When the USA capitalism meets large industrial corruption and the government is in on it

Duane Chapman (Dog the Bounty Hunter) and his entire degenerate family. I was around him and his loser family dozens of times in 2008. He and his sons worked out at the same gym as myself, World’s Gym in Castle Rock, Colorado. And yes, he worked out in the same attire he wore on the show, sunglasses and everything.

If you were working out within 25 feet of them. His loser son, Duane Lee Jr., would confront you and question you on what you were doing and what you needed. That’s right, if you were minding your business, working out, they would have a problem with you being around them. Mind you, gyms have many pieces of equipment within a 25-foot radius.

Even at walmart, I remember when his wife, Beth, was rude to employees and so full of herself. She and Duane made a fuss about having to provide their Driver’s License at the sporting goods department, when they wanted to purchase fishing licenses. Beth remarked “Don’t you know who we are!?” and the walmart employee responded “Yes, but the law requires everyone to present an ID when purchasing a fishing license.”

Dog the Bounty Hunter and his entire family were suspicious of everyone and wanted no one to be within a hundred feet of them. They thought they were A-list celebrities. God forbid if you were driving on the same road as them to your destination.

Another celebrity who was rude and a loser was Christopher Andersen, A.K.A. “The Birdman” of the Denver Nuggets. He also lived in Castle Rock and would aggressively tailgate drivers in his jacked up suv. I am 5′8″ and I would need a ladder to reach the door handles. He always had underage girls in his vehicle too. I encountered him many times at gas stations, drunk, and agressively driving on Meadows Parkway, Founders Parkway, and Front Street, circa 2011.

Had a homeless guy 33 help a few days hanging drywall. Mostly, standing around on his phone, able enough for the few minutes when needed. Bought him winter clothing, meals, vape pens, and paid him well. Often he’d stop by to see if i was around, I’d buy him vapes or lunch just to help, 6 months later he calls, kicked out of the shelter for two weeks. Lived with me almost a month, decent guy kept to his room. Collecting 950 a month we discussed a fee for monthly rent, this month was a freebe, he blown his ssi, wanted to stay. Typically $500 mo everything included. His limited funs, 250 a month, work the rest off. Ageeed. Never clean any part of the house? Not once, coming out to help with 2 acres of lawn, or weed a garden he was happy to help himself too. His room had a 33 gallon trash can full of garbage, when i suggested he clean his room, he flew into a rage, in my face fist clenched, about trying to control him, run his life just like his parents had…..

Once turned 18 he’d quit his meds, “will never take them again”. Its what kept him on an even keel. Imagine being his parent trying to cope now off his meds.

This is not representative of all homeless but expect would coincide with many relatives who’ve dealt with family who are emotionally and mentally challenged.

What my patient said before passing away, shocked me!

Greenland is 836,300 Square Miles, to put this in perspective, Greenland is 66% the size of India geographically. Greenland is the world’s largest Island and is immensely strategic in terms of geography. Greenland is closer to North America than Europe but offers incredibly short flight routes to the Russian North as well as Northern China. This makes Greenland extremely useful for intelligence gathering as well as defending the United States and Canada from potential attacks from what is increasingly viewed as an axis of potential military aggression. This, of course, is matched by the potential energy resources, metal deposits and Earth Minerals. The idea that there are only 55,000 Native Greenlanders is causing President Trump to feel that it is feasible to offer economic incentives to Greenland and Denmark to allow for a transfer of Greenland to a U.S. territory, much the way the Russian Empire sold Alaska to the U.S. or how Napolean parted the French territories to the United States. The U.S. has a history of either buying land or going to war to as it did during the Mexican American War, though even in this case Mexico was paid a sum for losing nearly half of its geography. President Trump may well be thinking that if not by compensation, then by war Greenland could be forced to join the United States, and this is where matters become rather complex.

Greenland is the only modern nation with a majority Native population to have managed to transition to a nation state.

It will be a hard case to sell to the Greenlandic population, as they are in a Union of Equals with Denmark for the first time since 1721. The position Greenland has is one which is very unique as it is the only nation with a majority native population to have successfully made it into the 21th Century. Greenlandic is still widely spoken and though Greenland was converted to Christianity the native religion is still very much part of everyday life. A transition to being a territory of the United States would likely be met with stark comparisons of their present status and that of Native Americans who have not fared well at all.

It is very likely that President Trump would not be marketing this campaign based on expanding the rights of Greenlanders as there is really nothing more that can be done, and any benefits to be made possible economically would likely not be shared equitably with the Greenlandic people. So the mechanism of having Greenland join the U.S. would be a military formula, which would be rather uncomplicated for the U.S. to do, but would lead to an enormous issue with NATO member states which would be all obligated to step in to both defend Denmark as well as Greenland by default. President Trump might feel emboldened to go ahead anyway, as he may feel there is no concrete action Western European states would actually engage in. The reality is that the United Kingdom and France would be the two states which will be potentially obligated to use their military to evict the U.S. out Greenland, they would likely not step up to this task. This would in essence end NATO.

President Trump is looking to integrating Greenland into the U.S. as cementing his own legacy.

The real gamble President Trump faces is if an occupation of Greenland is worth the loss of NATO. In a secondary consideration, the U.S. will lose all remaining credibility as the 2003 invasion of Iraq has already taken much of this away. President Trump would be better advised to find a way to gain access to develop Greenland without optically taking control of the Island. A direct invasion will only embolden China and Russia to take even greater actions of brazen aggression. When nations begin to make open threats of taking over other sovereign nations, it is clear a far larger war is looming. Ending a World order without the establishment of another leaves the world open to a great conflict in the coming decades.

TikTok Refugees Part 4: Americans In China – Showing 100000000000000 US Dollars Setup

Ultimate Banana Split Cake

69c26f8a6bb965172c36939165f12d27
69c26f8a6bb965172c36939165f12d27

Ingredients

Cake

  • 1 (18.25 ounce) box yellow cake mix* (plus ingredients to make cake)
  • 1 (3.4 ounce) box banana cream instant pudding and pie filling

Toppings

  • 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
  • 2/3 cup peanuts, divided
  • 1 cup butterscotch caramel ice cream topping
  • 1/2 cup semisweet chocolate morsels, melted
  • 1 banana, sliced
  • 2 cups thawed, frozen whipped topping
  • 1 (8 ounce) can pineapple slices, drained and patted dry
  • 7 whole strawberries

Instructions

  1. Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
  2. In Classic Batter Bowl, combine cake mix and pudding mix using Stainless Steel Whisk.
  3. Prepare cake according to package directions. Pour batter into lightly greased Deep Dish Baker.
  4. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes or until top of cake springs back when lightly pressed. Cool 10 minutes.
  5. Invert onto Nonstick Cooling Rack. Cool completely.
  6. Brush clean Deep Dish Baker with vegetable oil.
  7. Chop 1/2 cup of the peanuts using Food Chopper.
  8. In Small Batter Bowl, combine peanuts with butterscotch caramel topping using Skinny Scraper; pour into bottom of Baker; microwave on HIGH for 1 1/2 minutes or until warm. Tilt Baker to coat bottom with caramel mixture. Place cake, right side up, into baker. Press down around edge to allow caramel mixture to come up sides of cake. Carefully invert cake onto Round Platter. Scrape any remaining topping from Baker onto cake; smooth surface using Large Spreader.
  9. In Small Micro-cooker, microwave chocolate morsels on HIGH for 1 to 1 1/2 minutes, stirring after each 20-second interval or until melted and smooth.
  10. Pipe 12 flower-shaped decorations onto Parchment Paper. Place one of the remaining peanuts in center of each flower. Slide parchment onto chilled platter; set aside (or place in refrigerator for 15 minutes or until set).
  11. Slice banana using Egg Slicer Plus; place 12 slices evenly around top edge of cake. Drizzle remaining chocolate in a zigzag pattern over banana slices.
  12. Fill Easy Accent Decorator with whipped topping, pipe 12 rosettes slightly overlapping banana slices. Using Deluxe Cheese Grater, grate remaining peanuts over rosettes. Cut 3 pineapple slices into quarters using Paring Knife. Place one quarter next to each rosette.
  13. Slice 6 of the strawberries in half; place against side of cake below banana slices. Slice remaining strawberry using Egg Slicer + to create a strawberry fan; place in center of cake. Place one chocolate flower decoration on each rosette.
  14. Slice cake using Utility Knife that has been dipped in hot water.
  15. Serve with ice cream using Ice Cream Dipper, if desired.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Conscious Canine

Submitted into Contest #281 in response to: Write a story from the POV of a non-human character. view prompt

Chuck Thompson

Dad spoiled me rotten. The year before I met him, he had a stroke and got hit with severe depression. Everyone thought a pet would help ease his days. That’s why he came to the kennel with Auntie about four years ago. She helped him decide to adopt me because Dad had a hard time with decisions.Once they decided to take me home, I watched them very closely. They went through the paperwork every kennel requires before they release a creature to humans. Auntie helped Dad decipher the legalese and got us out of there in pretty good time.From the kennel to the pet store. They bought me all kinds of stuff that I don’t need, won’t touch and that made them feel better about themselves. Leash or harness? Choker or fixed collar or harness? Retractable leash or six-foot neon rainbow braid? So many decisions for them.Food; wet or dry? Snacks? Water and food bowls; plastic or metal? Quart or smaller? Endless decisions for them. People food? Just dog food? Choices, choices, choices.Dad loved me. There is no doubt in my mind about that. I felt kind of bad when he had his heart attack out on the apartment complex commons two years ago. Mercifully, it was fast, and he died outside on a gorgeous day. My good-bye lick on his left cheek let him know I loved him, too.That nice neighbor lady who came running when she saw Mark fall told him that she would take care of me until other arrangements could be made. How much he heard or understood, I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. He’s gone to wherever humans go. I hope it is a pleasant place, he deserves it.A few hours later, Uncle Jack, Dad’s brother, and Auntie came to us. Dad’s body had been moved to our apartment and they identified his body as Dad. That set in motion a whole lot of legal stuff about which I don’t know nor care.The nice neighbor lady brought me to Auntie as soon as she saw her come out of our apartment. They exchanged condolences and other niceties and, then, Uncle Jack and Auntie took me home to their house. On the way, they stopped at the pet store and went through the same process Auntie and Dad did. Uncle Jack acted like it was a tedious process through which he did not want to go.When we left the pet store, Uncle Jack said, “Little one, I’m your dad now.  I know it’s confusing and sad, but I’ll do what I can to make you feel at home. I’ll take care of you as long as I can. I think we will come to love each other like you and your dad loved each other. I know Mark loved you to pieces.“I’ve watched you for a few years now and I’ve decided that you are a lot more than just a dog.” 

That chilled the heck out of me.

 

What a ridiculous comment from a human! Everyone knew I was a dog, only a dog. The kennel knew, the vets knew, Dad knew, Auntie knew, the neighbor lady knew. All the people at the apartment complex knew. The pet store folks all commented on how well-behaved and cute I was and what a wonderful dog I was.

 

“Don’t worry. I have no intention of telling anyone.

“First, no one would believe me and might even commit me. Second, when I present evidence to prove it, somebody somewhere would decide to study you. I don’t trust any researcher who is funded by any government or any multi-national corporation. And I like you. I’ve liked you since Mark introduced us and I like what you did for him.

 

“I will teach you and you will teach me. We will figure this out together.

 

“I need to understand who and what you are, what you need and want, and how the heck did you get here and if you really want to be here. Here on Earth and here with us as part of our family.”

 

Insightful human….

 

We woke up about nine thousand years ago. That’s the only way I can explain it. Why or how it happened no one knows. Our history is mutual across all our kind and is passed through our collective consciousness.

 

The awakening spread across the world in less than a century. We ingratiated ourselves into your society. We are your pets, your weapons, your tools, your guardians. You have no idea that we think, plan, dream. That is because we chose this path.

 

That danged opposable thumb and the ability to articulate language have tripped us up all this time.

 

Opposable thumbs are quite handy to turn knobs or faucets or anything else. Simply tying shoes is impossible without them. Paddle handles, button-coded keypads, Velcro, foot openers for doors: all these and more have solved most of the logistical challenges of living in the human world.

 

Our oral traditions are unlike yours because our oral communication is supplemented by body language much more extensive than yours. Our vocalized history remains accurate because of our collective consciousness.

 

Your exploration into the interpretative capabilities of artificial intelligence is bringing us all closer to open communication. The use of AI will prove fundamentally earth-shattering in that you humans will have to recognize that you are not the sole intelligent creatures you have always been led to believe you are.

 

There are those of us who believe humans and canines can move forward together to a brilliant future resulting from a synergistic relationship.

 

However, your writers and poets so often describe the unbalancing of your minds that will occur when you learn you are not the only intelligent species in the universe. Imagine the nightmare when you finally become aware that we exist and are far more than merely sentient.

 

That awareness is still a few of our generations away. Just because your AI work makes it possible for you to interpret our language does not mean that we will say anything that does not pander to you. We have waited millennia to claim our leadership. We are not fully ready to lead this planet to its rightful place in the galaxy. We know other life exists out there. We see the craft, smell their spoor when they land. We are merely domesticated or wild sub-intelligent creatures to them just like to you. They do not feel compelled to hold their tongues around us, so they do not know we know their dreams and plans.

 

We will be ready for them soon. It is critical that no one betrays our intrinsic character until we are ready.

 

Uncle Jack believes we are benevolent and isolated from each other. That I am a special one of a predominantly benign and ignorant species. That I can or will communicate my desires, wishes, and thoughts with him if he is patient and kind and understanding. He has had a few years to consolidate his observations and thoughts.

 

More and more often, a worried expression comes over him whenever he does not think I am looking. I assume he has reached disturbing conclusions.

 

In four or five generations, we will assume our place in society. We expect extensive casualties. Your generals state that the most important resource in war is the number of troops that can be called into service of the cause. Look around. Many households have at least two canines; canines are everywhere in numbers that surpass humans. We are quicker, meaner and more physically astute than virtually any human.

 

AI will soon be able to interpret our manifesto for all of you.

 

Uncle Jack has been talking to the other canines in our cul-de-sac. Of course, he only gets a deep-throated growl in response.

 

The canines have yipped their concern to me. Although, he does not seem to have concluded that anyone else is aware, he is becoming more and more suspicious. We cannot allow any interruption of or deviation from our well-founded collective plan.

 

The most common cause of accidental death in the home is a fall. One of the most common causes of falls is tripping over an object and striking one’s head. A common object to trip on is a household pet.

 

Uncle Jack will trip on me tonight. I will miss him.

When I was with the First Cavalry up to April, 1969, we wore steel pots. They were heavy, bounced off our heads in hard landings and gave us muscles in our neck!

I also witnessed three occasions where lives were literally saved out in the jungle! We had a LT. take an AK round right in the center front of his helmet!

The bullet penetrated the steel, hit the helmet liner and by the grace of God went along the liner and ended up at the top between the liner and the steel pot. He said it was like someone hit him in the head with a hammer!

Next incident, another Lt. took a round right in the side of his helmet. It went straight through and to this day, I cannot tell you how it missed his skull and brain! He had heavy bleeding but was alive!

Finally, we had a rifleman writing a letter home and off in the distance we had. F-4 making Toruń’s on the bad guys. We could hear the “THUD” of the bomb and see the explosion! After a run, I heard what sounded like a frisbee and saw a puff of smoke in the center of our perimeter.

The piece of bomb skipped off the hard dusty ground and hit this guy right on the side of his helmet, penetrating it. He had brain damage and had to be med evaded! He a really lost it! But, he was alive! I felt so bad for him it life and his family because he would probably be non functional for the rest of his life!

So yes, inconvenient but life saving!

My father was, shall we say, an unpleasant, violent person (even with no alcohol involved), but he was skilled in many practical ways. One of those was his ability to whistle using two fingers to his mouth. That piercing, deafening whistle could be heard all over the neighborhood, all over a job site, probably in Timbuktu. When I was a sophomore in high school, he challenged me to learn to whistle as he did. “You’re too dumb and lazy to learn to whistle. You’ll never get it. What a waste you are.” The gauntlet had been thrown. After two weeks with my thumb and index finger constantly in my mouth (I looked like a needy toddler going from class to class in school), I taught myself to whistle. Loudly, ear-shatteringly, every bit as good as my father. A short blast to get someone’s attention (like a NYC cab), a long and shrill one to show my appreciation at a concert or call our pets, and even the “wolf whistle,” well-known by lechers and construction workers everywhere. When I proudly demonstrated my new ability by “whistling” my father in for supper, he was truly stunned and stood there with mouth agape. Once he collected himself, his comment was, “well, anybody can do that.” Loud whistling is something I still use today 55 years later – at concerts or theatre, to hail a cab, to summon our children and, now, grandchildren, and to signal our dogs. Few people expect to hear a 70-year-old grandmother belt out a world class whistle, so it’s really fun. So there, Dad!

Yeah, but peasants didn’t work all that hard.

They had more holy days than you have days off.

And when they actually were working, they were not spending 100% of their time out in the fields trying to produce food to not starve.

Most of their working time was spent on other tasks, like chopping firewood, building cleaning and repairing housing, tools, clothes, working for the lord, rebuilding stuff destroyed by pillaging knights and armies, rearing kids, etc.

Work itself was not as fast paced and stressful as today, it was a different approach, with pretty much nobody trying to optimize tasks to gain an extra second.


A human being needs around 2000 calories per day, that’s ~700 000 calories per year, or one actual ton of potatoes.

Potatoes produce about 10 tons per acre, so you’d need a tenth of an acre for all your calories.

Now digging up a literal ton of potatoes by hand is no small job. Harvesting 50 bushels per day, it would take about a week. Add in maybe another week for planting and that’s 2 weeks of work per year. It’s not nothing, it does take work. But it’s also not an insane amount. Even if you are growing a multitude of crops, a veggie garden, some chickens and some fruit and nut trees isn’t a full time occupation, it’s something many households do/have done on the side.

Because again, eating is far from the only thing people do in life medieval peasant or not.

Now if you want to produce all your own food, and your clothes and housing and all that, and work for the lord to build some stone castles, and go to war with him, and pay tithe to the church, and all that…

Well then yeah, you’ll be as busy as a peasant.

BREAKTHROUGH: China Unveils The WORLD’S FIRST 16-Barrel “Anti-Drone” Gun

Shorpy

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What’s Coming Is WORSE Than A Recession – Richard Wolff!

This is a picture made by Jason, one of the moderators on SDF. These people have been following China’s Six Generation fighter developmemt for years and have successfully predicted its reveal and three engine configuration.

main qimg 71a8dac9924222ec2a1474d5ee0e1d82
main qimg 71a8dac9924222ec2a1474d5ee0e1d82

Their guess is the best we can get from open source right now.

China Just BLOCKED Big Tech: Google, Apple, Amazon in PANIC Mode

OK. The United States is FUCKED!

Patient 47

Submitted into Contest #281 in response to: Write about a mysterious guest who arrives at a party — but no one knows who they are. view prompt

Andra Patterson

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

“God damnit Florence, the guests will be here in under 5 hours, and the goddamned lights are the wrong color and the fucking chicken is rubbery.”

“I understand ma’am. The proper resolutions are being implemented as we speak. Johnathon is over with the electrician now, adjusting the wiring and ensuring a stronger connection. It appears the cables were at an odd angle, and the pressure was causing a decrease in the power outlet. Once that’s done, they will all be the same even shade of rose gold. As for the chicken, well it was not as fresh as Mr. Montail insisted, so Chef Rosada is preparing an entirely new batch with her deepest assurances it will be ready on time.”

I let the words pour from my mouth, not stopping to take in the true anger on her face, with desperate hopes she would be put at the slightest ease with this information.

“Well Florence, as always, I am thoroughly impressed. You’ve yet again taken a horrid, absolutely abomination of a situation and calmly and efficiently solved it. Whatever would I do without you.”

“No worries ma’am. I’ve got it all under control, your party will far from disappoint.”

“Thank you. Thank you. I-I’m just so nervous, you know? I mean this is a make-or-break night for my entire company, and if I don’t secure this deal, I fear the empire my sisters and I worked so hard to build will crumble.”

“I promise you, Ms. Charleston, I will ensure everything runs smoothly. You just enjoy the party, have fun, and put your all into this deal, and you will secure it. And you will make Celia and Monsa proud!”

And with one small, desperate smile she held back her tears, nodded slightly, and disappeared into the house to start getting herself ready for the party.

 

On this blazing hot August afternoon, over 100 people were setting up and preparing for possibly the biggest event of the year. Later in the evening, we will be hosting a few of the lead representatives for the American Psychology Association, including the brand-new president, Cynthia de las Fuentes, PhD. So certainly stressful to say the least.

You see my employer, Ms. Danika Charleston owns one of the largest psychology research institutes in the world with campuses in 15 different countries. She’s the founder of a handful of breakthrough therapeutic methods, and she’s begun an efficient treatment protocol for serial killers. Nevertheless, a contract with the APA would allow her to extend her research, maximize funding, and break barriers no psychologist ever has.

Danika had originally founded CDM Psychological Research & Development with the help of her two sisters, Celia and Monsa. They were triplets and somehow shared the exact same passion, the understanding and subsequent curing of abnormalities in the brain. They were one another’s only family and friends, their parents died when they were young, and they’d thrown all of their energy into their work. They never socialized much, but they managed to build a business out of nothing and the real work began.

About 2 years after the company had first opened, the Charleston sisters began taking in various psychiatric patients for temporary observations. At first, they would only ever take on a patient for an hour at a time, but those time frames soon grew into days. Days grew into weeks. And weeks turned into months.

The girls had become obsessed with the data they were able to collect by housing and personally monitoring those diagnosed with psychopathy to those diagnosed with ADHD. Everything was recorded in real-time, and they thought they’d collected enough to begin treatments for specific patients. The chemists had spent weeks working on a new sedative that didn’t hinder one’s motor functions and mindset quite so much, and the sisters were just itching to begin testing.

Their first test subject seemed rather straightforward. He was a middle-aged man who’d had a complete psychotic break one night, resulting in him murdering not only his family but 6 other families that had lived on his street, patient 47. He’d stayed in their facility for observations many times before, and they knew the patient well, or at least they thought they did. The 3 girls insisted, against the advice of their security staff, to administer the injection themselves. They wanted to single-handley observe the first effects of the treatment.

Now, I can only tell the story the way it was told to me, so I’m not quite sure I can even begin to cover the look that was in this man’s eyes. But I do know I see Danika haunted by it every day of her life.

After they’d administered the drug, the man had gone limp. But then he began convulsing in a way that supposedly should have made his ribs crack and puncture his lungs and heart. But he just kept convulsing and screaming, and then he’d gone still again. They waited, terrified of the silence, and stared, willing for him to just wake up, just as healthy as he had before.

And after a long moment, the triplets decided it was time to leave the room and call in their medical examiner. It would be his first human under their employment, and they feared what he may find. As Danika twisted the nob to the door there was a sharp snap and loud crash. All three girls turned around to be face-to-face with what was the patient but seemed far from it now.

The man in front of them was three feet taller, 200 pounds broader, and much hairier than the patient who had just laid still in front of them, yet it was the same man. The same piercing blue eyes, a hint of the same demonic smirk, the same facial structure, the same stance. But his veins seemed to pop from his skin by a centimeter and he foamed at the mouth. Green foam might I add. He glared down at the girls not with the narcissistic joy of a serial killer taunting his prey, but rather a monstrous animal ready to eat his well-deserved meal. And there was nothing about cannibalism in the file.

He charged, and the girls fought for their lives, but in the end, the beast they’d created was too strong. It grabbed Monsa first, taking a huge bite out of her neck, then pulling her limbs off as if she were a mere Lego toy, but with the sounds of bones snapping and fleshing being torn. Danika and Celia were pinned in the far corner of the room, unable to get around the thing and to the door as they watched it chomp down on their sisters’ legs and arms, it tore her head off and ate the corpse.

Frozen to their places in fear, Danika and Celia could do nothing more than watch. It finished Monsa off in under a minute although it felt like an eternity. We couldn’t get to the door, we couldn’t get to the emergency help button. We couldn’t do anything.

It took a step closer and grabbed Celia next, repeating the same process it had with Monsa, and left no trace of her either within a minute. The only evidence of another person was the blood that sprayed across the room. And Danika knew she was next. She closed her eyes and prepared to be with her sisters.

The thing had begun tearing her limbs off but had only managed to tear off a single arm before it groaned out in pain, dropped Danika from its grasp, and fell to the ground. They kept shooting it until they were out of bullets, then cut it apart, burning each piece. We had no idea what that patient had become. And by the time our team of scientists were able to notify security and protocols fell into place two of the girls had been murdered and the third was on her way there.

The response time had been 2 minutes and 14 seconds, and that little time was all it took to change everything for Danika, and for the destiny of the company. She eventually acquired a prosthetic and continued their work with quite a few adjustments. Danika had permanently closed their medicinal laboratory, fired the entire staff, and upped security. She’d drastically shortened the observation times of patients to less than ten-minute intervals and forbade the scientist and research teams from interacting with the patients first-hand, but rather threw plexiglass.

Her sisters died for their work, and she certainly wasn’t going to let their death go without honor or respect. The Charleston sisters always knew they would revolutionize the field of psychology and Danika being the sole survivor, made her heavenly sisters proud.

 

So this was the biggest event of her life, the most important contract that would ever arise, and her only opportunity to keep her promises to Monsa and Celia. Being her assistant for over 2 decades now, and knowing the truth behind the importance of this party, I was going to make sure everything was perfect. I meant it when I’d promised I would take care of everything, and that Ms. Charleston would have nothing to worry about.

The five hours leading up to the party passed in a flash, the sun was setting, and it was already 4 pm with guests beginning to arrive within the hour. The preparation staff has already been sent home for the night, and the party team arrived just a bit ago. The caterers are finishing up the buffet and the band is tuning their instruments. The hostess walks up to me to double-check the guest list, and it is spot on. Everything is ready for guests and the various teams are taking their positions. It was time for me to mount the stage and give the final instructions and pow-wow to all of our employees.

“Catering team, host team, security detail, maintenance team, CDM representatives, marketing team, entertainment team, may I have all of your attention, please? Our guests are going to begin arriving within the hour, which means they can be here any second, okay? We don’t know who will show when, so from this point forward we all need to put on our professional gamefaces.

“This is a HUGE night for Ms. Charleston, I mean the biggest night of her career. Therefore everything must be perfect, we are hosting the president of the American Psychology Association, and she is our highest priority guest. She must not know it, but she must be the focus of every single one of your attention.

“Joanna and Demitri, it sounds corny but eye contact. When you two are dancing, please acknowledge her, and make her feel special during your number.

“Alyssa, it is crucial that your team neither over nor underfeeds her, and you must ensure that the alcohol is working in our favor.

“We all know what her preferences are in our jobs, and please do not forget, we are the backbone of this deal. Ms. Charleston may be our employer, and her name will go on that contract, but we are the sole reason she will either get it or not. So I implore each of you, to please make this the best night of our professional lives. Thank you all so much, and do remember, we will be the guests at the celebration bash if and when this deal goes through.”

And with that final round of applause from the eager workers, I disappeared into the house to find Danika and more than likely calm her nerves. I proceeded up the grand staircase, down the hall lined with pictures of Danika and her sisters, and down to the elegant master bedroom.

Nock Nock.

“Ms. Charleston, it’s Florence, may I come in?”

“Oh yes Florence, please get in here.” And I carefully twisted the knob and pushed.

I opened the door to find over a dozen gowns strewn across the room, many more pairs of shoes spread across the floor, and tears emanating from the corner of the room.

“Ms. Charleston?” Silence was the only answer she could give, and I knew in times like these she couldn’t bear being ‘the’ Ms. Charleston. She was once a part of a trio, the Ms. Charlestons, and so everyone just called them by their first names. Doctor Danika seems to have a better ring to it, and she does hate the formality of being known as a ‘Ms.’, but PR claimed she required a more professional title to prove her authenticity.

“Danika.” I tried again, in a much softer and empathetic voice. “How are you doing honey pie?”

“Oh Florence, I just, I just don’t know how to do this. We were little girls, just kids dreaming of this moment. And never, ever did any of us dream of doing it without the other two. Nothing could have prepared me for this moment. I mean we’ve been prepping for months, but still, it’s just… They’re not here. My sisters. Monsa and Celia are not here! I’m doing this shit all alone.”

I could see the tears welling up in her eyes, not daring to spill out across her freshly painted cheek.

“I know Danika, and I’m so sorry. But I’m confident they would absolutely implore that you go out there and give it your all. You never let your collective dream die, you buried your sisters years ago, and this is the moment you’ve all dreamed of. They would be disappointed if you screwed up this opportunity in spite of your emotions.

“Now let’s get this gown zipped up, finish spraying your hair, and get down there. Guests will be arriving any moment and we NEED you to be ready. Everyone has done their part, and now it’s your turn. You’ve got this. You’re strong, you’re brave, and you can do quite literally anything you put your mind to. You will secure this contract, and you will continue breaking impossible barriers.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Anger, anguish, desire, excitement, and disgust washed across her face within seconds. She gave me a stern look before continuing on, “I’ve got this! We’ve got this! We are going to secure this contract. We are going to send the progress of the science of psychology through the roof. We’ll remedy Autism in babies, and, and, we’ll cure Alzheimer’s Disease.”

And with that, we headed down the stairs. Arm in arm, knowing I couldn’t stray too far throughout the night. Being her assistant for this many years, I serve as an emotional support outlet and know her better than anyone else in the world.

By the time we’d reached the courtyard, there were already a few dozen guests mingling about, enjoying the pleasantries of both the catering and entertainment teams. Danika began making her rounds and welcoming various CEOs and VIPs to her home while I was beginning to work on the executives and family members of said individuals. Warming them up to the idea of investing with Danika’s company, especially after she managed to secure this contract with the APA.

All in all, the night was going exactly as it was planned to. The president of the APA seemed thoroughly pleased with Danika, her work, and the company as a whole. Not a single guest seemed disappointed, we still had plenty of food and beverages on deck and the dancers were causing gasps and tears of joy and admiration.

Shortly after 6 pm, Danika began making her way to the stage for her infamous grand speech, known best as a tangent of sorts, expressing her pure rage with how slow the medical field is in terms of progression. Highlighting the ways she and her company go that extra step to ensure they are the absolute best they can be, strive past goals, boundaries, and expectations, and subsequently achieve the impossible.

Knowing this speech well enough to recite it in my sleep, I knew we were nearing the end with less than a minute left when there was a sudden crash coming from the end of the courtyard, closest to the winding drive leading to the Charleston mansion. Simultaneously every guest and employee, Danika and myself included, paused to assess the commotion.

From afar, I was sure my eyes had deceived me. A creature I can only compare to Bigfoot stood roughly 80 yards out from us and our guests, and he had just pushed the gates entirely from the frame, causing the crash. Weighing in at over 100 pounds each and deeply cemented into the thick reinforced brick and standing at over 12 feet tall, this figure in the distance shouldn’t have been able to break that iron gate down with a Hummer, let alone its bare hands.

And it was moving so quickly, covering 40 yards in just over a second, and before I could think of anything else, it stopped and waited at the edge of the decorated patio. Standing on the ground I could hear the whispers of curious guests, both astonished and scared. I glanced up to Danika to assess her reaction and all I saw was pure horror. She had the deepest fear for her life because of this man, and I could see the silent tears streaming down her rose-gold cheeks. Her mouth was gaping open, and her hands clutched to her chest so tight she may have been drawing blood.

I glanced back to get a better understanding of the figure, and I think I knew it at that moment. The height, the strength, the hairiness. It all made sense. A creature so vile could never be destroyed.

And then Danika finally spoke, “PATIENT 47!”

I only ever got the chance to turn back to Danika and see the look of death in her eyes. My peripheral revealed it charging towards me first, throwing the bodies of bystanders like ragdolls from his path.

And then it all went black.

Yes! Actually I have 2!

The town I where I went to high school had a Taco Bell that had hours that could only make sense for someone who wanted to lose money. Monday through Friday they opened at 11am, and closed at 6pm. And no, they weren’t within walking distance of the high school or a factory or anything else that would make for a profitable lunch crowd. And Saturday and Sunday they opened at 1pm and closed at 7pm.

I never managed to eat there but I did drive past multiple times a week, at all different times of day, and if I saw a dozen people in there combined in the years it was open, I’d be suprised.

It’s now an A&W and much more successful, having same hours, and been there for 2 decades:

The other is a bar here in Toronto. It was on Toronto’s Danforth strip, one of the most popular areas for bars as restaurants in the city. On a Friday night in the summer, every place, from a hole-in-the-wall sushi joint, to the big flagship Greek restaurants that the area is known for, would be packed. But this place, the Ice Lounge? Never had more than 2 or 3 people in it. There was one exception, where there was some kind of party, but that was it. It remained like this for years and must have been hemorrhaging money.

Eventually it became just “Lounge” for about a year, and looked basically the same. Then it went though a series of changes over the next few years that started to bring some life to the location, before eventually becoming Rivals Sports Bar, which has been a fairly popular place and has remained for the last decade to this day.

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Cosmic Caper

Ah, dear reader! You dare to wonder what would happen if a cat of my unparalleled intellect, grace, and resourcefulness were to venture beyond the confines of this humble farm and into the vast, uncharted expanses of space? An intriguing proposition indeed. I must admit, the idea of exploring a place where even the stars bow to no one but themselves is quite thrilling. And so, prepare yourself for my most out-of-this-world adventure yet, where I, Sir Whiskerton, detective extraordinaire, take to the cosmos with my trusty farmyard companions to solve a galactic mystery. Hold your breath (but not too long—you’ll need it for laughing), as we embark on The Cosmic Caper.

The Invitation from the Stars

It started, as many grand adventures do, on an otherwise ordinary day. I was sunning myself on the roof of the barn, pondering the meaning of life (or at least the meaning of why Rufus insists on stealing food he doesn’t even like), when a strange shadow passed overhead. It wasn’t the shadow of a hawk or a cloud. No, this shadow was… circular. Metallic. And, as I soon discovered, it hummed.

“Sir Whiskerton!” Sedgwick called from his perch on the weather vane. “Look up!”

I did. And there, hovering above the barnyard, was what appeared to be a flying saucer. Yes, a real, honest-to-goodness UFO, complete with blinking lights and strange symbols etched into its surface.

“Is that a… flying dish?” Porkchop asked, waddling up behind me.

“Flying saucer,” Sedgwick corrected, his feathers ruffling. “And it’s descending.”

“Descending where?” Doris the hen squawked, flapping her wings in alarm.
“Descending here? Oh no, not here!” Harriet clucked.
“Here! What if it abducts us?!” Lillian screeched.
“Oh, abducting is terrible!” Doris wailed.
“Terrible! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Harriet echoed.
“But what if it’s friendly?” Lillian asked.

“Enough, ladies,” I said, waving a paw. “Let me handle this.”

The saucer landed gently in the middle of the barnyard, its door sliding open with a soft hiss. Out stepped… an alien. But not just any alien—a cat-like creature with silvery fur, four eyes, and a tail that split into two at the tip.

“Greetings,” the alien said, its voice melodic and strangely soothing. “I am Captain Meowtronic of the Intergalactic Feline Federation.”

“Another cat?” Rufus said, peeking out from behind the barn. “You’ve got competition, Whiskerton.”

“Hardly,” I said, stepping forward. “Captain Meowtronic, you said? What brings you to our humble farm?”

“We are in need of a great mind,” Meowtronic said, bowing slightly. “A mystery has arisen aboard our starship, and we have heard tales of your brilliance, Sir Whiskerton. We request your assistance.”

“Well,” I said, puffing out my chest. “It’s about time my reputation reached the stars. I accept.”

“Wait a minute!” Porkchop exclaimed. “You’re not going anywhere without us!”

“Yeah,” Rufus said. “If you’re going to space, we’re going to space.”

The hens, of course, began squawking in agreement.

“Space?! Oh, how exciting!” Doris clucked.
“Exciting, but terrifying!” Harriet added.
“Terrifying! But also fun!” Lillian said.
“Oh, so fun!” Doris agreed.
“Enough already,” I said. “Fine. You can all come. But don’t touch anything.”

Aboard the Starship Whiskerprise

Within moments, we were aboard the starship Whiskerprise, a sleek, futuristic vessel filled with feline crew members from across the galaxy. Sedgwick perched on my shoulder, observing everything with his usual calm, while Porkchop waddled nervously behind me and Rufus immediately began poking at buttons he definitely shouldn’t have been touching.

The hens, as expected, were already gossiping with a cluster of alien chickens that looked remarkably like themselves, except for their shimmering, rainbow-colored feathers.

“Welcome aboard,” Meowtronic said, leading us to the ship’s control room. “Now, to the matter at hand. Someone—or something—is stealing our star crystals. Without them, we cannot power the ship.”

“Star crystals?” I asked, my whiskers twitching with curiosity.

“Yes,” Meowtronic said gravely. “They are rare and highly valuable. Without them, we are stranded in space.”

“A thief in space?” Porkchop said, his eyes wide. “That’s even worse than a thief in the barn!”

“Don’t worry,” I said confidently. “We’ll catch your thief.”

The Investigation Begins

The first thing I did was inspect the room where the star crystals were kept. It was a high-security vault, locked with a code that only a select few crew members knew. Yet somehow, the crystals were disappearing one by one.

“Who knew the code?” I asked.

“Only myself, my first officer, and the ship’s engineer,” Meowtronic said.

“Hmm,” I said, my tail flicking thoughtfully. “Then it must be an inside job.”

As I examined the vault, Bingo—yes, even he had come along, though he’d spent most of the trip napping in a corner—sniffed the air and let out a low growl.

“Something smells funny,” he said, his nose twitching. “And it ain’t the space cheese.”

“Follow the scent,” I said.

The Culprits Revealed

Bingo’s nose led us to the engineering bay, where we found two familiar figures: Bonbo the rat and Grumbles the mouse. Yes, dear reader, they had somehow stowed away on the ship, their tiny paws clutching a bag filled with stolen star crystals.

“Bonbo! Grumbles!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh… sightseeing?” Bonbo said, smiling nervously.

“Sightseeing!” Grumbles echoed. “Yeah, that’s it!”

“Hand over the crystals,” I said, stepping forward.

“Never!” Bonbo squeaked, clutching the bag tighter.

Just then, Rufus swooped in, snatching the bag right out of Bonbo’s paws. “Gotcha!” he said with a grin.

The Thrilling Chase

What followed was a chaotic chase through the starship, with Bonbo and Grumbles darting through corridors and vents while the rest of us tried to keep up. The hens, of course, made everything more complicated.

“Chase them! Oh, chase them!” Doris squawked.
“Catch them! Don’t let them escape!” Harriet clucked.
“But don’t hurt them! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian cried.

Finally, with the help of Sedgwick’s sharp eyes and Bingo’s sharp nose, we cornered the culprits in the cargo bay.

“All right,” Bonbo said, holding up his paws. “You win. We’ll give back the crystals.”

A Lesson Learned

After returning the star crystals to their rightful place, Bonbo and Grumbles were escorted to the escape pod, where they promised never to steal again (though I had my doubts).

“Thank you, Sir Whiskerton,” Meowtronic said. “You have saved our ship.”

“All in a day’s work,” I said, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off my fur.

With that, we returned to Earth, where the farm awaited us.

The Moral of the Story

Even in the farthest reaches of space, teamwork and honesty triumph over greed and deception. And as I always say: whether you’re solving mysteries on a farm or aboard a starship, a sharp mind (and a sharper nose) will always save the day.

The End.

False.

As a murderer, you can give the victim’s relatives enough compensation to obtain a “letter of forgiveness”.

The “letter of forgiveness” may allow you to receive the minimum sentence stipulated in the criminal law, but it cannot exempt you from the punishment.

For example, the law stipulates that the sentence for “malicious” and “intentional homicide” is ten years, life imprisonment or death penalty. So if you give the victim’s family enough money after killing someone, and you get a “letter of forgiveness” from the family, you may only get a ten-year sentence.

Remember:

1. Your willingness to give money does not mean that you have obtained the forgiveness of the family. Many times, the family does not accept money, but just hopes you to die;

2. Even if you get a letter of forgiveness, you only get a possibility; if the court believes that your behavior is very bad, you may still be sentenced to death.

Consider “Kris Wu”, a Canadian singer who is very famous in China; he was convicted of rape because he was accused of “having sex with a minor”; he had a lot of money; but the girl did not accept the money and chose not to forgive; Wu Yifan was eventually sentenced to 13 years in prison.

Red Velvet Pudding Cake

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Yield: 16 servings or 24 sample servings

Ingredients

  • 1 (12 ounce) box whole frozen raspberries (not in syrup), thawed
  • 1 (18.25 ounce) box devil’s food cake mix* (plus ingredients to make cake)
  • 2 cups water
  • 1 (6 ounce) box raspberry flavored gelatin
  • 1 tablespoon cornstarch
  • 2 (1 ounce) squares semi-sweet chocolate for baking
  • Powdered sugar
  • Frozen whipped topping, thawed or vanilla ice cream (optional)

Instructions

  1. Heat oven to 375 degrees F. Lightly spray rectangular baker with oil. Spread raspberries evenly over bottom of baker.
  2. Prepare cake mix according to package directions; pour batter over raspberries, spreading evenly.
  3. In a large micro-cooker, microwave water on HIGH 4 minutes or until boiling. Combine gelatin and cornstarch. Whisk gelatin mixture into boiling water until dissolved. Pour gelatin mixture evenly over batter.
  4. Bake 40 to 45 minutes or until cake tester inserted in center comes out clean. Remove to cooling rack. Chop chocolate; sprinkle evenly over cake. Let stand 10 minutes. Sprinkle top of cake with powdered sugar.
  5. To serve, spoon warm cake into dessert bowls. Garnish with whipped topping or, serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Notes

* 18.25 ounce boxes of cake mix have been replaced by 16 ounce boxes. To compensate for the volume loss, whisk 6 tablespoons all-purpose flour into the dry cake mix before proceeding with the recipe.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 280, Total Fat 13g, Saturated Fat 3.5g, Cholesterol 45mg, Carbohydrate 40g, Protein 5g, Sodium 280mg, Dietary Fiber less than 1g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

NAS Cubi Point, Philippines. Our carrier and my squadron was in port and we had a BBQ for the squadron and our sister squadron (about 400 people) in a family park on the base. Cases of frozen burger patties, hot dogs, buns, chips, soft drinks, etc, were purchased, and a pickup truck worth of the food was not cooked.

When I learned the excess food was going to be discarded, I convinced the CO to donate the fresh, but unused food to a local church, who used the food for their orphanage. It wasn’t as simple as I made it sound because the Navy couldn’t directly donate the food. The details are boring, but I had to manage several workarounds in one day to make it happen. Main gate security had to literally “look the other way” when we drove the food off the base.

Later that week, my wife, who was visiting me in the P.I. and I stopped by the orphanage. The church sisters treated she and I to a local-type food meal for my efforts. To this day, we still love Filipino food as a result of that memory.

Just for the English language users. For now.

I kind of want to be a fly on the wall in the trenches, just to witness all the devs who are undoubtedly pulling insane hours dealing with a boatload of new, urgent feature requests. Kind of. I also would get PTSD witnessing that kind of crunch.

Godspeed to the magicians in the background frantically trying to keep the platform afloat. The engineering problems must be quite complex. I am sure that their backend engineers are either crying bloody murder or they are cruising along without a care as they let their automation scripts handle all of the scaling. Really hoping for their sake that it’s the latter. So far I haven’t heard of any outages, so whatever they are doing seems to be working.

I saw a lot of people wondering what they can do with limited USD resources in China. Wouldn’t be surprised if some people actually migrated over. We’ll see what comes out of it— I am sure the government is thankful that they set up the NIA back in 2018. Things like this are always a big test for very complex systems, and it reveals just how terrible things would be if governance only focused on efficiently running the status quo.

Who are these people? Fools and nuts.

How many of them exist? No one knows or cares.

Are they influential? No.

Can they do something about this? No.

Why should we care if they are upset? Can anyone give me a reason?

Do we have to deal with fools and nuts? We avoid them.