https://thewest.com.au/sport/fremantle-dockers/michael-walters-fremantle-dockers-veteran-inks-two-year-deal-set-to-become-one-club-player-c-10879071
Michael Walters has become Fremantle’s second key veteran to re-sign in as many weeks.
The 31-year-old has inked a two-year contract which sees him remain at the Dockers until at least the end of 2025, making him a one-club player.
“I’m thrilled to announce I’ve signed on for another two years. I’m very excited, very happy and it makes me a one-club player, which is good,” Walters told the club website.
“It’s the club I always wanted to come to, the club that I’ve been at for my whole adulthood. It’s good to be here for a further two years.
“We (Walters and Fyfe) have been here for a long time, we’ve seen a lot of players come and go through the team and the young group that are stepping up at the moment are playing some unreal footy.
“The young boys are always eager to learn, get better each and every day, which also keeps us motivated. The ultimate team success is something that we’re chasing and something we want to get before we do retire.”
Walters has kicked 16 goals from nine games this season but missed Fremantle’s last win over Melbourne at the MCG with a calf issue.
He remains a chance to return against Richmond at Optus Stadium on Saturday as the Dockers aim for a fifth victory on the trot.
“I was close (to playing Narrm), I could have pushed myself but there’s no point pushing yourself when the team is in good form,” Walters said.
“They went over and got the job done. The bye helps me to rest up and get the calf right.
“You don’t want to get injured but it was a good time the injury did come, and I was lucky enough I got to play the first Sir Doug Nicholls Round game (against Geelong), it’s a round I love and am passionate about, and I try and perform in.
“The plan is to get back for the Richmond clash, I don’t want to push myself, but I can’t help myself! There’s no doubt I’ll put my hand up for sure.”
Walters sits 10th on Fremantle’s all-time games list with 211, with Fyfe (214) the only current Docker to have played more.
He’s got the opportunity to go past Stephen Hill (218) this season and the likes of Shaun McManus (228), Shane Parker (238), Luke McPharlin, Michael Johnson (244) and even Aaron Sandilands (271) by the end of his new deal barring any injuries.

In light of all the negative threads about toxicity, smerfs and what not I'd like to know what are the things that's that keep you coming back to rocket league?
The first thing I like about rocket league is that I get to play my favorite sport in a different and unique setting. I grew up playing soccer most of my life and peaked as a semi-pro/armature league player. Rocket League is the closest game I enjoy that isn't Fifa or likewise.
The second thing I like is how simple yet complex the game is. I'll watch replays of when I first started in 2015 to now. The goals, the plays and the ,"omg I got my first double touch air dribble goal", will always be a core memory.
And finally the 3rd thing I like about RL is the community. Yes at times we can all be condescending but overall we all support eachothers milestones and thoughts on the game.
Anyhoo hope this makes for a good change of pace in the reddit realm. Until next time, may the 50/50s be in your favor.

This subreddit will be joining in on the June 12th-14th protest of Reddit's API changes that will essentially kill all 3rd party Reddit apps.

What's going on?

A recent Reddit policy change threatens to kill many beloved third-party mobile apps, making a great many quality-of-life features not seen in the official mobile app permanently inaccessible to users.
On May 31, 2023, Reddit announced they were raising the price to make calls to their API from being free to a level that will kill every third party app on Reddit, from Apollo to Reddit is Fun to Narwhal to BaconReader.
Even if you're not a mobile user and don't use any of those apps, this is a step toward killing other ways of customizing Reddit, such as Reddit Enhancement Suite or the use of the old.reddit.com desktop interface .
This isn't only a problem on the user level: many subreddit moderators depend on tools only available outside the official app to keep their communities on-topic and spam-free.

What's the plan?

On June 12th, many subreddits will be going dark to protest this policy. Some will return after 48 hours: others will go away permanently unless the issue is adequately addressed, since many moderators aren't able to put in the work they do with the poor tools available through the official app. This isn't something any of us do lightly: we do what we do because we love Reddit, and we truly believe this change will make it impossible to keep doing what we love.
The two-day blackout isn't the goal, and it isn't the end. Should things reach the 14th with no sign of Reddit choosing to fix what they've broken, we'll use the community and buzz we've built between then and now as a tool for further action.

What can you do as a user?

• Complain. Message the mods of /reddit.com, who are the admins of the site: message reddit: submit a support request: comment in relevant threads on /reddit, such as this one, leave a negative review on their official iOS or Android app- and sign your username in support to this post.
  
• Spread the word. Rabble-rouse on related subreddits. Meme it up, make it spicy. Bitch about it to your cat. Suggest anyone you know who moderates a subreddit join the coordinated mod effort at /ModCoord.
  
• Boycott and spread the word...to Reddit's competition! Stay off Reddit entirely on June 12th through the 13th- instead, take to your favorite non-Reddit platform of choice and make some noise in support!
  
• Don't be a jerk. As upsetting this may be, threats, profanity and vandalism will be worse than useless in getting people on our side. Please make every effort to be as restrained, polite, reasonable and law-abiding as possible.
  

What can you do as a moderator?

• Join the coordinated effort over at /ModCoord
  
• Make a sticky post showing your support, A template has been created here you can use or modify to your liking, and be sure to crosspost it to /ModCoord.
  

Thank you for your patience in the matter,
-Mod Team

I’m planning to get a 16” M1 Pro and I found this in Amazon Renewed, I have the following questions:

• Is 1550$ a good price for this machine?
• Have you heard of people having problems with Amazon Renewed products?

I have had a day now to reflect on the last month. A major relapse on my over a decade long battle with compulsive gambling. Now at 30 and with a higher salary the total monetary value of the losses in this episode is much higher. But I can end it today in a position that I can recover from.
There have been many times over the last 10 years where I have gambled away every dollar I had and had to live off a shoestring or cash load or pawn shop to survive to the next paycheck. There was even an episode of stealing from my parents. All though my losses at the time were in the hundreds or the low thousands it was everything I had. I can't think of a time back then where I had 10k to my name.
In the last couple of years I got a much better job than I had back then and I nicer salary. More importantly I have not been gambling. I managed to save 80k. My problem is sports betting. In the last month I wiped away half of that. That represented my 15k in savings 10k in spending account. And a further 15k in my credit card. With my next paycheck and selling my 10k crypto portfolio I was able to payoff credit immediately. That just left my 40k stocks portfolio which luckily for me would take time to sell and has been enough of an inconvenience for me to need to stop and think about what I was doing.
After the first 2 weeks I was 20k down and just could not let it go. I had to make it back. And here we are now. Down another 20. My bet size for sports bets and multis is much larger now than it had been in the past. I was placing a lot of 2 or 3k bets with roughly 3x payoffs and of course missing. One betting agencys responsible gambling division even contacted me and I agreed to letting them block my account. I managed to lost another roughly 4k through other agencies since then but now I have closed all those accounts.
It's pretty fucked and very disappointing. You all know the feeling. I was vaguely looking into getting into housing market as my net worth approached 100k. That is now set back at least 6 months. On top of the money my health and performance at work took a huge hit. For me compulsive gambling and binge eating go together plus poor sleep and lack of interest in my job.
Anyway I know the only way out now is to completely stop and let go of the money I lost. I am very grateful not to be in debt and to have money for rent and food. I have a new girlfriend and it's early enough that she did not know my financial situation. So no one to explain a missing 40k to.
I only hope it is not a black mark that will mean I won't be able to get a home loan In the future.
In these next few months I am going to put my head down and focus on saving and getting in awesome physical shape. Plus try to focus on learning some new skills outside of work that will help me with my career and something else to hopefully be passionate in.
Something is out of wack with my outlook on life when I can free fall like this so willingly. Putting all my hard work at stake. Why do I act like I have nothing to lose. Like my future is not worth building towards. Or that it's something worth risking. Good things take time and effort. Gambling is a quick, cheep, empty and a sham shortcut.
This is day one for me and I plan to use this post as a diary for weekly updates to keep me motivated and focused.
Tldr: I lost half my 80k life savings in a month at 30. Thankfully no debt or dependents and as much as this sucks I am going to turn my life around starting now.

The day seemed like it would be ordinary until the aeronautical community’s most sought after document showed up on my doorstep.
It came wrapped in brown kraft paper tied off with twine, and the exterior packaging had no return address nor any indication of a postage stamp. It was as though it had been simply bundled up and dropped into my wall-mounted mailbox by a random passerby.
No part of me was willing to surrender the strange parcel without opening it first. Regardless of who its contents truly belonged to, my eyes would be the first to see it. I removed the twine and then dug a thumb under a fold in the packaging paper before clawing it away to expose a brown tan notebook circa 1900. It was full grain buffalo leather with a crisscross of cord for the spine and a thick hand cut string keeping it sealed shut.
When I undid the string, the pages that had been gripped tight by the leather fanned out gently then returned to their original position, my eyes landing on the front page. It was without a printer’s mark and read in big handwritten type: “THE DIARY AND RECORD OF HENRY H. HELGELAND.”
I knew in that instant the package was in the hands of who it was rightfully sent out for. Not just because I’d recently lost my job as an associate at our city’s art museum but because of a separate, much deeper connection to the diary’s author.
Perhaps it’s in my best interests to turn it over to the National Archives, or the US Arctic Research Commission, or maybe even the U.S. Capitol Visitor Center, but at the risk of seeing it blue-penciled to death, I’ve elected to instead share it here and now.
The world needs to know what happened.
---
Henry H. Helgeland — my great grandfather — was a severe looking man with a walrus mustache and a bone to pick with anyone who ever doubted him. He was born in Oakland, California in 1871 and was, by all available accounts relayed to me, well-behaved and well-liked. His father worked a lucrative job in the shipping industry, transporting timber between San Francisco and the Central Valley. Two years into Henry’s life, his mother would contract a fatal case of diphtheria and die shortly thereafter; when he was old enough to understand what had happened, Henry “yearn[ed] fervently for a reunion to mend [his] great anguish and sorrow.”
Near the turn of the 20th century, Henry attended Stanford University’s Department of Mechanical Engineering, where he learned everything from thermodynamics to machine design. But it was a lecture about polar transportation that would ultimately kindle his interest in a separate enterprise: arctic exploration. Indeed, the race to the North Pole was well underway, with naval officers, geologists, and aeronauts around the globe vying for the chance to make history. My great grandfather, like many of his peers, propounded the theory that he, and he alone, would be the first to reach the Great White North.
In 1895, Henry graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in mechanical engineering and sought to expand the member list of the so called Ascension Society, a student organization he’d assembled to aid engineering graduates with materials science. Many of its constituents had engaged in research projects and experimental setups to hone their craft of mechanical systems, but in time, however, the venture would instead prove a hotspot for investors and philanthropists. Donations averaging up to $5,000 helped fund and promote the fantastic ambitions of my great grandfather. So long as the Ascension Society was gracing him with their support, he’d be the first to reach the North Pole.
In early 1898, armed with enough capital, Henry used the proceeds to purchase the materials required for the balloon.
---
A notable circus at the forefront of traveling attractions in the early twentieth century was The Fielding Troupe. With its impressive lineup of talent — from fire eaters and aerialists to equestrians and strongmen — the ensemble drew crowds from nearly every town in western America during its historic run. Its wide reach would ultimately reel in many notable faces, including my great grandfather.
Prior to a performance in Oakland, the Fielding Troupe led a procession through the town around Stanford University, announcing their arrival with a parade of wagons, floats, and animals. The strategy, as it were, was to drum up as much publicity and fanfare as possible. Evidently it worked, as a healthy fraction of the faculty and student body at Stanford made the trip over to Oakland in order to see the troupe in action.
Surrounding their arena with two hundred feet of heavy duty tent canvas, the troupe put on a show for the ages the night Henry was in attendance, with extravagant acrobatics, trained animal performances, and a special appearance from Curtis the Clown. Following a skillful display of juggling and good natured audience ribbing, Curtis’s master stroke was an intricate stunt involving balloons and wire flying. Firstly, he would inflate several multi-colored balloons and tie them off with string, securing them firmly in his grip. They served as a flashy distraction from the piece of flexible metal snaking out from the harness he had concealed under his equally flashy costume. Then, with a whisper of strength, a couple stagehands hoisted the balloon-carrying clown thirty feet into the air to make it appear as though he was levitating by virtue of the balloons alone. A separate performer — a marksman — showed off his sharpshooting skills with a Winchester model rifle and gunned down the balloons, exploding each one as the stagehands loosened their hold on Curtis’s harness until he was eased to the ground.
Henry watched the routine with eager delight. Seeing Curtis the Clown float above a hundred or so onlookers helped stir within him a plan. The ceiling of the Big Top Tent where Curtis had concluded his ascent represented more than the centerpiece of a traveling circus.
“Ascendancy,” Henry muttered to his wife Ruth. “This is how we get to the top of the world.”
---
The spherical vessel measured sixty-five feet in diameter, with a capacity of over 200,000 cubic feet. Its construction was overseen by Henry and a couple french engineers who installed in its gondola three berths and ample ballast to keep it stable. The gondola, a carefully constructed assemblage of wicker and chestnut wood, was built as such to bar any interference to the magnetic instruments of the explorers. Keeping it shielded against severe weather conditions was a varnished silk calotte and a vaselined net composed of over four-hundred hemp cords. A bamboo pole was attached bellow the carrying ring to attach the side sails and, perhaps most notably, the balloon was fitted with hemp and cocoa nut fiber guide ropes to help steer and maintain a consistent altitude.
After two years of exhaustive construction, work on the balloon was completed in 1900. Henry named it Ascension, after the society that funded its creation.
---
What follows are several selected passages lifted directly from Henry’s memorandum, transcribed by me. The first entry reads:
“At nine o'clock on the forenoon, May 5, 1900, under the auspices of the Ascension Society, we embarked from the 71st parallel on our quest of the Pole. Our great journey sets off from Point Barrow, Alaska following a grueling adventure aboard the steamer Sursum. I, Henry Helgeland, travel forth, accompanied by Charles Ringvold, esteemed navigator, and Edward Meyer, long celebrated physician, into the arctic wilderness. Together, our efforts will generate a most formidable team and an unwavering spirit. We will ascend.”
Indeed, the SS Sursum disembarked from a port in San Francisco in mid May of that year; it offered easy access to the Pacific Ocean and sailed through the Bering Strait, covering over 3,000 nautical miles before reaching Point Barrow on July 2.
When the balloon took off, carried by a fierce north east wind, it was to a thunderous applause from those that had come to bear witness to the bold endeavor. Among them were crew members of the SS Sursum, high ranking associates of the Ascension Society, and carpenters tasked with helping the balloon reach its initial phase of liftoff.
As it elevated to 300 hundred feet and passed around an onlooking whaler, Henry was reported to have shouted: “To the top of the world, hurrah!”
---
36 hours would elapse before a second entry was made.
“July 4, 1900, Lat. 77° 48' N, Long. 143° 4' W. We are soaring at a height of 600 feet above the Earth's surface, traveling at a speed of approximately seven kilometers per hour. Our morale remains similarly aloft. Charles relayed to me that, God willing, we anticipate reaching the pole in roughly 800 miles. Beyond the drag ropes lending their ballast to our journey, optimism is our guiding force. We will ascend.”
Turbulent air currents had a different plan in mind, however.
“July 5, 1900, Lat. 80° 8' N, Long. 138° 37' W. Alas! Our aerial journey came to an abrupt halt yestereve on the 80th parallel. We voyaged as many as 500 miles before a forceful downdraft spun our vehicle on its vertical axle and compelled it into a sharp descent; we had lost what we estimate to be just over 100 cubic feet of gas.
“Edward suffered severe injuries during the initial impact and claims his vertebrae have been shattered, leaving him immobile. We’re at the mercy of the floe on which we now rest, at the mercy of the Polar Sea. Should we face the specter of death, we shall meet it with unwavering honor. We will ascend.”
---
“July 6, 1900. We find ourselves solitary in the barren expanse, accompanied only by bergs, ice-fields, and majestic glaciers. Our rations encompass a container’s worth of hardtack, enough salted beef for approximately one week, canned stew, dried apricots, some chocolate bars, and seven bottles of ale.
“Edward’s outlook remains grim; he suspects he’ll never walk again. In witness of his current state, I’m beginning to share in such apprehensions. Edward, whom we have reposed on on of our sledges, fears that the opportunity to make known the great love he holds for his mistress Rebecca is one he’ll never be granted. ‘You shall be reunited at once,’ I assured him. ‘Our journey to triumph will not be thwarted by minor inconveniences.’
“We’ve plotted the course to our next destination: that being Herschel Island, located off the coast of Canada in the Beaufort Sea. Charles — who shares in Edward’s dismay — estimates a three month footslog spanning just under one thousand miles is in store for us, perhaps more given Edward’s ailment. I am determined to see this mission to its completion, yet survival remains a paramount desire. Who’s to recount our extraordinary journey should we fail?
“While establishing our encampment and scouting the local flora of the area for additional sources of sustenance, I happened upon a plant of an unknown species. Half a meter tall, bulbous tubers, and thin roots terminating in clusters of white flowers; intuition suggests this is a water hemlock, which precludes it from edibility. Nevertheless, I shall regard this finding as one of great fortune. A portent of divine value. We will ascend.”
---
Two days later, gold prospectors off the Alaskan coast at Nome beach were in the process of emptying their sluice boxes when from the sky flew a carrier pigeon directly to their mining site. It bore a label with the inscription “Helgeland” and contained the following dispatch:
“July 7, 1900. First dog watch. Three southerly traveling carrier-pigeons were sent off at approximately 7 h. 40 p.m. Pacific Standard Time, the following among them. This is Rear Admiral Charles Ringvold of the United States Navy and the Helgeland Balloon Expedition of 1900. Our hopes of reaching the pole have been reduced to naught. Assistance urgently needed. Our destinies have hitherto been unknown, and now my fears have been actualized. GO IN TERROR OF HENRY HELGELAND. He is not who he proclaims to be. I volunteered for a man of honorable stature and venturesome drive. The man before me betrays neither.”
The remainder of the message was a hasty scrawl, decrypted only by the best in linguistics and modern codebreaking.
“UNASSISTED WE WILL PERISH HELPED WE WILL PERSEVERE PLEASE GOD HELP US HENRY WILL KILL US ALL DO NOT BELIEVE WHAT HE PROCLAIMS.”
The communication was immediately passed off to the Smithsonian Institution, where word fell within the earshot of Ascension Society proponents and additional members of the US Navy. A follow-up expedition — a rescue team led by Captain S. P. Matthews — was put together at once with the authorization of the Secretary of War.
Months later, after a congressional bill introduced to secure grant funding for arctic exploration — and thereby a rescue mission for Helgeland’s lost expedition — was successfully passed, the USS Greenwich departed from the San Francisco Naval Shipyard with a crew of thirty boatswains, medics, and deck officers among others.
What they would ultimately uncover puzzled them all.
---
“July 7, 1900. The team has fractured. We are without our provisions and without the morale that has served us thusly.
“Charles and I set upon the pursuit and capture of a walrus, a most strenuous task in the Arctic Circle. Furnished with a Winchester model .40-82, the sport skews in our favor but we are in no short supply of peril. These are one ton beasts with the strength of a hundred strongmen as they stave the ice, and yet it is not them I should have feared.
“’I can’t allow you to proceed further.’ I heard the click clack racket of the Winchester as Charles chambered a round and raised the rifle, training its twenty inch barrel toward my back after I had volunteered — quite ignorantly — to take the vanguard.
“’Charles?’ I managed between clattering teeth.
“’You’re a man of bold stature. An honorable man at that. But not honorable enough to die for. And that’s it, Henry. I will not die for you.’
“’You speak out of distress, not rationality.’
“’I’m as rational as one permits when I say we won’t all make it to Canada. You can’t expect us to sledge Edward for the next month and retain our strength. Our sanities.” I could hear him gulp, ‘our lives.’
“’You’re not who you say you are.’ I realized in that moment. ‘Not even an ensign would renounce his own crew. Who are you really, Charles?’
“His credentials were a farce; a clever scheme to scrape through the expedition’s vetting process. He was no navy-man nor expert nor navigator and if you piled his life’s accomplishments on top of one another, they’d be equal to that of a cretin.
“’Doesn’t matter any more, Henry.’
“’Then why haven’t you shot me?’
“I sensed beyond his terror a hint of reluctance and felt within him the trepidation of an amateur. The man had never wielded a firearm in his life and wouldn’t start hence.
“’In Your infinite mercy, hear my prayer. In Your boundless grace, grant me Your forgiveness,’ he muttered below his breath. I could’ve believed he’d have squeezed the trigger if not for the unexpected convulsion that suddenly brought him to his knees. Befallen by the strange attack, Charles unhanded the Winchester and collapsed to the ice in the midst of a crippling seizure. And in a matter of moments, he had succumbed to death.
“With some activated charcoal or perhaps an emetic, he could have eluded such a painful demise. I stepped over to look upon his body, his pupils dilated to the size of dimes. Reviewing the immediate symptoms, intuition tells me he’s become the latest victim of hemlock poisoning, the kind of amateur mistake I’d expect from someone such as Charles. Ideal timing, if I may speak candidly.
“Hope remains alive. I will ascend.”
---
Investigators with the crew of S. P. Matthews found everything except answers.
It took them all of three months to zero in on the campsite left behind by Helgeland’s expedition. Any prospect of finding the balloon itself was dropped by the wayside to preserve manpower and time.
The camp was discovered on the 79th parallel, not in any particular state of disarray but with enough evidence to suggest conflict had broken out between the members. Edward was discovered in a tent with the rest of the rations and a bullet hole stamped in the side of his head. There was no telling how long he’d been dead for.
Forty-five meters away from the camp, buried under a stalagmitic gathering of ice and snow, was the body of Charles Ringvold. A followup inquiry would prove my great grandfather’s claims that he was a fraud, but like Charles himself, the truth is buried deep under the surface. Edward and Charles are commemorated for their failed — albeit honorable — efforts in the face of great opposition.
The body of my great grandfather, however, was never found. Theories thus abound in the saga of Henry H. Helgeland and we are no more the wiser now than we were a century ago. He is remembered for murdering his men in cold blood, deserting them, and then yielding to the elements somewhere in the frozen hell of the arctic. The carrier-pigeon message sent by Charles corroborated the apparent facts.
But I know the truth. Because only I have the answers.
“July 8, 1900. All that remains is me, for everyone else has vanished. Edward and I regaled each other with stories of our mistresses as night fell upon our place in the arctic wasteland. Rebecca, Edward’s beloved, works as an expert seamstress in San Francisco and will no doubt be devastated when news of his fate reaches her. But the great memories they shared together, I assured him, will serve her well in the years to come.
“‘You shall be reunited at once,’ I whispered to him once more before executing the dying man with the Winchester. It is my turn to face whatever awaits me on the ice.
“My great anguish and sorrow have been mended.
“Ruth is calling to me now. Our son promptly requires our presence.
“I shall go to them."
The fruitless search for my great grandfather peaked at last with the unearthing of a path of footprints snaking away from the tent where Edward’s body lay. Investigators followed them for approximately ten meters before they abruptly ceased. Captain Matthews is quoted as saying: “it was as though the walker had simply floated away.”
And indeed, it was our family that won in the end, for my great grandfather received exactly what he wanted. The final, undated entry of his diary is comprised of but three simple words:
“I have ascended.”

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The quick information for you, as per the rules:
Species: cat
Age: approx. 7 years old
Sex/Neuter status: Male, neutered (2017) Breed: mixed, though we know he’s 50% ragdoll
Body weight: approx. 12 pounds
History: leg injury in 2017 (infection from cat bite, was treated with amoxicillin by vet, which caused GI issues/chronic diarrhea for a period of time)
Clinical signs: vomiting
Duration: approx. four weeks/has vomited four times over the past four weeks, two of those times in the past week
Hi, all! Thank you in advance for any advice or thoughts you can lend; I’m not sure if I’m overreacting (I’m a bit overprotective of the spoiled-rotten fluffball).
My cat has thrown up four times over the past month. The first time was shortly after I gave him his Bravecto dosage at the beginning of May. This isn’t a new prescription for him; he’s had it several times before (we were using Revolution but it didn’t seem to be working well, so I switched to Bravecto on advice of a vet). I put the vomiting that time down to the Bravecto, though I’m not sure if it’s a side effect of that or not.
Anyway, he vomited the second time about two weeks later. I thought at the time that maybe he’d drank too much water after eating and threw up, though I didn't actually witness it that time.
He vomited again last Thursday. That time, I actually witnessed it—he was sitting on my bed just after eating his nightly treats, and I managed to catch the vomit in the little bowl I give him his treats in. It looked like he’d puked up his treats, but there was also a yellowish liquid that I believe was stomach bile in the bowl with the chewed-up treats. I thought maybe the treats didn’t agree with him for some reason, so I stopped giving him the treats; he hasn’t had any since Thursday, which he has repeatedly expressed his displeasure about.
Today, he vomited again, and it was just like Thursday, except it was his cat food, rather than treats, and it was also in a yellowish, bile-like liquid.
This is unusual for him. He hasn’t had digestive issues since the issue caused by the antibiotics in 2017, for which my vet had given me some little powdery packets to add to his food that had probiotics in it. Shortly after that, I started giving him cat food that has probiotics in it—Purina Pro Plan Complete Essentials with Probiotics, which he’s been eating since 2018. The treats he’s been eating have been ones he’s had since 2018 too. Litter is still the same brand/type/etc., no changes there, and he seems to be using the litter box normally. There’s no urinating or defecating outside of the litter box, and his leavings in the box seem normal. In addition, his behavior is normal for him--he's already a pretty mellow, chill cat, but there hasn't been any noticeable increase in sleeping or lethargy or anything like that. He's still asking for treats and food. He's eating normal amounts of food, and he's still showing an interest in toys and playing when the mood strikes him.
I’m at a total loss what could be causing this. Is it possibly a hairball situation? He hasn’t chucked up a hairball since early last summer, and he’s a long-haired, fine-haired cat, and though I try to make sure I brush him every day or, at least, every other day, he recently had a “blowout” with his fur where he was dropping large clumps of it everywhere to a level I’ve never seen before with him. (Like, vacuum every day level.) I thought maybe he's got a hairball and is having trouble getting it to come up, but I haven't seen him doing any unproductive heaving or anything, at least not within my eyeshot.
Any advice/thoughts? Happy to answer any questions or clarify anything!

Tag the nlog subreddits see if I care
I made a male profile bc I wanted to see what women’s profiles were like.
Raw! Bruh if I had a shot for the amount of cat-mom, and dog-moms I passed on the rolodex I’d die. Then the “I need constant attention and affection 🥹 but I can cook”. Or the pick me “I like sports- lets grab a beer and watch a sport”
In my most honest, in my head, judgy opinions I was scrolling like …high maintenance… I’m not telling you not to put that much makeup on your face just watch a damn tutorial; practice it… how high energy are you? What’dya mean keep up with you? We racing?… I can see you arching your back to make your butt look bigger… I can see you squishing your boobs to make them look bigger… But go off about how your tired of fuckboys… Girl you’re 19, you don’t need a bra less pic to get matches don’t put those pictures up for these creeps… Is that supposed to be a smile? If your gonna make the same face in every picture why 5 pictures?.. “Make me laugh.” Is that a demand? Make you laugh? You look like you haven’t taken a shit in 5 years what on earth would make you laugh dearie?… No effort… No personality… “Don’t waste my time.” Not planning to ma’am.
I get it… let people live there lives with their shitty profiles. who am I to judge? But godamn.

Selling everything I’ve collected so far with regards to manga, light novels, and merch. Shipping is a flat $5 for media mail for purchases up to 8 volumes. Anything over 8 volumes will depend on volume count. I’m not looking to split the larger volume sets, but will sell the single volume, or volumes at the end. For example: With the collected volumes 1-10, I would not sell 4 or any single volume in the middle. I would sell volume 10 and any previous volume as long as it doesn’t create a gap.
Light Novel Images Manga Images Merch Images
- Most Merch items were photographed a long time ago. Here is the links showing the bulk items with the timestamp: Merch & Figures
Most items are new and never read and are in G5 quality. Death March & Vinland Saga are really the only items I ever read with most bein still in G4 to G5 minus any exception stated below.
I tried to price the items fairly and in accordance with my will to get rid of them, but I am open to offers. All of the Merch is free. I am planning to get rid of it by the end of the week if no one on this platform is interested in any of the items. If you are interested in the merch itself and not the LNs or manga's, the item is free minus shipping.
​

Light Novels	Volumes	Price	Damage
Bakemonogatari	1 - 3	$24
Kizumonogatari		$9
All Monogatari		$30
Death March in a Parallel World	1 - 9	$60	Volume 8 has water damaged pages
Didn't I Say to Make My Abilities Average in the Next Life?!	1	$8
Overlord	1 - 4	$45
The Rising of the Shield Hero	1 - 4	$30	Slight discoloration on volume 1's outer pages
Tokyo Ghoul: Days		$8
Tokyo Ghoul: Past		$8
Tokyo Ghoul: Void		$8
All Tokyo Ghoul		$20
Manga	Volumes	Price	Damage
A Silent Voice	Complete: 1 - 7	$50	Volume 5's cover has a creased corner
Battle Angel Alita	1	$7
Berserk	1: Shrink-wrapped	$9
Black Clover	1	$6
Death Trance	1	$6
Delicious in Dungeon	1	$9
Dojin Work: CE	1	$4
Final Fantasy Type-0		$7.5
Fire Force	1 - 5	$30
Gothic Sports	1	$5
In/Spectre	1 - 2	$13
K-ON! Kakifly	1	$5
Konosuba	1: Loot Crate Edition	$10
Land of the Lustrous	1	$7
Soul Eater	1: Loot Crate Edition	$10
Spice and Wolf	1	$8
Takeru	1 - 4	$20
The Girl from the Otherside	1	$8
The Seven Deadly Sins	1	$6
Tokyo Ghoul	1 - 9	$70
Tokyo Ghoul: RE	1 - 5	$40
Twin Signal	1	$5
Vinland Saga	1 - 6	$70
Yamada-Kun and the Seven Witches	1 - 15	$95

​
Merch: Free with purchase of any of the above listings.
Apparel -

• Black Clover Shirt - XL
• Blame! Shirt - XL
• Dead Man Wonderland Shirt - XL
• Deathnote Socks
• Pyshco-Pass Shirt - XL
• Robotech Beanie
• Steins Gate Shirt - XL
• Tri-Gun Shirt - XL
• Saint Seiya Hat

Figure -

• Astro Boy Light-Up Figure - Astro Boy
• Izuku Midoriya Figure - My Hero Academia
• Josuke Higashikata Figure - JoJo's
• Madoka Kaname Figure - Puella Magi Madoka Magica
• Saitama Mini's - One Punch Man
• Sasuke Figure - Naruto
• Shadow the Hedgehog Figure - Sonic
• Shiroyasya Figure - Gintama

Miscellaneous -

• Mini Plush Asuka Langley - Evangelion
• Ai Yori Aoshi ~Enishi~ - Soundtrack
• Gunparade March ~Spirit of the Samurai~ - Soundtrack
• Batman & The Justice League: Preview Edition by Shiori Teshirogi - I can remove as it is a comic book, but I figured it is permissible because its in the style of a manga plus was in an Anime Loot Crate.
• Mushi-Shi Tea Cups
• The Art of Yoshitaka Amano - Book
• Gurren Lagann Art Works
• Fruit Basket Sticker Collection
• Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid Paper Pad
• One Piece Cinch Bag
• Hawk Eraser - The Seven Deadly Sins
• Dragon Ball Z Unopened card pack
• Bungo Stray Dogs Wallet
• Food Wars! Soma Key Chain
• Skip Beat Kickstarter Chicken Key Chain
• Aria Kickstarter Mug Paper pad Art cards
• The Vision of Escaflowne Kickstarter Tarot Cards Necklace
• Knights of Sidonia Cell Phone Stand
• Anime Loot Crate Cell Phone Charm x 5
• Anime Loot Crate Pins x 4
• Food Wars! Soma Key Chain

Finally, I have most of the 2018 Newtype magazine from Japan that focuses on anime. Only missing January and Novembers edition.
​
If you have any questions regarding the items, feel free to reach out.

This subreddit will be joining in on the June 12th-14th protest of Reddit's API changes that will essentially kill all 3rd party Reddit apps.

What's going on?

A recent Reddit policy change threatens to kill many beloved third-party mobile apps, making a great many quality-of-life features not seen in the official mobile app permanently inaccessible to users.
On May 31, 2023, Reddit announced they were raising the price to make calls to their API from being free to a level that will kill every third party app on Reddit, from Apollo to Reddit is Fun to Narwhal to BaconReader.
Even if you're not a mobile user and don't use any of those apps, this is a step toward killing other ways of customizing Reddit, such as Reddit Enhancement Suite or the use of the old.reddit.com desktop interface .
This isn't only a problem on the user level: many subreddit moderators depend on tools only available outside the official app to keep their communities on-topic and spam-free.

What's the plan?

On June 12th, many subreddits will be going dark to protest this policy. Some will return after 48 hours: others will go away permanently unless the issue is adequately addressed, since many moderators aren't able to put in the work they do with the poor tools available through the official app. This isn't something any of us do lightly: we do what we do because we love Reddit, and we truly believe this change will make it impossible to keep doing what we love.
The two-day blackout isn't the goal, and it isn't the end. Should things reach the 14th with no sign of Reddit choosing to fix what they've broken, we'll use the community and buzz we've built between then and now as a tool for further action.

What can you do as a user?

• Complain. Message the mods of /reddit.com, who are the admins of the site: message reddit: submit a support request: comment in relevant threads on /reddit, such as this one, leave a negative review on their official iOS or Android app- and sign your username in support to this post.
  
• Spread the word. Rabble-rouse on related subreddits. Meme it up, make it spicy. Bitch about it to your cat. Suggest anyone you know who moderates a subreddit join the coordinated mod effort at /ModCoord.
  
• Boycott and spread the word...to Reddit's competition! Stay off Reddit entirely on June 12th through the 13th- instead, take to your favorite non-Reddit platform of choice and make some noise in support!
  
• Don't be a jerk. As upsetting this may be, threats, profanity and vandalism will be worse than useless in getting people on our side. Please make every effort to be as restrained, polite, reasonable and law-abiding as possible.
  

What can you do as a moderator?

• Join the coordinated effort over at /ModCoord
  
• Make a sticky post showing your support, A template has been created here you can use or modify to your liking, and be sure to crosspost it to /ModCoord.
  

Thank you for your patience in the matter,
-Mod Team

I park my car in the incredibly nice upper-middle class Huntington Beach neighborhood, just down the street from the ‘New Reality’ (editor's note: fake name) sober living I got kicked out of. I take a second to pull myself together while in the darkness. I’m starting to feel very weak, very frazzled. I’ve been awake for at least 60 hours straight now, and I’m well aware of that. It is 1AM. I can’t decide if I should get a hotel or not.
I am so weak. I need to eat. I need water. I need to sleep. My mouth tastes TERRIBLE – like I am decaying from the inside out. I need to shower. I am aware that I have many physical needs that go beyond my need for more drugs.
See how you feel after the next shot, Lonnie.
I text Kace:
Here
I pat my pockets, making sure I have two separate bags: a bag in my left pocket, which has my furanylfentanyl and clean syringes in it, and a bag in my right pocket, which has both their meth and their dilaudid pills in it. I do not want to sell them furanylfentanyl because I don’t want them to die in the sober living house that has already seen 2 overdoses because of it.
I get out of my car and lock it. I walk through the sprawling, meticulous Huntington Beach neighborhood full of spacious and decorous houses, heading towards the sober living, though I stay on the other side of the street. I walk past several houses, with perfect green lawns and perfect landscapes, walking past the sober living. I walk a few houses past it, and then cross the street. When I arrive on the other side of the street, I glance all around me, checking for surveillance.
I double back, heading towards the sober living. I cut into the side yard, heading for the side door that leads into the garage. It is already cracked open, just as we planned. I open the door just enough so that I am able to slide through. I see two phone lights on in the far corner of the big 3-car garage.
“Yo,” I whisper-yell in the direction of the phone lights. One of the lights starts moving in a circular motion, beckoning me closer. I walk up, moving as quietly as I can. It would be terrible if the house manager, Jack, came in here right now.
I pull out their bag of dilaudid and meth. I see a hand with money in it being held out in my direction. I take the money and replace it with their bag of drugs.
“Nice, thanks,” Kace whispers, as I count the money. It's right on. The phone lights move closer to the ground, so I move with them. I see 3 fresh bottles of water on the ground, just like I asked for. I pull out the bag of needles and hand each of them 2 clean needles, putting one on the ground for myself.
“You got the Q-tips,” I whisper, looking towards Kace. His hand is already outstretched, a Q tip in it. I open the water bottle and put the bottle cap on the floor, beginning to prepare my shot of furanylfentanyl as quietly as I can, while they break up their dilaudids. The phones are propped up on the floor, giving me an eerie feeling. I have seen this before.
Déjà vu hits, and something inside me works to flash me back to my horrible half-ounce psilocybin trip. I suppress the embodied, hellish memories and the feelings of absolute terror, doom, and panic by preparing the shot as fast as I can.
“Where are you going after this?” Kace whispers to me, while we all work. I don’t even know the third boy, I only know that his name is Shane, he is white, he came here from the east coast, he’s in his 20s, and that he came to the wrong place if he wants to survive and recover from his addiction.
“I might go get a hotel, depends on how I feel,” I whisper back.
“Well, take a piece of this, mix it in there, that’ll help,” Kace whispers, his hand outstretched with a shard of meth in it. Meth is Kace’s panacea. I hesitate for a second, only because I know that this meth came from Sloan, which means it came from Lucky, which means it is very clean and very, very strong.
A small amount added to my shot of furry would ensure that I could stay awake for a little while longer. Now that I am coming down from the 2-day cocaine binge and haven’t yet slept, I run the risk of passing out at any moment.
“Maybe I should, just to be on the safe side,” I whisper, before involuntarily watching my hand take the small shard of meth and add it to the bottle cap. I take pleasure in the fact that this is fresh water from a clean water bottle, a fresh cotton, a clean bottle cap, and drugs that I sourced myself and am familiar with.
Listen to you, Lonnie. This is your third day in a row, and now that you don’t have cocaine, you’re doing meth? You were chugging cough syrup, you went on a cocaine binge, now you’re doing some goddamn meth? The dirtiest, most disgusting drug on the planet? And you’re selling it to these poor kids, at their sober living? Shame on you.
I shake my head slightly, hoping to shut it up.
I push the limits in my preparation of the dose: adding meth to this shot enables me to add more furanylfentanyl than I normally would, since the meth will keep me awake and therefore alive. I look up from the phone light when I am done, and I am surprised to see somebody else is done prepping and has completed their injection before me.
“Whoa, god damn,” Shane whispers. I chuckle.
“He’s never done a dilaudid before,” Kace whispers. I can hear the smile on Kace’s face, even in the darkness. I don’t smile, for something terrible has happened on this night. Shane’s soul has been infected by another parasite, and I will burn in the deepest level of Hell for being the one that brought it to him.
“Can you light me up?” I ask. One of the phone lights turns towards me. I find a vein quickly and easily, though I am having to rotate injection sites constantly. I cap the needle when it’s done and lean back, putting my hands on the concrete floor of the garage behind me. I count mentally, and barely make it past 3.
Every cell that I consist of alights with the jolting electric euphoria of meth. My chest tightens with power and ecstasy. I feel electric light waves of raw energy emanating from my heart as my heart rate dramatically increases with feelings of excited arousal.
All weakness and negativity have disappeared from my body. I could fight a tiger right now. I should go play basketball right now. I’d be unstoppable. I’d win every game. Nobody else would even have a chance.
“Fuck, I hate meth,” I whisper, overly alert, my heart racing in my ears. Now it feels like the house manager will open the door any second. Police are certainly watching us. My heart races in nonstop anticipation; I can feel my heartbeat in my trembling hands. Only the massive shot of furry I did can prevent the paranoia from causing me to panic. I take solace in the sensations of peace and relaxation that underlie the meth high. My lady, the Opioid - even though She is the cold, robotic Miss Furryfent, She is with me. I have nothing to fear.
“Nobody hates meth,” Kace whispers.
“It’s too good. It makes me feel too powerful. It makes me feel crazy,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s awesome,” Shane whispers, as we watch Kace inject himself. There are a few seconds of silence, all of us waiting for Kace to get his rush.
“Shit, that dilaudid gives you a good rush. I forgot how good it is,” Kace whispers.
“I know,” I whisper back, before standing up. I walk to the exit, loath to be physically alone again, even though I feel lonely all the time. I wish I didn’t have to leave, but I know that this is another place that I am not welcome. The world is shrinking around me by the day. I am wearing out my welcome at the few places I am still allowed to go.
I need to go back to another treatment center, but life feels hopeless. More talk therapy, more 12-step meetings, more jail-rehabs, more vacation-rehabs – none of it has worked for me, and more of the same thing won’t help me. I am so hooked on these drugs; the drugs are a torrent, and every method of treatment is like a two-by-four piece of wood laying in the way. These drugs have my soul. Death is closing in on me.
“Thanks for coming out here. Be safe, brother,” Kace whispers, before closing the door behind me. I hear it lock, which hurts my feelings, even though I don’t blame him for locking me out. I’d lock me out, too.
I step out into a warm summer California night – back into a world that I don’t belong in; back into a world that doesn't want me.
Where are you going to go, Lonnie?
Not here. Anywhere but here. I start walking, and then start jogging across the street. Surprisingly, I feel no pain in my ankles at all. Jogging feels good. I make it across the street, and then keep jogging.
I jog up to my car. I open the door and get in it. I sit for a second. I check in on my body.
I feel amazing. I could run 3 miles right now. I feel great. I should keep moving.
I check in with my stomach. Although I couldn’t be less hungry, I know I need to consume some nutrients, even if they’re just liquid. I've been injecting cocaine continuously; I haven’t eaten a solid meal or slept in days.
I know what to do. I put my drugs and paraphernalia in the center console of my car. I get out of the car with only my phone, wallet, and keys in my pockets. I lock the car, checking it twice so it registers in my meth-addled brain, which is often riddled with unreasonable paranoia, that it is locked, and nobody can steal my drugs.
I start to walk away from my car, then stop mid-step. What if Kace or one of those guys comes looking for my car, knowing that it is full of drugs?
I am frozen with indecision. I notice I am licking my lips with overstimulation and force myself to stop my tongue. My heart is racing. I’m shaking with excitation. My brain is screaming at my body to do something, but I don't know what to do. They will certainly come looking for my car, hungry for more drugs.
You're being ridiculous, Lonnie. Nobody is going to steal your drugs.
I tell my feet to move. They won't move. I feel the urge to scream. I have to get away from here, I have to do something.
I start to jog again. I can get a quick workout in and get my brain to shut up at the same time. I start to jog, doing the old breathing trick I did when I was a kid trying to run the fastest 1-mile time in gym class.
I focus on my breath, to which I apply a specific breathing pattern. In, in, out. I jog, and I breathe. I jog, and then I jog faster, and my breathing sharpens – and then I jog even faster. I jog out of the neighborhood and onto the main road that connects these huge, gorgeous housing developments in Huntington Beach. I jog in the direction of a gas station that I know is just down the street from me.
I jog, and my mind turns to college basketball. I visualize myself playing in my mind, shooting 3-pointers and knowing that they’re in the hoop as soon as they leave my hand. I shoot a few more 3-pointers in my mind before losing myself completely.
The big, bright, lights, the smell of the hardwood, the sound of the ball bouncing on the floor and echoing off of every wall. The sound of solitude, and hard work, and everything that is good in life. The sound of the ball hitting nothing but net. Watching the net flip up after a perfect swish. I take myself back to some of my favorite moments playing basketball: back to Frederick, Maryland, where I scored 16 points on an overseas professional in a competitive men’s league game.
Back to West Palm Beach, Florida, where I got invited to try out for the semi-pro ABA team, the Miami Storm.
Back to Atlanta, GA, where I got made fun for doing ball handling drills with a tennis ball and then picked last, only to lead my team to victory several times in a row, scoring almost all of our points, winning in silence.
Showing up day in and day out, scoring and shooting and winning. Even when I was losing, I was getting better, so I was winning.
I press onward, jogging harder. I am going to play college basketball. Nothing is going to stop me. I notice that my shirt, which is drenched in sweat, is sticking to my skin. I peel my shirt off, barely slowing my pace. I glance up and to my right. There is a brown apartment complex. I throw my shirt in one of the bushes, making a mental note to get it out of the bush on my way back, certain that I’ll remember exactly how it landed in the bushes and precisely where it is.
I start to jog again, pretending that I have a basketball. I cross the invisible ball back and forth on the sidewalk, going out of my way to cross bushes up, crossing the imaginary ball hard and then going straight into a spin move. I lose myself in the movements. Thoughts cease, and there is nothing but my instinct telling me which dribble move to pantomime next against invisible defenders.
I stop. Why am I even going to the gas station? I should just get my car, go to 24-hour fitness, and play basketball for real. I turn around and start the journey back the way I came. I continue to run and do fake basketball moves on the shadow people. Finally, I find myself back in the residential neighborhood of Huntington Beach that my car is in.
I look around again. Is this the right neighborhood? Where am I? I walk around, looking for a landmark or something that I recognize.
There was something I was supposed to remember.
That’s right, I have to get to work. I need to find my car.
A white truck pulls up in the street next to me and stops.
That’s right, there’s a white truck coming to pick me up and take me to work! I walk up to the white truck, which has stopped in the middle of the road. Though the windows are tinted, I know that Todd is in this truck, and that he is here to pick me up to take me to Cinepolis for work. I pull on the passenger side door handle of the truck, so I can get in and go to work. The handle slips out of my hand when the door doesn’t pop open. The truck starts to drive away.
Why would Todd do that to me?! I look up at the sky. The sun is coming up? Shit, I’m going to be late for work now! I jog away from the truck. I need to go back to Todd’s house. I jog up to Todd’s house, which is the brown house right down the street. I walk up to the door and twist the doorknob. It doesn’t open.
Of course, it didn’t open, dumbass. Todd went to work.
I jog away. How am I going to get to work? I jog some more and start to feel sick.
Where am I?
“HEY! You left your stuff, like, way back there!” a random lady yells at me. I look at her, and then around at my surroundings. I don’t know where I am.
“What?” I yell back at her.
“You took your shorts off and left your stuff, like, way back there. I’ve been watching you. I think you should go home!” she yells, from across the street. I reach for my pockets.
I look down at my lower half. I have no shorts on. I am wearing nothing but black Nike compression underpants and basketball shoes. Realization strikes me like a thunderbolt: I have been running around in a state of meth-induced delusion for the entire night, playing with an invisible basketball.
I jog across the street, over to the lady.
“I’m sorry. I had a little too much to drink last night. Do you mind showing me where I left my stuff?” I ask, evaluating the woman. She is in her 40’s or 50’s, with long dark hair and a kind face. She has a small dog with her. He looks like a mutt.
“I figured. I was walking my dog, and saw you take your shorts off. I wanted to stop you when you tried to get in the truck, but I thought maybe you knew them. Then you tried to get in that house. You seemed very confused and out of it. Your pants are back this way,” she says, walking her dog down the sidewalk, back the way I came.
“Thanks,” I say, too embarrassed and ashamed to say much else. The sun is up. I try to walk naturally, like I am wearing pants instead of not wearing pants, which is a difficult thing to do. She leads me several minutes down the sidewalk, to somebody’s front yard. I see my shorts sitting in the grass in somebody’s yard, right by the sidewalk. I grab my shorts and put them on. My wallet and my phone are still in the pockets.
My keys. Shit, where are my keys?
“Do you know where my keys are?” I ask the woman, too embarrassed to look her in the eyes.
“No. I saw you take off your shorts here. I’ve been watching you, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. I wouldn’t be surprised if police are on their way,” she says, her eyebrows raised at me knowingly.
“Ok. Well, thanks for your help. I’m going to go. My house is in the neighborhood over there,” I lie, pointing further away from her and walking away. The word “police” forces me into action. I powerwalk until she is out of sight, and then I start to jog again.
Jog faster, Lonnie. Train harder.
No. I have to slow down. I’m becoming psychotic from overexertion, lack of nutrition, sleep deprivation, and methamphetamine. I have no drugs on me. I can slow down.
I force myself to start walking. I become aware, again, of my racing heart. It has been beating like this for days on end. It could easily explode and kill me at any second. Wait, when was the last time I did any opioids? The furanylfentanyl has been making me dopesick within 6 hours. I search my body for opioid effects. There are none.
I’m in the no man’s land between the opioid high and the withdrawal where I actually feel normal. The more I binge, the shorter the breaks become, and I’ve been binging, hard. If I feel normal now, that means I’ll be dopesick any second. I whine out loud. I want to scream up at the sky. My stomach starts to hurt terribly – it feels like it is bleeding.
I am dying.
I open my phone’s GPS and set it to my old sober living.
Shit, I don’t have a car key. I can’t get into my car! I call a locksmith, and then I start to run back towards the ironically named ‘sober living.’
I attempt to cling to reality.
My name is Lonnie. I am in Huntington Beach. I am going to Jack’s sober living, so I can do some fentanyl, so I don’t get dopesick. I did some meth, and I haven’t slept or ate in days, so I might hallucinate. Hallucinations aren’t real.
My name is Lonnie. I am in Huntington beach. I went to Florida for rehab for sniffing oxy, and I started to shoot dope. I came to California to stop shooting dope and picked up a meth habit.
STOP!
My name is Lonnie. The world would be better off if I were dead.
I start to walk. I can’t take this. I need some music. No, playing music would be suspicious. I start to jog again, trying not to think about my racing heart. I should focus on my breathing.
No, I can’t do that. That’s what made me go psychotic.
My name is Lonnie. I am going back to Jack’s sober living…

​
https://preview.redd.it/xbbmvwk05y2b1.jpg?width=1280&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=116c1a4c80219604524cc4a321c8086cdb93a5a7
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Hello everyone. My 3 year old acer nitro 5 with an rtx 2060 and i7 9750h just had the cpu brick itself outside of warranty.
What brands have the best warranty support for their laptops? I have a microcenter local to me now but plan on moving quite far away from one for college.
I’ve heard really great things about Alienware’s premium warranty support. I like the Alienware M18 models because I prefer the bigger screen and don’t care about weight, but I am kind of worried about the inverted motherboards on those models. Is undervolting possible on these models with throttle stop? I would also be fine making changes through AWCC.
Not really interested in asus with the recent shenanigans with bios warranty voiding.
How good are Lenovo warranties for something like a legion pro 7i?
Also, would repeating and upgrading ram and storage void warranties on either of these devices?

Cliffs/actual question: I can order YTTV+Sports Plus(RZ)+Sunday Ticket and outside of the primary home on Sundays watch Red Zone via YTTV/Sports Plus on 1 TV, and still have 2 Sunday Ticket streams to use outside of the home (on my 2nd TV)
​
Long Version: I currently pay for Spectrum TV for my dad 75 miles away. Problem is the app is trash and they lock the account/password all the time and is damn near unusable for him. I'm planning to change to paying for YTTV for him. He will only watch 1 device at a time. I'm assuming his name/location will be the primary acct/home location for the account to not have any issues on his end ever. I previously used his login to watch RedZone on one TV at my home, and my Sunday Ticket on the other(s)
I'm wanting Sunday Ticket for me. I'm assuming with him being the primary home, if I added Sunday Ticket to his YTTV I account (I pay for), I'd be limited to 2 Sunday Ticket streams at my house. I'm only asking because you can get $100 off by adding YTTV and ST together on the same account. On Sundays I have RZ on one TV, and Sunday Ticket quad box on the other.
I suppose I could get YTTV+Sports Plus (for RZ)+Sunday Ticket all on his account, watch RZ on one TV through YTTV, and then have 2 "outside of the home" streams for Sunday Ticket here. 1 for the quad box and 1 extra if I add another TV or iPad. Usually the 3rd screen I used on Sundays was for a big game that was local/blacked out on Sunday Ticket. I sold the iPad I used for this anyway so I may not even need the 2nd stream. Anyway, I'll stop rambling.
Thanks for the help!!!!!

You've armed yourself with a VPN to guard your online exploits, making your browsing, streaming, and torrenting more elusive than Bigfoot himself. Thanks to your VPN's Fort Knox-level encryption, network overlords and ISPs are left scratching their heads, unable to spot which corners of the web you've been poking around in or what files you've been downloading. But there's one problem - they can still sense your VPN, like an invisible yet palpable phantom in the room. Lucky for us, there are several methods in the vault to make a VPN as undetectable as a needle in a haystack.
Scanning through the swathes of online advice on rendering your VPN undetectable is a bit like diving into a murky sea of misinformation, half-truths, and wild guesses. So, armed with a spirit of relentless curiosity, I donned my digital Sherlock Holmes hat and set out on a weeks-long fact-finding mission. My tools? Piles of articles, guides, and VPN support articles, numerous conversations with VPN customer service detectives, my personal expertise and experience, and multiple rounds of good ol' fashioned testing.
The result? This guide. Consider it a condensed field guide to making your VPN connection as elusive as a chameleon (well, to some extent). And because we're not half-baking things here, I've also included my personal recommendations for the top-tier VPNs that can deftly sidestep VPN detection and blockade like a pro.
The Art of Invisible VPNing: A Guide to the Why
Why would you want to render your VPN invisible, you might ask? Well, as much as I admire transparency, in the realm of VPNs, stealth pays off. Here's why.
In the case of a VPN block party - nations like China, Iran, and Indonesia have often been known to use their cutting-edge technology prowess to sniff out and thwart VPN connections. Even educational institutions and workplaces sometimes employ firewalls as bouncers, keeping VPNs at bay.
Secondly, who doesn't love a good streaming spree? Unfortunately, streaming sites often act like a suspicious bouncer, routinely rooting out and blocking VPN connections due to licensing red tape. But if you can make your VPN connection as invisible as a ghost, you could swan dive into your favorite shows from anywhere with a VPN.
Lastly, it's all about privacy, isn't it? Although your VPN's encryption acts like a cloak of invisibility, preventing your ISP from seeing your digital shenanigans, your ISP can still sense the presence of a VPN. Also, websites can sometimes recognize VPN IP addresses. In the name of privacy, some folks just prefer not to broadcast to their ISPs or visited sites that they're employing a VPN. After all, a good magician never reveals his secrets.
An Invisible Surfing Spree: Selecting the Right VPN
The most straightforward path around those pesky VPN detection dogs and firewall barricades is to employ a VPN that's adept at playing hide and seek. What you're really looking for is a VPN that changes its IP address as often as a chameleon changes color, expertly cloaks its VPN traffic, and offers an impressive suite of security and privacy features.
After sending several VPNs through a gauntlet of tests, I came to the conclusion that ExpressVPN should be your first port of call if you want to cruise the internet undetected — here's the evidence:
The master of disguise, ExpressVPN, seems to have a revolving door for IP addresses. During my test-run of its New York server, I noticed a different IP address each time, as if I was flipping through a book of random digits. The prowess of ExpressVPN is further demonstrated by its ability to grant you access to top-tier streaming platforms and its seamless operation even in countries with internet restrictions tighter than a tick.
Also, it supports Tor over VPN connections, adding another layer of camouflage to your VPN's IP address.
Your data and privacy are guarded like crown jewels with its no-logs policy and a suite of advanced security features, including robust leak protection, all backed up by audits.
Shuffling the Deck: Switching Your VPN’s IP Address
When a streaming giant or network sleuth has put your VPN's IP address on the blacklist, you'll need to give your VPN server's IP a makeover to sidestep this little roadblock. The most straightforward approach? Simply reconnect to the VPN server or waltz over to a different VPN server.
Certain VPNs come with in-built tools that permit you to shuffle the server's IP address like a deck of cards. Others, with a flair for automation, do the reshuffling for you — unobtrusively changing the IP address while you're sailing through the VPN server, akin to a magician who never reveals his tricks. Take VyprVPN for example, it has a trick up its sleeve known as the Chameleon protocol. This obfuscation tool is a master of disguise, seamlessly changing your IP address mid-journey without as much as a hiccup in your VPN connection.
Musical Chairs: Juggling Your VPN Protocol
Sometimes, in a land of restrictions and watchful network overseers, certain VPN protocols can be halted in their tracks if the ports they love to party in are shut down. They can also be outed and barred by a savvy bouncer known as Deep Packet Inspection (DPI). Your ticket out of this restrictive soiree is a simple protocol switcheroo.
If you find yourself grappling with port blocks, OpenVPN or WireGuard could be your new best pals. Should their default stomping grounds be barred, you can manually shepherd them to a different port — a tour WireGuard is prepared for with thousands of options, and OpenVPN is not far behind. Some VIPs on the VPN scene, such as ExpressVPN and PrivateVPN, have taken it a step further. They've programmed these protocols to play nice with ports that are hard to put in lockdown, saving you the hassle of handpicking a port. Quite the lifesaver if you're new to the shindig.
Playing Hide-and-Seek with Your VPN
Obfuscation, or as I like to call it, the "VPN invisibility cloak", wraps your VPN traffic in an extra layer of encryption, making it appear as unassuming as your run-of-the-mill internet traffic. It's your best defense against the ever-probing eye of DPI detection and blockade.
While a fair share of VPNs come with access to protocols that are masters of disguise, a select few have a built-in obfuscation feature that doesn't require them to borrow from the protocols they use. TunnelBear, for example, has its GhostBear feature, and PrivateVPN boasts StealthVPN. Activate these tools, and your VPN data magically transforms into regular, everyday internet traffic. Abracadabra, your online activities have just pulled a Houdini!
Opening the 443 Doorway: A Sneak into Internet Autobahn
If VPN-related ports seem like they are sealed tighter than a sous-vide bag, it's high time you make a run for TCP port 443. This magical portal is the very same used by HTTPS traffic, which pretty much is the main freeway for most of our internet travels. If an ISP or network overlord dared to barricade this gateway, they might as well bid adieu to all websites that use HTTPS – say, those tiny, irrelevant sites like Facebook, Google, Twitter, and YouTube. Imagine the uproar!
However, this precious TCP port 443 is only compatible with a select few VPN protocols:
OpenVPN, the people's champion of protocols for its robust security, is one of them. Some VPN providers like Private Internet Access let you pick TCP port 443 when you’re feeling the OpenVPN groove. Others, like ExpressVPN, streamline the process, automatically pairing OpenVPN with TCP port 443.
SSTP, a protocol not as widely embraced, uses TCP port 443 by default. But it's hard to find, tucked away in the menus of only a few VPN providers like IPVanish.
Then, there's SoftEther. This protocol is like the unicorn of VPN services - you hear of it, but you barely see it, primarily because it's as tricky to integrate into the VPN client as untangling your headphones after they've been in your pocket.
The High-Roller IP: A Reserved Seat in the VPN Concert
In the world of VPNs, shared IP addresses are the norm, akin to the nosebleed section in a concert - you share the space (or IP in our case) with a gaggle of other VPN users. But what if you fancied a front-row experience? Enter: the dedicated IP address. This VIP seat, exclusive to you, ensures that you don't share the IP spotlight with anyone else. It's like renting your own private island in the vast VPN sea.
Should you opt for a dedicated IP, streaming sites might struggle to detect your VPN connection. Picture this: instead of identifying a mob of 100+ people logging in from the same IP address (quite the red flag for shared IPs), websites would witness only a lone user logging in. Less conspicuous, less likely to be flagged and blocked.
If a dedicated IP address whets your appetite, Private Internet Access and CyberGhost VPN are solid options. They both roll out the red carpet of dedicated IPs for a nominal additional fee. For those of you scrimping, PrivateVPN is a sensible choice, providing free access to dedicated IP addresses.
Moreover, some VPNs, such as TorGuard, even offer dedicated residential IP addresses, the crème de la crème of detectability. These IPs belong to residential ISPs rather than data centers, making them appear as regular internet users to anyone scrutinizing these IPs. However, fair warning, TorGuard’s VPN plans tend to be on the pricier side. It's akin to paying for box seats at the opera, not exactly penny-pinching.
The Tor-tuous Trail: A VPN Voyage to the Dark Side
Tor, a cloak-and-dagger network that grants passage to the infamous dark web, is like a secret labyrinth. It leads your traffic through multiple servers, engaging in some digital masquerade, frequently changing your IP and encrypting your traffic repeatedly. The best part? It’s like a secret society with no membership fee. Simply download and install the Tor browser and you have a ticket to the Tor network.
Here's a trick up the sleeve: you can snake a Tor connection through a VPN connection. This nifty move ensures internet and dark web hotspots are none the wiser about your VPN IP address. The VPN connection, draped in several layers of Tor encryption, would be harder to detect than a chameleon on a Jackson Pollock painting. In essence, your connection path looks a bit like this:
You, then VPN, then Tor Server #1, Tor Server #2, Tor Server #3, and finally, the Dark Web.
Several top-shelf VPNs support the Tor over VPN connection, with ExpressVPN garnering my personal favor due to its impressively quick speeds. Because let's face it, Tor over VPN connections often move at the pace of a snail riding a turtle. Proton VPN also deserves an honorable mention, boasting servers in 7 countries that automatically route your traffic through the Tor network. This unique setup lets you access dark web sites with pedestrian browsers like Chrome and Firefox — no need to whip out the Tor browser.
Playing Hooky with your VPN: A Cellular Strategy
You know how workplaces and institutions of learning morph into fun sponges with their stringent anti-VPN rules on their networks? And getting caught using one can earn you an unceremonious trip to the principal's office or worse.
In such a tricky situation, it's time to tap into the untamed frontier of mobile data. By flipping the switch to your cellular data, you're using the network of your telecommunications provider instead of the school or company's network. It's like swapping the 'schooled' network's version of domesticated, house-trained internet for the wild, VPN-friendly terrain of mobile data.

https://www.lenovo.com/us/en/p/desktops/legion-desktops/legion-t-series-towers/-legion-tower-5i-gen-8-(26l,-intel)/90ut000dus

• i7-13700F
• RTX 3060 Ti
• 16 GB DDR5 @ 5600 mhz
• 1 TB PCIe Gen4 SSD
• Air cooled

Usage: lots of browsing, coding, data science, ML.

1. It comes with Windows, but I plan to install Linux. How many issues can I expect to have? Will there be any performance degradation when running Linux?
   
2. I'd like to upgrade to 64 GB @ 5600 mhz right away. The PSREF says that 64 GB @ 5600 mhz is supported. It says that there are "Four DDR5 UDIMM slots, dual-channel capable". Crucial offers 16 GB cards @ 5600 mhz and 32 GB cards @ 5200 mhz. If I buy 4 of the former I get 64 GB @ 5600 mhz and if I buy 4 of the latter I get 128 GB @ 5200 mhz. And I can change the RAM speed in the BIOS. Is my understanding correct?
   
3. How noisy will this get? Does it get noisy even during browsing etc.? I had first considered this Legion laptop but turned away from it because I'd read that the fans get noisy. I started looking at desktops instead because I believed that a desktop would have a better cooling system due to more space. Is my understanding correct?
   

I am new-ish to woodworking, and very new to using wood dyes - I have always used wood stains.
My father-in-law, who is a pro at woodworking, told me I should use TransTint dyes with some of my items. So I bought eight different colors - Reddish Brown, Dark Vintage Maple, Golden Brown, Black, Brown Mahogany, Dark Mission Brown, Coffee Brown, and Honey Amber.
It should be noted that I primarily use Baltic Birch.
Tonight I tried out the TransTint dyes for the first time - using alcohol and paper towels. I did the right measurements stated on the TransTint site (16 drops to 1 oz) and did two coats of the dye. Only thing I did to the wood before applying the dye was sand it. I applied 2 coats of each color.
Some of the colors came out correctly - the Reddish Brown, Golden Brown, Honey Amber, and Black. The Brown Mahogany is okay and I assume will look better with a top coat of poly. However, the Dark Mission Brown, Dark Vintage Maple and Coffee Brown both look absolutely terrible. The Dark Mission Brown looks like something I have seen in my daughter's diaper - definitely not brown like on their site, the Dark Vintage Maple looks more yellow than the orange-ish brown color, and the coffee brown looks purple.
Here is what it looks like
Tomorrow I am planning on using the spray method - which is what I will be doing normally to my pieces. But is there anything I should be doing differently to help bring out the actual colors?

The Grandscape development is already huge with a Scheels sporting goods store, Nebraska Furniture Mart, open air plazas, restaurants and bars, an observation wheel, and apartment space. Office towers and hotels are either already built or planned for the near future. However, a museum should also be built to enhance revenue and business at the development and bring in more tourism. Potential operators include the Nasher, Perot, and Meadows as they could potentially open a branch at the Grandscape.

Hello everyone. My 3 year old acer nitro 5 with an rtx 2060 and i7 9750h just had the cpu brick itself outside of warranty.
What brands have the best warranty support for their laptops? I have a micro center local to me now but plan on moving quite far away from one for college.
I’ve heard really great things about Alienware’s premium warranty support. I like the Alienware M18 models because I prefer the bigger screen and don’t care about weight, but I am kind of worried about the inverted motherboards on those models. Is undervolting possible on these models with throttle stop?
Not really interested in asus with the recent shenanigans with bios warranty voiding.
How good are Lenovo warranties for something like a legion pro 7i?
Also, would repeating and upgrading ram and storage void warranties on either of these devices?

https://www.lenovo.com/us/en/p/desktops/legion-desktops/legion-t-series-towers/-legion-tower-5i-gen-8-(26l,-intel)/90ut000dus

• i7-13700F
• RTX 3060 Ti
• 16 GB DDR5 @ 5600 mhz
• 1 TB PCIe Gen4 SSD
• Air cooled

Usage: lots of browsing, coding, data science, ML.

1. It comes with Windows, but I plan to install Linux. How many issues can I expect to have? Will there be any performance degradation when running Linux?
   
2. I'd like to upgrade to 64 GB @ 5600 mhz right away. The PSREF says that 64 GB @ 5600 mhz is supported. It says that there are "Four DDR5 UDIMM slots, dual-channel capable". Crucial offers 16 GB cards @ 5600 mhz and 32 GB cards @ 5200 mhz. If I buy 4 of the former I get 64 GB @ 5600 mhz and if I buy 4 of the latter I get 128 GB @ 5200 mhz. And I can change the RAM speed in the BIOS. Is my understanding correct?
   
3. How noisy will this get? Does it get noisy even during browsing etc.? I had first considered this Legion laptop but turned away from it because I'd read that the fans get noisy. I started looking at desktops instead because I believed that a desktop would have a better cooling system due to more space. Is my understanding correct?