Honda ridgeline for sale near me

/r/Honda - for the love of all things Honda & Acura

2009.04.19 06:12 hax0r /r/Honda - for the love of all things Honda & Acura

Honda & Acura enthusiasts.

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2014.03.17 18:05 pete716 Honda Ridgeline

For the love of all things Honda Ridgeline.

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2015.09.23 18:30 Chappssss For all things CB500

For all things CB500! Mods, appearance, maintenance, general discussion, pictures, etc.

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2023.05.28 22:12 scrambled-satellite Relapsing into restriction fml

So I’ve somehow relapsed into pretty deep restriction again and still at a “normal” weight but lying to everyone about how fast I’m losing & nearly fainting every time I stand, getting horribly irritable, feeling just drained and drinking so much caffeine. My joints and muscles all hurt again and I know if I keep going again I might not make it this time after I almost didn’t make it last November. I can’t afford another hospital visit and I know I need to stop restricting but I just keep getting so excited about losing and I keep feeling delusional about stopping once I get to this new GW I have when I know I won’t.
Im running a race I was training for MONTHS for finally tomorrow and I’m so scared I’m going to DNF. I want to eat tonight but I’ve already been fucking restricting so hard this weekend and I’ve sabotaged my carb loading window horribly. I’ve planned a regular sized dinner so I’m hoping that can carry me through tomorrow.
I feel like an awful person for lying to my treatment team, my family, and mostly my boyfriend about committing to recovery. I feel like I can’t be honest about restricting or I’m gonna let them all down. Everything feels out of control and Im just not sure how to actually stick with recovery and stop switching around ED habits to cope with life.

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2023.05.28 22:10 Salacious_Crumbs_ WTS - F5.5, JHO #22, Kizer Drop Bear, Boker Damascus Gent 2, Ti EDS II tool

Thinning the heard. Five items for sale. PayPal G&S. First owner on all these.
Pictures and timestamp here: https://imgur.com/a/FJNDh4e

Urban EDC F5.5 od green micarta. Factory edge. Perfect action and centered. Rarely used. Comes with original soft taco case and box. SV: $175
Kizer Drop Bear black aluminum and satin. Solid hair splitting edge. No box/case. This Drop Bear sadly got dropped on the sidewalk. Some dings near the pivots. See pics. Perfect action and locking mechanism. SV: $65
JHO #22. Beautiful knife. Rarely used or carried. Excellent condition. I think he is no longer producing these. Not super motivated to sell this one. SV: $225
Boker Plus Damascus Gent II. Brand new in box. SV: $80
Big Idea Ti EDS II bit driver. Retail for $120. Will include a Wiha hex T8 and T^ bit. Unused + brand new in box. I just never found a use or need to carry this. SV: $90

YOLO trumps chat. OBO. Deals on bundles for sure. $550 if you want the entire lot.

submitted by Salacious_Crumbs_ to Knife_Swap [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:10 cornwallnudist safe/considerate distances on a non-nude beach

I thought about this idea this afternoon. The beach I usually use isn't an official nude beach, but it is massive - 6 miles long and plenty of room for everyone. The beach is about 60 metres deep at low tide. People do sit up near the entrance, I tend to walk at least half a mile down the beach and usually have the place to myself bar beach walkers.
I wondered what other's thoughts might be about safe/considerate distances if people are walking past and I wanted to skinny dip. If my tent is 60 metres from the water then it is 120 metres there and back. So anyone at the end of the first set of black lines would meet me at the waters edge. Anyone at the end of the second set of black lines would see me diving back into the tent when they are perpendicular to the tent, anyone at the edge of the third set of black lines would be at the end of the second set once I'd got back to my tent.
Clearly none of them are ideal, so actually I probably need to weigh up a further distance away if they are walking towards me. 360 metres, at least? Going away from me.... at the 120 metre mark?
Similarly if people are sitting - how close is too close?
The thinking is how near is OK to be seen (as in the shape of a nude person) but far enough away that they can't really "see anything". In the past I've worried about being seen and then later "realised" the person is a dot in the distance and probably over a mile (1.6km) away!
Any thoughts welcome please.
https://preview.redd.it/tbm9isklmm2b1.jpg?width=1531&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=512f97ca2b1a6618385ab879aed0c1a25d4ed3d5

submitted by cornwallnudist to nudism [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:10 AutoModerator Iman Gadzhi Courses (bundle here)

Contact me if you are interested in Iman Gadzhi Courses by chatting me on +44 759 388 2116 on Telegram/Whatsapp.
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2023.05.28 22:10 AutoModerator Agency Navigator by Iman Gadzhi (Here)

Contact me to get Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator by chatting me on +44 759 388 2116 on Telegram/Whatsapp.
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The topics inside Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator course include:

Agency Navigator course Core Curriculum
Custom E-Learning Platform For Agency Owners
Financial Planner, Revenue Calculator, Outreach Tracker & More Tools
Websites Templates, Funnels, Ads & More
Template Contracts, Sales Scripts, Agreements & More

The lessons in Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator will teach you how to:
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Reddit DM to u/RequestCourseAccess
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2023.05.28 22:10 AutoModerator Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator (Top Course)

Agency Navigator course Core Curriculum
Custom E-Learning Platform For Agency Owners
Financial Planner, Revenue Calculator, Outreach Tracker & More Tools
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2023.05.28 22:10 AutoModerator [Complete] Iman Gadzhi - Agency Incubator

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2023.05.28 22:10 DrashaZImmortal What do consultation agents do in down time?

Prolly a bit of a weird question but as the title says, what do they do when theres no customers around? The local bestbuy near me often seems to be reather slow, especially on geek squad side. So seeing a CA without anyone up a the desk to help is fairly common. From waht iv been told they dont really do much of the actual fixing, thats done by other agents, so if thats the case.. what do they do when the store is empty/dead ? Do you just vibe and do some paper work, have things to fix behind the desk or something? Or is it just kinda brain off, wait for someone to give you something to do?

submitted by DrashaZImmortal to GeekSquad [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:10 AutoModerator Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator (New)

Agency Navigator course Core Curriculum
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- Starting Your Agency
- Finding Leads
- Signing Clients
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- Managing Client Communication...
...and much, much more!
To get Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator contact me on:
Whatsapp/Telegram: +44 759 388 2116
Reddit DM to u/RequestCourseAccess
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2023.05.28 22:10 AutoModerator [Latest] Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator

Agency Navigator course Core Curriculum
Custom E-Learning Platform For Agency Owners
Financial Planner, Revenue Calculator, Outreach Tracker & More Tools
Websites Templates, Funnels, Ads & More
Template Contracts, Sales Scripts, Agreements & More

The lessons in Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator will teach you how to:
- Starting Your Agency
- Finding Leads
- Signing Clients
- Getting Paid
- Onboarding Clients
- Managing Client Communication...
...and much, much more!
To get Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator contact me on:
Whatsapp/Telegram: +44 759 388 2116
Reddit DM to u/RequestCourseAccess
Email: silverlakestore[@]yandex.com (remove the brackets)

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2023.05.28 22:09 r_mail Weird neurological/immunological covid19 complications that get worse over time

Hello all,
I`m experiencing autoimmune conditions with symptoms lasting years after COVID-19 illness. I have not received treatment for my illness in my country, nor have I had a diagnosis, as it is not a deep diagnosis is not available in my home country. It could be cross-reactivity, but it has not been diagnosed yet. The first relapse happened in November of 2020, at the same time with covid symptoms. Before it, I've never had anything like this. None of these symptoms happened before.

I need help with diagnosing (especially in the field of immunology), links to similar cases, additional tests that could shed light on the situation, and contacts of doctors and researchers who might be interested.
I`ve emailed Dr. Corbett, lji.org, Dr. Thomas Brannagan, and a couple more doctors, but nobody replied to me so far. I am currently not a resident of the United States, and I am wondering what options are available to me. Here is the list of the symptoms I developed:
Neurology-related symptoms:
Hypoesthesia:
1. Total loss of erogenous sensitivity of nipples (after the relapse in 01.2021), glans frenulum (after the relapse in 05.2021), glans penis and anus (after the relapse in 09.2021)
2. Pain sensitivity of the specified areas is also decreased by around 50%, but not lost completely.

Several drops of urine or semen (3-4 drops per 3-4 times) are excreted from the urethra in 15-20 minutes after urination or ejaculation.
Periodical muscle twitches (arms, hands, legs, feet, face muscles - eyebrows, cheeks, left ear)
Allodynia (after weak symptoms and relapses, rarely - without any cause). Lasts for 1-2 days, then disappears.

6.Non-stop tinnitus (high-pitched noise) - since the relapse in 04.2023

Paresthesia, specifically burning/cold sensation around the right ankle (after the relapse in 10.2021, faded away in the spring of 2022, appeared again in 05.2023)

I've noticed a gradual decrease in my sense of smell. At first, I noticed a decrease in my sensitivity to isopropyl alcohol, which began about a year ago. However, since March 2023, I've noticed a decrease in my sensitivity to all smells, although not equally. Some smells, like isopropyl alcohol, smegma, and sweat, have almost completely vanished. However, the smell of fruits is almost unaffected.
Over time, there is a gradual decrease in the sense of taste, resulting in less flavor with the same amount of tea.
Symptoms that happened but disappeared after some time:
I experienced a tickling sensation near my left shoulder blade after a relapse in July 2021. However, it gradually faded away by the fall of 2022.
Intense pain under the nails of both hands (like I hit all of them with something heavy - it was painful even to scratch my head) - happened after the relapse in July of 2022, and faded away in 2 weeks. Also happened 3 times in the winter of 2023, and faded away in 1 week each time.
Frequent and strong biceps twitches occur around 40 times per minute. This happened after a relapse in the autumn of 2022, but the twitches gradually subsided within 2-3 weeks. Periodical non-voluntary bladder muscle contractions, like an urge to urinate - was in December of 2022, and faded away in 3 weeks.
Immunology-related symptoms:
Reaction on human excretions: exhaled air, sweat, saliva, etc.
On contact with these substances, depending on the amount of the "allergen" a relapse or weak symptoms happens.
Weak symptoms - pain (like weak needle stick in muscles in arms, hands, legs, feet, near shoulder blades). Lasts for 2-4 hours. After it, allodynia happens (but not always)
Relapse - long buzzing of legs muscles, long whining pains in the legs and feet. Lasts from 6 hours to 1 day. After the relapse, allodynia (lasts around 1-2 days) and some permanent worsening happens. Also, the appetite is decreased during the relapse and for some time after it.
How did I check whether it's psychosomatic or not:
Two plastic bottles. One of them is being touched by another person. I don't see which one exactly was touched. After it, I grab a random bottle and sniff it, then I come back to my room and wait for symptoms to appear.
After several hours I can tell if I have any symptoms and can recognize which bottle did I grab - "clean"(untouched) or not. I have taken this test 5 and 20 times. The match was 100 percent and 95, respectively.
Consuming food made by other person's hands causes a relapse in almost 100% of cases.
But if the food is heated for ~30 minutes at the temperature of 100 C (212 F) and above - it becomes "safe"
When I apply dexamethasone 0.1% solution to my eyes, nose, and mouth, I can interact with others in-person without experiencing any symptoms or relapse for several hours.
Doing the same without dexamethasone causes symptoms even if I stay 0.5 meters away from another human for 1-2 minutes.
Analyses, checks
In November of 2022, I did a blood check in CellTrend for autoantibodies, the positive result is 11 of 18. In some cases, the value is 3x..5x compared to the reference value.
Besides this, I've done several MRIs (brain, spinal cord, also with contrast), ENMG, and a lot of blood tests (including antineuronal antibodies and antibodies to myelin). I did an evoked somatosensory potentials test. The conclusion:
On tibial nerve stimulation, the response from intumescentia lumbosacralis is not detected from the left and from the right, and from the cortex somatosensory lower limbs representation, the response is not detected from the right and from the right.
On the dermatome innervated by the pudendal nerve, response from intumescentia lumbosacralis isnt clearly detected; from the cortex representation - is not detected.
So, abnormal results - antibodies from CellTrend, CIC (80 and 120 units when normal value is <20), Evoked Potentials.
There was a hypothesis that it was mast cell activation syndrome. But I did a tryptase level check during weak symptoms, and it shows a normal tryptase level (4.5, normal value is 0.11)
I have visited a psychiatrist several times per year since 2006 (a major depressive disorder in the autumn of 2006). After these symptoms started, I got treatment with several antidepressants but none of them provided any noticeable improvement.

My stats:
M, 37
180 cm, 80 kg
Dont smoke, dont use alcohol, dont use drugs
Health problems before this happened:
Major depressive disorder if 2006, gastritis in 2016

submitted by r_mail to medical_advice [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:09 AutoModerator Iman Gadzhi's Agency Navigator (Complete Course)

Agency Navigator course Core Curriculum
Custom E-Learning Platform For Agency Owners
Financial Planner, Revenue Calculator, Outreach Tracker & More Tools
Websites Templates, Funnels, Ads & More
Template Contracts, Sales Scripts, Agreements & More

The lessons in Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator will teach you how to:
- Starting Your Agency
- Finding Leads
- Signing Clients
- Getting Paid
- Onboarding Clients
- Managing Client Communication...
...and much, much more!
To get Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator contact me on:
Whatsapp/Telegram: +44 759 388 2116
Reddit DM to u/RequestCourseAccess
Email: silverlakestore[@]yandex.com (remove the brackets)

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2023.05.28 22:09 hopeful_holder [FS][USA][RING] Moissanite 7.5mm Brilliant Round Halo 14k Yellow Gold Ring Size US 6.5

Brand New- Only worn three times. The ring is a hidden halo with a starburst design of moissanite surrounding the larger center moissanite. It was made custom for me by a jeweler on Etsy, KTRingCrafts. He was excellent to work with so if you ever want a custom ring, I would recommend him!
I love this ring dearly but unfortunately, circumstances have changed and now we're unexpectedly moving across the country. A ring can be replaced but not the experiences along the way. I hope the next owner will love this ring as much as I do!
The original purchase price of this ring was $749 USD plus taxes for a total of $787.07. It was custom made I am hoping to sell it for $650 (includes shipping, the ring and the box). Please message if interested. All sales final.

submitted by hopeful_holder to u/hopeful_holder [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:08 Jmint12 [WTS] Ruger 57 magazine lot, Vortex Spitfire, MI folding stock

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/BLONoCX
Howdy my dudes. Please buy this stuff. All prices are shipped. Paypal F&F preferred.
Ruger 57 20-rounds magazines & Lee Dies - $250
You're buying all 11 of the magazines and the set of Lee 5.7x28 dies. The magazines are used. I probably used each 3-4 times. The dies are brand new, never used. I will dig out the instructions for the dies and will include.

Vortex Spitfire - $100

Used. I had it mounted on a 10/22. Has some sale from getting bounced around in the safe. Is missing the front cap. No mount spacer. I had it mounted as low as i could.

Midwest Industries Lightweight side folding stock - $115

Purchased from Brownells a little over a week ago. I mounted it on a rifle and then pulled it off. Never used during a range trip. I paid $130 +Shipping and Tax at Brownells.
Pics: https://imgur.com/a/BLONoCX

Ask questions. Make offers. Hit me with that sweet, sweet Ruger 57 copypasta.

submitted by Jmint12 to GunAccessoriesForSale [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:08 CIAHerpes My father always kept the shed locked. Today, I found out why (part 1)

Growing up, I remember it all vividly: any time my friends or I got too close to the shed, my dad would come out hollering and yelling, telling us to stay away from there and that it was no place for kids. He told me he had expensive tools and dangerous chemicals stored there. As a child, I didn’t question it. It was just one of those things. In my mind, I had been born into a world where the sun rises in the east, breakfast is the first meal of the day and the shed stays locked. They were all true, self-evident and simply the way things existed in my young mind.
But as I grew older and eventually moved off to college, I began to question the shed more. My father still wouldn’t let me look in there. In fact, he kept the sole key on his person at all times. Even when he slept, he would keep the key in his pocket.
Then, during my second semester at the nearby state university in the spring of 2021, I got a call that every son or daughter dreads. I was attending a lecture on anatomy when my phone lit up, ringing silently in the great, crowded hall. Looking down, I saw it was my brother’s number. I went outside, lighting up a cigarette and answering it.
“Hello?” I said. “Gil?” My brother answered immediately.
“Luke, thank God you answered,” he said. “It’s dad. He’s being taken to the hospital. He had some sort of medical emergency. Can you meet us there? In maybe twenty-five minutes?” I said I would, hanging up. I grabbed my stuff in the lecture hall and made my way to my car. Twenty-two minutes later, I pulled into the hospital.
It was too late, however. My father had died of a heart attack on the way. He was declared dead on arrival.
***
We ended up inheriting the house. Our mother had died of breast cancer ten years earlier, so Gil and I were the last two of the Mortin bloodline. My brother was a good guy, though somewhat of a waste case, constantly smoking weed and dropping acid. He had a tendency to travel out far across the country without notice, moving around to see nature or go to music festivals. That is, when he had the money. And since he worked as a freelance writer, he was often broke.
He really wanted to get at the money dad had left us. He wanted the money from the house most of all. He told me repeatedly that it would be enough to tide him over until he got a footing in the writing industry, that he just needed to make a name for himself and then the money would start rolling in. He had his heart set on it. He would write anything that he could make money off of, from horror stories to romances, short stories to novels, even technical manuals or freelance journalism articles. As we walked to the house together for the first time in months, he repeated this mantra to me again: “Just enough to tide me over, Luke…”
“I think you’re probably going to burn through the money that Dad left you,” I said. “Why don’t you get a real job and just write on the side?” He gave me a sideways look.
“Did you see Hunter S. Thompson getting a ‘real job’ while just writing on the side?” he asked. I nodded.
“Yeah, he was a journalist…” I began as we walked into the house, but we both stopped simultaneously when we saw what was on the coffee table. It was all of Dad’s possessions he had when he died. They were placed neatly in a line- his wallet, his phone, his car and house key, some cash, and last of all, a little shed key on a thin, leather chain.
“What do you think is really in that shed?” I asked. Gil looked at me, pale and wide-eyed in the dark living room.
“I don’t really… I don’t know if I want to find out,” Gil said, whispering as if he were in a church- or a funeral home. I put my hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.
“Of course we need to find out,” I said. “You and I own this property now. We should go look right now.” He breathed in sharply.
“No, no, don’t be an idiot,” Gil whispered. “It’s dark now. In the morning, we can go together. In the morning. You have waited twenty years to find out, I think you can wait a few more hours.” But there was something pleading in his voice, something scared and child-like. It reminded me of when I was scared as a little boy at bedtime, telling my dad there were monsters in the closet, and he would go to open up the door, and I’d tell him to stop, that they’re going to hurt him if he opens that door. But he would open the door and there would be no monsters in there. Surely, it was the same here. Gil would see, and for that matter, so would I. There were no monsters in there.
***
Gil stayed up late downstairs, watching TV and smoking a joint. He made himself a night-cap from my father’s liquor cabinet, pouring some Jack Daniels and ice in a cup with some Coke and sipping it slowly. I stayed with him for a while, talking.
We talked about the good times we had with Dad, about going hiking with him at the Green Mountains, or traveling to New York City with him to see the museums. I thought about how much I really missed him, and a knot formed in my throat. I quickly blinked my eyes to try to get the tears to go away.
Eventually, I went to sleep in the guest bedroom. Gil stayed downstairs, sleeping on the couch in front of the TV. I heard the faint hum of it from upstairs, the canned laughter of whatever comedy he was watching, the acerbic tone of the lead characters as they delivered one witty joke after another. I fell asleep to it, the voices blending into a sarcastic, hissing whisper in my ear.
And then I was floating, bodiless, looking down on a dark cornfield with ravens staring at me. The voice was bodiless, too, sounding like it came from right behind me, but when I turned, nothing was there.
“In the halls of our fathers, everyone is dead,” it whispered mockingly. “You’ll be dead soon too, if you get curious. Some doors are locked for a reason. Some doors should stay locked.”
I woke up suddenly. Something was wrong. I heard Gil yelling. I fumbled around in the dark for the lamp, groggily checking the time. 4:17 AM. Flinging the comforters off, I ran downstairs.
Gil was sleeping on the couch, still as a corpse, and quiet as one too. I looked around confusedly. Where was the screaming coming from? I followed the noise out back. I looked at the shed, and my blood ran cold as I heard another long cry come from inside. I walked across the dirt yard in my slippers, not wanting to get any closer but walking forwards nonetheless. Part of me wondered if I was still dreaming, but the chill air against my sweaty face felt real enough.
The screaming from the shed was not in words. It was a long, drawn-out, painful shriek. It was the shriek of a mother who just lost her only child in a war zone, or the yell of someone doused with gasoline and burned alive, but amplified into an ear-splitting cacophony. I had the key in my pocket. I reached for it with shaking hands, pulling it out, slowly approaching the shed.
Then someone grabbed my shoulder. I jumped, whirling around with clenched fists, ready to fight. Then I saw it was Gil.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” I said through clenched teeth. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He put his finger to his lips, the universal signal for silence. Then he leaned close to my ear and whispered.
“If you open that shed now, we will both die,” he said quietly and calmly, as if he were just stating the weather for tomorrow. “Put the key away and go back to bed. You never want to open it in the dark. Never.”
“What do you know about it?” I whispered back, shooting glances over my shoulder at the shed. The screaming still came, though slower now, maybe one heart-rending shriek every minute or so. Part of me was glad there were no neighbors for half a mile in each direction, and that made me want to laugh. There was probably some horrific animal in there that would rip me apart if it got the chance, and I was thinking about noise complaints.
“Tomorrow,” Gil repeated, gently taking my arm and leading me back into the house. I sat next to him in the living room, pouring myself a gin and tonic, sipping it slowly as the screams from behind the house mixed with the canned laughter of the TV show, wondering what kind of man my father really was.
***
I woke on the couch, an empty glass falling out of my hand onto the cushion. Light streamed in through the windows. Gil was nowhere to be found. I looked back and forth, then heard the sizzling of food from the kitchen.
Stumbling in, I saw he had prepared a massive breakfast of bacon, sausages, corned beef hash, eggs Benedict with Hollandaise sauce, Texas toast, orange juice and coffee. He was smoking a joint with the windows opened, occasionally sending a grim look out the back of the house towards the shed. I sat down, pouring myself some coffee and grabbing milk and sugar to mix in.
“Who is all this food for?” I asked. He kept staring out the window. “Hey!” He turned suddenly, his face looking pale and drawn.
“What?”
“I said, who is all this food for?” I repeated. He looked around, smiling.
“Just for us. Why not? I figure you will need the energy today, and so will I,” he said cryptically. He sat down across from me, pouring himself coffee and orange juice and grabbing a plateful of meat, toast and eggs. I did the same, giving him occasional glances.
“What did Dad tell you?” I asked, pouring maple syrup on my sausages and bacon and chugging an entire cup of coffee in one long swallow. It burned my throat, but the rising heat and caffeine made me feel instantly better and more awake. Gil sighed heavily.
“Not much, to tell you the truth,” he said. “He was really drunk one time when you were away at college, a couple months ago. He was drinking more and more before he died, like something was weighing on him, something he wanted to forget. Well, anyway, I was sitting down here with him, watching those documentaries he used to love with him, and during a commercial, he just started talking about the shed.
“‘Now boy,’ he said to me, ‘I know you probably have a few questions for me. I probably should have told you and your brother about it a long time ago, but it is something I don’t like to talk about. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. I think talking about it tends to wake it up.’
“‘Wake up what?’ I said. Dad was quiet for a long time, just staring at me. Then he leaned close to me and whispered something strange.
“‘The stairs,’ he said. ‘They’re not normal, son. Sometimes they go down below the shed to a… Well, I guess it is just an empty sub-floor. Just a plain, swept dirt basement below the shed. But I never built any such sub-floor, and it wasn’t here when I bought the house, and it isn’t on the plans either. If that was it, then who would care? Hah, a free storage place, people would be happy, right?’ I nodded, grinning back at Dad. He seemed to have a glimmer of his old self for a second, happy and free. But then his face darkened again.
“‘But lots of times, boy, those stairs do not lead to a sub-floor. One time, they led down to a white room covered in blood, with bright fluorescent lights flickering all over the walls and ceiling. And there was a little girl down there, dancing among all the blood, jumping and twirling in her little blue dress, little ballerina slippers on her feet, and all the skin on her face peeled off. She was just a bloody, grinning skull. And when she saw me on the spiral steps in the corner, she stopped dancing and just stared. The lights began to turn off, everything went dark, and I ran, my boy, I ran faster than I have ever run in my life. I felt little hands grabbing at me as I made my way up the last stair and slammed that shed door behind me. I locked it as something fought to get out, something that felt far stronger than any child. And that was just one time.
“‘It’s worse at night. That’s when the real dangerous ones come out. I don’t know how the stairs work, son, and I don’t think I ever really want to. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll never have to deal with them. Maybe I’ll find a way to destroy them before I die. Aye, maybe…’” Gil stopped speaking, deep in thought and remembrance. I took another sip of juice and ate some bacon before responding.
“So you’re telling me Dad went batshit crazy before he died?” I asked. Gil shook his head quickly.
“He wasn’t crazy, Luke,” he said simply. “At least, I don’t think he was. If he was, the stairs probably made him that way. Do you really think that you were just hearing a fox or something caught in the shed last night? Those screams sounded human. We both know that was something unnatural. But I wouldn’t worry if I were you. If you need proof, we’ll have plenty after today- assuming you still want to go into the shed.” And after we finished eating, with no fanfare or delay, we did. I grabbed the key, and Gil and I went out side by side, scared but not showing it, ready to finally see for ourselves the mystery that had haunted our family for decades.
***
We walked through the hard-packed dirt yard, looking down the grassy field behind the house to the rolling hills that stretched as far as the eye could see. They began to grow blue, pale and fuzzy near the horizon. It was a beautiful place to live, and hard to imagine something so evil might be right in the middle of it.
The shed loomed up ahead of us, boards tightly hammered together and freshly painted a dark red color. The shingles on the small roof all looked relatively new, and the door was expensive and sturdy. I stood in front of the door, listening for the sounds of any movement, but there was nothing. I fumbled in my pocket for the key, pulling it out, looking at Gil who stood close by my side. Then I shoved it in the lock and opened the door.
The shed was dark, as if a curtain of shadow fell across the open door. I stuck my head in, feeling around the side for a lightswitch. And that was when something grabbed my hand. I screamed, ready to pull my hand out and run, and then I felt the lightswitch on the wall. I flicked it on quickly. There was no one in there. Shaking, I turned to Gil.
“Something grabbed me,” I whispered. He nodded, unsurprised. Then we walked in the shed together.
The walls inside were all covered with plates of sheet metal. Every square inch of the shed was reinforced with steel, including the roof, which had a flat pane of metal going straight across the shed, welded to the four that covered the walls. Only the floor was unprotected. It was just a plain dirt floor with a hole in the center.
Looking closer at the protective structure of the shed, I saw deep claw and gouge marks raking the metal’s surface, even those on the bottom of the ceiling eight feet above the floor. Something had clearly been in here and wanted very badly to get out.
I inched closer to the hole in the floor, which took up most of the floor of the shed. It was at least ten feet wide. Looking down, I saw spiraling steps, descending in a clockwise fashion as far down as the light extended. I found a small rock on the ground outside, came back in and dropped it down the center of the stairway. I listened for it to hit bottom, counting the seconds on my watch. After about thirty seconds, I realized it wasn’t going to. Maybe it was too far down to hear when the stone connected.
I looked over at Gil. He was standing as near to the door as he could get, looking like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. I gave him high marks for courage, though. There was something wrong in here, and I could feel it. Outside, it was warm and a fresh breeze blew the smell of flowers and pines through the yard. But in here, it was cold and oppressive. A freezing chill seemed to come from the hole in the floor, spiraling up with the stairs and running over my body, sending a feeling like ice running up and down my back.
“Do you want to go first, or should I?” I said, gesturing to the hole. Gil stared at me as if I had gone mad, his eyes widening.
“Why in the fuck should either of us go?” he said, raising his hands and using them to gesticulate wildly as he often did when he was upset. I shrugged.
“This is our property now,” I said. “We need to at least know what’s on it, don’t you think?” But there was another reason too. It was sheer curiosity, and a desire to prove to myself that there was nothing supernatural going on here, no monster in the closet, just the overactive imagination of an old man. Gil sighed.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll go. Go grab two flashlights and Dad’s gun. Maybe some extra batteries. Some extra magazines too. Better safe than sorry, after all…”
We both went inside the house together, leaving the shed door wide open, and that was when, I believe, something got out. And then the killings in town began.
***
We descended the stairs slowly. They were stone, slick in some places. There was no guard rail or any protective barrier, which made my heart beat a little faster. I liked something to hold onto. If I took a tumble on these stairs, I might keep falling forever.
We heard strange sounds from below periodically, but when we shone our lights down there, we couldn't see anything. Echoes rose around us, sounding at one point like kids playing a game of hide and seek, at another like the howling of a wolf. Strange squeaks and clicks would also arise intermittently from the shaft below us, and then stop as quickly as they had started.
The noises got louder as we descended dozens of stories, then hundreds. It seemed like the stairs would just keep going on forever, until we hit the mantle of the Earth and got burned up. Then a door appeared, painted a chipped blue with a fading daisy on the center of it. I looked at Gil, then swung it open.
Beyond it, a hallway with fluorescent lights extended as far as the eye could see. Countless rooms went off it to the left and right. The lights flickered on and off, sending portions of the hallway into darkness. The floor was falling apart in many places, with strange molds and fungi growing out of the wood. White and black molds battled for space, forming huge colonies that were bigger than my shoe. I walked forward, putting my weight gingerly on the floorboard. It creaked slightly and felt wet under my shoe, yet it held my weight.
“Come on,” I said to Gil, who followed closely behind. As soon as we had walked a few steps down the hall, the door slammed shut by itself behind us. I jumped and turned, pulling out the gun reflexively. Gil put a hand on my shoulder, pushing the gun back down.
“It’s OK,” he said. I was breathing hard, my heart hammering in my chest. Maybe that was why I didn’t hear the counting at first.
But as we walked down the decayed hallway, the lights turning on and off above us with every step, I realized that someone was counting, and it had been going on for a while. It sounded like the voice of a little girl.
“Forty… thirty-nine… thirty-eight…” she said, counting off the seconds. I heard giggling from the rooms around us, but I couldn’t see anyone. We kept walking forward, but that counting was getting on my nerves- not least because I couldn’t for the life of me tell where it was coming from.
We checked the rooms to the left and the right. There were broken tables, old office equipment and chairs in nearly all of them. Some of them had fish tanks, but instead of fish, they had plumes of multi-colored molds growing over the top of them, or, in one case, a dead and dried-out turtle.
“...one… ready or not, here I come!” the girl’s voice screamed gleefully, and that was when all the lights went out at once. We quickly fumbled for our flashlights, turning them on at the same time. I had the gun in one hand crisscrossed with the flashlight in the other, a trick I had seen used in cop shows. Gil had a ten-inch bowie knife in one hand, which he had just removed from the massive scabbard he had it in around his leg. In his other hand, he held the flashlight, which he frantically shone back and forth, up and down.
“Geez, calm down with that thing,” I said. “You’re going to make me dizzy.”
“Something’s coming,” Gil whispered, a note of dread in his voice. “Don’t you hear it?” I stopped, listening hard. Indeed, I heard footsteps nearing, small suppressed giggles, the swishing of a dress. My flashlight illuminated a pale face, a little boy sneaking a peak out of the nearest room. He was filthy, covered in black soot with torn clothing and what looked like blood caked into his hair. He looked up at us quickly then withdrew into the room. For the first time, I felt genuinely scared. Now we could be certain we were being watched.
“Hey!” I whispered, running into the room after him. Gil followed close behind me. The footsteps seemed to be right next to us now, but I looked around, not seeing anyone. Then a blur of movement passed by as a little girl ran over to the little boy, where he was curled in the corner under a broken folding table, crying and shaking with terror.
“Found you!” she said. I shone my light directly at her back, seeing a pale blue dress, but I couldn’t see her face.
“Get away from that kid!” I yelled. She ignored me, bending down quickly, and before I knew what had happened, she had ripped the boy’s throat out with her teeth. She turned to look at us, and I saw that her face had been cut off, and now only a grinning skull remained. It was covered in a thin sheen of blood, and two tiny white pinpoints of light seemed to glow inside the empty sockets of her eyes. With her teeth full of flesh and gristle and fresh rivulets of blood running down her skeletal mouth, she continued to cry, “Found you! Found you! Found you!”
Without hesitation, I shot her in the shoulder. She fell back a half-step, turning to look at me with that skeletal grin, then spun around and continued eating the little boy. He was still alive, choking on his own blood, his huge eyes moving over to me as he died, as if accusing me of being the cause of all this. The sound of his last gurgling breaths were the only sounds now. I shot her again, but she wouldn’t go down. A blossom of blood began to spread outwards on her back where I had shot her, but she showed no pain. Gil grabbed my shoulder tightly.
“We need to get out of here,” he said through gritted teeth. I nodded. We ran back to the door we had come in through, but it was locked tight. The lights were still off. I told Gil to take a step back, then tried shooting at the lock. The bullet ricocheted crazily as if I had shot a reinforced army tank rather than a plain wooden doorway. Next we tried kicking it open, but it was as if it were fused to the wall.
I turned to look at him, and the truth passed between us in a glimpse. To get out, we would have to go farther in, where there were likely even worse things waiting for us.

submitted by CIAHerpes to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:08 47Harpys Am I The ONLY one suffering?

This has been an ongoing issue from the day I downloaded Fjordur, and now its spreading throughout the maps.
I've had issues with Fjordur from the day it was released, and that was being constantly kicked off the map if I DARED to go near certain places. The biggest problem zones was the Green obelisk/Red woods parts of the map which was guaranteed 100% to kick me every playthrough.
I cannot enjoy Fjordur as a result.
Another issue that has arisen is the game kicks me 9/10 times when I try to log out, and I end up losing about 20 minutes of progress, ontop of sometimes dying when I log in case I load into a compromising position (either flying or in combat).
These have now extended to Lost Island which I recently started on. (Its also starting to affect the other maps, like Crystal Isles, Valguero, Extinction, etc)
I'm at my wits end and I know for a fact WildCard won't do shit about it because from what I've seen they never do anything about any of the major issues with the game, they rather keep adding new dinos like that's supposed to make it better.
I genuinely don't know what to do because in the beginning the issue was my saves being deleted by server wipes but now the issue is being kicked out of the game for absolutely no reason and losing a heap of progress.
Am I unlucky or is this something that happens with others and how in the heck do you guys cope if you're affected?
I apologise in advanced for this vent post, I really wanna be able to play this game but its hard to enjoy to the max when I am getting kicked out at the most random times, or when I'm trying to end a session, or I'm losing my entire saves.
I play on Xbox One and I feel like I've tried everything I could possibly think of except for buying a new console but I can't do that because I'm not exactly rolling in money.

submitted by 47Harpys to ARKone [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:08 AutoModerator Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator (2022 New Version)

Agency Navigator course Core Curriculum
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The lessons in Iman Gadzhi - Agency Navigator will teach you how to:
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2023.05.28 22:08 Razzy-171 XP-Pen Artist 16 2nd gen vs Artist 16 pro

Having some spare cash and XP-Pen having a mother's day sale (and Huion pissing me off by forcefully bundling their stand with Kamvas 16 2021 after I had already bought the PR100 Parblo stand), I've decided to finally but a drawing display and need help deciding between the two models from the title.
The final price difference is just short of $37, $296.26 vs $331.89.
I like the extra stuff on the pro, like the eraser on the pen and the dials, but they are just fun extras and I'm less happy about the way the cable sticks out the top and about the Iack of pure Usb-c connectivity - I already have to connect the laptop to a power source.
Can anyone tell me how well usb-c connectivity works for laptops on the 16 2nd gen? Or how useful are the dials on the pro compared to buttons or the eraser compared to button-activated erasing?
Cya Raziel-chan

submitted by Razzy-171 to DigitalPainting [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:07 Comfortably_chaotic1 Squeezing

I can't believe I bowled for 3 plus years until I asked the local bowling pro why I can't get my speed or Revs to be anywhere near where I want it to be. He had me throw one ball and told me I was squeezing, I thought I had to have the basics down perfect because I have bowled 220+ several times, even though my average is around 170-180, but finding out I was squeezing was a complete game changer. I have so much to work on now, especially with my release.

submitted by Comfortably_chaotic1 to Bowling [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:07 twameowmeowmeow How do I cope with a late major change?

I'm a rising junior and was/am pursuing a double-major in ecology and politics, with the intent to go into environmental law. This was originally a labor of love, but I actually just... don't enjoy law as a subject. I don't want to go to law school or become a lawyer. I love STEM and I want to continue to work in STEM.
I think the best convergence of my personal interests and financial needs is to pursue a career in computer science. High barrier of entry aside, I legitimately enjoy coding/data, and there's a significantly better work-to-pay ratio in almost all CS careers when compared to law. The only thing stopping me is the sunk cost of my law/policy courses.
I could do a biology-CS double major with only one extra year in undergrad, but I look at my transcript thus far and see all the humanities/policy seminars I've taken and feel literally overwhelmed; cross-discipline double majoring at my college is nearly impossible to do in less than four years, and I was/am so proud of myself for having made it work. I only have three politics courses left before completing the degree requirements.
How do I overcome the sunk cost fallacy? Beyond that, so much of my identity as a student is based in my goal of going to law school; how am I supposed to form something 100% new? I'm sure it seems so petty in the scheme of life, for a 20 year old to be this upset about realizing their 18-year old self was wrong, but I'm really struggling with this. I don't know how to tell my family or friends, all of whom have been really proud of me for my success at double-majoring. I know the harder thing to do is to switch to CS + add time to my degree, but I feel like I'm letting myself down.
Advice/kind words/reality checks/etc are welcome.

submitted by twameowmeowmeow to college [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:07 AutoModerator Iman Gadzhi Programs (Build Agency)

Agency Navigator course Core Curriculum
Financial Planner, Revenue Calculator, Outreach Tracker & More Tools
Websites Templates, Funnels, Ads & More
Template Contracts, Sales Scripts, Agreements, Live calls & More

The core concepts in Iman Gadzhi’c courses include:
- Starting Your Agency
- Finding Leads
- Signing Clients
- Getting Paid
- Onboarding Clients
- Managing Client Communication...
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If you are interested in Iman Gadzhi’s courses, contact us on:
Whatsapp/Telegram: +44 759 388 2116 (Telegram: multistorecourses)
Reddit DM to u/CourseAccess
Email: silverlakestore[@]yandex.com (remove the brackets)

submitted by AutoModerator to BestOfImanGadzhi [link] [comments]

2023.05.28 22:07 AutoModerator [Real] Iman Gadzhi Course Bundle

Agency Navigator course Core Curriculum
Financial Planner, Revenue Calculator, Outreach Tracker & More Tools
Websites Templates, Funnels, Ads & More
Template Contracts, Sales Scripts, Agreements, Live calls & More

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