2021.10.25 14:53 Hoang_X Hurkacz and Roddick serve
2021.10.25 14:53 lite-work What is in DMT that melts plastic? Could it be the same thing that burned my lip?
So I had a lot of trouble trying to break through with a volt, and ended up pulling quite hard on several occasions. I'm not sure if it was just the heat from the volt that burned my lip or if some burning dmt came up and stuck on my lip. But this was like the beginning of the year and I thought it healed, but it just showed up again as if my lip is super dry and cracking in that same spot. I did buy the bubbler attachment to distance myself from the bowl, and I think it helped. But sometimes I still feel like I get it in my mouth, and it has like a tingling/burning sensation. I really dislike it.
What is in dmt that melts plastic? I feel like it was like a chemical-y burn that is taking forever to heal, or might not at all. I don't really want to do dmt again till it heals cause it made me self-conscious.
submitted by lite-work to DMT [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 First-Future-8858 🍰CAKEDoge 🍰Doxxed Team from Germany/Belgium - SAFU - Locked Liquidity - Long Term Project - a real gem 💎
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submitted by First-Future-8858 to SatoshiBets [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 derkimster Wildfire suffering Lake Tahoe now subjected to extreme side-effects of rainstorm
|submitted by derkimster to CaliforniaDisasters [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:53 bonobo_inc Man U supporters after Ole is sacked and United are still trash
|submitted by bonobo_inc to soccercirclejerk [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:53 ZoolShop COVID-19: UK records another 36,567 coronavirus cases - as 'technical issue' stalls Wales figures | UK News
2021.10.25 14:53 Parking-Advantage-49 Because chores can kill the neighbors' kid
|submitted by Parking-Advantage-49 to nothingeverhappens [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:53 josejoseph2712 Avocado leaves curling
2021.10.25 14:53 AppointmentNo808 h3tv has become my favorite pod on the channel
First off it’s the only good thing about monday’s
Secondly, I really look forward to the call ins. Even tho they are hard to listen to at times it makes it exciting each week
submitted by AppointmentNo808 to h3h3productions [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 Federal-Spirit-2100 Requesting copypasta for when people say taxing people insane amounts won’t stifle their innovation or incentive to produce
2021.10.25 14:53 natebnasty To any true NDE experiencers. My fiance passes away and I need to know he is ok.
My fiance passed away about 3 months ago. I am torn apart because he was the love of my life. A true soul mate and I am frantic to know where he is and if we will be together again. I keep hearing from people that life here means nothing to one's on the other side and it breaks my heart to think we won't be able to pick up where we left off. Does anyone that has had a true NDE have any insight that they can give me. I am desperate to know if is ok and that he still loves me. I want to be able to laugh and hold him again.
submitted by natebnasty to NDE [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 dirtygrove94 H: Offers. W: Troubleshooters explosive gat plasma
2021.10.25 14:53 CButler19 [Camryn Justice] #Browns Jedrick Wills Jr. said he didn't feel any drop-off with Case Keenum in at quarterback Thursday.
|submitted by CButler19 to Browns [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:53 Erutious Towesey Homestead- The Scarecrows Know
(Part 1- https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/qey0cg/the_towesey_homestead_part_1_the_field_prepares/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)
It started with the appearance of one unaccounted-for scarecrow.
"Brad, where did this scarecrow come from?"
Bradly, my oldest son, came up and looked at the strange scarecrow.
He was sitting in our west field, the cornfield, and he was sharing company with three other scarecrows. These three, however, were ones my sons and I had made in the barn. One bore the long dress my wife had donated to the cause, another bore a set of overalls with a slice up one knee that I had turned over. The third had a shirt and a pair of sweatpants from my middle son, Gregory. These three, I remembered. I should, after all, since I had built each of them.
This one, though, I did not.
It was a tall fellow, a wide boater hat sitting on a sack head with a pair of new-looking blue overalls and a checkered shirt in a dark blue/light blue pattern.
Brad took a long look and shook his head, "Nope, that doesn't look like one of the ones we made, daddy."
I scratched my chin, wondering if maybe it was something one of my other sons had erected, and shrugged it off as nothing.
One more scarecrow wouldn't hurt anything.
The next day, however, there was a new scarecrow in the east field.
My oldest and middle son, Brad and Greg, were with me as we checked the pole beans and weeded the squash when we came across a trampled patch of squash. Three perfect footprints could be seen in the remains of what had once been a large, healthy gourd. I looked around, looking for other squashed remains of vegetables when I saw another new scarecrow. This one was dressed in a slinky black cocktail dress, completed with a pair of strappy pumps at the bottom of the post. Someone had put lipstick and mascara on the burlap sack head to complete the illusion of a woman out for a night on the town..
I called for Greg, wanting him to bring me one of those pumps to check against the squashed gourd. Greg, however, was nowhere to be found. Brad came up instead and hooked one of the shoes, bringing it over almost gingerly. I appreciated his help, but Brad was begging to be under foot a bit too much. He and Greg had always been pretty close, but it seemed the two had had a fall out recently, which meant that he had spent a lot of time glued to my hip instead. I didn’t mind my sons company, but a sixteen year old boy should really be out chasing girls instead of being underfoot. Greg materialized out of the field then, brushing corn silk from his hair, and I wondered when he had had time to get over by the corn? I shrugged it off, holding the pump over the mark to prove what I already suspected.
It was a perfect match.
"What does it mean, Daddy?" asked Brad. He was the oldest but he had always been kind of a scared kid. His brother teased him about it, but I was starting to feel afraid of these things as well. This whole thing was a little creepy; people wandering around and leaving scarecrows in my field at night was more than a little spooky. I looked around the rows of pole beans as though expecting to see someone crouching there and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the autumn chill that was fast approaching.
"I don't know," I said to him, but I intended to find out.
I told my wife about my plans that night, seeing her looking less than enthused.
"So you want to sleep in tomorrow, letting your sons handle that day's duties, so you can keep watch in the hay barn tomorrow night?"
I told her that was the plan.
"Dale, who cares if people are leaving scarecrows in the field? One more scarecrow won't…."
"It's not the scarecrows," I said, cutting her off, "these people are trespassing and damaging my crops. I can't have that."
In the end, she only shrugged and told me to do what I wanted.
As I made my plans, however, it seemed that our mysterious trouble makers were making their own plans.
My sleep ended at about ten o'clock as my oldest came to wake me up.
"Sorry, daddy, but… .you're gonna wanna see this."
He was wrong, I didn't want to see it, but I did need to see it.
Someone had ruined eight of our pumpkins. This wouldn't have been such a loss, we had a whole field of pumpkins, but these pumpkins were in the small field near the barn. This was where we grew our state fair pumpkins. We had planted twenty. Of those twenty, only fifteen had taken. Of those fifteen, only seven were left, and two of those seven would have to be pulled as their roots were trampled.
In the small patch, seven scarecrows made a small circle in their midst.
I helped Brad dispose of the pumpkins. Greg was nowhere to be seen, and calling for him did very little. We had nearly cleaned up all the pumpkins by the time Greg came wandering out of the field to ask what had happened. Greg had been a strange boy as of late. He had always been so happy and outgoing, but this season he had been very moody. He spent a lot of time in the fields, just exploring and being out of the house, and I found myself wondering if he was smoking or maybe he had picked up a habit he didn't want us to know about. My wife said it was just a “a boy hitting that age” and reminded me that Brad had gotten a little moody at thirteen as well. The strangest part was that, sometimes, I almost felt like he was watching me from the crops, keeping tabs on me.
Watching me like I was the intruder.
He helped Brad take the wheelbarrows of smashed pumpkin away and Brad said he could handle the rest from here. They were on special leave from school, due to harvest preparation and he said the two of them could handle the rest today. I was up by then though, my mind angry and my head already making plans, so I told them I would help. We found five more new scarecrows, and that had only made me more furious. What in the hell was going on? Who were these people? Why were they coming onto my farm at night and making a mess of things?
I didn't know, but I intended to find out.
That night, I was sitting in the hay barn with a hunting rifle and a thermos of coffee just after ten as the family was getting good and asleep. I swept around with my binoculars, not really wanting to look through the sight if I didn't need to. I didn't want to shoot anyone if I didn't have to, but I was prepared to fire in the air or near them to scare them. A good scare might convince them that this little joke wasn't worth the effort, and then I could go back to farming in peace. I reached for my cup of coffee, the thermos within easy reach, and that was when I heard it.
From the field, wind rustled through the corn and the pole beans, and I picked up my binoculars to see if it was people in the crops or not. As I scanned, I heard a whispery voice, a spidery voice, and it called to me in the hayloft. I looked around to see if someone was calling up to me, but it was just me and crops out here. It came again then, that low, scuttling voice that told me to come out and walk amongst the corn, to stand amongst the squash.
It told me how nice it would be to walk barefoot in the soil, and, for a moment, it sounded like a good idea.
I had half gotten up to go do just that, and that was when I saw someone vault the back fence.
I shook off the funny mumbling and sighted him in my binoculars. He was bald, a long sleeve work shirt standing dark with sweat and a pair of black slacks that made him look like a floating torso in the dark. He was also Darius McAnn, the bartender at the Cloudy Schooner. What the hell was he doing here? The Schooner didn't even close for another five hours. He should be at work slinging suds and wrangling drunks, not...not….
Not running through my cornfield in the middle of the night.
I climbed down, taking care with the rifle as I sling it over my shoulder, and head out into the corn. My flashlight looked garish as it cuts through the shadows around the corn plants, but I knew that field like the back of my hand. I should, after all, since I've lived here for fifteen years. I've been planting corn, pumpkins, and beans since my oldest was a year old, and this is familiar ground to me. I head out amongst the stalks, hoping to head him off, but he's not where I expect him to be. I stopped, the moon high overhead, and turned in the direction he had been heading. I ran that way, expecting to hear the rustle any second now. Instead, I ran smack into a post.
I looked up the post and felt the hair stand up on my back.
On top of the post was a scarecrow.
A scarecrow dressed in the bartender's clothes and flapping lazily in the light breeze.
As I stood there, I heard others moving through the corn, taking paths at random, running off to do whatever it was that they did that turned them into scarecrows.
I’m not ashamed to say that I took off for the house. If you’ve never been in a tall field of vegetation, with things moving around you, then you may not understand how creepy it is. As I ran, I could see faces in the rows, people peeking through the rows and looking at me from farther out. I thought, for a moment, that some of those faces were even familiar, but, in my fear, I was fit for little more than running flat out for home. I went back inside and locked the door, needing to think about what I had seen, already certain I had fallen asleep in the loft.
When I woke up the next day, slumped across the couch, to find six new scarecrows in the field, I knew it had been no dream.
That afternoon, the Sheriff came to visit me.
Sheriff Dunland bore an unfortunate resemblance to Barney Fife. He had knocked on the door about noon, just as we were sitting down to lunch, and he swaggered into the kitchen with all the pomp his one hundred ten pound body could muster. He made the usual greetings, saying hello to my wife and sons, and then asked if he could steal me away for "just a minute."
"I promise he's not under arrest of nothin."
As we got to the front porch, he was already lighting one of those shitty home-rolled cigarettes.
"Sorry to pull ya out like this, but I'm working a couple of missing person cases, and I was wondering if you'd seen them."
I nodded, telling him I would help if I could and asking who was missing.
"Darius, the bartender at the Schooner, walked off last night under some pretty weird circumstances."
He told me that Darius had been cleaning glasses, serving the same six barflies he'd been serving since nine when he had suddenly looked out the batwings and walked out. The regulars hadn't thought much of it, but then he never came back to close up. "He's not at home, and he's not at the bar, so we're very curious as to where he might be," he said as he pitched his cigarette into the dirt.
I asked him what this had to do with me.
"Well, his truck is parked near the fence to your east field, so we was wondering if maybe you had seen him?"
That threw me. I hadn't even noticed the truck. I haven't yet been out to the east field today, so that wasn't altogether surprising, but it did explain how he had gotten to my house so quickly. I told the Sheriff that people had been coming out to leave Scarecrows on my property, probably a Halloween prank, but that they had been destroying my crops in the process. I said I thought I had seen him last night, even took him out to see the scarecrows, but he only shrugged and rolled a new cigarette.
"Sounds like kids playing tricks. I still can't imagine what Darius was doing in your field, but I still need to find him. If he should happen to turn up, you'll let me know, right?"
I told him I would, and he left by way of the east field.
When I came back, Thomas, my youngest, was sitting on the porch and looking out at the field. Thomas was six and not really old enough to help much in the fields. He tried though, he wanted to be just like his old man. He was a good boy.
I sat next to him on the swing and looked out at the fields too.
"Whatcha looking at, kiddo?"
"Just listening to them talk."
That made me furrow my brow a little, "Who." I asked, trying to hear what he was talking about.
"The scarecrows," he said, not taking his eyes of the crops as they swayed in the breeze, "cant you hear them?"
I looked out at the corn, the pole beans, the fields of produce, and shuddered a little as I watched the breeze play amongst it. I suppose I could hear something, something like I had heard the night before. It was a strange kind of whispering. I could hear it amongst the rattle of stray husk or the chuckle of bending stalks, but there was a harsher noise too. The creaking of old wooden stalks was audible in the wind now, too, and their chorus spoke of something very different. The call to the earth, the love of the land, the coming of the cold.
The coming of the Green.
I shook my head and told Thomas not to stay out here too long.
That night I was back in the barn, keeping watch over the crops. I didn't need the coffee tonight. I had only to think back on what my son had said and remember what I had heard scuttle through the fields to keep my spine chilled. Autumn was in the air, and it sounded as if the spirits were at work. City folk sometimes forget that fall is a time of growth but also a time of loss. We lay back to prepare for the coming winter, but the earth must also prepare for that hard freeze.
Sometimes, the earth is greedier than even we can imagine.
They started coming in at about eleven.
I could see them parting the corn as they ran. I tried to follow them with my binoculars, but it was in vain. I would lose sight of them, only to find a scarecrow a moment later. I was becoming frustrated because they never popped back up, and the scarecrows would go up. But how were they getting out again? They would make such a production of going into the field, only to disappear. What the hell was going on? Were they burrowing out like moles?
Then a screen door opened, and my attention was pulled back to my house.
I saw a little ghost in a long nightshirt streak into the cropland, his bare feet smacking the cold earth. I called out to him, but he never stopped. I cried out pitifully as he entered the corn, but he was gone amongst it in an instant. Not thinking about the fall, I leaped from the loft and thankfully landed in some deep hay. I was out and running in an instant, bolting for the place I had seen him disappear.
I was hot on Thomases heels as he dashed into the thick rows. His little nightgown, one of my old undershirts, flew behind him like a cape. Despite my long legs, he stayed one step ahead of me, and as we came into a patch of moonlight, I saw that he had stopped and stumbled to a halt myself. To this day, I don't know what I didn't just grab him. He was barely five feet away. I could have just reached out and grabbed him.
Instead, I was almost transfixed as the sounds of those scarecrows rustled around us.
"He comes with the wind."
"He comes with the cold."
"He comes with the harvest."
"He demands his sacrifice."
The words swirled around me, echoing in my head, carried by the wind, and they buffeted me like an angry sea.
My son turned to look at me, his eyes reflecting the light of the moon.
"The Green Man comes," he whispered, his voice high and cherubic.
Then, he simply sank into the ground, and I heard a scream rocket up my throat as he disappeared beneath the soil.
No matter how long I clawed at the earth, I could not find him.
After I'd dug a furrow four feet deep and still not found a trace of him, I was forced to give up.
It wasn't until I turned my back to go that I heard the creak of a wooden post.
The little scarecrow on the post was dressed only in my son's nightshirt, his charcoal face almost cherubic.
submitted by Erutious to stayawake [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 johnsaysthings Trick ‘r Treat: ‘The Halloween Bus Massacre’ Story Breakdown
|submitted by johnsaysthings to Scarymovies [link] [comments]|
2021.10.25 14:53 Massive_Dinner 🐺Safe Saitama 🐺 Fair Launching In 15 Minutes! | Earn Saitama tokens for holding! 30% of Supply Will Be Burnt 🔥 Anti-Whale & Anti-Bot Features
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submitted by Massive_Dinner to CryptoMoon [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 goddessintheflesh Falsely accused of stealing while at work
I frequent on this subreddit a lot and love it! (TLDR at the bottom) . I'm in need of advice! I'm in a very tough situation. On Saturday I was falsely accused of stealing while working. Btw I’m a black woman for reference. I work at a retail store that sells clothes, makeup accessories etc. I've been working at this specific location for 4 months but worked for this company for 3 years as a whole. While I was working I was called over by one of my managers. She told me Alice and her wanted to have a word with me. I also want to note that Alice seemed very mad at me and I had noticed her watching my during that shift that day.
They told me to follow them and took me to a private room. I had no idea what they pulled me over for. They both stood there in front of me and Sharon the one that called me over told me to empty out my pockets. I was a bit shocked. I followed as was said and emptied out my pockets. I showed them that my front and back pockets pockets were empty apart from the NYX lipstick I had in my pocket (one I was wearing that day) . They both seemed a bit surprised. They seemed to of expected for me to of stolen a lipstick from their company. (Which btw is literally sold for £1 so why would I bother stealing their low quality makeup? I don't own a single makeup product from the company I work at) .
Sharon then said "Oh! Well Alice said she saw you put something from the makeup department into your pocket while doing the returns (putting clothes/ items back onto the shop floor) . Alice seemed extremely embarrassed I see her turning red. She was very quiet the whole time. I feel like if you have the guts to make such a big accusation you should have the guts to be the one saying it!
Sharon then had the audacity to ask me "Do you know where to put the items when doing returns?" "Yes, I put them back onto the shop floor..." such a dumb question asking as if the n*gga chip inside of me would suddenly activate and cause for me to steal. I've been returning clothes onto the shop floor for months with no issues for months!
What really grinded my gears was that Sharon ended things saying "Well, next time just make sure to not put that in your pocket incase it causes another misunderstanding" . Basically making it seem like I caused this "misunderstanding" and projecting the blame onto me instead admitting THEY were in the wrong. When they falsely accused me! I just ended things saying that I've gotta go to my break.
This situation has left me feeling so upset and angry. Everytime I as a black person walk into a store I worry about people thinking I'm going to steal. I worry about the most innocent actions I make may be perceived as being suspicious. I worry about potentionally being falsely accused of stealing and that's EXACTLY what happened today. I never thought that I'd have to worry about this at a place I worked at.
I talked to 5 other people and they quickly said racism and felt like race played a part in this accusation. I talked to 4 other black people and 1 Asian guy. I just don't know what to do. I feel saddened especially since I wasn't even given the benefit of the doubt. There is literally nothing about me, my character, my work ethic, the way I dress that would've ever indicated that I was the type of person to steal. Nothing apart from the fact that I'm black. I can't help but wonder what if it was a white coworker doing the same thing? Would anyone's mind quickly jump to stealing? Or would it of just been brushed aside and given the benefit of the doubt.
I know some people will say this has nothing to do with race but black people are constantly being falsely accused of stealing! We're more likely to be falsely accused of stealing something that turned out to be our own belongings. What do you guys think? Do you think race potentionally played a part in influencing this assumption? I know that people have unconscious racial biases/stereotypes ingrained in them that influences how they see black people that they may not be consciously aware of.
I saw Alice on the shop floor afterwards and she has not said a word to me since. Sharon tried to awkwardly sweep things under the rug by doing her job and giving me orders to do as normal. Neither have apologised.
What would you do if you were in my position? Would you quit or keep going to work and move on? I already hated this job before this situation happened. They overwork us, always understaffed and the pay is only minimum wage. The only thing that I like about the job are the people I work with. I really do enjoy talking to them while I'm there. However this situation has left me in tears for days and feeling very uncomfortable. Apart of me is wondering if I’m just blowing this out of proportion.
TLDR; Got accused of stealing at work by 2 Asian female managers at work. Called me me to empty out my pockets only to find out they were wrong and have since not apologised and have attempted to sweep things under the rug by acting normal and projecting the blame onto me.
submitted by goddessintheflesh to antiwork [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 Specific-Worth-2529 DP: AMEX 61 day CLI Success
Today was 61 days since I opened my BCP so I decided to try for an increase just to keep utilization down. I logged on to the website this morning and went to the Request Increase page but got a loading error that said to try again later. I tried several times this morning and kept getting the same thing so I gave up and just chatted with a rep online. He just asked me a few verification questions, confirmed my income, and then approved the increase, available immediately!
Original Credit Line: $4,000
New Credit Line: $10,000
I know technically with the 3x I could’ve asked for 12k, but even at 10k this is my highest credit line card and I really had no need for a 12k credit line. Still really happy and loving the AMEX service experience so far.
submitted by Specific-Worth-2529 to CreditCards [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 Sueann_Mosses Showcasing What You Do
Displaying your dental work in the form of attractive photographs is an excellent way to encourage potential patients to choose the types of treatment shown in the images.
In this episode, Gary emphasizes the importance of showcasing your work and shares how dentists can leverage photographs to educate their patients and increase case acceptance: https://bit.ly/36b7gSc
submitted by Sueann_Mosses to profitable_practice [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 XxXSwisher420 Shpongle hits in the feels?
Some parts of shpongle songs make me tear up and cry. Just listen to divine moments of truth and it’s at 4:46. I think it also helps bring back memories of trips as well
submitted by XxXSwisher420 to DMT [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 beaver2206 Collectors market
Just a random thought, but do you think there will come a day when there exists a collectors market for 'vintage' drones, similar to old skool RC cars. For examples, in twenty years time, is there going to be a high value placed on a sealed original OG Phantom.
Lots of similarities with other objects and hobbies, though not enough time has yet passed I feel.
submitted by beaver2206 to drones [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 judge-b Anyone have an extra Dada Zarude code? FT: Arceus
Me and my brother both signed up and neither of us got a code sent to us. I tried emailing them and haven't heard back since. I have an extra Arceus if someone can help me out. Thanks!
submitted by judge-b to PokemonHome [link] [comments]
2021.10.25 14:53 Antique-Ad-5808 Darkrai on me 8393 0102 1415
2021.10.25 14:53 n2Otradamus_ A snap from yesterday while buying marigolds and calaveras ☺️
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2021.10.25 14:53 SpritzLike None of the kids trust Logan, but the prefer the devil they know to…