Any pharmaceutical commercial
2025.01.27 04:21 blueeyeddevil27 Any pharmaceutical commercial
The big pharmaceutical ads are just getting worse and worse, seriously who watches any of these commercials and says yeah, I need that drug
submitted by blueeyeddevil27 to CommercialsIHate [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 Lixzyy How do put the trade harbor?
 | I’ve been playing for a while (2 Years!?) It won’t let me place it? Please all help is welcome. submitted by Lixzyy to CookieRunKingdoms [link] [comments] |
2025.01.27 04:21 Ill_Armadillo_3514 Gigil Ako sa mga taong hindi buo ang message kung mag-chat! 😡
 | submitted by Ill_Armadillo_3514 to MayNagChat [link] [comments] |
2025.01.27 04:21 TheJoker1107 Should I Quit 76?
Should I Quit 76?
after playing this game for so long, trading and trading, spending money to enjoy the game, looting, meeting new people, getting better and better every-time i play, i was loving this game, but recently, i was trading here on reddit and i was offered a trade i simply couldn’t say no to. this trade ended up with me losing all my years of trading putting me back at the very bottom. ever since i can’t be compelled to turn the game back on, i just feel like everytime i turn the game on i’m reminded of where i was and what happened and where i’m at now, so the question is, should i finally put down 76 for the final time? or should i start from the very bottom of the trading ladder and spend all this time climbing it once more?
submitted by TheJoker1107 to Market76 [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 MorningJogger WTF has she seen?
 | submitted by MorningJogger to FortNiteBR [link] [comments] |
2025.01.27 04:21 pollypocketwanna Looking for Support - No Judgment Please
Hey all! I'm reaching out because I need a little support and a safe space to share my thoughts.
I currently have 7 month-old di/di twins, and despite going through a rough pregnancy-severe sickness in the first 3 months, gestational hypertension in the third trimester which led to me having to be induced at 37 weeks, dealing with fatty livepossible HELLP syndrome—| find myself in a bit of a situation.
My husband and I were intimate last week right around ovulation, and while I took Plan B, I may have missed the mark. Now, there's a real chance I could be pregnant again. I know the recommendation is to wait 12-18 months before another pregnancy after twins, but... is it bad that, despite everything ! went through, I kind of want to keep this baby if I am pregnant?
I just need to hear from others who have been through something similar. No judgment, just support. Has anyone else had back to back pregnancies after twins? How did it go for you? How did your body handle it? Was the second pregnancy easier, harder, or about the same? Did you experience more complications the second time around? How did you manage caring for your babies while being pregnant? If you had a high-risk pregnancy before, did your doctors approach the next one differently? How did your mental and physical recovery go after delivering again so soon? Any advice for someone possibly going through this?
submitted by pollypocketwanna to BabyBumps [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 Sea-Albatross1366 Pisces F here: How would you know if a Leo M likes you?
Sorry for being so clueless. It’s my first time with a Leo M. But I just wanted to know the signs that he likes you 😅 tyia
submitted by Sea-Albatross1366 to LeoAstrology [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 pudditinme Sky's da limit (sdl)
Does anyone know if sdl jeans (sky's da limit) fit the same as Levi's 501s? I thought Abt buying some but I don't want to buy the wrong size.
submitted by pudditinme to LeviStrauss [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 friendlyb1tch Do I have to reapply for OSAP?
I started my program May 2024. The past three semesters I have attended are all considered part of the same academic year. If I need OSAP again for my last semester, do I need to reapply since it is a new academic year?
submitted by friendlyb1tch to osap [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 Next-Impression-9509 Joystick Gremlin - map to game or keyboard
I gave up on Thrustmaster TARGET and using joystick gremlin which is way better.
Is it better to map the joystick to keyboard presses, or map the joystick buttons directly in the game?
submitted by Next-Impression-9509 to hoggit [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 bigdogdame92 The best melee build if it did more damage. Not sure if this is better now though
 | submitted by bigdogdame92 to MinecraftDungeons_2 [link] [comments] |
2025.01.27 04:21 IronandLed I don't give a daaaayum like smokey said lol if nobody likes me and if there's one or 2 people who do, that's all I need. I'm not a damn celebrity.
submitted by IronandLed to gangstagangsta [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 Ramzy191 Chiefs vs Bills Rivalry in NBA terms
 | submitted by Ramzy191 to KansasCityChiefs [link] [comments] |
2025.01.27 04:21 Klomix26 Would anyone be able to help me with the Melodie event please?
Please any help would be greatly appreciated Was told to post this here
submitted by Klomix26 to BrawlStarsCompetitive [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 StriderDB Anyone else not able to log into RBC on their computers??
When ever I try to log into RBC on my computer, I'm getting the error
"Warning: Potential Security Risk Ahead, Firefox detected a potential security threat and did not continue to www.rbcroyalbank.com"
Anyone else having this issue, or is it just me?
submitted by StriderDB to PersonalFinanceCanada [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 Lilyyy_15 I feel like my neighbor is going to start retaliating..
I’ve lived in my apartment for 6 months. About a month or two into moving in, I noticed my neighbor plays heavy bass/EDM all day and into the night. It’s LOUD. To the point where my walls are vibrating. When my partner & I work from home, we have to wear headphones. I’ve never wanted to approach her, because she has never come off as super friendly. I’ve said hi to her 2-3 times and she ignores me. I’ve heard what appears to be her gf or friend arguing and I just don’t get good vibes. I’m also not confrontational at all and have been scared of dealing with any drama from her.
Last week, the girl who shares the other wall with her approached me and asked if I ever hear her music. She said how frustrated she is & said she’s complained multiple times and nothing ever happens. Finally, I said something to my management company. I sent a professional email with several videos of the noise. They said they can’t do anything with the videos. They have to verify the noise themselves and to call them when they hear it.
Fast forward to today, her bass is ridiculous, so I finally call management. They said they would send an email and send someone over. 30 minutes later, I receive a complaint against me saying I have a ring camera and we’re not allowed to have them & I need to take it down. I didn’t realize that was in my lease, so I took it down (despite my neighbor also having a ring camera, and hers is still up). 30 minutes after that, I get another complaint against me- a noise complaint saying my dogs bark nonstop. This is absolutely untrue. I have older dogs, who will bark if someone one knocks on the door or if someone is loud outside our door, but will stop after a minute or so. I also have a dog camera inside my house and can show that my dogs do NOT bark all day. My partner and I also work from home, so we know this isn’t true.
I’m just like howwww coincidental I get TWO complaints right after I say something about her music. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. Now I feel like she has it out for me and I hope it doesn’t escalate any further than this.
submitted by Lilyyy_15 to neighborsfromhell [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 DriverManPepsi Regarding Mike: assuming she revealed her real age at 18, that means that the truth was avoided for 3 years straight -- i find that impossible.
have they talked about how and when the true age was revealed to them and the parents? for 3 years ther is 0 shot no one knew
submitted by DriverManPepsi to LolCowLive [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 InformationFew2526 Had this come up on my google news...???
Why Elon Musk’s XRP connection could revolutionise digital finance
Izvor: Dimsum Daily https://search.app/M7Br
submitted by InformationFew2526 to XRP [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 radio_mice A perfectly normal outfit to be blackmailed in! (Baltimore Blues by Laura Lippman)
 | submitted by radio_mice to menwritingwomen [link] [comments] |
2025.01.27 04:21 Aminoacyl-tRNA [MEGATHREAD] Discussion surrounding the NIH and the state of affairs
Hello labrats community,
As we all know, there have been considerable changes to US policy both within and outside of the realm of the scientific community since the transition to the new administration. In particular, many of us here are particularly concerned about the complete erasure and abolishment of DEIA initiatives, as well as the external communication ban currently imposed on agencies under the HHS umbrella.
While we have the strong desire to remain an apolitical sub, these drastic changes have a profound affect on most of us in the community and are issues worthy of discussing. This megathread provides a hub for users in the community to have discussions with colleagues about these issues, as well as posting salient updates during an ever evolving situation.
Please direct all posts regarding any of these topics to this megathread from now on. Any posts outside of the megathread will be removed and we will encourage you to repost them here. While this discussion is certainly of political nature, we still forbid ad hominem attacks on individuals, particularly politicians, regardless of how much we disagree with them. Such comments will be removed and further action may be taken.
Any questions, comments, or concerns should be directed towards the labrats moderation team using modmail.
submitted by Aminoacyl-tRNA to labrats [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 SilentHillLuver 24f - shy brunette looking for someone who understands me!!
Umm I feel like I have a hard time making friends or finding people I have things in common with! Maybe I’m slightly autistic idk lol. I turn 25 in 2 weeks so I barely qualify to put 24 as my age ^ and just a fair warning, I do have abandonment issues .so please don’t be really fun and cool…just to ghost!! I just want friends. From BC Canada 🇨🇦 I’m down to listen to you yap
submitted by SilentHillLuver to MakeNewFriendsHere [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 eap9711 Best places to get used Marvel legends in Houston area ?
submitted by eap9711 to MarvelLegends [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 ArgiopeAurantia Nothing To Report
"Tell me you're from the Midwest without telling me you're from the Midwest."
The click of a lighter snapped me back to reality, and I suddenly felt the spatter of rain on my face again. A cloud of foul roll-up smoke drifted across the street.
"Huh?" I said, eyes darting to the left. My neighbor gazed at me from her balcony, eyes hooded.
"Thunderstorms," she said, inhaling again. "You can always tell when we get them out here. Everybody who's actually from Seattle stays inside, but if you come from somewhere else you're outside staring as soon as the first flash of lightning hits. I'm from Iowa. Where are you from?"
"Indiana," I answered, as the sky lit up with another bright flash. "Southern Indiana." I took a deep pull from my bottle of wine.
"I knew it!" she said, soft smoke pouring from her smile. "We all love the rain. The real rain, not the mist you usually get out here."
"I wouldn't say I love it. I just feel compelled to watch it."
"Or that," she agreed. "We feel connected to thunderstorms, though, in a way that people from here don't."
I couldn't disagree. I certainly felt connected to thunderstorms, though I wouldn't say I missed them. One of the many reasons I found myself here, so very far from the forests and creek bottoms of home, had been how infrequent real rainstorms used to be before climate change started ramping up. But they did draw me out, every time the sky crashed white and angry. After all, a thunderstorm had made me what I am today. I couldn't say that that was a positive thing.
We stood in silence as the sky shuddered and crashed around us. Her smoke drifted slowly across my vision, and I sank back into the past.
*August 8th, 1988, Bloomington Herald-Telephone:
Authorities are seeking information in connection with the death of six-year-old Jeremy Schaffer, discovered on Sunday morning by the railroad tracks just outside city limits. Police say the boy was tied up and tortured for hours before his throat was slashed and he was left to bleed to death alone in the woods.
"I've never seen anything like it," reported officer Joel Clark, his hand pressed to his stomach. "He was just a little kid. That anybody could do this to an innocent little boy... There's no explanation for this."
Law enforcement is at a loss to explain the shocking scene. Local reporters were kept at a distance while police investigated, far behind the yellow crime scene tape which now surrounds the railway bridge to the south of town.
Any citizen with information that might lead to an arrest in this case is encouraged to come forth. The police have set up an anonymous tip line at (812)555-XXXX. For now, law enforcement remains baffled.*
I was eight years old that summer, still small enough to be entirely helpless, just big enough to begin to become aware of the fact. I was an only child, and a lonely child, because I was strange. I read too many books, used too many big words. I brought my stuffed cat, Kitty, to school with me. I was meat for the beast of the great social mill that grinds us all down, over time, into well-shaped little cogs for the vast machine of Society. I didn't understand how to be anything else. And it wasn't in any of the other children's interest to help me.
So as I trundled along the railroad tracks that afternoon on my way home from school, my first instinct wasn't exactly excitement when I heard my name shouted from just up ahead. "Jackie! Hey, Jackie!" My stick-skinny little shoulders tensed. It sounded like Jessica, or maybe Casey, girls a whole grade ahead of me. Whoever it was, I didn't think they had my best interests at heart. I hung my head and tried to ignore it, to walk by in silence. Maybe they'd let me go. I'd just gotten a new pair of glasses a month ago, and my parents would get angry if they had to pay for new ones. I stared at my cheap Velcro sneakers and plodded on, one foot after the other. Please just let me pass.
"Jackie, we know you can hear us! Come down here! We have something to show you!"
That voice I recognized. That voice belonged to Dustin, my longtime tormentor. I sighed, knowing there was no escape now, and turned my eyes to meet his.
His gap-toothed grin stretched wide as he beckoned me down the steep hill. "Come on," he said. "Quick. We found something really cool. You're going to want to see this." And despite the fact that I knew I wasn't, that anything the older children wanted to show me was likely to result in scuffed jeans and shredded skin at best, I went. I had, by now, already learned my place, and besides, I couldn't run away through my childhood asthma. Maybe it wouldn't hurt too much, this time. And I was already learning to go away in my head when it hurt too much anyway.
Slow and unwilling, I shuffled down the slope. Kevin and Casey and Mariah and Clint stepped out of the trees to meet me, grinning like sharks. "Hurry up," said Kevin. "We have to show you this."
I reached the bottom of the hill and stopped, still some six yards away. There was something sharp in Casey's smile, a glimmer in Mariah's green eyes, that cut through my childish resignation and struck a genuine alarm bell. "My mom and dad are waiting for me," I told them. "They know I was coming this way, and they'll be mad if I'm late." My voice quavered, and I quietly cursed the cowardice that had brought me this close. My mother and father didn't care where I was, they were both at work, and they wouldn't start searching until long after dark if I didn't come home that afternoon. But I finished the attempt anyway, in desperate hope: "They're probably already looking. They'll probably be here any minute."
"It's this way," said Dustin, ignoring my attempts at a graceful, safe exit. "Come on. You're going to want to see this." As he turned back toward the woods, the other four swarmed out to circle me, to drive me like sheepdogs, still grinning their pink grins, twelve or so permanent teeth between them.
I knew when I was beaten. I followed Dustin into the dim green tunnel of the treeline.
We started down a deer trail, the hungry pack nipping at my heels. No one spoke. We all knew we were beyond words now. I was theirs to do with as they would, and all I could do was hope it wouldn't end too badly.
After what felt like an hour, but couldn't have been nearly so long, Dustin said, "It's this way," and gripped my wrist, leading me off to the side. It was dark, this far into the trees, even in the summer slant of late afternoon. The hills rose brown around us, and the railway had swooped back to meet our path. A trestle hung far above, the bridge casting angular shadows over our faces. Dustin led me into a shallow cave, cool and dripping. "It's back here."
I followed, step by unwilling step, shoes sinking into the thick cave-mud as we left the light behind us. The earth sloped upward beneath my feet, and I slipped. Dustin tightened his grip on my forearm. "Almost there..."
And suddenly, inexplicably, there were stairs, and Dustin was pulling me up them into the darkness. We entered a chamber carved out of the rock. It was dim, lit only by thin greyness that filtered in from a vine-choked grating far overhead. I gazed up helplessly, and I saw that the sky boiled with clouds. A light rain began to patter down on us as Dustin drew me to the center of the room. I saw that someone had dragged an old metal chair there. And I saw a coil of rope laying on the ground.
Dustin smiled, the faded light glinting off his broad incisors. I heard Casey cough behind me. It almost sounded uncertain.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Dustin's voice was low, hypnotic. "We thought you would like it."
I glanced around me at the other children, eyes wide and rolling with fear. They kept to the shadows at the edges of the room, unsure. I thought I saw a question in Mariah's eyes as she shot a look toward Kevin, who moved back half a step. My labored breathing was the only sound besides the tapping of sullen, slow rain for a moment. But no one would meet my eyes.
I drew in a breath. I didn't know what I'd say, I only knew that this had gone very, very bad. The air hung heavy in the cavern.
Dustin spoke before I could, something harsh in his voice beyond what any nine-year-old should've been able to manage. It sounded like hunger. It sounded like the hunt. It sounded like the end of the world.
"Why don't you sit down, Jackie?" he whispered.
And the sky opened up. A blast of lightning and a burst of thunder hit at the same moment, knocking all of us to the ground. I rubbed my wrist where Dustin had gripped it white and backed away, slowly at first, then faster. The rain poured down through the grating above, and no one else moved as I pushed myself against the wall.
"I'm going home," I announced, and cursed myself silently. My voice was small and shaky, far from the defiance I'd hoped to project. I knew one of them was going to stop me at any second. But I turned, and I ran down the stairs and out of that cursed cavern. And none of them followed me.
None of them ever came after me as I fled through the shattering sky and the battering rain.
*
Two days later, Jeremy Schaffer's body was found in that chamber, twined in the ropes I'd so narrowly escaped. I didn't know him, of course-- what business would an eight-year-old have with a six-year-old? But none of us were allowed to walk home along the railroad tracks for the rest of the year.
I went back once, long after the crime scene tape was gone, chewed up by years of Southern Indiana wind and winters. Older, still alone, and now without the stuffed cat who waited at home on my bed. I'd learned, by then. I'd learned many things, most of them ugly. I was sixteen, and in high school. Dustin had moved on to tormenting other, smaller children after I grew six inches over one summer break. I was still gawky and weak, but I didn't present as enticing a target anymore. Among other ugly things, I'd learned to live with the fact that other children still did, just as long as I wasn't among them.
The air was stifling in the cavern, still in the golden afternoon. Water dripped somewhere in the background, drawing slow stalactites down from the ceiling grates high above. Nothing else moved. The chair was long gone, dragged off for crime scene research in some faraway police lab. All that remained were graffiti and beer cans, proof that even the darkest days gone by couldn't stop bored kids from finding a place to party.
I didn't really know why I'd come. I only knew that the place had haunted my dreams for years, and I'd finally felt compelled to come back. To seek clues? To look for answers the adult world hadn't been able to find? I couldn't say.
I poked in the debris with a handy stick, overturning snack wrappers and shreds of old newspaper. There was nothing here. Only emptiness, and the echoes of a dead child's last screams. I shivered as night came down over the woods outside. It was time to leave.
As I made my way slowly down the slippery staircase, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me. I whirled, peering back into the shadows, but nothing moved. Still, I wasn't willing to turn my back on the cavern. My eyes scoured the dimness as I backed away, one careful step at a time, until my feet found solid ground. Then I turned and dashed off into the encroaching night.
Two days later another child was reported missing. I didn't follow the story that time. It had nothing to do with me.
*
Not everyone did, but I got out. My weak frame housed a decent mind, and I slaved away at college application essays until I arrived at a decent scholarship to a university far away from my hometown. I wasn't sorry to leave.
Unfortunate as it is to report, I didn't miss my family much, and I'm afraid they didn't miss me either. I stayed on campus for my first winter break working a meaningless Facilities job to feed my scholarship, and that set the sequence of my college years. I stayed away, and nobody really minded. I made friends, dated a few people, some more seriously than others. I set up my own life far away from the Indiana bottomlands. It wasn't until years later, when my stepfather reached an extreme in his lengthy process of dying of lung cancer, that I returned for more than a long weekend.
Bloomington had changed considerably during my absence. The town had stretched westward and swallowed up a considerable portion of the woods I once spent time in. Downtown had edged nervously out of the comfortable hippie territory it had occupied for decades and blossomed into Starbucks and Chipotles, and it had developed a second strip of ethnic restaurants alongside the college campus. The newspaper had changed its name from the Herald Telephone to the Herald Times. There were vegan cafes. Progress was everywhere.
But some things hadn't changed. I ran into Mariah at Kilroy's one night, and we sank into the uneasy communion of former classmates who hadn't really liked each other much, but who were both tipsy enough to ignore that for the sake of a couple of comfortable shots.
"Remember Kevin?" she giggled, several drinks in. "He married Melissa Britton, of all people! They have three kids now, can you believe it?"
"Three? How? Were they triplets?" At age 24, three children seemed like an excess.
"Nope, just one after another. Two boys and one girl."
"I guess they still get along pretty well, then." Mariah guffawed, and I consciously held myself back from wincing. It really hadn't been that good a joke. But the bartender placed two more shots of whiskey in front of us, and I gamely carried on.
"And remember Emily Lawrence? We always thought she and Jacob would be together forever, but she ended up marrying Joe Walsh!" I did not in fact remember any of those people, and suspected that at this point Mariah had forgotten that we'd never been friends to begin with. But I smiled politely and slugged my Jim Beam.
"And Mary and Katie turned out to be lesbians", she whispered, wide-eyed, upending her own shot into her beer. "I mean we always knew they were both kind of weird, but I never expected that!"
I remembered again why I'd left, and signaled the bartender for another drink.
"What ever happened to Dustin?" I asked, as casual as possible, tracking her movements closely. She froze, only briefly, before she pulled a compact out of her purse and began checking her makeup. A long moment passed before she responded.
"Dustin's still around," she said. "He got a job at Cook. I haven't really talked to him for a while." She put her powder away and flicked her eyes toward the door. "Oh my God, is that Ashley?" she shrilled, and waved her hands. "Girl! Get over here! You'll never believe who's back in town!"
*
It was a long and pointless night, and, drunk as I was by the end, I found myself unable to sleep by the time I settled into my hotel bed. I picked my way randomly around the internet for a while, checking on headlines and social media, until I found myself hovering over a search box containing the words "Bloomington Indiana disappearances".
I didn't want to know, but I went ahead and clicked.
Behind the high-profile disappearance of a college girl a couple of years before, I found exactly what I'd expected. Seven children over sixteen years, each murder more vicious than the last. Authorities stumped, no evidence besides the poor fragile corpses. Nothing to hang an investigation on. I closed my laptop and sank into a profoundly dissatisfied sleep full of dripping grey light and cold caverns under the train tracks.
*
It's been twenty years, and eight more murders. I check occasionally, even now, from a thousand miles away. Every so often a hum starts in my brain and it swells until I can't avoid entering the old question into Google again. The thing is, I don't actually know anything at all. I don't know whether I was really meant to be the first child to go, all those years ago. I haven't seen Dustin since he slouched out of high school for the last time the year before I graduated. I don't know what he really was. He might only ever have been a baby bully who only loomed large in my own tiny head. He might never have done anything at all.
But when the stormclouds crackle, I can't help but wonder. When the air sizzles with ozone, the uncertainty comes surging back. If I hadn't managed to clumsily run away that day, would Jeremy Schaffer have made it through the night? And would that have been better? What might he have become, if we'd traded places? Would he have been more than a socially awkward IT worker? Would he have changed the world? Because I certainly never have.
I Google Dustin too. I never find much. He's still alive, still in Bloomington, still working a factory job. He got married a few years ago for the third time. I wonder whether she's happy, whether she's safe, whether she's scarred. I wonder so many things.
In a way, I'll never get to leave that cavern under the railroad track. Not until I die, or until whoever is stealing the children of my hometown is dragged struggling into the light. It was so small a thing, what happened that afternoon. I may have been safe the whole time.
Or maybe I escaped by the narrowest of margins. I'll never know, because there's fundamentally nothing to report. A child who pulls the wings off of flies and stomps frogs in the creek could be a vicious murderer, or he could be a small victim himself. All I know is that a shadow set up housekeeping inside my skull that day, and it's never going away. And I might know who's killing children in Bloomington, Indiana. And then again, I might not.
And there's nothing I can do about it either way.
I wish I had an ending for you. I wish I had a dramatic climax to share where I tracked down the murderer, hid in the rain, saved a small child from a grisly demise. But all I have is the whisper of suspicion and the overwhelming consciousness of the burden of proof. All I have is my own cowardice, thrown into sharp relief that summer day so long ago. All I have are all the years since, grey days one after another, knowing I made it out and Jeremy Schaffer never did.
And most days, that's enough. But when the thunder boils up through the sky, I remember. And I question. And mostly, I know that there's nothing at all to report.
submitted by ArgiopeAurantia to SleepOfReason [link] [comments]
2025.01.27 04:21 schrodingerano Me looking at the dimension where I developed my art skills instead of spending 600 hours in squad
 | submitted by schrodingerano to joinsquad [link] [comments] |
2025.01.27 04:21 Practical-Currency19 king in de castle, king in de castle i have a chair, i have a chair
 | submitted by Practical-Currency19 to dutchbunnymafia [link] [comments] |