Salty icecream tiktok meaning

So basically I need some advice. I’m going to sound really crazy. So basically I had gotten into it with a drug dealer who was a “friend”. Basically he had allegedly abused me with a friend of mine when I was blackout at a trap house at like 22. I went to the trap later because I didn’t remember who this person was and that same person had set me up on a blind date with that dealer (my bf came to get me) basically he was acting salty every time after(I didn’t remember who he was until then, I have split second memory of some bad shit). There was a situation after this where he gave a man a ketamine taster and was basically making fun of him for overdosing. I had said some shit about him not being a good friend and was trying to get the man into a car to go home. I was in an alleyway and basically they had ran up on me with 11 men and threatened to stab me. After that everything was a mess because basically as an addict you can’t get into with the group, everyone needs to be happy. He was saying I insulted him after this and it was becoming a problem. Anyways we had run into each other at a party and basically I had apologized and he basically made it obvious he wanted me to stay (to fck basically) I didn’t stay because I’m afraid of this man. Flash back to a few weeks later and I ended up at birthday party of our mutual friend and had a friend with me. This dealer was at the party even though I had texted him and asked if he was going to be there and he said no, I feel like he was waiting for me like a trapdoor spider. We had ended up back at his trap and basically that’s where things went wrong, I was already fried like gone on drugs and I just got more fcked up as the night went on. The problem is my friend had ended up leaving me with this guy and basically dipping to take of his dog. He left me with my opp lol. Just because I apologized doesn’t mean things were good. I ended up in situation where I was basically alone with this dealer and we had hooked up. The problem is the small details, I was on a bender and blacked somewhere during the night, I don’t remember consenting to stay, I don’t remember consenting to a “search and seizure” if you know what I mean. I’m not sure how I got up the stairs to his room. I remember him ripping my clothes off me (darkness) and then basically waking up with this person on top of me. He then had threatened me to obey him and hit me several times. I feel like I was forced into this situation because I insulted him and he wanted to dehumanize me. Basically I feel coerced if nothing else because I was expected to keep the peace and respect him despite what he did. It ended up with me reporting him to the cops and instant retaliation from everyone around me. They threatened to beat me up several times, his hit man called me, he threatened me not to talk to the police and basically this man has just dominated my life. I had ended up sending him pictures I didn’t want to , to keep him happy and he sent them to his friends (revenge porn). He even came to another trap I was at just to ask about me and get information and smile at me. What exactly would you call this situation? He absolutely knew he could get me alone at 110lbs and being an absolute mess.

In Sharp Entertainemnt’s latest prod-uction, the only show with less self-control and more unrequited trauma than Gary Busey with a flamethrower, 90-Day Fiance: Before the 90-Days, we see our protagonists, introducing themselves to the world, and making a tri-, a return, will their love last, is it real, or, wait, are they talking to this person?
Amanda and Razvan
Amanda is a widow, her husband died of cancer, her children are half-orphans- and she is dating a year after losing her husband, she is fine, she is ready. Does Sharp Entertainment take Shriners Kids to bars and give them Cocaine because that’s what this, the death stuff is very sad, and the children but this.
Did Matt Sharp murder somebody, they are really trying to distract us with sympathy, you sociopath, the children's tears, I know, I know, but do you trust this, from Sharp Entertainment? I trust a raccoon in a whorehouse more than I do Sharp Entertainment eliciting sympathy.
Oh, they met on TikTok well, that, see, and he’s an actor and model, actors and models have a great track record, roll that beautiful disaster footage! Yep, they’re going to- stop beating up on a widow, I’m not, I’m beating up on the world.
Amanda goes to get a spray tan so she doesn’t get off the plane and look like a ghost, which honestly is a good idea, people kill ghosts in Romania, they are vampires. Amanda’s sister is also smart, she thinks Amanda is moving too fast and this relationship is a trainwreck, they are no Jack and Sally. She’s just trying to cover a void- she is totally being a Darcey, which makes her- where is her Florian? Is he also a wealth of wisdom and memes?
Amanda takes her two children to the park, to ignore them like Darcey, Aniko is currently climbing the trees with raccoons, her true family, mother abandoned me for two weeks, look that one is going for three, when are we going to raid a dumpster and film it for a Tiktok?
Amanda calls Ravan, and he has big romantic plans- that include shooting his music video, for his song, about her, also he did a porn, how many 90-Day Fiance Bingo categories does this cover?
Not David Murphey: Bawkawk!
Cultural Appropriation Crickets: My board needs to go to rehab.
Not David Murphey: Bawakawk!
Cultural Appropriation Crickets: Jump on that square, we need that toaster.
Signature bathtub toaster, enjoy breakfast and bathing in the most popular room- Natalie Wood commemorative life raft.
Cultural Appropriation Crickets: Come on Possessed Nespresso Machine!
Amanda buys her children some presents to bribe-
Not David Murphey: Bawkwak!
Cortney: What’s an asexual vibrator?
Amanda’s children have questions, along with the dad box which is a touching gesture but might become a meme, if it was the mom box it would be…mother boxes would be worse, trust me. Do they bring it everywhere? When they’re teenagers and, doing activities will they still have the dad box around? Serious question, I miss grandma but I don’t have a grandma box that I take into the bathroom with me, you’d be so proud of me grandpa, I had Taco Bell, I’m losing 10 pounds, so anyway how was your day?
Still dead? You’ve gotta get out more.
Gino and Jasmine
Jasmine has needs- $350 needs, $1750, Gino isn’t a gift guy but he likes sex. Which sex slave did these extensions come off of? That’s not funny, you’re right, it’s probably true. Want to know where the sparkles come from in makeup? Child labor. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that, I, people need to have real problems man. If Darcey enlisted in the army she would grow as a person.
Gino is going to go visit Jasmine in Panama, and show off his new clothes, and hats, and argue about sex and money. That Jasmine is spending at the doctor, for a tighter p****, did you know that Gino also has sex problems doctor? I’m going to tell the world about it! I’d like to teach Gino to c**, inside of me! This trip is their last chance, to get a pay raise, plastic surgery isn’t cheap. Is my rose chilled yet?
She’s getting drunk and doing a 90-Day Fiance review? Trust me, most people do. Most people also work, which upsets Jasmine, because she can’t talk to Gino as much, and spy on him, and hear his lies of approval, why won’t the US government let them be together?
Do they not believe in our love, or did Gino, who did the Visa Application by himself- Jasmine’s not stupid that might be it, she deserves a nice apartment, with their own bedroom, for sex, which starts a really sexy argument about fighting, and sex, and- I understand why the US Government doesn’t want them to be together.
This rose was not chilled yet, if you want to get drunk with me I am drinking Love Drunk Rose by Garage D’Or, Oregone, “When reality is better than your dreams!”, it’s quite good and very appropriate for the occasion.
Jasmine meets her totally platonic friend Dane at Coffee Max, she surprises him with the news that she’s hsi new neighbor, also, they used to date, you can’t bring enough autistic neurodivergent trans women into this to make this- might have just spoiled something for you, the violin is growing.
Jasmine and Gino’s trust issues definitely won’t- flash forwards to my favorite promo, it’ll be fine, if not, Dane and his muscular, good advice, is here, for you, in the same apartment building.
Riley and Violet
Riley is a big Jazz fan, and Elton John, also, he’s an elderly Luke Cage, who can’t dance, and is paranoid about life! Which is understandable given his history, is Elton John single? He’s very pretty, and rich. Is Riley the problem? A woman literally ran away from him.
Riley specifically downloaded a Vietnamese dating app, and found the youngest looking 43 year old woman in the world. Who is also smart, and clever, and so good Riley learned SOME Vietnamese, also, if you flip on your woman in Vietnam that means you love her, this is fine. Violet understands him.
Riley goes to help his friends with their Juneteenth celebration, where they will.
A Bless this relationship
B Sit around a campfire and sing Kumbaya
C Sell some Boombod
D Doubt this entire relationship and bring up evidence supporting their case
Did you pick D? How did you know, he’s bringing a ring, are they done doubting this, no, Violet does sound a little sus, they might- are they having food? God I love cornbread, it’s better to learn that your fiance is Evil Rose over cornbread. My grandma could die, again, but if you told me that over Honey Cake, I, I might be a sociopath, or hungry.
Tyray and Carmella
Is he playing an instrument and singing, this is his first, oh no, at least he isn’t on a boat. Tyray take care of his sick mother, his father was murdered- how many people did Matt Sharp kill? When will the tables turn on this one? Tyray is in love with Carmella, a woman who is real, whose face he has- the table just yeeted itself into a wall, yep, this, and his family doesn’t-
Satan: When did we get train tracks?
When- dodge! Ah, there it, I can’t stop looking at it, is that a car? No, that was Not David Murphey’s Taco Bell dinner- who gave him Taco Bell?
The producers also have bad news, and they tell Tyray in person, which-
Archangel Gabriel: Let me the f*** in your house!
Get off my lawn!
Archangel Gabriel: You are witnessing a miracle, one of your solar-powered lights is out.
Tyray has been messaging a man. So that’s-
Archangel Gabriel: I’m watering your flowers, you’re welcome!
This is going to be fun next week.
David and Sheila
A deaf guy, Matt Sharp is just a serial killer now, and he has multiple minimum-wage jobs? Subbed anime is really the best. Boarding school, and not being able to connect with people- is David Matt Sharp’s accomplice? There’s the music, here comes the wom- nope, it’s his ex-wah-man, here comes the new one, who is learning sign language!
What a- and he’s sending her money, which she does need, and $3,000 isn’t much, Caesar pocket change. But someone has to be suspicious.
I give this episode ⅘ stars, the highlight was Gino and Jasmine sticking to the traditional script, they’re not doing any of this sympathy bullshit, no, they, how many people did Matt Sharp murder? More representation and tragedy is coming next week, was Matt Sharp Jack the Ripper?
At least they'll start arguing next week, the one thing they’re supposed to be doing, and bangin’, that is also, sometimes it’s their job. Is that possessed Nespresso machine still up there? I never go swimming, I wouldn’t use the life raft.

On May 26 my TikTok account was logged out, I was suspended. I looked up to see how long tiktok temporary suspensions last and it says the maximum is a week. It’s June 4, which means it’s been over a week since my suspension started. Is it supposed to be like this? Or am I “temporarily suspended” forever?

I am probably going to be flamed but just know I mean this with all the best intent.
I am now 30, when I was 15 it was 15 years ago. That thought really made me reflect. Indeed my fellows it's speeding up each year, your parents are not lying.
I look back and think if I could share something for my younger dating self what would it be and it would have to be,
Dating edgy girls is extremely extremely tough.
Why?
Everything. Lets start at step 1.
Step 1: Finding the Mythical Human
There are not many, you're looking for a rare breed of human here. For every 25 common folk you walk past you get 1 edgy girl. The best places to find these folks are in busy moving areas of the city, concert venues, over priced family owned coffee shops, seedy venues, textile shops, online dating.
Step 2: Catching the Mythical Human
Honestly the easiest part! You find them at a venue usually they're very open to talking say all the right things that just melt you like warm butter. Pulling a number e z p z. Conversation with them if you're into the things they're into just flows. At this point: You're already screwed, she got you already ha!
For Females Reading, when a gal can talk to a guy about shared eclectic interests in depth we are absolutely and positively yours, there, I just revealed mankind's secret.
Step 3: The Realty.
Here's the thing, for every 1 of her there's about 2500 guys going for it. You thought you were the only one who saw that mythical human? Experienced Guys who like Edgy can spot thick eyeliner from 450 meters away. Way before your young self even had a chance!
Step 4: The Mental Games
With all the other suitors you're gonna be in a loop. Contact, strong contact, no contact behavior is hard to predict. Their group of friends is usually small and tightknit and she's more than likely interested in someone close to her. Subcultures people just stay closer to each other. Confidence will shake because you got a mythical fish on the line and they won't return your text. So close but so far.
Step 5: Where I am going to get flamed from
You reeled it in, you're hanging out, all's good all is great. Here's just some unspoken truths. 95% chance she will smoke marijuana + cigarettes. 99.9999% chance she's liberal. If these are deal breakers for you, good luck. 98% of them have anxiety/depression. If you don't have a tremendously high emotional intelligence good luck. Borderline personality disorder runs tremendously high in this community. If you know what that is you know how it's odd's against you in the relationship. Typically a strained relationship with the father which can lead to all sorts of other things. Don't believe me ? See the TikTok Below. https://www.tiktok.com/@svperdone/video/7109127728925920518?lang=en
Unfortunately mental health is a serious issue for this community and it's so darn sad it is. No offense to anyone with mental health issues but majority of folks want to date folks with little to no baggage, it's just human.
Step 6: Don't wreck yourself for anyone
Probably more flame but understand just because you reeled in your unicorn don't tolerate mental abuse. Don't FOMO yourself into believing it's the only fish in the sea. Here's where it gets REALLY REALLY HARD. You're going to have to go through a lot of these lovely folks to find the right one for you. Think about that low supply too! It gets very very discouraging and this is considering you're getting them too. That is another stress/challenge all in itself.
Step 7: Questioning your sanity
After a lot of attempts you might go insane thinking why do I have to look for these mythical humans? It's not by choice it's by design. Unfortunately they hypnotized you at a young age and nothing breaks that spell. Don't even appease the idea of dating the plane Jane. It's just a phase (mom), the second you see an alt girl focus goes right there and you're 13 and excited all over again.
Step 8: You will find them!
Lot of looking and a lot of time you will get there. It's very easy to get frustrated and upset with yourself thinking you're broken for trying to like such a unique person but trust me it's okay. My buddies as well as I have went down the road longer than some of you readers have been alive and it's one of struggle but ultimately when you find YOUR mythical unicorn alt girl it's the most fabulous relationship you will have with anyone.
Good Luck My Younger Guys :)

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Here is an example of one of our shows called "The Men's Guide To...": https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCyTCc27YT4C2mnwti_zq6lQ
Our little network is just a few friends, working in our spare time, to try to create a network of content and we hope you'll come and check us out! We're also open to collaberating, cross-promoting, and helping each other out.

Follow-up to my last post:
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An Attenborough documentary on dinosaurs with the same CGI that made The Jungle Book so lifelike? I couldn't think of a greater sell. But was it worth it? Would it give me the same sense of wonder that I felt when Walking with Dinosaurs came out 22 years earlier?
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The first episode, "Coasts", is overall the strongest episode of season 1. Starting immediately with a swimming t-rex (Tyrannosaurus rex) leading his children to an island where he smelled a dead archelon (species unknown, as no Maastrichtian-age archelon was ever found in the fossil record), that first scene showed the promise of the show as a whole. Seeing CG baby t-rexes interacting with live-action baby turtles is both concerning (as sea turtles are currently endangered) and entertaining, as they are demonstrated pretty goofily. But after that, we are done with dinosaurs for the rest of the episode.
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We cut to the one scene that, while endearing with a riveting soundtrack by power couple Anže Rozman and Kara Talve, does give me pause. The pterosaurs featured in that episode were based on bones so fragmentary that they couldn't be diagnosed. How can we be sure that Barbaridactylus was a member of the antlerwing family, Phosphatodraco a member of the simurgh family, or even Tethydraco a member of the pteranodon family? How do we even know what Alcione even looked like? Also, the score doesn't really match the slower, less urgent movements of the pterosaurs.
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The next scene was described as "the sunken continent of Zealandia", which is a refresher to see the lost continent bearing recognition for a change. Here, a family of plesiosaurs (Tuarangisaurus keyesi) comes to the coast to gulp themselves on anti-buoyant rocks, while the males ceremoniously poke their long, heavy necks up to the surface, the only good moment in an otherwise generic sequence.
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After a quick focus on coral, we get treated to a Hoffmann's mosasaur (Mosasaurus hoffmanni) relying on fish and shrimp to give him a good, proper scratch, only to be pushed out of turn by a younger male. This sequence sticks out to me because it shows mosasaurs being portrayed as animals, not as monsters to shadow Nigel Marven or kaijuified Blackfish bootlegs.
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The next scene shows a dazzling, mesmerizing mating ceremony of ammonites ("scaphitids", they were called, but that doesn't determine specific species, as it was a very huge family). They glow in the dark and mate very particularly. If the male's flashes don't sync with those of the female, he'd be rejected. Complimenting this alien but still soothing scene is Rozman and Talve's equally alien and soothing score.
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Back in Zealandia, we end with plesiosaur pod mentality, as the whole group defends a pregnant mother from a kaika taniwha (Kaikaifilu hervei). As with the previous plesiosaur scene, it wasn't a scene that I got too crazy about.
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The next episode, "Deserts", isn't really as impactful as the Planet Earth episode of the same name, both in regards to execution and the musical score, and it was riddled with confusing scene decisions. The first scene demonstrates a lek of dreadnoughts (Dreadnoughtus schrani) acting like a combination of elephant seals and frigatebirds, right down to the pops on their necks. The score in that sequence is definitely memorable, as it (literally) highlights the weights that the males take to demonstrate their fitness to attract the gaggle of girls in the audience. Though I'm left wondering--did the upstart beat the veteran because he was stronger, or because he popped one of the veteran's neck balloons, as male frigatebirds would do to ditch the competish?
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Once the sauropod show is over, we now move to what was presumed to be Nemegtia, but it was portrayed to be as dry as Djadochta, which leads to the next problem. While there was evidence of Maastrichtian-age velos in Central Asia, calling them "Velociraptor" is just wrong. I grew up watching Walking with Dinosaurs, which means I watched "Giant of the Skies", which featured Utahraptor in the wrong place at the wrong time. And while the American cut justifies this with a demonstration of a land bridge that connected North America to Europe, I don't know how much water that holds, and that doesn't seem to be relevant anyway, for the damage has already been done. So having in Velociraptor, a genus of velos that went extinct 71 million years ago, in Nemegtia, which was set 66 million years ago, is just a rehash of that previous mistake. In short, Prehistoric Planet has Utahraptor'd the Velociraptor. And besides, hasn't the picture of pack-hunting raptors already been discarded?
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The next scene, the one with the Nemegtian mononych (Mononykus olecranus), is cute but not top-notch memorable, and its color choice is teetering way close to the point of plagiarism.
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Afterwards, the brief but violent rains have created a watering hole in the middle of the desert, luring in dinosaurs and pterosaurs from miles around, including a wandering khan (Tarbosaurus bataar). The reason that scene is so low was that it was just a near-identical rotoscope of the Water Truce sequence from The Jungle Book, right down to the herbivores making a clearing for the khan.
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Then we go high up to see more Barbaridactylus. This scene I wasn't aware was a problem until Unnatural History Channel brought it up in his video, but the females were shown to be oddly consensual towards the similar-looking sneaky males, who use their feminine appearances to sneak past the larger, more impressive males. This is a problem, apparently, because the more extreme the sexual dimorphism, the more likely the sneaky male will be rejected and therefore resort to assaulting the females.
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The last scene is an interesting one, albeit one that suffered an unmemorable score in the soundtrack. Apparently, salty southern duckbills (Secernosaurus koerneri) can thrive on dunes of gypsum, but when rains hit the coast, they rely on both their tenacity and their know-how of the sky to get to more productive grazing. This scene stands out to me because I question why any large animal would choose to thrive on such a taxing environment. It'd make sense for an animal as small as the cryptile, the scrofa and the gryken from The Future is Wild, but not for a duckbill bigger than 16 feet long.
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It is unanimously agreed upon that "Freshwater" is the weakest episode in the first season. Apart from the humpbacked false duckbill (Deinocheirus mirificus) getting a scratch in the swamps of a more accurate Nemegtia and the devil frog (Beelzebufo ampinga) making a snack out of a baby whacktooth (Masiaksaurus knoplferi), the habitat itself has been relegated to the backseat, which is why the mating scene of the t-rex and the laying magnificent simurgh (Quetzalcoatlus northropi) are on the C tier, good scenes that have been damaged by simply being in the wrong episode. Speaking of the latter, memes have popped up in which the faces of dinosaurs have been pasted over two shots of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, with either Masiakasaurus or the Planet Dinosaur model of Majungasaurus being Galahad and the Quetzalcoatlus being the French taunter ("What are you doing in Africa?" "MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!") when, really, that meme is more applicable to Velociraptor being in the Maastrichtian. On that topic, not only is it STILL in the wrong time, there is another problem, one I didn't pay attention to until Unnatural History Channel brought it up on his video. Instead of showing audiences raptor prey restraint (or "RPR"), the storytellers relied instead on mountain cats to show the velos hunting the pterosaurs (species unknown). Like the Deserts episode, Planet Earth has a far stronger "Freshwater" episode.
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"Ice Worlds" didn't excite me as much as "Spirits of the Ice Forest" did, which is a shame, because dinosaurs in the snow is a refresher by default. We start at Prince Creek, which I couldn't ask for a worse place to start because the cast list is very fragmentary. In the opening scene, a pack of raptors (species unknown, though modeled after the pitbull raptor), shadows a herd of ugrunaaluk (Edmontosaurus sp.) for a long-delayed meal. Again, the picture of raptors hunting in packs has been debunked for a very long time now. Why insist on resorting to old cliches?
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The Ornithomimus scene (can't think of a vernacular for them), while the designs look cool and add distinction to overall character, is still just a rotoscope of the Adelie penguin sequence from "Frozen Planet". Next.
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The sequence with the swanneck (Olorotitan arharensis) is even less impressive. Are horsetails really more nutritious than grass? If so, then why have grasslands been the dominant plains since the Miocene?
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The reason the scene with the tro-o is relatively low on the tier list is that it should have been longer, because a dinosaur with the intellect of a fire hawk is a very interesting prospect. But the final scene was just too short and too bland to show off any real gold.
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We have spent so much time in the north that I question the necessity of a quick detour to Antarctica, rendering the scene with the polar macahutiul (Antarctopelta oliveroi) my least favorite of the series.
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The final scene demonstrates the predator-prey dynamic between the northern boss (Pachyrhinosaurus perotorum) and the nanook (Nanuqsaurus hoglundi). The scene is great, the score has some very rhythmic moments, but what puts it low on the B tier are the nanooks themselves. From a distance, they look as good as most of the others. But in closeup, they look kind of fake, especially when they're running. Which brings up to the next problem--the story is based on fossil footprints of different lines pointing in the same direction. But how do we know that those parallel tracks were made at the same time and not separated within hours, days or even weeks of each other? And while it is true that nanooks were smaller than t-rexes, their portrayals in the show were just too small. More recent consensus shows that one nanook could easily match a boss in size, if not overtop it.
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"Forests" is an everywhere kind of episode. The opening scene with the austroposeidon (Austroposeidon magnificus) is not long enough to get me invested.
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Then a herd of trikes (Triceratops, species unknown) visits a cave to visit a clay lick to neutralize the poisons from their plant food. But why clay? Why not salt? Herbivores can clearly deal with poisonous plants without problem, but plants lack sodium, which is why the elephants of Mount Elgon (the inspiration behind that scene) scrape the caves not for clay, but for salt.
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This next scene has gotten everyone talking. A male minotaur (Carnotaurus sastrei) clears the stage to wave his arms around to impress an impossibly stoic female. Everything about that scene--from the choreography to the score--is very goofy, and that is what makes it work so well.
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While it is nice to finally see the Pinocchio-rex (Qianzhousaurus sinensis) in the flesh, its hunt for bright blue corythoraptors (Corythoraptor jacobsi) is not a scene I'd be in a hurry to revisit.
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The fire scene is oddly slow, the only memorable moment in the whole sequence being my first official introduction to Atrociraptor marshalli...literally just one short week before Jurassic World: Dominion predictably ruined it.
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The scene with the baby Therizinosaurus is passable. While it is cute to imagine babies having a taste for honey, it just wasn't executed memorably.
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The final scene, the one set on Hateg Island, slogs on in pace, with the greatest focus being a bunch of odd-looking baby zalmos (Zalmoxes robustus) running and hiding from the real star of the episode, the robust simurgh (Hatzegopteryx thambena), looking more proper than how it looked in Planet Dinosaur. One question, though--weren't pterosaur wings supposed to be rounded at the tip? Sure, they've got the hands pointing backwards, but the pointed wingtips is now believed to be an outdated picture.
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So it goes without saying that years of watching a moderate quantity of Attenborough documentaries has made the watching experience of Prehistoric Planet, at least in comparison to the original Walking with Dinosaurs, a bit numb. The creature designs are good, the CGI has not faltered in its photorealism from The Jungle Book, and even the soundtrack has enough of a score to make it memorable. But it's the stories that amount to the overall numbness of the first season. They hadn't opened my eyes in the way that Walking with Dinosaurs did.
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When season 2 was announced literally one year after season 1, I had my doubts. Planet Earth 2 came out literally a decade after the first Planet Earth, and the differences in filming technology and musical score clearly show that. Same for the 16 years that separate The Blue Planet from Blue Planet 2. Dynasties 2, by contrast, came way too soon after the first Dynasties, and the end result is sloppy, from the stories being set at the tedious start rather than at the steady prime to the score from the first Dynasties being reused so often that the only episode to have any new music was "Meerkat". So to find Prehistoric Planet 2 come out literally one year after Prehistoric Planet, I was concerned that it'd be as shorthanded as Dynasties 2 was. The opening episode, "Islands", kind of suffered that, but it thankfully wasn't as severe a problem.
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The first segment of that episode struck me as odd because the adult zalmo looks weirdly identical to the baby model from last episode.
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While it is cool to see the robust simurgh being expanded upon, I personally wish we'd stayed at Hateg Island, where they'd hunt the Transylvanian dwarf duckbill (Telmatosaurus transylvanicus) and not the funky combbill (Tethyshadros insularis).
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One of season 1's most recurring complaints is "no crocodiles", which is pretty apt when you consider how diverse they were during the Cretaceous period. So to see the Malagasy armadillo (Simosuchus clarki) at all, let alone stand up against a mahjong (Majungasaurus crenatissimus), is one to remember for the ages.
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This next scene is actually pretty interesting, in which we see Adalatherium, which wasn't a true mammal, but rather something hovering closely outside the taxonomic boundaries. It's a long sequence, which is just as well, because this is as new a clade to me now as the cynodont was when Walking with Dinosaurs came out.
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As with in "Ice Worlds", a quick detour to Antarctica doesn't seem necessary to me, as the hunt between the Imperobator and the Morrosaurus feels more like a skim.
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The last scene in the episode is my personal favorite, in which a male robust simugh stands on a sandbar to do whatever it takes to impress a mate.
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"Badlands" stands out in that there are only two settings. The first one is the strongest because of how the Deccan Traps, long reputed to be the co-culprit to the fall of the dinosaur empire, has been repurposed into prime nesting estate for a herd of sauropods (Isisaurus colberti). The journey seems reckless, but volcanic sand is hot and toasty, something that a modern species of dinosaur, the megapode, also exploits as it lays its egg in the hot volcanic sand of the Solomons.
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The next scene hasn't fixed on last year's problems, in which Velociraptor is still there and it still hasn't performed RPR--it just kicks an herbivore off a cliff, and that was that.
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The nesting Corythoraptor scene didn't interest me, but what really bugged me was that the antagonist of that sequence was a kuru (Kuru kulla), a raptor who, like the pterosaurs on the "Coasts" episode, was based on incomplete, fragmentary specimens.
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The sequence with the tarchias (Tarchia, species unknown), is a refreshing detour from the previous sequence because we have a better idea as to what they would have looked like. And to see them slog around for an oasis is a second highlight (next to the Deccan nursery).
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This next scene has nothing new added from either "Time of the Titans" or "Alpha's Egg", in which a herd of baby sauropods gets picked on by larger predators on their way to the safety of the forest.
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The majority of the "Freshwater" sequences I feel fit better in "Swamps". The same unnamed pterosaurs from "Freshwater" have reappeared, this time trying to fly past an approaching population of alligators (Shamosuchus djadochtaensis).
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The next episode features a grizzly bear gathering of austroraptors (Austroraptor cabazai) hunting gar. It stands out as highly as it does because it shows a species of raptor that looks and acts differently from the usual velo or nych. Plus, we know many miles more about austroraptors than we do about Spinosaurus, so that is a relieving plus.
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The devil frog stands out in this episode, and to see a grumpy male try to fight off a herd of goavambe (Rapetosaurus krausei) is humorous. It also deviates from the usual picture of "the frog that eats dinosaurs".
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This next sequence I was very concerned the moment I saw it in the ads. Thanks to Jack Horner, the poorly-known family Pachycephalosauridae has been under very hot fire with the notion of bone sponginess being a taxonomically viable method of identification, which it really isn't because all amniotes have spongy bones in their teens. But very thankfully, this sequence does not resort to Hornerism. It shows that older males do get longer horns on the backs of their heads, not the other way around. Also, new evidence has shown that the domes may have been covered in shiny skin, so this has me asking--is the dome a boys-only trait? Could that dracorex (Pachycephalosaurus hogwartsia) skull that I saw at the Black Hills Museum just be a girl entering her sweet 16 when she died? Could those stygimoloch (Pachycephalosaurus spinifer) skulls just be those of high school footballers?
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"Swamps" ended on a high note with a couple of t-rexes hunting an anatotitan (Edmontosaurus annectens) in the dark. One just walks to the duckbill, and the animal, in its panic, goes right in the direction of the other t-rex in hiding. This perfectly reflects the current understanding that t-rexes exchanged fast running for better walking. Now can we see some duckbills fighting back, please?
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On May 26, The Little Mermaid came out in theaters. A day earlier, "Oceans" came out. If I were to choose, I'd stick to the latter, simply because we're treated to fresh new stories with a wider variety of mosasaurs and ammonites than any of the Walking with programs ever did. The scene with the hesperorns chasing bait fish only to have themselves be chased by bulldog fish (Xiphactinus) is a classic, but a good one. However, "X-fish"? What's wrong with "bulldog fish"? But the highlight, no doubt, is the final sequence, in which a Hoffmann's mosasaur killed a juvenile plesiosaur simply by ramming it great white style.
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"Freshwater" was weak due to being sorely unfocused. "North America", by contrast, is even weaker for being too rushed. Also, the "scars make the man" narrative with the trikes bugs me the most. What justification is there for that?
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This has been a very exhaustive review of Prehistoric Planet, and it's way too early for me to worry about a season 3 coming out, if there is going to be one.

does anyone else have difficulties with spotify's videos? it's almost like they weren't designed for videos and there was an entire platform dedicated to video formats that would've been perfect for this...
I went through a depressive episode for a couple of months and recently came back to learn ALL of the podcasts were gone from YouTube, despite them now doing video in their podcasts. I get why, it's fine. However it's just a huge pain in the ass because I don't use spotify ever. I listen to my music on YouTube music because I'm already paying for YT premium and don't really want to add another bill just for a slightly different music app. But spotify has no idea how videos should work and it's just a mess for me. I'm wondering if anyone else is as salty about it as I am. I still use spotify to hear the podcast, and sometimes watch it if the video works, because I support the boys and I love this podcast.
it's dumb. it means nothing, i'm not going to do anything about it. i'm just bothered.

Had this post on my mind to possibly make for a bit, and then I just recently saw a post; 'is jehovah a fraud' and thought why not.
Here's two tiktok video(ik tiktok😮‍💨 but their simple and straight to the point, especially the second one) that explains Gnosticism:

1. https://www.tiktok.com/@aslanpahari/video/7192421730919435521
   
2. https://www.tiktok.com/@guided2thestars/video/7170189870437076270
   

So, from those; to me in a strange way, it kinda makes sense. For instances the part, if a God so based in genuine pure perfect love, knows when every person dies(that sparrow scripture heh) and is mournful about us dying(that's alot of constant mourning..) is allowing all this violence, pain and carnage to carry Just to prove a POINT to the world and the angels(angels who are 'perfect' beings which I feel they'd deduce from Satan loosing that their isn't a point to question God, and don't need to watch humans 'fail' to get a point) is he really That loving God depicted by Christianity?? I'll even bring up the obvious of example of 2 Kings 2: 23-25; 42 CHILDREN?? killed for making fun of a prophet, I even asked my father a long time ago what good reason for Jehovah to allow there to have children to be "torn to pieces"[I mean just imagining that pain and terror they felt]; and I can't recall his exact answer but it didn't even make sense, like it didn't give that 'ah okay they definitely deserved that.'
And just how the organization functions on catastrophizing everything, and it's all based on "It's so near, very very near now, etc." It's the perfect way to keep someone continuously in a state of fear and constant trepidation. And how many religions tend to overlap in small yet weird ways, similarities.
I mean even just taking the philosophical view of realities origins out from those videos; the point in things not seeming to be how the majority see it to be just scratches a distant itch that I've had for awhile before I even started questioning.
What are yall's thoughts on this?

By Completed I mean a character who is more than an idea, it has backstory, goals and a design already. But also, like many OCs, its still Open for changes.
I wanted something who is mechanically simple, no fancy guimmicks, no multiclassing shenanigans, just baseline class and focus primarely on the Roleplaying side and how that informs the gameplay.
Core Idea: Deathdrinker Fanatic
Here she is:
You may not like it but this is what Peak performance looks like
Full CHaracter Sheet if interested: https://ddb.ac/characters/101702761/4On0Sd
Name: Meronoi (Last name pending)
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Class: Oathbreaker Paladin
Alignment: Lawful Evil
LORE basics

• Born in a family of Paladins, she took the Oaths and teachings but was always more interested In the fighting than anything
• Curious about the undead and the idea of immortality
• One of the few survivors of a Death Drinker attack, amazed at the creature’s display of power she confirmed her goal to one day be strong enough to join this creature in combat.
• Since most of the army died or ran away she took the chance to escape and make a new life.
• Joins the party seeking for more knowledge to further her goals

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Other Character details

• Follows her own twisted Chivalry code (thats why she is Lawful)
• She prefers to fight, not slaughter. Willing to let weakeInnocents go since they usually don't pose a proper challenge. (She doesn't care about collateral though)
• Wants to learn more about the Undead, to find a way to become one while keeping her sentience and free will. So she can bask in the Deathdrinker’s death Aura
• Despite her merciless fighting style she maintains a chivalrous and cheerful demeanor
• While not one to start a fight without good reason she is always open to prove her skills.
• Really likes salty food
• Decent mason, often makes tiny wood carved visages of the Deathdrinker during rests to share with teammates, as a good luck charm

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This is What i got so far
Looking for tips and suggestions on anything about her, her appearance, backstory or even her passion for the Deathdrinker.
One tip i am interrested in is looking through Paladin groups or gods they usually follow, would be cool to write more on her previous Temple so maybe a few of their members may appear down the line, could they recognize her? would she seek them out to silence them or avoid them?
Could open some cool in game story moments.

Before you get back on your social media & start with some bull shit like “these people are obsessed with me; they have no life blah blah blah” check yourself before you wreck yourself dumbass.
Almost every single one of us have full very busy lives. You, shit stick, are simply comedic relief.
Me personally - i work a full 9-5, bowl, golf, am preparing to move cross country, saw friends Friday night, helped my friend & her family recover items from a house fire yesterday, took myself to brunch this morning, then bought a few plants, and then did yard work for my parents today all the while dealing with staying sober, dealing with mental health & grief from numerous deaths in the last 10 years & taking care of myself physically.
You want to play? Let’s play you dumb fuck. You literally sit at home all day long pretending to be sober while you shove copious amounts of kratom, weed, preworkout & “sugar” all the while you’re on live or making tiktoks usually focused around your husband who doesn’t even want you anymore. Who doesn’t have a life? WHOS OBSESSED?
Take your stank pussy & shit breath off the internet & find yourself. You need SERIOUS help. Nothing on social media is going to help you with ANY of your issues.
Thanks for the free entertainment though!
Ps - copious means abundant or excessive, ya know in case you want to have a new “big word” to use incorrectly. 😘

I know this isn’t about Taylor exactly but I wanted to see what you guys thought on this sub! I don’t think I’ve seen lots of discussion here about this yet.
See open letter and more information here: open letter and detailed info and Reddit blackout (this sub doesn’t allow cross-posting)
TLDR; Reddit is gonna kill off 3rd party apps
Not sure how many of you are active on other subreddits or on Reddit overall, but the recent API changes/announcements are a huge deal. For many people, including myself, I use Reddit on 3rd party apps exclusively. I don’t use Reddit on my computer because I usually doom scroll on it and the official app is not functional in comparison.
What does this mean for taylorswift? It means that there may be a significant drop in users. I don’t know the numbers because I am not a mod, but just a regular lurker. However, I do know that I will be quitting Reddit (and this sub) if I can’t use Apollo anymore because I will have no way to use this app.
Anyways I just wanted to see what you all think, since this sub is THE place I go to for Taylor updates and discussions. Twitter is a cesspool and I don’t use tiktok. I really like this sub and I want to keep using it. Please consider joining the blackout and signing the open letter!

Welcome to Camp Redwood! The feel-good camp for ALL AGES.
We toast marshmallows around the fire, tell spooky ghost stories, and hide in random secret military bunkers under the campgrounds! Because SOMETHING IS HERE WITH US.
Camp Redwood is the PERFECT PLACE for a summer getaway where we start EVERY DAY with a CAMP REDWOOD SMILE. Where our counselors disappear every five minutes, and our campers disembowel us for funsies! Did I forget to mention our littles aren’t actually eight years old, but fully grown adults?
We hope you enjoy your fucking stay!
We are also not responsible for any counselors revealing they are not who they said they are—and not who they appear to be.
...
So. There’s a LOT to tell you and not a lot of time to tell it.
Right now, I suppose you could say we are under lockdown—if that is the word. I want to go over the last several days to get you up to date. That’s all I can do right now. I can hope and pray the thing with Teddy’s voice does not get in here, and once again cry out for help—that I know is not coming. Not from the authorities, at least. But hey, if any of you fancy coming to rescue us, we’re in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. The closest rest-stop is maybe three fucking hours away. So have fun. Has it really almost been a week since I posted? Well, we’re still here!
And surprise, surprise, help is not coming. So, please excuse the salt. I am seventeen years old and I have been abandoned by the adults who were supposed to be looking after us.
Who were supposed to act under protocol if something like this happened. I know they were waiting for it—there are specific fucking guidelines on an emergency evacuation for counselors if this ever happened. But then the little shits took over before we could do anything. I guess I’ll start by letting you know that there are two of us left. (three, if we count Rowan, but I’m not). What I thought was going to be a quiet summer getaway with kids my age has turned into a nightmare.
For one, we have been cornered inside the head counselor’s underground secret bunker. If you want to know why she has a secret military bunker, I guess you should keep reading.
Because shit gets weirder than animal crackers having the power to turn adults into kids, and vice versa. When I made my first post, I thought that was it for us. I thought for sure there must have been a self-destruct somewhere—which meant whoever was running this camp was waiting for something like this. I was sure we were going to die, so after making the post, I have to admit with ya’ll—I just slept. I curled up, tried to ignore Harry and Carmel calling our names through childish laugher, and went to sleep with the thought in my head that I was completely at peace with what I had done with my life.
Sure, I was young. Seventeen years old is too young to be ripped apart by littles who are in fact grown adults. But as I was falling into slumber and allowing myself to fall, with my head resting in my lap, my head turned towards a separate pile of files on the other side of the room—I realized I really wanted to know how this was possible. There was so much I needed to know. Why did eight-year-old Eleanor Summers have a file where here birthday dated back to 1979? Why had supposedly innocent sugary snacks turned our adorable littles into mini psychopaths?
These kids were not kids, somehow. But how? How was that even possible? Could it be that the files were wrong?
1979 was definitely 45.
But Eleanor Summers couldn’t be 45 years old. I knew what 45 looked like. I knew that they thought like. They spent half of their time on Facebook laughing at outdated memes, and the other half… I don’t know, working? They have job’s! They’re happily married with kids, maybe soon grandkids! That was not Eleanor Summers. Because Eleanor Summers was most definitely eight years old. I had played several rounds of teddy-bears picnic, and spent hours reassuring her that Harry's ghost stories were in fact not real, enough times for me to know that this little kid was little—and a kid.
But something was bothering me. More than the secret military bunker, and magic age-regressing animal crackers. When I first signed up to Camp Redwood, one of the tag-lines to gain attraction had been, “Solve mysteries in the woods in the dead of night, with nothing but a flashlight and your fellow campers!” I had no idea I would be solving this thing on my own, trapped inside a bunker.
“What are you doing?” Rowan, who was still looking through Allison’s dinosaur laptop, turned to me with half lidded eyes, when I slowly got to my feet, careful not to make too much noise, and crept over to the pile of separate files which seemed to be crumbling apart from age. He kept his voice low, but it sounded almost like a whine. He could have been scared, but from the way he was sitting, cross-legged with a frowny face, I figured something must have been going on with him. The guy looked tired. More tired than normal.
The bags under his eyes were practically shadowing his face, and were an odd contrast to unusually ashy colored cheeks and slightly dilated eyes. Still though, Rowan refused to look vulnerable. I caught glimpse of Harry’s raybans sitting on his head, pinning back thick dark brown curls from falling in front of sleepy eyes. Maybe he was finally losing his cool and breaking out of the well-constructed façade he had been hiding behind since Teddy disappeared.
We had just narrowly escaped a crowd of psycho littles high on age-regressing sugary snacks who were doing who-the-fuck knows to the other counselors who had been captured, so I didn’t blame him looking like that. I guess he couldn’t look me in the eye, because in Rowan’s mind, he was the reason why this happened. He was the leader, and the camp had fallen to psychopathic little eight year olds who had taken half of the counselors hostage, and the other half—most likely taken apart in the physical sense, after what we had witnessed in Cassie’s cabin. Still though, it wasn’t Rowan’s fault. He could sit there and pull a face all he wanted, it’s not like I was going to blow up at him for getting us stuck down here. He actually saved us.
And trapped us, judging from the footsteps upstairs, Carmel and Harry still bouncing around looking for us.
It was a game in their heads. The little’s thought it was cat and mouse. Harry and Carmel were the oblivious cats prowling, while we were the mice, hoping to fucking GOD we weren’t caught and eaten. Ignoring Rowan, I glimpsed what looked like a box full of DVD’S—all of which were labelled with dates and names. I saw familiar ones, my heart racing into my throat. Phoebe. Eli. Cassandra.
Each DVD had one of the kid’s names scribbled on the front, as well as a date.
I found Eleanor’s right at the back of the box.
Eleanor Summers.
08/05/2021. (PM)
Before I could hesitate and think what I was doing, I slid the DVD into the portable player attached to the MacBook. Rowan, to my surprise, didn’t move. But he did make an acknowledging noise when the screen flickered to what looked like video footage. Peering at the screen, I found myself staring at a small white room. There was no door. Only a wooden desk and a chair, and sitting on it was a middle aged woman with dark blonde curls tied into a strict ponytail. She was wearing what looked like a prison jumpsuit.
Her eyes were eerily glued to the camera, unblinking. Her wrists were cuffed in front of her. Though from the look on her face, she saw the restraints as a game. Her eyes lit up with intrigue and I could practically see the cogs in her mind starting to turn as she struggled with them.
As soon as I saw this woman, I felt all of my nerve endings set alight. I wanted to turn the screen off, or look away. But once I was looking at the screen, I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away. “Let’s try this again.” There was a woman offscreen. She sounded young. Too young to be in that kind of authority. I figured there was no way teenagers were being hired as special ops agents, but I guessed I was wrong. She cleared her throat. “It is 4:35 exactly. August 5th 2021. My name is Agent Lemrac,” she stated. “I am asking once again for you to comply with us. As I have said several times, the court are willing to lessen your sentence if you plead guilty with insanity.”
The woman surprised me with a snorting laugh. She seemed to come alive, leaning forward with animated features, her brow reaching her hairline. She was acting like a child, bouncing up and down in the seat, her lips stretching into a wider grin. “What did you just say?”
There was a pause. I could tell the woman was intentionally antagonising the interviewer.
“It means you have been legally declared insane,” the interviewer stumbled over her words slightly. “Mrs Summers, it would be in your best interest to work with us to lessen your current sentence which at the moment is standing at,” the sounds of shuffling paper crackled through the speakers. The interviewer cleared her throat again rustling paper. “Thirty six years. Without parole.”
The woman didn’t speak, only continued to smile—and the interviewer delved further into the sentence. “If you do in fact plead guilty with declared insanity, you will be sentenced to a program which is in the process of supporting and rehabilitating people with your…” she caught herself for a moment. I could tell this interviewer had a biased opinion and it was definitely showing through her interviewing style. I could hear the rapid intakes of her breath as she hurried through what seemed to be a script she was reading from. “Conditions.” She finished. “The Redwood program aims to help people exactly like you.”
Redwood? I thought.
Like… Camp Redwood?
Rowan whistled behind me. I guess I could call that a reaction. The guy was probably still in shock after seeing Café de Teddy splattered all over little Cassie’s cabin floor. I should have known those little bitches weren’t playing Operation for eight hours straight. Turning my attention from Rowan and back to the screen, the woman in the jumpsuit appeared to have changed tactics. Her expression twisted into nonchalance. She leaned back in her chair. “I am not pleading insane because I am not insane.”
“Mrs Summers—”
The woman cut her off. “I am not crazy.” She raised her hands “I am doing what needs to be done.” She leaned forward. “Humanity suffers in the skin. We age and die— and how is that fair? What if we want to see the next millennium? And the next two millennia after that? Why should our bodies dictate our lifespan? Why should we sit here and wait to rot and wither and die when we have the intelligence and mindset to do it? If nobody else is willing to throw ethics aside to take a step forwards in human evolution, I should do it myself.” She folded her arms across her chest, again, like a child. “I did what was to be done.”
“Dr. Summers.” The interviewer’s tone grew stiff. “You and your colleagues conducted illegal and unethical procedures on your family and friends—as well as four other victims.”
The woman inclined her head. “You have a daughter, am I correct? I have a son.”
“A child you killed, Dr Summers.” The interviewer retorted in a hiss which was definitely expressing emotion. She ignored the mention of her daughter, but I could tell it had rattled her to her core. Her voice had cracked. This case was close to her.
That was obvious. Without seeing the interviewer herself, I could sense how uncomfortable she was, shuffling in the chair. Every so often I would hear the sound of her rubbing her hands on her knees and tapping her shoe against the chair leg. She oozed anxiety, not just from her tone of voice, but the way the frame seemed to move with her. “Dr. Summers, you used your son in your research, along with several of his friends. This was not science.” Her voice shook. I heard her sharp inhale. Unprofessional, but very human. Instead of staying stoic and keeping to script, this agent was cracking apart. “It was murder.”
“Agent Lemrac, concentrate on the interview only.” An official voice crackled through what sounded like an intercom on screen.
“Got it.” She spoke through her teeth.
The woman was finding wounds and pressing on them. She was scanning the interviewer for vulnerabilities and preying on every insecurity. She leaned back speaking through a sigh. “Without my son’s sacrifice we wouldn’t have created an answer to death. To growing old and dying, and leaving loved ones behind.” Her voice softened into a murmur, but I didn’t trust it.
After identifying the shattering pieces of this interviewer which were very clear visible in her view, the woman was taking advantage.
“Agent Lemrac, you have a daughter. Am I correct in saying her name is Mari?
“That… that is not relevant.”
“Glioblastoma.” Dr. Summers lips curved into a sickening smile hidden behind mocking sympathy. “A sickness of the brain--which, unfortunately, I cannot fix. If your daughter’s brain was in my hands, I would try. However, not even a brand new body would help her. One which would never age or grow sick. And for that, I am deeply, deeply sorry.” She reached her cuffed hands forwards. “My condolences, Agent Lemrac. Honestly. I have to hand it to you. You are incredibly brave for coming here today and talking to me while abandoning your sick child.” She shook her head.
“Your daughter is dying of an incurable illness, suffering inside fragile skin which will break and fall apart and be unable to keep her standing for much longer. While my son will live on forever. He will see every millennia, a planet which will crumble and build itself back together. And maybe the end of the universe itself.” There was a twitch in her expression and a glitter in her eye I did not recognise. Insanity.
She was fucking insane. I was seeing the pure of it, the depraved and disgusting gleam in eyes empty of remorse and regret. This woman did not care what she had done. I could tell from the look on her face. If she had the chance, she would do this again.
But there was no way they were trying to say her cruelty and complete disregard for her son’s life was due to insanity.
“You are sick, Dr. Summers.” The interviewer said after a moment of gathering herself.
The woman shook her head with a chuckle. “I told you. I am not sick--”
“Sick in the head!” The interviewer’s voice exploded through the speakers in a shriek—a terrified cry she had been trying to hold in. I finally saw her—or at least the back of her. She was a young woman with light blonde hair falling loose on her shoulders. She was trembling. Slamming her hands down on the table, she screamed at the orange jumpsuit woman.
“You are psychologically fucked in the head! You psycho bitch! That is my sister!” She spoke through strangled sobs rattling her whole body. “Mari is my little sister. She is not my child.”
Her breaths were strangled and harboured. I noticed figures looming in the background, but she was continuing. “You killed your own fucking son,” she spat. “You are not legally insane, you are sick!” she shrieked. “You planned and put this together! You sit there and you talk about your son like he’s a… like he’s a tool! You deserve to rot. Do you hear me?” I noticed the orange jumpsuit woman was still smiling, satisfied with the interview’s reaction. Her words were spoken in a vicious poison as she leaned forward and spat directly in orange jumpsuit’s face.
“Agent Lemrac!” Whoever her superiors were—were panicking. “I told you not to turn it off. I knew this was going to happen. Can we stop the demonstration, please? Human emotions present inside an Aceville soldier are too powerful—"
Voices were murmuring in the background, and Agent Lemrac raised her hands. “I want to stop.” She choked out, her hands trembling. She spoke like she still had control over the situation and wasn’t being apprehended. “I want to stop. Do you hear me?” The interviewer was crying, I realized. “Stop the recording! I can’t do this. Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick—”
When the footage ended in a burst of static, I found myself backing away, something slimy creeping its way up my throat.
The woman in the orange jumpsuit who had murdered her son and countless others in what sounded like an attempt at playing god, was Eleanor Summers. I thought back to Teddy’s corpse, and the surgical precision of every organ’s removal. The young interviewer had mentioned colleagues of Eleanor.
Was it possible that Camp Redwood was in fact nothing more than a rehabilitation camp for murderous criminals? There was a loud bang from above, and I was torn from my thoughts.
I turned to Rowan, who had been unusually quiet. And I realized why, when I twisted around to find him three inches from my face, his laboured breath tickling my cheek.
The boy jumped back with a chuckle—like me noticing him was some kind of game, before diving back into the chair. I did notice something odd, as my thoughts spiralled. Rowan couldn’t sit still. Slumped in the leather spinning chair, he fingers tapped a rhythm on the armrests while his feet jumped up and down. In the dim light of the bunker, I glimpsed a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead and the flesh of his neck. He looked to be… feverish—and now that I was looking at him properly, all of my attention on the boy, I noticed small things which seemed… off about him.
For one, he wasn’t coming up with a plan. Rowan always had a plan. Even if he wasn’t completely sure of it, or was completely winging it. This time though, he was strangely quiet. I found my voice when he stuck out his tongue at me. “What are you looking at?”
“Rowan.” I spoke softly, careful not to garner attention from above us where Harry and Carmel were still clamouring around, playing games. “Are you… feeling okay?” I asked, when he turned back to the laptop, manically biting his fingernails.
“I dunnnooooo, Josie! Am I feeeeeeling okaaaaaayyyyy?” He surprised me with an uncharacteristic laugh.
But I did know it.
I knew it from earlier when he reacted to Allison’s bunker and I had been too freaked out to realize that I was dragging along the enemy with me.
Because the fucking idiot had consumed animal crackers. I had seen him for myself earlier, pouring a pack into his mouth for a snack. Which meant either the ‘kids’ had intentionally dosed him with mind altering sugary snacks, or the more likely, he could not resist those preservatives which was the equivalent of caffeine. It’s not like I could blame him when he harboured the weight of an entire camp, but come on, did he really have to sacrifice his own fucking mind to keep himself awake?
Rowan wasn’t just biting. His nails. He was gnawing. Which he previously thought was a filthy habit. He had yelled at a camper for chewing on her nails a few days earlier.
Now that I was noticing it, I couldn’t… stop noticing it. The boy’s whole demeanour had changed; the way he was sinking into the chair, instead of sitting up straight like usual—- I used to call it having a stick up his ass. The boy started typing on the laptop, ignoring me. But when I watched the pattern of his fingers, he was just typing gibberish. Footsteps pounded above us, Harry and Carmel acting as the kid’s’ brainwashed foot-soldiers. Or, more likely somehow, if the animal crackers had caused the littles, or I guess, the fully grown forty year old criminals, to relapse in age-- then maybe it was possible for the same thing to happen to us. To Rowan.
I could feel myself starting to back away, but there was nowhere to run. I just slammed into a cupboard. My gaze flicked to Rowan again, who was tapping a beat on the laptop tracking pad, swaying back and forth, his eyes elsewhere before his gaze found mine. “Marcoooooo!” Harry shouted from above, giggling with Carmel.
I had to guess their mental age had to be at least 8-10 years old. Which meant I wasn’t just dealing with a camp full of forty-year-old psycho’s, I was also dealing with mentally relapsed counselors acting like toddlers.
Rowan seemed to jolt in the chair, twisting his head around, his eyes suddenly incredibly childlike and playful, and very Un-Rowan, were finding the ceiling, his mouth stretching into a smile, like he was seeing butterflies. His eyes flashed to me, and I caught a twitch in his lip. I knew that look. It was the look on my seven year old sister, who knew mom was mad at me, and wanted to make it even worse.
His cheeks were starting to blossom scarlet from what must have been the overwhelming urge to laugh. Rowan pressed his lips together and held in a breath like a hamster, and the asshole was fucking with me. Waiting for me to beat him to it by accident. Kids were fucking ruthless, but there was something terrifying about an 18 year old with a little kid’s mind.
I lifted my index to my lips, miming for him not to even try, but the boy just mimicked me, bugging out his eyes and pressing his finger to his grinning mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare.” I managed to whisper. The boy was definitely playing his own game, moving in twitching movements, baiting me. When he cupped his mouth, I almost let out a cry, but then he dropped his arms with a giggle, as if to say, “I’m just kidding!”
Slowly, I turned around, grabbed the salt I’d found in Allison’s cupboard, and a flat can of soda. Without making too much movement, I poured a handful of salt into the can. But Rowan seemed to know exactly what I was doing. Because in the time it was taking me to advance towards him with the can of salty soda, one arm shakily ready to grab hold of him, and put him into a headlock, he was cupping his mouth, all logic and everything adult, everything he had been as our leader, igniting in playful eyes, leaving me the last one standing.
“Pollloooooo!”
By the time Rowan had managed to reveal our hiding place in a spluttered laugh, I had hold of the squirming boy, one arm wrapped around his neck, my other forcing the can of soda into his mouth. I had definitely miscalculated his strength. During camp Redwood activities, he was always the last one to come back from the trail, holding his knees and panting. I figured he was unfit. However, I was wrong. Underneath his shirt, the guy had some serious muscles.
It was like attacking a brick wall. However, Rowan was mentally a kid. So, I had my intelligence and logic on my side. When it became obvious I wasn’t going to get anywhere with brute strength, I resorted to tickling him, which made him squirm, squeaking out a laugh. When he opened his mouth to yell at me to stop, I took my chance, thrusting the can into his lips and holding his nose so he swallowed it down.
“No!” His laughter turned into muffled yelling, as he batted his fists at my chest. “No, no, no! Get off, get off!”
His body convulsed as the salt did its job, causing the boy to lurch to his knees and choke up forbidden animal crackers in a gooish sludge which turned my stomach. By the time Rowan seemed half himself and half not, still kneeling, his head pressed against the floor, Harry was poking his head through the door with a goonish grin. “Found you!” He giggled, before forcing the door open, allowing Carmel and Callen, freshly caught and mentally turned into littles, to advance down the stairs with equally terrifying grins. There was something wrong with Harry’s face, and I only realized it when the guy himself was hauling me from the bunker, Carmel dragging a barely responsive Rowan. There was nothing in Harry’s expression, only blind childish excitement at winning the game. When he dragged me out of Allison’s cabin and threw me to the ground, I realized he too had insane strength I had not been expecting. But that thought quickly retracted when I was seeing his face in the light of a crescent moon lighting up the sky an eerie glow. Harry’s cheeks were puffy and swollen, his right eye way bigger than it should have been.
When he spoke, his voice was more of a lisp. This was something far more realistic than magical animal crackers fucking with his brain.
“He needs help!” I managed to choke out when Carmel wrapped jump-rope around my wrists. Next to me, Rowan was refusing to get up, still choking up salty soda, groaning into his hands. Every time Callen tried to restrain him, he hissed out like an animal.
“Do you hear me?!” I struggled violently. “Harry needs—”
BANG.
Is what it felt like. The feeling of something—what felt and sounded like a toy car—colliding with my temples, sent me onto the ground, my head spinning itself off of its axis. I remember lying on my back and frowning at the moon which almost looked like it was getting closer to me, blurring into a white ball of light—before reality sunk in, and it was in fact Carmel’s converse coming down to finish me off. I didn’t stay knocked out for long. But I did dream.
I think you can call it a dream? I was lying in bed at home; my room drowned in the dark. I was cosy, curled up in my blankets, when a clammy hand slammed over my mouth, rousing me from slumber. There were two figures in my room. They didn’t have faces. They just existed as shadows, silhouettes. Before one of them raised something above their head, and… impact.
It was the same impact as the toy car hitting me, snapping me back to that night. It wasn’t a dream. Because I remembered his clammy fingers over my mouth, and his hisses for me to shut up as he dragged me from my room.
My parents stood in front of me with expressions of sympathy. Basked in warm light, my mom and dad looked almost otherworldly. “For the best.” Was what they mouthed when my own phantom screams slammed into me. I asked them why, and they didn’t reply, allowing him to pull me further and further from what I knew, from my life as I knew it. But.. that couldn’t be real. I had memories of getting on the bus to camp Redwood. I could recall the whole journey. So, why… why was my tangled mind saying otherwise?
When I gathered myself, the first thing I realized was I was sitting down. I was outside, cool night air grazing my bare arms. There was something attached to me, jerking violently, And it took me several disorienting blinks to understand that I was tied back to back with Rowan. My head pounded, and something wet and warm dripped down my temple. Great. I could add head injury to the long list of things to worry about.
“Let me go you little fucking witch.”
Rowan was back to himself, though from the muffled hissing and the sound of choking—I had to guess he was being force-fed animal crackers.
“Let me—mpphmmm. little…. fucking… mphmmphhmhppmm!”
“Rowan.” I managed to get out in a croak. Through flickering eyes, I caught glimpse of a familiar figure dancing around us. Shivers rocketed down my spine, and I wrenched at the jump-rope restraints, but they did a surprisingly job of restraining my arms behind my back.
Eleanor was with Rowan, while Eli was knelt in front of me. Looking at him, the boy had definitely aged in the face—and I couldn’t help wondering what exactly he had done as a forty something year old to be sent to this place.
“Josie!” Rowan responded in a wail. “Josie. Wake the FUCK up.”
“Stop swearing.”
Eleanor spoke with the cold tone of her actual age.
“Oh, yeah?” Rowan spluttered. “Fuck you.” The boy’s laugh was still rough from almost vomiting his insides out from too much salt intake. “I’m sorry, you were a fucking boomer all along?!” He wriggled in the restraints, lunging forwards, which sent me backwards.
“Stop swearing, Rowan.” Was all the girl responded with calmly.
“Like I’m going to listen to you!” He sneered. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fucking fuck!” What are you going to do, huh? Bite me with your false teeth?” The sound of saliva hitting skin made me wince. He was pissed. I had no doubt his completely rational anger was going to get us killed. Rowan was also somehow getting mixed up between forty and eighty. Though he was unwillingly snacking on mind bending sugary goodness.
“Fudge, Rowan.” Eleanor spoke in a giggle.
“What?!”
“Say fudge. Not fuck.”
“No.”
His hiss of pain caught me off guard. I don’t know what she was doing to him, but it was hurting him.
“You fudging fudge! I’m going to fudging kill you when I get out of these fudging ropes—“ his manic cursing became a muffled yell.
“Say fudge,” Eleanor hummed, followed by his hiss when the palm of her hand skinned his cheek. “Fuck is a bad word. You even said so yourself and you’re my favourite counselor.”
He heaved out a breath.
“You fudge,” Rowan spat. “When I get out of this, I am going to fudging kill you, you fudging—” His manic ranting morphed, once again, into muffled yelling, after another fistful of animal crackers were forced into his mouth. When I risked twisting around, I could see his rebellion slowly starting to simmer out as he relaxed slightly. I wanted to yell at him to keep a clear head before cold fingers were dipping under my chin and forcing my head around where I found myself face to face with Eli.
“I like you, Josie,” he said, before untying me and pulling me to my feet. Now at the age of nine or ten, he was a lot stronger. When I tried to pull away, the cruel blade of a knife grazed my gut. I caught his grin. “But we don’t need you.” Eli pointed to Rowan.
“We just want them.”
I followed his pointer finger which went from Rowan to Harry and Carmel, who were just standing there like fucking idiots, probably awaiting the next game. Harry’s face was getting redder. It looked like he was suffocating, and yet his grin was growing wider and wider, splitting his lips apart. “Rowan Atlas.” Eleanor said, dragging him to his feet. Something was stapled to his forehead head, which caused him to howl in pain, hissing another strangled line of “Fudge”. but I couldn’t read what it was.
“Camp leader. Intelligent, and problem solving skills.”
“Harry Carlisle.” Eli nodded his head with a smile. “Quick thinker. Strong minded.”
“Carmel Locke.” Cassie spoke behind me. She had her arms folded, a wry smile on her lips. “Smarter than she makes out—- an independent learner, and can work well under pressure.”
Looking at these kids, I felt sick to my stomach. They were planning something—and had the intelligence of renowned scientists, which was what I gathered from the footage on the MacBook. “What?” was all I could hiss out, as Eli prodded the blade of the knife into my back, ushering me to walk. “What are you talking about?”
“Duh.” He spoke in a more tweeny giggle. “Like I said, Miss Josie. You’re my favorite counselor but we don’t need you, so I’m going to use you for parts.” He laughed when a shiver spiderwebbed down my spine. “See! I told you I was going to show you my collection!”
“But… what do you need them for?”
Eli pressed his index finger to his lips with a laugh before forcing me to face forwards. “That’s a secret!”
When I didn’t, or couldn’t move, he shoved me into a stumbling power-walk, and I managed to turn my head quickly, making feverish eye contact with Rowan.
“Rowan.” I said calmly through the gutter in my throat. “Get…. Get help.”
If I was going to die, I needed him to get a hold of himself and somehow alert the outside world what was going on.
“From whom, Josie?!” He wailed back—and as I was dragged away, I could once again sense the childish undertones in his voice.
I had no choice but to obey Eli’s orders. If I didn’t want a knife in my back. He took me to the main lunch cabin, which, when I set foot inside, almost sent me to my knees.
Something lurched inside me, and I was screaming with no voice, staggering backwards, only to be shoved onto my face. In front of me was what had been the lunch hall, fully converted into the beginning of a laboratory.
What had been cafeteria tables were fashioned into makeshift gurney’s and beds, and I was looking at all of the missing counselors. Yuri and Noah had been skinned completely, their faces laid out on a makeshift surgical table. Joey had been ripped open, his heart and brain removed, a glittering metallic substance creeping its way across his forehead. It was then when I remembered Eleanor Summers words.
She wanted to prevent death and preserve the human mind. Looking at what was in front of me, this was the start of it. There was equipment I had never seen before. Lily’s body was empty, carved out completely, tubes forced inside her. When I glimpsed her fingers move and begin to ball into a fist, I saw red. I saw fucking red. The exit was so close and yet Eli, fucking Eli, wielded his knife. I think that is when part of me gave up. My brain just stopped. It short circuited. Seeing my friends murdered and yet somehow being kept alive through playing god, my body slumped to the ground. I was numb. Completely numb.
I’m not sure what would have happened if those bloody saws and instruments which had been used on my friends were used on me too.
Luckily, that did not happen. Before Eli could get his slimy hands on me, he crumpled to the ground in an almost cartoon-like fashion, and standing over me was Harry. Who was looking better. When he grasped hold of me and helped me up, I only had one word. “Out.” And he was nodding, his eyes glistening as he drunk in our friends’ fate.
“How?” I managed to sputter out, when we made it out of the cabin, ducking behind a tree. Harry turned to me, motioning for me to shut up. There was a group of now ten to eleven year olds already running around, searching for what I guessed was him.
“I’m allergic to peanut butter,” Harry murmured, his grasp tightening on my wrist as he led me across the camp, the two of us stumbling.
“What, and you just magically healed?”
He didn’t respond to that, which bothered me.
“The bunker is our best shot,” I hissed out. “I think we can get in contact with someone down there.” I paused, unable to stop myself. “What makes you so important?”
“Dunno. Maybe I’m their favorite.”
When we found Allison’s cabin, which was more of a safehouse (an exposed safehouse) I found Rowan sitting on the wooden porch with his legs swinging over the side. “Rowan!” Harry groaned. I found it hard to believe their roles had been switched. Now he was the one yelling at the camp-leader. “I told you to stay inside!”
He ushered the boy inside, before barricading the door with some hefty looking equipment. I could tell from the grin on his face that our so-called leader was once again no longer himself.
I had to bite back a groan. “You’re kidding.” I said, pointing to Rowan, who buried his head in his knees and blew a raspberry. “Does he look and act like our leader right now?!”
“It’s Rowan, Josie.”
“He’s a liability.”
“He’s our friend! Wouldn’t Rowan do the same?”
Yes, he would. But. He would also realize we’re lost causes.
“Gag him with something.” I said. “If he makes any more noise, we’re dumping him.”
“He’s a kid!”
“Just the mind of one.”
I don’t know how animal crackers worked, but his age seemed to be progressively younger. This time he just sat with wide eyes watching us.
Harry almost tore apart the place looking for means of communication, before an old fashioned ringing sound made me jump.
“What was that?” Harry turned to me with his lip curled.
“How am I supposed to know?!” I hissed. “Keep looking!” But when I ducked under the table, my hands crawled under the desk, finding a wire—and attached to that, an ancient looking phone which looked straight out of a 1940’s movie, a bright green rotary phone.
Hesitantly, I answered it, lifting the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Did you awaken the subjects, Agent Salta?"
The voice on the other end was a woman, an oldish sounding woman with the tinge of a British accent.
“What?” I shot a look at Harry before shaking my head. “No. My name is Josie Greenfield. We’re at Camp Redwood, and we need help.”
The woman paused.
“Where is Agent Salta?” She cleared her throat. “This line is reserved for communication with agents only.”
“I don’t know who the fuck you’re talking about!" I squeaked out. “My name is Josie, and whatever is happening here, we need help!”
“Josie. Did you awaken the subjects?”
I paused after a moment, shooting Harry a look when he tried to take the phone off of me. “Yes.”
“And… are our agents unavailable?”
“I don’t understand.”
“When a health and safety breach is activated, our agents are awakened to deal with the Project Spearhead subjects if they were to ever go rogue, or become conscious enough to think. Josie, can you tell me what is in front of you? Describe it to me.”
I held my breath. Next to the hidden phone under the desk was what looked like mismatched wires, all of which had been severed. I lowered myself slowly, poking at mess. “Wires. I see… cut up wires.” I whispered. “Does this mean they know about you?”
She hummed. “Ah…That makes sense. The only way to activate our sleeper handlers would be to send out the signal. You appear to have been sabotaged. Unless activated manually, our agents cannot help you. I am sorry. They are your problem now.” The woman paused.
“If I were you, I would hope and pray they have not sabotaged the self-destruct. If you find that, then you may be able to save yourselves and find peace.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you for your service, Josie Greenfield.”
“Wait.” I managed to get out. “Wait, no! You can’t just… you can’t leave us! We need help!”
I found myself yelling at nothing when the phone went dead. The dull tone of the dead ringtone was clanging in my ears before footsteps from up above. “Fuck this.” Harry picked up a lead pipe. “They’re still little kids, right? I mean, their head must still be partly kids—- so let’s fucking beat their heads in.”
He noticed something, then, starting forwards towards the mess of files I had left earlier. Harry knelt on the ground and picked up Eli’s file, his eyes wide. But he wasn’t staring at the dates confirming the little boy’s age.
Instead, Harry pointed at the bottom of the file. “I don’t want to freak you out, Josie,” he whispered. Initially, I didn’t know what he was trying to show before I glimpsed notes scrawled at the bottom of the file, followed by a signature. “But I’m pretty sure that is my fucking writing.”
Harry was right.
I pulled the paperwork off of him, flicking through each file before turning my eyes to him. “Who the fuck are you?”
A clanging sound from above broke the tension, and whatever Harry was about to reply with was strangled in his throat. He slammed a hand over his mouth.
“Guys?”
The voice twisted me up inside, threatening to release a shriek from my mouth I had managed to clamp shut.
Teddy.
“Are you down here?” His voice was strained, and had an odd tone to it. “I can’t… I can’t see you.”
…
Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?! It’s been a blur of a week. We’ve managed to stay down here, surviving off of Allison’s rations. Rowan isn’t getting any better. He seems to have stopped mentally de-ageing at the age of maybe six. Harry has spent the last few days trying to get in contact with anyone, but it’s like they are IGNORING US.
I’ve been looking through everything I can find on Project Spearhead, but nothing points to Harry being involved. So. How is his signature all over the files? How is it possible that two friends I thought I knew several days ago, are now complete strangers?
Teddy keeps coming back.
He’s crying out to us.
I think he’s… in pain.
My god, I can’t stand this anymore. Please. CAMP REDWOOD NEEDS HELP.

This is all painfully obvious.
I'm actually starting to feel sorry for her. (NOT in offering her shit, either. That's never going to happen). She needs to stay off social media, period. Not just a break. She is unbalanced. She has a deep-rooted welfare mentality. (Hey, I grew up poor, no child support from deadbeat dad and on food stamps, too) and she has to step up into her life and accept responsibility. That means, you don't collect friends you meet on social media for how they can financially help you. You can't afford to live here? Then you shouldn't. You're not entitled to your own spot here unless you can pay for it yourself -- or let's be real, you have wealthy parents. Hey, I would love to move to Hawaii, Scotland, Australia or New Zealand or some beautiful, private island, but I'm not going without a shit ton of money and a plan to live on!! She purposefully came here however many years ago without any resources, and let's be real, she's gotten a ton of assistance. That assistance is not going to subsidize her until she become a break-out media star. PERIODT. The delusions of it all.
She needs to accept that she's not going to "make it here in California," stop thinking the government owes her a way in life, stop dry begging her "audience" for frivolous or other needs. Don't have the $ to bedazzle "So Boom" on the top of your graduation cap? Don't have $ for FENTY SKIN or FENTY X SAVAGE? That's the way the cookie crumbles. Get these things YOURSELF or not at all. The bottom line is her; the buck stops with HER.
Until she faces the facts that she can't hold a job or rent a room due to her inappropriateness, she needs to accept that she is going to get SKEWERED on social media. She is the head conductor on the train wreck that is her life and she should do this in private. Tiktok *IS* so toxic, and she's clearly feeling the wave of this shit headed her way.
Have you EVER heard a podcast about someone's life before? Unless it's someone else narrating about old Hollywood legends, or serial killers, or heroes, etc. podcasts are not to showcase your own pitiful existence in the present. The f?

I feel like Alisha is super salty she is losing relevancy and that her Tiktoks are not doing so well figuring how much she and Remi have been talking about doing Tiktoks everyday. It’s actually so cringe. So Alisha figured that the only way to sustain some kind of relevancy and attract views on youtube is by posting the “tea videos” about life as an influencer behind the scenes (without actually telling something that isn’t common knowledge) because everybody in the room needs to know she is an OG youtuber. I think it’s pretty logical that an influencer would hire a lawyer to go over a contract for a brand trip lmao. Like cmon just accept that people moved on and your “wisdom” about youtube is just generic knowledge. UGH

Salamoona,
We started this sub six years ago because we got tired of seeing Pashtuns/Afghans scattered in spaces racked by infighting and toxicity. Our goal was to create a small forum for our people to get together in a fun environment away from all that. I'd like to think we've achieved that for the most part, thanks to the 99% of users who are perfectly normal individuals.
Sometimes however we get users who come in to stir the pot. Usually these are newer accounts that will attack all Pashtuns on one side of the Durand Line, claiming to speak on behalf of Pashtuns on the other side. While it's clear these are trolls (often outsiders), more and more we're seeing established, well-meaning users take the bait only to make the situation worse.
That is unacceptable and will result in a ban if it becomes a persisting issue. This isn't TikTok where diasporic kids tear each other apart based on British lines on a map. Generalizing and attacking Pashtuns is never allowed here. If you see that here, just report instead of engaging.
Now we're not so naive as to believe in Pashtun unity above all else. Of course we want nothing to do with the many Pashtuns out there who actively harm our interests. Therefore this sub supports unity around a basic pro-Pashtun position: promoting our language, preserving our traditions, and opposing anti-Pashtun state violence. If you are a Pashtun/Afghan (lar or bar, in the watan or diaspora, religious or secular, regardless of tribe) you are always welcome as long as you have no problem with these basic pro-Pashtun positions.
Manana 🙏

After all this about Reddit and the APIs I downloaded the official app just to see if I could give it a shot. It’s just a hot mess. With the ads with blaring audio, ads in the comment threads, the fact that it’s so trying to look like a bad TikTok clone, or worse Facebook, it just sucks so hard. I mean I’d pay a few bucks a month to surf Reddit with Apollo, that would be really worth it. But if Reddit doesn’t cave, it’s going to be like losing a good friend. And that makes me sad.

Hey y'all,
I am a small creator on TikTok who has used my platform to actively push against the "High Value woman in pursuit of a High Value man, 0/100" narrative that Michelle has popularized. I am vehemently against her ideals for a multitude of reasons, as I assume a lot of you are. Since making videos that are critical of Michelle and this lifestyle I have received an influx of hateful comments from MOSTLY WOMEN tearing apart my personal relationship, my looks, my body, and my age. It got so bad that I was on live a few days ago and my boyfriend came home to give me food and gifts and HUNDREDS of women were mocking us and saying comments like "is he going to venmo request you", "here comes her dusty", "thank you for being a low value woman to take up a dusty like that"- which was outright insane and RUDE. One of my main arguing points is that in this current world, inflation and the recession without wages going up to match has made it IMPOSSIBLE for people to live off of a single income and this lifestyle simply is NOT attainable for working class and poverty level people. The usual response? "If he wanted to he would sis- my man works 3 jobs so i can be a princess at home" which feels entitled, scary, and downright delusional.
On the video where I stitched Michelle, I had a man comment over 250 times encouraging me to reach the brink of a mental breakdown asserting how "ugly" I am compared to Michelle. Every time I post against hypergamy and the sugar baby/ only accepting a provider lifestyle my comments are flooded with women insulting my looks and making sure I know that the reason I have this stance is because I am bitter, jealous, and wish I could attract a man like this. Anyone have a reason why this woman and her followers are the most intensely misogynistic, mean, and terroristic people I have ever come across online? The hate has gotten so bad her followers have stalked, harassed, and gone so far as to post photos of myself on their personal instagram accounts calling me ugly and encouraging people to harass me. I have never experience this level of hatred, abuse, and insanity from any other group of people.
I do not understand why this woman has set an entirely new wave of existence for women that CENTERS men, abandons autonomy, and has these women happily confirming to traditionalist mentalities and commodifying themselves on the way. I feel that it is extremely reductive and unrealistic! I had no idea about Michelle being an escort, but this lifestyle is the closest anyone can get to sex work without overtly defining it as such. This lifestyle is not attainable to women of certain socioeconomic classes and she has the most mean-spirited, uneducated, lackluster women with absolutely nothing going on under the delusion that they are deserving of a privileged lifestyle and endless generous man off of the basis that they are a woman and that alone.
Any thoughts on this? My mental health has declined since speaking about this, and I can't help but wonder why these women have acted so NASTY towards me.
​
Edit- the link to the video is here
https://www.tiktok.com/@baby_misery/video/7205718518791228714?lang=en

Hey,
I wanted to promote a great friend of mine who is creating some amazing 3D art with Blender with a Ghibli chill vibe. He recently started all over again because he was discouraged by the lack of views, likes, and comments on his videos.
Even if I think he should not focused so much on stats he feels like he's working for nothing and that nobody cares about what he's doing and this made him really unmotivated.
So, if you have juste 10 seconds , could you please check out his videos on Twitter, TikTok, or even Instagram and maybe leave a comment or like?
It would mean a lot to him.
Here's the links:
tiktok : https://www.tiktok.com/@trixma_01
Twitter : https://twitter.com/Trixma0
Insta : https://www.instagram.com/trixma01/

uj/ based off a real conversation I’ve had with a terf on tiktok
rj/ As we all know, gender is determined by what’s in your pants.
Womanhood in particular is determined by making a yearly trip to the gynecologist. This of course means that adequate health insurance is required for womanhood.
No, trans person who is arguing with me, it is a very valid point to say that womanhood requires doctors visits. For example, trans “men” who are too dysphoric to go to the gynecologist are not women. Wait… no!
Womanhood actually means having reproductive organs. Ignore my pivot from my stupid take to this absolute genius take.
Oh my goodness, you are not actually serious right now! You think “cis” aka normal men have reproductive organs?!? Stupid fucking tranny. You are delusional. Stop ignoring science! Honestly, I bet you think trans “women” can give birth.
What’s that? A link to an article about the “male reproductive system”! Stupid liberal bullshit. I bet it says men can have vaginas. Let’s see… oh… umm… no that can’t be right… a penis and testicals aren’t reproductive… oh…
You think men can be women. Idiot. I won.