Mag am I the asshole ta bi kai mas ma gets pa ninyu ang culture nato. Taas2x ni e explain so bear with me lang.
Going to be graduating by the end of the month and my closest and supportive best friend booked a ticket in advance to come see me graduate college. I was really looking forward to seeing her since most of my barkada resides in Davao and I haven't seen them in forever. She as well asked to stay over my place to save cost sa accomodation which I really didn't mind at all and of consulted my BF who I live with and he was fine with it too, he was only concerned for her due our 30kg dog thats about her height that lives inside our home.
Since I'm migrating soon pud, she somewhat convinced the whole group (3 people) to come to Cebu to see my graduate and hang out with me before I leave the country indefinitely. She was supposed to surprise me with them in the airport when I was only expecting her, yet caught her using "plurals" (Kami, namo, etc.) When talking about the upcoming trip and she admitted na she extended the 3 day stay to a full week with our closest friends. I was really excited and grateful for the thought of it yet was concerned about the costs sa ilang stay. I recently quit my job and bf cannot work, we are living on his emergency funds till we are able to get a clear on the papers abroad so we are trying to be frugal in a way where we are still able to live comfortably. Of course I had to run this pass my bf and he was happy to extend the invite to my friends and was just worried bout how we were going to fit them in our 1 spare bedroom (yes he is awesome lol)
By yesterday grabi ko anxiety while talking to her, this was a HUGE NEWS FOR ME. Wala jud sa ako plan to gasto for laag yet it made sense nlng pud kai it is a milestone for me too and may not see them again. I was anxious further talking bout the trip kai it seems like na pugos niya amo other friend na walai funds og ga duha2x og ari, and she specifically instructed me to not mention anything about the costs sa among tentative itinerary (laag) to my other friend kai for sure mu back out daw kuno. I really appreciate the gesture and I'm down to spend time with them yet I do not want to cover any extra expenses that may arise in case they fall short. I told her this and she took it the wrong way, She said "We’re going there not expecting for u to spend money on us", "We're working we can spend for ourselves", "We can afford this trip" mura siyag na lain like I'm belittling her ability to pay. I've been bag packing for 2 years and I know how tiny expenses like entrance fees can accumulate greatly especially in a span of a week, I was really deeply concerned kai she drop the figure of 10k to cover them 3 for 5 days of in Cebu so I just wanted to make sure she understands na mahal ang Cebu labaw na if gnahan sila mu laag2x, 10k is not enough for 3 pax in 5 days. So I made her an planed itinerary sa few places she mentioned and inserted things that we cannot miss too and its costing via spreadsheet down to details sa transport and expenses sa laag (wala pa labot ang food) para lang naa siya idea pila jud dapat nila e set aside (monetarily prepare) for the trip, this way it will give them a full month to save and re-evaluate kung mu dayun sila og tour2x or omit some to cut costs and be on an agreement to what is attainable.
Today, she surprisingly adds na naa daw lain guy na mu kuyog sa trip which she describes as "Uyab sa mama sa uyab ni (friend #2) hahaha nag laag lang ug Philippines na kedad ra nato" I was really shocked and reactive to this. I told her this was not cool and I was not comfortable with this. She added "He’ll pay for himself and actually help pay for ours too" and will be booking his own accommodation so I don't need to worry daw. Yet I am very worried, I don't know this guy and why do you need someone else to pay for your trip? So I think iyang perspective is if Kung daghan mi mas barato which is really not the case. Especially since I proposed to rent out a 5 seater car (she wanted to go to busay mountain tour) and upgrading that to a 7 seater will costs more to chip in. I really had a violent reaction to this and we argued over chat she ended up with:
"We’re going there only to see you and additional na na if we could spend time and enjoy going to places with u while ur here and one person is happy to cover the most cost for all of us in the trip, which will help them (friend 2 and friend 3) and of course will help u too kay problematic na kaayo ka sa spending If dili sad ka gusto we can still plan things out since we paman sad mi dira. If di ka, edi dili ka. Ana lang. ikaw man amo adtuan so we’ll respect what u want. Adto rami for ur grad and that’s it."
Feel nko na iyang idea for a trip to Cebu is to tambay along as long as naai ma tulgan ok na and e happy go lucky ra "or make it as it goes along the way" we'll be fine. Yet I am concerned to house 3 of them without income for any upcoming additional costs na she may not see comming.
I feel bad yet frankly I don't know how to make this okay for me, na suko pud siya, wala na siya ni reply I just responded with: To put it simpler, we simply cannot afford this right now especially when we are looking to move to a country that's very expensive we are both jobless and trying to stick to a budget. If the main reason why you're inviting a +1 is to help with your side of the expenses yet it will make ours more, it would be best to reconsider your trip. This is quite a pressure on our side too and I really hope you see that I am very concerned about the additional expenses that may occur that I would need to cover in case if your budget falls short. It's nothing against you, it's just being rational and practical.
Sooo, kababayan... AITA?

Hey Pham. Jeph here! I'm a nube Sorry lol, I'll learn quick, promise! :)
My goal is to meet make phriends with some of you and talk about your phavorite band Phish and hopefully become part of your community.
I am from Canada and have been to a TON of concerts myself but have never seen Phish being in Canada (yeah I know they've been here)! I have seen Nickelback 8 TIMES! I have also seen Creed phour times, Hoobastank twice (they were REALLY good), and Sister Hazel once back when I was a kid with my Uncle Steven. I almost saw the The Guess Who once on one of their farewell tours but my girlfriend didn't want to go because she heard they have kind of a rough crowd...dropped her obv....she should see the Creed fans sheesh! Where was my head at OMG? Needless to say, I have been dying to see what all the fuss is about for I am sure your band is really good too from what I have heard so far and want to learn more because I've really broadened my horizons as of late as I will explain shortly.
This all started when I broke up with my girl that didn't think going to the Guess Who show was a good idea (stinkin' filthy bitch, those guys rock!)....This was probably the wisest decision of my life because shortly thereafter, I met my first girlfriend that smoked reefer. She got me into a few Grateful Dead songs she really liked, like Touch of Grey, Casey Jones, and The Pride of Cucamonga which she said were all really big hits. I then started listening little by little to more albums, then onto live, and realized what a cool thing it was that they jammed individually each song a little bit differently. It was really neat to here that. This, then made the obvious progression into my introduction to the "jam-scene" as a whole. I follow at least 18 or 19 of them on Spotify including our guys from Vermont (see, I'm learning). I'm so jealous of all you "heads" with all these experiences! Like my lingo so far? I have been trying really hard to learn it. You guys all sound cool when you talk haha. Speaking of that, I also heard there are these things at Phish concerts called "Wuhks". I heard they are generally phriendly people but turn into crusty-mouthed hag zombies if they do too much nitrous oxides. Apparently dread locks are a tell. Is that true? I heard you guys like to do that (oxides), and I'm open to experiment myself with it. But just one little hit to start (and I heard I should sit down?). Weird but sounds cool. Whooooa. Got sidetracked sorry haha! :)
Anywho, I have recently been getting into more and more jambands (my new fav genre lol), I've been catching up on SOJA (they're kind of reggae but they can wail), Twiddle, BK3 (they're my least favourite so far but not too bad), Bassnectar, The Macpods, and a couple of others. I like Zoogma too, but their stuff gets kind of frightening when I am on the weed. Yikes! Really good stuff so far, but all of it was trumped when I heard the best band I've ever heard in my life to date. GOOSE. They are SO GOOD-SE (LOL I mean GOOD and geese are from fuckin' Canada!!!!), that my new girlfriend and I spent our hard-earned money with just having heard their soothing voices on Spotify for two weeks straight! I mean literally, day, night, and sleep! We ran out of material in like 8 hours but it we just threw it on repeat and it was hard to tell the difference of any of it, it was so good, they're just so chill ya know?! So anyways, we went to our first show! When we got there, everyone was so welcoming under the overhang right outside the venue where everyone waited in line to get in. I guess they drink beers and liquor in the parking lot before the shows usually (big youngstecollege crowd), but they said it was kind of damp out I guess. All of these guys and girls (especially the guys, which I thought was cool because I know she's a spice queen if ya know what I mean haha (big confidence boost)) were saying hey to me and my girlfriend and greeting her and I with such open kindness! It was beautiful. It turns out that my girlfriend knew a bunch of the guys from Big Gigantic shows that she went to when she was in her "raver phase" prior to us meeting and they have a nickname for her in that circle. I guess it's Sugaree and I thought it was weird at first, but then they gave me a nickname...Custy! It was sweet and we both go by Sugaree and Custy and all the shows when we interact with the rest of the Flock (that's what they call themselves, pretty neat).Guess it's that "energy" right?! We've been to one show and we have nicknames! ***BTW, I FORGOT TO APOLOGIZE for not keeping up with the code on here and putting "ph" instead of f's on everything! A lot of our Goose friends have phish tattoos that say "Phamily" or "Phun", and they said that's a really good way to rep the colors and make some PHRIENDS by doing so. I think it's really neat and will probably get back to that on future posts, but it got really hard to keep up with on this long intro post and my fingers were getting tired. Anyways, sorry about that. I'll get my act together down the road I promise :)!
As I digress.
I have recently been listening to a TON of Phish! I have listened to almost three full shows in the last month and a half on the Live Phish app (took the gamble and got the cheap package, well worth it)!!!! I like a lot of it. I really like Sparkle, Farmhouse, Fuck Your Face, Waiting for So Long to Pee (I think it's funny they wrote a song about peeing, pretty neat lol, I know that's not what it's called obviously). It's been a ride with these guys to say the least. They're really fuckin' weird, but I think their chops are sound.
I came across one that sounded pretty good the other day and I've been wanting to post about it. Does anyone think this song is any good? I know you all are rather particular, and I tend to like it a bit, but my Goose friends told me that it's too "wholesome" and "pure" and that they think Goose actually shreds harder nowadays.
I still like this song though and think it's pretty good from what I can tell and I want your thoughts please:
The song is called Possum. I think it's a cool name for a song and it has some really funny lyrics if you haven't heard it!
The show was the Deer Creek (I heard this place is pretty cool and is the Capital of the Oxide farmers! Still wanna try some of that, but just a little, a little can't hurt, right?!) in Indiana and it was on 8/7/2021.
Please give it a listen if you have a moment. I would appreciate the feedback on whether or not the big-time phans would like a version of this song like this one. Please don't make fun of me if it's just meh lol.
Noblesville, IN - 8/7/21 - Possum
I may post some more of these for more feedback to see how I am progressing as a true PHAN in the phuture! I want to sharpen my swords to fight the crusty Wuhks in the Oxide Fields of Noblesville one day to pave the way to my musical PHREEDOM! Hooray! Whoo, I'm a little tired and am getting off track here.
Thank you all for reading and I look forward to seeing you in line at a Phish concert one day!
Is this 8/7/21 Possum "decent"?
​
- Your Phriend and Pal Jeph

Chapter 4: The Dew
We have a new cast member for this chapter! Her name is Molly, and let’s just say she’s the MVP.
It was almost noon when I woke up. Faaaaack! I scrambled to get dressed, slap on a little makeup, put my hair in purple pigtails, ask myself whether I was dolling myself up for FPB or for Axton... Yeah, that was a no-brainer. I engaged in basic some humaning (brushing teeth, applying deodorant, etc.), spritzed on some men’s cologne called Spicebomb (FPB really was kind of right about that), put on my new shoes, and dashed out the door. I looked at my phone to see if I had a missed call or an angry text from FPB. Nope. Good! He must have still been passed out.
I Ubered to FPB’s place to get my car, then I drove back to Sage’s house and parked on the side of the street. There were four Molly Maid vehicles in the driveway. I checked the door. It was unlocked. Was it possible that my absence might have gone unnoticed? As I entered the house, I could hear one of the professional cleaners yelling at Sage. I’ll call her Molly.
Molly: I’m charging you TRIPLE! I had to call in SIX extra girls. We clean up vomit, pee pee, poo poo, and your house smells like a distillery! You are nasty, nasty people!
I was damn near pissing myself laughing. One of the professional cleaners swooped past me, and I felt embarrassed to even be associated with these nasty, nasty people (even though all of them except for FPB had been super nice to me).
I found my way into the kitchen and accidentally interrupted Sage and Athena arguing over who was going to pay the cleaning bill. Sage was in favor of splitting it between the chummers, and Athena was in favor of sticking Mori with the bill since his nasty, nasty rules caused the nasty, nasty mess.
I cleared my throat so it didn’t seem like I was eavesdropping.
Athena: OP! Hey! Where have you been all morning?
Me: I ran home to get some sleep. The snoring was pretty loud...
Athena: I hear ya. We sleep in Sage’s bedroom, but Mori makes all the others sleep in the War Room or on the porch. You might be able to convince him to let you sleep in the guest room tonight?
Me: Isn’t it your house, Sage? I’ll play by your rules.
Sage: Yeah, but Mori’s in charge during Shadowrun weekends.
Damn, this really was starting to feel like a fucking cult. But I still found Mori hella amusing despite all his absurdities.
Me: Hey, guys? How much hell am I about to catch from FPB?
Sage: That would be... none. He’s still passed out in the backyard.
I made my way to the porch. I guess the cleaning crew hadn’t gotten there yet. There were toppled cups, empty liquor bottles, and several piles of puke on the porch; and the distinct scent of boozy pee clashed in an act of olfactory violence with the scent of stale vomit. I didn’t even want to take a single step outside. I was wearing my brand new shoes, after all! But the rest of my outfit was blissfully casual.
FPB’s absurdly formal clothes were draped over the hammock, and he was sprawled across a lawn chair in nothing but his black boxer briefs, snoring like a freight train.
Axton was sitting on a dry patch of the steps that led down to the yard, smoking a cigarette, and drinking what I hoped was coffee. Snorlax was passed out in the inflatable kiddie pool. And Mori was nowhere to be seen. Axton turned around and noticed me. Surely he didn’t remember trying to kiss me the night before. I mean, I kind of hoped that he did... but it would make my life a whole lot easier if he didn’t.
Axton: OP! Where did you run off to after you put us to bed?
Me: I went to sleep.
Axton: Where?
Me: Ummmm...
Axton: I won’t say anything to FPB, don’t worry.
I wanted to believe him. “I went home. I wanted to sleep in my own bed, and I wanted to have my car in case I get tired again. I seriously can’t keep up with you guys.”
Axton: That’s probably not anything to be ashamed of. Wanna come sit? Have a smoke?
I scanned the porch. “I’m not sure where it’s safe to step.”
Axton put his cig in the ashtray and stood up. “Combat boots to the rescue.”
He crossed the porch, picked me up, and carried me to the puke/pee/booze-free step. As he was putting me down his hand very deliberately grazed the length of my spine. Guess he remembered... I couldn’t seem to pull my hand off his shoulder, nor could I seem to take my eyes off his lips. But just then, FPB stirred. And he roared, “UNHAND MY GIRLFRIEND, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”
He tried to stand, but his tall, hungover ass just withered to the ground.
Me: Good morning! Don’t worry. He was just helping me protect my new shoes.
FPB: So help me, Pretty Boy. If you touch my girlfriend again, I WILL END YOU.
Axton: Just trying to be gentlemanly, buddy. You want some coffee?
FPB grunted.
Axton turned to me. “You want some, too?”
FPB: DO NOT SPEAK TO HER, YOU FUCKING SKIDMARK.
Me: I’m good. I’ll hit Mori up for some coke later on.
Axton laughed and headed to the kitchen.
FPB: YOU WILL NOT GET COKE FROM MORI. I WILL LITERALLY KILL HIS (expletive slur deleted) ASS IF HE GIVES YOU COKE.
Snorlax was stirring in the kiddie pool.
Snorlax: FPB... Chill, bro. Seriously. God damn. You’re gonna pop a vein in your forehead.
Okay, it’s finally time to pause and give you guys some background on my relationship with FPB. It might be mildly triggering for some, so apologies in advance.
He repulsed me at first. I thought he was a snob, I hated his beard, and his circus freak height intimidated me a little. But he managed to humanize himself. He feigned vulnerability. He was attentive and affectionate (at first). And when we finally went on a proper date, it was actually pretty romantic. Plus, he had cool Bioshock tattoos! I wouldn’t find out about his Shadowrun tramp stamp until a bit later.
And I felt like I was gaining some maturity by looking past the unsightly beard, the constantly furrowed brow, and the shocking amount of time he spent standing on the most random soapboxes one could possibly imagine. I’ll also shoehorn in the fact that he had been “dating” a possessive, obsessive legbeard and I found myself feeling like a white knight for helping him out of that annoying situationship.
FPB’s triumphant, and probably fabricated, stories of his past facilitated empathy. He had dropped out of college to join the Peace Corps. He once pulled over to save a child from a burning vehicle. He had been bullied in middle school for being the only boy in the Color Guard. Blah, blah, blah. It was mostly a load of bollocks, and I’ll save the ridiculous details for another story. But his displays of affection in the early stages of our cursed courtship seemed sincere, and I believed him when he said that my “being there for him” was helping him grow as a person. What a rube I was.
The emotional connection gradually ran deeper as a result of FPB’s exceptionally well-rehearsed vulnerability act, but it was hardly a romance novel. After several relatively normal “getting to know each other” months, I discovered that FPB had been notoriously promiscuous in the past. A lothario, through and through. Many women apparently knew all about the “ladies’ man maître D” in midtown Wellsprings who would go home with absolutely ANYONE.
And I soon figured out that he had not left his promiscuous past behind him... at all. But even if I hadn’t become aware of his reputation, I could often smell his sexual escapades once he felt confident enough to interact with me immediately after he’d gone muff diving. His beard stank like a turtle tank, with heavy top notes of body odor and microwaved fish, and undertones of stale urine, dingleberries, and sometimes a gentle waft of rotting tampon.
He’d also had to treat his foul flavor-saver for pubic lice on a few occasions. I know I mentioned his beard crabs earlier, but it bears repeating (if only for the cringe). I can’t even begin to explain how humiliating the state of his beard was for me. I take care of all manner of personal hygiene, and I’ve certainly never had CRABS. To be known as the girlfriend of such a nasty beardo must have caused at least a few people to reasonably assume that I had a crab-infested crotch and a serious case of junk funk. #notmyjunk
Hindsight tells me that I didn’t care about his philandering because I wasn’t in love with him. His company wasn’t particularly enjoyable since he spent most of our time together complaining about “losers” on the internet and lambasting the insufferable management at the restaurant where he worked. But he could carry on lengthy conversations about luxury fragrance, which was... harmless. Plus, I enjoyed the idea of having a “boyfriend” since I was approaching 30.
And FPB could convincing behave like the *perfect gentleman* on the rare occasions when we attended respectable social events together. So all of my friends thought I’d won the dating lottery by landing myself a quirky, intelligent, polite, and visually striking boyfriend. This dreadful dating experience tempts me to spout some unsolicited advice along the lines of, “Wait for the right *connection* with a person who makes your life more enjoyable, and don’t get hung up on your relationship status... YOU are enough.” But perhaps that’s something we all have to realize for ourselves.
Aside from the philandering, things ran pretty smoothly back when FPB was still keeping “the crazy” under wraps. His goblinization unfolded in tiny, almost imperceptible increments. And by the time he had become a full-blown possessive lunatic, every attempt to end things with him resulted in death threats, slander, vandalism, bomb threats, or false police reports. I could easily write an entire lengthy story about every disastrous breakup attempt. But they wouldn’t be amusing stories. At least this current story has moments that I can try to frame as humorous, largely thanks to the Shadowrun crew.
I suppose the most honest answer as to why I had given FPB chance after chance is that I had absolutely NO prior experience being emotionally close to severely mentally unstable people. I’m one of the lucky ones who has never suffered from mental illness aside from occasional situational depression and some mild body images issues when I was a teenage girl on the high school drill team. I grew up in a loving family. And the only other serious romantic relationship I’d had prior to FPB fell apart because we were just in different stages of life (he was quite a bit older), and we eventually found ourselves unable to relate to one another. Nothing horrifying.
FPB was much closer to my age, we had common interests, and he was a (seemingly) genuine gentleman at first. Our relationship was like Beauty and the Beast... in reverse. I’m not so much comparing myself to Belle as I’m comparing FPB to a kind-hearted prince who gradually transformed into a stomping, snarling, tantrum-throwing BEAST.
Any desire that I’d ever felt for him died from poon fume inhalation. And FPB was pitifully butt-hurt when I closed the cookie to him. And despite displaying no interest in showing affection towards me, despite having countless randos at whom he could wiggle his whisky wang, despite griping incessantly about my terrible personality, my wretched taste in music, and my annoying sense of humor, he refused to end the relationship.
But if I so much as spoke to another man, FPB would call the police and report him as a TCAP Story, vandalize his property (usually with poop and/or semen), stalk him relentlessly, or make a slanderous website, crudely photoshopping the poor guy’s face onto obscene images that he got off the deepest, dingiest, most dumpster-fiery recesses of the dark web. This “retaliation technique” would eventually get his ass incarcerated, but not until many, many unfortunate girlfriends later.
Everyone had always told me that, “Relationships are HARD.” Guys, gals, non-binary pals... if you ever feel the need to cough out this fetid tonsil stone of “wisdom,” please operationally define the word “HARD.” If a relationship feels like a prison sentence and you find yourself fearing for your safety or for the safety of your loved ones, that isn’t “hard.” That is coercive control. RUN. But never forget that running is often much, mucheasier said than done. There’s no shame in getting help from friends, family, and law enforcement.
​
So, where were we? Snorlax was telling FPB to chill out, Axton was going to get some coffee for the lanky, bearded ball of rage, and I was standing on the one clean step, hoping the cleaning crew would come outside and save us all.
FPB was flailing about, trying to achieve a sitting position. Snorlax seemed to have gone back to sleep. And Axton returned to the porch with a cup of coffee and a bottle of water. He made his way down to FPB.
FPB: You’d better stay far, FAR away from her for the remainder of the weekend.
Me: Funky, he’s helping your hungover ass. And he hasn’t been inappropriate towards me in any way.
(That was kind of a lie. But I suppose it all depends on what you consider “inappropriate.”)
FPB harumphed.
Me: I promise you that I’ll punch him in the face if he makes me uncomfortable. Otherwise, please let me get to know your friends. You said that was an important part of the weekend.
Axton sat down the hangover remedies next to FPB’s lawn chair.
Axton: You want some Advil?
FPB nodded, and Axton took the pills out of his pocket and handed them over. FPB washed the pills down, took a few sips of lukewarm coffee, and leaned back in the chair, groaning miserably.
I sat down on the clean step and lit up a cigarette. Axton left FPB to his own devices and approached me cautiously. I gestured for him to come sit next to me. Axton grinned sheepishly, took his cig out of the ashtray, and sat down on the step. I wanted to keep FPB under control, so I said under my breath, “We’d better sit about two feet apart.”
Axton and I both scooched away from one another, the ashtray serving as a buffer, and we continued to speak quietly so that FPB’s hungover groans would drown out our conversation.
Axton: Are you really gonna punch me?
Me: Are you gonna make me uncomfortable?
His grin faded a bit, “Have I made you uncomfortable? If I did, I’m so sorr...”
I made eye contact with him and held it for about 3 seconds longer than I would have held friendly eye contact and replied with my own sheepish grin, “Not at all.”
​
Snorlax was sitting up by that time and he seemed to be in a world of hurt as well.
Axton: Yo, Snor! You need some hangover helper, too?
Snorlax (groaning): Pleeeeeeease.
Axton got up to fetch Snorlax some coffee, water, and pills. Those combat boots were going to need to get hosed down before he went back inside. Especially with Molly and her pissed off crew still at the house.
In fact, I could hear Molly screeching at Sage again.
Molly: There’s more mess on the porch? What sort of mess? More poo poo? A lake of liquor? You people are ANIMALS. I’m never cleaning your house again!!!
Sage: Ummm... I think it’s just booze and pee. You should be able to just power wash it.
Axton: There’s a ton of puke out there, too.
Molly: Jesus, save us all.
Axton ran to Snorlax and delivered the hangover helper.
Axton: Dude! The maids are on their way, and they’re pissed off. We gotta disappear.
I put my cigarette out, stood up, and dashed over to FPB, who was still reclining in the lawn chair with a pained expression on his face.
Me: Funky? The maids are coming. We need to get out of here.
FPB: And go where?
Me: I don’t know! I’ve never done this before. I think Axton knows, but I’m afraid to talk to him.
FPB: HEY, FUCK-FACE. Where are we running off to?
Axton: Garage! Go around the side of the house.
Axton helped Snorlax stagger around to the garage, and FPB managed to wobble to his feet. As he was standing up, I noticed a whisky wee aroma and an extra dark patch of fabric near the crotch of his black underpants. While I guided him to the garage, I tried my darndest to keep his wet boxer briefs away from my clean shirt. His crotch was level with my mid-section, so I curved my body away from him and let him basically use my shoulders and arms as a walker. In the end, we all managed to enter the garage though the side door. It was dusty, musty and stuffy, but it was blissfully devoid of puke and pee. Well, aside from FPB’s underpants.
Sage must have anticipated that we’d take shelter from the angry maids in the garage because he came out from the house and opened the garage doors for us, letting in a nice breeze.
Sage: You guys good?
We all indicated the affirmative.
Sage: Excellent. Mori should be back from the liquor store pretty soon. And he’s picking up hangover food, too.
Snorlax: What’s he getting?
Sage: Taco Bell.
Seriously? Not only were they having to restock the booze, but they were also planning to chow down on Taco Bell to help with the hangovers? There was no way in hell that was going to help.
At any rate, FPB and Snorlax were chugging the remainder of their hangover helper and seemed to be gradually getting their sea legs back. Axton had apparently been awake a little longer than they had, so his hangover seemed to have passed. I’m just assuming this since I was forbidden to speak to him. And with the only two non-hungover people there forbidden to speak to one another, the garage was eerily silent.
We were all sitting on the dusty floor and FPB, still wearing nothing but wet boxer briefs, tried to pull me into his lap.
Me (getting up and crossing the room): HELL NO. You peed yourself. I’m not sitting in your lap until you go wash up and put on some clean underpants.
FPB: It’s not pee. It’s dew.
Axton: It’s piss, bro. I can smell it.
FPB (snarling): You shut your fuck-nugget mouth, Asshat.
Wow, Axton’s ability to exhibit no reaction at all to FPB’s venom was impressive. I might have to try that and see if it would work for me.
Snorlax: He’s right. It’s definitely pee. No shame, though. I wet my pants, too. I had to get up and change at like... 6 in the morning. It sucked.
FPB: OP, please get over yourself and come sit by me.
Me: No lap sitting.
FPB: Fine.
Me: Do you want me to go get your backpack so you can change?
“Chill out, Miss Uptight! We all wet our pants every weekend. It’s tradition,” he said as he wound his long arms around me from the side.
I felt like I was in a cage. I rolled my eyes, and I think Axton noticed my exasperated expression because I could see him snickering.
FPB: What’s funny, you DICK?
Axton composed himself, and Snorlax gallantly stepped up to save us.
Snorlax: He’s laughing cause I farted. Sorry.
Always a sucker for bathroom humor, I burst out laughing. Axton started laughing again, Snorlax started laughing, lifted a cheek and really did rip one this time. The butt wind even kicked up a little dust from the garage floor. That made all the reasonable people in the garage laugh even harder. But not FPB. No, he was fuming.
FPB: What the hell is really so fucking FUNNY? Someone fess up to me or I’m gonna start flaying you bitches.
Axton: Dude. For real. We’re laughing at a fart. (more laughter)
Snorlax (also laughing): Yeah, just the thought of Taco Bell gave me gas.
FPB’s fury just made it even funnier, and all of us were in stitches.
FPB: I know you’re all laughing at ME.
Yeah, I guess it did kind of start off that way. But by the time his rage was hitting the boiling point, we really were just behaving like overgrown children and laughing hysterically at a fart. And everything was ten times funnier because we had this “stick in the mud” sitting there getting outrageously offended by the laughter. You know the feeling, right? When you’re not supposed to laugh at something, it becomes even harder not to laugh? Or is that just me?
FPB: I’m getting dressed now. OP, come help me. You two jabronis can stay in here and laugh at each other’s farts.
Instead of heading to the hammock in the back yard where FPB’s clothes presumably remained, he entered the house through the garage door and headed straight for the guest room to retrieve his backpack. Good. Maybe he was at least going to put on some clean underpants.
But, no. He wasn’t. That would have taken away from the repulsive debauchery that his whizzy boxer briefs allowed him to revel in. He really needed to settle on a story. Was he such a wild, crazy party boy that he was too cool to care that he’d wet his pants? Or was he a pathetic drunk who’d passed out and managed to collect afternoon dew in the crotch of his boxer briefs (and nowhere else on his body)? We’ll never know. His Shadowrun tramp stamp was in full view as he bent down and grabbed his wallet from his black leather backpack. He then marched into the kitchen and told Sage, “Bring me a maid.”
Sage: Ummm... they’ve got their hands pretty full at the moment.
FPB produced a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet. “I want my clothes steam cleaned. And I’ll need them spritzed with perfume. Athena’s got some here, doesn’t she?”
Sage: Yeah... But you’re gonna have to ask HER if you want to use her perfume. And you’re gonna have to ask the cleaning crew to steam your clothes. They’re all pretty annoyed with me over the condition of the house. There’s a new head maid. I’m having to pay TRIPLE the normal cleaning fee, dude.
In my mind, the considerate action would have been to forego the steaming and offer the cash to Sage, since FPB’s sparkle vomit and spilled liquor definitely contributed to the mess. Instead, FPB exited through the front door, made his way around to the backyard, and began removing his clothes from the hammock. The maids shrieked. FPB ignored the shrieks, gathered his clothes, and sauntered back into the house. Once we were back indoors, we could hear Molly going over the bill with Sage.
FPB: AHEM. Madam, I need these clothes steam cleaned.
He thrust his suit and the hundred-dollar bill in her direction.
Molly: Excuse me??? We were hired to clean this disgusting house. You want your clothes steamed, go to the drycleaners.
She sniffed the air.
Molly: And go take a shower. You smell like a diaper.
I stepped in. “Hey. Sage? Do you mind if I steam FPB’s clothes in the guest bathroom?”
Sage: Fine by me.
I pulled FPB aside. “Give me your clothes. You peed in your sleep after you took you suit off right?”
FPB: IT’S DEW.
Me: It doesn’t matter. Your underwear’s wet and you need to put on a dry pair. In the meantime, I’ll go in the bathroom, hang your clothes up, get the room steamy from the shower, and then they’ll at least be a little less wrinkled. We used to do it all the time in college.
FPB: But those bitches have professional equipment. If they can steam carpet, they can steam a suit.
Me: I think it’s a different type of steamer.
FPB: Oh, you’re an expert on steamers?
Me: Not the Cleveland kind.
Damn it, Mori would have appreciated my attempt at an obvious dirty joke.
FPB harumphed, and I put the plan into action. I turned the shower on as hot as it would go, sifted through FPB’s suit components carefully to make sure his pants were dry. Fortunately, they were. I hung the clothes as close to the shower curtain as I could without getting them wet and sat down to try and enjoy the steam room and the solitude. Maybe it would make me feel refreshed? But the sweetness of the solitude wouldn’t last, as I could hear a conversation taking place just outside the door.
Sage: What the hell, man? Why are you guarding the bathroom door?
FPB: I don’t want any of you pervs trying to walk in on my girlfriend while she showers.
Sage: Okay... I think she’s just in there steaming your fancy clothes.
FPB: She might be taking a shower, too. NAKED. I have to protect her from the male gaze.
Sage: Well... I’ve got a girlfriend. Mori’s not here, and Snorlax and Axton are both stand-up dudes.
FPB: I don’t trust Axton. I caught him picking her up on the porch, and then he tried to TALK TO HER.
Sage: “Picking her up” as in the crap you pull at work all the time? Or literally “picking her up” so she didn’t step in puke?
FPB: Uh... he made some lame excuse.
Sage: So... Picking her up so she didn’t step in puke. What a jerk.
FPB: Right?!
Sage: Listen, man. The door locks. And she’s a grown woman. Leave her alone for five minutes, for fuck’s sake. And put on some clean underwear.
FPB: IT’S DEW.
When I couldn’t take the steam anymore, I turned off the shower, retrieved FPB clothes, which did look spiffier, and opened the door to inhale the fresh, cool air. Ahhh! And the lovely cleaning crew had managed to get rid of the “poopy-pee-puke-pizza” pungency.
Apparently, being lightly mocked by the “vice principal” had embarrassed FPB enough to make him go find something better to do. No one was outside the door at that moment. I gathered FPB’s clothes, carried them to the guest room, and laid them out on the bed.
Now to find my seething anger ball of a boyfriend. Best guess? He was back in the garage, yelling at Axton and Snorlax. So that’s where I checked first.
I entered the garage from the house, and found Sage, Athena, Axton, Snorlax, and Mori all sitting around enjoying some Taco Bell and drinking beer. No FPB.
Me: Hey, guys! Have any of you seen a tall, angry guy in wet boxer briefs?
Mori: He’s on the back porch. Said he had to call his work.
Ah, yes. “Work.” That meant he was texting one of his randos. Probably the one who showed up at Sage’s house late last night.
Me: Beer me?
They all answered with a validating chorus of “Hell yeah,” and, “Go girl!”
I grabbed a beer from the cooler and scanned the room for a place to sit. Axton stood up and led me over to his spot.
Axton: Hey, guys! Who am I?
And then he pulled me onto his lap, wrapped his arms around me and started shouting in a caveman voice, “MY GIRLFRIEND. MINE. NO TALKING TO HER. DON’T EVEN LOOK OR I’LL STAB YOU IN THE EYEBALL.”
Everyone, including me, found this incredibly funny. And I was pleased to see that the whole team was acknowledging FPB’s absurdly possessive behavior. Maybe if the people he respected most in this world called him out on his insane possessiveness, he would reflect? Yeah, let’s see how that goes...
I stayed in this far too comfortable position for a minute or so. Axton was more muscular than FPB and he wasn’t “circus-freak tall,” so his lap was a much better fit. But I knew that if FPB rounded the corner and caught me sitting in another guy’s lap, he’d flip. Especially since my position in Axton’s lap had happened purely to make a mockery out of FPB. I leaned into him for a few more seconds, then slid over into my own cold, hard, lonely space.
Guess I needed to do some reflecting, too... Not because I was finding myself attracted to a guy who wasn’t my boyfriend. My boyfriend was a psycho and I needed to reflect on why I hadn’t been able to find an exit strategy that didn’t lead to terroristic threats or stalking.
Mori: I think I’ll add a new punishment tonight. But only for FPB. If he glitches, he has to sit in my lap and let me paw all over him. See how he likes it.
Me: Be sure to get a raging boner and jab him in the hip with it.
I couldn’t tell if the laughing that ensued was because I’d made a crude joke to the perfect audience or because I had unintentionally “called” the inevitable.
Mori (in a deliberately creepy tone): Oh, that won’t be a problem.
We laughed again.
And then, all the fun was sucked from the garage. FPB entered from the driveway and demanded to know what was funny.
Sage: Mori’s cooking up new punishments.
FPB: That’s... terrifying.
Me: Hey, I put your clothes in the guest room if you want to get dressed.
FPB: M’kay. I’m getting a beer first.
He cracked open a beer and headed inside. As he towered in the doorway, he turned to me.
FPB: You coming?
Mori: You need your girlfriend to help you put your clothes on? Are you in kindergarten?
FPB: Eat a dick, Mori.
Mori: Sounds delicious.
FPB shuddered and trudged inside. He hadn’t made any more demands that I accompany him, so I let him go put on his big boy pants all by himself.
*end of Chapter 4
As always, thank you so, so much for reading!
Hope to see you back for The Lap of Luxury!

Hello. [My question is in large print below. The rest are my thoughts and concerns associated with my question.]
I'm not in a Church of Christ congregation, but I do agree for the most part with the CoC soteriology. Nevertheless, something bothers me about all modern churches.

What authority do congregations have to ordain their own ministers, overseers, preachers, evangelists, etc.???

The ordination process started with the apostles via laying of hands and prayer. For example, Paul ordained Timothy and Titus as evangelists to spread the gospel and ordain more ministers over other churches. While I'm reluctant to agree with the Ortho-Catholic Church on their "Holy Orders" and "Apostolic Succession", it does seem like some form of succession of authority would be necessary for the preservation of sound doctrine.
I would say that what all of Christianity has today is at best fragments of sound doctrine, and without apostles to bear witness to us what such sound doctrine is, at best, all we can say we have is theory and conjecture. I'm speaking mostly about eschatological issues, but these issues can have impact on how we are to conduct ourselves in our day-to-day lives.
To disclose my working theory: I believe the Body of Christ died with the foundation of the apostles. Sardis is evidence that a church can indeed be dead.
Jesus said to the Pharisees, "destroy this sanctuary and in three days I will raise it up."
Jesus was clearly talking about his physical body, but at the same time, the Church is also his Body and Sanctuary. If a thousand years are as a day to the Lord (2Pet 3:8), then what if the Church is meant to be dead for 3,000 years???
Denominationalism is quite literally the definition of heresy. If the Church is in incoherent pieces, with a fragmented doctrine, then how can it be said to be alive? I believe the elect are a scattered remnant, and any effort to revive the Church will ultimately fail, or at least quickly diffuse. Nevertheless, just as the Gates of Hades did not prevail over Jesus, neither will they prevail over his Church, but that does not mean the Church cannot die.
I would love to discuss this in more depth if anyone is willing to entertain such an understandably uncomfortable idea.
Thank you.

RepPage
My wishlist. Also keen for anything from the recent metroidviaida bundle (apart from bloodstained).
Have:
112 Operator
911 Operator
911 Operator - Special Resources DLC
All-Star Fruit Racing - Yogscast Car DLC
Amnesia: Rebirth
Amnesia: The Dark Descent + Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs
Backbone
Battlerite - YogYog Bear Mount DLC
Biomutant
Book of Demons
Broken Age
Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons
Calico
Calico - Special Edition Content
Caveblazers - Arena Mode DLC
Dear Esther: Landmark Edition
Demon Turf
Drawful 2
Drawful 2
Edge of Eternity
Endless Space 2
Evan's Remains
Golden Light
Gunpoint
Gunpoint
Hack 'n' Slash
Jurassic World Evolution 2
Kerbal Space Program
Kerbal Space Program
Killing Floor
Lust from Beyond - M Edition
Main Assembly
Metro Exodus
Mirage: Arcane Warfare
MirrorMoon EP
Monaco
Monaco
Monster Crown
Orbital Racer
PGA Tour 2K21
Psychonauts
Quantum Break
Remnants of Naezith
Rogue Lords
Rustler
Ryse: Son of Rome
SUPERHOT
Sanctum 2
Skullgirls 2nd Encore
Soulblight
Space Crew: Legendary Edition
Stacking
Strange Brigade
Stygian: Reign of the Old Ones
Sunlight
System Shock Enhanced Edition
Tales from Candlekeep: Tomb of Annihilation - Asharra’s Diplomat Pack
Tales from Candlekeep: Tomb of Annihilation - Birdsong’s Entertainer Pack
Tales from Candlekeep: Tomb of Annihilation - Dragonbait’s Dungeoneer Pack
Tales from Candlekeep: Tomb of Annihilation - Tales of Artus Cimber’s Explorer Pack
The Amazing American Circus
The Inner World
This War of Mine
Ticket to Ride
Toy Odyssey: The Lost and Found
Wargroove
West of Dead
X-Morph: Defense Complete Pack
XCOM 2
Zombie Driver HD

RepPage
My wishlist. Also keen for anything from the recent metroidviaida bundle (apart from bloodstained).
Have:
112 Operator
911 Operator
911 Operator - Special Resources DLC
All-Star Fruit Racing - Yogscast Car DLC
Amnesia: Rebirth
Amnesia: The Dark Descent + Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs
Backbone
Battlerite - YogYog Bear Mount DLC
Biomutant
Book of Demons
Broken Age
Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons
Calico
Calico - Special Edition Content
Caveblazers - Arena Mode DLC
Dear Esther: Landmark Edition
Demon Turf
Drawful 2
Drawful 2
Edge of Eternity
Endless Space 2
Evan's Remains
Golden Light
Gunpoint
Gunpoint
Hack 'n' Slash
Jurassic World Evolution 2
Kerbal Space Program
Kerbal Space Program
Killing Floor
Lust from Beyond - M Edition
Main Assembly
Metro Exodus
Mirage: Arcane Warfare
MirrorMoon EP
Monaco
Monaco
Monster Crown
Orbital Racer
PGA Tour 2K21
Psychonauts
Quantum Break
Remnants of Naezith
Rogue Lords
Rustler
Ryse: Son of Rome
SUPERHOT
Sanctum 2
Skullgirls 2nd Encore
Soulblight
Space Crew: Legendary Edition
Stacking
Strange Brigade
Stygian: Reign of the Old Ones
Sunlight
System Shock Enhanced Edition
Tales from Candlekeep: Tomb of Annihilation - Asharra’s Diplomat Pack
Tales from Candlekeep: Tomb of Annihilation - Birdsong’s Entertainer Pack
Tales from Candlekeep: Tomb of Annihilation - Dragonbait’s Dungeoneer Pack
Tales from Candlekeep: Tomb of Annihilation - Tales of Artus Cimber’s Explorer Pack
The Amazing American Circus
The Inner World
This War of Mine
Ticket to Ride
Toy Odyssey: The Lost and Found
Wargroove
West of Dead
X-Morph: Defense Complete Pack
XCOM 2
Zombie Driver HD

Debbie was working at Thorncrest Ford in August 1978 and went to lunch with 3 work friends the afternoon before she vanished. Over lunch, the friends (two male & one female) decided they’d go out together to the disco after work. They ended up at the Camelot Steak House & Tavern because the other two venues they tried had long line ups to enter.
Various news reports from the day tell us that the two couples (it was a double date) were there until the place closed and then Pam was driven home in Deb’s car (a Cordoba) by Deb and the two men.
After dropping Pam off, Debbie took the two men to one of their houses in Mississauga. Apparently one man went to play pool in another room for two hours and the other man spent that time talking with Debbie. She became quite tired but declined to spend the night.
She then was said to have driven herself home to her apt on Bathurst in Toronto which she shared with her mother. She appeared to have parked in her usual spot and locked the car then walked to and entered the building from a side door using her key.
It’s here that a struggle seems to have occurred at around 5:30am. Parts of her gold chain with hair attached were found inside the narrow hallway near the side door and outside. Buttons from her shirt were found as well. Her purse with wallet and keys and panties was also later found in a the hallway.
Unfortunately, a neighbour who was also a tenant found the purse before police did and he stole some things from it before putting the purse with the panties inside it by Debbie’s apt door.
Police found neighbours heard screams but they were then thought to have come from party guests at a party still going on in another apt at that time.
No one realized she was missing until around 11am when her sister went to get the mail or the paper. Police were called but Debbie couldn’t be found until 3 months later when she was found along the side of the road near Sunderland, Ont by a teen boy on a hike who spotted her leg and arm sticking out. She was found wearing a bra, with halter top around her neck. We weren’t told if she had bottoms or panties on or even shoes.
Questions - if she drove the friends to the venue or even just home from the venue, how did the second man who didn’t live with the first man (that we know of) get home and when did he do so? - the panties found in the purse - did the neighbor pack them in there or were they found there? - why didn’t the neighbor call police. Or alert the family to the scene he encountered in the hallway shortly after the abduction was said to have happened? - why was she taken and left in Sunderland? It’s about 45m from the apt to where she was found. Sunrise was 6:12am that morning. - could one of the party guests at the apt have encountered her and made a rash decision to abduct her? - did her dare drive her home and then a struggle happened with her and someone else? Or did it happen after she got herself home? - any chance she never made it home and the scene was staged? - how did the abductor get her all the way to where she was found without her becoming aggressive or hard to control in the car on a 45m drive? - was she killed where she was found or transported while dead already?
Read more here:
https://beta.ctvnews.ca/national/canada/2018/11/9/1_4170351.amp.html

I posted my story below that I have posted in three other places, it is a lot of or attention because I feel the need for social support, sorry if the post is offensive in anyway I know it can be annoying when people talk in group high still, or are bragadcious about use, but I don't mean to glorify it and I really would like help from this community if there is any for me.
This last relapse has hit the hardest because I was doing so well just smoking weed and drinking beer...everyday, but I eventually got a random call from a stranger that asked if I partied and I ate a press pill that killed me. Hadn't had any opiates for 8 months before this last stretch.
I love you, let's just start by getting that into of the way...(I'm currently not sober)...but I want to feel that way when I am completely sober, and I know I am going to have a hard time readying any of this advice once my buzz wears off
( trying to quit opiates and weed and booze, for the Nth time. 1mo old baby, 4 other kids that have suffered from me being a selfish about my use, but are okay besides not knowing or having a real dad that hasnt been high most if not all of their poor little lives.i have gone to rehab, I am trying to get therapy and I understand that being addicted this long off and on means that nothing really does anything to make me feel satisfied to not seek drugs. Terrible impulse control and luckiest person aliveI just died from a pressed pill about a week ago, not my first time EMTs have had to narcan me in the past 5 years...3 times. Please help!!! I LOVE my children and my current girlfriend is truly a Saint and loves and will support me and has supported me, she is clean completely and without problem, this is the last time I am sure...for both of us.
She doesn't deserve me to fail again. I really don't think she enjoyed saying she wishes I stayed dead, and I don't feel like I wish I did either Instead of having full joy bursting every time I feel when I hold my daughter now or hang out with my son. Not that it isnt extremely lovely, and my family isn't amazing. They ARE enough for their part, I am not fulfilling my part as a man and a father to grow the fuck up right now, and it's because I'm being selfish and I am waiting for help and not helping myself.
Well TL:DR I am going to throw out my weed tomorrow. I quit beer 4 days ago now???maybe one less? But I am still taking prescription pain meds (the ones that killed me still to I just don't want to admit it) but small small amounts until they are gone and then no more.
I keep wanting to do this for myself and family and would be grateful for any love and support anyone in anyway.

I’m looking to spend about $1,800 USD on a pair of headphones and get the best quality I can. I can stretch a little bit if it would mean a significant improvement. Right now I’m wondering whether it’s worth the increase in price to go with the ZMF VC’s over the Sennheiser HD 800S? I’m also open to other suggestions based on my preferences. I understand the HD 800S are open back and the VC are closed back and that’s a large difference right there, but I don’t have any preference between open or closed back at the moment. I’ll be pretty much only using them at home plugged into a NAD M33. I am a little hard on gear, but will try to take care of these headphones since I don’t plan on really taking them out of the house.
I’m looking for a tonally balanced pair of headphones, although to be honest, I’m new to the game and don’t really know too much. My current headphones are Sony MDR-V6’s and I do enjoy them a lot. My speakers are Bowers & Wilkins 700 S3’s and I really love their sound. I enjoy bass, but I’d prefer tonally balanced to bass-heavy. I’m in it for the pure balanced sound.
My preferred music genre’s are classic rock, indie rock, jazz, psychedelic, R & B, oldies, Motown, rap, EDM, Brazilian MPB, and classical. My preferences are pretty varied, so that’s why I’m leaning toward a tonally balanced. I’ve been listening to a lot of live Grateful Dead and other classic rock recently, but just about anything except country will be listened to on these. Your help is much appreciated.

This is an idea I've had for a long time so I wanted to share it.
As you can probably guess from the title that this will be a story set in the near future of the current timeline, about 20 years or so after Midoriya and the others defeat Shigaraki and All for One. This story will focus on a new group of students all fighting for their own reasons and trying to become heroes.
My story will have one central character as its focus but will venture into the lives of every character I create. I plan to have the original heroes make several appearances but have the teachers be original heroes I create as well.
Now, each post I make from here on out will be one of the students that will be in my new class 1-A.
But first, a little background.
Story: Twenty years have passed since the defeat of the deadly League of Villains, Shigaraki, and the legendary All for One. The Heroes who faced these threats have now gone on to not only graduate from UA but have also become heroes in their own right. Midoriya Izuku, now known as the Pro Hero Deku, has accepted his legacy as the last holder of One for All and takes his mentor All Might's place as the new Number One Hero along with his friends becoming established heroes in their own right.
Deku found the love of his life in his wife Ochaco, Todoroki has taken over his father's agency, Bakugo stays alongside Deku as the Number two hero and even found a wife for himself, Iida has successfully fallen into his role as Ingenium, and the other members of Class 1-A, 1-B, the support group, and business classes have all become successful heroes.
Now it's a new day, a new year, and a new group of young hopefuls try their hardest at becoming the heroes of tomorrow. This is their story.
Class 1-A: Seat 1
Dante Kazama
Age: 16
Appearance: Dark brown skin, almond-shaped silver-gray eyes, black hair tied into cornrows, muscular build, black tattoos wrapping around his right arm and shoulder.
Clothing: Black jeans, short-sleeved dark blue shirt, black vest, dark brown boots, a blue and gold beaded necklace around his neck, and leather wristbands on both wrists.
Personality: Strong-willed, kind, supportive, loving, family-oriented, determined, dedicated, loyal, and smart.
Quirk: Windstorm. Dante's Quirk allows him to manipulate and generate intense silver wind around him in a variety of ways. Whenever he uses his Quirk the wind around him becomes silver and his eyes glow. Dante uses his Quirk in a number of ways, such as using it to levitate himself off the ground, ride the wind like a scooter, fire off blasts of condensed wind, summon blades of wind that can slice through concrete, and even levitate small objects into the air. When Dante concentrates, he can even shape his wind into different forms such as weapons and animals.
Quirk Drawbacks: Dante is only able to manipulate the wind in a certain vicinity around him and can only perform well when he has a constant stream of oxygen flowing into his body. If his airway is blocked in any way and he can't send oxygen throughout his body then his Quirk will be weaker. He is also weak to fire attacks.
Quirk Supermoves:
Cyclone Bow: Dante creates a silver bow in front of him along with various wind arrows trhat he uses to fire at different targets.
Cyclone Spear: Dante summons a long wind spear that he can either use for close combat or launch from a distance.
Blade Rain: Dante summons wind around him and shapes into several small blades that he rains down on his target.
Wild Wolf Windstorm: Dante creates an entire pack of wolves around him that he can uses to attack or track.
Falcon Tornado: Dante creates numerous falcons out of wind that he uses to circle and entrap his target before dive bombing them.
Howling Wind Dragon: Dante creates an Asian Lung Dragon and has it circle around him before he launches it at his target.
Hero Name: The Silver Wind Hero: Fujin
Hero Costume: Dark green pants trimmed with silver, wind-like designs, black boots that have vents on the bottom which aid Dante in his mobility, short-sleeved black and dark green shirt with the image of a face-up tornado over his chest, a sleevless black and silver hoodie, silver forearm protectors, black fingerless gloves, silver belt holding up black and green waist armor, green eye mask, and a set of wind bearers he holds on his waist which help Dante focus and harden the wind around him so he can create wind weapons a lot easier.
Background: Dante and his family moved to Musutafu to get away from a toxic enviornment they were surrounded in back in their home town in Louisiana. After they moved to the country, Dante's parents opened up a small cafe with a conbini attached to it. It wasn't a luxurious life by any means but Dante and his family lived happily and safely, away from the hardships and dangers they were surrounded by back in the States. One day during a typical night for the family, a group of robbers broek into the conbini and held Dante's mother at gunpoint. Just as they were about to do something horrendous to the woman, Dante sprung into action and took the robbers down. After seeing the kinds of danger that the people he cares about could be in, even in a new country, Dante began to train to become a hero. Following after the great heroes that saved the country twenty years ago, Dante plans to become just like them and save others that need it.

I am not the OP. Original post is by u/Ad-West-7 in offmychest
TW: Mental illness, self-harm, references to suicide, physical violence, alcohol + drug abuse
Mood Spoiler: Still very sad
Note: This is a follow-up to my previous BORU about this, which can be found here. The newest update is the second one, if you want to skip to it.
~~~
Original - May 9, 2023
My girlfriend had a meltdown and fell asleep on my couch
Last night my (25M) girlfriend (27F) came over to drop off a package that was sent to her house instead of mine. She’s been struggling with depression recently and for the last two weeks she has not been acting herself at all. It seemed like she had not slept in days and her usual high energy self was not there. I asked her if she was okay numerous times but she kept pushing me away and gave one sentence answers about how she is fine and I didn’t need to worry. I know she has a history with suicide but that was when she was a teenager and she has not thought of taking her life since she was 16.
When she came over she was in really bad shape. Her hair was messy and there were bags under her eyes. There were some cuts on her arm that looked like self harm and one of them was bleeding. Her voice was groggy and she was extremely quiet. She came into my apartment, put the package on the kitchen counter, said goodbye, and tried to leave immediately. She thanked me for being a good boyfriend which caught my attention. I felt a sense of doom so I stepped in front of the door and told her to stay for the night. She told me to move but I said she was not in a good condition to drive and something bad might happen.
Suddenly she hit me in the chest and said she wants something bad to happen. She broke down in tears and cried about how stressed out and unappreciated she felt. She talked about how she was the perfect student and went to Berkeley like her parents wanted and became a nurse but they never showed any support for her career. She gets pushed aside and hates how all the attention goes to her sister and she feels unnoticed. She cried about how stressful work has been and how understaffed her hospital is. She had not slept for 37 hours and tried to go to bed a couple hours earlier but couldn’t fall asleep. She hates her body and how much she struggles with maintaining her weight. I picked her up and brought her to the couch and she continued crying and told me she thought about crashing her car multiple times on the way to my apartment and I would be better off with her being dead. She finished off by saying she doesn’t feel human and how difficult it is to get out of bed then fell asleep in the middle of crying. That all happened in a span of about 10 minutes.
I laid her down on the couch and put a pillow under her head. I stopped the bleeding on her arm and put some bandages on the wound after I cleaned it. I put a blanket over her and stroked her hair for a while. I started crying watching her sleep. I knew she was going through a rough time but I did not know how bad it was. I got a blanket and pillow and slept in front of the couch in case she woke up.
It’s 10am right now and she’s still sleeping. She’s been asleep for 14 hours and has not moved. I don’t know what condition she’s going to be in when she wakes up but I hope she is calm and open to talk about getting help.
Edit: Thank you for the replies. She woke up a couple hours ago after sleeping for 16 hours and she explained everything. She was at work two days ago and a elderly patient yelled at her and shoved her. She reached her breaking point and when she got home she threw out her antidepressants (she gets a refill on Thursday) and went into a manic episode. She went to work yesterday without sleep but walked out an hour into her shift and relapsed into self harming. She decided she was going to drive into a tree but wanted to see me one last time so she dropped off the package to do so. Thankfully I saw the signs and stopped her and she had her breakdown. She asked if she could stay with me for a couple of days so we drove to her apartment to get some things and she played music and sang her heart out. She wanted Wingstop so I stopped to order her something and she ran to a grocery store nearby while I was in line and got her favorite ice cream. We drove back to my apartment and ate and she is currently taking a shower. When she gets out and dries off I’m going to sit down with her and talk about what she wants to do regarding her job. I think she’s going to quit tbh. I saw a comment asking me to call out for her but I think she’s going to call out entirely. She seems BURNT OUT. I’m also going to bring up idea of her talking to a therapist again. Thank you for listening to my ramble lol. Your support means a lot to me.
~~~
First Update - May 13, 2023
My girlfriend showed up to my work drunk and high
A couple days ago I posted about how my girlfriend was in the middle of a mental crisis and fell asleep on my couch for half the day. She took a mental health leave from her job and found a therapist this morning who she says will begin to see her next week. She got her medication refills on Thursday and has been trying to relax but when I came home later that day she was not there. I texted her and she said she was out with friends and would be back soon. She came back a couple hours later with a brown bag but did not tell me what it was. She went into my bedroom to hide it and told me not to open it. I was a little concerned but decided not to push it.
It turns out she was hiding cocaine in the bag. I am a firefighter and I worked today and the next two days and tonight she showed up at my station drunk and high out of her mind. She knocked on the door and my Lieutenant opened it and I immediately recognized her drunk voice. She stumbled in asking where I was and started crying when she saw me. My Lieutenant told me to take her home so I guided her to the car and drove her back to my apartment. She started yelling about her job out of nowhere then fell asleep. When I reached my apartment I carried her up the stairs and sat her down on the couch. There were wine bottles and a line of cocaine on my kitchen counter. I called the station and said I would be back in an hour and cleaned up the kitchen and made sure she was not at risk of overdosing.
I have never been more mad in my life. I am okay with alcohol in my apartment but any kind of drugs is unacceptable. My father was a drug addict so drugs are forbidden from my apartment and my girlfriend knows this. I am upset about that but showing up inebriated and high at my job IN FRONT of my coworkers is even more unacceptable. I have been trying my hardest to put myself in a position to move up a rank and now I am the guy who had to drive his drunk girlfriend home. How did she even get to the station in the first place. I hope it was an Uber or something.
I love my girlfriend with all my heart but she needs to find serious professional help. I have been able to weather her manic episodes but this incident is something I am not going to be able to let go quickly. I know she has mental health problems and it’s something I have to accept to be with her but she is not taking her health seriously and it’s affecting her life and it’s starting to affect my life. She said she was going to admit herself to a psychiatric hospital on Thursday but it’s Saturday morning and she’s in my apartment passed out on my couch. I love my girlfriend. I really do. The past four years with her have been amazing but she keeps getting worse and it’s getting harder to help her. I watched my mother ruin her life trying to fix my father and I don’t want to end up on the same path as her. At some point I have to draw a line.
Update: She took herself to the hospital and admitted herself. She sent me a picture of the sign in sheet and apologized for her behavior. I don’t feel anything at this point. I get a break from her for a while so that’s nice. I might break up with her.
~~~
***NEW UPDATE**\*
Second Update - May 27, 2023
My girlfriend broke up with me through a letter and I miss her
My girlfriend was released from the psych ward yesterday and decided to break up with me for a while. She suffered a massive mental health crisis a couple of weeks ago and ended up taking a mental health leave from her job. She showed up at my work drunk and high on cocaine and I had to take her home. She admitted herself to the hospital the next day and stayed for two weeks before she was released.
Last night she knocked on my door before running back to her car. She left a box with all my things from her apartment and a letter attached to the box. In the letter, she said she needs to take a break from our relationship so she can take care of her mental health. She is in an extremely unstable condition and is receiving treatment for depression and suicidal ideation. She does not feel safe being around anyone at the moment and does not trust herself to make logical decisions around people. She is taking her medication and no longer feels like the world is ending but she is going back to the hospital to receive assistance with her depression. She is also going to start eating full meals again and try put on weight.
The next three pages of the letter were filled with her expressing her love for me and apologizing for her behavior. Because she knows I do not want drugs anywhere near my apartment she asked one of her coworkers about a person they know who sells cocaine and she bought a gram. She bought it in a brown bag along with some weed and hoped I would look at it and break up with her. When I didn’t she decided to sniff the cocaine and put a line on the kitchen table. She bought 10 bottles of wine and drank two of them and scattered the bottles around the apartment before taking an Uber to my job. Because I was the only thing that was stopping her from jumping off a bridge she hoped that I would get mad when I saw her walking into the fire station wasted and the state of my apartment when I brought her back and break up with her. Despite my anger, I did not break up with her and she ultimately decided to check herself into the hospital. She dedicated one page to apologizing for her actions that morning and all the things she did before because of her mental health. She doesn’t deserve a patient boyfriend like me who has the biggest heart in the world and she is afraid of corrupting me. She told me to find a woman who does not have the same problems as her and treat that woman with the same respect I gave her. The last page was her telling me how grateful she was to have me as a boyfriend and she could never repay me for the five years of love I gave her. She does not know when she’s going to feel ready to be in my presence again and told me not to come to her house to talk to me. She also drew a portrait of me while she was in the hospital and attached it to the letter.
I started crying in a way I haven’t since I was a kid. I knew what I was getting into when I met her and I never held her mental health against her. She always told me what emotions she was feeling and it helped our relationship greatly. This is a very serious situation and I am glad she recognized she needs professional support instead of trying to deal with it all by herself. She’s had episodes before but nothing like this. I miss her. I miss her so much. My apartment has been quiet for the past two weeks without her being loud and creating noise and I hate it. I miss holding her and rubbing her back while she fell asleep. I miss the streak of blonde hair in her black hair, her big, black, beautiful eyes, and how she always smelled like lavender. I miss cooking for her and making dinner so she had something to eat after a shift. I miss the smells of whatever recipe she was attempting to replicate from Pinterest. I miss the video of Daniel Craig saying “ladies and gentlemen, the weekend” she would send me every Friday after 5pm. I miss her chicken katsu and spam musubi and her cooking. She made two containers of katsu and curry and put them in my refrigerator before she started her cocaine plan and every bite I took made me miss her more. I miss exercising and doing ab workouts with her. I miss trying new hiking trails with her. I miss watching whatever dumb reality tv show she was obsessed with every two months and her asking a million questions every time she watched a sporting event with me. She was the love of my life and my life feels incomplete without her. I told my mom and younger sister we were taking a break and both of them said she feels like a member of our family. I miss her. The last four years have been the happiest times of my life and now all I feel is numbness and sadness. Whenever we had disagreements they never lasted more than two days and we apologized if one of us said something mean. She was the place I called home and the only person I feel safe confiding in and now she’s gone for I don’t know how long. I want to be right by her side giving her a hug and telling her how strong and beautiful she is but I can’t. I know she’s serious about improving her mental health and she’s making an effort to get her so that makes me feel a sense of peace. I hope she is able to find a sense of calmness in her mind. I collected all her things and dropped them off at her house this afternoon then got on the highway and just keep driving for an hour. No music or anything. Just the sound of cars and my thoughts. She deserves to be happy and feel like she wants to live. It hurts to live without her.
Edit: She has never done drugs before. This was the first time she ever bought or did drugs.
~~~
I was really sad to see this update, but perhaps it's for the best while she addresses her mental health. I wish them the best.
Reminder - I am NOT the original poster. Don't forget that commenting on the original posts is not allowed.

So, it has long been my policy to tend to wounded raiders, and then release them back to their factions once they have healed (unless they have good stats and I try to recruit them, or they're Empire in which case I steal their gear and then run them through with a knife).
And just now, something happened that just compels me to novelize the sheer stupidity of some of these prisoners.
Anzu 'Taniguchi' Tadeka gently nudged the man forward as they stepped outside of the fortifications of the Bunny Burrow. He was one of six survivors of a failed raid on their little slice of the Rim. Were it up to her, she would have run them through with her blade the moment they dared attack. A thought, a memory flitted through her thoughts.
She once did the same as these people, attacking what was then a little cottage nestled into the valley at the base of Mount Ededla. Yet despite her transgressions, the twins, Vania and Elias, saw fit to give her a second chance, her and all of her sisters that attacked them that day. All of them survived. All of them were nursed back to health. All of them were released and free to return home. But not Taniguchi. Something then stirred in her heart. Were it anyone else, she and her sisters would be dead. But instead, she and her sisters were well and alive, and with nary a complaint nor grievance from their caretakers. Perhaps that is why the kurin was compelled to stay her blade. To show the same kindness she was shown.
The last two prisoners were well on their way to fully healing their wounds, and with a sentimental spritely step, she made her way to the kitchen to grab meals for them before they too were released. She spotted Vania, or rather the tall furry stalks atop her head that were her ears, immediately as she entered the room, the smell of fresh stew wafting past her nostrils. Taniguchi opened her mouth to greet her, but the bunny girl was quicker.
"Heya! Is that Tanny I hear? You're just in time to get a fresh serving of stew!" She could hear Vania hefting a pot and setting it down on another surface with a heave and a huff. "Finally got to use that bear meat I've had my eye on. And I got a good mix of celery, corn, and carrot in there too. Want some?"
Vania peaked around the corner, beaming at her, and Taniguchi was more than happy to return the smile. "Sure! And a bowl for our last two guests, before we let them go on their way."
The bunny girl gave the kurin a thumbs up before she disappeared into the kitchen again to the clattering of utensils and other dining implements. A minute later, the doors to the kitchen flew open, Vania standing behind them proudly with two bowls of hot stew on a serving tray. "Order up!"
Taniguchi couldn't help but chuckle as she took the tray from her, carefully adjusting her grip for comfort and ease before heading off. "Thanks Vania! Keep mine hot for me alright?"
She hummed to herself while she walked to the prisoner quarters. It was by no means a luxurious accommodation, but at the very least, anyone under their care would at least have warm beds and plenty of reading material to pass the time. As she approached the door to their quarters however, she heard an odd, striking, pitched sound.
"Hello? Is everything alright in there?" Taniguchi pressed her ear into the door when it suddenly flew open. The last two prisoners, two middle-aged men, were up from their beds. One was against the opposite wall, hand gripping a tiny pickaxe that was embedded in the wall. The other was right on the other side of the door. Taniguchi yelped in surprise, bowls of stew slipping from her grasp and clattering to the floor.
"Get out of my way you stupid bitch!" The man laid a hand on her, attempting to shove her out of the way. Unfortunately for him, Taniguchi's combat instinct kicked in.
In a single swift motion, she drew her wraith blade and severed his left arm. He fell to the ground, arm spewing blood profusely as he howled in agony. The second prisoner yanked the pickaxe from the wall, and turned on her, shouting obscenities. His clumsy movements were no match however, as she glided to the side.
With a flick of her wrist, she severed his right arm, pickaxe clattering to the ground mere moments later. Another swipe of her blade, and took his left arm as well, the man finally joining his comrade on the ground, screaming on hollering in a pool of their own blood.
With an exasperated groan, she sheathed her blade, grabbed both of her 'guests', and tossed them onto their beds. She left the room grumbling. She was still grumbling when she returned with medical supplies, and still so while she was bandaging the severed stumps of their arms.
Taniguchi was annoyed. No, furious. No, betrayed. Her blood boiled, righteous fury festering in her mind. "You stupid fucks!" She yanked the bandage tight, with no regard for the pain her patient may have felt. Reaching down, she picked up one of the severed arms, pointing furiously at him with it. "All you had to do was wait a few more hours! Let the bruises heal, get a hot bowl of stew, and go home!"
She threw the arm at his face, picked up his other severed arm, and continued to shake it at him. "But nooooo! You had to try to escape on your own terms like the big men you are huh!? If you had just been good little boys, you'd still have your fucking arms! Stupid fuck!"
The other prisoner meekly raised his remaining arm. "A-Ah'm sorry mi-"
Taniguchi threw the arm at him too.
A brief conversation with Vania and Elias had settled matters with their last two prisoners. They, unfortunately, still did not have the capacity to manufacture prosthetics, and since the two prisoners had no other outstanding injuries, there was nothing else left to do but send them on their way.
As Taniguchi shoved two in front of her and into the wilderness outside of the Burrow, one of them turned back. "Hey um... considerin'... y'know, y'all wouldn't mind escorting us back home would you?"
The kurin drew her wraith blade. "Get the fuck out."

This is the fourth in a four-part story.
---------------
He started looking for depressions in the sand, large areas where the land would dip from roofs, windows, or doorways. He grabbed at different dips in the ground, but each handful felt as dense as anywhere else. He slid a few times down a sand dune, which helped him get closer to reaching his goal, but his efforts led to several dead ends. He knew he was getting closer though. He kept locating other objects – small hand mirrors, combs, baby bottles, men’s sneakers, collared shirts, broken couch legs. Everything indicated that there was plenty of foot traffic. He continued descending down different paths until he could feel the hot pavement underneath, the end of a descent that felt like the lowest level of an inferno. At that bottom level, he began to dig through walls of sand around him, careful not to trap himself too deep. Unfortunately, that proved difficult as winds would engulf his position and flood his mouth and clothes with more and more particles. He felt the weight of earth around him, so he needed to act quickly to find something to save his life.
This can’t be the end.
What are we going to do?
How will I get out? How will we get out?
As he made one last effort, his left hand scraped against something small and rectangular with different edges jutting from it. He grabbed onto it and pulled, but it was stuck in sand and string. He thrusted his right hand to help, and he could feel the entanglement, knots of string tied to different points on this object. He fiddled with the strings, but pulling the strings caused more sand to fall around him, which started to fill his shoes and pile around his ankles. He was not going to give up.
Yes, I got one of the strings off. The sand collected up to his knees.
I just need to tug on it a little harder. More sand fell, now piled halfway up his thighs.
I’ve almost got it.
Sand accumulated at his waist, filling his pockets, and holding half of his body in place. He ignored it. He had a feeling that whatever he was grabbing was to bring his salvation. He pulled harder and harder, and his fingers fiddled more and more until the object was finally free.
Finally!
It was a walkie talkie used by security guards, with one percent of its battery power. He did not have a lot of time. He pulled his arms to the height of his shoulders; the sand having absorbed most of his body with more winds pressing down from above. He twisted knobs trying to find a channel that still worked. The feeds were full of static, but he kept trying different combinations until he could hear anything. He kept lifting the radio higher as more sand shifted onto him, and he began to understand that he might not survive. Finally, as the sand piled around him, burying most of his body, he found one working channel. His success was moot. His mouth and nose were covered with no chance to escape. All that remained was to hear the last message, cold and robotic, before his breathing ceased and everything went dark.
“Hello. We’re contacting you about your car’s service warranty…”

So I (21F) and my partner (44F) have been together for the last 4 years and when we first got together I was pretty much a bum,getting wasted off weed and alcahol everyday and to this day I'm very grateful for her and if it weren't for her I probably be dead in some gutter these are the things that none of my family know but me Anyways my family are nothing but dramatic narcissistics and can easily manipulate anyone against you but can deny it when being confronted I have 2 older annoying sisters that like to lie and always wanting something whenever they get themselves into trouble especially misbehaving like a child if they don't get there way i always try to reconnect and atleast try spend some time with them but they always starting fights I think I just cut them off I want to get married to my partner but I don't think I should invite my family as they are known to act rude when they're in public and I don't want to embarrass her or her son infront of there family amita?

So, today I went to my former highschool's pride event. I hung out for an hour and a half outside pissing off protesters with an umbrella and eventually went in so I didn't miss everything. And as soon as I got in? Bliss. I got a goodie bag and basically went trick-or-treating. I hit up every table, getting to know my local resources. Two different places were making button pins. People complimented my outfit (which is very sensory based. I like to fidget with my clothes and my pride skirt is absolutely perfect for this bc its long and stretchy and soft, and my rainbow butterfly wings are soft and silky on my arms and protect me from sunburn. The local library was making button pins and the person I talked to told me they really liked my shirt (which said 'neurodiversity is beautiful' with rainbow flowers) and they told me that they're autistic. I got excited and told them I'm also autistic. And they gave me the pre-printed designs for the button pins and I found one that has a rainbow over sunflowers that says "living on the spectrum" and its so pretty and small and cute and subtle and I almost freaked out seeing it.
I carried my pride build a bear axolotl with me (build a bears are my special interest) and people LOVED HIM SO MUCH. Pride is the one place I've NEVER gotten anything but sheer thrilled reactions to my build a bears. Someone asked me if they could pet him and what his name was. Someone at a booth yelled from about 10 feet away and went "OH MY GOD I LOVE THAT AXOLOTL SO MUCH CAN I PLEASE PLEASE TAKE A PICTURE OF HIM!??" and was clearly thrilled when I came over and posed him for a photo. When people engage with my special interest, especially other adults, it makes me absolutely THRILLED. I got dozens of free stickers. I got 5 mini pride flags and 2 tiny toothpick pride flags. I got a bunch of button pins. I got free lanyards and information for resources that are relevant to me now that I want to seek therapy to get formally diagnosed with gender dysphoria so I can seek gender-affirming care like top surgery. No one judges me for taking the he/him AND the she/her pronoun pins. No one looks at me weird for dressing silly. No one has any sense of judgement. When I'm at pride I feel I can unmask the most effectively the most safely. No one treats me weird for being autistic during pride.
Pride is filled with autistic joy for me.

34m
I love you, let's just start by getting that into of the way...(I'm currently not sober)...but I want to feel that way when I am completely sober, and I know I am going to have a hard time readying any of this advice once my buzz wears off
( trying to quit opiates and weed and booze, for the Nth time. 1mo old baby, 4 other kids that have suffered from me being a selfish about my use, but are okay besides not knowing or having a real dad that hasnt been high most if not all of their poor little lives.i have gone to rehab, I am trying to get therapy and I understand that being addicted this long off and on means that nothing really does anything to make me feel satisfied to not seek drugs. Terrible impulse control and luckiest person aliveI just died from a pressed pill about a week ago, not my first time EMTs have had to narcan me in the past 5 years...3 times. Please help!!! I LOVE my children and my current girlfriend is truly a Saint and loves and will support me and has supported me, she is clean completely and without problem, this is the last time I am sure...for both of us.
She doesn't deserve me to fail again. I really don't think she enjoyed saying she wishes I stayed dead, and I don't feel like I wish I did either Instead of having full joy bursting every time I feel when I hold my daughter now or hang out with my son. Not that it isnt extremely lovely, and my family isn't amazing. They ARE enough for their part, I am not fulfilling my part as a man and a father to grow the fuck up right now, and it's because I'm being selfish and I am waiting for help and not helping myself.
Well TL:DR I am going to throw out my weed tomorrow. I quit beer 4 days ago now???maybe one less? But I am still taking prescription pain meds (the ones that killed me still to I just don't want to admit it) but small small amounts until they are gone and then no more.
I keep wanting to do this for myself and family and would be grateful for any love and support anyone in anyway.

I spent my week off waiting for weed that never came. For the first three or four days and nights I just slept and cried when I needed to. I've still been thinking about Kyle a lot. I need to go visit his grave in Metairie. Maybe I can get someone else who knew him to come with me, as I haven't been to Metairie in years. I also went to the Kenneport or something nature preserve and there were tons of fungi and beautiful flowing plants with red berries. I don't know what they were but the flowers looked solanaceous. I didn't take any photos because I was being in the moment also alert like a deer bc you never know.
I am genuinely grateful for how well today went. It took six days but I finally started feeling better. I went to the library, finished my resume and went to goodwill and bought new shoes and clothes for summer. The only clothes I had were long sleeved dresses, cut offs and bdus, and various black shirts with holes in them. I like dressing like a bum because it lets people know that I don't care about their feelings. Sometimes that's not true or appropriate so you gotta buy clothes and make an effort. That's what normal people do so I did that.
I went out in person to pursue an indeed ad application and I think it went well. I walked right into the general manager and I think he is considering me for the front desk. Even though I've gotten really fat from MAT, people still like me because I have a nice attitude and giant boobs. I dressed nice in my new goodwill clothes and drove there in my used car and I was the happiest I've been in forever.
Hopefully they'll call me Monday and I'll be done with retail forevermore. I don't like how much it makes me hate my fellow person. I don't understand the customers who treat a retail establishment like a market south of the border. What the fuck is with all.the bartering and price demands and shit? I go into the store and I pay what they ask. I guess other people are raised not to have shame. That's a shame. It's a whole cycle of shame fueled by weekly pay which is like my new DOC. It's the greatest I wish every place offered it because I can always pay bills on time with less effort. Also it's one of the only new DOC choices that doesn't contain fentanyl (yet.)