Dating Greek guys

I'm not Greek and I think the infatuation with Greek or dating somone in a particular organization occured leaving high school/entering colleges. I have a couple of friends that are, Delta, AKAs, and I dated a Kappa. The turn off was that he was over 30 and still so involved (thus taking EXCESSIVE time away from me.) You will never see a guy more beautiful than Greek guys are. If you want to date a true man and choose one of the Greek guys, try Dating.com™ to look for your destiny. Greek women are not supposed to sleep around. If you go from boyfriend to boyfriend, or fling to fling, you easily loose your good reputation. Greek men, on the other hand, are allowed more freedom. Greeks Love a Good Party. Most, but not all, Greek men love a good party and some good old fashioned Greek dancing at certain celebrations. Greek men. Greek culture is somewhat different to its western counterparts, especially that of America. Greece is a laid-back country – society is not in a hurry and the people don’t rush around in mad circles. Greek women also have nothing against drinking, so many parties involve some kinds of alcohol, including traditional greek drinks. But if you have a greek girlfriend, be ready to attend a lot of parties and social events; They like to be wooed. Since greek men have a very specific approach to dating, greek girls are used to being courted in wooed. Greek men and Greek women want to look good. “Good looks” is radically rising in Greece (to the borders of exaggeration in some cases). Don’t forget that the Greek Gods literature played a great role on that. Greeks want to look fit and sharp. In the old days being “big” usually came along with lots of fat. Whether you’re Greek or are just visiting, Badoo is the best place to chat, have fun, flirt or date. Over 100,000 people join Badoo every day, so there are always plenty of new Greek girls and guys to make friends with. The site was launched in 2002 and is today the largest Greek personals on the Internet. Join our Greek dating site today to meet real and compatible singles Greek men, Greek women and guys. Eligible Greeks site features include Greek photo galleries, Greek events such as Greek speed dating, an advice column, Greek chat room and much more. Greek guys are an especially popular dating choice for singles from all cultures. Dating greek men may be what you have on your mind but the challenge may lie in meeting that special someone you share amazing chemistry and spectacular compatibility with. As such, if you are dating a Greek woman and things are going great, she will be very affectionate and is most likely to show you off to her friends and family as her man. Greek men, as passionate as they are, will do the same. They will spontaneously give you compliments, tell you how beautiful you are and show their affection by taking you ...

The Immorality Key: Amazon review

2020.10.21 15:15 fakamean The Immorality Key: Amazon review

Wow. What you say? I like the book! On 2nd pass reading (audiobooks). Was online reading reviews on Amazon. Found this! 3.0 out of 5 stars Reviewed in the United States on October
So, this came up in my recommendations and after seeing a few of, what I thought were odd endorsements (Moss - really it's not that odd for her, and Arey - and only because I am a convert to Eastern Orthodoxy) - I thought why not burn an Audible credit.
So, first off, the author has a deep interest in seeing psychedelic drugs legitimized. I have no issue with this. I'm nervous of course with opting onto a journey into altering my own neuro-chemistry, but, as a Christian, you should assume the natural world would be "gift-giving", beneficial to man. So, I'm more fascinated than super-overcautious. At the same time, the numerous ayhuascaa "trips" that people have taken include serpents who "wrap them up in love" - quite interesting from the Christian point of view - that view, the author attacks starting in Eden, then into early Christianity - seeing the Garden as a Jewish smack on psychedelics, then the 4th Century, always the whipping boy for Christianity, as the death-kneel.
After you endure the tirades on Christianity as boring and non-experiential, and I sympathize because modern Christianity is often not participative but passive. you get the premise that the rise of the “nones” is due to boredom, the supposed fact that Christianity is fraught with hidden information that would make faith impossible for most, and that atheism has gone too far in the other direction but that we could all get along around a shaman and some elixirs - that's a little crude but not unwarranted. Maybe, I don't know. But, it's this accusation that experience does not happen when according to Orthodoxy, and many others, experience is the goal. There is no “heaven” or New Jerusalem unless you actually get to see Christ. But whatever he makes of visions, we could shortcut the whole thing with a pharmacy. Sounds like atheists who say we should all be on antidepressants, maybe?
So, my take is more that people are disinterested in religion as fallout from the Reformation, the Civil War and how it broke the denominations into pieces, the Fundamentalist controversies, attempts to uphold Sola Scriptura, the rise of secularism from within Christianity, the lack of any perceived authority in Protestantism, the uncovering of numerous Catholic scandals, the rise of apologetics in atheism for the populace that are reactionary against Fundamentalists, Calvin, authority - and actually they've turned into the flipside of the Calvinist - complete determinists with no god, so on. But the author wants to take us all back to the glory days of consciousness, to the root of civilization in beer, then drugged beer. And he may be partly right, it's just there are so many assumptions in the digesting of the information he's sought out that I think the reviewers who give this an automatic 5 star already hope he's right and then decide he is.
There are monumental differences in epistemology East/West which the author does not recognize. I affirm wholeheartedly that experience trumps discursive reasoning. Reason is only there, or dogma, to safe guard a path to experience. This is decidedly Orthodox. God is completely unknowable in His Essence, and known through His energies. Theoria is the goal of the Orthodox Christian and it is experience not reason. Orthodoxy often accuses Scholasticism and Classical Apologetics as reducing God or the experience of God to reasoning within the brain when the entire body of the person and the entire physical world is sacramental.
The Torah and the entire of the Bible is unapologetically "against the gods" - whom the author loves with devotion. He is a Classicist and goes the modern route of mourning the loss of Greek culture/ideas at the supposed expense of Christianity's rude intrusion into history. The Christians screwed up everything that the Greeks could have given us and Constantine gets his usual verbal spanking along with other Christian emperors. Forgetting to thank monks for copying these manuscripts, again, the paganophile blames everything wrong in the world on the fact that the Greeks were replaced by the misogynist Christians who stamped out psychedelics that the "paleo" Christians/the truer Christians supposedly imbibed. But the presupposition which is stated with support from Pagels, but never examined, is that gnostic Christianity was equivalent or really superior to "orthodoxy". You have to buy into Pagels to buy his story and into post-modern readings of history where the winner is always the bad guy and the editor of history. You have to see Constantine as the intruder, which raises the question, which Constantine does he believe in? The bad one who messes up the Church and who was never really Christian, or the good one who supported the Church? The people who mourn never tell the "bad" side of Greek or Roman behavior or that the cult which supposedly morphed into early Christian liturgical/Eucharistic assemblies, was elitist. Their "mysteries" were supposedly the cause of a higher, sort of monotheistic Greek elite that was less primitive than the Greek mythology the public consumed. But the divide in the imagination of the ordinary person and the elite sounds like these were two different worlds altogether. The mysteries are known to all, have festivals everyone knows about and yet there is a wide division between the upper class and the peasants imaginatively in their approach to religion. Much like the Masons, if you wanted these mysteries you couldn't go get a prescription, it was restricted. We have just now supposedly cracked their neuro-cocktail that they wanted no one to have but them. Get it? They didn't want you to have it, but we should esteem them for it? The author realizes this and still sees a short-cut method to divinity. He just fails to realize the polemical nature of the entire Bible. The gods are real in the Bible and they're not nice.
He depends on the Gospel of John as proto-Gnosticism with a psychedelic flair. He jumps to the wedding at Cana as borrowing/morphing the aspirations of Dionysus. And, to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe there is something here - but when you jump over John 1 and the ascription of Logos to Jesus - you also miss the theme, the narrative that Jesus is the fulfillment of the hopes of all men given to the world in its time, in every time. So, today, it would be quite simple to find examples of converts who found their fulfillment not in ______ but in Christ as the fulfillment/superior to - whatever was getting them by, coping. It's not borrowing, it's using language to express the superiority of Jesus. If someone was converting to Christianity from Islam, would you develop entirely new language for God? Or, would you use the familiar language which most closely represents what you are trying to express and show the superiority or the fulfilling? Language is flexible, experience is flexible, but when you add on Logos, add on that this Logos is the Creator, you've communicated familiarity and played an ace. Quite simple, and the Bible is full of it. I mean, bread and wine are pretty common items. Sight can be used to describe all sorts of experiences. There are not many words used in such isolated instances that they stand out in such a way that they lose their flexibility.
At the same time, if there was a hallucinogenic Eucharist, and Jesus did institute it - if that was true - it would no more reduce Christianity to materialism that the author implies throughout. Jesus and Dionysus are only who they are due to the material they knew how to manipulate. The materialistic bias of the book is everywhere - but it seems the author is fine with this because if we had a magical experience we'd be convinced of a materialistic supernatural realm and it would be the perfect recipe for both worlds. Synthesis, which the author is after, drives the book, but it's a synthesis of two irreconcilable positions. The Christian and the atheist will leave the trip the same as it relates to their worldview, but both will have had the same trip, and the elixir that holds the world together will do its thang - creating an empirical experience you don't know how to explain and may leave you open "spiritually" - but entirely vague as to what spiritual might mean.
The author repeatedly regards the trip of a hallucinogen as exponentially better than the boredom of the Temple, Church. He doesn't however thrown other religions under the bus which he should to be consistent. He is fascinated as to how the Eleusinian mysteries could have flourished so long without - really good explanatory power given to the draw. This makes sense. But the same could be said of Judaism and Christianity. The fallback though will be something of politics and patriarchy - the bad penguins in Happy Feet - as the real reason Christianity and Judaism ever drew a crowd. This dismisses religious experience in a major way and employs logical fallacies to get it done, the genetic fallacy for one.
While the author supposedly hasn't drank any of his own libations, you have to ask, how are you so sure? My next reads are on "bad trips". I wasn't immune to experimentation as a teenager, but never did any hallucinogens., yet I had friends who did and the experience wasn't always great. The author mentions how the craft was easy to master, to make beewine/drug mixtures, and I can't help but think how - if you accidentally took 1000mg of caffeine versus 100mg, it might just kill you - and of course the author knows this about the psychedelics - but in a big way his argument depends on regulated psychedelics, dose controlled. So, how many people died, tripped really badly, went mad, etc., on ancient smack? All worth it I guess compared with the boredom of God.
In the Eastern Orthodox Church the Eucharist and other sacraments are referred to as mysteries, would have been secretive, and to this day you can read in the liturgy regarding guarding the secrecy/privacy of the Eucharist, the line, "I will not give thee a kiss as did Judas" meaning, I won't tell people what we're doing here. Also, catechumens would have been released before the Eucharistic liturgy because they were not yet illumined – in baptism. So, I assume up front, that there were competing "mysteries".
Catholic theology preserved pagan elements of salvation. The sacrifice of Christ appeases the wrath of God. Orthodoxy on the other hand preserves the Jewish mind, Second Temple mind, of the Bible and its world. So, in ignoring the soteriological differences East and West he misses that early Christianity had continuity with Judaism and seeing only the Western world, sees Greek influence and can tie paganism to Christianity and its practices. But this is only possible after hundreds of years of anti-Catholic Protestant revisions of early Christianity, and because, he is partially right about the influence of paganism on Western Christianity. Luther becomes the selling point for the Evangelical or Reformed audience, "ad fontes."
But the secrecy of the Eucharist/Mysteries was not due to Bread and Wine getting mixed with psychedelics, but that they were under suspicion of cannibalism. Eventually the practice of secrecy was dropped because of this – to avoid this suspicion. Read the liturgy, there are lines to make it clear we're eating a “bloodless” sacrifice (the liturgy of St. John Chrysostom and he surely likes Chrysostom - it's as if he expects the Christians to be inclusive of the gods - it's an ahistorical, post-modern reading of history). The first Christians were called atheists because they refused to worship the gods. This created fear in the people because the relationship with the gods was tit for tat, and had they tolerated more atheists, this would put the relationship in jeopardy. So, don't give your pinch to Caesar and maybe you'll get eaten by a lion. But why? Because, politically and spiritually the Christians seem like a liability. St. John's liturgy dates to the end of the 4th century and is based on earlier liturgies (St. Basil, St. James).
There is an underlying presupposition that only the illumined were worthy of the Eucharist, but how do you get to take the Eucharist in the first place - you must be baptized - illumined. In baptism - you die before you die- not in the Eucharist. This is why baptism is baptism into Christ's death. "You died with Christ" - St. Paul. Illumination was tied to baptism not the Eucharist alone. Read the Orthodox baptismal liturgy. Besides this, exorcism preceded baptism, and after baptism, Chrismation, anointing with Holy Chrism – like the OT prophets as the New Eden was kickstarted again with New Humanity. Illumination refers mainly to baptism and Chrismation and the Eucharist was given to those worthy of it. If you sinned dramatically you were excluded. If the supposed psychedelic compound was the cause of your moral aptitude, as the book credits these drugs for the awakening of the conscience and awareness of your place in cosmos, then the cart is after the horse. Why exclude someone from the drug if the drug was what was making you holy? That's like taking an addict out of rehab because they relapsed as a punishment. The premise of this book makes the Eucharist more foundational/primary than baptism and baptism for early Christianity is associated with illumination, not the Eucharist alone - yet there is no reason to think that immersion was immersion into a psychedelic. Really, the assumption that the Eucharist is higher than baptism is flawed from the beginning. Identity as a Christian was tied more to your baptism that it ever was to the reception of the Eucharist.
For example, in the early Church, if you had gone after a heretical sect, you were received back into the Church, if you had been baptized, and could provide some evidence you were. No one was asking whether or not you'd received communion. The criterion of baptism for inclusion in the Christian community, along with genuine repentance/penance, was your entry, not your Eucharistic participation. If the Eucharist was the condition, then the author may have had an argument.
The only reason the supplanting/fulfilling Pagan/Jewish religious/anthropological expectations/hopes is surprising – and leads to the assumption of Pagan borrowing/morphing - is because the Pagan landscape the Bible was written in has been lost on us due to Catholic and Protestant soteriology. In short, Christus Victor was replaced by Penal Substitution. Catholic and Protestant theology made God what you were getting saved from in salvation. Orthodox theology has affirmed the reality that idolatry, sins, Satan, and death, fear of death, are the enemies Christ came to conquer. Therefore, if you follow this theme, then coming out from the dominion of the gods, real ones, was salvific. The author I assume, does not believe in angels and demons and rival gods. He must assume these beings do not exist and opt for a pantheistic world (with a snake as it's main visionary experience - that may be more to pin on Hancock - or a materialism that mimics a pantheism). Protestant and Catholic theologians made the gods/turned the gods into imaginary beings people worshiped and God was their main enemy due to their sin in Adam and could only be forgiven through being elected/chosen to salvation in the New Adam who was punished by the vengeance of God due man - on behalf of the elect. Long story short, the differences/alterations in Western soteriology are more the story if as the author claims, what he wants to do is bring the rational atheist and the Christian who should have already abandoned his faith long ago, into a mutuality by getting them to take the drugs of the Greeks. In missing the epistemological differences though between the early Church and later Western developments, he misses that it is actually the difference between the mind/thinking attempts to get to God that always leaves you in the "about" created by Western theology versus the empirical theology of the East that has had tremendous ramification throughout the last 2000 years.
This empirical/visionary Christianity could have flourished just fine without psychedelics while being firmly against them and actually does to this day in Eastern Christianity. By conflating everything pre-Reformation with Roman Catholicism he misses that it's actually an epistemological problem in the West that sets up the problem of non-experience - and a soteriological problem that would have the same result on its own - the problem of Original Sin and Guilt and the byproducts/side-products of predestination, determinism, epistemological uncertainty, divine impassibility, etc. In terms of piety though, it will make for a mere-morality in many instances to give evidence that you are truly among the elect, the proliferation of dogmas to assure that you believe according to the faith of the elect, and will usually never give you direct experience. The problem of non-experience is not due to the lack of psychedelics but to a theology that makes direct experience impossible from the get-go. There's no ascetical path to vision in Protestantism and largely it is gone to my knowledge in Catholicism because of Original Sin and the soteriology it sets up. You're saved to the uttermost once you have faith in Reformed theology and works/getting closer to God is practically impossible because God had to overpower your will to save you, there's nothing left to do but wait for death while you try and be good and evangelize or improve society.
The author is flippant, sarcastic, and deceptive when it comes to the portrayal of the Church Fathers. He reduces their life's works to a sentence, like when he tells us how brilliant Irenaeus was since he believed there were 4 Gospels because there were 4 winds - as if anyone reading Irenaeus would have seen that as anything more than elevated poetry. Athanasius gets dismissed, Augustine - who I am suspicious of, same thing. On and on... Again, he misses, and I believe due to his Western bent, that the gods were real in the minds of the early Christians, early Pagans, early Jews - and this was the world they were being saved from, not saved for with a psychedelic twist.
From the Orthodox perspective, since it lacks a belief in Original Sin, or an Original Perfection to man - the sin in the Garden is seen as a shortcut to theosis - to godhood. This fits quite well imaginatively with drugs that have you cuddling with serpents and make you gods, and fearless in the face of death. It's interesting to me, that in Revelation there is a verse about people not repenting of their "pharmaceuticals" (9:21).
If the author wanted to put the Eucharist in the realm of psychonaut-ing then there should be precedent in Judaism. The problem to me is that you can't have it both ways. If Jesus is truly Jewish, you need a Jewish precedent. If Jesus is truly paganized, then you need to take away the only viable explanation for how Jews could worship a man: that Jesus was really Israel's long awaited King shown by deeds, teaching, Passion, and Resurrection. So, the author wants us to swallow a lot more than the premise that the Eucharist was tainted, but an entire new vision of who Jesus is.
submitted by fakamean to JoeRogan [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 15:26 Addy_StartUpGuy What does everyone think of this idea?

My friends and I have always had problems when planning date night with our partners. Whether we're in long term relationships or just casually dating, it's always been a issue.

It goes down something like this:

Jack: what do you wanna do for date night?

Jill: Idk, what do you want to do?

Jack: Ok lets go to an Italian restaurant and then bowling in the city?

Jill: Uggh.. we had Italian last week. What about Greek?

Jack: No, I had that for lunch yesterday. Ummm… ok lets have a Turkish dinner and then go mini golf?

Jill: No.... I don’t feel like Turkish

Jack: *frustrated losing his mind*

So, to fix this problem, I'm developing an app which helps couples, groups of friends and people who are just casually dating organise date night more efficiently and have fun.

It works like this:

  1. Choose your date night (04/09/2021)
  2. Invite your partner to the date night to participate in planning it.
  3. Pick what you're doing on the night (restaurant, activity, bar)
  4. Now you swipe left or right on your choices of restaurants, activities to do and bars (yes, just like Tinder). Your partner does the same from his/her phone.
  5. Once you both swipe right on a common thing from each category, a date is made.
  6. You can reserve tables, buy tickets, etc straight from the app.

Obviously there is a lot more going on in the background and the system will help you both be on the same page.
The app will be completely free. No ads, no paywalls.
Would anyone use something like this? Do you guys think its useful? What features should i add in it for it become useful?

Thank you!
submitted by Addy_StartUpGuy to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 15:20 Addy_StartUpGuy What do you guys think of this idea?

Hi all, first time poster here.

My friends and I have always had problems when planning date night with our partners. Whether we're in long term relationships or just casually dating, it's always been a issue.

It goes down something like this:

Jack: what do you wanna do for date night?

Jill: Idk, what do you want to do?

Jack: Ok lets go to an Italian restaurant and then bowling in the city?

Jill: Uggh.. we had Italian last week. What about Greek?

Jack: No, I had that for lunch yesterday. Ummm… ok lets have a Turkish dinner and then go mini golf?

Jill: No.... I don’t feel like Turkish

Jack: *frustrated losing his mind*

So, to fix this problem, I'm developing an app which helps couples, groups of friends and people who are just casually dating organise date night more efficiently and have fun.

It works like this:

  1. Choose your date night (04/09/2021)
  2. Invite your partner to the date night to participate in planning it.
  3. Pick what you're doing on the night (restaurant, activity, bar)
  4. Now you swipe left or right on your choices of restaurants, activities to do and bars (yes, just like Tinder). Your partner does the same from his/her phone.
  5. Once you both swipe right on a common thing from each category, a date is made.
  6. You can reserve tables, buy tickets, etc straight from the app.

Obviously there is a lot more going on in the background and the system will help you both be on the same page.

Would anyone use something like this? Do you guys think its useful? What features should i add in it for it become useful?

Thank you!
submitted by Addy_StartUpGuy to datenight [link] [comments]


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The description of this deal was not provided by this subreddit and it's contributors.
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submitted by SuperHotUKDeals to HotUKGamingDeals [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 08:20 MurasakiZetsubou 27 [M4F] Beast from Cavite looking for his Beauty

You probably see my username often in this sub. One time, I was looking for a pretend gf to replace the date I had scheduled, another I was looking for an online gf, just yesterday I was begging for nudes on my birthday lol. Before you berate me on the title of my post, I'm just gonna be clear here, I've been pretty desperate recently and I realized that wasn't gonna work. I was looking for someone who would hopefully never get tired of my negativity, that was stupid of me. For once, I'm gonna be true to myself and post what I'm hoping for.
I'm hoping to connect with someone who's cute/pretty (yeah, I'm one of THOSE guys, but beauty is different for each person, for example, I find girls with oozing confidence pretty, so...).
About me:
About you:
Just DM me if you're interested. HAHAHAHA
submitted by MurasakiZetsubou to phr4r [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 01:24 luisito_ii Just wanted to Share.

My name is Hernan. I’m twenty-seven years old, and I live in New York City. I’m originally from Queens, New York, but about four years ago I decided to make the big move to a much louder, more crowded, and practically financially unlivable place of residence. I don’t know if saying that makes me funny or relatable to you, but it definitely does to me.
Other than a looming threat of eviction though, I really enjoyed living in the city. Despite being the least quiet place in the world, Manhattan is somehow “quieter” than where I used to live, if you get what I mean. Sometimes it’s less about where you are and more about who you’ve got surrounding you. You get it.
I don’t mean to say that I don’t have friends. As a matter of fact, I prefer friends over every other sort of relationship one could have. My friendships range from coworkers at my job, to friends I met in grade school, middle school, high school and college, to childhood friends I’ve known simply by virtue of having parents that were themselves childhood friends… to Internet friends, whom I’ve only recently become accustomed to having. By “recent” I of course mean within the past decade or so—but the idea of an online friendship is still the newest iteration of that kind of platonic relationship I (and most people, I wager) have come to know. The Internet is young; but school, and work, and play-dates with “aunts and uncles,” who are only called your aunts and uncles by your parents, are not.
You meet Internet friends through all sorts of different channels. I have Facebook Friends, and YouTube Friends, and Reddit Friends—all of which are from other states and countries, but whom I know so much about anyway. Actually, I feel confident in saying that I know some of my Internet pen pals more closely than I do my friends at home. While my buddies from school are out living their lives, falling in love, getting and losing jobs, learning about politics, moving, getting married—the list goes on—my best friend Tonia, of Twitter fame, has the time to do ALL of that, while simultaneously sending a “hey how’ve you been” text and holding a subsequent conversation, pretty much every day.
I hope I don’t sound possessive or angry with my regular friends for having lives, I’m really not. Life gets in the way of things; I didn’t often reach out to them either in the midst of my own life developments. What I’m getting at is that, there is an unspoken mutual understanding with an Internet friend—this sort of unloaded, unconditional “agreement” you make by choosing to incorporate these faceless individuals into your life. It makes responding, holding those conversations, and sharing new developments feel more rewarding. In a way, these relationships often feel more like “real” relationships than real relationships.
I’m going somewhere with this. Bear with me.
Me and Tonia met while I still had a Twitter account, a little over six years ago. She was replying to the account of a popular fast food chain, specifically asking when a particular item was returning to their menu. I was curious as well—I liked the item she was asking about—so I replied to her tweet with something really hollow and air-headed along the lines of “I want to know too! I love [that item].” It was probably the most boring way a person could meet a person, and was retroactively made even funnier by the fact that I was inexplicably “following” that fast food chain’s account, and that’s why I saw her reply. A chain of mediocre decisions eventually led me to a friendship that lasted for years. That’s the Internet.
Now that I think of it, that particular food item never did come back.
Mine and Tonia’s friendship started only as Twitter interactions in the first year—replying to one another’s tweets, direct-messaging funny tweets we saw on our respective feeds to one another, and so on. After a year of that, we randomly exchanged phone numbers and started talking and texting more frequently, one-on-one. Just like that, me and Tonia were actual, real friends. I didn’t feel like I needed Twitter anymore around that time, so I deleted it.
In that time I made other Internet friends as well. Like Tonia, some of them also have my number; hell, in more recent years some have even been to New York to visit me, and I to New Mexico and Florida and South Carolina to visit them. I have physically met a good number of my Internet friends, and every time we would reconnect it would always end up being a wonderful experience. That said, none of them were as close to me as Tonia became. Tonia was my best friend—and we’ve never even met in person!
We would talk every single day, sometimes for hours at a time, over the phone. Something we got extremely accustomed to doing was throwing out anecdotes about whatever may have happened to us on that particular day. I would tell her about the lady at work that brought forty-two items to the checkout counter for me to scan individually; and she would tell me about her neighbor’s dog having puppies and not being able to adopt one because she’s insanely allergic. Our interactions felt almost like a tradition after a point, like a parent reading their child a bedtime story before finally declaring the day complete.
Though, some days, we didn’t have any stories we felt were worth telling. Not every day is a riveting narrative, or even a narrative at all, so on those days we would simply use our time to vent out whatever thoughts were in our heads at that moment. The thoughts could be incomplete, or inaccurate, or even a little upsetting; they could also be the exact opposite of all three of those things. We would not think—we would just Share.
“had my eye on a coffee mug with a picture of jason voorhees on it. it’s $10 though”
“If it’s a toxic relationship I don’t need to worry about how I get out of it.”
“just finished the first season of The Walking Dead. It was fine!”
“I’m honestly okay. she was 87 and racist as shit. called me a spic once. Not great”
“i swear if my fucking phone dies at 70 fucking percent one more time i am going to shit”
“if there’s enough money to house every American why are there still homeless people?”
“my dad didn’t send me anything this week. Lmao”
“if ur not big on season 1 don’t bother continuing, imo it gets harder from there.”
I am going to go ahead and not clarify about who said what.
Sharing has become an essential part of my life. Online and offline, in any conversation, I would feel a comfort curated over years of being encouraged to speak my mind on a public forum. The more I spoke on things, the more inclined I felt to speak on things. Every word, every point made, every story—every Share—felt like another piece of me unfolding, opening up. And every time Tonia would Share with me, I could feel her shedding that exterior as well. As far as I could tell, I knew her better than anyone.
As it turns out, I didn’t know her.
I didn’t know my best friend at all.
The signs started as far back as four years ago. I was closing at work on a Saturday in the middle of October. Two of the scheduled managers were a no-show and the remaining two that were left on the floor decided that the rest of us would be “phenomenal” managers for the night, and were to be given all of those wonderful responsibilities at the tail-end of the shift. While I was working I would occasionally discreetly pick up my phone to answer a text from Tonia—who apparently had some big story to Share whenever I got home. By the time we finished cleaning and counting and sorting it was almost one in the morning. One of my managers gave me a ride. It was a long night.
I walked into my house at one-thirty. All the lights were off, and instead of disturbing the “stillness” of the place I decided to throw on my phone flashlight and stumble through the house half-asleep. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and started towards my room—stopping right outside the first door on the right side of the narrow hall, and looking inside.
I opened my laptop at two-fifteen and started a video-chat with Tonia. It was nice to see a familiar face after such a long day. We talked for an hour and a half. Her big story was that her dad sent her a postcard, which was nice to hear. I told her a little bit about a guy at work that kept shouting at my manager that his three-year-old “had to take a shit” really loudly again and again. We laughed for a while at that. She mentioned that she was considering learning how to cook so she could finally move up from TV Dinner meat loaves and the occasional impulsive take-out. I personally didn’t see a problem with her current palate, but of course I encouraged her to go for the big leagues if she really wanted to.
It was almost four in the morning now, and the conversation was becoming more somber. Tonia was telling me about her dad being in the Navy since she was little, forcing himself to stay in it as his only paying job for years and years. According to his postcard he was finally retiring; and within the next few weeks, he would be home. “Don’t tell anyone,” she said, wiping tears away, “but I’m scared of how different things will be when he’s back. Is that terrible?”
I told her I didn’t think it was terrible. I told her that we get accustomed to certain ways of living. I told her that, when those circumstances change we face a potentially huge adjustment. I told her that, after my parents died, me and my sister spent years trying to bounce back; but then I told her that, we’re here now, and everything is fine, and this is our life. I told her that change is scary, but it passes. I still really hope that what I said made her feel better—it was arguably my biggest Share with her up until that point.
But it wouldn’t be the biggest Share of the night.
“How’s Maritza been?”
I haven’t talked much about my younger sister Maritza yet, because I don’t care for her. We always saw each other as roommates more than siblings. I hardly paid her mind whenever I was home, and she often returned the favor in spades. But earlier that night, on my way to my room, I stopped briefly outside her bedroom door, the first on the right, to see if she was awake.
The instant I peered through the cracked-open door and saw my twenty-year-old sister sitting on the edge of her bed, her headphones in, looking down at her phone in a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts, one thought immediately rushed into my mind, unprompted and uncalled for.
Her legs look good in those.
And immediately after:
What the fuck?
Shaking my head with an involuntary gag, I stumbled out of Maritza’s doorway and into my room at the end of the hall, slamming the door behind me. I stayed leaning on that door for what felt like hours but was realistically about forty-five seconds, not knowing how to process what had just happened. I tugged briefly at the groin of my pants, adjusting it, shuddering at the fact that a little bit of blood definitely started to rush downward…
Fuck you. I know. Fuck you.
You don’t think I know?
Fuck off.
I shouldn’t be afraid to Share.
And I did. I told Tonia everything you just read.
It is probably a massive red flag to say that I consider myself a self-aware person. Knowing that it can be seen as a red flag is, funnily enough, a part of the self-awareness. I analyze how I speak, and act, and think, all the time. I would even argue that this “mindfulness” is one of the reasons I enjoy Sharing so much; it makes my stories more detailed, and my confidence to speak out more pronounced. I always feel safe when I’m Sharing because most of what I Share is just me criticizing myself.
That is what I felt I was doing by telling Tonia what had happened. It was such a stupid thought, anyway—weird and intrusive and disgusting; and I know that it was all of those things, by the way. I figured I was just expressing a flaw to somebody I trusted would understand. Tonia didn’t see it that way.
I was hurt. For the first time since we met, I felt like there was something I couldn’t tell my best friend. I apologized profusely for even saying it—insisting that it was upsetting and disgusting, because again, of course it was—while internally harboring feelings of betrayal. The call ended civilly, and within the week things returned back to normal, as if it never happened. Tonia was still my best friend.
I should have realized that night that, this moment was the primer for something worse. I put my trust in an Internet friend that was nowhere near as invested in the liberation that being on the Internet could give someone; and in real-time I witnessed our “unconditional agreement” be nullified, reduced to dust, right before my eyes. Sharing stories and feelings were fucking everything to us. What made this any fucking different? Why the fuck does she get to decide who I am based on one bad fucking thing that crossed my mind? She says she’s afraid of her father coming home and I comfort and affirm her while she reduces my harmless one-off fantasy to some kind of perversion? WHO THE FUCK DOES TONIA THINK SHE IS?
I need to calm down.
I don’t regret Sharing anything that I just told you. But I am going to take a step back, collect myself, and start over. Thank you for bearing with me. Thank you for letting me Share.
My name is Hernan Anthony. I’m twenty-seven years old and seven months, and I live in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, New York. I’m originally from Astoria, Queens, but about four years ago, after I had an involuntary sexual thought about a family member, I felt too uncomfortable to stay in that house. I packed up my shit, collected all of my savings, and moved out. I’m facing some rent troubles now, but that might be a result of the fact that I chose to move to the most expensive borough in New York State. My only excuse for doing this was that, it felt far away. And despite the noise, it’s “quiet” here. You get it.
My one-bedroom apartment wasn’t the worst thing ever. I had a roommate, Hannah, who I split rent with. I volunteered to sleep on the couch since, out of the two of us, Hannah was the one in a relationship that would probably benefit from the privacy of a bedroom. I didn’t see her girlfriend—or, at that, her—very often. They were out most days and would come home really late. I never had a problem with Hannah. I don’t think she ever had a problem with me, either.
Me and Tonia stayed just as close as always during my move. We still talked, texted, or video-chatted almost every day, despite how busy our lives were getting. Tonia was wrapping up with grad school and stressing over her eventual job search while I was navigating city life and picking up extra shifts. Things were hectic now, but I think they were better than they used to be, for both of us.
The Shares continued on for years as frequently as always—albeit slightly modified. Although my and Tonia’s friendship appeared to be intact, and at that, business as usual, I could not help but feel something looming just over our heads every time I would pull out my phone or open my laptop late at night to begin our Shares. Something felt slightly off, at all times. I only came to realize what the source of this discomfort was one random evening two years ago.
It was after eight o'clock. I was struggling to fit my fist and a soapy, overused kitchen sponge into a glass that my hand alone would have a hard time fitting in, while clamping my phone to my ear with my shoulder. Hannah was out late again, leaving me a sink full of grimy plates and glasses to take care of. I’m sure you can imagine what I was Sharing about that night.
Tonia told me that she showed her dad the movie Monster House the night before, because apparently he had never seen it. He said he really liked it, which was good news to us because me and Tonia love Monster House—and, despite her reservations two years prior, she really loved her dad.
I really liked Tonia’s dad, too. One way or another he would occasionally end up in the middle of some of our Share sessions. He was never judgemental or pushy about the things we felt confident enough about to Share with him present; and at times he would even throw down some anecdotes of his own. Lot of Navy stories, some really sentimental stuff about his ex-wife, a recipe or two—Tonia’s abuelo could apparently cook like the fucking devil—and all sorts of other stuff. I thought of his voice as a welcome addition to the Share circle we constructed over all these years.
That particular night, Tonia briefly went into the kitchen to make a sandwich while we were talking. Her dad was apparently laid out on the couch, watching something on TV. As Tonia prepared the sandwich I could hear the distance of her voice changing, along with an additional, sudden reverb. I was put on speaker.
“...Pa, I have Hernan on.”
I could hear a distant “Ayyy!” through my phone as if it were coming from behind a wall. Laughing, I threw my loudest “Ayyyy!” back at Tonia’s dad. I almost dropped the mug I was in the middle of washing.
“Listen, Hernan!” His voice was now much closer as he was likely approaching the kitchen counter. “I’m apparently very behind on having good taste in movies! I was away for too long!”
“Tell Hernan your favorite movie, dad.” You could hear Tonia’s smile in her voice.
There’s a short pause. I could tell this was a hesitation.
“You kids ever seen Mask of Zorro?
Me and Tonia burst out laughing, her dad joining in. I have actually seen, and really like, Mask of Zorro, but the whole situation was so funny I didn’t want to undercut it.
When the laughter finally died down, Tonia’s dad was the first to speak.
“I would love some more movie suggestions—everything you got!”
I nodded feverishly, as if we were in the same room. “You know it, boss! Got a whole shortlist for you.”
He let out a hearty and wheezy laugh.
“Boy, when are you finally getting on a bus down to Jersey? We have to—”
A piercingly loud noise very suddenly exploded into my ear, startling me. My phone fell from my shoulder and into the sink, right under the running water.
“SHIT.”
I immediately stopped the sink and grabbed my partially-drenched phone—its screen still on and the phone call timer still counting up on it—and tugged violently on the paper towel rack to my right. Balling up as many paper towels as possible I cocooned my phone, attempting to soak up as much water as I could before any permanent damage was done. After a few seconds of applying pressure and feeling the paper collect some of the moisture, I removed the cocoon to find that my phone was still working just fine, and the call was still going. I sighed with relief, quickly placing it back to my ear.
“Hello?”
There were a few seconds of silence before I heard a voice.
“Hey! Sorry.”
It was Tonia. Her voice sounded close again, like I was no longer on speaker.
“Hey!” I could feel myself struggling to catch my breath. “Sorry too, I dropped my phone in the sink. Everything okay?”
“Yeah! I d-dropped a butter knife. Scared the shit out of myself.”
“I think I heard it!” I laughed. “You good?”
“Yeah! Sorry, about my dad.”
“Nah, it’s fine! Tell him I’ll get him that movie list soon.”
“Okay!”
And then, silence. For five entire seconds.
There is no other word to properly describe the terrifying feeling generated in that eternal instant than limbo. Without the noisy ambience of my running faucet, my empty apartment suddenly felt like the inside of a sealed cast iron box at the bottom of the ocean. I could feel a bubble in my throat, one that only appeared to grow as I searched for something to say. Finally, falling out of my mouth and into the world was the only thing consuming my mind at that exact moment.
“You... live in New Jersey?”
I could not have heard that right. Tonia could not be living only one state over from me. We would have met countless times in person; we would have been able to get together on a regular basis for years. If Tonia has been living in New Jersey this entire time, and never thought to Share it once… or, worse, intentionally refused to Share… then…
It nearly took another five seconds for Tonia to respond.
“Do you care if we talk about this tomorrow?”
I had plenty of Internet friends. My levels of Share between them varied greatly, but were all fairly high. My friend Randy knew about my irrational fear of bugs crawling on me while I slept; my other friend Mason knew that I would rather stick my head in a hole in the sand than be forced to do any sort of public speaking; and my other friend Gloria knew that my parents were no longer in the picture, “for whatever reason.” I trusted them all different amounts, would Share with them only to a point, and tweaked those boundaries as I got to know each of them. That’s what having friends is, after all.
Randy, Mason, and Gloria knew my address. I knew all of their addresses.
Instead of bringing up any of this to Tonia I politely said “no problem,” and “sorry,” and we both said goodbye, and that was that. Placing my phone on the wet counter, and not knowing what else to do, I ran the sink again.
My hands were shaking as I started in on another mug. This one had a printing of Jason Voorhees, from the Friday the 13th series, on it. Not really thinking, I held the mug in both of my hands—tilting it sideways so that Jason’s hockey-masked face was looking up at the ceiling—and moved it so that Jason was directly under the faucet. I stayed transfixed on the image of the foamy water colliding with that picture of a face for a very long time. All I could think about, in that moment, was what it would be like to drown.
The following evening Tonia called me—and apologized.
She was crying. Although we had cried to one another countless times, this time was different; the choking sobs that came from her were guttural, from a part of her I don’t think I have ever heard before that night. I remember every word she spoke as if we were in the same space together, sitting on the couch, with not even a state line to separate us. It was the most colossal Share I ever heard.
“All I have wanted for years was to meet up. Shit, Hernan… I don’t know anyone better than I know you. When we met, I didn’t want friends. I had a handful of Twitter followers and my dad’s postcards—and I was used to that. But you showed up, and you showed me how good having a friend could be. You were my favorite person. You still are my favorite person!
“I have shared things with you that nobody else in my life knows. Not my coworkers, or my followers, or what few friends I have… or even my dad! You are my best friend. I never want you to think I wouldn’t want to meet you in person, Hernan. It’s all I think about! Us hanging out, going to all the local places, by you or me… I could meet Hannah, you could meet my dad… It would be great, and I want that to happen!
“I’m just… I’ve always been really afraid of new shit. You know that. You know it takes me time to adjust to change. From not wanting friends, being alone all the time, to you and me, to my dad, and with school ending, career starting… it’s a lot of change. I’m just not ready for more shit to change.
“I will be ready though, and probably soon. This is a huge transition, you know? It’s been rocky—and it’s gonna be rocky—but when shit’s calmed down, and my life is finally settled, I want you to come visit. No joke, I will give you my address right now. I’m sorry I didn’t before, and I’m sorry if that hurt you. You got a pen—?”
Fucking liar.
It was the most colossal Share I ever heard—and every word of it was fucking bullshit.
Tonia, I know you. I know every story and feeling you have ever felt inclined to Share about. I remember everything you’ve said to me, on the phone, in video calls, in texts, emails, tweets, EVERYTHING, over our entire fucking friendship. I am more than happy to prove my attention to detail on that point too, if everything I have written here so far hasn’t been enough. Are you ready, Tonia?
One year after we met, you started taking a Greek Classics course. Do you remember that? I do. I remember it because it was all you Shared about, for all five fucking months you were taking it. When you first picked your classes you were dreading taking this one in particular, since it was a necessary core class to put towards your degree BUT something you were certain you would fail. “This is going to be a big adjustment,” you said. Except, every week you would call me with some great news about how great your class went, how well you were doing, how miraculously you were able to adapt to such a big change in workload…
A year and a half after we met, you told me you had to end things with Michael. Do you remember that? You told me you felt manipulated, that he was making you unhappy but was doing everything in his power to make you feel like you should be happy, that it was your fault that things were so strained between the two of you, that he was right and you were being irrational...
You didn’t know how to end things, so you made something up! You forged text messages on his phone so it looked like he was cheating on you, so you could explode on him and storm out without so much as an explanation. You found a way to justify leaving him to yourself, since you knew he would convince you of anything that he was aware of. You were so ashamed of doing it, even though you were right to do it. You texted me that night in a panic. I still have the text!
“If it’s a toxic relationship I don’t need to worry about how I get out of it.”
It was your biggest Share up until that point in our friendship. You told me to never tell anyone about that.
Whoops.
A month later, you met Gabriel. And the two of you really hit it off! Despite being in that relationship with Michael for almost three years you seemed fully equipped to handle such a daunting transition. I was happy for you both! Just my best friend, forging a new relationship despite her apparent fear of them, of opening up—of change! Weird, that.
Do you remember two years after we met, on that fateful fucking night, when you poured out your heart and soul about your fear of things changing when your father finally came home?
“Don’t tell anyone,” she said, wiping tears away, “but I’m scared of how different things will be when he’s back. Is that terrible?”
No, Tonia. It’s not terrible. And you know what? You didn’t think so either; because two months after your dad came home, you sent me a picture of you and him at a carnival late at night, cotton candy in-fist, ear-to-ear smiles, with a caption that filled me with joy and brought me to tears. You said, “It’s like he never left.”
It’s like he never left.
IT’S LIKE HE NEVER FUCKING LEFT.
I didn’t challenge any of Tonia’s lies about our friendship, or her phantom fear of change. Instead, I forgave her. We moved on and talked for hours about other things. School. Work. Our individual futures. Just two best friends, Sharing, validating each other, loving each other as much as any two people could—one last time.
Shares with Tonia were never the same after that night, on my part. Our friendship was never really the same, either. Some nights our talks would be reduced to an hour or less of recapping the day; other nights we just didn’t talk at all. At first I was too “busy” or “tired” after work to keep our talks going, but after some time the excuses became less necessary, and Tonia stopped seeking them out. Six months later our friendship was diminished to a few texts and maybe a weekly call that was filled with hollow “how are you’s” and “that’s great to hear’s.” It was over for us.
It wasn’t over for me.
Over the last year I’ve found myself publicly saying things I don’t necessarily mean to say. Be it in online posts, with friends, and more recently at work, it has become more and more difficult to keep my thoughts to myself. It started innocently; sometimes I would accidentally let slip an occasional political opinion around a middle-aged person—something I have always explicitly avoided doing—and other times I would impulsively leave rude or confrontational comments on Facebook posts of extended family members or Reddit posts of people that followed me.
It only got worse. When I wasn’t Sharing I could feel a tremendous pressure building inside my head. My ears would get hot, my eyelids heavy, and my breathing short. Minutes would feel like hours of intrusive, upsetting, unwanted ideas, none of them constructive and all of them varying degrees of personal. The days would drag to a point where, something I did last night would feel like it was done a week ago, or more. I never realized exactly how loud it was inside my own head before now, and how essential Sharing had become to me, to keep me from losing it. These feelings followed me into my dreams; I dreaded sleeping as much as I dreaded being awake. There wasn’t really a difference after a point.
I opened up accounts on every social media website you can think of. I finally made a new Twitter, after years of not having one. My tweets were just casual updates, brain vomit, “shower thoughts,” ANYTHING I could say to begin to empty my horrible brain even a little bit. I made an Instagram account, which was more fun than I thought it would be; I would take pictures at work with my coworkers, and at home with my roommate, and outdoors on the rare days I was free from being overworked at my job or unmotivated at my apartment. I made a Snapchat account and a CuriousCat account and a Tumblr account and began uploading videos to my previously-empty YouTube account. I just needed to Share.
It was not enough. I could only begin to purge myself of all the surface-level anxieties and anecdotes through photos and 280-character text posts and “vlogs,” but the truth was, I had already been exposed to the most effective platform for Sharing what was in my head: friends.
So, I turned to my friends. I grew closer with my coworkers, and my roommate, and her girlfriend—and I even made more friends online thanks to my increasing presence on all those websites. I never felt it was important to count my friends before; but I had fifty-eight fucking friends. Some of the relationships didn’t develop all that much; some of them flourished; some of them became intimate, sexual; some of them withered; and some of them became “best” friendships, equal to or even surpassing my closeness with Tonia.
And you know what?
It still wasn’t enough.
My nightmares worsened. The loud thoughts grew louder. Any moment in an average day that my mouth wasn’t open and words weren’t shooting violently from it was a moment of agony, of real and physical pain. If I found myself alone in a room for more than a minute I would instinctively open the Twitter app, hit “compose tweet,” and then proceed to sit there, blankly staring at the rhythmically blinking text cursor, not knowing what I should say but feeling that it was crucial that I say something, anything…
Three weeks ago, I told Hannah that her girlfriend hates when she sings. Why the fuck did I say that?
I hate being alone, because I’m never alone. When I’m not with my friends or on the Internet I’m still with a person that I cannot get away from—someone who craves attention and validation, and expects you to sit there as he destroys your perception of him, for he has convinced himself that his thoughts must be heard; otherwise, he will die.
Two weeks ago, I called my sister. We caught up like no time had passed, and right before we hung up I told her not to forget to lock her doors at night. Jesus Christ.
I don’t remember exactly when, but sometime recently, the way that I perceived Sharing started to change. It’s hard to explain but, I’ve started to see what’s in my head as more than just abstractions that my subconscious creates for me. I think that the impulse to talk about my feelings has taken its obvious next step—and, strangely, I’m starting to feel at peace with it.
Last week I called Tonia and told her that if I had the chance I would murder her and her fucking father and gut them both. I didn’t get a chance to speak my mind entirely though, because halfway through my Share Tonia hung up on me.
Whoops.
I left home that night, without a word to Hannah. I’ve been staying at different motels for the past few nights with the money I would have used to pay my rent, terrified that my last Share meant that the police would absolutely be looking for me. I didn’t have an explanation for why I called Tonia, and said what I said, that would mean a single thing to any of them. They make me feel afraid to Share. Nobody should feel that way. NOBODY.
I considered killing myself today. Actually, I considered killing myself up until about three hours ago today. Early this morning I sat on the edge of this same garbage spring-mattress with my laptop and a blank Word document open in front of me. Suicide notes can, depending on who you ask, be as long or as short as your heart desires; and to me, it felt like the perfect vehicle to finally get every last meaningful thought out, no matter how horrific or vile any of it was.
As I started writing what you are, and have been, reading right now, I finally began to feel the impossible relief that I convinced myself I would never feel. My endlessly packed mind was emptying! I was Sharing like never before! I still am!
There’s one problem, though.
About a fifth of the way through writing this I found myself hesitating. Even though this would be the last thing I ever wrote before lying face-down in a motel bathtub in Brooklyn, New York, there were moments where I strongly considered mashing the Backspace key until there were whole entire sections of my life that would be omitted forever. I resisted the urge, at first, but it only became harder to not feel ashamed of myself, the more I wrote.
This shame affected my writing in some places. I found myself under-explaining and using little detail, generalizing, and even leaving some important stuff out. By the time I revealed that I was aroused by my little sister I had begun to scream at my computer screen, wailing and bawling and cursing at myself. Still, I didn’t delete any of it, imperfect as it was. When I was done crying, feeling exhausted from hating myself, my face swollen and my body trembling, I took one big, deep breath and wrote “I shouldn’t be afraid to Share.”
I shouldn’t be afraid to Share.
And then I started over, less afraid than I was before.
My name is Hernan Martin Anthony. I’m twenty-seven years, seven months, and twenty-three days old. My birthday is on February 26, 1993. I live at [this information has been removed] in the Lower East Side of New York, [zip code removed]. I originally lived at [address removed] in Astoria, Queens, [zip code removed]. I am half Puerto Rican and I am half Irish, but was born at Southshore University Hospital in Long Island, New York to Edwin and Lolita Anthony. I weighed eight pounds, five ounces. My social security number is [removed]. You could have reached me at [phone number removed] before today. My roommate Hannah Vassano and her girlfriend Kira Something I Don’t Fucking Know They’re Always So Busy Either Exploring The World At Every Waking Hour Or Fucking At Two In The Morning With An Obnoxious Hushed Tone Like This Apartment’s Walls Aren’t Half An Inch Thick are both in their early twenties and are students at NYU Tisch. We paid $2,450 a month for a one-bedroom apartment, a notable step down from my paid-off mortgage in Queens and bills that added up to no more than $200 a month. Working a job where I’m pocketing (at best) $400 every two weeks made it difficult to keep up with my apartment’s rent, even with the help of my roommate. I would never have left my old house in Queens if not for the night of October 30, 2015, when I had a sexual thought about my younger sister as I passed her bedroom late at night, went into my room, masturbated, and then called my best friend and told her all about it. You get it.
Tonia Casiano is my best friend. She’s twenty-eight years old and she lives with her father Leo Casiano. The last night we ever spoke meaningfully, she gave me her home address, which is [address removed] in Secaucus, New Jersey, [zip code removed]. The moment I hit send on this post, I’ll be on my way there. I’m excited to finally meet her.
Thanks for letting me Share. I needed this.
submitted by luisito_ii to HalloweenStories [link] [comments]


2020.10.19 00:29 Soldier_of_Radish Help Me Identify These Badasses of History

So years ago I read a book about the most badass badasses of all history, and then I promptly forgot all the relevant details like names, dates and places. I want to go research two of these awesome events, but I need some help remembering who I'm thinking about.
First up is a legion of soldiers. I think they were Greeks. Maybe Romans. Fuck, they might have been Macedonians. That general region. Anyways, a whole army of them marched way deep into enemy territory (Persia?) and then they got betrayed or something, and anyways, they ended up stuck way out in the middle of their enemies, with no support or back-up, and had to fight their way back to safety.
Second is a single guy, who I am absolutely positive was Indian...but this might have been before there was an India. So there's this guy, and he's nobody special. Anyways, the king or something royally screwed him, and he went on this epic roaring rampage of revenge and killed like...everyone. By himself. Like total action movie hero death tolls. Just single handily took out a whole palace.
Anyone have any idea what I'm talking about?
submitted by Soldier_of_Radish to AskHistory [link] [comments]


2020.10.17 12:16 EdgeworthM Guide to Anime Profile Pics

You play shoots and ladders, I play connect four cuz I connect the fucking dots FACTS, Animes are cartoons FACTS, Anime Fans are Cancer FACTS. Let's talk about the common anime icons.
Sailor Moon Icons: Sexually frustrated and confused women in their 20's who still collect stuffed animals, graphic design is their passion and are in love with dated fashion.
My Hero Academia Icons: Those guys are just bitches when I think of a guy who likes My Hero Academia I just go "what a bitch".
Dragon Ball Icons: Awkward, overweight Latino teens who could lift a lot but can't do a sit-up without squealing. Goes to church wearing a football jersey even if it's his grandmother's funereal.
Touhou Icons: Racially insecure Latinos who post on 4chan and beg Irish Americans if they could survive the upcoming race war of 2006. Deranged and mentally ill to the point where they think men screaming at convenience stores is based and chad. Claims that simple phrases like "thot" and "yo" is like super ebonic. They are likely to use the term "swag-fags" as an insult in 2020
Jojo Icons: Banned kids who won't shut the fuck up, I hate them, I hate them, I HATE THEM, fuck you if you are using a Jojo icon rn
One Piece Icons: Bitter nerds who answer who always reply passive-aggressively in sarcasm no matter what, "wOw yOu arE sO cOoL" or "wOw tHat's rEally nIce" stuff like that. I mean if I wasted my life watching 1000 episodes of garbage I'd be pretty bitter too
Goblin Slayer Icons: Autistic white guys with decent jawlines who didn't know it was decent until 23. But they get really obsessive about it by staring at themselves in the mirror like an idiot, calls the government Marxists for allowing his parents to get divorced 10 years ago but doesn't blame his dad's alcoholism. Jumps from a socialist to a greek orthodox capitalist to an asshole atheist from time to year. Likes Goblin Slayer a lot because they have delusional fantasies that everybody will love you for being relatable and a "misunderstood loner badass" for his jawline and autistic obsession with war and knight armor enabled through superhero comic-book writing and plotlines. I'm sorry but anyone who thinks this bland garbage is anything on the same level as Berserk is a fucking idiot. Goblin Slayer is for man-children who just want to scream "That ass yeah, frick yea hot girls uwu, yeah YEAH", whereas Berserk actually has complex characters and concepts.
So if you want my respect on the internet why don't you ditch that Goblin Slayer shit for mother fucking Guts
submitted by EdgeworthM to copypasta [link] [comments]


2020.10.17 01:00 EdgeworthM The Guide to Anime Profile Pics

You play shoots and ladders, I play connect four cuz I connect the fucking dots FACTS. Animes are cartoons FACTS. Anime Fans are Cancer FACTS. Let's talk about the common anime icons.
Sailor Moon Icons: Sexually frustrated and confused women in their 20's who still collect stuffed animals, graphic design is their passion and are in love with dated fashion.
My Hero Academia Icons: Those guys are just bitches when I think of a guy who likes My Hero Academia I just go "what a bitch".
Dragon Ball Icons: Awkward, overweight Latino teens who could lift a lot but can't do a sit-up without squealing. Goes to church wearing a football jersey even if it's his grandmother's funereal.
Touhou Icons: Racially insecure Latinos who post on 4chan and beg Irish Americans if they could survive the upcoming race war of 2006. Deranged and mentally ill to the point where they think men screaming at convenience stores is based and chad. Claims that simple phrases like "thot" and "yo" is like super ebonic. They are likely to use the term "swag-fags" as an insult in 2020
Jojo Icons: Banned kids who won't shut the fuck up, I hate them, I hate them, I HATE THEM, fuck you if you are using a Jojo icon rn
One Piece Icons: Bitter nerds who answer who always reply passive-aggressively in sarcasm no matter what, "wOw yOu arE sO cOoL" or "wOw tHat's rEally nIce" stuff like that. I mean if I wasted my life watching 1000 episodes of garbage I'd be pretty bitter too
Goblin Slayer Icons: Autistic white guys with decent jawlines who didn't know it was decent until 23. But they get really obsessive about it by staring at themselves in the mirror like an idiot, calls the government Marxists for allowing his parents to get divorced 10 years ago but doesn't blame his dad's alcoholism. Jumps from a socialist to a greek orthodox capitalist to an asshole atheist from time to year. Likes Goblin Slayer a lot because they have delusional fantasies that everybody will love you for being relatable and a "misunderstood loner badass" for his jawline and autistic obsession with war and knight armor enabled through superhero comic-book writing and plotlines. I'm sorry but anyone who thinks this bland garbage is anything on the same level as Berserk is a fucking idiot. Goblin Slayer is for man-children who just want to scream "That ass yeah, frick yea hot girls uwu, yeah YEAH", whereas Berserk actually has complex characters and concepts.
So if you want my respect on the internet why don't you ditch that Goblin Slayer shit for mother fucking Guts
submitted by EdgeworthM to shitposting [link] [comments]


2020.10.17 00:55 EdgeworthM The Guide to Anime Profile Pics

You play shoots and ladders, I play connect four cuz I connect the fucking dots FACTS, Animes are cartoons FACTS, Anime Fans are Cancer FACTS. Let's talk about the common anime icons.
Sailor Moon Icons: Sexually frustrated and confused women in their 20's who still collect stuffed animals, graphic design is their passion and are in love with dated fashion.
My Hero Academia Icons: Those guys are just bitches when I think of a guy who likes My Hero Academia I just go "what a bitch".
Dragon Ball Icons: Awkward, overweight Latino teens who could lift a lot but can't do a sit-up without squealing. Goes to church wearing a football jersey even if it's his grandmother's funereal.
Touhou Icons: Racially insecure Latinos who post on 4chan and beg Irish Americans if they could survive the upcoming race war of 2006. Deranged and mentally ill to the point where they think men screaming at convenience stores is based and chad. Claims that simple phrases like "thot" and "yo" is like super ebonic. They are likely to use the term "swag-fags" as an insult in 2020
Jojo Icons: Banned kids who won't shut the fuck up, I hate them, I hate them, I HATE THEM, fuck you if you are using a Jojo icon rn
One Piece Icons: Bitter nerds who answer who always reply passive-aggressively in sarcasm no matter what, "wOw yOu arE sO cOoL" or "wOw tHat's rEally nIce" stuff like that. I mean if I wasted my life watching 1000 episodes of garbage I'd be pretty bitter too
Goblin Slayer Icons: Autistic white guys with decent jawlines who didn't know it was decent until 23. But they get really obsessive about it by staring at themselves in the mirror like an idiot, calls the government Marxists for allowing his parents to get divorced 10 years ago but doesn't blame his dad's alcoholism. Jumps from a socialist to a greek orthodox capitalist to an asshole atheist from time to year. Likes Goblin Slayer a lot because they have delusional fantasies that everybody will love you for being relatable and a "misunderstood loner badass" for his jawline and autistic obsession with war and knight armor enabled through superhero comic-book writing and plotlines. I'm sorry but anyone who thinks this bland garbage is anything on the same level as Berserk is a fucking idiot. Goblin Slayer is for man-children who just want to scream "That ass yeah, frick yea hot girls uwu, yeah YEAH", whereas Berserk actually has complex characters and concepts.
So if you want my respect on the internet why don't you ditch that Goblin Slayer shit for mother fucking Guts
submitted by EdgeworthM to copypasta [link] [comments]


2020.10.14 08:30 FreshTatarSauce Options 101 Episode 3: Lowering Your Cost Basis With A PMCC

Introduction

It's ya boi Tatar back with episode 3 of my option series. I took a little hiatus due to finding out my wife is pregnant. I'm very happy for her and her boyfriend and can't wait to raise the child as my own! Anyways, episode 2 was all about the vertical spread and if you haven't read it yet you can find it here. I will be referring to the Greeks a lot in this post, if you don't know about options Greeks, read episode 1 and you'll understand more of those weird, confusing words I'll be referring to later.
Topics I'm going to cover include: - What Is A PMCC? - How To Select Your Long Call - Where To Sell My Short? - What If The Underlying Blows Past My Short? - How To Roll Your Short Call Effectively
There will be no TLDR. If you can't read you don't deserve tendies. Class is in session.

What Is A PMCC?

PMCC stands for Poor Mans Covered Call. It could also be considered a diagonal spread or a calendar spread, but for the purpose of this post we are going to focus on PMCC.
You set up a PMCC by going long a call option and selling a call option using your long as collateral. This way, you don't have to own 100 shares and can earn some of that sweet, sweet premium at a fraction of the cost while still reaping the rewards of option buying degeneracy.
Keep in mind that your short option must be closer to expiration than you long option, and the strike is greater or equal to the strike of your long.
Lets say stock XYZ is trending at $53. An example would be going long XYZ 50c 1/15/21 and selling XYZ 55c 10/16/20. The idea is that you sell calls for as long as you want to hold on to the long in order to make passive income and lower your cost bases.
A PMCC has a unique Greek profile; it's a positive Delta, positive Vega, and positive Theta play. This means that you gain value as the price moves up, you gain value as IV increases (and lose it when it decreases), and Theta decay is in your favor. You will also be selling Gamma, but this can be neutralized by good rolling technique.

How To Select Your Long Call

If you're not interested in setting up a PMCC in order to collect premium and would rather just buy vanilla calls and make a little premium on them to lower your cost basis, skip to the next section.
The two components in this are 1) stock selection 2) expiration/strike and 3) leverage. A lot of this will come down to personal preference, but there are a few things to keep in mind when entering this position. For the purpose of this section, I will be defining RISK as the chance that the play will no longer be profitable by selling options.
1) Stock Selection
Although a PMCC requires you to sell a call, this is a bullish play, so keep that in mind. For beginners who just want to get their feet wet this is probably the easiest part as you can simply just choose a stock you like that's in your price range. Keep in mind that the main risk of this strategy is when the underlying shoots below the strike of your long call, so don't be retarded and blow your load on GME or NKLA.
If you want to maximize your edge and take advantage of the positive Vega, you can select tickers with low IV Rank and IV Percentile. Side note: I was going to make a post about IV Rank/Percentile first, but didn't think it was necessary to learn about that for the purpose of PMCC. My next post will be about this topic
2) Expiration/Strike
There are a few rules of thumb when choosing where to purchase your call. The longer out you select your expiration, the less theta burn you have over time and the cheaper the option is to own per week through the life of the option (this is calculated by dividing the number of weeks until expiration by the price of the option). Basically, the farther out you buy your call, the more efficient it will be for generating income over the life of the call. Think of choosing the expiration as choosing how efficient you want your play to be.
Strike price is a lot more important IMO and it's where most of the risk lies, because if the underlying plummets below your strike you're fucked. The deeper ITM you buy, the more the option replicates the stock and the safer it is.
3) Leverage
Simply put, leverage is the price of 100 shares of the underlying divided by the premium spent on the option. The idea being that you have exposure to 100 shares for a fraction of the price it would be to purchase 100 shares.
The mover levered you are, the less risk you are exposed to and the more efficient your returns will be.
Purchasing the option is a balancing act between risk, efficiency, and leverage. The risk is in the strike price, the efficiency is in the expiration, and the leverage is in how much you're wanting to pony up to enter the position. Find out where your sweet spot is and act accordingly.

Where To Sell My Short?

So you've purchased your long call, and are ready to gain some theta. Don't listen to the guys at thetagang who tell you to sell 1 month out and close at 50% profit, you're leaving gains on the table for no reason other than it's less maintenance to manage the position. Sell weeklies!
There are two main principles here to keep in mind:
1) The farther OTM you sell your option, the less premium earned (obviously) 2) The more your call goes ITM, the harder and more expensive it is to roll.
Many like to sell their calls around .3 Delta, which is typically about a 10% increase in the underlying. I typically sell mine around .4 to .45, which ends up being close to double the amount of premium earned. My thought process is that I want to maximize my profit if the stock trades sideways, and if the stock shoots up I'm earning intrinsic value in my long as opposed to earning premium.
If you're new to this, I would recommend selling a few at .3 Delta until you understand how the trade behaves.

What If The Underlying Blows Past My Short?

Quick answer: Roll UP and OUT. The most important thing in this play is to protect your long call
Rolling your option means selling the current one, and buying one at a later date and higher strike price. Since the longer DTE option has more extrinsic value, you can often do this either as a neutral trade or for a credit. Lets go through three scenarios to see how we can manage these trades.

How To Roll Your Short Call Effectively

Rule of thumb- unless you have a good reason to, don't let any days go by without having a short call. Every day without a short call is less theta earned. Also, you want to buy back the contract when it has the lowest amount of extrinsic value, which is Friday.
Scenario 1- You sell XYZ 50c and the underlying is OTM or slightly ITM
Wait until the extrinsic value is near zero, wait until Friday afternoon and buy the option back and immediately sell your next play at your desired Delta level. We do NOT want to let the contract expire for two reasons: 1) take advantage of weekend theta decay and 2) in the event the underlying shoots up AH, you aren't at risk for assignment. This is best case scenario.
Scenario 2- You sell XYZ 50c and the underlying is ITM by 5-10%
Here, our goal is to buy the option back and to sell one expiring the following week at a HIGHER strike price. This allows us to increase the distance between the strikes, which is a good thing for us. If the option is ITM by ~10% in Thursday afternoon, I will consider rolling then instead of waiting until Friday but I will typically wait until Friday morning-ish. In this scenario, I will look for as even of a trade as I can but it may be possible to do this for a credit, but again that is your personal preference. When we do this, we won't be earning any premium the following week.
Scenario 3- You sell XYZ 50c and it it moons up 10-20% or more
Our goal here is to PROTECT OUR LONG CALL. I will take a look at how much extrinsic value it has, and once it gets close to the underlying price I will roll at that point. The difference between this and scenario 2 is that you may have to roll it out multiple weeks as opposed to 1, and you may have to roll it out before Thursday, depending how fukt you are. Still, this situation can be rectified and it a good position to be in at the end of the day because you're making bank on your long call.

Positions

RKT 21c March 2021
submitted by FreshTatarSauce to wallstreetbets [link] [comments]


2020.10.12 19:46 partypastor Unreached People Group of the Week - Turkish Cypriots of Cyprus

Sorry for the late post today guys, I had a busy morning. Meet the Turkish Cypriots of Cyprus!
How Unreached Are They?
Turkish Cypriots of Cyprus are 0.5% Christian. That means out of their 217,000 population, only maybe 1,000 of them are believers. To make that even more relatable, there is only 1 believer for every 200 unbelievers.
An extremely small number of the Turkish Cypriots are Christians. The Bible, Christian radio broadcasts, and the Jesus film are all available in the Turkish language. Strongly devoted to Islam, the Turkish Cypriots need much prayer and dedicated workers living among them so they will know that when they die, it is not how they live, but Who lives inside of them, that will bring them to heaven. Joshua Project
What are they like?
Typical qualification that all people groups can't be summed up in small paragraphs and this is an over generalization.
Most of the Turkish Cypriots live in rural villages and rely on agriculture and trade for their livelihood. The land primarily consists of fertile plains, the inhabitants of which are blessed with a favorable climate that nourishes lush vegetation. Crops include fruits, wheat, barley, carrots and other vegetables, tobacco, and green fodder. Men handle most of the agricultural chores, but during harvest time the whole family helps with the farming duties. Those who prefer an urban lifestyle can find homes and plentiful jobs in the towns.
The homes in Cyprus are typically made of wood or stone. They usually have two stories and flat roofs. Animals share the lower floor along with storage facilities. In single story houses, the women use the living room to work in during the day; at night it becomes the family's bedroom.
Cyprus's excellent educational system provides free elementary education, for at least three of the five-year secondary education program, and technical training. As a result, there is very little illiteracy on the island. There are actually six universities in North Cyprus where Turkish Cypriots reside. These universities bring in people from all over the Muslim world. As a result of these universities and other factors younger generations are speaking English more and more. English is spoken widely as a second language, and many older Cypriot Turks know Greek.
Thanks to the healthy climate and well-organized health services, the people are generally healthy and the island, as a whole, is free of major diseases such as malaria and tapeworm cysts.
Craftsmen skilled in calligraphy, ceramics, and metalwork help keep the Turkish culture alive in Cyprus. Rug weaving is also an important skill because rugs are part of the Islam prayer ritual. Girls and young women are responsible for weaving the beautiful rugs.
Marriage is important in a Muslim culture and Turkish Cypriot girls usually marry at a young age. Marriages are usually between close kin, even between first cousins. Such intermarriage is common in a Muslim culture because it helps keep wealth within the extended family.
The Turkish Cypriots are Caucasians; most have dark hair and brown eyes. They are known to be gentle, courteous, and hospitable to strangers. They are proud of their ethnic heritage and remain very loyal to Turkey. Joshua Project
History Lesson
The Turkish Cypriots live on the northern section of the island of Cyprus, located in the Mediterranean Sea, just south of Turkey. As the descendants of Turkish Ottoman invaders who conquered Cyprus in the 16th century, the Turkish Cypriot proudly maintain Turkish customs, traditions, and language (Turkish). Today, the Turkish Cypriots make up about one-fifth of the island's total population. Various estimates point out that at least half of the Turks in Northern Cyprus are settlers from Turkey who emigrated in the last 30 or 40 years.
The Greeks, who inhabit the remainder of the island, have been enemies of the Turks since the Ottoman invasion. Cyprus became an independent republic in 1960, a move that was supposed to end warfare between the Greeks and the Turks. However, the bitterness continued, and when war erupted again in 1963, the Greeks won economic control of the island.
Turkey invaded in 1974 and took control of the northern third of the island. Today, a border separates the two peoples, whose animosity has never allowed them to come to terms with one another. Joshua Project
What do they believe?
Almost all of the Turkish Cypriots are Muslims who practice Muslim ceremonies and follow Islamic beliefs. For example, they believe that death is the beginning of a new life; the dead person waits for resurrection to either heaven or hell, depending on the way he/she lived life on earth. They believe in the "evil eye," which is the power to harm someone just by looking at him. Joshua Project
How Can We Pray For Them?
Brothers, my heart’s desire and prayer to God for them is that they may be saved. (Romans 10:1)
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Here are the previous weeks threads on the UPG of the Week for Reformed
People Group Country Date Posted Beliefs
Turkish Cypriot Cyprus 10/12/2020 Islam
Awjilah Libya 10/05/2020 Islam
Manihar India 09/28/2020 Islam
Tianba China 09/21/2020 Animism
Arab Qatar 09/14/2020 Islam
Turkmen Turkmenistan 08/31/2020 Islam
Lyuli Uzbekistan 08/24/2020 Islam
Kyrgyz Kyrgyzstan 08/17/2020 Islam*
Yakut Russia 08/10/2020 Animism*
Northern Katang Laos 08/03/2020 Animism
Uyghur Kazakhstan 07/27/2020 Islam
Syrian (Levant Arabs) Syria 07/20/2020 Islam
Teda Chad 07/06/2020 Islam
Kotokoli Togo 06/28/2020 Islam
Hobyot Oman 06/22/2020 Islam
Moor Sri Lanka 06/15/2020 Islam
Shaikh Bangladesh 06/08/2020 Islam
Khalka Mongols Mongolia 06/01/2020 Animism
Comorian France 05/18/2020 Islam
Bedouin Jordan 05/11/2020 Islam
Muslim Thai Thailand 05/04/2020 Islam
Nubian Uganda 04/27/2020 Islam
Kraol Cambodia 04/20/2020 Animism
Tay Vietnam 04/13/2020 Animism
Yoruk Turkey 04/06/2020 Islam
Xiaoliangshn Nosu China 03/30/2020 Animism
Jat (Muslim) Pakistan 03/23/2020 Islam
Beja Bedawi Egypt 03/16/2020 Islam
Tunisian Arabs Tunisia 03/09/2020 Islam
Yemeni Arab Yemen 03/02/2020 Islam
Bosniak Croatia 02/24/2020 Islam
Azerbaijani Georgia 02/17/2020 Islam
Zaza-Dimli Turkey 02/10/2020 Islam
Huichol Mexico 02/03/2020 Animism
Kampuchea Krom Cambodia 01/27/2020 Buddhism
Lao Krang Thailand 01/20/2020 Buddhism
Gilaki Iran 01/13/2020 Islam
Uyghurs China 01/01/2020 Islam
Israeli Jews Israel 12/18/2019 Judaism
Drukpa Bhutan 12/11/2019 Buddhism
Malay Malaysia 12/04/2019 Islam
Lisu (Reached People Group) China 11/27/2019 Christian
Dhobi India 11/20/2019 Hinduism
Burmese Myanmar 11/13/2019 Buddhism
Minyak Tibetans China 11/06/2019 Buddhism
Yazidi Iraq 10/30/2019 Animism*
Turks Turkey 10/23/2019 Islam
Kurds Syria 10/16/2019 Islam
Kalmyks Russia 10/09/2019 Buddhism
Luli Tajikistan 10/02/2019 Islam
Japanese Japan 09/25/2019 Shintoism
Urak Lawoi Thailand 09/18/2019 Animism
Kim Mun Vietnam 09/11/2019 Animism
Tai Lue Laos 09/04/2019 Bhuddism
Sundanese Indonesia 08/28/2019 Islam
Central Atlas Berbers Morocco 08/21/2019 Islam
Fulani Nigeria 08/14/2019 Islam
Sonar India 08/07/2019 Hinduism
Pattani Malay Thailand 08/02/2019 Islam
Thai Thailand 07/26/2019 Buddhism
Baloch Pakistan 07/19/2019 Islam
Alawite Syria 07/12/2019 Islam*
Huasa Cote d'Ivoire 06/28/2019 Islam
Chhetri Nepal 06/21/2019 Hinduism
Beja Sudan 06/14/2019 Islam
Yinou China 06/07/2019 Animism
Kazakh Kazakhstan 05/31/2019 Islam
Hui China 05/24/2019 Islam
Masalit Sudan 05/17/2019 Islam
As always, if you have experience in this country or with this people group, feel free to comment or PM me and I will happily edit it so that we can better pray for these peoples!
Here is a list of definitions in case you wonder what exactly I mean by words like "Unreached
submitted by partypastor to Reformed [link] [comments]


2020.10.12 19:38 Jack0fDiamonds I posted this in r/trp and it was removed immediately-think my new philosophy shines through

also don't care if this sub triggers you or is offensive, I only went to it to stop being a pussy and get laid more-could give two shits about all the conservative propaganda-which it mostly is.
"I've been on and off this sub since 2015, and they only thing I really cared about was getting my act together with my dating life and getting my power back. It wasn't until 2016 that I discovered this sect of the manosphere was conservative sleeper cell. Which is both understandable and a bit dissapointing in that many of the views here are from people who are absolutely far removed from reality. I'm not here to argue politics. What I am here to argue is that the moderators of this sub have taken absolute control over everyone and their ideas to the point, where one of the rules is that we have to respect those who have "put in valiant, consistent, effort to bring forth ideas and writings of quality". Their efforts are as a much of a meritocracy as our economy is definitively capitalistic. Meaning they are given the value that the moderators give them and we are told to except them or be banned. Just like we are told lies by the government, corporations, schools, and any other oganization that has an incentive above serving the community. It's time to ask the lot of you to do some hard thinking about this community? Is it for you? or is it for the moderators, their bank accounts, and their bragging rights. What if all of us here are being told our reality by people who are very insecure who actually give so much of shit about what women in society do to them, that they created this sub and community for them to lord over? Turns out our experts are just suit wearing squares who are up to business as usual. To you old conservative dinosaurs, you can read all the history and quote all the greek masterworks you want, but in reality most of you are more akin to warlords and apes than you are to greatest thinkers of the early world. You can rationalize it all you want, but there is a line in the sand, and I believe this sub willingly crossed it a long time ago, and whether it matters or not the community deserves to be what it will naturally evolve to, and not some pet project of those who "dedicate their time to the quality" of an internet space that they themselves did not create the framework nor own. Like I said, you have your own website, if it really mattered to you would be there and not on reddit-but you're still here and its because of statistics that drive traffic which influence each of your independent business ventures, and that would be fine with me if there was any integrity behind any of them. I find it laughable and concerning that I could be censored in a community much for free speech for criticizing a man like rollo tomassi who could not be any more of an out dated, washed up, blow hard who gets off on playing power games with 20 year olds on an internet message board. or Gaylubeoil who is more than willing to sell his personal workout programs off the hot coals of a pandemic panic. I cry laughing over the numerous amounts of bearded militia proud boys that post on here worried about communism and that politically correct LGBTQ community is making america unsafe for them go about their day. Why don't you guys get another 3%er tattoo and almost shoot a protestor on social media if it bothers you so much. Maybe don't take gavin mcinness so seriously? oh and to redpillschool the autistic rule enforcing bastard of this internet playground, who would rather ban me than admit that I thought of an issue in more depth and relayed to the community in a form which the majority benefitted greatly from it? You can sit behind your computer and enact checks and balances all you want but you still have to look at yourself in the mirror every day and understand that you are a hypocrite. If you want to be a dark triad pyschopath and control everyone that's fine, but at least do us all in the favor and put it in the sidebar and save people the time. To the late teens and 20 year olds in the community whatever you do just don't be a douche and don't join your daddy's frat and then complain you're under rape charges because you and the boys had too much fun pushing the local slut over the edge. To everyone else I strongly emplore you to get up and start talking about whatever you want on a different sub. It won't have TRP on it because the moderators have created, saved, and privatized every other alternate version of this sub on Reddit for obvious reasons, but they can't physically stop you from sharing your ideas under the title of something else. AND IT WON'T be QUARANTINED. Otherwise I'm not angry at women, and I don't care what they've done to me, and what they do to society because it doesn't really matter. None of this stupid shit matters and I'd rather smoke pot and play video games, and date girls with tattoos and vote for whoever I feel like because i'm not an empty scourge like a lot of these old, never has been, cookie cutter sellouts who are just in it for the money and the power, no matter how many throats they stomp on. And if in reality I suck and I'm a loser and I'm wrong and I'll never be good enough or pass on my DNA to successfully compete in the meta-homosapien cosmic race then whatever because nothing fucking matters this is all garbage."
submitted by Jack0fDiamonds to nihilism [link] [comments]


2020.10.12 10:07 lukeburrage 300 episodes of Futureling Species Speculation by Ken and John

To mark the 300th episode of Omnibus, here's every speculation by Ken and John on the podcast about what the Futurelings will look like, smell like, be like, etc. This is from a notes file on my phone, so maybe I've missed some. Episodes that aren't listed contain no speculations.
What's your favourite Speculated Futureling Species?
(shared a previous version of this, but the post is now archived so can't update it or comment)

Intro episode
Cockroaches, presumably.

European Starling
Starlings are the only bird left in North America, replacing the Eagle as the symbol of the country.
Live in a community of pacifism and pure energy... who have better taste than current people and revere the Long Winters, and use his track as a National Anthem.
Maybe half goat half person that like peeing on themselves.

Defenestration
Futurelings live in a world called Battlefield Earth.
Insectile claw into record grooves to listen to Omnibus.

Marathon of 1904
Giant. Megafauna.
Blocks of cheese, or maybe Ents?

The Pig War
All living in utopian Cascadia.
No Facebook... and no faces either.

Smell-o-vision
Giant moles, smelling the podcast, not hearing it.

The Rachel
May be wearing a haircut called the Ken Jennings.

Tesseract
Live on potato starch... worship the potato.

Water Wars
3.5 feet tall horned toads that lick moisture off rocks.
Listening thousands of feet underground at the water table.

Gadsby
Live in hives.
Eat massive 12,000 pound ducks that last the entire futureling’s life.
Click mandibles to write letters.

Secret Order of the Double Sunrise
Listening from Singapore which has a billion people, part of a global hive.
Have gossamer dragonfly wings due to evolvolution.
Houston and New York are part of the same megalopolis.
They all have an AI John Roderick in their treehouses.

Darien Gap
Sentient fish who live underwater and look at submerged trees.

Heil Honey I’m Home!
No such thing as race in futurelings.
All rooms only have three walls due to the main architectural influence being family sitcoms.

Monrovia
Old futurelings watch Jeopardy hosted by Alex Trebec’s head in a jar of nutrients.
Might all be part of the Canadian Hegemony.
Mandibles clicking in excitement.
Live in 55,000 small nation states.

Kohoutek
Giant Cockroaches again
Twitter became SkyNet and Omnibus is recorded for it.

Sentinelese
All left handed, or left mandibled, pincered, winged.

Paris Syndrome
Live in prairie dog burrows.
All are descendants of France or Québécois and eat Camembert.
Clack mandibles and speak the Lingua Franca: English.

Thomas Midgley
ConAgra is now the world government, and each corn kernel is a full meal.
Population of:
300,000
Or
300 billion living in a superstructure that extends out past the orbit of the moon.
A lot live in 10,000 year old house with lead paint.

Mummy Brown
Cockroaches that snort cocaine and find arrows through the head funny.

Mutually Assured Destruction
Chuckle into their sleeves.

Death disks
the president is a sentient coral reef
Sentient spam in the form of a giant clam

Hat etiquette:
Omnibites vs Nonmibites

Bellamy salute:
All wrapped in flags

Oneida:
All using Oneida silverware.

Megafauna:
All a single organism like an Aspen forest?

Zuider Zee
All Dutch

Rubber Barons
Play future golf with human sacrifice
They are crows (only corn is made in the future)

Mary Anning
Cloud of flying mollusks

Tuvan throat singing.
Star fish with no sensory equipment

Hachiko
Egyptian Hieroglyph Dogs who can write
Descended from British Royal Skye Terrier
With snake and/or tarantulas as pets.

Call signs
All live inside Radioshacks
Angels of Mons
Have tentacles

Hypercolor
Cold blooded and climb rocks to bask under the many suns

Bit Tawil
Live under an unfriendly draconian Pope who has sex with his cousin and inspires future Martin Luthers.

Checkerboarding
Have super-crania and can access any record at will from a web of information.
Different parts of the hive mind listen to different Omnibus episodes at one time.
Old timey prospectors, with no teeth, making sourdough bread... but in the asteroid belt.

Washington Generals
Type with claws translating via babelfish. Or maybe they are babelfish.

Backyard Blast Furnaces
Vermont farmers on collective farms.
Again, aspens spread world wide, all communicating through the connected root network.

William Rufus King
Everyone lives in Pearce Country
Sentient descendants of the hepatitis plague.

Tylenol Murders
Ectoplasm lives next door, might need to be murdered.
Listeners turn off when they hear about Facebook, as it is as bad as slavery.

Moon illusion
Live on planets Musk and Bezos
6 feet long probiscus noses double prehensile noses
Run on their noses with a Fitbit in the crepuscular crevice

Spanish Fly
Hundred noses cushballs only reproducing due to bremelanotide.
New date era is AF - after Facebook

Gordon Lish
Octopuses all with names that rhyme with “ayden”.

Port Chicago Disaster
nope

Duchenne Smiles
Faceless, no expressions.

Preppy Handbook
Sentient muscles that breath air and live above the sea. Their hive mind is deciding on one blazer for all or individual pieces for each muscle.
Maybe crocodiles or polo horses with human looking-heads attached
Maybe sentient Ivy League college campuses.

St. Martin Fistula
Eat bugs. And humans. Through their tentacles.

Bugatti Chiron
Travel with flying toilet lids

The Conqueror
Sentient algae carpets
Aging creatures with metal detectors.
Sentient four leaf clovers walking around.

Boysenberry
Not four legs, lobster people, live in a wreckage of the world where it is always hot. Or in a constant brush fire. Or a glacier.
Four dimensional listeners who see time as a solid object, and are looking at Ken and John “now”.

Billy the Pygmy Hippo
Reanimated taxidermy animals?

The Koryo Saram
Sentient hat racks.
Sentient labradors who are colorblind
Sentient rods and cones, and the rods are very racists against cones.
Sentient colours?

War Rugs
Octopus with a Hitler watercolor painting.
Prayer rugs made of algae and anemones

Christian Science Reading Rooms
Grey multi-tentacled old ladies volunteering.

Washbär
Raccoons, of course, with opposable thumbs, listening by feeling toffee with grooves.

Voyager Golden Records
100% nipples

Greek Fire
All Bulgars and Hessians

Barefoot Burglar
Have hearing oriffices, and should never insert anything smaller than their tentacle.

D-Day Crosswords
Tell time by tides. All amphibious.

Michael Rockefeller
Sorted the problem of mad cow disease when eating the brains of their enemies.
Sentient kangaroos?

Ea-Nassir
Sentient robots who pay for lubricant with 3D printed meat as their currency.
Communicate historical tweets via empathetic goop.

59 Les Paul Standard
Stylus in each tentacle to listen to the gold records holding the Omnibus episodes.

Inversion Goggles
Giant ants. Or Jains who don’t want to kill ants.

The Berkeley Pit
Copper beings evolved from the bacteria in the pit.
Decemberists wrote the national anthem.

Saint Helena Submarine Plot
Nautilus shellfish.

Anarchist Cookbook
Consume content through various receptor
Listening in the aftermath of the violent revolution inspired by the Anarchist Cookbook Movie adaptation.

Fourth Crusade
Omniscient clouds that already know all of the Omnibus.
Or
Citizens of a decadent cultured empire besieged by a spartan barbarian enemy.

Anita Bryant
Borg Blobs

Hilbert Hotel
Solve the Hilbert Problems before breakfast. And the Riemann Hypothesis too.
No “guys”. No genders. The only guys are holding boats to piers. They are nautical. Every day is Talk Like A Pirate Day.
Gleep Glop Language based on infinity.

Jefferson, State of
All futurelings live in California.

Disco Demolition
Baseball evolved into sentient. Round horse balls.
Everyone is a Jehovah’s Witness.

Albanian
Sentient Bulgarian algae mats

Mail Trucks
Future sentient mail trucks?

Dancing Mania
Nope

Blue Men of the Sahara
Cloud tentacles in sulphuric seas listening to podcasts across the oceans.

Tsar Bomba
Nope

Pokémon Go
Actually self-aware Pokémon in a virtual world in the cloud.
Giant sircades?
Islamic fearmongers?
Intelligent chem trails?
Mosquitoes complaining about Omnibus on Facebook.

Hollow Earth
Citizens of the hollow Earth.
All AI versions of Ken and John.
All named either Donnie or Marie.

Second sleep
Robots that don’t need to sleep.
Do not defecate, only recycle the water inside themselves.

Brown Sound
Three genders like midshipmen fish, communicating via sonic waves through mud.

The Ballads of Ossian
Nope

The Letter J
Live in a future paradise with only 10 letters in the alphabet.

Bridley Murphy
Sentient desk calendars that have a sense of humor.
All fractional owners of single memories of Ken and John.

Albert Pierrepoint
All living in cells guarded by Robocops.
The word “Facebook” is a profanity.
Or living in cloud cabins.

The Doomsday Flight
Multiple hearts and die of hearts attacks.

Wild Man Fischer
Sentient aspen grove again.

Jennens v. Jennens
Pronounce Jennings with insectile clicks and computer beeps.
Living in a simulation of a post apocalyptic world.

The Cagot
Slightly brighter eyes for the futurelings who listen to Omnibus. They will be the outcast heretics.
Look just like us but slightly more like the greys. With wheatish skin.

Deep Fried Turkey
Giant intelligent Crawfish.
Intelligent mud bugs.
The turducken/roast without equal is actually the futureling.

Pumpkin Pie
Pigs who are Shakespearean actors.
All food made of pumpkin.

The Qibla
In the inside of a Dyson Sphere around the earth.

Scrappy Doo
An ambiguous mixture of A. Humans who are so heavily into furry culture they have transformed themselves into almost-animals, B. animals who have evolved more and more human attributes so are almost-human and C. real-life creations of a computer AI that achieved sentience at the moment that humans reach peak-furry, so their corporeal avatars look like humanoid animals.

Ghost Forests
Sentinel mineralized trees on the coast with pysonic communication with land trees.
Actually ghosts of beagles listening to a continuous loop of Omnibus in a cave.
The ghost of John Lennon.

Marmorated Stink Bugs
Bugs listening via vibrations through their probisci.
Punisher issue 28 is their Gutenberg bible and the founding document in their own library of Congress.

Robert Smalls
Sentient aspens who keep ferns as slaves to harvest nutrients.

Patrick Nagel
Mud bugs
Rio is one document that survives.

Telling the Bees
Live in a hive, communicate via social media via dancing.

The Christmas Truce
Lobsters that don’t celebrate Christmas. Worship tentacled Cthulhu gods.

Thomas Nast
Fur suits.
Sentient wet cardboard boxes.

The Turboencabulator
Nope

Snowflakes
Listening on Mars

Track 61
Can send corporeal objects through time portals.

Vica Versa
Soul swapping entities that inhabit any body they want. 6 futurelings per cool body with the uncool bodies sit empty.

Trucker Culture
Nope

Twins of Benin
Trilateral symmetry

Samantha Smith
Nope

Flagpole Sitters
Antennae for hearing.
Use meters not feet.
Listening from on top of a pillar and worship Ken and John as gods.

Bodies of Mount Everest
Do they celebrate the new year a week after the winter solstice?
Don’t use feet for measures.
Say Kill-o instead of kilo.

Jaqualine Cochran
Sentient deep sea eel, maybe with tails tied together.

The Foreign Legion
Social media is cordoned off from most of the Futurelings.

Freighthopping
Just blonde mustaches the colour of mocha with cream.
All decedents of both John and Ken and their children.

Honest Dick
Hive of aspens with a Queen Aspen.

Mike the Headless Chicken
Hunter gatherers with tentacles.
Only eat cats.
Have Chip to put social media right into their brains.

The Cheesesteak War
Eat cheesesteaks.

Tippi Hendren’s Fingernails
Nope

Anything into Oil
Jellyfish tentacles or aspen roots.

Egg Cracking Machines
Invertebrates have taken over the universe. All have exoskeletons. The only internet left is the Omnibus.
All birds and like it when John talks about chickens.
One massive chicken... that listens to Omnibus.
100% of entertainment programming by JoCo.

Indigo
Mollusks.

Breezewood, Pennsylvania
Nope

Cocaine Hippos
Offspring of the first genetically manipulated Chinese babies.
Or icebergs?

Wide skis
Slide down mountains on slime from glands near their anus.

Mussolini ‘s nose
Sentient Gas wearing a T-shirt.

Breastaurants
Owls with uneven eyes that only eat chicken wings.

French Revolutionary Calendar
Marsupials and Tasmanian Devils covered in mucus.
No bilateral symmetry, but need eight holes in their T-shirts.

Charge of the Light Brigade
Sentient dung.

Hotel detectives
Drives octopodal vehicles.

Private Wojtec the Bear
Thoughtful algae

Plymouth Rock
Plymouth Rock Chickens that can move things with their minds.

Trapper Keeper
Coral polyps as friends.

Reindeer Wizards
More aspens

The Kamehameha Colonists
Intelligent turtles.
Avian futurelings descended from island birds.
Intelligent guano or corral.

Cold Fusion
Antennae and abdomen

Furries
Capybara wearing a Ken Jennings suit.

Quonset Huts
All living within social media, they are their avatars.
Robot owls. Like Blade Runner. Or clash of the titans.

Peak Phosphorus
80% phosphorus in their pseudopods.
Sentient acacia trees who talk using pheromones saying “the ants will not shut up!”

Four Color Map Theorem
Higher dimensional beings. Four dimensional crystals. Or many dimensional fungus.

Canning
Pacific salmons.
Or maybe sentient botulism.
Or maybe super intelligent yet annoyed sea lions.

Bob Dylan’s Christian Period
Have sentient fronds.

Lottery Winners
Baltimore is the main city.
The lottery is outlawed.
Aspens.

MSG
Sentient gluten wheat.

Jugglos
Everyone lives in Plimptonia or Jugglonia.

A slow as possible
Future octopuses
Play music with their wings. Sentient wheat chaff with tendrils.

Sliced Bread
Mouths, mandibles, Gastropoda, pheromones.

Icelandic Incest
All descendants of the third cousins of John and Ken’s offspring.

Ticker Tape Parade
All worship the giant styrofoam Ken Jennings head.
Bipedal octopuses clacking their beaks.

Angels Dance on the Head of Pin
Shades of blue? They will know how many of them can fit on the head of a pin.

Jonny Appleseed
Sentient Apple trees.

Government Cheese
Libertarian Coral Reefs
Self-aware green bean casserole.

Faces of Death
Made out of skateboards. Sentient longboards are the ruling class.

No fault marriages
Jenningites and Roderickites with opposing views on marriage.
Hyper political algae mats wearing whip inflation now buttons.
Intelligent whirling trash gyre in the ocean.

Porfirio Rubirosa
Ethereal beings with 11 inch cocks. With whispy children and gas for ears.

Fern fever
Propagate via spores.

Mother Jones
Super intelligent yellow fever virus.
The Rite of Spring Riots
Cuttlefish people.
Crustaceans with ears.
Single sentient being pure of Zuckerburgian infiltration.

Duchess of Bedford
Filter feeders, eat one turtle per yea, live under constantly dark skies.
Sea creatures filtering krill through baleen continuously.
Ants with a singular intelligence.

Square Dancing
Sentient octopus that are basically parachutes.

Ada Lovelace
The beings left behind after The Rapture.

Interferon
Cowctopus (octopus mixed with cow)
Pigtopuses are our current listeners?

Christmas Pickle
Billions of years in the future and the planet Earth has fallen into the sun, the calendar is based on stars.

Induced Demand
Iguana Jellyfish hybrids.

Byzantine Rhinokopia
Dogs with object permanence.

The Tech Model Railway Club
Sentient Squirrels

Backgammon.
Tentacles or imaginary tentacles, used to play the oldest game, Backgammon. Still love backgammon.

George Bush’s Crack Dealer
Robots sad they can’t feel the highest highs.

The Death of Trolleys
Equine ancestors or centaurs.

Coppicing
Sentient aspens

The Tootsie Roll Indian
Sentient Math

Longitudinal Film
Don’t worry about ageing. Made entirely out of genes.
Sentient versions of the show: John robots and ken robots.

Cow Magnets
Self-aware bezoars.

Hikikomori
Only social media animal avatars.

The De Haviland Beaver
Sentient De Haviland Beavers... or sentient actual beavers who are resentful of the plane taking their name.

Bode’s Law
A society of prey species and predator species, only one side of which are listening to Omnibus episodes for mindless entertainment/ ideas for good governance/ etc.

Ferdinandia
Squids with eyebrows.
Future citizens of Ferdinandia curious about the weird Medusa flag.

Chick tracts
Sentient Golden Mist.

Roald Amundsen’s Airship.
Senitient pixels in google earth.
Sentient Italian fusilli.

Pulsars, Discovery of
Emotionally sentient Nobel prize rejected scientists.

Sea Silk
Sentient hoodies.

Deborah Sampson
Probably all female. Makes aren’t needed.

Fletcherism
No mouths, only “eat” UV light shining on their body.

Hanky Codes
Sentient aspens.
Everyone has two mothers.

The Guru Letters
Giant sentient mosquitos.

The Phoebus Cartel
Sentient lightbulb tungsten creatures.

Tibetan Memory Trick
Sentient Limerick Oysters.

Sister Cities
Sentient earth due to connected nodes of sister cities.

Dutch Elm Disease
Two races of sentient trees: deciduous and evergreen.
Replica humans resistant to viruses.

Vesna Vulovic
John’s beard has become sentient.

Lilith
Lilith is the number one god of the futurelings.

Billboards
Snails?

Change of Gauge
See in infrared.
Sentient train cars.
120% Basque.

Generic Food
Sentient Pigglywiggies laying down the with Sentient Food Lions.

Take Ivy
All naked.
​ Mary Kay Pink Cadillacs
Live in Tupperware boxes

Aztec Death Whistles
Sentient Star Wars Action figures.

Seawise Giant
Sentient GSM (Greek shipping magnates)
Or sentient aspens who have never seen a ship.
submitted by lukeburrage to Futurelings [link] [comments]


2020.10.12 02:01 interestingperson19 Dating apps for real relationships?

So right now, I’m a junior in college, and really want to start dating. The problem is, I don’t drink or do any drugs for personal reasons. Since I don’t do any of those, the Greek life at my school is unfortunately not an option (even the tamer ones showed judgement), and the clubs here are mainly male dominated. I’m thinking of using apps like Tinder or Bumble to try and find a serious relationship.
What are your guys/gals’ opinions on using dating apps to find a real relationship (not hookup), and what are your stories with them? Are there any apps which I should use that are better for this?
(I guess also, if I can truly find relationships on these apps, what are some tips?)
submitted by interestingperson19 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.10 23:33 PlantaAliena My boyfriend (24 M) is jealous of my online friends (M/F 19-27) but I (24F) don’t wanna to stop talking to them.

My boyfriend and I have been together for 5 years and we live together. Throughout our relationship he has always loved video games and tried to get me into them. If there is one I like, odds are that he stops playing or decides he actually doesn’t like it.
It’s not rare for him to spend a few hours playing online with his irl friends. None of my irl friends play video games, so I usually never really had anyone to play with that wasn’t my bf or his friends.
Over the summer, during quarantine, he introduced me to an online multiplayer game. He ended up deciding it wasn’t his thing but I really enjoyed it. I had nothing to do while being stuck at home and I began playing a lot. He was fine with this and would do his own thing. Then I met some people in the game that I liked playing with and eventually joined a discord server with them.
They were from all around the country, very nice, and didn’t care that I was bad at the game. They helped teach me how to play better and I began looking forward to playing every day. Eventually we started playing other games together, ones my boyfriend said didn’t like and wouldn’t play with me, they made me an admin on the server, and usually there would be at least 5-8 of us on at any given time and voice chatting.
I was starved for friends and human interaction after being alone due to Covid and it was really refreshing. I eventually exchanged snapchats with a few of them and we would also zoom together and talk. One of the girls even recommended we start a book club and I’ve been having a lot of fun with that. My boyfriend doesn’t like to read so I never get to discuss books with him.
These people have never been creepy, flirtatious, or crossed any boundaries. All our interactions have been innocent and friendly. We talk about video games a lot, but also about our lives. We’ve helped each other through natural disasters, break ups, deaths in the family, etc. and I consider them friends even if I’ve never actually met them.
Another thing I like is that they can be really goofy and light hearted and it is so so so nice to hear people talk about literally anything that isn’t work/politics/covid19. That is all my boyfriend wants to talk about right now and if I have to sit through another rant about some coworker I’m going to scream. I just need a break from reality and sometimes I want to talk about stupid stuff like “Do you like the moon or the stars better?” “What’s the worst book you had read in high school?” “Who is your favorite Greek God?”
We recently tried to go out on a date and in the car he said I’ve been distant from him. I said I felt I was pulling away because anytime I talked to him he makes it about work or politics and our entire conversation is absorbed by it until I feel drained. This is an issue I have brought up multiple times. I cannot remember the last time we had a simple conversation that wasn’t about one of those subjects or food or our cat. I tried to express this and he got angry and said he wasn’t like that. We got to our destination, he deemed it too crowded and dangerous with covid and we went home. On the ride home he once again started an insane 25 minute rant about a project at work and the whole time I just wanted to bang my head against the window. I brought this up again and he said “well who am I supposed to talk to about this?” The problem is that he never wants help or solutions, he gets mad if I offer them, he just want to complain until I’m literally falling asleep. I tried multiple times to change the subject to something light hearted or funny and got turned down.
Lately my boyfriend has gotten suspicious and accusatory towards me. Our condo heating/cooling is controlled by the HOA so when they turn the heat on, we can’t switch back to AC. As a result, it’s been really hot in our house.
I went and stepped outside on our balcony to get some cool air and kept talking to everyone in the discord via my phone while he was off playing guitar in another room. When I came back inside he was really upset and accused me of talking to other guys behind his back and liking the attention.
While I was talking to guys, it was in a group call with 2 other girls too, and the guys literally live on the other side of the country and are just my friends. I explained this and he was still upset and said he still felt I was cheating.
Part of me thinks I should just invite him to join the discord but I’m also really enjoying having a space that is just my own. I have been feeling sort of claustrophobic and smothered with him and I both working from home and it’s kind of nice having something just for me.
Before all this, he had zero problem with leaving me all alone and by myself while he played games with his irl friends, but now that I’m doing it with online friends it’s like a giant double standard and he has suddenly become paranoid and clingy and it’s honestly driving me away.
I don’t even spend that much time talking to them! Maybe 2-3 hours a day? And I usually wait until he is doing something else or check if he wants to hang out first. He used to spend like 4-6 hours a night on discord with his friends so I thought my time wasn’t nearly as bad.
This is causing a lot of tension between us when I don’t want there to be. He insists the problem is solely me talking to my online friends but refuses to grasp that it extends beyond that and lies in our communication and how he acts in the time we spend together.
I am kind of at a loss. What should I do?
TL;DR: My bf is jealous of my gaming friends but I don’t want to stop talking to them because I like the social outlet and talking about subjects he won’t entertain. What should I do?
submitted by PlantaAliena to relationships [link] [comments]


2020.10.10 20:49 matsucakes To my fellow hapa girls, do any of you ever feel less attractive than full Asian girls?

Because I do. Not necessarily because I’m half white. It’s because a lot of Asian girls are just so pretty. A lot of them have physical traits such as beautiful black silky hair, cute/beautiful facial features and petite bodies. But I’m tall, chubby, and my hair can be hard to manage and sometimes the ends of my hair get flipped and twisted, which I really hate. I’m not allowed to show pictures of my face but I’m basically a plain looking, racially ambiguous brunette. Plus I’ve got my dad’s nose which is some sort of Greek nose with a rounded tip. (IDK how to explain it lol)
I see even average looking AF as beautiful. Plus I’m fatter than my mom. I’m 5’7’ and I’m around 75-77 kg but my mom’s 5’3’ and weighs around 51 kg.
The fact that alot of young AF feel like white is more attractive is sad. It’s even more sad that a lot of these beautiful AF think white guys are attractive but Asian guys aren’t since I think Asians in general (though all Asians) have nice physical traits such as nice golden-ish skin tone, nice hair, nice metabolism, and cute facial features. I’m not at all against AF dating outside their race but I don’t like when some of them seem to be against the idea of dating Asian dudes. (Then again, Asians make up an extremely small % of the U.S. population. )
I also think hapa girls are pretty too but ironically, I just feel kinda plain looking. Do you any hapa girls on the sub feel like full Asian girls are super pretty? Have you ever felt jealous of full Asian chicks?
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2020.10.10 11:17 throwRAYeetman I (21M) am struggling to talk to my grandmother (71F) about my mother's (50F) relationships

Alright, to preface this, this is my first actual post here, alt or otherwise. Not sure why tbh, none of my family is good with technology, nor do any of them actually use reddit, but whatever.
So, to start off, I live with my grandmother. My mother lives close by (literally down the street), however I don't live with her because her living conditions aren't really fit for me. I got a lot of medical issues, and living there would make them a lot worse, but that isn't what this is about.
My grandmother barely speaks English. Basically greek only, and while I can understand whatever she says, my responses back are usually in broken Greek, or in Greeklish, which she barely understands. Now the issue I'm asking for advice has kinda been going on for about ten years, and I've never really bothered asking for help with it, I usually just buckle up and take it on the chin.
She pays my mothers bills because she's been out of work for years now, though she's doing her best to get one, COVID has kinda made that yell. Now this is a very important part that I forgot to add earlier so I've gone back to add it in before I get to the juicy shit, so I'm sorry if it shows in the formatting. My mum owes her upwards of 10,000AUD, and it's getting higher every month because my grandmother pays her bills.
My mum isn't married, and I haven't even met my father, so obviously during my life there's been a lot of boyfriends in her life. Some bad, some worse, some a little bit less bad than the others, but her last one has been going on for probably since I started high school, so about 9~ years ago. Now, he's pretty chill. We play games online together, we shit talk each other a load, and act like regular friends. I think the reason behind this is because he's closer to my age than he is hers, but I'm fine with that, if it makes her happy, power to her, she can date whoever she wants. Literally not my business as long as my mum is safe and whatnot. However, he isn't good enough for my grandmother. He isn't her ideal version of a man, ALA repairman, carpenter, plumber all in one super guy. I can do a lot more housework and menial labour than he can, but that's just because I grew up as the "man of the house", so I was basically forced into doing that. My grandmother thinks that what my mum is doing (sleeping with him before being married, etc), is against gods will, yada yada all that religious stuff. I used to care about it, now I don't, so I'm sorry if I'm being very dismissive of peoples religion, it isn't my intent, I'm just sick and tired of it.
Anyway, my mother and my grandmother get in spats all the time over my mothers boyfriend, and it usually ends in scream-fests that I try to mediate and only end up yelling louder than the both of them. I'd rather their anger be directed at me than each other, tbh, so it works out in the end. Anyway, today I was pulled out into the living room by my grandmother while my mum was at her house down the road, and told that what my mother was doing was horrible, and that my grandmother was suffering because of it because god would punish her daughter and it would tear my grandmothers heart apart, yada yada all that sort of stuff. She said that because they've been together so long, that they should at least officiate it, mostly so the boyfriend can permanently move in with my mum, or my mum can move in with her boyfriend, etc etc, so they can share money like "regular couples", so the boyfriend can pay my mums bills so my grandmother no longer has to. Now this I can understand. She's on her pension, and she's basically paying for me as well as herself in this house, not to mention the bills of another household, I know that money is a problem so I do my best to compensate for her. I barely eat, and if I do eat I pay for it myself, I pay for as much of the bills I can every month, etc etc.
But what really got me today, is when she pulled me aside, as I was walking away after I couldn't be bothered to listen to her demean my mum, she said that she has a notepad that she refuses to show me, outlining every time my mother has ever done something "wrong" to her (her being grandmother), and she doesn't show it to me, because if I saw it I'd "see my mother as the horrible human being she actually is". I didn't respond, just went back to my room and began typing this. Honestly, I've no clue how to respond, what I should tell my mum and what I should keep to myself. If mum finds out, she's just going to yell at my grandmother more, and the circle will continue. I've recommended a family councilor for the both of them, and they've both utterly refused. I love them both dearly, and I honestly wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my grandmother, I just don't think I can handle her throwing such venomous jabs at my mother anymore. I don't want to explode at her and start screaming, but at this point I just have no clue what else to do.

So yeah, there's the post. I'm really sorry about the formatting, I just started typing everything that came to mind, so I'm sure points are jumbled and convoluted, and I really apologise for that. I'm not used to speaking my mind at all, but I did my best. Sorry if I'm hard to understand!
submitted by throwRAYeetman to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.10 04:05 abclucid “Religion is a Tool Used To Divide Us”

How many times am I going to here this as a response to Christian posts? As long as they exist?
I want to establish to everyone reading this right now that Christianity and it’s premise is very different from other religions. I will come full circle on this later.

Religion

“The definition of religion is a controversial and complicated subject in religious studies with scholars failing to agree on any one definition” -Wikipedia
Oxford Dictionaries defines religion as the belief in and worship of a superhuman controlling power, especially a personal God or gods.
There is a lot of western bias in defining religion. I am in a religion course right now in college and my professor took the first 5 weeks of class to go over what religion really means. A number of scholars have pointed out that the terminology used in the study of religion in the west derives from Judeo-Christian tradition, and that the basic assumptions of religion as an analytical category are all Western in origin.
Daniel Dubuisson, a French anthropologist, argues that the idea of religion has changed a lot over time and that one cannot fully understand its development by relying on consistent use of the term, which "tends to minimize or cancel out the role of history".
"What the West and the history of religions in its wake have objectified under the name 'religion' is ... something quite unique, which could be appropriate only to itself and its own history."
George Lindbeck, a Lutheran and a postliberal theologian says that religion does not refer to belief in God or a transcendent Absolute, but rather to "a kind of cultural and/or linguistic framework or medium that shapes the entirety of life and thought ... it is similar to an idiom that makes possible the description of realities, the formulation of beliefs, and the experiencing of inner attitudes, feelings, and sentiments."
The scholars of philosophy of religion see the definitions of religion tend to suffer from one of two problems:
1) they are either too narrow and exclude many belief systems which most agree as religious, or
2) they are too vague, wide, generic and ambiguous, suggesting that just about any and everything is a religion
Thus given all of this it is pretty much a nothing sandwich to ignorantly make the claim “religion is a tool to divide us”. That is such a vague blanket statement that is being applied to any and all things in the world that involve anything remotely close to what we think of as religion. Extrapolating your “religion” definition outward (requiring generality) will lead you to the conclusion that things you normally wouldn’t consider religion could be thrown under that definition, thus making the statement too vague and unreliable. Minimizing your definition of religion to be more strict will ultimately exclude certain ways of spirituality as presented, leading to the conclusion that you cannot cover all of the religions you wish to demonize.
There is also this idea that is somehow floating around here that just because a religion can be used to divide people, that it’s somehow automatically not true. This is just foolish.
ANYTHING YOU CAN THINK OF can be a tool.
ANYTHING.
And guess what? If there really is a group of men that control the world in various ways, THEY ARE GOING TO USE EVERYTHING THEY CAN FOR THEIR PURPOSES. Duh, right?
So let’s just assume for a second that Christianity is 100% true, the Bible is all true. Can the (might I remind you they are proven Luciferian) ritualistic child molesters use the Bible in ways to discredit it?
Yeah... they can...
So let’s just stop right there, there absolutely is no logical connection from
Can be used for evil -> to -> is inherently wrong
That much is fact. You cannot take point A and say because B then C. It just does not work. Now I hope we can agree on that much. You don’t have to concede your atheism based on that, just please recognize how general a statement that is, and stop chucking it around wildly when people of faith make posts here involving religion.
You’re not enlightened, woke, illuminated, or above anyone in any way shape or form by vomiting that phrase. The only thing you can say is that they use the religion for evil, not that it is wrong. You are not taking down their entire belief with such a dumb statement, you are instead making a fool of yourself, demonstrating an ignorance of the truth of how each and every religion is a CASE BY CASE BASIS of truths and lies and working out philosophically, logically, and many other ways whether they hold up or not. I argue that no faith stands up to the scrutiny except Christianity.
But here’s the thing; Christianity, for the purposes of this conversation absolutely cannot be interchangeable with what the world on the surface perceived as “Christianity”
It is for this very reason you will have plenty of Christians that choose not to use the label “Christian”. They go out of their way to separate themselves from the corruption that the world sees as representative of Christianity. The best way I can summarize this, is that “modern Christianity” is not synonymous with the Bible.
Mega churches are preaching the prosperity gospel. I will be the first to say don’t go to them. They ARE AGENTS OF SATAN. Destroy the system from within, I mean why the hell wouldn’t you if you were Satan? You act like things can’t be tampered with and corrupted. And when I say that, don’t start typing about how the Bible is all corrupted. I will demonstrate things to you that you ought to know, atheist or Christian alike. As atheists, you should know the reliability of the Bible is absolutely unparalleled in history.
The Catholic system and church system has resulted in many pedo related things as you know. Again, find where the Bible promotes that? I can give you a verse that utterly condemns it:
Matthew 18:6 But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.
Now, that being said you CAN say the Bible is not true, separately, which is an entirely new discussion to be had. However you guys have some pretty terrible arguments for why it’s not true.
I have been slandered in the comments and heavily downvoted for things that once pressed on, you guys have no logic or actual substance of argument. Almost no one here has proposed anything substantial in the way of discrediting my ReLiGiOn.
Consider the following statements:
-The Bible says that God helps those who help themselves.
-The books of the New Testament were written centuries after the events they describe.
-Cleanliness is next to godliness is in the Bible. According to the Bible, the earth is flat.
-The earliest New Testament manuscripts go back only to the fourth or fifth centuries A.D.
-The Bible teaches that the earth is the center of the universe.
-The English Bible is a translation of a translation of a translation (etc.) of the original, and fresh errors were introduced in each stage of the process.
How many of these statements do you think are true?
The answer is that all of them are false. Yet these false impressions persist in the minds of many, and misinformation like this produces a skeptical attitude toward the Bible.

Biblical Reliability

How can you be sure that the Bible is the same now as when it was written? “The Bible has been copied and translated so many times! Haven't you ever played the game where people sit in a circle and pass a sentence from one person to the next until it comes back around in a completely distorted version? If that could happen in a room in just a few minutes, think of all the errors and changes that must have filled the Bible in the centuries since it was first written!”
There are three lines of evidence that support the claim that the biblical documents are reliable: these are the bibliographic test, the internal test, and the external test. The first test examines the biblical manuscripts, the second test deals with the claims made by the biblical authors, and the third test looks to outside confirmation of the biblical content.

I. The Bibliographic Test

A. THE QUANTITY OF MANUSCRIPTS
In the case of the Old Testament, there are a small number of Hebrew manuscripts, because the Jewish scribes ceremonially buried imperfect and worn manuscripts. Many ancient manuscripts were also lost or destroyed during Israel's turbulent history. Also, the Old Testament text was standardized by the Masoretic Jews by the sixth century A.D., and all manuscripts that deviated from the Masoretic Text were evidently eliminated. But the existing Hebrew manuscripts are supplemented by the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Septuagint (a third-century B.C. Greek translation of the Old Testament), the Samaritan Pentateuch, and the Targums (ancient paraphrases of the Old Testament), as well as the Talmud (teachings and commentaries related to the Hebrew Scriptures).
The quantity of New Testament manuscripts is unparalleled in ancient literature. There are over 5,000 Greek manuscripts, about 8,000 Latin manuscripts, and another 1,000 manuscripts in other languages (Syriac, Coptic, etc.). In addition to this extraordinary number, there are tens of thousands of citations of New Testament passages by the early church fathers. In contrast, the typical number of existing manuscript copies for any of the works of the Greek and Latin authors, such as Plato, Aristotle, Caesar, or Tacitus, ranges from one to 20.
B. THE QUALITY OF MANUSCRIPTS
Because of the great reverence the Jewish scribes held toward the Scriptures, they exercised extreme care in making new copies of the Hebrew Bible. The entire scribal process was specified in meticulous detail to minimize the possibility of even the slightest error. The number of letters, words, and lines were counted, and the middle letters of the Pentateuch and the Old Testament were determined. If a single mistake was discovered, the entire manuscript would be destroyed.
As a result of this extreme care, the quality of the manuscripts of the Hebrew Bible surpasses all other ancient manuscripts. The 1947 discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls provided a significant check on this, because these Hebrew scrolls antedate the earliest Masoretic Old Testament manuscripts by about 1,000 years. But in spite of this time span, the number of variant readings between the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Masoretic Text is quite small, and most of these are variations in spelling and style.
While the quality of the Old Testament manuscripts is excellent, that of the New Testament is very good--considerably better than the manuscript quality of other ancient documents. Because of the thousands of New Testament manuscripts, there are many variant readings, but these variants are actually used by scholars to reconstruct the original readings by determining which variant best explains the others in any given passage. Some of these variant readings crept into the manuscripts because of visual errors in copying or because of auditory errors when a group of scribes copied manuscripts that were read aloud. Other errors resulted from faulty writing, memory, and judgment, and still others from well-meaning scribes who thought they were correcting the text. Nevertheless, only a small number of these differences affect the sense of the passages, and only a fraction of these have any real consequences. Furthermore, no variant readings are significant enough to call into question any of the doctrines of the New Testament. The New Testament can be regarded as 99.5 percent pure, and the correct readings for the remaining 0.5 percent can often be ascertained with a fair degree of probability by the practice of textual criticism.
C. THE TIME SPAN OF MANUSCRIPTS
Apart from some fragments, the earliest Masoretic manuscript of the Old Testament is dated at A.D. 895. This is due to the systematic destruction of worn manuscripts by the Masoretic scribes. However, the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls dating from 200 B.C. to A.D. 68 drastically reduced the time span from the writing of the Old Testament books to our earliest copies of them.
The time span of the New Testament manuscripts is exceptional. The manuscripts written on papyrus came from the second and third centuries A.D. The John Rylands Fragment (P52) of the Gospel of John is dated at A.D. 117-38, only a few decades after the Gospel was written. The Bodmer Papyri are dated from A.D. 175-225, and the Chester Beatty Papyri date from about A.D. 250. The time span for most of the New Testament is less than 200 years (and some books are within 100 years) from the date of authorship to the date of our earliest manuscripts. This can be sharply contrasted with the average gap of over 1,000 years between the composition and the earliest copy of the writings of other ancient authors.
To summarize the bibliographic test, the Old and New Testaments enjoy far greater manuscript attestation in terms of quantity, quality, and time span than any other ancient documents.

II. The Internal Test

The second test of the reliability of the biblical documents asks, What claims does the Bible make about itself? This may appear to be circular reasoning. It sounds like we are using the testimony of the Bible to prove that the Bible is true. But we are really examining the truth claims of the various authors of the Bible and allowing them to speak for themselves. (Remember that the Bible is not one book but many books woven together.) This provides significant evidence that must not be ignored.
A number of biblical authors claim that their accounts are primary, not secondary. That is, the bulk of the Bible was written by people who were eyewitnesses of the events they recorded. John wrote in his Gospel, And he who has seen has borne witness, and his witness is true; and he knows that he is telling the truth, so that you also may believe (John 19:35; see 21:24). In his first epistle, John wrote, What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we beheld and our hands handled concerning the Word of life . . . what we have seen and heard we proclaim to you also (1 John 1:1, 3). Peter makes the same point abundantly clear: For we did not follow cleverly devised tales when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of His majesty (2 Peter 1:16; also see Acts 2:22; 1 Peter 5:1).
The independent eyewitness accounts in the New Testament of the life, death, and resurrection of Christ were written by people who were intimately acquainted with Jesus Christ. Their gospels and epistles reveal their integrity and complete commitment to the truth, and they maintained their testimony even through persecution and martyrdom. All the evidence inside and outside the New Testament runs contrary to the claim made by form criticism that the early church distorted the life and teachings of Christ. Most of the New Testament was written between A.D. 47 and 70, and all of it was complete before the end of the first century. There simply was not enough time for myths about Christ to be created and propagated. And the multitudes of eyewitnesses who were alive when the New Testament books began to be circulated would have challenged blatant historical fabrications about the life of Christ. The Bible places great stress on accurate historical details, and this is especially obvious in the Gospel of Luke and the Book of Acts, Luke's two-part masterpiece (see his prologue in Luke 1:1-4).

III. The External Test

Because the Scriptures continually refer to historical events, they are verifiable; their accuracy can be checked by external evidence. The chronological details in the prologue to Jeremiah (1:1-3) and in Luke 3:1-2 illustrate this. Ezekiel 1:2 allows us to date Ezekiel's first vision of God to the day (July 31, 592 B.C.).
The historicity of Jesus Christ is well-established by early Roman, Greek, and Jewish sources, and these extrabiblical writings affirm the major details of the New Testament portrait of the Lord. The first-century Jewish historian Flavius Josephus made specific references to John the Baptist, Jesus Christ, and James in his Antiquities of the Jews. In this work, Josephus gives us many background details about the Herods, the Sadducees and Pharisees, the high priests like Annas and Caiaphas, and the Roman emperors mentioned in the gospels and Acts.
We find another early secular reference to Jesus in a letter written a little after A.D. 73 by an imprisoned Syrian named Mara Bar-Serapion. This letter to his son compares the deaths of Socrates, Pythagoras, and Christ. Other first- and second-century writers who mention Christ include the Roman historians Cornelius Tacitus (Annals) and Suetonius (Life of Claudius, Lives of the Caesars), the Roman governor Pliny the Younger (Epistles), and the Greek satirist Lucian (On the Death of Peregrine). Jesus is also mentioned a number of times in the Jewish Talmud.
The Old and New Testaments make abundant references to nations, kings, battles, cities, mountains, rivers, buildings, treaties, customs, economics, politics, dates, etc. Because the historical narratives of the Bible are so specific, many of its details are open to archaeological investigation. While we cannot say that archaeology proves the authority of the Bible, it is fair to say that archaeological evidence has provided external confirmation of hundreds of biblical statements. Higher criticism in the 19th century made many damaging claims that would completely overthrow the integrity of the Bible, but the explosion of archaeological knowledge in the 20th century reversed almost all of these claims. Noted archaeologists such as William F. Albright, Nelson Glueck, and G. Ernest Wright developed a great respect for the historical accuracy of the Scriptures as a result of their work.
Out of the multitude of archaeological discoveries related to the Bible, consider a few examples to illustrate the remarkable external substantiation of biblical claims. Excavations at Nuzi (1925-41), Mari (discovered in 1933), and Alalakh (1937-39; 1946-49) provide helpful background information that fits well with the Genesis stories of the patriarchal period. The Nuzi tablets and Mari letters illustrate the patriarchal customs in great detail, and the Ras Shamra tablets discovered in ancient Ugarit in Syria shed much light on Hebrew prose and poetry and Canaanite culture. The Ebla tablets discovered recently in northern Syria also affirm the antiquity and accuracy of the Book of Genesis.
Some scholars once claimed that the Mosaic Law could not have been written by Moses, because writing was largely unknown at that time and because the law code of the Pentateuch was too sophisticated for that period. But the codified Laws of Hammurabi (ca. 1700 B.C.), the Lipit-Ishtar code (ca. 1860 B.C.), the Laws of Eshnunna (ca. 1950 B.C.), and the even earlier Ur-Nammu code have refuted these claims.
Quotes from Former Atheists:
Jim Wallace, former cold-case homicide detective, assistant professor of apologetics (Biola University), once vocal atheist:
“If skeptics were willing to give the Gospels the same ‘benefit of the doubt’ they are willing to give other ancient documents, the Gospels would easily pass the test of authorship”
Frank Tippler, mathematical physicist, cosmologist, joint appointment in the Departments of Mathematics and Physics at Tulane University:
“When I began my career as a cosmologist some twenty years ago, I was a convinced atheist. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that one day I would be writing a book purporting to show that the central claims of Judeo-Christian theology are in fact true, that these claims are straightforward deductions of the laws of physics as we now understand them. I have been forced into these conclusions by the inexorable logic of my own special branch of physics”
Alister McGrath, theologian, scientist, Anglican priest:
“Atheism, I began to realize, rested on a less-than-satisfactory evidential basis. The arguments that had once seemed bold, decisive, and conclusive increasingly turned out to be circular, tentative, and uncertain.”
“Christianity offers a worldview that leads to the generation of moral values and ideals that are able to give moral meaning and dignity to our existence”
Rick Oliver, member of American Federation of Herpetoculturalists, California Science Teachers Association, and New York Academy of Science:
“I remember how frustrated I became when, as a young atheist, I examined specimens under the microscope. I would often walk away and try to convince myself that I was not seeing examples of extraordinary design, but merely the product of some random, unexplained mutations”
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (1918 – 2008), Russian writer, winner of 1970 Nobel Prize in literature. Reveals life under the the state atheism and communism of the Soviet Union:
“Over a half century ago, while I was still a child, I recall hearing a number of old people offer the following explanation for the great disasters that had befallen Russia: “Men have forgotten God; that’s why all this has happened.” Since then I have spent well-nigh 50 years working on the history of our revolution; in the process I have read hundreds of books, collected hundreds of personal testimonies, and have already contributed eight volumes of my own toward the effort of clearing away the rubble left by that upheaval. But if I were asked today to formulate as concisely as possible the main cause of the ruinous revolution that swallowed up some 60 million of our people, I could not put it more accurately than to repeat: “Men have forgotten God; that’s why all this has happened”
Antony Flew (1923-2010), once leading atheist philosopher, part of analytic and evidentialist schools of thought. Strong advocate of atheism, criticizer of the idea of life after death, free will defense to the problem of evil, and the concept of God. 2003 signer of the Humanist Manifesto. Converted to deism in 2004, held to an Aristotelian notion of God:
”It now seems to me that the findings of more than fifty years of DNA research have provided materials for a new and enormously powerful argument to design.”
“I now believe there is a God…I now think it [the evidence] does point to a creative Intelligence almost entirely because of the DNA investigations. What I think the DNA material has done is that it has shown, by the almost unbelievable complexity of the arrangements which which are needed to produce life, that intelligence must have been involved in getting these extraordinarily diverse elements to work together.”
“…we have all the evidence we need in our immediate experience and that only a deliberate refusal to “look” is responsible for atheism of any variety.”
Francis Collins, geneticist respected for discoveries of disease genes and leadership of the Human Genome Project. Director of the National Institutes of Health. Author of numerous books on science, medicine, and spirituality:
“I believe God did intend, in giving us intelligence, to give us the opportunity to investigate and appreciate the wonders of His creation. He is not threatened by our scientific adventures.”
“The God of the Bible is also the God of the genome. He can be worshipped in the cathedral or in the laboratory. His creation is majestic, awesome, intricate and beautiful – and it cannot be at war with itself. Only we imperfect humans can start such battles. And only we can end them.”
Peter Hitchens, well-known English journalist, author, and brother of anti-theist Christopher Hitchens:
“I thought this gesture [burning his Bible] was a way of showing that I had finally rejected all the things that I had been brought up to believe, and I went on to behave for the next 20 years of my life exactly as if I didn’t believe in him [God], and that’s how I discovered in the end that what I had rejected was right.”
“The current intellectual assault on God in Europe and North America is in fact a specific attack on Christianity – the faith that stubbornly persists in the morality, laws, and government of the major Western countries. . . .The God they fight is the Christian God, because he is their own God. . . .God is the leftists’ chief rival. Christian belief, by subjecting all men to divine authority and by asserting in the words ‘My kingdom is not of this world’ that the ideal society does not exist in this life, is the most coherent and potent obstacle to secular utopianism. . . . the Bible angers and frustrates those who believe that the pursuit of a perfect society justifies the quest for absolute power.”
“…when it comes to the millions of small and tedious good deeds that are needed for a society to function with charity, honesty, and kindness, a shortage of believing Christians will lead to that society’s decay.”
Philip Vander Elst, freelance writer and lecturer of over 30 years in politics and journalism. Works for Areopagus Ministries:
“So, confronted by all these facts and arguments – philosophical, scientific, and historical – I surrendered my sword of unbelief to God, and asked Jesus to forgive my sins and come into my life during the hot, dry summer of 1976. In the years that have followed, I have never regretted that decision, despite many ups and downs and trials of my faith.”
Craig Keener, leading scholar, professor of New Testament at Asbury Theological Seminary, expert in Christian Origins:
“I thought that atheism was “smart.” When my grandmother argued for a first cause, I replied by postulating an infinite regression of causes (my arrogance left me unaware that my response violated modern physics!) Yet unknown to me, my father’s mother, sister, and the sister’s family were praying for our family. When I was 13, reading Plato raised for me the question of life after death, but Plato’s answers did not seem adequate. I began to realize that only an infinite Being could guarantee the hope of eternal life. Yet if such a Being existed, there seemed no reason why that Being would care about me, even if that Being were perfectly loving enough to give life to some. I was incurably selfish and undeserving of a loving Being’s attention; it seemed to me that if I pretended to love, it was only for the self-serving purpose of getting that Being’s attention. Yet shortly before I turned 15, I began to secretly cry out, “God, if You are there—please show me.”

Conclusion

What do so, so many testimonies have in common?
Reaching a place of humility and calling out to God to reveal himself. Now if you do this with a hardened heart, for example praying for God to reveal himself to you with the expectation that nothing will happen, then you can go prove Christians wrong, you won’t be met with God’s love likely. You must come from a place of humility. As if to say “god I don’t know if you’re real or not. I don’t know what to think about all of the conflicting things I’m feeling but I’m going to just throw myself upon you and put my trust in you, pleas reveal yourself to me” or a variation thereof, but ultimately keeping Jesus in the equation, since biblically Jesus is God.
A refusal to open your heart will result in you being atheist your whole life. You may open your heart to humans, to plants, to their animals, to spirits and principalities, but you will harden your heart when it comes to God.
Pray for Jesus to reveal himself to you with all your heart. Put your trust in him and you WILL be saved.
Stop equating all religions, and wrapping them up in a blanket of generalized conspiracy statements that are also true about many other things.
Stop acting like Christianity is similar to other religions, it’s really not. In all other major religions the focus is on man and his works, what he does with his life and how he is, “the way”, etc etc. Christianity stands out in that it is not about woman reaching up to Gods standard, it is recognizing that that is impossible, (place of humility in comparison to God) and that he is the only way for you to be saved, Jesus.
The minute you put your faith in him you are SEALED with the Holy Spirit, one of the persons of the triune Godhead. The Holy Spirit then begins to work in you to try and conform you to the image of Christ. This is sanctification, and never ends as long as we are alive. When we die, that is glorification, when we are finally departed from our flesh nature part of our being, and receive glorified bodies, the same as what Jesus appeared to his disciples in after he rose from the dead. We could probably fly, walk through walls, and more.
The Holy Spirit will never leave you, you cannot be separated from Gods love. Becoming a Christian means you put your faith in him and align your will with his. You choose to be part of Gods family, then he adopts you into it, and will never leave you. You may leave him, but God is always right there for when you come back to him.
God will not “straighten out” those who are not his children. Atheists, you choose not to be in Gods family so God will not spiritually guide you and conform you to be better. Part of a Christian “walk” is that you encounter things that purposely are meant to strengthen you in your relationship with God. That could include many hardships. God doesn’t promise us the world, because we are in this world but not of it. Our minds are set on the things above, not on the treasures of the earth, which are transient, and will ultimately be destroyed or corrupted. Build up your treasures in heaven, where thieves do not come to steal, where the air doesn’t corrupt it, where only peace and love in Jesus exists. Pure joy in Christ. God gives us small glimpses of that joy on earth if you’re a Christian. I’ve felt them. But it’s nothing compared to what is next.
Take the leap of faith, or don’t, it’s up to you. But don’t sit here slandering us for trying to follow Christ, someone we should all be able to agree was a fantastic model of excellence in human life.
The “Gospel” is not to be a good person. That comes with love for Jesus and what he did for us. This is the gospel:
1 Corinthians 15 1 ¶ Moreover, brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have received, and wherein ye stand; 2 By which also ye are saved, if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain. 3 ¶ For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures; 4 And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures:
Amen.
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2020.10.09 17:18 OldManJimster From my 18th birthday to my 20th, I wrote short book reviews immediately after finishing them. Here's all 31.

Some disclaimers: Infinite Jest's review is longer, not because I'm a college aged white guy who thinks it's my Bible, but because it's an edited down version of an email I sent to a high school teacher who recommended it to me. I also read plays and reviewed them during this time, but took those reviews out.
Kitchen Confidential: Fucking excellent book, great insights and narrative by Bourdain. Totally read it in his voice. Balances the biographical and informational very well.
Dune: Brilliant world building, it’s legacy speaks for itself. The political aspects of this story are what make it so special and important.
Kafka on the Shore: Awesome storytelling strategy of alternating chapters and connecting with war mystery. Crazy surrealist elements and interesting metaphors. A little on the nose and overly sexual, but well fleshed out characters. Murakami is an extremely matter of fact writer which takes some getting used to.
Blood Meridian: Incredible prose that makes you work and smile to understand. Gruesome and subtle.
East of Eden: Somehow makes you care about every member of the families over all three generations. Ending made me cry and the little world that Steinbeck creates is both natural and engaging. “Kind of about wanting to escape who you are and not being able to but other people being okay with that”
Guards, guards!: Hilarious, well fleshed out characters and dialogue. Super fun to read.
Wind Up Bird Chronicle: Interesting backstories for characters and dream sequences. Not entirely satisfying and seems too long for the themes it was trying to convey. Murakamis still a beast, though. The war story sticks with you.
Fun Home: Bechtel is a fun, striking writeartist and paints an incredible portrait of a family that is probably not too unusual, but becomes entirely unique.
The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down: Great ethnography about Hmong culture and American healthcare. Balances both sides, gives detailed history of Hmong, good sense of humor.
Infinite Jest: Before anything else, I think a good disclaimer would be that I have been fortunate enough in my own life not to have personally dealt with the two main themes IJ deals with: depression and addiction. But in that sense, Wallace does a wonderful job of illuminating them for those who have not faced them. The book goes into addiction and AA culture in great depth, with many sections of the book being dedicated to one-off stories of addiction from both those at AA meetings (and various subsets of the group) and those at the Ennet House where much of the novel takes place. A great majority of the iconic endnotes at the back of the book are just descriptions of the exact substance a character is talking about, including the company that made it and the exact scientific dose.
There are similarly lengthy excerpts just talking about depression/”ennui” in general, aside from when he talks of specific people’s depression. Half of the story is a loose yet vivid allegory to Hamlet, specifically the part that takes place at the Enfield Tennis Academy with the (arguable) main character Hal. I mean, the title of the freakin’ book is from the “alas poor Yorick” monologue, it’s not like Wallace was hiding the relation there.
I LOVED the maximalist style of this book: the endnotes, the deep dive-ins to minor characters, the scientific journal style of some of the novel/endnotes, the way that Wallace’s grammar and syntax would change depending on what character he was talking about (even in the third person). That kinda stuff is just right up my alley. I wouldn’t necessarily call it immersive, but definitely enjoyably extensive. That’s definitely one of the more polarizing parts of the book: I’ve seen folks say that much of the book could have been cut down to reduce fluff and frustration. But to me, that’s missing some of the point. Wallace gives you all this extraneous, detailed information about the world not just to help us infer some narrative questions we have at the end, but to include the reader as part of the storytelling process itself. This book is aware that you are reading it, if that makes sense. I honestly don’t know if that does.
Gosh, this fuckin’ book. The more I try to write about it the more impossible it seems to, but I imagine that’s expected. This book really had me laughing out loud a lot. Along with everything else, it’s definitely a satire with some seriously tight-nit writing. The foreword said that “there is not a lazy sentence in this book” and they were correct. But man, it is easy to miss really important information about the story if you’re not careful. The “ending” of the book that helps you infer what happens to the characters is in the first 100 pages. There’s wraiths. There’s floating dudes who lick your sweat off. There’s ginormous feral hamsters. Time is subsidized. There’s descriptions of rape, animal abuse, violence, and drug use that don’t pull their punches. Wallace predicted Netflix, Facetime, and honestly parts of the Trump presidency.
Wallace’s writing may be extraneous, but I’ll be goddamned if he was not one of the most lucid voices of hypermodernity, sincerity, and addiction I’ve ever read. It seriously pains me reading this book, which focuses so much on depression, knowing Wallace’s fate. But this book has seriously changed the way I view literature, and life I guess. Of course that would be different for an older, more well-read fellow like yourself. But that’s just literature, too. And it gives me joy that his legacy gets to live on in this way, where I can find out about a cool as hell book from a cool as hell high school English teacher and read it a couple years down the line. And I’ll definitely read it again.
The Hobbit: Fun, easy book to read. Something I wanna read to kids someday. A bit dated language and pacing but really enjoyable. I liked how Smaug wasn’t the end-all conflict.
Lord of the Rings Trilogy: High fantasy is just satisfying to read: the respectful dialogue, distinctions of races/lore, interesting places. Really subverts expectations plot-wise in regards to the ending, making it actually more realistic and melancholy. Just a good story clearly told with love and attention to detail.
Chapo Guide to Revolution: Just good takes for the most part. Voice can get a little over the top and requires you to know a lot about online political discourse and history in order to get a lot of the humor. Great artwork.
The Brothers Karamazov: Incredibly interesting look at late Tsarist Russia, and how Dostoyevsky was responding to changes in Orthodox Russian Christianity and socialism. All the characters are realistically confusing and contradictory. The stories like the Grand Inquisitor and Zosima’s life story are super interesting. Pretty funny at some points, like Snerigov not accepting the money and how the women act. Very heartfelt, real and human. Lots of cool philosophy and religious ideas.
Dear Committee Members: funny book entirely written in letters of recommendations. Funny, smart, sustains the tone and has good message of the decline of academia and the acceptance of failure. Would recommend as a quick read.
True Hallucinations: Shroom theory. Well written with an interesting narrative, but definitely an (enjoyable) slog due to the psychedelic subject matter and alchemical jargon. Interesting ideas and a unique window into intellectual hippie culture of the 70s.
The Name of the Wind: Cheesy, fun fantasy. Cool world building, cool magic system, mostly cool prose with some over-the-top, unsubtle stuff. Kvothe is a pretty boring protagonist since he’s just good at everything or gets good at everything. Still an engaging read that I wanted to finish even tho it wasn’t that satisfying.
Truth in Comedy: great beginners manual for improv, every person unfamiliar with improv should read.
Song of Solomon: Very interestingly written, occasional non chronological jumps. Incredible perspective on the connections black people have made to their past in America, and a refreshing look at female sexuality. Crazy characters that are still entirely believable.
Of Mice and Men: Wonderful short read, tragic and illuminating about working class issues. Surprisingly deep characters for such a short book.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: A book that was definitely important for its time in terms of its philosophy and its new views on technology and education. Hasn’t aged super well, has some fallacies in his points. I’ve realized I don’t always like books when the protagonist KNOWS they’re the protagonist. Gets a little annoying. This is deflected a bit by talking about Phaedrus in 3rd person but it’s a bit pretentious regardless. I enjoyed the actual narrative of the trip a lot, and his ideas of quality and gumption are both useful. Found myself zoning out a lot while reading, but more because the book made me think a lot rather than it being uninteresting. Tricks you into learning philosophy. Very unique narrative and philosophy for the time, with a cool ending.
Catcher in the Rye: Such an interesting narrative style and likely revolutionary at the time. A surprisingly touching look at what depression can look like, and the sort of layered feelings of teenage boys.
Slaughterhouse Five: wonderfully funny and morbid while remaining concise in its themes and ideas. Enjoyed the non chronological storytelling and narrative voice.
Stretching My Mind: collection of Edward Albee essays largely concerning artists and the collection/creation of art. Some great interviews dealing with critics, writing, and American culture.
In Cold Blood: Cool book that really views the crime and characters from all angles. Sometimes wished we could see directly how Capote fit into the events but I get why he kept himself out of the book. Just a wonderfully extensive and interesting read.
Circe: I forgot how much of a sucker I am for Greek mythology: used to be a big Percy Jackson fan so I suppose it’s the natural next step. The writing style at first left me wary, but it was so masterfully used that it really sucks you in. Awesome depth to characters and reimagining of classics.
Men at Arms: Forgot how much I love Terry Pratchett. Hilarious, clever, and really engaging read. So much fun and such great new characters!
Mitterhal’s Post: a very unique and creative book written by my friends father. Part 1 is a slow burn and surreal and Part 2 is more narrative driven. Fun world building that lets you put the pieces together yourself. Fun focus on characterization.
No Country for Old Men: I had already seen the movie, so reading the book made me respect the movie more. felt like I was reading a screenplay some times. Some of my favorite dialogue out of anything I’ve read. All the characters are fleshed out almost entirely through action and dialogue which was incredible.
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2020.10.09 16:00 Angel466 [Bob the hobo] A Celestial Wars Spin-Off Part 0185

PART ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FIVE
Friday
While she sat on my lap, Gerry surf/searched her phone for reputable tattoo parlours. I was heavily distracted, but when I saw the name of the parlour she was considering, I immediately shook my head. “Noooo,” I drawled, almost laughing at how bad an idea that place was. “That’s Soho!”
“Yeah,” Gerry agreed, looking at me weirdly. “It says that right here in the name. I like her work.”
“But Lucas is a Fifth Precinct beat cop, angel. If we go anywhere in the Fifth for this, I’ll absolutely, categorically guarantee you our timing will have him walking past those front windows the second my butt hits that chair.”
Geraldine ran her hands over my face, dusting her thumbs across my cheeks. “Baby, you’ve got to stop living in your parents’ shadows. You’re twenty years old now, for Chrissakes.”
“Still living at home. Still getting everything paid for by them. I can’t dig my heels in until I’m out of school, Gerry. Unlike your household, I’m a long way from the top of the food chain in mine.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Okay, clearly that didn’t come out the way I meant. “If my mom and dad say ‘Jump’, I say ‘How high’. And if any of my roommates report back to them, telling them that I was in a tattoo parlour two weeks before finals, no one will find my body.”
Gerry’s face puckered into a frown of consternation. “Your family is annoying. It’s like you’re twenty going on ten or something.”
“Can we just … pick a different shop? Please?” I asked, rather than argue against something we both knew was true. I had grave doubts they’d let me make my own choices once I did leave school, but that was future Me’s problem.
“Fine,” she huffed and went back to searching.
“Nothing in Soho.”
“I get it, honey-bear.”
I knew she was annoyed at me, but thankfully, I had her in the best position to fix that. I started walking my fingers down either side of her waist, drawing out each step to her ticklish spots. Two steps away from her sensitive spots, her lips curled into a smile even though she continued to stare at her phone. “Don’t you dare, mister,” she warned, dropping her elbows to clamp my hands against her side.
I kissed the back of her neck. “Or what?” I asked, burrowing my fingers ever closer to her ticklish spots.
“Or … no sex for you.” She changed pitch and tone as she said that, and I could tell she was mimicking someone who was laying down the law. I just didn’t know who. It must have shown on my face, for she stopped typing and twisted to face me. “You’ve never watched Seinfeld?”
I shook my head. Mom had always said forced comedy was insulting, so my first taste of anything that wasn’t informative was when I moved in with the guys. Robbie had since been working on my education in that regard, but according to him, it was still a work in progress.
Gerry sighed and shook her head as well. “Never mind. I’ll bring you up to speed when we move in together in a few months. Seinfeld is classic.”
I liked the sound of that. My rooms at Dad’s place were certainly big enough to fit us both now. I even had an unused office, and she could have as much of that dressing room as she wanted. “My bed has a sliding tv built into the base of it,” I said, with a waggle of my eyebrows. “I’m sure some cable company somewhere is running reruns.”
“There’s a few,” Gerry agreed, going back to her phone. “Okay, we’ll go over to Amityville then. It’s forty minutes away from Soho.”
I grimaced at the thought of that too. If I took too long getting home, there’d be a search party organised. Not to mention the ‘find a friend’ app that would tell them exactly where I was. They’d want to know why I was in Amityville, and I sucked at lying.
“Just tell them you’re picking up some new artwork with me,” Gerry said, reading my apprehension, still not looking at me. She then glanced at me and reached sideways for my backpack. “Here, I’ll do it.” She straightened with my phone in her hand, but as I was about to reach around her to type in the code, she typed it in herself, giggling at the way our picture on our first day together on the commons was my background. Then she glanced at me again. “You’ve unlocked it fifty million times in front of me, silly,” she said with a grin.
She then brought up my contacts list and looked back at me. “Who’s the easier to talk around? Your mom, or your dad?”
I felt my eyebrow arch, even as the other fell into a confused frown.
Gerry looked at my face and burst out laughing. “You’ve never pitted your parents against each other before, have you?”
“Ahhh … nooo,” I answered, shocked that she would even suggest it. “I kinda like breathing too much.” Holy hell. I’d be beaten into non-existence if I even thought about trying that! From both sides!
She hooked one hand around the back of my neck and kissed me until my shock wore off and I returned her kiss. “You are too effin’ adorable for words, Sam Wilcott.” She then twisted and laid back against my shoulder, still with my phone. “Okay, well, in my household, it’s definitely Daddy. So we’ll go with your dad.”
She tapped Dad in my contact list and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hi, no, it’s Geraldine. Sam’s girlfriend,” Gerry started, while I sat utterly frozen under her. “Yeah … no, he’s fine. He’s here getting a lift with me because his driver didn’t turn up to pick him up from school.”
Oh, I’d have heard Dad’s screech of WHAT?! from outside the car and two cars back, but Geraldine took the roar in her stride. “I know. You might want to have a strong word with him about that. Thomas would already be fired if he forgot to pick me up,” she lifted her chin away from the phone and said in a louder voice, “Wouldn’t you, Thomas?”
“Indeed, ma’am,” her chauffeur replied.
“But I just wanted to let you know that I need to pick up a few things from Amityville on my way home for this weekend, so we’ll be a little while and I didn’t want you to worry.” She straightened off me and grinned. “I know. We will. Did you want to talk to Sam? He’s right here … shaking his head at you …” Gerry laughed again. “Of course. Promise. Look forward to meeting you, Mr Arnav.”
Oh, how I cringed on that one too. Angus was right. I was going to have to tell her I was a Nascerdios. She disconnected the call and dropped my phone in her empty seat. “Sorted,” she declared and went back to kissing me once more.
I don’t know how Thomas did it, but three-quarters of an hour later, without any directions from us, he pulled up outside a State Farm insurance company. At first, I thought he was lost and looking for directions, but Gerry said, “We’re here,” and as soon as Thomas opened my door, she slid off my lap and climbed out, pulling me along behind her. As it turned out, it wasn’t the insurance company we were heading for at all. It was the tattoo parlour connected to the side of the brick building. It had its own quaint side entrance that was dwarfed by the insurance giant, but as soon as we reached the front door, the combination of brick and Greek columns was … aesthetically pleasing.
I don’t know what I was expecting. I guess a lifetime of thinking motorbike gangs and thugs and seedy establishments filled with leather and whips and secret passages into dark alleyways all went hand in hand. And maybe there was a hint of the macabre with all the fake skulls across the top of a bookshelf and the smattering of colour in the sugar skull artworks on the wall, but other than that, it was clean. Chairs and stools were in three different places, one of which had a woman with her shirt bunched around her throat and front draped over a massage chair, while a man a few years older than me was wearing glasses and a baseball cap on backwards was colouring in a dragon high on her shoulder.
Gerry elbowed me forward when I paused to watch the dragon colouring being applied. I didn’t remember much about the process from when I was twelve except how much it hurt and how much trouble I got into afterwards. Yet she wasn’t even flinching. It could’ve been a felt-tipped pen for all the reaction she was giving.
“Can I help you?” a woman roughly the same age as the other artist asked, coming in from a backroom or hallway. Again, I expected massive, smelly guys with artworks all over every inch of their skin and piercings everywhere. But the woman wore long sleeves, long pants, and large, wire-rimmed glasses that belonged more in a library than a tattoo shop. No way would I have picked either of them as a tattoo artist on the street. They looked like … regular people.
“Yes,” Gerry said, tightening her grip on my hand. “We’re looking at doing a couple of little thumbnail tattoos on our necks. If you have the time, we have the money.”
The woman looked us both over. “Thumbnails are actually harder to do than bigger images, due to their more intricate size. It won’t be much cheaper even if it is smaller, and depending on where on the throat you want it put, the pain scale can be off the charts for a first-timer. It’s not where I would recommend having a first tattoo. Plus, there's the issue of being a gang tattoo...”
Gerry brought up the first image of a baby long-haired honey bear. I had to admit, it was kinda cute, and about as far from a gang tattoo as one could possibly imagine. “I want the head of this, here,” she said, rubbing her finger along her carotid. “Where a hickey would normally go. You’re listed as reputable, so I’m assuming that’s not outside your capability.”
The woman’s features drew shuttered for a moment. Then she looked down at the image and nodded. “I can do it,” she agreed. She went back to one of the two empty stations and came back with a clipboard folder and pen. “You’ll both need to fill this out before I start.” Since she gave Gerry the folder, she looked at me and went on. “You need to go over the checklist and sign at the bottom. It’s a liability waiver that covers both your interests and ours. I won’t work around your carotid if you’ve been drinking, for example. Or taken any medications that causes your blood to thin. That’s the fastest way to bleed out.”
I hadn’t realised until then, that this could actually kill us.
“You okay, buddy?” the female artist asked, causing the other artist to look up from where he was working.
“Yeah,” I answered, swallowing hard. After all, it hadn’t started yet.
Gerry squeezed my hand. “I’ll go first,” she said with a reassuring smile as she passed me the clipboard with the first page folded back. “It’ll be fine.”
"You need to send that image to this phone number, so I can transfer it to a stencil out the back."
"No problem."
I let the two of them talk and ran my eye down the waiver list. The more things I saw that could potentially go wrong, the more unsure of this I became. But Gerry was already sliding into a seat and hooking her hair over her other shoulder to give the artist clear access to her throat.
“Last chance,” the artist said, snapping on the pair of black latex gloves and lowering herself to a wheeled stool.
Gerry looked up at me and smiled. “We’re doing this, aren’t we, honey-bear?”
I practically felt the artist’s ridiculing gaze at my pet name and how it correlated to Gerry’s chosen artwork, but I didn’t care.
At that stage, I was in.
In, with my girl.
God, I hoped I lived long enough to regret this.
Either that, or it killed me before my parents found out.
* * *

PART ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SIX

Previous Part 184
((All comments welcome))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work including previous parts or WPs: Angel466 or indexed here
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!
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2020.10.08 16:00 Angel466 [Bob the hobo] A Celestial Wars Spin-Off Part 0184

PART ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FOUR
Friday
I don’t know what I did wrong, but Gerry was mad at me.
The trip to school had been even more enjoyable than yesterday’s, as this time she brought the condoms.
Yes. CondomS.‘S’. Plural. And she was certainly happy enough when we finally arrived at school. (Thomas even took the long way without asking, but I didn’t mind so long as we still made it on time). Gerry wouldn’t let go of my hand as Thomas opened her door and she stepped out of the car, so I had to climb over the centre console to keep up with her. Then, as soon as my feet were on the ground, she swung around to face me in the middle of the crowded drop-off zone and ran her thumbs along the inside of my lapels. She had her hands hooked around my neck, she pulled me forward and kissed me again.
I wasn’t going to say no. I curled my hands around her waist and held her to me until our peers around us jeered and told us to get a room. Little did they know we’d just turned the back of her car into a makeshift room. When we broke away, she smiled up at me and ran her thumb over the spot on my neck where she’d sucked really hard, pushing my head to the right to look at it …
… and that was when her happy mood soured.
She caught my chin and pulled me back to look at her. Her face was marred with a frown of annoyance that I couldn’t understand. “What’s wrong, angel?” I asked because Gerry knew I wouldn't understand if she didn't tell me.
She forced a smile upon her unwilling lips and huffed. “Nothing, honey-bear. I’m just going to have to stay closer to you than I planned today.”
I didn’t have a problem with that plan. In fact, I grinned and tightened my grip around her waist. “How close?” I asked coyly.
That made her smile too. “You are incorrigible,” she snickered, dropping her hands to my chest and pushing against my hold.
Like I was ever going to let her go. “And insatiable,” I agreed.
As the day went on, Gerry stayed true to her word.
She stuck to me like glue, either curling her fingers through mine or rolling herself into one of my arms whenever the opportunity arose. In the subjects we didn’t share, she gave me such a forlorn look that I had a hard time focusing on the schoolwork. And after those classes, she was waiting for me outside my door. The only way she could’ve done that was if she left her classes on the other side of the campus a few minutes early, and I might've morphed into my mom for a second and scolded her for that.
Thinking about it, maybe that was why she was mad at me. She didn’t like being told no. But neither of our parents would be happy if they learned our grades had faltered at the finishing line due to our relationship. Mine would go as far as to forbid me from seeing her and in my Dad’s case, he could make that a reality. He had the money to make sure I never saw her again, and make me redo the whole semester's classes.
We only had three more weeks of school, and one of those was exams.
After that, the world would be our oyster. Gerry was the most passionate person I knew, and I could see that passion going a long way in Greenpeace. She fought tooth and nail for what she wanted and the cause would do well to have her amongst their ranks.
“But honey-bear! I missed you,” she whined, rolling her bottom lip into a pout that immediately knee-capped my lecture.
I sighed and cuddled her close. “I missed you too, angel,” I replied, kissing her hair, even if it had only been an hour and a half since I’d last seen her.
She was insecure about her weight. I got that. I’d seen her mom. There was nothing subtle about that woman’s disdain for imperfections, and I swear as long as I live I was never introducing Mrs Portsmith to Robbie.
He had the physique of a Greek god and ate his body weight in sugar and butter every day. The meals he made for us were healthy (for a loose definition of healthy), but overall he valued taste over calories. Health requirements were different. He somehow knew without me telling him that Gerry was a celiac and from that first day, my lunch pack had been gluten-free, except for the things labelled specifically for me. I could do without the love heart and the string of X’s and O’s he put after my name though. Seriously. Just saying. Gerry didn't like that either, and I made a mental note to ask him to stop.
All day, whenever I caught Geraldine staring at my neck, she had an annoyed look on her face. During the lunch break, she sat on my lap and sucked the loose skin of my throat between her teeth until it grew painful again. I wasn’t a fan of the sting, but it wasn’t much and it made her so happy when she sat back again that I grinned at her. “There,” she giggled, rubbing the spot, only to lean forward and kiss it lightly again. “Much better.”
I still didn’t know what she’d done, but that was hardly the point. So long as she was happy, I was happy.
A few minutes later, we were at our final class for the day. As the saying goes, three guesses whose, and the first two don’t count.
I led Geraldine to the back row of the auditorium, where hopefully Gillespie wouldn’t notice us. It took him a little while to find us, though that might have been more from the shocked gasp that Geraldine uttered at my side which echoed around the silent room. Everyone turned to look at her (me included), but her eyes were fixated once more on my neck.
“Is everything alright, Miss Portsmith?” Professor Gillespie sneered, staring up at us from the front of the room. “I’d hate to think my class was somehow interfering with your love life.”
It seemed to take a second for her to realise that she’d gained the whole class’ attention, and once she did, she immediately retreated. “Sorry, professor,” she said, lowering her eyes.
“One more outburst like that, and you’re out, Miss Portsmith. You and your boyfriend.”
There was nothing in those words to take as praise.
Not a damned thing.
Nevertheless, Gerry sat up a little straighter in her chair and preened as if she’d been given the greatest compliment in the world. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” Her fingers knotted through mine under her writing board, and when I squeezed, she turned to look at me. And then gave another tiny huff of annoyance.
What? I wanted to scream. After the class wrapped up, I pulled her to one side. “Gerry, for the love of God. What have I done, angel?” I pleaded, wanting to make things right with her, but not knowing how if she wouldn’t tell me.
She stared at me and combed her fingers through my hair. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan,” she said, then bounced up onto her toes and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “C’mon,” she said, pulling me towards the drop-off zone.
Like yesterday, I fully expected to find Angus waiting for me.
Only, he wasn’t.
Just to be sure, I did a full lap of the car park, in case he was driving a different car than my dad’s. Then I came back to Gerry who was still standing in the open doorway of her car, watching me over the roof. Thomas held her door handle. “I think I’m in the clear,” I said with a grin, kissing Gerry quickly over her door.
“Then get in, honey-bear. I’ve got some awesome plans for us this afternoon.”
We had tonight and the whole weekend ahead of us, but if she had something else in mind for this afternoon that I could squeeze in before I had to be home, hell yeah, I was in. To avoid wasting any more time, I ran around to the passenger side rear door as Thomas shut Geraldine’s door and let myself in. As I buckled my seatbelt, Thomas was already shutting my door too.
“Honey-bear, you know people who own Maybaches don’t have to put on seatbelts, right?”
Actually, I thought everyone who got in a car to go anywhere had to wear a seatbelt, irrespective of what car they drove. “We are going to be driving, aren’t we?” I mean, if she wanted to have more sex, I was plenty up for it, but somehow I got the feeling she meant in general. Like, for no reason. That didn’t sit overly well with me.
Thomas slid into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition, confirming our immediate departure. Gerry clambered across the console and plopped herself on my lap. She kissed me lightly, then said, “You know what I’m going to do?”
I had hopes. I was a guy with my girl on my lap after all. She sat back and tilted her head, gathering her hair and pulling it away from the left side of her neck. “Right here, I’m going to get the cutest little thumbnail honey-bear tattoo.”
“Why?”
I don’t think she liked my answer, but I couldn’t understand why she’d want to do something so permanent. Mom was dead against all tattoos. Like, killer, hard-on, dead against them.
There was this one time when a crewmember tried to talk me into getting a tattoo. I was twelve, going on thirteen, and at the time my voice had changed, so the crewman wanted to commemorate it with fresh ink. We got as far as his locked cabin where he traced in blue pen the outline of Poseidon’s trident on my right bicep and had the three prongs inked in. It had hurt like a bitch. I could’ve rolled up my sleeve, but he said it’d be easier if I took my shirt off entirely so he could gauge the best place to lay out the linework.
Personally, I didn’t see a problem with that, but Mom and the captain had gone absolutely ballistic when he kicked the door in and they saw what we were doing. Mom skull-dragged me out of there (and didn’t stop shouting at me once about being so stupid), while the captain and a few of the other crewman took turns beating my tattoo artist bloody.
My only saving grace was the crewman somehow messed up the process and a few hours later (after yet another stint in the bilge) when they sprayed me down, the ink on my arm washed off with all the grime. I didn’t see that crewman for the rest of the trip, and as soon as we got back, I was told they kicked him off the boat.
Come to think of it, I never saw him again either. Not on any of the other Greenpeace boats I worked on. He probably retired from the cause after the ass-whooping he got.
After that incident, I wouldn’t say I’d never get another tattoo, but for me, it’d have to really mean something. Like a special forces tattoo or the birth of a child or something.
Gerry cupped my face with her hands and pressed her forehead to mine. “Why? So that the whole world will know that I belong to you, honey-bear,” she said, kissing me again. Then her eyes widened theatrically. “I know! We could get matching ones! You could get the outline of an angel right here …” She touched the same spot on my neck where she’d nipped me twice today already. “Just a little thumbnail one, to show the world that I mean a lot to you too.”
I had a flashback to that time when I was twelve and swallowed. “Mom won’t like it,” I said, shaking my head.
Gerry snuggled against me, resting her head on my shoulder and throat. “It’s only a little one, and you could wear a band-aid and high collars whenever she comes to visit. She’ll never know.”
Oh, yes, she will. And if she didn’t, everyone else at my place soon would. Lucas didn't miss a freaking thing like that.
That’s also when I realised she didn’t know Mom was a more permanent feature than ‘just a visitor’ these days. “My mom’s practically moved back in with us,” I said. “I’d have to wear band-aids and turtlenecks all the time.”
Gerry nibbled gently on my earlobe. “Would that be so bad? To share a little secret with me?”
As my brain short-circuited, I could no longer decide.
* * *

PART ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FIVE

((AUTHOR’S NOTE: For those who didn’t catch on, how quick is Sam’s healing again? 🤔 )))
Previous Part 183
((All comments welcome))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work including previous parts or WPs: Angel466 or indexed here
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!
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