Fun fact: Gus's men killed Arturo with a bag over his head so they wouldn't have to look at his haircut
2025.01.23 09:47 bathwaterpantaloon Fun fact: Gus's men killed Arturo with a bag over his head so they wouldn't have to look at his haircut
 | submitted by bathwaterpantaloon to okbuddychicanery [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 AcanthisittaTiny1616 Offers?
 | submitted by AcanthisittaTiny1616 to BloxFruitsTrades [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 naiadoesfitness Conditional Formatting issue
 | Hi everyone, Extremely new to Power BI so please bear with me. I have a dashboard with a matrix table listing clients names, how many visits were available and how many were used (simple calculated column in the spreadsheet file of available minus missed). The latter in the dashboard is a quick measure for Divided, formatted to percentage. I then used conditional formatting under "Format your visual > Cell Elements" to bring any value equal or above to 90% to be green. Problem: cells containing values above 89.99% to 100% are randomly not green https://preview.redd.it/g31e1uedspee1.png?width=1174&format=png&auto=webp&s=5f3d8c7e4a7c4cc1ec9f8fbe29d7d5ca341bb26d submitted by naiadoesfitness to PowerBI [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 YouFoolWarrenIsDead Fork Recommendations
submitted by YouFoolWarrenIsDead to mountainbiking [link] [comments]
2025.01.23 09:47 adulting4kids Ten Days Until 2024!
- Craft a New Year's Eve story where your character receives a magical timepiece counting down to midnight, but instead of signaling the end of the year, it reveals glimpses of significant moments from their future, inspiring them to embrace the uncertainties of the upcoming year.
- Set a tale in a bustling city on New Year's Eve, where your character, a street artist, uses their craft to capture the hopes and dreams of passersby, unknowingly becoming a catalyst for positive change and connection within the community.
- Develop a narrative where your character, attending a New Year's party, discovers a series of enchanted masks that allow wearers to see the true desires of others, leading to unexpected connections, revelations, and a night of profound personal insight.
- Craft a New Year's story where your protagonist, inheriting an old family tradition of releasing lanterns at midnight, learns about the power of letting go, forgiveness, and starting anew as they watch their lantern float among countless others in the night sky.
- Set a New Year's Eve narrative in a magical realm where time operates differently, allowing your character to meet versions of themselves from past and future years, leading to a journey of self-reflection, acceptance, and the understanding that growth is an ongoing process.
- Develop a story in which your character, during a New Year's retreat, encounters a guide who introduces them to the concept of "time capsules for the soul," prompting the protagonist to reflect on and bury symbolic items representing their past, present, and future aspirations.
- Craft a tale set in a cozy bookstore on New Year's Eve, where your character stumbles upon a dusty volume containing personalized predictions for the upcoming year, setting them on a quest to decipher the cryptic messages and navigate the challenges and opportunities that await.
- Create a New Year's narrative where your character, attending a multicultural celebration, becomes part of a collective storytelling tradition, sharing personal anecdotes and dreams with strangers, fostering a sense of community, empathy, and shared humanity.
- Set a story during a New Year's camping trip, where your character discovers an ancient ritual involving planting seeds under the first full moon of the year, leading to unexpected growth and transformation in both the natural and personal realms.
- Craft a New Year's Eve tale in a steampunk-inspired world where your character, gifted with a unique time-travel device, unintentionally visits various New Year's celebrations across different eras, gaining insights into the universal themes of hope, renewal, and human connection.
2025.01.23 09:47 YouFoolWarrenIsDead Fork Recommendations
submitted by YouFoolWarrenIsDead to mountainbiking [link] [comments]
2025.01.23 09:47 Daniele_Banchieri One shot build
 | Version: 0.1.52 submitted by Daniele_Banchieri to PlayTheBazaar [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 Correct-Ad7353 Leaded gasoline in Africa: from wide use to banned nearly everywhere in four years
 | submitted by Correct-Ad7353 to algeria [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 bartender_98 665404062743 add for raid
 | submitted by bartender_98 to PokemonGoRaids [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 Nec_Di_Nec_Domini Rules: Episode 3
Getting stabbed hurt.
Getting stabbed into another reality REALLY hurt.
"That! Rat! Basta…. Oh…” Tàvàs blinked a few times, taking in his surroundings.
Bleak, dark, damp, water dripping from a broken pipe or overflowing gutter. The air was disgustingly heavy with mould spores and the stench of ruin—not decay, though; the taste wasn't quite so mature. The buildings had been destroyed relatively recently: weeks to months, not days or years.
The people… the things his shout had attracted were far more concerning. Dressed in ragged uniforms and scrap armour, wearing bracelets and bangles of bone, and wielding weapons in various states of disrepair. Their bodies were misshapen and mutated, but the glow of their skin indicated either a healthy diet or an excess of radiation. Tàvàs really hoped it was the former as only some realities could repair genetic damage, and he didn't need to add cancers to his list of irritations.
Three of them were in the doorway, staring at him in confusion, which was the only thing keeping them rooted in place.
"I don't suppose you're friendly by any chance, are you?" Tàvàs asked, trying for his best winning smile. "Ah…" Tàvàs pursed his lips, the smile slipping as they raised their improvised weapons. "Well, it was worth a try."
Three-on-one was rarely fair, but Tàvàs had had innumerable lifetimes to master every form of combat thinking life could conceive. He drew himself up to height, a fluid motion of practised confidence and ease, moving smoothly through the stance to launch a bolt of force into their abdomens. By the time his mind caught up to his movements and he remembered that he was no longer in a reality with mystic magics; they were almost upon him.
The first one charged; its howl set every nerve in Tàvàs' body on edge, but it was a simple matter of using its momentum as leverage to launch it into the wall, tearing the weapon from its grasp as it flew. Something broke. Not the wall, probably a spine. The other two were upon him, but armed with the first attacker's primitive blade, the disparity in swordsmanship was insurmountable. Weaving a groaning web of rusted iron, he found openings and filled them with blood.
Tàvàs cursed his own stupidity: He could have charged them, seized the initiative, and quickly dispatched one, took its weapon and hacked the others to pieces, but no. His flair for the dramatic had lost him the initiative and left him scrambling. Had they been more disciplined or experienced, he likely would've been sent straight back to the Nexus, and embarrassingly quickly at that.
Deciding whether to remain in an empty room full of mould or not was a straightforward decision. Equally straightforward was an expeditious retreat given that in the next room, he found a mass of bloodstained clothing, personal effects, and ruined weapons. The inhabitants of the cesspit weren't just unfriendly to strange outsiders but apparently to everyone. He gingerly picked at the pile and cast a sour glance back at his would-be killers… they were masked; he was surrounded by rags… if he hunched and shuffled, he could pass as one of them.
Tàvàs barely suppressed his sigh, opting for a low groan to avoid another mouth full of airborne fungus. Gingerly picking through the mass of discarded, torn and bloodied clothing, he improvised something that approached the stylistic choices of the dead three. Idly, he wondered if they were a slave caste and if he was just setting himself up for a particularly unpleasant welcome by donning the mask. Yet, bereft of any other perspectives, he slid the crudely formed metal over his face and grunted in pain. Sure, metal spurs poked at him, but it was something more… a kind of hammering against the back of his mind, a perpetual running of fingernails of chalkboards… nothing debilitating but fantastically unpleasant.
It was, Tàvàs realised as he climbed yet another set of ladders, a sprawling ruin and largely underground. The realisation both improved his understanding and soured his disposition, as after twelve floors, he started to get bored of the endless climb. There was barely a conversation or interaction to break the monotony of searching for the next staircase, ladder, or passageway: The few other denizens barely spared him a passing glance. Blessed infrastructure… Though given that it was a cult he assumed it was most likely cursed but even the sight of cursed infrastructure was a welcome one. The hum of electricity, lights, music, chanting?
Chanting.
Ritualistic chanting.
It was, he had to admit, an alluring cadence. One that wordlessly spoke to the deepest parts of the human soul and condition. In most cases, he found ritual to be exhausting. Why was it that you couldn't get more than a couple people together without them coming up with something that invariably degrades into a cult? What broken piece of the human condition constantly creates endless ritual? More importantly: Why did he keep getting thrown into them? But there were new notes to this one. Something that might actually be worth experiencing, and, for Tàvàs, that was the only thing that mattered.
The chanting grew louder as he climbed. That was to be expected, but it took on a strange reverberation as though he was hearing it both with his ears and his mind… The echo grew louder, the reverberation grew deeper, the melody ever more unique. Only when he caught himself mimicking the chant, he tore the mask from his head. A wave of fresh sensations washed over him, as well as a pounding headache.
He hadn't realised how much of himself had been captured by the mask. How many sensations had been silenced and dulled, and how omnipresent the mental clawing had become. Sneering at the discarded metal, not that that would do anything, Tàvàs stripped out of his disguise and threw it atop the mask, wishing he could conjure a fireball for good measure.
Not that he wasn't going to investigate. It's just that he would do it of his own volition and not as the puppet of some Z-Grade mask. If he had been given the cult leader's mask and an occasional communion with their shadowy god, then he might have considered it. Being a cult leader was entertaining in its own right, and overthrowing the former dark god and becoming one himself was a power-tripping fantasy he was overdue to indulge in… It was a carousel of thoughts that occupied him until he stumbled out onto the surface, revelling in the cold grey light of a blocked sun and the, marginally, fresher air.
The cathedral, if it could be called that, was the least ruined and most intact building as far as Tàvàs could see. While that wasn't very far, given toppled spires and twisted cityscape blocking his view, it was still a testament to the cultists: they had a proper respect for their gods. Another point in their favour if he decided to overthrow their deity and take its place... or against them if their god was boring. Gaining entry, even if not through the front door, would mean leaving the shadows and into the sightlines of a large number of definitely hostile and questionably sane cultists.
A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. "Brother, " the voice was low, deep, and distorted. "Where is your mask?"
The lone figure was easily two heads taller than Tàvàs and wore a simple but carefully constructed mask polished to a dull sheen. Poor bastard. He was alone and not nearly hostile enough. A heavy blow to the gut, an elbow to the side of the head, a sweep of his legs, a brief pause to tear off the mask, and then without any sort of ceremony, Tàvàs smashed the man's head into the ground until it cracked.
"Sorry. But you were wearing it," Tavas said, already stripping the man. "You big dumb bastard," he added with vengeful glee. He wasn't stupid enough to put it on again, but having it over his shoulder would stop any awkward questions.
Reinvigorated with a sense of urgency, Tàvàs began to climb the rubble. While the cultists may have had the presence of mind to repair most of the cathedral, it was still a ruin surrounded by debris. Halfway along the length of the building and ten meters off the ground, Tàvàs found his access point: A scaffold. True, using a scaffold to enter a cathedral was a bit cliche. Still, cliches existed for a reason, and Tàvàs' curiosity had long since overwhelmed his melodramatic and artistic instincts. He scaled the scaffolding, crept along the half-repaired wall, slipped into the building proper and was greeted by a ghoulish sight.
There was a man.
There was a man who was chained to an altar.
There was a man who was chained to an altar surrounded by cultists.
While the inevitable human sacrifice was somewhat of a concern to Tàvàs and went a long way to removing any guilt he felt for his previous murders, that wasn't the greatest of his issues.
His greatest problem was that the man on the altar wore robes decorated with the same colours, patterns, and insignias as his erstwhile inquisitorial acquaintance.
"MOTHERFUCKER!" Tàvàs shouted as the Archipriest's knife descended into its victim.
In the eyes of several hundred cultists, Tàvàs quickly saw the reflection of a much more critical issue.
"Gods damn it all!" he swore.
Apparently, they did.
Whatever the cult had been trying to manifest did so with explosive severity. Tàvàs was launched from his perch back into the ruins. The air around him hummed with eldritch power and echoed with the cult's enraged roars. Vaguely aware there had been a city and having spent a few moments studying the layout of the cathedral and the buildings around it, Tàvàs ran in a direction he hoped was away.
Vaulting rubble and tearing through the cityscape, he was distantly aware that the destruction hadn't made the city any less depressing. There were no signs of wealth, of green, of life, of anything that would have softened the steel and concrete that currently simulated a forest. The air, at least, was rich. The extra oxygen eased his flight and the lungfuls of dust.
In the distance, he could hear the sound of explosions—no gunfire, just explosions. In a flight of equal parts fancy and desperation, he changed course towards the battle. He didn't hold out much hope for support per se; the Inquisitor's people were a prickly and unpleasant sort, but a dead officer would hopefully have better gear than the crude simulacrum of a rusty falx he'd picked up from the cultists.
They might also explode the people chasing him.
As he drew nearer to the sounds of the fighting, Tàvàs noticed a change in the cityscape. He was entering a district of some wealth, prosperity, commerce, and so… many… shrines. The signs of battle began to change as well. No longer just stripped and decomposing corpses, adding a macabre fertiliser to the concrete and rebar forest. Now there were fresh, unstripped corpses and an increasing number of vehicles as well as the shells of dead… things.
The closer he drew the more he could feel the battle. With every barrage of artillery that struck the ground, shockwaves rattled the air in his chest. A rattle in the chest was one thing, but the sudden plasma wash beside his head rattled his nerves. Of the two, the plasma wash and nerves were far more pressing.
Ducking behind a tank and slipping down a collapsed alleyway, Tàvàs thanked the gods of a different universe; so far, his impressions of this one had been somewhat dim, that they didn't have lasers. You could get lucky and dodge plasma, but dodging light… He'd only ever done that once as a god of shadows.
Weaving through the side streets and mountains of rubble he lost his pursuers and began an oblique approach to the battlefield. The corpses were fresh. Very fresh. Most of them were lying in pools of half-congealed blood. It had been a strange battle. At the beginning the attackers had spent time desecrating the dead but later, the ones Tàvàs was stepping over, they had simply been overrun.
One of the men, a hulking giant of a man, had died of… hopefully not the caustic burns which melted away the upper right side of his head. Grim, but Tàvàs quickly turned his attention to the armoured giant's equally giant weapon.
True, Tàvàs had no clue what it was. Whether it shot lasers or plasma or bullets or slugs or whatever, he had learned a universal principle on the battlefield: Mucho Cannones equates to Mucho Damagos. A bit of scavenging, a touch of looting, a flirtation with daylight robbery, and Tàvàs had managed to find a couple full magazines for the weapon. Thus armed, he finally felt ready to un-summon a demon. He winced as he hefted the weapon, clearly designed for vehicles, fixed positions, or, as the case was, giants.
Having finally had enough time to gather himself and his thoughts, Tàvàs' natural instincts returned in full. He could have entered the battlefield and directly joined the fray on the side of whomever the cultists were fighting, but that was far too pedestrian. The symphony of battle was in full swing.
The Percussion: Artillery
The Brass: Gunfire
The Wind: Mortal Screams
The Strings… Tàvàs clicked his tongue in annoyance as he climbed a building that overlooked the action. Standing alone on the rooftop, he saw absolute bedlam. Any semblance of organisation had faded from the battle in the square. Infantry fired lasers and plasma from behind breastworks and sandbags into what seemed to be an unending horde of… things. Not quite human, not entirely alien, wholly aberrant to any creature with an appreciation of beauty or grace.
Tàvàs shed his robe, removed his shirt, tore a strip from his robe, tied it around his forehead and, as soon as the previous artillery barrage ended, channeled the disgust and hatred of his only acquaintance in this reality: "DIE XENOS SCUM!"
Righteous fury and vengeance erupted from the barrels of Tàvàs' requisitioned cannon, and a wall of plasma shells tore into the abominations. He could feel the eyes of infantry and the cultists follow the explosive trail of death, and he basked in it. It would have been more satisfying with a gunpowder weapon: the sound, the recoil, the smell, the casings flying through the air… it was a lot more pleasurable than the relative silence of his plasma blaster. But at least he had the adulation of the crowd.
Between his hail of death, sustained artillery fire, and the emergence of reinforcements from beyond the walls at the far end of the square, the unrelenting flood of abominations began to thin and slow. Far from defeated, the cultists joined the battle with them. Tàvàs could see larger, grotesque creatures. Things that were not just ungainly and ugly… they exuded an all-pervasive sense of wrongness. Tàvàs could feel the bile rising in his throat the longer he stared.
A shriek echoed from overhead, and a winged creature descended towards Tàvàs, who raised his weapon and began to fire. Half the shells winked out of existence, the other half washed over some eldritch shielding. Tàvàs briefly contemplated drawing the rusty falx and facing off with the flying thing in melee. Futile… in all likelihood. But it would have been glorious. Trading blows with an eldritch horror from another dimension! Beautiful.
Blinded by the plasma wash, the creature landed heavily on the building. Ultimately, the building decided for Tàvàs by promptly collapsing under the weight of the newest occupant. Disarmed and riding the wave of rubble, Tàvàs made contact with the horror, landing in a symbolic punch before sprinting towards the trenches. There was a point where dramatic heroism crossed paths with unrepentant stupidity.
Disarmed and half-naked, Tàvàs fully expected to be met by a barrage of gunfire as soon as he emerged from the cloud of dirt and dust, but once again, his cathedral curse came back to haunt him. The gods damned it all, and the world around him exploded in a haze of shells. The defenders had concentrated all their firepower on the ruins of the building, intent on pulverising it and the flying horror.
Somewhere in the cloud and deafening blasts, Tàvàs heard another sound: Something soul-shearing. Every nerve in Tàvàs' body burned, his blood felt as though it was boiling, and his skin tried to strangle him while his bones and muscles wanted nothing more to erupt from his body. Only the force of a will perfected over aeons kept him staggering forward and tumbling into a trench.
Covered in mud, blood, and gore, whatever sentiments Tàvàs had had about a dramatic entrance were replaced with the rote desire to have an entrance… or even just to find the physical entrance and bang upon that. It was undoubtedly one of his more hectic entrances into a new old reality. All around him were men in various states of distress. Some were paralysed, others writhed in agony, while the majority were too busy vomiting their guts or screaming at things only they could see to pay him much mind.
Emerging from the trenches, Tàvàs couldn't help but crack a smile at the severe expression and the man to whom it belonged.
"Inquisitor Di'Ryven!" Tàvàs cried, arms stretched wide as though he were welcoming the Inquisitor.
"Traveller Tàvàs." Di' Ryven said, eyes narrowed and distrusting. "What are you doing here."
"You wound me, sir!" Tàvàs grinned, gripping his chest. "I thought we got past all that last time."
"That was years ago." Di' Ryven said flatly, hand resting on his hammer.
"Years?"
"Yes."
"Really?! How long?"
"Twenty One Standard Months"
"Twenty… THAT'S NOT EVEN TWO YEARS!" Tàvàs shouted
"It's more than a year making the plural perfectly acceptable." Di' Ryven's face twitched slightly "I would have thought that's the level of pedantry you'd appreciate Traveller."
"I…" Tàvàs blinked, coughed, and chuckled.
"Nevertheless." Di' Ryven continued, voice and face hardening again, "Why are you here? From what I understood, you had neither the desire nor the ability to return. Your timing hardly engenders faith."
"Funny story that." Tàvàs winced "I don't suppose you met another of my kind in the past two years?"
"Your kind?!" Another Inquisitor demanded, stepping forward with righteously murderous intent.
Di' Ryven waved him down. "No."
"Well, he met some of you…"
"How?"
"I stabbed him."
"You…" Di' Ryven groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Am I to assume this will be equally as surreal as our last meeting?"
"You've met this… creature before?" A fourth Inquisitor demanded
"And I was investigated and cleared for it." Di' Ryven spat, the venom silencing his peers.
"Nah, nah, nah. Long story short, when we return to the Nexus, we can take a shard of time with us. It's an echo of the reality we were in. I took one and, well... One of my peers had spent too long outside of time, so… I stabbed him and sent him careening into your reality."
"Ah…" Di' Ryven nodded, his eyes void of any understanding.
"Well, it turns out that your people tortured him and turned him into some murderous cyborg weapons platform…?"
"Ah!" Di' Ryven nodded, finally understanding at least one facet of the conversation: "All may serve… even if only as augmented auxiliaries. The conversion process is excruciatingly painful, as is service."
"Augmented auxiliaries…" Tàvàs shook his head. "Anyway, he was rather upset about the whole augmented auxiliaries business, so once I returned to the Nexus, he stabbed me and sent me back here, which…Ehhhh… Fair enough." Tàvàs shrugged. "I probably should have thought things through a bit more before I stabbed him the first time around."
"I see…" Di' Ryven exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And why are you HERE?"
"In this specific particular time and this place within the broader reality?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I have no fucking clue."
"You…" If the poor Inquisitor could become any more exasperated, Tàvàs couldn't imagine it. "Shall I shoot you and be done with it, then?"
"As much as I'd like to be free of… Well… This," Tàvàs gestured at the ruins, craters, and slowly recovering soldiers. "If I don't do my penance as it were, Kyrian is just going to keep fucking with me so." Tàvàs shrugged again. "I guess I'm at your disposal until I die in the line of duty or whatever."
"That is…" Di' Ryven shook his head before abruptly stopping, staring at Tàvàs, and slowly starting to nod. "I suppose things can't get any worse, and you have had an eternity to learn the art of war. Very well. I'll find some use for you."
"Excellent!" Tàvàs grinned. "Now, if you don't mind. This look was a lot of fun, but I'm cut, bruised, battered, cold, and as much fun as it was running from cultists and shooting at things, I'd really much rather prefer to know what's actually going on."
"You’ll be provided for from the dead." Di' Ryven said, "And come with me. I'll ensure you're properly put to use."
______________________________________________
That as they say, is that.
So for the sake of making it clearer which reality Tàvàs is in I'm going to divide things into episodes with each ranging from 1 to several chapters long. Basically until Tàvàs dies, is executed, or does something suicidally dramatic. Now that the two have met up: let the mayhem begin?
submitted by Nec_Di_Nec_Domini to HFY [link] [comments]
2025.01.23 09:47 shoyooo Planning road trip from Houston to Philly next week. Is the weather gonna be a problem for the roads?
Never done a road trip before, and I'm not even the one driving. Longest car ride I've ever been in was like 5 hours. Looking for some advice for someone who has little idea what I'm doing. I have a few main concerns.
First, the recent winter storm that hit the southern and eastern US. It seems like it passed for the most part, but will there be any risk of driving on the roads about a week from now? My idea is that the roads might still be a little hazardous, so I wanted to try to limit the long distance driving to about 5 to 6 hours a day. That way we have time to stop somewhere to eat and not have to drive in unfamiliar roads during the night. So the drive would take about 5 days to get to Philly.
My other main concern is making sure where we do end up staying for the night is safe, but I feel like I can figure that out by researching on the state/city subreddits. Regardless, any advice would be appreciated.
submitted by shoyooo to NoStupidQuestions [link] [comments]
2025.01.23 09:47 android_tests_pac Edit comment adding giphy test for 23/1/2025 09:46:25
submitted by android_tests_pac to LssAutomation [link] [comments]
2025.01.23 09:47 Yveliad Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince MBS Tells Trump He Wants to Invest $600 Billion in U.S.
 | submitted by Yveliad to worldnews [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 Realistic-Lie-8031 The Swiss carbon footprint is among the highest in the world
 | submitted by Realistic-Lie-8031 to Switzerland [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 HandicapMafia Grab your Lederhosen Tom, it's about to get Nazi Germany up I'm this bitch
 | Guttentag Mein Ubermensch! submitted by HandicapMafia to SpaceXMasterrace [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 kaltzohne A new Track , wide country (Dub Tech)
 | submitted by kaltzohne to Dubtechno [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 throwawayea3 AIO for thinking that my friend (F25) is interested in my boyfriend (M26)?
Sorry I don't have any screenshots for this as most of this happened irl. For some background, I've known her for over 2 years, and I've been with him for just around 2 years. She used to be one of my closest friends, until I started noticing some things. She started dressing more provocatively and doing her makeup even when we were just hanging out at home, one of those times my bf wasn't home and she asked abt him and told me to say hi to him like 5 times that night. At another point she told me that he had sent her some reels and that she was excited to have a male friend and that she had to send him good reels. That's all fine, except in the past she had told me that she didn't like when people sent her reels cause she has no time to watch them, she ignored a few group chats with mutual friends when we sent reels, and overall didn't consider it good communication. Anyway, then we had some event together and her mom showed up, and she very excitedly pointed at my boyfriend and said "ah so this must be /name/". I had never met her before, but she was more excited to see my bf than me, her daughter's close friend.
This is when I started connecting the dots, and I also realized that she's probably a narcissist and I simply do not like her as a person. Every time we hang out, she just talks about herself 90% of the time, and in the 10% when someone else starts speaking, she interrupts them and then laughs about their reaction. She has no empathy and views everything through the prism of money and power, and often says things to kind of put me down, and not just me but some mutual friends as well. She acts like she's interested in what people have to say, like one time when she asked my bf to explain an action figure collection he had, but then after like 10 minutes she couldn't even remember the name of the collection, which is a pretty simple name. She's told me that she changes her personality with everyone, and at the time I thought she was just being adaptable, but now I'm realizing that she's just manipulative and wants everyone to like/admire her.
Anyway, that brings us to yesterday. I was out for dinner with my bf and a mutual friend, another girl that she often puts down even tho she's her "best friend". She happened to call at that time, and the other friend told us that she's out with us. I guess she couldn't handle that, so she asked her to pass the phone to my bf. We were all shocked by it cause they're not actually that close, but yeah after a short awkward convo my boyfriend told us that she asked if he's offended by the "dark humor" reels that she sends him. Dark humor in this case being holocaust and racist jokes I guess... My boyfriend does not like dark humor, but the thing is, neither does she. Both me and our mutual friend were shocked as well because she's never sent us anything like that, in fact she's probably even spoken against it. My bf just kinda ignores those reels and in general doesn't send her much nowadays because I told him about my concerns, so I guess she felt offended that he's ignoring her lmao. Also, she's sent him sport reels as well, and he's not into any sports. I think she just thought that this was what guys like, sports and being offensive, so she tried to get closer to him in that way? Idk it's very dumb, but I really have no other way to explain it. We haven't been very close lately and tbh I want to cut her off completely just for having a personality that I really don't like, but idk if I'm overreacting about this part or not.
submitted by throwawayea3 to AmIOverreacting [link] [comments]
2025.01.23 09:47 EncantoFan132 To those who are feeling down, please remember this..
 | submitted by EncantoFan132 to teenagers [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 Best-Ad-5053 JST To POLYGON USDT
 | submitted by Best-Ad-5053 to CryptoPetra [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 polaroidpola511 Secondhand bookstores with Japanese lit options
Sa secondhand bookstores kasi, mapaonline or physical stores, madalas ang western authors. May marereco ba kayo na may frequent stocks ng asian lit especially Japanese novels? Thank you!
Online sellers reco too are welcome!
submitted by polaroidpola511 to PHBookClub [link] [comments]
2025.01.23 09:47 DevelopingSoftware Is there a way to have the phone screen not turn on when I get a new notification?
Thank you in advance!
submitted by DevelopingSoftware to OnePlus13 [link] [comments]
2025.01.23 09:47 Wise_Cabinet_7819 HELP??
 | WHAT IS THIS CRITTER I FOUND IT ON A PICREW submitted by Wise_Cabinet_7819 to Confused [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 Comic-Explorer (untitled)
 | I made this in eeve after following a yt tutorial. Roast me. submitted by Comic-Explorer to blender [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 2212214 Why nursing union lacks bargaining power
 | submitted by 2212214 to NursingAU [link] [comments] |
2025.01.23 09:47 Late-Elderberry-1320 Supermarkt schickt mir Absage weil ich mal für Zenjob bei Ihnen gearbeitet habe??
Hallo, Ich hab mich gestern bei meinem Lieblingssupermarkt beworben, da ich dort über Zenjob (Zeitarbeit) vereinzelt 6 Schichten gearbeitet habe und es mir unglaublich gefallen hat. Ein Mitarbeiter dort meinte er hatte auch erst über Zenjob angefangen und hat dann eine Initiativbewerbung geschickt und arbeitet seitdem als Minijobbler dort..
Jetzt hab ich mich auch beworben und die 6 Schichten angegeben. Im Lebenslauf hatte ich von Oktober 23-jetzt Zenjob angegeben, da ich ja ab und zu Schichten dort arbeite (aber nicht immer beim Lieblingssupermarkt, da war ich zuletzt vor 2 Monaten).
Jetzt hab ich eine Absage bekommen, weil ich über Zenjob schon bei Ihnen arbeite und das dann nicht ginge.
Glaubt ihr die haben das einfach falsch verstanden? Sollte ich das richtigstellen oder wär das eh egal, weil dass denen dann schon von Anfang an zu kompliziert mit mir wäre :D? Also klarstellen oder einfach sein lassen? Geht das überhaupt?
submitted by Late-Elderberry-1320 to Ratschlag [link] [comments]