Salty Sunday - Week of December 01, 2024

2024.12.01 05:00 AutoModerator Salty Sunday - Week of December 01, 2024

Welcome to the Weekly Vent Thread!
While salt is not allowed anywhere else on this subreddit, any and all opinions (including negative ones) about ships can go here! If you are easily offended, we recommend you turn back now. No one is forcing you to read/respond to comments on this thread.
Guidelines:

All other subreddit rules still apply.
Shipping fandom discussion is allowed here. However, personal attacks, naming other users, linking stuff as an example/reference for salt, brigading, and blanket negative statements (e.g. all shippers of X do/are Y) are still NOT allowed.
Do not downvote someone you disagree with unless they are breaking a rule! Everyone is entitled to their own opinions.
Please respect that not everyone is open to debating their salt.

Don't forget to stay hydrated and happy salting~
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2024.12.01 05:00 amorssecret625 Bibidibobi

🧙🪄
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2024.12.01 05:00 koschyboi How "intense" was MTHI for u?

Strangely, it didnt exactly knock my socks off. Strong? Yeah sure, but it's just like some of the other solid performers that didnt need to flaunt a high intensity tag. In fact to me quite a few are even stronger
Now im curious about the regular MH. Are they secretly the same thing? Or how much quieter can it get 🤔
submitted by koschyboi to bathandbodyworks [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 sharewithme Word of The Hour: veil

English: veil

something hung up, or spread out, to intercept the view, and hide an object
a membrane connecting the margin of the pileus of a mushroom with the stalk
a screen, usually of gauze, crape, or similar diaphnous material, to hide or protect the face

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Translations

Catalan: vel
Esperanto: vualo
French: voile
Galician: veo
German: der Schleier
Hindi: चुनरी
Italian: velo
Portuguese: véu
Romanian: voal
Spanish: velo
Swedish: slöja

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Thank you so much for being a member of our community!
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2024.12.01 05:00 StruggleComplex5682 Print failing

Im not even sure how to describe this, im new to 3d printing so i genuinely have no idea what im doing but if anyone needs any details i can give them
submitted by StruggleComplex5682 to FixMyPrint [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 d_bb_d A Half Empty Nest and The Future

Now that one of our kids has left for college (the other is living at home while they go to school in town), I've been thinking more about what life will be like when it's just me and my LL wife and our pets.
I'm in my early fifties and she'll be fifty next year. Her forties have come and gone without any hint of a resurgence of her libido. She takes meds for anxiety and I truly feel they have killed our sex life.
Any sexual/romantic playfulness on my part is met with exasperation and/or outright hostility. I can feel my own libido slowly ebbing, and I'm afraid once it's gone, I'll have so much resentment I won't want to be around her anymore.
We've been married for over 20 years. Sex was never plentiful as I wished it could have been, but we were at least normal in the sense that we got together often enough to prevent serious resentment. Over the last five or so years, she's become almost anti-sexual when it comes to me. She has a vibrator (which I bought for her in the vain hope it might cause some sort of awakening) which she uses occasionally - and then tells me about what a good time she had using it. She'll tell me I should take care of myself, but that if I watch porn it's not ok.
I consider myself to be a pretty selfless lover; when we were physical, she always came first. I never wanted to finish pleasuring her - she'd have to push me away. When it was my turn, her attitude would change to "let's get this over with". I still don't understand how someone can be so uncaring and callous toward their partner. There were times when we both were in a good mood and had a wonderful time, but the pattern of Her First Then Me Second (As Quickly As Possible) has been our routine for years.
Any suggestion of changing things up in the bedroom is met with derision and judgement. I've suggested all manner of kinky things, and she has zero interest. Her job is stressful and she's never in the mood unless she's had a day of rest. Friday night? Too tired, don't talk to me. Saturday morning? Ew, morning breath and besides I haven't had coffee yet. Saturday afternoon? No, I'm tired from my spin class/errands and I just want to relax. Saturday night? No, I'm going upstairs to do crosswords and derp on my phone. Sunday morning? No, see Saturday morning. Sunday afternoon? Maybe... assuming she's in the mood. And do I get the luxury of NOT being in the mood?
Meanwhile, I've been ready all week. After dinner mid-week? Why not? Before work randomly one morning? Why not? Can I cuddle you for a bit before work? No, I have to get ready. Am I talking too much after work? Probably, because she has to deal with so many people at work.
I am here. I am human. I don't deserve sex just because we're married, but I have needs. I am here, waiting. I just don't know how much longer.
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2024.12.01 05:00 Puzzled_Amphibian374 I’m like yes but the dogs locked me out and he’s like how does this happen?

submitted by Puzzled_Amphibian374 to Cutedogsreddit [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 ch_scorebot Sidebar Submission Sunday

Please submit your pic for the sidebar this week.
Standard size is 300x300px
Please do not downvote posts based on fandom
Keep it civil, don't be a jerk
Thread closes on Tuesday morning
Most popular pic will be the sidebar for the week (pending mod approval)
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2024.12.01 05:00 AutoModerator Set up Sunday!

You can post your own stories or narrations here to get feedback on them from readers and writers alike. You can also crosspost from nosleepworkshops if you made a post there. Start conversations, ask questions, get feedback. Please remember flairs. Have a great day!
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2024.12.01 05:00 sumpitsakit Akibat beli rumah yang modalnya cuma gambar

submitted by sumpitsakit to ondonesia [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 SunSAndMoonSOf5 You know, even if they aren't go to be the Natlan sapphic pair, it's still fun finding connections between Xilonen and Chasca through symbolism. So here's another connection with Xilonen and Chasca

submitted by SunSAndMoonSOf5 to Chasca [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 HideMyreddit why are people born with mental disorders

i hear a lot about people hating on nickleback yall don’t know shite about being a badass
submitted by HideMyreddit to rock [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 RudeExit7927 Subway tile color for kitchen

Hey guys, I’m almost finished with a kitchen remodel and need to pick out a color for a backsplash. Quartzite countertops have brown/taupe, white, and a grey/green type color. Cabinets are natural cherry with black hardware.
Any ideas? Was thinking of going with the brown on the left to compliment the countertop, but maybe just a white would look cleaner since it’s busy? Maybe some other color? Open to suggestions, just prefer subway tile.
submitted by RudeExit7927 to DesignMyRoom [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 Electronic_Cream_282 Sparrow

submitted by Electronic_Cream_282 to photo [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 Edu_divarxx Marilyn loved all living things, including animals and people.

submitted by Edu_divarxx to MarilynMonroe [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 Fliggin Should water lines in crawl space be insulated by code?

Paid a plumber to move some water lines for a kitchen remodel. Ignoring the giant hole cut in the floor joist, shouldn’t the pex in the crawl space be insulated?
submitted by Fliggin to Plumbing [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 SaltyAdminBot Pilot captures triangular like object

submitted by SaltyAdminBot to UFOs_Archives [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 motion74 ilk koleksiyonum

Zaten meraklıydim araçlara kardeşimin oyuncaklarindan buldum nasıl sizce
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2024.12.01 05:00 paladude_ WAKE UP BASTARDS ITS POUND THE PUSSIES GAME DAY!!!!

submitted by paladude_ to steelers [link] [comments]

2024.12.01 05:00 phantomqueen1031 I made a new friend in the lake behind my house. It went as well as you’d expect.

Content Warning: >! animal death (one brief instance), child abuse, death, homophobia (light, implied) !<
I didn’t really want to talk about this. What happened to Penny pumped the brakes on my life so fast that I’m still paying for it in therapy. It was the end of a long series of odd events that began when I was twelve years old and has made me the worst kind of local celebrity: the Girl Who Was There When It Happened. I’d be much happier if I didn’t have to set the record straight on her disappearance every time I was asked, and I don't want to give a thousand more defenses on the actions I am about to take. If folks care to listen, I'll make my statement here, once, and be done with it.
My parents owned a large scrap yard that took up about half of our sizable property and it is where I spent most of my time growing up. I loved being among the rust and twisted metal and I knew that dangerous things must live between the stacks of flattened trucks and labyrinthian pathways. My parents didn’t let me wander alone at first, but they gave up when I started climbing out of the trailer windows to go exploring. Better to show me how to be safe in a dangerous place than to keep a lock on every exit, Dad said.
Well, one night my parents got into a fight over something. Maybe Linda, my stepmother, was drinking, or I spilled grape juice on the tablecloth, or both. My dad’s mediation efforts often led to Linda saying he babied me too much. I would get defensive and tell Linda where she could shove it. Linda slaps me. Dad grabs Linda hard and pulls her into the bedroom. I run out the front door and disappear into the towers of junk. They find me a few hours later. Rinse and repeat.
That time, however, I didn’t run my usual way. I took a box of nature bars off the counter and ran away from my scrap castle. The moon gave me about enough light to go on as I booked it towards the line of trees behind our home. It was our property, but we never went into those woods. There wasn’t a clear reason for it, but Dad would start in on one of his lectures about the dangers of feral wildlife if I got too curious.
There were no trails through that patch of wilderness. The afternoon’s rain made a mess of everything and left cold mud to slide into my Crocs. It was November or December and I did not bring a jacket. A faint mist seeded fields of goosebumps over my arms. I was about to admit that I was scared and lost and ready to go home when I fell face first into the lake.
It was a shock to be in that frigid water without warning. I’m a strong swimmer, but the temperature difference took a lot out of me as I tried to right myself. Surfacing, coughing, I realized how I didn’t notice what was right in front of me.
The lake had no shore. Instead, a several foot drop on all sides separated me from the land. Roots and bugs swarmed and tangled around one another in the moist dirt walls. The water was dark and smelled like the earth.
I held on to a strong mess of roots and kept still. Images of gators, thirty-foot monsters from another time, projected themselves over every bit of driftwood until I was certain my life was over. Something surfaced maybe ten feet away from me like a small mound on the water’s surface. It was pale and looked like the soft flesh of the little beluga whales I’d seen at Sea World.
That was enough to get me moving. I pulled myself up, using the roots as handholds and scrambling over the top on my belly. The mound waited for me just below. The top split open to reveal a set of flat teeth.
I counted to sixty, hoping it would leave by the time I was done. I had it in my head that it would follow me through the woods if I wasn’t careful. It closed its mouth. It opened its mouth. It closed again. I lost track of my count and started again. Mouth open. Closed. Opened.
I convinced myself it was a weird trout or catfish and backed away from the edge. My box of nature bars, forgotten in the fall, floated at the thing’s lips. It lowered beneath the water and resurfaced to catch a bar in its mouth. It made me think of bobbing for apples as it struggled to keep hold of the unopened wrapper. I took my half-eaten bar, soaked now as it was, and flung it at the clumsy thing.
It abandoned its first catch as easier prey struck it on one of those flat teeth. It opened wide, mashed the granola into a wet paste, and closed again as it sank below the water. After a few seconds, it returned, opening and closing faster than before. When I did not respond, it caught another wrapped bar between its teeth and held it at the bottom of the drop.
I have to admit, I was fascinated. I laid on my belly again, hooked my feet around a strong root, and stretched as far as I could to take the nature bar. It closed its mouth again, opened it, and kept it open. I dropped the unwrapped food and giggled as it struggled to keep it between its gnashing teeth. It took the bar underwater as it ate. Flecks of granola surfaced, but not many.
We repeated the exercise until, after making its way through half of the box, it sunk and did not resurface. I tried to get its attention again by trailing a long stick over the water. It didn’t come back. Instead, I got up and brushed myself off so that I could at least say I tried to get the mud off of me. It wasn’t worth doing. Linda still screamed at me when I got home, for disappearing and for my ruined shirt. Dad slept on the floor beside me that night and I tried to tell him about the mouth in the water. I was halfway through my account when I realized he was snoring.
After that, Mouth was my little secret. I didn’t visit it often, maybe once a month, but I thought about it all the time. Whenever I was brave enough, or desperate enough, I ran from the trailer and brought it something new. I expected it to have some preferences, but it didn’t. Ham sandwiches, with and without mustard, disappeared below the surface alongside jawbreakers and Twizzlers. I tried to trick it once and threw a rock in its mouth. It struggled to cough and its lips squirmed until it coughed up the stone with such force that it chipped the bark on the tree next to me. I apologized with Thanksgiving leftovers.
The first person I showed the lake to was my cousin. Let’s call her Queen. I was fourteen and Dad was making an effort to connect with our family by insisting that my uncle visit with his wife and kids for Christmas. He told me about his childhood, when his grandfather owned the scrapyard, and how they’d spend all December decorating the junk with string lights and aluminum trees. His grandmother made sure everyone, regardless of distance, made it in time to see what they’d done. It sounded nice. I wanted to picture wreaths everywhere and the everpresent smell of Christmas Eve turkey, but it was hard. We’d never done anything like that before.
My uncle’s family was bigger than ours. They showed up in a nice station wagon. Four kids poured out from the back before the parents even opened their doors. The man I assumed was my uncle hollered at them to get their asses back and help. His wife, the first black woman I’d ever seen at the yard, greeted the family first with warm hugs. Even Linda smiled.
Queen, who took after her mother in everything, introduced herself with a wide smile and a handshake while everyone else pulled dishes out of the van. Her manner was very put together, and she was dressed in her Sunday best. I, by comparison, was unbrushed and half-wild. I don’t remember my uncle very well. We only met the one time and he ignored me while Dad showed off his fishing lures.
I brought up the lake when my uncle mentioned it was a shame there weren’t any fishing spots nearby. It was the first and only time he made eye contact with me. Dad shut it down, saying there wasn’t any such thing. I told him I couldn’t tell a lie. My uncle lost interest.
Queen, however, was listening. She asked if I could show her where it was and get away from the crowded trailer for a bit. We were almost the same age and it seemed natural for us to gravitate towards each other, so I took her out back and showed her the way.
By then, my occasional treks had flattened something of a thin trail through the woods. I broke a few branches on the way each time to make sure I didn’t get lost. Queen, being from the city, thought it was incredible that I knew how to navigate the near-identical patches of trees.
My cousin was so complimentary that it made me embarrassed. We reached the break in the trees under the redness of the setting sun, and she squealed with delight at the sunken lake. In the fading daylight, the muddy water looked like an endless field of rust run-off.
Queen, to my absolute surprise, took off her bright yellow dress and draped it over a tree branch. I told her that it was a bad idea to swim. She insisted she just wanted to feel the water. I held her hands as she used the roots to lower herself to the surface and dip a foot in.
A slight bump appeared in the water and opened to show its teeth. Queen faced me as it slid in an even movement in our direction. There weren’t even ripples to warn her.
I yanked her back up, not noticing how hard I pulled, and she cried out. Queen landed on top of me and scrambled off. Her knee connected with my ribs as she did so, and her eyes were fierce. She said a lot of unkind things about me and my intentions. We both came back with bruises and my uncle left in a rage before we could have dinner.
By luck, if you can call it that, she didn’t mention the lake. At least, she didn’t mention it to my parents. I was “beyond grounded for fighting that poor girl”, Linda’s words, but I didn’t have anywhere to go or friends to go with so being stuck on the property wasn’t much of a change. With the family gone, Dad didn’t feel very festive, so we opened our few gifts in silence and excused ourselves one at a time from the living room with half-hearted thanks. I, of course, went back to my lake.
It was the first time I couldn’t find Mouth. The water, a light tan color in the morning light, was still and unblemished. I threw a few Hawaiian rolls, but they bobbed back up to the surface in mushy clumps. Maybe I’d done something wrong. Mouth might have been scared off by Queen’s yelling. The thought was enough to make me start sobbing. I didn’t bother being quiet. I knew nobody would come.
I heard a splash like a cannonball hitting the water. I flinched away and looked again to find Mouth floating towards me. The lake water sloshed almost to the top of the ledge in waves like the tide was coming in. The wet bread disappeared one bite at a time. When it finished it sank again and disappeared.
I met Penelope Fields my sophomore year of high school. It was two years after the incident with Queen and I was doing a better job of socializing with the other kids. I even had a couple of friends that would visit from time to time. We’ll call them Jack and Jill. Without mincing words, they were from money and Linda liked to have them and their Lacoste sweaters around so that earned me some extra freedom. It was through them that I met Penny.
In a lot of ways, she and I were complete opposites. Like my friends, she came from the upper middle class neighborhoods around the school and lived in a house large enough to hold three of mine. Unlike them, she didn’t dress or act like it mattered. Her hair was always changing colors from her natural blonde to aquamarine and fuchsia and back again like a magic trick. I got a red streak in part to catch her attention. It didn’t work, and nothing else did until she dropped an invite to her New Year’s party on my desk. My friends were already going so I assumed I was being invited because of them. I think I managed to thank her before my heartbeat got too loud. I couldn’t hear anything for the remainder of science.
The fact I was allowed to go felt like a miracle since I’d skipped enough school to get suspended. Even more surprising was the fact that Linda was the one who convinced Dad to interrupt my grounding for the evening. I’m still not sure what caused her change of heart, but she was mellowing more and more with time, and I liked that.
Penny greeted me at the door. It was the first time she smiled at me. She was polite and told me she was glad I could make it. Her parents introduced themselves too, but they disappeared up the staircase and never came back down, even to greet the others. Jack and Jill showed up and got their game consoles plugged in. In all, maybe twenty kids were there crowding around the living room’s dueling televisions.
I did my best to stay involved but I was an outdoors kid and Linda did not believe in rewarding my poor grades with entertainment. When Penny joined, I made it my goal to lose to her, but she wasn’t much better than I was. Instead of staying quiet like me, however, she found the fun in informing others that new rules had been announced. This time we all have to be blue. Girl-only round. Big guys. Penny sat two inches away from me on the crowded couch. Our legs touched twice.
I was the one that suggested we do a few duo rounds and Penny insisted she be my partner. Penny had a knack for getting under her friends’ skins and they got sloppy when they were mad. Jack was competitive and hot headed, and nothing drove him crazier than losing to me. We only won once, but that was enough for me to hold it over him the whole night. I think Jill, his partner, threw the last match just to mess with him.
People started leaving once the clock hit midnight. Jack was my ride, but I caught him and Jill making out in the bathroom hallway and I wasn’t about to sit in the back while they “worked out what that meant.” I called my dad and asked him to pick me up. Penny waited with me on her porch after the other guests left. It was easy to talk during the games but now we just sat in silence and kept making and breaking eye contact. She asked me about the scrapyard. I told her it was a lot of rust and sharp metal. She asked if she could see it sometime and I stumbled over my tongue to say yes. I wasn’t sure she heard me until she said we should make it happen before the winter break was over. My dad arrived and she walked with me to ask him if it would be okay for her to visit the following weekend. He got her parent’s numbers and said he’d think about it.
I almost threw up on the way home. It was all butterflies, no food poisoning, and strong enough that I couldn’t think about her without shaking. Dad went twenty under the speed limit. I stuck my head out the window and enjoyed the cool breeze. I smiled into my arm where no one could see.
Linda put a ham in the oven for her visit, saying it wasn’t every day I made a new friend. My guess is that she thought the middle class might rub off on her if she just impressed them enough. Her face fell when Penny arrived at the door with pink and blue braids and a ragged old Zeppelin shirt. Linda made it very clear that we would need leftovers and that seconds were out of the question. Dad watched me give Penny a nervous handshake with a raised eyebrow.
We ate at the table and Dad asked Penny what her family did for a living. Turns out they owned a local phosphate mine. Dad changed the subject and talked about how he was in the service before I was born. Linda prodded her food one mechanical bite at a time.
Penny and I were released after dinner so that I could give her the tour she came for. I’d done it before with Jack and Jill, but this time Dad insisted on joining us. Whenever we turned a corner through the scrap either he or Linda would appear and remind us that it was getting late. I whispered apologies to Penny.
She asked if there was anywhere private we could go. I told her there might be, but it was kind of far, and the way was messy. She took my hand and I led her through a series of sudden turns, then doubled back, and we burst out of the scrap maze. We ran until we were well beyond the trees.
It looked like a storm had passed over my usual path. Fallen trees appeared in our way and we climbed over or circumvented them, adding more distance to the already long walk. Wide patches of grass were flattened with their blades pointed like spears in the same direction. Something wet was stuck to my shoe.
Penny asked if we were far enough yet. I insisted we were almost there. Her hand was still in mine. I wondered if she could feel my pulse.
I spotted the lip of the lake and pulled Penny back just as her foot hit the open air. For a moment she was in my arms and I in hers as she grabbed me in surprise. I sputtered out the word “Lake” and stepped back with my hands behind my back. Penny took my hand again, stepping very close to reach around me, and put it back around her. I felt cold and warm at the same time and my stomach bubbled.
She asked me if I’d ever done this before and lifted my other hand to put her fingers between mine. I said no. She said the same, at least not with anyone she really wanted to. Her face was as red as mine must have been.
A sudden splash like a car crash took our attention. Penny asked me what it was and I told her I had no idea. It was almost the truth. We flashed our phone lights over the water. I could see the ripples on the surface and the way that the grime on top flowed along a clear path in our direction. Penny remarked that it wasn’t a very nice lake. Her family once filled a quarry to keep people from going inside the abandoned mine. It looked a lot like this.
We sat at the edge and waited to see if anything surfaced. I slid my hand around her waist and, by happy accident, brushed against the bare skin of her lower back. She shivered and I hoped it wasn’t from the cold. It was getting pretty chilly out.
Never in my dreams did I think I would be the one to kiss her, but I felt pulled the way a magnet must feel. It was just a quick peck and escalated from there. Somehow, I ended up over her, holding myself up with my hands on either side of her head. The colors of her hair were draped over my fingers.
The ripples in the water returned as a bloody opossum floated to the surface. I didn’t stop to mention it. Dead animals turned up in lakes and trails sometimes. My lips were back on hers as a second body, maybe a raccoon, bobbed at the edge of my vision.
Her hand moved along my waistband and my stomach stopped holding back. I rolled onto my side in time to belch a fleck of vomit. My arms and legs were shaking. I pulled them close to me. Penny asked if I was okay. I said I needed a minute. She asked if she could hold me. I said not yet. My body was buzzing and trembling with sensations that, while not new, were stronger than I was ready for.
The cool night air was doing its job. My nausea was passing, and my nerves were calming. I was worried that Penny might be put off by the bodies in the water, but they were gone. The lake’s surface was almost still.
“What kind of fish is that?”
I knew what she was talking about before I even looked. Mouth’s flat teeth and white lips stuck out from the tan waters. It opened and closed and opened again. I realized that I’d failed to take any leftovers from Linda.
“Maybe a catfish?” I guessed.
“Could be a sheepshead. They sometimes have teeth like ours.”
“How do you know that?”
“I read about animals.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I read anything without being forced to.
“I come out here and feed it sometimes. It eats just about anything.”
“Those teeth make it look like an herbivore. Have you ever seen its body?”
I shook my head and reached out my hand to take hers. Her nails, painted green, rested next to mine, chewed and dirty. I pulled her over and kissed her for the last time.
Our hands broke apart with a sudden force that popped one of my knuckles. I opened my eyes and she was flying away, soaring backwards over the lake with a look of shock like I haven’t seen since. Something was wrapped around her waist like a bright white belt. Then came the scream, and the splash.
I dove in the water before I realized I’d made the decision to do so. It was so much colder than I was expecting. My eyes were open, but it was impossible to see. I remember swimming lower and lower, hoping that I could find the bottom, seeing in my mind’s eye that something was holding her down there. No bottom came.
My lungs throbbed. I changed directions, determined to try again once I surfaced, but something slick brushed against my ankle. Then came the pain of something biting my leg and holding it strong. Something in my ankle crunched.
I kicked at it with my free foot, but it's hard to get the right amount of force underwater. It was like running in a nightmare when your real legs are wrapped up in sheets. Everything was in slow motion and urgent and I drove my foot down one more time. My boot connected with something hard, and it let me go.
My head hurt and I felt a pressure in my neck like my veins could burst. I knew I was going to die. Maybe my body would float to the surface. Maybe Mouth, if it was Mouth, would pull me down and hide me away somewhere. I forced myself to keep moving up and up. I’d be ruled a suicide. Or an accident. The thought kept me moving.
My next memory is of my father pushing down on my chest and forcing air into my lungs. I coughed up the dirty water for a long time and for a moment I thought I was going to die all over again. He tried to squeeze me, crying, but I was still too tender and pushed him away. His clothes were soaking wet, the same as me. I practiced taking deep breaths until I stopped coughing.
Dad asked me where Penny was. I told him everything. He raised an eyebrow, nodded to show he was listening, and frowned. He never stopped me to say it was impossible. He just said he was sorry. He’d take care of everything.
To make a long story short, the police came and searched everywhere, including my lake, but there was no sign of Penny. Turns out she'd been right. The lake was a mining quarry, meaning there was no telling how deep it went or what kind of contaminants might be in that water. If she swam down and got stuck on something, or managed to get herself down a side tunnel, she might be gone forever. There was no way to realistically drain the area to find out. We had an assembly about her at school.
It's been fourteen years almost to the day at time of writing. It's been a difficult time. My time in the water left its mark on me. I don’t breathe as easy as I used to, and I get worn out by almost everything. My ankle was broken with a fat bruise for weeks. It’s still very tender.
To make things worse, Dad passed away last year in a car crash and left the scrapyard to me. Linda isn’t around these days. She always hated the place anyway. I’ve spent months trying to sell it and get away from the old memories but there haven’t been any buyers. I might give the land away for free at this point. I think, like my dad, the folks around here know more about what happened than they’ll ever tell.
The good news is that it hasn't all been bad. I met my partner, let’s call her Cinderella, two years ago and it's been going great. We’re getting married in Autumn. I’m taking her name, and we’re moving out of state. I told her not to tell me which one until we got there, so long as it was far away. There’s just one more thing to do.
It was Cindy’s idea. I’ve told her this story over and over again and how guilty I’d feel leaving that monster for someone else. So, she said, why not dump a load of rat poison? Or chlorine? After all, nothing else lives in the water. We have the back of our pick-up filled with every brand of toxin we could think of.
I’m sending this off ahead of time because, well, I might not make it back. Mouth might have spared me all this time because I fed it. Now it hasn’t seen me for years and it was strong enough to launch Penny straight back like yanking on a fishing pole. To be safe, I’ve got Dad’s old hunting crossbow. Cindy’s bringing her home-defense machete. If things go well, don’t expect to hear from me again. This is the last time I’m going to address these events, and my privacy means more than anyone’s curiosity. If it goes poorly, well, don’t go swimming in any strange lakes. You never know what you’ll find down there.
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2024.12.01 05:00 Moisesgoncalves 👑

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2024.12.01 05:00 george_hehe what object show charicter got you like this (for me popcorn animatic battle)

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2024.12.01 05:00 Available_Anywhere44 Grass Cache Keeps Generating

Grass Cache keeps generating and overwriting files that were already generated. If anyone knows a way to stop it, that would be very appreciated!
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2024.12.01 05:00 xelusive9 Brauche Hilfe – Mein Gras sieht aus, als würde es sterben (90 Tage alt) 🌱💀

Hallo zusammen,
Ich brauche dringend euren Rat. Mein Gras ist jetzt exakt 90 Tage alt, aber es sieht aus, als würde es sterben. Bin mir unsicher, ob ich es schon ernten soll oder ob ich es riskieren kann, es noch weiter wachsen zu lassen.

Lampenabstand: Ca. 50 cm.
Eine Pflanze kippt langsam: Ich bin unsicher, ob es am Gewicht der Blüte liegt oder ob sie generell schwächelt.
Trichome: Soweit ich sehen kann, sind sie noch nicht wirklich milchig.

Ich will die 90 Tage Arbeit nicht riskieren und alles in den Sand setzen. Was würdet ihr machen? Bilder folgen in den Kommentaren.
Danke schon mal für eure Hilfe! 🌿
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2024.12.01 05:00 tarragonoutforcigs Cringe moments

I am hoping I took a prank call today...when this woman asked if we sold ponies because her daughter got straight A's... I almost immediately hung up. But I literally heard an exchange between her small daughter (sounded younger than 5) and her. "I want a pony mom." "Mommy's trying to get you one."
In a polite tone while rolling my eyes, I told her no PetSmart sells ponies. I am HOPING this was a prank but normally people do anonymous calls when pranking. I told her to have a goodnight and hung up.
I walked back on to the sales floor to assist in PC and the PP bragged about moving their goldfish in to a 10 gallon.
I have like 5 more stories just from today, but I just want to be reassured that I'm not suffering alone.
What cringe-worthy stories is everyone going home with this weekend? 🥴
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