Plastic grids for gravel driveways

Good day,
Been eyeing on this bike (Merida Speeder 300 2023) to replace my 29er MTB (Pinewood Franklin GT.
Will it be practical to buy the Merida bike compared to just upgrading my current bike to straigth Deore setup + Rigid fork + gravel wheelset?
To add, I've been using my Frankie (name of my MTB 🤣) for 2 years already with a recorded 1000km odo and other unrecorded rides when I was biking to work so I think it is justifiable for some upgrade.
All insights are appreciated. Thank you!

My brother is 6 years old. I am 28. To make things as simple as possible, my parents suck. Like, they really, really suck. Last January, I had just started my last semester of nursing school. One day I was walking out to my truck to go to class, and DSS is in the driveway. They tell me that my brother is going into foster care tomorrow and I’m the only option left, so they wanted to ask me before they proceeded. I didn’t even know my brother had been taken or anything that had been going on. Again, my parents suck and I had blocked them and shut off all contact for a while. Apparently, 2 months prior, my brother’s mom had another baby that was born in withdrawal from meth, benzos, and suboxone. My dad also failed for meth and benzos. Unfortunately, the baby died. My brother was also removed that day. He had went to another family member initially, but she could not handle him and there was no other family members that could pass a drug test. Except me.
I decided to take him. They warned me. He’s violent, his behaviors are horrible, he has killed animals. I took him any way. I hadn’t saw my brother much in the last couple of years, but I decided to give it a shot.
It was a night mare. He was 5 and had been expelled from kindergarten twice. I tried to enroll him in kindergarten at a different school, but he couldn’t function a day without hitting, cussing, destroying class rooms, throwing stuff. One day, his kindergarten teacher had to evacuate the classroom because he was destroying it. I had to put him in a school for “children who can’t function in public school”. He went there for 9 months.
He hit me. Kicked me. Spit on me. Screamed at me. Actively defied me and laughed about it. I had to repotty train him. He had been having accidents prior to coming to me. I filed an investigation for sexual assault, which I 100% know he was, but “no evidence, blah blah”. I started him in therapy. He has ODD, ADHD, RAD, and PTSD. I had to leave class every day to pick him up. I was scared I was going to fail, but somehow I didn’t. I got a job in the emergency department, and had to leave a lot to pick him up. Scared I was going to get fired. But didn’t. I tried everything. I cried and prayed more than I ever have. I read 100 different parenting books. I went to therapy for myself because it was so much and I felt like my 2 children weren’t getting any of the attention they deserved because what little I had to pour I poured into him. I started going to therapy with him weekly. One day I went to the court house to relinquish my custodial rights. I just couldn’t take it anymore.
2 days later I took it back and kept telling myself “don’t give up. Be who you needed”.
My brother hasn’t had any accidents in a year. He hasn’t harmed any animals. He had to repeat kindergarten, but he has repeated it in public school and I haven’t had to pick him up in over 6 months. He can now count to 100 when before he couldn’t even recognize the numbers between 1 and 10. He can read when before he couldn’t even recognize any letters of the alphabet. He says please and thank you and listens when he is told to do something or to stop doing something. He doesn’t kick or hit or bite or scream. And just last week he walked across the stage as a kindergarten graduate.
A day I often wondered would even be possible.
I believe my brother, my son, is going to grow up and do very big things.
I’m glad I didn’t give up.
I’m glad I could be who I needed.

My brother is 6 years old. I am 28. To make things as simple as possible, my parents suck. Like, they really, really suck. Last January, I had just started my last semester of nursing school. One day I was walking out to my truck to go to class, and DSS is in the driveway. They tell me that my brother is going into foster care tomorrow and I’m the only option left, so they wanted to ask me before they proceeded. I didn’t even know my brother had been taken or anything that had been going on. Again, my parents suck and I had blocked them and shut off all contact for a while. Apparently, 2 months prior, my brother’s mom had another baby that was born in withdrawal from meth, benzos, and suboxone. My dad also failed for meth and benzos. Unfortunately, the baby died. My brother was also removed that day. He had went to another family member initially, but she could not handle him and there was no other family members that could pass a drug test. Except me.
I decided to take him. They warned me. He’s violent, his behaviors are horrible, he has killed animals. I took him any way. I hadn’t saw my brother much in the last couple of years, but I decided to give it a shot.
It was a night mare. He was 5 and had been expelled from kindergarten twice. I tried to enroll him in kindergarten at a different school, but he couldn’t function a day without hitting, cussing, destroying class rooms, throwing stuff. One day, his kindergarten teacher had to evacuate the classroom because he was destroying it. I had to put him in a school for “children who can’t function in public school”. He went there for 9 months.
He hit me. Kicked me. Spit on me. Screamed at me. Actively defied me and laughed about it. I had to repotty train him. He had been having accidents prior to coming to me. I filed an investigation for sexual assault, which I 100% know he was, but “no evidence, blah blah”. I started him in therapy. He has ODD, ADHD, RAD, and PTSD. I had to leave class every day to pick him up. I was scared I was going to fail, but somehow I didn’t. I got a job in the emergency department, and had to leave a lot to pick him up. Scared I was going to get fired. But didn’t. I tried everything. I cried and prayed more than I ever have. I read 100 different parenting books. I went to therapy for myself because it was so much and I felt like my 2 children weren’t getting any of the attention they deserved because what little I had to pour I poured into him. I started going to therapy with him weekly. One day I went to the court house to relinquish my custodial rights. I just couldn’t take it anymore.
2 days later I took it back and kept telling myself “don’t give up. Be who you needed”.
My brother hasn’t had any accidents in a year. He hasn’t harmed any animals. He had to repeat kindergarten, but he has repeated it in public school and I haven’t had to pick him up in over 6 months. He can now count to 100 when before he couldn’t even recognize the numbers between 1 and 10. He can read when before he couldn’t even recognize any letters of the alphabet. He says please and thank you and listens when he is told to do something or to stop doing something. He doesn’t kick or hit or bite or scream. And just last week he walked across the stage as a kindergarten graduate.
A day I often wondered would even be possible.
I believe my brother, my son, is going to grow up and do very big things.
I’m glad I didn’t give up.
I’m glad I could be who I needed.

Have you ever had the experience of swearing you saw something at the edge of your vision, peering at you from around a corner before? I’m fairly sure a good chunk of people have, maybe even you reading this right now. Regardless of whether you’re in a crowded area such as a mall or school, or home by yourself, you’ve more than likely had that strange sensation of being watched, usually accompanied by a slight shiver down your spine. You’ll snap your head up from whatever it is you’re doing, or whoever you’re talking to. And nothing will be there. But, you always swear that, at the very edge of your vision, you saw something. A slight blur, as if something was there, but seemed to anticipate your move, and pulled back out of sight. I’m fairly certain most of you just end up shaking it off. You shake your head, telling yourself that nothing was there, and go back to what you were doing.
That’s a good thing. Because it’s what keeps you safe. It’s what keeps you alive.
Like many of you, for years, I always wrote seeing the slight blur at the edge of my sight off as a trick of my eyes. “Being so focused on one particular area that the rest of your vision goes fuzzy” as my mother once told me when I, as a child, told her I’d seen something at the doorway to my bedroom. And as I grew older, I simply took it as fact, the way every child takes their parent’s wisdom to heart. And once I became an adult, I simply waved it away completely.
That was, until one night.
You see, as a thirty-something year old bachelor who makes just above the line of adequate pay, I live by myself in a small, one bedroom apartment. It means having to live farther out from the city where I work, but I prefer living alone over not having to make the rather long drive to and from work every day. And, because my free time during the day is close to zero, I also am a bit of a night owl. This particular night, about three and a half weeks ago, I was up late, sitting at my kitchen table with my laptop out in front of me. I was surfing the net, looking for good deals on EBay for a new DVD/VCR combo since my old one broke, when the feeling came over me. The small, but noticeable shiver shot up my spine, and at the upper edge of my vision, just below where my hair began to drift into my eyes, I saw it.
It was a black and silver blur. At least, that’s what it looked like to me. I lifted my head quickly, looking towards the corner I’d seen it. My kitchen is in the back of the apartment, and where the table is set up, I was looking back out into the living room. The bedroom also sits next to the kitchen, and the wall separating the two stretches out a bit, causing a rather large blind spot from where I sat. Of course, when I looked up, there was nothing there. For a few more seconds, I simply sat, staring at the corner. Nothing moved. There was no sound except for the quiet whine of my laptop’s fan, and the hum of the fridge. I snorted. Really, Eddie? You’re jumping at shadowy blurs now? What are you, eight years old again? And with a shake of my head, I went back to the computer screen.
The hours seemed to pass by at an accelerated pace, and to my surprise, when I checked the clock at the bottom right of my laptop screen, the time said quarter to three in the morning. “Holy crap, I stayed up too friggin’ late!” I whispered to myself. I’d barely be getting four or five hours of sleep. And so, with a yawn, I shut my computer down and put it back into its carrying bag. As I stood up, though, a slight feeling of apprehension wiggled its way to the forefront of my mind. I lifted my head from zipping up the bag and again stared at the corner. This time there was nothing there. No blur at all. Recalling what my mother had told me years ago, I stood up and slowly stepped into the center of the kitchen, where I could see around the corner. I felt a small pang of embarrassment at the relief that washed over me as I saw nothing was there.
“What next, you gonna start believing in the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus again?” I muttered to myself. And with that, I entered my bedroom, shutting the door behind me and climbing into bed. For a moment, the image of the blur danced behind my eyelids. And then the sandman overtook me, plunging me into a deep and dreamless sleep.
The next day passed by like I was wading through quicksand. Of course, it likely had to do with how tired I was. But I got through the day, and soon enough, I was back home. This time, I resolved to get to bed before midnight. One AM at the latest. So I didn’t go on my computer. Instead, I watched some TV, and indulged myself in a few online matches in Battlefield 1. Soon enough, the clock sitting next to the TV displayed 12:35 in big red numbers. Alright, time for bed, I thought, and stood up, shutting off the TV and Xbox. I decided that I would get myself a drink before bed, and moved to the fridge. Opening it, I pulled a pitcher of juice out, and grabbing a glass from a nearby cabinet, poured myself some. The cold liquid felt good sliding down my throat, and I let out a relieved sigh. For a moment, I closed my eyes. Apart from the sound of a diesel truck passing by outside, and the ticking of the clock over the sink, all was silent. And I loved it. I placed the glass in the sink to wash tomorrow, and turned to take the pitcher back to the fridge.
And nearly dropped it at what I saw. As I turned around, I had a clear view across the kitchen and living room toward the small alcove where my front door sat. And for just a second, I saw the same black and silver blur, pulling back out of sight from the edge of my vision. Except this time, I know it wasn’t just a trick of my vision, or a strand of hair flashing in front of my face. “Hey!” I reflexively yelled out. I didn’t expect any response, and I didn’t get any. But now I knew for certain. There was something, or someone there. I felt my pulse rapidly quicken, and my heart began to beat like a drum against my chest. Fucking great, did someone decide to break in and try to burgle my apartment, of all places tonight? I looked around quickly for something to defend myself. My eyes fell upon the block holding all my kitchen knives, and moving quickly, I pulled the largest one out and turned back towards the entryway.
There was no movement now, but I noticed a change in the atmosphere. Gone was the simple, vacant air the apartment always held. Now, it seemed to contain a charge to it. As if seeing the figure had been something they hadn’t planned on. As if I weren’t supposed to have seen it. Probably figured I’d already be in bed. Well, they have a massive surprise coming their way. I cleared my throat. “You back there” I called out simply. Again, there was no reply. I spoke again. “Look, I saw you there peeking around the corner of the entryway. The jig is up. I don’t want a fight right now, so, I’ll make you a deal. If you turn around right now and leave, I won’t call the cops on you, and I won’t come at you with this knife. Just, go find someone else to rob, okay?”
Still, there was silence. But the tension in the room seemed to have racked up more than a few notches at my words. I waited for a minute, feeling my temper begin to flare. Does the dumbass seriously believe that if he stays quiet, I’ll believe he’s not there and go to bed or something? It wouldn’t be a surprise; the people who usually broke into houses and apartments in my neighborhood were usually strung out on the drug of choice for the week, or, in all truthfulness, simply not that bright. I let out an annoyed growl. “If I have to come over there to get, it’s not gonna end well for you” I said. At six feet even, and in good shape, I could easily take on whoever it was.
The silence was almost deafening. Okay, the hell with this, man. I strode quickly across the room, the knife held out in front of me in a vice like grip. I stopped for a moment, drawing in all my strength and reflexes. For a moment, though, an odd sensation seemed to wash over me like a wave. To my surprise, it was a bolt of fear. But, fear of what? Yes, it was a bit dangerous to about to confront a cornered intruder, but fear shouldn’t be one of the experienced emotions. Shaking it away, I put all the muscle into my legs, and leapt around the corner.
There was nobody there.
For a moment, I simply stood there, feeling dumbfounded. “Uhhh….what?” I blurted out. I knew for a fact I’d seen someone there. It hadn’t been a trick of my eyes. And I hadn’t heard the front door open. In fact, looking down at it now, I saw the little knob on the door handle was, in fact, twisted into the locked position. As I stared down at it, a sudden, huge shiver rushed up my spine, combined with the feeling of being stared at intensely. In fact, it almost felt as though whoever were doing the staring, were almost directly behind me-shit!
On instinct, I whirled around, slashing out with the knife as hard as I could. But again, there was nothing. No one stood behind me. The oddest thing, though, was that as soon as I spun around, the feeling of eyes boring into the back of my skull ceased. As if the watcher had simply blinked out of existence the moment I turned. But the tension in the apartment didn’t go away. In fact, it almost seemed to intensify. And it kept me on edge. Enough to the point that I searched the entire apartment. I went into the bathroom, drawing back the shower curtain. I went into my bedroom and opened up the sliding doors to the closet. I even opened up both closets in the living room, pulling out all the coats and boxes someone could hide behind. But I found nothing. No trace of anybody. Even still, though, when I went to bed, I locked the door to my bedroom behind me, just in case. And I slept with the knife on my bedside table.
The next morning, when I awoke, the feeling had vanished from the apartment. It was almost as if the daylight had banished the tension filled aura away, and I was glad for it. Along with the fact that I had a full day of work ahead of me. And so, with a final look around, I locked the front door behind me, climbed into my old, but well taken care of Mitsubishi Starion, and made the two and a half hour drive into the city for work. The day passed by without much fuss, aside from a mandatory team meeting my dickhead boss decided to impose on us during our lunch break. The monotony calmed me down somewhat, and I began to mentally tease myself for how bent out of shape I’d gotten last night. I even decided to tell some of the guys at the water cooler about it.
Everyone, of course, had a good laugh over it. “Well, Ed, if I ever need someone to slice away at the dark emptiness of my house, I’ll be sure to give you a call!” Mark, one of my coworkers joked, causing everyone, including myself, to guffaw some more. The joking shoved it completely out of my mind, and before I knew it, the evening had arrived. I packed up my belongings back into the car and made the journey back home, still chuckling a bit to myself and humming along to the songs playing on the car’s radio. As I pulled into my apartment building’s parking lot and into my space at close to ten at night, however, I saw something which tore away that relaxed, relieved emotion from me like it’d been a loved one in the grip of a tsunami.
My complex is set up in a U formation with two floors, sort of similar to how an older built motel looks. My apartment was the second one on the top floor, and from where I sat in my car, I could look up and see the living room window of my place between the slats of the walkway’s railing. As I always did, when I left, I’d twisted shut the white venetian blinds so nobody walking past the window could look into my place.
Someone was peering down at me from between the blinds. From between my blinds.
I felt my blood turn to ice as I saw the obvious parting in the middle of them, signifying someone was pulling down on a section of them. And then doubly so when they, just as quickly, snapped back into position. Shitttt, I mentally hissed. I fumbled around in my coat pockets, looking for my cell phone. I let out a groan as I suddenly realized I’d forgotten it when I’d left home that morning. Which meant it was up there. With them. “Shit” I hissed again, out loud this time. I gazed around for a moment at the darkened windows of the other units. But I knew none of my neighbors would be of any help to me. Long gone were the days of neighbors looking out for each other; they would, inevitably, tell me to either find a way to call the cops myself, or straight up tell me to go fuck myself, that it wasn’t their problem. Which, unless I wanted to drive straight to my local police station, over twenty minutes away, the only other option was…to go in myself.
Hissing through gritted teeth, I pulled the door handle and kicked the door open, letting the chilly night air flood into the car’s interior. I reached down and yanked on the trunk release before climbing out and slamming the door. Crossing to it, I pulled the glass hatch up and fumbled around inside for a moment, before withdrawing a tire iron from the mess of crap cluttering up the trunk. Slamming the hatch closed, I took a deep breath, then, leaving my car’s engine running in case I needed to make a quick getaway, I took the stairs to the top floor two at a time. A moment later, I was standing at the head of the landing, staring at the Tweety-Bird yellow painted door of my apartment. My heart pounded in my chest as I took a step forward, reaching out slowly and gripping the handle in one hand. I gave it a small twist to see if it would turn.
But it stayed in place, showing that the door was still locked. Or, whoever’s in there locked it behind them. Swallowing a bit, I reached into my pants pocket for my house keys with my free hand. Pulling them out, I slid them as quietly as possible into the lock in the center of the doorknob. I took a deep breath, knowing as soon as I twisted the key, the doorknob would turn with it as well. “God, please don’t let me get jumped as soon as I step inside” I quietly whispered towards the dark sky. I let out the deep breath, then raised the tire iron over my head and twisted the key.
The knob turned, and I immediately pushed the door open. It swung inwards, before hitting the wall with a soft clunk. The porch light cast a long, narrow shaft of light into the dark room beyond, reflecting off my flat screen TV on the far side of the living room. Aside from that, though, the place was as dark and silent as a tomb. My pulse quickened as I slowly reached inside, my hand searching for the light switch. Part of my feared that, as I blindly searched, I’d suddenly feel a vice like grip seize my wrist and pull me into the dark. The mental image sent a shiver of fear through me, just as my fingers found the plastic switch. Flicking it on, the living room suddenly became awash in the bright overhead light. Still holding the tire iron over my head, I took a tentative step inside. The atmosphere in here had changed again. Gone was the tense one which had accompanied seeing…whoever the other night. In its place was….an almost threatening one. And realizing it set me even farther on edge.
Moving quickly, I leaned around the corner, giving me a glimpse of the kitchen beyond. Both it, and the living room were empty, from initial appearances, anyways. But that still left the bathroom, and the kitchen. Something caught my eye, however, which filled me with relief. My cell phone still sat where I’d left it, in the middle of the living room coffee table. I moved slowly, trying to stay as quiet as possible so whoever was hidden wouldn’t realize I was going for my phone and bum rush me. I held my breath as I passed by the half open doors of both my bathroom and bedroom, stepping around the couch and picking up my phone. I decided right there and then, that I’d step back outside and call the cops. There was a fine line between being courageous, and being suicidally stupid, and searching this place on my own, with just a tire iron to defend myself, especially knowing someone was hiding somewhere in here, was firmly on the latter side of that line.
I turned to begin walking quickly back to the open front door. But something stopped me. Something which made me freeze. There was a small section of eggshell white wall between the door to one of my closets, and the bathroom door. Something had been written there. No, not written, I realized. It had been scratched into the wall. My eyes flashed over the three words etched into the paint and plaster. Videre nos potest. My head swam with confusion, trying to place what language it was. That was when I felt my heart almost stop in my chest, my breath along with it.
Out of the left corner of my vision, I saw the door to my bedroom had slowly, but noticeably swung open a bit. That wasn’t what had caused my heart to skip a beat, though. It was seeing the black and silver blur again. Ohhhhh, shit. Before the thought had finished in my head, I was dashing for the door. Out of the corner of my vision, there was a sudden blur of movement as the black and silver figure came flying out of the room. It never made a sound, though. I dodged it, somehow, and flew around the corner, snatching the doorknob in my free hand and yanking the door shut behind me. Twisting the keys to the right to lock the door again, I tore them from the lock and thundered back down the stairs, yanking the door to my car open and crashing into the driver’s seat. Slamming the door shut and locking it, I dropped the tire iron and fumbled with my phone.
As the voice of the emergency dispatcher came on the other end of the line, and I stumbled through explaining what had happened, I kept my gaze locked through the windshield on the front door and the living room window. I swear I saw the blinds part again as I heard the wail of the police sirens approaching.
When the police arrived, I jumped out of my car and quickly explained what had happened. They took my house keys from me and with their pistols drawn, climbed quickly up the steps to my place. With neighbors opening their doors and parting their blinds to see what was happening, they unlocked the door and quickly entered. A few minutes later, they both reappeared and waved for me to come up and join them. “I’m sorry sir, but whoever it was, they’re gone” one of them said to me. He then showed me that the window in the back of the apartment, which was in the back of the kitchen and opened out onto a main road, had been opened, the mosquito screen having been cut to allow someone to jump out. I stared out and down at the two story drop. It would hurt to jump from this height, but it’s doable, I thought. The cops again did a sweep of the apartment, turning the entire place upside down with me there, and again, found no one. They both promised to stay the night outside, to keep an eye on the place in case the person attempted to try and come back, and would make sure an officer was posted outside for the next week or so. It made me feel more than a bit better.
“What about the writing scratched into the wall?” I asked them, pointing to it. The first officer shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, sir” he said, giving me an apologetic look, “That’s a language I’ve never seen before” That’s when the second spoke up. “It’s Latin” he said simply. We both looked at him. He was staring at the writing with a bit of a confused, if not apprehensive look on his face. “But what freaking low level criminal knows Latin?” he murmured quietly, more to himself than us. “Well, what does it say?” I asked him. For a few seconds, he didn’t answer, then he finally turned and looked at me.
“He can see us. That’s, roughly, what it says”
I felt a massive chill shoot up my spine at his words, though I couldn’t understand why. Not at the time.
As promised, the officers watched over the apartment the rest of the night. And for the next week, there was always at least one cop car sitting outside. It was also, thankfully, quiet that next week. I was almost able to feel completely calm, putting the frightening experience out of my mind and allowing my life to regain a bit of normalcy. I didn’t feel any sensation of being watched. One thing I did do, though, was type the Latin words into Google, in an attempt to see if anything came up. But nothing did. I decided to push the last remnants out of my conscious mind. And as the weekend came, I looked forward to sitting on the couch, playing video games all night, and having a bottle of Hypnotiq to myself. Saturday night, I played until almost one in the morning, before stumbling my drunk ass to the bed. I passed out almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I’m honestly not sure what woke me up. But when I slid my eyes open, it was still to darkness. I felt my head begin to spin, showing that I wasn’t fully sober yet. I shot a look at the bright red glowing numbers of the clock on the bedside table next to my head. 3:30AM. Ugh, what the hell? Do I have to piss? What woke me u-
Everything stopped. My mind froze mid-thought, and my heart fluttered in my chest. My breath hitched in my chest as my eyes adjusted to the dark, staring across the room. I was looking at my bedroom closet, which, when I’d fallen asleep, I’d looked over and seen it closed. But now, as I stared, I realized the sliding right door had been pulled back some. A chill ran through me. And then it was replaced by a bone chilling shiver of fear as my eyes locked on to something else. Something which stared at me from around the edge of the half open closet door.
It was the black and silver blur. Except this time, it wasn’t a full on blur. I’m not sure whether it was the darkness or the alcohol still flowing through my veins, but…I could see it a bit more clearly now. I couldn’t see much. Just what looked like two large, very dark eyes, glaring at me. I felt frozen in place, fear quite literally paralyzing me to the bed. As I lay there, my eyes widened to the size of saucers, I slowly became aware of something else. Something which I’ll never forget, which I can still hear in the silence. It was whispering. It was a soft, hissing voice, sounding as grating as sandpaper, but it almost seemed to be growing in intensity. As if it knew I was awake and was staring at it. And it was not even remotely happy about it. The words were indistinguishable at first, but as the voice grew louder, the words became clear. But they weren’t words I knew. Or a language I knew.
“Tolle qui nos videre potest. Tolle qui nos videre potest. Tolle…qui nos videre potest!” I recognized some of the words as the same as the words written on my wall. It was speaking in Latin. The voice grew angrier and angrier, turning from a hiss into almost a demonic growl. And then, it went deadly silent. It almost seemed as though the entire world had gone dead silent, as if everything were being sucked out of the world.
That’s when I saw the hand reach up from underneath the bed to grab onto the sheets, less than a foot from my face. A hand which more resembled a claw, tipped with five razor sharp fingernails. There’s more than one….and it’s under my fucking bed!
Seeing that hand…that claw reaching up from under the bed broke the paralyzing hold that had come over me. I flew up in bed, flinging the sheets up and forwards and letting out an involuntary scream. Instantly, there seemed to be a world of motion in the bedroom. Black and silver blurs seemed to appear from everywhere. From the closet, from under the bed. Even from inside my armoire I used to store candy, books and CDs. And they were all coming for me.
But I was already moving, practically flying for my open bedroom door. Behind me, I caught the blurs following after me. They were terrifyingly fast, but they stayed silent. Silent, that is, except for the mantra they all suddenly began to angrily whisper. The same words I’d heard the one in the closet angrily hiss. “Tolle qui nos videre potest!” they chanted, just loud enough for me to hear. But not enough for anyone else in the complex to. I ran through the bedroom door, grabbing it and slamming it shut behind me. A moment later, I felt the push from the other side as whatever the things were attempted to force it open. Looking around, I spied a kitchen chair within reach and grabbed it, forcing it under the handle to block the door.
I knew it wouldn’t hold for long, though. I could hear the creatures practically throwing themselves at the door. I used the time I had to grab my computer bag, along with the clothes I’d left strewn on my living room floor and my cell phone. I’d just snatched my car keys from their hook, when I realized they’d gone silent. The assault on the door stopped. For a split second, I felt a wave of relief. And then I saw something out of the corner of my eye from the kitchen. My blood turned to ice as I realized the cabinet doors under the sink were beginning to open. And that demonic growl of a mantra was beginning to pour out from under it. So was my bathroom door. And both closets. “Oh, fuck me” I whimpered, then dashed for my door, snatching up my sneakers as they rushed out from their new hidey holes.
I unlocked and threw the door open, dashing out into the night and yanking it shut behind me. Bolting down the steps, I jammed the key into the door of my car and unlocked it. I piled into the driver’s seat and yanked the door shut, slamming down on the lock button. Forcing the key into the ignition and twisting it, the engine roared to life. I knew I should simply call the cops, but I knew at this point, if I did, when they arrived, they’d all have disappeared. Maybe even make it look like another person had jumped out the window again They're THAT smart. Instead, I jammed the shifter into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot. As I left, I saw the blinds part again. As they watched me go.
I haven’t been back to my apartment in weeks. I drove all through the night, fighting back the waves of nausea from the alcohol still in my system until I made it to the city where I work. I rented a motel room, and ever since then, I’ve been staying there. I figured I could just eventually have movers go and collect my things from the apartment, and give my thirty day notice. There was no way I was ever going back there.
I thought I would be safe in the city. I thought I would be safe anywhere else but my apartment. That they were bound to the place.
I was wrong. So very wrong.
Because I’ve started seeing them everywhere now. I’ve seen them while out in crowded places such as the mall or Wal-Mart. I’ve seen them in my coworker’s houses when I’m invited over by them as they tell me they’re concerned about how I’m beginning to act. I’m even seeing them at work. Peering at me from around the corners of hallways, from behind the water cooler. I’ve even caught them glaring at me from around the corner of my office cubicle. They whisper that horrible Latin mantra to themselves, now added with evil chuckles. And whisper it to me. I ended up entering the phrase into Google Translate, to understand what they were saying. But wish I never had. Because knowing meaning of the words fills me with an existential dread and terror I’ve never felt before.
Take away he who can see us
You need to listen to me now. You, reading this account I’m posting. I don’t know what these creatures are. I wish I did, because then, I might have some way of fighting back against them. I don’t even know what they fully look like. I’ve only seen their eyes. And their clawed hands. The only thing I can deduce, is that they are incalculably old. Centuries old. Maybe even eons. I now understand that those blurs I saw all throughout my life, from the corner of my vision, were them. They’ve lived alongside us for all of humanity’s existence, staying just out of sight. They like it that way. They don’t like us humans knowing about them.
But I know others, not just myself, have likely seen them.
How many strange cases of people disappearing in their homes, with all the doors and windows locked from the inside have you heard about. I know I’ve heard more than a few. And I think I know what happened to them. They saw these creatures. And when they realized the people could see them? They came for them. They wore them down, mentally and physically. Like they’re doing to me now. I’m afraid to fall asleep. Afraid I’ll wake up to see them right in front of me. I feel so weak now. I couldn’t fight them off if I tried. They know that. They knew that about the others. And that’s when they dragged them away….to God only knows where.
I know I'm going to find out soon enough.
Because all of today, they’ve been getting closer. I caught one trying to grab my leg under my desk. That wasn’t the scariest encounter I’ve had. The worst was driving back to the motel. Looking in the rear view mirror of my Starion. And seeing one of them glaring at me from just behind the rear seat. It caused me to nearly crash into a telephone pole. I’ve locked myself in my motel room, which is where I’m writing this. I don’t have much time left. They’re beginning to poke their heads out from everywhere in here. Multiple have popped their heads up from under the bed, watching me frantically typing this out on my laptop. And they’re all laughing at me. Today is when they're going to take me. They know I know that. I can’t do anything more now. I can’t run from them anymore. I’m too tired. Too weak.
But I can do one final thing. I can warn you. I can post this account of this here as a warning. I know for a fact most of you won’t believe me. And that’s fine. It may even be what saves you in the end.
But please, listen to me when I say this. If you ever think you see something peering at you from around a corner? If you ever catch a glimpse of a black and silver blur disappearing just out of sight? Don’t investigate it. Just ignore it. Tell yourself it’s nothing, and go about with your lives.
Because you don’t ever want them to realize you can see them.

Hey there! My name is Sumo, and I'd like to invite you to join me in making a new community for gamers wanting to enjoy some Minecraft without feeling the pressure of racing others, or needing to complete crazy tasks to feel like part of the gang.
Join me if you are the type of player who:

• Just wants to hop on after a long day, even if its just for 5 minutes to check your Create carrot farm
• Spends every breathing minute exploring instead of settling down and building a base
• Never leaves their 5x5 hole in the wall and has a full power grid set-up by day 2 (This is my btw)

None-the-less. Whether you fit into any of those roles or not, we are all here to enjoy playing a game.
Let's enjoy it together!
Extra Notes: This server was JUST started, and is on the lower side for storage. After I see the interest, I will move forward with more space.
Join the discord here. There are no crazy rules or banned items. As long as you aren't ruining fun for other players, play however YOU want to play the game. :)
DISCORD LINK: https://discord.gg/g6BmjSuQ
Just hop in the voice chat with me and introduce yourself. That's all you gotta do to join.

Hello! So a buddy of mine took me disc golfing and needles to say I'm hooked. I want to pick up a starter set, nothing too expensive as...well I'm new. Our course is heavily wooded with only one or two open space areas. Do I need to look for certain types of plastic in order to maximize my first investment and opportunities for fun? ATM I'm looking at the Innova, Latitude 64 burst disc, or the Yikun 3-disc sets.

New house new dishwasher! I thought this fancy kitchenaid with the anodized handle would be the start of a new and better era for me. How wrong I was. Now I yearn for the simple pleasures of my midrange Bosch. And I remain unsure, between me and the Kitchenaid, which of us will dispatch the other one first.
So ok: it was in terrible shape. I nursed it back to health with with citric acid, fancy detergent, and tweezing the spray arms. Ground zero for a cockroach infestation too, now also fixed. The last thing was a dead heating element. I pulled it and replaced the element with an admittedly aftermarket unit from ebay. It’s been fine, if maybe a little overeager. Nothing worse than some melted lower rack plastic when I put it in the wrong spot. Everything has been stable since late last year when I changed the element.
But the last couple of days I’ve been getting a burning rubber smell during cycles. It starts right away, well before the dry cycle begins. It is not detectable in the tub when I open it. It’s also not particularly noticeable when I pull the front plate and sniff underneath. It’s most noticeable around the outer top (near the controls) and especially in the adjacent cabinet that feeds in the drain line and electrical, neither of which I have messed with.
I think I’d better pull the thing and see what’s going on in back but curious if anyone has ideas about what I should be looking for in particular and whether I should be worried about continuing to operate the thing, I’d be grateful to hear them.

Anyone using an Enphase gateway with their Sunpower system? Sunpower switched to Enphase IQ microinverters a while back and while they supply the PVS5/6 for these panels it it a dumpster fire (search this subreddit for examples, there are plenty). Enphase seems to say that their monitor system (Enphase Envoy IQ Gateway) is compatible with these panels. This makes sense but I wanted to find anyone who actually had this configuration. Why Enphase? * Appears to have a good local API * Cloud interface for customers looks more detailed (still hides some info) * Appears self installers are actually supported you just have to take their course (and this gets you access to more detailed data) * They have a grid profile that supports curtailment with Powerwalls

I swept up a bunch of Nerf blasters from a Goodwill yesterday (8 of them total for $30, wow!) because I've been getting back into the hobby and collecting and such. Several of them are broken in various ways, but that's okay, I'm sure I can fix them; I've repaired all sorts of stuff in the past! So I decide to start small and with a line that happens to be my favorite, the Nerf Vigilon. It's just a pistol type blaster, surely not too complicated!
oh
oh no
We are currently approaching Hour 10 of having this thing strewn across my bed for a "simple" fix, unjamming, safety removal, and a tension increase for good measure. Of that, about 6 of those hours have been attempting to solve a single problem: the detent on the slide that is supposed to hold the main spring in place until the trigger is pulled doesn't actually seem to have a mechanism attached to it to make it move in and out to do its job. I'm not sure if I have lost whatever part should be doing this, it was missing when I started (one of the many safeties was broken initially, thus why I didn't test it), or if the mechanism involved doesn't work the way I think it does.
Here's what I'm talking about: https://imgur.com/a/TOMxG4C From what I've read, everything I have laying out is from the safeties; It's different colors, probably owing to my blaster being one of the blue ones instead of the orange standard variant (also with added glue spots in a couple of places, which was frustrating to find out!). At this point I'm stumped and looking for pictures of internals of these things everywhere I can, and posting this in hopes of the probably one other person who has ever seriously analyzed this thing's internals to log in. Also I would very much like to sleep in this bed eventually and that is difficult on top of a bunch of plastic.
Help please?

Hi I am leaving for Bogota on the 8th and wanted to know does anyone have any experience flying into Colombia with wax? I am planning on taking my dr. dabber xs stella dab pen in my carry-on with my electronics and placing a silicone container in a plastic bag in my checked bag with my toiletries? Anyone have any tips or prior experience doing this? I am planning on taking about 7grams of wax. thanks!

Hi all,
I am using a plastic original SodaStream bottle and when I put the bottle in the fridge overnight, it loses maybe half the carbonation. For context, I fizz my with cold water only and carbonate on the highest level.
Is the bottle defective or is this normal?
Thanks in advance.

I have a Makita XML08 (I presume the 07 would be similar, it's the non self propelled version, but it probably wouldn't run into this issue).
Long story short, I was mowing under some bushes with the self propel function on, and it got snagged so I let go of the handles, pulled it out. The self propel function works, but the blade motor was dead.
I took the top off (remove batteries, remove the key, keep the battery switch on, there are 7 screws), and found that the plug on the inside for the right side motor switch had pulled out and broke the plug. I was looking for a fuse when I noticed that the wire was completely disconnected (well there's my problem...). It's a white 2 wire plastic connector at the front right (from the prospective of the handle bar) of the mower.
For a field repair, I just pulled the male plug outside off, put the pins in the female side, wrapped it in electrical tape, and finished mowing my lawn.
For the permanent repair, I put the plug back together and glued it with flexible super glue. Then I used gaffer tape to tape the left and right handle wires to the handle.
There is a strain relief on the cable, but apparently it's not enough to hold back the self propel mode. But then it has torn up my chain link fence, so it is pretty strong.
Anyway, it saved me a 2 hour trip (each way) to the warranty repair location and having a funky lawn until they decided to get around to fixing it.

We've lived next to these people for roughly 16 years. We're not close but friendly and cordial, as neighbors should be.
4 years ago, they put up a basketball net in their driveway for their teenage son (he's 18 years old now). He's been hitting our cars with the ball constantly since then. I know it's not intentional, but he often can't catch the rebounds after he takes a shot and it smashes into our cars hard.
I've asked him to be more careful 100 times. He doesn't care. This all came to a head last summer when he hit our car again, proceeded to flip the bird to our security camera and tell us to fuck off. I went over and talked to his parents, they were apologetic.
Yet they still allow him to play. Tonight, the ball hit my car again. I'd reached my limit with this and had another conversation with his dad. Again, he was apologetic (and I was polite, as I have been this entire time). I tried my best to convey after 50 incidents and 4 years of this, I'd had enough. Aside from installing a 5 foot fence on the grass in between our driveways, there is nothing that can solve this issue.
I feel like an asshole here. Like the kid is obviously allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants on his property. But man, the amount of stress, money and anxiety this has caused me is insane. Every time I hear that ball bounce and I know the damage is coming, blood pressure starts to rise. I can't take it anymore.
I worked hard to pay off my little car and man, I just don't want it continually scratched and dented like it has been.
Am I in the wrong here? What would you do in this situation? Feels absolutely ridiculous to even think about getting the cops involved in something as petty as this, but I'm seriously close to losing my sanity. I have been so nice about this entire thing. Hopefully, this second convo with his dad solves this? I just don't know anymore.

I borrowed a marker from a player to draw a map for an encounter, and thought it was one of the fine tip black wet erase markers that I got the group earlier for their laminated character sheets. Fast forward a week to the next time I unroll the mat, I find that I had not bothered to wipe it and now the lines are stuck on there. I thought I would document my trials after trying to remove them in more or less the order I tried. Mind you, all methods ended up as failures, with some worse than others.

1. Water - No effect whatsoever. I thought I had just left it on too long.
2. 91% Isopropyl Alcohol. No real effect. Pooled a bit to one of the corners of the drawing. Some of the ink appeared to be lifted and swirled a blue color in the liquid, but nothing even faded on the drawing itself.
3. Hot water. No effect. Thought that maybe it didn't need a solvent but just some heat.
4. 70% Rubbing Alcohol. No Effect. Not sure why I tried something that was a step backwards.
5. Wet Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. No effect to drawn lines. Removal of some grid lines. They are some added material and the Magic Eraser is an abrasive cleaner, so I probably had literally rubbed that layered material away. Though subtle, the grid lines can actually be normally felt.
6. Windex glass cleaner. No Effect. However I did notice that at this point that any of the marker line that were drawn on time of the grid on the map had disappeared completely. I'm guessing that the grid lines are non-porous and that's why the drawn lines are so stuck on the map comparatively.
7. Prismacolor Magic Rub Pencil Eraser. No effect
8. Expo Vis-a-vis Wet Erase Marker drawn over stain lines, left on for 1 minute, 20 minutes, and 60 minutes, and then removed with room temp water. No effect to previously drawn lines. The applied marking came up without any issue though...
9. Dish Soap, left to sit for several minutes. No Effect.
10. Goof Off. Immediate fading and near total removal of the parchment image. Drawn lines did fade to a purple a bit but the grid lines were removed. Decided to abort, didn't think it'd be worth the trade off even if the lines could be removed.
11. WD-40 on paper towel, rubbed. No effect.
12. White vinegar, on paper towel, left on drawing for several minutes, then wiped off. No effect.
13. Hydrogen Peroxide, on paper towel, left on drawing for several minutes, then wiped . No Effect.
14. 100% Acetone on a paper towel. Began to smudge and slightly remove the parchment imagery, but not nearly as fast as the Goo Off. Didn't remove the grid lines, interestingly.
15. Generic sanitizing wipe, 0.06% citric acid. No Effect
16. Elmer's Washable purple gluestick, left to dry, then wetted with water, and wiped off. No Effect.
17. Elmer's All Purpose gluestick, left to dry, then wetted with 91% alcohol, and wiped off. No Effect.
18. Chalk Ink Marker, let dry, wiped with water. No effect.
19. Crayola Washable Yellow Marker, let dry, wiped with water. No effect.
20. Fountain pen ink, left to dry, removed with alcohol. No effect.

Ran out of ideas at this point.
I had only used the mat one other time with staedtler wet erase markers, and those came out without issue after being left on the mat for several days. I guess this little tavern is a permanent location now as punishment for not taking care of the mat or making 100% sure what I was drawing with. I'll probably look at some Paizo mats, since they seem to not care too much about what you use on them or how long a marker is left drawn on from what I read.
If anyone has any other methods that I haven't thought of or aren't readily available online, I'm all ears.