F26/EST - Talking about you. I mean me. I mean you.
2025.01.21 04:21 ThickStrawberryJam F26/EST - Talking about you. I mean me. I mean you.
Feeling bored & conversational. I’m up for talking about most things, let’s just not make it weird. I’ll be impressed with anyone that gets the art reference in my title.
Send me a message and let me know what platforms you use!
submitted by ThickStrawberryJam to VoiceChats [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 Wesdawg1241 Trump withdraws the U.S. from the World Health Organization
 | submitted by Wesdawg1241 to Conservative [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 glacius_kori1 Morgantes song
Mine says to stand in the shadow of a lonely house, and then the path would be open at night, the square is in the place where you meet Lhante the first time, I already tried everything, night and Day included, and I just dont get it
submitted by glacius_kori1 to cassettebeasts [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 Tamaasha It seems like the issue of birthright citizenship for non-resident aliens, including legal immigrants, is going to face some serious struggles.
Among the categories of individuals born in the United States and not subject to the jurisdiction thereof, the privilege of United States citizenship does not automatically extend to persons born in the United States: (1) when that person’s mother was unlawfully present in the United States and the father was not a United States citizen or lawful permanent resident at the time of said person’s birth, or (2) when that person’s mother’s presence in the United States at the time of said person’s birth was lawful but temporary (such as, but not limited to, visiting the United States under the auspices of the Visa Waiver Program or visiting on a student, work, or tourist visa) and the father was not a United States citizen or lawful permanent resident at the time of said person’s birth.
https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/01/protecting-the-meaning-and-value-of-american-citizenship/#:~:text=Among%20the%20categories%20of%20individuals,the%20father%20was%20not%20a
submitted by Tamaasha to Lawyertalk [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 THEYCANTHAVEMYBRAND Jesus loves the little children 🥲
 | submitted by THEYCANTHAVEMYBRAND to cfbmemes [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 ManufacturerOk4153 Wingun colt saa peacemaker co2 gel blaster from collection only never fielded only q of the two up for grabs
 | Wingun colt saa peacemaker co2 gel blaster from collection only never fielded only q of the two up for grabs In as new condition unremarkable comes with a set of shells and a couple of spare co2 bulbs pickup 4130 Or can post No holds $650 you can even pick which colour you want lol 😆 Very regretful sale tbh submitted by ManufacturerOk4153 to GelBlasterMarket [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 shareholdervalue1 Trump revokes Biden executive order on addressing AI risks
https://www.reuters.com/technology/artificial-intelligence/trump-revokes-biden-executive-order-addressing-ai-risks-2025-01-21/
submitted by shareholdervalue1 to WallStreetbetsELITE [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 Digital6668180 What’s a moment you wish you got to see
 | I was alive but I would only watch WWE YouTube matches and I’ve only been watching the three shows weekly for abt two years submitted by Digital6668180 to WeAreVYBE [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 Zestyclose-Rope5337 SF HOT CHOCOLATE 2026 discount code!
Hi all! Here’s a $5 discount code for next years hot chocolate race (Jan 2026!)
Code: YJBKTFRQAT
Or use this link, code is already included!
https://venturesendurance.enmotive.com/events/registe2026-hot-chocolate-run-san-francisco/code:YJBKTFRQAT
submitted by Zestyclose-Rope5337 to SFlist [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 Ordinary_Coffee_8517 If you don’t trust the link look up ((thelightkingdom guess that vtuber))
This is my first yt video would love for people to watch it if you would like to try to see if you know your favorite Vtuber’s
https://youtu.be/auMKZHeRzag?si=N6W4YyMrVlJsCiGy
submitted by Ordinary_Coffee_8517 to SunKenji [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 coltonnyc Two Cosworths rotting away on a side-street.
 | submitted by coltonnyc to mercedes_benz [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 TheSchneid The funniest director filmography I've seen in a minute, the guy has a niche that's for sure
 | submitted by TheSchneid to Letterboxd [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 smkgreengo in fuengirola atm any recommendations on good smokeclubs ?
l
submitted by smkgreengo to hash [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 Chrixtxpher Post Monthly Link
 | Enjoy 🫶🏽 submitted by Chrixtxpher to stakeus [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 RelativeChapter I suck at this game and I think I need to one trick for a while but can't decide on the champ to choose so I'll leave it to you guys.
So yeah, I just got into ranked after feeling like hot shit in normals and I am now in the Iron club. I realized I am ping ponging between champs way too much and I need to just commit to one so I can focus on game mechanics and matchups. The champs I currently play are Yorick, Vladimir, Garen and Aatrox. Garen is out though since I get a bit bored on him way to fast. I really enjoy Irelia as well but I feel like she is a bit out of my skill level.
So since I can't decide, what do you think would be the best champion to one trick out of Yorick, Vlad or or Aatrox?
submitted by RelativeChapter to top_mains [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 Mote-of-Lobross Count Jim's Fortean Freakshow Part 3
Part 2 here: https://www.reddit.com/stayawake/comments/1i5dop0/count_jims_fortean_freakshow_part_2/
Journal of Frater XII of the Esoteric Order of the Other
October 20th, 1993 - Anson, TX
The chill of October in Scrimbus always settled deep, a clammy hand on my throat. This day was no different, except for the added knot of anxiety twisting in my gut, though diminished to a slightly manageable level through my meds and awareness exercises. It wasn't the usual hum of my GAD, the ever-present static of worry; this was sharp, insistent, like a tuning fork struck too hard. It had started with the phone call.
The voice, tinny and distorted through the speaker, had warned me. Warned me. She'd called herself Suzy, a clipped, frantic tone that sliced through the usual calm and friendly tone of my Saturday night broadcast. Something about not airing the queued up piece on the the collider tape, and me, as well as the EOTO, being in danger. I’d tried to reason with her, ask for more, but she’d hung up abruptly, leaving me with a buzzing line and an amplified unease.
I, for the most part, don't easily alarm. Stoicism is my default setting; it's a survival mechanism as much as it is a chosen persona. But this… this was different. The urgency in her voice echoed the unsettling energy I’d been sensing lately, a ripple in the fabric of reality that even the medications couldn’t fully quell. So, instead of succumbing to the familiar paralysis of anxiety, I acted. I decided to take this into my own hands, to venture out into the reality I was trying to better understand. I thought I'd start at the source of the phone call in Anson, then to Abilene to check with the archivists on their analysis of my show.
My '83 Datsun King Cab, affectionately known as 'The Rust Bucket,' rumbled to life, the engine coughing out a plume of blue smoke that mirrored the mood of my day. The drive east to Anson was a blur of grey skies and autumn-tinged trees. Anson itself was a wasteland of failing businesses and broken promises, a perfect backdrop for the unsettling feeling that gnawed at my edges. The gas station where Suzy had called from was as rundown as the rest of the town: cracked asphalt, peeling paint, and a flickering neon sign that buzzed with irritating insistence... like the buzz from my ancient kinescope I use when broadcasting. No. EXACTLY like it.
I went inside, the bell above the door jangling like a discordant chime. The place was a relic, frozen in some forgotten decade. I browsed the dusty shelves, a pathetic attempt to look like a regular patron. I snagged a lukewarm Dr. Pepper from the cooler and, for a reason I couldn’t articulate, a questionable-looking brisket sandwich from the refrigerated box by the register. The clerk, a bored-looking teenager with a greasy mullet tied into a ponytail, didn’t even glance up as I paid. I felt like an unwelcome ghost in this place, and I know far more about ghosts than he likely ever will.
Outside, the air was heavy and still, the silence broken only by the hum of the powerlines. I leaned against the wall, the cold brick seeping through my duster, and took a swig of my soda, the cloying sweetness of the ambrosia that is Dr. Pepper doing nothing to ease the tension in my jaw. Just as I was about to toss the can into a nearby bin, the payphone against the wall began to ring, its shrill tone cutting through the quiet.
I about jumped out of my skin. There were no cars in sight, no one around. I approached the phone slowly, heart hammering against my ribs. With a hesitant hand, I picked up the receiver, its plastic cool against my palm.
"You didn't listen," the voice hissed in my ear, the same tinny distortion as before. “I told you to not to air that segment! This is going to get you killed! Get out of here like I did!"
"Suzy?" I asked, my voice raspy. "Who are you? How did you even call me here?!" I tried to keep my voice level, my anxiety threatening to rise to the surface and boil over.
“There isn’t time! I have to go. Stay away from this, Count. Stay. Away. And GO... FAR AWAY!” *Click*
The line went dead, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. I stared at the receiver, dumbfounded, a hundred unanswered questions swirling in my mind. It was the absolute panic in her voice that unnerved me, a gut feeling that this wasn’t a prank, this was more of her warning coming to pass. The sandwich suddenly looked even less appetizing. I tossed it in the trash.
Dejected, I turned back toward the Rust Bucket, my shoulders slumped. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, the anxiety a physical ache this time. As I reached for the door handle, a voice boomed, startling me.
“Well, I’ll be! Isn’t that Count Jim?”
The voice belonged to a man who could only be described as a long-haul trucker. He was a big, jovial fellow, with a belly that strained against his faded denim shirt, his face ruddy, and a wide grin splitting his face. He approached me, his hand extended, and I automatically took the hand of the man.
“Manny’s the name,” he said, his voice a friendly rumble, “Big fan of your show, Count!”
A fan... yaaaaay. I plastered a smile on my face, the forced cheerfulness a familiar mask. "Oh, always nice to meet a fan!" I said, doing my best to keep my current mood out of my tone. Meeting a fan in the wild has always made me uncomfortable.... And the last thing I wanted right now. I just hope this isn't your standard conspiracy yokel.
He chuckled. “I catch your show whenever I can! Makes rest stops on long trucking hauls a whole lot more interesting, that's for sure.”
“Right,” I said, forcing myself to engage. "Did you happen to catch last Saturday's show? I'm trying to get some… viewer feedback on a particular… artifact featured."
Manny’s brow furrowed. “Naw. Just got back from a several day haul to New Mexico and back. Haven’t had a chance to catch up on the shows. My wife tapes 'em for me while I'm out so I can watch 'em while stopped for the night. Tell you what I did see, though…” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Day before yesterday, at a rest stop out in the Sandia Pueblo reservation, I swear on my mama's grave, I saw an albino chupacabra climb out the back of my rig and scurry off into the desert.”
I stared at him, my carefully constructed stoicism threatening to crumble. An albino chupacabra. My eye twitched behind my red-tinted specs. It was the kind of ridiculous claim that always seemed to find its way to me. I was not in the mood.
“Well, that’s… certainly interesting,” I said, my voice dangerously flat. I pulled one of my cards from my duster pocket, the ouroboros design a silent promise of unseen truths. “Here. Feel free to contact me if you have any… other insights.” I needed to be back at EOTO headquarters in nearby Abilene.
Manny took the card with a wide grin. “Will do, Count! You take care now, and keep them weird signals coming!”
I nodded curtly and finally managed to reach The Rust Bucket’s door, getting in and slamming it shut. I leaned my forehead on the steering wheel, taking a deep breath, a desperate attempt to regain control over my thoughts. Albino chupacabra? For real, Dude? This day… this entire week, is a mess. It was time to head back to EOTO headquarters, where I hoped the archivists had made some progress on analyzing my show. Maybe, just maybe, they’ve found something that can shed some light on the bizarre events unfolding around me.
Two hours later - Abilene, TX
The flickering fluorescent lights of the EOTO archives hummed, a discordant symphony to the turmoil churning in my gut. The weight of my nerves felt like a lead apron. I adjusted my spectacles, the world momentarily shifting from sharp focus to a blurry red haze, a necessary barrier against the world-at-large.
The archivists, a trio of pale, bespectacled souls who looked like they’d been born clutching Dewey Decimal cards, had informed me the anomalies were "more extensive than initially anticipated." Their words were as carefully chosen as I was handed an enhanced and digitally combed-over VHS tape. I found myself in a small viewing room, the stale air thick with the scent of aged paper and something else, something vaguely…metallic. The screen in front of me crackled, the "Big Country Public Access" logo momentarily flashing before the distorted image of my own face took its place, contorted into an unnatural mask of stoicism.
I watched, a familiar knot tightening in my chest. Since Saturday, I repeatedly gone over this broadcast. I knew it, felt every carefully chosen word, every calculated pause. But now, something was… off. The image flickered, the sounds of my voice warping into something guttural, like an old engine struggling to turn over. I noticed it, a fleeting image, almost subliminal, appearing for mere fractions of a second, pair of lips moving in the static, bleeding into the backdrop of the show as they mumbled something rapidly. I leaned closer, adjusting the tracking on the machine, the low hum of the VCR rising into a grinding screech. More images followed, a barrage of twisted shapes and distorted faces, things that had no right to appear on a public access television show, let alone anywhere, frankly. More importantly, I didn't remember them. It was like my own broadcast had been infiltrated, twisted from the inside out.
“The audio,” one of the archivists, a young man named Silas, said. His voice was thin, like paper, and almost inaudible through the static. He fiddled with the sound board. “It’s… layered. We’ve found several frequencies, beyond the range of human hearing, all hidden beneath your normal voice.”
They played it back, isolating one of the hidden layers, and a chorus of whispers filled the room. It wasn’t human speech, more like the wind whistling through a crypt or the rustling of insects in a tomb. I could almost hear words... vaguely familiar ones that I couldn't quite place. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, a primal fear igniting from the base of my skull. My hand instinctively went to the ouroboros ring on my right hand, a silent reminder of the ancient cycles.
“That symbol that appears, Honored Frater,” said the second archivist, a woman named Beatrice. She nervously pointed at the flickering, distorted image of my show screen. “It matches one mentioned in the De Natura Alterius... a classified part. An old prophecy.” she said in a cracking voice.
I felt a cold sweat break out on my skin. The De Natura Alterius... at least the original manuscript... was not easily accessed. And the contents redacted from our paperback copies were not something one casually referenced. A symbol, pointed out to me, hidden in the static of the frame the video was paused on was a black spiral, was not a good omen. Not at all.
“The prophecy…” Silas continued, his voice trembling slightly, "speaks of a convergence, a breach between worlds. It says the spiral will lead to a catastrophic event, something that will… unmake... or at the very least, drastically change our reality.”
The room seemed to grow colder, the flickering lights casting long, dancing shadows on the walls. I felt my heart hammering against my ribs, the medication doing little to stem the rising tide of anxiety. This wasn’t some crackpot fringe theory anymore. This was real, tangible, and it was coming from my damned show. And why were they even giving me this info? I imagine Soror XI instructed them to give me something to ease my mind and get me back on track with my duties.
I thought of the supercollider due to go online soon. The one that was supposedly only for research. I had always been wary of it... hoping its financial struggles over past few years would put an end to the poking of the proverbial quantum bear. And now I was starting to get a bad feeling.
The archivists continued, speaking of the timeline, a timeline that corresponded with the supercollider and my broadcast, creating a tapestry of chaos and dread. My focus narrowed, the weight of the information crushing me. Loyalties felt like they were started to fray, like old rope. The organization itself, the organization I dedicated my life to, felt… wrong. There were missing files hidden deeply in the archives. Secrets within secrets, all hidden behind a veil of what I thought was noble purpose. No. That can't be it. We're not the NAORC for crying out loud.
My mind raced, the implications of this… revelation, slamming into me like a physical blow. This wasn't just a glitch in the feed. This was something far more significant, far more dangerous. My initial concern for the safety of the Otherlings... and myself... expanded, encompassing everything, everyone. This wasn’t just about seeking understanding; it was about preserving reality itself.
I suddenly felt a burning rage that I couldn't seem to control. I don't like being left out of the loop, especially when my ass might be on the line. I rose from my seat and began to speak, a torrent of words, more than I had spoken in hours, my normal stoicism replaced by an anxiety-fueled tirade. "This isn't about the show!" I yelled. "This is about them! They aren't telling us, are they? Are they?!"
The archivists looked at me, wide-eyed, as I continued to ramble, and for the first time since I'd joined the EOTO, I was filled not only with anxiety, but a bone-deep suspicion. They knew more than they were letting on. And that, I was certain of. In hindsight, I feel awful for my outburst. They're only doing their job. And I'm quite sure Soror XI will surely censure them brutally for even giving me what little info they provided... Well, if she found out they did at least.
The familiar hum of the VCR continued, the distorted images of my broadcast flickering on the screen, a twisted reflection of my own mounting fear. The stakes were higher than I’d ever imagined, and I was caught in the middle, trapped between my loyalty and the gnawing feeling that the organization I was so dedicated to was actively withholding me from some terrible secret. But maybe my vanity and deteriorating mental state were getting the better of me. There's plenty of stuff that's on a need-to-know basis, but not anything that ever directly involved myself.
And that, more than anything, was what truly terrified me. I regained my composure and apologized profusely to the archivists, who also seemed more anxious than a group of nerdy long tailed cats in a room full of rocking chairs. I assured them what they told me will be just between me and them. After thanking them for their efforts and their transparency, I took my leave.
I left Abilene with more info. But with this info, more questions have poked their ugly heads to the surface like bloated gaseous corpses in a rancid pond. In a fit of self doubt.... or post-freakout clarity... I questioned whether I'm jumping the gun by pursuing these threads. I've always known the EOTO has secrets that are not known to every member, not even Fraters such as myself. This can't be the first doom-and-gloom prophecy they averted in secret, is it? Surely they have the situation in hand. They've never done me wrong before.
I figured I deserved a small break. I got the prep work for Saturday's show taken care of in record time. Maybe when I get home, I'll indulge in a bit of "alakazam" with a double dose of Alprazolam... Maybe reacquaint myself with my old pal, Sega for a bit.
After all, I'm not the world saving type.
submitted by Mote-of-Lobross to stayawake [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 _gears_ Rigotti #2 Mandel not fitting Chiarugi #2 Brass Staple
Hi,
I bought a couple Chiarugi all brass staples pretty excited about them being corkless but neither of them fit on my mandrel just right. The brass staples is a bit smaller than the mandrel so it’s not exactly flush with the end of the mandrel when pushed as far as it can go. The mandrel works with other #2 staples like the #2 and #2+ chiarugi 47mm normal staples but not this one.
Where could I buy a mandrel that fits?
Thanks!
submitted by _gears_ to oboe [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 dillimunda Safed Ghar Waapsi
 | submitted by dillimunda to indiameme [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 Fluid_Future_7406 Redwoods
 | submitted by Fluid_Future_7406 to Forest [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 demonicvampiregirl Playlist not autoplaying anymore?
I been using playlists for ages and suddenly today, my music one just refuses to auto play. I tried a non-music playlist and it seems to work just fine but the music one I have to click the next link for. Going to try to recreate it and see if it is bugged but does anyone else have this issue and know a possible fix?
submitted by demonicvampiregirl to youtube [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 Agreeable_Muffin7059 The hair is the exact same color and the roots are the same too!!
 | Besides the pole in the background, her hair is exactly the same color and the roots are the same length about an inch or less. She obviously had this baby by the time she had this baby shower. Anyone know the date of the baby shower? Also how did she see Ken before March 29? I heard that the earliest he was seen in Cut Off was Good Friday which is 3/29. So are we positive this is Ken’s baby?? Maybe the plot twist on their trash show is that it’s Ryan’s baby !? Idk I’m just very confused. lol submitted by Agreeable_Muffin7059 to GRBsnark [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 Mali_Ye_Mei Has quitting caffeine/being caffeine-free helped you excel in your career?
I was curious whether all the benefits of quitting caffeine—such as improved concentration, reduced fatigue, fewer bathroom breaks, decreased anxiety, and many others—have actually helped you perform better at work and excel more easily in your career. I would love to hear about your experience, as I’m looking for more reasons to stay motivated on my caffeine-free journey.
submitted by Mali_Ye_Mei to decaf [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 The_Director- Such a cute Faunus
 | submitted by The_Director- to RWBY_Ruby_Rose [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 04:21 Inside-Distance6257 Hadestown with Jordan Fisher?
just looking to trade for Jordan Fisher as Orpheus. i have a pretty limited collection. two of Parade and The Outsiders, one of the Connector, Next to normal (west end), Little shop with ABF and SH. lmk if you can help. Thanks :)
submitted by Inside-Distance6257 to BootlegGifts [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 04:21 yeahphone [WTS][US-IL][H]smsl SH-8s [W]$69 shipped
![[WTS][US-IL][H]smsl SH-8s [W]$69 shipped](https://b.thumbs.redditmedia.com/HFLJHFjC3OFPYjKyRVsLuO1fQcOa_Ch2TEaTKeLM-mw.jpg "[WTS][US-IL][H]smsl SH-8s [W]$69 shipped") | Please note that the XLR inputs have a slight channel imbalance! RCA inputs work excellent. submitted by yeahphone to AVexchange [link] [comments] |