2021.10.21 12:14 ArBrTrR I dunno why "Japanese Sledgehammer Dad" hasn't become a meme but here's me championing this template.
|submitted by ArBrTrR to pcmasterrace [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 Dont_Know-Why_Lol Mod Request
Hiya just wondering what the name of the mod with all those switches and stuff (like different levers, buttons, key holes, etc) that people use to build multi stage reactors and stuff is :)
submitted by Dont_Know-Why_Lol to feedthebeast [link] [comments]
2021.10.21 12:14 jacknewby Fined for dropping a cigarette
I’m from England and today I dropped a cigarette while I was in a rush to catch a train. I stupidly gave the council my details when I now realise I could of walked away and not give any details as they aren’t the police
I’ve now been issued with a £150 fine but I do have a video recording on myself picking up the dropped cigarette (I’m not sure if this helps)
What are my rights in this situation or is it best to pay the fine and learn the lesson?
submitted by jacknewby to LegalAdviceUK [link] [comments]
2021.10.21 12:14 peter_seraphin 🧢
|submitted by peter_seraphin to Kanye [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 Steve2762 [Day-date automatic under $1000]?
I want to get my wife a Day-Date automatic at 38, 36, or even 34mm if it is available. I have a Khaki King (40mm) but she thinks the watch would be too big for her wrist. And the price point of under $1000 is because she couldn't imagine a watch for herself over $1k.
If anyone knows about a Day-Date automatic please let me know. Not just a date, but both day and date, please let me know.
submitted by Steve2762 to Watches [link] [comments]
2021.10.21 12:14 a_random_weeb_0718 Nice and warm
|submitted by a_random_weeb_0718 to k_on [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 Camel_Additional Season 34 Player Awards
2021.10.21 12:14 throwmeawaypoopy PSA: Don't park at Ragged Mountain in the mornings for the next couple of weeks
Just when I thought local government couldn't be anymore braindead stupid...
My wife dropped the kids off at school this morning, then went to Ragged Mountain to go running. At about 9:30, she finished her run and went back to her car. As she is trying to leave, a VDOT worker tells her that she can't leave and the road is closed...until 2:00pm.
There are no signs saying that the road will be closed and inaccessible -- only a sign that says there is roadwork and "expect delays."
I called Parks & Rec and spoke with the guy who is, apparently, in charge of this. He told me, "Oh, yeah, guess I didn't think that one through. Should probably leave the gate locked in the morning or put up a sign."
When my wife left, there were about 10 cars in the parking lot with their owners, presumably, about to find themselves in the same position she was in. (Fortunately I was working in Cville today and could pick her up -- otherwise, she would have been absolutely screwed.)
Anyway, bottom line:
Starting at about 8:45 every morning for the next couple of weeks, the access road to Ragged Mountain will be closed until 2:00pm. If you park your car there, you will not be able to get out.
submitted by throwmeawaypoopy to Charlottesville [link] [comments]
2021.10.21 12:14 Sabine1024 Toxoplasma infection in living fibroblast cells
|submitted by Sabine1024 to microscopy [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 ComunicologoUnam CLASES DE MANEJO CDMX
Hola Redditors, ¿alguna escuela de clases de manejo que me recomienden?, no tengo auto en casa actualmente, ni conocidos con el tiempo para, así que quiero optar por esto, ya que pretendo comprar un auto en algunos meses.
submitted by ComunicologoUnam to MexicoCity [link] [comments]
2021.10.21 12:14 muggamatt Feeling lucky tonight
|submitted by muggamatt to sportsbetting [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 omkaram Police officer fined for calling police to report 'stolen bicycle' after losing key to lock
|submitted by omkaram to nottheonion [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 Animanga_1122 neck bending
2021.10.21 12:14 WhippetBowie He can go from handsome to dead squirrel rubs in 3 seconds
|submitted by WhippetBowie to longboyes [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 Deliriancy Come on down to Deliriancy's dxmph carnival where we've got all your favourites: feeling melty, everything heavy, sometimes it's itchy and if you like spiders well we've got tons of those too
|submitted by Deliriancy to DPH [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 Illustrious_Swing_38 Need some outfit advice!!
What should i wear to meet my LD boyfriend? I’ve never been on an airplane before, but i feel like i should dress somewhat comfortable for a long flight. How can i mix cute with comfortable? This is my first time meeting him!!
submitted by Illustrious_Swing_38 to fashionadvice [link] [comments]
2021.10.21 12:14 g28802 My old bands set up. Fun times! Doom/prog band called Viceroy
|submitted by g28802 to doommetal [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 lavender-marie looking for 2 tickets for montreal!
i know it's a long shot, but i figured i'd check here if anyone was selling their tickets! the resale sites are really going wild, it's impossible to find anything under $200 :/
submitted by lavender-marie to mitski [link] [comments]
2021.10.21 12:14 AutoNewspaperAdmin [Business] - Facebook agrees to pay some French publishers for content | Irish Times
|submitted by AutoNewspaperAdmin to AutoNewspaper [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 Erutious Purga De Ratas
The celebration of Purga Renovadora was a celebration that was highly anticipated in my town.
The celebration is always capped off by the Hunting of the Mice, which was the highlight of the event.
On the first day of the feast, we opened the door to find the three masks attached to our doorknob.
This occurred year after year for as long as I could remember, and I didn't think it was strange at all. Every year we would open the door to find three cat masks, long wire whiskers, and pointy black ears, hanging from the doorknob of our home. There would be one for my mother, one for my father, and one for me. We would wear them at the festival, riding the rides and playing the games, lifting them only slightly to eat the food at the feast as we gave praise to Saint Roche. This year, however, was special for me. I was thirteen, old enough to do a day's work if I chose to, old enough to have my own money, and to have my own responsibilities.
Old enough to participate in what came after the feast.
Old enough to participate in the Purga de Ratas.
I had always watched from the windows of the Council Hall with the other children as the people in the cat masks went about freeing us of the rats. You could see them sometimes, the big rats with their pointed noses and coarse whiskers, running through the streets as the cats turned them out of wherever they were hiding. I asked mother what they were, they were larger than the rats I had seen in our pantry on occasions, and she had told me that these were the undesirables, those who Saint Roche had chosen to purge from the community and that it was the job of the town to become his Cats and free the community of them.
I asked her once if we could be chosen by Saint Roche to be purged on that night, and she had told me that I'd better pray that it never happened.
Those who were purged on the Purga de Ratas were cursed and removed from town after being destroyed.
This was the year I would discover what that truly meant.
I went to the festival in my mask, excited for the night to come. As I played the games, danced at the Danza de Rothe, and ate at the feast, I couldn't help but think of taking to the streets with my father and mother that night to help purge the unclean from my town. Mother had said that they were Saint Roche's enemies, said that her father had said they were filled with spirits who had brought the plague to their city when she was a girl. If they didn't purge all of them, they would bring it there again. I was excited to go out and bring honor to my family as I drove these rats out of the city, but I was also a little scared. It was that feeling you get just before doing something dangerous and exciting, like riding a wild horse. You fear the action, but you can't wait for the ride.
I was a little sad, though, because my friend Maria wasn't there. She never missed the festival, and not seeing her made me wonder if she was sick? Her father wasn't a nice man, my father said. He didn't support the festival, and he had tried to argue for having it canceled many times. He always seemed nice to me when I visited Maria, but I knew well enough not to argue with my father. I didn't see Maria all day, and as we went home with the setting sun, I hoped I would see her tonight. We returned home, and I ate at the midnight feast that my parents always ate before it was time to go to the night's work. I tucked in greedily, knowing I would need my strength for what was to come.
God help me, I was young, and I didn't know what was in store for me.
As we ate, I asked my mother about the people who didn't go to the festival? She looked up critically, asking what I meant. I told her I saw someone peeking through the windows of their home. They moved away from the window quickly, but I had marked them by their whiskers and beady eyes. Mother said that those people were not to be trusted and that clearly they had been infested with spirits Saint Rothe wanted us to expel from the city that night. I nodded, making a note of that house in my mind. Their house was close to ours, and my parents and I could get there easily and chase them out.
When the deep thrum of the midnight bell tolled, Father donned his mask and led us to the kitchen. They could get right to the work at hand tonight. There would be no need to take me to the chapel for safekeeping tonight. He handed each of us a knife from the knife block, saving the sharpest knife for me. It was a long, curved fillet knife, and he told me not to be afraid to swing it hard.
"They aren't people anymore, and we must expunge the plague from the city."
I nodded, not understanding entirely, but I soon would.
We left the house, and I took them to the house I had seen earlier, seeing the other cats as they moved through the city. They were moving in clusters, groups of five to ten, and soon we had been taken into a clowder easily. The other cats around me were a comfortable weight, all of the people I knew, though I didn't know that I knew them. They followed us as we went, letting us lead them to the rats.
The lights were off when we approached, the house dark, and the windows shuttered. I figured this would be the time when we would scare the mice out of their hole. I had seen my kitten, Georgette, scare mice out of their holes before. She would pretend to be interested in one hole, and then, when the mouse would poke its head from the other hole and come hesitantly out, she would dash at them and scare them out of the house. She would run them and run them, her kitten energy boundless, until mother finally saw them and swept them out with the broom, always with a cry of "Purga de Ratas!" as she swept them from our home.
But we were no kittens, it seemed.
The cats of this city did not hunt like that.
The stone made me jump when it crashed through the window. The window shattered inward, and I heard someone shriek. We had scared the rats, and now they would come running out. But this was also how kittens hunted. Several of the cats, the ones with clubs as well as knives, cleared the glass out of the window and climbed through easily. The shrieks from inside were undoubtedly more human than ratlike, but when the door burst open, one of the rats ran for it, just like the ones at home. No broom came to sweep him away. The clowder fell on him, and I saw his hand come up to reach as the knives came down.
I stopped as I saw what they were doing, feeling a little sick as I saw the blood leaking from the rat. He was bigger than I had expected, bigger than me, and he twitched as he lay there. I took a step back, not really wanting to get too close, but my mother pushed me forward as her hand stopped my retreat. I looked back into her cat mask and saw her gentle eyes as she pushed me again.
"Go on, honey. Get a cut in."
I stepped forward, some of my excitement dulled by fear, and saw the struggling rat look up at me as it bled onto the cobbles. Its black eyes stared at me, and it coughed wetly, though its lips did not move. I held my knife in a shaky hand, preparing to strike, when the rat suddenly reached out for me, locking its hand around my ankle. My fear gripped me, and I suddenly stabbed out with the knife. I stabbed the rat, again and again, closing my eyes as I stabbed his arm, his back, and his neck.
The hand went limp as he flopped to the cobbles.
The clowder cheered, and we were off again.
We ran, drunk off our own power, and found a pair of rats in the street as they dodged another group. They were cutting down an alley as we came upon them, but they looked up at our group as it came close. One of them took off down an alley, but the other just stood there, frozen in terror as the clowder fell on her. She screamed as we stabbed her, but I broke off to pursue the other one as they finished stabbing and beating her. I didn't want her to get away, but my blood was also up, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to take one of these rats down myself. I ran after her, leaving others behind, and found her just as she hit the wall to the alley.
She turned, seeing me, and started looking around fitfully.
I could almost taste her fear as I stalked closer, knife at the ready.
I too would purge my town of rats.
"Please," she begged, and her words gave me pause.
She was speaking. Did rats speak? None of the rats I had ever seen spoke. Of course, none of the rats I had ever seen were this big either. The speaking rat made me falter for a moment, and she took full advantage of this as she tried to reason with me.
"Please, please don't hurt me. I'll give you whatever you want. I just don't want to die."
I heard the clowder coming up behind me, yelling as they came, and their presence gave me strength. I ran forward and shoved the knife into the rat, the blade sinking into the abdomen as I shouted “Purga de Ratas!”. Her dress started reddening, her hands gripping the knife as she cut her fingers, and she fell to her knees as the clowder came into the alley with a shout of mirth.
I pulled the knife out and ran to my father, who pulled me into his arms and whispered, "You're a natural."
At that moment, I was so proud. My family was doing something special, and we were a united front. Sometimes it almost felt like we lived our own lives, only seeing each other at dinner, but now we were doing something we could all enjoy, and I couldn't wait till next year.
I didn't have the slightest idea what I was doing, but I would soon find out.
I followed the clowder, growing bolder as we went until we came to the next house.
They pounded on the door, yelling for the rats to come out and face their fate. Everyone else was waiting expectantly, waiting for the door to open so they could charge the house and kill these rats too. I was confused, though. There must have been some mistake. This couldn't be the rat's house. They were looking for rocks to break the window, but I just shook my head and felt my confusion mount.
This couldn't be the right house.
This was Maria's House.
The door opened suddenly, and Maria's father stepped out onto the stoop. He wasn't wearing a mask, his face having a stoic cast, as he raised his rifle and pointed it at the mob. Some of them backed up, but most of them only seemed to take more pleasure from his presence. They mumbled to themselves, gripping their knives and preparing to charge. Maria's father cast his gaze around at them, his eyes falling on me for a moment before sliding away.
"I'm not wearing your damn mask. This whole celebration is an abomination! If you mean to take my family, you can come and try. I'll take at least a few of you with me. Just remember, which of you will be wearing rat masks next year?"
I backed away from the clowder slowly, my knife hitting the cobbles. No one noticed the metallic sound or the scream that followed it as the rifle blammed loudly. One of the cats had charged him, thinking he wouldn't shoot, and now he lay bleeding on his doorstep. The gun went off again a moment later, but I didn't see who it had killed then. I was running, head down, my mask forgotten as I turned from the carnage that I now understood was not a magic festival or fight for our town from giant rats. We were killing our friends, our neighbors, and I would never understand why. I ran, I ran as the tears streamed down my face, and I didn't stop running until the sounds of rats and cats were behind me. I ran until the woods enveloped me, that lush fairy tale wood that seemed to surround our home. The trees whipped at me, the roots pulled at me, and I just kept running. I ran from the horror, from the chaos, and I didn't stop until the ground went out from under me.
Suddenly, I was tumbling. I was rolling down something, and I put my hands up to my face to protect myself. I was so confused, so frightened, and when I hit my head on something, my vision got very blurry. I kept rolling, struggling to maintain my consciousness. I was slapping against bushes and banging against small rocks, and when I finally came to rest, I felt warm, solid ground beneath me.
When the lights engulfed me, leaving me in a warm circle, I passed out.
I woke up in a hospital.
The nurses said I had been found lying on a major highway, a truck driver having brought me here after calling the police. I had been unconscious for a while, a day at least, and I had a pretty massive head wound that would need to heal. The doctor said I had a small skull fracture and that I definitely had a concussion. They kept for a month, most of which was trying to get me to tell them who I was and where I was from. I feigned memory loss; the woman in mothers' books lost their memories sometimes after an accident. I did not want to go back home. I knew for a fact that if I went home, after running away from the festival, that my family might very well find rat masks on their door next year. I also didn't want to face the wrath of my parents and my community. No one refused to participate in the festival, or, like Maria's father, they were made to play the rats.
After a month, I was sent to an orphanage where I was adopted. The country I'm from doesn't have the best track record when it comes to placing children into foster homes or even having them adopted by good families, but I suppose I got lucky. Glenda and Mark were from the United States, here to do missionary work. When Glenda heard about my story, she became interested in me. She said it was as if God had pushed her to help me, and they adopted me. They stayed for a few years, helping me get back on my feet, and when they went home, they helped me gain citizenship and become a United States citizen. I moved with them to Sandiego and attended college. I never told them about my village or Purga Renovadora, and they never pushed me. I think they suspected that my amnesia was self-inflicted, and they are the best parents I ever could have asked for.
I'm thirty now, married, with a new baby and a place of our own. Marco is a wonderful father, and we couldn't be happier. He works as a civil engineer for a large company, and I work as a nurse when I'm not at home with Hugo. Glenda and Mark, my mom and dad, are always welcome in our home, and I can't imagine a better life than the one I have.
The life that my past is threatening to take away.
You see, when I went to get the mail today, I noticed something was hanging on the door of our home. I saw the masks, laughing and thinking it was a Halloween thing from the neighbors, but when I picked them up, the wiry whiskers stuck painfully into my hand. I dropped them and stared in horror. They were masks all right, three of them, and they all had the gray lacquered faces of rats. The whiskers were frayed metal wires, and the nose of one had been broken in the fall, a delicate black bulb that now lay on the pavement beside the mask.
There were three masks, as I said, and the third was the one that filled me with the most dread.
Two were normal-sized, easily capable of fitting an adult face, but the third was small, delicate, the eyes carved to make it look scared and sad.
A mask for a baby.
There was a note inside one, and I thought I would tear it as my shaking hands reached out to open it. The paper was rough, hand-made, and the ink was thick and blocky. The village made its own paper, its own ink, and rarely trading with others. I had no doubt that the masks had been made by the same old man that used to make them every year. I felt the tears come on as I read the note, the concrete biting my knees as I went to them and sobbed against the paper.
The note read- Joyous Purga Renovadora, join us this evening for the Purga de Ratas. If you cannot attend, don't worry. We will bring the celebration to you.
submitted by Erutious to Creepystories [link] [comments]
2021.10.21 12:14 oopsmybad- Who to play? 0.5ppr Week7
2021.10.21 12:14 Curious-Ear-6982 Wut does dis mean?
|submitted by Curious-Ear-6982 to PCM [link] [comments]|
2021.10.21 12:14 Osmosii Day 22 and the urges man
I havent been so far for a loooong time and i forgot about how strong the urges can get... I havent relapsed yet but i really feel like i must. give me some motivation please!
submitted by Osmosii to NoFap [link] [comments]
2021.10.21 12:14 PlanarVet Podcasts skip backwards in the middle of an episode.
Have a strange problem. A lot of my podcasts (no specific one) will randomly, and fairly seamlessly at that, skip backwards about a minute or so in about the middle of the podcast. It's not the exact middle but somewhere in that range. I have no idea why this is happening but it's always about a minute or two skip backwards. Any ideas? Couldn't find anything on Google about it.
submitted by PlanarVet to PodcastAddict [link] [comments]
2021.10.21 12:14 Defiant-Soft5404 Bs p21