What book are you reading to match this scene?

We did some rural spring cleaning today and burned a trash pile that contained the Lucie Chair, an overstuffed chair that at least 3 generations of dogs have slept in. This prompted a search for pictures of some of those dogs sleeping in that chair. Lucie Chair Photos

Where can I find what brand their plush reading chairs were? Would love to buy a new one for myself.

She’s 3 and as a stay at home parent, I insist on quiet hour everyday. During this time, we are in her room and she plays quietly, whilst I sit in an overstuffed chair and read. A lot of time when I am doing chores and check on her, she’s paging through her books (over 200 spread throughout the house) and we put a book light on her bed so she can stay up and read at night if she likes. Hopefully she is a lifelong reader!

Edit: what are some things you’ve done that have helped your small children be avid readers?

So my wife finally agreed to let me turn some space in my basement into a dedicated smoking room. It’s costing me a full basement remodel but I feel it’s worth it to not freeze outside anymore.

What would you do for your smoking room? I’m thinking overstuffed chairs, a big tv, maybe some retro video game consoles, and a good stereo. I’ll probably catch shit for this but I also want to try and find an apothecary coffee table like in friends with all the little drawers for glassware and stuff.

I’m really looking forward to see your ideas!

Now I wanna say real quick that I LOVE PC building but at the same time when I build one I like to stick with it for at least 4 maybe 5 years. My first PC I ever made back in 2017 has finally ran its course and I'm now putting him in early retirement. Specs weren't anything special but the GTX 1660ti was a little beast and perfectly satisfied my needs for the time. And yes obviously I don't "need" to spend a whole bunch of money to build a PC but at the same time I want the best I can possibly get in the current market. I'm also aware there's no such thing as the "perfect" gaming PC. No problems with that, I just want the best I can possibly get and last me for a really long time.

What will you be doing with this PC? Be as specific as possible, and include specific games or programs you will be using?

To make a framerate/graphics master for any type of game I throw at it. Whether its first person shooters, rpgs, or even emulators I just want to build something that "while not perfect" can handle at the very least 80% of gaming tasks.

What is your maximum budget before rebates/shipping/taxes?

No budget because I'm insane. Money is no object for this project.

When do you plan on building/buying the PC? Note?

Right away. I desperately wanna play some Endwalker and Final Fantasy VII Remake

What, exactly, do you need included in the budget?

Everything and anything. Tower/OS/monitor/keyboard/mouse/headset/microphone/recording software/chair/desk/speakers/mousepad/etc

Which country (and state/province) will you be purchasing the parts in? If you're in US, do you have access to a Microcenter location?

I live in the USA in the state of Ohio and I will be making my purchases on whatever site has the items needed. Also I do have a Microcenter in my state.

If reusing any parts (including monitor(s)/keyboard/mouse/etc), what parts will you be reusing? Brands and models are appreciated

My daddy always taught me variety is the spice of life especially when it comes to PC gaming. I want 0 duplicates or reusing brands/models I want the best of the best from everyone's respective origins.

Will you be overclocking? If yes, are you interested in overclocking right away, or down the line? CPU and/or GPU?

Nah. Overclocking was never really my thing as the games I've played don't really require it. Least I don't think, regardless no Overlocking for me.

**Are there any specific features or items you want/need in the b

In the process of de-decorating. Have to get the tree out for recycling tomorrow and New Year's is over, so it's time.

But I'm doing it slowly and reluctantly, because things always look depressing and too bare afterwards. I'm not someone who has a lot of seasonal decorations, but this year I got more because I suspected I was going to spend it alone and wanted to make it an especially nice time.

Having the most resistance denuding the tree because I loved coming home to it lit. I'm sure there's also residual Littlest Christmas Tree guilt involved too. (Hans Christian Andersen sad anthropromorphicised tree story, for those who don't know.)

I did recently get a wonderful overstuffed leather chair that I needed (free! curbside, could hardly believe my luck) and that gives me a lot of pleasure looking at it and sitting in it. So comfortable! I had no truly comfortable place to sit and watch movies, or read. This helps take the sting away some.

Is anyone else feeling this? Got any suggestions of how to get over it smoothly, other than toughing it out until things look normal again?

In late 1975, I was told to report to the Hubbard Communications office. The senior officer there at the time, informed me that I was to report to the Fifield Manor and go to the seventh floor. She gave me no other information. I did this without knowing why I was going.

At the Manor, I was directed to the elevator and went to the seventh floor. The entire floor was elaborately furnished to the point of suffocation. An S.O. member appeared and showed me to a door that was partly open.

I went into a very large living room with heavy curtains, pile carpet, overstuffed chairs and clean to the point of obsession. Sitting on one of the chairs, drinking what looked like sherry, was a heavy-set older man. He had reddish grey hair, slightly long in the back. He was wearing a white shirt, black pants, black tie, and black shoes, highly polished.

He didn't say a word and slowly got up, motioned me to follow him into the next room. I didn't know if it was Hubbard, and wondered if I was to have either an auditing session or an interview. I followed him. I found myself in a lavish bedroom. This still didn't worry me as sometimes interviews and sessions were held in bedrooms at the HolIywood Inn for staff. There was small table set up with an E-meter on it and again I thought about a session.

Without a word he suddenly began to undress me. I was repelled by him. I did not want to sleep with him. Yet, I felt really chilled and cold to the bone at that moment. I acutely sensed real fear and danger in the room. In an instant I realized the calculated power coming from this person. If I resisted I knew that my punishment would be extreme. His eyes were so blank, no emotion, no interaction, nothing was there. I made the decision to not resist no matter what happened. I realized it would be a bad mistake for me to do so.

He seemed to be completely divorced from reality. He was so strange that I realized that if I provoked him he could be extremely dangerous. I let him undress me without resisting. I was totally unprepared for what happened next. He lay on top of me. As far as I can tell he had no erection. However, using his hand in some way he managed to get his penis inside me. Then for the next hour he did absolutely nothing at all. I mean nothing!

“¿Qué?” The male Fiend asked.

He stared. Rob stared. The Party stared. An atmosphere of abject confusion suffused the room, so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Silent chaos reigned as the seconds stretched on; absolutely no one knew what to do, and that included the person who’d spoken the magic words that threw everything into disarray.

Spanish, Rob thought, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. It’s actually Spanish. He’d recognized the Fiends’ dialect during their back-and-forth conversation between each other. At first, Rob had nearly dismissed it a figment of his imagination. Perhaps he was missing Earth badly enough to hear Earth languages where everyone else heard nonsense. That idea had lasted until he’d tested the waters by throwing out a stock greeting. There was a fundamental difference between shock and shocked understanding, and it was the latter emotion that he saw writ plain on the Fiend’s faces, their emotions as vibrant as glowing neon signs spelling out ‘what the fuck, yo’.

He’d spoken Spanish, and they’d responded in kind.

The two native Elatran languages that Rob had personal experience with were Elvish and Draconic. Neither sounded remotely like languages from Earth, with both possessing distinct words, accents, and intonations. Every race in Elatra spoke English as a universal language dubbed Common – which, in retrospect, was suspiciously convenient – and they had the ability to learn Auto-Translate Skills to make cross-species communication as easy as could be. But Spanish? Or any other language from Earth? Completely absent.

Until now.

“Did you just converse with them?” Elder Alessia managed to ask, in a tone of warring emotions.

“Think so,” Rob replied, glancing back. “Is it seriously true that none of the other races have been able to?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “Fiendish is incomprehensible. The very sound of it is reminiscent of steel scraping across glass. What few dialogues we’ve been able to open with the Fiends have been a result of exchanging symbols and pantomimes, and even those attempts broke down and inevitably led to renewed fighting.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How in the world do you know their language?”

Rob shot her a tight smile. “It’s from Earth.”

If the atmosphere of confusion was thick before, now it was so dense that a chainsaw would be needed to cut through it. Rob tried to think of something meaningful to say, but without Diplomacy backing him up and feeding him advice, taking char

This is a story I wrote for a creative writing class last trimester. Was thinking about it and thought y'all might enjoy the story!

---------------------------------------------

Eris awoke in the building of honor. She rose up out of the straw bed and flowers wishing the memories of yesterday were only a bad dream. She had been chosen. She fell back onto the bed.

“Now that’s no way for an important lady to act.” Came a matronly voice, and Eris sighed. She didn’t want to deal with her Nana right now, but oh well, nothing to do about it now.

“Yes Nana.” she said as she rolled out of the bed. She hadn’t wanted any of this. She was barely 21! And yet for some reason, the Cave of Gods had chosen her. A bright beam of blue light had shot out and gone up and down her body and spoken in the ancient tongue. The entire village had stared at her before bursting out in celebration. There had been feasts and dancing and music the likes of which she had only experienced in her youngest of days when the last one had been chosen. People traveled from all over just to see if the Cave would choose them. It was considered a great honor. So why did she feel so much dread? Well, the main reason was pretty obvious.

Eris picked up her plate and moved to grab some of the leftover sweets from the previous night, that is, before Nana smacked her hand with a wooden spoon.

“Ah ah ah,” Nana said “you’re meeting the gods today! The Chosen need to eat good and well so they’re at their tip-top shape!”

“Why should I?” Eris couldn’t help but whine, “it’s not like I’m coming back anyways.” There it was. The terrible truth. No one who had entered the cave had ever come back. The village Elders had always done their best to hide that truth, but when you lived in the village of the cave you couldn’t help but notice.

Nana turned her face away. Were those tears in her eyes? “Nonsense deary! I’m sure the gods have something special planned for you! Now make sure you eat your breakfast. It’s almost time for the final ceremony!”

Eris couldn’t help but snort. The final ceremony was a joke. People tried to be kind and helpful but it always ended up feeling like what it inevitably was. A funeral.

Eris sighed as she took her seat at the oak table and ate as Nana said. “Well, nothing for it now.” She thought. She could try to escape but they’d find her in no time flat. Besides, where would she go if it even worked? Everyone was connected to the Cave and she couldn’t travel faster

I've read and listened to Your Brain on Porn by Gary Wilson a few times.

However, it's a bit dense and it took me a few reads before I could consolidate the ideas that are spread throughout the book.

I've consolidated my notes below - feel free to suggest any additions. If you'd rather listen to this summary, I've published a summary video here.

Overview

Your Brain on Porn, written by the late Gary Wilson, is the most comprehensive book on Internet Porn addiction. If you're curious about the effects of internet porn (referred to as IP from now on), whether or not it is addictive, and how to stop watching it, this book will serve as the most useful resource to you.

Additionally, if you are experiencing issues, such as sexual dysfunction or undesired fetishes that you discovered through IP, this book can potentially help you reverse those issues.

Finally, if you find that you're not able to quit IP, this book can help you achieve that goal:

• Learn about the problems caused by IP, which is often compelling enough to help people quit.
• Understand IP addiction and why you're stuck in an endless cycle of trying and failing to quit.
• Get actionable advice for quitting IP, accumulated from research and thousands of success stories.
• Discover encouragement that might provide the push you need to finally kick the addiction.

Discovering a serious modern problem

In 2008, internet users discovered that IP was causing sexual dysfunction issues (erectile dysfunction, low libido) in their own lives. They noticed that erectile dysfunction only occurred in real-life encounters that were previously successful. Conversely, there were no erectile issues when viewing IP.

This motivated many online users to completely abstain from IP. Many reported a complete reversal of the issues they were having previously. At the same time, those who were able to quit noticed they no longer suffered from depression and social anxiety and they also noticed increased confidence and feelings of fulfillment.

These self-reports spawned numerous research studies and further anecdotal testing that continued to re-enforce these discoveries.

>***A year before I quit IP I’d even gone to see psychiatrists and psychologists, who diagnosed me with severe social anxiety disorder and depression, and wanted to put me on antidepressants, which I never agreed to... When I went on my first NoFap streak (80 days) I started notic

I was researching home fire statistics thanks to a discussion over on /r/homeimprovement (hint, bad wiring is not a particularly big cause of residential structure fires) and I found this awesome report:

https://www.nfpa.org/-/media/Files/News-and-Research/Fire-statistics-and-reports/Building-and-life-safety/oshomes.pdf

There are some really good takeaways - first, can we all celebrate that residential structure fires are down 50% since 1980? All those building codes and appliance testing programs and such are actually working.

Number one cause of home fires and responsible for 50% of all fires - cooking. Be careful - it's that pot or pan of super hot oil that's going to get you. While we're on this, number one cause of injuries from home structure fires - cooking and, high on the ratings for causes of injury, 'fire control' or maybe it should be 'attempted fire control'. If that pan of oil bursts into flames, DO NOT THROW WATER ON THE BURNING OIL. Doing so will throw burning oil everywhere. If you have the cover of the pot handy (keep it handy) and you can set it on the pot, go for it, otherwise evacuate and let the pros deal with it. Then again, the report later says that 97% of all home fires are handled without help from the fire department.

Number one cause of residential structure fires that resulted in death? 'smoking materials' and if you then look at the 'materials first ignited chart' and the 'human factor contributing' chart - it turns out that smoking in bed or in the overstuffed chair in the living room - especially doing so while drunk or otherwise impaired is a fair way to end up dead. Don't smoke at all - but, if you must, don't smoke sleepy, don't smoke in bed, don't smoke super drunk.

Three out of five deaths happened in homes with no smoke alarms despite the fact that 96 percent of homes have smoke alarms. Keep those smoke alarms up to date guys!

The report ends with a note on the fact that (in Norway because they have the data) "a majority of fatal fire victims in Norway had some kind of vulnerability, such as drug or alcohol use, physical or cognitive challenges, low socioeconomic status, or another situation that would make an individual less likely to discover a fire in its early stages or to mitigate or safely evacuate from a fire." I can't tell you that you should just rise above whatever vulnerability you suffer from. But, you can help out vulnerable relatives and friends by checking their smoke detectors for them.

I hope

This is a special treat, i felt like writing this, it goes a bit dark at some point but hey, thats life. let me know what you think.

seasonal greetings and all that. hope you enjoy

Previous first next (TBA)

______________________________________________________________________________

Republic space station:

The commanding officer of the flight control Wing was making his rounds of the tower where several operators was sitting, faces glued to their screens, although in the middle of the night cycle, there was still some traffic going in and out of the space station.

A voice from an operator drew his attention and he made for their station, upon arriving he heard the operator trying to contact an unknown ship.

"What seems to be the problem here operator" the commanding officer asked in a calm but stern voice.

"Sir, the scanners started acting up a minute ago, one second indicating a ship, the next it was gone, but now its showing a ship, incoming and fast, almost impossibly fast, on top of that, the call sign keeps changing." the poor operator sound almost desperate, during the explanation their voice had gone up several octaves.

"Calm down operator, what do you mean, their call signs can't just change." the commander still calm but now intrigued, he considered his crew to be among the best, and for one of them to act like this, there had to be something amiss.

"It started with 'sc001' then it changed to 'jm001', then to 'ym001' I don't know how, or what they mean, but it's always 001."

"Alright listen up!" the commander said for all to hear, several face swivelled towards him.

"We got an unknown bogey incoming. X:Y:Z coordinates are released, first to get visual, gets to go home early and spent their holiday morning with their families."

The flight command wing erupted in a slight controlled chaos as everyone started talking, calling out for various services.

Several seconds past, way more than the commander found comfortable, before anything happened. It gave him pause to think back to his academy days, when his class was introduced to the new and improved scanner system, 99,999% reliable they where told, and the answer the instructor had given when asked why not 100%.

During the year long test phase of the new sca

I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.

Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.

Welcome back! Taihou's secretary now, let's see how that all shakes out. As always, you can read it on Fanfiction or AO3, you can view all of my works here and here, respectively, and if you want to support me, you can do so via Patreon. Enjoy!

I flipped through the stack of incomplete reports as I tried to find the annual fuel consumption logs when I heard a quiet, but insistent, cough from across my desk. Already knowing what I’d find, I slowly turned my gaze up to my secretary, who already had the report I needed in her hands.

“Was it this document my Commander needed? I know it was, naturally,” she beamed. She’d been my secretary for two weeks and I still had no idea how she was able to predict exactly what I’d need. While it was extremely helpful, it was also downright scary at times.

“Thanks,” I quietly mumbled as I began going through it. “And the…”

No sooner were the words out of my mouth than the needed folder was held out to me, awaiting my signature. “Right here, Shikikan.”

I quickly signed it, and despite being almost certain of what the answer would be, I dared to ask one last question. “Scharnhorst available for our sparring sessions?”

Taihou pouted and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Commander. Training again.”

“Damn,” I sighed and turned to look out the window, wondering just what was conspiring to keep us apart. “And you talked with Enterprise about getting her training shifted around so we could have lunch together?”

Again, the overdramatic pout and a sad, slow nod of her head. “She said Scharnhorst was happy where she was and that she didn’t want to interrupt the flow of her training regimen.” While I wasn’t too happy about it, I was at least glad that she was finding her place amongst the other shipgirls. “Well...thanks for asking, anyway, Taihou.”

“Anything for my Commander,” she said with a low bow. There was a momentary silence as we both waited for her to ask the same question she’d been asking since she first took over as my secretary. “Since she won’t be joining you for lunch...perhaps...you would like to join me?”

I’d rebuffed her every day, preferring to work through lunch, but with the prospect of spending time

In December of 1995, a heavy-booted man I didn't know came into my room while I was sleeping, woke me up, and before I was able to pick the sleepiness from my eye corners, told me in an all too non-sinister voice that he had tied up both my parents and he was going to kill them unless I did exactly what I was told. That was a lot to take in. I was only freshly 7 years old, so even though I didn't really believe in myself, and I was very scared, I told the man that I would try my best to save my parents. He said, "There's a good boy" with his extra minty breath hissing through his beard and singing my hairless nostrils. With a chuckle, he rubbed my head with his hand. I remember feeling like my hair was being torn out because his hand was so rough.

The hefty intruder took me by the hand and led me downstairs. Even though I was as frightened as a child should be while being led by a gruff but kind of jovial scary stranger in the dead of night to his parents’ supposed capture, I remember thinking how silly our creeping shadows looked when cast from the blinking garland wrapped around the railings. I heard the muffled voices of my parents somewhere in the kitchen. The man stopped me at the bottom of the stairs, stooped down to my level, his boots creaking, and poked me really hard in the belly. He asked, "Do you think you have what it takes to save your parents?" I felt like the wind got knocked out of me, but I nodded a yes.

The man picked me up by the armpits, his hands squeezing tightly and his fingernails digging into my skin through my Looney Tunes pajama shirt and carried me into the kitchen. There they were. My mom and dad duct taped to chairs with more duct tape wrapped around their mouths and heads, and then a lot more duct tape just stuck them all over their bodies, but not really constricting them at all. Synchronistically, my mom and dad’s eyes shifted from me to the kitchen table and then back to me and then with an empathized shift back to the kitchen table. For some reason, that made me look at the kitchen table.

On the table in front of them were several greasy brown paper bags. The table rattled a bit as the man dropped me right on top. He giggled in his throat, letting the air puff out his nose in little bursts. Then he started breathing really heavy in some sort of weird way that I've never heard anyone breath like before or since. He walked over to my mom, really putting the weight into the heels of his black boots with every step, and q

I'm surprised it hasn't decade.

Last week, mid-week, the skies were the color of aged concrete all day. At mid-afternoon I gave first thought to my dinner. There would be little to do, as I had cooked up a pot of soup the day prior. It would need only “nuking” in the microwave. A small salad and one of my crusty rolls…and I would be finished “cooking dinner” in ten minutes.

I looked outside, a light rain was spattering into the puddles in the street.

“And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain”

(Kathy’s Song, Paul Simon, 1965)

The clock said “3:10pm”.

I looked at my espresso machine and at the coffee grinder. I had rewarded myself with them after I got my one year chip from Alcoholics Anonymous.

Did I mention that I love autumn rainy days? The rain brings out the smell of the fallen leaves. I also like the “sshhhhhhhhhhhkkkkkk.k.k.k.k.k.k.k” of car tires as they pass me by when I am walking by a busy street.

I threw a trench over my “house sweats”. Sweats and fleece are my uniform in winter, my dozens of surgical scrubs serve me similarly in summer. I slid my laptop and charger into a satchel and tossed its strap over my shoulder.

The smell of wet leaves greeted me at the door.

There is a coffee shop located about one-third of a mile from my place. It is not my usual coffee haunt.

Mine has anti-war slogans on the wall. There are pictures of Che and a Palestinian flag. The tables do not match and the chairs all wobble when you sit in them. The proprietor is an amiable bearded chap with a pony tail. The clientele is a mix of races and genders. Some sip coffee. Some sip mint tea from thin glasses. The coffees and teas are fair trade. A hookah is available (in non-COVID times).

The shop near my home is a polar opposite.

The furniture matches. The walls highlight “all things coffee”. Several overstuffed chairs are clustered in front of a fireplace that blazes from November to April. The local newspaper is scattered among the tattered leavings of the Wall Street Journal.

The clientele is usually attired in the uniform of the upper twenty-percent of wealth and income…North Face and Patagonia…and an abundance of rough-and-tumble college sports attire that have never seen sweat.

I pushed the door open. The shop was empty. Rain may keep the twenty-percenters indoors with their his-n-hers Lexus and Audi safely ensconced in a heated garage.

I nodded to the proprietor, a lanky woman with hint of an English acc

Hi IMAM! It's been a minute since I've shared some reviews with you, so here I am to talk about some Arcana Craves I've tried recently! I first got into indies around the time Arcana Craves shut down temporarily, so I had been waiting for over a year to try them. Pure gourmands typically are not my jam, but I love a gourmand with something else added, which means that I was already predisposed to like this house. And indeed, I've had an impressively high hit rate so far...out of the scents I have tried, there's not a single one I didn't like at all! I'm looking forward to trying more in the future, especially other Peaches and Pumpkins, so would love any impressions of those you'd care to share!

Honey Craves Coffee Shops (Roasting coffee beans, honey-drizzled cake, freshly baked vanilla cookies, soft, overstuffed chairs, and a hint of steamed milk) - This is the most gourmand of the Craves I've tried so far. However, I do like it! I've been looking for a good coffee scent for a while and this is a good one. I love coffee with half and half, honey, and cinnamon, and I can say that this scent reminds me of that. The long drydown reminds me surprisingly of Sleeps with Butterflies, one of my favorite scents from Black Hearted Tart, which also has a "honey-drenched cake" note. I don't see myself needing a full bottle of this, but I'd definitely consider trying to get my hands on another decant. Perfect cozy scent for cold weather!

Peaches Crave Black Sand (Yellow peaches with the richest amber resin, black coconut, coconut husks, and smoky vetiver) - A sexy, summery peach. I really wasn't sure if I would like this one as I'm iffy on both coconut and vetiver, but I was surprised! It doesn't smell like either of those to me, but it does smell like warm dry summery peach. My mom used to can peaches every summer and this scent reminds me of the smell of them when she would wash/peel them. I really enjoy it and may get a bottle in the summer, but I want to try some other Peaches Crave first.

Peaches Crave Haint (The gossamer sweetness of delicate white peaches with Arcana Wildcraft’s Haint (white musk, vanilla musk, Madagascar vanilla, sugarcane, and a faint trail of white pepper)) - Definitely a lighter peach scent than PCBS. This one doesn't have as much throw as the other Craves I tried, which are pretty strong and last forever. It's a pleasant scent and might be for you if you want a more subtle peach. Would be a good work scent.

**Pumpkins

Part Three

When Monday came, I found out what kind of party he’d been hosting.

Every piece of furniture was covered with glassware or food plates. Quite a lot of the food served was still on the counters, though I did notice there wasn’t much actual mess. There were no spills I could see on the floors or carpets, and the trash bins that were full had been filled quite neatly, leaving me grateful that I wouldn’t have to spend too much time cleaning.

The largest mess, however, was Mr. Mitchell himself. He greeted me at the door with a visible hangover, squinting his eyes at the sunlight through askew glasses and rushing me inside. His glasses were nowhere in sight. Instead of his usual immaculate clothing, he wore only socks and a kimono clearly designed for someone much shorter than he was. He had thrown it on hastily, and I don’t think he realised half his chest was exposed, revealing one hairy pec and a perfect brown nipple that I couldn’t take my eyes off of. Even more surprising was the sight of a large tattoo on his ribs, a block of text that I couldn’t make out. Part of me hoped he was fully naked underneath, and it was hard to keep looking him in the eye. He handed me a box of heavy duty gloves and a face shield, mumbling at me to “be careful” as I cleaned, before shuffling up the stairs to his bedroom without any further explanation or instructions. Confused, I got undressed, and took a look around.

Everything on the first floor was pretty much the same - just a lot of dishes and glassware to clean, nothing unexpected. A lot of the pillows from the couches had found themselves oddly placed on the floor, but other than that it didn’t look too rough.

The second floor looked only a little dishevelled, until I got to the guest bedrooms. Both of them looked like an orgy had taken place - the mattresses were askew on the bed frames, pillows thrown in every direction on the floor with the rest of the bedding. Even the artwork on the walls looked askew.

It wasn’t long before I realised that an orgy is precisely what had been going on. The waste baskets had random numbers of condoms in them, and I found even more in the bedsheets and pillows. This is why he had given me the protective gear - though after one of the condoms landed on my bare foot, I had wished he’d let me keep my clothes on for this.

I immediately took a shower in one of the guest bathrooms,

For context I'm a Refuse Driver (Garbage man) & today I was on food waste. After I'd tipped I was checking the wagon for any defects when I spotted a lone pea balanced on the lifts.

I said "hey look, an escaPEA"

No one near me but it didn't half make me laugh for a good hour or so!

Edit: I can't believe how much this has blown up. Thank you everyone I've had a blast reading through the replies 😂

It really does, I swear!

Because she wanted to see the task manager.

Below are the House welcome messages from Rowling's original Pottermore. They once showed up when you were 'sorted', and showed a list of famous witches and wizards from that House. It shows how each house views itself and what they think of the other Houses. Well, except Gryffindor. This is JKR's original thoughts on the Houses and some may be surprised, others not at all.

Note: This was originally posted on another subreddit and constantly went from 40+ to 32 up votes varying each few hours. I'm baffled how some could down vote such a thing...but /HarryPotter so should not be surprising.

Gryffindor

Congratulations! I’m Prefect Percy Weasley, and I’m delighted to welcome you to GRYFFINDOR HOUSE. Our emblem is the lion, the bravest of all creatures; our house colours are scarlet and gold, and our common room lies up in Gryffindor Tower.

This is, quite simply, the best house at Hogwarts. It’s where the bravest and boldest end up – for instance: Albus Dumbledore! Yes, Dumbledore himself, the greatest wizard of our time, was a Gryffindor! If that’s not enough for you, I don’t know what is.

I won’t keep you long, as all you need to do to find out more about your house is to follow Harry Potter and his friends as I lead them up to their dormitories. Enjoy your time at Hogwarts – but how could you fail to? You’ve become part of the best house in the school.

Ravenclaw

Congratulations! I’m Prefect Robert Hilliard, and I’m delighted to welcome you to RAVENCLAW HOUSE. Our emblem is the eagle, which soars where others cannot climb; our house colours are blue and bronze, and our common room is found at the top of Ravenclaw Tower, behind a door with an enchanted knocker. The arched windows set into the walls of our circular common room look down at the school grounds: the lake, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch and the Herbology gardens. No other house in the school has such stunning views.

Without wishing to boast, this is the house where the cleverest witches and wizards live. Our founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, prized learning above all else – and so do we. Unlike the other houses, who all have concealed entrances to their common rooms, we don’t need one. The door to our common room lies at the top of a tall, winding staircase. It has no handle, but an enchanted bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. When you rap on the door, this knocker will ask you a question, and if you can answer it correctly, you are allowed in. This simple barrier h

They’re on standbi

Part 1

Part 2

In the night I heard the wind howl and the trees outside violently shake together. It was dark. It was always dark but we had all gotten used to it by then. Since the group of survivors had stumbled to our door the situation only got worse. In only a week the storms had gotten twice as bad. Now they averaged five days in length and I could barely tell what time it was outside. On top of that the length in between storms had gotten shorter. Much shorter. We missed our opportunity and now it seemed the worst had come. We may be forced to stay here the whole winter on little more than a few cans of vegetables. It was an impossible task.

We were rationing our food, and it seemed the effects of hunger were constant. It was livable, but for how much longer? How much longer could we stay?

Each day was longer than the last. Most days we sat by the fire and tried to entertain ourselves in vain. Some people played board games. Others found books to read. Still others talked in a low voice while they looked longingly out the window, hoping they wouldn’t see anything waiting in the storm. But I could tell it was still out there. In the night the screams of the monster blended with the wind. Everybody except me and Beatrice believed our stalker was from the realm of man. If only they knew.

The firewood was running low, but with all these new hands, we had gathered enough to weather another storm before it hit. Our main problem remained food. And whatever was out there.

I sat in the kitchen despite it being colder there. We had filled the bathtub with hot water to heat that room up, so one or two people had relocated there temporarily. But in the kitchen I had enough distance to feel like I wasn’t losing my mind half as much, stuck within a group of survivors. And I had a clear view into the storm outside. Well, as clear as clear could be. Kate joined me for a while and we spoke about what we could do to get out of there, with no success, and then talked about anything else.

One morning, I began to notice that the wind was dying down. I called a meeting in front of the fire and we began bouncing ideas off one another for the millionth time.

“We need to move quickly,” David said. “There’s no telling how long we have. Could be just a few hours. Maybe less.”

“So what, then?” I said. “Eight people is a lot.”

I've just been checking out the new UI changes in the apartment Edit mode, so here are my early thoughts on this update. I'm sure once I have more time to play with it and get better acquainted with the changes, I will have more feedback and suggestions to share, but these are my first impression thoughts.

First off, let me begin by expressing my gratitude for recognizing that for some time that our apartment inventories have been very badly congested and difficult to navigate. Even in some of the dev "AMAs" we had here on Reddit in the past, the featured devs acknowledged awareness of these issues and a desire to give players a better editing experience. So thank you for your work on this update and for taking these steps to try to improve our apartment editing UI. I recognize that these changes took a great deal of time and planning, and were not just dreamed up, recoded, and implemented overnight. I'll start off this review of my early impressions with the things that I like about the new changes, then follow up with areas where I think the new recategorization still needs improvement.

(For those who have not seen the new Edit category tabs yet, they are now listed as follows: Recent Items, Seating, Furnishings, Plumbing, Outdoor, Appliances, Tables, Containers, Beds, Food, Lighting, Entertainment, Vehicles, Petkins, Wall Hangings, and Search.)

As far as I can tell, "Recent Items" contains both our recently purchased items and our apartment daily gifts from our most recently purchased apartment now. I noticed that the addition of daily gifts to this category happened even before this UI update, and I'm thankful for that addition because I often used to waste long minutes trying to find that elusive daily gift, sometimes having to scroll through multiple categories just to find it. So I'm glad you retained this feature in the update.

"Seating" is now comprised of what used to be "Chairs" and "Sofas." While at first glance this would appear to make the category more unwieldy, after scrolling through it I've discovered it also meant putting items that used to be in Miscellaneous in a category where they more logically fit, such as the Sheep decor we can sit on, and the interactive Ikon Serenity Foot Spa chair. I could never figure out why something that looked like a chair and, in fact, IS a chair, would have been sorted into Miscellaneous, so having it now fall under Seating makes it easier for me to find now.

"Furnishings" looks like it is a co

Straight To The Head

"Whoa, doc. I know we go in for the 'traditional' look but this is, uh," James looked at the baroque ceiling beams, hand-carved mantlepieces and rich leather furniture. "This is really over the top."

"It is, isn't it? A great many of my clients are from an older generation. Décor from the turn of the century puts them more at ease." For a professional psychiatrist the short, rail-thin man sitting across from him looked rather... downscale. He seemed perhaps forty years old and sat casually in a wingback chair, legs crossed at the knee, dressed comfortably in a patterned sweater and loose slacks. Fuzzy brown socks poked out of worn loafers.

Amused, colorless eyes regarded the fidgeting youth over wire spectacles. That happened sometimes with the Servants of Night-- they lost eye pigmentation.

"The turn of which century?" James adjusted sideways on the overstuffed couch, trying to find a spot it didn't feel like the thing was going to swallow him. Polished leather made weird squeaky sounds against his designer jeans. "Because I think your desk there has water stains from when it came over on the Mayflower."

The shrink had a good laugh, it turned out. Not too loud, baritone, the kind of sound that made people want to be included. "You might be right. Some of these landscapes are old as well." He motioned at the walls, using a gold pen as a pointer. "That one, there? An early study by Mantegna, I believe."

"The Renaissance painter?"

"You're interested in art, James?" He scribbled something on a pad of paper held over one bent knee.

"Nah. Well, yeah, but you know. Modern stuff, like pop culture today. The Weeknd, Shawn Mendez, that stuff."

"Singers and songwriters, then? You like music?" More notes, flashing gold pen scratching and twirling.

"And other stuff. What are you writing?" He gave up trying to find a spot that didn't squeak and settled back with both hands in his hoodie pouch. "Stuff about me?"

"Of course. Just now I noted you like modern music. Would you like to see?" He held up the pad, reversed. It looked like a bunch of ants doing gymnastics. "My handwriting may be hard to make out."

"Huh. You ever, like, share anything? About your patients?"

The pad lowered again. The pen moved. "Never."

"What if one of the Elders like, forced you? Threw the mental whammy on ya?"

"James, I want you to feel safe talking here." Colorless eyes could convey a lot of sympathy, it turned out. "So let me tell you: I am full

Pilot on me!!

Do your worst!