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What do you guys think about the current restrictions for decals? Before you were able to place decals on whatever vehicle you wanted regardless of which nation it belonged to. Some examples; RAF roundels on a A6M5 Ko, Soviet stars on a P-51D-30, German crosses on a Comet, or even East German emblems on Soviet vehicles.
The only reason I could possibly see Gaijin keeping the restrictions in place is mainly due to SB. But both air and ground SB have already implemented ways for you to identify vehicles. Air SB let's you see the names and aircraft of teammates when they get within a certain range. And ground SB lets you mark yourself on the map, and you're able to use your rangefinder to identify vehicles as friends or foe.
Decals don't matter in Air SB. You don't get close enough to look at the markings on planes. And when you get close enough to an unknown plane, by that point, a name will pop up to indicate it's a teammate. Of course, if a name doesn't pop up, it's an enemy. Decals play no role in Air SB.
As for ground SB... let's be real here. It's beyond fixing with all of the copy/paste that's been introduced throughout the years. You can freely put US decals on an Italian M18 or Japanese M24. Or disguise your T-V as a German Panther with the "Peanuts" decal. It's completely pointless. The Snail has introduced ways to identify vehicles, some work and some don't. It boils down to players keeping track of what tanks your teammates are in and hoping someone on the enemy team doesn't have a similar vehicle.
There are also skins in the game that are technically violations of the decal restrictions the Snail put in place. Such as those of the US Spitfire, British Vampire with an Italian skin, French F-51C with a US skin. Heck, Soviet tanks are still able to use the Finnish summer skin. Which the Swedish T-80U also has, along with the Soviet deforming tri-color skin.
So, that's why I bring up the question. Do we need decal restrictions? Decals are a form of customization that generally doesn't do anything to disguise you in AB or RB. You can't slap on USAF embems on a German CL-13 and form up with a US F-86. Nor can you add bushes to a German BMP-1 to trick a Soviet BMP-1. It's practically impossible to trick someone in AB or RB unless you get extremely lucky. Decals just let you custom your vehicles to suit the way you want them to look. If you want to put Russian stars on an F-14A, go ahead. Or RAF roundels on a MiG-29. It simply doesn't affect anything in AB or RB. Some will argue about their immersion, but there are plenty of silly things in this game already. Historical accuracy is dead, and the Snail killed it.
What do you guys think? Keep the restrictions despite it only really affecting a single game mode with a low player count? Or remove the restrictions and let players add whatever they want to their vehicles?
Tldr: Decal restrictions are silly and unnecessary. They should be unrestricted in AB or RB.

mostly just a vent, advice if you have any? not expecting any though, I just need to vent also not proofread, sorry
the following is very long, tldr I am incredibly lucky and well off and have every reason to be happy but I'm a shitty selfish person who wants easy instant gratification more than to improve and I can't get myself to care about anything enough to try hard enough
I have grown up in an upper middle class family, my parents are cheap because they grew up poorer then dirt but I have never felt insecure about money or that my needs and wants weren't met financially. my parents have some issues, products of traumatizing childhoods they treated with alcohol when they were younger and now they try and ignore, but they are certainly not awful. My dad can irrationally angry and yell, my mom will flip from being the most loving adoring person to seemingly despising me over the exact same thing, but I have in no way ever been physically abused and at worst maybe got a couple overly harsh words... well paragraphs (she does not know when to stop talking even when she's just digging a deeper hole for herself) from my mom. their worst attribute is probably just the gaslighting that fights never happened or went differently then I remembered but it's not that big of a deal and to be fair I have god awful recall so maybe they are right???
I have a wonderful boyfriend, he lives across the US from me right now because his dad is in the coast guard but we spent a very nice couple months together and are still going very strong. he is the most kind, loving, and supportive person in the world, I love him more than I knew I could love anything.
I don't have many friends because I either pushed them away directly or indirectly because I am a shut-in online college student and will forget to respond to text messages for weeks sometimes, but I have a couple who still try even despite how god awful of a friend I am.
I am not doing the greatest in college, but I am not doing terrible either, my state has the Running Start program where you can take partially school-funded college classes from the local community college to count as high school credits junior and senior year, I've been doing that the last 2 years. I am graduating from highschool next month and from college with a business associates next year in March hopefully. I also skipped kindergarten, meaning I am very far ahead in things.
I am in discussion with a local CPA accounting firm about a part-time junior accountant position which is an incredible opportunity in the accounting field as is regardless of how young and relatively inexperienced I am to be having these conversations. It's one of the few things I'm actually good at (at least so far) that I don't despise AND makes good money, I am very excited for it.
I am a trans guy, took me a while to realize it because I tried so hard to convince myself I just needed to "be a girl better" and that's why I hated myself, literally made my own "girl-bootcamp" where I tried to teach myself to be a girl in the most toxic feminity misogynistic way possible like a fool. I'm out of it now though! I am dressing the way I want, I go by a preferred name now, I was out in my highschool's theatre program and everyone was chill with it, I am not working right now so I'm not stuck getting dead named and misgendered all day anymore, and I just had my first appointment with the best gender clinic in my state and I'm supposed to start testosterone in a month. I should be happier then I've ever been.
but in the last month I almost killed myself 3 times, I had only gotten that close to an attempt once before. I've gained this sickening awareness, now that I've met all the imaginary conditions for happiness and success, that I am not getting any better, and it's because I don't want to.
As a kid I daydreamed so hard about the future, so sure the future would make everything better for me, that I became a maladaptive daydreamer and I am still no better about that to this day. eventually I stopped being able to imagine having a future at all, any event planned to happen past this afternoon doesn't feel real until it's occuring. I got out of toxic friendgroups, got in a relationship, got out of it, did therapy, got ADHD meds, did more therapy, got antidepressants, did virtual intensive outpatient therapy, did more therapy after that. I got good grades, I discovered myself, I got a job, I dropped the job to focus on school and myself, I fell in love, I make planner after planner after planner trying to organize my life, I try everything I can to find things I enjoy doing that make my happy and might give me motivation, I have did everything I was supposed to and I am the same trash I was at the start.
I take a shower maybe once a month I brush my teeth maybe once every couple months I eat average 2 meals a day, often just one I stay up late into the night, sleep long into the morning, or fall asleep a 6pm and wake up at 6am, I fall asleep all the time randomly and fatigue clings to me like plastic film I pace for hours and hours daydreaming, or ranting out loud to myself when I'm home alone I doomscroll until my eye sockets feel hollow I play stupid games I know are wasting my time when there are urgent things to be done I rot. I lay in my bed in rot. I sit on the couch and rot. I pace in the kitchen and rot. I sit on my phone and rot.
I can not control myself, I only care about self-fulfilling instant gratification and nothing else. eating is hard and I don't like it, won't do it. showering is hard and I don't feel like it, won't do it. brushing my teeth is hard and I am tired, won't do it. going outside is hard and I know secretly they can't help but judge my stupid girly voice the moment I open my stupid fucking mouth, won't do it studying is hard and I am too stupid for this shit anyways, won't do it
I am not getting better, I am only getting worse. I am at the highest dose of ADHD meds I can comfortably take before the side effects start to bug me, I take a pretty high dose of anti depressants. I know I am chemically better than before, it's not raw exhaustion and disinterest and misery, I get very happy and excited and energetic, but only if does something for me NOW. I get excited about dandelions and weird bugs and Hank green tiktoks and playing Stardew valley and city bus rides and zoos, but only in the moment and once it is gone I am hollow. if something is at all out of reach, no matter how good it is, how much ecstatic euphoric joy it brings me in the moment, I will not fight for it. no matter how miserable I am, if improving the situation is perceived as even slightly more uncomfortable for the tiniest moment, I won't do it. I sometimes have... bladder control issues, absolutely not fucking fun. I used to be so ashamed and proactive about it, and I still feel awful and disgusting and ashamed, but if it's the usual small amount where I can convince myself "it'll dry", I'll literally rot in my own filth for a week or so. it's disgusting, I am disgusting. I have been trying so hard to do better but it's never enough because I can't put my full heart in it, I just want my simple easy pleasure and then die. I am still trying to keep up with things, but I am continuing to worsen. the same cycle happened to me with both jobs I worked, I'd start out a star employee, learning really fast, showing up early, being very responsible, then I'd progressively show up a little later, just barely on time, a minute or two late, 5 minutes late, 10, 20, I call out "sick" an hour before my shift, I do this a couple times, I put in my two weeks/quit. I make up some excuse, usually some mysteriously serious and private family matters, and rot in bed because I fell behind on work or just couldn't find the energy to go and then I realized I'm a shitty employee and leave. I am at the "realizing I'm a shitty employee and leaving" stage in my life as a whole, but that's not allowed. Giving up is a terrible sad tragedy, but the only cure to sadness is to want to be happy. The only way to get better is to want to improve and push through the hard times and work hard and someday things will be easy and good. There's no cure to being the selfish asshole who cares more about not having to brush my teeth then living for my loved ones. I don't want to fight anymore, I am tired, the fighting isn't making me better, my ADHD and depression and arfid all keep from doing the things to fight my ADHD and depression and arfid enough as is, simply not having the will to fight is the final nail. I'm so tired, I want to take off from school and ignore the job opportunity and ignore any needs or responsibilities or meals and just play games and watch science videos and walk around town solely just to walk and look at things in stores I'll never buy and make weird clothes and pick flowers and impulse buy that Amtrak ticket to Monterey so I can visit the aquarium and sleep outside because I'm too young to book and stay in a hotel room alone and catch a bus going somewhere I don't know just to see where I end up and walk through the woods behind my house and try to find animal bones or a snake or something, I want to scream and cry and tear myself to shreds and laugh until I can't breath and spend every second and those awful unproductive dangerous stupid expensive waste-of-time wonderful perfect soul-filling tiny tiny little moments and then just drop dead. no more responsibility to anyone, certainly not myself, just ecstasy and permanent sleep.
it's not fair, I don't deserve that at all, it's selfish to want it when every person in my life has been through so much worse and are doing a thousand times better, I'll hurt people, life isn't that hard, ADHD and depression and common and executive dysfunction happens to people all the time and they do incredible amazing things and all I'm asked is to eat my dinner, take my 2 online college classes, and not fucking kill myself and I am failing at all 3 and I don't deserve to be getting away with this, even if I live but keep up tis behavior I will hurt people and ruin myself, but I just don't care enough to try because at night when I'm standing in front of the bathroom door, more than enough energy to brush my teeth for two minutes, knowing I should, knowing it's easy and fine and good for me and I need to I really need to, I still turn my head and walk into my room. I yell at the people trying to help me, I shove everyone away, and ruin my own life again and again and again and I'm never going to stop because I don't want to. I am shitty selfish person and I don't fucking care and I want to care but I just can't fucking care.

Recent seller feedback. Purchases are helping with bills. I really appreciate it!
Prices include shipping. Lot-buys may entail a combined-shipping discount depending on location.

• Toddy Mac Animated Batman - $38 (or $30 loose) - box has some issues, just ask
  
• Toddy Mac Animated Superman - $30 (or $26 loose)
  
• Toddy Mac Batman Beyond w/ Futures End Batman torso - $26
  
• Toddy Mac Detective 1000 Batman - $28 (or $22 loose)
  
• Toddy Mac Rebirth Superman - $18 (can only sell this as an add-on, as shipping would take up most of the price)
  
• Mattel Multiverse The Ray - $10 (can only sell this as an add-on, as shipping would take up most of the price)
  

• Marvel Legends Firestar - $26
  
• Marvel Legends Cull Obsidian BAF version - $38
  
• Marvel Legends MCU Infinity War Black Widow - $20
  
• Marvel Legends Gamerverse Captain America - $20 (add-on, can go lower if you want it loose)
  
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• Black Series 40th-card Big Daddy Vader - $25
  
• Black Series 1st Edition Offworld Jawa - $25
  
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• Black Series Jedi Ruins deluxe Boba Fett - $25
  
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• Transformers 35th Anniversary Megatron - $38
  
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• Funko Duck Tales Huey/Dewey/Louie Spring '19 con set - $26

• Jakks Super Mario Cloud Diorama Set - $18

No KOs below, all official releases:

• NECA Predator Ultimate Jungle Hunter - $32
  
• NECA Predator 2 Ultimate City Hunter - $32
  
• SH Figuarts Kamen Rider Meteor Storm - $24
  

All of the MOTU packaging below has some creasing and such thanks to the crazy-thin cards Mattel uses.

• Masters of the Universe Origins Trap Jaw - $40
  
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• Masters of the Universe Origins Wave 5 Evil-Lyn - $18 (add-on)
  
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• Atlantis Godzilla Glow in The Dark Model Kit - $36

• Power Rangers Lightning Collection Zeo Cogs 2-pack - $35, front-of-box datestamp
  
• Power Rangers Dino Thunder Red Spectrum-Series packaging - $30
  

• Toddy MK11 Sub-Zero Winter Purple - $15 (add-on unless you want it loose)

• Toddy Mac Warhammer Blood Angels Hellblaster - $15 (sold as add-on only)
  
• Toddy Mac Warhammer Adepta Sororitas Battle Sister - $15 (sold as add-on only)
  

• Number 57 Armored Puppet Oni Flame kit - $25, box front

Box condition: Let me know if you are only interested in perfect packaging - I took separate pictures noting any issues I found.
Shipping: I'm selling only to the US residents unless you want to pay more for international rates.
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A terrifying movie or book or show gets your blood pumping in the moment of consumption, sure—we covered our eyes in Squid Game with the rest of the world. But for the most part, you rest easy afterward knowing that what you've witnessed is fiction, deliberately spun up to creep you out. When the real world gets eerier than anything Stephen King could dream up, that's when you have every right to get a little scared of the dark.
Once in a while, a story of a dreadful disappearance, demonic possession, or devil worship will land in the local paper instead of a pulpy old paperback. We've rounded up the most unnerving real-life tales below. In honor of spooky season, here are eleven we can't stop thinking about.

The Axe Murder House

The Villisca Axe Murder House in Villisca, Iowa is a well-known tourist attraction for ghost hunters and horror lovers alike. The site of a gruesome unsolved 1912 murder, in which six children and two adults had their skulls completely crushed by the axe of an unknown perpetrator, was purchased in 1994, restored to its 1912 condition, and converted into a tourist destination. It costs $428 a night to stay at the old haunted home, where visitors always report strange paranormal experiences, such as visions of a man with an axe roaming the halls or the faint screams of children.
But in November of 2014, the haunting took a darker turn. Robert Steven Laursen Jr., 37, of Rhinelander, Wisconsin was on a regular recreational paranormal visit with friends when true horror struck. Per VICE:

His companions found him stabbed in the chest—an apparently self-inflicted wound—called 9-1-1, and Laursen was brought to a nearby hospital before being helicoptered to Creighton University Medical Center in Omaha.

The Montgomery County Sheriff’s Office said Laursen suffered the self-inflicted injury at about 12:45 a.m., which is around the same time the 1912 axe murders in the house began.
Laursen recovered from his injuries, but has never spoken publicly about what occurred that day. For Martha Linn, the owner of the home, the incident was very upsetting. "It's publicity, but it's not exactly the kind of publicity you desire to have. I don't want people thinking that when they come to the Villisca Axe Murder House something's going to happen that's going to make them do something like that.” The house remains open for tourist visits and overnight stays today.
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The Haunted Doll

When you think of haunted dolls, it’s likely the creepy old Victorian-looking porcelain kind that springs to mind. None of which you probably have laying around. Still, don’t get too comfortable around any kids toys too soon, though: a Disney’s Frozen Elsa doll that was gifted for Christmas 2013 in the Houston area made headlines earlier this year when it seemingly became haunted.
Per KPRC2 Houston News:

The doll recited phrases from the movie Frozen and sang “Let It Go” when a button on its necklace was pressed.
“For two years it did that in English,” mother Emily Madonia said. “In 2015, it started doing it alternating between Spanish and English. There wasn’t a button that changed these, it was just random."
The family has owned the doll for more than six years and never changed its batteries. The mother says the doll would randomly begin to speak and sing even with its switch turned off.

The family decided to throw the creepy doll out in December of 2019. Weeks later, they found it inside a bench in their living room. “The kids insisted they didn’t put it there, and I believed them because they wouldn’t have dug through the garbage outside,” Madonia told KPRC2 Houston News.

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At that point, Elsa ceased to sing the English rendition of “Let It Go” altogether, speaking only Spanish when pressed. The family then double-bagged the bizarre doll and placed it at the bottom of their garbage which was taken out on garbage day. They went on a trip shortly after, but when they returned, Elsa too had come back, and was waiting in the backyard of their home.
This time, the family mailed Elsa to a family friend in Minnesota, who taped the haunted doll to the front bumper of his truck. It doesn’t seem to have made its way back to Houston yet, as per Madonia’s latest February Facebook update on the creepy doll.

A Deadly Exorcism

In August 2016 in North London, 26-year-old Kennedy Ife began acting strange and aggressive following a pain in his throat. He reportedly bit his father, threatened to cut off his own penis, and complained of a python or snake inside of him before his family restrained him to a bed with cable ties and excessive force.
As the BBC reported:

“The family then set about attempting to ‘cure’ Kennedy through restraint and prayer over the next three days, the court was told.”

His brother, Colin Ife, told police:

“It’s clear that thing was in him, what we believed was a demon because it was not natural. It was clearly trying to kill him,” he said.
“We had to restrain him for himself. It was clear if we didn’t restrain him, he could have tried to harm people in our family.”

Kennedy Ife had been bound to his bed for three days without medical attention when his brother called emergency services, explaining that Kennedy Ife was complaining of dehydration. He appeared to have developed breathing issues, and was pronounced dead at 10:17 a.m.
As The Independent reported:

While police were at the house Colin Ife allegedly carried out an “attempted resurrection” by chanting and praying for Mr. Ife.

All seven of Kennedy Ife’s family members were accused of manslaughter, false imprisonment, and causing or allowing the death of a vulnerable adult. A post-mortem examination revealed over 60 wounds including a possible bite on Kennedy Ife’s body, and his father, Kenneth Ife, along with four of his brothers, sustained injuries as well.
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The BBC reported:

Kenneth Ife told jurors he ordered his sons to take shifts and use "overwhelming force" but denied that an "association with cults, occults and secret societies" played any part in the death.

After a four day jury deliberation, all seven family members were cleared of charges on March 14, 2019.
📷Witches prepare themselves for a journey by broomstick to the Black Mountain, circa 1650. From a 17th century Dutch copperplate by Adrianus Hubertus.Hulton Archive

Dead Animals in the Walls

When the Bretzuis family decided to insulate their home in Auburn, Pennsylvania in 2015, they discovered that it had already been—with scores of dead animal carcasses.
As Fox reported:

The dead animals were wrapped in newspapers from the 1930s and 40s and were among half-used spices, and other items.
After removing the items they sent hundreds of artifacts and carcasses to an expert in Kutztown.

The expert attributed the rotting animals in their walls to Pow-wow or Dutch magic, a ritual originating in the culture of the Pennsylvania Dutch to treat ailments and gain physical and spiritual protection. The Pennsylvania Dutch were a group of German-speaking settlers to Pennsylvania in the 1600 and 1700’s, and are often of Lutheran, Mennonite, or Amish faiths.
The Washington Post notes on the magic:

Many of the spells deal with the care of livestock, finding water, or the treatment of minor ailments, reflecting the conditions and concerns of early American settlers.
But powwow also has within it a tradition of darker spells, and even of such things as conjuring demons.

One notable ritual in their tradition is this hex to create loyalty in a dog:

To attach a dog to a person, provided nothing else was used before to effect it: Try to draw some of your blood, and let the dog eat it along with his food, and he will stay with you.

The mold found on the rotting carcasses in the Bretzuis home has caused illness among the family members, and they say that the odor hasn’t gone away.
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Florida Devil Worshipping

Friends noticed that Danielle Harkins, a 35-year-old schoolteacher near St. Petersburg, Florida, started acting strangely in June of 2012, developing an interest in demonic rituals.
Soon after, she was arrested for abuse of seven of her former students, as the Tampa Bay Times reported:

Danielle Harkins told the kids they needed to rid their bodies of demons as the group gathered before dusk Saturday around a small fire near the St. Petersburg Pier. They should cut their skin to let the evil spirits out, police said she told the children. Then, they needed to burn the wounds to ensure that those spirits would not return.
When Harkins held a lighter to one teen's hand, wind blew the flame out, police said. That prompted her to douse his hand in perfume before setting it on fire. The boy suffered second-degree burns, police said.
Another teen was cut on the neck with a broken bottle, police said. Harkins used a flame to heat a small key, which she then used to cauterize the wound.

The police were notified because a friend of one of the students who participated in the ritual raised alarms. However none of the students themselves told their parents about the event or would comment following the arrest of Harkins for aggravated battery and child abuse.
NBC reported:

Investigators said they've spoken to Harkins, but she didn't spell out what type of religion would require such drastic measures.
"She hasn't informed us exactly what she was trying to accomplish with this," Puetz [of the St. Petersburg Police Department] said.

The Death of Elisa Lam

Elisa Lam was last seen on January 31, 2013 in the lobby of the Cecil Hotel in downtown Los Angeles. She was vacationing through the West Coast, documenting the trip on her blog, and checking in with her parents every day. On January 31 those calls stopped. Lam had vanished. Soon the police were involved and her parents arrived to help with the search.
They had nothing. That February, LAPD released elevator surveillance footage of Lam before her disappearance. The footage shows Lam behaving strangely in the elevator, appearing to talk with invisible people, peering around the corner of the door, crouching in the corner, and opening and closing the door. But what exactly is going on in this video raises more questions than answers. Theories range from psychotic episodes, to demonic possession, to unknown assailants just out of the camera's view:
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Around that time, hotel guests started reported weird things happening with the Cecil Hotel water supply. As CNN reports:
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"The shower was awful," said Sabina Baugh, who spent eight days there during the investigation. "When you turned the tap on, the water was coming black first for two seconds and then it was going back to normal."The tap water "tasted horrible," Baugh said. "It had a very funny, sweety, disgusting taste. It's a very strange taste. I can barely describe it."But for a week, they never complained. "We never thought anything of it," she said. "We thought it was just the way it was here."

On the morning of February 19, a hotel employee climbed to the roof and used a ladder to investigate the hotel's water storage tanks. That's where authorities found the decomposing, naked body of Lam, whose personal items were found nearby. After an autopsy, her death was labeled accidental. NBC Los Angeles reported at the time about the strange circumstances in the hotel's past:

The tank has a metal latch that can be opened, but authorities said access to the roof is secured with an alarm and lock.The single-room-occupancy hotel has an unusual history. "Night Stalker" Richard Ramirez, who was found guilty of 14 slayings in the 1980s, lived on the 14th floor for several months in 1985. And international serial killer Jack Unterweger is suspected of murdering three prostitutes during the time he lived there in 1991. He killed himself in jail in 1994.In 1962, a female occupant jumped out of one the hotel's windows, killing herself and a pedestrian on whom she landed.

In February 2021, a Netflix doc called Crime Scene: The Vanishing at the Cecil Hotel explored Elisa's tragic case and the history of the "cursed" Cecil Hotel.

An Exorcism in Indianapolis

Last year, the Indianapolis Star published a lengthy report on a family terrorized by three children allegedly possessed by demons. The account of Latoya Ammons and her family tells disturbing stories of children climbing up the walls, getting thrown across rooms, and children threatening doctors in deep unnatural voices. It would seem like something straight out of a movie–a work of fantasy, except all of these accounts were more or less corroborated with "nearly 800 pages of official records obtained by the Indianapolis Star and recounted in more than a dozen interviews with police, DCS personnel, psychologists, family members and a Catholic priest."
One of the more chilling sections of the report includes a segment about the possessed 9-year-old:

According to Washington's original DCS report—an account corroborated by Walker, the nurse—the 9-year-old had a "weird grin" and walked backward up a wall to the ceiling. He then flipped over Campbell, landing on his feet. He never let go of his grandmother's hand.

Another segment of the piece reads:

The 12-year-old would later tell mental health professionals that she sometimes felt as if she were being choked and held down so she couldn't speak or move. She said she heard a voice say she'd never see her family again and wouldn't live another 20 minutes.

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Utah Murder-Suicide

In September of 2014, a Utah teen returned to his home to find his parents and three siblings dead. "In a notebook, a 'to-do list' had been scribbled on the pages ... The list looked as if the parents were readying to go on vacation—items such as 'feed the pets' and 'find someone to watch after the house' were written," The Salt Lake Tribune reported. It appeared to be murder-suicide, but there was no suicide note, no prior indication that they would do this, no explanation. Police could not figure out why two parents would kill themselves and three of their four children.
For a year, no one knew exactly what happened to the family, or what would drive the parents to do something so unthinkable. In January, police released more chilling details in the case. According to accounts from family members and an investigation by police, the parents were driven by a belief that the apocalypse was coming and an obsession with a convicted killer. As the Washington Post reported:

Friends and family told police that the parents were worried about the "evil in the world" and wanted to escape a "pending apocalypse." But most assumed they just wanted to move somewhere "off the grid." Investigators also found letters written by Kristi Strack to one of the state's most infamous convicted killers, Dan Lafferty, who was convicted in the 1984 fatal stabbing of his sister-in-law and her 1-year-old daughter. According to trial testimony, he killed the victims at the order of his brother, Ron Lafferty, who claimed to have had a revelation from God. The story became a book called "Under the Banner of Heaven."Police said Kristi Strack became friends with Dan Lafferty, and she and her husband even visited him in prison.

The Phone Stalker

In 2007, ABC news documented a series of cell phone calls to families with terrifyingly specific death threats. The unidentified callers knew exactly what families were doing and what they were wearing.

The families say the calls come in at all hours of the night, threatening to kill their children, their pets and grandparents. Voice mails arrive, playing recordings of their private conversations, including one with a local police detective.The caller knows, the families said, what they're wearing and what they're doing. And after months of investigating, police seem powerless to stop them.

This went on with the Kuykenall family for months, who reported a caller with a scratchy voice threatening to slit their throats.

When the Fircrest, Wash., police tried to find the culprit, the calls were traced back to the Kuykendalls' own phones -- even when they were turned off.It got worse. The Kuykendalls and two other Fircrest families told ABC News that they believe the callers are using their cell phones to spy on them. They say the hackers know their every move: where they are, what they're doing and what they're wearing. The callers have recorded private conversations, the families and police said, including a meeting with a local detective.

"The Watcher"

After moving into their $1.3 million dream home, a New Jersey family started receiving creepy death threats from someone who identified themselves as "The Watcher." As CBS News reported earlier this year:
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Since moving in, the owners said they have received numerous letters from the mysterious person. "The Watcher" claimed the home "has been the subject of my family for decades," and "I have been put in charge of watching and waiting for its second coming," Castro reported.The new owners have several children, and other letters asked, "Have they found out what's in the walls yet?" and "I am pleased to know your names now, and the name of the young blood you have brought to me."

The family was forced to flee from their home and later filed a lawsuit against the previous owners.

Issei the Cannibal

In 1974, 24-year-old Wako University student Issei Sagawa allegedly followed a German woman to her home in Tokyo, Japan, broke into her apartment while she was sleeping, and attempted to cut a piece of flesh off her body to consume. When she awoke, she reportedly fought him and he was later captured by the police. According to a 2012 Vice documentary that covered Issei's bizarre story, he was mistakenly charged with attempted rape and his wealthy father paid the victim a settlement outside of court to have the charges dropped.
Seven years later, in 1981, he allegedly committed a murder in France—shooting and eating a fellow University student, Renée Hartevelt. Issei creepily documented the entire experience with photographs and he was captured by authorities once again while attempting to dump the rest of her body in the Bois de Boulogne lake. He was deported back to Japan and committed to a mental institution. For reason unknown, his psychologists in Japan declared that he was sane. Furthermore, a legal technicality involving the French government refusing to turn over the documents from his case meant that his murder charges were dropped completely. He checked himself out of the mental hospital and has reportedly been walking the streets as a free man ever since. Issei has even become a controversial celebrity, writing over 20 books. According to Japan Today, he most recently fantasized about an unnamed TV actress, saying:
"I'll catch a glimpse of her thigh and think, 'That sure looks tasty.' But I don't feel like I actually want to eat it. As I accomplished the act of cannibalism once, there's no meaning to maintaining the desire for it anymore. In my book, I wrote that it [human flesh] was tasty, but that was not really true; I'd much rather eat Matsuzaka (Kobe) beef. But because I'd desired to consume human flesh for so long, I'd managed to convince myself that it would necessarily be delicious."
Issei Sagawa was also referenced in the Rolling Stones song "Too Much Blood," with the lyrics reading: "And when he ate her he took her bones/To the Bois de Boulogne." He is currently 73 years old and continues to live in Kawaski City, Japan. To this day, no one knows why France did not allow Japan to give him a trial.
📷MATT MILLER

So I found out that my tech supervisor has been having a cashier count his deposits, fill out all the slips, do the Garda and weekly deposit logs and even sign the supervisors name for him on forms.
I bring this to my gm and instead of immediately removing them from closing duties he thinks that just a slap on the wrist will be enough and this this shouldn't even be a real write-up.
And this is the latest in a string of attempts to get out of doing his job. It goes down the line. It just makes for far far far more work for everyone else to cover him. Dude is a walking liability as far am I'm concerned. He's been with the company for two months and cutting him lose before 90 days is up would be the ideal situation. We have a couple of people who could step into that role and we'd be just fine.
Truth be told I want to just report it as a ethics violation. The only problem is that it would obviously be tracable back to me and I don't want blowback on myself.
Truthfully, I don't understand why my gm is seemingly covering for a operational liability like this. We gain nothing from keeping him here. Its only loss.
I told my boss today that, frankly, this motherfucker and his defense of him makes me just want to put in my two weeks and move on. I can't really afford that right now tho. Uggg.

Maybe it's because I don't read comics enough but it seems like Spider-Man seems to hold the record of most hated comic runs/issues from a popular character. There's the Clone Saga(forgot the real name), One More Day, the whole Osborn and Gwen Stacey thing, and now the current run which I haven't read but I've heard nothing but bad things.

I started working in a gift shop at a local aquarium a couple of moths ago (I’m a college student and it’s a seasonal job), and for the most part I really enjoy the job. Good hours, good pay for what I do, and just an overall cool environment to work in. I met T, my assistant manager, on my first day and while I thought she was cute and kinda cool, we didn’t interact with each other much for the first couple of weeks of me working there. This is probably due to me being a pretty shy individual, as it takes me longer than most people to warm up to others. I will say however, her gregarious personality has really helped to bring me out of my shell and really enjoy working there.
I want to go ahead and clarify a few things before I list off the reasons I think she does like me, as I can already see people typing comments about a few of these. This is not lust. Yes I’m a 22 year old guy, but I’ve learned how to tell the difference for me personally and I’m genuinely interested in her as an individual. While it’s only been a couple of months, she is genuinely my favorite person I’ve met in the past 2-3 years. I’m also not very likely to make a move, as I believe in the don’t sh*t where you eat principle. I really like her but I understand restraint, so I’m coming here as a way of expressing my feelings in a non-destructive way. There are circumstances that could lead to me making a move, but I would have to be 100% sure and it would have to be towards the end of my tenure at this job (probably around August-September).
Also before people try and tell me there’s no way a 32 year old woman would be attracted to me, I’d like to explain a couple of things because I understand it’s atypical. Firstly I’ve been told by many people from many walks of life that I’m mature beyond my years. I’m not claiming to be 32 years old mature, but I’m also not your typical early twenties guy looking for parties and the hanky panky anywhere I can find it. I’m also a pretty attractive guy even though I’m on the skinnier side. I don’t feel conceited saying that as I grew up with ugly duckling syndrome, and have recently found confidence in myself after putting in a good bit of work into my appearance over the past couple of years. I have a deep soothing voice and the presence to match (one of my friends calls me a sedative) and women over the age of thirty routinely hit on me or tip their hand that they find me attractive.
Now I’d like to list a few of the signs that make me think she’s into me as well (and a couple that give me pause). I really think she does like me, but there is the very real possibility that she’s just being friendly as she is a naturally gregarious person. If that’s the case I’d want to know as I have no intention of making her job uncomfortable.

• Firstly I just have the gut feeling. Based on a lot of things I’ve read this is the biggest indicator.
  
• We flirt a lot. Most of our conversations are flirty with lots of banter, and she loves to pick on me. As I said she’s a very outgoing person who tends to pick on a lot of people, but it always seems more frequent and direct when it comes to me.
  
• I’m not an overly physical guy when it comes to touch (childhood trauma stuff) and at first she seemed to be looking for excuses to touch or brush up against me, but it almost seems as if she realized this and has toned it back some. She still looks for playful excuses to touch me however, such as doing the thing where she’ll tap me on one shoulder and duck the other way only to be waiting for me on my other side with a big grin.
  
• She uses my name a lot. It’s always “Good morning L” or “Thank you L”, and she rarely misses an opportunity to use it.
  
• One morning however I was walking by the back door right as she was coming in a few minutes late. As she came in I greeted her with a hearty good morning and I seemed to catch her off guard as she responded with the sweetest and shyest hi, which is odd as I’ve only seen her exert shyness on a couple of occasions.
  
• She has told me a couple of times that that I’ve brightened her day
  

-She gets me to help her with things inside the shop a lot. She will frequently find things for me to do with her or for her, even a couple of times getting me to help her pull inventory from the trailer that’s about a five minute walk from the the store. She does have other people help her out, but when I’m around most of her tasks go to me.

• I could be misreading this one but piggybacking off of that, there was a time where she had me helping her out with a task and the head manager came and asked me for help with something. I said yes because she’s the head boss, and a few seconds later T walked over seeming aggravated and said something to the tune of “You’re helping me, and I’m going to tell her that.” And that was that.
  
• After a day with lots of flirting she pulled up next to me as I was walking to my car to leave and told me she could “give me a ride home if I wanted”. For context my car was parked in a weird place that she couldn’t see and I had told her I had been having car troubles, so she certainly could’ve just been being friendly.
  
• She also does this weird thing where she likes to come over and compliment attractive women I’m talking to. One of the things I really appreciate about her is she freely gives compliments because she likes to make people feel better about themselves. While she compliments people a fair amount, I’ve noticed that she frequently appears when I’m helping out an attractive woman and tells her she’s really pretty before walking away.
  

Now a couple of reasons why I’m hesitant to think she’s interested in me.

• She doesn’t compliment me much at all. I’m aware that this one could go either way and she has complimented me a couple of times (she loves my hair), but with how much she compliments other people it gives me pause .
  
• She calls me sweetheart sometimes. I go out of my way to be friendly and have no problem helping people, and I try not to have too many bad things to say about people and a lot of older women call me sweetheart because of it. She is no exception, and in my experience women who call me sweetheart have no interest in me like that.
  
• Lastly we haven’t shared a ton of personal details with each other. This is likely on me as I’m a pretty private person and it takes me getting comfortable to ask for and share personal information.
  

Anyways if you made it this far I’m sorry for the length of the post post and thank you for your time. I had a lot I wanted to get off my chest and felt this was a healthy way to do so. I’d love to hear your opinion and any advice you may have. Thanks again!

So, there's a man crawling through the desert.
He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here.
He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun, and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last.
He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So, he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the direction he thinks is right.
He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst.
He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark.
By the end of the day, he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least three miles an hour, according to his watch for over ten hours. That means that if his estimate was right, he should be close to the town. Unfortunately, he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills. That'll be all he needs.
As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things, he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights.
Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars.
He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He’s so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car.
He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. The desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be in without water. Unless he finds water, he figures, this is his last day.
He rinses out his mouth with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits for a while after spitting that little bit out to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid.
Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way as yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do.
Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking.
As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that. He knows that when you stop sweating, you’re in trouble. It’s usually right before heat stroke..
He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large rock, takes the bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowly swallows it, making it last as long as he can. It feels so good in his dry and cracked throat that he doesn't even care about the nasty taste. He takes another mouthful, and makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half the bottle. He figures that since he's drinking it, he might as well drink enough to make some difference and keep himself from passing out.
He's quit worrying about the denaturing of the wiper fluid. If it kills him, it kills him. If he didn't drink it, he'd die anyway. Besides, he's pretty sure that whatever substance they denature the fluid with is just designed to make you sick: their way of keeping winos from buying cheap wiper fluid for the ethanol content. He can handle throwing up if it comes to that.
He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills, dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water. Sometimes he'll see a little movement to one side or the other, but whatever moved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on it. Probably birds, lizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move more at night. He's careful to stay away from the movements.
After a while, he begins to stagger. He's not sure if it's fatigue, heat stroke finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturing of the wiper fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself and keep going.
After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is good! He knows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV - he remembers doing donuts in it, or at least he thinks he remembers it; he's getting woozy enough and tired enough that he's not sure what he remembers anymore or if he's hallucinating. He thinks he remembers it, so he heads off into it, trying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to the town.
He was heading for a town, wasn't he? He thinks he was. He isn't sure anymore. He's not even sure how long he's been walking anymore. Is it still morning? Has it moved into afternoon, and the sun is going down again? It must be afternoon; it seems like it's been too long since he started out.
He walks through the sand.
After a while, he comes to a big dune in the sand. This is bad. He doesn't remember any dunes from when he was driving over the sand in his SUV. At least he doesn't think he remembers any. This is bad.
All the same, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. He figures that he'll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see anything from there that can help him find the town. He keeps going up the dune.
Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second or third time and falls to his knees. He doesn't feel like getting back up, since he'll just fall down again. He keeps going up the dune on his hand and knees.
While crawling, if his throat weren't so dry, he'd laugh. He's finally gotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert, crawling through the sand on his hands and knees. It would be the perfect image, he imagines, if only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the desert in the cartoons always had ragged clothes, but his have lasted without any rips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse half buried in the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape - shake the sand out, give them a good wash, and they'd be wearable again. He wishes his throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it hurts.
He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he's at the top, he struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All he sees is sand. Sand and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he thinks he sees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him, more dunes, more sand. This isn't where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Or close enough.
Again, he doesn't know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of the wiper fluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle and starts removing the cap when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in the sand. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees something strange. It's a flat area, in the sand. He stops opening the bottle and tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular, and it's dark: darker than the sand, and there seems to be something in the middle of it, but he can't tell what it is, so he looks as hard as he can but still can't tell from here. He's going to have to go down there and look.
He puts the bottle back into his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune. After a few steps, he realizes that he's in trouble; he's not going to be able to keep his balance. After a couple more sliding, tottering steps, he falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot that he thinks he's caught fire on the way down - like a movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it ever even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face with his hands, and waits to stop rolling.
He stops at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he finds enough energy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes. When he clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the dark spot in the sand it still there and he hadn't just imagined it.
Seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand still there, he crawls towards it. He'd get up and walk towards it, but he doesn't seem to have the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final stages of dehydration he figures as he crawls. If this place in the sand doesn't have water, he'll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his last chance.
He gets closer and closer, but still can't see what's in the middle of the dark area. It’s hard to focus, and lifting his head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. He just keeps crawling.
Finally, he reaches the area he'd seen from the dune. It takes him a minute of crawling on it before he realizes that he's no longer on sand - he's now crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking on it - a pattern cut into the stone. He's too tired to stand up and try to see what the pattern is, so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards the center where his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the dark stone area.
His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands and knees are so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that this dark stone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun overhead, doesn't seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considers lying down on the nice cool surface.
Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He's probably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and dying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon the beautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving him a drink. Then he'll know he's gone.
He decides against laying down on the cool stone. If he's going to die here in the middle of this hallucination, he at least wants to see what's in the center before he goes. He keeps crawling.
It's the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes what he's hearing. He would swear that someone just said, "Greetings, traveler. You do not look well. Do you hear me?"
He stops crawling. He tries to look up from where he is on his hands and knees, but it's too much effort to lift his head. So he tries something different: he rolls over and leans back trying to sit up on the stone. After a few seconds, he catches his balance, avoids falling on his face, sits up, and tries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands and tries again. Better this time.
Yep. He can see. He's sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark expanse of stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white post or pole about two inches in diameter and sticking about four or five feet out of the stone, at an angle.
And wrapped around this white rod is what must be a fifteen foot long desert diamondback rattlesnake, with a hovering tail and rattle seemingly prepared to start rattling, looking directly at him.
He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn't have the energy to get up and run away. He doesn't even have the energy to crawl away. This is it: his final resting place. No matter what happens, he's not going to be able to move from this spot.
Well, at least dying from a bite from this monster should be quicker than dying of thirst. He'll face his end like a man. He struggles to sit up a little straighter. The snake keeps watching him. He lifts one hand and flicks it in the snake's direction, feebly. The snake watches the hand for a moment, then goes back to watching the man, looking into his eyes.
Hmmm. Maybe the snake has no interest in biting him. It hasn't rattled yet - that’s a good sign. Maybe he isn't going to die of snake bite after all.
He then remembers that he'd looked up when he'd reached the center here because he thought he'd heard a voice. He is still very woozy; he feels like he might pass out soon. The sun still beats down on him even though he is now on cool stone. He still doesn't have anything to drink. Although maybe he had actually heard a voice. This stone doesn't look natural. Nor does that white post sticking up out of the stone. Someone must have built this. Maybe they are still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to him. Maybe this snake is even their pet, and that's why it isn't biting.
He tries to clear his throat to say, "Hello," but he’s too dry. All that comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There's no way he's going to be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his pocket, and the bottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls out the bottle, almost losing his balance and falling on his back in the process. This isn't good. He doesn't have much time left by his reckoning before he passes out.
He gets the bottle open, manages to get the bottle to his lips, and pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He sloshes it around, and then swallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels better. Maybe he can talk now.
He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he turns to look around him, hoping to spot the owner of this place, and croaks out, "Hello? Is there anyone here?"
He hears, from his side, "Greetings. What is it that you want?"
He turns his head back towards the snake. That's where the sound seemed to come from. The only thing he can think of is that there must be a speaker hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. He decides to try asking for help.
"Please," he croaks again, suddenly feeling dizzy, "I'd love to not be thirsty anymore. I've been without water for a long time. Can you help me?"
Looking in the direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice was coming from this time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, open its mouth, and speak. He hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and he falls forward, face first on the stone, "Very well. Coming up."
A piercing pain shoots through his shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. He sits up and grabs his shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. He's momentarily disoriented as he looks around, and then he remembers: the crawl across the sand, the dark area of stone, the snake. He sees the snake, still wrapped around the tilted white post, still looking at him.
He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels slightly wet. He pulls his fingers away and looks at them - blood. He feels his shoulder again - it feels like his shirt has two holes in it - two puncture holes. They match up with the two aching spots of pain on his shoulder. He has been bitten. By the snake.
"It'll feel better in a minute." He looks up - it's the snake talking. He hadn't dreamed it. Suddenly he notices - he's not dizzy anymore. And more importantly, he's not thirsty anymore - at all!
"Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in the afterlife?"
"Sorry about that, but I had to bite you," says the snake. "That's the way I work. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine."
"You bit me to help me? Why aren't I thirsty anymore? Did you give me a drink before you bit me? How did I drink enough while unconscious to not be thirsty anymore? I haven't had a drink for over two days. Well, except for the windshield wiper fluid... hold it, how in the world does a snake talk? Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?"
"No," says the snake, "I'm real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. I didn't give you a drink. I bit you. That's how it works, it's what I do. I bite. Plus I don't have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water just sitting around here."
The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he was, sitting in the middle of the desert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn't, talking to a snake that could talk back and had just bitten him. And he felt better. Not great - he was still starving and exhausted, but much better - he was no longer thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but only slightly. He felt hot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and the cool stone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that he was no longer dying of thirst.
"I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in your system with the next request," continued the snake. "I can guess why you drank it, but I'm not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol was left in the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It'll make you go blind in a day or two, if you drank enough of it."
"Ummm, n-next request?" said the man. He put his hand back on his hurting shoulder and backed away from the snake a little.
"That's the way it works. If you like, that is," explained the snake. "You get three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish." The snake grinned at his own joke, and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs.
"But there are rules," the snake continued. "The first request is free. The second requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding of responsibility." The snake looks at the man seriously.
"By the way," the snake says suddenly, "my name is Nathan. Old Nathan, Samuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Bound used to just call me 'Snake'. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn't stand for it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big into names. You can call me Nate, if you wish." Again, the snake grinned. "Sorry if I don't offer to shake, but I think you can understand - my shake sounds somewhat threatening." The snake give his rattle a little shake.
"Umm, my name is Jack," said the man, trying to absorb all of this. "Jack Samson."
"Can I ask you a question?" Jack says suddenly. "What happened to the venom...umm, in your bite. Why aren't I dying now? How did you do that? What do you mean by that's how you work?"
"That's more than one question," grins Nate. "But I'll still try to answer all of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question." The snake's grin gets wider. "Second, the venom is in you. It changed you. You now no longer need to drink. That's what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you asked to not be thirsty any more - but 'any more' is such a vague term. I decided to make it permanent - now, as long as you live, you shouldn't need to drink much at all. Your body will conserve water very efficiently. You should be able to get enough just from the food you eat - much like a creature of the desert. You've been changed.
"For the third question," Nate continues, "you are still dying. Besides the effects of that methanol in your system, you're a man - and men are mortal. In your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years. Assuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is." Nate seemed vastly amused at his own humor, and continued his wide grin.
"As for the fourth question," Nate said, looking more serious as far as Jack could tell, as Jack was just now working on his ability to read talking-snake emotions from snake facial features, "first you have to agree to make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can't tell you."
"Wait," joked Jack, "isn't this where you say you could tell me, but you'd have to kill me?"
"I thought that was implied." Nate continued to look serious.
"Ummm...yeah." Jack leaned back a little as he remembered again that he was talking to a fifteen foot venomous reptile with a reputation for having a nasty temper. "So, what is this 'Bound by Secrecy' stuff, and can you really stop the effects of the methanol?" Jack thought for a second. "And, what do you mean methanol, anyway? I thought these days they use ethanol in wiper fluid, and just denature it?"
"They may, I don't really know," said Nate. "I haven't gotten out in a while. Maybe they do. All I know is that I smell methanol on your breath and on that bottle in your pocket. And the blue color of the liquid when you pulled it out to drink some let me guess that it was wiper fluid. I assume that they still color wiper fluid blue?"
"Yeah, they do," said Jack.
"I figured," replied Nate. "As for being bound by secrecy - with the fulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothing about me, this place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, when you decide to go back out to your kind. You won't be allowed to talk about me, write about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way that will lead someone to guess correctly about me. You'll be bound to secrecy. Of course, I'll also ask you to promise not to give me away, and as I'm guessing that you're a man of your word, you'll never test the binding anyway, so you won't notice." Nate said the last part with utter confidence.
Jack, who had always prided himself on being a man of his word, felt a little nervous at this. "Ummm, hey, Nate, who are you? How did you know that? Are you, umm, omniscient, or something?"
Well, Jack," said Nate sadly, "I can't tell you that, unless you make the second request." Nate looked away for a minute, then looked back.
"Umm, well, ok," said Jack, "what is this about a second request? What can I ask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?"
"Sure!" said Nate, brightening. "You're allowed to ask for changes. Changes to yourself. They're like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, and before you ask, I can't give you immortality. Or omniscience. Or omnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make you gaseous and yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphere and sort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be - you still wouldn't be omniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Not very useful, at least in my opinion." Nate stopped when he realized that Jack was staring at him.
"Well, anyway," continued Nate, "I'd probably suggest giving you permanent good health. It would negate the methanol now in your system, you'd be immune to most poisons and diseases, and you'd tend to live a very long time, barring accident, of course. And you'll even have a tendency to recover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good choice for a request to me."
"Cure the methanol poisoning, huh?" said Jack. "And keep me healthy for a long time? Hmmm. It doesn't sound bad at that. And it has to be a request about a change to me? I can't ask to be rich, right? Because that's not really a change to me?"
"Right," nodded Nate.
"Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?" Jack asked, hopefully.
"That takes two requests, Jack."
"Yeah, I figured so," said Jack. "But I could ask to be a genius? I could become the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?"
"Well, I could make you very smart," admitted Nate, "but that wouldn't necessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could make you very athletic, but it wouldn't necessarily make you the best athlete either. You've heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there's some truth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can't make you work hard. It all depends on what you decide to do with it."
"Hmmm," said Jack. "Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request, after this one?"
"Maybe," said Nate, "it depends on what you decide then. There are more rules for the third request that I can only tell you about after the second request. You know how it goes." Nate looked like he'd shrug, if he had shoulders.
"Ok, well, since I'd rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanent health doesn't sound bad, then consider that my second request. Officially. Do I need to sign in blood or something?"
"No," said Nate. "Just hold out your hand. Or heel." Nate grinned. "Or whatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like I said, that's how it works - the venom, you know," Nate said apologetically.
Jack winced a little and felt his shoulder, where the last bite was. Hey, it didn't hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made Jack feel better about the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteen foot snake sunk it's fangs into you. Jack stood up. Ignoring how good it felt to be able to stand again, and the hunger starting to gnaw at his stomach, Jack tried to decide where he wanted to get bitten. Despite knowing that it wouldn't hurt for long, Jack knew that this wasn't going to be easy.
"Hey, Jack," Nate suddenly said, looking past Jack towards the dunes behind him, "is that someone else coming up over there?"
Jack spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle of nowhere? And did they bring food?
Wait a minute, there was nobody over there. What was Nate...
Jack let out a bellow as he felt two fangs sink into his rear end, through his jeans...
Jack sat down carefully, favoring his more tender buttock. "I would have decided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn't have to hoodwink me like that."
"I've been doing this a long time, Jack," said Nate, confidently. "You humans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you - especially one my size. And besides, admit it - it's only been a couple of minutes and it already doesn't hurt any more, does it? That's because of the health benefit with this one.

Jesus performed no miracles, no resurrections, prophesied nothing, no revelations, not even rapture, But he could read and write & I got the receipts.
I find it odd that our trusted Christian church leaders,both true blue & lipstick varieties, are quick to assert Christ’s illiteracy while attributing all sorts of magical nonsense to his name. How you gonna elevate this guy to god-tier status, yet preach he can’t read? Of course God reads, reads great!writes great too! Jesus according to Christians is the real deal, the whole Enchilda, the Beginning and the End, the Alpha & the Omega, yet also according to them he can’t write Alpha or Omega. That’s crazy thinking, blasphemy even, all the best stuff in the Bible was written by Jesus.
Receipts?
Jesus Christ (Didymus Judas Thomas) authored The Gospel of Thomas.
Read here the opening lines of The Gospel of Thomas (Leloup Translation)…
“These are the words of the Secret. They were revealed by the Living Yeshua. Didymus Judas Thomas wrote them down.”
Note the unusual use of the word “revealed” here in place of common language you’ll find of “said/spoken”.
The unusual doubling of the Twin generic descriptor, sandwiching the common Judas name.
Didymus = Twin (Greek) Judas = Name Thomas = Twin (Aramaic)
Judas, according to the Bible, was a brother & devoted servant of Jesus Christ (Mark 6:3; Matt 13:55; Jude 1). His twin (Acts of Thomas). The spiritual (divine) Christ paired to the physical (human) Judas. Jesus WAS Judas. In the Gospel of Thomas there were no miracles, no resurrections. Jesus predicted no future events, he was no prophet, no revelations or rapture. All prophesy attributed (falsely) to Jesus was culled from the Hebrew OT and retrofitted as Roman propaganda to co-opt, conflate & corrupt Judaism w/ the upstart Jesus’ movement, neatly consolidating control of both under Rome, effectively killing 2 birds with 1 stone.
So how then did Jesus know Judas would betray him? Simple, he (Jesus/Judas) turned himself in & cut a deal with Pilate to fake crucifixion avoiding further unrest in the Jewish population (exactly what you would hope for & expect from a Jesus). The deal was after the crucifix fake-out Jesus would bounce & so he did becoming St.Thomas/St.Jude traveling far & wide, converting about a billion more ppl to Christianity before dying in his 100s.
A few additional odds & ends that support this info above (greatly abridged for time).

1. NT Jude 1:1 identifying Judas as a brother to James but a “servant” of Jesus.
   
2. The apocryphal Gospel of Barnabas (apostle of Jesus), Ch. 216 - Judas takes on appearance of Jesus, later crucified in Jesus’ place.
   
3. St. Jude is often depicted wearing a a giant medallion around his neck with the life-sized head of Jesus on it, that’s 2000 yrs before modern rappers made this a thing & fashionable. They literally got Jude walking around, spreading Christ’s word “wearing the face of Jesus”. The truth hidden in plain sight.
   

Hi. My name is Dylan. I am a 22 yo male from the USA (Pennsylvania) who wants to talk to someone cute but real. Forever alone? No. Just really admittedly lonely.
Little more about me:
- 5’9 caucasian, 185lbs, brown eyes, brown hair
- I like working out, listening to music, playing video games, going on walks, and talking about deep topics
- I use What’sApp, Discord, and Snapchat besides Reddit

I didn't even know body swapping was real until I found this sub. After researching the posts here, I think this might explain what I have been experiencing. You guys are the experts, so I figured you could help me figure this out.
A bit of backstory I should share. I am 35 years old and have been married to my wife Diana (32) for ten years. I know we married pretty young but we were raised Christian and in the South. It's common here.
I work in a high-up position at an electrical company and get paid enough to support our two kids (8 and 5) Diana sells homemade soap for extra money but her focus is on taking care of the kids.
We live rather conservative lives but that doesn't mean we are complete stereotypes for example, I am a big fan of heavy metal.
Which takes us to where I believe this all began.
For my 35 birthday, Diana surprised me with tickets to my favorite metal band. She was hardly a fan of that kind of music but wanted to go with me and experience it together as she is a big fan of live music and is part of our church choir.
So we left the kids under the watch of my mother-in-law and headed out to the city. It was funny how much Diana stood out, wearing a long dress that showed no skin. The rest of the women there had piercings, tattoos, and wore fishnets and all black.
It was an amazing show and a ton of fun. Diana was a little stiff at first but as the show went she loosed up and started dancing despite not being familiar with the songs.
When it was over we went to a hotel. I thanked her for the gift and kissed her. Typically after a night like this, she would be too tired for sex. I was fine with that. I didn't expect her to do anything just because it was my birthday but as soon as we were in the hotel she started taking off her clothes. I told her we didn't have to do anything but she insisted.
It was a great end to an amazing night.
In the morning we went home.
I started working same as normal with her focused on the kids at home.
But it was ever since then that she started changing. It started with me catching her listening to and singing along with metal songs. I assume that night had just given her a better application for the genre.
But then I came home one day to find out she cut her hair. Her long pretty brown hair, long since she was a child was now a short bob. It was shocking but a good look so I didn't say anything but told her it looked good.
Then she started getting tattoos, rapidly. In two months her whole left arm was inked. And her outfits were changing. She started wearing fishnets, big black boots, t-shirts of emo bands I never knew she liked, dark lipstick, and eyeliner.
She even started lifting weights. And despite almost never cursing the whole decade we were married, she became foul-mouthed even using the Lord's name in vain.
She was good at acting like her normal Christian self at church though and she still did a great job with the kids.
Despite all of this I just figured it was just her naturally changing and branching out a bit from how she was raised but the biggest changes happened just this month.
I was taking a week's break from work and Diana wanted her own break so she went on a trip with some girls I didn't know but she claimed she was friends with online? I let it go and used the time to spend time with the kids.
But when she came back I hardly recognized her. One-half of her hair was shaved the other long and dyed bleach blonde. A nose ring and her lips were subtly pumped up. Her breasts were enhanced as well with pierced nipples too.
I finally confronted her about her changes. But it had already been a while since we had sex. She wore a sleeveless shirt that showed off her new muscles.
“What have you become?” I asked.
She smiled. “Like it?”
I shook my head. “No. This isn't the woman I married.”
She lowered herself to her knees and touched my thigh. “Really? This little guy seems to like it.”
She was right I was rock hard.
You might expect her new appearance to mean she was dominant in bed now. But no. She was still submissive but started taunting me now. Bent over with her ass to me. “Come on, big boy. Be a man and show your wife who's boss.”
After that, I stopped complaining. People give her weird looks. Some of my friends question it. We stick out in church events But I really do like this new side of her. I think I love her more than ever.
(Oh, and this morning she could me she was going to quit selling soap and start selling feet pics to pervs online...)
But when I found this sub I can't help but wonder. Is this really her or did her body get stolen back at the show? Who was it? The young emo boy who was behind us? The fat guy who stood beside me? One of the girls? Or was it some quick moment before the show began?
How could I find the real her? Did she try contacting me and I didn't even notice?
What do you guys think? What should I do?