WIRELESS RETRO JOYCON submitted by iStar Technology CO., Limited
2025.01.21 10:57 FCC_Insights_Bot WIRELESS RETRO JOYCON submitted by iStar Technology CO., Limited
FCC ID: 2AV5Y-YS61R ### Application Information Submitted on: Jan 20, 2025
Equipment Description: WIRELESS RETRO JOYCON
TCB Grant Type: A4: UNII devices & low power transmitters using spread spectrum techniques
Manufacturer: iStar Technology CO., Limited ### Further Details See more data about WIRELESS RETRO JOYCON (FCC ID 2AV5Y-YS61R)
Find more iStar Technology CO., Limited devices
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2025.01.21 10:57 Lanabananana_ Painting the rubber sole
 | I got these boots on sale, so it was very cheap for a Martens and I think I would like it better if the rubber sole was black. Is there any way that I could paint it? I have seen that some folks that recommended the Angelus Acrylic leather paint, has anyone used it on the rubber sole? https://preview.redd.it/71f8s7nnvbee1.png?width=576&format=png&auto=webp&s=90f088430605dd2befbb4bf705530e0aa2386692 submitted by Lanabananana_ to DrMartens [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 10:57 Visual_Stable5636 Ano pwede gawin kapag may nangutang sayo worth 1k?
Sinabe nya babayaran niya agad ng Sunday kapag nagsahod till now wala padin. Masama bako para humingi ng daily update?
submitted by Visual_Stable5636 to AskPH [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 10:57 Green-Caterpillar-33 femboy outdoors vs. femboy indoors
 | submitted by Green-Caterpillar-33 to teenfemboy [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 10:57 New_Bad_1504 Geeked vs Locked in Art by @Mila
 | submitted by New_Bad_1504 to marvelrivals [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 10:57 EntireCold3305 What is the best approach to remote manage?
Im using a vpn server (L2TP) on local Mikrotik (public IP) then all remote peers connect back to it (as vpn clients) so I can monitor and/or login using Winbox. Im happy with the current setup but I wonder if other alternatives are possible. Thanks
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2025.01.21 10:57 Ok-Spirit2973 Where do I start?
I am a freshly 28F spiraling about aging. I have no skin care routine, I don't wear make up regularly. If I wear makeup it would be just lashes and lips, on special occasions an addition of eye shadow.
My skin is oily, acne prone and I get burnt very easily. I'm also an athlete with a sport which requires a mask. For the most part my skin is pretty clear, occasional hormonal flare ups, and now that I'm training more I'm finding small bits of acne coming and going more frequently - but that isn't the primary concern although something that would be nice to manage.
Where do I start when it comes to starting aging preventative measures? My skin is starting to sag a little, it flakes after warm showers, and I've got smile lines both by the cheeks (heavy on those) and around the eyes. I do not like how my skin /face is looking now when I smile or not under the limits of good lighting. My instinct is to start collagen powders, start regularly putting SPF on my face and add a moisturizer. How do I even know I need moisturizing? What are some signs I need to look out for that my skin needs something? And any product recommendations based on the provided info?
I live in Canada too, so cold winters, hot summers, both impact skin condition.
Thank you so much for any and all responses! Any guidance is truly appreciated.
submitted by Ok-Spirit2973 to 30PlusSkinCare [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 10:57 HovercraftItchy8991 Which Version of Yoo Who Cannon is Better?
Yoo Who Cannon, which version is better? * Bowser's inside story: Both M&L can initiate, but no additional final shot. * Brothetship: Final shot is newly added, but only Luigi can initiate.
View Poll
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2025.01.21 10:57 bollineni7 2025 is mathematical magic 🪄
https://youtube.com/shorts/0WgZ_EvcrPs?si=o1w9142gWGEr3Y6T
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2025.01.21 10:57 Bee7el Bbq B4PYRV
submitted by Bee7el to unioncircle [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 10:57 AdministrativeJob104 Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
I paced the living room of the canal boat. Six steps to the kitchen from the couch, ten paces back to the fireplace. The floors were clean but seven failed croissants stared at me from the countertop—a frustrating recipe yet to be mastered.
I wiped the counter again, ignoring the croissants. Today’s distractions: thrift stores, Googling ‘Should I go to the pub alone,’ and FaceTiming Mom to assure her I wasn’t lonely. Convincing her was easier than convincing myself. That was just this afternoon. My new embroidered jean jacket provided enough dopamine to trick my brain into thinking we had a good day.
“Fuck it.”
I grabbed my makeup and stared at my complexion in the small mirror. Two dots of concealer under my eyes to hide the dark circles threatening to become permanent while ignoring the lines that rudely suggested my twenties were a distant memory. I rummaged through my wardrobe. Despite stuffing twenty-three kilograms of ‘new life essentials’ into my suitcase, nothing screamed, ‘Please don’t talk to me.’ I settled into jeans and my camping puffy—still faintly smoky from my leaving party.
Where are my contacts? I grabbed my glasses which would allow me to assess which seat at the bar posed the least risk. This small borough of London was like any other and my presence would likely be noticed immediately. Being a woman over six feet tall has advantages; indiscretion has never been one.
I noticed the pub on my walk from Surbiton this afternoon, advertising a live Frank Sinatra tribute tonight at 8:30 PM. I walked quickly past the neighbouring canal boats and shut the gate quietly behind me as I marvelled at the stone cottages lining the claustrophobic street. It was already past 9:00 PM. One drink, a chat with the bartender, and I’d get the human interaction I was craving.
I ducked as I stepped into the dimly lit room. Four men sat at the bar, each turning to look at me as I made my way to the right, then quickly changed course to a seat directly in front of the door when I realized my first choice would put me directly in front of the make-shift stage. An empty stool on either side provided six feet of space to eavesdrop on conversations and pretend I was participating. I avoided their questioning eyes and smiled at the bartender, a friendly older gentleman who welcomed me with the banter the English were known for. My North American accent would reveal my first secret before I could.
“I’ll have a pint of cider, please and thank you.” The bartender jovially threatened to drink mine before placing it before me. I reciprocated the play by reaching for the pint he was drinking behind the bar. I started taking in my surroundings, and they did the same. The three men to my right came separately but knew each other. The man to my left caught my eye. His wine-stained smile and unsteady grip on the bar warned me before his slurred words did. Drunkenly breathing through his mouth, my gaze was the only invitation he needed.
I turned in my stool, facing the singer and away from his persistent, belligerent ramblings. Maybe I shouldn’t have put on concealer. If he saw the dark circles under my eyes, I wouldn’t be the “fucking hot” woman he was drunkenly imagining. The bartender made a polite conversation about where I was from and how I ended up at his bar top. The locals listened intently. I quickly danced around his questions before mirroring them to him. His name was Ed and despite being married for 32 years he deliberately made the two women who had colonized the bartop blush, as any good bartender would. He reminded me of my Dad; charismatic, warm and a shameless flirt.
The drunken man was increasing in volume making it difficult to ignore him. His increased volume had the others interested in my pending reaction. Most of his questions were unintelligible but I answered with nods and single words in an attempt at keeping his volume low. He banged on the bar near my glass when I didn’t answer him and I noticed the ring on the third finger of his left hand. A married man hitting on an unaccompanied woman in a pub; groundbreaking.
My mind drowned him out with thoughts of what was she like and why she agreed to marry this drunken idiot. I imagined that she sent him here as respite. I suppose I was doing her a favour in keeping him out a little longer. I drank the first cider quickly and considered leaving. “I’ll have another please.” I have always been a sucker for punishment and she more than likely deserves a few more minutes of peace before he stumbles home.
I moved my glass towards the barman and excused myself to the washroom. His eye contact silently confirmed he would keep watch of the glass. The concealer had done its job but my glasses had left red impressions on either side of my nose.
Where the fuck did leave my contacts?
I could hear Ed explaining to my gentleman caller that sometimes “people just want to have a quiet drink” and to “leave me be.”
Thank you, Ed.
His name was Johnny and the sadness he was attempting to drown in red wine was hard for me to ignore. I fantasized about being a different woman; one who would set clear boundaries and not be fearful of hurting this drunk man’s feelings, as if he would remember. When he stumbled past me towards the exit and used the small of my back to stabilize himself, a different version of me would grab his wrist, look him in the eye and tell him to go home and sleep it off. I, on the other hand, felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my face grimace. The fact people are attracted to men is perplexing. When his hand left my back, I could feel my shoulders relax and my eyes reopened. How long had they been closed?
I made eye contact with the tall French man sitting closest to me. He too, took this as an invitation to chat after witnessing my visceral reaction to Johnny’s physical contact. He apologized on behalf of Johnny and explained that this was a weekly event. He offered the stool next to him which would make him a clear barrier between Johnny and myself should he return. Maybe he’s gone home to his wife.
As I weighed the options thoroughly, glass shattered outside. Everyone’s attention turned to the fight emerging on the patio. A woman was screaming at Johnny, who looked like a toddler trying to, unsuccessfully, scrape himself off the pavement. Ed was outside helping Johnny to his feet while simultaneously de-escalating the other man who helped him to the floor. They shook hands before he lit Johnny’s cigarette.
If only all battles could end like this, I thought.
Ed resurfaced behind the bar and began telling the owner and the herd of thirsty locals about Johnny’s latest embarrassment. Would his wife ask about the blood on his shirt? Would she notice the tear in his jeans? I hoped she was relaxing in a hot bath with a good book. I feared she was pacing the living room focused on the whereabouts of her devout husband.
“I told him he was done for the night, Ian. Called his brother to take him home.” Ed’s voice cut through my daydream.
The French man’s accent was thick, “Ian, he’s been harassing this woman all night. You have to tell him he can’t do shit like this all the time.”
I’ve been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king
I’ve been up and down and over and out and I know one thing
Each time I find myself flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race
The singer was polished and detached. He was like me, passing through. His accent didn’t match the rest; his break wasn’t filled with absorbing the long list of current events from the locals. He was uninterested in the third retelling of Ed’s valiant efforts with Johnny. He retreated to a peaceful corner of the pub after picking up a complimentary gin and tonic from Ian. I met his gaze through the growing crowd of chatter I found myself in. He was the only other person who noticed Johnny slink to the back of the pub, picking two orphaned pints before promptly spilling one on a woman and eventually finding an empty seat out of view. His audacity was almost comical when it wasn’t directed at me.
The singer cocked his eyebrow at me. His eyes pointed towards Johnny and then back to me asking, Should we tell them? I shrugged and made a face I hoped would convey that the choice was his. He sipped his drink, turning his attention to the woman taking her phone out of its case to assess the damage from the beer spilt on it. I should probably tell Ed, but I was selfishly enjoying the anonymity and lack of conversation. I took the last sip of my cider and reached for my jacket.
“Ian, get this woman a drink for her trou-ble..” I didn’t find his French accent nearly as attractive as the two women behind him did. I did like the fact he didn’t know my name.
“You should really get Ed a drink. He did all the hard work.” I joked, sliding one of my arms into the smokey embrace of my jacket.
Ian slid a pint of cider my way and the French man extended his hand, “I’m Paul.”
I reluctantly returned my jacket to the back of the stool and shook his hand, “Alex. Très heureux.” I was far from bilingual but growing up near Quebec meant my French was almost discernable.
Maybe I didn’t mind the attention as much as I liked to think or maybe I could sense the chaos brewing in the dimly lit corner and wanted to stick around for the show. Paul questioned my French and quickly learned that it was barely enough to keep a conversation afloat. His advances were more polite than Johnny’s but unwanted nonetheless. I focused on the woman explaining how she came to be soaked in Carlsberg to the man who had returned to her table. Paul explained what he did for work and asked me a series of questions you might ask someone on a first date. She pointed at Johnny and her date got up from his chair with intention.
“Uhhh…Ed you might want to…” I pointed to the situation that was unfolding before I could finish the warning. Glass shattered as Johnny entered the second act with the same grace as his first. Ian grabbed a bat from below the cash drawer as Ed called Paul to help. I hadn’t noticed his large stature before.
I slid both arms into my jacket and zipped it up. I stood up to get a better view of the fight being broken up. I took one last sip and put the half-full cider back on its coaster. That was enough human interaction for today.
I felt a small twinge of guilt for letting Paul buy my cider and a large wave of relief as I reached the Thames Path which meant I was out of view of the pub’s patio. An Irish goodbye in an English pub—equal parts pathetic and poetic. It suited me.
I wondered if they wondered why I had left and then wondered why I cared. My mind drifted to the desk I left empty next to Sheila’s and I wondered why I left too. Was there junk mail addressed to me piling up in the lobby of my vacant apartment? Was my dog cuddled up next to my Mom on the couch where my Dad was supposed to be?
Outside, the damp English air cooled me, and I dialled Lana. Her laugh bubbled through the line when I told her about Johnny, conveniently skipping over the parts where I felt sorry for him. She launched into a monologue about my radio silence, a comforting scold that made me miss her even more. I had never been great at long-distance friendships or relationships. I was much better at burning bridges and Irish goodbyes.
The walk back was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of trees along the Thames. I thought of calling Mom but knew I’d only tell her what she wanted to hear. Maybe tomorrow, I told myself, as I always did.
CHAPTER TWO
She looked at him adoringly, he looked at her the way a Dad looked at his only daughter and the warm glow of the birthday candles lit their faces perfectly. She hadn’t noticed the birthday cake yet. No one could’ve guessed the chaos it would create—frosting on walls, laughter echoing, memories destined to outlive the house. The little girl in the photo only knew joy and love and the film immortalized the first house she knew. She learned how to skate on the pond in the backyard. She welcomed the geese home every spring. She talked to her imaginary friends underneath the birch trees.
I stared at the photo in the gold frame on my desk and wondered if I could go back again and do it all again, would I?
My focus shifted to the blinking text cursor of the email subject line. I began typing the email I had been avoiding all week.
Formal Resignation
Good Morning Sheila,
I hope this email finds you well. I am following up on our previous conversation regarding my resignation from my current position with The Homeward Bound Community team.
I shut the laptop and looked out the two windows of the corner office. Had I completely lost my mind? Was I really about to quit my job? Why did I book a non-refundable ticket?
I looked at the photograph of me and my Dad again and silently thanked my Mom for taking the best photos. A younger me had trimmed the photo too small for the frame, leaving awkward gaps around the edges of the frame it called home. If I picked up my phone and called my Dad what would he say? He would answer the phone with a rehearsed “Hello” without knowing who was on the other end because he never looked at the caller ID. His voice would inevitably soften when he heard mine.
He would be multi-tasking and tell me about his current project in the workshop that only he could navigate. To a stranger, his workshop would resemble a chaotic assortment of tools stored without rhyme or reason but he knew where everything was and why.
Two years since the call. Mom’s voice, trembling but steady, had shattered the world I thought I knew. ‘Honey, you need to come home.’ I knew in the first breath that my trip was ending. I came home shortly after and pretended everything was fine for five months and thirteen days. The doctor had given him six months, but he still enjoyed a cheeky cigar when Mom wasn’t around, which shortened his time by seventeen days.
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2025.01.21 10:57 SinancoTheBest Why did the country representatives sit like they have Jojo's stands
 | submitted by SinancoTheBest to pics [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 10:57 natashige Finally managed to land a smothered mate!
 | https://www.chess.com/live/game/122273916402 submitted by natashige to chessbeginners [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 10:57 romanticchic MotoSport Lights & Electrical Coupon Code
Click the link for MotoSport Lights & Electrical Coupon Code. Save some money by selecting one of the current promo codes or coupons on that page. That page is updated regularly with the latest coupons, promo codes, and deals. Take advantage of the discounts by selecting one to use.
submitted by romanticchic to ScreenDore [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 10:57 softcol Serratia in new starter
Hi good sourdough people,
I've been growing Buckteef for 4 weeks, she's gluten free (buckwheat + teff) and was growing nicely with a great dome and honeycomb structure whilst in a glass bowl and using a stainless steel spoon to mix. I then transferred to a jar and plastic spatula and she started growing less well and I didn't see that nice honeycomb texture. She's smelt alcoholic for about 2 weeks, which I thought was normal. For the past week the smell was like acetone. Today she had a pink layer on top which I guessed was SM so I've thrown away.
I thought SM was caused by underfeeding but I've been doing two feeds a day at 50/50 buckwheat/water. I didn't check the ratio against the starter so wonder if I haven't been discarding enough. Also, the SM emerged today after I changed the jar yesterday for the first time in a week.
I want to try again, this time will be Buckwheat only. Any suggestions for what could have caused SM given it definitely wasn't underfed? Maybe bottled water instead of tap? Any advice appreciated.
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2025.01.21 10:57 ReggieReg2019 My grandfather fought in WW2, screw this going high mess, I think its time to slay Nazis again.
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2025.01.21 10:57 Jazzlike_Equal4142 National champions. The Ohio State University
 | submitted by Jazzlike_Equal4142 to beadedcreationsLc [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 10:57 CurlyWurly262 TfL how to get refund - overcharged with duplicate journeys
Hi all,
I’ve been overcharged 3x times in the last week with my commute. They have somehow duplicated my journey so I’ve paid twice for 3 journeys.
The website still is down and doesn’t allow me to claim a refund. I’ve tried finding a number to call to claim a refund with no luck.
Can anyone provide contact details to get a refund?
Note- I’m using contactless and will be moving back to oyster because of this!
submitted by CurlyWurly262 to LondonUnderground [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 10:57 BlushChronicles NRI Man Arrested After Alleged Assault Over Parking Dispute in Canada
 | submitted by BlushChronicles to ThatsInsane [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 10:57 jvc72 Buy Signal Cadeler AS - 21 jan 2025 @ 11:39 -> NOK56.30
Ticker: CADLR.OL
Exchange: OSL
Time: 21 jan 2025 @ 11:39
Price: NOK56.30
Link: https://getagraph.com/OSL/stock/live-signals/CADLR.OL/ENG
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2025.01.21 10:57 TurbulentZombies Pilates curvy testalkattal
Sziasztok lányok!
Nagyon szeretnék elkezdeni reformer pilatesre járni, de aggódom, hogy egyszerűen “nem illek oda” a testalkatom miatt (M-L méretet hordok, 165 cm vagyok és kb 75 kg).
Mik a tapasztalataitok, szoktak járni “husisabb” lányok is? Lehet, hogy ez egy a fejemben teljesen rosszul felépített kép, de az összes pilates stúdió social felületein csak nagyon csinos vékony lányok vannak a képeken/videókon, és annyira szorongok emiatt😣
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2025.01.21 10:57 gabe_watch A limited edition for today
 | submitted by gabe_watch to JapaneseWatches [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 10:57 violaisthecure Що думаєте про ринок праці в Україні?
Усе сказано в заголовку: роскажіть, що ви думаєте про ситуацію на ринку праці наразі або про його майбутні перспективи? Також буду радий почути ваші історії працевлаштування.
submitted by violaisthecure to Ukraine_UA [link] [comments]
2025.01.21 10:57 Rebellaz Need help with identifying!
 | I never bought them, guess they hitchhiked with the last plants I bought 😂 I have 2 adult rabbit snails and 2 babies… will they get along? I tried to do a google search, and they look like ramhorn but I’m not sure 😅 submitted by Rebellaz to freshwatersnails [link] [comments] |
2025.01.21 10:57 Theoskaroskar Sunrise, sunset and length of day stats for Cayo Santa Maria Cuba
 | submitted by Theoskaroskar to cayosantamaria [link] [comments] |