Bubble Guppies Dvd On The Job

INDEX CHAPTER 1 LOG ENTRY: DAY 214 I am a man of science. I deal in observable facts, quantifiable data, and rigorous peer review. I do not believe in ghosts, I do not believe in magic, and I certainly don't believe the universe cares enough about me to play practical jokes. But right now, the universe is being a real dick. To understand why, you need to understand where I am. I’m sitting in a pressurized tin can at the bottom of the Creighton Nickel Mine in Sudbury, Ontario. My laboratory—the Deep-Ice Decoherence Project, or DIDP—is exactly 6,800 feet below the surface of the Earth. I am surrounded by two miles of solid Canadian bedrock and an acrylic vessel containing 10,000 tons of ultra-pure heavy water. My job is to measure the decay of protons to a degree of accuracy that would make Einstein weep. I am currently on month seven of a twelve-month solitary rotation. I sit here in total isolation for a year at a time, making sure that the fundamental building blocks of matter aren't quietly falling apart. The heavy water and the rock shield my sensors from all cosmic background radiation. It’s the quietest place in the solar system. I am literally the most isolated human being on the planet. It’s also the most boring. To keep myself from going completely insane, I brought down a 4-terabyte, air-gapped hard drive. It contains the pinnacle of human achievement: an entire archive of 90s and 2000s pop culture. Every Nintendo 64 game, thousands of movies, and all nine seasons of Seinfeld. It is my lifeline. When you are hiding two miles underground to avoid dealing with a messy breakup and the general exhausting nature of other human beings, you need a distraction. Every morning at 0600, my comms terminal connects to the surface via a mile-long fiber-optic cable. It downloads a compressed text packet of daily news and Wikipedia updates. It’s a one-way data dump just to keep me tethered to civilization. If you had told me a year ago that my greatest enemy two miles beneath the Canadian shield would be a dial-up modem sound, I would have asked to check your vitals. Today, while the packet was downloading, I decided to fire up a classic. I booted up Forrest Gump. I’ve seen it maybe thirty times. It’s a masterpiece. I was at the bench scene. You know the one. Tom Hanks is sitting there with his box of chocolates, talking to the nurse. He looks at the camera and says, "My mama always said, life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." Classic. Iconic. Except, I paused it right there because I couldn't remember what year it won Best Picture. I spun my chair around to my work terminal, opened the freshly downloaded surface data packet, and queried the Wikipedia scrape for the movie. There, under the "Legacy" section, the article read: I scoffed. Was. What an idiot. Some troll had vandalized the Wikipedia page right before the surface script scraped it for my daily download. But I had nothing but time, so I dug deeper into the text packet. I checked the IMDb scrape. I checked the archived Reddit threads included in the pop-culture dump. Every single reference said "was". Life was like a box of chocolates. People were debating it. Whole forums were dedicated to people claiming they remembered it being "is," while the "facts" proved it had always been "was." They were calling it the Mandela Effect. I rolled my eyes. Mass confabulation. A bunch of people misremembering a vowel sound. The human brain is a notoriously terrible hard drive. We overwrite our own memories all the time based on suggestion. But to prove them wrong—and to satisfy my own petty, burning need to be right—I decided to extract the audio file from my offline, air-gapped copy of the movie and compare it to a digital audio snippet included in the surface packet. I wrote a quick Python script to isolate the exact 2.4 seconds of audio from both files. If it was just a pronunciation quirk—Hanks swallowing the "s" in "is" so it sounded like "was"—the acoustic waveforms would be mathematically identical. I ran a Fast Fourier Transform to analyze the audio frequencies. I stared at the two graphs on my monitor. They didn't match. It wasn't a subtle difference, either. The phonetic structure of a short 'i' sound versus a 'w' sound creates entirely different acoustic signatures. My offline file had a clear, distinct spike in the 2000-3000 Hz range—the 'i' in "is." The surface file—the one representing the outside world—had a low-frequency rumble characteristic of a 'w'. My heart did a weird flutter in my chest. Okay, Elliot, I thought. Someone on the surface digitally altered the movie file. But why? Why would someone alter every digital copy of a 1994 movie, modify the subtitle sync files, and change every text reference on the internet, just to change one verb? And how did they alter the physical DVD copies people had in their homes? I am a metrologist. When the data doesn't fit the model, you don't throw out the data. You test the baseline. I swiveled to my primary console. The DIDP sensors are designed to measure the universe at the quantum level. They constantly monitor the fine-structure constant—the number that dictates the strength of electromagnetic interaction between elementary particles. Usually, $\alpha$ is a dimensionless constant: $$\alpha = \frac{e^2}{4\pi \varepsilon_0 \hbar c} \approx \frac{1}{137.035999}$$ I pulled up the live telemetry from the heavy water tank. The number wasn't 1/137.035999. It was 1/137.035998. The fundamental electromagnetism of the universe had shifted by a fraction of a decimal point. I froze. The humming of the lab’s ventilation system suddenly felt incredibly loud. I looked at my air-gapped hard drive. It was sitting on my desk, totally disconnected from any network. It had been sitting there, two miles underground, surrounded by 10,000 tons of radiation-shielding heavy water, for 214 days. I looked back at the surface data packet. The universe didn't digitally alter a Tom Hanks movie. The universe changed. Sometime in the last 24 hours, the timeline of reality was rewritten. A butterfly flapped its wings in 1950, or a quantum state collapsed differently at the dawn of time, and it rippled forward, changing the fine-structure constant and causing a screenwriter in 1994 to type the word "was" instead of "is." The whole universe updated to the new software patch. Except for my lab. Because of the heavy water and the two miles of bedrock, I am sitting in a quantum-shielded Faraday cage. The reality-overwrite wave hit the Earth, but it couldn't penetrate the DIDP shielding. I didn't misremember the quote. My hard drive is an artifact from a timeline that no longer exists. I am officially the last human alive who remembers the original timeline. A red warning light flashed on my primary console. WARNING: VESSEL PRESSURE ANOMALY. I checked the sensor feeds. The outer edge of the heavy water tank was experiencing massive thermal fluctuations. He calculates that his heavy-water tank is protecting him, but it's boiling away at the edges. The new timeline—the one where Forrest Gump speaks in the past tense—is physically pressing against my reality bubble. The friction between the two collapsing timelines is boiling the heavy water on the outer edges. The shielding is failing. The new reality is eating through my tank at a rate of roughly 4.2 centimeters per hour. I did some quick mental math. Based on the radius of the tank, the reality overwrite will breach my pressurized living quarters in exactly 94 hours. When it does, I will be overwritten. My memories of the original timeline will be erased, and the Elliot Vance who sits here will cease to exist, replaced by whatever version of me belongs to the new timeline. I have four days to figure out how to stop a quantum reality collapse using nothing but particle physics, duct tape, and my Nintendo 64. And based on the escalating alerts on my metrology board, this reality bubble is going to pop in about four days. My mother is from Quebec. She taught me that when the universe fundamentally breaks and you are facing imminent existential erasure, the only appropriate word to use is tabarnak. Tabarnak. LOG ENTRY: DAY 214 (2) Okay, the initial panic attack has subsided. Mostly. I spent the last twenty minutes hyperventilating into a brown paper bag, which was highly undignified but biochemically necessary. Now, I have a whiteboard marker in my hand, and I am going to science the shit out of this. If I don’t get rescued by my own ingenuity, I’m dead anyway. Well, not dead. Just erased. Which, from my perspective, is functionally identical. Let's break down the problem into small, logical steps. Problem 1: A localized quantum decoherence wave is eating my house. Problem 2: I have no way to map the exact shape and speed of the collapse boundary. Problem 3: I am out of instant coffee. I will tackle Problem 3 first, because it is the only one I am currently equipped to solve. I rip open a new bag of freeze-dried dirt crystals, dump a scoop into a mug of lukewarm water, and chug it. Now, back to Problem 2. To figure out how to stop this reality collapse, I need data. The metrology board tells me the fine-structure constant has changed, and thermal sensors tell me the outer edges of the 10,000-ton heavy water tank are boiling. But I need to know exactly where the boundary is right now. I need to place localized quantum sensors at varying depths inside the heavy water tank. The issue is that DIDP wasn't built for a reality-overwrite scenario. The sensors I have are meant to be mounted rigidly to the lab's exterior hull. They aren't meant to be floated freely in thousands of gallons of water. To get accurate depth readings, I need custom, watertight buoyancy housings that can hover at exact calculated depths. And I can't exactly run to the hardware store. I survey my living quarters. It’s a pressurized cylinder roughly the size of a spacious mobile home. It’s packed with monitors, life support gear, and my personal belongings. My eyes land on a large, intricately constructed grey plastic ship sitting on my designated "recreation" desk. The 7,541-piece Ultimate Collector's Millennium Falcon. I let out a long, painful sigh. It took me three weeks to build that. I sorted the pieces meticulously. I watched all ten seasons of Stargate SG-1 while snapping those beautiful little bricks together. But LEGO bricks are manufactured to a tolerance of 10 micrometers. They are made of ABS plastic, which doesn't react with heavy water. I can snap them together to create modular, perfectly calculated volume displacements. They are literally the best precision engineering material I have in this bunker. "I’m sorry, Han," I whisper to a tiny plastic figurine. I begin dismantling the Falcon. It hurts my soul. Every snap-crack of parting plastic feels like a personal failure, but I sort the plates and bricks into neat piles. I need to create five sensor arrays. I calculate the required displacement. Heavy water ($D_2O$) has a density of $1.11 \text{ g/cm}^3$, which is about 11% denser than normal water. I run the math on a notepad: $F_b = \rho \cdot V \cdot g$ To achieve neutral buoyancy at specific depths, I need the LEGO housings to displace exactly the right amount of heavy water to counteract the weight of the sensor and the plastic itself. I spend the next four hours snapping bricks together, sealing the seams with a layer of waterproof resin from my suit repair kit. I embed a quantum sensor in the center of each grey, blocky sphere. They look less like high-tech metrology equipment and more like abstract, cubic Death Stars. I carry the five arrays into the small airlock that connects my living module to the heavy water tank. Normally, no one goes into the tank. It’s sealed. But there's a manual service hatch designed for robotic submersibles. I cycle the lock, crack the hatch, and the sharp smell of ozone hits me. I carefully release the five LEGO-housed sensors into the dark, freezing water. They bob for a second, then slowly sink, settling at their perfectly calculated depths. I seal the hatch and rush back to the main console. Data begins streaming in. I am officially mapping the edge of a reality collapse. The data confirms my worst fears. The boundary is a perfect sphere, slowly shrinking inward toward my lab. But there’s a blip in the data stream. Sensor 3—the one suspended exactly three meters from the outer edge—is transmitting garbage. I frown and tap the monitor. "Come on, little guy. Give me the Planck readings." The screen flickers. Suddenly, my vision swims. The dark metal walls of the DIDP lab dissolve into static. The low hum of the ventilation system vanishes, replaced by a jarring, terrifying sound: Birds. I am standing in a sunlit kitchen. The smell of fresh tourtière and brewing espresso hits me like a physical blow. I look down. I’m not wearing my DIDP lab jumpsuit. I’m wearing a blue flannel shirt. And a silver wedding band on my left ring finger. CHAPTER 2 submitted by /u/Ok_Kangaroo56 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

Spend any time in retro anime circles and you will absolutely get your ear chewed off about the glory days of anime OVAs. While most modern fans will know the format as something reserved for special one-off episodes that are usually packaged with Blu-Rays or manga volumes, the format has a much richer history dating back to its mass adoption in the 80s. It was popular during the bubble economy as a way to get around TV censors at a time when TV animation was much more heavily regulated, but started its slow march to irrelevancy in the 90s once the economy burst and people's wallets tightened up. I'm cutting a lot of history out here for brevity, but this format is a major factor in what made the 80s the "Golden Age of Anime" as espoused by many old-school fans of the medium. However, for everything this format did, a surprising few titles have actually remained in the zeitgeist, with only three titles from the 80s (Legend of the Galactic Heroes, Gunbuster, and Mobile Suit Gundam 0080: War in the Pocket) currently sitting on MAL's list of the Top 100 Highest Rated Anime OVAs. This sort of creates a bit of a paradox to the uninitiated viewer as it did for me, and without any answer to really satisfy me I set out last Summer to do the only thing I knew to do to get the authentic OVA experience: I was gonna watch them all. Every 80s OVA out there. That goal was... a little lofty, so I scaled it back to something more reasonable. I decided to pick a year, and I was going to watch everything I could from that year. I settled on 1985, as its the first year post-Dallos where there's a substantial amount of titles released in the format, so we're bound to get an... interesting batch of early adopters. That task might still seem wuite hefty, but there was a lot less anime releasing back then, even on the home video circuit. With most of these being 1-2 episodes at most, this isn't too difficult with enough resolve. So let's go over some ground rules and assumptions (and explain why there is an asterisk in the title): Since I use it already to track my anime viewing habits, I used AniList's list of 1985 OVAs as my reference here. Given how long ago it was, its certainly possible that some things aren't catalogued here, but for my own sanity let's assume this list to be complete (and I did cross reference MAL just to be safe). No porn. Man there's a lot of porn OVAs and I'm not watching them. That does keep me from being absolute, but I'm not gonna risk breaking sub rules just for them. I have to be able to find the OVA for me to watch it (obviously) and while I did dig pretty deep, ultimately (for reasons that will become apparent) I did have to let a few entries go here. This isn't as relevant to the list moving forward, but the reason this is coming out in Late-January and not early-September is because I also committed to watching any relevant TV anime that tied into the OVAs. This was also what kept me from acting on this idea sooner, but I found a year where the "homework" wasn't too terrible and could hope to be done by the end of the year (which also didn't happen lol). With that, AniList comes up with 35 titles in total, before checking for availability. Surprisingly, while some were easier to dig up than others, only 4 titles were unavailable in the places I checked, giving us a final total of 31 OVAs to rank here. The four that were left out were all re-edited recaps for Armored Trooper Votoms, The Wonderful Adventures of Nils and Super Dimension Century Orguss, so not a huge loss. If you are disappointed, don't worry. Plenty of recap specials still made the cut. With that lengthy intro over, I've got 31 entries to go over so let's hop right in... - 31. Twinkle NORA Rock Me! The OVA format is great, and produced a lot of gems that I hope to highlight here. It also led to... a lot of garbage. Some of which is so irreconcilably bad that it'll reconfigure your idea of what a 1/10 truly is. Most of them will have to brought up in later years if I choose to continue this adventure, but you can have a good taste here with an anime so bad it got its own dedicated kenny lauderdale video. Twinkle NORA Rock Me! is the sequel to the original Nora OVA that I'll talk about in a bit, and was almost certainly shat out to capitalize on the boom the format was experiencing at the time. It's the kind of awful that you really need to see for yourself. The story is largely nonsensical, the characters and sound design really bad, and the animation still somehow blows all of it out of the water. We're talking scenes where things don't contact one another like they should, plastic expressions, and, the cherry on top, entire sequences where I guess they just forgot to do the in-betweens. It all culminates in a dance sequence that should go down in infamy as one of the worst in all of anime, and there are some pretty bad ones. It is maybe salvaged barely by the art being not a complete headache to look at, but its far from saving this absolute dumpster fire of a production. 30. Creamy Mami: Lovely Serenade Creamy Mami was a magical series produced by Studio Pierrot back in the early 80s and is actually pretty solid. The characters are fun and the animation and music pretty good for the time. It's worth digging up if you're bored and what something different. Creamy Mami: Lovely Serenade, on the other hand, should stay buried. I'm maybe being a tad harsh here, and its still better than Twinkle NORA Rock Me!, but what this OVA amounts to is a glorified music video compiled from the series songs and footage. It's not even particularly clever in what it does and doesn't bother with much of a story at all. If you like Creamy Mami and yearn for full-length versions of the songs, I guess it might be worth digging up on YouTube, but the half-hour you'd spend watching it is better spent on other things. 29. Nora Given that Nora got a sequel, you'd think that maybe the franchise had any amount of meat to it, but you'd be very wrong. It's clear in retrospect that Filmlink International was really just finding anything they could use as material, and the mediocre Nora OVA is the result. Nora isn't as bad as its successor, but that's also maybe its biggest crime. It's a boring as sin and aggressively mediocre OVA that isn't bad enough to be as worth watching as its sequel. The animation and story are better here, but both are still below average. The world is dull and uninteresting and even our titular MC is a watered down version of the archetypical female action lead from better works. Watch it for the complete "Nora experience", or don't. Like this OVA it ultimately doesn't matter. 28. Genesis Climber Mospeada: Love, Live, Alive Genesis Climber Mospeada is a 1983 Gundam clone that is actually kinda fire if you're into this genre of show. Love, Live, Alive serves as a pseudo-sequel to the original, but really is just Lovely Serenade all over again. This music video compliation does at least have the sensibility to loosely tie everything into being a sort of epilogue for the original, and I do like the music a bit better than Lovely Serenade's basic 80s idol numbers, but that only gets it so far. It's still an OVA that exists more for money than any kind of artistic vision, which does happen a lot when you're a producer looking to make a quick buck off a new booming market. 27. What's Michael? What's Michael? is an OVA as confusing as its title. Based on a gag manga by the same name, the story follows the daily life of our titular tabby cat that's about half a decade too late to be Garfield. The joke is, apparently, that everyone has or knows a cat that does weird things like Michael does, but honestly just doesn't feel like it lands in the way it should. The jokes aren't good enough to really hold its own for an hour, the animation is middling, and the main cat is a little creepy. Someone not only penned a whole skit where Michael's owners get a young kitten to be Michael's "bride" only to be cockblocked because she's "too young", but also animated it and thought it was ok. Overall, the whole thing is just written like it thinks its funnier than it is, but maybe I'm the fool since it would go on to receive a second OVA and 45 episode TV anime in 1988. Must have been a success then. 26. Bavi Stock For this list I've decided to just include all of an OVA series under the entry for when its series started. Makes things a lot easier down the line, but does allow me to talk about one quirk of the OVA market that is somewhat unique to it. Nowadays when we watch these old OVAs, we treat them more or less like short TV anime, but that's not how you would have experienced them back in the day. Episodes usually released in batches of 1-3 episodes and could have year-long breaks in-between. This is why each episode (or batch) can feel fairly self-contained and is also why production values can vary so drastically across an entire OVA's run. Bavi Stock is a great example of this. The first episode is a decent enough Sci-Fi espionage plot with some fun designs and ideas, even if not a lot is explained in the process. The second episode is what puts it so low on this list. The animation is noticeably worse, and now its some kind of fantasy plot that lost me real quick with whatever bullshit was going on for 40 minutes. Characters are a lot dumber and it really feels like maybe they should have just cancelled to project instead of letting it get this bad. It's one of those things where you watch Ep. 1 and don't get the hate, then Ep. 2 starts and you get it. It's like Uzumaki but for old people and with a lot less hype. 25. Love Position Halley Densetsu Tezuka must have been smoking something in his later years. People remember him for Astro Boy and being this almost Disney like figure for anime before Miyazaki, but a lot of the lesser known stuff he created was pretty weird and all over the place quality-wise. Love Position Halley Densetsu is about a space government agent sent on Halley's Comet to take out a traitor who had arrived on the comet 76 years earlier only to decide to change his mind and live on Earth disguised as a Vietnamese girl (how queer). The whole thing is kind of a mess from the top down with middling production and some lackluster characters. I kind of want to like it more than I do, but I can't in good faith put it any higher. 24. Honoo no Alpen Rose The Alpen Rose OVA is the first of two recap OVAs that did manage to make the cut, and my advice for both is the same: just go watch the TV show. Alpen Rose is a 1985 anime about a Swiss girl who is looking to find the secrets of her past all while the world slowly descends into World War. Yes. That world war, though there is no Hitler to be found (I think). The show ran for 20 episodes and Honoo no Alpen Rose was a condensed two-hour cut of that series released on DVD. You could probably watch it and get what's going on sufficiently enough, but really it is just a step down from the original and available subbed in much lower quality, so why you would watch it is beyond me. 23. Dream Dimension Hunter Fandora DDHF is another story of a multi-episode OVA that should have just been one. The story follows the titular bounty hunter Fandora and her partner Que as they do bounty hunter things in the most 80s garb imaginable. The first episode does a good job of introducing their dynamic and characters and is a fun, if campy, time. Episode 2 is... a disaster, and while Ep. 3 cleans up its not much better. What staff credits we do have smell of a production that changed hands multiple times and the result is a final work where the writers can't seem to even settle on the basis of Fandora's character and what archetype she wants to be. The story does track a little better than Bavi Stock's and there are some decent enough ideas here if you look past all the bad writing and inconsistent designs, but maybe just treat it as a one and done deal. I promise this list gets better soon... 22. Chuuhai Lemon: LOVE 30S When I said every OVA, I meant every OVA. Chuuhai Lemon: LOVE 30S has 75 completed users on AniList and I am one of them. The only version of this one I could find was a RAW on YouTube and had to rely on auto-translated auto-generated subtitles to kind of figure out what was going on. That's how deep I am here. The procurement process aside, this one isn't terrible. It's probably better if you understand Japanese, but its a decent enough love story between a undercover cop and a young hooker. If it existed in a higher quality or subbed form I'd probably recommend searching it up if you're really bored, but other than that it finds its home here at the top of the bottom of the list. 21. Tongari Boushi no Memole: Marielle no Housekibako Ah man. I love Tongari Boushi no Memole. Maybe the single greatest find of mine during this process. It's got some absolutely fire background art and really charming characters with this classic European fairy tale style. I whole-heartedly recommend you dig it up. Marielle no Housekibako on the other hand, is that other recap OVA I mentioned, and likewise you should just go watch the TV series. It's got a couple spots over Alpen Rose as I do think the story its being carried by is a wee bit better, but overall is easily skipped in favor of the TV run of the show. 20. Fire Tripper Alright. Enough negativity. The Rumic World Trilogy is basically Tatsuki Fujimoto 17-26 but for Rumiko Takahashi, and Fire Tripper is an adaptation of one of the stories from that compilation work. The story follows a girl who gets caught up in a gas explosion and gets isekai'd to 500 years in the past where she meets an assertive young guy who helps her adjusted to the war-torn world she finds herself in. In other words, it's Inuyasha but less polished. Fire Tripper definitely suffers from Takahashi's inexperience at the time, but you do get to see some of her talent shine through even if crude at times. It's an interesting enough piece to warrant watching off of that, but if you're not familiar with Takahashi for some reason is maybe not the best intro into her world. For a modern comparison, it's like "Shikaku" but with far less money thrown into its production and also for old people. 19. Kimagure Orange Road TV Pilot Before there was Kimagure Orange Road there was the TV pilot, and it sure is something. I'm not a big KOR fan in general, so what amounts to an alternative version to an episode about halfway through the story doesn't necessarily interest me, but is worth checking it out on the novelty of having Madoka voiced by Shinobu Miyake and Yuri from Dirty Pair VA Saeko Shimazu. I don't have much else to say on it. If you need more KOR, this will do and it is a fun novelty, but is a more functional piece of media than one worth watching nowadays. 18. Creamy Mami: Long Goodbye Creamy Mami's TV run committed the ultimate franchise crime of having a fairly definitive ending, making producing more content a little difficult. That didn't stop Lovely Serenade from happening, but luckily the other CM OVA from 1985 faired a little better. Long Goodbye is a worthy add to the Creamy Mami canon and a fitting epilogue to the original. Yuu finds that she can suddenly transform into Mami again, but only during the day, and gets wrapped up in a movie production while trying to figure out why she suddenly has the power again. It's got some fun visuals and is a nice look into the aftermath of the events of the main story and how the cast is not only coping without Mami, but also how they handle her magically appearing in it once again. Worth watching once you've finished up the TV series (which I know y'all have at least on your planning list, right?) 17. COSMO POLICE Justy Justy is the other side of Love Densetsu in the sense that I want to hate it more than I do. The story follows our titular cosmo police officer who finds himself as the guardian of a young amnesiac girl who, unbeknownst to her, had sworn to take revenge on Justy after he killed her criminal father in front of her eyes. This OVA has a lot of random 80s Sci-Fi bullshit, which is maybe why I like it, and the characters are a little on the weaker end, but the story does hold itself together remarkably well. The way it handles its central drama is interesting enough to excuse some of the weaker bits, and with a little more elbow grease could maybe have made for something worthy of a higher spot. Still, it is a fun and I've had its banger ED by Miki Asakura on my playlist for months now. 16. Dream Hunter REM Dream Hunter REM is a weird little title that pretty perfectly encapsulates this early period of the OVA format. The first episode actually did originate as a hentai, but was ultimately recut into a more general audience-friendly version when the team behind it realized they had something pretty solid here. DHR follows our titular moe hero who has the power to go into the dream world to fight dream demons. The OVA was successful enough to see Rem cameo in multiple other franchises and release two more OVAs in 1990 and 1992 respectively as well as also getting a dedicate kenny lauderdale video. It's easy to see why as the designs are quite charming and the mix of its darker monster designs with Rem's more moe design is a winning combo. I do wish the franchise had maybe gotten a little more off the ground and solidified its legacy and concept in something a little longer, but for what we did get, it is well worth the watch. 15. Ginga Hyouryuu Vifam: Kieta 12-nin I was a little disingenuous calling Mospeada a "Gundam clone" but less so levying the same title to Round Vernian Vifam. Of all the shows I had to dig up for my "homework" here, this is maybe the one I liked the least. It's characters just don't have the same charm of that original Gundam roster and it never really finds its own identity. It did get two OVAs in 1985 though, and the first of which draws the short straw. This one is basically an Alien-esque side story taking place during the main run of Vifam that blends its genre well even if its production and characters hold it back from going too much higher. If you're one of the two remaining Vifam fans out there, it's not a bad watch and I'd certainly recommend it more emphatically if I liked Vifam more. 14. Ginga Hyouryuu Vifam: Keito no Kioku - Namida no Dakkai Sakusen The second Vifam OVA takes place after the events of the show. It doesn't have the benefits of a second genre like the first, but it is a little more in-line with the tone of the series and fills its role well. The cast reunites with a former ally to find that she's developed amnesia and the crew works to try to jog her memory before they have to part once again. There's a surprising few moments of lucidity here with a light smattering of interesting themes and a bittersweet ending, that is honestly a better way to leave off the series than I can think of. Definitely better than I thought it would be. 13. Dirty Pair: Affair of Nolandia Dirty Pair is one of those quintessentially 80s franchises that (in my humble opinion) is usually good but rarely great. The cast is great, but it always seems to fall just short of committing to that Project A-Ko-esque lunacy that it seems to want to be remembered as. Affair of Nolandia should in theory give them the time and budget to really commit to that, but... uh... not really. AoN amounts to basically an extended TV episode, which for the Lovely Angels Dirty Pair isn't bad and still comfortably cruises into 13th, but on its own stands out fairly weakly without the gravitas that it certainly yearns for. Take that as you will. I still liked it, but I want to like it more. 12. The Chocolate Panic Picture Show Ah man. Maybe don't look up the poster for this one. I promise its actually pretty solid. The Chocolate Panic Picture Show is an interesting piece of anime history, serving as the first non-DAICON work by the team that would go on to form Gainax. It's a bit of a nonsense mix of dialogue-less vignettes but as some really fun ideas brewing in that madness. If you've seen those DAICON opening animations, it's basically more of that. There's some really wonderful visuals across the piece, making the most of what it has in what would go on to be the "GAINAX way". Jury is still out though as to whether this one involved as much tax evasion. 11. Greed I like Greed more than I should. It's a fantasy series about our MC going out to defeat the evil that engulfs the world to avenge his father. The writing is a little frantic in a "blink and you'll miss it" kind of way and it could use some idea trimming here and there, but that's what I love about it. There's something in how this OVA just throws everything it can at you that is endearing in light of the current state of the genre. It never stops being interesting, and the result is a pretty serviceable story set in a pretty good world even if it is a bit disjointed in places. I'm not going to say everyone will like Greed like I do, but this is my list at the end of the day. Watch it and report back to me. 10. Lunn wa Kaze no Naka You know, for as much as I talked down Tezuka, I will say that some of these stories are the right brand of weird to hit their mark. Lunn wa Kaze no Naka was surprisingly solid. It follows the story of a boy who falls in love with a sentient poster, and if that sounds like something that appeals to you, then you know what to do. There's some pretty fun animation cuts and background art here, and the story is surprisingly meaty enough with the way it chooses to explore its downright absurd plot. This one's got only about 500 members on AniList and in a way that kind of feels like a crime. Definitely worth checking out for yourself if you're down for it. 9. Fight!! Iczer-1 Two of this OVAs top tags are "Cosmic Horror" and "Yuri", so basically its a cosmic horror yuri action series with designs that just scream "peak 80s anime". It's got mechs. It's got lesbians. It's got aliens. It's got the whole goddamn kitchen sink. While maybe a bit of a mess to pin down and inconsistent in the writing department, Fight!! Iczer-1 is maybe the series to watch if you want to figure out if 80s OVAs are for you. The manic nature of it is part of the appeal, as it combines elements in a way you really don't get much of these days. The cosmic horror elements blend surprisingly well in with everything and the production is real clean from its boards to its lighting and color. If you've read this far and haven't seen Fight!! Iczer-1 then just make it a priority. You won't be disappointed. 8. Armored Trooper Votoms: The Last Red Shoulder Armored Trooper Votoms is the kind of show retro otaku won't shut up about and I can certainly see why. I mean... I think it is maybe a little overblown, but I can see the appeal and the franchise was quite the force back in the 80s. The Last Red Shoulder takes place between the action of the main series and has about everything you can ask out of an entry in this franchise. It's essentially an extended TV episode, but with some buttery production and cool as ice characters can mostly hold itself over enough to land a high rank here. I do think Votoms characters can leave a lot to be desired at times, but that's just me and this OVA does handle it fairly well. 7. Karuizawa Syndrome I will say, after watching more OVAs than most ever will, there is something to the appeal of the format and how so many artists made something interesting out of their contributions, even if the entirety of the project might not have been as polished as a lot of newer shows. Karuizawa Syndrome follows a lecherous photographer who has trouble keeping it in is pants. The story follows his misadventures trying to dodge pregnancy scares and the consequences of his actions. It is a rather fun self-contained story that jumps around between a few styles and can be a little erratic with its plot progression, but some smooth boards and color design pull it all together into a piece that maybe deserves more eyes on it than it does. Definitely feels worthy of sitting up here with a lot of the better options on this list. 6. Area 88 Do you like Top Gun? Then watch Area 88. Our story follows a mercenary pilot who, through a series of unfortunate events, gets dragged into a war zone where his only means to escape his current hell is to rack up enough money to buy his way out or die trying. All roads lead back to the fabled Area 88 and if the enemy pilots don't get you, the desert conditions will. This is 80s anime machismo at some of its most machismo, and while it is cucked a little by a tantalizingly small runtime (and the TV anime two decades later doesn't really land the same appeal), with some of the best dogfights you'll see in anime (but not the best in 1985 funnily enough) it is something that deserves its spot this high and among a list of "OVA royalty". 5. Megazone 23 Dallos might have been the first accepted OVA, but Megazone 23 was the one that kicked the format into overdrive. It's got sex appeal, it's got 80s air, it's got random ahh dance sequences, it has cool motorcycles. What more could you want? The story follows a young biker who gets on the wrong side of the law after coming into possession of a new, top secret prototype motorcycle. Where the plot goes from there is worth going in blind for. Megazone 23 just exudes style in every frame and rightly showed what the format could do when given the ability to cook. It's 80s-styled Sci-fi future is a little silly in retrospect, but brings with it a ton of charm that makes it a very easy watch and series to rec out. Don't mess too much with the sequels, but the original is worth the price of admission. 4. Urusei Yatsura - OVA Series This is just more Urusei Yatsura that is also canon enough that you do need to watch it before finishing the movies. Not quite as fun as the absolute vibe that was Oshii's Yatsura, but even non-Oshii Yatsura is still mighty fine. Clocking in at 11 episodes it can be a little inconsistent across its run, but nothing too terrible to not scratch that itch that I've had in me ever since completing the original run of the show a few years back. 3. Leda: The Fantastic Adventures of Yohko Beginning our podium series we've got one of my favorite isekai of all-time. There's nothing quite like that perfectly dated concept of a girl who fails to give the guy she loves her mixtape and then has her Walkman stolen through a magic portal and has to go to fantasyland to get it back. The design and color work in this OVA are just so delicious, especially the robots and other colorful critters of Ashanti. It's the kind of fantasy story that's very easy to get lost in for an hour, and with a fun cast keeps you there for more than just the visuals alone. The juice is well worth the squeeze and if you need a fantasy "pick me up" then give this one a try. 2. Magical Princess Minky Momo: La Ronde in my Dream After all the franchise works I've discussed so far, I was not expecting the Minky Momo OVA of all things to cut this deep. Momo as a franchise has quite the reputation (subject to one more kenny lauderdale video for the road), but is itself a mostly formulaic and serviceable magical girl show from the early 80s. It did clean its act up a lot for its 90s reboot, but before then gave us La Ronde in my Dream which had no right going this hard. La Ronde in my Dream seems to understand the appeal of Momo more than the series itself does, and fully commits to being this funny spectacle piece that embraces what Momo is and runs with it. Our story follows Momo as she tries to save her parents from a mysterious island that turn all adults that enter it to kids and ends on Momo fighting off the world government with an army of toys. Peak shit. This otherwise unassuming OVA is teeming with some really great cuts that feel like the animators just ran with every idea they could think of. The result is almost certain to draw a smile on your face and also beats out Area 88 for having the single best dog fight in all of anime. So many of these cuts are still so impressive to this day, and stand as a good example of what happens when you let magical girl shows take the ankle weights off just once. If I had a nickel for every magical girl show with themes about dreams that was an absolute gem, I'd have quite a few at this point. Producers take notes. 1. Angel's Egg 31 entries later, we finally reach the end of the list and the game was always rigged from the start. 1985 was a bit inconsistent at times when it came to OVAs, but at its peak was fully of out there and interesting ideas that couldn't quite find room on network TV at the time, and its easy to see going through it why the format was maintained so many fans even 40 years later. The title of best OVA of 1985 would ultimately go to the same guy that helped kickstart the format back in 1983. So basically it was kind of cheating. Angel's Egg isn't for everyone, but with its recent 4k restoration is something that everyone should try and see at least once. Insane animation quality, oppressive atmosphere, and some of the rawest stream of conscious storytelling this medium as to offer culminate in what might just be Mamoru Oshii's magnum opus. Picking up the scraps of a failed Lupin script, Oshii crafts a one of a kind story about faith and belief that keeps you coming back time and time again to try to parse its every theme and scene. Even if you just want to vibe, the impeccable backgrounds and animation make it such an easy film to get lost in and one that I will, rather predictably, glaze until the cows come home. Maybe not for everyone, but for my list it's the one for me. - With that, I finally wrap up every OVA from 1985 (at least that's on AniList). That's it. That's all of them. Some are obviously better than others, but its always fine to dig through the discarded scraps of the zeitgeist and find those gems that make the grind worth it. Hopefully this can get some more eyes on some lesser known OVAs, and I might just continue this into later years if I ever get bored. One day getting to say I've watched every 80s OVAs series would be pretty sweet, though for now I do need a break cause this can take a lot out of you. I guess I'm really bad at ending one of these in a way that doesn't sound like a YouTube essay script, so do let me know down below what some of your favorite OVAs are and if I'm overselling or underselling any of the names here. Also, go watch La Ronde in my Dream. It's got under 500 completions on AniList and should be higher. I need more people to gush over it to. You won't be disappointed. submitted by /u/Salty145 to r/anime [link] [comments]

1.At the very beginning of 2025 we felt a shift with the Stewart family… fresh off a trip to Dubai, ditching anything Boutique related, churning out daily mini-vlogs and weekly full length videos and announcing a 3rd baby was on the way… it was obvious they were leveling up. I don’t think anyone expected the trajectory they are ending the year on. They no longer hide what happens behind the scenes, openly talking about filming schedules and editing content… they don’t hide the fact that both parents are constantly filming so that the content is caught from every angle… and along the way we all realized that education is an afterthought, their children are truly employees, that the dark web doesn’t exist to them because it’s all just content. We heard Carlin talk about core memories and tearing up and crying and being so in love and God knows we all have heard about her post-partum journey. Evan has centered himself as the family narrator, leading the vlogs, filming even when he shouldn’t, pretending to be the world’s greatest dad and a husband every woman dreams of. So… what will 2026 bring for these goobers? They are going to move into a cavernous warehouse of a home. They will surely lure as many Bates as possible over to film, spend nights in the pool house and do manual labor in exchange for any freebies Carlin may throw their way. They will travel, they will exploit medical appointments and continue to create ClickBates titles to lure in viewers… but will the bubble burst? Will Layla finally learn to walk, brush her teeth and sleep in her own bed? I mean, first grade is looming for most children her age. She is constantly being subtitled these days, and has learned a new trick of doing somersaults to keep dad’s camera trained on her. She continues to be exploited while she is at dance class… she can’t concentrate because she is forever looking between the instructor and mommy’s camera. Will Zade stop scream talking? Will he actually get a Kindergarten DVD instead of endless hours watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse? Suddenly Carlin and Evan are concerned about his hearing. In the latest update on Zade’s speech they tell us that the Speech Therapist didn’t want to continue working with Zade because he was doing just fine… but that Carlin insisted. Yes, Carlin, the same person who constantly mocks her son’s speech and uses baby talk to communicate with him. It was also Hero Carlin (and not the hundreds and hundreds of comments) who noticed him constantly screaming and thought his hearing should be tested. Evan says he was a loud kid so Zade is probably just taking after him. Another comment by the thumb that proves absolutely no one should look to him for investment/financial/child rearing/ANY advice. Dude is not smart. The Stewarts know that all of their house buying business is public knowledge, and they can’t stomach the fact that folks know they have a mortgage. To combat this, we get lots of footage of Evan running around dropping off checks to contractors. See? They have plenty of cash. The mortgage is just to help their portfolio. This house is sounding more and more like a money pit. They have had foundation work… which would stop any discerning home buyer in their tracks. They also talk about water damage/moisture problems… another BIG issue for most buyers. They’ve torn up brick, cement… have to refinish floors and basically gutted the outdated kitchen. All of that plus there is a pool house built on top of a 2 car garage that is all unfinished. They bought the place for a million... and the amount to make it livable for them just keeps rising. Seems like quite a price to pay so Carlin can pretend to be the Queen of Powell. This has required them to work non-stop and when they aren't working… these people are shopping. In almost every one of their 13 daily vlogs they have gone shopping. They are forever in a store, a mall, or you see packages piled at their door. Not one time have they mentioned doing anything for anyone except themselves. You can see the greed bubbling over in Evan’s beady eyes. You know what else they don’t talk about much? God. Christ. Jesus. I mean, unless it’s showing off their church fits or Evan is bragging about a solo he paid to torture the parishioners with… there just is no way to know that these people are Christians. They aren’t going to Evan’s family’s Christmas this year. Probably because they can’t film. They plan to stay at the home studio so they can exploit the kids, who won’t get paid overtime. Get ready because 2026 is coming… Carlin is going to hit 1 million followers on the Gram… and momma needs to pay these interior designers so that means Layla won’t get a day off until her parents head out on their first (sponsored) solo trip. The Clark family started 2025 with a big secret. Travis was attending online classes to finally learn all of the basic knowledge he was denied as a child who was forced to attend his parent’s fake school. Once he had all of his basics under his belt… they were ready to let the world in on the big secret that he was going to become a nurse. The only thing that changed was the size of the bags under dude’s eyes and the amount of time he could spend away from his wife and kids. Travis continues to be the only nursing student who still manages to be a full time influencer, and show up all over the east coast like he’s a lady of leisure. Katie and Travis share lots of New Jersey content when they visit for Thanksgiving break. They run a 5k that Katie says everyone hated and head out to their annual ice skating. Travis says Katie is taking a “One year break from skating”. Katie immediately says people will think she is pregnant but she is NOT pregnant. In fact though, most of her content lately has been her eating, wearing loose fitting clothes and screeching at the camera that she isn’t expecting. Doth protest too much?? On the way home, they make an interesting stop… they meet up with Lawson in a gas station parking lot. Again. What’s going on with these 3 that we are missing? Why is Lawson always meeting up with them late at night in random parking lots? He gets in the car with them before the video ends… he’s on the front and Katie is shoved in the back. Could Travis be editing for Lawson? Travis does mention that Lawson’s vlogs are like watching some high energy kid’s show. Drag him Trav! Katie spends so much time alone in her house that she’s started heading to the big house to hang out with Momma B. Travis does get to go golf with Evan late night at a simulator but Katie doesn’t see Carlin… doesn’t mention Josie… she’s just alone with her kids. They go viral with a reel featuring Travis being the most amazing daddy to Hailey. Hailey pulls in 10 million plus views. Travis’ biggest music reel has 1.5 million views. See? That’s why their kids continue to be front and center. Katie and Travis celebrate their 4th anniversary with a table full of gifts and some fake hugs for the camera. 4 years of exploiting children and wallowing in vapid consumerism. Happy anniversary babe! Katie lands a deal with a counter top robot stove that costs nearly $300 and has a subscription service for frozen meals. She cooks chicken and freeze dried rice as if she’s Julia Child. They do explain their sudden love of Santa. After avoiding his name like the plague previously, Travis says they have decided Santa can be just like the Disney Princesses and he doesn’t care who disagrees. Katie jumps in to explain that gifts come from Mom and Dad but Santa is just a character. Oh. I didn’t know. Also, they take a minute to thank their followers for helping them buy a house this year. They very pointedly say their home is perfect for their family. They love it, it’s cozy, it’s just enough for them. Mmmm-Hmmm…. Are you picking up what they are throwing down? 3.Josie Balka started the year having her back blown out on a cruise ship and ends it… predictably… giving birth. Baby #4, a boy named Brooks, makes his debut on December 6 and momma did it without an epidural, squatting on a bed in full glam wearing a pool noodle on her head. After doing this 3 times in quick succession, she finally found the right mixture and every reel she drops goes viral with over a million views. Her follower count has grown by at least 25,000 in 10 days. The algorithm loves a Trad Wife. Josie definitely has a birth fetish and romanticizes every part of delivery… right down to ole square head Ktron doing his best Evan Stewart impression preparing her pads and numbing spray post-delivery. Baby Brooks requires NICU care due to Josie’s complicated medical condition but that just means more content can be served up. Josie films in the NICU, in the labor room, post labor room and at home her first night back with the kids. Meanwhile, at the house Willow and Hazel pick up the slack in some pre-recorded canned content. The Balka girls and baby Miles are being exploited more now than ever before. Ellie is in charge of the older 3 and her public IG chronicles the adventures in babysitting while mommy and daddy are away. Sister-in-law and best friend Lydia is the grand prize winner in the “who will get to film” sweepstakes. None of her sisters, or her mother even, are allowed in until the baby is born. Lydia is the only one to even share any baby content besides Michael who posts that she is overjoyed. Josie has shared just about every aspect of pregnancy except where this new baby is going to… BE. Miles is already stuffed in what they call the nursery, and the girls are cramped up in a little room sharing a trundle bed. Josie’s bedroom and bathroom are usually her studio… filled with clothes, shoes and every beauty product ever created. Don’t they own a camper? Maybe the baby’s nursery will be in that. 4.January 2026 will mark one whole year since Alyssa Webster got ticked off, quit YouTube and turned off commenting on all of her social media. Of course about 3 months after that she was back to share some lame-o camping trip they took in a family member’s backyard… but that’s beside the point. She’s been pouting for basically 12 whole months now, only stopping long enough to sob over Charlie Kirk, and dress in dated prom gowns for various Conservative functions. Besides all of that she is still able to score free dresses from the Mormon chicks and so she has to show those off. Man, those dresses are so terrible. I know these fundamentalists love to suffer so I guess these dresses help with that. It’s the stiffest, itchiest fabric while still being slick and thin and wrinkly and always just the most garish patterns. Think grandma’s curtains meets Jessica McClintock or thrift store table cloth mixed with 1981 formal living room. Yesh. The girls have to wear this stuff, and they have to smile while doing it. John is always in some cheap, too short tie and little Rhett is always just… there. Usually in the sad hat. The Webster fam lines up for Thanksgiving pictures, Sunday go to meeting pictures and Christmas tree pictures. They are all filtered into oblivion and posted with some lifeless, meaningless AI caption. Girl is really doing the least. But… she did manage to head to the farm for a trip to see Janie. And of course she’s going to post about that and exploit her children while also managing to exploit her elderly grandmother. They seem to have gone to the farm the second the rest of the Bates headed back to Tennessee and the big reason for this trip was that… Alyssa got a new pair of boots. After complaining that she had the same pair from when she was 16 either super fan Tikki came through, or John got a bonus because Alyssa is feeling herself in her new kicks. Unlike Kane Brown, she only has the one pair but still manages to wear them with every outfit and has Allie take her picture posing with her leg thrown out all over the farm. The shot in the midst of the cow poop is my personal fav. I don’t even have to tell you that the girls spend the whole week on the farm in those same damn orange fake leather, zip on the side, ankle booties. God I hope someone has a growth spurt soon so at least one pair can move out of the rotation. 5.In 2025 the Bates clan positioned Zach Bates as the new patriarch. Gil who? Zach has his little siblings staying at his house constantly, he is teaching them to drive, he is hosting and planning family get togethers, filming conversations with Kelly, giving fatherly advice to those out of town, grilling and chilling and camping and scouting out houses for all of his siblings while helping build housing for others. Zach has stories to tell and he will force you to listen. Just ask anyone who tries to join him in his kitchen. He will talk over you, around you and through you. The latest victim is Whitney who shows up to peel potatoes and laugh at his corny jokes. Yes, they make a 20 minute vlog all about mashed potatoes. It has 3 ingredients and a 12 minute tutorial of him showing how to cut a potato. I want to scream “what does it matter?? You’re boiling and mashing them into oblivion man….” Anyway, they show some behind the scenes at the Boutique just before it closes. Zach and Whitney join Evan and Carlin to stand around and observe while the siblings do all of the hard work cleaning up and moving out. Addee says her car is full to the brim with clothes and Ellie takes a ton of stuff as well. Gil, Kelly, JebJud and Warden are all there to help wrap it up and to gladly take every last clothespin left behind. Whitney is back to selling lollipops that supposedly heal strep throat and shows off some gristle turd meat on a plate that she doesn’t eat but says you should, thanks to a meal subscription service. She is still selling that protein shake but just features the 12 pack this time instead of gagging herself on film trying to demonstrate how much she loves it. Their family of 7 heads to the mall to meet the Stewarts for a movie and Zach has to back out of the parking garage because he has that pop up camper strapped to the top of the Denali. I wish they would reverse out of exploiting their kids and lying on film in 2026 as fast as he skedaddles away from Carlin after that movie date. 6.Trace and Lydia Bates have had quite a 2025. They have rearranged that square they live in more times than I can count, but it seems they will be looking for more storage solutions as a new year dawns because so far… they still don’t have a house. I wonder why God doesn’t drop one in their lap the way he saw fit to do for Evan and Carlin. That crazy silly God… always pulling tricks. Some people get million dollar homes and some people can’t get a green card. Oops…moving on. Lydia is now fully in charge of pretty much everything in this home and Trace just bumbles around avoiding all responsibility. While Lydia runs away to a coffee shop to edit videos for their sole source of income… Trace takes the kids to the big house so his little siblings and mom can care for them. Man the big house just never disappoints. It is always, always a random disaster… unless of course there happens to be a surprise sleepover for 40 happening. Then, it’s amazingly clean. The front door is beat all to hell and the porch is loaded with every metal shelving unit from BSB. Inside the trash is just everywhere. Literal trash is on the floor, the couches, toys are strewn around everywhere, there’s dust, crud, smears… it makes me itch. Trace flops down on the stained up old couch that has been there since the reality show began, and starts to narrate what’s happening around him. Obviously he doesn’t do a great job because Lydia has started adding captions to the clips to correct or fill out the story. Baby Kaia is old enough now at 6 months to be stuck in that walker for 20 hours a day just like Ryker. While she rolls around the big house she is chased by Hailey Clark who shows up with Harvey and Katie. Kelly is in the kitchen, noodle in her hair, cooking away. Something that really caught my attention… Kelly Jo was cooking bacon. REAL bacon. Not turkey bacon like they always, always cooked/ate on their reality show. I know Zach and Evan have both cooked real bacon but to see it in the big house with the matriarch cooking it… really makes me wonder. No pork was a big Gothard/IBLP rule. Lydia shares her excitement over being chosen to attend Josie’s birth. She films and types out a love letter to Josie calling her a phenomenal mother. Lydia also gifts Josie a beige basket full of beige gifts. Lydia really has been light on content. Maybe they have been busy house shopping, or maybe she was busy helping Josie. I certainly hope she doesn’t have morning sickness. That would be crazy…. Right?? 7.Michael and Brandon Keilen kicked off 2025 by announcing they were going to change up their YouTube content, share a vlog every other week and planned a huge trip to Alaska for their 10th wedding anniversary in August. The only thing that happened out of all of those plans was that he did stop creepy coloring with his nieces and nephews on film. Otherwise… the year went sideways and the trip to Alaska was postponed when they decided to become foster parents. Michael was the first sibling to congratulate Josie on the birth of her baby. She also shared pictures from Thanksgiving at the farm with Jane. In a new vlog they explain that Brandon went to Michigan alone for Thanksgiving because his sister was getting engaged. What follows is a long, boring story of how the engagement happened in a state house building and how Brandon had to wear a “cool guy tourist” outfit to fool his sister so he could secretly film the whole thing. Whatever. Michael says the boys were with her at the farm and that they will all go together to Michigan for Christmas and be able to stay for a longer time. She hasn’t mentioned anything about how temporary this situation is in a while. It’s interesting that the boys are with them… and only them… for all of the big holidays… and are even able to travel out of state. Michael says how much she has loved this year having the boys in her home. Brandon still doesn’t seem quite as thrilled as Michael and just says it has been “an adjustment”. Michael gets choked up talking about it and Brandon awkwardly tries to comfort her and that’s how they wrap up the vlog. Of course they are swamped with comments from folks saying they “deserve” to adopt these boys and that they are praying they get to adopt them. That’s a touchy subject and people say the stupidest things. 8.Erin Paine is spending every waking minute directing her beef fat operation from her perch at the end of her kitchen table. She’s making sure Chad, Carles and all of the little Paines keep that Kitchen-Aid mixer whirring away and those jars stuffed to the brim with ooey, gooey beef lard packed full of MLM oils to satiate the masses. Fundies and Christian Nationalists just love to coat themselves in some good old animal fat and to make sure she stays top of mind… Erin mails PR packages to all of the top TradWives. One of them features her product and manages that wonderful Southern Baptist backhanded compliment by saying how “lovely” Erin’s product is while also saying she had NO clue Erin made Tallow and has sooo many friends who are already making it. Ouch. Even with Chad working harder than he ever worked under his phony construction business, Erin still can’t keep the stuff in stock and has to wait list folks right at Christmas. Maybe she shouldn’t have sent out so many jars for free. If she’d only speak to Carlin, she could take some lessons on how to get by without giving anything to anybody ever. In other news, Ellie has been to visit and the Paine fam participated in their church’s Living Bethlehem program. Erin was allowed to hammer down on the piano to her heart’s content and the kids showed up in their normal clothes which worked great for their roles as shepherds. We don’t know if they will spend Christmas with Tori’s family in the Smokey Mountains again this year, but we do know Chad’s repaired Advent Calendar is filled full of marginally fun things that the kids will almost love doing every day until Santa Claus doesn’t arrive. Happy Hollydays! 9.Tiffy Bates is still pregnant… maybe. The timeline for Lawson and Tiffany is so backwards and screwed up, it’s hard to say. Esther and Nathan were in town a week ago for what Tiffany called “baby watch”, but then Esther showed them flying out of Knoxville to Las Vegas. Lawson popped up in Katie’s vlog to say that by the time the vlog was posted, the baby would be here… yet their stories have shown them chilling out at home with baby Will. Will is becoming a pro at smiling, laughing and waving “bye bye”…. He learned quickly that if he just complies, then dad won’t cause him to suffer from shaken baby syndrome. Tiffany and Lawson promised multiple vlogs and have only dropped 2 so far. They haven’t shared an update in weeks, but it seems her due date is Christmas Day, so she still has a week and a half to go. Or not… no one knows. We do get a quick sighting of Duke the Dog. He lives exclusively in the backyard, but gets his fair share of being exploited when Lawson scores a paid ad from a dog food brand. Tiffany talks to the camera while sitting in the nursery and says the baby’s name is right in front of the viewer’s face…people guess John or Gilvin… or maybe Espensen… but really with these 2, the kid could be named CRIB or CARPET… or Tiffathon?? I am sure we will find out sometime in the next 6 months. I sure hope the Red Flag Guy is ready. 10.Bits and Bytes….Trace says he is encouraging Kelly to start her own YouTube. He says she should start by sharing on IG. Where has he been? Kelly Jo hawks yet another product that she isn’t paid for… it’s a set of high dollar frying pans and they may not be sending her a check, but she certainly got free product and she happily shares the link…Esther continues to document her workouts and she also shows off pics and videos from their time in Vegas…Evan and Carlin are installing a new fancy automated gate. One thing they can’t replace? The huge electrical wires and transmitters looming right over their house. Tell us again about how desirable this place is…During the kids walk through of the house Zade takes a hard fall opening a closet door and Layla knocks herself out cold while jumping in a low celing closet… concussions all around! Have a great week friends. If you are like me and in charge of all of the Holly and the Jolly… Godspeed. We are almost there! submitted by /u/dixcgirl10 to r/BatesSnark [link] [comments]

1.At the very beginning of 2025 we felt a shift with the Stewart family… fresh off a trip to Dubai, ditching anything Boutique related, churning out daily mini-vlogs and weekly full length videos and announcing a 3rd baby was on the way… it was obvious they were leveling up. I don’t think anyone expected the trajectory they are ending the year on. They no longer hide what happens behind the scenes, openly talking about filming schedules and editing content… they don’t hide the fact that both parents are constantly filming so that the content is caught from every angle… and along the way we all realized that education is an afterthought, their children are truly employees, that the dark web doesn’t exist to them because it’s all just content. We heard Carlin talk about core memories and tearing up and crying and being so in love and God knows we all have heard about her post-partum journey. Evan has centered himself as the family narrator, leading the vlogs, filming even when he shouldn’t, pretending to be the world’s greatest dad and a husband every woman dreams of. So… what will 2026 bring for these goobers? They are going to move into a cavernous warehouse of a home. They will surely lure as many Bates as possible over to film, spend nights in the pool house and do manual labor in exchange for any freebies Carlin may throw their way. They will travel, they will exploit medical appointments and continue to create ClickBates titles to lure in viewers… but will the bubble burst? Will Layla finally learn to walk, brush her teeth and sleep in her own bed? I mean, first grade is looming for most children her age. She is constantly being subtitled these days, and has learned a new trick of doing somersaults to keep dad’s camera trained on her. She continues to be exploited while she is at dance class… she can’t concentrate because she is forever looking between the instructor and mommy’s camera. Will Zade stop scream talking? Will he actually get a Kindergarten DVD instead of endless hours watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse? Suddenly Carlin and Evan are concerned about his hearing. In the latest update on Zade’s speech they tell us that the Speech Therapist didn’t want to continue working with Zade because he was doing just fine… but that Carlin insisted. Yes, Carlin, the same person who constantly mocks her son’s speech and uses baby talk to communicate with him. It was also Hero Carlin (and not the hundreds and hundreds of comments) who noticed him constantly screaming and thought his hearing should be tested. Evan says he was a loud kid so Zade is probably just taking after him. Another comment by the thumb that proves absolutely no one should look to him for investment/financial/child rearing/ANY advice. Dude is not smart. The Stewarts know that all of their house buying business is public knowledge, and they can’t stomach the fact that folks know they have a mortgage. To combat this, we get lots of footage of Evan running around dropping off checks to contractors. See? They have plenty of cash. The mortgage is just to help their portfolio. This house is sounding more and more like a money pit. They have had foundation work… which would stop any discerning home buyer in their tracks. They also talk about water damage/moisture problems… another BIG issue for most buyers. They’ve torn up brick, cement… have to refinish floors and basically gutted the outdated kitchen. All of that plus there is a pool house built on top of a 2 car garage that is all unfinished. They bought the place for a million... and the amount to make it livable for them just keeps rising. Seems like quite a price to pay so Carlin can pretend to be the Queen of Powell. This has required them to work non-stop and when they aren't working… these people are shopping. In almost every one of their 13 daily vlogs they have gone shopping. They are forever in a store, a mall, or you see packages piled at their door. Not one time have they mentioned doing anything for anyone except themselves. You can see the greed bubbling over in Evan’s beady eyes. You know what else they don’t talk about much? God. Christ. Jesus. I mean, unless it’s showing off their church fits or Evan is bragging about a solo he paid to torture the parishioners with… there just is no way to know that these people are Christians. They aren’t going to Evan’s family’s Christmas this year. Probably because they can’t film. They plan to stay at the home studio so they can exploit the kids, who won’t get paid overtime. Get ready because 2026 is coming… Carlin is going to hit 1 million followers on the Gram… and momma needs to pay these interior designers so that means Layla won’t get a day off until her parents head out on their first (sponsored) solo trip. The Clark family started 2025 with a big secret. Travis was attending online classes to finally learn all of the basic knowledge he was denied as a child who was forced to attend his parent’s fake school. Once he had all of his basics under his belt… they were ready to let the world in on the big secret that he was going to become a nurse. The only thing that changed was the size of the bags under dude’s eyes and the amount of time he could spend away from his wife and kids. Travis continues to be the only nursing student who still manages to be a full time influencer, and show up all over the east coast like he’s a lady of leisure. Katie and Travis share lots of New Jersey content when they visit for Thanksgiving break. They run a 5k that Katie says everyone hated and head out to their annual ice skating. Travis says Katie is taking a “One year break from skating”. Katie immediately says people will think she is pregnant but she is NOT pregnant. In fact though, most of her content lately has been her eating, wearing loose fitting clothes and screeching at the camera that she isn’t expecting. Doth protest too much?? On the way home, they make an interesting stop… they meet up with Lawson in a gas station parking lot. Again. What’s going on with these 3 that we are missing? Why is Lawson always meeting up with them late at night in random parking lots? He gets in the car with them before the video ends… he’s on the front and Katie is shoved in the back. Could Travis be editing for Lawson? Travis does mention that Lawson’s vlogs are like watching some high energy kid’s show. Drag him Trav! Katie spends so much time alone in her house that she’s started heading to the big house to hang out with Momma B. Travis does get to go golf with Evan late night at a simulator but Katie doesn’t see Carlin… doesn’t mention Josie… she’s just alone with her kids. They go viral with a reel featuring Travis being the most amazing daddy to Hailey. Hailey pulls in 10 million plus views. Travis’ biggest music reel has 1.5 million views. See? That’s why their kids continue to be front and center. Katie and Travis celebrate their 4th anniversary with a table full of gifts and some fake hugs for the camera. 4 years of exploiting children and wallowing in vapid consumerism. Happy anniversary babe! Katie lands a deal with a counter top robot stove that costs nearly $300 and has a subscription service for frozen meals. She cooks chicken and freeze dried rice as if she’s Julia Child. They do explain their sudden love of Santa. After avoiding his name like the plague previously, Travis says they have decided Santa can be just like the Disney Princesses and he doesn’t care who disagrees. Katie jumps in to explain that gifts come from Mom and Dad but Santa is just a character. Oh. I didn’t know. Also, they take a minute to thank their followers for helping them buy a house this year. They very pointedly say their home is perfect for their family. They love it, it’s cozy, it’s just enough for them. Mmmm-Hmmm…. Are you picking up what they are throwing down? 3.Josie Balka started the year having her back blown out on a cruise ship and ends it… predictably… giving birth. Baby #4, a boy named Brooks, makes his debut on December 6 and momma did it without an epidural, squatting on a bed in full glam wearing a pool noodle on her head. After doing this 3 times in quick succession, she finally found the right mixture and every reel she drops goes viral with over a million views. Her follower count has grown by at least 25,000 in 10 days. The algorithm loves a Trad Wife. Josie definitely has a birth fetish and romanticizes every part of delivery… right down to ole square head Ktron doing his best Evan Stewart impression preparing her pads and numbing spray post-delivery. Baby Brooks requires NICU care due to Josie’s complicated medical condition but that just means more content can be served up. Josie films in the NICU, in the labor room, post labor room and at home her first night back with the kids. Meanwhile, at the house Willow and Hazel pick up the slack in some pre-recorded canned content. The Balka girls and baby Miles are being exploited more now than ever before. Ellie is in charge of the older 3 and her public IG chronicles the adventures in babysitting while mommy and daddy are away. Sister-in-law and best friend Lydia is the grand prize winner in the “who will get to film” sweepstakes. None of her sisters, or her mother even, are allowed in until the baby is born. Lydia is the only one to even share any baby content besides Michael who posts that she is overjoyed. Josie has shared just about every aspect of pregnancy except where this new baby is going to… BE. Miles is already stuffed in what they call the nursery, and the girls are cramped up in a little room sharing a trundle bed. Josie’s bedroom and bathroom are usually her studio… filled with clothes, shoes and every beauty product ever created. Don’t they own a camper? Maybe the baby’s nursery will be in that. 4.January 2026 will mark one whole year since Alyssa Webster got ticked off, quit YouTube and turned off commenting on all of her social media. Of course about 3 months after that she was back to share some lame-o camping trip they took in a family member’s backyard… but that’s beside the point. She’s been pouting for basically 12 whole months now, only stopping long enough to sob over Charlie Kirk, and dress in dated prom gowns for various Conservative functions. Besides all of that she is still able to score free dresses from the Mormon chicks and so she has to show those off. Man, those dresses are so terrible. I know these fundamentalists love to suffer so I guess these dresses help with that. It’s the stiffest, itchiest fabric while still being slick and thin and wrinkly and always just the most garish patterns. Think grandma’s curtains meets Jessica McClintock or thrift store table cloth mixed with 1981 formal living room. Yesh. The girls have to wear this stuff, and they have to smile while doing it. John is always in some cheap, too short tie and little Rhett is always just… there. Usually in the sad hat. The Webster fam lines up for Thanksgiving pictures, Sunday go to meeting pictures and Christmas tree pictures. They are all filtered into oblivion and posted with some lifeless, meaningless AI caption. Girl is really doing the least. But… she did manage to head to the farm for a trip to see Janie. And of course she’s going to post about that and exploit her children while also managing to exploit her elderly grandmother. They seem to have gone to the farm the second the rest of the Bates headed back to Tennessee and the big reason for this trip was that… Alyssa got a new pair of boots. After complaining that she had the same pair from when she was 16 either super fan Tikki came through, or John got a bonus because Alyssa is feeling herself in her new kicks. Unlike Kane Brown, she only has the one pair but still manages to wear them with every outfit and has Allie take her picture posing with her leg thrown out all over the farm. The shot in the midst of the cow poop is my personal fav. I don’t even have to tell you that the girls spend the whole week on the farm in those same damn orange fake leather, zip on the side, ankle booties. God I hope someone has a growth spurt soon so at least one pair can move out of the rotation. 5.In 2025 the Bates clan positioned Zach Bates as the new patriarch. Gil who? Zach has his little siblings staying at his house constantly, he is teaching them to drive, he is hosting and planning family get togethers, filming conversations with Kelly, giving fatherly advice to those out of town, grilling and chilling and camping and scouting out houses for all of his siblings while helping build housing for others. Zach has stories to tell and he will force you to listen. Just ask anyone who tries to join him in his kitchen. He will talk over you, around you and through you. The latest victim is Whitney who shows up to peel potatoes and laugh at his corny jokes. Yes, they make a 20 minute vlog all about mashed potatoes. It has 3 ingredients and a 12 minute tutorial of him showing how to cut a potato. I want to scream “what does it matter?? You’re boiling and mashing them into oblivion man….” Anyway, they show some behind the scenes at the Boutique just before it closes. Zach and Whitney join Evan and Carlin to stand around and observe while the siblings do all of the hard work cleaning up and moving out. Addee says her car is full to the brim with clothes and Ellie takes a ton of stuff as well. Gil, Kelly, JebJud and Warden are all there to help wrap it up and to gladly take every last clothespin left behind. Whitney is back to selling lollipops that supposedly heal strep throat and shows off some gristle turd meat on a plate that she doesn’t eat but says you should, thanks to a meal subscription service. She is still selling that protein shake but just features the 12 pack this time instead of gagging herself on film trying to demonstrate how much she loves it. Their family of 7 heads to the mall to meet the Stewarts for a movie and Zach has to back out of the parking garage because he has that pop up camper strapped to the top of the Denali. I wish they would reverse out of exploiting their kids and lying on film in 2026 as fast as he skedaddles away from Carlin after that movie date. 6.Trace and Lydia Bates have had quite a 2025. They have rearranged that square they live in more times than I can count, but it seems they will be looking for more storage solutions as a new year dawns because so far… they still don’t have a house. I wonder why God doesn’t drop one in their lap the way he saw fit to do for Evan and Carlin. That crazy silly God… always pulling tricks. Some people get million dollar homes and some people can’t get a green card. Oops…moving on. Lydia is now fully in charge of pretty much everything in this home and Trace just bumbles around avoiding all responsibility. While Lydia runs away to a coffee shop to edit videos for their sole source of income… Trace takes the kids to the big house so his little siblings and mom can care for them. Man the big house just never disappoints. It is always, always a random disaster… unless of course there happens to be a surprise sleepover for 40 happening. Then, it’s amazingly clean. The front door is beat all to hell and the porch is loaded with every metal shelving unit from BSB. Inside the trash is just everywhere. Literal trash is on the floor, the couches, toys are strewn around everywhere, there’s dust, crud, smears… it makes me itch. Trace flops down on the stained up old couch that has been there since the reality show began, and starts to narrate what’s happening around him. Obviously he doesn’t do a great job because Lydia has started adding captions to the clips to correct or fill out the story. Baby Kaia is old enough now at 6 months to be stuck in that walker for 20 hours a day just like Ryker. While she rolls around the big house she is chased by Hailey Clark who shows up with Harvey and Katie. Kelly is in the kitchen, noodle in her hair, cooking away. Something that really caught my attention… Kelly Jo was cooking bacon. REAL bacon. Not turkey bacon like they always, always cooked/ate on their reality show. I know Zach and Evan have both cooked real bacon but to see it in the big house with the matriarch cooking it… really makes me wonder. No pork was a big Gothard/IBLP rule. Lydia shares her excitement over being chosen to attend Josie’s birth. She films and types out a love letter to Josie calling her a phenomenal mother. Lydia also gifts Josie a beige basket full of beige gifts. Lydia really has been light on content. Maybe they have been busy house shopping, or maybe she was busy helping Josie. I certainly hope she doesn’t have morning sickness. That would be crazy…. Right?? 7.Michael and Brandon Keilen kicked off 2025 by announcing they were going to change up their YouTube content, share a vlog every other week and planned a huge trip to Alaska for their 10th wedding anniversary in August. The only thing that happened out of all of those plans was that he did stop creepy coloring with his nieces and nephews on film. Otherwise… the year went sideways and the trip to Alaska was postponed when they decided to become foster parents. Michael was the first sibling to congratulate Josie on the birth of her baby. She also shared pictures from Thanksgiving at the farm with Jane. In a new vlog they explain that Brandon went to Michigan alone for Thanksgiving because his sister was getting engaged. What follows is a long, boring story of how the engagement happened in a state house building and how Brandon had to wear a “cool guy tourist” outfit to fool his sister so he could secretly film the whole thing. Whatever. Michael says the boys were with her at the farm and that they will all go together to Michigan for Christmas and be able to stay for a longer time. She hasn’t mentioned anything about how temporary this situation is in a while. It’s interesting that the boys are with them… and only them… for all of the big holidays… and are even able to travel out of state. Michael says how much she has loved this year having the boys in her home. Brandon still doesn’t seem quite as thrilled as Michael and just says it has been “an adjustment”. Michael gets choked up talking about it and Brandon awkwardly tries to comfort her and that’s how they wrap up the vlog. Of course they are swamped with comments from folks saying they “deserve” to adopt these boys and that they are praying they get to adopt them. That’s a touchy subject and people say the stupidest things. 8.Erin Paine is spending every waking minute directing her beef fat operation from her perch at the end of her kitchen table. She’s making sure Chad, Carles and all of the little Paines keep that Kitchen-Aid mixer whirring away and those jars stuffed to the brim with ooey, gooey beef lard packed full of MLM oils to satiate the masses. Fundies and Christian Nationalists just love to coat themselves in some good old animal fat and to make sure she stays top of mind… Erin mails PR packages to all of the top TradWives. One of them features her product and manages that wonderful Southern Baptist backhanded compliment by saying how “lovely” Erin’s product is while also saying she had NO clue Erin made Tallow and has sooo many friends who are already making it. Ouch. Even with Chad working harder than he ever worked under his phony construction business, Erin still can’t keep the stuff in stock and has to wait list folks right at Christmas. Maybe she shouldn’t have sent out so many jars for free. If she’d only speak to Carlin, she could take some lessons on how to get by without giving anything to anybody ever. In other news, Ellie has been to visit and the Paine fam participated in their church’s Living Bethlehem program. Erin was allowed to hammer down on the piano to her heart’s content and the kids showed up in their normal clothes which worked great for their roles as shepherds. We don’t know if they will spend Christmas with Tori’s family in the Smokey Mountains again this year, but we do know Chad’s repaired Advent Calendar is filled full of marginally fun things that the kids will almost love doing every day until Santa Claus doesn’t arrive. Happy Hollydays! 9.Tiffy Bates is still pregnant… maybe. The timeline for Lawson and Tiffany is so backwards and screwed up, it’s hard to say. Esther and Nathan were in town a week ago for what Tiffany called “baby watch”, but then Esther showed them flying out of Knoxville to Las Vegas. Lawson popped up in Katie’s vlog to say that by the time the vlog was posted, the baby would be here… yet their stories have shown them chilling out at home with baby Will. Will is becoming a pro at smiling, laughing and waving “bye bye”…. He learned quickly that if he just complies, then dad won’t cause him to suffer from shaken baby syndrome. Tiffany and Lawson promised multiple vlogs and have only dropped 2 so far. They haven’t shared an update in weeks, but it seems her due date is Christmas Day, so she still has a week and a half to go. Or not… no one knows. We do get a quick sighting of Duke the Dog. He lives exclusively in the backyard, but gets his fair share of being exploited when Lawson scores a paid ad from a dog food brand. Tiffany talks to the camera while sitting in the nursery and says the baby’s name is right in front of the viewer’s face…people guess John or Gilvin… or maybe Espensen… but really with these 2, the kid could be named CRIB or CARPET… or Tiffathon?? I am sure we will find out sometime in the next 6 months. I sure hope the Red Flag Guy is ready. 10.Bits and Bytes…Trace says he is encouraging Kelly to start her own YouTube. He says she should start by sharing on IG. Where has he been? Kelly Jo hawks yet another product that she isn’t paid for… it’s a set of high dollar frying pans and they may not be sending her a check, but she certainly got free product and she happily shares the link…Esther continues to document her workouts and she also shows off pics and videos from their time in Vegas…Evan and Carlin are installing a new fancy automated gate. One thing they can’t replace? The huge electrical wires and transmitters looming right over their house. Tell us again about how desirable this place is…During the kids walk through of the house Zade takes a hard fall opening a closet door and Layla knocks herself out cold while jumping in a low ceiling closet… concussions all around! Have a great week friends. If you are like me and in charge of all of the Holly and the Jolly… Godspeed. We are almost there! submitted by /u/dixcgirl10 to r/BringingUpBates [link] [comments]

Landing Page Item Sale Price Reg Price 1923: A Yellowston Origin Story: Season Two [DVD] $27.59 $25.99 1923: A Yellowstone Origin Story: Season One $15.89 $27.99 65 - 4K UHD/BD Combo [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $29.44 $45.99 70s 4-Film Sci-Fi Collection (Logan's Run/Omega Man/Soylent Green/Westworld) (BIL/DVD) $14.39 $16.98 A Few Good Men - 4K UHD [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $21.30 $26.99 A League of Their Own 4K Ultra HD (4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray) (Bilingual) $28.01 $49.99 A Quiet Place [UHD/BD/Digital HD Combo] [Blu-ray] $24.39 $27.99 Abbott & Costello: The Complete Universal Pictures Collection [DVD] $55.69 $134.99 Afro Samurai - Resurrection - Director’s Cut [Blu-ray] $13.17 $20.48 Air Force One - 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo (Bilingual) $20.66 $26.99 Akira (25th Anniversary Edition) [Blu-ray + DVD] $27.60 $34.98 Akira - Movie - Steelbook [Blu-ray] $30.78 $50.37 Akira [Blu-ray] $21.41 $29.98 American Fiction (BIL/Blu-Ray) $17.49 $30.99 Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom (BIL/Blu-Ray) $10.89 $26.99 Attack On Titan - Season 03 [Blu-ray] $42.22 $59.98 Attack on Titan - Final Season - THE FINAL CHAPTERS (Part 3) [Blu-ray] $48.76 $95.66 Attack on Titan - Season 1 Complete - Steelbook [Blu-ray] $51.67 $69.98 Attack on Titan - Season 2 Complete - Steelbook [Blu-ray] $52.42 $69.98 Attack on Titan - Season 3 Complete - Steelbook [Blu-ray] $52.74 $69.98 Bad Boys for Life / Bad Boys II / Bad Boys - Multi-Feature - 4K UHD [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $26.19 $40.99 Band of Brothers + The Pacific (BD) [Blu-ray] $48.19 $64.99 Banished from the Hero's Party I Decided to Live a Quiet Life in the Countryside - Season 2 [Blu-ray] $49.76 $96.05 Batman: The Complete Series (RPKG/DVD) $50.79 $99.99 Battlestar Galactica - 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray (Bilingual) $18.59 $32.99 Bayonetta: Bloody Fate (Anime Movie) [Blu-ray + DVD] $14.90 $19.98 Baywatch [Blu-ray + DVD + Digital HD] $12.79 $33.99 Berserk: The Golden Age Arc [Blu-ray] $53.22 $99.20 Best of WB 100th: Looney Tunes 10-Film Collection (DVD) $36.39 $69.99 Best of WB 100th: The Looney Tunes Complete Platinum Collection (V1-3) (DVD) $21.79 $39.99 Better Man (Bilingual) $12.99 $27.99 Billions: Season Six $29.39 $46.36 Black Adam (BIL/DVD) (Bilingual) $8.79 $21.99 Black Hawk Down – 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo (Bilingual) $18.95 $30.99 Black Lagoon - Complete Series - Seasons 1 & 2 / Roberta's Blood Trail Ova [Blu-ray] $48.67 $69.98 Black Panther [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $27.84 $38.99 Black Widow [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $24.45 $30.99 Bleach - Thousand-Year Blood War - Part 1 LE (BD) [Blu-ray] $55.09 $79.99 Blue Beetle (BIL/DVD) (Bilingual) $10.49 $22.99 Bluey: Complete Seasons One and Two (DVD) $18.69 $29.98 Bocchi The Rock! 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- The Complete Serie [Blu-ray] $31.58 $39.98 Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (BIL/4KUHD) [Blu-ray] $15.29 $32.99 Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (BIL/Blu-ray) $10.39 $26.99 Fury - 4K UHD [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $18.14 $25.99 GOBLIN SLAYER - Season 2 [Blu-ray] $54.20 $95.66 Game of Thrones: Complete Series (Bilingual/DVD) $95.09 $204.99 Gattaca - 4k Uhd/blu-ray Combo (bilingual) $21.35 $30.99 Ghostbusters (1984) / Ghostbusters Ii / Ghostbusters: Afterlife - Set [blu-ray] (bilingual) $40.43 $55.99 Ghostbusters: Afterlife - Bilingual - UHD/BD Combo + Digital [Blu-ray] $24.63 $38.99 God's Not Dead: In God We Trust [DVD] $14.89 $22.99 Godzilla (1998) - 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo (Bilingual) $24.45 $30.99 Godzilla 2000/Mechagodzilla2/AgaisntMechagodzilla/TokyoSOS/MegaAnnhil/Mothra/Final $28.18 $38.99 Godzilla vs Kong (BIL/4K Ultra HD + Digital) $16.49 $33.39 Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire (BIL/4K Ultra) [Blu-ray] $15.29 $32.99 Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire (BIL/Blu-Ray) $10.39 $22.99 Good Burger 2-Movie Collection (Bilingual) $20.19 $25.83 Gran Turismo – Bilingual – UHD/Blu-ray + Steelbook $38.90 $55.99 Gran Turismo: Based On A True Story - 4K UHD/BD Combo [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $27.25 $45.99 Great Gatsby The (4K Ultra HD/Bilingual) [Blu-ray] $16.49 $43.99 HIGH AND LOW 4K UHD/BLU-RAY $48.44 $86.98 Hacksaw Ridge [4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray + Digital HD] $18.09 $22.99 Halo: Season One [4K UHD] [Blu-ray] $42.79 $69.35 Halo: Season Two $35.39 $52.38 Halo: Season Two [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $36.49 $48.99 Handyman Saitou In Another World - The Complete Season [Blu-ray] $52.24 $69.98 Heaven Official’s Blessing - Season 2 [Blu-ray] $53.09 $96.08 Heavy Metal [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $23.21 $30.99 Hellboy - 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo (Bilingual) $19.02 $30.99 Horimiya: The Missing Pieces - Season 2 [Blu-ray] $52.90 $96.82 House of the Dragon: The Complete First Season (Bilingual/Blu-ray) $22.09 $35.99 How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World [4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $13.59 $34.99 I Got A Cheat Skill In Another World And Became Unrivaled In The Real World Too - The Complete Season [Blu-ray] $52.15 $95.58 I Know What You Did Last Summer [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $29.95 $38.99 I Still Know What You Did Last Summer: 25th Anniversary - 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo (Bilingual) $35.50 $49.99 In Another World With My Smartphone - Season 02 [Blu-ray] $55.77 $100.79 Indiana Jones And The Dial Of Destiny [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $30.76 $38.99 Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2-Disc Special Edition Bilingual) $19.19 $22.99 Infinite [UHD + Digital Copy] $19.49 $22.99 Ip Man - 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray $17.19 $22.98 Iron Man 3 [Blu-ray] $10.00 $26.99 It Came from Outer Space - 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray $15.89 $32.99 JUJUTSU KAISEN - Shibuya Incident - LE [Blu-ray] $77.97 $143.20 Jujutsu Kaisen 0 [Blu-ray] $25.95 $34.98 Jumanji (1995) / Jumanji: the Next Level / Jumanji: Welcome To the Jungle - Set [blu-ray] (bilingual) $31.92 $65.99 Justice League: The Complete Series (RPKG) $43.89 $74.98 Knuckles $20.39 $25.03 Konosuba - An Explosion On This Wonderful World! [Blu-ray] $57.55 $95.50 Krypto the Superdog: The Complete Series (DVD) $27.59 $49.99 Krypton: The Complete Series (DVD) $27.39 $49.99 Last Action Hero - 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo (Bilingual) $25.20 $30.99 Les Misérables (2012) - 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray (sous-titres française) $20.29 $32.99 Lethal Weapon Collection (Lethal Weapon / Lethal Weapon 2 / Lethal Weapon 3 / Lethal Weapon 4) / Collection L'Arme fatale (Bilingual)[Blu-ray] $19.49 $64.99 Liar Liar / Bruce Almighty / Happy Gilmore / Billy Madison $10.29 $14.99 Lord Of The Rings The: The War Of The Rohirrim (BIL/Blu-Ray) $15.89 $30.99 Love Hurts - Collector's Edition 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray (Bilingual) $17.39 $36.99 Love Hurts - Collector's Edition [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $14.79 $30.99 Lucky Star - The Complete Series And Ova [Blu-ray] $29.95 $34.98 Mad Max 5-Film Collection (BIL/4K Ultra HD) [Blu-ray] $76.69 $199.99 Magnum P.I.: Season Three $38.89 $45.99 Mask Of Zorro The - 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo (Bilingual) $17.52 $26.99 Maverick: The Complete Series (DVD) $79.39 $119.99 Men In Black (1997) / Men In Black 3 / Men In Black Ii / Men In Black: International [4k] [blu-ray] (bilingual) $28.24 $38.99 Men in Black / Men in Black 3 / Men in Black 2 $15.72 $19.99 Metalocalypse: The Complete Series - DVD $54.89 $99.99 Migration - Collector's Edition Blu-ray + DVD (Bilingual) $10.99 $26.99 Minions: The Rise of Gru - Collector's Edition [DVD] (Bilingual) $8.39 $14.99 Mob Psycho 100 - Season 02 [Blu-ray] $44.27 $64.98 Mob Psycho 100 - Season 03 [Blu-ray] $52.00 $96.11 Mongolian Chop Squad: The Complete Series (S.A.V.E.) $23.65 $29.98 Monty Python's Flying Circus: The Complete Series [DVD] $38.89 $59.99 Mushishi: The Complete Collection (S.A.V.E.) $23.65 $29.98 My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 $10.19 $19.99 My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3 [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $14.99 $30.99 My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3 [DVD] (Bilingual) $10.99 $22.99 My Hero Academia - Season 06 Part 2 [Blu-ray] $53.20 $69.98 NCIS: Hawai'i: The Final Season $27.99 $44.52 Naruto Shippuden Set 5 (Blu-ray) $32.39 $57.96 Novocaine [DVD] (Bilingual) $13.19 $27.99 One Piece - Collection 34 [Blu-ray] $35.35 $57.21 One Piece - Collection 35 [Blu-ray] $33.25 $54.64 One Piece - Collection 36 [Blu-ray] $35.17 $54.64 One Piece - Collection 37 [Blu-ray] $36.00 $55.80 One Piece Film Red - Movie - Steelbook - 4K [Blu-ray] $33.84 $55.31 Oppenheimer - Blu-ray + DVD (Bilingual) $10.19 $26.99 Outlander (2014) - Season 07 [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $52.91 $75.99 Outlaw Star - The Complete Series [Blu-ray] $39.72 $68.31 Overlord - Season 04 [Blu-ray] $74.42 $94.98 PAW Patrol: The Movie - Blu-ray (Bilingual) $14.89 $19.99 Panty & Stocking With Garterbelt - The Complete Series [Blu-ray] $24.71 $29.98 Parks and Recreation: The Complete Series [DVD] $44.29 $94.99 Past Lives [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $14.99 $26.99 Peanuts Deluxe Collection (Repackaged 2023/DVD) $32.39 $54.97 Penguin The: The Complete First Season (DVD) $19.89 $42.94 Pinky and the Brain: The Complete Series (DVD) $33.99 $59.99 Planetes - The Complete Series [Blu-ray] $53.98 $96.82 Pokemon The Series: XY Complete Season (DVD) $35.69 $82.55 Poseidon [Limited Edition] [Blu-ray] $51.75 $64.94 Pretty Little Liars Complete Series: (Repackage/DVD) $87.29 $179.99 Puss in Boots 2-Movie Collection [DVD] $10.19 $22.99 Puss in Boots: The Last Wish - Collector's Edition Blu-ray + DVD (Bilingual) $9.99 $22.99 Reacher: Season Two $28.09 $36.17 Real Genius [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $21.30 $26.99 Reborn As A Vending Machine I Now Wander The Dungeon - Season 01 [Blu-ray] $51.07 $96.48 Rizzoli & Isles: The Complete Series (DVD) $89.29 $179.99 Rogue One (Bilingual) $21.30 $26.99 Rome: The Complete Series $32.39 $64.99 Roots: The Complete Collection (Repackaged/Epik Pack/DVD) $41.29 $59.99 Rwby: Ice Queendom - The Complete Season [Blu-ray] $50.31 $95.72 SEAL Team: Season Six $35.49 $41.99 SEAL Team: Season Three $12.99 $15.99 SORCERER 4K UHD/BLU-RAY $52.02 $86.98 SPY x FAMILY - Season 2 - LE [Blu-ray] $71.63 $128.88 SPY x FAMILY - Season 2 [Blu-ray] $50.82 $100.23 Samurai Champloo - Complete Series Box Set [Blu-ray] $34.39 $49.98 Scream VI + Scream (2022) 2-Movie Collection [4K UHD + Digital Copy] [Blu-ray] $44.79 $51.99 Seven Mortal Sins - The Complete Series [Blu-ray] $22.28 $29.98 Shangri-La Frontier - Season 1 - Part 1 [Blu-ray] $52.27 $100.76 Shangri-La Frontier - Season 1 Part 2 [Blu-ray] $49.24 $97.68 Shrek + Madagascar + Kung Fu Panda + How To Train Your Dragon Collection (Bilingual) $14.69 $0.00 Shrek - 20th Anniversary Edition 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray (Bilingual) $19.79 $32.99 Shrek 6-Movie Collection [Blu-ray] $32.89 $64.99 Snatch - 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo (Bilingual) $24.87 $30.99 Sonic The Hedgehog 3 [4K + Blu-Ray + Digital Copy] (Bilingual) $14.39 $37.99 Sonic The Hedgehog 3 [4K Steelbook + Blu-Ray + Digital Copy] (Bilingual) $32.49 $61.77 Sonic the Hedgehog [4K UHD + Blu-ray] $27.59 $37.99 Sopranos: The Complete Series (RPKG) (DVD) $74.89 $159.99 Soul Eater - The Complete Series [Blu-ray] $47.22 $75.16 South Park (Not Suitable for Children) $13.19 $15.49 South Park: Joining the Panderverse [Blu-ray] $16.99 $20.06 South Park: The End of Obesity $18.89 $25.30 Spaceballs (Bilingual) [Blu-ray] $9.89 $21.99 Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse - 4K UHD/BD Combo [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $24.11 $45.99 Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse / Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse - Multi-Feature (2 Disc) - 4K UHD [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $31.92 $55.99 Spider-Man: Far from Home / Spider-Man: Homecoming / Spider-Man: No Way Home - Set $44.13 $67.99 Spider-man: 3 Film Collection (Spider-Man (2002) / Spider-Man 2 (2004) / Spider-Man 3 (2007)) – 4K UHD [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $46.85 $67.99 Spider-man: Into the Spider-verse (bilingual) - 4K UHD + Blu-ray Combo Pack $21.95 $35.99 Spider-man: No Way Home [blu-ray] (bilingual) $27.40 $38.99 SpongeBob SquarePants: Ghouls Fools $9.69 $13.71 SpongeBob SquarePants: It's a SpongeBob SquarePants Christmas! $9.09 $13.99 Spy X Family - Part 2 [Blu-ray] $46.30 $69.98 Stand By Me - 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo (Bilingual) $22.56 $26.99 Star Trek: Discovery - Season Four [Blu-ray] $38.89 $46.99 Star Trek: Discovery - Season Four [DVD] (Bilingual) $32.89 $41.99 Star Trek: Lower Decks - Season One [Blu-ray] $23.09 $35.99 Star Trek: Lower Decks - Season One [DVD] $16.99 $27.99 Star Trek: Lower Decks - Season Two $23.59 $27.99 Star Trek: Lower Decks - The Complete Series [Blu-ray] $50.69 $57.99 Star Trek: Picard - The Final Season [DVD] $35.89 $45.99 Star Trek: Section 31 [4K UHD + Blu-Ray] $15.59 $37.99 Star Trek: Section 31 [4K UHD Steelbook + Blu-Ray] $18.29 $41.99 Star Wars: The Force Awakens [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $23.66 $30.99 Starship Troopers - 4K UHD [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $21.30 $26.99 Stephen King Collection (Bilingual) $17.55 $30.99 Sunset Boulevard [4K UHD + Blu-Ray + Digital] $29.89 $37.99 Superman & Lois: The Complete Fourth Season (DVD) $18.89 $35.51 Superman 5- Film Col: I II II Donner Cut III IV (BIL/4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray) $68.59 $129.99 Suzume [Blu-ray] $29.36 $47.85 Tales of Wedding Rings - Season 1 [Blu-ray] $54.57 $96.05 Teen Titans: The Complete Series (Repackaged/DVD) $34.39 $93.50 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2003): Cowabunga Christmas! $5.99 $7.99 Terminator 6-Film Collection (DVD) $23.59 $39.99 That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime: The Movie - Scarlet Bond [Blu-ray] $32.25 $49.31 The 100 Girlfriends Who Really Really Really Really REALLY Love You - Season 1 [Blu-ray] $55.67 $99.89 The Addams Family [Blu-ray + Digital Copy] (Bilingual) $12.09 $15.99 The Amazing Spider-Man 2 / Amazing Spider-Man - Set [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $34.44 $49.99 The Ancient Magus' Bride - Season 02 Part 1 [Blu-ray] $48.56 $95.76 The Ancient Magus’ Bride - Season 2 Part 2 [Blu-ray] $52.41 $69.98 The Apothecary Diaries - Season 1 Part 1 [Blu-ray] $51.25 $96.08 The Apothecary Diaries - Season 1 Part 2 [Blu-ray] $52.65 $99.89 The Aristocrat's Otherworldly Adventure: Serving Gods Who Go Too Far - The Complete Season [Blu-ray] $52.50 $95.61 The Bad Guys - Collector's Edition 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray (Bilingual) $15.89 $32.99 The Bikeriders - Collector's Edition [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $14.29 $30.99 The Bourne Complete Collection [DVD] (Bilingual) $21.09 $36.99 The Bridge On the River Kwai - 4K UHD [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $22.46 $26.99 The Daytrippers [Blu-ray] $37.57 $49.98 The Deer Hunter [Blu-ray] $12.69 $22.99 The Devil Is A Part-Timer! - Season 02 Part 2 [Blu-ray] $48.75 $95.64 The Equalizer 3 - 4K UHD/BD Combo [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $23.63 $45.99 The Fall Guy (2024) - Extended Cut [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $11.79 $26.99 The Fall Guy (2024) [DVD] (Bilingual) $8.99 $21.99 The Huntsman: Winter's War - Extended Edition 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray $14.79 $44.99 The Iron Claw [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $14.99 $26.99 The Iron Claw [DVD] (Bilingual) $13.29 $25.27 The LEGO Batman Movie (Bilingual) [Blu-Ray] $12.49 $39.99 The Land Before Time: The Complete TV Series [DVD] $13.49 $24.98 The Last of Us: The Complete First Season - BD Combo (Bilingual) [Blu-ray] $20.59 $49.99 The Meg 2-Film Collection - Blu-ray $14.79 $30.99 The Northman - Collector's Edition Blu-ray + DVD (Bilingual) $10.99 $19.99 The Patriot - 4K UHD [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $24.11 $34.99 The Professional - 4K UHD/Blu-ray/UltraViolet $21.94 $34.99 The Rising of the Shield Hero - Season 3 - LE [Blu-ray] $65.24 $122.98 The Rising of the Shield Hero - Season 3 [Blu-ray] $53.95 $96.08 The Rockford Files - The Complete Series $52.14 $93.02 The Testament Of Sister New Devil - Seasons 1 & 2 [Blu-ray] $29.72 $34.98 The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning [Limited Edition] [Blu-ray] $51.67 $64.94 The Tiger's Apprentice $18.89 $24.55 The Time Machine [Blu-ray] [Import] $13.49 $19.99 The Visions Of Escaflowne - The Complete Series [Blu-ray] $50.67 $69.98 The Wild Robot - Collector's Edition 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray (Bilingual) $18.09 $32.99 The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic - The Complete Season [Blu-ray] $48.88 $96.75 Thor: Love And Thunder [Blu-ray] (Bilingual) $20.73 $26.99 Thorn Birds Collector's Set $21.99 $33.74 Tom Clancy's Jack Ryan - Season Three [BLU-RAY] $28.89 $35.99 Tom Clancy's Jack Ryan - The Final Season [Blu-ray] $30.09 $35.99 Tomo-Chan Is A Girl! - The Complete Season [Blu-ray] $48.25 $95.67 Transformers: Dark of the Moon (Bilingual) [Blu-ray + DVD + Digital Copy] $11.29 $ Trolls 3-Movie Collection - Blu-ray (Bilingual) $19.19 $39.99 Trolls Band Together - Sing-Along Edition Blu-ray + DVD (Bilingual) $10.19 $26.99 Tulsa King: Season Two $28.79 $37.23 Universal 10-Film Sci-Fi Collection [Blu-ray] $39.59 $74.98 Vinland Saga - Season 2 Part 2 [Blu-ray] $48.22 $69.98 Violet Evergarden - The Complete Series [Blu-ray] $51.32 $64.98 Violet Evergarden: The Movie [Blu-ray] $29.62 $39.98 Voltron: Defender of the Universe - The Complete Original Series [DVD] $47.09 $74.99 Waltons The: The Complete Series (RPKG/DVD) $101.89 $194.99 Westworld: The Complete Series - Blu-ray $60.39 $153.62 Whiplash - 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo (Bilingual) $19.05 $30.99 White Christmas (Diamond Anniversary) [Blu-ray] $19.69 $31.99 Woody Woodpecker and Friends Collection Vol. 2 $19.49 $30.99 Yellowjackets: Seasons One & Two Collection $34.09 $33.99 Zack Snyder's Justice League Trilogy (4K Ultra+ Blu-ray) $56.09 $84.99 submitted by /u/lbabinz to r/MovieDealsCanada [link] [comments]

The sauna we were calling a bus slowly bounced down a crude path forcefully etched into the skin of Earth by journeys no different than this one. My lazy gaze was fixed on unending scenery drifting by, hoping to catch a glimpse of monkeys or an elusive jaguar whose predecessors dominated these smothering trees with unchecked ferocity. This section of untamed jungle is rich in ancient history and superstition, something our guide blabbed on about all day. “Okay folks!” Guillermo shouted, gyroscopically standing at the front, wearing the exact Cheshire smile he had on at the main building complex. His white uniform, accented with gold appointments, had no visible perspiration as he addressed this bus of slick and gummy people. “We are about to reach the “Well of Sacrifice” The largest and most religiously significant cenote in ancient Mayan civilization! Countless people were decapitated and thrown down into this exact cenote! The Mayan people who called this tropical paradise home, believed cenotes were portals to the underworld! Sacrifices had the exciting pleasure of being adorned in dazzling precious gemstones and as much gold as physically possible to appease their gods!” Thin chuckles rotated against Guillermo’s dry sarcasm in the moist air. My body was just going through the motions all day from activity to activity, it was difficult to focus on anything other than how increasingly sticky, hungry, and thirsty I was becoming. Sitting in a pool of myself, I tried to picture what water holding an unknown amount of damned souls could look like. • • • My herd meandered up a steep hill, exchanging pleasantries while I rushed upwards to get my eyes on this historic site as fast as I could. It was truly breathtaking. A deep, round pit in the crusty shell of our planet was filled a third of the way to the top with fresh, deeply saturated, blue liquid. The unrelenting jungle was desperately trying its best to reclaim the exposed stone from all angels. Vines and roots grew over each other, reaching down from every direction with a slow, deliberate, unseen might that ached to graze the water's surface. I couldn’t see the lowest point, it is and always will be covered in what remains of headless bodies, rotted away by the fourth dimension. My mind struggled to grasp the mud's depth, it certainly was bountiful enough to coat the entire exposed bottom. The primeval, siren call of fauna and flora fizzled from my ear canals decibal by decibal. I would not have moved my eyes away to behold Rapture; not even the jaguar I was searching for all day. I was staring into one of Earth’s pupils and I felt her looking back with curiosity and longing matching my own. I imagined she would blink her dark blue, all seeing appendage any second, naming me the victor of our impromptu competition of visual prowess. Giddy vacationer banter broke the spell cast on me. They finally reached the precipice and were looking at the grandeur before us that mother nature carved into her own physique. We were only sightseeing here, at the next site, we got to swim. More than eager to hurry back into our personal brazen bull on wheels to be driven to our ancient and heavenly relief, we departed. No one commented on it. No one seemed to notice someone or something staring up from down in that murk. Every hair on my body standing at attention, trying my best to brush it off, I told myself the clingy heat and dehydration were getting to me. I was absolutely elated for the first time that day. Crammed in a decrepit steam room, trudging through tightly and unevenly packed trails below our smelly feet, bumping sticky legs with the person next to me, I was smiling damn near ear to ear. • • • I was among the first three to arrive at our next pit stop after a short drive and hike through the labyrinthine foliage. Our flock was busy snapping photos of every bright spider in its mesmerizing web or lone wolf flower along our path. Guillermo chatted under his breath and laughed whole heartedly with the matching photographer that silently documented, and later sold to us, the day's adventure. A trillion imprisoned drops of precipitation huddled together amassing a volume ⅓ of the Well of Sacrifice’s. The digit hid its gaze, if it had one. Fresh, emerald green and cloudy, the true depth evaded my focused robotic-like analysis of what was before me. I convinced myself with desperate ease the green lagoon was filled with innocuous leaves, twigs, and dirt. Teeming with just as much, if not more life than the last cenote, the stranded pond harmonized along eerie notes sung by the lively jungle symphony, I could practically see the air vibrating. “Folks!” Might as well be his catchphrase at this point. “Who’s first?” Guillermo said with a smile seeming to stretch all the way around his head. One limp hand rested on the smooth metal handle bar of an old mossy zipline. No one dared make an audible peep or sudden move. “Me.” I blurted out to my own surprise, not wanting to sweat anymore and still feeling the liquid confidence of tequila tasting earlier in the day. “Can I do a backflip?” “Hah!” Guillermo gaffawed from the bottom of his soul “If you know what you are doing! Sure! I'll shout and let you know when to let go of the handle bars!” I have no idea what possessed me to decide I was capable of such a feat, considering my first zipline experience was earlier that same day. Regardless, I took a confident step off the thirty foot high cliff, and went zooming toward cool relief. “Let go!” I mustered all my force to throw an imaginary bowling ball over my head and pull my knees into my chest, ready for the water's enchanting embrace. Amidst my air borne flails, reminiscent of a baby bird jumping out of its nest for the first time, I thought I caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a toothy grin and a set of evilly joyful eyes tightened to waning crescents with sheer jubilation, far below where I was about to land. With an unexpected stinging force, my back broke the serene appearing surface of the perfectly still snapshot in paradise. slap My attention was split between the over joyed face I certainly had hallucinated in my dehydrated, epinephrine filled delirium and the embarrassment of falling off of that tall ledge in such a manner. I collected myself as best I could in the moment to turn back toward the cliff I just plummeted from to see the group staring at me, holding their laughter behind tightened cheeks and balled fists. “The water is perfect!” I exclaimed while shooting a thumb up, my face hot and still managing to sweat. A sense of uncertainty continuously nipped at my toes while I treaded in water that could be 150 feet deep for all I knew. My family was ziplining in with much more grace than me as I swam around, my embarrassment faded with my tight muscles relaxing. The beautifully green hued heterogeneous mixture was a checkerboard of perfectly warm and teeth chatteringly cold spots, I searched hard to find a comfortable spot to float on. I found my resting place thirty five feet away from laughter and playful splashing. Under a tree growing over prehistoric rainfall, sounds of lapping hydration ever so gently echoed off two stone walls eroded smoothly together, and the same flippant solution that set my skin ablaze now apologetically kissed at my fiery back. I began to close my eyes while floating on my back. Before they had shut completely, the cenote I was comfortably bobbing in, solidified around me. I felt as if I was instantly assimilated into the world's biggest bowl of jell-o. In the darkness, I was resting on a bed that doesn't exist anywhere on this green and blue planet. A bespoke embrace manifested for me and me alone. I felt an alluring vibration, creeping into every cell of my body, coaxing me to sink further. I counted one second in this divine blob before I was struck from the depths below by a lightning bolt composed of peace, belonging, and tranquility touching my mind, body and soul in a divine way I thought only happened to people in the Bible. I didn’t have a brain anymore. Reduced to pure energy, my earthly suit was zapped away from me. It was somewhere close by, just in case I needed it, I couldn’t tell where. I didn’t care where. In second three, voices I knew better than my own echoed biomes away. Voices I couldn’t quite make out but felt instinctually familiar with. “We know you are faking!” “Derick!” “We are going to leave you here!” “Derick!” “Wake up!” Crash Spat out into the damp jungle, forcefully shoved back into my terrestrial constraints, my eyes shot open. I gasped for air while thrashing like someone who never touched water before. My eyes struggled to adjust to the cluttered landscape around me as my brain tried to make sense of being inside flesh and bone again. In the adrenaline charged panic, my eyes were able to make out my dad at the opposite end of the water swimming towards me, and my mom stood at the water's edge behind him. The entire group was nowhere to be seen. My brain felt like warm pudding sloshing around my head, coating the walls and clumping in soft, irregular pieces while I was trying to learn how to swim again right on the spot. My dad treaded in place as embers of life crackled deep within my eye sockets. “Haha, good nap? Don’t worry we all kept our eyes on you and made sure you didn't drown. We thought you were faking at the end! We figured you needed the rest.” My dad cheerfully shared as I began moving out of the water like a zombie, not forming any real thoughts yet. His words orbited my head in a figure eight pattern, repeatedly echoing into one ear and out the other. “Come on nene, it's time to go to the next cenote. I brought you a towel.” My moms loving words bounced around my cranium like a jumping bean that escaped a black hole, somehow begrudgingly surviving the trip through our dense atmosphere to bore itself within my chowder-filled head. I dragged my haggard self between the creaky walls and oblivious vacationers. Collapsing into the first open seat I could find, I finally had a second to think about what on God's green earth I just bore witness to against my will. My still squishy mind spun and contorted in countless directions. I felt like a scientist who made a new discovery. The group yapped on about this and that while I silently spiraled. Trying hard not to question my sanity, I focused on what I knew to be true. We were rapidly approaching the next Cenote. • • • This site was different in almost every way than the first, being completely underground. Crude stone steps abstractly coated in moss and slippery slime, carved by god knows who, led forty feet into brittle earth revealing a damp, dimly lit cavern. Scant rays of light shone lackadaisically through a man made hole in the ceiling, deliberately centered above a round stone platform in the middle of the pond. Darting iridescent fish, no longer than your pinky, caught diluted light for fractions of seconds, creating a dazzling treat my eyes ate up from the lack-luster pond. Energy of ancient rites felt trapped in this perpetually wet, limestone relic of the past. The dank air felt charged to the point that I reasoned, if I squinted hard enough, I might be able to see the ghosts of my ancestors, splashing, celebrating, and laughing like there would be no tomorrow for them. The wise, primordial bond of hydrogen and oxygen rose only to my waist, save for a small area directly in front of the round platform, deep enough for people to safely jump into. As much as my pupils struggled to dilate to the correct size, my gaze effortlessly shattered through the glass-like ecosystem. Every piece of gravel or anxiety riddled guppy calling this place home in plain view. Opting to walk in rather than cannonballing into this precious piece of history, my senses were sharp enough to register in the tens on the BESS scale as I waded through mother nature’s warm lifeblood. Fat chance I would close my eyes this time, if something were to happen, I wanted to be able to really take it all in. These refreshing, hallowed bodies trapped in this expansive cave system were feeling ever more intricate by the minute. I waded through the water housing curious inhabitants, waiting, listening. 5 minutes… 10 minutes… 20 minutes… My sense of discovery and wonder was replaced by unbridled child-like frustration. My heart revved toward its physical limit rapidly and angrily, and with furious purpose. I wanted to scream until the escaping vibrations shook the next micro-ecosystem over. How dare I let myself fall for my own whimsical dreams and belief that something special was reaching into my stiff life and shaking with no intention of stopping. Clearly, I was dehydrated to the point of delirium and delusion. Somewhere during the day a neon spider must have hitched a ride and left its puny, vampiric mark behind. Exhaustion combined with supernatural beliefs being fed to me all day resulted in a strange dream. Reason arrogantly and aggressively usurped the helm of my cognition out of whimsy’s delicate grip. I decided it was time to sulk on my own for the remaining minutes we would be inside what now felt like a claustrophobic tourist destination. I shambled exaggeratedly out of liquid crystal, moving like a geriatric soul trapped in a young body. My knees buckled out from under me for a millisecond when the water was down to my ankles. Something shocked my feet with a tiny current; the sensation you get from trick pieces of chewing gum that tingle your fingers. Not exactly painful, certainly not pleasant. The alluring call of relaxation returned, riding a cool, refreshing breeze, trying to make its way onto the dance floor with my soul from what seemed like three musty chambers away. I wanted it to rend my existence once more. One for the road. I caught my tired body before I collapsed into jagged pebble peppered stone and almost let a crooked laugh escape my sandy throat. “So I'm not going mad!” I thought to myself. I shifted my weight backwards to let the pool envelope me, swimming quietly on my red back towards the circle my family formed. I did my best to tune out their incessant waffling that could potentially be overpowering any noise being made for me. I flipped over onto my feet and forcefully injected myself into their joyous conversation, “Do you guys hear that?” Conversation fell dead in the water, everyone listened, shook their heads no and began tossing gab’s dripping corpse between each other again. “Okay folks let’s head back to the bus and get going to the last Cenote of the day!” Guillermo’s voice blasted through the stone grotto like dynamite. The white noise bubbling in humid air ceased as soon as his first syllable rebounded against gray-green rock. I was absolutely frothing to be on our way, the rest of my family however was dragging their feet literally and figuratively. • • • It began to rain lightly, sucking any shred of morale further into the soft dirt beneath our blistering toes. No one really wanted to be there other than me, but it was part of the day's plan so Guillermo would make sure we completed his entire itinerary if it was his heroic martyr. Seventeen people sought refuge around dusty plastic tables under tired and sun bleached umbrellas. This seemingly forgotten pore on the complexion of our planet was hardly a sight to behold, it seemed completely devoid of life. No visible moss or fish and no trees or vines grew around the edges. No colorful iris juxtaposed my damp wood colored stare. Crystal clear hydration from heaven revealed every crack and crevice below. This ”cenote” stood completely alone, not connecting to the main cave system of the area like almost all do. Curiosity was getting the cat’s goat as I made my lonesome way down a staircase slippery in cold rain, leading to one of three rock platforms around this jagged kettle that seemed to boil under the sky's pressure relieving release. I planned to jump in with my eyes closed to, hopefully, get the full experience from the get-go. With no one trying to keep their hair dry near me, why not have a little fun with it? No matter how big of a splash I made, no one was anywhere close enough to get caught in the fallout. “Cannonball!” Echoed through the porous sponge that was temporarily taking my brains place as I curled into a ball and hurled myself into the abyss, ready to soak up whatever I would be placed in. Splash I reached the deepest point of my trajectory, gentle resistance brought my body to a halt. Everything was wrong. Liquid that universally will acquiesce to its container grew a thousand rounded points that poked and prodded into every part of my body. Where there was once enough resistance to propel myself upwards, was now a shifting slurry of pokey elbows and boney knees, all writhing over one another, fruitlessly and eternally searching for the surface. The abnormal chill of my environment sucked away my breath in half a heartbeat. My brain entered full fledged fight or flight mode, moving me with no input of my own. Primal fear lodged one action and one word into every muscle I have; ESCAPE. Even with my frenzied eyes forced to full moons, all I saw was black, there was no waters edge to be moving toward even if I figured out how to move properly. My cramping hands clawed and yanked at whatever they could, digging into and tearing apart what felt like rotten tropical fruit and their dense pits. My legs turned to useless anchors, each kick sunk me further into human composed quick sand. My desperate grip snapped apart invisible, crispy, hollow sounding bones of every shape and size. Each break was guttural and evoked more panic with each crackle and snap. I began to lose consciousness while my body was seizing and twitching every which way in vain Hail Mary attempts to grasp solid ground. I found myself painfully flopping on the rocks with my back to the water, slowly coming to, covered in tiny scrapes and tender sore spots from my getaway. Whether I was allowed to escape or somehow fought my way out didn’t matter to me. My heart was cramping and beating irregularly as I choked on my survival. My organs screamed in blasphemous unison what seemed to be my own requiem. Reality violently exploded into perspective and the godless symphony within me crumpled down and hid itself deep when someone spoke to me just out of view. “Why do you think no one else is down here Rat?” My older brother said with an unamused look on his face, tossing me my half wet towel “It’s freezing.” “Thanks.” Escaped from my chattering teeth. The entire ordeal was out of view from everyone, for better or worse. I felt unsatisfied, unsatiated, and greedy. I still didn’t understand what was happening, not that I planned on solving the jungles’ mysteries. I was just upset that the experience would end on that note. “How anticlimactic.” I found myself thinking. I fixed my jittery gaze on the infected pore, feeling a little let down. “Maybe if I stare long enough this one will open its eye as well?” I mopishly hoped. As cold as I felt, Guillermo’s words chilled my blood to its freezing point. “Unfortunately folks due to the weather, we will not be able to go snorkeling on the beach anymore, it’s not safe to be out there right now. However! As compensation for the inconvenience, we would like to offer you free food and drinks next to another Cenote you have not seen today!” I felt my heart skip a beat. It began slamming wildly against my lungs and seemed to rhythmically punch against my ribs, trying to escape. Our guide's words awoke a passionate drummer. I hadn't the smallest shed of an inkling the fellow lived in my cavernous, empty chest. Ecstatic is an understatement for the feeling of fullness that rose out of my quaking core after hearing the words of this beautiful messenger from God. The rest of the group unanimously decided this was a fair alternative to snorkeling as we had been walking and driving from place to place all day, a moment to relax sounded appealing. So onto Guillermo’s chariot we climbed, and down the winding hallway through the thick greenery our steed shambled. • • • The sky opened once again and our star began its thankless work of redistributing excess moisture throughout the air. A small squeaky clean cocktail cart struggled through the uneven terrain towards us, the sound of expensive bottles burst the ambient lullaby. Three overly attentive employees, dressed tightly in the compound's trademark collared white and gold uniforms, took food orders with blinding pearly whites on display. Happiness filled the clearing to its brink. Little plastic cups of pricey liquor swirled and were dumped down gullets with reckless abandon, chased with hearty and unifying laughter. The party carried on over my shoulder as I drew closer to the enigma that I hoped would deliver me. A 15 foot cliff rose above a pleasantly blue homogeneous waterhole. The color attempted to conceal the ground. From the precipice I was perched, I could tell I would never be able to reach the deepest depths here. Even if I dove head first and swam with ferocity downward, my lungs would burst before I touched limestone. So I did. Without giving it a second consideration, I flattened my body into the shape of a sharp pencil, my feet being the point, and plummeted toward my target. I intended to pierce the writhing digit with the weight of the world pulling me towards itself. As the muffling pressure swallowed me whole and halted gravity’s acceleration, I flipped upside down and began descending further. Having ripped and kicked through three armfuls of azure, I opened my eyes and had to force my breath from escaping as I took in a jaw dropping sight. All around me as far as I could see in the darkening blue, were gleaming specks of every color and blinding gold bits, slowly drifting into the infinite void extending forever and ever right over my inverted gaze. 360 degrees around me, bedazzling the clear heavens over my feet and blue murk below, intricately worked pieces of gold and loose precious gems drifted lazily one after another. My forceful descent was halted in its bubbly tracks, my jaw wanted so bad to slack in awe. Enough wits remained about me to know better. Every second I was suspended felt stretched into muddled millennia. Such vast amounts of time, holding separative power immeasurable on our metrics, made the concept begin to lose any concrete structure. The mouth I felt trapped in seemed to be passing back and forth over my soul with tastebuds the size of our bus, deciding if I tasted good or not. Every so often, a loud, commanding thump resonated through this microcosm. Every loose, forgotten piece stuck here, forever sinking deeper in formless aggregate, shook in perfect unison. All negative emotions melted away, dissolving into molten time. I was sinking much slower than all that glittered around me. I had no desire to move any muscles other than those in my neck in order to gulp as much as my greedy eyes could swallow. I blinked one too many times, and someone flipped the display off. I felt dizzy as the world around me seemed to instantaneously be walled off. As quickly as the show was shut down, my heart became aware of its extreme lack of fresh air. BOOM One… CRACK Two… SPLASH Three… Four… Five, six… Seven… Eight, nine and ten… Ten explosions burst one after the other. Cutting through mortar blasts all around me, my failing organs resumed their requiem while questionably clean water blasted against and past my bare eyes. I was 25 feet below the surface. I consider myself an exceptional swimmer, but exhaustion working with suffocation against my new goal of oxygen, caused this short distance to be the most strenuous task in my life to date. I emerged like a new born beast, startling the refreshed ten people who had jumped in while I was below. “What the-?!” “We didn’t even see you in here!” “We thought you were on a walk!” “Are you okay? Did anyone land on you?” People all around me, half amused, half confused, all talked at once at my shut ears. I didn’t respond. I took a few deep breaths before pushing my head into the cenote and diving as if I was a, one of one, fresh water sperm whale species. All there was in the gradient, were legs kicking against the invisible pull Earth produced. Frustration flickered again. It was these people’s fault. If they hadn’t jumped in, I’d still be down in my personal solar system. I began my angry ascent, and repeated variations of that same thought over and over. If they hadn’t jumped in, I’d still be down there. The weight of my outlandish fervor tethered itself to reality, almost pulling me to the untouchable ground like a boulder tied to my wrists. In my brief moment of clarity, the unnoticeable spell I was under petrified me. I surfaced, through catching my breath I responded to the 20 eyes coalesced on me, “Ya I’m fine, I thought I saw an iPhone down there. I can’t hold my breath long enough to touch the floor so it’ll rest there forever I guess. Haha!” “Really? I want to try!” My sister cheered. “If I grab it first, it’s mine, Rat.” My brother proposed. Both dove, my new drummer friend let loose between my ears waiting for them to come back up. 10 grueling seconds dug razor sharp claws over my whole body. splash “There’s nothing down there Rat.” My sister threw her words at me like a primitive spear. “I saw something down there.” My brother solemnly shared. “What? What did you see? Tell me.” I feverishly responded. “A ghost.” My heart sank as I was on the brink of having a conniption. “Here it comes!” He said with a firm push on the water in front of him, moving him back a foot. Tears were about to spill over my face. Pbbbt Bubbles rose behind him. He burst into obnoxious laughter. Deciding between rage and relief, a smile crept onto my face. I splashed water into his face and momentarily forgot how close I was to browning the water. “Last call for food and drink orders!” Guillermo called like a caring mother from the precipice above. I knew we would definitely not be seeing anymore cenotes, and with my brother's age old prank, hunger tore into my guts. I joined the remainder of my group and ordered half the menu. I did my absolute best to push this experience deep into the recesses of my mind for the remainder of the vacation. It was effortless at first, but the seed sneakily stuck onto my soul had yet to bear fruit. Upon my return to Arizona, roots festered within. • • • It started harmlessly enough with pleasant dreams of being around or in a cenote. Backstroking in warm water, only to wake slick in my own self produced pond, the sheets revealing a dark, wet outline extending several inches past where my motionless body laid. Each dream showed me a different site. Sites I hadn’t seen with my own two eyes. If I dreamt the same place, the most notable difference was the color of the ponds. Clear, brown, red, blue, green, gold, and gray were all hues I witnessed. On rare occasions it was nighttime or cloudy out, but it was perfectly sunny and warm for the most part. As the visions increased in intensity and quantity, my sleep felt less and less restful. No matter how many hours I laid unconscious, I arose ever more tired. Anxiety blossomed and rapidly spread over my existence starting from the crown of my head to the round points of my feet that keep me rooted and upright. Every new room I stepped into brought panic and a heart pounding sense of atmospheric pressure closing in on all sides. Standing or sitting in a room with people plunged me in cold sweat. The safest, most relaxing place I could be was in my room. I chose to build and reinforce the cage that grew smaller on its own every day. My chrysalis felt incomplete, empty, and dead. I manically searched my family home for anything I could assimilate into my cocoon to bring any sense of comfort. Maybe a forgotten drawing, an old picture of myself, a dusty toy I used to play with, an old gaming console I used to sit with for hours, dvd’s I grew up watching, anything. Sitting on a windowsill, dusted in skin flakes, dog dander, hair, and dirt, sat a sight for desperate, bloodshot eyes. A healthy, poorly maintained, hydroponic bamboo plant from Ikea. My manically pulsing heart slowed ever so slightly and my skin grew tiny little bumps of excitement all over. I was barely hanging onto my job at this point, my lack of sleep and overarching sense of fear, discomfort, inability to focus, paranoia, and ostracism sent my performance six feet into worm wiggling earth. I grew angry with no outlet. I wanted to shut the world out more every day. I was furious that I had fallen for this trap. Fuming that I had swallowed these things carefully laid bait. Hook, line, and sinker, I could feel the rod tightening inch by inch, hour by hour and it enraged me. I know after thrashing in the soup for as long as I can, I will be pulled in, floating lifelessly on my side. I’m going to be scooped up in a net to be bled, gutted, descaled, cooked with aromatics and butter before my bones will be tossed somewhere into Mother Nature. It all melted away for a second as I grabbed the bamboo’s water stained vase and brought it into my bedroom. Gingerly placing the young bamboo plant I named Bo on my nightstand, I promptly fell into the deepest slumber I had in the three months since my vacation to those god forsaken, infected appendages littered across that hallowed swathe of foliage. My dream that night followed a group's expedition unto a distant, foreign land where rumors claim treasures sat in pools of enchanted water. Grottos brimmed with prosperity eternal. Righteous gods laid claim and rewarded those who were devout. Through an echo of the distant past, I saw 5 men. Four including myself were rapidly scouring the floor of what I call “the infected pore” cenote. Two were standing on stone platforms around the waters edge holding large leather bags in one hand and grabbing dripping gold jewelry from us four with the other. I used both hands to sift through brown sludge, pulling anything solid to the surface. My hands filled up with ounce after ounce of pure gold jewelry when I heard five air cutting, ephemeral whistles preceding five ugly thuds, crescendoing into two synchronized splashes. The sinkhole, clouded with brown sediment, was being taken over by crimson. Five bodies laid face down, small bubbles escaped their agape mouths in neat columns. My looting party adorned skewers, the chiseled flint tips were safely tucked away between hemispheres of gray matter. Their last moments overflowed with greed and misguided fervor. They appeared peaceful, as if snorkeling, before being obscured by the slurry of color fighting for dominance. I raised my hands in surrender. Heavy gold rings, anklets, bracelets, and head pieces tumbled from my grasp, splashing into colorful murk all around me. Surrounded by bow-wielding people speaking a different language than me, a sharp whistle somewhere behind me woke me from the hazy memory that didn't belong to me. I felt rested. • • • Another restless month dragged me by my hair before I lost my job. “Lack of motivation.” They told me. Depression and anxiety became screaming monkeys on my back. My parents could tell and told me to take all the time I needed to recover. I had some savings meant for moving out and a new car, dipping into that nest egg would be a small price to pay for my sanity we figured. Therapy begat none. Medication was a bust. Change of lifestyle; wasted energy. The sleeping visions were none existent. Thinking back to what worked last time, I got abstract and bought three house plants for my bedroom, desperate to wake up feeling like I actually rested. One more bamboo plant and two leafy ficus. I threw my nightly handful of Benadryl, sleeping pills, and melatonin down before wrapping my shaky body in dank blankets and shutting my eyes, trying to ignore the constant hot claminess persistently stuck to my skin. My vision was overtaken by buzzing gold light, my lactic acid filled muscles faded into bright holiness. As I became aware of it, something snapped its fingers, my body returned and collapsed onto unforgiving wood floor, my dark sunken eyes honed their stabby, tired look with purpose of their own, onto a hanging dogwood cross with inlaid gold seams. A precious gift left to me by my grandparents. I felt limp enough to sink through the ground. In my priceless newly returned clarity, I went out and bought three gallons of gold paint, two green, and ten more leafy friends. Over the course of two headache filled, sleepless days, I began by laying brown butcher paper over my entire floor and moving everything out of my room. Every supply I needed was lying around the house somewhere, I just needed to ask permission. At his wits end of how to help, my project went unopposed by my dad. I carefully covered my bedroom’s white trim in blue painters tape and furiously spread glossy gold paint evenly over every wall and the ceiling. Before it had dried, I dipped my hands in green paint to abstractly throw globs into the rough shape of bushes and trees. Once I felt satisfied with the ratio, I fell onto my butt and gave myself a much needed break. I spread eagle with hands that grew encrusted in paint and passed out. I was walking through the jungle, trees moved aside with every step I took forward. My path was lined in puny solid gold crucifixes, 2x1 inches, protruding perfectly vertical from hallowed dirt. The further I walked, the distance between crosses grew larger. I wasn’t far from someone standing with their hands comfortably resting behind their back. It was Guillermo, bearing his overly toothy smile and jubilation lined eyes. The photographer hid out of view, constantly sending bright flashes at us with a mechanical click and frantic scurry to capture as many angels as possible. Guillermo extended both arms as if to embrace me. I raised my own, only to see filthy, false jungle green hands rise from the bottom of my vision. His face contorted into a hideous frown before he pushed me firmly to the floor. Refreshed and wide awake, I became aware of my hands painfully tightened around the dogwood cross that I had stored in the next room over with all my other belongings. It was covered in green paint from my hands. The sudden sensation of unimaginable filth blasted into my cocoon. I opened my window to let the blistering Arizona air in. I ran to the bathroom I share with my brother to cleanse my body and heirloom in steamy, sudsy water. With my whole body red from scrubbing with a loofah, I began deep cleaning my pseudo wilderness. I tore the now brown-green paper from the ground, pulled off the half gold painters tape, moved my 14 leafy plants all around the room's edge, and decided I didn’t need any of my furniture. Not even my bed, I replaced it with an open sleeping bag. Every night before laying to rest, I watered all 14, the humidity was almost thick enough to sustain a fish. The remainder of my nest egg was thrown at pure gold jewelry, ordered online from my sparklingly clean cocoon. 10 rings, 4 bracelets, 3 delicate necklaces, and a crown bedazzled in lab grown emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and amethysts. I spent day and night obsessively dusting and pruning my chlorophyll family and laying motionless on the hard ground in my silent bedroom, hoping and praying to greet Guillermo on his home turf through my restless visions. I never took my jewelry off, even to shower three times a day. The incessant stickiness growing through my pores drove me mad and made me feel utterly filthy. I washed my hands and face over 20 times a day. My family looks at me sideways. I don’t care anymore. We are currently in Mexico City to celebrate Day of the Dead. I haven’t told any of them yet, but I plan on staying here. I have my eyes set on a new job. submitted by /u/Derick_Mtz to r/writers [link] [comments]

The sauna we were calling a bus slowly bounced down a crude path forcefully etched into the skin of Earth by journeys no different than this one. My lazy gaze was fixed on unending scenery drifting by, hoping to catch a glimpse of monkeys or an elusive jaguar whose predecessors dominated these smothering trees with unchecked ferocity. This section of untamed jungle is rich in ancient history and superstition, something our guide blabbed on about all day. “Okay folks!” Guillermo shouted, gyroscopically standing at the front, wearing the exact Cheshire smile he had on at the main building complex. His white uniform, accented with gold appointments, had no visible perspiration as he addressed this bus of slick and gummy people. “We are about to reach the “Well of Sacrifice” The largest and most religiously significant cenote in ancient Mayan civilization! Countless people were decapitated and thrown down into this exact cenote! The Mayan people who called this tropical paradise home, believed cenotes were portals to the underworld! Sacrifices had the exciting pleasure of being adorned in dazzling precious gemstones and as much gold as physically possible to appease their gods!” Thin chuckles rotated against Guillermo’s dry sarcasm in the moist air. My body was just going through the motions all day from activity to activity, it was difficult to focus on anything other than how increasingly sticky, hungry, and thirsty I was becoming. Sitting in a pool of myself, I tried to picture what water holding an unknown amount of damned souls could look like. • • • My herd meandered up a steep hill, exchanging pleasantries while I rushed upwards to get my eyes on this historic site as fast as I could. It was truly breathtaking. A deep, round pit in the crusty shell of our planet was filled a third of the way to the top with fresh, deeply saturated, blue liquid. The unrelenting jungle was desperately trying its best to reclaim the exposed stone from all angels. Vines and roots grew over each other, reaching down from every direction with a slow, deliberate, unseen might that ached to graze the water's surface. I couldn’t see the lowest point, it is and always will be covered in what remains of headless bodies, rotted away by the fourth dimension. My mind struggled to grasp the mud's depth, it certainly was bountiful enough to coat the entire exposed bottom. The primeval, siren call of fauna and flora fizzled from my ear canals decibal by decibal. I would not have moved my eyes away to behold Rapture; not even the jaguar I was searching for all day. I was staring into one of Earth’s pupils and I felt her looking back with curiosity and longing matching my own. I imagined she would blink her dark blue, all seeing appendage any second, naming me the victor of our impromptu competition of visual prowess. Giddy vacationer banter broke the spell cast on me. They finally reached the precipice and were looking at the grandeur before us that mother nature carved into her own physique. We were only sightseeing here, at the next site, we got to swim. More than eager to hurry back into our personal brazen bull on wheels to be driven to our ancient and heavenly relief, we departed. No one commented on it. No one seemed to notice someone or something staring up from down in that murk. Every hair on my body standing at attention, trying my best to brush it off, I told myself the clingy heat and dehydration were getting to me. I was absolutely elated for the first time that day. Crammed in a decrepit steam room, trudging through tightly and unevenly packed trails below our smelly feet, bumping sticky legs with the person next to me, I was smiling damn near ear to ear. • • • I was among the first three to arrive at our next pit stop after a short drive and hike through the labyrinthine foliage. Our flock was busy snapping photos of every bright spider in its mesmerizing web or lone wolf flower along our path. Guillermo chatted under his breath and laughed whole heartedly with the matching photographer that silently documented, and later sold to us, the day's adventure. A trillion imprisoned drops of precipitation huddled together amassing a volume ⅓ of the Well of Sacrifice’s. The digit hid its gaze, if it had one. Fresh, emerald green and cloudy, the true depth evaded my focused robotic-like analysis of what was before me. I convinced myself with desperate ease the green lagoon was filled with innocuous leaves, twigs, and dirt. Teeming with just as much, if not more life than the last cenote, the stranded pond harmonized along eerie notes sung by the lively jungle symphony, I could practically see the air vibrating. “Folks!” Might as well be his catchphrase at this point. “Who’s first?” Guillermo said with a smile seeming to stretch all the way around his head. One limp hand rested on the smooth metal handle bar of an old mossy zipline. No one dared make an audible peep or sudden move. “Me.” I blurted out to my own surprise, not wanting to sweat anymore and still feeling the liquid confidence of tequila tasting earlier in the day. “Can I do a backflip?” “Hah!” Guillermo gaffawed from the bottom of his soul “If you know what you are doing! Sure! I'll shout and let you know when to let go of the handle bars!” I have no idea what possessed me to decide I was capable of such a feat, considering my first zipline experience was earlier that same day. Regardless, I took a confident step off the thirty foot high cliff, and went zooming toward cool relief. “Let go!” I mustered all my force to throw an imaginary bowling ball over my head and pull my knees into my chest, ready for the water's enchanting embrace. Amidst my air borne flails, reminiscent of a baby bird jumping out of its nest for the first time, I thought I caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a toothy grin and a set of evilly joyful eyes tightened to waning crescents with sheer jubilation, far below where I was about to land. With an unexpected stinging force, my back broke the serene appearing surface of the perfectly still snapshot in paradise. slap My attention was split between the over joyed face I certainly had hallucinated in my dehydrated, epinephrine filled delirium and the embarrassment of falling off of that tall ledge in such a manner. I collected myself as best I could in the moment to turn back toward the cliff I just plummeted from to see the group staring at me, holding their laughter behind tightened cheeks and balled fists. “The water is perfect!” I exclaimed while shooting a thumb up, my face hot and still managing to sweat. A sense of uncertainty continuously nipped at my toes while I treaded in water that could be 150 feet deep for all I knew. My family was ziplining in with much more grace than me as I swam around, my embarrassment faded with my tight muscles relaxing. The beautifully green hued heterogeneous mixture was a checkerboard of perfectly warm and teeth chatteringly cold spots, I searched hard to find a comfortable spot to float on. I found my resting place thirty five feet away from laughter and playful splashing. Under a tree growing over prehistoric rainfall, sounds of lapping hydration ever so gently echoed off two stone walls eroded smoothly together, and the same flippant solution that set my skin ablaze now apologetically kissed at my fiery back. I began to close my eyes while floating on my back. Before they had shut completely, the cenote I was comfortably bobbing in, solidified around me. I felt as if I was instantly assimilated into the world's biggest bowl of jell-o. In the darkness, I was resting on a bed that doesn't exist anywhere on this green and blue planet. A bespoke embrace manifested for me and me alone. I felt an alluring vibration, creeping into every cell of my body, coaxing me to sink further. I counted one second in this divine blob before I was struck from the depths below by a lightning bolt composed of peace, belonging, and tranquility touching my mind, body and soul in a divine way I thought only happened to people in the Bible. I didn’t have a brain anymore. Reduced to pure energy, my earthly suit was zapped away from me. It was somewhere close by, just in case I needed it, I couldn’t tell where. I didn’t care where. In second three, voices I knew better than my own echoed biomes away. Voices I couldn’t quite make out but felt instinctually familiar with. “We know you are faking!” “Derick!” “We are going to leave you here!” “Derick!” “Wake up!” Crash Spat out into the damp jungle, forcefully shoved back into my terrestrial constraints, my eyes shot open. I gasped for air while thrashing like someone who never touched water before. My eyes struggled to adjust to the cluttered landscape around me as my brain tried to make sense of being inside flesh and bone again. In the adrenaline charged panic, my eyes were able to make out my dad at the opposite end of the water swimming towards me, and my mom stood at the water's edge behind him. The entire group was nowhere to be seen. My brain felt like warm pudding sloshing around my head, coating the walls and clumping in soft, irregular pieces while I was trying to learn how to swim again right on the spot. My dad treaded in place as embers of life crackled deep within my eye sockets. “Haha, good nap? Don’t worry we all kept our eyes on you and made sure you didn't drown. We thought you were faking at the end! We figured you needed the rest.” My dad cheerfully shared as I began moving out of the water like a zombie, not forming any real thoughts yet. His words orbited my head in a figure eight pattern, repeatedly echoing into one ear and out the other. “Come on nene, it's time to go to the next cenote. I brought you a towel.” My moms loving words bounced around my cranium like a jumping bean that escaped a black hole, somehow begrudgingly surviving the trip through our dense atmosphere to bore itself within my chowder-filled head. I dragged my haggard self between the creaky walls and oblivious vacationers. Collapsing into the first open seat I could find, I finally had a second to think about what on God's green earth I just bore witness to against my will. My still squishy mind spun and contorted in countless directions. I felt like a scientist who made a new discovery. The group yapped on about this and that while I silently spiraled. Trying hard not to question my sanity, I focused on what I knew to be true. We were rapidly approaching the next Cenote. • • • This site was different in almost every way than the first, being completely underground. Crude stone steps abstractly coated in moss and slippery slime, carved by god knows who, led forty feet into brittle earth revealing a damp, dimly lit cavern. Scant rays of light shone lackadaisically through a man made hole in the ceiling, deliberately centered above a round stone platform in the middle of the pond. Darting iridescent fish, no longer than your pinky, caught diluted light for fractions of seconds, creating a dazzling treat my eyes ate up from the lack-luster pond. Energy of ancient rites felt trapped in this perpetually wet, limestone relic of the past. The dank air felt charged to the point that I reasoned, if I squinted hard enough, I might be able to see the ghosts of my ancestors, splashing, celebrating, and laughing like there would be no tomorrow for them. The wise, primordial bond of hydrogen and oxygen rose only to my waist, save for a small area directly in front of the round platform, deep enough for people to safely jump into. As much as my pupils struggled to dilate to the correct size, my gaze effortlessly shattered through the glass-like ecosystem. Every piece of gravel or anxiety riddled guppy calling this place home in plain view. Opting to walk in rather than cannonballing into this precious piece of history, my senses were sharp enough to register in the tens on the BESS scale as I waded through mother nature’s warm lifeblood. Fat chance I would close my eyes this time, if something were to happen, I wanted to be able to really take it all in. These refreshing, hallowed bodies trapped in this expansive cave system were feeling ever more intricate by the minute. I waded through the water housing curious inhabitants, waiting, listening. 5 minutes… 10 minutes… 20 minutes… My sense of discovery and wonder was replaced by unbridled child-like frustration. My heart revved toward its physical limit rapidly and angrily, and with furious purpose. I wanted to scream until the escaping vibrations shook the next micro-ecosystem over. How dare I let myself fall for my own whimsical dreams and belief that something special was reaching into my stiff life and shaking with no intention of stopping. Clearly, I was dehydrated to the point of delirium and delusion. Somewhere during the day a neon spider must have hitched a ride and left its puny, vampiric mark behind. Exhaustion combined with supernatural beliefs being fed to me all day resulted in a strange dream. Reason arrogantly and aggressively usurped the helm of my cognition out of whimsy’s delicate grip. I decided it was time to sulk on my own for the remaining minutes we would be inside what now felt like a claustrophobic tourist destination. I shambled exaggeratedly out of liquid crystal, moving like a geriatric soul trapped in a young body. My knees buckled out from under me for a millisecond when the water was down to my ankles. Something shocked my feet with a tiny current; the sensation you get from trick pieces of chewing gum that tingle your fingers. Not exactly painful, certainly not pleasant. The alluring call of relaxation returned, riding a cool, refreshing breeze, trying to make its way onto the dance floor with my soul from what seemed like three musty chambers away. I wanted it to rend my existence once more. One for the road. I caught my tired body before I collapsed into jagged pebble peppered stone and almost let a crooked laugh escape my sandy throat. “So I'm not going mad!” I thought to myself. I shifted my weight backwards to let the pool envelope me, swimming quietly on my red back towards the circle my family formed. I did my best to tune out their incessant waffling that could potentially be overpowering any noise being made for me. I flipped over onto my feet and forcefully injected myself into their joyous conversation, “Do you guys hear that?” Conversation fell dead in the water, everyone listened, shook their heads no and began tossing gab’s dripping corpse between each other again. “Okay folks let’s head back to the bus and get going to the last Cenote of the day!” Guillermo’s voice blasted through the stone grotto like dynamite. The white noise bubbling in humid air ceased as soon as his first syllable rebounded against gray-green rock. I was absolutely frothing to be on our way, the rest of my family however was dragging their feet literally and figuratively. • • • It began to rain lightly, sucking any shred of morale further into the soft dirt beneath our blistering toes. No one really wanted to be there other than me, but it was part of the day's plan so Guillermo would make sure we completed his entire itinerary if it was his heroic martyr. Seventeen people sought refuge around dusty plastic tables under tired and sun bleached umbrellas. This seemingly forgotten pore on the complexion of our planet was hardly a sight to behold, it seemed completely devoid of life. No visible moss or fish and no trees or vines grew around the edges. No colorful iris juxtaposed my damp wood colored stare. Crystal clear hydration from heaven revealed every crack and crevice below. This ”cenote” stood completely alone, not connecting to the main cave system of the area like almost all do. Curiosity was getting the cat’s goat as I made my lonesome way down a staircase slippery in cold rain, leading to one of three rock platforms around this jagged kettle that seemed to boil under the sky's pressure relieving release. I planned to jump in with my eyes closed to, hopefully, get the full experience from the get-go. With no one trying to keep their hair dry near me, why not have a little fun with it? No matter how big of a splash I made, no one was anywhere close enough to get caught in the fallout. “Cannonball!” Echoed through the porous sponge that was temporarily taking my brains place as I curled into a ball and hurled myself into the abyss, ready to soak up whatever I would be placed in. Splash I reached the deepest point of my trajectory, gentle resistance brought my body to a halt. Everything was wrong. Liquid that universally will acquiesce to its container grew a thousand rounded points that poked and prodded into every part of my body. Where there was once enough resistance to propel myself upwards, was now a shifting slurry of pokey elbows and boney knees, all writhing over one another, fruitlessly and eternally searching for the surface. The abnormal chill of my environment sucked away my breath in half a heartbeat. My brain entered full fledged fight or flight mode, moving me with no input of my own. Primal fear lodged one action and one word into every muscle I have; ESCAPE. Even with my frenzied eyes forced to full moons, all I saw was black, there was no waters edge to be moving toward even if I figured out how to move properly. My cramping hands clawed and yanked at whatever they could, digging into and tearing apart what felt like rotten tropical fruit and their dense pits. My legs turned to useless anchors, each kick sunk me further into human composed quick sand. My desperate grip snapped apart invisible, crispy, hollow sounding bones of every shape and size. Each break was guttural and evoked more panic with each crackle and snap. I began to lose consciousness while my body was seizing and twitching every which way in vain Hail Mary attempts to grasp solid ground. I found myself painfully flopping on the rocks with my back to the water, slowly coming to, covered in tiny scrapes and tender sore spots from my getaway. Whether I was allowed to escape or somehow fought my way out didn’t matter to me. My heart was cramping and beating irregularly as I choked on my survival. My organs screamed in blasphemous unison what seemed to be my own requiem. Reality violently exploded into perspective and the godless symphony within me crumpled down and hid itself deep when someone spoke to me just out of view. “Why do you think no one else is down here Rat?” My older brother said with an unamused look on his face, tossing me my half wet towel “It’s freezing.” “Thanks.” Escaped from my chattering teeth. The entire ordeal was out of view from everyone, for better or worse. I felt unsatisfied, unsatiated, and greedy. I still didn’t understand what was happening, not that I planned on solving the jungles’ mysteries. I was just upset that the experience would end on that note. “How anticlimactic.” I found myself thinking. I fixed my jittery gaze on the infected pore, feeling a little let down. “Maybe if I stare long enough this one will open its eye as well?” I mopishly hoped. As cold as I felt, Guillermo’s words chilled my blood to its freezing point. “Unfortunately folks due to the weather, we will not be able to go snorkeling on the beach anymore, it’s not safe to be out there right now. However! As compensation for the inconvenience, we would like to offer you free food and drinks next to another Cenote you have not seen today!” I felt my heart skip a beat. It began slamming wildly against my lungs and seemed to rhythmically punch against my ribs, trying to escape. Our guide's words awoke a passionate drummer. I hadn't the smallest shed of an inkling the fellow lived in my cavernous, empty chest. Ecstatic is an understatement for the feeling of fullness that rose out of my quaking core after hearing the words of this beautiful messenger from God. The rest of the group unanimously decided this was a fair alternative to snorkeling as we had been walking and driving from place to place all day, a moment to relax sounded appealing. So onto Guillermo’s chariot we climbed, and down the winding hallway through the thick greenery our steed shambled. • • • The sky opened once again and our star began its thankless work of redistributing excess moisture throughout the air. A small squeaky clean cocktail cart struggled through the uneven terrain towards us, the sound of expensive bottles burst the ambient lullaby. Three overly attentive employees, dressed tightly in the compound's trademark collared white and gold uniforms, took food orders with blinding pearly whites on display. Happiness filled the clearing to its brink. Little plastic cups of pricey liquor swirled and were dumped down gullets with reckless abandon, chased with hearty and unifying laughter. The party carried on over my shoulder as I drew closer to the enigma that I hoped would deliver me. A 15 foot cliff rose above a pleasantly blue homogeneous waterhole. The color attempted to conceal the ground. From the precipice I was perched, I could tell I would never be able to reach the deepest depths here. Even if I dove head first and swam with ferocity downward, my lungs would burst before I touched limestone. So I did. Without giving it a second consideration, I flattened my body into the shape of a sharp pencil, my feet being the point, and plummeted toward my target. I intended to pierce the writhing digit with the weight of the world pulling me towards itself. As the muffling pressure swallowed me whole and halted gravity’s acceleration, I flipped upside down and began descending further. Having ripped and kicked through three armfuls of azure, I opened my eyes and had to force my breath from escaping as I took in a jaw dropping sight. All around me as far as I could see in the darkening blue, were gleaming specks of every color and blinding gold bits, slowly drifting into the infinite void extending forever and ever right over my inverted gaze. 360 degrees around me, bedazzling the clear heavens over my feet and blue murk below, intricately worked pieces of gold and loose precious gems drifted lazily one after another. My forceful descent was halted in its bubbly tracks, my jaw wanted so bad to slack in awe. Enough wits remained about me to know better. Every second I was suspended felt stretched into muddled millennia. Such vast amounts of time, holding separative power immeasurable on our metrics, made the concept begin to lose any concrete structure. The mouth I felt trapped in seemed to be passing back and forth over my soul with tastebuds the size of our bus, deciding if I tasted good or not. Every so often, a loud, commanding thump resonated through this microcosm. Every loose, forgotten piece stuck here, forever sinking deeper in formless aggregate, shook in perfect unison. All negative emotions melted away, dissolving into molten time. I was sinking much slower than all that glittered around me. I had no desire to move any muscles other than those in my neck in order to gulp as much as my greedy eyes could swallow. I blinked one too many times, and someone flipped the display off. I felt dizzy as the world around me seemed to instantaneously be walled off. As quickly as the show was shut down, my heart became aware of its extreme lack of fresh air. BOOM One… CRACK Two… SPLASH Three… Four… Five, six… Seven… Eight, nine and ten… Ten explosions burst one after the other. Cutting through mortar blasts all around me, my failing organs resumed their requiem while questionably clean water blasted against and past my bare eyes. I was 25 feet below the surface. I consider myself an exceptional swimmer, but exhaustion working with suffocation against my new goal of oxygen, caused this short distance to be the most strenuous task in my life to date. I emerged like a new born beast, startling the refreshed ten people who had jumped in while I was below. “What the-?!” “We didn’t even see you in here!” “We thought you were on a walk!” “Are you okay? Did anyone land on you?” People all around me, half amused, half confused, all talked at once at my shut ears. I didn’t respond. I took a few deep breaths before pushing my head into the cenote and diving as if I was a, one of one, fresh water sperm whale species. All there was in the gradient, were legs kicking against the invisible pull Earth produced. Frustration flickered again. It was these people’s fault. If they hadn’t jumped in, I’d still be down in my personal solar system. I began my angry ascent, and repeated variations of that same thought over and over. If they hadn’t jumped in, I’d still be down there. The weight of my outlandish fervor tethered itself to reality, almost pulling me to the untouchable ground like a boulder tied to my wrists. In my brief moment of clarity, the unnoticeable spell I was under petrified me. I surfaced, through catching my breath I responded to the 20 eyes coalesced on me, “Ya I’m fine, I thought I saw an iPhone down there. I can’t hold my breath long enough to touch the floor so it’ll rest there forever I guess. Haha!” “Really? I want to try!” My sister cheered. “If I grab it first, it’s mine, Rat.” My brother proposed. Both dove, my new drummer friend let loose between my ears waiting for them to come back up. 10 grueling seconds dug razor sharp claws over my whole body. splash “There’s nothing down there Rat.” My sister threw her words at me like a primitive spear. “I saw something down there.” My brother solemnly shared. “What? What did you see? Tell me.” I feverishly responded. “A ghost.” My heart sank as I was on the brink of having a conniption. “Here it comes!” He said with a firm push on the water in front of him, moving him back a foot. Tears were about to spill over my face. Pbbbt Bubbles rose behind him. He burst into obnoxious laughter. Deciding between rage and relief, a smile crept onto my face. I splashed water into his face and momentarily forgot how close I was to browning the water. “Last call for food and drink orders!” Guillermo called like a caring mother from the precipice above. I knew we would definitely not be seeing anymore cenotes, and with my brother's age old prank, hunger tore into my guts. I joined the remainder of my group and ordered half the menu. I did my absolute best to push this experience deep into the recesses of my mind for the remainder of the vacation. It was effortless at first, but the seed sneakily stuck onto my soul had yet to bear fruit. Upon my return to Arizona, roots festered within. • • • It started harmlessly enough with pleasant dreams of being around or in a cenote. Backstroking in warm water, only to wake slick in my own self produced pond, the sheets revealing a dark, wet outline extending several inches past where my motionless body laid. Each dream showed me a different site. Sites I hadn’t seen with my own two eyes. If I dreamt the same place, the most notable difference was the color of the ponds. Clear, brown, red, blue, green, gold, and gray were all hues I witnessed. On rare occasions it was nighttime or cloudy out, but it was perfectly sunny and warm for the most part. As the visions increased in intensity and quantity, my sleep felt less and less restful. No matter how many hours I laid unconscious, I arose ever more tired. Anxiety blossomed and rapidly spread over my existence starting from the crown of my head to the round points of my feet that keep me rooted and upright. Every new room I stepped into brought panic and a heart pounding sense of atmospheric pressure closing in on all sides. Standing or sitting in a room with people plunged me in cold sweat. The safest, most relaxing place I could be was in my room. I chose to build and reinforce the cage that grew smaller on its own every day. My chrysalis felt incomplete, empty, and dead. I manically searched my family home for anything I could assimilate into my cocoon to bring any sense of comfort. Maybe a forgotten drawing, an old picture of myself, a dusty toy I used to play with, an old gaming console I used to sit with for hours, dvd’s I grew up watching, anything. Sitting on a windowsill, dusted in skin flakes, dog dander, hair, and dirt, sat a sight for desperate, bloodshot eyes. A healthy, poorly maintained, hydroponic bamboo plant from Ikea. My manically pulsing heart slowed ever so slightly and my skin grew tiny little bumps of excitement all over. I was barely hanging onto my job at this point, my lack of sleep and overarching sense of fear, discomfort, inability to focus, paranoia, and ostracism sent my performance six feet into worm wiggling earth. I grew angry with no outlet. I wanted to shut the world out more every day. I was furious that I had fallen for this trap. Fuming that I had swallowed these things carefully laid bait. Hook, line, and sinker, I could feel the rod tightening inch by inch, hour by hour and it enraged me. I know after thrashing in the soup for as long as I can, I will be pulled in, floating lifelessly on my side. I’m going to be scooped up in a net to be bled, gutted, descaled, cooked with aromatics and butter before my bones will be tossed somewhere into Mother Nature. It all melted away for a second as I grabbed the bamboo’s water stained vase and brought it into my bedroom. Gingerly placing the young bamboo plant I named Bo on my nightstand, I promptly fell into the deepest slumber I had in the three months since my vacation to those god forsaken, infected appendages littered across that hallowed swathe of foliage. My dream that night followed a group's expedition unto a distant, foreign land where rumors claim treasures sat in pools of enchanted water. Grottos brimmed with prosperity eternal. Righteous gods laid claim and rewarded those who were devout. Through an echo of the distant past, I saw 5 men. Four including myself were rapidly scouring the floor of what I call “the infected pore” cenote. Two were standing on stone platforms around the waters edge holding large leather bags in one hand and grabbing dripping gold jewelry from us four with the other. I used both hands to sift through brown sludge, pulling anything solid to the surface. My hands filled up with ounce after ounce of pure gold jewelry when I heard five air cutting, ephemeral whistles preceding five ugly thuds, crescendoing into two synchronized splashes. The sinkhole, clouded with brown sediment, was being taken over by crimson. Five bodies laid face down, small bubbles escaped their agape mouths in neat columns. My looting party adorned skewers, the chiseled flint tips were safely tucked away between hemispheres of gray matter. Their last moments overflowed with greed and misguided fervor. They appeared peaceful, as if snorkeling, before being obscured by the slurry of color fighting for dominance. I raised my hands in surrender. Heavy gold rings, anklets, bracelets, and head pieces tumbled from my grasp, splashing into colorful murk all around me. Surrounded by bow-wielding people speaking a different language than me, a sharp whistle somewhere behind me woke me from the hazy memory that didn't belong to me. I felt rested. • • • Another restless month dragged me by my hair before I lost my job. “Lack of motivation.” They told me. Depression and anxiety became screaming monkeys on my back. My parents could tell and told me to take all the time I needed to recover. I had some savings meant for moving out and a new car, dipping into that nest egg would be a small price to pay for my sanity we figured. Therapy begat none. Medication was a bust. Change of lifestyle; wasted energy. The sleeping visions were none existent. Thinking back to what worked last time, I got abstract and bought three house plants for my bedroom, desperate to wake up feeling like I actually rested. One more bamboo plant and two leafy ficus. I threw my nightly handful of Benadryl, sleeping pills, and melatonin down before wrapping my shaky body in dank blankets and shutting my eyes, trying to ignore the constant hot claminess persistently stuck to my skin. My vision was overtaken by buzzing gold light, my lactic acid filled muscles faded into bright holiness. As I became aware of it, something snapped its fingers, my body returned and collapsed onto unforgiving wood floor, my dark sunken eyes honed their stabby, tired look with purpose of their own, onto a hanging dogwood cross with inlaid gold seams. A precious gift left to me by my grandparents. I felt limp enough to sink through the ground. In my priceless newly returned clarity, I went out and bought three gallons of gold paint, two green, and ten more leafy friends. Over the course of two headache filled, sleepless days, I began by laying brown butcher paper over my entire floor and moving everything out of my room. Every supply I needed was lying around the house somewhere, I just needed to ask permission. At his wits end of how to help, my project went unopposed by my dad. I carefully covered my bedroom’s white trim in blue painters tape and furiously spread glossy gold paint evenly over every wall and the ceiling. Before it had dried, I dipped my hands in green paint to abstractly throw globs into the rough shape of bushes and trees. Once I felt satisfied with the ratio, I fell onto my butt and gave myself a much needed break. I spread eagle with hands that grew encrusted in paint and passed out. I was walking through the jungle, trees moved aside with every step I took forward. My path was lined in puny solid gold crucifixes, 2x1 inches, protruding perfectly vertical from hallowed dirt. The further I walked, the distance between crosses grew larger. I wasn’t far from someone standing with their hands comfortably resting behind their back. It was Guillermo, bearing his overly toothy smile and jubilation lined eyes. The photographer hid out of view, constantly sending bright flashes at us with a mechanical click and frantic scurry to capture as many angels as possible. Guillermo extended both arms as if to embrace me. I raised my own, only to see filthy, false jungle green hands rise from the bottom of my vision. His face contorted into a hideous frown before he pushed me firmly to the floor. Refreshed and wide awake, I became aware of my hands painfully tightened around the dogwood cross that I had stored in the next room over with all my other belongings. It was covered in green paint from my hands. The sudden sensation of unimaginable filth blasted into my cocoon. I opened my window to let the blistering Arizona air in. I ran to the bathroom I share with my brother to cleanse my body and heirloom in steamy, sudsy water. With my whole body red from scrubbing with a loofah, I began deep cleaning my pseudo wilderness. I tore the now brown-green paper from the ground, pulled off the half gold painters tape, moved my 14 leafy plants all around the room's edge, and decided I didn’t need any of my furniture. Not even my bed, I replaced it with an open sleeping bag. Every night before laying to rest, I watered all 14, the humidity was almost thick enough to sustain a fish. The remainder of my nest egg was thrown at pure gold jewelry, ordered online from my sparklingly clean cocoon. 10 rings, 4 bracelets, 3 delicate necklaces, and a crown bedazzled in lab grown emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and amethysts. I spent day and night obsessively dusting and pruning my chlorophyll family and laying motionless on the hard ground in my silent bedroom, hoping and praying to greet Guillermo on his home turf through my restless visions. I never took my jewelry off, even to shower three times a day. The incessant stickiness growing through my pores drove me mad and made me feel utterly filthy. I washed my hands and face over 20 times a day. My family looks at me sideways. I don’t care anymore. We are currently in Mexico City to celebrate Day of the Dead. I haven’t told any of them yet, but I plan on staying here. I have my eyes set on a new job. submitted by /u/Derick_Mtz to r/creepcast [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/RareSun_ to r/BarbaraWalters4Scale [link] [comments]

Tried to give it a mix of realistic and unsettling submitted by /u/RareSun_ to r/AntiPiracyScreens [link] [comments]

I became a renter for the first time in my mid 30's, pretty late in life. Before that, I'd been on the other side of things. I'm a landlord and developer, which I realize doesn't endear me to most readers, but in my partial defence, I've built everything that I own, and with my own hands for the first few years. I started doing painting, finishing carpentry/millwork/cabinetmaking to make money during university, and when I graduated I had saved up enough to get horribly into debt at an extremely high interest rate which I had to build my way out of. The first place I lived in after the dorm was a dangerously neglected warehouse that I had just bought, and ended up reconstructing into a fourplex - I lived there for the next 10 years while subsequently getting into new greenfield rental developments. Just before COVID I ended up selling that first place I had built, and the buyer wanted me out so they could raise the rent to market. This was to be my first time getting "evicted," but the pain was numbed by the sale price during that huge market runup. I also thought it might be tricky to navigate being a tenant in a building that I had built and owned for years. I decided to treat myself by renting a condo downtown - a huge step up from my previous 1 bedroom that was chosen for its ROI rather than owner-occupancy appeal. I spent around 3 months looking at dozens of places and built up a good sense of the rental market as my pride insisted I get the best deal possible. I quickly learned that the market that had been so favourable to me The Landlord was extremely difficult for me The Tenant. I got incredibly lucky when I took a chance and viewed a condo on craigslist that had no photos in the listing, never a good sign. It turned out the lack of photos was not an attempt to cover up, but simply the inability of the owner to work a digital camera (he did not have a smartphone.) It was perfect - 2005ish building, floor to ceiling glass, high floor with 270 degree views, A/C, open layout, well priced. The only problem? Very worn out, shabby 2005ish kitchen and bathroom, and the reddest looking cherry wood flooring you could imagine. Horrible cheap honey coloured fake wood veneer cabinets, gloss black appliances. Brushed aluminum finish everywhere, lots of frosted glass on the light fixtures. A simpler time. The landlord seemed like he would be pretty hands-off, and my application pitch was that if he was okay with it, I would take care of maintenance myself and just e-transfer him rent every month and not bother him. He loved the sound of that. He said he had bought a house in the suburbs and wanted to keep this condo for rental income for about 10 years until he retired - there are pretty strong tenant rights where I live, so long as he didn't sell there were no "no fault" eviction options. We signed the tenancy agreement, paid the deposit and moved in. The last time I saw him was during the move-in inspection, after which he exclaimed “If you treat this place well, I promise you can stay here as long as you want!” Big, firm, job-interview winning boomer handshake, and he was gone. We loved the new place – a complete change from the “up and coming” part of town we had just left, 400 feet above the street. The absolutely horrible kitchen, bathrooms and floors haunted me, but I had a plan and it was only a matter of time. One of my carpentry/millwork subs did a lot of retail tenant improvement as well as... model homes and apartments for much bigger developers. When you are building a 30 story highrise, you typically spend a few hundred grand to several million mocking up a unit in a retail showroom somewhere offsite to help you collect deposits. After the building sells out? That stuff gets either junked or sold on craigslist. When I was doing single digit unit buildings, I had bought a number of new old stock appliances, cabinets, flooring etc out of a marketing manager's garage for cash... A few months later and it's the summer of 2020 and COVID is in full swing, and my carpenter emails me - one of his clients is cancelling their project, and since they are ghosting him on his draw, he is taking down their display unit. The drawings show an almost exact match to my unit in terms of dimensions. The spec sheet is jaw-dropping: almost 20' of Snaidero cabinets, gloss white with champagne bronze hardware, Sub Zero/Wolf appliance package, white marble counters and back splash, Kallista faucets... easily $100,000+ retail not including install. Oh, and 1200 square feet of herringbone light oak planks if I don't mind pulling them up myself. How much does he want? $10k cash. Well, my jobsite is shut down for the foreseeable future, the government is making 75% of my payroll and I don't have anything to do except stare at my awful kitchen all day. After about 3 hours with my measuring tape and pencil, I ask my carpenter if he is willing to join my bubble for $40/hr cash for a few weekends. He is. One last step - email my landlord and ask if he doesn't mind me doing a complete renovation on his condo. Crucially, I conclude the offer with "I'll undertake to return it to move-in condition before I leave." Not surprisingly, he accepts. "That's okay, do whatever you want, we love having you as a tenant." Time to go to work. I get the old kitchen out in about 2 days, hampered by my need to work quietly as I'm doing this without permits (not like they are doing inspections anyways, but still..). A side effect of this slow pace (and my wife's current obsession with Marie Kondo) is that everything is removed intact, and carefully taped and labelled. Taking out the old kitchen does indeed spark joy. The old floating cherry wood floor comes up in a morning, also tagged and labelled and bundled in the order it was removed. The carpenter comes over, and he gets the "new" kitchen installed in less than 2 days while I lay down the floor. The floor actually ended up taking me a week, mainly because I had to make the end cuts at my storage unit across town, since I definitely couldn't run a mitre saw with everyone at home during lockdown. After just under 2 weeks, I had effectively a brand new, ultra high end condo for just under $12,000 out of pocket. At this point I'm sure everyone reading this is facepalming as they wonder why on earth I'm proud of renovating someone else's condo at my cost - it did make sense at the time, as I was under the impression I'd be there for a good 10 years - plus the fact I was paying about $500/month under market at move-in, and more like $1500/month under market in the current condition. There are a variety of economic and market conditions and segments where it makes more financial sense to rent than it does to buy. For example, my monthly rent would not have even covered the interest portion of a mortgage, let alone condo fees, insurance, taxes and the opportunity cost of the downpayment. In other words, it was cheaper to rent the condo than it was to rent the money that I would need to buy the condo. Also, as a builder, cash is a critical tool, and the more cash I can hold onto, the bigger I can build. With my 1 year lease, and the fact I had lots of free time, it didn't seem like such a reckless move. And who can say no to a $2000 kitchen faucet. Filling a glass of water feels like working the bolt on a well-oiled Holland & Holland rifle. Worst case I could probably get most of it back by selling just the appliances if something unexpected happened. Which it did. I had undertaken all this after evaluating all the possibilities and weighing the risk of putting time and money into a place I don't own. I had failed to consider one important detail - the wife. By the spring of 2023 the upgrades had, in my opinion, paid for themselves after nearly 36 months of use. I hadn't seen the landlord since I moved in and he hadn't been in touch since approving my renovation except for the monthly confirmation he'd accepted my rent transfer - so naturally I began to get concerned when by the end of the first week of May, he hadn't deposited my rent. Two emails went unanswered, until there was a knock on the door. I opened up and was hit with a wall of flowery perfume, which perfectly matched the wall of floral print and red heels standing in my doorway. The landlord had contracted COVID (in 2023!) and sent his wife to collect the rent. I get out my phone to cancel the transfer and go into my office to look for my chequebook. I come back to find her (still in her heels!!) standing in the middle of the living room spinning like a technicolour top. "Oh wow, this looks fabulous! I heard you were doing some renos but I never thought it would look like this! Is that a Sub ZERO fridge?" She opens the fridge. My fridge. "I looove the floors.. and are these custom cabinets?" She turns the kitchen faucet on and off probably 6 times. It took days to air out the smell of perfume after she left. Several hours later my wife came home, and given the lingering smell in the apartment, I'd already briefed her on who had stopped by. “Fuck. I can tell by the smell she's seeing dollar signs.” Sure enough, 3 weeks later I get a call from a realtor who wants to schedule the photographer to take listing photos as the landlords are selling. Of course the landlord, who has now recovered from his COVID, will not take my calls and won't respond to my emails. I'm upset that he doesn't have the courage to admit what he is doing, my wife is upset because she doesn't want to move, and I'm feeling embarrassed that I trusted this guy... I'm not really losing much since we've lived there for 3 years and paid tens of thousands less than market rent during that time... but it still stings. Even in the slow market the place sells in 3 weeks and yes, the new owners want to move in. They give me the required 3 month's notice and pay the 1 month rent compensation. I note that the listing has advertised “Exquisitely renovated with top of the line appliances, cabinets and built-ins. No expense spared.” My first instinct was to at least contact the realtor and suggest he check with the landlord about what was included with the apartment, and what was being represented, but the description in the listing infuriated my wife to such an extent that we agreed to let them do their own due diligence. I think you can all guess where this is going. This time it only took 3 days to pull the "new" kitchen out and put the "old" kitchen back in. Same with the floors - turns out you can lay 1000 square feet of flooring in about 2 hours if it's all pre-cut and labelled. But, some of the T&G was a bit loose so I made sure to glue that bitch down to the concrete nice and tight to make sure it doesn't creak or pop. It's exceptionally cheap so it's going to splinter and separate if it ever needs to come back up... The old Home Depot Glacier Bay $49 kitchen faucet unfortunately started leaking when I put it back in, so I treated the new owners to a brand new replacement (now $60). The new one leaked as well, but not much, and only when it was on. I re-watched the move-in inspection video to refresh my memory and made sure everything was exactly as it was when I moved in, right down to a few small holes in the drywall - I had also forgotten that the old oven control board was fried which meant it kept shutting off every 10 minutes. My wife and I debated leaving a wireless camera up on the wall to capture the new owner's delight at how faithfully we upheld our tenancy agreement as unfortunately we moved out about a week before their planned move in date but there was/is (still?) a reasonable chance of getting sued so we opted not to, as intent is half the battle. I don't actually know what happened since I've ignored the dozens of phone calls from the landlord and the new owners, and just sent them a registered letter with my tenancy agreement, move-in inspection video on DVD and a copy of the email exchange with the landlord from 2020 where he allowed me to renovate the condo provided I put everything back the way it was when I moved in. I did get a text from the realtor calling me a petty, vindictive asshole and that I'm lucky I'm not getting sued (implying that my landlord probably IS getting sued, and furthermore, one or all of them has looked into suing me and were advised against it.) The concierge recently told me that nobody has moved into the condo yet which presents another intoxicating possibility - because the new owners evicted us for their personal use, according to the tenancy law, if they fail to move in within 6 months they owe me a full year's rent as compensation for a fraudulent eviction. I still haven't bought a place, I ended up unfortunately having to pay a fair bit more in rent to move upstairs in the same building, with a different layout but thankfully much nicer finishings. I have an alert set for the building that tells me if a unit gets listed – I'm ready to make an offer if there is a fixer upper that comes up for sale - I even have a kitchen that might just fit. submitted by /u/IknowwhatIhave to r/pettyrevenge [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/Significant_Smell284 to r/nickelodeon [link] [comments]

It was during a trip to Rochester, NY for Thanksgiving. In the middle of the disc, the batteries in my headphones became weak, causing the audio to become very distorted. We got replacement batteries in Erie, PA. submitted by /u/Significant_Smell284 to r/BubbleGuppies [link] [comments]

Cannibal! The Musical on Blu-ray from refusefilms.com Hey guys, I'm Liam Regan from the boutique Blu-ray label Refuse Films. I wish to clear up some confusion regarding our Refuse Films TromArchive Collection release and Vinegar Syndrome's Degausser Video release of Trey Parker's Cannibal! The Musical**.** Refuse Films is a small UK production company. We've produced and self-distributed the Blu-ray titles My Bloody Banjo and Eating Miss Campbell. Once my 13-year day job was terminated, I decided to extend our production company to a homegrown Blu-ray label, offering boutique Blu-ray releases to underground genre movies. Due to my lifelong love and relationship with Troma Entertainment, I wanted to release comprehensive editions of their most popular titles and hidden gems in their catalogue and give these movies (which I've been watching since I was only 11 years old) the high-quality boutique Blu-ray treatment they deserve. Our main breakout title was always going to be Cannibal! The Musical and Refuse Films licensed this title, along with The Toxic Avenger & Sgt. Kabukiman NYPD back in May 2023. From May 2023 onwards, Refuse Films has been working with producer Jason McHugh on this Blu-ray release; I journeyed from the UK to Colorado, Los Angeles, and New York to unarchive the never-before-seen footage, behind-the-scenes clips and interview as many of the cast and crew as we could for our Blu-ray release. Vinegar Syndrome's vague announcement regarding its contents, transfer, and special features has raised many questions about the similarities between the two labels and their releases of Cannibal! The Musical Refuse Films is a tiny, independent boutique Blu-ray label. We currently have five titles available, and many more are slated for release each quarter. Your support of our release of Cannibal! The Musical will help us release more significant titles in the future. We thank everybody who has taken a chance on a Refuse Films Blu-ray release, and we promise to give each release the love and respect it deserves. You can pre-order Cannibal! The Musical on Blu-ray from RefuseFilms.com Please feel free to ask any questions below; I'll happily answer them as much as possible. Why are there two releases? The Digital Bits broke the news about our World Blu-ray Premiere of Cannibal! The Musical on Monday morning, and around six hours later, Vinegar Syndrome posted its announcement, even though their announcement was initially scheduled for November. Even though we are a UK-based company, we believe in producing and creating Blu-ray releases that can be shipped worldwide, much like every other boutique Blu-ray company, including Vinegar Syndrome. International imports have always been part of the physical media culture and predate the internet. Unfortunately, Vinegar Syndrome's knee-jerk announcement has caused many people to request the cancellation of our Blu-ray release of Cannibal! The Musical. Are you using the same transfer? Refuse Films located the original Betacam master tape in the Summer of 2023 while travelling to the Troma archives in NYC. We digitised the master tape and then worked alongside Mark Brindle of Maniac Films to manually remaster Cannibal! The Musical in high definition. The Refuse Films release is also a frame-by-frame remaster, which took six months to complete. For more information regarding the remastering process, please read Mark Brindle's process in The Digital Bits article. I can confirm that our high-definition transfer has been approved by Robert Muratore, the director of photography of Cannibal! The Musical, and it is exclusive to Refuse Films. Why does shipping cost $16? We are a UK-based company, and the cheapest we can send a Blu-ray in a trackable way is $16. Our shipping includes a sturdy cardboard box and bubble wrap to protect the Blu-ray. Our shipping is fully trackable for our customers and is requested to be signed for, too. Shipping usually takes 5 to 7 working days to be received internationally from the UK. Are the special features different on each release? Our new in-house-produced special features are exclusive to our Refuse Films release. These include but are not limited to a new audio commentary with producer Jason McHugh, cast and crew interviews, an optional remastered stereo track, and a brand new HD remaster of the movie, approved by the director of photography, Robert Muratore. To reflect our TromArchive Collection brand, we sourced all the adjacent footage from the darkest depths of the Troma archives. This footage features fully uncut interviews with Trey Parker and Matt Stone, which have only been available in short edited extras on past releases. We also include all the special features that have appeared on previous DVD and VHS releases of Cannibal! The Musical. Will the UK release of Alferd Packer: The Musical be available on the Vinegar Syndrome release? We can't confirm what's on the Vinegar Syndrome release of the movie. Still, I can confirm that we're using the original 1993 UK master from the now-defunct British distribution label Screen Edge. Screen Edge was the first distributor for the movie, and Refuse Films came full circle as the first distributor to license and release the movie on the Blu-ray format. Will the original inebriated audio commentary featuring Trey Parker & Matt Stone from 2000 be available on the Blu-ray? All audio commentaries, including a brand-new audio commentary, will be available on our release. Does your release come with a slipcover? All our Blu-ray releases come in an American-sized slipcover, just like all your favourite boutique Blu-ray labels. Fudge Packer? 😲 https://reddit.com/link/1fpd7s1/video/3esc6bwzzyqd1/player submitted by /u/AdministrationOk4721 to r/boutiquebluray [link] [comments]

Original Post (with picture), by me: https://www.reddit.com/r/trashy/comments/3aqxmm/when_my_uncle_died_his_insane_fiance_gave_this/ I've wanted to repost this story somewhere for awhile because there was SO MUCH and I have some updates on the chaos this woman caused in my family's lives. Trigger warnings: Racism Mood spoilers: Amusement, sadness, mild frustration QUICK BACKSTORY: My uncle died of brain cancer. Stacy was his "fiancée" that he only proposed to since he was dying (as he told his friends). While dying, he decided to make my mom the executrix of his will. He also decided to stop paying taxes. He had a good chunk of money promised to his daughter ad Stacey...which was not nearly the amount anyone thought since he stopped paying taxes. Plus pending lawsuits and such. Uncle also owned a successful roofing company. His portion was bought out by his business partner due to lack of funds for the estate. Stacey didn't understand this and thought she owned the company and kept trying to fight for things she had no rights to. She also thought my family were stealing money from the estate and believed a $10,525 was stolen when in reality that was the cost of the funeral and flowers. She was a lot. Part 1: Just because I was reminded of this, I had to work with this woman for a couple years and she was a fucking nightmare. This is a letter I gave to my boss which he gave to the lawyer so we could remove her from the company (my uncle owned a fairly large roofing business at the time of his death). I changed her name to Stacy for this. In various occurrences, we feel in the workplace we are in an unsafe environment working with Stacy. She does not follow rules, or respect anyone in the office. She often throws around racial slurs and lies. On two occurrences she has nearly burned down the warehouse. She makes the workplace uncomfortable to most of the employees in ROOFING. Stacy has been asked numerous times to stop smoking in the warehouse, this includes the bathroom. The Clean Air Act of Pennsylvania protects the workplace from unwanted second hand smoke from those that do smoke. Stacy has disregarded these rules even after “No Smoking” signs were placed around the building and has been asked numerous times by employees and MR. ROOFING, the owner, to please discontinue these habits in the workplace. On two occurrences, Stacy did not put the cigarette out and tossed the butts. A trashcan directly in front of the office door had begun to smoke before being notified to put it out. A second time, in the same area she inadvertently caught a mop on fire. As a reminder we work in a warehouse where many flammable items are kept here including rubber, propane, wood, various chemicals, etc. We are located with I-95 about 10ft from our office window. If something severe was to happen, they would be in danger as well. Stacy lacks respect for all those around her. One occurrence, a former employee came in and the two began saying racial jokes against blacks including, throwing around the word “n*****,” leading the other secretary and myself to feel rather uncomfortable. When asked why she would say “n*****” she mentioned that she has black friends and that “it's okay” for her to say it. It is a derogatory term and if she has friends in the black community I'm sure they wouldn't be “okay” with her saying such a term. On other occurrences she would talk bad about our employees to disgruntled customers as if to egg them on. She would even use us derogatory terms for Jews and Mexicans. She also often complains in our office about how we don't hire more 'white people.' When we hired a 'white person' as a new estimator she has done nothing but harass him despite him bringing good business into our company. She would rather dwell on his bad history than see what good he has done for our company. In January of 2010, her son was unfortunately murdered. He was murdered by Puerto Rican's and has since began calling them 's***.' When a new employee was hired by ROOFING she said to the one estimator that he was a 's***.' When asked why she would call him that without ever even meeting the boy, she replied that Puerto Rican's murdered her son so that's just how she feels. The estimator did point out her ignorance on how not all Puerto Rican's are bad just because her son was murdered by some boys of the same descent. Stacy is often high and disoriented to what she does in this office. She is frequently scolded for her actions and too incoherent to talk to customers. Some customers have even been turned away by the sound of her voice on the phone. She slurs, mumbles, and barely sounds audible at times. When asked if she's high she denies it and becomes defensive. When asked not to do something she normally does the opposite and then complains after being scolded. I have heard her, on various occasions, change the story to family members on the phone to make herself look like the victim. She does little work in this office. We don't find her to be a productive member of this staff unless she is having one of her “good” days. A good day she is often bubbly and audible. She can speak to customers in a polite manner and get work done. Unfortunately these days are few to none anymore. In the beginning of December, Stacy purchased her first home. You would think this would be a good thing as she was living with her sister prior. Her sister lived maybe a half hour away. At this time Stacy would almost always arrive to work on time if not earlier. Since moving, Stacy's home is now located no more than 15 minutes from the shop. She is often always late and complaining of traffic even though where she's coming from has little traffic. The weeks leading up to her buying the home, Stacy spent about 90% of the day on the phone with realtors and family. She was constantly asking for loans from friends, and often MR. ROOFING, so she could buy this home. When asked to help with the phones (because she wasn't working when on her cell phone) she would promptly put the customer on hold to continue her conversations. She often uses company time to be on her cellphone. Most of the work day, Stacy spends most of her time on her phone. A common joke, which even she agrees with, is that the bathroom is her office because she spends so much time there. She would often go in there to either smoke or take private calls during company time. Every Thursday we know that Stacy has therapy. If one is to mention her absence she threatens to that she cannot be punished for going to therapy. We honestly have no problem with her going to therapy. We know she needs it but the fact that her one hour therapy session draws out to be an all day ordeal. Prior to this being an all day ordeal, she would be come in at around 1:30pm which is still late for an appointment that normally takes place from either 10am-11am or 11am-12pm. In recent days the company is forced to hide supplies from her. This includes stamps, toilet paper, trash bags, and paper towels. In one occurrence after being given keys to open the bathroom we found that she stole 3 keys off of the key ring, forcing us to change the locks. We do understand she has a percentage of this company but everything in the workplace is not up for her taking. She often demands money from the estate in the workplace which is highly inappropriate. Her constant money issues should not be brought up in the workplace. This includes complaining about how she deserves a raise which absolutely appalls the other secretary and I in the office. In conclusion, we feel Stacy should no longer work in this office. She constantly brings moral down and is a poor worker in the workplace. We feel this company would be better off without her. We would be better off training a new employee to do her job than keeping her with this company. PART 2: I don't have many photos of her as we never really welcomed her to the family since she's a train wreck but I do have stories from when I worked with her. So for awhile, my boss had me documenting what she did for awhile and I have some of the files saved on google drive still so I can share these: PS: Sorry they are out of order. Tuesday August 23rd, 2011 Stacy barely spent any time in the office on this day. She was in and out of the office all morning and claiming she has OCD and needed to clean the bathroom and office (which we cleaned last week). She has never claimed having this OCD before. This was in between constant breaks on her cellphone and cigarette breaks. She was inaudible on the phones and around 12:15 she decided she wanted to get some “exercise.” I’m assuming from the empty cigarette carton that she was buying more cigarettes up from check cashing. In which she drove to. About a half hour later she returned and said she was hungry and that she was going to get a hoagie. She left about 10 minutes later. Now during her time away the earthquake happened. The earthquake happened a little before 2. She came back to the office at about 2:15. She began telling us how she was at home when the earthquake happened. This is during work hours. She shouldn’t be going home for lunch for over an hour. She told us before she left that she was running to the “bodego” down the street to get a hoagie. When she came back, BOSS called the office and she had the nerve to tell him that she was here when the earthquake happened and that we all ran outside. Now despite being back she decided again that her OCD was affecting her. She mopped the office and straightened up the place. She also stole the DVD player that was in the office. She then left again because she was thirsty and wanted a soda, despite our fridge being full of water that she could freely take. This was at about 4:00 and returned 20 minutes later in which she drove to the gas station around the corner. She was clearly on something all day. When anyone mentioned this to her she would say how she didn’t get much sleep the night before. She was clearly slurring on the phone and constantly rambling about things. She actually sounded very intoxicated. Tuesday August 30th, 2011 Stacy arrived in the office at 9:30 this morning. Her scheduled work time is 9am. She arrived bringing her grandson. This is a very inappropriate workplace for a child. We are inundated with work. We can’t be entertaining children here. Upon BOSS questioning whether she had court today. She took to her cellphone and called her lawyer and was on the phone with him and possibly other people for about 20-30 minutes. She then complained about how we do not have time clocks, even though she would abuse it every time she stepped out of the room for one of her many “breaks.” She stepped out to her car for 5 minutes 10:31-10:36 to get a sweatshirt from her car. She did not return with a sweatshirt. At some point, she did randomly clean the bathroom, leaving her grandson with us in the office. Once again, it’s been very busy in the office and she didn’t do much work, as she was taking to entertaining her grandson. Stacy began searching through files on BOOKEEPER’S computer and printing out anything she could find. It’s easy to find what she was printing and basically she was trying to find any sign of properties that BOSS owns. The only reason we knew what she was doing was because her grandson kept nagging her so he could play on said computer. (She believed she had a right to these properties despite the fact BOSS bought out all the properties and she still believed her dead fiancé owned the properties). She left at about 12:55 to take her grandson home. She returned at 2:25 and brought food with her and ate it here. She began working at 2:45. At 3:25 she started cleaning the bathroom while taking a cigarette break and talking to the workers on the floor. She returned at 3:50, sat down at the desk, and then left again 5 minutes later to sweep the stairs our front our office. There is tons of paperwork that needs to be done that is sitting on her desk. At 4:00 she returned and began doing work. Personal call at 4:15 to a bank. Ended call at 4:30. Due to the lack of phones working she had only taken 3 estimates, about 6 service calls, and her main job was to look up the service calls in the computer and print out the paper work. About 25-30 of those were printed by her today in the 8 hours she was supposed to be working. She decided to stay til 5:30 to make up for the half hour she missed (nothing about the hour and a half she went missing for). Monday, August 15th, 2011 Stacy has spent much of the day in the office, with the occasional cigarette break. She’s been ranting and saying negative things about SUPERVISOR and the company due to the wide range of service calls (caused by hurricane). She complained how the company went down hill after her boyfriend passed last year. Thursday August 25th Stacy arrived in the office at 9am, with the DVD player. She came inside the office about 10 times vaguely disoriented. She misplaced her phone, so she ripped the phone out of EMPLOYEE’S hand (who was about to make a call to a customer) so she could call her cell phone. Her cellphone was in her bra. She claimed she went to therapy the day before then supposedly went there today as well. We are suspicious because she brought FIANCE’S DAUGHTER and her daughter STACY’s ADULT DAUGHTER with her. She never returned to the office. Monday August 29th Stacy arrived at work on time though, despite probably being the busiest day this company has ever faced (hurricane over the weekend), she barely spent much time in the office. Due to the phones not really working and being forwarded to a cellphone she was needed to pull up the contracts for the service calls. At around 10:30 she left and returned some 20 minutes later having run around the corner for a soda and snacks. She was also in and out a few times when Tina came in the building and a few other times to talk on her cellphone/smoke a cigarette. She actually left around 1pm to meet with someone at her home about installing her TV. Her daughter, who happens to be in her late 20’s and is also currently unemployed, was home at this time. Her daughter even called the office on her mother’s cellphone. Stacy actually returned to the office at around 4:30-6. We only work until 5. From a comment, about her son who was murdered: So her son was stabbed in a drug deal gone wrong, her daughter (who has her own 2 kids) has been in and out of rehab for meth, and the youngest son is in jail for shooting someone. Her story was amazing because I think she believed his bizarre story. The story was something like he and his friend were drunk (or high) and were driving through a neighborhood where they hit every car on the block. The guys felt bad and went back to leave their insurance information on all the cars but everyone on the block came outside due to all the commotion. One man got angry and appeared to reach for a gun so her son panicked and grabbed the gun he had under his seat and shot first. The guy lived but he's in jail now. The end. PART 3: I’m trying to go back mentally from 4-5 years or so ago. I didn’t know Stacy well when she dated my uncle as I’ve said before, I wasn’t super close to him. He was a good guy. Had trouble with the law, was in jail for a while, came out and made a life for himself. Ended up owning a pretty big roofing company in Philadelphia before he passed. I know they met because Stacy was married to one of his friends and this friend went to jail and the day he was sent to prison, she showed up at the worksite my uncle was working wearing a dress. He believed she was a real classy lady (he never had great taste in women). And like that they hit it off. They were together for a long time too. I have no idea what he saw in her but whatever. In early 2009 I worked in the roofing company for a week. I wasn’t doing much besides scanning and my uncle didn’t like the fact I didn’t know how to handle the phones (Stacy never taught me because she was constantly afraid of being replaced because she was incapable of using the computer like an adult.) Then I went into the Disney College Program and did my thing for a while. When I returned, my dad made me go back to the roofing company because he didn’t like me being home and unemployed. When I came in I was with Stacy’s wonderful sister Sunshine. She was super kind and I loved her there. Stacy was supposedly taking care of my uncle but later we found out she was barely around. Drugs, running to the store for hours at a time, etc. She was also coping with the death of her eldest son in January 2010 from a drug deal gone badly so she was already worse off than before so this is why a lot of us pitied her for a while. My uncle passed away in March of 2010. His suffering had ended and I was part of the team to hold the company together during this time. About 2 weeks later, she showed up. Her sister and I tried to convince her to go home because she clearly wasn’t ready to come back to work. Now, the reason she came back was because she knew she was at risk now of losing this job now that my uncle had passed. Maybe if she waited longer, things would have been normal but she was off her rocker at this point. Yes, she lost her boyfriend of many years and her son in a close point in time, this would destroy any human being but the point of insanity kind of started hitting new points. She came back and tried to make my uncle’s desk a shrine and/or her new desk. She started putting pictures and candles all over his desk and the supervisor/manager wasn’t having this as he started taking over this desk and position before and after my uncle passed. Stacy was so upset that his honor wasn’t being represented on his desk? This was only the beginning. I was sitting at Stacy’s desk for a while and installed antivirus on the computers. This should be fine, right? WRONG. She called my dad FLIPPING HER SHIT because a VIRUS was in her computer. My dad, who should have known better, started screaming at me because I use facebook and facebook gives you viruses! (wut?) My dad comes back to his senses and looks at her computer and asks what it’s doing and she points at the ANTI-VIRUS. (She missed the word ANTI). And my dad bought me ice cream or something and apologized and vowed never to listen to Stacy again about this kind of nonsense. FYI: Windows Update is also a virus. Not long after, they let go Sunshine because we didn’t need 3 people answering the phones. They kept me on because I was the person they trusted (nothing against Sunshine but they knew Stacy was batshit crazy). Also I was being paid to watch her for some time. Stacy was adamant people were fucking with her computer (this was also brought on because they let go of her sister). She didn’t do anything useful on the computer. It’s not like she knew how to use facebook. I set up her email for her and she could never remember the password even though it was both of her grandchildren’s names. So, one day, she accused one of the estimators for changing Mapquest. By changing, I mean Mapquest updated their layout and she thought the estimator had the power to do this. As time went on, she started to become paranoid. She use to have the authority to write checks until the boss found out she was writing checks to herself. She was no longer allowed to use Quickbooks and they hired a bookkeeper. We had to put passwords on anything because she started assuming we were trying to push her out of the company. Around this time, she found it feasible to buy herself her first house. I think this was to guilt people into letting her stay with the company because her logic was something like ‘but I have a house now?’ She was on the phone with realtors constantly during work hours while the office was busy. I remember getting agitated because we had one call after another and she was on the phone with the realtor and someone else on her cellphone ON SPEAKER. She even put the phones together so they could talk to one another! THIS HAPPENED! Stacy would come in most days a half hour late. She’d start off semi wired and then it was like the sugar crash of the century. She’d be nodding out and sleeping at her desk. The most impressive was she’d be asleep with the phone to her ear, the phone would ring and she’d jump into a groggy conversation. I’d try to answer before her because, seriously you don’t want to talk to that groggy mess on the phone. She was barely audible but able to press that button fast enough. So as the paranoia started setting in she started trying to “hack” into Quickbooks. Her hacking skills consists of trying to go on their website with our email. The program wasn’t on her computer. I only knew this when I got an email about a forgotten password haha. My uncle had owned other properties and the current boss bought them out of the estate after he passed. She was also made aware when he purchased the properties. She insisted she owned these properties. She kept trying to find the property addresses in Quickbooks and in the computer. My cousin had come and worked with us for a while and we caught her printing random non important papers with the addresses. We just watched her from the other side of the room bemused. Another day she took the envelopes with the bank statements, which she KNEW she couldn’t open, and proceeded to copy the envelopes! I remember texting my boss that she was doing this and he was cracking up and came in and yelled at her. It’s like, …what the hell are you doing? What are you trying to accomplish?! So after a year of my uncle being deceased, the boss decided it was a good time to give the cell phone he’s been paying for (my uncle’s cell that he’s been paying for) to another employee. What no one realized was that Stacy and my uncle’s daughter Tina called his phone sometimes to listen to his voicemail. So this BLEW THE FUCK UP. HOW DARE THEY GIVE HIS CELLPHONE NUMBER TO SOMEONE ELSE? Seriously, what the fuck did they expect? You can’t keep paying for the phone plan for the voicemail. A few months later they shut off her cellphone. This was due to her constantly leaving the office and talking to lawyers and people on her phone during work hours. So for almost 2 years they paid for her cellphone. My boss was also paying her medical and car insurance and this was cut off some time later and she went ballistic. She was paid thousands of dollars and she was far from grateful. She would probably still have these privileges if she didn’t feel it necessary to fuck over the company in the end. So at some point, she decided to shut down the company. This was when she was fired and when this DIDN’T HAPPEN. She told her lawyers how she owned the company and how people were dicking her over. She took my boss to court and lost embarrassingly. **BONUS**: An old email I have from her: Sunday me & (daughter) go food shopping so I pull up to my house and had to double park ,these n*****said something about it ,and of course you know me I start screaming at them well they turn around Jump out of there car come up 2 us push my grandchildren down on the ground ,thank god my whole block was outside & they got the grandkids out of harms way , The younger one all in my face 7 Im toe 2 toe with her & Im like my son no words just lets get it on ,so I see my daughter fist come from behind me and took her. I gat the fat one by then Im on the ground cause we all were tripping over our flip flops ,the pavement was uneven,so Ijm on the groung grabbed that n*****weave and pulled withall my mighht and that shit would not rip off,and I was pulling hard cause i had the advantage of being onthe grond I don't think she ever thouched her toes till that day cause I had her bent over so much and my daughter didn't need two n*****on her so I just kept her at bay , Then that quick they jumped back inthere car & said they would be back cause they said they know where i live It All happened so fast,but I have all young white neighbors and the guys on the block made sure they didn't stomp myface or kick me on my teeth & watched out 4 my daughter. Crazy shit allbecause I was double parked in front of my own house Fuck that ,Thay think white girls r chumps well they picked the wrong girls!!!!! ----------------------------- Update: As some of the comments suggest, there was a video from CNN which featured her discussing unemployment and how she was "laid off" and looking for work. I have no idea if she ever did find work. I know she was active with the Philadelphia Unemployment Project and ended up in the Daily News at one point as well...which is a great cause, I just wonder how that even happened. My family was fortunate to no longer have to deal with Stacy after they kicked her out of the company. Still seeking revenge, she turned my dad in for working under the table while on disability. My dad does have MS, he couldn't d the job he was in before but was working under the table as the "shop guy" at the company. Fortunately, he just had to pay money back and went to jail for like 5 hours. We found out because she went to my aunt's house to gloat over reporting him. In early 2021, her son who was in prison (who had since been released) died in the same manner his brother died, in a drug deal gone wrong - regardless of how insane and evil this woman is, my heart definitely went out to her. Though, a few months later, Stacy would die in the most Stacey way possible. An old church had burnt down that was apparently historic of some sort. There was a weird problem with people going to the ruins to "save a brick" as a souvenir. Stacey, deciding to do the same, went to the church and went to the 2nd floor looking for things to loot. Due to the fire, the building support wasn't all there and she fell through the floor (possibly 2). SHE DID NOT DIE, I have no idea how long she was there but she did survive this. She broke A LOT of bones. MONTHS later, while visiting her primary for a follow up, she apparently suddenly slipped into a coma and died a couple months later. This was the last I heard about her and her family. I know her daughter is still alive and she does not have custody of any of her children. submitted by /u/sexi_squidward to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

November 1st is the one year mark for our foray into treating flipping as a real business. I've learned so much from y'all over the past year that I wanted to share some of my thoughts and findings with the community. But first, some context. CONTEXT My wife and I partner on this. I have a full-time job, she is a stay-at-home mom. Even though we treat this as a business, it's still just a hobby. I put in standard hours at my full-time job, typically working from roughly 9-5. My wife handles most of the shipping in between kid stuff, and lists stuff as well on occasion. My main focus, aside from sourcing (which we both do), is listing. We sell almost exclusively on eBay, though we also have an antique booth and sell stuff on FBMP occasionally. This write-up will focus exclusively on eBay, however, as that is where the bulk of our revenue is coming from. Happy to answer questions about the antique booth below if you have any, but it generates a very small amount of revenue compared to eBay. We don't have any particular niche that we work in. Instead, we sell across pretty much all categories. We get inventory primarily from garage sales, estate sales, thrift stores, and flea markets. This past year is also not our first experience flipping. I've been selling on eBay since the late 90s, never seriously though. Always random stuff here and there. I've never made more than $1,000 a year from eBay until this past year. And while I'm certainly proud of the work we've done and the numbers we've generated, I get that it's small potatoes compared to a lot of other sellers. My intention in sharing all of this is not to brag, but to show what is possible these days selling on eBay. HOW MUCH TIME DO WE SPEND? On average we spend 6 hours a week shipping (1 hour per day M-F; Mondays usually take 2 hours from weekend shipments), 7 hours a week listing (I list for an hour every morning), and between 5-10 hours a week sourcing for a total max of 23 hours a week split between two people. For the sake of clarity, let's round up to 25 hours per week. THE NUMBERS Since November 1, 2020, we've listed 3,021 items on eBay. That's an average of 8.2 new listings per day. Of that we've sold 1,819 items, or about 5 per day on average, for a total sale through rate of 60%. In total we had $70,258.31 in gross sales, or $192.48 per day. Net income on those sales came out to $39,825.33, or $109.11 per day. (These figures do not include income tax.) I calculate net by subtracting the gross by cost of goods, platform fees, and shipping. Want to see how gross sales broke down over each month? Check this graph out here. The average gross sales price per item is $38.62. The average net after shipping, platform fees, and cost of goods is $21.89 per item. Our average cost of goods is $4.86 and the average ROI is 1,180%. At 25 hours per week, that is 1,300 hours we've spent on this business over the last year. Using total gross income ($70,258.31) that comes out to $54 per hour, or $30 per hour net. Since these hours are split over two people, we will double that amount to get the "true" hourly wages of $60 per person, per hour. (Edit: this is a controversial statement, so I've removed it. Consider $30 the hourly rate on this income.) Again, this does not include income tax, which will vary wildly depending your specific tax situation. This is all an approximation of course. Some days we spend zero time, others we spend more. Sales are pretty evenly split over the week. Monday is our most popular day for sales with 303 items sold, followed by Sunday with 274. Thursday is the lowest with 235. NOTABLE SALES The item with the highest ROI is a decorative stained glass window that we bought at the Goodwill Bins, which charges by the pound ($0.19 per pound for glassware). We spent appx. $0.25 on it and sold it for $198 ($154.15 net) for an ROI of 61,660%. The highest total sale price was a new in box Toshiba DVR-620 DVD/VCR Recorder that sold for $649.99. I bought it for $350, so the net was "only" $193.12. It had an ROI of 55%. The highest net sale was an HP OfficeJet 4500 printer, new in box, which sold for $349.99. I bought it from a flea market for $10 and our net was $282.92 for an ROI of 2,829%. The lowest net sale item was an Imaginext Ultra T-Rex Dinousaur. I paid $15 for it and sold it for $49.93 for a net sale of -$4.45 after shipping. Yes, I paid almost $5 to sell a toy to someone. :) LEARNINGS We've learned a lot over the last year. Here are my five big takeaways: 1) Promoted listings work. Around June of this year I decided to promote all of my listings at 1%. At that point, our sales essentially doubled. According to eBay, we've spent $394.33 in standard promoted listing fees over the last year. In return, we've generated $21,144.66 in gross sales from promoted listings. [Source] Would some of those items sold even without the promoted listings? Sure, but these numbers are hard to ignore. Just look at the graph of gross sales over month and you can see exactly when I started using promoted listings. 2) Consistency is key. Find a schedule that works for you and stick to it. Let's face it, this business is not rocket science. Success comes from hard work and discipline. Make it a habit to source and list regularly and you will be rewarded. Very few days have gone by this year where I haven't listed at least one thing. I sneak in sourcing trips whenever I can. Dropping the kids off at soccer practice? Hit up a thrift store. 3) Don't let the small things distract you. This business is not for the thin skinned. Buyers are picky. There are scammers. Even so, problems happen very rarely, relatively speaking. I've been scammed twice in the past year. 2 out of 1,819 is not bad. Our return rate is 2.48%, and even then less than half of returns that are opened actually get sent back to us. Every business is going to have its challenges like this. Don't let the outliers distract you from the big picture. 4) Be courteous and professional. I've resolved countless problems with buyers by responding quickly, being curious, and acting professional. You'd be very surprised how far this gets you. Even when I've fucked up by selling shit that was broken, I've ended up getting positive feedback because of how I've handled it. 5) Invest in quality materials for your business. If you're making enough profit you need things to write-off on your taxes anyway, so I recommend setting aside some money each month for quality supplies. This year I invested in a new (used) iMac to use for the business, a thermal label printer (Dymo 4XL), countless metal shelving units, good quality bubble wrap (American Bubble Boy!), quality shipping boxes of all sizes, good scales, good tape, and all sorts of other things that not only saves me time and energy but keeps this whole business enjoyable and fun to run. THE NEXT YEAR We're looking forward to what the next year brings. When we started last November, we had zero listings, which means we spent the first 6 months really building inventory. Today we hold approximately 1100 items in inventory, though I don't see that growing too much this year. I expect we will hold right around that amount, only bringing in about as much as we are selling. Our goal is to hit $120,000 in gross sales in 2022 and $72,000 net with the same amount of time investment. Thanks for reading. If you have any questions for me I'd be happy to answer below. Edit: since folks are asking, here are some photos of my inventory and workspace. It's a little messy, but whatever. Inventory Listing station Shipping station Interested in learning about how I keep tracking inventory and bookkeeping? I talk through that in this thread here. submitted by /u/ThisWeekInFlips to r/Flipping [link] [comments]

Disclaimer - I'm just a newbie and I'm still learning. I have read and seen a lot of stuff both here and in real life, so I thought I'd compile a post with the best tips I've come across; Particularly for those like me who may fall somewhere on the autism spectrum, or just didn't have this type of stuff "click" with them growing up. I actually got called charming/charismatic a couple of times (despite average looks) so I figured I'd share what I found to be the best advice I've gotten. This is either behavior I've read, done, or seen done by likable/confident men that I've tried to replicate and work into my interactions. ​ Eye contact and shutting tf up when she's talking This is maybe the most common advice given (eye contact), but for good reason. The importance of listening skills and eye contact cannot be understated. For years and years I was the guy not able to hold eye contact with anyone, let alone girls I found attractive. I would also be too jumpy and cut people off in conversation (without even meaning to be rude) just because I was nervous. Ever had a conversation with someone who does this, though? It sucks. Nobody wants to converse with someone who just wants to hear themselves talk. So, DON'T DO THAT. If she's talking, be an active listener, stfu, and look her dead in the eyes. You can also gauge her interest if she's looking back in your eyes or not. That alone was one of my biggest takeaways from upping my eye contact. For some reason, as "easy" as this is, I see a lot of guys suck at it, and I can tell when a guy knows what he's doing or not. Real life example: I got a job at a big store a couple of years ago, around the time I started reading up on seduction because I was so pathetic with it. I decided to practice my eye contact with everyone there (considering the volume of the store), but particularly the girls my age who worked there. This actually worked so well in a couple of cases that a couple of the girls got crushes on me and/or I just generally found them talking to me a lot over other people. I really trace it to the eye contact and listening as that was the biggest change I made. ​ Teasing and disagreeing with her This is another huge one and something I didn't really understand until I tried it myself. I used to always put off teasing as pointless, but it's honestly so effective in getting interest and having a fun conversation. Always being "nice" and super agreeable isn't as exciting and drys up pussy like nothing else. It's actually funny, because watching TV and movies, it's a common trope to see the guy on the first date try to find stuff in common with the girl and change his personality/interests in order to agree. Now, of course, having stuff in common is a good thing, but having some of your own opinions that may clash is great too, provided it's actually fun and not you dishing out your political views. Of course, you gotta be a bit playful with it and not too serious, but if you do it right I honestly think this works better than anything else. Doing this too much is just weird and I've seen people take the teasing way too far to where it's just cringe. So, don't be that guy either. If you're familiar with push/pull techniques, it's really about that. If I'm disagreeing with her about something, I'd ideally try to come back to something positive so I'm not that guy who finds the negative in everything someone says. That's the last thing people want to be around either. Real life example: Just the other day I had met a new girl (friend of friend basically) and I made a comment about how I hated rum (that was on her counter). This got her interest quick and I was able to tease her about it, and she went along too (jokingly flipping me off and defending it). Really quick and easy way to build a connection. ​ Using inside jokes I'm going to go off the previous example here with the rum, but say you get some joke like that going between the two of you, then you could go off of that at some point later and tease her about it, or even tell her "you have to make me one of those rum drinks you say are so good". I actually might try this if I see that girl again. It could be anything, though, but having something to call back to builds rapport and creates relationships. Like disagreeing with her, this is something that can be overused and made cringey if you take it too far. If I keep forcing rum into the conversation because that's the one thing I remember about her, it ends up getting ridiculous and not funny anymore. I mention this because I've actually seen this sort of thing happen. ​ Having solid introductions & speaking to people like you know them This really applies to meeting anyone, but having a solid introduction without being nervous/awkward is a great skill to have. What helped me a lot here is thinking back to people that made great first impressions where you look back and think "wow, that dude/girl was super cool". I've even had conversations about new people/coworkers/whatever with others where I've said "yeah, that guy was super chill" and everyone else had the same opinion, simply because he had a great introduction. All that really takes is looking people them the eye, giving a handshake/fist bump/whatever, introducing yourself, and coming off as approachable. Sorta like eye contact, this really isn't even difficult, but it's surprising the amount of people who make a lot of awkward introductions. Also, use her name when talking to her or getting her attention post introduction. I really like using fist bumps/some sort of touch, as I think it comes off as a little more genuine and friendly. ​ Use statements instead of questions "Is pink your favorite color?" vs. "You really like your pink" "What's your fav type of music?" vs. "You're probably a billie eilish fan" "What's your astrological sign?" vs. "I bet you're a pisces" (for some reason the astrology stuff almost always gets a good reaction) These examples are kinda ass, but still. This is something I'm still working on & also didn't used to do much, but the statements over questions thing (like teasing) is just so incredibly effective in building tension. What's great is you could be right or wrong and either way you're getting the answer to the question you could have otherwise asked. So, try to avoid asking questions if it can instead be replaced with an assumptive statement, especially if you can get her on the defense about something she likes! This makes for a more fun conversation and destroys the job interview vibe. Bonus tip I really like: If she asks you something where she could potentially guess, tell her to guess instead, or tell her you want to guess something about her. This is perfect for something like trying to figure out her major, star sign, or hometown. Then you can also get her to do the same for you. ​ Getting in her personal space bubble/the power of touch Ok, so big disclaimer here: DO NOT CREEPILY GET UP ON AND CROWD A GIRL'S PERSONAL SPACE. Especially if she's not giving you IOI's. Like most of this stuff, it's very circumstantial. Sexual assault isn't a joke. I've actually gotten close to girls at concerts and made awkward and terrible conversation, and probably came off as super weird, so don't do this! But say you're talking to a girl at a loud venue and you move in closer, or, she takes a step towards you... KEEP YOUR FEET LIKE CEMENT AND DON'T FUCKING MOVE. This is one of the best tips I got from my old coworker who was a big smooth talker. If she wants to get some more space from you, she's obviously more than welcome to, but there's absolutely no reason why you should be fidgeting or moving away from her and killing the tension. This is something I would often screw up and just back off to be "polite", but really, you're just screwing yourself doing that. Sometimes, you can test it by getting a bit closer and if you notice she moves back, she's obviously not feeling it. Again, though, don't be a fucking weirdo and make girls uncomfortable. At the same time, you basically have to figure out if she's feeling you or not. Fortune favors the bold, and there's no way of finding out if she's into you unless you try. Expressly asking her "mind if I touch your shoulder" or something stupid like that is a vibe killer like no other. A lot of this is using your best judgement, which I know is tough if you're lacking social skills, but watching interactions and having more helps with this. Real life example: I was at a restaurant earlier this summer and for my order, the waitress got maybe 12 inches from my face when I was ordering. Even though they work for tips, I found it a bit out of the ordinary as I'd never had that happen. I didn't move back or fidget, though; I just stayed still and continued to hold eye contact. That's actually a small story of its own, but still, a perfect example of staying still and making eye contact, and where she could have easily moved away if that's what she wanted. ​ Making her laugh This is pretty lame and generic, to be fair, but damn, if it isn't effective. I've found that being "witty" is actually better than being "funny". Most of it really does come down to comedic timing. If you can work an inside joke into a witty comment about something - that's absolute gold. It's always a good feeling, too, if you can make a girl (or anyone) legitimately laugh and not just a fake one to be nice. Tip: watch comedy. Whether that's stand up, movies, tv, etc. I actually get a ton of my humor from years and years of comedy that I watched growing up. And shit, if I'm being totally honest, I've actually stolen some jokes and used them in conversation. ​ Complimenting clothes/shoes/accessories I've found this is the best thing to compliment, even better than saying "you're really cute". Commenting on style or her vibe is much better than her face or assets. Hair and voice is ok, too, but that comes off as a bit more flirty, especially voice. I like complimenting stuff like shirt, jewelry, shoes, tattoos, etc. Then work in statements about her, some teasing, maybe light touch, and repeat. That's basically the flirting system. Note: At the same time, don't be super afraid to comment on appearance, especially if you've already talked a bit. You shouldn't be ashamed for being attracted to a girl or calling her cute. I went a long time afraid to ever say something like that because I felt like it was wrong for me to say something like that to a girl. Fact of the matter is it's ok to be attracted to her and don't be shamed into feeling otherwise. ​ Being positive about others in conversation This is another thing I picked up from my old coworker, but I noticed he'd often reference others in his conversations, and say something positive about them. It's a super likable trait to have if you're always bringing other people up and being a positive person to be around. A lot of people do the opposite (and I've been guilty of this too) in making fun of strangers, saying negative stuff, etc., and that's simply not a person others want to talk to. Venting is cool, if you know them, but there's a line. ​ Talking slower Don't be a speed demon trying to get sentences out. This, again, is something I super struggled with, and still do to some level. Slowing tf down makes you come off as less nervous, and shit, the reason for me talking fast is often because I am nervous! Slower and more deliberate speech, with pauses, is honestly much better. Not being afraid to have a moment of silence and eye contact is great too. This is perfect if a girl asks you a stupid question or something too personal. ​ Ok, that concludes my list of the things that helped me most. I'm still learning, like I said, but maybe some of this stuff will help someone else. I found all of these things to be super helpful techniques/tricks when it comes to flirting and being a more sociable and likable person. submitted by /u/csawNS to r/seduction [link] [comments]

It finally happened, after 9 months of farming I've finally reached the int limit, or rather within 1 mil of it. https://i.gyazo.com/a2ad3ea77d0453face3d73a12ce4b731.png (kinda forgot that the api takes some time to update) https://i.gyazo.com/fbbdc7f6702029179eb6b9815fbdfc46.png   You might ask why I didn't get exactly 2,147,483,647 collection, there are a few reasons for that: Even going a single carrot over the limit causes the number to overflow to -2,147,483,648 I wanted to have a buffer so I don't accidentally overflow in case I break a crop or get a drop from a zombie   Also, a good question is why I'm ranked #3: When Jacobs released a ton of people started nuking since farming made a ton of money, the admins kinda didn't do anything to stop that and a couple of people reached the int limit within weeks. When a person gets banned they are not removed from the leaderboard, instead, it only updates once they log back in or get overtaken by someone. After going over the int limit the api will no longer update, so until the nukers(most likely on 1 cent NFA's) login again I won't be able to get #1 back.   The Journey: It all started with me joining technoclan in early 2020 (can't remember the exact date) and becoming friends with many of the members. Near the end of the potato war, s_a_d asked me if I could make a website to track squids collection gain which promptly went up on github (insert bad code joke). It didn't really was of any use since techno was so far ahead. I thought to myself "why not one-up techno and get 1 bil collection instead of only 500 mil" and started building.   On June 21st, 2020, or 9 months and 25 days ago, I started building my carrot farm overview, planting. None of the new tools existed back then so it was quite exhausting to build the farm. So I kept casually farming for about 4 hours per day until I realized that I'm already in the top 10. During that time hypixel changed the "find the item" captcha into an extremely buggy map captcha which triggered like every hour, it was quite infuriating bc 80% of the time the captcha would be invisible ex1 or it would show a normal map ex2.   A rare item collector named BubbleTFilms told me that a person named KingCalcium was #1 in carrots and was closing in on 500 mil collection. But to my surprise, I overtook him a couple of weeks later. Not really related to farming but while looking through my screenshots, I found this gem of me and s_a_d trying to crash technoblade (where is head goon 😭).   I actually didn't find any screenshot of me passing 500 mil collection (probably because in my mind 1 bil was the real goal) so that's quite disappointing. Tho I found a screenshot of me having 520 mil collection around mid-September 2020. This also marks the point at which the admins disabled captchas for farming (except cane).   Nothing exceptional happened in the following months except for the release of the new reforge stones at the smith (blessed for farming) increasing the farming yield by a tiny amount (blessed reforge released). This is also the point where I switched from a rookie hoe to a diamond hoe since the reforge bonus is dependent on the rarity tier of the item. I also started to track my collection gain via the script I used to track squid kid the spikes are from when I emptied my minions, which I had to do daily basis because storage chests didn't and still don't work on carrot minions -.-   To my dismay when I was around 980 mil collection the big farming update with jacobs released. It increased the crop yield from around 1 mil an hour to 3 mil an hour and would have saved me a ton of time. Since I never got farming 50 before starting to farm It took me extremely long until I got the max yield. I kinda stopped farming carrots for a bit to get the medals for the 10 new farming levels and the Anita farmhand bonus.   On November 10th, 2020 while being watched by a crowd I finally got 1 billion collection ;-; I miss clicked one of the minions trying to get to 999,999,999 and accidentally got 1,000,000,001.   Due to the influx of thousands of botters and nukers and the increase in crop yield, I kinda got demotivated and stopped farming for about a month. During that time I worked on a bot that could detect nukers based on their contest scores which are viewable in the hypixel api. I calculated the maximum amount of crops the person can get based on their farming lvl(can be extracted from the achievement api) + Anita bonus(is always viewable) and tools bonus (players with api off defaulted to 100 mil collection/counter bonus enchants included). Multiple groups formed who all used their own bots that worked on similar methods. We shared our results and uuid lists to catch as many nukers as we possibly could. Sadly most of them never got punished for what they did (luckily one of the biggest nukers SqueezeLord who nuked to the int limit in potato on multiple accounts did eventually get banned recently, although not for nuking). During that time I got invited to the "The Elite Skyblock Farmers" community and I've met a ton of people who also passionately farm on skyblock. One of the players, Fujiwara helped us out a ton with finding the correct yield formula.   After that, I continued to farm carrots and grind skills to balance it a bit out and for the next few months, all seemed well (from december). On Christmas day I got my highest jacobs score ever, although I only have a video recording on my second best attempt. In early January the admins finally implemented some sort of anti-nuke plugin that would prevent players from breaking blocks at a very high rate. I kinda stopped farming again to play the new mayor and dwarven mines update.   After that, I noticed that I dropped 2 ranks in the collection. I looked up every stat tracking site and checked any profile that could be related to that. I found 2 suspicious accounts that were farming for 72h+ at a time, both were on the same coop. After further investigation, I found at least 5 more accounts that received coins from the main account and it seemed like some sort of bot farm from an IRL trader. I sent all of the information to an admin and a friend of mine sent the information to a mod he is friends with and a week later all of the accounts got fully wiped.   At first, I was relieved that those botters were finally banned but I didn't get back my #1 rank. I later learned that the leaderboard only updates when the player logs back into hypixel or gets overtaken. Based on the hoe counter the macroers used I assumed that they already crossed the int limit (400mil counter even tho they already had 470mil collection back in november).   And then the Jacobs nerf dropped, basically dropping the yield rate to half the rate. For some reason, this significantly reduced the number of people botting carrots or potatoes and them focusing on nether warts. I kinda just carried on farming like normal and trying to get new post jacobs nerf highscores. A few weeks before I hit my final goal I managed to get a mathematically impossible score by using a method called "pre-farming" which basically consists out of blocking your inventory and letting the crops drop to the floor and then quickly unblock it to pick up all the dropped crops once the event starts. It's possible to get a few thousand more crops than normal(no this doesn't mean those 3 mil+ scores during the nuking heyday are legit) and this time I managed to record it on video.   This brings us back to today! This short writeup doesn't mention all the players I've met on my journey or have cheered me on to continue farming thats why I also want to give a shoutout to a few players I can remember, in no particular order and non exhaustive: TechnoPingGood, Xentrin, s_a_d, SuperIvoh, Wompitt, deotime, Frozie, BubbleTFilms, Mekz, SirFischbrot, Fujiwara, Acute/Fenso, Square_MC, FizFez/Fezzy, DarkenedFusion, NaturesButler, FalingoBalde, IdkDom, charboo2, Hochlukas, rm_rf_slash, TheDragonhanx, wheelchair77, notJumpaZ, Admonium, Bankhier, Queper, Rmuda, Aleksterpin, ToxicParents, thirtyvirus, SirMagictree, Scr1, _Newb, Technoodle, Alex33856, aaql, artificialari, Candypat, BuroBlade, Deeppressed, LeechCraft, meutr, Riceblades11, pixel0727, 50mMidas, _FromTheVoid, _IntoTheVoid, AceJettson, alaszalasz, AndreasVSM, Voxeeer, Slime, Carrot_Sans, ChefGoob, TimeDeo, DerBigMac, Clem3, ConnerE10, CoomBoi, CoulterSimp, CykeGodly, DraconisDoom, dumky, DaBaby7, Benpla7z, efefury, Hollsty, HyAuctions, Icongames, ilypug, im_an_egg, ItsMaul, Jevolution, Jordi22, lilDafty, Stuffy, LJKMagic, LilKeroo, LonelyBoy, McDonaldsBugerr, minebro321, NcraftGamez, netherrite_block, Ninjacado, oBeqver, oTrqstan, Peble, IGoByLotsOfNames, Pokemonpee, ProLavaBoy, RatsInSpace, RubberGuppie, Schabi, ShellCrabYT, t1tanivm, ToastyGG, Tudel_, TwTVAlexxoffi, WElRDB, Zeusblade and many more from old FPF, LIS, TB, FC, The Elite Skyblock Farmers, and many more who I can't remember right now, Im sorry! Thank you all for your support! submitted by /u/Dawjaw to r/HypixelSkyblock [link] [comments]

My great grandmother Effy was born in 1913. Sliced bread became a thing in 1928. Woodrow Wilson was president when she was born. She remembers the Great Depression. In fact, she became a parent during the Great Depression. She’s lived a long and hard life. But she’s very proud of it. She loves to tell people that stress been on the right side of history before it was cool. She was a single mom for most of her life. Two husbands died young. Her two boys would go on to live very nice lives and do very well for themselves because of her. Unfortunately, she’s living all alone in a remote area because she refuses to let anyone take care of her. So I called her up today because I worry about her. After starting the FaceTime so she can talk with her great, great granddaughter about which Bubble Guppy is her favorite while my GG nurses a Bourbon - I mean tea!- my Great Grandma said: “mothers of this moment of time are badasses. I don’t know how y’all do it. Everything you do is wrong to someone, ‘don’t let them watch tv, don’t let them go outside alone, don’t let them eat things that cast a shadow. Work a full time job from home, teach kids at all sorts of different levels, be tech support, clean the house, cook an organic dinner, fuck like a porn star in heat - but don’t let the kids know but also be sex positive. It’s bullshit! When your granddaddy was 3 I could lock him outside all day while I sat on my ass or did what I needed to. I just don’t get it. Seems like you can either be a worker or a mother but you’re evil for doing either. Y’all are badasses.” I just want everyone to know it’s okay to not be okay. Effy says we can get through this because we’re tough and we don’t take shit. Side note: she’s always been like this. She’s just gotten more ... unfiltered... with age. But not in a worrisome way, just like her last fuck died when she turned 100. Edit 2: I was told to post this here because y’all need to hear this too. Edit: I called Effy to tell her about this post and how everyone is in love with her. She says y’all are all now her babies. She has some advice: Please be kind to yourself. No one else is guaranteed to, so be kind to you -defend what and who you love. But never let them get away with being wrong. -best way to get over a man is to get under a new one -if you have a cut, there’s this thing called “new skin” it’s like super glue for skin. (She gets cuts from her rose bushes. Loves this stuff) -having quality friends and furniture is better than quantity. -looks fade, but personality never will. -if he breaks your heart, fuck his best friend. -when you get really old, move to a college town and bake cookies and cook for the students. You’ll have a lot of friends real fast. You’ll never have to do chores again and young hunks will mow your lawn shirtless. EDIT 3: Effy called me new advice for everyone: -Don’t let anyone talk to you in a way that you wouldn’t allow someone to speak to your friends -raise your babies to be adults. Raise them so that you aren’t fixing their shit when they’re pushing 90. (My grandpa she means) But also never let them feel like they can’t come home. -The holiest of the betties (church women) slip from time to time, love yourself. -Vicks Vapor Rub on a Hummingbird Feeder or patio furniture will repel wasps and bees. Also spiders hate peppermint use a diluted water peppermint blend, but always keep a few spiders in your house. Pour a bit of lime juice in your yard to keep snakes away. This one is for men: -you are beautiful, smart, and your butt looks good in jeans. Just because society won’t tell you, don’t mean us ladies don’t notice. Also nothing is sexier than a good dad. Unless Chris Evans becomes a dad. Then it’s daddy Chris Evans. submitted by /u/lady_molotovcocktail to r/Parenting [link] [comments]

My mom was the sort of person to look like a wallflower until you got close and then spout out facts about her favourite animal. It was an emperor penguin. She said their journey for love and parenthood was the hardest and most connecting with her. I’m told all the usual things about her; she had a smile that could light up a room, her laugh cut through the malaise of an awkward party, her stride was confident and her form was elegant. From the day I could understand what it was to be remembered, she was painted to me as a true goddess. After all, aren’t all moms supposed to be that to their children growing up? Mom died when I was 4. Aggressive cancer riddled her body with tumours, stole her stride, her smile, her laugh. Everything in just 18 short months. I didn’t see her for much of it. But if I did, I obviously didn’t remember. I heard somewhere we don’t start forming memories until we’re around 2 years old and implicit memories - those unconscious memories that stick with us automatically - aren’t even until we’re 7. So essentially my mother was already dead for 3 years before I could even unconsciously think of the word “Mom” and go to her face. A face that was stolen from me. A face that I’ll never see. I’m giving you this background information now because it’s vital that you understand my mom before we get into the thick of it. I can’t sit here and tell you I loved my mom unconditionally. I didn’t know her. Dad was never in the picture, so Grandparents were where I was shipped off to. Good people, kind people. They raised me on stories of my Mom and made sure to do the one thing she’d requested when her sickness finally got her: ”Show Nick the milestone tapes.” For those unaware; a milestone tape is something where a loved one, usually a parent, records a loving video to congratulate their kin on a moment they’re missing out on. First day of school, marriage… you get the picture. I remember being 5 years old, I’d not long tripped on the stairs after miscalculating my steps and smashed my front tooth on the top step, sending my first baby tooth flying. Thankfully, the pain was short-lived in my mind, I was mere days from my birthday and a surprise trip to Disneyland was coming up. In the middle of packing, I was sat down in front of the TV with my Grandpa Mihail and him putting in these pristine discs, a gaudy logo flashing up on the screen still burned into my retinas to this day: “Gone, but not deleted: A video message from Leanora Stankowski.” The image would flicker for just a moment, always just a moment each time, then she’d appear. A young woman sat in a black leather armchair with a small table to her side and patterned wallpaper behind her. She was in her late 20s with her raven black hair tied in a messy bun, strands curled and dangling down her porcelain face, a beauty mark sitting just beneath her right eye, the pair of them shining like emeralds that caught the first ray of sunshine, black lipstick gave way to shimmering teeth and a smile that made even an oblivious little me feel… lost. “Hi pumpkin, it’s mommy! I hope my little prince is watching the throne while i’m away… how can you be nearly six years old and already losing your baby teeth? You’re growing up too fast, little man!” She puffed out her cheeks as she feigned a frown before giggling. My heart sank in my chest, I knew something wasn’t right even then. Her tone was playful, buoyant and full of joy, like she’d never missed a moment of my life. “Make sure you put your tooth under your pillow tonight, Deda Mihail will make sure the tooth fairy comes and nothing else!” She raised a single finger with a wink, posing for a moment before her face fell, her posture sank and she fell back into the armchair a tad, growing smaller as she coughed. After a moment, she cleared her throat with a quiet dignity and made sure the hand she coughed into went out of shot as she fixated on the camera with a weak smile. “Mommy loves you, my little crown prince. Close your eyes and breathe with me…” I looked at my Grandfather and with tears streaming down his face and a bite on his lip; he put a hand on my shoulder and nodded. I did as I was told and took a long breath in, the air cold and filling my lungs, intoxicating me as I heard her words. The same words i’d come to hear at the end of every video she recorded: “I’ll always be with you.” - And so it went. For every milestone I undertook, there was an accompanying video. When I graduated middle school, when I rode my first bike… even when I broke my first bone, she had a video ready. I was around 11, when biking home from school, I collided with a speeding driver. The bastard didn’t even stop as my small body careened over his windscreen, rolled over the hood and smashed into the concrete, tearing my right arm to pieces. Passers-by said it was a freak accident; that the car just appeared out of nowhere and then vanished. But hell, what do hit & run drivers do? Speed, speed, speed. Medicated up to my eyes and sitting up in hospital, Grandpa handed me a mini-dvd player and the familiar face shot up. I could never tell you in those earlier videos if these were done back to back or months apart, but Mom still looked radiant… albeit with more coughing in each iteration. “Hi pumpkin, it’s mommy! Though, i’m sure by now you’re probably cringing at the mere mention of me referring to myself that way… oh god, do people still say cringe? It’s hard to know what the world you’re in is like anymore, but moms are never supposed to be cool, are they?” She chuckled, a faraway look in her eye as the pit of my stomach expanded. “No…” I thought, tears in my eyes, gripping the sheets with my good hand. “I WANT you to say those things. I WANT you to embarrass me…” “Well, if you’re watching this, then you’ve broken your first bone… I hope it’s a bit later in life and not when you’re so upset you can’t even hear me. But sweetie, this is an important life lesson that I wanted to be there for; pain happens. It’s a part of our world, and everyone in it must experience it. Sometimes it’s physical, like now when your body hurts so much that you wanna yell and cry out. Sometimes it’s emotional, which you get when someone upsets you, hurts your feelings… something you might also feel from seeing my face right now, which I’m sorry for.” She trailed off, that weak smile plastered across her face like the greatest lie ever told. She took a breath, and I heard the quivers in her voice. Both from sadness and from sickness. “BUT, you are my little crown prince, and while you’re watching the throne, I know you’ll do great things and overcome ANYTHING that stands in your way. You know why?” “Why…” I breathed, my body radiating with hot pain but my heart aching. I leaned in as she leaned in, like sharing a secret only we would ever know. “Because you’re my son and my love for you will push you to do anything.” She whispered, my face involuntarily growing into a smile without even realising. “Just don’t look at the wall behind me.” My eyes were fixed on hers, a small sliver of the background visible behind her ear. As my eyes slowly broke from her gaze and travelled over, she spoke again. “DON’T.” A frantic whisper escaped her lips. My eyes snapped back as a pale shade shifted out of sight. Blinking once, I saw she was sitting back in the chair, talking as if nothing had happened. Had I dozed off? I was on high pain medication; it wasn’t impossible… “I’m running out of time, these are only supposed to be short, so i’ll finish up here. “Mommy loves you, my little crown prince! Close your eyes and breathe with me…” Again, I did as instructed and heard a distinct creaking sound from the speakers, undoubtedly her settling into her chair. “I’ll always be with you.” - So the years went, fewer milestone videos popped up. Some of them were simply mundane or not that noteworthy. Not why we’re here. But the usual events; first day as a freshman, last day as a senior, prom night and even an embarrassing one wherein a 17-year-old me had the most uncomfortable 15 minutes of being explained dating etiquette and safe sex by my long-gone mother. By the time I’d reached 21, only four tapes remained. Grandpa Mihail had passed and Grandma Suza was getting on, so they were given to me with the obvious instruction to not watch them until the time was right. And this is the part where things take a turn. A bad breakup, bad life choices, even worse friendship choices with substances readily available, a lifetime of insecurities stemming from no parental figures (all the love in the world to my grandparents, but it’s not the same) and a series of videos from your long-dead mom are enough to fuck anyone up. So, I grabbed a bottle, some pills and put the next video in, planning to binge them before I took my leave. I mean, fuck it, what’s the harm if I’m ending it all, right? The video flickered and cast a long shadow across my dismal apartment before the visage of my mom came into focus. It’d been a couple of years since the last video and in my emotionally unstable, drunken state… I was not prepared for what I saw. Emaciated, sunken eyes and a slack jaw, her tongue hanging out and drooping to the bottom of her chin, thick pungent saliva with her concave chest heaving under the weight of the oxygen machine wrapped around her face. A looming shadow with two bright blue orbs for eyes and jagged pillars for teeth, wrapping its arms around her. It locked eyes with me and cocked its head to the side. “NEW.” It croaked, my skin bubbling with fear and chilling my blood, I had never felt a terror like it. It felt like it knew me and saw into me. I recoiled and in my cocktail of fear and horror, retched up everything I’d downed not 10 minutes earlier. A torrid mixture of bile, acid, pills and booze spread over my carpet as tears ran down my face. My stomach ached and every cell in my body screamed at me in protest. The thoughts swirling in my thick skull were that of disappointment, disgust and repulsiveness. I felt weak, alone and broken as I collapsed onto the floor in the fetal position, sobbing. “Sweetie, it’s Mom.” Through blurred eyes and a haze of pain, I looked at the TV half expecting some emaciated creature to lurch through, but there was my mom. She looked tired, her hair now matted to her head and exhaustion racking her bones, but beauty radiating through her as she held her hands in her lap and leaned forward, smiling. “If you’re watching this… then things are bad. I don’t know how bad, but I can guess. Grandpa wouldn’t have let you watch this if you’d gotten your heart broken or were at that age where emotions are as high as a kite and just as volatile… so I can assume that, much like me, you’re in a bad place…” She coughed and I felt the need to sit up and give her my full attention, this woman no more than 6 years my senior frozen in time still finding ways to command my attention with her every word. It was like I was 5 again. “Sweetie, I know I can’t talk to you like a child anymore, so I won’t. Honestly, I’d been so excited to see you grow up, go through that phase where we bicker and argue over small things before finally settling in the longest and most beautiful phase of our family dynamic…” I watched her lips quiver and eyes glaze over, my own mirroring as she shakily concluded “The one where we’re best friends who always look out for each other.” That broke me. Every emotion I’d trained myself to hide away when kids started asking questions I couldn’t answer, situations I’d wanted my mom in, moments I felt alone… I let it out in one volatile evening of self healing, the words on that tape echoing in my head long after it stopped playing. “The road ahead will be tough without me. It was always going to be. But, you’re the crown prince and you’ll eventually have that throne, survey your kingdom and know you can do ANYTHING and conquer ANYTHING… it’s getting closer now, but we still have some time left. So don’t let whatever is going on beat you, nor the thing after that. The Penguins didn’t, did they? I’m sure Grandpa told you, but they’re my favourite… those little birds share the burden of parenthood, walk over 100 miles and nearly starve to cultivate new life… I’d do all of that and more for you, honey. Because…” She closed her eyes, and I did too, without prompting, we said it together; “I’ll always be with you.” - It took time to get better. All things do. I would spend so many nights in withdrawal with the shakes, vomit, and staring up at a horrific beast looming over my bed. Like the thing on the tv but foggier, it’d imitate my movements and try to get closer. With every step, its eyes would glow just a bit brighter, everything else remaining shrouded in darkness, even if light passed through my curtains. I don’t know how I made it through that time of my life. One night, as it made its way to the foot of my bed, I closed my eyes and breathed on instinct, reciting my mother’s mantra. I suppose in moments of crisis; we turn to our most personal coping mechanisms and I wasn’t about to go back to the bottle. When I finished, it was gone. Over the years, I completed my program, got clean and went through therapy to cope with the grief. When I hit 26, I met the 2nd most important woman in my life; Natalie. She knew what it was like to go through pain, to go through suffering alone. To play with the wrong demons. We fell in love; we got engaged and eventually married. As she had been countless times before, mom was there to congratulate us. Natalie had seen some tapes, but this was her first one that in its own way was directed to her. Mom was nearing the end by this point, her thin frame barely clinging to her always beautiful dresses and her skin beginning to stretch like paper. She took great gulps of air from the oxygen tank before talking, but somehow retained that exuberance she’d always had. “I knew you’d find someone wonderful eventually, Nick. Penguins always find their mate for life and you’d be no exception!” She giggled through strained coughs, turning her head slightly as if she could see Natalie. “I don’t know you, but I bet you’re the most beautiful woman in the world if my crown prince chose you. Well, after me of course!” Another laugh, this time accompanied by tears from the two of us. “There’s just one more to go… So, look after each other. Love well and experience everything you can. And don’t forget…” Natalie gripped my hand with her left, a hand on her bump with the right as we closed our eyes. I could hear the scratching sound more prominently now, but I kept my eyes shut, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I’ll always be with you.” - We were so excited to have a baby. Natalie had come from a big family and was eager to start expanding our own. Even though I was reluctant, I couldn’t help but share in her enthusiasm when so many late nights were spent fawning over baby names, cute outfits and lofty plans for the future on how our kid would even behave around us. Determined to be “cool parents”. But in between all of that, my mind would cast back to those tapes of my mom, the only parent I really knew. I wanted to use them as a guidebook for my own steps. She’d been such an integral part of life, it seemed… odd to not have her in it now. Keeping the last tape separate, I re-watched the entire set one by one, reliving those moments I couldn’t truly appreciate until my own burgeoning journey into parenthood. But when I got to the broken bone tape, I froze. Once again, she leaned into the camera and whispered, eyes full of fright and panic. “Don’t look.” I pushed pause on the video and took a moment. Surely I was just highly medicated at the time, there couldn’t *really* be anything there, right? So why was I so reluctant to move my eyes to the right to find out? Taking a breath, I moved the video frame by frame and watched the corner where her face didn’t cover. That shadow. That same fucking shadow. Looming in the background, eyes burning red with fury. “DON’T LOOK. DON’T LOOK. DON’T LOOK. DON’T LOOK.” I jumped, the video was skipping, stuck on the sounds of my mother’s panic stricken voice begging me not to stare, but I couldn’t help it. I stared and watched this creature take confident, unnatural and twitchy strides from the background, getting ever closer to the camera. I saw the muscles on its face twist and undulate as it pressed its cheeks up into a twisted grin, the sight of rot and earth and unspeakable things in its mouth all displaying themselves in full glory as it intonated one word that sent screams through my home before shutting off. “SOON.” - Natalie was 8 months gone, petite and a history of prior drug abuse. They said her heart just couldn’t take it, her body gave out, and that it was a miracle our daughter survived. I took it all in and yet none of it as I cradled my entire universe in my arms, the second greatest woman I’d ever known now taken from me too. “Phoebe.” I breathed, unable to take my eyes off of her perfect little face as she slept soundly just 12ft from her dead mother. “Her name is Phoebe, and she is the crown princess.” Somewhere in the corner of my eye, a shadow cast itself over Natalie’s bed, right as they put the sheet over her. From that night on, there would always be noises outside our home. Always faint howling. Always a solitary spot in the front of the property where no light could touch it. For a while, I forgot about the videos. Forgot about everything that wasn’t Phoebe. Raising her became priority #1 and I would work any extra hours I needed to, give up any friendship I had to and spite myself in whatever way was necessary to ensure that my perfect girl slept soundly at night. It wasn’t until Phoebe’s 2nd birthday last week that I finally got the courage to dig out the videos and watch the last one. How many times had I sat in a home, emotionally destroyed and at a crossroads in my life, waiting to see this woman’s face and hope she’d somehow have the magic words to guide me? As the picture flickered on, the logo shining up on screen; I cast my head back with a mixture of surprise and sadness as I realised the significance of the year; I was older than her now. “Hi sweetie, I guess we’ve finally reached the end, huh?” Her voice sounded… younger. I looked down and saw her standing up. No chair or wallpaper in sight. It looked like she was recording this in her bedroom, a picture of health, all things considered. Her eyes red from crying but her voice unwavering, like she’d prepared these words carefully. “This is technically the final video for you, but the first for me. Weird how this all works, but this is how it needs to happen… if you’re watching this, you’ve got your own little princess to protect. The crown prince has now become the king, and I couldn’t be prouder!” She beamed, but my stomach tightened at those words. “Your own little princess.” I breathed, my chest tightening. How did she know? “I imagine you’re now wondering how I know. Well, that’s not the important part. What’s important is if you saw what you think you saw. Within the videos, between the frames. There is something lurking here, Nick. Something ancient.” I felt the house shudder, settling into place, no doubt. But I couldn’t separate myself from the fear running through my body. “It feeds on misfortune. It watches from the shadows and waits for small, tiny windows to make itself known. I don’t know where it came from or what it is, but I know what it wants…” A rumbling behind me, the sound of wood splintering and creaking. The unmistakable sound of tapping that i’d heard every time we did the mantra at the end of a video. I was shaking, but I didn’t stop watching. “It wants us, Nick. We seem to be a… source for it. When it finishes using us, it moves on. A long time ago... I was told that if I captured it in film, solidified it in these repeatable tapes, it would slow it down… maybe even stop it. I have no idea if it’ll work, but you deserve to know now that you can almost certainly see it too. Because if it doesn’t stop here, if YOU start to see it… start to experience misfortune…” My heart skipped. Tripping over the stairs and narrowly missing cracking my skull as a child, losing my first tooth. The hit and run that shattered my arm, my first broken bone. Marrying and losing Natalie, my first love… Oh no. Oh god, no. I willed my body to move, to leap out of the seat and rush to Phoebe’s room, but I had to hear the rest through, screaming at my mom to tell me the solution. “When your Deda Mihail told me about our curse… how he took me in after my Father died... about how it passes from father to daughter, mother to son, and so forth… You can try to avoid it, but it always finds a way…" She looked down in shame, clutching at her sleeves. "Truth be told; I didn’t want to get pregnant. But, things have a way of happening and I knew I couldn’t give you up.” She glanced behind her, something off camera scaring her into grabbing at her arms and rubbing them, shame and fear on her face. “I’m so sorry, baby. But I want you to know that there is power in these words. In these videos. I will do EVERYTHING I can to protect you, just like I know you’ll protect your child. No matter who it hurts in the process. Because…” One last time. I just had to close my eyes one last time and it would all be over. I did it on instinct. It didn’t matter that there was a slew of sounds alerting me to an invading presence in my home. That it was rapidly approaching me. All that mattered was the mantra. “I’ll be here for you, always.” But what I heard parroting me back was not my mother. A guttural, inhuman voice barked back the phrase and I swear I felt its breath inches from my face. I felt eyes unrestricted by pupils or sockets spin around, focusing on my weakest point. But I didn’t waver. After a few agonising moments, it darted away and out of view, leaving only the static of the TV to keep me aware that I wasn’t in fact dreaming. As soon as I knew it was safe, I ran to Phoebe’s room and checked on her, convinced that she was next in a long line of losses. Convinced that some otherworldly spectre had taken her from me. Convinced I would be alone again. You can imagine my relief when I opened the door to find her softly sleeping, clutching her teddy bear with his own attached blankie. The same toy my mom had given me. I looked at her with the enormity of the situation overshadowing me. The realisation she was the same age I was when my mom got diagnosed. The realisation that soon, I would be the one making a slew of videos for milestones I’d never get to see her inherit. My crown princesses’ kingdom of nightmares. And I don’t know if this is what my mother intended, but I took those words at the end to heart. “Protect your child. No matter who it hurts in the process.” - I’m sorry, everyone. I don’t know HOW this translates across mediums, but there is power in describing an old and malevolent force. Just like there is seeing it in the corner of your eye or when you experience a lucky break from death. A mis-step here and a wrong turn there. You’ll always see it. My mother gave up everything to buy time, give me the chance to right the wrongs and find a better way, a way that involves my daughter growing up with her father in her life, without the plague of whatever this is hanging over either of us. Maybe you won’t be the one, maybe it will simply look at you and find you not to its liking as it did me that fateful night, inches away from my flesh and determining that I simply wasn’t “ripe enough” yet. But someone will come across this, and it will bite. It will bite and never let go. Be it nightmares, sleep paralysis, a slew of unfortunate mishaps or something flitting in the corner of your eye, it’ll be there. Whatever it is. Waiting. I wish you well, and I hope you don’t judge me too harshly. But to me and to Phoebe, family is everything. So close your eyes and take a deep breath. Because they’ll always be with you. submitted by /u/tjaylea to r/nosleep [link] [comments]

A post inspired by the new Jaclyn Cosmetics lipsticks, which may be the hottest mess of a launch I have ever had the privilege of witnessing. A short OOTL of the drama: Jaclyn Hill has been promising to release her own makeup line since 2014/2015 at least. Due to life events such as her divorce in 2018, the launch date of her line was understandably pushed back several times. At the end of May, Jaclyn made a launch video finally announcing her new cosmetics brand, Jaclyn Cosmetics. Her first release was 20 lipsticks, all in nude shades and priced at $18 apiece. Interestingly, though her brand is named Jaclyn Cosmetics, the component on her lipstick says JH. I believe before her divorce she was planning on naming her company Jaclyn Hill Cosmetics (Hill is her ex-husbands surname); this will come into play later. Recently, people have been taking to Twitter to complain about multiple bizarre issues with the lipsticks. Lipsticks often arrived melted or broken. Example 2 While Jaclyn's line does contain several plant butters, it is strange that they weren't tested to withstand the heat of shipping. I have read that normally lipsticks are formulated to stay together up to 130F heat (a hot summer day is maybe 80-90F for my non-Americans). In addition, many contain hard plastic balls inside the lipstick. One of the most common complaints is strange texture after just a few applications. A Twitter user named Veronica tweeted this photo to Jaclyn. Jaclyn's response was pretty unprofessional and insinuated that Veronica’s dry lips could have caused the issue. Veronica was subsequently attacked on Twitter by Jaclyn fans for having crusty lips. Up until this point, I kind of thought the drama was overblown. Weird texture, while aesthetically unappealing in an industry that’s all about appearances, shouldn’t affect the overall performance of the lipstick. However, the next couple of things to come out were unfathomably bad. A beauty influencer named Brianna Fox posted an Instagram story of her pulling long hairs (that look like actual human hairs? who knows) out of the lipstick itself. Another beauty influencer, Raw Beauty Kristi, posted this image on Twitter, as well as up-close videos with her handheld microscope zooming in on the hairs. WARNING: GROSS AF 🤢😷 As you can see, both blonde and black fibers, as well as air bubbles are embedded into the very structure of the lipstick. Second link with additional photos After melting the lipstick, these bizarre little balls (they actually look like metal ball bearings) remained stable, leading people to think that they weren’t just recrystallized plant butters since they would have melted along with the wax. Compared to Charlotte Tilbury and MAC lipsticks shown under the same scope, you can see that the air bubbles and little fibers are not present in these brands’ lipsticks. Jaclyn went on Twitter and said that the fibers were not hair, and were actually from furry gloves that her team used during quality assurance testing. I’ve never seen a cosmetics company use anything but nitrile gloves, which don’t have any fibers to shed. Furthermore, QA products are normally not introduced back into the product that’s sent to consumers. Although this is not proven, people are starting to wonder whether the lipsticks are several years old. Given the JH labeling on the component, they could have been produced back in the Jaclyn Hill Cosmetics era (~2016). Cream-based lipsticks have a shelf life of 1 year, so potentially the impurities were introduced while they were sitting on a shelf for much longer than that. However, I will say that looking at my own bullet lipsticks that are over a year old, none of them have anything (hairs, plastic, fungus) embedded inside them. I don’t know very much about cosmetics manufacturing, but I do know a lot about the FDA after working in a clinical trials lab for the past two years. The amount of bureaucracy required to meet all FDA standards is incredible— literally a full-time job for one person just to ensure a lab is compliant. Cosmetics, especially ones that can be ingested like lipsticks, are regulated by the FDA, which is why it’s insane to me that this level of uncleanliness and potential microbial growth was allowed. While I feel awful for the people duped into buying these lipsticks and wasting their hard earned money, as well as the health risks from the possible mold, I’m also a messy bitch who loves drama. If y’all have commentary on Jaclyn Cosmetics or tales of even worse launches (Kuckian Cosmetics anyone?), I’d love to hear it! submitted by /u/skincarethrowaway665 to r/muacjdiscussion [link] [comments]

This is an incident I remember pretty vividly that I think could qualify as being an entitled parents story. This happened a while ago, so all conversations are paraphrased. TL;DR at the end, and a warning up front for anyone who gets freaked out by blood that there's a fair bit in this story. So back when I was like, 7, my mom took me and my little sisters out to a waterpark one day because it was hot and we weren't allowed to play with the hose anymore due to the fact that we tended to get a little too rowdy with it. When I say "waterpark", it's an exaggeration, because the place was really more of a playground with water based equipment (splash pads, sprinklers, etc), but it was absolutely perfect for a bunch of cagey, overheated children to go wild in, so we had a blast. Obviously, given the day's heat, we were not the only ones who had the idea, so the park was absolutely packed with children, but we didn't mind. After about 3 or so hours of goofing around, we had finally managed to tire ourselves out. We changed out of our swimsuits into dry clothes, toweled off our hair as best we could (or rather, mom toweled off our hair while we complained about it), and piled into the car to head back home. Given the playground's popularity, it had an actual parking lot, which my mom did her best to navigate, stopping frequently to avoid hitting the occasional toddler that would dash out in front of her. We came to a stop behind another minivan at the exit of the parking lot. My mom flipped her turn signal on, waiting patiently for the car in front to turn as well. WHAM! I distinctly remember being thrown forward, my tiny body slamming painfully against my car seat's restraints. I remember watching the water bottles on the floor in front of me being launched briefly into the air before rolling aimlessly around the car. For some reason, the image of the water bottles is what first comes to mind when I think of this. Having no idea what was going on, and being very young children, my sisters and I began crying, though none of us were actually hurt. Apparently, what had happened was that a lady in a Honda hadn't been paying attention or something, and had rear-ended our car, pushing us forward and causing us to crash into the back of the car in front of us, effectively pinballing us. The lady from the car in front, who I'll call Liza, exited her vehicle, understandably pretty pissed at having been rear ended, and was about to give my mom (now out of the car) a piece of her mind when she noticed the Honda still right up on my mom's bumper, giving her pause. Upon hearing my sisters and I crying though, and seeing my mom trying to pry the car door open (it was one of those automatic doors, but something had gotten screwed up in the crash because it wasn't opening right), she leapt into action, helping my now frantic mother to wrench the doors open and check on us. Again, we were all fine. We'd had our seatbelts on, and the minivan was essentially the vehicular equivalent of bubble-wrap; it crumpled so we didn't have to. Relieved that none of us were hurt, my mom did her best to soothe us, putting The Little Mermaid on the car's drop-down dvd player, which pretty instantly calmed my little sisters. She then stepped back out to talk to the driver who had hit us, hoping to exchange insurance information, and was instead met with a demon. Said demon, who I shall call Sharon, had been in the middle of a phone call to somebody (the police, maybe?) that she dropped the second she saw my mom walking over. Her eyes narrowed, her face twisted, her gucci sunglasses glinted menacingly in the sunlight as she screeched "YOU!!", pointing an accusatory hot-pink talon at my mother. I didn't pick up on most of the conversation, but from what my mom later relayed to me, this woman was evidently furious that my mom had "stopped right in front of her", and was trying to claim that it was my mom stopping that had caused the accident, even though my mom had actually been stopped for several seconds before the impact, which completely invalidated Sharon's argument. At this point, Liza had already gotten back into her car and drove off, meaning it was now just Sharon and my mom left to argue over this. I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to just drive off like that, but her car had barely been damaged at all (somehow), and she had seen that my sisters and I were okay, so she probably thought that this wasn't too serious an accident, and just decided to bail. Turns out she wasn't quite right about that. Now, here's a fun fact about me: I can sometimes be an absolutely insufferable busy-body. There are moments when I cannot, for the life of me, remain idle. I just feel like I have to be doing something. This was one of those moments. I hopped out of the car, my sandaled feet slapping on the asphalt as Sharon and my mother yelled over on the sidewalk. I looked around desperately for something I could be doing, and saw a little blonde girl, probably around my sisters' age (4-5), who I'll call Daisy, stumble out of Sharon's car. She was sniffling, tears running down her face as she clumsily fell into a sitting position, but tears weren't the only thing there. From somewhere beneath her bangs, I saw red dripping down, and I recognized it as blood. A whole lot of blood. I was actually kind of relieved to see the blood. Not in like a psycho way or anything, don't worry, but because the sight of blood put her into a category that I knew what to do with. When someone was bleeding, you give them a band-aid. This was something I could do to help! So I leaned back into the car and dug through my mom's gigantic purse, locating the big box of Incredibles themed band-aids, which I then carried over to Daisy. I sat myself down on the ground next to her, pushing her hair aside to reveal a sizable gash in her forehead. Daisy just kind of accepted what I was doing, didn't really say anything or question why this random kid was attempting first aid, which was a bit of a relief, because I probably wouldn't have known what to say if she had been hesitant. Instead, I just started babbling aimlessly about The Incredibles as I stuck bandaids to her face, doing so largely because I had heard that talking to people helps calm them down. The cut was way too big for a single bandaid to cover it, so I stuck multiple on, making sure to stick them vertically so that the padded part in the middle was most directly on the cut. Now, not to get too graphic, and I apologize for those of you who don't like blood, but this wasn't exactly a pretty scene. I mean, it was a head-wound; they bleed a lot. My hands were getting slippery after not too long, and I noticed that the blood was already starting to soak through the flimsy bandaids. Not knowing what else to do, I started layering them, sticking more bandaids on top of the ones that had soaked through, but there weren't a whole lot in the box to begin with, so I was running out fast. By now I was definitely nervous, as I'd never seen anything like this before, and I didn't know how to fix it. I started trying to stick the bandaid wrappers in with the bandaids to provide as much extra layering as I could, but I didn't know what I was doing. I mean, I was 7 years old for christ's sake, I wasn't a doctor. Keeping my hand pressed against Daisy's head for lack of a better idea, I turned to face the spot where my mother and Sharon were still arguing. Sharon had her back to us, and my mom was too busy trying not to lose her shit on this woman to notice us. "Hey, mom?" I called out. She couldn't hear me over Sharon's screeching, so I had to try again. "Mom?" I called again, louder this time. "Mom, I- I need some help!" Whether it was that my trembling voice actually rose above Sharon's, or that her mom-senses were tingling, my mother's head turned to look at me. There was maybe about a half-second of confusion before she processed what she was looking at, and her face twisted in horror. "Oh my god!" She shouted, pushing past Sharon and throwing herself to the ground next to Daisy and I. "Mom, I don't know what to do!" I cried, tears starting to form again in my eyes at the feeling of helplessness. "I tried putting on bandaids but they aren't working!" "It's okay honey," my mom reassured me, though her voice was shaking. It probably didn't help that Daisy looked a whole lot like one of little sisters. "You did a good job, but she needs a doctor." From above us, I heard a choked "Daisy?!" Sharon, irate at having been blown off, had come stomping over to the three of us, but froze in her tracks once she actually realized what she was looking at. All the fight left her in an instant as she dropped down to the asphalt, pushing my blood soaked hands aside to get a better look at the shoddily-patched wound on her daughter's head. "I'm going to call 911" My mother said, already in the process of heading back to grab her phone, but Sharon stopped her, saying that she'd called them the second the crash had happened. All we had to do was wait. "Did you not even bother to check on her?" My mother growled, fixing Sharon with a look far more venomous than a woman as normally friendly as her should be capable of. A dazed "huh?" was Sharon's only response, so my mom continued. "When the car crashed!" She snapped. "When the car crashed, did you even bother turning around to check whether or not your daughter was okay, or did you just burst out to come yelling at me?!" My mom is not a violent person. With the possible exception of the time she fist-fought a different EM in a Walmart parking lot, my mother is not the type to resort to physical violence. She generally prefers to use more subtle means to destroy those who have wronged her than the blunt instrument of violence, and yet in that moment she looked ready to snap Sharon's neck. The idea that this woman could be so careless as to not check on her own child after a car wreck really sent her over the edge. Sharon just sobbed wordlessly, evidently beyond speaking at the time, and my mom relented, refraining from grilling this woman any further for the time being, but the seething fury in her eyes didn't abate until long after both Sharon and Daisy were gone, loaded up into the back of an ambulance. Sharon's insurance paid for our car. Apparently she'd sobered up after seeing the reality of the situation, because she readily confessed to the fact that yes, the accident had been her fault. She said she'd been rummaging around the glovebox, trying to find her sunglasses because it was so bright out that day, and hadn't been paying attention. She also admitted that Daisy hadn't been properly buckled into her car seat. She said that looking back on it, she has no idea why she acted the way she did. Perhaps it was because she knew the accident was her fault but didn't want to admit it. Daisy was okay. She'd lost a fair bit of blood, but nothing too serious, and the cut hadn't really been all that deep. She just needed a few stitches, and she was good to go. I know this because I refused to let it go, worrying that I'd done something wrong and being very wound up about it, so my mother, who was also still concerned, actually tracked Sharon down to ask about how Daisy was doing. Sharon apparently broke down during that meeting, apologizing profusely for her behavior and saying that she was a terrible mother and felt awful for letting it happen, etc. That was the last contact my mom ever had with Sharon, so I don't know what happened in her life after that. Whether that's the kind of thing that can get your kid taken away from you or not isn't something I claim to know, but I hope Daisy's still doing alright, wherever she is. TL;DR: Lady rear ends us, causing her un-secured daughter to receive a gnarly head wound that lady doesn't even notice because she was too busy yelling at my mom. EDIT: Since so many people asked, the Wal-Mart fight story has now been posted. Check my profile since I'm a dumb bitch who doesn't know how to link. submitted by /u/FeralTaxEvader to r/entitledparents [link] [comments]

At the beginning of 2016 I was 23 years old. I was known as the blonde lead singer, fiddle player and principle songwriter of The Willis Clan and the eldest sister of 12 kids. We performed on tour frequently and we were finishing up filming the second season of a reality TV show about our family. A fourth official album was in the works and there was always something exciting and challenging coming up on the calendar. The turn of that year was also the darkest period of my life. The truth of what I was living every day was nothing like what people saw on the outside. And that jarring discrepancy hadn’t come out of nowhere. There was a wound that had always been a part of my world and it had never been addressed. Now it was going to kill me if I didn’t find a way to get free of its power. My story is complicated. It’s deeply private, personal and way too long to share in full —just as the story of anyone’s life would be. However, after much recent deliberation and soul searching, I have come to realize that I feel a responsibility to the truth itself and my conscience demands a public denouncement of the previous life I helped hide for so long. Speculation and confusion has muddied the waters of late and I’ve found that the longer I go without speaking up, the longer I feel trapped in the continued power of my past. As far back as I can remember, I was sexually abused by my father. I figure I was around three years old in some of the earliest memories. Initially, I had no way to know that anything was wrong. When I did eventually come to realize the fact, I had no way to accurately express what was happening to me. There followed immense shame, distrust and hurt throughout my childhood – even in the happy times. Thus ran the two parallel storylines that became my life. An initial awareness of questionable behavior began when I was around nine years old. Something (I’m still not sure what) caused my mother to become suspicious of my father’s interactions. I didn’t realize there was zero evidence of anything specific and all I did was nod uncertainly when a few general questions were asked by my mother. I heard my mother raise her voice to my father for the first time in my life and I thought the adults would figure it out. I didn’t understand that my father simply denied any wrongdoing and became more secretive and dangerous from then on. Suffice it to say my father controlled the family in every single area of life. Underneath the outward foundations of family, religion and homeschooling with an emphasis in the arts, there was a constant current of manipulation, domination, fear and favor. There was very little room inside the bubble of my world to imagine that there was any alternative. Looking back now, it’s almost impossible to face the fact of what my life once used to be. Many things were normal for me that should have never been met with anything other than outrage. The abuse developed and ebbed at various intervals over the years and into puberty. The most graphic sexual abuse faded off for me when I was around seventeen years old but many inappropriate actions and attentions continued. From time to time the ever growing but still nebulous awareness grew to include more members of the family. Over the years periodic confrontations happened between my parents and eventually involved various siblings as we struggled to pin down the monster in the shadows that we couldn’t seem to pull into the light. I feel like I truly knew that certain other members of my family were being sexually abused and I felt they knew this about me too. Conversations were had, tears were cried and we questioned how to “deal” with the “situation”. But I now realize that since we all were different ages with completely different viewpoints, separate experiences and limited vocabularies, even when we tried to speak to each other, each person thought they were talking about something different. Once I was no longer being graphically abused, the worst of it became like a purposely forgotten nightmare and I tried to thrive in a way I hadn’t been able to before. Though I was confused by the many rigorous and philosophical beliefs that were channeled into me by my father, I was getting older and dreaming of a life where I had a future of my own with the possibility of freedom, independence and love. It bears saying that my firsthand exposure to these things was extremely limited but I was not completely broken inside as to think that they didn’t exist at all. My childhood explorations in music and writing provided me a personal tool for self-expression that I now partially credit with saving my life. The innocent, hurt, curious, hopeful child hidden within me gravitated to the magic of storytelling’s emotional truth and wisdom. Through my love of these things I was able to preserve a connection to the deep parts of me that I didn’t understand or accept or couldn’t explain to the world. It helped me connect with others with authenticity when words failed. Over the next few years, my daily life transformed dramatically as my family became more and more public. My father shaped us from child students to child performers and at some vaguely discernible point we became a touring dance troupe and then band. He always promoted his philosophy, showcasing the family as the living proof of the validity of his methods and beliefs. I remember at one point being a model member of this strange and highly performance oriented group, complete with a belief on nearly every subject, and constantly ready to make a range of demonstrations on cue. With time, I came to sense the increasing divide between where my life was heading and where I realized I wanted to go. Bigger platforms and higher octane schedules led to pressures that can stress even the healthiest of systems. Our family system was disturbingly sick. For a long time now I had felt like I was going through life with a massive bomb strapped to my chest that I knew would one day detonate. In 2011, I wrote a song called Speak My Mind wherein I wondered if I ever did get the courage to speak out and break free, would other people understand me or love me or be there for me? I was desperate for help but also felt that anyone who came close enough to help me would get hurt. Could I knowingly do that to someone? I was getting glimpses of different lifestyles, examples of other beliefs and other lives but I knew I was not going to get from where I was to where I wanted to be without major changes. My husband, Sean, came into my life at the beginning of 2015. He was not the first person to teach me what love can be like but he truly changed my life forever. Neither of us were ever alone in our journey; there is a special and beautiful thread of people who shaped us throughout our lives before we knew each other and there is a community that was there with us through the hardest parts of our fight. There were many rules in my family for communication, friendships and relationships but it universally came down to my father’s favor and if that was lost, any person, family or group would be cut off by whatever means necessary. My husband and I had that general favor for the first few months and he was welcomed in to experience the full performance of The Willis Clan in up-close action. Sean came over to spend time with the family countless times and visited our home church meetings. He brought me flowers on Valentine's Day and in March we went on one date with chaperones. However, it wasn’t long before our growing connection became a threat to my father’s control and the favor evaporated. April’s schedule brought a band tour and I hit the road with my family on our tour bus. It was the day before my 23rd birthday and we were in Minnesota performing and filming our tv show. I came into my hotel room that night to find my mother and some of my sisters sitting on the bed crying with that look on their face I had seen so many times before. The coldest, blackest pit opened up in my stomach because no words needed to be said for me to know something had happened. How was I here again? I could not stay in denial about my past because it obviously wasn’t staying in the past even though at times I had tried so hard to forgive and forget. Things were not over. They had never been over. Sexual abuse was still happening. And I knew it. Deep in my gut. Life seemed thin and fragile and about to shatter in that moment. The delicate balance of ignorance and fear and hope was about to break wide open. I was the adult now. Something had to change. I said things to my father that night. I told him I would not ignore it this time. I told him I would leave as soon as I could find out how to do so. Other family members echoed similar declarations. (Again, this is another situation that my mom, my siblings and I have been able to talk about more recently and peel back the layers of confusion and conflict to understand that we all had different viewpoints and interpretations of events during that night.) From that day on, our public life continued on without missing a beat - If anything, it intensified. All threats or ultimatums made to my father were brushed aside and the runaway train that was The Willis Clan gained speed. I kept up the outward show but within the family, things began to fall apart for me. I continued my relationship with Sean without my parent’s consent and it eventually went completely underground. As things got weirder, he struggled to make sense of the situation. He shared books and resources with me not realizing just how valuable I found the information at that time. I came to view what my father had done with increasing horror. I was less and less cooperative with him and had to face the mounting consequences. The middle of August arrived and found our family neck deep in filming a live concert DVD. Things were strained and rehearsals included huge blowups and power struggles between my father and I or sometimes another sibling. That weekend, Sean sent me a message saying he thought he had “figured out what had happened in my past”. I confirmed. I remember him asking me if I was safe. I looked around and, though I didn’t voice it, I realized I was not. No one had ever told their truth. No one had ever truly stood up to my father. I personally had never shared the details of what he had done to me. Doing so would put me in danger but it had to be done. I sat down and wrote a fourteen page document about the worst abuse. It poured out of me in terrible detail and it was the first time I felt the power of its story. I showed the letter to my mother who was rightly outraged. My father refused to read it and accused me of lying. I had taken my first step towards speaking out, but I had shared my story with another victim trapped in the same prison as me. My father lashed out at both of us with whatever threats necessary to maintain his control and began consistently threatening my mom with the lives of the entire family. I continued to look for a way out on my own but it can seem impossible to jump off a runaway train. When we arrived home from tour that autumn, I was somehow able to go out with Sean one more time. When I arrived home that night, my family had been made aware of my secret and inappropriate communication with him and Sean was excommunicated. My father threatened his life. I was forced by my father to “break up with him” multiple times over the following months. All manner of technology or communication was taken away from me and even secret letters were found out. It was imperative to keep me closed off from all help as I was now fighting to get out. My life amounted to a type of house arrest. I sank into the first depression of my life and lost close to fifteen pounds. We continued to perform, to film and for the first time I saw the reality of my life. The abuse was in my mind every day. How could I have stayed this long? My father sought to stamp out my rebellion and became increasingly violent towards me even in front of the family. I felt myself losing my grip on sanity. I was accused of being the only problem in the family, ruining everything. It was said I was possessed by a demon. The way things were escalating, I began to fear for my life. In January, my father assaulted me on the tour bus in front of the entire family. He blamed my disobedience and defied everyone though my mother and siblings tried to interfere. A police car pulled up behind us and when the officer entered, I hid in my bunk to hide the blood and the forming bruises. Everyone put on their show faces. In that moment, I knew I was betraying myself. I was the one keeping me prisoner. (Again, all of this is extremely abbreviated. I have focused on my own personal narrative and tried to distill events down to the most impactful points.) I woke up one morning during the first week of April, not knowing it was the day I was going to finally leave. The TV show had just finished filming, we were in TN at a new rental house and we had a few weeks before our next gig. Halfway through the morning, my brother Jair and I had a disagreement and he went to our father. Dad came down and confronted me. When I didn’t apologize, he took off his belt and beat me like when I was younger. He said it was his god-given responsibility to punish me. It was in that moment I knew. The threats and violence stopped working. No matter how it happened, I would leave by tonight. The rest of the day was like a blur. I had tried to leave multiple times before and was always physically prevented. But something was different this time. I was almost in a coma, not saying much, one half of me completely paralyzed in fear and the other half slowly proceeding — almost calmly, holding each little inch of ground I gained. One after another there were various threats of further violence and legal repercussions from dad. My mother and siblings made religious and emotional appeals. Everyone was terrified of what would happen if I really left. But these things had lost their power over me. I was so far retreated into myself that I somehow found the trembling strength to keep insisting. I was allowed to use a phone to call a friend and without being given an explanation, she told me I was welcome to come and stay for as long as I needed. I had no plan but the immediate steps eventually took shape. Two of my siblings offered to drive me. Sean had gotten me an emergency phone that I had been too afraid to use. I now dug it out from between my mattress and boxspring and sent a message saying I was coming out. In every moment of that car ride, I felt I was about to wretch my guts out. I had never felt so physically sick with fear and a grimacing determination. I woke up the next morning in a strange new world. My 24th birthday was only a few days away. It had taken way too long and at times I thought I would die but I had finally escaped. I had left everything but a few clothes and personal items. It was astounding to me that life continued on like nothing had happened; the earth continued to turn. One day at a time, I tried to begin again. I saw my family a few times after I left and I felt such guilt towards leaving my mom and siblings and also struggled with an overwhelming responsibility to the band that I’d left in such a lurch. I helped them with a few projects but it was incredibly strange and I felt like I didn’t exist as soon as we were off stage or off camera. The contrast of being outside of my family’s bubble and then being back in the thick of it was overwhelming. Even though I had left, I felt immense pressure not to mess with what my family continued to portray to the public. I could not yet find the power to break that hold. I tried to block my family from my mind as I dove into the safety net that emerged around me. I knew now that I could not break said hold without keeping away from the whole system. Friends and eventually various support groups helped me in seeing a therapist with extensive trauma training. People who I’d never met showed up for me in a way I’d never experienced before. I learned about trauma, abuse, recovery, dysfunctional family systems and finally found the vocabulary to accurately describe what had happened to me. At first my mouth would not move no matter how hard I tried to speak and my body would shake and shut down. But these words had power and their exact meaning told the truth I had experienced. There is something profound in finally being able to speak for yourself, to tell your story and know you are right. It was as if speaking my story began to make my truth accessible in the real world. Around 4 months after I left, another friend stepped forward to save the rest of my family. He reported my father for suspicion of sexual abuse and the official investigation started. The case was given to the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation. When they contacted me, I went in and ended up speaking with them the whole rest of that day. I was able to give them a long and confident testimony which was eventually used to create the arrest warrant. I was warned not to speak to my family at this time and if they reached out, I should let the TBI do their job. There was great concern on how to keep everyone alive and safe while trying to apprehend my father. It was no exaggeration to fear a violent confrontation, standoff, kidnapping or worse. It was a harrowing few weeks but my father was finally arrested. I truly think that the full extent of the abuse will never be known; I know even with this partial account of my personal experience alone, it is complex. I also believe that no matter the method of telling, no one else will ever fully understand what it is like to live through something like that unless you too have been there in your own way. The investigation unearthed so many more things that my family as a whole was unaware of and there are still sometimes no words to describe what happened in it’s fullest magnitude. Healing is a lifelong process. I remain personally dedicated to always leaning further into my recovery and pursuing my own education so I will never be without the tools that would prevent me from [website blog link](www.jessicawillisfisher.com) held prisoner in such a situation again. As my mom and siblings move forward with their lives, I am so grateful for the chance we have had to heal and continue to grow closer – most recently through the process of me preparing and sharing this account. My mom and siblings each have their own powerful stories and they are all beautiful survivors. I have felt such support from them in the telling of this story and I look forward to supporting them in theirs. I have a beautiful life for which I am incredibly grateful. I married my amazing husband last year. He too has his own truly inspiring story throughout this crazy tale and I’m so thankful that he constantly invited me towards a better life since the moment I met him. I have had so much help and support from so many other people and organizations. Most recently, I spent the beginning of February attending an amazing program at a place called Onsite which, as it turns out, was the place my husband was working when I first met him. I am not currently a part of The Willis Clan band but I will aways be a part of the Willis family. There is much to learn for myself about the truth of healthy relationships, faith, family, home, success, fulfillment and so much more. I appreciate the grace that is given by those closest to me. I assert my right to protect the privacy of my personal life while still feeling free to explore and passionately pursue my dreams and goals. I am excited by the possibilities of the future and the beauty of the now. If you are someone whose honesty and vulnerability invited me further into true connection, you have helped save my life. I can still struggle with the wish that I could have stood up sooner, been stronger, saved myself and my family in the way that was desperately needed for so long. But I have learned that I did the best I could at the times when it felt like there was no choice. I didn’t know until I finally knew, I couldn’t stand until I finally stood. There is no shame in finally being strong. I am a survivor. As both my 26th birthday and the anniversary of my leaving draws near, I find it amazing to reflect on the past two years. I have learned that even when I do find the courage to speak my mind, not everyone will understand or be there for me. But that’s not why I am doing this. For me not to speak up and acknowledge what has happened would be like hiding in the bus all over again. It would be to hide my own painful past and pretend that I wasn’t a part of the act because I am afraid of what might happen or whether my story will be misunderstood. Writing and sharing this piece is an important step for me in owning my story, loving myself and others, and moving forward to live the life that I truly want to live. If you too are a survivor, you are not alone. Jessica Fisher [my blog post](www.jessicawillisfisher.com) submitted by /u/JessicaWillisFisher to r/TwoXChromosomes [link] [comments]