Clock clipart

Rule

2023.03.25 18:10 Zakal2 Rule

Rule submitted by Zakal2 to 196 [link] [comments]


2022.11.12 16:22 spudmunkey So between customs, I do dabble in other projects and this one has been on my mind for awhile. I did the Bill & Ted's one about 6 years ago and I update it every 4 years per election, so now I did a few more!

So between customs, I do dabble in other projects and this one has been on my mind for awhile. I did the Bill & Ted's one about 6 years ago and I update it every 4 years per election, so now I did a few more! submitted by spudmunkey to transformers [link] [comments]


2022.08.26 04:10 newnationnews What makes a HOF QB?

Where was AHS stories filmed?
Asylum. FOX Studios, Los Angeles. Old Orange County Courthouse, Santa Ana. Hidden Valley, California. via
What rocket is SpaceX launching?
SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket nails launch and landing on record-tying 13th mission. It was the 50th Starlink launch to date. A SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket flew for a record-tying 13th time on Thursday morning (July 7) in a flawless launch. via
How did the Astros and Red Sox cheating?
Some Boston Red Sox fans are accusing the Houston Astros of cheating by using whistles to relay signs to the batters on the type of pitch they were about to get during Game 5 of the American League Championship Series at Fenway Park. via
What basketball player won the most championships?
Boston Celtics center Bill Russell holds the record for the most NBA championships won with 11 titles during his 13-year playing career. via
Where was the E39 made?
BMW 5 Series (E39)Model years1996–2003AssemblyGermany: DingolfingDesignerJoji Nagashima (1992)Body and chassis via
Why does Xbox cost so much?
Xbox is pricier because there is a low demand for its games, unlike the PS4, which has numerous games which have become a hit in the market. Moreover, the PS4 has a larger variety of games. Therefore, the console is more popular than the Xbox One, making Sony flexible in lowering the price. via
Where do they launch from on Cape Canaveral?
Located in the Canaveral National Seashore, Playalinda Beach is one the closest locations to view rocket launches on the Space Coast. With a short walk down the beach, you can be within 5 miles of the launch. It is located within a National Park, so a $10 entrance fee is required. via
Can't connect to cod warzone servers?
This error message is related to network or server connectivity issues. So your outdated network adapter driver can be the culprit and it blocks your access to the server. To fix it, you should update your network adapter driver, especially if you can't remember when was the last time you updated it. via
What happened to Aaron Rodgers and his family?
“Aaron is the one that has pulled away from the family, not the reverse,” a source told US. “When he got together with Olivia Munn, his family told him they didn't trust her and thought she wasn't with him for the right reasons. That made him furious and he ended up choosing Olivia over his family.” via
How many games has Jaguars won?
StandingsAFC SOUTHWPCTTennessee Titans xz* Titans xz*120.706Indianapolis Colts Colts90.529Houston Texans Texans40.235Jacksonville Jaguars Jaguars30.176 via
How many times has lightning hit the Washington Monument?
No one was injured in the incident. According to a report in the Washington Post, a combination of anecdotal and scientific analysis found that the monument is struck “twice per year on the high end and once every five years on the low end.”Aug 17, 2021 via
What is Downers Grove known for?
Downers Grove has developed into a bustling Chicago suburb with many diverse businesses, including the headquarters for Devry University, FTD, Ambitech Engineering Corp, Dover, Heartland Food Corporation, and HAVI Global Solutions. via
Where is the Hall of Fame Game?
Well, preseason football, anyway. The NFL preseason officially kicks off Thursday night with the annual Hall of Fame game, featuring the Las Vegas Raiders taking on the Jacksonville Jaguars at Tom Benson Hall of Fame Stadium in Canton, Ohio. via
Is San Jose rich or poor?
San Jose is one of the wealthiest major cities in the world, with the third-highest GDP per capita (after Zürich and Oslo) and the fifth-most expensive housing market. via
Is Netflix making a Sandman series?
Next up: Netflix's trippy adaptation of Neil Gaiman's The Sandman comic books. All 10 episodes of Season 1 begin streaming on Friday, Aug. via
Did Dre help Eminem?
He is credited in particular with launching the career of Eminem by signing the young rapper to his label Aftermath Records in 1998. Three of Dr. Dre's six Grammy Awards were for his collaborations with Eminem. via
What was the deal for Matthew Stafford?
The Rams have agreed to terms on a contract extension with Super Bowl champion quarterback Matthew Stafford, the team announced on Saturday. The deal is for four years and worth $160 million with $135 million in guaranteed money, a source confirmed to The Athletic. via
Who lives on the White House?
Although the White House serves as the office for the President of the United States, it is also a home for the president, first lady, and their children. via
Who sings on Marvel vs Capcom 2?
(I Wanna) Take You For a Ride (from Marvel vs. Capcom 2) - song by Michael Garrett Steele Spotify. via
How many No 1 albums does Eminem have?
Billboard 200 chart statisticsnn Eminem has had 10 studio albums in the top 10 of the Billboard 200, 9 of them being No. 1. via
Will Artemis 1 orbit the moon?
After 18 years of work, NASA is finally prepared to demonstrate how it will take the next group of humans to the lunar surface. The US space agency is planning to launch an uncrewed mission to orbit the Moon as soon as Aug. 29. The launch, known as Artemis 1, will kick off a multi-year campaign to explore the Moon. via
Who are the favorites to win the Premier League?
The league's top scorer race gets a new favorite in Haaland.n...nEnglish Premier League odds.TeamTitle oddsTop 4 oddsManchester United+4000+150Newcastle United+15000+800West Ham+25000+1200Leicester City+25000+1600 via
How to live stream the NFL?
Connected DevicesAccess the NFL App on Amazon Fire TV to stream NFL Network and NFL RedZone. ... Access the NFL App on Apple TV to stream NFL Network and NFL RedZone. ... Access the NFL App on Roku to stream NFL Network and NFL RedZone. ... Access the NFL App on Android TV to stream NFL Network and NFL RedZone. via
What is the Bee Gees biggest selling song?
Bee Gees Official Top 20 most-streamed songsPOSTITLEYEAR1STAYIN' ALIVE19782HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE19773NIGHT FEVER19784MORE THAN A WOMAN1978 via
How much Xbox Game Pass cost?
Xbox Game Pass Ultimate includes Xbox Live Gold and hundreds of high-quality games. Play games with friends on console and PC and get an EA Play membership – all for one low monthly price. Join now to get your first month for Rs. 50. via
Has anyone been struck lightning?
From 2006 through 2021, there were 444 lightning strike deaths in the United States. Males are four times more likely than females to be struck by lightning. The average age of a person struck by lightning is 37 years. via
How is waffle served?
In many places, waffles are served and eaten with a knife and fork. Pierce the corner of the waffle with your fork, and use the knife to cut off a small, bite-sized piece. Use the fork to pick up the piece and bring it to your mouth. Wait until you chew and swallow before cutting another small piece. via
In what countries is weed legal?
Countries that have legalized recreational use of cannabis are Canada, Georgia, Malta, Mexico, South Africa, Thailand, and Uruguay, plus 19 states, 2 territories, and the District of Columbia in the United States and the Australian Capital Territory in Australia. via
What makes a HOF QB?
To put it in simple terms, a Hall of Fame player must have, at one time, been an elite player at his position. He had to have been someone teams feared. This one is pretty simple. In order for an NFL player to make a Hall-of-Fame impact, he has to play for a long time. via
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submitted by newnationnews to NewNationNews [link] [comments]


2022.03.26 06:59 Cat_Art_ My desktop 1

My desktop 1
HI,I'm cat from Devaint Art.Hope you enjoy my desktop :D
-You can folow me here: catthongmin1304 User Profile DeviantArt
-All Apps-
-Rainmeter:https://www.rainmeter.net/
-Lively Wallpaper:Lively Wallpaper by rocksdanister _________________________________________________________________________________________ -All Files- -Clock:Betto by ApexXx-SenSei on DeviantArt
-Weather:Small Clean Weather Animated! by zivallh on DeviantArt
-Music player:Cleartext for Rainmeter by Redsaph on DeviantArt
-Visualizer:Monstercat Visualizer for Rainmeter by MarcoPixel on DeviantArt
-Dock:Interactive Dock for Rainmeter by not-Finch on DeviantArt
-Icon from:Free Icons, Clipart Illustrations, Photos, and Music (icons8.com)
-Video for livelywallpaper:mega.nz/file/IdBXTbyb#ccsD_heX… _________________________________________________________________________________________
submitted by Cat_Art_ to desktops [link] [comments]


2022.02.25 00:45 L_Leigh Bugs!

I shocked myself by stumbling upon two different errors in affinity products.
  1. I've come across two commercial clipart SVG examples that other programs and the Mac finder appear to interpret correctly, but are misinterpreted by affinity designer.
  2. I've attempted to create my first affinity publisher document using fields from an 600 line Excel file. I didn't watch the clock, but the progress bar ely crept, taking between 1 to 2 hours to load and then it seemed to pause. I let it run many more hours, but I finally killed it that night with force quit. The program was unresponsive and seemed to be in an infinite loop. Unfortunately the program doesn't have a cancel or quit button, so I had to kill the program.
How do I go about reporting bugs? Thank you.
submitted by L_Leigh to Affinity [link] [comments]


2022.02.10 23:19 Acceptable_Sir_6821 Explanation for my desktop

Explanation for my desktop
https://preview.redd.it/rijdwz26z2h81.png?width=3456&format=png&auto=webp&s=7c4c1ca6fec44402b699b189799c2e992f7c6e7f
Since a lot of people wanted me to explain how on my original post (https://www.reddit.com/mac/comments/soy24y/my_really_customized_desktop_dynamic_wallpape), I thought I'd make a separate post explaining how I did everything in depth. Still check out that other post since it shows more of the features but here's the explanation!
Wallpaper: I use a dynamic wallpaper called Exodus which can be found here: https://dynamicwallpaper.club/wallpape1fwttqzokh6. Dynamic wallpaper club is a great place to find all sorts of dynamic wallpapers so don't feel like that's the only one. I had a bit of trouble getting the images to switch how I wanted so I separated the .heic file and just made a folder of images that were cycled through each minute.
Widgets: I used an app called uberschit (https://tracesof.net/uebersicht/) to find the base code for all the widgets I use. It's a bit clunky to find widgets and even harder to find ones that work but it get's the job done. I used the Cute ICAL widget for my ported over google calendar, the IWN widget for the weather, the Particles widget for the little upward moving stars, the Stock Ticker widget for the stock ticker at the bottom, and the Simpledate widget for the date reading at the top center. To get the widgets to work how you want you sometimes have to know some HTML but it's easy enough to figure out. If anyone knows a Spotify widget that actually works I'd love to know.
Diagnostics in the menu bar: I used an app called stats which you can find out more about and download here: https://github.com/exelban/stats. It let's you display almost anything you want for free and is a great alternative to iStat. Also, being able to ramp your fans to whatever speed is a great trick.
Folder icons: I just found clipart that I liked for each folder and used the iPad app procreate to match the color. I then used a random png-maker online to make them png's and then swapped them in as the icons for the folders. You can find plenty of tutorials on youtube on how to do that or somewhere like here: https://www.laptopmag.com/how-to/change-folder-icons-or-color-on-a-mac.
Screensaver: My screensaver is a oldschool looking flip clock which tells the time when my mac is resting. Here's a link to where to download and find out more: https://fliqlo.com/screensave.
Other: I used terminal to edit the speed at which the doc pops up when I hover my mouse there. I feel that normally it moves too slow so I made it quicker. Here's a link to a page full of useful terminal commands like that. https://computers.tutsplus.com/tutorials/40-terminal-tips-and-tricks-you-never-thought-you-needed--mac-51192.

As many people pointed out, yes, all of this does use up some CPU cycles and some ram. I use a base Macbook Pro with m1 pro so I don't mind much but it's definitely something you should be aware of. Let me know if you guys have anymore questions and I hope this helps!
submitted by Acceptable_Sir_6821 to mac [link] [comments]


2022.01.20 07:05 Madhabistudio 100 ALARM CLOCK Clipart Rainbow Alarm Clock Planner Stickers Etsy

100 ALARM CLOCK Clipart Rainbow Alarm Clock Planner Stickers Etsy submitted by Madhabistudio to MadhabiStudio [link] [comments]


2022.01.12 21:44 Surinical I think my wife cheated on me, but that's not scares me.

I think my wife cheated on me in college, but I’m afraid that’s not the worst of it. I would appreciate some help not freaking out.
I found it early on the third day of the project I thought would take an afternoon, wedged tight between a yellowed flipbook of baseball cards, nothing but nickel and pennybacks it would turn out, and a dry-rotted box of moth hole linens, probably worth more than the cards after a wash. I almost threw out the small plastic case along with the box.
It wouldn't have even caught my eye if I wasn't so desperately looking for something to make the purchase of the storage unit worth it, scanning everything. Not a CD case, a floppy disk waited inside, piece of masking tape covering the front labeled F.T.A. I set it on top of the measly pile designated KEEP, right on top of the rickety rocking chair.
"Wow, real treasure there," my wife, Jane said, already wiping off the thin layer of sweat onto a sleeve. It didn't take long for these metal boxes to get hot in the Florida summer. "Might have some clipart on there or if you're really lucky, a fresh copy of Windows 95."
"That's how this stuff goes. You sort through all the junk until you find the one thing that pays for the auction by itself," I said, surveying the last bits of crap we had left to sort through.
"I love you, bun, but you got to realize there's a big difference between reality and reality tele-" she yelled as she threw down the box she was holding and started batting herself. A centipede worked through the handle hole and back into the void within. "Jesus, you're definitely going through that one!"
"It's some kind of game," I yelled from the office later that night. I'd managed to dig out the old floppy disk drive from the ancient computer left in the storage unit and was amazed when I managed to hook it up to my laptop with a little creative adapter use.
I waited to click the game.exe file and looked through the only folder. A bunch of files without extensions, all with random strings of digits, more than seems like should fit on a single floppy disk but I didn't actually remember how big they were. I just remembered the Oregon trail took two.
"Great, really hope it's worth the $500 you blew," Jane called from the kitchen. Her voice got raspy when she was tired. "Because nothing else here is. All this jewelry's fake."
Deciding an apology would just frustrate her more, I held my tongue as I clicked the exe, hoping whatever viruses there were too old to do any damage. I was instantly greeted by jarring midi music and a spinning aerial view of a campus.
--F.T.A-- -Start-
There were no other options. I clicked start. Like a stop motion movie, the camera clicked down quickly down to the ground. The quality of the pictures actually looked pretty good. The whole game seemed to just be a series of images taken at different angles, kind of like Google Street view.
"Huh," I said trying to do some quick math in my head for how much space all these pictures will take on the drive. "Must be a short game."
The camera stopped moving as it centered on a walkway leading into a large building with an arched section showing a courtyard inside. I knew this building. It was the clock tower quad at the University of Southfork, my alma mater, on the other side of the country.
Just as I was pondering the coincidence, white text flashed across the screen, jarring me with that beeping music again.
-Find the Abomination-
I typed all over the keyboard, finally ending the music and causing the text to fade as I figured out you controlled the camera with the Numpad. Each ‘step’ changed the photo to one a little bit more in that direction. Tap, tap, tap and I was walking down the path I took every Tuesday and Thursday to biology. A girl clutching books was walking towards me, a little further with each step, wearing that oh so popular of yesteryear combo of Ugg boots, puffy vest, and a jean skirt.
I tried tapping backward to see if she’d walk in reverse but she continued forwards no matter the direction I moved. Something about that seemed wrong. I tapped my way to her, catching her quickly. The too chipper tone was replaced with a gravelly roar, a bit like a toy with a low battery. A white line highlighted the girl as A question flashed above her.
-Abomination?- -Yes- -No-
Of course, I clicked yes. My stated mission was to find the abomination after all. The screen shook as the outline fully enveloped her then the whole screen turned white. When the photo returned, a wah-wah sound accompanied the words.
-Try Again- -Find the Abomination-
The girl was lying on the walkway now, a thin line of blood coming from her mouth and one of her eyes. What was this game? I heard Jane's footsteps through the bedroom across the hall and checked the time, almost midnight. I’d already blown the whole evening getting this game set up. My cursor hovered over the X on the window before an idea struck me.
I moved past the girl I had apparently killed and turned around. Sure enough, I saw the Fingerfelt Dorm, ugly and blockish as it was a decade ago. I clicked forward, careful to not get close to any of the stutter-stepping students around me on their way to class. I got to the side entrance door, the one that required a keycard to get past. There was no option to open it, only rewarded with an staticy ungh sound as I tried to walk into it.
I tapped back and forth, letting time go forward slowly until the door finally opened. A young man, collar popped around his puka shells, highlighted white as the eerie sound returned.
-Abomination?- -Yes- -No-
I clicked No this time and the outline faded as the proto-douche continued on his way unharmed. I tapped through the open door and into the dorm building I lived in for most of two years, again just as I remembered it. This must have been a school project of some kind, made by a C.S. student taking pictures throughout campus. Maybe it was to show off some kind of image compression technique.
I worked across the common room to the stairwell door and again had to pace in place while I waited for someone, a stressed-looking older student, to open the door for me. I hoped the door to the third floor would be propped open as it always was then realized that was stupid to expect because it was only while I was there that-
The door to the third floor of dorms was indeed propped open. I could have told you the name of the book wedged between the door hinge without looking at it but I tapped myself close anyway. The busted copy of Norton Anthology of American Literature, Volume D. wadded right where my roommate had crammed it. It was his little social experiment to see how long until someone removed it. The surprising answer? A year and a half. So all these pictures were taken while I was a student. What are the chances? The vibration of my phone on the desk shook me from my focus. I had been jaw clenched, leaned so far in I was almost touching the computer screen.
A text from Jane: Take the dog out before you go to bed and don’t spend all night on that thing. We’re waking up early tomorrow.
I sat down the phone and looked back to the strange window into the past. I tapped excitedly down the hallway to room 309 at the end of the corner turn. The door was closed.
I checked all the keyboard keys seeing if there was somehow a door open button I missed. There was not so I began my now familiar back and forth shuffle to progress time as I waited for the door to open. Would I see a younger version of myself? Of course not, I realized. I would have remembered some creep running around taking pictures of me. The door opened and I backed up to see Jane, hair up in a messy ponytail, just a girlfriend back then. It looked like she was wearing my hoodie actually.
I took a picture of the screen with my phone and sent it to her with the caption: Do you remember this? The picture, not the hoodie.
But I could already hear her lightly snoring across the hall so I set the phone down and returned to the game.
It wasn’t that hard to get around when you followed someone, because they opened all the doors for you. This was clearly the way the game was meant to be played. As I tapped along behind her, Jane turned away from her dorm and followed the sidewalk to the streets across from campus. More than one permanently installed beer pong table stood in front yards more rug and astroturf than grass, she was trekking through the classy part of off-campus housing.
She flipped open her pre-smartphone and started a call as she stepped onto the porch of one of the less rundown houses. A bearded guy answered. He looked vaguely familiar. She snapped the phone closed, similing in that sly way if hers.
As I made my way up the steps, the first frozen picture that greeted me was of them locked in an embrace, lips millimeters apart. One more tap and they were connected, kissing passionately. I stopped and rolled myself away from the keyboard.
With a backdrop of tandem snores from Jane and Tanto now, who had apparently given up on me for that walk and gone to bed as well, I started my existential crisis. Somehow, whatever this game was, it had to be real. There’s no way something would have all that real detail in it without actually being real pictures. But no one reacted to the camera so the camera must be invisible or really small somehow. I finally realized what bothered me about the way people moved.
In google street view, there is one picture for each spot you ‘drive’ through because the camera car when through that area only one time. This game doesn’t work like that. There isn’t just one picture for each spot, there’s one every second because you can stand in any spot at any time, or follow someone around. So if there were 10,000 different places to stand in the zone of the game and there were probably more, I hadn’t found the edge yet. I had already progressed time in this game about 2 hours, so that’s 7,000 seconds. That would be 70 million pictures. The answer was obvious, It must work off a server. The floppy disk just has the software to grab the pictures from the internet.
So, with that sorted, I closed my eyes and leaned back letting my heart sink. This was real, however this ‘game’ was made, and this really was my wife, kissing some other guy. I looked back at the screen, irrationally hoping I wouldn’t see them trying to swallow each other, like maybe I missaw it somehow. There they were, kissing still, frozen and waiting for me to walk forward another second.
I looked closer at the guy, and I don’t think I really let myself believe until then. I did recognize him. He worked with Jane at the coffee shop in college. His name was Tucker and always had a shit-eating grin when I stopped by. Past punchable face and into hammerable, if that was a word.
A sudden urge to close the game and try to purge all this from my mind struck me. I tapped forward, making sure to follow them before they closed the door behind them. He was already halfway through getting her, scratch that, my hoodie, over her head. She eagerly raised her hands to help him. I tapped forward again. The white outline surrounded him as the growling music started up. I plugged in my headphones and put them on.
-Abomination?- -Yes- -No-
“Yes, dear game. Yes, please.” The screen filled with white again and returned with Tucker smiling no more, laying face up, blood working down either side of his face. A small pool of it obscured one eye, the other staring up blindly. What confused me was Jane’s face, shirt half on, make-up smeared, she looked horrified, staring down at him. How had the game coded that? Wah-wah, the game answered.
-Try Again- -Find the Abomination-
I tapped closer and she was on the ground beside him, hands preparing to shake him. The white outline covered her now as well. I couldn’t stand to see that look in her eyes. She really cared about this piece of crap. Didn’t he comment something on her profile picture last week? My stomach sank further still. It had bothered me when I thought this was some college fling she never told me about, but I only now considered it might still be going on. We were going to have quite the talk in the morning, Jane and I. For now, a little catharsis.
-Abomination?- -Yes- -No-
“Sorry, Jane,” I whispered, pursing my lips as I pressed Yes, feeling oddly ashamed, like when kid me forgot to feed my Tamagotchi. The white light came and went and Jane laid face down over Tucker’s chest, a single drop of blood on the carpet below her nose.
The dog’s snoring got louder from the bedroom. Do dogs ever need CPAP machines? It didn’t seem to bother Jane, at least. She was sleeping soundly now.
Ding, ding! A new sound greeting me.
-You Win!- -You have wounded the Abomination!- -Level 1 complete-
The screen showed the flashing text as the image panned back on its own up and up, through the roof and up further until the camera or drone or whatever was above the city again. The words faded and the original screen returned.
--F.T.A-- -Start-
I looked at the clock, a little past 1 a.m. I closed the game but didn’t feel the least bit like sleeping, despite feeling ragged as I ever have. Eyes half closed from his nap, Tanto tumbled, into the room in that clumsy German Shepard way of his, eagerly displaying that universal tap tap dance.
“Ready for that walk, boy?” I had to focus on the simple things. Tomorrow would be a hard day. I closed the laptop and tossed on my jacket. The green light still glowed on the floppy disk drive. I unplugged it and after a few seconds it turned off with a click.
I heard the ping of my wife’s phone from her bedside table. I walked quietly across the hall, Tanto at my heels and peaked in. The glow of the phone screen lit up the room, but Jane was still as stones, unstirred by the chirps.
Part of me didn’t want to snoop, but I already had the phone in my hand before I could stop myself. I got her password on the third try, she only had a few she used. I opened the notifications. Three missed calls from a number that wasn’t in her contacts, all in the past few minutes and one voicemail. I hit play before I could stop myself and quickly hammered the volume button down as a girl started loudly sobbing on the other end.
“Hey, it’s Tucker’s sister. He’s really hurt. He fell over and hit his head on the table. Now he’s just laying there. I called 911 but they aren’t here yet. Call me back, I’m freaking out. He’s bleeding from his eye.”
The line clicked and I brought the phone back down. As I stared, a text came through: They said he’s dead. CALL ME BACK.
Another call chirped and I silenced it, letting that last line of the voicemail roll in my head. I shined the camera to the Jane-shaped lump in the bed. I listened. The only sound was the whispered whines of Tanto beside me.
“No,” I said, surprising myself with how neutral my voice sound. “Jane, wake up!” I yelled. “Wake up!” My feet felt pinned in place. One step closer and I could touch her, shake her awake. Unless she was dead, a black thought reminded me. She was still laying there, unmoving.
“No, no, no. It’s just a fucking game.” I backed up to the door and flicked the light on, slowly walking back towards her, looking for what I was afraid would be there. A single drop of blood on the pillow beneath her, dripping from her eye. I saw nothing.
“Unngh,” she yelled, pulling the blankets up to block the light. “What is wrong with you?”
“Oh, thank God,” I said, almost losing my balance with the wave of relief that washed over me. “When you didn’t answer, I thought-”
“I’m not that old, dummy. You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon,” she said, stretching as she sat up. “Now what’s so important?”
“Your phone was going off like crazy.” I handed the phone to her after she finished rubbing her face. “A bunch of missed calls.”
I watched awkwardly as she flicked through her phone and listened to the voicemail. “I think a friend from college is in the hospital. I gotta take this.”
“Sure, sure,” I said, stepping aside as she slipped on her house shoes and robe. Tanto followed after her, clearly giving up on me after I failed him a second time.
I was left alone in the bedroom, staring at something that stopped my breathing with rising fear as one word repeated in my mind. There on her pillow was a small stain, a single circle, not red but darker, black as ink.
Is this all a coincidence? Am I going crazy?
/Odd_Directions
submitted by Surinical to nosleep [link] [comments]


2022.01.10 16:45 Mr-Teach-423 AITA for not using my time for a yearbook?

AITA for not wanting to spend my own time on this?
I’m a yearbook advisor who does this as a club but they said they can’t afford a stipend. And I’m 1,200% tired of working on my own time for no pay. Told them last year I quit, but I’m not tenured, so they said too bad.
I’ve been promised help for 5 years and have nothing. I’m loads behind on deadlines.
I took today off with a personal day to drive my wife to the doctor. It got cancelled, but I’m still off. My time. I’m looking at my laptop and just like “nope. Not touching that. This is my time and I really don’t care if the yearbook is late.”
I know at this point, the yearbook will not meet any of the final deadlines and will be at least 2 weeks late to school.
Edit: So, just to answer a couple things.
  1. I have told them multiple times over 5 years. Requested help. Everything. I mentioned that they’ve been promising it but nothing.
  2. A yearbook takes so many hours. I can’t even begin to tell. And yeah. I work a shit ton off the clock for my classroom and academics. Shouldn’t have to add to that for a yearbook too,
  3. Actually kind of an addition to #2. We do a 70 page, plus cover. We aren’t budgeted enough for a contract that covers the design work. So, it takes about 10 hours per custom design just for each background. 12 different backgrounds. 20 hours for cover. (That’s 140 hours.) Then, cliparts, another 10 hours total. Then, photo editing for all the school portraits that they don’t contract someone for. 25 hours for photography and editing. That’s 175 hours of work just for things that other schools don’t even have their advisors do. 4.5 weeks worth of work unpaid. Then, add in the actual stuff that a normal YB advisor has to do. Filling in the yearbook, managing the staff, organizing and taking pictures at events and games, proofreading every single student’s name in the yearbook time and time again, etc. around 40-60 hours depending on how good my staff is that year. This year… not good at all. Because I’m working with children. So, 235 hours of work, minimum. Unpaid. Almost 6 weeks of work unpaid.
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2022.01.05 13:54 Surinical F. T. A.

I think my wife cheated on me in college, but I’m afraid that’s not the worst of it.
I found it early on the third day of the project I thought would take an afternoon, wedged tight between a yellowed flipbook of baseball cards, nothing but nickel and pennybacks it would turn out, and a dry-rotted box of moth hole linens, probably worth more than the cards after a wash. I almost threw out the small plastic case along with the box.
It wouldn't have even caught my eye if I wasn't so desperately looking for something to make the purchase of the storage unit worth it, scanning everything. Not a CD case, a floppy disk waited inside, piece of masking tape covering the front labeled F.T.A. I set it on top of the measly pile designated KEEP, right on top of the rickety rocking chair.
"Wow, real treasure there," my wife, Jane said, already wiping off the thin layer of sweat onto a sleeve. It didn't take long for these metal boxes to get hot in the Florida summer. "Might have some clipart on there or if you're really lucky, a fresh copy of Windows 95."
"That's how this stuff goes. You sort through all the junk until you find the one thing that pays for the auction by itself," I said, surveying the last bits of crap we had left to sort through.
"I love you, bun, but you got to realize there's a big difference between reality and reality tele-" she yelled as she threw down the box she was holding and started batting herself. A centipede worked through the handle hole and back into the void within. "Jesus, you're definitely going through that one!"
"It's some kind of game," I yelled from the office later that night. I'd managed to dig out the old floppy disk drive from the ancient computer left in the storage unit and was amazed when I managed to hook it up to my laptop with a little creative adapter use.
I waited to click the game.exe file and looked through the only folder. A bunch of files without extensions, all with random strings of digits, more than seems like should fit on a single floppy disk but I didn't actually remember how big they were. I just remembered the Oregon trail took two.
"Great, really hope it's worth the $500 you blew," Jane called from the kitchen. Her voice got raspy when she was tired. "Because nothing else here is. All this jewelry's fake."
Deciding an apology would just frustrate her more, I held my tongue as I clicked the exe, hoping whatever viruses there were too old to do any damage. I was instantly greeted by jarring midi music and a spinning aerial view of a campus.
--F.T.A-- -Start-
There were no other options. I clicked start. Like a stop motion movie, the camera clicked down quickly down to the ground. The quality of the pictures actually looked pretty good. The whole game seemed to just be a series of images taken at different angles, kind of like Google Street view.
"Huh," I said trying to do some quick math in my head for how much space all these pictures will take on the drive. "Must be a short game."
The camera stopped moving as it centered on a walkway leading into a large building with an arched section showing a courtyard inside. I knew this building. It was the clock tower quad at the University of Southfork, my alma mater, on the other side of the country.
Just as I was pondering the coincidence, white text flashed across the screen, jarring me with that beeping music again.
-Find the Abomination-
I typed all over the keyboard, finally ending the music and causing the text to fade as I figured out you controlled the camera with the Numpad. Each ‘step’ changed the photo to one a little bit more in that direction. Tap, tap, tap and I was walking down the path I took every Tuesday and Thursday to biology. A girl clutching books was walking towards me, a little further with each step, wearing that oh so popular of yesteryear combo of Ugg boots, puffy vest, and a jean skirt.
I tried tapping backward to see if she’d walk in reverse but she continued forwards no matter the direction I moved. Something about that seemed wrong. I tapped my way to her, catching her quickly. The too chipper tone was replaced with a gravelly roar, a bit like a toy with a low battery. A white line highlighted the girl as A question flashed above her.
-Abomination?- -Yes- -No-
Of course, I clicked yes. My stated mission was to find the abomination after all. The screen shook as the outline fully enveloped her then the whole screen turned white. When the photo returned, a wah-wah sound accompanied the words.
-Try Again- -Find the Abomination-
The girl was lying on the walkway now, a thin line of blood coming from her mouth and one of her eyes. What was this game? I heard Jane's footsteps through the bedroom across the hall and checked the time, almost midnight. I’d already blown the whole evening getting this game set up. My cursor hovered over the X on the window before an idea struck me.
I moved past the girl I had apparently killed and turned around. Sure enough, I saw the Fingerfelt Dorm, ugly and blockish as it was a decade ago. I clicked forward, careful to not get close to any of the stutter-stepping students around me on their way to class. I got to the side entrance door, the one that required a keycard to get past. There was no option to open it, only rewarded with an staticy ungh sound as I tried to walk into it.
I tapped back and forth, letting time go forward slowly until the door finally opened. A young man, collar popped around his puka shells, highlighted white as the eerie sound returned.
-Abomination?- -Yes- -No-
I clicked No this time and the outline faded as the proto-douche continued on his way unharmed. I tapped through the open door and into the dorm building I lived in for most of two years, again just as I remembered it. This must have been a school project of some kind, made by a C.S. student taking pictures throughout campus. Maybe it was to show off some kind of image compression technique.
I worked across the common room to the stairwell door and again had to pace in place while I waited for someone, a stressed-looking older student, to open the door for me. I hoped the door to the third floor would be propped open as it always was then realized that was stupid to expect because it was only while I was there that-
The door to the third floor of dorms was indeed propped open. I could have told you the name of the book wedged between the door hinge without looking at it but I tapped myself close anyway. The busted copy of Norton Anthology of American Literature, Volume D. wadded right where my roommate had crammed it. It was his little social experiment to see how long until someone removed it. The surprising answer? A year and a half. So all these pictures were taken while I was a student. What are the chances? The vibration of my phone on the desk shook me from my focus. I had been jaw clenched, leaned so far in I was almost touching the computer screen.
A text from Jane: Take the dog out before you go to bed and don’t spend all night on that thing. We’re waking up early tomorrow.
I sat down the phone and looked back to the strange window into the past. I tapped excitedly down the hallway to room 309 at the end of the corner turn. The door was closed.
I checked all the keyboard keys seeing if there was somehow a door open button I missed. There was not so I began my now familiar back and forth shuffle to progress time as I waited for the door to open. Would I see a younger version of myself? Of course not, I realized. I would have remembered some creep running around taking pictures of me. The door opened and I backed up to see Jane, hair up in a messy ponytail, just a girlfriend back then. It looked like she was wearing my hoodie actually.
I took a picture of the screen with my phone and sent it to her with the caption: Do you remember this? The picture, not the hoodie.
But I could already hear her lightly snoring across the hall so I set the phone down and returned to the game.
It wasn’t that hard to get around when you followed someone, because they opened all the doors for you. This was clearly the way the game was meant to be played. As I tapped along behind her, Jane turned away from her dorm and followed the sidewalk to the streets across from campus. More than one permanently installed beer pong table stood in front yards more rug and astroturf than grass, she was trekking through the classy part of off-campus housing.
She flipped open her pre-smartphone and started a call as she stepped onto the porch of one of the less rundown houses. A bearded guy answered. He looked vaguely familiar. She snapped the phone closed, similing in that sly way if hers.
As I made my way up the steps, the first frozen picture that greeted me was of them locked in an embrace, lips millimeters apart. One more tap and they were connected, kissing passionately. I stopped and rolled myself away from the keyboard.
With a backdrop of tandem snores from Jane and Tanto now, who had apparently given up on me for that walk and gone to bed as well, I started my existential crisis. Somehow, whatever this game was, it had to be real. There’s no way something would have all that real detail in it without actually being real pictures. But no one reacted to the camera so the camera must be invisible or really small somehow. I finally realized what bothered me about the way people moved.
In google street view, there is one picture for each spot you ‘drive’ through because the camera car when through that area only one time. This game doesn’t work like that. There isn’t just one picture for each spot, there’s one every second because you can stand in any spot at any time, or follow someone around. So if there were 10,000 different places to stand in the zone of the game and there were probably more, I hadn’t found the edge yet. I had already progressed time in this game about 2 hours, so that’s 7,000 seconds. That would be 70 million pictures. The answer was obvious, It must work off a server. The floppy disk just has the software to grab the pictures from the internet.
So, with that sorted, I closed my eyes and leaned back letting my heart sink. This was real, however this ‘game’ was made, and this really was my wife, kissing some other guy. I looked back at the screen, irrationally hoping I wouldn’t see them trying to swallow each other, like maybe I missaw it somehow. There they were, kissing still, frozen and waiting for me to walk forward another second.
I looked closer at the guy, and I don’t think I really let myself believe until then. I did recognize him. He worked with Jane at the coffee shop in college. His name was Tucker and always had a shit-eating grin when I stopped by. Past punchable face and into hammerable, if that was a word.
A sudden urge to close the game and try to purge all this from my mind struck me. I tapped forward, making sure to follow them before they closed the door behind them. He was already halfway through getting her, scratch that, my hoodie, over her head. She eagerly raised her hands to help him. I tapped forward again. The white outline surrounded him as the growling music started up. I plugged in my headphones and put them on.
-Abomination?- -Yes- -No-
“Yes, dear game. Yes, please.” The screen filled with white again and returned with Tucker smiling no more, laying face up, blood working down either side of his face. A small pool of it obscured one eye, the other staring up blindly. What confused me was Jane’s face, shirt half on, make-up smeared, she looked horrified, staring down at him. How had the game coded that? Wah-wah, the game answered.
-Try Again- -Find the Abomination-
I tapped closer and she was on the ground beside him, hands preparing to shake him. The white outline covered her now as well. I couldn’t stand to see that look in her eyes. She really cared about this piece of crap. Didn’t he comment something on her profile picture last week? My stomach sank further still. It had bothered me when I thought this was some college fling she never told me about, but I only now considered it might still be going on. We were going to have quite the talk in the morning, Jane and I. For now, a little catharsis.
-Abomination?- -Yes- -No-
“Sorry, Jane,” I whispered, pursing my lips as I pressed Yes, feeling oddly ashamed, like when kid me forgot to feed my Tamagotchi. The white light came and went and Jane laid face down over Tucker’s chest, a single drop of blood on the carpet below her nose.
The dog’s snoring got louder from the bedroom. Do dogs ever need CPAP machines? It didn’t seem to bother Jane, at least. She was sleeping soundly now.
Ding, ding! A new sound greeting me.
-You Win!- -You have wounded the Abomination!- -Level 1 complete-
The screen showed the flashing text as the image panned back on its own up and up, through the roof and up further until the camera or drone or whatever was above the city again. The words faded and the original screen returned.
--F.T.A-- -Start-
I looked at the clock, a little past 1 a.m. I closed the game but didn’t feel the least bit like sleeping, despite feeling ragged as I ever have. Eyes half closed from his nap, Tanto tumbled, into the room in that clumsy German Shepard way of his, eagerly displaying that universal tap tap dance.
“Ready for that walk, boy?” I had to focus on the simple things. Tomorrow would be a hard day. I closed the laptop and tossed on my jacket. The green light still glowed on the floppy disk drive. I unplugged it and after a few seconds it turned off with a click.
I heard the ping of my wife’s phone from her bedside table. I walked quietly across the hall, Tanto at my heels and peaked in. The glow of the phone screen lit up the room, but Jane was still as stones, unstirred by the chirps.
Part of me didn’t want to snoop, but I already had the phone in my hand before I could stop myself. I got her password on the third try, she only had a few she used. I opened the notifications. Three missed calls from a number that wasn’t in her contacts, all in the past few minutes and one voicemail. I hit play before I could stop myself and quickly hammered the volume button down as a girl started loudly sobbing on the other end.
“Hey, it’s Tucker’s sister. He’s really hurt. He fell over and hit his head on the table. Now he’s just laying there. I called 911 but they aren’t here yet. Call me back, I’m freaking out. He’s bleeding from his eye.”
The line clicked and I brought the phone back down. As I stared, a text came through: They said he’s dead. CALL ME BACK.
Another call chirped and I silenced it, letting that last line of the voicemail roll in my head. I shined the camera to the Jane-shaped lump in the bed. I listened. The only sound was the whispered whines of Tanto beside me.
“No,” I said, surprising myself with how neutral my voice sound. “Jane, wake up!” I yelled. “Wake up!” My feet felt pinned in place. One step closer and I could touch her, shake her awake. Unless she was dead, a black thought reminded me. She was still laying there, unmoving.
“No, no, no. It’s just a fucking game.” I backed up to the door and flicked the light on, slowly walking back towards her, looking for what I was afraid would be there. A single drop of blood on the pillow beneath her, dripping from her eye. I saw nothing.
“Unngh,” she yelled, pulling the blankets up to block the light. “What is wrong with you?”
“Oh, thank God,” I said, almost losing my balance with the wave of relief that washed over me. “When you didn’t answer, I thought-”
“I’m not that old, dummy. You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon,” she said, stretching as she sat up. “Now what’s so important?”
“Your phone was going off like crazy.” I handed the phone to her after she finished rubbing her face. “A bunch of missed calls.”
I watched awkwardly as she flicked through her phone and listened to the voicemail. “I think a friend from college is in the hospital. I gotta take this.”
“Sure, sure,” I said, stepping aside as she slipped on her house shoes and robe. Tanto followed after her, clearly giving up on me after I failed him a second time. I was left alone in the bedroom, staring at a small stain on her pillow, a single circle, not red but darker, black as ink.
Part 2
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2021.08.18 15:48 Mr_Nooodle Beginners Guide to Solana

Solana is a high-performance cryptocurrency, with the power of executing 50,000 transactions per second without compromising on the 3 Blockchain Qualities — Scalability, Security and Decentralization. Solana has become the fastest next-gen blockchain without having to rely on any layer 2 solution.
Below guide is designed to help understand how Solana works and how it achieves the throughput of 50K TPS. This is the 7th guide in Beginners guides to Crypto projects.
https://preview.redd.it/q00uz40ge4i71.png?width=1772&format=png&auto=webp&s=9f26a6f65eafceed2191988f512e1bdb0cc71caf
Read my Guide to Passive Earning with Crypto
Useful Links: Solana Break Test; PoH; Tower BFT; Gulfstream; Turbine; Sealevel; Pipelining; Cloudbreak; Archivers; More on Staking via SolFlare; Solanabeach
Sources: Solana Whitepaper; Solana Documentations; Web-scalable Blockchain; Forkast Article on Solana; Genesis Block on Solana; Coinmarketcap on Solana; Coinbureau on Sol
ClipArt credits — This infographic has been designed using resources from Flaticon.com
submitted by Mr_Nooodle to CryptoCurrency [link] [comments]


2021.03.18 15:30 MarkDMill Great deals for 3/18, including Toca apps, & more

I looked through over deals and curated over $290 in savings for you. Alright! If I've saved you money, would you kick back a portion and support my work via Patreon or Buy Me a Coffee? Patreon is ongoing with perks for you; Buy Me a Coffee is one-time; both are awesome and super appreciated.
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2021.03.14 07:47 Sad_Clerk69420 I fucking hate amogus in my own style (I fucking hate my dream last night)

I can't fucking take it. I was sleeping and saw a Samsung phone, I fucking saw it. "Oh I wonder what I can do with it". It started as my dream. I'd see a clock, I'd see Godzilla with bad clipart and it was made in Microsoft Office 2010. Then I screen recorded it. And every time I'd watched it I heard the voices of my brother and I playing in my dad's office. I can hear them. The voices of my brother and I playing. It's getting louder and Godzilla roaring. Everytime I screen recorded the clock, I can hear the sound of my dad's office clock ticking I can't fucking sleep like this... I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't! And the voices are ruining my dream. My dad's office is ruined. And my brother and I playing is ruined. And the wall clock in my dad's office ticking is ruined. My dream has ruined my fucking life. MY DREAM HAS RUINED MY FUCKING REM SLEEP! MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP!
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2021.02.07 20:56 Starship_Alpha My Senior Retreat Was Nothing Like I Expected: The Arrival

As the row of school buses pulled into the parking lot, a surge of dread rose up from the pit of my stomach. It all reminded me of a funeral procession, the way the buses crawled forward bumper to bumper. There was good cause for mourning too. I was going to be trapped at Jesus camp for the next four days.
I stepped onto the second bus, without realizing just how messed up this trip was going to get. When I turned to face the seats, a pair of hands clamped down on my shoulders. It was my buddy, John, who reassured me that this retreat was gonna suck. The rest of our group filed onto the bus, gradually filling the space with bodies and noise. I sat by the window to try and figure out which teacher would chaperone our group. They were clustered up outside, undoubtedly fine-tuning the agenda …
“God, I hope we don’t get Wetzler” muttered John, reading my mind.
Wetzler taught History and Religion, but more notably had a giant stick planted firmly up his ass. That stick was named joy and he was determined to crush it. The teachers broke their circle and started heading to their groups. To my dismay, I watched Wetzler’s bald gleaming head saunter over to our bus. With the grace of a hippo, he climbed the stairs and stood at the front to speak to the students.
Wetzler always addressed us as “ladies and gentlemen” even though he made it clear that none of us came close to deserving those titles. He went on to lecture us about how this would be a defining moment in our young adult lives and how we needed to be in a proper mind space to fully appreciate the experience. I knew as well as John exactly what he was ramping up to.
“Now I’m going to pass around this basket, and I want each of you to place your phones and any other electronic devices you may have inside of it. They will be returned to you at the end of the retreat.”
There it was. No phones for four days. John and I exchanged a knowing look as the basket made its way towards us. When our turn came, we just passed it back to the people behind us. I was not giving up my only tether to the outside world.
Wetzler must have sensed that some people hadn’t been totally forthcoming with their phones because he issued a warning. He said anyone caught with a phone on the retreat would face dire punishment. He was so god damn dramatic.
The buses revved their engines and the chatter began to fill the space again. John and I discussed where exactly they might be taking us. We weren’t told ahead of time, that was all part of “the experience.” The ride lasted longer than I anticipated, we were stuck on that bus for about three hours. We left the city for the suburbs, and then suburbs for the country.
The sun was starting to set and all I could see were fields of corn. I wondered just how remote this place was. Wetzler stood up at the front of the bus again. He announced that we were fifteen minutes away and we should start gathering up our belongings.
As if on cue, a huge building peaked over the horizon. It was one of those old nineteenth century mansions. A towering monster of brick and stone. Wetzler told us that this place was called The Estates. Several wealthy families owned The Estates in the past, but now it was considered a historic site. There were other houses on the grounds where retired people lived, and the mansion itself was run by an order of nuns. They cared for the elderly, tended to the grounds, and sometimes hosted religious high school retreats.
The first bus in our procession pulled up to a pair of ornate gates. As far as I could see, the whole place was surrounded in a ten-foot high stone wall. It seemed weirdly excessive to me at the time. The gates opened and we drove down a dirt path until we reached a lot surrounded by cabins. The mansion still loomed large in the distance.
“This place is enormous.” Marveled John.
It really was. Between the cabins, retirement houses, mansion, and sea of trees, this place looked like its own miniature town. Nothing was modern though, almost like we had been transported to the past.
Wetzler directed us off of our bus and we lined up to grab our bags. While we were waiting, a golf cart drove up to meet the us. It was jarring to see it in this otherwise colonial setting. A middle-aged nun stepped out and introduced herself to us as Sister Marian. She explained that with such a large estate, the sisters needed to use golf carts to get around.
After everyone had their bags, Sister Marian instructed our group to follow her. Instead of going to our cabins to drop off our stuff, we ended up in a little clearing where they had started a campfire. Sister said that it was a tradition for all students at the Estates to start their retreat with a moment of reflective silence.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as everyone lowered their head in reverence. What exactly were we supposed to be reflecting on? The sun had completely set by this point, and the only light came from the glow of the fire. The silence was only broken by the chirp of crickets and crackling of the fire. It was actually pretty peaceful; it never got this serene in the city.
The moment was not long-lived though, as a loud buzzing from my pocket broke the quiet. Sister Marian looked up and reminded everyone that phones were not allowed on the retreat. My face grew hot from more than just the fire, and I tried to stealthily silence the culprit in my pocket. For the second time that day I felt a hand grab my shoulder. This time though, I knew it wasn’t John.
“We haven’t been here for five whole minutes, and you’re already causing trouble.” Sneered Wetzler in my ear. “Why don’t you and I take a little ride.”
I could hear John trying to stifle a laugh next to me. Wetzler turned to face him with the same intensity.
“I wasn’t born yesterday, John. You’ll be joining us too.”
So, John and I grabbed our bags and followed Wetzler to a golf cart. We all crammed into the tiny vehicle and Wetzler drove us towards the cabins. Wetzler was going on about the importance of respect and reverence, meanwhile he blew right by our cabins. John shot me a puzzled look and I just shrugged. Wetzler told us we’d be staying in a separate cabin where we couldn’t join the group for any other activities tonight. It seemed like a total overreaction, but there was nothing I could do about it. We drove for a good ten minutes before approaching a lone cabin.
This was where we’d be staying, Wetzler called it the disciplinary dorm. Wetzler confiscated our phones and left the two of us alone in the cabin. We began unpacking and I pointed out that as far as punishments go this wasn’t that bad. We got a free pass on the rest of the activities for the night.
John went into the bathroom to start unpacking his toiletries. He came back out with a concerned look on his face and a piece of paper in his hands. He told me it was taped on the mirror and handed it to me to read for myself. The top of the paper read Disciplinary Dorm Rules. It was furnished with little clipart pictures of crosses and angels. Most of the items on the list were pretty straightforward, but interspersed were some bizarre cryptic warnings.
Disciplinary Dorm Rules
1.You are not to leave the Dorm at any point during the night
2. The Crow comes first. Make sure to keep your distance.
  1. All students should be asleep by 11
  2. The Goat will be hungry.
  3. No cell phones or any other electronics are allowed on the retreat
  4. The Serpent is clever.
  5. Make sure your beds are made before you leave
  6. Don’t look at The Horse
  7. Role Call is at the firepit at 8 o’clock don’t be late
  8. Remember to say your prayers!
“What the hell is up with the parts about the animals?” Asked John, laughing incredulously.
I shook my head, equally confused. It really didn’t make any sense at all. We just sort of went back to unpacking our stuff while still contemplating the strange rules. There wasn’t much else to do in the cabin once we had finished getting settled in. John and I agreed that we might as well just go to sleep. I was tired from the long bus ride anyway and we had to make sure to get up early so we’d make it to the campfire for role call.
I glanced over at the analogue clock on the wall and saw that it was about nine. I must have drifted off after that because the next thing I remember is being shaken awake by John.
“There is someone outside the cabin” whispered John.
I rubbed my eyes, still half asleep. It hadn’t quite registered what John had said. My eyelids were heavy, but I lifted them to talk to John. Now the clock read quarter to 3.
“There is someone outside.” He repeated panicked.
This time I realized what John was saying and turned to look at him. His eyes were wide with terror and his skin looked pale. He lifted a shaking finger and pointed to the window parallel to our beds. It was really dark outside of the cabin. I cautiously stood up and made my way towards the window. John urged me to be careful in a strained whisper. I waved him off and peered through the glass.
Sure enough, about 30 feet from the window I could just barely make out the silhouette of a man standing under a tree. He was totally motionless, and I felt a cold shiver run down my spine.
“You see him, right?”
I nodded back to him.
“What’s wrong with his face?” John asked shakily.
I turned to look at the man again. John was right, his face was misshapen. It looked kind of like an animal. That’s when I remembered the weird note.
“The Crow.” I muttered
The shadowy figure stirred to life and began walking towards the window. I could see that he was holding something in his arms.
I didn’t waste any time. I snapped at John to help me barricade the room. John was really starting to lose it now. He said if it was the crow from the note this must all be part of the retreat. Some weird scared straight type of shit.
I was already pushing my bed in front of the door when I shouted back at John.
“This isn’t a game, John. He was holding an axe!”
John’s breath grew shakier, he was starting to hyperventilate. He pointed out that we should be trying to get help. I knew it wasn’t an option. That guy was right outside the cabin, we wouldn’t be able to get passed him. We had to try and reinforce the exits and arm ourselves. I could feel the adrenaline pumping as I pushed a wardrobe in front of the window.
John was trying to help too, heaving the nightstand on top of the bed I had propped in front of the door. My mind was racing trying to find a weapon. John and I both jumped when we heard the distinct sound of shattering glass. He had broken through the window. I screamed at John to hold the wardrobe in place. John began to cry in terror, but he still pushed his body up against the wardrobe.
I flung open the bathroom door and looked around frantically. Outside I could hear the axe ramming into the back of the wardrobe. Thunk. My eyes settled on the shower bar. Thunk. I leapt up on the lip of the tub and started pulling with all my might. Thunk. John called from outside telling me to hurry. Thunk. I pressed my foot up against the wall to try and get more leverage, but the bar wasn’t budging. Thunk. I didn’t have enough time. I jumped down from the tub and yanked the lid off the back of the toilet. Thunk.
“John clear the front door!” I shouted, running out of the bathroom. John ran from the wardrobe and began frantically pushing the pile away from the door. Thunk. The wardrobe fell forward slowly and hit the ground with a colossal bang. There was no barrier between us and The Crow now, and I got my first good look at him. The mask was incredibly detailed, covered in real jet-black feathers and a pointed metal beak. The eyes were the most terrifying part, the two glass spheres seemed to pierce right through me.
The Crow grabbed onto the windowsill and started to hoist himself through. As soon as his head was through the frame, I slammed the toilet lid into his skull. He let out a cry of pain and fell backwards. I ran over to John to help him move the bed away from the door and we both sprinted outside. I didn’t know if The Crow was still conscious or not, but I didn’t want to find out.
The intensity of the situation really hit me as we raced back to the main cabins. I felt the overwhelming urge to vomit but pushed it down. I didn’t know if we were still being chased or not. We ran through the darkness for several minutes. We couldn’t hear anything except our own strained breathing and the snapping of twigs underfoot. I could see a faint light glowing up ahead but couldn’t tell what it was. As I got closer, It became clear that it was the tail light of a golf cart parked under a few trees.
John and I screamed out for help while we barreled towards the cart. There was no response. It must have been empty. John made it to the cart just before I did. Then he stopped dead in his tracks.
“What’s wrong John?” I called ahead.
He stayed silent, and as I ran up beside him, I found out why.
The Cart hadn’t parked beneath the trees, it had crashed into one. There in the driver’s seat slumped forward was Mr. Wetzler. His head hung over the steering wheel with a trail of crimson red blood running from his forehead down to the floor of the cart. His eyes stared off in the distance, but the shocked expression on his face was preserved.
He was murdered.
submitted by Starship_Alpha to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.06.14 17:49 GreenMilks Apple Baby Vidoo : Story Submission [Another part may be made]

When I was in college, I loved horror. Whether it be movies, television, or books, I’d gobble it up, emptying my wallet in seconds. However, starting junior year, my buds and I would often stay up late reading online stories of all types to each other, whether it be the lost episodes of yore or the mentally-damaged serial killers of present. I remember sitting around a campfire, printed files in my hand, reading each page like it was gospel, and all my friends were my personal congregation. However, one story which stood out was this quaint chronicle, known as “Happy Appy”.
“Happy Appy” was one of those pastas which I had a guilty pleasure though. The references to 9/11, the sudden integration into real-life, the progressively degrading quality of the media, those added a cheesy factor many of my friends disliked. Over time, it has fallen by the wayside. Many don’t know much about it, and not many of my friends even remember me ever mentioning it, as if it deleted itself from our collective memory. But I remembered. Every bit of it.
As I moved on with life, I left the horror scene. I got a regular job in the city, married a long-loved sweetheart, and had a child. We named him Anthony. Anthony was a techie from birth. He’d often look over our shoulders as we worked on quarterlies, and stared at our cursor going up and down, dispensing numbers from its magical pocket dimension. He’d get excited whenever we saved a file and reopened it. He’d coo at the most seemingly arbitrary things. Because having him constantly by our side while we working was inconvenient, we decided to give him access to YouTube.
Of course, YouTube is often influential in the worst way, so we decided to try to find content and channels that were appropriate for him. Educational content was too sophisticated for his newly-made mind, and a large amount of kids’ videos were just people dressed in Elsa and Spiderman costumes doing questionable acts. Most others were underwhelming and vapid animated CGI abominations, so we lost a bit of hope.
Eventually, after a lot of sleuthing and a lot of asking around, we found this small channel called “APPLE BABY VIDOO”. Surprisingly, despite its age of three days, it already had about a hundred videos uploaded to its page, all organized into a neat playlist. All the videos had real life thumbnails, with puppets and everything. My wife told me I should watch it in case it was hiding anything sketchy, and I agreed. Besides, at worst, I thought, it would be boring and insipid to watch, not revolting.
That evening, after I tucked little Tony into bed, I clicked on the playlist listed on their channel page, labeled “Episodes”. The first video’s thumbnail had a titular low-quality apple image with a smiley face crudely traced onto it. The apple had a few mismatched arms on it, pointing to a chalkboard with the letters of the alphabet on it. The video started with the channel’s name being displayed in the center of the video. After a Windows Movie Maker wipe transition, the apple appeared, holding a stick in its arm.
It introduced itself: “Hello, kids! Welcome to Apple Class!”
A grainy five-second applause followed, punctuated by a Comic Sans caption.
“Today we will learn about words!” the apple pulled out a stick of chalk, writing a few letters on the chalkboard. “Now, do you know what these letters are?”
The video cut to generic classroom stock footage, the kids staring ahead with waiting eyes. Then, it cut back to the apple, who looked dead forward for what felt like a minute. I checked the time indicator: ten seconds. The apple continued, writing the rest of the letters in order. “Repeat after me!”
Accompanied by joyful xylophone-laden music, the apple pointed at each letter with a long stick, a crowd of children yelling the letters as he pointed them. But after they went through the alphabet once, they started again without any transition, going from “Z” to “A”. I checked the progress bar: ten minutes left. As I scrubbed through the rest of the video, it was just more and more letters, repeated over and over again. I, an office worker writing quarterlies from nine to five, was getting bored from this, so one could imagine how a spontaneous toddler would react. Frustrated, I typed my grievances in a comment:
“Isn’t ten minutes a bit much for the alphabet song?”
I checked the neighboring comments. Most were made by users with the word, “apple”, in their name. Appleboy, TheApple29, xXAppleXx, etc. They all gave the video rapturous praise, with some saying it changed their life and gave them faith in God. It was odd, but I figured it was a collection of bots trying to help the channel and nothing worse.
I checked the rest of the thumbnails. Most were similar, with the title text being changed to accompany the subject of the video. I checked the clock hanging on the wall, eleven o’clock. I put the playlist on shuffle, and decided that I would stop watching and midnight and report everything was well.
The second video was based around animals. The titular apple, this time, showed up in one of those hats the dinosaur guys wore in Jurassic Park, giving a sly wink to the camera. Perhaps there would be more personality in this video, I thought to myself, clicking the play button.
The apple introduced himself once more, before pulling out a picture. The picture was of a cat, and, predictably, the crowd of children repeated “cat”. This proceeded for about five minutes, with about fifty animals being shown and announced. As the video proceeded, the animals began to become less prominent, with humans even showing up in a few of the pictures, as if whoever made the video got the pictures from safari albums on Facebook. Eventually, the apple pulled out a picture of himself, his smile wider than before:
“Now, who is this?”
The video cut to the children, mouths agape. They cheered, “Our hero, Appy!” A loud applause broke out, accompanied by “Mary Had a Little Lamb” played on cheap synthesizers and xylophones. The footage faded to black, and the video was over. I looked into the comments again. More praise. More applause. Lots of praying emojis. Some claimed that the apple held all knowledge, and others claimed the apple cured the children of various ailments. The weirdest part was that there were about ten thousand of these comments, and from the hundred I have seen, they all seemed the same. These bots were oddly coordinated, I whispered to myself, before choosing another video at random.
The next video was about occupations. Appy wore a kooky expression on his face, donning a chef’s hat. The apple introduced himself, pulled out more pictures, and repeated the jobs. This time, Appy described the jobs, sometimes with an amount of detail more appropriate for a PhD candidate than a toddler. He’d spend minutes describing the societal importance of the chef, and the craft of cooking, as an example. The oddest moment that episode was when he pulled out a picture of a police officer. Unlike the other pictures, it wasn’t drawn clipart, but a real-life picture of a police chief giving a speech.
Appy introduced the occupation after repeating its name with the kids: “This is a police officer. They are supposed to make sure we don’t hurt each other!” The kids briefly applause, before Appy slammed the long stick he used onto the desk, silencing them.
“But, these people are bad for us.”
The video zoomed in on a child who raised his hand, “But Appy, isn’t getting hurt bad?”
The apple answered promptly: “No! Getting hurt for education isn’t a problem. That’s why police officers are bad!” Appy left his desk, and through crappy animation, hit the child with the ruler and the palm of his hand. The child screamed, nearly blowing out my headphone speakers in the process. Appy scolded him, saying, “See, wasn’t that great?”
Another roar of applause and laughter filled the classroom, with Mary Had a Little Lamb concluding the remaining minute of the video. I checked the comments, because, clearly, Appy had done something bad. Yet, the comments were once again overwhelmed with praise, with some accounts shaming the child and his parents. Appalled, I reported the video and closed my laptop for the night. I thought it would be over then. Anthony would go back to his usual regimen of Billion Surprise Toys, and I would forget that APPLE BABY VIDOO even existed. Little did I know that an old demon had come back to haunt me.
submitted by GreenMilks to BattleForRedditSilver [link] [comments]


2020.02.06 22:17 Anony-mouse_02 My manager made me cry at work. I’m so ashamed. How should I go to work tomorrow?

I’m not sure if this belongs here, but I would like some advice. Sorry for any grammar mistakes. I’ve added some back story, but you can skip to the [PRESENT] part. TLDR at bottom.I currently work at a custom t-shirt shop as a graphic designer. It’s fun! There are currently 4 of us working there total: the store owner, the manager (who is the store owner’s son), my co-worker, and I.
I like the store owner! She’s really fun, and nice, and we can joke around. I feel like I can talk to her without worry. On the other hand, the manager and I have bumped heads quite a bit recently, so I’ll give you a bit of backstory. The store gives us a special employee discount, and we get to print the stuff ourself. We’d have to print them before store opening or after store closing. After closing, I printed two shirts and left.
The next day, I get called into his office (which is just the back of the store). He asks me, “Do you like working here?”
I said yes.He said, “Good, because I like you working here.” He proceeded to tell me that because I didn’t clock out before I printed my shirts, I could be fired. And that it was surprising that I printed those shirts, when I don’t take interest in printing (which he usually takes care of). He almost never lets me print customer shirts, and I didn’t know I was supposed to stop what I was doing and go watch him print shirts. I apologized and said I wouldn’t do it again. I haven’t.
There was a time that I was completely at fault, where I forgot to add a certain aspect on a design before it was printed. I was on vacation by the time the mistake was caught. I took full responsibility and was apologetic. When I got back to work, it was just my manager and I in the store. “Pain in my ass.” He said.“Me?” I asked him.“Reprinting these shirts.” He said. Understandable, I apologized again. Another time, I had forgotten to place a file in a folder. The next day I personally received a typed letter about all the stuff I did wrong, and about how the last straw was the file mishap. It ended with “you are loved and appreciated” which made me think he as going to fire me. He didn’t.
This started making me really nervous and anxious at work, the feeling that I never knew what I was going to forget and end up getting in trouble for next.Recently, my hours are being significantly cut as my manager said, “store is tight on money.” I understood, but was a bit annoyed that my co-worker got to keep all her hours, while mine got cut from 20 hours to 8 hours a week. She does a bit more than me and worked there a little longer than I had so I didn’t hold it against anybody.[PRESENT]
Our store usually uses clipart for fast designs, which I use for customer designs. There’s just something about taking a clipart design, slapping it on a shirt as a “store design” that doesn’t really sit well with me. I prefer to try and make designs by scratch that the store can actually own. Since there weren’t any customers coming in, I made a fiesta design that looked like a paper picado (?) Mexican paper banner that I was actually really proud of. It did take a few hours, since it was from scratch.The next day I was called into the “office” again for a sit down.Manager tells me that the design I made was not good. “I wouldn’t want to put that on my shirt, would you?”I said yes. He said that it’s not fair to my co-worker that we get paid the same, when she does so much, but I end up doing stuff like this. I told him that I try not to use clipart when it comes to original stuff.
“Why? Just use clipart. It’s fast and easy. [Co-worker] can use clipart and make a lot of designs quickly.”I told him that my co-worker and I have different ways of creating designs, and that’s fine, I just want to make stuff that the store can actually own.
He told me that because I take too much time for designs, that my pay was going to be cut from 12/hr to 10/hr. So I can either keep working for 10/hr or find some where else to work. This really hit me hard because of all the bills that are piling up. I have student loans, car payments, and an adobe subscription that has screwed me.
The stress of not knowing what I was going to get in trouble for everyday, while trying to get on his good side, just got to me. The part that really set me over the edge was that I wasn’t good enough. It seemed like a big kick in the gut. That my art isn’t good for this small shop, and if it wasn’t good enough for this place, that it probably wasn’t good enough anywhere. I put a lot of effort into this design, only to have it slammed into my face, and it felt like that I was being punished because of it. My pay was being cut because my designs weren’t good enough. I couldn’t take it.I cried.
I cried in front of him, and I’m so ashamed. I said I needed to think about it, and went home for the day where I bawled my eyes out in the car. I ended up texting the store owner about what had happened and asked for her opinion. That I’m already working a second job (as a photo booth operator), but I’m worried that I’ll have to find another job. I also asked if my designs haven’t been up to store standard.
She told me, that my designs didn’t have to do with the cut of my hours and pay, and that she loves my designs, its just that taking a few hours eats up into store profitability. The store has never made profit, but this month is extra hard. They offered me a cut of pay so they’d be able to keep me because they really like me. If I have to look for a job elsewhere she understands.
My cut of pay and hours had almost nothing to do with my designs. Yet, my manager made it sound like that was the primary reason for the cut. He made it seemed like I was being punished for not being good enough, and that’s what really made me cry. Why did he make me feel like he was punishing me, and that I had to make the choice to leave myself?I ended up letting both know that I will continue working with them, and will use clipart more. I also swallowed my pride and ended up telling my manager I was sorry.
I’m so embarrassed and mortified that he got me to cry. He made me cry about something that wasn’t even the point. How do I go into work tomorrow without letting my anxiety get the better of me? Why would he word it to make my designs at fault? I’m ashamed, and nervous about tomorrow.
TLDR: Manager says my designs and how much time I take are why my pay is being cut. I cried. Store owner says that’s not the reason. How do I keep my head held up high at work tomorrow.
submitted by Anony-mouse_02 to TwoXChromosomes [link] [comments]


2019.10.16 00:40 Dogs_Not_Gods Minor complaint: card design

I just got the condition cards, and critical hit and fumble decks. I want to preface by saying the content is great, and these cards are a big help for any GM. The condition cards do the job of putting easy to read and understand info about various conditions players will encounter, and are great to have on hand to give to players. Likewise the crit hit and fumble decks are a really fun addition, and my players have loved what they add to the game.
That said, I'm a little disappointed in the card design, specifically the artwork. One overlooked aspect of this game I have really liked is how the game LOOKS. All the materials have a very distinct style and formatting. It makes it look like the well-thought game it is, professional even.
So, I'm a little disappointed when the icons for each condition card looks like clipart? There doesn't even seem to be a set art syle. It's not minimalist, or iconography, there's not even a set color palette. Blinded is a blindfold, doomed is a hand, quickened is a clock. It lacks the same cohesiveness I liked about the 1E cards with the goblins. I wish they'd done the same thing here. Maybe not full painted goblins, but like monochromatic goblin outlines doing each of the things, like a goblin holding its eyes for blinded, a scared goblin for doomed, a running goblin for quickened. I think Piazo can do it which is why I'm surprised that they didn't.
Same for the crit and fumble decks. The bludgeon, piercing, slashing, and spell icons could be better, but I'm more disappointed by the back. It's pretty messy art of a goblin and mech dying. I was looking forward to something looking like the placeholder images for the card boxes with the same red/gold scheme of the CRB and maybe a pic of a goblin, like they did for the condition card box. But then it got changed to this artwork. It's not bad art, it just looks messy, and not in line with the sleek and clean look that is 2E.
I still think these are essential decks, I just would have liked them to look more like the rest of the 2E materials. I will probably wait on getting the other decks until I know what they look like.
submitted by Dogs_Not_Gods to Pathfinder2e [link] [comments]


2019.08.07 05:45 SectionTwelve Am I the only person who sees the hands on the analog clock at a time like 8:15 and think they look like a musket/old rifle?

I looked through 10 pages of Google for a post relating to ANYTHING like this and couldn't find it. This is a tendency I've had since I was little. I tend to see the hands in certain positions like a musket or old 19th century rifle (8:15), or sometimes a (crudely drawn) handgun (~6:15). The minute hand is the barrel and the hour hand is the butt of the gun. Depending on the shape of the hands, the area where the two meet in the center of the clock can be a little sight. I always get a lot of satisfaction from looking at the hands in these positions. It's obviously just the shape of the upside-down 120 degree angle, but I swear I see the resemblance every time.
submitted by SectionTwelve to NoStupidQuestions [link] [comments]


2019.06.04 22:32 Grabenkrieg [PC][90s?]Mining/Demolition/Construction game for kids?

Platform(s):PC, probably windows 95-98.
Genre:Educational, vehicle-based, heavy equipment?
Estimated year of release:95-99?
Graphics/art style:Very cartoony, that sort of windows 95 educational artstyle.
Notable characters:Honestly can't remember any. There was a foreman/site boss type character at the sign in screen I think? There might have been an old Yosemite Sam-esque prospector in the dynamite section.
Notable gameplay mechanics:When you start the game you're prompted to choose your profile at the job site trailer, which has an old-timey card time clock sort of like this:
http://clipart-library.com/img/613227.gif
I think there's also a steam whistle. There's a few different activities you can do, one involves planting dynamite bundles on a cliffside to uncover things (I think there can be dinosaur bones), another has you controlling a magnet on a crane I think. There's definitely more but my memory is really hazy.
Other details:I am not talking about Tonka or the Matchbox Caterpillar games, though there are some similarities. It's reminiscing about those games that made me remember this one.
submitted by Grabenkrieg to tipofmyjoystick [link] [comments]


2018.09.06 04:10 TeresaRScruggs [Kindle] The Golden Tower (Magisterium #5) by Holly Black

[Kindle] The Golden Tower (Magisterium #5) by Holly Black

https://i.redd.it/j2sk235ras121.jpg
The final, thrilling instalment in this extraordinary series from bestselling authors Holly Black and Cassandra Clare.
A generation ago, powerful mage Constantine Madden came close to achieving what no magician had ever achieved: the ability to bring back the dead. He didn't succeed . . . but he did find a way to keep himself alive, inside a young child named Callum Hunt.
Facing up to what he is, Callum has battled chaos and evil across four years of magical training at the Magisterium, eventually defeating the armies of chaos in an epic battle.
It came at a cost.
Now, triumphant and heartbroken, Callum Hunt has just about had enough, and is ready to complete his training. But the evil Callum faced has not given up just yet...READ MORE►►

Details of Book
Author : Holly Black
ISBN : B0786YJP4B
Number of pages : 256 pages
Editor : RHCP Digital
Date of Publication : September 6th 2018

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2018.03.21 02:13 polarc Help me with a motivational slogan for new HVAC students t-shirts...

Working on getting shirts printed for students in State Technical College (Trade School). This will be given to new students as a tangible remindemotivator for students to proudly wear for their buddies/parents/etc to see.
We've never done this before. We're hoping to grow further our student retention with these.
(I'm halfway thinking about putting (in reverse, so only they can see it) SC 10-15 on the upper right shoulder, SH 8-12 in the upper left. Then they can look in the in the mirror and forever see "insider knowledge" and their buddies will ask them what SH is or SC. I joke that my students should get that tattooed on their left and right wrists so when they hold gauges they'll know which side to compute from. (YA GOTTA learn how to tell time on an analog clock (gauges) before the easy digital time (gauges))
What say you for proper slogans that would appeal to you?
Any links to good looking free appropriate clipart?
SLOGANS? :) Ah come on! What's a good one?
submitted by polarc to HVAC [link] [comments]


2017.05.18 14:00 starvegamer clock

hi dev im asking to ad a clock morning to night it will be helpful for us. (check the link for helpful image) https://clipartfest.com/categories/view/45261b83735c3029588ea506fb35a9c35147041b/day-night-clock-clipart.html
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