2021.12.04 20:25 Stoabi Who said the ''50'' are the 1/100 sec ? Every stopwatch can be diffrent...
2021.12.04 20:25 Hurtjb87 He says hi
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2021.12.04 20:25 RacyRaccoon0 A Racy Raccoon NFT stole a prototype from a local factory this morning...
| and then proceeded to drive over mailboxes, a man & a dog in a once quiet neighborhood. We can all be relieved that the dog is ok and no deliveries were meaningfully damaged. |
#nft #cyber #crypto #truck #art
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2021.12.04 20:25 Usual_Abbreviations6 Get it while you can!!
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2021.12.04 20:24 TheStyle68 Pink Elephants - Dumbo
2021.12.04 20:24 thatmidwestnice LPT: Filing your federal taxes in the US should never cost you a cent.
There are several websites that charge to file your federal taxes for you, but one that will never charge you is freetaxusa.com. You’ll still have to pay for state taxes, but using this site gets you out of funneling money towards big financial conglomerates.
submitted by thatmidwestnice to LifeProTips [link] [comments]
2021.12.04 20:24 UnityAssets_new_bot Little Dragons: Tiger : To take full advantage of this asset:It's recommended to be used with Animal Controller (AC).You don't need AC, if you have your own character controller.(Poly Art, Toon, Simple and Realistic Styles)DOCUMENTATION | INTEGRATIONS | FORUM | Web DemoJust see the video and y
2021.12.04 20:24 WrongView4662 EUROPE IS AMERICA'S PUPPET.
Before you get upset. I'm from Poland.
I honestly think that Europe has become a vessel state or continent of the Americans. Most of our defence is controlled by the US. They have a lot of bases here in Europe. Our power as a whole continent has dimished. The European union isn't strong enough to counter America's influence over us. This is very dangerous because they are not our ally. They are a country with an interest and they will do anything to achieve that. We shouldn't delude ourselves into thinking they are our friend. The UK thinks it has some sort of a special relationship with America but it's not reciprocal. America tells every country it has a special relationship. Culturally speaking they have a massive influence on us. The movies we watch is from America, the music we listen to is from America, people are obsessed with America. Even our children speak with their slang. We have been americanised!
submitted by WrongView4662 to unpopularopinion [link] [comments]
2021.12.04 20:24 MoveInside Pain Resonance saved my Twins
Honestly playing the Twins has been a nightmare for the past few months as every new perk directly counters them. However, there's one small gem that we've gotten: Pain Resonance. This perk is an amazing slowdown and map control all put into one, and it's one of few perks that has amazing synergy with the Twins! No longer will you lose your momentum from ruin being cleansed in 10 seconds or having to trudge across the map for a pop. Since you no longer have to physically be somewhere to pressure a gen, you can hook someone, send out Victor, get a hit on the person trying to finish the gen, and then follow up with a hook trade as Charlotte. Combine I with Plaything and you get a ton of slowdown and stealth just from doing your job.
submitted by MoveInside to deadbydaylight [link] [comments]
2021.12.04 20:24 Exact-Lawyer5279 4 Things About BNPL: Navigating an Increasingly Complex Landscape
|submitted by Exact-Lawyer5279 to ASX_BNPL [link] [comments]|
2021.12.04 20:24 Borabear All of this food that has expired at the place i work (its not rotten or anything, just outside of the 30 days)
2021.12.04 20:24 KatieLouis Steel toe work boots
Hey all! I’d love to buy my boyfriend some steel toe work boots, but I want to get him a really nice pair that are comfortable to stand in all day. What are your favorite brands/types? I sit at a desk all day so I know literally nothing about this! Thank you in advance!
submitted by KatieLouis to WorkBoots [link] [comments]
2021.12.04 20:24 slaaneshi_cutie Pants and rash
I've recently figured that my crust pants is the cause of rashes on my legs. Now Google haven't been a help on combating this. So is there a way I can process them, so they don't cause rashes, or would I have to wash them?
submitted by slaaneshi_cutie to crustpunk [link] [comments]
2021.12.04 20:24 kpres12 Who’s the worst programmer you’ve ever come across? What did they do that made you cringe?
2021.12.04 20:24 leoofalexandria Do you know the Muffin Man?
Do you know the Muffin Man? Go ahead, you can say the next two lines to yourself. Ok, good job. Yes, do you know the muffin man? He does not live on Drury Lane, however. He lives in your nightmares. Let me explain because this might be somewhat confusing. The Muffin Man is not a Freddy Krueger type entity, he doesn’t invade your sleep cycle. He also doesn’t target your specific fears or anything like that. He’s very real, let me be clear. I’ve never seen him, but I’ve seen what he has done. My mom made sure I knew the real story of the children’s nursery rhyme. It most likely saved my life. I hope this saves your life too.
As a child I’d say my first solid set of memories came when I was between 3-5. Hard to say, right? Maybe that’s late in life to start remembering things. I’m sure I can look up when the average age that memories develop. I don’t have that kind of determination though. One memory always stuck with me from an early age. Again, not sure how early, but it feels like it’s one of my first verified memories. My mother did her best. My father died when I was an infant. Some kind of work accident. She would never expand on that, not even to this day. I’m almost 40 years old, so it has been a very long time she’s kept the real story from me. I could probably do some digging myself, but again.. I’m just not that determined. Maybe it’s better to just not know some things. My mother made sure that I knew the most absolute truth of the Muffin Man though. As much of a truth as she could convey.
Speaking of my mom. Same old story. Single mother raising multiple children (I was the youngest,) did odd job after odd job, met some unsavory characters, fell into deep depression, gained some kind of drug or alcohol dependency problem. Congratulations kid, you got yourself another long road to success or failure, depending solely on you with no guidance from two solid parental units.
She was a sweet woman though. Even with all her faults, I always knew she had the light of the sun inside of her. She was never abusive to me or my brothers. She never yelled. She was just.. beaten down by life. The biggest shame is that I was never old enough to really see that. But I was old enough to develop my first memory, possibly before her life took a sharp left and then a hard drop.
I think we can all agree, as people, that human memory isn’t at all perfect. I’ve heard that every time you remember something, it gets distorted just a bit. So, you remember your 10th birthday 1000’s of times, and what does that mean? Your memory of that day is some kind of mutated amalgamation of what happened and what you THINK happened? I don’t know. I’ll say it again, I don’t care that much to know.
I do care that I remember singing and playing “the muffin man,” with my mother. Every time I remember this, it is exactly the same. Sunlight is streaming in through the window behind her. Her raven black hair is as straight and beautiful as Sacajawea. We’re both sitting, me in my lumpy childlike way, her, crossed legged. She didn’t have a great singing voice but hearing her sing the muffin man song fills me with warmth. Even after what I have learned. I can’t remember if there was a “patty-cake,” type game that accompanied the rhyme. It feels like there is, but that’s where my memory ends.
I’ve brought this up to my mom a few times. She can’t remember this at all. She knows the rhyme, and admits she sung this to all of us boys, but it was no more than that. No patty cake, no enthusiasm. Just a motherly way to entertain her children. The last time I saw her, she looked bad. She was well beyond her years now, in a bad way. I wanted to go back to this nursery rhyme, one of my earliest, and most pure memories. We always talk about singing the Muffin Man together when I was so very young. What she said this time changed my life.
“Yeah, I memberrr,” she slurred. Damn mom, can’t even start the conversation off without slurring? It’s like 10 in the morning. Just makes me notice again how bad she looks.
Well, all our conversations are like this now. The five or six we have a year. “Yeah mom. You know I always loved hearing you sing that to me.” She seemed to have a flash of sobriety in her face. “I ever tell you, the.. umm..” And I’m losing her again. “The real story of the.. pastry, the .. the thing. MUFFIN MAN, yeah, the muffin man, I ever tell you?”
Holy shit she is really out of it tonight. Looks like this will be a short visit. I took a moment to look at my mother. The woman that gave birth to me. At this moment I saw the 30-year-old version of her. Smooth tan skin, jet black hair. Smile that lasted for an eternity. As that façade faded, the current version revealed itself once again. Glazed eyes, subtle spittle forming from the side of her mouth. A human form of defeat. She looked down, seemingly because she was shutting down. But she rose her head. A moment of clarity followed.
“You don’t know the Muffin Man. Because I didn’t want you to.” “He ruins everything he touches, for nothing more than pure enjoyment. He’ll do it to anyone. I don’t mean to be sexist either, there are probably female Muffin.. women.” “They prey on many targets. They are legion. And.. they are real. He is real.”
I waited for her next confounding sentence. After maybe 20 seconds, I realized my mother had passed out. Or blacked out, I couldn’t be sure. Her eyes were slightly open, and she was breathing, but the life had left her for the moment. That was the most lucid 3 or 4 sentences I’ve heard from her in the last half a decade. I thanked the universe for at least giving me that. I gently guided her unconscious body down on the couch she was sitting on and covered her with a nearby blanket. The tactile feel of this blanket was.. questionable, at best.
I left her shitty apartment complex and opened my phone. I sent both my brothers one simple message: “Still insane,” and walked to my car. When I arrived at my modest ranch home in the Valley, I checked my phone finally (don’t text and drive,) and saw I had absolutely zero responses from my brothers. Or anyone else.
That night I slept maybe 24 minutes, 25 at best. I had visions of muffins. Blood. Violence. I got out of bed when the sun broke the horizon. I was determined. For the first time in many, many moons. I finally found myself a mission and attacked the internet like a man that had NOT slept for 24 or 25 minutes in the last few days.
I knew where to start but didn’t know where to end. My poor mother was only clear about one thing in the last decade: The Muffin Man was bad. He, She, They, are killers. She doesn’t remember the fun nursery rhyme as much as the killer connotations that it meant. I searched everything I could. I came up with… freaking nothing. Well, not nothing, but not much that I could use.
From what I’ve gathered, the classic song could have come from an actual baker from 1600 London. He.. or they.. could have lived on Drury lane, which does actually exist. The Muffin Man probably served or delivered English muffins, not the sweeter, plumper version that us Americans imagine. He could also, or She.. you know what, I’m just going to refer to the entity as the Muffin “Man,” like I have been, just to avoid confusion on my end. HE could also be a “ragamuffin.” A vagabond, a vagrant, a society outlier. In other words, he might not be a baker at all, but a dangerous man with no home. No consequences. No responsibilities.
Something doesn’t feel right. My left arm fell off the table. I tried to keep typing, finally noticing that only my right arm remained on the computer. As I was trying to mentally will it back to the table, my vision blurred. The darkness was coming.. as hard as I fought it. I .. it was.. Do you know the?..
Both my brothers are staring at me. “Hey guys. Glad you came over, you made good time,” I said. “You didn’t invite us,” my oldest brother said. I laughed. “Well, you’re both here, and you wouldn’t be if I didn’t ask you to hang out. Neither of you guys ever ask me if I want to come over. “No,” he said, “You didn’t. And we’re not in your house. We’re in the hospital bro.” At this moment I realized I was laying down in an uncomfortable bed, only slightly more uncomfortable than mine at home. There was a lot of white here, that would explain it.
After having a pretty decent conversation with my brothers, they informed me that I had what the medical professionals call a “cerebrovascular accident.” A stroke, to me and you. I, along with most of you I’m sure, thought I was much too young to get a stroke. That’s for old people. Turns about 10% of adults under 45 get them. So, I’m cool and unlucky.
I was lucky though, actually. I had little to no permanent brain damage. I also did not forget my memories of the Muffin Man. I had to talk to my mother again, immediately.
After some doctor-ordered bed rest, I felt good enough to finally drive. I was feeling better. I thankfully had a waterfowl endorsed insurance plan that covered me quite handsomely while I was out of work. I had re-discovered my love of working out through physical therapy. I also was reading more, to work my brain out. Not to mention it’s also Christmas time. Even though today is a balmy 80 degrees in Southern Cali, the Christmas feel is the same as it is in a snowy climate. I’ve always loved this time of year.
I’ve decided that I’m going to kidnap my mom. Would that be momknapping? Either way, I’m going to take her from her apartment, forcibly if I must. I will then drive her straight to Palm Springs and throw her in the Monarch Shores rehabilitation facility. I know this place will work, as the middle brother in our family got clean here. Middle children, right?
Her apartment complex always reminded me of the one Daniel LaRusso moved to in the first Karate Kid. The building was a big “U,” shape, with two stories. A biohazard pool sat in the middle, for all the residents to enjoy. I walked up to the second level, towards 211. Her door was visible as soon as you got to about the 4th or 5th stair from the top. I could already see that her door was slightly open.
I’m going to save you all most of the details because I cannot bear to write them down. I’m sorry, I truly am. I’ll give my best “too long, didn’t read,” summary for the internet crowd reading this. My mom was dead. I don’t know how long; the Police are still investigating. It couldn’t have been that long as I’d imagine a housekeeper or other staff member would have noticed her door was open. At the very least someone would have smelled the unmistakable odor of death if she’d been there for more than a few days.
The room was covered in blood. Among the plasma I discovered a note, which I kept. I know, I tampered with a crime scene and could possibly be charged with some type of obstruction. But I could not leave the authorities with this evidence. It’s not evidence, it’s for me and not the State. It was short and I’ll just leave you with the most important part:
“Son: He’s here. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you everything. It’s not your father. He is deceased, that much is true. It wasn’t an accident. He died trying to defend me. Your brothers were not here, and you were in my belly when it happened. I think I broke when I saw him die. I should have never sung that song over and over to you. The Muffin Man will be coming for you next. God bless you, my little boy. I hope you never know the Muffin Man.”
I’m sitting here in my dark room. I just buried my mother, what was left of her. I couldn’t bring myself to tell my own brothers what happened. Just another senseless murder is all I could come up with. The cops tried their best. In the end they just didn’t have enough to go on. Maybe the note would have helped. Maybe one day I’ll hand it over and risk prosecution. Maybe. I don’t know how she saved my life by singing this Muffin Man song to me. Maybe I’ll never know. Maybe.
I’m tired. I don’t know where to go next. I don’t know what to do next. The only thing I know is that I’m going to walk down to Ralphs grocery store. I’m going to toast up some English Muffins and sing myself a little rhyme.
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2021.12.04 20:24 queenrafaela So majority wants Minsitthar... interesting. (Anyway, this post is just to announce who won in the little survey I did last week)
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2021.12.04 20:24 demoralising Porsche 911 GT3 Touring [1080x1080]
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2021.12.04 20:24 xElbyy we made AWFUL DISCORD PRESENTATIONS...
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2021.12.04 20:24 Busy_Cry1631 God creates marsupial moles (ft. Owen!!)
G: I’ve had one of my wildest ones yet!
O: sigh oh boy…
G: So take a marsupial…
O: And do what?
G: Give it silky hair.
G: Give it big ole shovels for feel.
O: And then?
G: Take all but a little of its eyes out.
O: So, literally just make it a mole.
G: Yes. …Oh! One more thing!
G: Turn its pouch backwards.
O: THAT …actually makes sense.
G: And put in only the very driest part of Australia.
O: Why couldn’t it just be in the temperate—
G: DID I FUCKING STUTTER?!
O: terrified whimper
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2021.12.04 20:24 fredz147 Ik it’s not a good team but does anyone have improvements
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2021.12.04 20:24 Comfortable_Pay_6434 Sensedge mini
2021.12.04 20:24 FNATIC_sven [chat] Looking for advice from females, please hit me up!
2021.12.04 20:24 Outrageous_Employ_82 Omicron and traveling
2021.12.04 20:24 Martgmez 📍Funko Hollywod
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2021.12.04 20:24 Ivfwarrior What do you think about these two?