I’ll try and make this as simple as possible.
My gf comes from a toxic household, her father head of the house passed away a few months back so things been difficult. Her mother now leader of house isn’t the best mother let’s say that. She had a gambling problem before but it got much worse, also her drinking increased. Her mother is planning on selling the house so my gf has to find somewhere to live. I got over there sometimes and see how it is and honestly it’s sick how her family is. My gf is the only clean one let’s just leave that their.
My gf been through a shit ton in her life and I just want to help! I told her I would move with her but then I sat myself down and ask do I need to? I still live at home with my dad rent free. Save a shit ton of money but so far I saved over 10k for my future business. So I’m proud of myself. I wanted to save over 10k so I reached my goal.
My gf don’t really have any proper guidance or men in her life besides me. Who do she call when she have car trouble ? Me. Who does she call when she need help? Me. Who does she call for advice proper guidance? Me. Who will protect her from anything and has? Me.
I just want to make it easier for her since her father isn’t here anymore especially while she’s in nursing school. I want to stay home to save more rent free but I also want to help her and keep experiencing life together. We been on over 6 vacations two being counties and 4 being cities. Helped her buy first car. Helped her with credit. We been doing everything together. I just don’t want her out on her own and not have no help/ proper guidance.
Please help me out !

I’ll try and make this as simple as possible.
My gf comes from a toxic household, her father head of the house passed away a few months back so things been difficult. Her mother now leader of house isn’t the best mother let’s say that. She had a gambling problem before but it got much worse, also her drinking increased. Her mother is planning on selling the house so my gf has to find somewhere to live. I got over there sometimes and see how it is and honestly it’s sick how her family is. My gf is the only clean one let’s just leave that their.
My gf been through a shit ton in her life and I just want to help! I told her I would move with her but then I sat myself down and ask do I need to? I still live at home with my dad rent free. Save a shit ton of money but so far I saved over 10k for my future business. So I’m proud of myself. I wanted to save over 10k so I reached my goal.
My gf don’t really have any proper guidance or men in her life besides me. Who do she call when she have car trouble ? Me. Who does she call when she need help? Me. Who does she call for advice proper guidance? Me. Who will protect her from anything and has? Me.
I just want to make it easier for her since her father isn’t here anymore especially while she’s in nursing school. I want to stay home to save more rent free but I also want to help her and keep experiencing life together. We been on over 6 vacations two being counties and 4 being cities. Helped her buy first car. Helped her with credit. We been doing everything together. I just don’t want her out on her own and not have no help/ proper guidance.
Please help me out !

Opinions on what I should do. So a little background I’m a USMC veteran got out in 2020, I have a 3 yr old child that I just spent almost a year and a half fighting for custody. The custody is, I have month on month off bc mom moved to a different state to be with family. But once my daughter starts pre-k next fall I will have school year and mom gets summers and major holidays.
My dilemma: i accrued 20k in debt fighting for 50/50 custody (which I did get and would do over again). But to my parents not a bank…credit cards. So my goal is to pay them back as soon as possible. I feel my ex will fight to get custody again and school year. This wouldn’t be so bad if she was stable and ik my daughter wouldn’t move a bunch like my ex had to growing up. If my ex would move back it’s week on week of which I think would be more beneficial for my daughter. I applied last year for a university police department and failed on a psych eval, it sounds bad but this was during my ongoing divorce and custody battle and the reason for the failure was the medicine I was placed on. Since I have gotten off the medication and switched to a medication that works for me and would allow me to work for the police department. Meanwhile while waiting on the police job I applied and accepted a job working for the electric union closest to me since working for them I have a great opportunity to be accepted into their Apprenticeship (applied before the police job and didn’t get in for lack of experience, which I have since working for them and becoming a union member) I applied again this year on the last day. The apprenticeships is a five year commitment where I get raises every year and after I’ll be making 34$ (take home) plus benefits which include 7.50 an hour for my retirement for every hour worked, a vacation check I pay into while I work for every 6 full months of 40 hours weeks I will receive 7500$. The issue I worry about is the work is over 13 counties and if I am sending my daughter to school I could see issues with getting her in the bud and such depending on when I worked and where it work. There is also a layoff after each job currently (could change) it can be anywhere from a month to 8 months. But during the apprenticeship I get to use my va benefits which gives me roughly an extra 1000 a month for housing year round if I spread it out or 1200 for 9 months a year.
The cop job should I apply again and get through it and hired would be 23 an hour with somewhat regular raises I don’t know where it caps out but after 5 years my daughter cna go to colleges there for free not to mention they have the best health Care probably in the state. They said all the overtime I could want as well and they are 12 hour shifts.
The big dilemma is the cop job would give me of a steady schedule and dependable income and make it harder if my ex wanted to try and fight me for custody in the future but I feel the union job would better set my daughter and myself up. With me my daughter always comes first and I’m struggling with this. But if I accept the apprenticeship I’m locked in or I burn the bridge forever. And I don’t feel I can’t down union job if I haven’t got confirmation of the cop job but it can take up to a year to find out and I would have to go for three months of training. Any advise will be greatly appreciated!

I'll be honest, being a leftist here in Indiana is rough (unless I'm arguing with randos on reddit). In my neck of the woods, Boone County, it's a ton of Blue Lives Matter or Blacked Out flags and a TON of mistrusting people.
So I've taken it upon myself to try and start something that will hopefully turn heads and start conversations. I am looking to launch a gym-wear clothing line with a leftist twist to it. Classic things like "Eat Protein, and the rich" and some other original designs made by yours truly.
However, this isn't just about selling clothes. What I really want to accomplish is take a portion of the sales to really lift up communities, non-profits, and struggling families. Much like other companies like COVE USA, Canned Goods, or East Coast Tags. I want to spread a message through the clothes and through our values. At this time, our initial project is that 10% of all money made from sales will go to funding a free open public gym for people to use at their leisure. Once we complete that and measure the success, I would love to expand our operations to helping more people and also nudge people to become more activated in their own communities and even in their governments.
I'm hoping to launch in the few coming weeks, I am waiting for my final design to get across the finish line. If you're interested in supporting a movement, or just finding another comrade. I would love for your support on twitter. It can be found here: https://twitter.com/_BasedFitness_

AITA for pressing charges on an old “friend”?
A few years ago, I (30,f) befriended someone who was having a rough time and staying at their Moms place. I agreed to let them stay with me a little while until they got back on their feet, (I know, should’ve signed a contract, move out date, etc). We’d slept together twice, wasn’t good and I verbalized multiple times that I wasn’t interested in pursuing anything and we could still be friends. She quickly became obsessive, controlling, manipulative and I had to have my landlord change the passcode to the house in order to get her to leave. She said I’d “betrayed” and “used” her even though she was taking advantage of my cahome/finances. Harassing me with 70+ calls a day demanding to know why I “cheated” and wouldn’t just be with her. A hot mess.
She stated multiple times that she’d leave me worse than when she “found” me. I found out later that she filed false DV charges on me to try and mess up my military career. I provided all of the evidence to my lawyer to show that she was indeed, the toxic abusive person and it was a case of spite and revenge. She didn’t even show up to court and the case was dismissed. I’d still have to pay to get it removed from my background. The day after she left, I noticed $340 missing from my bank account. I’d used her Amazon prime months before to order furniture, and didn’t realize my card was still connected to her acct. She denied it, saying it was her nephews. The stress and trauma this woman put me through was definitely traumatizing, and I don’t think it’s fair I should have to pay this charge AND she gets away scotch free to take advantage of someone else. WIBTA for filing a police report? I feel like it would help me move on mentally/emotionally and people should be warned of her behavior. Yes, she tried to ruin me for rejecting her, but she could possibly lose custody of her kid/lose her job because of the theft charges. I have proof from my bank that it was her Amazon account that took the money.
AITA for pressing charges on a single Mom and possibly having her child stay with family?

Protecting your brand from negative content can be a daunting task, but it is essential to maintain the positive image you have built. Reputation Guards provides to help you monitor what people are saying about your company or brand online and safeguard against potential threats. We offer two options for the complete and permanent removal of any unwanted content: de-indexing from Google or removing the content itself. Our team will assess the situation and advise on the best strategy for full protection against future attacks so that your reputation remains intact.

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Negative content can come from a variety of sources, such as disgruntled customers, rivals and competitors, or even malicious actors. It is important to understand the source of the negative content to better address it.
Customers may leave negative reviews due to a bad experience with your product or service, or because they’re disappointed with how you handled their complaint. Competitors may attempt to harm your reputation by spreading false information about your company or sabotaging your efforts. And malicious actors could be attempting to defame your business with damaging posts and slanderous remarks.
Identifying the source of the negative content can be challenging, especially if the content has been posted anonymously. However, with the help of an experienced reputation guard team like Reputation Guards, it is possible to track down the originator of unwanted content and take appropriate measures for damage control. Our team utilizes advanced online tools and resources to uncover the identity behind negative posts and assess any associated risks. We also specialize in finding ways to mitigate any potential damage caused by the negativity on a brand's overall reputation.

Monitor your online presence regularly

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Develop a strategy to respond quickly and effectively to negative content

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Counteract the negativity associated with your brand name

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Considering an online reputation management company

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Hi
I’ve had more bad ideas than good. Well probably the idea is good but the execution is half hearts. I get an idea, usually buy the tech/equipment etc and then get bored pretty quick. Half baked things I’m running
Got 75 btc miners running in a factory, with another 20 needing new control boards, need to get the figure out on that.
Bought SMS gateway hardware to run a proxy server business and bulk sms sending service, man, the tech support and free trials kills me. 3 sales this month, subscription
Got a A3 digital printing press left over over from a bad joint venture, 3 years left on the lease, it’s doing nothing. 2 sales this month
I bought 1000 mini mixtiles style photo frames to start a mixtiles clone. Think I bought the domains as well. 0 Sales this month
Bought wireless phone chargers to make personal/branded charges, photochargers.com was setup. 0 sales ever lol
My latest thing is https://app.trust-signals.com as SEO tool that analyses a website to check from trust elements, currently 180 free users, 0 paid
But I’m enjoying doing it and I’d do them all again.
During Covid I setup clubsnoods.com and turned over £500k in 8 months, all these failed ideas will eventually lead to something new
Todays idea, an automatic knowledge base using chat gpt, already sort of tested it. Say your an Audi garage and want Audi content, this knowledge base will generate an article every 10 minutes about Audi, will work great for SEO

Hello all. Just wanted to share an experience trying to reach emergency services yesterday evening. Around 7 pm last night, there was an emergency in my home (not going to get into specifics) and I needed to call 911. When I called, it kept ringing for a good 20 seconds so I decided to hang up and call again - I let it ring for even longer the second time around. After it rang for so long I decided to hang up and call a third time but as I was doing that I received a call from what showed up as “Arlington County” on my caller ID and it was none other than a robo call that asked if I was experiencing an emergency to press 1 or press 2 for non emergency. Luckily, the emergency that was happening quickly resolved itself by some grace of god but it could have easily gotten much worse. Anyways, just sharing the experience and after that happening, I wonder what other options there are besides 911. I can’t help but think that if it was a home intruder type emergency or something similar, I I’m not I would have had the opportunity to try calling 911 three times. Thanks for coming to my early afternoon Ted Talk. Enjoy the day!

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I spend A LOT of time customizing my controls in any game (whoever said "E" should be the default for "Use"? It should always be the big space bar!). There is a lot of playing for a few minutes, saying "Ah, it would feel natural to have a button for this over here," play for a little longer, repeat.
A friend gave me a cheap thrustmaster hotas. Can't argue with free. So I spent hours last night customizing the setup. But decided that I would rather not use it for exploration, so today I went to launch, and unplugged the hotas. Suddenly, I'm not able to get out of my system map by pressing escape anymore....
It reset ALL my controls to the default keyboard and mouse just because I guess it couldn't find the bindings to the joystick! NO! No! Bad ED!
Now, I do have a partial workaround -- I use Razer Synapse to do some rebindings that the game doesn't support. But Synapse doesn't support my cheap hotas that I may or may not play with at a given time, and the UI can be a little cumbersome for what I normally do.
So if I go through all this—again—and rebuild my bindings, is there a way to save my stuff? It's scary to think that it could erase a lot of work because I may not have noticed that the cat unplugged something before I launched.

When you're rich enough, you get perks you can only dream of. Literally. But somehow, my paradise turned into hell.
Have you ever had a dream so amazing, you wished you could relive it? Explore it? Relish it? Well, when you're rich enough, you don't have to wish. It's a reality thanks to dream banks. You may have heard of them and their pricy services, which include recording, saving, and projecting dreams.
For example, if you'd like a dream recorded, you can book one of their luxurious suites for the night, where the dream techs will fit you with a special helmet and leave you to rest. The next morning, they'll replay the recorded dream for you via the helmet and ask if you want to shell out the extra bucks to save it. If you don't, they'll delete it and you can pay to book for another time to try again.
If you do decide to save it, you must select an item within the dream that will act as the exit key. (This will come in handy during projections.) While still wearing the helmet, you must touch the item, and the dream techs will label those electric signals as the key.
Afterwards, everything is saved under your name, and you can now relive your dream at any time by booking a suite for three, five, or eight hours. Unlike recordings, during projections, you don't have to wait for sleep to come. After you enjoy a snack of your choice, the helmet is fitted and you're immediately transported to your dream, where you have free will and can enjoy it at your leisure. And if you ever need to leave early, this is when you touch the key, which will shut down the helmet right away.
In my case, the key is the stegosaurus leather rug I have hanging on the wall of my throne room. I never have a reason to touch it otherwise, making it a perfect key. I've also never had to touch it. Experiencing life as an all-powerful, worshipped being who lives on my own planet and hunts dinosaurs in my spare time, I relished my dream to the last second.
Yes, the fees are exorbitant, but at the time, I felt it was worth it. The techs were skilled, the system was sleek, and the dreams were private. Each could only be unlocked by the unique brainwaves of the dreamer.
Or so I thought.
My literal nightmare began when I booked a five-hour projection on a rainy Friday afternoon. After taking a sip of champagne to wash down the cranberry brie bites, I settled into the cool silk sheets with a smile. My usual dream tech smiled back as she fastened my helmet, and the last thing I heard was her wishing me pleasant dreams before I was plunged into darkness.
I waited for the split-second adjustment from reality to the dream world, and my confusion grew when I didn't find myself on my throne surrounded by fawning gods and goddesses.
Instead, I found myself in the middle of an endless street. Alone. There were no cars, no life, not even wind. Towering street lamps lined the sidewalk as far as I could see, arcing over the road and tinting everything an eerie red. Behind them, identical buildings stood side by side, silent, their dark, narrow windows hollow.
My pulse spiking, I whipped around. The other direction was just as endless. Uneasy confusion prickled beneath my skin. This had to be someone else's dream. The techs must have made a mistake. I didn't know how it was possible, but there was no other explanation.
My unease piqued as my situation sank in. I was in a stranger's dream and I didn't know the key. I was stuck here until my five hours ran out. Or until the techs realized their mistake. I was ready to rip them a new one once I was out, but until then, I had no choice but to wait.
I studied my surroundings with a frown before I walked over to the curb and sat down, and that was when I noticed I couldn't feel anything. I also noticed I was naked. It didn't matter. There was no one here, and none of this was real anyway.
Time passed, and I tried to distract myself from my nettled offense by humming, but no sound came out. Sitting up, I took a deep breath and screamed. Not even a squeak was heard. I slapped my hand against the ground. Nothing. This place was like a black hole of the senses.
Sighing, I lay down on my back and stared at the red light above me, wondering if I could fall asleep in a dream. I tried, but the more I wished to escape this silent, crimson prison, the more it seemed to come into focus. Soon, the utter lack of noise and movement grew from slightly unnerving to completely intolerable.
There was no way I could wait. I'd go insane. I had to get out of here. I had to find the key.
Jumping up, I ran to the nearest building and wrenched open the door, and a pitch black void greeted me. I gasped, and gasped again as it felt like my very breath was being suctioned out of my lungs. Panicking, silent wheezes rattled in my chest as I struggled to yank myself out of the vacuum, jerking my limbs and bucking my body until I toppled over backwards on the sidewalk.
Gulping in fitful breaths, I scrambled to my feet and ran down the road without looking back, my wide eyes scanning the horizon for salvation. I just wanted out of here, but the hellish path stretched on forever, making me feel like I was running in place as every identical building and street lamp mocked me. Even my silent stomping and mute panting served to draw insanity closer.
And then, a person showed up.
There, in the distance.
With my hope spurred, I raced towards them, desperate. I didn't care who they were. I needed to break this monotony.
As I got closer, hope morphed to confusion, and then to despair. The person was me. It was a mirror, propped up across the entire street.
Sweat-soaked, I slowed down to a jog before I stopped right in front of my reflection. It was me alright, naked, exhausted, and frustrated. But the eyes, something was off about the eyes. With an anxious frown, I stepped closer, staring into them, and they stared back …
… until they glanced behind me.
I gasped and jumped away, and so did my reflection … before it glanced over my shoulder again.
A chill trickled down my spine. My reflection had nothing behind it but the empty street, so I gulped and turned around, and my mouth fell open in a silent scream as a lovecraftian behemoth barrelled its way towards me. With its slick shell gleaming red beneath the lights, it slammed down one spiny tentacle after the other as its five mouths bared their dripping, concentric fangs.
Drenched in undiluted horror, tremors gripped my body as I stumbled away until my back was against the mirror. I knew death was a foolproof key in a dream, but I didn't know if this creature would kill me right away or leave me to suffer in agony until my five hours were up.
With it only inches away, I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed myself into the mirror, and my stomach flipped as I fell backwards. I opened my mouth to gasp, but there was nothing for me to draw in. Floating in an airless void, I flailed and thrashed, my wild eyes scanning the darkness for answers as I began to spin around.
Although death would free me, one of my greatest fears was suffocating. On one of my weightless rotations, a red, glass cube passed me by, and I grabbed it, hoping it was a breathing device. I brought it close to my face, and I gawked at what it held within.
Me.
Surrounded by identical buildings and red street lamps while a lovecraftian behemoth tore me apart.
Horrified, I threw the cube as far as I could and increased my efforts to escape this void. Yet all the flailing and thrashing was for naught as the darkness revealed no end. My eyesight began to go red as my lungs spasmed, and I clawed at my throat as my pulse stuttered in my chest.
The red kept growing and growing until it engulfed my entire vision, and I gave up. There was nothing to do but face my fears and die. With my straining heart lumbering, I let myself go limp as I stared at the red and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I wasn't dying.
In fact, I could breathe just fine.
Frowning, I opened my eyes, and intense unease spread through my core. Above me, a red moon had taken up the entire sky, each one of its craters crystal clear, like eyes watching me. I turned my head away, and I realized I was in a park, laying down on the grass. Sitting up, I blinked in surprise at the pond right beside me, its opaque water reflecting the moon's red light. Ducks were swimming in a circle across its surface, their movements smooth with nary a splash.
Trees surrounded us, so dense I couldn't tell when one began and the other ended. It was mind-numbingly quiet here as well, and I still couldn't feel anything or make any noise, but at least the ducks were moving. This place seemed more tolerable than the last, and I was willing to wait out my five hours here. I hoped at least an hour had passed already, but with dreams, one never knew. All I knew was that I was too exhausted to search for the key. And too scared. I didn't know whose dream this was, but they had to be masochistic if they saved this nightmare.
Curling up beside the pond, I worked on calming myself down as I watched the ducks swim in their systematic circle over and over and over. I tried counting the rotations the way one would count sheep, but that still didn't lull me to sleep. I wished I'd chosen the three-hour projection, but at least I hadn't chosen the eight-hour one.
Distorted circus music crackled around me and I jolted up, my heart ricocheting in my chest. There was finally sound, but the last thing I wanted to hear was a cliche horror movie soundtrack. Gulping, I looked around. The music was coming from the trees, and my stomach dropped when I spied a shadow behind one of them. Then another. And another. They emerged into the crimson moonlight, and my blood turned to ice.
Clowns.
I whipped around, trembling to the rhythm of my frantic pulse. They were surrounding me. Dozens of them. As classic as any clown could be. Colorful clothes, big shoes, silly hair, exaggerated makeup. I wasn't scared of clowns, as long as they were where they belonged. And they didn't belong here, staring at me with big, empty eyes and yellow, toothy grins.
I tried to convince myself that they weren't dangerous since they didn't have weapons and didn't seem monstrous, but when they took a step closer in unison, I jumped back, nearly falling into the pond. The ducks remained oblivious, still swimming in their circle. The distorted circus music got louder, and my hair stood on end when I saw the grass ripple in front of each clown. They were sending something my way through the ground.
Panicking, I jumped into the pond, and I screamed as I sank right in. There was no bottom. There was no water either. The pond was filled with red, translucent spheres, each the size of a tennis ball. Still able to breathe, I began swimming through the spheres with clumsy breast strokes, just hoping I could end up as far away from the clowns as possible.
After swimming for what felt like enough time, I tried to swim up, until I realized I had no idea which direction I was facing. Remember a trick for those stuck in avalanches, I spat, but my glob of saliva just hovered in front of me. Before panic could set in, I noticed what looked like an office desk floating amidst the spheres in the distance. After blinking a few times to make sure it was really there, I swam towards it, desperate for any change in my situation.
It was an office desk, a wooden one with carved borders and locked drawers. Tucked beneath it was a stool, and the moment I pulled it out and set it under my ass, an office replaced the red spheres.
I grunted as gravity returned, and I looked around in bewilderment at the cluttered bookshelves and grimy floors. Dust was floating everywhere, highlighted by the red light filtering in through the blinds behind me. I jumped as a clock hanging on the wall chimed. Its glass was too dirty for me to tell the time, but I was glad I could hear. I coughed at the dust. And I could make noise. I dusted my hands. And I could feel. I could even smell, which I now wished I couldn't as I wrinkled my nose at the faint stench of rot.
After failing to read the spines of some of the books on the shelves, I studied the shadowy corners of the room. A slack-jawed skeleton hung in the far end, and a faded poster with anatomical diagrams curled off a cupboard. This had to be a doctor's office. Was the creator of this dream a doctor?
A silhouette slid in front of the frosted glass door, and I gulped as the knob began to turn. A hand reached in, gripping the edge one finger at a time, and my heart dropped as I knew this horror cliche was only going to be followed by another. Having no time to think, I slid off the stool and crouched beneath the desk, my hand over my mouth as cobwebs clung to me.
Praying spiders wouldn't swarm me, I peeked through a small slit in the wood, and I froze when an emaciated nurse walked in the room. Layers upon layers of blood coated her scrubs, so much so that I couldn't even tell what color they originally were. She had no shoes. No feet either. Just ankle stubs, and my stomach turned as I heard bone clunk against the tiles.
A surgical mask covered her face, as bloodstained as her scrubs, and grimy lab goggles obscured her eyes. I was grateful, because judging by the pus leaking out of her scabbed, balding scalp, I didn't want to know what her face looked like. The closer she got, the stronger the stench of rot became, and I struggled to keep myself from retching.
She stopped halfway into the room, and I gawked at her hands. They were transforming. Her fingers elongating into razor-edged blades. She then began to hunch over, and I cringed as her spine cracked and popped until she was as bent as a candy cane, her face staring at her pelvis.
As if that wasn't unsettling enough, her head creaked as it spun around 180 degrees, now facing the front, upside down. Right after, her arms shot to the ground, and I watched with increasing dread as she bent them at the elbows and wrists so they flanked her head like distorted T-Rex arms.
She spread her fingers out and took a few more steps towards me, and I held my breath, hoping she couldn't hear my rabid heart or smell my fear. Her ankle bones clicked and clacked against the tiles as she made her way around the desk, and I cowered as my frantic eyes searched for a weapon. I found none, but I did spy a brass button beside my head.
With her legs now an arms distance away, I had nothing to lose as I jammed my thumb into the button. The back of the desk flung open, and I scrambled to my feet and dashed out from my hiding place, screaming in response to the nurse screeching behind me. Bursting through the door, I held up my fists and began punching like a maniac in fearful anticipation of a horde of nurses swarming me.
Except I was no longer in a hospital. I was in an outdoor parking lot. Alone. And judging by the roiling red clouds, a storm was brewing. After a second to collect my bearings, I dove into the closest car, thankful it was unlocked. The moment I slammed the door shut, lightning blinded me as thunder cracked and the downpour began. Sighing in relief, I tried to shake away my adrenaline, but the bloodshot eyes in my rearview mirror reignited my panic.
Before I could react, a belt snapped over my neck, pinning my head back against the headrest. With a frightened wheeze, I clawed at the leather, and I flinched as hot, heavy breath wafted across my ear. Gagging at the putrid smell, I reached over, desperate to scratch my strangler's face or poke their eyes out.
I felt their greasy hair and tried to pull it, but my fingers refused to hold on. I tried again and again, using my nails for purchase, but the strands just kept slipping out of my weak grip. Shifting focus, I tried to claw at their eyes, but it felt as though I was moving through molasses as my hand slid down their face. Once I felt a wet, bulbous eye, I tried to scratch it, but I didn't have enough strength to do anything damage.
My frustration clashed with my terror and I tried to punch them, but my arm swung back in slow motion and merely prodded a stubbly cheek. Tears welled in my eyes as I writhed and gasped, my strangler's laugh adding insult to injury. Despite knowing death will set me free, fear and self-preservation rummaged through my mind, searching for a solution. And they found one.
Hoping I had enough grip and energy, I reached down and found the reclining lever. Wrapping my fingers around it tight, I jerked it up and heaved my body back, and I gulped in a deep breath as I fell backwards, the belt now slack. Not at all prepared to face my attacker, I slipped out from beneath the belt, flung open the door, and zoomed out into the storm.
Sheets of rain obscured my vision, but not enough for me to see that the keys were left inside a red convertible. After making sure no one was hiding in the back, I jumped in, started the engine, and took off, the wheels squealing through the puddles. A sole street curled down a hill, and I took it, adrenaline pumping in waves through my quivering body.
This rush was a confusing mixture of exhilaration and apprehension. I wanted out, but I wasn't giving up. I made it this far, and I was going to survive every cliche this masochist dreamed up. Sharks? Snakes? Zombies? Bring it on. And afterwards, I was going to detail every single trial and tribulation I went through as I sued the dream bank for all the trauma they caused me.
Up ahead, the road curved, and I gasped as it ended in a cliff. I slammed the breaks, but they didn't do anything. Breaking out in a cold sweat, I slammed them again and again as I yanked the hand break as far as it would go. The car refused to slow down, and I cursed myself for not anticipating this cliche. In a move of desperation, I swerved, but it wasn't enough as the car careened over the edge and took me with it.
My heart hung in my throat as I hung on to the steering wheel, my knuckles white, my screams frozen in my lungs, the raindrops like needles. An endless body of water spread below me, and I knew sharks were my next challenge. I screwed my eyes shut as I awaited the inevitable plunge …
… and I gasped as the car crashed against the surface.
I lurched forward, and I cried out as I bashed my forehead against the wheel. Groaning, I leaned back, my ears ringing as I looked around, disoriented. I was still in the convertible, but we were right side up, having crashed into the concrete wall of an indoor garage. Blood trickled down my face and I reached up, only to feel around my head in shock.
I was wearing the helmet.
Why was it in the dream?
Or had I made it out?
I looked down. I wasn't naked. My pyjamas were plastered to my sweat-soaked skin. I was out. I looked around at the broken glass and mangled metal in confusion. But if I was finally out, why was I in a car and not between silk sheets?
I removed the helmet, and a yell from behind made me jump. I turned to see one of the dream techs running towards me. Was she always that skinny? And why were her scrubs red instead of the usual blue?
She made it to me, panting as she took the helmet out of my hands, and I wrinkled my nose at her unpleasant breath. She said I'd had a nightmare and began sleepwalking, and I'd left the dream bank and stole a car from their underground parking before she triggered a wake-up signal in the helmet, which made me crash.
I stared at her, not believing what I was hearing. I told her I'd booked a projection, not a recording, and she gave me a concerned frown and claimed the opposite. Anger replaced my confusion, and I called her a liar and accused them of misconduct, and she reminded me that dreams can only be unlocked by the dreamer.
Furious, I cursed at her as I tried to get out of the car, demanding to see my file. She was quick to tell me not to move in case I made my injuries worse as she pulled out her phone and said she was going to call an ambulance.
While I sat there and waited, fuming, I glimpsed my reflection in the dangling rearview mirror. Unease rippled beneath my skin and I sat up, grabbing the mirror and angling it to show my neck.
There was an angry red mark across it.
As though I was recently strangled.
Trembling, I tilted the mirror up.
Cobwebs. Stuck in my hair.
Dumbstruck in utter stupefaction, I scanned the rest of my body. My pyjamas were dirty and there was black under my fingernails, but the rest of my examination was cut short by tinny circus music. A chill jolted down my spine and I whipped my head to face the dream tech. That was her ringtone. She smiled as she answered the call, and I drew back at her yellow, toothy grin.
What was going on? I was out of the dream, I knew I was. Had everything been real? What had the dream bank done with me? Done to me?
Ambulance sirens wailed as they entered the underground parking, and the flashing red lights reflecting off the walls triggered my recent traumas. With terror-fueled adrenaline flooding my veins, I jerked my legs free of the wreck, jumped out of the car, and booked it, the dream tech's yells merging with the screeching sirens behind me.
SR

Whilst out celebrating his anniversary with my mother, my dad was knocked unconscious in an unprovoked attack outside a pub. He was punched from behind and was unconscious for almost 5 minutes. The attacker also punched my mum to the floor when she ran to help my dad.
The whole thing was very clearly caught on CCTV and happened in front of numerous witnesses who gave statements. Despite all this, the attacker was just let off with a caution and had his gun licence revoked. Even with the damning evidence of the CCTV and my dad wanting to press charges they didn't even put it forward to the CPS and they won't even explain why.
Does anyone know what to do next? My family are so upset and disappointed with the lack of justice. The police even told us themselves that the CCTV video was disgusting to watch and he wouldn't get away with it. Why has he walked free despite the evidence and my dad wanting to press charges?
We just got told from the police about how remorseful he was and because it was his first offence he walked free. We feel like he has been taken care of more than my dad, the victim. The attacker was a very well known member of our community so I have a feeling he was getting looked after by the police.
Does anyone know what we can do next? Is there anything to do to get justice? Or is the police decision to not charge final?

Every once in a while that one DPR transcript we all know gets posted on here - the introductory tape that begins with "Hello Bitch. Are you comfortable right now?"
I posted in this as a comment in another thread but figured I'd make an actual post since it seems like not many people know that there is a second and almost equally horrifying transcript from that sadistic SOB.
(Obviously NSFW)

"Okay, bitch, we both know what you've been brought here for: a lot of fucking and sucking. Your wrists and ankles are chained and you're gagged because you're not gonna like the way I do it. You're going to be kept here naked and chained down. I'm going to use you for a sex slave. I'm into bondage and S&M. It's kind of hard to find a willing partner as it goes for that shit, so when I get the urge, I go out, find some good-looking little bitch that turns me on, kidnap her, and keep her in my playroom for a while for a sex toy. And this time it's your turn.
You're going to be tied or chained in different positions, whipped, raped repeatedly in your cunt, mouth, and asshole, and your tits and sex organs are going to be abused and tortured in a variety of different ways. I'm not going to cut you up or do anything that will cause serious injury, and don't worry about being killed, I don't plan to do that either. As long as you don't know me you don't present a risk, and in a week or two when I'm through with you, you can be turned loose. Your tits, pussy, and asshole is going to be stretched, swollen, and sore as hell. You'll have some whip marks, and you'll probably have a few blisters on your tits, nipples, and sex organs from cigarette burns...but nothing that won't heal up in a few days. You're going to be tied in a variety of different positions, but for the most part you'll be kept on a rectangular table chained down spread-eagled; your legs forced extremely wide apart. If your tits are big enough, I'm going to tie ropes around them and squeeze them with the ropes. They'll also be squeezed with a breast press, and I'm going to put clamps on each one of your nipples with long nylon cords on each one, and tie the cords very tight to ceiling rings overhead. I'm going to see just how far I can stretch your tits, and we're going to stretch your clit, and if you pass out while I'm doing this shit, I'll revive you with ammonia inhalants. I want you to feel every second of it.
And if you piss on yourself, I'm going to insert a catheter plug in your urethra, stop the hole up, the plug that I've got is pretty big and it's painful, and I'll leave it in until you're turned loose. I'm going to use an electroshock machine with the clamps attached to your nipples, clit, or to metal probes that'll be inserted into your pussy and asshole, and I'm going to stick needles in and through your nipples, tits, clit, and cunt lips. I have a hell of a good assortment of dildos, different sizes, everything from standard penis size up into some real monsters; three and a half four inches thick, about as big as a baby's head. What I plan to do with you is start with the smaller ones, stick them in your cunt and ass, play in your holes for a while, and each time a dildo is taken out, a little bit larger one will be put back in its place.
I'm going to experiment on you and see how large your holes can eventually be stretched. I've done it to a lot of women over the years, and you'd be surprised at how large dildos that I'm eventually going to be able to force into you, particularly in your pussy, and that hell is designed to have a baby come out of, I'm just gonna be going the wrong way. I'm sure that it goes without saying that you will not be given any opportunity to escape. A long heavy chain is going to be kept locked around your neck all the time that you're here, even if you did manage to get your hands and feet loose, there's no way in hell you get that chain over your head. I've told you exactly what I plan to do and it's going to be painful as hell, that's the way I want it to be, but it is not part of my fantasies to do permanent damage unless I'm provoked. You know, I've got a hell of a bad temper. I'm vindictive as hell. I move around a lot so it's of little consequence if you know where you're being kept, because when you're released, I'll be on my way to some of the town or state, but don't try to find out too much about me. If I thought that she knew enough to cause serious problems, you would not be turned loose. You would simply disappear so don't do anything to create a situation where it might become necessary.
But so much for that. I think you get the point, and right at the moment I'm pretty anxious to get you chained down on your back with your legs wide apart so I can give you a good examination, see what I've got to work with the next few days. As soon as I turn this tape off, you will have an excellent opportunity to try to beg for me to turn you loose. I may or may not be able to understand you through the gag, but if you want to, feel free to try. I love to listen to a bitch beg and plead...and this is the end of the tape."'

Source: https://lostmediawiki.com/David_Parker_Ray_(found_audio_tape_of_American_suspected_serial_killer;_1993)

Their home, the Olive Garden Purgatory for Displaced Overseas Royals, was purchased for $14.65mil in an off market sale in June 2020, mortgaged.
LA Times Confirmation: https://archive.ph/QgYkz
All of this is from a 'source close to the couple'. The final paragraph is clout listing nearby celebrity homes; final paragraph connecting the house to Oprah's neighbour.
HISTORY - Unsettling
Check out it’s true, unsettling history about a mentally ill man who was confined there for decades: https://archive.ph/2023.06.04-172407/https://www.hellomagazine.com/homes/2020081895556/prince-harry-meghan-markle-house-riven-rock-estate-history/
OFFICIAL DETAILS ON SUSSEX PURCHASE
Formal name is “Chateau of Riven Rock.” https://archive.ph/2023.06.04-170042/https://nypost.com/article/inside-prince-harry-meghan-markle-house-montecito/
Address: 765 Rockbridge Rd
Value: $14.65mil in Aug 2021, mortgaged.
Originally attempted to sell for $49.4mil in 2015:
https://archive.ph/2023.03.17-154553/http://www.extravaganzi.com/2015/05/03/the-chateau-of-riven-rock-montecito-on-sale-for-495-million/
Then reduced to $35 mil.
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/shut-the-front-door--54606214208991974/
And promoted in the LA Times in 2015 again for $35mil.
https://archive.ph/2020.08.16-045136/https://www.latimes.com/business/realestate/hot-property/la-fi-hotprop-montecito-chateau-20150612-story.html
Then reduced again for $22.9 mil.
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/520306563183572045/
By Oct 2020, listed on Giggster for rentals at $700/hr.
https://archive.is/2021.12.12-055410/https://www.montecitojournal.net/2020/10/29/harry-and-meghans-riven-rock-estate-on-giggste
Purchased from Russian oligarch, Sergey Grishin, who clearly took a multi million dollar loss in selling the property.
https://archive.ph/2022.03.06-220608/https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-8625319/How-Prince-Harry-Meghan-Markle-snapped-14-7m-dream-home-monster-Russian-tycoon.html
Appears to be owned by Rockbridge LLC, under Grishin.
Rockbridge LLC also took out two federal covid loans for under $50,000 in 2021 that appear to have been paid off in full or “forgiven.”
https://archive.ph/2023.06.04-180558/https://www.federalpay.org/paycheck-protection-program/rockbridge-llc-santa-barbara
The address for Rockbridge LLC is the same as the Wells Fargo in Montecito: 1482 E Valley Rd. Could theoretically have a box there.
Thie Rockbridge LLC shows up a bit with the financial deep dive, but appears to be a bit of a red herring as it only correlates to public record availability pre-Harry and Meg's purchase.
Grishin has since died.
Additional property records for previous owners and their LLCs:
https://homemetry.com/house/765+ROCKBRIDGE+RD,+Santa+Barbara+CA https://archive.ph/2023.06.04-180043/http://www.city-data.com/santa-barbara-county/Rockbridge-Road-1.html
So who actually owns it?
Update: Excellent work by a fellow sinner determined it was purchased via Real Residential Estate Trust whose address is identical to Meg’s business manager at the time in Bev Hills.
It can also be searched for on this sub under, "Who Really Owns the Montecito Olive Garden".
https://archive.ph/pnYEU
What they’ve said about it:

• there is a "stomach churning smell" from a nearby bird sanctuary

https://archive.ph/m0g61

• may not be able to insure and/or insurance is huge due to it being in mudslide zone

https://archive.ph/qzs05

• they are not “over the moon” about it. EAGER TO SELL AND MOVE ELSEWHERE

Confirmed in Jan 2022:
https://archive.ph/8HtsV
As recently as Aug 2022, even sympathetic Marie Claire mag is citing a 'source' that they are eager to sell and move. This article reads like a PR real estate advertisement for the home.
https://archive.ph/vjNJt
TAXATION DETAILS
Tax assessment for 2021 - 2022 is $141,000 roughly. Taxed at a rate of 1.04%….which seems to be more of a business tax rate….ownership intentionally omitted/redacted.
Current value of the home assessed at just under: $13.3 mil.
The 2021-2022 tax records for their address:
https://archive.ph/2023.06.04-175254/https://mytaxes.sbtaxes.org/WebPages/ReportHandler.aspx?ReportRequest=bill/PROD/SEC/202100002021100936611
Interestingly, they are listed as a Prop 13/AB8 which is why their initial taxes were soooo low at 1.04%. This means their property taxes are reevaluated with the current market value of their property as measured by the sale price for change of ownership.
https://taxes.co.santa-barbara.ca.us/propertytax/taxrates.asp?FiscalYear=2022&TRA=061008
https://www.sccassessor.org/faq/understanding-proposition-13
Here’s the really deep dives for fiscally interested sinners:
https://www.edcgov.us/Government/Auditor-ControllePropTax/pages/distribution_of_proposition_13_s_1__general_property_tax.aspx
https://content.civicplus.com/api/assets/43f8a34b-36ec-4959-8a9b-3f1bf4bfec17
IF/WHEN THEY SELL, OTHER NEARBY PROPERTIES FOR COMPARISON

1. Neighbour’s home:

Address: Photo in the article places it next door to Harry and Meg's home.
Value: For sale in March 2021 for $22.5 mil.
https://archive.ph/2023.06.04-165225/https://nypost.com/2021/03/08/montecito-home-next-to-prince-harry-meghan-markle-on-sale-for-29m/
45 days on the market, then an offer, then a press release stating that they are still open to other offers. This usually indicates it was a low ball offer significantly below the asking price.
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/757027018614924479/

1. Netflix Montecito filming home:

Let’s take a moment to fully acknowledge their authentic, “at home” 'documentary' had the majority not actually filmed at their home.
Address: 888 Lilac Drive
Value: Listed Dec 2022 for $33.5 mil.
https://archive.ph/2023.06.04-173046/https://robbreport.com/sheltehomes-for-sale/harry-and-meghan-documentary-compound-lists-1234787523/
This was where they filmed Netflix. It was filmed in another Montecito home they passed off indirectly as theirs, as they never clarified it was not their home during filming their 'behind the scenes'. Harry was likely paranoid about a security risk, whereas Meg likely saw an opportunity for implied flexing. She knows the Olive Garden beige property is dated. Filmed in a home valued over twice as much as theirs.
As of March 2023, still on the market at its original price.
https://archive.ph/2023.06.04-173844/https://www.mansionglobal.com/articles/inside-the-montecito-villa-where-harry-and-meghan-filmed-their-documentary-25a05f99

1. Neighbour’s home #3

Address: 830 Riven Rock Rd. According to Google maps, a 2 min drive or 7 min walk from the Sussexes.
Value: Sold for $14.5mil in Apr 2022.
https://archive.ph/2023.06.04-171250/https://www.redfin.com/CA/Santa-Barbara/830-Riven-Rock-Rd-93108/home/21608407.
IN SUM:

• they do own it, via a speculated Meg-created LLC, mortgaged
• they bought it heavily discounted, after multiple markdowns and even rentals
• there are major problems, that they themselves at times continued to publicize
• they are avoiding filming there (Spare interviews at San Ysidro, Oprah interview, Netflix) outside of the 40x40 ball juggling Harry while Meg reigns from her Bench of beige throne.
• their property tax rate is VERY low

​
No confirmation on if one, both, or neither are living there. However, there are multiple reports swirling that Harry (or Meg) may regularly retreat to a room at San Ysidro Ranch. This includes the thank you card recently publicized for the bike Archie was recently gifted for his birthday, but interestingly publicized a month later, sent from an employee of SYR. Google maps puts it at a. 7 min drive from their address.
​
Also keep in mind any RivenRock allusions in online accounts, donations, or LLCs....perhaps could be illuminating for who is behind them.
So there you have it. Make of it what you will.