues. My dumb ass just kept trying to chase it. As much as I’m sure you’d all love to hear it, I’m not gonna go into a detailed timeline of my misery. Just know that it was bad. Probably worse than you’re imagining right now. Bridges burned, legal trouble, having to avoid calls from very persistent debt collectors. The works. The only reason I’ve been able to somewhat keep my head above water for so long was due to my job. It was one of those positions that paid you a lot to sit around in an office and update a spreadsheet every now and then. Maybe an hour of real work a day. I was lucky to land it, even luckier to be able to hang onto it for as long as I did. So when the consultants were hired and the “fat” started being trimmed, I really had no right to be as shocked as I was when I saw that notification from my manager waiting for me on teams. I did end up with a pretty decent severance. And can you guess what I did with it? Well, I actually tripled it the following week. Betting on motherfucking golf of all things. Of course I should’ve stopped right there and updated my LinkedIn, polished off my suit, registered for some networking events. But no, that wasn’t going to work for me. In my head, no work meant more time to learn how to become a more proficient gambler. Every night was spent diving into statistics, deep analytics, line movements, even sports psychology of all things. What’s it called when you think you know a lot, but you really don’t know shit? The Freddy Krueger effect? Something like that? Things were going alright for a while. Not great but I was winning just enough that I was able to stomach it all. But then one night I was completely coked out and decided to place a very large and stupid bet on a certain boxing match. It flopped hard. Then in my desperation to recoup something, I cooked up another longshot parlay on some fights the following weekend. And I’m sure you can guess what happened. When I was laid off four months ago, I had a total of $45k in liquid savings and only $35k in debts. Across all my accounts now, I’m down to $27.50. As for the debts, I don’t even know. I don’t want to look. My cards are all maxed, my credit is shot, I can’t talk to my family anymore, my friends are no longer my friends and every day there are people who look like they enjoy breaking fingers standing outside of my apartment building. Sometimes they manage to make it in and knock furiously at my door, and I just have to pretend like I’m not there. By the time I finally came to my senses and began job searching again, I’d already dug a cavern for myself that was going to take some Herculean effort to scale out of. I did manage to get some interviews but never made it to any second rounds. Maybe I was coming off as too strung out, I don’t know. Side tangent—don’t you fucking it hate when they ask about gaps in your employment? It’s like fuck off, man. Anyways, I haven’t gotten an interview in a while and things don’t seem to be looking up there. A few days ago, the collectors actually tried physically breaking down my door. Got real close as well until one of my neighbors—this old military type came out and threatened to shoot their kneecaps off if they didn’t skedaddle. I got lucky there. I can’t bank on getting lucky again. Which leads me to last night. I was drunk off some bottom shelf vodka and decided to try a more shameful and unorthodox method of procuring funds. That method being using AI generated sob stories to e-beg on reddit. Yeah, look, I was desperate, wasn’t thinking straight. I know. Of course, I wasn’t sure how much I’d be able to get out of it. Certainly not enough to put even a tiny dent in the total debt, but maybe just enough to get the collectors off my back. For a while. And what more could I lose from trying? I still had the wherewithal to at least edit out most of the ChatGPT speak in the posts before copying and pasting them to as many relevant subreddits as possible. Predictably, I got called out almost immediately, getting blocked from one community after another. But just when I was ready to give it up, somebody shot me a message. I’ll paste it below. Hey there, my name is Scott. I saw your post in ___. That really sucks man. Really, it does. I’ve been there and I think I can help. Now I can’t just give you money straight up because I don’t have much myself, but I can offer you a quick and reasonably trouble-free way to get some. Nothing weird or illegal or sexual, so don’t worry about that. I have a friend who’s head of a property group that owns a mall. You said you live in ___ right? The mall’s located in ___ so it shouldn’t be too far of a drive. In any case, you’ll be compensated for fuel. So here’s the crux of the proposal. You see, the mall’s not doing too well. These days I think most malls aren’t, but the location for this one is just so awful that it’s doing worse than the rest of them. But for whatever reason, this guy isn’t quite ready to let go of it. It’s not that he even really cares about it being profitable. He just doesn’t want it to get shut down and repurposed for something else. For whatever reason. You know how weird rich people can be. Have you ever heard about mystery shoppers? It’s not as eerie as it sounds. They’re just people who are hired to walk around malls and shopping centers, pretending to be customers. That’s basically what he’s recruiting for. To make it look like the place still has some juice left in it so that he can delay the inevitable for as long as he can. Again for what, I don’t know. You’ll be given a certain window of time in which you’re meant to walk around, doing your best to pretend like you actually have a reason for being there. Which would involve some shopping, looking around, having a meal in the food court. Etc. Once you enter the building, you’ll go up to the Starbucks on the second floor. Go up to the barista and tell her that you’re part of the “program” and she’ll give you $100 cash. You can then go ahead and spend that $100 on whatever you’d like over the course of the time you’re in there. Make sure you spend all of it. Don’t try and keep it. They’ll know. Once your time is up, you can simply leave. But don’t try and leave early. Once again, they’ll know. In order to receive compensation, you’ll need to be in there for your entire allotted duration. You can stay longer if you’d like. But not a second less. I mean that literally. Not even a second. Compensation is as follows: $250 for each hour spent there, to be e-transferred immediately upon your departure. If my friend likes your performance, there will be opportunity for you to come back. Let me know if this sounds like something you’d be interested in and then I’ll send over some more details. Cheers. Okay, so clearly a joke, right? I’m being trolled. But then I tried to think about what the punchline possibly could’ve been and couldn’t up with anything. So I pivoted to the idea that maybe it was a scam. Or something even more nefarious than that. The setup tracked well enough. Lure people out to somewhere remote under the pretense that they’re about to make some good money. But not such good money that it seems like a glaring trap. $250 an hour for walking around a mall is just skirting that edge. In my opinion. But what the fuck are they planning to do once I get there? Mug me? They know I’m broke as shit and don’t have anything, so that can’t be it. So what else do I have that’s valuable? My organs? Maybe they’ll kidnap me and torture me to death on the dark web? I think the reason I’m typing this all out is because I’m hoping when I read it back, something’ll click. That I’ll be able to come to my senses and realize just how bad an idea it is. Because right now, against all logic, I’m genuinely considering it. Because those fuckers are pounding on my door again. ***** This time, they knocked for like twenty minutes straight. It got intense enough that I really thought they were going give another go at breaking it down. But they didn’t. Lucky me. I’ve thought about spending less time here, so that if they ever do storm in, I won’t have to make a break for the fire exit. But I don’t know where I’d go. Maybe the library or the gym. Though if it ever comes to a point where I’m having to do all that, it’s basically already over for me. That’s no way to live. Trying to weigh everything now. Do I have anything to lose besides my life? Could things get worse than they are right now? One of the people I owe money to is this guy named Renzo. I met Renzo at a bar while I was watching Canelo vs Crawford card. What was that, like nine months ago? Jesus. So anyways I met this guy there and I was blitzed out of my head and told him very confidently to bet the house on Crawford. He seemed to like the cut of my jib so he went ahead and did so. Not quite the house, but a pretty fat stack. I made him some good money that night. Made some good money myself. Then we just drank and drank until things got hazy and the only other thing I really remember before waking up in his apartment the next morning (not what you think) was my face being pressed down into cold concrete. My clothes were still on, phone and wallet still in my pockets and I was just slumped over on a couch with one side of my face stinging so bad it felt like something was pulsating beneath it. Looking at myself using the camera on my phone, I could see that half of my face was red and swollen, scratches overlapping each other like a bloody lattice. Then Renzo comes into the living room saying he couldn’t believe what I did last night and how much of a dog I was. I didn’t know what he was referring to and I still don’t. I never asked. So that’s how I met the guy. I’d later find out that he traffics a lot of cocaine over the border and does a lot of it himself. And that there’s a small jar sitting next to his television containing several shriveled, dried-up human ears that he claims used to belong to the members of some outlaw gang in the old west. I’m sure a reasonable person would’ve considered these things very carefully and concluded that they might be better off keeping their distance. But not me. In fact, I did the worst thing anybody could’ve possibly done. I ended up borrowing some money from him. Only around $3k. Maybe not a lot to some of you, but when you’re dealing with this guy, it’s still $3k too much. To be fair though, he was the one that had first offered it up, told me to throw it on whatever I thought might get me some coin. And if I won, we could share the profits. I guess he was under the impression that I was some sort of master sports bettor and that I knew what the fuck I was doing. I should’ve asked him what would happen if I lost before I’d accepted it. And I did lose it. All of it. Couldn’t pay him back even a cent. I didn’t hide it from him, just told him the facts straight and clear. To which he’d smiled, told me it was alright. That I had a week to pay him back. That week turned into a month. Then two months. Then I just started flat out avoiding him. Wasn’t picking up his calls, being very careful to scan my surroundings for any sign of him whenever I was out. Eventually I guess he snapped and sent his goons after me and now here we are. The reason I bring Renzo up is because he’s the most pressing issue in my life right now. The guy’s clearly not going away and if I don’t placate him soon, something very bad is going to happen and I’m not going to be able to run from it. I just gave him a call, apologized for ducking him and then asked him plainly how much money I’d need to give him at this point to square everything up, for him to call off his goons and leave me be. He told me $10k. And if I didn’t give it to him by Tuesday next week, he’d come up to my apartment himself and blast the door off its hinges. And that I could try leaving the city or getting the police involved but that it wouldn’t matter because eventually he would get me. And once he did, he’d skin me alive before tossing me into a vat of boiling oil. I told him okay, to meet me at a bar next Tuesday at noon and that I’d have the money. Then I hung up. Now I’m really panicking. I mean, I doubt the guy has access to a vat of boiling oil large enough to toss a body into, but I kind of believe him about the skinning alive part. $10k divided by $250 is 40 hours. I have about 170 hours before I have to meet him. I just messaged Scott back, telling him I was very much interested in the mall thing. Let’s see what he says. ***** It didn’t take long for Scott to get back to me. He said he was glad to hear it, then asked when I could start. I told him immediately. Then I asked him how many hours he could get me before Tuesday. He told me he could maybe swing thirty-five. I told him I really needed forty and was there any way we could make that happen. He said no, thirty-five was a hard limit, but that he could probably vouch for me and get my rate up to $265 an hour. Then I tried pushing for $285, claiming that’d be the minimum I’d need in order to stave off eviction. Basically trying to guilt him into it. It was a long back and forth, but eventually we were able to come to a mutual agreement. He then sent me an address and told me to be there from exactly two to nine tomorrow. I told him I appreciated it and sent him the details he’d asked for. Which was just my name, age, phone #, email. And that’s it. No address, work history, social security number, literally anything else. They didn’t even ask for a picture of my ID. Which was convenient, but also sketchy as fuck. I mean, I could’ve been a literal bot and how would he know? So many red flags that you could supply a parade with them. But it’s not like I really have the luxury of backing out at this point. Maybe I could try leaving town. But I don’t think I’d get too far. I don’t think it’d end well. I told him I’d be there. A few hours later, he sent me another message, via email this time. Hey __ it’s Scott. Please remember this before you go. It’s really important that you do your best to act like a real customer. From the moment you step inside to the moment you leave. If anybody comes up to you and asks you what you’re doing, tell them you’re shopping or going to see a movie or grabbing lunch or just killing some time. Have a response ready and deliver it clearly and confidently. Absolutely no acting like a deer in headlights. Just be calm. Be natural. Don’t think about it too much. And while you’re in there, don’t ask any questions of your own. You see or hear something weird, just ignore it. But if you ever feel like you’re in genuine danger, don’t hesitate to leave. You’ll be paid in full for the day. Should any incidents transpire, please let me know. Tell me exactly what happened and I’ll relay it to my friend. He likes to keep tabs on that sort of stuff. Also, one more thing I should’ve mentioned at the start. Try to keep what you see in there to yourself. Try not to talk about it too much. But if you do, because I know you probably will, just make sure to leave out the specifics. I know it sounds contradictory, but my friend would rather keep everything contained here. Good luck man. Rooting for you. So yeah. Not sure what to make of that, but I’m trying not to think about it. I thought about sending Scott another message, asking what kind of “danger” I could possibly expect. But fuck it. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you or something. It’s late now and I’m watching Breaking Bad for the fourth time, and I have about eight hours before I need to be at the mall. I really should get some sleep, make sure I’m mentally sharp for tomorrow. But my heart’s beating pretty fast and I get the sense that rest won’t come easy right now. I looked up the address, and it does seem to be a real, active place with real reviews. Nothing glaringly “off” about it other than the location. It’s about a twenty-five minute drive from my apartment and it’s pretty out of the way, not very accessible. I think I have just enough left in my account to fill up my tank with just enough gas to get me there and back. Then that’s it. So if this does turn out to be some stupid joke, then I’m really screwed tight. I’m done for. But I’ll be screwed tight if I show up or not. And even if it is a trap and I show up and immediately get shot in the head or get kidnapped and tortured, well, at least that means I won’t have to deal with a lot of annoying shit in the future. Framing it that way, it really is a win-win-win and I’m starting to feel better about it all. ***** I’m sitting in my car right now and I’m feeling oddly mellow, more than I have in a long time. Could be a defense mechanism, my psyche trying to brace me for the unknown. Could also be the vodka Red Bull concoction I’ve just finished chugging. Whatever it is, I’ll take it. The parking lot here is larger than I’d expected and about a fifth of the way full. Which is surprising to me, given the location. It might be a stretch to call it the middle of nowhere but just based on a cursory glance, you could make a case for it. No other buildings around. No other sign of life at all. Just a desolate stretch of highway on one side and a dense forest on the other. It’s about ten minutes out of the city, smack dab between some grey industrial area and a long stretch of farmland. I cannot fathom what the target demographic was here. It’s about ten before two. A lot of thoughts running through my head but I’m doing a good job of stamping most of them out. In another five minutes, I’ll head in. ***** It’s just after eight now and I’m sitting in the food court, sipping on the remnants of a milkshake. Not so mellow anymore. It’s been strange here. Real fucking bizarre. I’m still trying to process it. When I’d first entered (which I made sure to do at exactly two), I’d followed Scott’s instructions and immediately headed up to the second floor. Looking around the place, it seemed typical enough. There was the usual fare: H&M, Foot locker, Bath & body works, Sephora, candy shops, stores selling cute but useless toys and knickknacks. Not quite bustling with activity anywhere, but also not empty enough for it to feel eerie. Though it feels really weird knowing that everybody you pass by is likely there for the same fucked up reason you are. So I’ve been trying to avoid making any eye contact. I spent a lot of time searching around for the Starbucks and eventually found it tucked away in some corner, all the way at the end of a long string of dead and vacant storefronts. Almost like they’d made some concerted effort to hide it. Or maybe it was just a coincidence? Don’t want to get too conspiratorial yet. I walked inside and the only person in there other than the barista was this dude sitting at a table with a half-eaten sandwich in front of him. He didn’t look up or really register my presence at all. Just kept staring blankly ahead at… something? I didn’t know what. Couldn’t figure it out. Maybe the painting of abstract shapes on the wall? I went up to the barista, who had short blonde hair and looked to be in her twenties. I offered up a smile, which wasn’t reciprocated. Not that I really cared. What did catch me off guard was the look on her face. Like I was the scourge of the Earth or something. Like I’d just murdered ten puppies in front of her and then laughed about it. I was so puzzled by this that my train of thought completely derailed for a second and I forgot what I was supposed to say. After stumbling through several half-baked sentences, it finally came back to me and I spat it out. “I’m uh, part of the program.” She sighed and actually rolled her eyes before asking me what I wanted to order. I just stared at her, no clue what to say, probably looking bewildered. I told her again that I was part of the program. She shook her head, sighed again. “You’re supposed to buy something first,” she told me, keeping her voice really low while staring daggers at me. “They didn’t tell you?” I shook my head and told her no, they didn’t. “You’re supposed to buy something and hand me some cash and then I give you the change. Get it?” I remember starting to get light-headed here, thinking was this real? Was I dreaming? “So order something and then give me some cash” she went on. “Doesn’t matter how much. Just give me something.” I told her I’d have a black coffee and began digging through my wallet, surprised and relieved to find a crumpled $1 bill in there. I took it out, handed it to her. She snatched it quickly out of my hand and dumped it in the register then gave me back a small stack of crisp $10 bills. I counted them quickly. Ten total. I turned around, getting ready to leave but then she called me back, asking did I forget about something? I stopped, turned around and she went about making the coffee, her movements slow, almost labored. I noticed that she was walking with a limp. It took her a few minutes to finish up and then she held out the cup, giving me one last glare as I grabbed it from her. I’d never been more glad to be leaving a Starbucks. Like I said, really bizarre stuff. But as I’d come to find out, this was only the tip of the iceberg. I took a sip of the coffee, and it tasted burnt to hell, just completely God awful. So I tossed it, made my way over to one of those mall directory things. Still had a lot of time to kill, so I began perusing the options. Eventually, I settled on heading over to the Chili’s, having a margarita or two or three. Yes, I have problems. I went back down to the first floor, keeping my vision squared ahead, trying not to draw any attention to myself. At one point, I walked past a woman that looked to be in her early sixties/late seventies and I had to wonder, was she here for the money as well? Or did she just happen upon this place on her own volition? I almost wanted to ask her directly but thought better of it. Arriving at the Chili’s, I headed straight for the bar and was surprised to find most of the seats there occupied. Most lively place I’d seen in the mall by far. Though there wasn’t a soul at any of the tables. It was a mixed group. Men, women, some old, some young. All seeming pretty drunk and glaring at me malevolently, as if I were intruding on something sacred. Well, I thought. This was just the way it was going to be. I tried not to take it personally. I took a seat at the end of the bar, trying and failing to catch the bartender’s attention. It was a youngish guy, maybe early thirties. Big beard and pencil thin arms covered in tattoos. I think it took about five full minutes before he finally, reluctantly, looked my way. He started to walk towards me, moving real slow, as if trying to draw out the steps. “Yeah?” is all he said to me, his tone oozing with cold contempt. I told him that I’d have a margarita. Along with a Budweiser. For a while he continued to stare at me, his expression implying that I’d crossed some sort of line by asking to be served alcohol at a bar at a fucking Chili’s. Then he took a deep breath through his nose and turned away, walked over to the liquor shelf. I watched him as he dumped some tequila into a glass, threw a lime wedge in it, topped it off with a messy splash of sprite, spilling most of it onto the counter. Then he walked back over, set it down roughly in front of me, walked away again. He didn’t bother with the Budweiser, and I didn’t bother pressing him for it. More trouble than it was worth, I reckoned. I sat there and sipped my drink slowly, watching CNN on the television but not really paying attention to it. It was hard to focus on anything at all when you could just feel that every single pair of eyes in the room was stuck onto you like glue. That you were the center of attention for reasons that were probably not so good. I finished the drink and felt like I needed one more to get a tolerable buzz going. Tried to get the bartender’s attention again but this time, he just straight up ignored me. Just kept facing ahead while leaning against the back shelf, taking swigs out of a Smirnoff bottle before putting it back. Lightly swaying on his feet. The guy was plastered. At a point, it starts to become a blow to your ego. And this was about that point. I began shouting at him. Something like “c’mon man, can a guy not get a fucking drink?” Maybe, probably, with a bit of an edge in my voice. But he still wouldn’t look at me. I looked down at the rest of the bar and suddenly nobody else was looking at me either. It’s like the entire room had suddenly and collectively agreed to pretend like I no longer existed. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?” I shouted. “Nothing against you buddy,” somebody, I couldn’t see who, shouted back. “There’s just too many people in here right now.” I asked out loud what the hell that was supposed to mean. “It’s five o clock on a Tuesday,” the bartender spoke up, his tone implying that he was explaining something painfully obvious. “Think about it, yeah? How busy can a *Chili’*s get? On a Tuesday? At five o clock? Just think about it. If we don’t sell this, then nobody gets paid. So quit your whining and come back when it’s emptier.” Any further questions of mine fell on deaf ears. I was invisible again. I slapped one of the $10’s onto the counter and stood up, left the place. For the next few hours, I sort of just wandered around, my head in a bit of a daze. Still not fully convinced this wasn’t a dream. I went over to the food court, ate some KFC. The guy working the counter there didn’t say a word to me, communicating via nothing but head nods. Then when I bit into the chicken, I realized that some of it was still raw. I just ate around it. After that, I went over to the Under Armor store, spent some time looking over some knock-off jackets (the labels read Undre Armore?) that nevertheless seemed comparable in quality to the real thing. I picked one of them up, along with a t-shirt. Surprisingly, the lady who worked there was actually pretty nice, actually put some effort into being an employee (or maybe she was a real employee?) After that, I was down to just $20 and went over to the movie theater, which was completely empty save for a woman who was asleep behind the box office and some guy sweeping the floors. The screen that was supposed to be displaying what was playing was glitched, completely bugging out. So I went up to the guy, asked him what was on. He just shrugged, said that it could be anything. Then I asked how I was supposed to buy a ticket and he said all I needed to do was go up to the box office and put a $10 on the counter then I could go into any of the theaters. But to try and not wake Lindsey up since she gets real cranky when that happens and he doesn’t want to deal with it. I parted ways with another bill then went into the closest theater, catching about two thirds of that last Avatar movie, the one with the fire in it. There was only one other person in the theater, sitting near the front. They were there when I’d walked in and they didn’t move after the film had finished. I left the theater and went into a washroom. Took a piss, splashed my face with cold water while looking at myself in the mirror, taking deep breaths. Now the anxiety was starting to break through. The fear as well. After I’d finished drying myself, the stall closest to the wall opened up. I looked over, seeing the door hanging ajar but with nobody emerging from behind it. Through the gap at the bottom, I could see a pair of dirty white sneakers. I guess whoever they belonged to was just standing there. Which was a really freaky thing to think about and I left the washroom shortly after, looking over my shoulder to make sure nobody tried following me out. And nobody did. There were a few more odd “occurrences” after this. I walked past an electronics store and this short, older dude came out from behind the counter with this big smile on his face and tried gesturing for me to come inside. “Cell phone, cell phone,” he kept saying. “Fix cell phone.” I told him my cell phone didn’t need fixing and his expression dropped like a stone in a lake. I watched him as he walked back into the store and rolled down the security gates and disappeared behind them. Then the lights went off inside. There was also this lady walking around with a metal tray, claiming to be offering samples of “cinnamon rolls”. The cinnamon rolls in question being dollops of thick, grey, bubbling sludge. Safe to say, I passed on it. At some point, I had what I believe was a panic attack. Never had one before, but I think this was it. Tightness in the chest, an overwhelming sense of dread. I found a bench somewhere and took a seat. Pulled up some breathing exercises on YouTube and tried to replicate them. To my surprise, they worked pretty well. I went back to the food court, spent my last $10 on a large peanut butter milkshake from Baskin Robbins with a bunch of chocolate bullshit blended into it. And that’s where I am now. Just sitting here, waiting for nine to hit so I can get the fuck out of whatever the fuck this place is. But I’m feeling better now, I think. Maybe it’s just the dopamine from all the sugar but I’m feeling alright. Enough that I think I’ll be able to get through this. Oh, shit, there’s a guy walking towards me now. He just sat down beside me. ***** The good news is, I’m back in my apartment now, mostly unscathed. The not so good news is that as much I need the money, I’m not sure if I can go back to that place. So about the guy in the food court. He was young, maybe early twenties. Tall and skinny, brown hair cut into a short fade. Looked like a bog-standard college kid. He sat next to me, started making small talk, asking how my day had been, was the milkshake good, etc. I tried ignoring him at first, but he seemed nice and normal and coherent enough that I started to feel bad about it. So we got to talking a bit. He told me his name was Daniel and that he used to be a copywriter but got laid off around 6 months ago and hasn’t been able to find anything since. So what’s what he was doing here. “What about you?” he’d then asked. “Why are you here?” Right at that moment, I felt comfortable enough to tell him the truth. I told him about the gambling, the debts, the collectors. It felt nice and cathartic airing out my dirty laundry to a complete stranger so I just kept on going. I didn’t stop talking until my eyes drifted down and landed on the shoes he was wearing—these really worn, scuffed white sneakers. Okay, I thought. Could be a coincidence. And even if it was same guy from the bathroom, then so what? But then I remembered Scott’s message, specifically his “instructions” about what was I supposed to do if somebody tried talking to me and the realization washed over me like a cold wave. I suddenly stood up, told him I had to get going. He started protesting, telling me that I should stick around because he had something he wanted to show me. I told him I was tired and I really needed to go home. He started grinning, showing off blocky, chiclet teeth. Really stretching his lips as wide as they could go and then a bit wider than that. Looking really uncanny. He asked me again what I was doing here. Shopping, I told him. Just shopping. He pointed out that I didn’t have any bags, so what could I have been shopping for? I started scanning the floor around me before remembering that I’d left the Under Armor bag in the washroom. He started laughing in this jovial manner, though there was something clearly ominous beneath it. “You’re not here to shop, are you?” he asked. “Then what? Why are you here?” I snuck a glance at my phone and saw eight fifty. I repeated that I really had to leave and then I turned around, started heading for the exit. To my dismay, I could hear his steps keeping pace behind me. Once I got to the doors, I checked the time again. Eight fifty-five. I turned and “Daniel” or whoever the fuck he was, was still there, standing about a half dozen feet away. “Don’t you have to go home?” he questioned, holding onto that grin. “Door’s right there. Why don’t you leave?” By now, I was checking my phone every few seconds, no longer making an attempt to hide it. He laughed again, said that if I wasn’t going home, I may as well come and see what he wants to show me. Now the panic had returned, and I really had to force myself to stay put for just a few more minutes. Minutes that seemed to be stretching into infinity. But I told myself that I was ready to sprint the second he tried making a move. I started wondering who I was more scared of. Renzo or this fucker right in front of me. It came up inconclusive. As the seconds ticked down, he continued goading me to come with him, each request insinuating more of a threat than the last. The grin slowly fading, twisting into something more outwardly malicious. The moment that the clock hit nine, I tried to bolt. Though I didn’t get far. The bastard grabbed onto my collar, started dragging me back. I tried yanking myself away, but the fucking freak had this inexplicable iron grip. It was nothing but luck that I’d been wearing one of my old, cheap shirts, the fabric of which was already starting to tear. I jerked myself forward a few more times until it shredded off my back. Once free, I lunged ahead and pushed the door open, vaulting myself outside and tripping over my own feet, elbows planting hard onto the concrete. A searing pain jolted up my arms, and I think I heard something crack. But I wasn’t too worried about it in the moment, more concerned about making sure Daniel wasn’t about to drag me back inside. I scrambled to my feet and spun around to face the doors, bracing myself for, well, I don’t know what. Maybe for him to be charging towards me like a bull. Which he wasn’t. He remained inside, his face now pressed up against the glass, features pancaked into this odd, grotesque visage. Staring at me with wide, bulging eyes, relentlessly dragging his tongue across the glass in a circular pattern. Like he’d suddenly forgotten how to act like a human or maybe he just didn’t care anymore, no longer felt the need to keep up the front. I just stood there and stared back, convinced that the second I tried to move, he would do the same. I’m not sure how long this little stalemate of ours went on for, but I remember my heart racing the entire time, beating faster and faster, approaching a point where I thought it might just explode. But eventually, he did leave. Detached his face from the glass and spun around and just walked off. I doubled over, puked up some bile and took several deep breaths before walking over to my car, cold and shirtless, watching the sun dip into the horizon. I wasn’t expecting to find that my tires had all been slashed. All four of them. My stomach dropped. Then it dropped even further once I looked around and saw that my car was now literally the only one in the entire lot. I tried calling for an Uber but the network out there was so shit that the app wouldn’t load. I could’ve gone back into the mall and used the Wi-Fi. But fuck that. I just leaned on the hood of my car, mulling over my options. Feeling a bit numb. My apartment was about eighteen miles away. Theoretically walkable. But the bigger problem was, I really didn’t know the way. here was a good chance that if I tried walking, I’d end up in the next town over. Especially in the dark. Which was something I thankfully didn’t have to risk. A few minutes later, the front door swung open and out came a woman, maybe in her thirties, dressed in jeans and a windbreaker. She didn’t seem all too dangerous, but my expectations were up in the air at that point so I backed away regardless. She walked halfway across the lot before stopping, looking over at me. It seemed like she was about to say something but then hesitated, looking away for a second before looking back. Then she called out, asking if I needed a ride. I told her I’d love one, but could she first prove to me that she wasn’t with the maniac that I’d just escaped from. She said she wasn’t with him, but that she didn’t know how she was supposed to prove that to me. And that she wasn’t going to wait around. So, if I wanted a ride, I should make that decision soon. I shivered. It was starting to get cold out. She never questioned why I was shirtless. I then asked her where her car was. She told me to follow her, but not before flashing the Glock attached to her hip. She said she didn’t think I was a threat but that she absolutely would not hesitate to shoot if I tried anything. I assured her that I wasn’t going to try anything. She’d parked about a half mile away from the mall, on a dirt patch in the forest, well hidden from the road. I asked her why she’d parked all the way out there and not in the lot. She told me the first time she’d left her car in the lot after 8 PM, her tires had gotten slashed. I then asked her how long she’s been “working” at the mall. She said she didn’t really want to talk about it. That she’d prefer it if we just sat in silence for the duration of the trip. So we did. Once we were back in the city, she dropped me off at a train station. I didn’t have any cash for a ticket, but it was pretty close to my apartment—only about a ten-minute walk away. I thanked her and hopped out. Before she took off, I asked her what her name was. She just shook her head, said it’d be pointless for me to know. When I got home, I drained the rest of the vodka in my fridge and passed out on my couch. When I woke up this morning, I checked my phone and saw a notification from my bank. I’d been e-transferred $3,000. I also had another email from Scott. Hey man, I heard you might’ve a rough first day, so I sent you a bit extra on top of the promised amount. Your hours are the same for today. 2 to 9 PM. And also man, just remember what I said before. You’re a customer in there. So act like it. It’s about half past ten AM right now and I’m just lying on the couch, sipping some Clamato juice. Not really wanting to move. Especially not to go back to that place. I spent some time trying to calculate how far $3,000 could get me if I skipped town and concluded probably not very far. Then I tried conjuring up some other ways I might be able to cover the last $7,000 before asking myself who I was kidding. I really don’t want to go back there. But I know I’ll probably have to. submitted by /u/Mr_Outlaw_ to r/nosleep [link] [comments]

I’ve been feeding my corgi the fanciest of the fanciest dog foods. He’s currently 5 1/2 years old and I started him on pre made raw like viva, primally pure, vital essentials, etc. To fresh foods like open farm, Ollie, to air dried food like Sundays. We honestly haven’t done kibble tbh. I’ve even done homemade recipes from Dr. Karen and Rodney Habib’s book. Recently my little guy had a really bad case of GI upset and it upset his pancreas pretty badly. This was after feeding him open farm- and we transitioned slowly about 9-10 days to be safe. And I’ve noticed that some foods make his poop really mushy (Sundays especially). I’m just wondering what everyone’s feeding their loaves. I fear I’ve fallen prey to fancy marketing lol... Especially with these boutique brands being SO expensive; it’s frustrating. I know we all love our doggos and want the best for them. I’d love to especially hear from those who have/had corgis that lived/are living longer years. Would love to know your thoughts, thanks in advance! 💖 submitted by /u/ilove_mycorgi to r/corgi [link] [comments]

I am adopting a rescue dog this week, she was a stray coming from Texas to NYC. I am overwhelmed by all the dog food options out there, and really could use REAL advice from actual dog owners here, not just reviews from brands. I would like to stay away from the Mars or Nestle brands, they own so much and I just find it hard to trust the actual quality. I read about Sunday, Ollie, Steve’s Real Food, yumwoof, animals like us…it seems these air dried brands are high quality, and I don’t want to do the frozen to fridge options because I travel often and the pup will join. I would love to hear real opinions here. The more I read, the more overwhelmed I get! Thank you!! submitted by /u/Silver_Importance777 to r/DogFood [link] [comments]

Small update: Husband saw Liz at work yesterday and they avoided the subject. I'm thinking Liz has washed her hands of it. I am non confrontational and don't have any reason to see them again. It's quite possible they won't realize how much they f*cked up until they ask for another favor and we say nope. I'm curious if the same amount would have been paid even if they thought she did a good job. I bet so. Update: They just paid her 500. Only message sent was did you get it? I also found out that the chickens were given fresh water daily but it had rained on the dish so that's why it was dirty. The horse trough in question was not shown to my daughter specifically and when she saw it, she noticed a gutter (?) spout putting rain water into it. She still filled it with fresh water but it had been 2 days prior to their return. The horses in the other pens all had filled water. Matt will see Liz at work tomorrow and we will see if they talk. My daughter and I are done with them. Background: My husband Matt (48m) is friends with Liz (45f) at work. Liz is married to Mandy (42f) and our family went to their wedding a year ago. Our families share a love of animals and we live 20 minutes away from each other in the rainy cold PNW. Liz adores Matt and his knowledge and abilities in woodworking and construction. She always asks for help on her farm with various projects and is a strong hard worker that has offered helping us when we need it. Liz and Mandy have 4 horses, a slew of chickens, 6 cats and 2 dogs. We have dogs and cats. My 18 year old daughter Peyton has struggled with depression most of her life. She has been suicidal and had to drop out of highschool. Because of this she hasn't met any friends. I mean zero. She is very close with her dad and me and tells us everything. She is finally in a good place. When Mandy and Liz met her they loved her. They would ask her over for movie nights and to spend time with their animals. Peyton is the biggest animal lover and dog whisperer I know. She has recently been pet sitting for neighbors and over Thanksgiving she received $460 for watching two dogs and two cats and occasionally sleeping over at their house. I recognize this was a particularly well paid job. She has stayed the night with Liz and Mandy a few times and watched their farm for a week in the past. They usually pay her about $15 to $20 a night, which we brushed off because they are friends of ours. Peyton is embarrassed to ask for more. In November I received a text from Mandy asking if we were willing to watch their farm over Christmas and New Year's. My husband actually was against the idea but I felt bad thinking who are they going to get to pet sit an entire farm over the holidays? So I said we would do it. Since they are such good friends with Peyton she agreed to stay the night there over that time. She wanted to spend time with the horses as well. It is also worth mentioning that they were driving across the country and taking their two dogs with them. Mandy had told Peyton that it was up in the air when they what day exactly they were going to be leaving. Then she got a call 2 hours before we needed to drive her over there to get exact instructions. She was upset because it was her twin brothers' 15th birthday and she was missing the cake and party. However she's still went and they showed her what to do. According to Peyton, Liz showed her how much to feed the horses and the chickens but never mentioned a few key things including the horse trough. When she took her in the chicken pen she told her about putting the chickens in and out every morning and evening but there was a giant bowl in there overturned when she was shown the pen. Liz didn't say anything specifically about the bowl. They left early the next morning. The farmhouse does not have any heat so one of the important things Peyton had to do was keep a fire going at all times and collect firewood from outside. One of the horses is elderly and has to get special food and it needs to be soaked because he doesn't have any teeth. Another horse gets hay and pellets because he has trouble gaining weight. The other two are in a separate pen and they only get hay. There are several litter boxes for the cats and they get wet and dry food each day. Peyton does not drive so Matt and I took turns going to see her and help her out with various chores making it kind of a family affair although she was ultimately there and responsible. Also because Matt and I were working except for on the actual holidays which we did feel very bad that Peyton was missing a lot of the events. When she did come home she felt like she needed to go back and make sure everything was safe and also that the fire was keeping the cats warm. Driving there and back takes 40 minutes and we did it twice a day. Peyton ran out of things to start a fire with so we brought our Christmas wrappings to help her keep fires going. The weather was very cold and rainy the entire 15 days. She was freezing at night and called me crying once or twice saying she was so done. All I could think this whole time is how they better be paying her well. Especially since it's been over the two holidays. What kind of cost would it have been to hire professionals? Finally after 15 days Liz and Mandy planned their return. That day we all went over and cleaned their house. I vacuumed and changed two automatic litter boxes. Matt took care of the horses. Peyton fed the cats put the chickens in the coop and made the beds. I vacuumed and we took out all the trashes and washed all the dishes. The next morning Peyton wakes up to a text from Liz. She said that when they got home two of the horses had kicked over their trough looking for water. Also that tipped over bowl in the chicken coop was supposed to be filled with water. There was another water bowl in there but it was "dirty". She said there were other things that she was disappointed about and felt that Peyton had not done her job at all. Peyton was beside herself with worry and sorrow. She immediately text back saying that she didn't know about the chicken water and that we had been filling up the horse trough and maybe she underestimated how much the horses drink. She felt terrible and told them how sorry she was. My whole family felt bad and we were confused about what happened with the trough. We did not get another reply from Liz. I ended up texting Mandy the next day and told her that I felt so bad that Peyton did not live up to their expectations. She was clearly very angry and said that when they arrived back home at 10:30 p.m. that the horses were upset. She said there were many other things they were disappointed about but they weren't worth mentioning. I said something about how I was afraid it would affect Matt and Liz's work relationship and she said that was ridiculous that had nothing to do with that and they still would like Peyton to come over and have movie nights. I didn't respond and I am not sure how to feel about this. At first I was thinking yeah Peyton should have known better. But I am starting to think they are taking it too far. I don't think they are planning on paying her one dime for our hard work. I do understand that they feel their animals were not attended to but I assured Mandy that I personally saw them being fed every day and my husband says he filled up that horse trough for Peyton 2 days before their return. It is true that we don't know horses very well and maybe they do drink a lot or maybe they can also spill their water trough and maybe even in excitement for their owners return after 15 days.. When Liz return to work she and Matt had brief words in which Liz said that the bags inside of the automatic litter box were not completely clipped into place. This would have been my fault since I cleaned the litter boxes for Peyton. Every automatic litter box is different including the ones that I have. I definitely feel like this is nitpicking and no thank-yous or sorrys were exchanged. I definitely feel bad if the horses were thirsty definitely the chickens were okay being let out daily and it pouring rain constantly here. According to them, there was minimal water in their coop. Peyton has been crying every night I have been losing sleep and she is asking not to be left alone. This terrifies me and makes me very sad since Mandy was her only "friend". My take: no animals died. She is only 18. The water bowls weren't specifically mentioned. You were asking a lot from us. Hire a professional if you need professional work done. Their take: obviously all of our animals need food and water. We just won't ask her to house sit again. It won't affect our relationships. Not even sure what they're thinking about compensation at this point. submitted by /u/Asknicelydammit to r/whatdoIdo [link] [comments]

I am NOT OOP, OOP is u/Commercial_Use_1836 Originally posted to r/TwoHotTakes The Neighbors Have Slowly Been Adopting Our Cat and I Don’t Know What to Do. Trigger Warnings: discussions of animal injury Original Post: December 24, 2025 We LOVE our cat, but, since he’s a rescue, he did come with a few quirks. One of these quirks is that he has to be an indoor-outdoor cat. We have tried several times to transition him into an indoor-only cat and have failed miserably every time. If he’s forced to stay inside for longer than he tolerates, he will spray pee in the house, scratch at any and all surfaces around any door, scratch at windows, blinds, and anything else nearby, and he will howl for hours. He will wake us up in the middle of the night, howl for hours at a time during the day, and he can get LOUD - like, louder than a dog. We consulted with his vet, and she said that the only real solution was to get him fixed, so we did that. We got him fixed 2 months after we adopted him, and his behavior didn’t change. We took him back to the vet and consulted with her again, and she said that with his history, and with how old he already was, it’s pretty much impossible to train these behaviors out of him. She said that the best thing to do, for his happiness and ours, was to keep him fully vaccinated and to teach him routines that’ll help keep him safe. So, that’s what we did. He’s a very territorial cat, most of the other outdoor cats in our neighborhood are the same, so he never went far from our backyard. He usually stays either in our yard, or in the small wooded area behind our yard. I can usually see him throughout the day from my back door. And this made it pretty easy to establish a routine with him. Every morning I would go to the back porch and call him in for breakfast, after breakfast I would check him over for any cuts or scrapes, he would take a nap, and then he would go back outside when it was time for our toddler to take a nap. Usually he would come back inside for dinner later on in the day and take another nap, but he wasn’t required to. If he had any serious injuries, like an open wound, any big scabs, or if he was having a dry skin breakout (he has a skin condition and gets this seasonally), I would put his plush donut cone on his head, apply ointment or coconut oil, and keep him inside for a day or two. This routine worked well for us for over 2 years, and our cat followed the routine obediently. That is, until, our upstairs neighbors moved in about a year and a half ago. A mother, her son, and her daughter moved into the upstairs apartment where the affection with our cat started small at first. The son of the family would pet our cat when he saw him outside. Then they started going on walks together. Then they would sit together in the backyard. I never had a problem with this, and thought it was rather sweet. Until, he started taking our cat up to their apartment. I spoke with his mom about it, and she said that sometimes our cat would just follow her son up to their apartment after they went on a walk together, and that her son loves cats. I told her that it wasn’t a big deal if that happened sometimes, but to please not keep him up there too often. Our cat still needed to come downstairs for his daily check-up, and if he spent too much time inside of their apartment, he would run from me and not come inside of our apartment when it was time. Well, then, her son started sneaking our cat into their apartment after his mom left for work. Now, i guess here is a good place to state that until very recently, I thought this boy was a high school student. He has some pretty big physical disabilities, so I never found it strange that he didn’t go to school. I just figured that he was probably homeschooled so that he wouldn’t have to strain his body all day or deal with crappy schools who can’t afford proper accommodations. But, no, his mother mentioned a few weeks ago that he is 23 years old! 23! I’m 25! he’s two years younger than me, keep that in mind. At this point, things have escalated a lot. Our cat doesn’t come in the mornings when he’s called anymore. I will go days without seeing him, or being able to get him inside. This has caused his skin outbreaks to get very severe in the spring and summer, and it makes me constantly worried about him. I’m used to seeing him throughout the day every day, not once every 2-3 days. That’s not a safe way to monitor a cat. When our cat does come inside, he sneaks into our front hallway and runs up to the neighbors front door. He tore up their door seal, scratching to be let in. The mom complained to my husband about it, and my husband offered to replace it. She said that it was fine, but that we needed to keep a better eye out for him. I spoke with her the next day and told her once again that we would replace the seal, she declined, but that he really should stop being let into their apartment. I gave her my number, and told her to text me if he comes to their door again and that I would come and get him. She never messages me first. The only time she’ll text me is when I text her, asking her if she’s seen my cat because I haven’t been able to find him in days. She’ll then reply and say that he’s in their apartment. After I asked her to not let him be up there! Then, about two weeks ago, a nightmare situation happened. Our cat got hurt pretty badly on his neck. He should’ve gone to the vet, but I didn’t even know that it happened! The boy upstairs came and knocked on our door and told my husband about it. My husband then went and got our cat, saw that the wound was already mostly healed, and asked the boy how long he’d known about it. When the boy couldn’t give my husband a straight answer, my husband told him thank you for letting us know, but to stop taking him upstairs. The boy just brought our cat back upstairs a few days later after he was all better and allowed to go outside again! Now, the mom has stated to me several times that she doesn’t want our cat up there. But her behavior doesn’t match what she says, at all. She only ever says this when we confront her. She says that she refuses to buy him a litter box, even though her son keeps asking her, like that’s supposed to make us feel better. And she says that she doesn’t want to get in trouble with the land lord for the cat scratching things up. Now, I think this is an important thing to note. Our cat is a TERRIBLE hunter. Like, actually god awful. And, he has digestive issues, and is on a special diet. We told our upstairs neighbor this, and asked her to, please, never feed him. Tell me why he stayed at a consistent 11 pounds up until he started going to their apartment. At his last vet appointment, our cat was 14 pounds and he’s gotten way bigger since then. Either he had a MAJOR breakthrough with his hunting capabilities, or someone else is feeding him. He also has a flea allergy, and his flea medicine isn’t as effective when he’s overweight. Yes, he’s microchipped, and the neighbors know this. But I genuinely don’t know what to do. The son blatantly ignores us when we confront him, the mom will say one thing but never really enforce what she says, and the son just does whatever he wants when she’s at work. I’m not sure if he has any mental disabilities or not, I’ve never asked. But this is getting to a point where it’s jeopardizing our cat’s health and wellbeing. I also just really miss my cat. I want to spend Christmas with him, not spend Christmas wondering where he is. I genuinely don’t know what I can do to get our neighbors to stop treating our cat like he’s theirs. We’ve confronted them several times, and I don’t want to be rude out of fear that they might retaliate using my cat. But my husband has been rude, several times, and nothing has changed. Maybe I should consult a different vet and give keeping him indoors another try? We’ve tried twice in the past, and we all just ended up miserable, but maybe we should try again? I just wish we could go back to how things used to be before our neighbors moved in upstairs. Edit/summary for the people who can’t read: Our cat followed routine and was perfectly safe for 2 years before this family moved in. He doesn’t want to go and live with them, and I’m not interested in sharing ownership of MY cat. He is very expensive and very high maintenance and they have already proved that they can’t take proper care of him. Also, we have rescued 2 other strays that have shown up in our back porch and offered to give them to the upstairs neighbors so that they could have their own cat. The mom declined both kittens, and we ended up giving them over to a local rescue. This boy had a weird obsession with MY cat, and I don’t know how to stop it. Relevant Comments Commenter 1: Can you make him a cattery? OOP: Unfortunately not, we’re not allowed to put anything outside that can’t be picked up within the same day. We wanted to get a sandbox for our toddler and our landlord said no because it would be a fire hazard and/or in the way of mowers. If and when we buy a house, though, a catio will be our first investment. (editor's note: cattery = any building, collection of buildings or property in which cats are housed, maintained, cared for, and bred) Commenter 2: Wait get a cat camera so u can monitor him for his safety so u know what’s going on idk if im tripping or does that family feel iffy? Like I get cats go to other houses but I find the cat getting injured sus lowkey and the kid coming back with it… idk my heart goes out for u it’s hard to manage this. But im saying 100% get the cat camera my cousin got one lol u can record and speak to ur cat etc a good way to know if your cat goes missing too. OOP: I didn’t think about it like that, but it does sound weird when I think about it. Our cat has never come home with an injury like that because he generally doesn’t really leave our yard. A camera is a really good idea! Definitely gonna look into it! Commenter 3: I have to admit, the part of the story where you guffaw at the guy upstairs being 23 but clearly mentally disabled did not sit right with me. Age is irrelevant here. He just knows the kitty wants to hang out, he’s not being malicious, cut him some slack. I agree with other posters that part of having an indoor/outdoor cat is that there are risks involved. Today he’s chilling with the neighbor safely. Tomorrow he could be hit by a car, attacked by a predator, run away, or any number of things that come with being outside. What happens if the neighbors follow your wishes and don’t let him in and he finds some other place away from home where you DONT have someone to text and ask for him back? OOP: I don’t know that he is mentally disabled. We’ve spoken with him on numerous occasions and I’ve never really gotten that vibe. Plus, his mom has never mentioned it. She talks about his physical disability often and will share personal details about her daughter’s therapy when I’ve only met her daughter maybe twice. If she’s that big of an over sharer, wouldn’t she have mentioned if her son was mentally disabled? Also, wouldn’t she have given that as a reason to why my cat is still being taken into her house after we’ve asked both of them not to? Our cat followed routine for 2 years before this boy started being weirdly possessive over him. Commenter 4: Your neighbor’s behavior is not normal. I would worry about the cat experiencing abuse. Part of abuse is often to love bomb before and after periods of aggression, so the cat won’t necessarily be afraid of the person. I would be really concerned about this guy. OOP: That’s something I’m becoming more and more concerned about as I read comments and think back on certain instances. Like, I’ve been told that he really loves being in their apartment, but I’ve never actually seen it for myself. Commenter 5: Get an Air Tag for his collar to monitor where he is, when you see him at the neighbours, go get him. That’s the only thing you can do aside from keeping him indoors. OOP: We talked to his vet about an Air Tag, but she said it’s a hazard for cats because they can get snagged suffocate from the collar chocking them.   Update: December 30, 2025 (six days later) the neighbors have slowly been adopting our cat, and I don’t know what to do: UPDATE First of all, thank you to the few who were actually kind and who left some very helpful information and suggestions in the comments. To the people who were saying that I should just let my neighbors steal my cat, that I don’t love him, or that he doesn’t love me: fuck. you. Also, to the commenters that asked: yes, my cat does interact with my other neighbors. And, no, he’s not a nuisance. He knows 2 of their work schedules and will wait on the sidewalk for affection when he knows they’re going to be coming and going from their apartments to the parking lot. I also have an elderly neighbor who my cat will follow to the mailboxes every day when he goes to get his mail. All of my neighbors think that it’s adorable and joke with us frequently about how we have the most affectionate cat in the neighborhood. But he’s never gone up to anyone’s apartment. He won’t even go inside the other building because he knows it’s not his. This made me reconsider what I’ve been told from my neighbors vs what I’ve seen with my own eyes. Like, I’ve been told that he loves being in the upstairs apartment, but it doesn’t really line up with everything else I know about my cat. The same day I wrote my post I found my cat with yet another strange injury. And it really made me think back on the comments who found it strange that he went 2 years without any injuries aside from a cut here or a scab there, but now he seemed to be getting them more and more frequently. And it made me wonder if my neighbor was either intentionally hurting him, or setting up scenarios in which my cat could get hurt. My husband disagrees with this possibility, but we’re both considering that maybe our cat is a few years older than his original vet’s estimate. It’s really hard to tell the age of a cat once they hit adulthood, and we were told 3 years ago that he was likely between ages 2-3, but that she wouldn’t be surprised if that estimate was off by 2-3 years. If my vet was correct, then that would make my cat around 5-6 right now, but his behavior, how often he’s been getting hurt, and him spending more time indoors leads us to believe that he may be closer to 8 or 9 years old. This would also explain why a lot of his medical conditions are getting worse with age. So, we’ve committed to trying once again to convert him to be an indoor cat. It’s been well over a year and a half since we last tried, and we’ve rescued yet another kitten this Christmas who our cat has slowly been grooming and parenting over. We were going to send this one to the rescue like we did with the others, but the rescue was full, so we decided to just keep her. And she is terrified of the outdoors which seems to be encouraging our cat to stay inside with her as well. But, just in case, I bought a camera. We do have a 4-month-old puppy who has to go out every hour and a half, as he’s still potty training. And this is usually when my cat escapes outside. So, in case my cat escapes, I bought a motion detection camera like one commenter suggested. This way, even if my cat goes outside, I can keep a better eye on him and keep a better eye on my neighbor. I don’t intend to spy on them, but if I see our neighbor coming into the yard and trying to carry my cat inside, I’ll be able to catch him in the act and intervene. We also plan to be much more confrontational about our cat, because being nice about it hasn’t worked. Thank you again to the commenters who gave helpful suggestions. I feel like we have a much better course of action planned, when, before, I was in a state of panic and distress and had no idea how to even begin solving the issue. I feel so much more prepared now and I’m ready to fight for my cat. Relevant Comments Commenter 1: Your apartment lets you have 3 pets? OOP: Lol, actually we have 4 pets, and as long as we pay for our own pet damages, he doesn’t care. We live in a very hands-off area, which has its pros and cons Commenter 2: I'm not going to give you the same "all cats should be indoor cats" diatribe others are, because it's clear you know that and love your cat. Instead I'll suggest that you have leverage here you aren't using. Wait until your cat is in their apartment, and call your landlord. Or, if the cat is chipped, call the cops. Or, you know the cat is upstairs with them, so you spend an hour banging on your ceiling with something. You need to get aggressive with these thieves and start making their lives harder until they comply. OOP: We’re trying again to convert him to be an indoors only cat, but if he gets back outside and they try to take our cat. We’re going to start doing more drastic things like this. He is microchipped, so there’s no issues there! Commenter 3: Stop buying more pets until you’ve trained you cat to be an indoor one OOP: We’ve never bought a single pet. They just sorta come to us and we’re like “Well, we’ll give you a loving home!” Our neighborhood is a prime drop off spot, especially for cats. We’ve already sent 2 to a local rescue this year, but our local rescue is currently full. Also, we’ve been very proactive about keeping the cat inside. And I’ve been all over my husband about keeping the back door closed! Commenter 4: I have seen anyone suggest this, but please get Feliway plug-ins for your home. They are odorless pheromones to help with anxiety for cats. It may help your cat stay indoors without him spraying. OOP: I’ve never heard of this! Definitely gonna have to look this up! Thanks!   DISCLAIMER: OOP HAS UPDATED AFTER THE BoRU WAS POSTED SO PER RULES UPDATE IS INCLUDED ----NEW UPDATE---- Editor's note: OOP has made an appearance in this BoRU thread. She granted me permission to add her updated comment to the post Small Update (in comments): January 8, 2026 (10 days later from the previous update) Hi, I’m the original OP, and yes, I did delete my post after getting absolutely flamed in the original comments. But I am happy to report that our upstairs neighbor is finally cooperating with us! We had a heart to heart with the mom, and she said shes willing to help be more enforcing with her son. Last night, our cat ran out the back door when we were bringing in groceries (it was a stupid mistake, I know), and I texted her immediately asking her that if she sees him to please text me and not let him inside her apartment. She was at work at the time (around 6pm), but then texted me at 11 when she got home that her son did in fact bring our cat upstairs. She told us immediately and we got him back in our apartment! My husband also overheard her absolutely chewing her son out as he went to collect our cat, so I hope it made an impact on him. How the neighbor boy managed to catch him when I couldn’t, I have no idea. But I am suspecting that maybe he has some sort of food that my cat isn’t allowed to have and that’s how he lures my cat away. It would explain why my cat doesn’t run, and would explain the weight gain. But, at least the mom is being cooperative for now, and we still plan to transition our cat to be an indoor cat. We can’t control someone else’s grown son, and we don’t want to persecute a whole house for one guy’s neglectful actions. So, keeping him indoors is just for the best. While I did get flamed in the comments of the original post, they had a point. I was prioritizing my cat’s happiness over his health, and that is irresponsible. I also had a bunch of family over for the holidays and after a conversation with my stepsister, and a bunch of mean ass comments on Reddit, I realized that my house has gotten a lot fuller and a lot louder since we first got our sensitive cat. When we first rescued him 3.5 years ago, it was just him and our axolotl. So, we’ve decided to make him his own custom space in our bedroom for him to get away and have some quiet time. He’s our only pet who’s allowed in our bedroom, and our closet is the perfect space to build him his own custom climbing space. I don’t know if this comment will reach anyone, but thank y’all for being a much kinder reddit community, and I hope this is the update y’all were hoping for. This will most likely be an ongoing thing for us until we finally get the house of our dreams, but I feel so much better now that my cat has been removed from such a dangerous and difficult situation.   DO NOT COMMENT IN LINKED POSTS OR MESSAGE OOPs – BoRU Rule #7 THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT OOP submitted by /u/Choice_Evidence1983 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/ThrowRAManJuice posting in r/relationship_advice Content Warning - extremely creepy behaviour Concluded as per OOP 1 update - Long Original - 15th December 2021 Update1 - 17th December 2021 Update2 - 30th December 2025 I (F27) found semen on my wedding dress. I don't know if it was my fiancé (M26) or his brother (M21) I really wish I was kidding. I spent today shopping, drinking hot chocolate and eating cookies with my sister. I wouldn't have believed anyone if they'd said this happened, so I won't be surprised if nobody believes me. It's stupid and it's disgusting and I'm still in shock. So today I went out to do some Christmas shopping with my sister (F18). I live with my fiancé (M26, I'll call him James), so he was at home for the day. He works in healthcare, so he works 12 hours a day for 4 days, then gets 4 days off, then 12 hours at night for 4 days, and so on. Today was one of his days off, so his brother (M21, I'll call him Dan) visited and they spent the day together. They don't usually spend time together. James is into computers and gaming, whereas Dan cares more about football than anything else. Not saying that to be derogatory, I get it, F1 is my life lmao. They're just really different people and have never been close, which is why it was really nice for them to spend time together today while I was out with my sister. I got home at about 8pm after having dinner with my sister and getting all of our Christmas shopping done. My Uncle Ray is a tailor so he's been adjusting my dress, and he sent it back to me while I was out. James and I aren't really the traditional type, so he was at home to accept the dress from Ray and check it was okay. I really thought everything was fine, because James texted me when Ray visited, and he sent me a picture of it. We were both really excited. When I got home, however, Dan had left and James was slightly tipsy (which is totally fine imo. He rarely drinks, and he rarely sees his brother). James told me that the dress was beautiful and he couldn't wait to see me in it. I decided to try it on to check that it was fitted properly. I unzipped the bag, looked at it, and found a weird mark on the chest piece. The top part is a corset-style thing, and there's a crusty stain across it. I've seen my fair share of semen. I know what it is. I don't know whose it was. I'm not sure if I even care. I'm just disgusted. I don't want to touch it. I'm so humiliated that I don't want to tell anyone about it. I don't even know how to bring this up to James. I doubt it was him, which makes it worse because he doesn't have that close of a relationship with his brother, and that's the only other person it could have been. Unless other men were in our house. I can't go ruining my relationship with my in-laws before they're even in-laws. Dan is the golden child. He plays football for their hometowns team. He's my fiance's little brother. But I also can't afford a new dress. I found this one in a sale for $215. What the hell do I do? TL;DR: Someone has ejaculated on my goddamn wedding dress. I can't afford a replacement, and I have no clue how to approach this subject. It was either my fiancé or my fiance's brother. EDIT: It definitely didn't happen at my Uncle's shop. It's only him, his husband, and a few female workers. Ans I got a picture on Snapchat from my fiancé of the dress after it arrived. Comments YoYoMoMa You have to tell your fiance immediately. I mean that's the whole point of getting married and committing to someone. If you can't go to him with extremely difficult things then what is the point of doing this at all? Now obviously there's no good way to do it so you just have to be direct. NickValent710 Yes never lie. Communication. Tell him ASAP stowawaythrowaway87 Great comment. Spot on. If it’s your fiancé, then whatever, it’s a conversation you need to have but it’s not the end of the world. If it’s his brother then again you two can decide together what the best course of action is. No need to carry this burden alone cutiecuppycake I think you need to speak with your fiancé about it. It is something that will continue to bother you unless you know. Also, even more importantly it will weigh heavy on your mind on your special day & that is the last thing you want! I also think if it was your fiancé’s brother… you want to know that. This is someone that will literally become family to you. IMO Step 1: talk to your fiancé Step 2: dry clean the dress OOP: How do I even bring it up? I know I need to talk to him, but I have no idea how to even bring it up Birdamus How? Like an adult: “Fiancé, I have something I need to talk to you about. It’s gonna sound weird, but it’s important and it’s really bothering me.” And proceed… OOP: I'm saving this comment. Thank you for your help Update - 2 days later Okay, so it's been a hell of a few days. I genuinely did not expect this kind of response to my post. I'm so grateful for everyone who gave advice. I'm currently a bit drunk (very drunk) and very angry (absolutely effing fuming. Idk if I'm allowed to swear here, soz). I'm usually a really calm person, but today that calm person has gone on a goddamn holiday. Hopefully to a nice beach in Sydney. I've always wanted to go there. I used some of your responses to write a script that I could read to James. By that, I mean I wrote it, tried to memorise it, and completely forgot most of it. But I got the gist out, and there are a few things I wanted to let you all know that I addressed, both in the conversation and on my own. I also wanted to thank everyone who gave me advice on what to say to the guy I'm about to marry. It really helped me keep my cool. I was ready to take scissors to that dress and send it off for DNA testing. That's how badly I didn't want to have this conversation. These are the most important things I thought I should mention: 1- I asked James what he thought of the dress; he said he loved it and couldn't wait to see me walking down the aisle. Nothing suspicious, he was just excited. 2- I asked James how his evening with his brother went. I don't think anyone suggested this, but I thought that if anything happened and he knew about it, he'd tell me. We've been through a lot together and both know that honesty is the best policy. He said their evening went as well as it could have gone. His words, not mine. Dan drank a lot, but that's pretty normal for him. He tends to drink as much as he can put into his body, then throw up, then drink more (fortunately, he didn't hork in our toilet). They got caught up, James told him about his new job, and Dan ended up telling him about the girls he's talking to at the moment. That conversation lasted about 2 hours. Unfortunately, this is relevant. 3- I did get a screenshot of the photo of my dress. I'm a concept artist, so I know my way around Photoshop. I managed to screw around with filters and adjustments enough to ensure that the dress was 100% clean when it was delivered. The splatter isn't in the picture. And it really is a splatter. 4- I then mentioned that I was about to try on the dress, but there was something on it and I didn't know what it was. I wanted James to take a look so he could help me figure out what it was, and where to get it dry-cleaned. Before he'd even seen it, James was concerned and already asking if Ray & his husband would know someone who could help. 5- I asked James if Dan saw the dress in person. The answer was yes. James told Dan where the dress was, and Dan went alone to look at it while James was on the phone to our local Indian takeout while they were getting dinner. The one silver lining is that he saved me some cheesy naan bread. 6- I showed James the stain, and he quite literally went red. I've never seen him so angry before. Some choice words were said and I'd rather not repeat them. He spilled a lot about what Dan has been like in the past, and that info is also something I probably won't share unless it becomes extremely relevant. Conclusion- Dan jizzed on my fucking wedding dress. The splatter pattern looks like cum. The substance looks like cum. And (still wish I was unalive for doing this) it smells like cum. I touched that shit with my bare hands. I really don't know what else to say now. I've been writing and re-writing this post since yesterday. Most of you were right and I really wish you weren't. I wish someone had snot-rocketed a huge sneeze onto it. I wish Uncle Ray had accidentally squirted mayo onto it while making his lunch. But I seriously don't think I can wear this dress now. It's absolutely beautiful and it was perfect and I felt so goddamn pretty. I was so pleased about the bargain I'd found. But Dan jizzed on it. A whole conversation happened between me and James that I'm too exhausted to remember and repeat, so I'll sum it up: he's furious and I'm furious. I don't even know if a wedding is happening anymore. Basically, James told me that the way Dan spoke about the women he'd been chatting to was abhorrent. There are four of them at the moment, and he's leading them all on because he wants to get laid. He said that he's in peak physical condition, he's conventionally attractive, and he's got a good job, so women should be fighting each other to get with him. He feels entitled to the affection of attractive women, including me. I feel like I'm going to hurl just typing that. I met this idiot when he was 14. I won't lie, Dan's in great shape. He has defined abs and trains every single day without fail. But that kind of body and that kind of lifestyle just isn't what I'm attracted to. I'd rather eat good food and play video games, if I'm honest. Apparently Dan is incredibly jealous that James "managed to date someone like Callie" (me, lol). I've always had a grossly effective metabolism. I don't work out, but I eat pretty healthily and go on a lot of walks. My parents live in a small village, so I go on walks with them so I can take pretty pictures and eat cheesy chips and a brownie from the little cafe at the end of the walk lmao. They make good brownies and the cheese on the chips is proper cheese, not plastic cheese. Meanwhile James doesn't put effort into his physique, yet he 'managed' to date me, who 'clearly puts so much effort into being beautiful'. I dont. I don't wear makeup and I don't dress up. I haven't worn foundation since before the pandemic. James is in shape, mostly cos he rides a motorcycle and that surprisingly requires a lot of thigh muscle. Dan has supposedly always believed that I was better than James because my grades were better and I was in better shape, and that I'd break up with him and move on once I realised that I was wasting my time. Fat fecking chance. James doesn't care about how fat/thin I am. I was horrendously underweight when I met him, but my ass & boobs have always been too big for me. I've been cursed with my Mum's hourglass figure. My back hates me for it. I know I've rambled a lot. Most of it was probably unnecessary but it's felt good to get it out there. I also know a lot of you wanted an update. I know what Dan really thinks about me, and I'm still taking it in. I used to get along really well with him. I was never really into football, but I've always followed F1 (which I know he kind of likes) and I support a local Rugby League team (which I know he really likes). I don't know. I just thought we were friends. James sees my sister as his sister. She sees him as a brother. She's always been socially anxious, so to hear that for the first time actually made me cry. I also saw Dan as the brother I never had. I always wanted a brother. We bonded over sports the few times we spoke. I never realised he thought of me that way. I really thought we were brother and sister. What the hell do I do now??? I obviously have a wedding to think about, but I don't even want to wear the dress. I don't even want the wedding anymore. If there's a wedding, Dan will be involved. James and I haven't even begun to consider what we'll tell both sets of parents. That's a whole other problem. And what the hell do I do about Dan? I want to stockpile my cat's poop and throw it through his bedroom window, but obviously I know that's not the right thing to do. Even if Hermes is having some awful smelling poops right now. Maybe his name is a sign lmao. Maybe Hermes is the poop messenger. TL;DR: Future brother-in-law jizzed on my wedding dress. Haven't told family yet, so fallout is imminent. Just need to know what the hell to tell them. And how to approach FBIL. EDIT: I think he knows that I know what he did. He's stood at my front door. He's been there for about 15 minutes. He keeps ringing the doorbell. EDIT 2: He's given up. He was there for about half an hour in total. I think he's drunk again. I am too, but I think I've got a damn good excuse. I have a Ring doorbell and I just watched him piss in my flowerbed and walk away. Comments DrFishTaco Why would he still be involved? Ban him entirely from the wedding? OOP: Jizz-Man-Dan is the son of my future In-Laws They're providing the menu & the venue. I want to ban him from the event, but idk how mother-in-law and father-in-law are gonna take the news. woman_thorned your future husband is telling them. "I have to say something incredibly awkward but I have no choice. Dan masturbated onto my wife's wedding dress and will not be at the wedding." VanMan32 Well you'll have to have the fallout before a Dan-less wedding. Dan is beyond disgusting to think of ruining this special day for not only his brother but you. I would not know how to proceed forward. OOP: I'm either gonna have to ignore what Dan-the-Jizz-man has done, or I'm gonna have to bring it up with my future Mother & Father in-law. She's been his biggest cheerleader since before he could walk. He can do no wrong in her eyes. And he's either likely to completely cut me off, or beat Dan to a pulp. Unfortunately, there's no in-between. Currently half wondering if postponing the wedding because "insert reason here" would be better than telling the truth. PS. Am drunk rn. Dan is a c**t BrownDogEmoji All I can say is “yikes.” Quite honestly, Dan sounds like he’s a terrifying person. He drinks to excess, he thinks women (including his brother’s fiancée) are objects, he has a weird air of entitlement around sex that sounds kind of like a PUA. He jizzed all over your wedding gown. I wouldn’t be surprised if it came out at some point that he’s raped a woman. I would cut Dan out of my life so fast. It sounds like James is on your side, which is good because I don’t think you are safe around Dan. OOP: Ahahaha "yikes" has pretty much been my catchphrase these last few days. It's so ridiculous. I still feel stupid even typing it out. I haven't stopped feeling like I'm gonna be sick. Turns out Dan is a raging misogynist. James said he really did sound like he thinks he deserves sex. Men who just happen to be thin (like James) don't deserve pretty ladies, and apparently I'm a pretty lady. And apparently James doesn't deserve me. But unfortunately he said all of this after James ordered food, because that's when Dan went off to look at the dress. I really thought I was friends with him. We spent hours watching races together. We spent ages talking about our Max v. Lewis predictions. It's such fucking bullshit. He was teaching me more about football because I've always been interested, but I've never known anyone who liked it. I thought we were friends. He was my brother. uchimala Nope, he wasn't your brother. He was a POS. He fucking came on your dress. It's a very dehumanizing act and very disrespectful. If this happened to my daughter, I don't know if I could control myself. Can't believe the disrespectful things some men do to women. Sorry, no forgiveness if it was me. Something's can't be undone. I also wouldn't be afraid to tell my in-laws and my parents. No secrecy, no coverups. OOP: I'm so angry and bitter. I was never close to my dad, so it was really nice to have a guy who also liked the same sports. And he accepted that I needed stuff explaining sometimes. I want to punch him in his stupid face. There's a really petty, spiteful part of me that wants to message those women to explain what he's doing to them. Update - 4 years later I don't use reddit a lot and I've just seen that this was on BORU because my sister sends me the interesting ones. I did lie about a lot because I really didn't want my family to find out that I'd posted about this online. I kept forgetting what I'd lied about. Enough time has passed and I'm now certain BIL doesn't use reddit. He didn't jizz on my dress, he took a shit on it. That's why I was certain I knew what had happened. I'm definitely not a perfect supermodel with an hourglass figure and a lot of the unnecessary details I gave were wrong on purpose. I was just really worried someone would recognize me. BIL is no longer in our life. My MIL & FIL unfortunately don't believe what happened. I said they were on my side and wanted him in therapy, but that was just wishful thinking. I don't know what goes on in their heads. I try to avoid his family when I can. They live quite far away and they don't like traveling, so I don't see them a lot. My husband, cat & I are doing well. We managed to avoid drama over Christmas by visiting our families individually. His parents are a bit annoyed I didn't visit this year, but I've been a bit too busy with work. Anyway, sorry for any confusion. I'm just glad this is over and I never have to see BIL ever again. Comments Shitp0st_Supreme I don’t know which is worse! I’m so sorry, that’s so gross. I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP. Please remember the No Brigading Rule and to be civil in the comments submitted by /u/SharkEva to r/BORUpdates [link] [comments]

Warning: Very long post filled with glowup tips and tricks learned over the years, from women who have it all ;) We're at the last quarter of 2025. Let's end the year strong by sharing your favorite glowup tips, whether that's emotional, physical, or mental! Here are some of mine: Hair Invest in good haircare tools - Whether that's buying a worthwhile tool (Dyson/Phillips) or a wooden comb (Hua Mulan is my favorite), your haircare tools should be quality. Never scrimp on products that could potentially damage your hair (like an off-brand hair dryer!) Know your hair porosity - I have thick, wavy hair but I'm a low porosity girl whose hair feels instantly heavy or greasy with the wrong conditioners. Most people are low porosity if they haven't undergone too many hair treatments or if walang rebond/bleach. Then you'll know which conditioners are more likely to work for you Pre-wash hair oil treatment - Add any suitable oil to your hair (for me it's Jojoba or Sunflower) at least 30 minutes before showering, rinse it off with conditioner. Less frizz and your hair will feel much smoother. Skin Hydrating Toners - For girls with dehydrated skin (different from dry skin), layering your toners (at least 2-3 thin layers) will give your skin the bounce and dewiness it desperately needs. Mochi skin can be achieved by the right toner. (For me, Hada Labo in the white bottle is a good start) Sunscreen - Never leave the house without wearing it. Yes, even on rainy or cloudy days. A lot of Japanese and PH brands have perfected facial sunscreen without the thick, heavy feeling (Belo Dewy Essence is the closest we have to light, dewy japanese sunscreen!). Lightening Dark Spots/PIH - Cos de Baha's TXN is a true life saver and has significantly improved my PIH in a month. If you suffer from dark spots, also consider hydroquinone. Pick a routine and stick with it - The best skincare routine is the one you can consistently follow. You can start with 4 (cleanser, toner, moisturizer + spf in the day), and slowly integrate serums, vitamin C, and exfoliation as you go. It just takes time and getting used to Makeup A good eyelash curler - will change everything. Know if your eye shape is more round or wide, and adjust accordingly. Not all curlers are made the same, which is why they can cause your lashes to lie flat no matter how many times you curl. Shiseido creates different curlers for different eye shapes. Know your undertone - If your makeup looks out of place, too pinkish or too orange, it's because of your undertone. Know this and you will unlock the right colors for your face. Btw, lavender and lilac blushes look great on cool tone girls, while pinkish hues can look orangey. Foundation is thinner than concealer for your face - A lot of people use concealer all over their face, but the product is really meant to cover smaller areas, hence why we use it for dark spots/circles primarily. You'll achieve a more skin-like finish with actual foundation rather than concealer. BB cream also works. Sample often - Say no to blind buys, especially for expensive makeup. As much as you can, sample in stores like Look At Me (MOA) or at Rustan's. It will save you from buying makeup you don't use. A good color corrector - is one thing every gal needs, especially if you have dark circles. Skin Food, Pixi, and NARS all have suitable correctors. You'll know it's good if you no longer need to wear concealer/very minimal concealer. Falsies - Can up your game and make your eyes that much prettier. Choose based on your eye shape. Fox lashes suit longer eyes, while Dog/Puppy lashes suit rounder eyes. Perfume Signature Scent - So chic. If people compliment you often on it, or if you feel confident in it, it's a good candidate. But also consider the hot and humid weather in the Philippines, where caramel and vanilla scents can cause headaches. Decants and samples - Buy 1mL samples instead of bottles if you're not 100% you'll like the scent - it scratches the itch to buy, too. You can get 1-2 days of wear on a sample and know if it's for you Spritz your hair - Perfume that is lightly applied to hair wafts in the air very pleasantly; if you want your scent to last, spray here. Lifestyle Be serious, but don't take things seriously - Guy ghosts you after 3 great dates? Kick him to the curb. Didn't do your best at work? Laugh it off and try again. Be serious about your goals but playful about the means. Life is too short to agonize over people and situations that aren't meant to last. Less stress = better outlook, better looks, too! Incorporate movement - Walk a little everyday and do some exercise. Dance workouts, yoga tutorials, and at home pilates - all good. You need to find something you can tolerate. The skin glow that working out gives cannot be imitated by makeup or skincare alone Tea in the morning - Met a 40 year old woman who didn't look a day over 28. Her secret is jasmine and green tea or lemon with sea salt in the morning. It could be genetics, but I do it anyway and I feel refreshed. Full of antioxidants and the good stuff. Intentional Eating - Do you really want that triple cheeseburger, or are you avoiding confronting work stress? Do you want that bag of chips, or are you just trying to move on from a failed talking stage? Eating can be emotional - and if you can handle your emotions well, you'll learn when you're using food as a cope or as something to nourish your body Say No - Boundaries are everything. You get better at this as you get older. Say no to the extra work tasks. Don't be afraid to stand your ground if someone's making you uncomfortable. The better you get at protecting your boundaries, the more confidence you get and more alignment you'll be in. These are just a few of the many things I've acquired over the years. A mouthful, I know. But tiis-ganda is real, it is a work of a lifetime. Would love to hear your tips and tricks, too. xx submitted by /u/QueasyExamination7 to r/beautytalkph [link] [comments]

I visited Phoenix (around Paradise Hills, North Phoenix) for about a month to see my girlfriend. It was my first time leaving my country, so I was really excited. I had the motivation to write down my highlights. I hope this is okay! If you have any questions, please leave them here, I will gladly answer. It was 99% just a visit to my girlfriend but she showed me many things in Phoenix and we watched a baseball game. I can not say which of those points are just Phoenix specific or the US in general. Pros Weather This might be surprising. When I left the airport, I thought I was just walking through hot air from the doors but it was Phoenix heat, and I was shocked. It didn’t feel real, more like gravity pressing on me. After a while (always covered in sunscreen) I started to love it, as long as I wasn’t exposed for more than an hour. The “dry heat” joke is true: 110°F in Phoenix felt better (for short periods) than 90°F in Germany. Still, I’d never go into a pool, and I was terrified by how many people went shirtless running. I also burned myself on the seatbelt multiple times. The cars after being in the sun for a long time are unreal death traps. My girlfriend laughed her ass off. Public parks I was amazed by how many people played volleyball, fished, or just hung out in the evening. There were free tennis courts (I think), and everything was well lit. Very good vibes. People Not a single rude person. Not saying there are none, but I did not meet one. A random old guy even complimented my shirt while touching my shoulder. Even in Walmart, everyone was kind. I talked to more strangers in one month than in five years in Germany. And everyone was saying 'Sorry', 'Excuse me', 'Right behind you' all the time. This was very new to me. Food I tried all the big chains, plus local, Chinese, and Mexican restaurants. Very amazing overall. Didn’t like Five Guys, way too expensive. I missed some simple Chinese dishes I’d usually get in Germany, but maybe I just didn’t find them. Favorite chain: In-N-Out and the Golden Corral Buffet was AMAZING. Pancakes for the toaster (omg) Ranch dressing Free refills and drink fountains are heaven. 2 bucks for a HUGE drink which would probably cost at least 6 or more bucks in Germany without refills Free water in restaurants, also not a thing in Germany Hot dog chili and cheese dispensers. Absolutely alien to me. I loved it tho. Stores Retro stores were incredible. Thrift stores (Goodwill especially) were addictive. I could browse for hours. Left with shirts and books and I had to resist buying useless but super cool old stuff. There was also a store with hundreds of booths. Got a Fuwamoco Plushy. Other cool things Cacti (so many shapes and sizes). I made so many photos of the same thing So many malls and they were all so different Arcades (2 hours unlimited play for $10 for most machines without tickets, one place even looked like a palace with a roller coaster outside) Seeing a lizard eat a lizard just outside in front of my door City looked surprisingly clean. Yes sometimes an empty cup laying around but most of the time it looked good. Palm trees (How are they real) and... 5G PALM TREES WTF, I could never get tired of the mountains in the distance (I did not climb them, because I don't trust myself in that heat) Walking among peacocks while reading history in a small park was an unreal experience American-style patriotism (everything from hats to popcorn to underwear). This was very new to me but I kinda liked it! I almost felt patriotic for a foreign country lol Shopping carts have f*cking cup holders! So many pretty front yards of people. One has a damn dragon! Rafi Rafi, Rafi Rafi. Cons Prices were confusing. Chips ~$4, but a whole cooked chicken ~$7. Many offers felt like scams (“Buy 2 get 1 free” but with inflated prices). Or the typical "Get the small one for ~$2 or the version 3 times as big for ~$2.20" (exaggerated) Bread. It is a deadbeat horse at this point from Germans so I don't go into detail. I loved the honey wheat one! Haus Murphy was not very good and overpriced and not authentic. Huge trucks combined with the pedestrian lights was terrifying to cross streets. Pushy sellers. In one store, I was approached four times. Every store had at least one salesperson coming at me. I'm not judging the sellers tho. Just a different culture and it made me scared. I also felt watched all the time to give me a good service. Right at the second when the basked was empty, a seller would come and take it away immediately. "Small" talk at checkout. Cashiers packed my stuff while chatting. My girlfriend talked for me while I stood awkwardly (sorry, Walmart cashier, you were cool). Hot Topic (I think it was called that). Was that back section really not meant for kids? Because kids were everywhere. Aggressive panhandling. Totally new concept for me. Couldn’t try Costco’s hotdogs because of the membership :( Weak water pressure (maybe just the apartment), and water tasted and smelled weird. Shopping carts on the parking spots and why the hell do the back wheels not rotate. Makes it so weird to push around. Why are parking spots not in shade Public Toilets are so damn open. You can easily look over to the other stall Neutral Damn so many broken cars. I wondered how some of them even still drive Jesus the parking spots are huge Jesus Fast-Food sellers talk so fast Sorry for the long message but Phoenix, thank you! I loved every single day and will definitely come back. submitted by /u/RequirementRare4011 to r/phoenix [link] [comments]

Hey all. This will be a bit of a long one, and not a happy one. I wasn't sure if I should tag this as "adoption," or "mourning/loss." I went with the former, because this wonderful cat is thankfully alive and well, and I didn't die either, lol. TL;DR at the bottom. Some backstory: I live in a house with two roommates, one with a dog, and another with a cat. We'll call the one with the cat J. At the end of this summer, we will all be moving out to separate places. No animosity, no drama, but we're all at different points in our lives. One issue: J's cat absolutely loves me, and I feel the exact same way about her. If J isn't home, then the cat is probably hanging out with me. Whenever J goes out of town, I get to watch the cat. It's going to be hard to live without a little friend like that to keep me company, and J has encouraged me to adopt a cat of my own. About a month ago, I was doing my usual Sunday evening routine, sitting out on the front porch, taking in the summer air, drinking a beer, and reading, when I heard what sounded like a kitten mewing close by. I saw a cat across the street, but the meows didn't match her size (there are quite a few outdoor, stray, and feral cats in our neighborhood). I went inside and told J that I thought there was a kitten outside, and she immediately wanted to find and catch it. About ten minutes of searching later, we had him located, but he was skittish, and didn't want to let us catch him. We eventually cornered him, and J pretty much ended up diving into a bush to grab him. Once we had him caught, we could see that he was pretty young, small, dirty, and had an injured tail. He meowed at us a lot, and bit J on the hand, but we wrapped him in a towel and gave him a Churu, and that calmed him down a lot. After that, it didn't take long for him to lower his guard and let us pet him and hang out with him. I sat with him for a a while, and he climbed into my lap, made biscuits, and started to purr while I pet him. In less than an hour, he had gone from running, hiding, hissing, and biting, to the sweetest little ball of black and white fur. J told me that I might've found my cat. We got him fixed up for the night with a litter box, and J made a run to get him wet food (her cat only eats the dry stuff). He seemed pretty comfortable, but we still didn't know if he had any health issues, and if he was indeed a bona fide stray cat free for the taking, or just somebody's escaped pet. We decided that J would take him to the city animal shelter the next day, but if everything checked out, I would adopt him. I tried not to get too attached to him, I knew there could be a million things that could happen, but every time I thought about him, I knew that I had to keep him. J dropped him off at the shelter the next day. They told her that because he had bitten her, they would have to put him in a quarantine period to make sure he didn't have rabies or anything. She gave them her info, and told them that if he wasn't someone's pet, I wanted to adopt him. They told her they would contact her with updates and gave her a reference number for him, but I would have to fill out an adoption application myself before they could put a hold on him. About a week and a half went by, and J didn't hear anything from the shelter. On July 3rd, I got out of work an hour early, giving me time to go to the shelter during their adoption hours and ask about the cat. When I arrived, I was told that while he was just finishing up his quarantine and still needed to be cleared by their vet, but I could apply to adopt him while I was there. I was approved, of course, and the adoption counselor told me that with the holiday coming up, it would probably be another few days before I heard back, plus it was standard procedure to foster kittens to get them properly socialized before they could get adopted out. All good though, since he was reserved for me, and they had both my contact info, and J's. A few days came and went, and I didn't hear anything from the shelter. I wasn't worried though, I know these things can take time, and I had already gotten my name on the kitten before he had even hit the adoption floor. I figured if they needed to update me, they would. Besides, I don't like it when people bother me while I'm just trying to do my job. I knew they were busy, and I was certainly busy with work and life. I didn't want to rush them, my cat would be there when the time came, right? More time passed with no updates. I kept a close eye on my email, and made sure my phone ringer was on. I was starting to get concerned, but I still didn't want to bother people just because I felt impatient. It had been nearly two weeks without contact. I decided that it would be best if I called them, even if it risked coming off as rude. No answer, but I was able to leave them a voicemail. I also sent an email asking if there were any updates. That's when they finally responded: "Hi fromthewindyplace, Thank you for following up and we apologize we haven't contacted you back regarding this kitten. After looking into it, it appears this kitten is still in foster. We do already have an adopter lined up for this kitten once it is out of foster, but we can add you as the second adoption hold if you'd like. This means that if the first adopter does not end up adopting, we would contact you to see if you are still interested in adopting this kitten when the time comes. If you have any questions, please let us know. Thanks, City Animal Shelter" Wait, what? First adopter? I though I was the first adopter? I had been approved for him before he even got out of bite quarantine, how could there have been someone else before me? That most definitely would have been at least mentioned when I filled out my application. There must be some mistake, we must be talking about two different cats. This isn't making any sense, this can't be possible. As diplomatically and calmly as possible, I said as much in my reply, and attached a picture I had taken the night we found him. This picture, actually. Today, they replied again: "Hello, We'd like to apologize for our miscommunication regarding this issue. From the photo, it looks like this might be the same cat you're talking about. After looking through our records on this cat in particular, it seems that our counselor might have missed putting into the memo that you were interested in adopting. Therefore, we unfortunately missed your interest in this kitten and someone else placed a hold on it. In the spirit of making amends, I've made a note to waive your next adoption fee, and I'd like to invite you down to our facility to meet with and potentially adopt any of our current kittens. I'm very sorry about this mistake we've made, and we look forward to seeing you down at the facility. Warm Regards, City Animal Shelter" So that's it. The kitten that I thought was meant to be mine, that came to me out of the darkness like an act of destiny, that I had gotten so attached to so quickly, is going to a stranger, and there's nothing I can do about it. I know, it all sounds a bit dramatic. I know, I shouldn't have gotten so attached to a cat I only knew for less than a day. I know I can adopt another kitten, no shortage of them. Or an adult cat. Or even a dog. They just won't be that cat. I feel like I let him down. I know, I should've been more assertive, I shouldn't have taken them at their word, I should've been less trusting. I know it was just a mistake, I know they weren't trying to hurt me, but I still can't help but feel betrayed. TL;DR: I found a stray kitten, took him to the animal shelter, was approved to adopt him, but they messed up his paperwork and gave him to somebody else, and now I feel real bad about it. submitted by /u/fromthewindyplace to r/cats [link] [comments]

I am not The OOP, OOP is u/pookythedog Me [25F] with my live-in boyfriend [28M] of 4½ years, am I blowing this out of proportion or should I really be nervous? Editors Note: this is a LONG post about OOP leaving an abusive Jeckll & Hyde relationship TRIGGER WARNING: Domestic abuse, verbal abuse, gaslighting, threats MOOD SPOILER: Terrifying but hopeful for OOP in the end Original Post Apr 5, 2016 Sorry in advance for the wall. George and I have been together for a long time now. He’s going to propose to me this summer after I graduate (I went back to college for a second degree), we’re planning our wedding and honeymoon, designing our future house, and we talk about the child we want to have someday. I think it’s pretty safe to say things are serious between us, and we’re deeply in love. However, things have not been so easy for us in the past. Our combined anxiety has caused a lot of grief for us. I’m still struggling with being abandoned and left to fend for myself as a child, and he’s struggling with deep fears from past abuse by his father, brother, and ex-wife, who were all mentally and physically abusive. Understand that George is so sweet and loving. He does his best to help me and encourage me any way he can, and it’s clear to me that he wants me to succeed and be happy. But with George it’s like a Jekyll-Hyde thing. Sometimes I can’t even believe my wonderful boyfriend could swap so quickly. When he asked for a pre-nup, I understood: his ex stole everything he owned and left him homeless for months. When he gets nervous and withdrawn in response to my stress, I get it: his dad was abusive whenever something stressful happened. And maybe it’s just my own anxiety, but things are starting to get precarious for me. About once every 2 weeks he asks me if I’m cheating. His ex cheated on him multiple times. Sometimes he just randomly asks, “Are you cheating?” and I’ve been patient because I understand how anxiety can be. I make sure to always show him who I’m texting and snapchatting, and I let him answer my texts when he hears the tone, and see my call logs. Other times it gets more serious. Some months ago he announces that he knows I’m cheating, because he found, in the trash, a carryout bag and the remnants of a dinner for two from a restaurant he’d never been to. I point out that it was from the week prior when I’d gone to a café to meet my sister, and I let the leftovers go bad and just threw them out. But it’s only after I show him an Instagram picture of the meal and a pic of me and my sister from the same place that he believes me. Another time, he says he knows (he uses that word) I’m cheating because he saw a picture on Meetme of me in my underwear in somebody else’s house. I ask him to show me the picture, and he says it’s already been deleted, and admits it was just from the shoulders-down. I invite him to look at every piece of underwear that I own to see if it looked familiar. He admitted, after searching, that the woman had been wearing a black bra, and he remembered I don’t own one of those because I like white shirts and they always show underneath. After he remembered, he calmed down. This last time was the most serious of all. I’ve been stressed due to midterms this past week, and I’ve been nonstop studying in the library. I always study in the same place, by a window in the library, and he’s come along and brought me food and helped me study. When I’m stressed, I can get pretty withdrawn, especially when I’ve got a lot to do. I noticed he was getting more and more nervous about it, which cumulated (I thought) in my accidentally spilling water off my nightstand and swearing up a storm. I said over and over again that it had nothing to do with him, NOTHING was directed at him, he wasn’t even in the room at the time, but he accused me of taking out my stress on him. After that he was extremely withdrawn and moody. The next day I was boxing things up to send back home to my parents, and I hear music suddenly blaring from the kitchen and I find George in there cooking dinner, which is something we always do together. I’m in a good mood and I try to join him but he doesn’t let me. He keeps saying that I need to stop being rude to him. I had apologized for every wrong he cited against me, but he maintained that he was just tired of my behavior and, in my mind, it felt like he was deliberately holding on to those past wrongs. This eventually leads to a pretty huge fight, where I shout at him that he’s making my life hell right now on top of all my other stress, and he calls me a cunt and a stupid bitch. I respond by calling him a childish asshole. He runs out the door to go buy cigs down the block, and I leave too, and head back to the library. I stay there until 2AM, studying. When I get home, the first thing I notice is that the front window is shattered. This scares the shit out of me. George has thrown things and broken things before (never at me, never my stuff), so I was afraid of what kind of mood he was in. I go inside and he’s still awake, waiting for me. I don’t say anything to him, it’s very late, I’m tired, and I have an exam in the morning, so I take a shower to help me sleep, I change into my PJs and prepare a bed on the couch, because I don’t want to be near him. As I’m settling in, he walks in and demands to know why “there’s fresh cum” on my panties. I can’t even believe what I’m hearing. He shows me my panties, and it’s SO ridiculous, because he knows I’d been dealing with a yeast infection these past few days, which causes white discharge, and requires white-ish medication. The stuff on my panties is so obviously not cum, but he absolutely believes it is. So we fight. I bring up the yeast infection and he seems to realize that I’m right because he immediately abandons that argument and switches to how I’ve been “disrespecting” him this past week, and he won’t stand for it anymore. I ask how I’ve been disrespecting him. He brings up how I didn’t walk him out of the library the times he’s joined me there. I point out that he always needs to leave before I’m done studying, so I want to stay and keep studying, and I think that’s reasonable. He says I’m ungrateful for his bringing me food and flash-cards in the library. I say that I do remember thanking him, and he finally admits that he’s “grasping at straws” but that he does feel disrespected. I say that it’s his anxiety, and I ask him to please realize that, I try to remind him that we’re best friends and we love each other, and I would never do anything to try and hurt him, but he snidely tells me to go talk to my therapist about it (he doesn’t believe in therapy). He won’t stop yelling until I hide under the covers, plug my ears, and start crying. Then he shouts that I’m “not a victim” and leaves me alone finally, but my anxiety keeps me up all night, and I end up failing one of my tests the next day because I’m so tired and my eyes are so grainy from crying. By the next afternoon we’re back on speaking terms. He admits that he knew there wasn’t cum on my panties, because he drove by the library a few times and saw me studying there in the window where I always study. I feel very nervous about this because I realize that even with definitive proof, with his own eyes, that I didn’t do anything wrong, he still went ahead and accused me. Recently we watched Horns together, and I mentioned that I thought it was unrealistic how the best friend became a psychopath out of nowhere. I thought, given they’d known him his whole life, there would have been some signs that indicated he was crazy, and his friends would’ve had a hunch. George said he wasn’t surprised: he said that he believed anyone could snap and become a rapist/murderer out of nowhere, and people could hide their true intentions no matter how well you think you know them. He cited the time his sister-in-law (married to his abusive brother) tried to strangle him out of nowhere. I know he’s very distrustful of everyone, so I understand why he said that, but still, it made me afraid. The last few days have been so difficult for me. I already feel very sick to my stomach with nerves. I brought up what he said about Horns, and kind of half-jokingly asked if he was going to kill me. He says no but that he does sometimes imagine “punching me in the face.” I tell him I sometimes think of punching him, too, but I would never actually do that, and he should never do that either because I will leave. He just laughs and says he won’t, and I think the conversation is over, except he suddenly says, “If you cheated on me, I think I’d be angry enough to try and kill you, and probably succeed.” I respond by saying I would probably be angry enough to kill him if he cheated, but I wouldn’t actually hurt him. He doesn’t really have a response for that. Yesterday he said it again. I mentioned how one of my friends and her now-husband went celibate for their entire engagement period (1-year). He casually responds, “That sounds horrible. I think if I had to go more than two weeks without sex I’d probably freak out and kill you.” This made my stomach do a flip-flop because it was the second time in two days. I say something like “You know I won’t be able to have sex for like, 6 weeks after I give birth, right? Even if it’s cesarean, because I need to recover from surgery.” He doesn’t say anything and that freaks me the fuck out, so I press him, “You know that, right?” and he says, “Well it’s gonna be tough.” Things are spiraling out of control for me. I know I often don’t think straight because of my GAD but I’m not happy with how things are going. I want to tell him not to accuse me of cheating anymore, that I’ve more than proven myself to him, and that we can’t fight like this anymore, and he needs to STOP saying anything about killing me because even if he’s joking it makes me sick to my stomach, but now I’m a little afraid that if I pick a fight about this, he’s going to think that I’m cheating and trying to cover it up somehow. Further, I’m worried that if I can’t account for every minute we’re apart (like cameras following me everywhere) then one day, if my phone dies, or if I get stuck in traffic, or if some male coworker greets me inappropriately against my will, George will believe I’m cheating and possibly kill me? TL;DR: Boyfriend saying some worrying stuff including casually mentioning killing me and now I’m flipping out, but I have issues too so I don't know if it's him or me. Is this my overreaction? I don’t know where to go from here. Update - wayback machine Apr 13, 2016 (8 days later) The last few days have been very hard overall. I haven’t got much sleep. I was way too busy driving and moving and planning and running and life-decision-making and crying and pretending to be normal. My worldly possessions have been reduced down to what I could stuff into my old cross country duffel bag. My dogs are traumatized to the point that one of them is now fear-biting and cries whenever I’m not in direct contact with her, and the other is exploding toxic waste out of both ends. And I’m simply no longer recognizable as the person I was, physically and mentally. Never in a million years did I think I’d end up in this place. Everything was pulled right out from under me, and it’s like I woke up in someone else’s fucked-up life. But I’m alive, and that cancels out any of my irrelevant complaints. Last week, I got back from the hospital after a really nasty stomach-bug, which I thought was the flu. I collapsed on the couch to sweat it out. I was in a lot of pain but I’d still dragged myself to the store to get ginger ale and sports drinks because I didn’t want to ask George to do it for me. I realized I needed to appease him however I could until I could figure out a plan, because the reddit responses scared me and I decided I needed to get away. As soon as I got home George poured me a glass of orange juice and told me to drink until I threw up. I explained the doctor’s orders, but he insisted that enough orange juice would make me throw up or give me diarrhea and that would “flush my system” and “get the toxins out.” As unpleasant as throwing up (again) sounded, because I was really dizzy and weak, I decided to try the orange juice. All it did was burn my scratched-up throat and it didn’t help settle my stomach, so I stopped drinking it and started drinking ginger ale. He got seriously annoyed by that, and kept insisting I drink the orange juice. I told him that it burned my throat, and he said “Well your throat’s just gonna burn anyways.” No idea what that meant. He then asks me where my phone is. Apparently he wanted to put on some music. I have no idea where it is, but as he starts a full-on investigation for it, I remember I’d had my /r/relationships post open on the “reddit is fun” app at the hospital, but I had a mild fever and I couldn’t remember whether or not I had closed it. A few people warned me what might happen if he saw my post and all those warnings jumped right to the front of my mind. I’ve been in some pretty intense situations before but I’ve never felt anything like the pure unadulterated terror of lying there waiting to see if my psycho boyfriend would find my phone and find out what I’d written. I thought about trying to find it before he got to it or casually trying to discourage him from looking, but I knew he’d be suspicious if I suddenly jumped up at the mention of my phone—in fact I realized that if I reacted at all, he’d be suspicious enough to probably search until he found something “incriminating,” and it didn’t matter how well I covered my tracks, eventually he’d settle for something to be mad about. So I had to just lie there, pretending not to panic as he dug through my purse, my backpack, my car—twice. Finally he called my phone and there wasn’t any ring, and I remembered I’d put it on vibrate in the doctor’s office. I thought I was saved for about 5 seconds but then he went and turned off the noisy air-purifier, so there was absolute silence, and called again, and I could hear my phone vibrating. He found it in my jacket pocket and I swear to God I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than my tiny blank homescreen reflected in his glasses. He puts on music and shut himself in the computer room. After an hour or so I passed out. When I wake up it’s still nighttime, and he’s sitting across from me drinking a beer, and the first thing he says is that apparently his parents are giving away all his childhood things (I guess he called home while I was asleep). I tell him I’m sorry to hear that. I can see he’s in a really bad mood but I’m ill enough and scared enough that I don’t care at that moment, I just want to go back to sleep. He tells me again to drink the orange juice, I explain again about how it burns and doesn’t help my stomach like the ginger ale, and he says something like “Sometimes I think people refuse to do things purposefully because I ask them to. Like maybe I should just tell people to do the opposite of what I want, so they’ll actually do something good for themselves.” And I really am scared of him, because I don’t know what he’s going to do to me. So I drank the fucking orange juice and I tried to throw up and that was the absolute worst pain I’ve experienced in a long time. It felt like someone stabbed me in the sternum, I actually cried a little and got one of those mini black-outs you get when you sit up too fast in the morning. George was standing there while I retched in the tub, and at one point he did put his hand on my shoulder and ask if I was okay, but he didn’t stick around and wait for me to regain my composure, he left the bathroom and when I found him again he was on the computer watching Youtube videos. He didn’t say anything to me the rest of that night, and when I told him goodnight, he didn’t respond. I decide I’m going to wake up early and go straight to my therapist. I never want to feel that fear or helplessness again—over anything, least of all whether or not I’d closed a stupid app on my phone. As soon as the center is open I go to my therapist for a crises walk-in and I tell him everything. He confirms that George’s behavior is troubling. I say I’m scared and that I need help and he gets me in touch with a “victims of domestic violence” thing that’s apparently set up by the university. I hate that all of those words now apply to me and even as I write this I still don’t think they’re accurate. I don’t feel like a victim of domestic violence. But I guess I am. The next 24 hours after I approached my therapist were the most painful (barring Monday, when I had to give up my dogs). The police were called, and I knew there was absolutely no going back once that happened, because George hated the police and he would never, ever forgive me for telling any of this to my therapist. Believe it or not, I did not want to make life harder for George. I have spent so much of the past 4ish years doing everything to make his life easier. I did not want to hurt or punish him. All I wanted was to get away with as little impact as possible—to vanish completely—and go zero-contact, to forget everything and not deal with it. So the last thing I wanted was police involvement, because of the stupendous freak-out it would cause, but the domestic violence victims thing worked in tandem with law enforcement, and I recognized that I wasn’t thinking clearly. So I took a huge leap of faith and actually trusted a trained professional to do his job properly. I was really surprised when a kind-faced woman in a pink blouse stepped into my therapist’s office 20 minutes later, introduced herself as a domestic victim advocate, listened sympathetically and non-judgmentally to my sob story, and proceeded to escort me everywhere for the next few hours (she had a gun on her belt and she was an actual trained cop so I felt as safe as someone like me could feel, considering what I was doing). The kindness my advocate showed me was so far beyond anything any stranger has ever expressed towards me in my life. She gave me a chocolate bar off her desk that she’d obviously bought for herself earlier, offered me her lunch, packed me a to-go bag with water bottles and a can of dog food for my puppies, and told me sincerely that she wished there was anything she could say to comfort me when she and 3 other officers walked with me into my and George’s apartment for the last time. I just told her that I understood, nothing could really be said because it just sucked, but I was glad she was there. I threw clothes, a few pictures, some papers, my travel toothbrush and my phone charger into a bag and pretty much sobbed more hysterically than I thought any sane person could ever sob. It was very embarrassing but I couldn’t stop. To an outsider with a normal-functioning brain who can’t understand exactly what it’s like to be in my shoes, I probably seemed really weak and pathetic and stupid. But to me, getting out didn’t necessarily feel like a good thing—it felt like a disaster. I was ransacking my own home. George was everything to me, and everything in my body was saying that I was destroying the only real love I’d ever have and betraying my best friend for no reason, especially when I saw a note on the fridge he’d had left for me with a dry-erase marker: “Dogs pooped this morning! They’ve both been fed and Pooks got her medication. Have a great day honey, I love you!” I really wish I would’ve packed smarter (who the FUCK forgets to pack socks?!) but there were 3 large intimidating cops waiting on me in my living room, and the victim-advocate-lady warned me to hurry because we didn’t want George to show up and see this. It was very distressing. I had to leave behind so many things. I know it’s all just worthless junk but it was my home, things I’d picked special and had for years. The gaming PC I built myself, my dogs’ toys, my sprouting plants that were so close to blooming, my favorite sunflower-patterned dishes… the beautiful wooden bookcase my father made for me in his woodshop when I graduated highschool, my old gross dog-eared Harry Potter books (some of which I’ve had since I was a little kid), the polka-dot comforter my sister handed down to me after she got married… my old birthday and Christmas cards. That stuff made me feel like a person with a life that mattered. But it wouldn’t fit in my bag so I had to leave it. And I don’t think I’m going to see it again. But it’s not the end of the world; I’ll go on and hoard a lot more useless junk in the future. If I had stayed, I wouldn’t have been able to, and my junk wouldn’t have done my body any good. The dogs were not happy about all the strangers in the house, nor my apparent mental breakdown, and they immediately started losing their minds. I somehow manage to load them and my shit into my car and then it was back to the police station to discuss options. I’d put off calling my family because I didn’t want this to be real, but I figured once George realized some of my shit was gone, it was going to get very real whether or not I felt ready. The call wasn’t bad; I’ve always been able to tell my dad anything and not be judged or ignored, though I hadn’t talked with him for awhile. He and my mom were away on a camping trip, but when I told him things were bad and I didn’t feel safe (no other details were mentioned), he invited me to join them. It was many hundreds of miles away, in the middle of nowhere, but that sounded perfect just then. Nobody could find me, I’d be totally safe—at least for a few days. So I left town. About 3 hours into my 8 hour drive, the calls and texts started coming. I’d asked the advocate lady what I was supposed to do when George tried to get in touch with me, because for him, this is completely out of nowhere and he’s likely going to call the police and file a missing person report if I didn’t come home that night. She gave me a few cookie-cutter sentences to give him, which I put into a brief text. It essentially said that I didn’t feel safe right now, I wanted space, and I didn’t want him to contact me again, I would contact him when I was ready. Then I was stupid and I read the hailstorm of sad texts I got in response to that. Then I was even more stupid and, rather than blocking him, I answered one of his many subsequent calls. It was quick. He sounded scared and heartbroken and I felt bad for him, because I knew he would never understand. He said he was having a panic attack, he didn’t understand, please don’t do this, all I ever did was love and take care of you, we were supposed to get engaged… I cut him off and said that I didn’t feel safe, I didn’t want him to contact me, I couldn’t help him, his behavior was unstable and he needed to go to a hospital. He asked me if this had anything to do with my therapist telling me lies. I said no, but he said something like “I need to talk to that fucking guy, he needs to stay the fuck out of my relationship, he’s messing with my fiancé.” Then he asked me if I’d stopped taking my anti-anxiety medication. But I didn’t answer and I didn’t hear the rest of what he was saying because I just repeated that to him, firmly, all the points I’d already stated, and then hung up and blocked him. I then called my therapist to let him know that he might be in danger. The police got involved again and when George made a threatening call to the center 5 minutes later, the whole place got put on lockdown. I’m not sure exactly what happened, or what he said, but I think my therapist had to have a cop escort him home and George was told not to contact me or the center unless he wanted to be arrested. So I endangered a whole building full of wonderful people who have only ever helped me, and deprived others of their therapy sessions that day. What if somebody else had been in crises and needed help? Just one more thing I can think about when I’m falling asleep at night. My parents aren’t touchy-feely but my dad let me hug him and cry on his shoulder for about 30 seconds and then cheerfully pretended like nothing was wrong. He wiped my laptop and phone in case of keyloggers while joking around with me about the dogs and school and unrelated stuff, which is his way of dealing with problems (to be fair it works really well most of the time). He doesn’t like talking about personal issues, in general it makes him uncomfortable, so I spared him a conversation about what happened. He knew I was safe and getting help and that’s all he wanted. My mom was extremely sympathetic… towards George. She’s always liked him and she told me once that he “made me normal” and, when I mentioned once that I thought he was controlling, she said that I still shouldn’t push him away because he was really nice and good for me, and controlling behavior wasn’t in itself an issue anyway. I hadn’t expected much from her tbh. This was the woman who’d abandoned me in parked cars and her friends’ empty houses so she could go to work, which she very obviously loves more than her family, to the point of being extremely unhealthy (my dad was at the time working all night and sleeping during the day and only changed jobs when I was in my early teens). Also from her came such gems as “Tampons are for bad nonvirgin girls” (note: my mother is a RABID atheist, so what the fuck?) and “Writing is a hobby not a job, don’t waste your time studying that” and “I’ve never been surprised that your sister has more friends than you.” (To my sister she always said I was prettier and skinnier, so nobody won.) She grew up in a severely impoverished third-world country, orphaned at 10, and spent most of her adolescence and early 20’s married to a Hell’s Angel who tried to stab her when she finally left, so there are huge cultural and lingual and emotional gaps between us. I love and appreciate her, but I generally try not to take her advice. Still, I was really hurt by the whole conversation. She kept mentioning how smart and kind George was, asking for blow-by-blow account of what really happened (suggesting that I got it wrong?), trying to puzzle through his delusions, wishing she could help him, feeling sorry for him and wondering if she could talk to him, maybe convince him get to a hospital. I explained over and over that we couldn’t help because he didn’t believe there was a problem, and even if he did go into treatment, I wasn’t going to risk going back (she really wanted me to stick with him and support him through these troubling times). To me and my situation, she said, “I’m glad you weren’t killed.” Literally. That’s it. I had to get back to my life. I was warned the place they were putting me didn’t allow pets. My parents were busy and couldn’t take my dogs, so I ended up having to think about whether or not I could afford to kennel them until graduation—or if it would be easier on them if I found them new homes. I’m selfish enough that I didn’t entertain rehoming them for long. I did not want to lose my dogs. I could lose everything else, but if I lost them I’d die. They were my babies, they used to sleep in my bed before George kicked them out and they were the only ones whom I could cuddle and cry on during this whole nightmare. They were my strongest emotional support. So I swallowed my pride and called Sarah, a friend I’ve known for a couple years now. I haven’t kept up contact all that well because with George it’s just easier to have as few relationships as possible to avoid anyone texting me too often or mentioning anything that he could be suspicious about. She was glad to hear from me. I asked if she knew anyone who could take my dogs for a day or two until I figured out where to keep them. She called a friend of hers who agreed to take them. Then she asked if everything was okay. I thought about lying but I figured I owed her the truth, or at least a part of it. I said things were “really up in the air” right now and I’d have to fill her in later. My roommate got almost no notice that somebody was going to be moving in. My advocate moved really quickly and wanted me out of my situation asap, so by the time my roommate knew, I’d already unloaded all of my garbage in her personal space. I taped a Butterfingers and a friendly little note to her bedroom door and I fully intend to bribe her not to be pissed later by leaving booze in the fridge and letting her know she’s welcome to it. She’s out of town herself right now, so I haven’t met her yet, but she seems nice. I saw Game of Thrones magnets on the fridge so there’s one icebreaker I’ve got. I then changed a few more things to make myself feel safer walking around in the streets. There’s no chance George knows where I am or how to find me, but still. I hope this stungun doesn’t go off randomly in my pocket. I managed to find a kennel I felt comfortable with. They had grassy playpens with shallow swimming pools and fountains and they provided the dogs with enrichment and fluffy beds (I absolutely kid you not, this place looks better than some daycares I’ve seen). It was astronomically expensive but I figured if I was going to use up my rainy-day fund on something, it should be something that would reduce the amount of lifelong trauma my dogs were experiencing. When I went to check my dogs into their temporary new home, I found out that the girl Sarah referred me to had to get up in the middle of the night to take one of them out several times. Vomit and diarrhea everywhere. Which made me feel horrible. I forced $30 on her and arranged to have flowers sent over as a sincere apology for the hell I put her through. Then I gave up my dogs. I can still see them during the day but it broke my heart into pieces to let them go. Sarah met up with me later, and I told her what happened. Like my parents, she really isn’t touchy-feely so there was no crying or hugging or any of that nonsense. She gave me shit for being with George (“Dude I knew he was a psycho, I was gonna tell you off before because you were always crying about him and shit but I figured you were a grown woman and had your shit together damn!”) and then went on to say that I should have called her WAY earlier, and she liked the changes I’d made to my appearance so far, but I should avoid wearing bright colors from now on. She takes off her dark-colored jacket and gives it to me right there. Then she goes on to describe all the ways how my situation was exactly like JLO’s in the 2002 movie Enough, reads me the whole synopsis off Wikipidia and makes plans for us to get smashed and watch it together (I told her I’ve decided to avoid alcohol for the near-future since I’m already dancing on the edge of depression, but I said I’d still show up and bring popcorn balls). Other than how annoyed she was at me over my bad decisions, I couldn’t have asked for a better friend. For a little while at least, she made me feel human. Later that night my dad informed me that George had left him and my mother a threatening message on their public business line. The only way I can think that he got that number was by googling their names. I immediately took the necessary steps to file for a restraining order. The only reason I’m writing this is because I have no idea how to make sense of my life right now except to write it down, and more importantly, I’ve really got nobody else to talk to. When I was a kid, I’d do a lot of journaling to help me get through difficult times. I figure this is the same, only sometimes the journal says encouraging things back. And I’m not going to lie, I could use some encouragement. So I’m just going to dump it all anonymously here, and maybe that will give me some kind of closure, maybe not. I have nothing else to do because I can’t bear to leave this room right now. Also, I feel I owe it to a bunch of internet strangers to say thank you properly, and let you know what’s happened. Some of you seemed truly upset by my situation, and some took quite a large chunk of their time to write to me. So thank you, really, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Because I’m a real girl behind these words, I like sewing my own dresses and watching David Attenborough documentaries and wasting hours of my life on PC games, I like gardening and fantasy books, I struggled through serious depression and GAD and eating disorders that left me very weak but very grateful for my life (so I believed)—I am a real breathing person who was very naive and very vulnerable and you random people saved my life. Honestly, I only ever come on here to look at screenshots of elderly people struggling to use facebook. I thought the internet was full of Machiavellian teenagers who’d probably tell me how bitchy I sounded. Thanks, genuinely, to everyone who answered my post and everyone who sent me a PM. I’ve sat and I’ve read each and every one of them multiple times. I reread them when I start to feel like I’ve overreacted—like maybe I’m crazy. I reread them when I start to think about ever reconciling with George, or feeling guilty about what I’ve done. I’ve printed out my original post and every comment I’ve gotten (yes, even “you in danger girl”) and I put them in my journal and I continue to look at them. Even though none of you guys actually knew me, you cared. And some of you cared quite a lot. You offered me your stories, or someone to talk to, or a place to stay, a book, a phone number to call. Most of you were more concerned about me than my mother. Because I was seriously in danger. I was. There were things I never thought would be affected by my being with George (my dogs, my possessions, the safety of the people around me). I was lonely enough to get myself into that position. And I actually do want to live so I realize I've got to change, too. There's a lot of work to be done. Maybe George isn’t an evil guy, but I’m going to stop describing him as a wonderful person. I don’t believe people are “good” or “evil” but the stuff he was doing was definitely evil. The more I look back on it the more I realized how much stuff I let happen to my life and body that I should not have tolerated. And the absolute fuckfest I’ve endured has made me slowly start to admit that to myself. I can’t explain my reasons for staying with him so long because they aren’t logical. He spent years slowly building up to some of the things he did, and it was easy to forgive him after every seemingly small incident because I didn’t look at the big picture, and I thought I was in love. George is a highly intelligent, gorgeous, funny, inspiring, ambitious and charming man—the kind of man I fully believed was way out of my league. He is often very thoughtful and we clicked in a level I’d never experienced before. He does charity work in the community, has created methods for improving the world in concrete ways both environmentally and socially (mostly concerning the homeless because he was homeless for awhile), and he would bend over backwards to help a friend in need. The sex was amazing when I wanted it. On the surface, he was perfect. Being with him often gave me butterflies. But he is sick. And he’s sick in a way that I can’t fix. Over the years I lost the ability to understand what was okay and what wasn’t. I fought along the way, I even occasionally left, but he always drew me back in. He made me feel special and loved, he said I was an irreplaceable extension of himself, and for a girl who’d never thought of herself as irreplaceable, it seemed to make up for all the bad. I’ve since learned that this kind of stuff is common. I’m going to try my hardest to educate myself and change how I approach relationships, because I now understand that I’m just as sick as George—although in a different way—and if I don’t do anything about it, I’ll likely end up with another George somewhere down the road. I’ve ordered the following books and I intend to read them and to continue therapy so that this never happens to me again. Why Does He Do That? – Lundy Bancroft The Gift of Fear – Gavin de Becker Safe People – Dr. Henry Cloud, Dr. John Townsend The Science of Trust – John M. Gottman Daring Greatly – Brené Brown These are just a few that were suggested to me, by you and my therapist. If you have other suggestions that have helped you, or someone you know, through a situation like mine, please let me know. In the past few days I’ve felt a huge upwelling of pure gratefulness for being alive. There’s still a lot of things I need to deal with but I’ve got a lot of support moving forward: along with a victim advocate, my university provides free legal counsel. So I think I’m going to be okay. Pookythedog Feelings Update: Alright guys check your spelling because all this shit's going in the scrapbook. You think I'm kidding? You see if I'm kidding. I love you guys and it's seriously like this in here for me reading your responses, I've just started pelting people with upvotes in lieu of a thousand "thank you"s because I really am so grateful for your encouragement and your kind words. This has made my life. Also, a few people have mentioned the possibility of poison, so I'd thought I'd let you know I'm going to the doc's tomorrow to see if there's any chance of that, but I'm stable (I think?) and there's no evidence of damage thus far. Hopefully the orange juice thing was just a weird power play and not something more sinister. TL;DR: Escaped. I’m safe, I’m far away. We did it Reddit. THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7 submitted by /u/Direct-Caterpillar77 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

Pic 1: Just hours before her escape. Pic 2: The day we got home from camping and after we gave her a bath. Being a potato sack without a care in the world or any appreciation for the life of luxury we provide her. She could’ve been hungry, wet, dirty, scared, and alone out there! On a mountain! Did I see all the warnings on Reddit about the risks of taking your cat camping? Yes, I did. Did I read that there were too many devastating lost ads to count? Yes, I did. Yet, I thought my fancy, indoor, ragdoll cat could beat the odds and turn into an adventure cat. Welp, I got humbled, and I now know for certain that one should NOT risk taking their indoor cat outdoors, as obvious as that may seem. My husband, dog, cat, and I went camping. Since it was to be our first 3-day camping trip, we worried about leaving our cat home alone since she had never been alone more than a night. Plus, she was on half wet food that we wouldn’t be able to automatically dispense like the dry food. We thought it would be more reassuring to keep her with us, and we even bought a new air tent that would make the entire tent as one zipped up seamless tent. I made sure to get a tent that had two compartments so that the outer compartment would serve as sort of like the airlock of a spacecraft. That way, we could secure her in the interior section before unzipping the tent opening. She was already used to the harness as she had gone on a few day trips with us before, so we also kept her on a long leash inside the tent. We packed everything that would help ease the stress of a new environment, bringing a scratch post, a litter box of decent size, and lots of snacks. It was fine until the early early hours of the morning. She had been meowing, which was not normal and I worried it would wake the other campers. Finally around 4am, she calmed down, and I went to sleep. At 5am, my husband woke to use the restroom and woke me up when he said in a panicked voice, “Coco. Where’s Coco??” We dumbly checked under the blankets and searched the nooks and crannies to no avail. I felt dumbstruck. We lost her. We lost our daughter. We became “those” irresponsible parents. We didn’t deserve them. After searching around the area, under cars, and walking up and down the road, we tried to tell ourselves and each other that we had another two days and Coco would come back to us. In our hearts though, we knew that she wouldn’t. She wasn’t one of those outdoor cats who came back home at night. She has zero survival skills, and she’s even a little clumsy at home! We thought of several other things to do like having the camp manager make an announcement over the loudspeaker, going site to site asking campers if they’d seen Coco, putting up notices on social media and local community sites, etc. We felt so heavy and our future as a family looked bleak - look at what happens when families lose a loved one? Then, suddenly my husband said let’s take the car and drive down to the village further down the mountain. We drove about two kilometers down slowly, calling her name out. When we reached the village, we turned around and on our way back up still calling her name, we saw her walking in the same direction as the car, up the hill, in the middle of the road looking back at us. As if she had heard us call her name. But the car was still rolling forward and she started running away. I unceremoniously threw my dog into the back seat (I apologized to him later), and I jumped out of the moving car running at top speed. I had lost sight of her though when I was jumping out of the car and at my husband’s shouted directions, I turned quickly into an open shed which had both sides open. Because I was still running, Coco, who had actually stopped running and had been sitting in the shed, was surprised by my fast approach and skittered into a 1.5-ish meter long piece of pipe. I quickly ran to the other side where I anticipated her exit, and her head popped out for a minute making eye contact with me, her wide eyes seemingly asking, “Mom?? Is that you?” Not to risk another flight, I blocked both ends of the pipe until my husband caught up, pulled her out and cradled her closely to his chest while simultaneously yelling, “COCO!!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN????” It was a freaking miracle. Three hours of wild adventuring for Coco. Forty minutes of extreme anxiety for Mom and Dad. To make this already long story shorter, I will leave out the details about the grandma on the farm, my dog’s unusually loud whimpering just before we discover Coco, my husband’s fervent prayer, and my own almost-supernatural vision just before finding her. Lessons learned: don’t take your fancy indoor cat outdoors no matter how prepared you think you are, no tent is cat-proof, and pray hard. By the way, for those who might be curious as to how exactly she got out of the tent, we found cat hair caught on the zipper. Never having shown us that she could escape her harness and do more than open door handles in our apartment, we found she had another talent. She freaking nudged the zipper open. submitted by /u/LouisCocoUmma to r/cats [link] [comments]

I am not The OOP, OOP is u/dontfeedtheworm AITBA for refusing to make my brother a “grief lasagna” because I was on a date? Originally posted to r/AmITheBadApple TRIGGER WARNING: Entitlement Original Post Apr 9, 2025 Hi, hello, chaotic beings of Reddit. Okay, so this is gonna sound fake but I swear on my air fryer this is real. I (26F) have a brother, Sam (28M), who just went through a rough breakup. Like, his girlfriend took the dog, the Instant Pot, and his dignity—that kind of breakup. I feel for him, truly. But also… I have a life. So here’s what went down: Last Saturday night, I was on a date. Not just any date—this was Date #3 with a guy who didn’t say “Let’s circle back” or “crypto” in the first ten minutes, which, in my dating life, is basically the Holy Grail. We’re mid-sushi when I get a barrage of texts from Sam. The gist: “Dude. I need your grief lasagna. Like now. Emergency.” Let me pause. Grief lasagna is something I made once when our cat died. It’s literally just lasagna, but I layered it with love, cheese, and enough emotional support that he now thinks it has healing properties. He calls it “therapy with ricotta.” I texted back something supportive like “I’m on a date but I’ll make you a lasagna tomorrow,” and I thought that was that. NOPE. He proceeds to call me three times, sends a crying selfie (???), and drops a passive-aggressive “Guess I know who I can count on” text. All because I wouldn’t bail on a promising date to go full Garfield chef mode. After the date (which, by the way, went great until my phone sounded like a nuclear alarm), I check my phone again and I’ve got a message from our mother, saying: “You know he’s sensitive. He just needs comfort food. You could’ve been there for him.” Ma’am. He is TWENTY-EIGHT. He has DoorDash. He has hands. He knows how to preheat an oven. I made the lasagna the next day, but now he’s being weird and passive-aggressive, and my mom told my aunt (who now thinks I “abandoned him in his time of emotional need”) and I’m getting side-eyed at family brunch like I stole a kidney. So, Reddit: Am I the bad apple for not dropping everything to make my grown brother a pan of grief carbs? TL;DR: My brother wanted my signature emotional support lasagna mid-breakup, but I was on a hot date. Didn’t make it immediately. Now he’s mad, Mom’s guilt-tripping me, and I’m being treated like a sociopath at family brunch. AITA? Let me know if you want to include a spicy update, a wild family cast list, or the full lasagna recipe that started this mess. RELEVANT COMMENTS stooriewoorie I wonder if his immature behavior has anything to do with the reasons his girlfriend broke up with him 🤔. OOP Definitely. Sam has been coddled a lot of his life - we’ve had a conversation and he’s going to work on himself before getting a girlfriend. We will see how that goes! Aromatic-Arugula-896 Yea sorry he's the golden child... TOP COMMENTS GrammaM Tell him you’ll make him lasagna to celebrate when he grows up. Sheesh 🙄. AliceMae18 Yes! Grow-up Lasagna! Bing-cheery Puberty Pasta! OOP Updated the next day/same post - Apr 10, 2025 UPDATE/ EDIT: Am I the Bad Apple for Not Dropping Everything to Make My Brother a Grief Lasagna? Hey again! Thanks for all the comments, laughs, and mild judgment. Y’all really came through. Since this happened last week I already have an update so thought I may as well share since we have some lovely comments! I ended up talking to Sam. He admitted he overreacted but said the lasagna just… comforts him? Like, emotionally. I guess I accidentally created a cheesy trauma support system. I told him I love him, but I’m not dropping a good third date to play barefoot Contessa every time he gets dumped. We’re cool now. I brought him a fresh lasagna the next day and he texted, “This slaps. I forgive you.” So. Brothers. As for the date: Yes, Evan (Date Guy) is still around! When I explained the whole “grief lasagna meltdown” situation, he laughed and said, “That’s honestly adorable in a weird way.” He even asked to try it. So I might be cooking it again soon… but like, on purpose this time. Maybe for our next date? And for the curious, here’s the not-so-magic recipe: Ingredients For the meat sauce: • 1 lb ground beef (you can also mix pork and beef for extra flavor) • 1 onion, finely chopped • 2 cloves garlic, minced • 1 can (28 oz) crushed tomatoes • 1 can (6 oz) tomato paste • 1/2 cup red wine (optional, but it adds depth) • 1 tbsp sugar (to balance acidity) • 1 tbsp dried basil • 1 tsp dried oregano • Salt and pepper to taste • 1/4 tsp red pepper flakes (optional, for a little heat) For the béchamel (white sauce): • 4 tbsp butter • 4 tbsp all-purpose flour • 2 1/2 cups whole milk (warmed) • 1/4 tsp nutmeg (optional, but adds a nice depth) • Salt and pepper to taste For the lasagna: • 12 lasagna sheets (regular or no-boil, but if using regular, cook according to package directions) • 16 oz ricotta cheese • 2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese • 1 cup grated Parmesan cheese • 1 egg • Fresh basil (optional, for garnish) Eat when sad. Or hungry. Or when your brother acts like you abandoned him in the middle of an emotional tornado. Anyway, thanks for validating that I’m not a monster. Just a woman who wanted one single date night without a pasta-based breakdown. THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7 submitted by /u/Direct-Caterpillar77 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

Hi everyone! With bird flu still spreading, many cat owners are looking for alternatives to freeze-dried raw treats and balanced food that don’t require switching to kibble. Since it can be difficult to determine whether freeze-dried products have been heat-treated before processing, I wanted to create a space to compile a list of gently heat-treated alternatives. I’ve also reached out to some brands to confirm their heat treatment methods and am happy to share their responses with anyone looking for more assurance. Here is what I have found so far: Treats Bonker's Purr Pops Trader Joe's Freeze-Dried Just Chicken Orijen's Freeze-Dried Treats (Dog versions suitable for single-ingredient options) Applaws' Freeze-Dried Treats (also have traditionally cooked options) Whole Life (Dog versions are suitable for single-ingredient options) (Only confirmed for poultry products) Bonito flakes (Regardless of brand, I believe) Life Essentials by Cat-Man-Doo (I've read only Chicken and Sirloin) Cuddle Collab by Target Petsmart's Wiggles and Wags Reveal Freeze-Dried OnlyPaws Freeze-Dried Grandma Lucy's Freeze-Dried Plato Treats (Air-Dried) Farm to Pet Treats (Dehydrated) Fresh is Best (except seafood) AyraSit Freeze-Dried Food Feline Natural Freeze-Dried Small's Freeze-Dried Ziwi Peak Air-Dried FreshPet Tender Bites (Gently cooked) Please feel free to add! submitted by /u/MinuteIllustrious921 to r/catfood [link] [comments]

Every year I try to go to the movies as much as possible. It’s my main hobby. I keep track of my thoughts/scores throughout the year, along with all of my ticket stubs. In theaters, I saw: 5 movies in 2015, 9 movies in 2016, 146 movies in 2017, 162 movies in 2018, 192 movies in 2019, 44 movies in 2020, 86 movies in 2021, 270 movies in 2022, 325 movies in 2023, and 298 movies this year. This doesn’t include rewatches, but those are pretty rare for me (7 this year). This is my 7th year doing this ranking on /r/movies. I have a subscription with AMC’s A-List, Regal’s Unlimited, and Cinemark’s MovieClub. I’m also a member of the Fort Lauderdale, Miami, and Toronto film societies. I attended 8 film festivals this year, for a total of 117 films. I attended 24 World Premieres, 11 North American Premieres, 7 US Premieres, 10 East Coast Premieres, 22 Southeast Premieres, 4 Canadian Premieres, and a few Florida/Georgia Premieres. 96 of my screenings had cast and/or crew present for Q&As/intros. I do these rankings and reviews/random thoughts for fun. It’s not meant to be taken super seriously. I just like movies, and I like ranking them. Red Rooms - 10/10 - The most gripping psychological-thriller since The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Extremely disturbing and unsettling at times, but also stylish and sleek. The courtroom scenes and vampire-movie-like score stick with you for a long time. Juliette Gariépy puts in the best performance of anyone this year. There's so much amazing stuff happening with French-Canadian cinema recently and this is another great addition. Best movie of the year. One of the best movies of the past decade. Dune: Part Two - 9/10 - Sci-fi doesn't get much better than this. I have the seemingly-unpopular opinion that the first movie is better than the second, but both are near-perfect. Everything that can be said about Dune 1/2 has pretty much already been said. Anora - 9/10 Civil War - 9/10 Nosferatu - 9/10 - Gothic horror is so back. Lily-Rose Depp does things in this movie physically that I've never seen before on the big screen. Extremely impressed with her performance (and with Hoult/Dafoe/Skarsgard/Corrin as well). A great ensemble surrounded with perfect set design, direction, and cinematography. Loved the scenes in the castle that almost appeared black-and-white. Robert Eggers has not missed for me so far, and this is my favorite of his. Challengers - 9/10 Sing Sing - 9/10 - Colman Domingo, give that man his Oscar [John Malkovich Rounders voice]. The Substance - 9/10 You Are Not Alone - 9/10 - Part La La Land, part Under the Skin, part Eternal Sunshine. A beautiful and hypnotic sci fi love story with a slight horror edge and with layers upon layers of metaphor. It has a lot of interesting things to say about mid-20s loneliness/thoughts of suicide/love/etc. Didi - 9/10 - I'm a sucker for coming-of-age dramas set in recent times. Give me more of this and mid90s-type movies pls. The Order - 8/10 We Live In Time - 8/10 - I went in expecting heartbreak (which I got), but I didn’t expect how funny/sharp it would be. Florence and Andrew have 10/10 chemistry. Only thing keeping it from a higher score is the goofy Super Bowl of Food or whatever scene near the end. The scene at the beginning in the parking garage might be one of the most heart wrenching and well-acted scenes of the entire year. Top-tier score as well. Love Lies Bleeding - 8/10 - I would watch a 2-hour movie montage of Katy O'Brian working out beneath a highway underpass. A violent & twisted mess of sweat/blood/sex/tears/ungodly bodily noises. A real wicked fun time. The Goldman Case - 8/10 - French courtroom dramas, so hot right now. An insanely smart and water-tight screenplay with engrossing performances. It reminded me a lot of Anatomy of a Fall then I realized the co-star (Arthur Harari) in this film is the co-writer of Anatomy. The Beast - 8/10 - A movie that's almost impossible to describe but I'll try: Dystopian-future-sci-fi, period-drama, modern-incel-breakin-thriller, all while staying completely original and beautiful. Extremely layered story and performances. Lea Seydoux and George MacKay are 2 of my favorite actors and they pulled this off with extreme precision and care. One of more harrowing final scenes of the year for sure. Conclave - 8/10 Saturday Night - 8/10 - Frenetic, engaging, and a really fun time. Flies by. I wanted more. So much energy. September 5 - 8/10 The Brutalist - 8/10 - I have some problems with the ending, feels like it undid a lot of what was experienced, but otherwise an impressive monster of a movie. Brody and Pearce are outstanding. Io Capitano - 8/10 Fremont - 8/10 - I love movies that flow like light poems, like Petite Maman or Journey to A Mother's Room. It was a very sweet and cozy. The psychiatry sessions in particular were hilarious, and the bit where the diners are reading their fortunes in the restaurants were perfect. One of my favorite lines of the year is when the old lady fortune cookie writer dies at her desk, and the boss says “she was getting too old to write about the future anyway”. The lead and Jeremy Allen White were only onscreen together but their chemistry was infectious Seagrass - 8/10 LaRoy, Texas - 8/10 - A hilariously-dark Coen Brothers throwback with wonderful performances from Steve Zahn and John Magaro (who I was lucky enough to meet prior to the screening). It's bloody and smart, and that's a rare combination. A Quiet Place: Day One - 8/10 The Last Showgirl - 8/10 - Apart from a few awkward line-deliveries and questionable dialogue in spots, this was a very lowkey, engaging drama with a career-best performances from Pamela Anderson and Dave Bautista. Very dreamy and light. Friendship - 8/10 - It's so fucking stupid. Absolutely no plot to speak of. There's no character development. It's barely even a movie. It's basically a 90-minute sketch. All that being said, it's so goddamn hilarious. Non-stop laughs. Most I've laughed since Red Rocket probably. It's a can't-miss for any Tim Robinson fan and a can't-miss for any fans of laughing. Kate Mara was the perfect foil character. The Wild Robot - 8/10 - Yes, I cried, what of it? Relay - 8/10 - A very solid, tight, throwback to the type of paranoid corporate-thrillers they don’t really make anymore. A super fun twist that I didn’t see coming at all, and a standout turn from Lily James. It slightly loses its way near the end. Good One - 8/10 - Familiar and lowkey, but with a dark edge that slowly reveals itself, and a superb breakout role from Lily Collias. Great debut film from director India Donaldson. A Complete Unknown - 8/10 - There's definitely a lack of plot but at the end of the day we all just want to see Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits performed by a generational talent in Timothee Chalamet and it definitely delivers in that aspect. Midwives - 8/10 - One of the more stressful movies I’ve seen in a while. My anxiety was through the roof, especially in the first half. It’s so realistic and graphic at times (and some of it has to be real, some birth scenes especially) that you almost get a sense that it’s a documentary. Totally nails the landing too, making you feel real anger/empathy about how Midwives are treated in France (and other places I assume). Hellbent On Boogie - 8/10 Alien: Romulus - 8/10 - Put Cailee Spaeny in anything and I'll watch it. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga - 8/10 The Old Oak - 8/10 - British realism cinema at it's finest. Just another classic added to Ken Loach's resume. Longlegs - 8/10 Babygirl - 8/10 One Life - 8/10 - I'm not a huge movie-cryer but I was absolutely balling my eyes out near the "moment". You know it's coming and it's still hit. Impressive when a movie can do that. Last movie that hit me like that was probably Tori and Lokita, and before that Moonlight. This was up there in terms of tears. Did not really expect it going in. Devasting. Anthony Hopkins kills these types of roles, he has a way of showing bottled up regret/sadness that not many others can. The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare - 8/10 - Over-the-top violent fun time. Totally ridiculous but it doesn't take itself seriously and that's what keeps it from veering into. Also, Eiza Gonzalez. That is all. Strange Darling - 8/10 Los Frikis - 8/10 Suncoast - 8/10 Drive-Away Dolls - 8/10 - I want more unapologetically horny movies like this. Loved all of Beanie Feldstein's bits and the slow, sleep-deprived descent into madness of the henchmen especially. Not too sure abou the weird-cheap transitions and trippy scenes though. "You're a day late and a penis short" and "Suki that's your wall dildo!" are two of the funniest lines of the year, within context. Give me more fast-paced 75-minute movies. In A Violent Nature - 8/10 -This made me feel physically nauseous several times, would strongly recommend. Some of the gnarliest kills I've ever seen on the big screen. A Real Pain - 8/10 Abigail- 8/10 - As a French-Canadian, big shoutout to Kevin Durand for his on-point Quebecois accent. Also, "Sammy, those are fucking onions" was one of the best/funniest line deliveries of the year. Really entertaining gory vampire flick. Dan Stevens is straight up having a fun time this year and I'm enjoying it every time. Melissa Barrera is now competing with with Mia Goth and Samara Weaving as top Scream Queens. Deadpool & Wolverine - 8/10 Bring Them Down - 8/10 - I love me a slow-burn family feud drama that slowly snowballs into something dark and sinister. Christopher Abbott is one of my favorite working actors today and he does incredible work here, especially with the accent/Irish/body language. Disclaimer: Not recommended to people sensitive to animal violence/cruelty. There's a lot of that. The Piano Lesson - 8/10 - As far as Denzel Washington-produced, August Wilson adaptations are concerned, this is way above Fences. Felt less like a straight-up filmed play. The supernatural element and amazing Danielle Deadwyler performance (give her an Oscar soon pls) make this more layered and interesting. Bonus: I was sitting with/near the cast/crew for this one, 5-10 feet away from Denzel/Danielle/John David/Malcolm/Corey Hawkins/Ray Fisher/Michael Potts. Amazing experience. Nickel Boys - 8/10 Fresh Kills - 8/10 - A really solid mob-drama told from the perspective of a mob boss' daughter, which I appreciated. It's rare you see this story from that angle. Emily Bader's scene with her dad near the end. Holy. Fucking. Shit. Between The Temples - 8/10 - Carol Kane was absolutely magnetic and a joy to watch in this, and Jason Schwartzman was her perfect endearing counter. Lovely movie, that makes you want to curl up into a ball and cringe to death near to end, in a good way. The most painful-to-watch family reunion/dinner since Shiva Baby. Problemista - 8/10 - I stand with Bank of America. Julio Torres is kind of a revelation in this. His facial expressions (and hilarious run-walk thing) are perfect. Absurd, funny, and sweet comedy with so much flair and uniqueness. Some fun little details that got good laughs out of me, like Tilda's character always having her phone light on. Chaotic in all of the right ways. Sisterhood - 8/10 Days of Happiness - 8/10 The Apprentice - 8/10 - It's not breaking any new ground but Sebastian Stan is a pleasure to watch transform into Trump as the movie goes on. Grimy and gross like the streets of New York in the 80s. Wil - 8/10 Naked Ambition: Bunny Yeager - 8/10 Soul - 8/10 - I didn't get to catch this during it's original run due to COVID so I'm glad it came back. My favorite Pixar movie in a little while. Femme - 8/10 I Saw the TV Glow - 8/10 Heretic - 7/10 - A fun horror with sharp dialogue and an incredibly-hammy Hugh Grant performance. Emilia Perez - 7/10 - Some amazing musical numbers, especially the opener and "El Mal", and Zoe Saldana has an amazing performance where she carries the entire thing (Gomez and Gascon are getting lots of praise but I didn’t see it), but it just felt like it never fully came together to reach full potential. Mountains - 7/10 - A very small and warm movie about the very big and cold issue of gentrification and the real estate crisis in South Florida. Monica Sorelle is a director to watch for sure. Skywalkers: A Love Story - 7/10 - Other than a few moments that seemed a bit scripted (mostly the relationship drama), this is the most thriller documentary since Free Solo. Ghostlight - 7/10 Shoshana - 7/10 - Israeli true-life spy-thriller, a bit Bond-like. There's a few kills in here that are insanely brutal and the explosions/gunshots catch you by surprise. It had me jump a few times. The Dead Don't Hurt - 7/10- Extremely slow, don't go in expecting an action-packed Western, but Viggo has a really good eye for beautiful backgrounds and settings. Vicky Krieps is top-tier as always. This movie doesn't work without her. I like slow Westerns. The Fall Guy - 7/10 Thelma - 7/10 Twisters - 7/10 -Natural disaster flicks just work for me. Getting to look at Daisy Edgar-Jones for 2 hours never hurts as well. Cuckoo - 7/10 - Insanely impressive and physical performance from Hunter Schafer. Cool visual style and flair, but ultimately dragged down by a total clusterfuck of a plot. I was confused throughout. Hilarious German accent from Dan Stevens Peak Season - 7/10 Kneecap - 7/10 - Some of the funniest one-liners of the year ("Look who it is, Bone Thugz and no harmony", "I feel like I discovered the Beatles, if the Beatles were shit."). The whole RRAD storyline kept it from greatness though, that was a bit too goofy for its own good. Wolfs - 7/10 - I went in wanting Pitt/Clooney banter and that's exactly what I got. Blink Twice - 7/10 My Old Ass - 7/10 Better Man - 7/10 Nightbitch - 7/10 - Your mom's favorite movie of 2024. The awful first trailer didn't do it justice, this was solid, it just doesn't get dark like you'd hope it would. Out of Darkness - 7/10 - Saw this during a Mystery Movie Monday and was pleasantly surprised. Pretty brutal, atmospheric, and violent. Some cool overhead shots and a nice score. One of the better Mystery Movies I've seen. We Grown Now - 7/10 The End We Start From - 7/10 Kinds of Kindness - 7/10 - Not the best Yorgos but deliciously-freaky and daring filmmaking nonetheless. Babes - 7/10 Fancy Dance - 7/10 MaXXXine - 7/10 - Definitely the weakest of the trilogy but still a solid slasher with a very interesting setting. Mia Goth has great moments like in the first two. Horizon: An American Saga Chapter 1 - 7/10 - I don't care, the montage at the end was sick. I really hope Costner gets to fund as many of these as he wants. Wicked - 7/10 - Pretty good, not great. Ariana Grande was the standout. There were only 2 songs that were really catchy though, wish there were more. Juror #2 - 7/10 Fly Me to the Moon - 7/10 The End - 7/10 - Gorgeously-shot, super well acted, beautiful set design and production, but way too long and had no reason to be a musical. The songs were all exactly the same and pointless and there much so much time in between that you would forget it was even a musical. George MacKay kills it. Being Maria - 7/10 Cabrini - 7/10 - Maybe a bit overlong but honestly not bad. Surprised it's from the same director as Sound of Freedom, it's quite a step up from that. Much larger and ambitious in scope, and the lead actress was really really great. It solidly panders to its intended audience but it’s well made enough that you can just gloss over the eye-rolling moments. In the Land of Saints and Sinners - 7/10 - The best Neeson action-flick in a while, so that's something. Kerry Condon as the big villain was awesome. Need more of her in stuff. Y2K - 7/10 - The single-funniest death scene of the year was the skateboard scene. Laughed so hard, made my night. Audience really dug this one too, good atmosphere. Fred Durst. The Queen of My Dreams - 7/10 - I was getting massive Deja Vu with The Persian Version last year. Extremely similar story and vibe, equally fun/honest/heartfelt. Speak No Evil - 7/10 Immaculate - 7/10 - Sydney Sweeney stepping out of her comfort zone and doing a nun-horror is cool. Long take near the end was sick. Gladiator II - 7/10 - Doesn't hold a candle to the original but it was still an entertaining sandals & swords story. Fred Hechinger is so awful in this though. Man, that took me out of it. Back to Black - 7/10 - This movie is conflicting. In a vacuum, ignoring Winehouse's actual story, it's a solid music-biopic carried by a powerhouse breakthrough performance from Marisa Abela and an amazing soundtrack (obviously). On the other hand, it's a disgusting whitewash by her estate to downplay her truly awful father. The fact that he had final approval over this movie, and will financially benefit from it, is just gross and hard to ignore. The 2015 documentary does a better job telling Amy's whole story in an emotional way, and that doc made my blood boil (and is one of my favorite docs ever). Coup! - 7/10 The Hypnosis - 7/10 The Last Stop in Yuma County - 7/10 Your Monster - 7/10 Blitz - 7/10 - The cartoonish villains and improbably scenarios the kid kept finding himself in took this down a notch for me. Could've been great, but it didn't quite get there. How much bad shit can happen to one kid in 24 hours? Find out with Blitz. On a technical level it had a lot going for it though. In the Summers - 7/10 Maria - 7/10 - Jolie kills it and it looked gorgeous but a really big step down from Jackie/Spencer for Pablo Larrain, a big 'style over substance' movie and weirdly disrespectful to Jackie Kennedy as well for some odd reason. Very weird structure. Lost Soulz - 7/10 The Girls Are Alright - 7/10 All We Imagine As Light - 7/10 - With all the hype I was expecting to be blown away. It was good but kind of a let down. Girls Will Be Girls - 7/10 Ezra - 7/10 Young Woman and the Sea - 7/10 - An inspiring sports-biopic with a very old-school and authentic feel. The Remember the Titans of swimming movies. It hits all of the cliches and it's super cheesy, but in all of the right ways. It just works. Daisy Ridley was great, and as far as swimming movies are concerned, it's definitely ahead of Nyad. Hundreds of Beavers - 7/10 - It's funny and original, I just wish it was a bit shorter. Some of the bits definitely outstay their welcome after a while. I really like the grassroots campaign they've built around this movie though, everything from the independent theatrical showings to the support of physical media. A great success story for indie film this year. The Idea of You - 7/10 Crossing - 7/10 Sleep - 7/10 Monkey Man - 7/10 - Solid action flick for the first and third acts, but dragged down by a super boring 2nd act (where it loses all of the momentum it built) and lots of sloppy/confusing editing, especially during chase sequences. Credit for the Terrence Malick-like flashback scenes with narration/sweeping music/shots of nature/etc, pretty cool to throw those into an action movie. The Color Purple - 7/10 The Damned - 7/10 - You're hanging out with the soldiers on the frontier of the American Civil War and almost nothing happens for the entire runtime except you learn about the characters and their thoughts on life/god/religion/etc. I enjoyed it. Mean Girls - 7/10 Driving Madelaine - 7/10 Late Night with the Devil - 7/10 Snack Shack - 7/10 - Aside from the needless death at the end that tries too hard to squeeze tears out of your eyeballs, I thought this was a fun, raunchy, summer-y throwback comedy. This would've been one of my favorites in middle school probably. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice - 7/10 Joker: Folie a Deux - 7/10 The Outrun - 7/10 - Less a compelling story and more a showcase on Saoirse Ronan's acting abilities. The camera basically doesn't move from her for a single second and she completely carries it. She's the best. Flow - 7/10 Black Box Diaries - 7/10 Queer - 7/10 The Return - 7/10 New Life - 7/10 - I really respect a movie that can pull off a wild genre-switch halfway through the movie. Went in fully blind so it was totally unexpected. Also impressive this tiny movie could license Bob Dylan’s Like A Rolling Stone (played a few times). Lisa Frankenstein - 7/10 - The ultimate "could've been truly great with a R rating" movie. Bob Marley: One Love - 7/10 - It does just enough to keep it out of the Super Generic Biopic Genre and any movie that can squeeze a few tears out of me gets an extra point. Sorry, that's just the rules. Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes - 7/10 1992- 7/10 - Other than Ray Liotta being written like a ridiculous cartoon villain and some eye-rolling dialogue issues, it actually was a pretty solid crime drama... and Tyrese Gibson was…good? (/r/brandnewsentence) French Girl - 7/10 The Peasants - 7/10 - Visually impressive and a sick score, but a schmaltzy/melodramatic story kinda kept it from the next level. The Monk and the Gun - 7/10 Bad Boys: Ride or Die - 6/10 Seven Blessings - 6/10 Knox Goes Away - 6/10 - Michael Keaton does his best and commits but the writing & performance of every single side character brings the whole thing down a bit. The cop/ex-wife/son characters are bumbling, distractingly-dumb goofballs that keep the plot from ever grounding to reality, but it ultimately gets dark and violent enough to stay pretty entertaining. The script really could've used some more cleaning up. Trap - 6/10 - Listen I have a lot (a lot) of problems with this movie but Kid Cudi randomly showing up for 5 minutes and randomly delivering insane lines like "“I specifically said i wanted honey suckle kombucha biiiiitchhhh” made the trip to the theater worth it. Small Things Like These - 6/10 Sometimes I Think About Dying - 6/10 Kidnapped - 6/10 Asphalt City - 6/10 - Standout performance from Tye Sheridan but this leaned a bit too much into misery porn for my liking. Every single day is the absolute worst day on the job. Extremely stress-inducing first hour. Mike Tyson being cast as the medic chief was certainly a choice...and it worked somehow? Eden - 6/10 - Had trouble getting past the awful accents and the sinking feeling that this was missed potential. I was at the World Premiere for this and someone in the audience had a medical emergency, they had to pause the screening and turn the lights on while the person was carried out on people's shoulders. Jude Law/Sydney Sweeney/Ana de Armas/Ron Howard were all there wondering what was going on. Kind of a crazy situation. Land of Bad - 6/10 Unstoppable - 6/10 Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire - 6/10 - Skull Island's bland and less impressive/memorable little brother. Thumbs up for Baby Kong and the Rio de Janeiro destruction sequence, thumbs down for the lame story and unlimited amounts of annoying human characters. Bad Shabbos - 6/10 Inside Out 2 - 6/10 Firebrand - 6/10 A Different Man - 6/10 - I didn't connect to this as much as most people did. Sebastian Stan is great as usual but the whole thing didn't do much for me. Love Me - 6/10 - 10/10 for the attempt, 4/10 for the execution. There's a really good movie hidden in here somewhere, but there needed to be some cuts made to the animated portions of the film for sure. Shell - 6/10 Housekeeping for Beginners - 6/10 Totem - 6/10 The Fire Inside - 6/10 Widow Clicquot - 6/10 - This starts off really really really slow but then finds its footing late and ends on a solid note. Career-best performance from Haley Bennett, she really carries this. Tuesday - 6/10 Piece by Piece - 6/10 The Cut - 6/10 - Standout turns from Orlando Bloom and Caitriona Balfe, brought down by some weird editing choices. The neon-green hallucinations were a wild choice. I sat next to Katy Perry for this movie, AMA. Memoir of a Snail - 6/10 The Romano Twins - 6/10 Mufasa: The Lion King - 6/10 Film Geek - 6/10 Self-Reliance - 6/10 - Pretty cute movie with a few laughs, but the ending lost its focus and felt rushed. The Andy Samberg bits were great. I wanted more from the relationship with Anna Kendrick's character, feels like there was more to explore there. "This an intervention." "For me?" "No, we're just all facing the wrong direction." Queen of the Ring - 6/10 Coup de Chance - 6/10 - It's nowhere near peak-Woody Allen but it's a passable return to form since Rifkin's Festival, Wonder Wheel, and A Rainy Day In New York (all 3 awful, with Rifkin's Festival being rock bottom for Allen's filmography). The one thing it was missing was humor. I can always trust an Allen film to at least have a few funny/witty lines (even the bad ones), but this was very cut and dry. Could've used a few more good lines. Sasquatch Sunset - 6/10 - I was excited for the premise and there's a few sweet/funny moments, but most of it ends up being mindless shitting/pissing/fucking. Credit for the unique idea and great views. Bird - 6/10 - One of the more disappointing films of the year. Even after the lukewarm reception at Cannes, I had super high hopes because I’m a huge Andrea Arnold fan, but the surrealism in this movie just didn’t work. It threw off the whole balance and wasn’t at all what I expected/wanted. Nikiya Adams and Barry Keoghan were both very solid, and the scene where the group sang Coldplay’s Yellow to the frog was amazing. Omni Loop- 6/10 Here - 6/10 - A valiant attempt but ultimately kind of a hot mess. A few good moments keep it watchable. Some real uncanny valley shit in there too though. Queen Rock Montreal - 6/10 Turning Red - 6/10 Scrambled - 6/10 The Book of Clarence - 6/10 - LaKeith Stanfield was great and committed as usual (although I don't like twin dual-roles), and James McAvoy and Cumberbatch chewing on scenery was fun, this movie had a lot of trouble figuring out what it wanted to be. I really wish it leaned more into the funny/satire and less into the serious Mel Gibson/Jim Caviezel-type biblical drama. Cool that a movie like this can be made/funded and released in theaters though. Booger - 6/10 Irena's Vow - 6/10 - Great story, extremely generic period drama. A Great Divide - 6/10 Riff Raff - 6/10 - A bit outdated and mean-spirited, this would've slapped in 2006, but Bill Murray and Pete Davidson as the incompetent mob assassins makes it worth a watch. Rosalie - 6/10 Skincare - 6/10 Yellow Bus - 6/10 Arcadian - 6/10 - It's fine and stretches its tiny budget so its absolute limit but it's basically a Dollar Store A Quiet Place. The monster design and animation was hilariously-bad though, like an Asylum knock-off movie. I'm also now convinced that Nic Cage is contractually obligated to have his face smothered in fake blood for any movie. Nutcrackers - 6/10 The Invisibles - 6/10 Riley -6/10 Rob Peace - 6/10 - A well-shot movie with great direction and performance from the supporting characters (Mary J Blige and Chiwetel Ejiofor) completely dragged down by an awful lead performance by Jay Will. Also the script was a bit silly, they were trying way too hard to make him 100% infallible. Christmas Eve in Miller's Point - 6/10 - I liked the hectic atmosphere of the crazy Christmas family party that we've all been at, and the very scratchy look of the camera. Rumours - 6/10 - I can appreciate what Maddin was going for, and there's some moments that work (mostly with Cate Blanchett and Charles Dance, they were awesome), but overall surreal-absurd-fantasy-comedy like this just doesn't work for me. Fallen Fruit - 6/10 Birthrite - 6/10 Crumb Catcher - 6/10 Anselm - 6/10 Scapegoat - 6/10 Seeds - 5/10 - There’s clearly heart and maybe a great movie in here somewhere, but it’s such a tonal mess that it’s hard to find anything to love. Sujo - 5/10 The Beekeeper - 5/10 - This is the Rebel Moon of Jason Bourne movies. A few cool kills and classic Statham one-liners keep it from being a total loss, but it's not very good. Unsung Hero - 5/10 Jeanne du Barry- 5/10 Treasure - 5/10 A Sacrifice - 5/10 The American Society of Magical Negroes - 5/10 - All over the place and it gave a constant feeling of "missed opportunity" (a la Book of Clarence). Justice Smith is straight-up not a convincing lead. An-Li Bogan was the standout, and I saw her end twist coming from a mile away so I got that going for me which is nice. La Syndicaliste - 5/10 Sonic the Hedgehog 3 - 5/10 The Watchers - 5/10 Borderlands - 5/10 - Went in expecting a 1/10, got a 5/10. Nice. Life is all about the little wins. Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire - 5/10 - Just give this franchise a permanent rest. It wasn't awful in any particular way, but it was totally soulless and heartless. It felt like nobody really gave a shit except Kumail Nanjiani. Safe, sanitized, studio slop. They couldn't even fully commit to the one interesting thing (the gay ghost love story). National Anthem - 5/10 The 4:30 Movie - 5/10 - Kevin Smith jerking himself off for 80 minutes. Would make a fun double-feature with Snack Shack though. Universal Language - 5/10 - This had a lot of hype of out Cannes and it's Canada's submission for the Oscars so I had a lot of hope, but it just didn't do much for me. Surreal-absurdism just isn't my cup of tea. The only real standout scene was the one with the Quebec democrat. A rare case of the Q&A being more interesting than the movie itself. Kraven the Hunter - 5/10 Time Still Turns the Pages - 5/10 Upgraded - 5/10 - Basically a Great Value The Devil Wears Prada. Good as rom-com-background-nois. Marissa Tomei is awful in this. One of the worst performances of the year. Sound of Hope: The Story of Possum Trot - 5/10 Out of Season - 5/10 Miller's Girl - 5/10 Latin for All - 5/10 Argylle - 5/10 - How a movie like The Creator can be made for $80M but something so awful-looking like this needs $200M blows my mind. I.S.S. - 5/10 - I love a good sandwich-making climax as much as the next guy, but what a painfully awkward ending. The first 25 minutes made me think something decent could be happening then it derails hard and never recovers. The worst thing to happen to the space program since Challenger. Get Away - 5/10 Brothers - 5/10 Life's a Bitch - 5/10 - France's (bad) answer to Yorgos Lanthimos. A dry, twisted, gross, weirdly-sexual, anthology film with a lot less nudity but a lot more dogs than Kinds of Kindness. Kinda loses its way comedically and becomes a chore after the first chapter. Azrael - 5/10 Monster Summer - 5/10 - Like a G-rated IT, with Mel Gibson for some reason (?) Kung Fu Panda 4 - 5/10 Garfield - 5/10 Villains, Inc - 5/10 - It had a certain cheap charm but an overwhelming sense of "SNL Digital Short sketch stretched way too thin". Excursion - 5/10 Sleeping Dogs - 5/10 Notice to Quit - 5/10 - The kid actor was really good but I'm just a bit over following an extremely unlikeable lead around doing shitty things to people. Reunion - 5/10 The Boy in the Woods - 5/10 Paradise - 5/10 Karaoke - 5/10 It Ends With Us - 5/10 Poolman - 4/10 - The ugly, boring, confused lovechild of Inherent Vice and Under the Silver Lake. Avenue of the Giants - 4/10 Arthur the King - 4/10 - Marky Mark has really devolved as an actor honestly, really tough performance from him here. It's like he's completely forgotten how to convincingly deliver lines. Right from the GoPro scenes at the beginning I knew it was gonna be a rough time. This movie is like 85% exposition. Janet Planet - 4/10 - Bookended by 2 great scenes, but filled with mostly pointless garbage. Dandelion - 4/10 By the Stream - 4/10 - I enjoy Hong Sangsoo movies in very small doses. This dose was just way too big. Venom: The Last Dance - 4/10 Red One - 4/10 Oh, Canada - 4/10 - Dreadfully confusing, and Jacob Elordi puts in one of the worst performances of the year, but at least that Phosphorescent soundtrack kept me engaged. Slingshot - 4/10 Adios Buenos Aires - 4/10 Humane - 4/10 Some Other Woman - 4/10 My Daughter, My Love - 4/10 Madame Web - 4/10 - Slop. IF - 4/10 - Not really for adults, not really for kids/teens. Who was this movie even for?... Freud's Last Session - 4/10 Werewolves - 4/10 - So much lens flare. I am now blind. Ramona at Midlife - 4/10 The Last Front - 4/10 My Penguin Friend - 4/10 Augure - 4/10 Which Brings Me To You - 4/10 - Looking back over this ranking, I'm gonna be honest and say I have no idea what this was. Don't remember. To producers out there: please stop making your movie titles random vague sentences. Mai - 4/10 Meanwhile on Earth - 4/10 Lizzie Lazarus - 4/10 Or Something - 4/10 The Way We Speak - 4/10 Cult Killer - 3/10 - Antonio Banderas shows up for like 5 minutes and then nopes the fuck out. Total paycheck movie. The Feeling that the Time for Doing Something Has Passed - 3/10 - There were some funny lines (especially the 9/11 dating profile bit) but this was so painfully dry and slow that I could never really connect. If desert-dry, awkward, deadpan delivery, with an absurd amount of BDSM-sex-stuff thrown in is your thing, you might find a few things to like. I could not. Never Let Go - 3/10 The Throwback - 3/10 The City - 3/10 Rats! - 3/10 - This would've worked well as an edgy Youtube short in 2012. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever - 3/10 He Went That Way - 3/10 - Half roadtrip comedy with a chimp, half brutal serial killer drama. Tonally all over the place. The kind of movie you'd expect Jacob Elordi to try to bury (a la Dicaprio with Don's Plum) and fire his agent over before it sees the light of way. Baffling decisions made by everyone here. Megalopolis - 2/10 - I went in expecting a mess but I was still not prepared for how bad this was. It’s Neil Breen with an unlimited budget. It felt like 6 hours. It looked so cheap and awful. A mix of Lifetime movie and a middle school play. I refuse to believe it’s bad on purpose for comedy. The only thing keeping this from a 1 is that Adam Driver/Coppola/Nathalie Emmanuel/Giancarlo Esposito were at my screening for Q&A (god bless their sweet little souls for having to seriously promote this hot mess). "What do you think of this boner I got right here?” is a line 85 year old Jon Voight actually says in a real movie in the year of our lord 2024. My therapist will hear about this. A Boy Who Dreamt of Electricity - 2/10 Isle of Hope - 2/10 - Sometimes I wonder why I do this to myself. Chosen Family - 1/10 - This was borderline unfinished and full-on embarrassing. The production value of a daytime soap opera mixed in with the sound editing of a local high school play. It's impressive how much filler (drone shots of surrounding neighborhood) can be squeezed into 84 minutes of movie. Sitting a few seats away from Heather Graham was a nice bonus (with Q&A), but it couldn't come close to making up for this disaster. Unranked (Re-Releases and/or TV Series): Dune (Re-Release) - 10/10 Interstellar (Re-Release) - 10/10 Ex Machina (Re-Release) - 9/10 The Shawshank Redemption (Re-Release) - 8/10 Bound (Re-Release) - 8/10 Mr. & Mrs. Smith Episodes 1 & 2 (TV Series) - 7/10 Possession (Re-Release) - 7/10 But I'm A Cheerleader (Re-Release) - 7/10 The Acolyte Episodes 1 & 2 (TV Series) - 6/10 Society (Re-Release) - 6/10 Black Christmas (Re-Release) - 6/10 Apples Never Fall Episode 1 (TV Series) - 6/10 Maniac Cop 2 (Re-Release- 6/10 The Room (Re-Release) - 5/10 Cruel Intentions Episode 1 (TV Series) - 5/10 La Maquina Episode 1 (TV Series) - 4/10 After Annecy (Short Film) - 3/10 Maniac (Re-Release) - 3/10 Mother (Re-Release) - 3/10 Stats: Multiple Viewings: Dune: Part Two (x2) Babes (x2) Deadpool & Wolverine (x2) Sing Sing (x2) Back to Black (x2) The Wild Robot (x2) Anora (x2) Theater Distribution by Venue/Chain: AMC - 96 Regal - 66 Silverspot - 18 Cinemark - 8 Landmark - 1 Other/Festival/Independent - 109 (Including: Arsht Center, Autonation IMAX, Cinema Paradiso, Classic Gateway, Coastal Creative, Coral Gables Art Cinema, Enzian Theater, Hard Rock Ballroom, Koubek Center, TIFF Lightbox, Lucas Theater, Miami Theater Center, Movies of Delray, O'Cinema South Beach, Princess of Wales, Roy Thomson Hall, Royal Alexandra, Savor Cinema, SCAD Museum, Scotiabank, Tampa Theater, Trustees Theater) Film Festivals Attended: Toronto International Film Festival - 30 Movies in 8 Days Savannah SCAD Film Festival - 20 Movies in 8 Days Miami Film Festival - 20 Movies and 1 TV Series in 10 Days Florida Film Festival - 19 Movies in 6 Days Miami Jewish Film Festival - 10 Movies in 7 Days Popcorn Frights Film Festival - 7 Movies in 4 Days Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival - 6 Movies in 4 Days Gasparilla International Film Fstival - 5 Movies in 2 Days Theater Visits by Month: https://i.imgur.com/sKQYFp9.png January: 32 February: 17 March: 27 April: 54 May: 18 June: 18 July: 12 August: 24 September: 38 October: 23 November: 22 December: 13 Theater Visits by Day of the Week: https://i.imgur.com/xC7pt1S.png Monday - 25 Tuesday - 23 Wednesday - 23 Thursday - 49 Friday - 64 Saturday - 67 Sunday - 47 Notable Missed Movies: https://i.imgur.com/iPhOD5s.png Cast/Crew/Filmmaker Q&As/Appearances: Part 1 - https://i.imgur.com/a6JsfR0.png Part 2 - https://i.imgur.com/YQIJZUl.png Part 3 - https://i.imgur.com/9cyEkKY.png Favorite Performances: https://i.imgur.com/Sfv5OZB.png Past Rankings: 2018 (162 Movies) 2019 (192 Movies) 2020 (44 Movies) 2021 (86 Movies) 2022 (270 Movies) 2023 (325 Movies) submitted by /u/BunyipPouch to r/movies [link] [comments]

Dr Daniel Vance was a smart man. Too smart for his own good, maybe. Forty years old, a lecturer in fluid dynamics with a mind made of shapes and numbers. No one knows why but one day, on a whim, he crunched the numbers on the apocalypse and came to a troubling conclusion. He didn’t share exactly what it was he’d deduced, but given that he immediately quit his job and liquidated his many assets, it’s fair to say it wasn’t positive. Swept up in the wake of this tremendous upheaval was his wife, a twenty-four year old PhD student who had grown infatuated with Daniel some time before. She loved the strange bear of a man who could just as easily build a log cabin as he could explain the idiosyncrasies of an asteroid’s orbit. Speaking to Daniel always left you with the profound impression he was right, so when he told her what he wanted to do, she agreed. Fifteen years and five children later, the Vances were living in the distant woods just beyond my hometown. They were enigmatic, richer than the Pope, and extremely serious about their prepper lifestyle. But they were also funny, easygoing, and incredibly compelling to speak to. Larger than life survivalists who swept into town with bizarre requests that thrilled local businesses. Vast quantities of cement, iron, lead, and steel were all shipped through the remote mountains so that the Vances could build their shelter. The advanced methods they used to keep it secret were legendary. Daniel had once spent six months earning the licence necessary to drive HGVs up to his compound so that no one else would lay eyes on it. And on one occasion when a company had refused his request for GPS tracker-free vehicles, he bought them out wholesale so that they had no choice. So when they stopped appearing in town during the pandemic, when requests for food and goods stopped and all contact was dropped, most attributed it to lockdown. They had a bunker and had spent their entire lives training to be self-sufficient in the face of civilisation’s collapse. Even Alexander, the youngest at just three, was already collecting firewood as a chore, and learning what local plants were edible. Most of us just assumed that if anyone could ride out Covid without breaking a sweat, it would be the Vances. The reality turned out to be something else. When the worst came to light, we discovered that Daniel had used the pandemic as an excuse for a dry-run. The family intended to spend six months in lockdown and essentially beta test their fallout bunker. Three months in and the Sheriff received a distress call on the radio. Coordinates were provided by the hushed voice of a sobbing child that most assume was Alexander, even though that’s never been proven. The police arrived and found the bunker still sealed. It took hours for emergency responders to cut into the door, all the while efforts were made to contact the family within but to no avail. Once inside, police were left dumbfounded. There was no one to be rescued. No bodies. No survivors. There was evidence the door’s locking mechanism had failed and trapped the Vances inside with no way out, but if so where had they gone? Beds and cots lay everywhere with mouldering yellow sheets, buckets close to hand with stains all around them. Some doors were barred, others smashed to pieces. There was even evidence of makeshift quarantines and, in places, what looked like violence. The police, usually a fantastic source of gossip, were not forthcoming until the town demanded answers and the Sheriff was forced to offer only the barest of outlines. An outbreak of a waterborne illness had struck the Vances down not long after they were locked inside and unable to seek help. Rumours of contagion were overstated, fuelled by the unrelated rise of Covid. Whatever contaminant had killed the Vances, it was non-organic in nature. No need to panic. The Vances loved-ones had been notified. The bunker was going to be demolished, and we could all put this terrible tragedy behind us. Of course we still had questions. A thousand of them. Why hadn’t the family called for help? They had radios, computers, smartphones too. They were survivalists, not Amish. And where were they? What had happened to their bodies? Why hadn’t they simply left? We shouted these and more at the town meeting but the police simply refused to comment. For most of us the excitement lasted another week or two until we realised we weren’t getting answers any time soon. Besides, the pandemic was in full swing and most of us had other things to worry about. The tragic story eventually faded until it was just one of those awful things in the town’s history that we didn’t talk about. I was as guilty as anyone else of just forgetting about it. I certainly never expected to find the bunker out there in the woods, faded police tape still on the open door that hung wide open with scorch marks around the lock. It stood out in the woods like someone had cut a hole right in the fabric of reality, the darkness so deep and black it almost ached to look at. The sight of it made my heart drop into my stomach. It radiated pain. Does that make sense? I think some part of my lizard brain picked out details that wouldn’t become apparent to me until I got closer, like the bloody finger streaks that stained the handle from where someone had scrabbled furiously at the lock without success. And the tiny viewing window had been smashed with a hammer that still lay nearby. I needed only to glimpse it to imagine the family taking turns to stand there and scream into the woods desperate for rescue. Under any other circumstances, I would have run. But I’d gone there looking for my dog, and my light revealed a few wet paw prints making their way down the dusty concrete tunnel. Half Bernese and half collie, Ripley is the sort of dog who trembles in my arms when a storm buffets the windows and needs his paws held when we brush him. I love him. I do not have much of a family, or a wife, or even many friends. But I have Ripley, and I could no more have turned around and gone home to an empty apartment where I would have to sob my grief away than I could flap my arms and fly. He was my dog and I’d raised him since he was a puppy, and I wasn’t going to leave him out in those woods. I went in after him. I didn’t know what to expect, but I knew it wouldn’t be good. Whatever the police had found, they’d not only kept most of the morbid details to themselves, they had also lied. The bunker was not demolished, or even sealed off. In fact, looking at the occasional blue latex glove tossed aside and the one or two broken police-issue flashlights, it seemed like the last people inside had been in a hurry to get out. Given this was where seven people had presumably died, I assumed it was someone’s job to clean it all up. But the corridor looked largely untouched. Just a few metres in and manic writing started to cover the walls, the desperate scrawls of a lone survivor left there to be rediscovered like cave paintings. Most were deliberations on how to get out. Diagrams. Blueprints. Equations and formulae. All focused on the door and the circuits responsible for its faulty lock. I instinctively assumed they belonged to Daniel and that he’d been the last to die. What a God awful fate for a man to outlive his children. And yet it got worse. Slowly the writing changed from equations and plans to a desperate scrawl. The same few phrases repeated over and over. Five doors. Five. Not six. Six. Didn’t make it. Didn’t make it. Six doors. Six. It seemed like the kind of thing you’d find in an asylum. A psychotic rambling punctuated only by six paragraphs right at the end. Each letter was impeccably neat, and each small paragraph was topped with a beautifully drawn Christian cross. Elliott Vance aged fifteen. A gifted guitarist. He liked boys even though he thought I did not know. I loved him with everything I had. He would have made a great man. Alicia Vance aged fourteen. She liked to paint and to shoot. She had her mother’s mean streak. It would have served her well in the future. Elijah Vance aged eight. The smartest of us all… These were Daniel’s memorials to his family, and seeing the words lit up by my torch was a haunting insight into the overwhelming despair he’d endured. He must have realised he wouldn’t get the chance to speak at his family’s funerals or to write their obituaries. This was his last desperate way of making sure the world might one day know them as he did - as real people. The words marked the end of the tunnel, standing adjacent to a trapdoor in the ground. It was not open but the tunnel came to a dead end immediately afterwards and Ripley’s prints disappeared at the hatch. I feared he might be in danger, but still I stopped and looked at the bunker door twenty metres behind me. The once gloomy forest looked so bright, even on this cloudy day, the air dotted with rain. A part of me felt like I was leaving the whole world behind as I began to climb the ladder down. I entered a large circular living space that was packed with furniture and little nooks and crannies. The walls were covered with folding beds and tables and every inch was multifunctional. A dining space could become a sitting space, which in turn might be where someone slept, or even exercised. It all depended on what particular bit of furniture you unfolded or unclipped or unfurled. Seven people in close quarters, nowhere near enough privacy, it made sense they went with this cluttered overlapping use of space. But it was still a large room, bigger than most studio apartments. And there were a few corridors that led deeper into the Earth telling me the bunker had unseen depths. I looked for some sign of my dog and soon found his trail, but this far from the rainy copse Ripley’s prints were starting to fade. After barely a few metres they petered out vaguely in the direction of a nearby door. I wanted to follow but stopped myself from rushing onwards. It was unlikely Ripley was getting out any other way, and I’d do us no good getting hurt myself. I decided to take a look around and quickly spotted a dinner table. If I needed proof the police had not bothered with a clean up, this was it. The plates were still out, the food rotten to a strange blackened husk. A child’s hat lay across one place-setting, the once-creamy fleece turned a sickly green and yellow. The chairs had their backs reinforced with wooden beams fitted with long grooves so that something the width of a nail could slide into them. And on each of the cushions were foul smelling stains that looked oddly like an ass print. I touched one with gloved hands and the material crackled audibly. Whatever it was, similar stains were on the cutlery and plates, and there were even handprints of it placed firmly on the tablecloth. At first I thought it was blood, but that wasn’t quite right. It was too contained to be from leaking blood. On the back of one of the chairs a stain tapered exactly where a woman’s waist would be like a near perfect silhouette. I shivered as I remembered that Miranda Vance had always been a slim woman and wondered how she had left her imprint on the grey fabric. Using my torch, I saw that these stains repeated in the oddest of places. Yes, there were some on beds and blankets and even patches of plain floor exactly like you might expect in a room full of sick people. But why did one stain on the floor bear such a strong resemblance to a child huddled in the foetal position? And why was the same stuff all over the tv remote, and on books on shelves, and board games too. Everything from sofa cushions to DVD boxes to piles of dirty laundry were covered in the same dried brownish material that gave off a foul coppery miasma. I found the jigsaw particularly baffling. Someone had set up another table with four chairs, all modified with the same back support as those by the dinner table. And a jigsaw had been lain out with four separate piles, but only one was depleted. The rest looked largely untouched, almost like someone had portioned out pieces for three other people who had absolutely no interest in going along with it. Maybe Daniel had tried to keep up morale while the family were sick? God help me, if that were true I couldn’t help but imagine the poor man sat there with his loved ones close to death, desperately trying to encourage them to click their own pieces into place while they faded in and out of consciousness. Something about that room emanated madness, and the longer I stayed down there flicking the bright disk of light of my torch from one detail to another, the more I wanted to leave. One door had wooden beams nailed across it. One sofa had been partially disassembled. Multiple beds had been burned. And all the light bulbs had been removed and put in a box on the kitchen counter top. Looking up at the ceiling, I finally had some insight into why the police were so confident the Vances had not survived despite never finding their bodies. Someone had jammed a human finger into one of the empty sockets, almost like they’d expected it to glow with the flick of a switch. What was it about this place that had caused the police to leave and never return? Not to even take that finger and test it for signs of illness, or even just to confirm who it belonged to? I decided it was time to hurry up and find my dog. People had died in that place, and while I’m not superstitious, I can’t be the only sceptic who has done the calculations in his head and realised it costs nothing to be respectful of ghosts. That bunker was cramped, terrifying, and the air stank so bad I started to worry I’d get sick myself. It served no one any good to linger. But I’d be damned if I’d just walk away and leave Ripley to rot down there. It’s not like he could climb a ladder and get out on his own (even if I wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gotten down there in the first place). Summoning what little bravery I had left I called out and broke the silence, something which felt like a terrible taboo in that God awful place, like screaming in a graveyard. “Ripley!” I waited and hoped to hell I’d hear the pitter patter of his paws, but for the longest of moments there was only the kind of silence that makes you wonder if someone or something in the darkness is holding its breath trying to look like just another patch of nothing. Biding its time until you finally turn around and show it your back… The TV came on with a blurt of white noise that was so loud and so sudden I cried, threw my arms up, and nearly fell backwards onto a rolled-out sleeping bag that looked like it had spent a week in the sewer. By the time I realised what had caused the noise, I could already hear a tinny rendition of Daniel Vance’s voice. …I realise the issue here. I need to emphasise just how little I understand anything that’s… I frowned at the screen as I approached. It showed a greenish infrared view of the bunker with Daniel upfront, and the dinner table behind him. It was grainy and hard to see, but I could clearly tell that his family were sitting in those chairs. …Miranda was first to fall ill. Looking back it makes perfect sense. Miranda often went into storage to fetch food for cooking and we found it behind one of the refrigerators. So that’s–ah shit.. One of the figures in the background slumped onto the table with a loud clank and sent a plate spinning off onto the ground. Shit shit shit, Daniel muttered as he got up and grabbed the woman by the shoulders and sat her upright. Miranda never did like my cooking! He snorted a laugh as he fussed with something at the back of the chair. The rods are much better than tape. All those hours spent taping them upright to the chairs. Never worked. But the rods… they fit right into the spine and with a little modification I can just slot them into the chairs. That way everyone is able to join in for dinner. I’m working on something similar for family game night. Daniel wandered over to the camera and with a grin he lifted it from the tripod and scanned the dinner table. What I saw nearly made me drop my torch. His family were long dead. Gaunt faces. Missing noses. Lips that had receded to reveal awful grins. These were corpses, plain as day, even when viewed through such a low resolution image. The only thing that made them seem remotely alive was the way their eyes still reflected the infrared back so that they glowed in the dark. And yet Daniel seemed oblivious to it all. He tousled Elliot’s hair. Kissed his wife on the cheek. Run a hand across one young girl’s shoulder. He even picked the young Alexander up from his high chair and I assume he coddled him. I don’t know for sure because I looked away, unwilling to see the poor boy up close. Eyes averted from the screen, I couldn’t help but pan my torch across to that same dinner table and shiver as I finally realised what all those stains were. Not quite blood. But close. Liquefying flesh. Left alone for months, Daniel had not put his family’s bodies to rest. Instead he had moved them around from place to place and puppeted them, living life as if nothing had really changed. Looking at where those stains had settled I saw a clear pattern emerge. He had put them to bed. He had set them dinner. He had propped them up to watch TV, or gave them their favourite books. They even sat there as lifeless husks while Daniel waited for them complete a fucking jigsaw. The idea horrified me to my core. …back to work. It’s obviously not part of the original designs. No room on the other side, not on the blueprints. Elliot didn’t believe me and why would he? I made every inch of this place, but I did not install that door in storage on the bottom level. I checked the cameras and some of the photos I took during the build and the wall is just blank. But the door is there now and it must lead somewhere. I don’t know when or why it opens, but it does and the next time I’ll be ready. Because I have to know what’s on the other side, and why it did this to us. Alone down here, often all asleep at once. Anything could have slit our throats and been done with it. But it didn’t. It took its time and I have to know why! It took our radios and computers and phones. One by one. None of us noticing until it was far too late. I kept telling the kids they needed to take better care of their things, and even as they complained I just assumed the phones were lying behind some shelf. Where else could they go in a locked bunker? But it wasn’t the children at all. Looking back there are so many signs… who kept taking away the lights? Who kept draining the batteries in our torches? How long did we live with it before we finally realised we weren’t alone? Was it here every step of the way? A door out of nothing that leads to nowhere, at least most of the time. Because I know for a fact it does not always open onto a blank wall. There is something behind it. I can hear it shuffling around in there, wet breath rattling in its lungs, a horrible sound I hear roaming these halls when it thinks I’m asleep… I listened to Daniel, fascinated by this strangely compelling rant, when movement caught my eye. An infrared camera running in the dark, its image a roiling mess of uniform noise. What was it I’d seen? I paused the tape and rewound. Squinting, I saw two pinpricks of light in the darkness just over Daniel’s shoulder. Slowly, the image resolved itself in my mind. I knew what I was seeing and it turned my blood to ice. Miranda Vance had turned her head, and her lifeless eyes glowed as she fixed them on the back of Daniel’s head. …not even any point leaving at this stage. I’m no doctor, but that door is giving off enough radiation to… well, to kill a family of seven. If none of us had touched it… Being in the same room is risky, but not lethal. But given how sick we’ve become, it’s pretty obvious our curiosity got the better of us, one by one, and we all got too close. Or maybe not. Maybe that thing on the other side came through and did this. I don’t even kn… wait… what was that? Daniel turned and the camera stopped recording. The image it froze on was of a lone man, bright as a star in the camera’s lens, facing off against unknowable darkness broken only by six pairs of white, glowing eyes. I became painfully aware of my position relative to the table and I had the painful premonition that if I turned, those chairs would not be empty. I would see the Vances, all of them, Daniel as well, waiting for me. Heads turned. Bodies left to rot for years in the dark. Behind me something shifted. It breathed. Loud. Quick. I knew what it was. I knew. It came at me so fast that when I felt something hot and wet touch my hand I screamed, only for the presence to suddenly recoil. But then, without hesitation, it leapt at me and bore me to the ground. I wept as Ripley licked my face. He was shivering and, worst of all, silent which was not normal. He was not a quiet dog, not when greeting me and not when excited like he was now. But whatever he’d seen down here, he clung to me and dug his paws into my shoulders like he wanted to be cradled over the shoulder, something he has been too big to do for years. “Oh you fucking idiot,” I cooed in a soft whisper and even in the dark I could feel his tail wagging. Joking aside, I felt nothing but relief at finding him. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” I picked him up, straining a little under the weight but refusing to give into tired muscles, and made for the ladder. It wasn’t easy climbing the three or four rungs to the hatch, but I managed it and gave the hatch a shove. First one hand, then two. Again and again, with everything I had, but still that hatch refused to budge. “Shit!” I cried while pounding at it with my fists, but all I achieved was a sore wrist. The hatch had jammed when, somehow, the handle had been snapped clean off. Now I’d need a pair of pliers or something to cut through the metal bar locking it shut. My fingers couldn’t move it, nor could I brute force the hatch open. The metal bar was an inch thick and, at the very least, I’d need some tools to get at it from this side. At least it’s fixable, I thought as I climbed back down and caught my breath. On one wall I noticed a simple diagram of the bunker made in chalk. It had three floors. The bottom was storage–Daniel had mentioned that before, and I noticed that he had drawn through it with a large red X–and the top floor was labelled Quarters, where I stood now. But the middle floor was labelled workshops and it was there I realised that I’d find what I needed. There was one door that opened onto a concrete stairwell and, standing at the top, I shone my light down the spiralling guard rails unsure of what it was I hoped to see. There were only harsh shadows and the sense of something foul rising up on the air. A smell that tickled my throat and burned a little in my lungs. Had the police even gone down this far? Had they seen what I’d seen on that TV and just left? Somehow I thought it was unlikely that had been enough to send the entire Sheriff’s department running, so was it something else that had done it. Something that had been enough to terrify dozens of armed men. Something that was almost definitely down there. The door… I went down quietly. At first I considered leaving Ripley behind, but after losing him the first time I decided I’d rather risk it just to know that he was right next to me. Besides, he was being quieter than I was, and I didn’t feel much like going down those stairs on my own. He accompanied me with only the quiet click clack of his paws on concrete, a sound I found deeply comforting as I barely managed to keep my torch from shaking in my hand and my breathing steady. Down one floor and I found the workshop exactly as you might expect. A large space filled with generators and fuel and water tanks and boilers and heaters and pretty much anything and everything that you’d need to survive but which you couldn’t put outside due to fallout. Wires pipes and tubes ran from one end of the room to the other and even years later, most of the machinery still hummed in the pitch black emptiness, an idea I found deeply unsettling. Taking one look at that strange tangle of harsh shapes and industrial figures looming out of the walls and floor, I shivered and looked around, quickly finding a small area Daniel had cordoned off for his own use. About a fifth of the total floor space, there was a large workbench and some seriously high end machining equipment, all very well used. Lathes. Buzzsaws. Drills. Belt sanders. Welding torches. Everything a man needed to do-it-himself. And Daniel had been busy. I’m not sure exactly what it was he’d been working, but there was an arm on the bench. It sat atop a pile of papers that had slowly turned brown over the years until the whole thing looked like it had been soaked in tobacco spit. On the whiteboard was a faded but still visible diagram of what looked to me like a ball-and-socket joint. I thought of the tape, of Daniel’s little mechanism to keep his family upright, and then looked at the arm and suppressed a momentary gag reflex. I don’t know if Dan had been working on posable limbs, or just a way to put the decomposing remains back together after they’d started to fall apart, but the size of the arm suggested a pre-teen child, and he’d left it out on the surface like it was a disassembled clock. It was also missing a finger. Just how fucking crazy was he? I wondered as I pinched my nose with one hand and began overturning boxes looking for a hefty pair of pliers, or maybe a hacksaw. Ripley backed away from the noise, but once I made sure he wasn’t going anywhere I carried on grabbing and pulling at box after box hoping I’d find what I was looking for. Anything to break that fucking metal bar. In the end I managed to get a pair of bolt cutters, a crowbar, and a heavy duty pair of pliers. One went in my pocket, one went down the back of my jeans, and the other was clutched in my fist, too large to be tucked away in my clothes. The bolt cutters felt hefty in my hand which was a bit of comfort, but that feeling didn’t last long. Something moved in the darkness, out there in the twisted jungle of shadows cast by all those pipes and wires that ran from one machine to the next. A figure moved. Thin, but unmistakably human in its outline. I couldn’t help but remember what I’d seen on that tape. Surely it couldn’t have been real? Maybe Daniel had rigged something up. Some fishing wire and a motor, maybe? The idea that those bodies had been moving on their own… I couldn’t be sure of that, could I? It was a frightening idea, one my mind had latched onto out of sheer panic. That was all… And then I saw them. A pair of white pin-pricks reflecting back at me from the depths of that cluttered room. Ripley, already behind me, head nuzzled into my leg, pushed even closer against me and let out a barely audible whine under his breath. The behaviour of a dog who was terrified, close to pissing himself with fear. Just a bit of metal, I told myself as the light shook so violently in my hand I struggled to see straight. Just two shiny bits of metal… They blinked and began to come towards me. If I had any doubts left, they were dispersed by the sight of a pale white hand emerging into the light. I ran straight to the stairs and went to climb them, but only one or two steps in and I saw something gripping the handrail on the top floor. A mouldy clump of flesh only just recognisable as a fist, the flesh withered until the fingers were basically bone. Without meaning to, I brought my light up out of habit and I saw the bloated face of a hairless corpse glaring down at me. I couldn’t even tell you if it had been a teenage girl or the sixty-year-old Daniel, either way I instinctively turned and found another body shambling towards me out of the workshop. I was trapped. Nowhere to go. By the feel of warm fluid on the back of my leg I could tell Ripley had finally pissed himself. An adult dog, tail between his legs, shivering like a puppy and desperate to be picked up. God I needed him to just stay together for a little longer. I couldn’t take him in my arms, but I couldn’t leave him behind either… With nowhere to go I ran down and entered storage. There was the temptation to stop once I hit the bottom. Down here the air was thicker and the sounds of my breathing were muted, somehow distant. But I only had to look back up to see three pairs of eyes glaring down at me, so without giving any of it much further thought I barreled down the corridor and stumbled onto a door at random. Opening it, I saw what looked like your standard storage room, only most of the shelves had been overturned and the food left to rot on the floor. One or two shelving units were still upright though, and their shelves were covered in tall opaque boxes that made them a fantastic hiding spot. That, I decided, would have to be where I crouched down and turned off my light. I was already inside when I realised that wasn’t all that was in there… The door almost looked normal. I could see why Daniel must have been confused by it because it looked a little bit like all the other doors down there, but it was different too. It was too tall and too wide, about a foot and a half off the ground, and the metal rusted in its entirety like it had aged out of sync with everything else down there. All around the jamb was a profusion of wet soppy moss like the kind you find hanging off trees in a swamp, and every few seconds the door would leak something strange and oily, like the kind of thing you find in a parking lot on a rainy day. Of course that wasn’t too strange in itself, but the leak was horizontal, defying gravity so that every few seconds a large glob of the stuff would whip across the room and slap into the wall opposite creating a puddle about the size of a man that defied all reason. Remembering Daniel’s words about radiation, I instinctively inched away from this puddle and the door on the opposite wall, backing myself into the darkest quietest corner I could while I pulled Ripley behind me and hoped to hell he wouldn’t give me away. Once I was in there I turned off my light and waited. I must have taken longer than I’d thought to hide spot because it was barely two seconds later when a few figures entered the room. It was pitch black after I’d turned off my torch, but they made enough noise to let me know that at least two of them had stumbled in after me. I stayed there, unable to see anything, not sure if they were heading straight for me or just getting ready to leave, forced to hold out and let luck decide my fate. When I finally heard something scrape against the wall barely two feet from where I stood, I gave up and switched my light on, desperate to know what was coming for me. The sound had been terribly misleading. Daniel Vance was no more than six inches from my face. “Get out,” he hissed from a toothless and cracked mouth. A living corpse just like the others, somehow a flash of intelligence remained in those wide, terrified eyes. And then I heard it. The creaking of a door. And without even thinking I turned the light and saw it on the wall. I saw it open, and behind the strange steel there was more than just plain old concrete. Much more. I saw a raging gullet of flesh. A ringed tube of pulsing muscle lined with teeth the size of hands. A spiralling descent into madness. Hot foetid air washed into the room, buffeting me and the rotting corpses, all of us paralysed by what we were seeing, even if for most of the figures beside Daniel and myself, they didn’t have eyes to see with. “What the fuck…?” I muttered, unable to take my eyes from the flesh tube beyond that doorway. “It’s coming,” Daniel whispered as he grabbed me with one fist and hurled me out of the room. I hit the floor and skidded along a slick fluid left by the Vance’s footprints, the smell of which turned my stomach. Perhaps the worst detail was that it was cold. I don’t know why, I’d just expected whatever oozed them off them to be feverishly hot. But it wasn’t. It soaked my shirt like I’d fallen into a muddy puddle. “It’s coming.” This voice wasn’t Daniel’s. I couldn’t say for sure, but it sounded like a child’s whisper. One by one the bodies shuffled over to the open door and knelt before it. I don’t know why but I got the impression the others had lost pretty much everything left of their minds, but Daniel remained aware. He looked back at me once more and spoke before he pressed his head to the floor in supplication with the others. “The only thing we did wrong was being here for it to torture. It didn’t need a reason, just an opportunity. Leave. It won’t let us go. It won’t even let us die. And if it catches you, it won’t let you go either.” His forehead kissed the dirt. And then something reached through the door and gripped his head in its palm the way you or I might pick up an apple. In full panic, I ran over and grabbed my dog and the bolt cutters and I ran like my legs were pistons, machines whose signals of exhaustion and fatigue could not slow me down, or cause me to fall. I had to move. I had to leave. The hand that had grabbed Daniel… the sight of it flushed my mind clean like some kind of enema. It hurt to see the image replay in my mind but there was nothing else in my head echoing around except the sight of fingers with one too many knuckles, and nails as large as a smartphone. I reached the top floor and nearly collapsed from breathlessness, but I wouldn’t let myself stay down for long. I crawled over to the ladder and climbed up and immediately went to work trying to cut the metal lock. It was hell with just one hand, the other clinging to the torch that I kept frantically pointing at the door behind me, and it wasn’t long before I fumbled one too many times and dropped my only source of light. “No no no no…” I mewed. But there was no time to look for it. I had to get out and I had to get out fast! I couldn’t see but I was sure I could hear something climbing up those stairs. Not the steady thump thump of human feet. No this was different. This was a rapid pitter patter of a spider, maybe. Something with hundreds of feet or hands, or God knows what, skittering along the floor and walls and ceiling, pulling itself along with a body whose mere shape would offend God. Using all my strength I leaned hard on the bolt cutters and, at last, the bolt gave. I threw the hatch open and got just enough ambient light to see Ripley hovering at the bottom of the ladder, growling ineffectually at the doorway. I crouched down, scooped him up, and fled up the ladder so quickly that my muscles turned to jelly at the top and I fell over onto hands and knees. But still, I was out. The long corridor covered in writing was ahead of me, and at the very end a doorway capped now by the tired blue light of a full moon. Ripley needed no encouragement. He whipped down the corridor with canine speed and I followed at a broken and stumbling crawl, eventually shouldering past the open door and collapsing onto the forest floor. For a few seconds I drifted in and out of consciousness, but when I looked up and saw the canopy overhead moving–the branches backlit by a full moon–I snapped awake and glared down at something gripping my ankle. The hand had reached out of the dark and seized me and was slowly dragging me back into the Earth below. Whatever it was, most of its body lurked out of sight in the shadows behind the doorway, but the hand that crushed my leg was the size of my torso with an arm that looked like it belonged to a mole rat. I struck it with my own fist. I dug my nails in. I cried and kicked and screamed, but nothing could stop it. From behind the door, something like a face grinned and leered at me with joy. It was taking its time, sure enough, pulling me in so slowly that it gave my mind all the time in the world to appreciate the nightmare that awaited me. I think if, in that moment, you’d given me a gun, I would’ve shot myself because God help me I couldn’t escape the look in Daniel’s eyes, how he’d knelt to worship this thing like a man who knew that hope or pride or joy or anything with even a hint of goodness to it was so far out of reach for him it might as well be a dream. How long was this thing going to keep them down there? How long did it intend to keep me!? I wept like a child, feeling like my mind was slowly cracking as I tried everything to stop that fucking pulling me into the shadows. I kicked at the earth. I dug into it using my hands looking for a root or a pipe or anything to hold onto. Nothing, nothing, I did would slow it down. I was no more than a foot from the doorway when Ripley reappeared. A dog afraid of hoovers and plastic bags and doors that move on their own. A dog who once got stared down by a particularly feisty rabbit who stopped mid chase and turned around, baffling the predator on its tail. A dog you couldn’t even watch scary movies around… And he lunged at that arm like he was a wolf, like he’d always been one. And while he didn’t quite break the skin, the pressure was enough to make the thing’s grip weaken and I slid my leg out. Unable to stand, I knelt and grabbed the dog and pulled as hard as I could and now that fucking thing bled at last as the pressure of the jaws and the sliding teeth ripped into its flesh. Together, at last, Ripley and I were let go and sent rolling backwards head over hells. I wasted no time waiting or looking or processing. I heaved the dog to my chest and crawled until I passed out, making it maybe half a kilometre away. Only when I could no longer see the door did I let myself fall to the ground face first and gave up consciousness. - The doctors said I had pneumonia, which I suppose made some kind of sense. I might have even believed them were it not for the Sheriff’s visit, asking strange questions of me as I lay in bed about what I may or may not have seen. I dismissed them to the best of my ability. I wasn’t interested in chasing that particular nightmare down, figuring out if it had been real or not, at least not while I lay there half-drowning in my own infection. To be fair, I had at least some sympathy for why the police had done so little to seal that place off. I have, on occasion, thought about going and doing the job myself, but to this day I still have nightmares about being pulled into the dark beyond that door. Not just the bunker door, the one I narrowly avoided at the end, but the one below. What I saw was a kind of madness, I’m sure of it, and I often think of Daniel’s words. It didn’t need a reason, just an opportunity. Somehow, the Vances were that opportunity. Maybe they built their bunker on a leyline, or a weak spot between dimensions, or the site of former Satanic rituals. I’m not sure it even matters. They went into the dark thinking it’d be a safe place to wait out the world’s troubles, but something had been down there waiting for them, waiting for a chance to get at a family of seven people, to lock them in and deprive them of escape and slowly take from them everything it could. I’ve moved since then. Couldn’t help it. It wasn’t just the memories you see. It was the short-wave radio I kept in my basement. Something my father passed onto me when I was just a boy. God I’d forgotten about it… at least until I woke up one day to the sound of it blaring white noise down in the dark. And buried in that sound was the faint whispering of a man, his voice barely recognisable, but unmistakably his. …let them go let them go let them go let them go let them go let them go… submitted by /u/ChristianWallis to r/nosleep [link] [comments]

I am NOT OP. Original post by u/motherinpaws in r/JUSTNOMIL Kicked MIL out of the house for putting my career in jeopardy. (2 Oct 2017, recovered via unddit) I created this throwaway because I cannot tell ANYONE else about this crazy bitch's actions without putting my own career at risk. You guys, I need to vent. I am still shaking with anger as this only happened a few hours ago. MIL is from a small town in the American south and she has all those gossipy small town tendencies. It has never been a problem for us (me & DH) before because we live in Major City clear across the country from her. Aside from her usurping dinner conversations during visits to catch us up on the scandalous comings and goings of people in her congregation, we didn't really have to deal with this side her of her too much....until today. I am a family law attorney with a boutique firm. My specialty is divorces. I'll admit, on a day-to-day basis my drama llama is clinically obese with all the feed I get from work, but when I have some downtime I still lurk this sub reddit because I just love the the theatrics on here. Sure, divorces are entertaining sometimes but the stuff on here gives Shonda Rhimes a run for her money in terms of shocking behavior. MIL loves that I am a divorce attorney. She is always pumping me for stories from work so that she can gossip with her congregation, and rarely I do throw her a bone (never with specifics, all within my ethnical boundaries). For example, I'll tell her, "My client has five kids but only wants custody of 3." I don't elaborate and just let her feign absolute shock over someone not loving their children equally. Fast foward to the title incident. MIL is in town for DH's birthday. We flew her in because it was a nice thing to do and up until today I was fond of her. She's staying with us, which is fine because we have a guest room and our home is large enough that no one's personal bubble feels invaded. As most MILs do, she is always insistent on cleaning my home. She's never snooped before so it doesn't bother me, but I do very firmly tell her that we have a housekeeper and to just enjoy her vacation. Today I worked from home as I often do when I have no meetings. I was in my home office slaving away on one of my more contentious (re: juicy) cases and I took a break to shower and get ready to take MIL out to lunch. DH was at work so it was just us two gals until quittin' time. I figured we would grab some overpriced salads and do some window shopping. What could go wrong? Immediately after the iced teas were served MIL says, "So what ever happened to Mr. & Mrs. [Smith's] embryos? Did she get custody or were they destroyed? and some more very detailed questions about the case that I am definitely too paranoid to even mention vaguely because of her" YOU. FUCKING. GUYS. I literally snorted my tea. It went everywhere. I looked like the Bellagio fountain. MIL had the audacity to go through my case files. MY CONFIDENTIAL CASE FILES and read the facts while I was in the shower. I asked her how the fuck she knew so much about the case I was working on and she said she was cleaning my office while I was getting ready and that I had just "left it out." Um, no the fuck I did not. They make you take an entire class in law school about doing shit like this. I would never. It's been ingrained in me since my 1L year that attorney-client privilege is paramount. AND IF PIGS FLEW AND I DID LEAVE IT OUT, this case is a monster. To garner that much information about the divorce would require her to turn several pages. So me "leaving it out" is no excuse as she would have had to sit her dumbass down and read through it. It's not like all the facts could have fit on one sheet of paper that just so happened to be lying on my desk. She said she NEEDED to be in my office because it was filthy. Ok, I"ll admit it's a little dusty and there are a few coffee mugs in the room but it is by no means filthy, and the reason it's in this minor shape of disarray is because I don't allow the housekeeper into my office FOR THIS VERY REASON!!!! I opened my wallet, threw some cash onto the table for what we ordered, and told her to get in the car. I cannot even remember the ride home. I was just yelling and lecturing and lectu-yellling. This was an incredibly shitty thing for her to do. Working at a boutique firm, my reputation is everything to my career. I cannot have word on the street that I just go around town spilling client secrets at the local watering hole. She can very well ruin my budding career by doing this. I think I threatened to sue her if she blabbed about this case? I definitely threatened to tell her son what an imbecile his mother is. I threatened to never have her in our home again. It doesn't matter because as soon as we got home I told her to pack her things or I'll have her arrested for trespassing and then I called her an Uber and listed the address on my app as the airport. I didn't even pay for her plane ticket. I don't know what's going to happen actually, I do know that she's at the airport right now because that's where the app dropped her off. My husband won't know about any of this until 5:01 pm because he works on a secure job-site and there's no phone calls or texting. I have steam coming out of my ears. I do feel guilty because she might be stranded at the airport without my financial help, but what she did was so out of line that I think a few hours of time-out would do my pettiness some good before I finally call the American Airlines terminal and get her a one-way ticket back to Gossipville, USA. As I said, I love drama too but not enough to put anyone's livelihood at risk!!! It was such an intrusion that I am at a loss for words. Am I mad for myself? Am I mad for my client? This is the first JUSTNO thing that she's ever done and I'm glad I demonstrated that this behavior is not to be tolerated, but part of me kind of thinks she's just too stupid to realize how bad her actions were. I'm going to wait until DH comes home before I try to contact her. I'm still too much in a state of "WTFFFFF" to deal with her right now. [Update] Kicked MIL out of the house for putting my career in jeopardy (2 Oct 2017, recovered via unddit) If your eyeballs are itching for an update then you better sit down, it's a long one. I want to thank everyone for their support, I wavered in justifying my reaction because it was so strong but I honestly don't regret it. I was feeling kind of down for being so harsh on her right after she left but you guys really drilled it into my head that everybody knows what privilege is. I mean, Law&Order has been on-air for 400 years there's no way she doesn't know that what you tell your lawyer is confidential. I acknowledge that it may seem extreme to some of you who don't practice law, but this is my livelihood. This is the only thing that I know how to do professionally, it took me a lot of money to be able to do this (school), and the consequences for a breach like this is very severe. In all reality, I could lose my license for something like this. I exploded like I did because it was just so disrespectful to the life that I had tried so hard to build for myself and her son. To answer the most common questions I got on my original post: While I was tearing her a new one, she was very belittling of the severity of the situation. She would say things like, "It's no big deal, I don't even know them!" or "You can trust me, we're faaaaamily!" I think that her not understanding that this isn't just gossip made my mind stop working. It literally broke me and I had no more rational fucks to give to her. You want to snoop? Fine. But don't make ME feel like the asshole when you get caught. You were the one in the wrong! The whole time she was just trying to make me feel like I was overreacting, and that what she did wasn't THAT big of a deal. Um, yes the fuck it was. She acted like she was just humoring my temper tantrum, that type of "Oh, when you tire yourself out I'll put you down for a nap" attitude. I'm not a toddler MIL, but that mentality would explain why it was so easy to get her into that Uber. She probably thought she would be able to return in a few hours after I had calmed down. My home office has a 6-digit numerical code lock. We installed this not because I ever anticipated something like this would happen but because DH also owns a lot of firearms. How did she get the code? Guess. Fucking guess. She absolutely NEEDED DH's original birth certificate (why. we are grown ass adults. what could you possibly need it for?) and instead of getting it for her like a person who has been specifically trained on the importance of security would, DH just stayed on the couch playing video games and gave her the code, and told her exactly where to find the birth certificate. All MY fucking whats. All YOUR whats. Everybody's whats. Don't worry, he understands his colossal mistake now. Yes, we can trust her with guns. No, we can't trust her with anything else. Thank you for all of your concerns about my job, some comments were very sweet and I can't believe you guys care so much about me. I'm just a screen name to you! However, it's not necessary to make suggestions on how I handle the consequences this situation will bear on my career. I know exactly how to deal with the situation professionally. I just didn't know how to do it personally. Okay, now onto what happened: I decided not to shoot DH a warning text as some of you suggested because I wanted to make her tie her own noose. I wanted her to tell him such a vivid story so rich with fake details that it would be impossible for her to backtrack when I disprove her version of the events. I even wrote out of bunch of pointed questions that DH can ask her in order to corner her into telling the truth (not unlike questions you would use in a deposition). I don't know why I was preparing a litigation strategy, I guess I was swinging the pendulum too much to the other side because of how emotional my reaction was earlier. I wanted to be extra rational now. It's a little embarrassing in hindsight. This was the first time MIL and I ever had a disagreement so divisive that it required DH to pick sides. And tbh, I have so much faith in my husband but because this was unchartered territory, I didn't know what to expect! I was pretty sure he is my partner in love and in life, but y'all really freak me out sometimes with those mama's boys stories. I'm glad I was right about him. A little after 6, DH walks into the house and asks me so bluntly, "Why are the cops going to sue my mom?" It was so far removed from what actually happened that I started laughing hysterically! "That's not what happened, baby. I told your mom I would call the cops on her if she didn't leave immediately, and I'm ashamed to admit that I did threaten to sue her when I was yelling indiscriminately (I have no actionable cause that I could prevail on really)." I told him what happened and he was just confused. He already talked to MIL so he knew she was at the airport and he knew the situation. Luckily for me, she didn't come up with any elaborate lies to tell him. She "truthfully" told him her version of what happened and tried to make it seem like I blew it out of proportion. I half-expected this because if she thought she was doing something truly, really wrong she would not have brought it up so casually over lunch. I told him we need to buy her a plane ticket because she wasn't welcomed back in our home and he agreed. He didn't try to justify her actions and he understood so clearly how bad this could have been for me, and for us (we just closed on our home two months ago so going down to one income would've been a financial disaster). We are both kind of sad that the trip ended this way but it's not something MIL and I can just "heart-to-heart" right now. I need time. I need space. I need wine. Bonus: She was having a pity party at the airport for almost 9 hours because she "forgot" her wallet at our place. She wanted DH to drive it to her because how else would she board a flight home without ID? And of course she couldn't call me because I'm so scary when I yell. So please, please DH you have to find her wallet and bring it to her. It was on the neatly made bed. I mean, c'mon! At least toss it behind a nightstand or something so your story would be more believable! She probably just wanted to see DH without me and convince him I've lost my marbles being so upset like that with her. Jokes on her, I made him buy her a non-refundable plane ticket online before he left the house. Bye, bitch! [Update 2] Kicked MIL out of the house for putting my career in jeopardy (3 Oct 2017, recovered via unddit) Welcome all llamas! This is my last and final update. Also, I will probably delete my previous posts soon for obvious reasons. I took a personal day today to deal with the fall-out of her idiocy and have just enough time during my lunch to sneak you guys a snack. You guys, WE WON (kind of)! Me, you, and everyone here on JustNoMIL! All victory is shared as it was a collective effort. I got a groveling apology this morning from MIL. I listened to her, I mean truly listened to her and you know what? It was a weird fucking apology. I said a bunch of neutral "uh-huhs" and "yups" but I didn't really accept the apology yet because why should I? You can be as sorry as you want for something you did, but it's the other person's prerogative to forgive you. Saying sorry isn't a carte blanche to be a dick, MIL. I think I need more time. DH knows I'm not a quick forgive. Okay, so when we left off DH was driving her "forgotten" wallet to the airport. Here's where some background is helpful. You guys, my husband is a monk. He has the temperament of an iceberg. I'm the one with a fiery disposition (can you tell?). What can I say, opposites do attract! It takes a lot to set him off and it's usually only when there is a direct threat to me or his beloved best friend, our dog. Well, HOURS go by and he's still at the airport. I knew this was going to happen because the plane ticket we bought MIL wasn't until very early the next morning and she probably wanted to spend more time with her son or rewrite history or alienate more people's trust, I don't really know. But I DO know what when DH came home from the airport I knew that SHIT. WENT. DOWN. He came into the house like a hurricane. Doors were slammed, keys were thrown, he even felt compelled to kick a dog toy (which only made the dog happily run after it and break all tension). Apparently his hours-long conversation with his mother was frustrating but productive. I will summarize below: MIL spent an hour trying to minimize the situation. She doesn't think what she did was that big of a deal because of faaaaamily loyalty or whatever. Of course she will never say anything about the case because we are her faaaaamily. It was then that DH showed the world his sexy diamond spine. He told her that if faaaamily was so important to her then she would not have hurt me like this, and that I am her faaaamily because I am his family. Swoon. She seemed to start getting how serious the situation is at this point (because of course it's not that big of a deal until her precious baby is hurting). He then went on to say how this could have hurt HIM. (Note: my DH put me through law school. I'm not saying he was with me when I was in law school, I'm saying this man paid my tuition and supported me all three years. We did this shit together.) He told her how much we as a couple invested in my career and how we could have lost the house because of her. He told her that now that I was finally practicing that it was his turn to go back to grad school and how she could have completely annihilated that option. It was around this time that she started ugly crying. You know what I'm talking about- snot, tears, saliva. She never meant to hurt him. She is so, so sorry. She won't say anything to anybody about what happened. She will never jeopardize his career (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! That's literally my title!!!!!!!) Oh my god, I am hyperventilating just typing that out. So she finally understands the gravity of what happened. He told her that what she did was a non-negotiable deal breaker and that he wouldn't hold it against me if I never allowed her in our home again. Aaaaaaand this is where things got a little dicey for her. She got her giant puppy eyes all and welled up and pouted, "But I'm your mother! Can't you just TELL her to let me back in?" That's cute, MIL. The last time someone told me what to do (i.e., to calm down) they ended up in an Uber to the airport. Let's see how your son's luck will run with that request. DH knows this little quirk about me and he got frustrated because it's like MIL is not hearing what he was saying. He was trying to explain to her that this was between me and her. She breached MY trust, and these are MY consequences. DH and I are equals, he is not my boss. She can't "Can-I-speak-to-your-supervisor" her way out of this. She was STILL not getting it by the time she had to board so he just came home and made a bunch of loud noises because it's hard on him to have two very important people in his life go toe-to-toe. He told me it felt like she was deliberately playing dumb to not face the music. (Duh, babe.) Anyways, long story short is that she called to beg my forgiveness this morning but the apology was filled with, "I would never do anything to hurt my baby. I'm so sorry for all the pain this caused him. I was wrong. Etc, etc." I mean, am I wrong to hold out for an apology TO ME?? I don't want to dwell on this, but it seems like she doesn't really give a fuck about how this could have affected me. Only when it was explained to her how it could have hurt her son did she feel even an iota of remorse. The end. Edit: Ah! I almost forgot about the worst part! Ok, so you know how she "forgot her wallet?" Well, if you've been following closely, we didn't finish lunch and MIL decided to pull a poorly executed power move by leaving her wallet behind. So of course she must have been hungry waiting at the airport all that time. Did she have to beg for money? Did she have to depend on the kindness of strangers? OF COURSE NOT! This is JustNoMIL. She used Apple Pay. From a phone we pay for. Linked to an account we also pay for. DH had to explain to her that if I lose my job we won't be a dual income household anymore and we will have to "trim the fat." So bye, bye QVC and random church rummage sales! We would have cut your allowance, Lady! THIS got her attention and I firmly believe it's what got her to even muster an apology to me as insincere as it was. [Update: wtf edition] Kicked MIL out of the house for putting my career in jeopardy (16 Oct 2017, recovered via unddit) Edit: HOLY SHIT! I was so, so, so, ready for all this to be over that I didn't realize how blind she's made me! Of course it doesn't matter what she thinks is true or not! She still went into my locked office and opened a file that was put away! How is any of that ok no matter what the explanation is?! I tell ya, dumb is contagious sometimes. If you find yourself exposed to dumb, have a shortness of breath, or blurred vision please contact your local Emergency Room for a MIL amputation. NOPE, screw her-- I'm still mad. (Also, not that I own anyone an explanation for what I do with my own damn money. But MIL gets an allowance from us because she makes just enough to cover her mortgage and her bills. A few hundred a month for us is not a lot, but to her it's the difference between eating fresh, healthy foods or processed crap. One missed paycheck can equal disaster for her, that's how tight her budget is. We pay for some day-to-day stuff because to be frank, I don't want her living with me. Sex in the kitchen is fun. Sue me. Lol, don't. I'm very busy at work already.) Ok, so I know that I said my last update was going to be my last update but I needed an outside perspective on this situation. I don't even know how to process what MIL said to me. It broke my brain. Some of you might remember that I'm the attorney DIL who unceremoniously threw her MIL out of the house for being nosey. Well, I obviously have not spoken to her since The Purge (a national holiday for all DILs). However, with Thanksgiving being next month she had a reason contact us. She sent a few text messages here and there and was met with noncommittal "We'll see's...." from the both of us. I guess the lack of concrete plans made her bite the bullet and call me (even though she's sooooo scared of me eyeroll). So some background here is necessary: DH's parents are divorced. Christmas is always with my family since neither side of his family has any children and my side has like, a million. Christmas is more fucking magical with children because they believe in Santa. I don't think that's a statement you can find fault with. Anyways, so to compromise we spend even numbered years at FIL's house for Thanksgiving and odd numbered years at MIL's house. As you can probably guess, I am not keen on going to see her this year. So back to the phone call-- She calls me and just outright asks if we are coming to Southern State this year, I wasn't sure about going before but her audacity made me snap. I said, "Hell no. In fact, I'm still mad at you, I sure as fuck haven't forgiven you. ANNNND you never apologized to me even though I'm the one you have wronged!" She knew we weren't going to go, otherwise why would she ask? It's an odd numbered year, this is one of her years. She was either trying to mend things with me in time for the holidays or she was trying to bait me. Either way, it kind of worked. This is where she drops this idiot BOMB on me: She's sorry. But she doesn't understand why I'm so mad because it's not like she could have said anything anyway. After all, by law you're supposed to keep your families secrets or you can go to jail. I will admit, this is where I short circuited. I should have asked more inquisitive questions, I should have investigated further but it was really hard for me to respond because, like I said, my brain broke. From what clues I was able to gather during her ramblings, she has confused spousal privilege with...."familial privilege" (ALERT: this is not a thing so please don't say you learned it from me!). So she thinks that because spouses cannot be COMPELLED to testify against one another that this means families can't tell on each other. Ok, I want to make one thing very clear here, I did not marry into the Mafia so at this point you should be laughing so hard that you're peeing in your pants. Why would "the family" need that much protection MIL, WHY. Second, HOW DOES THIS MEAN YOU CAN SNOOP AT MY FILES?! No one in the family is on trial. Spousal privilege only comes into play when there's a criminal or civil suit occurring! It's not dormant right. I JUST CANT. Third, yes spouses cannot be compelled to testify against each other but they can absolutely waive that privilege not that she cares but I just wanted announce that fact as a PSA so that no one will ever get this SO WRONG again. I'm still not going to eat turkey at her house and make nice because the situation is just too recent for me to be genuinely cordial to her yet. But you guys, I'm inclined to begin to forgive her. Her explanation of why she thought it was ok to read my files is just dumb enough that I can understand it being a mistake of ignorance, but it's honestly too "smart" for her to make up out of thin air. She's not complex enough of a thinker to backtrack and make up an explanation like this, she really isn't! This is where I need your help, I am clouded by my legal education. Of course I think this is beyond stupid and the fact that anyone can even fathom the concept of familial privilege makes me want to stick a phillips head screwdriver into my ear and swirl, BUT not everyone went to law school. Can someone reasonably have made this mistake? I don't want to be mad at her forever. It honestly takes too much energy to be mad at someone you love. Bonus: We sent her a credit card instead of depositing cash into her account every month. It was a small and petty thing, but knowing that we can see her purchases really cut down the splurge spending. It's really only groceries and gas now. I did this under the guise of "Oh, we'd really like the airline miles," but really it was a, "I'm super duper mad at you but I already kicked you out of my house so really, what else can I do?" maneuver. She's earned a name: Piercing Patty. (Part 1) (23 April 2018) This is the saga of how she and I came to be NC, it is very long with a lot of moving parts so I will likely have to break this story into several posts. Piercing Patty, PP for efficiency, has a younger sister (AIL) who in turn has a daughter (CIL). AIL is a nice lady, but our relationship consists of very polite conversation every other Thanksgiving so I don't consider us very close. AIL and PP live in Southern State. DH and I live in much larger, more urban Coastal State. CIL currently attends college in our city. She is a very bright young woman and I've grown to be very fond of her. Since we are the only family CIL has in the area, we get the pleasure of hosting her for long weekends during holidays like MLK when a 3 day weekend is nice, but would not warrant a trip all the way home for a college student. It's great! She gets to come do laundry and I have someone to talk to about my guilty pleasure, celebrity gossip. We feed her, she walks the dog for us, sometimes I treat her to a mani-pedi, and then we send her back with clean clothes and some leftovers. AIL has expressed how grateful she is that we open our home to her kid. It's no problem at all AIL, it truly is our pleasure as your kid is awesome! Well, about 2 months ago CIL was struck by a drunk driver as she was driving home from class. It was bad. The car looked like a crumpled piece of paper. When I went to the tow yard to get insurance figured out, and I saw how her vehicle looked, I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. We were VERY lucky, she only suffered from a broken leg and fractured wrist but it could have been so, so, so much worse and I honestly cannot even talk about the accident without devolving into pure, unadulterated rage. Naturally, AIL was in a frenzy and needed to see her daughter ASAP. Now, this part is unconfirmed but the story is that AIL was so emotional about the whole ordeal she asked PP to come along for support. I think the more obvious reality is that PP invited herself along and AIL didn't have the capacity to say no to her because um, hello, her child is injured. PP, I'm onto you. All those times I thought I was being paranoid? I wasn't, I see you now- clear as day! You are committed to the long con. I know this won't make sense to you guys yet but it will in my next few posts. DH and I obviously got to the hospital first. We saw CIL, made sure she was ok, DH stayed with her while the doctors did doctor things and I went off to do lawyer things because if you think you can get drunk and T-bone the only other person in my life who even knows the name of all the Kardashians, you got another thing coming. AIL and PP arrive mid-afternoon the next morning. They literally booked the next flight out. Cool, I get it. But we did call you guys to tell you that CIL was pretty much a-okay so maybe you could have slowed your roll a bit and planned this trip a little more carefully. As in, where are you gonna stay when you get into town AIL & PP? OF COURSE YOU EXPECT IT TO BE MY HOUSE! Why wouldn't it be? It's not like I banned PP from it for breaking into my home office and doing shit that would get my metaphorical ass kicked by the state bar or anything.... but since CIL is in the hospital, I'm the one that's gonna look like the asshole for following through with my rules! Next up? Part 2: PP almost gets arrested twice and Part 3: The unforgivable thing Piercing Patty almost gets arrested. Twice. (23 April 2018) So last we left off there was a small family reunion at the hospital. CIL, DH, me, AIL, and the star of our show: Piercing Patty! AIL came swooping into the hospital just Mom-ing it up left & right. She was fluffing pillows, talking to doctors, calling whoever it is you need to call when your kid is fucked up. Meanwhile, PP is sitting in the corner acting really tired. Now, I say "acting really tired" because it was her comical adaptation of how a tired person would act. She was dramatically yawning, stretching her arms, rubbing her eyes, she looked like a French mime. She didn't say it outright, but I knew she wanted to go home with me and DH. Too. Fucking. Bad. As soon as I saw that CIL was being cared for by her doting mother, I was ready to peace out! I was wiped. I gave DH the signal we use at cocktail parties to indicate lets GTFO and we put on our coats. PP stops us and has the audacity to say, "Well what about me?!" Uh, what about you, PP? For once, for once, for god damn once, none of this is about you. "Where am I supposed to stay?" Fucking, don't you creatures live in a cookie tree or some shit? I pause for a second and realize it's not about me either. Fully ignoring PP, I turn to AIL and ask her where she had intended on staying. AIL tells me she plans on staying at the hotel adjacent to the hospital because they didn't rent a car and she wanted to be accessible to her daughter. You know, like a normal person. So there you go, PP! If the real reason you came was to help AIL then I guess your ass is staying at that hotel too. But alas, logic does not shame a justnomil. PP: Can I come home with you guys to rest for a few hours? DH shoots me a glance because he knows I'm about to pop off and he giving me the "go easy" eyes Me: No. PP: Whyyyy not? Me: Because AIL needs help with her daughter, that's the sole reason you came isn't it? (Ha, bitch. I know it aint! You mad we skipped 2017 holiday season with you and you wanna get back into my house. Over my dead body!) PP: Oh, AIL is fine without me for a few hours. Me: Then why did you even come? Anyways, DH and I don't have time to chauffeur you back and forth all day. We have a lot of work to catch up on and we are going home. PP: Oh, I'll just call a cab later. What do you kids call it, a Goober? (You know damn well what it's called. I shoved you into one 6 months ago so your dumbass could get to the airport!) At this point I knew what she was doing. I felt kind of paranoid up until now but she kept pushing and pushing to come back into my home after I threw her out and I was going to push back DH: Well, if you need a place to nap just for a couple of hours.... Me: ....Then go check into your hotel, Patricia. Everyone's had a long night. (DH knows he almost fucked up real bad. So he just shut up and left the room. I followed.) DH and I get home , we crawl into bed, and sleep for exactly 1 hr before our phones start ringing, it's the gate guard. (Ok, so let's back up for a second- we bought a house in a gated community less than a year ago. To enter into the community you either need a beepy box on your dashboard, or your name needs to be added by a resident of the community to the gate list. Do you see where this is going?) Guard calls us and tells us that a car just dropped off a lady who is screaming at him, she is repeating over and over that she is DH's mother and demands to be let in, she is saying that she used to be on the list so there must be a mistake. There's no mistake PP, I took you off that damn thing almost immediately after I exorcised you from my home. Be gone, Satan. DH groans and puts on pants to go wrangle his mother. This is the best part my llamas. So before he can make the approximately 1 min drive to the front gate, PP goes ballistic! She charges the little booth that the guards have and starts throwing things. Staplers, radios, stationary...ALL AIRBORNE! She got a few good throws in there too, the guards tell me she made contact with a pen cup. One of them suffered a blow to the noggin :/ Obviously they call the cops. DH calls me and tells me to get down there because they're about to arrest her. And I say, "Oh no, she had better call a lawyer." Haaaaaaa! **Okay, disclaimer I love my husband very much and I do not feel good about leaving him high and dry to deal with the cops but WTF was she thinking just showing up like that? What was the best case scenario in her mind? That we were going to welcome her into our home again and then everybody hugs and drinks hot tea together? Idiot. In the end DH talked them out of pressing charges because she was playing up the lil old lady routine pretty hard. He drove her back to the hotel but that incident made her zero-in on the seismic shift in my relationship with her. I didn't even come to the gate to deal with her. She had lost control over me, she could not get to me because she couldn't reach me anymore, either emotionally or physically. And as we all know, this is the recipe for an extinction burst. Bake at 350F for 20 mins until golden brown and toothpick comes out clean. Eeek! This got longer than I expected so I will tell you guys of her second run-in with the cops in Part 2.5 Continued in another post as the character limit has been exceeded. OP kicked MIL out of the house for putting her career in jeopardy. (Part 2) submitted by /u/WeArePungency to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

I've been doing lots of research to switch my pup (rescued directly from an abusive/neglectful home, I don't buy animals) to a plant based diet, and today I pulled the trigger and bought some! I got the smallest bag of "Halo Garden of Vegan Adult Dog Food" as well as the peanut pumpkin treats under the same name. Y'all...he went BALLISTIC. He's extremely well behaved 99.9999% of the time but today was the first time in forever I had to tell him to not jump on me (he's over 100lbs, big strong lad) and stop yelling at me. He ate it so enthusiastically, literally wagging his tail as he ate. I'm seriously considering getting him an even more complicated slow feeder bowl because he ate it so fast he's probably gonna start swallowing air again like he did when eating from a normal dish lmao. When he finished he stared at me to give him more and then got huffy when I didn't (mood). He's a dog so it's not surprising that he likes to eat lol but I have never ever seen him go that coocoo for coco puffs. So that went WAY better than I expected. He's picky as hell and I was worried he wouldn't even want it at all, which is why I got a tiny bag to start with. I'll make an update post in a few months to see how he's doing overall! I'm hoping it helps his skin like it has for other dogs because his is a little dry and he has some mild dandruff, but otherwise he's very healthy and fit. If he could live to be 20+ years that would be so so so incredible because I hate that his breed (Gerberian Shepsky) usually tend to only make it to 10-15. That's what happened to Bramble the longest living domesticated dog, she was a Border Collie which has a similar average lifespan and she lived to be 25!!! Now I just need to find some plant-based food my cats like. They're even MORE mega picky and there's 4 of them so that's gonna be tough. I'm hopeful though. Edit: Anyways look at my dog lol https://imgur.com/a/auwkBNs submitted by /u/_-_Chiisai_-_ to r/vegan [link] [comments]

My friend and his gf of a few months came by for dinner and drinks this weekend along with my fiance and a couple other mutual friends. At some point I took off my wedding and engagement rings so I can cook and get chicken all over my hands (salmonella is bad kids) without worrying about them. After we eat and dishes are placed in the sink I reach blindly for my rings since I always put them in a specific notch in the counter and only feel one. Cue panic. I asked everyone if they've seen the wedding band anywhere or if it got knocked off the counter and it got to a point where I was on all fours on the ground hyperventilating while me and our friends searched. I showed them all a picture of it in case and the gf goes "oh that thing? I thought it was foil I threw it away!" Record scratch. Dafuq? Everyone was staring at her and I'm pretty sure my face was changing colors more rapidly than metal under a blowtorch. She starts giggling and points at the trash. The trash is about half full of food prep stuff and puppy pads because we have a disabled French bulldog that literally cant control his bowels so yeah. Pads. "What it was an honest mistake! You left it with the other food stuffs and I was just trying to help!" I asked if she was serious and she shrugged and repeated that it was just a mistake and the ring would most likely be sitting on top of everything. Cursory glance said nope. My saint SO offers to dig it out and I was too furious to say anything so I just nodded and glared at her. My friend (the bf) helps him too and they do end up finding it after nearly puking from the dog doo. After they wash it off they place it on a towel to dry and the gf still kept saying that she accidentally mistook it for foil. I turn to her and in a calmness that afterwards left me shaking and lightheaded said "You need to leave now, before I crush your face because I ACCIDENTALLY mistook you for cockroach." My friend and her gasp and our other friends kinda stared at each other and back at me. Gf bursts into tears and storms out. My friend follows her after an angry glare at me. Our other friends told me I took it too far and maybe she was just playing a prank etc. They even mentioned that it was because my wedding band was not that expensive it wouldn't have been a big deal if we lost it. My SO asks them to leave too as I am about to lay the wrath of God into them. So reddit, am I the asshole here? Did I overreact? Tldr friends gf throws my ring away "accidentally" so I tell her to gtfo before accidentally confusing her for a cockroach. Edit: lots of comments to muddle thru so I'll add one here. Thank you to all the comments even the ones saying iata. I recognize that threatening violence was not okay and I regret that part but if I'm an asshole for comparing her to a disgusting pest I don't want to be right. Some clarity as well - she NEVER apologized which is why I dont think it was accidental. She was chuckling and snorting while my SO and her bf dug through dog shit and food peels. She knew she fucked up because she didn't make eye contact with me at all while they were doing it either. Even her bf doesn't think it was accidental after I talked to him today, but that it was harmless and we didn't really lose the ring and I shouldn't have called her a cockroach. The ring, although inexpensive is sparkly and does not look like foil. It was absolutely insulting that my friends thought it was a non issue that they thought that I can just buy a new one if I had actually lost it. I'll post a picture in a bit to clear up confusion. Edit 2: my engagement and wedding band http://imgur.com/a/YR9rkxh Edit 3: last edit for the night Here are the rings put together: http://imgur.com/a/zqfKYr1 Thank you to everyone with different perspectives. I'll say it again, I shouldn't have threatened her, yes it was in the heat of the moment but her smug laughing face pushed me over the edge. Not an excuse. Maybe I'm biased to not think my ring separately looks like foil but really its seeming less and less of a mistake when you consider that putting foil in compost makes no sense. She could've tossed it in the other two bins but she put it in the one we told them only food scraps and biological wet trash goes into. Like they've been to our house before. The bf is still going to be my friend since honestly I don't blame him for the things she chose to do. That's her agency. Not my problem. ​ EDIT 4 FINAL EDIT. (will be adding to this as I read through) I have read through most-ish of the comments so I will try and answer multiples of questions here and also some clarifications. Why are you wearing your wedding ring if you're just engaged? - My fiance and I went shopping for wedding bands together after he gave me the engagement ring. When we found one that remotely fits, we took it home and pried it open wide enough to fit the engagement ring, and I wanted to wear it already and he agreed. I am also a girl, they were at my house. Why is there poo in the kitchen trash? - We have 3 bins in the house. 2 of them are open air, one for recycling, the other for non-recycling. The poo pad + compost bin is metal and covered and double bagged. We've had our disabled dog for around 6 months and this is the method that has worked for us because it's a hassle to run outside with drippy poo pee pads 3-5 times a day. I recognize IATA for threatening violence. I do not feel bad about calling her a cockroach. Why are you focusing your question on calling her a cockroach when you should be asking about the "crushing her face" deal? - At the time, and even now, our friends thought that the cockroach bit and telling her to leave was the bit that went too far. How do you know she did it on purpose? - She still hasn't apologized, even if it was accidental. She did not throw anything else away because I throw everything I don't need away as I cook. She has been to my house many times. She has seen my rings together on my finger often. Also, if she accidentally threw away some 'foil' she wouldn't have recognized that she did from seeing the picture. But you found it so why are you still making a big deal about it? - If I didn't reach for my rings at the time and they left after dinner, we would have thrown away the bin and it would have been lost forever. Thank you to all the people that say my rings are beautiful. I didn't even realize the title said "it" until this morning, sorry about that. Why do they even know the value of the ring? - We found them separately on Etsy and got both pieces for a bargain and bragged about it when we got them. What is the stone in the engagement ring? - Alexandrite. It changes color depending on ambient lighting. We will be investing in a ring saucer to place my rings in when cooking to mitigate any future incidents. How long have you known these people? - The GF has been around for 7-8 months and we have hung out many many times before and during my engagement. The BF has been a close friend for around 10 years and no, I am not cutting him out. The other 2 guests are acquaintances that I've known for about a year. I am pretty sure I missed something else but here is the dog tax of Jackson that some of the people have asked for. I will keep trying to respond to the comments but this really blew up. Thank you for your perspectives. Also, to the people saying it's fake because my writing style is too well thought out, or that I have great grammar... Thanks I guess? submitted by /u/Thatlilone to r/AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]