There have been further attacks on properties in County Down in a dispute between rival factions of the Ulster Defence Association (UDA).
Detectives said there were petrol bomb attacks on a house in Bangor and a block of flats in Newtownards.
No one was injured in the latest attacks. The police say they are the latest attacks in a row between two drug gangs.
A series of attacks in recent days are believed to be linked.
There has been a large police presence in parts of north Down.
The Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI) said officers were called at 21:20 BST on Tuesday to a petrol bomb attack on a house in Ballyferris Walk, Bangor.
Officers then received a report of damage being caused to a property in Glenbrook Road in Newtownards.
At least two men threw a brick through the front window and poured petrol onto the driveway, the PSNI said.
At 21:40 there was a petrol bomb attack at a block of flats in Wallace Place in Newtownards.
"These incidents are linked to an ongoing feud between two rival drug gangs and police are following a number of lines of enquiry," said a police spokesperson.
On Monday, police said eight other houses had been attacked since last Wednesday, many of which were occupied.
Officers said those attacks were linked to an ongoing feud between "two rival drug gangs operating under the banner of the Ulster Defence Association in the North Down and Ards areas".
The UDA was formed during the Troubles but began to splinter into criminal gangs once the conflict ended.
2px presentational grey line What is the UDA? The Ulster Defence Association, formed in 1971, had tens of thousands of members at its peak.
It killed hundreds of people during the Troubles in Northern Ireland and often claimed responsibility for sectarian murders using the cover name the Ulster Freedom Fighters (UFF).
The UDA remained a legal organisation until it was banned in August 1992.
Notorious attacks by the UFF included the shooting dead of five Catholics at a Belfast bookmakers in 1992 and the Greysteel massacre the following year.
The South East Antrim Ulster Defence Association is a standalone faction of the UDA and was once part of its inner council.
Security sources have previously said that with more than 2,000 members, it is one of Northern Ireland's largest paramilitary gangs.
According to a previous MI5-police intelligence assessment, the South East Antrim UDA"has access to arms and is heavily involved in drugs supply, community coercion, intimidation and other criminality.
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-northern-ireland-65069992

TLDR: FINRA has access to what in any other organization would be considered massive amounts of insider information. It also has a massive conflict of interest in the form of a 1.6 Billion dollar investment portfolio. The portfolio of the Self Regulatory Agency is largely unknown and is largely (if not completely) unmonitored by any other regulatory agency(s).
I would be really, really curious to know how much of that portfolio is short?
In addition to massive conflicts of interest and minimal supervision from the SEC, FINERA does not appear to be directly accountable to Congress, rather than direct accountability FINRA instead invests a lot of money in lobbying. In 2012, it spent $960,000 as it pushed for legislation that would allow it to expand its regulatory reach to include RIAs, who are now primarily regulated by the SEC.
FINERA should have no ability to halt any stocks or securities while it is invested in the very markets it purports to regulate.
https://www.mercatus.org/media/46396/download
”LACK OF ACCOUNTABILITY”
”By law, the SEC is in charge of Finra and has the power to approve or reject any rules Finra wants to adopt. But it applies little more than a rubber stamp to Finra’s rules, critics say.”
“In practice, Finra operates with substantial independence from the SEC,” Hester Peirce, a senior research fellow at the Mercatus Center at George Mason University, noted in a 2015 paper. “Finra rules do not typically attract close attention from the SEC commissioners.”
”Finra operates with substantial independence from the SEC.” - Hester Peirce
(Source deleted)
”The Government Accountability Office likewise found that the SEC could be doing a better job of overseeing Finra in a 2012 report and a follow-up report in 2015. In the follow-up report, the GAO said the SEC had improved its monitoring of Finra but that it still needed to develop specific performance goals and measures for Finra oversight, formalize documentation of oversight determinations and perform an assessment of Finra’s internal risks related to staffing and priorities.”
https://www.investopedia.com/ask/answers/how-does-finra-differ-sec/
“Although it has regulatory powers, FINRA is not part of the government. It is a not-for-profit entity and the largest self-regulatory organization (SRO) in the securities industry within the U.S.”
”FINRA stands for "Financial Industry Regulatory Authority" and is a not-for-profit organization overseen by the SEC that seeks to protect investors by primarily overseeing all brokers in the securities marketplace. It lays out specific laws and requirements and provides certificates for individuals to be able to operate in the securities market.”
”FINRA is responsible for overseeing virtually all U.S. stockbrokers and brokerage firms and providing avenues and legal certifications for those individuals to appropriately operate in their specific marketplaces.”
https://www.wsj.com/articles/wall-street-regulator-is-also-an-investorwith-meager-returns-1507195803
”Finra's $1.6 billion portfolio has returned 3.4% annually, versus 6% for a half-stock, half-bond portfolio.”
https://www.investmentnews.com/finra-denies-wsj-report-that-regulator-has-underperforming-portfolio-72391
”Finra denies WSJ report that regulator has underperforming portfolio. Regulator says Journal's analysis makes improper comparison of returns.”
”From Finra’s origins in 2004 through 2016, the Financial Industry Regulatory Authority’s actively managed $1.6 billion investment portfolio has returned 3.4%, or $440 million less than a 6% return had the self-regulator invested in a balanced mix of global stocks and U.S. bonds, according to Wall Street Journal calculations of figures in Finra’s annual reports.”
https://www.investmentnews.com/finra-whos-watching-the-watchdog-72102
”Finra wields enormous power over the lives of brokers and broker-dealers. Last year alone, it issued more than 1,400 disciplinary actions and barred more than 500 brokers from the industry. And yet people in the industry know little about how Finra operates, how it spends the millions it collects in membership fees and fines, and how it sets its regulatory agenda. Finra writes its own rules, meets behind closed doors and releases information if and when it deems necessary.”
”Finra is the watchdog that no one is watching. “It is largely unaccountable to the industry or to the public,” David Burton, a senior fellow in economic policy at the Heritage Foundation, wrote in a February report. “Due process, transparency and regulatory-review protections normally associated with regulators are not present, and its arbitration process is flawed. Reforms are necessary.”
”In an InvestmentNews survey of 363 readers who are regulated by Finra, nearly half — 48% — said the organization is not doing a good job of regulating brokers, compared with 29% who said it was. Meanwhile, 61% said Finra is not transparent about its finances, and the same percentage said the SEC’s oversight of Finra is inadequate.”
“Is it [Finra] a government or not a government agency? As long as there’s not a choice for brokers, it’s a monopoly – and monopolies need to be regulated.”
”Jim R. Webb, CEO, Cape Securities Inc. Jim R. Webb, CEO of broker-dealer Cape Securities Inc., is frustrated that Finra acts like a government agency but does not have to follow the laws that govern public agencies. For example, it is not subject to laws that would allow the public to attend its meetings, nor is it subject to the Freedom of Information Act, which allows anyone to request information about any matter from a federal agency.”
”Finra protects itself from lawsuits from members by claiming that as an SRO it has absolute immunity from private lawsuits challenging the conduct of its regulatory mission.”
“There needs to be definition,” Mr. Webb said. “Is it a government agency or not a government agency? As long as there’s not a choice for brokers, it’s a monopoly — and monopolies need to be regulated.”
From a seeking alpha article that I cannot link due to Reddit blocking the site. (just search for the title, top result)
Why Does FINRA Have An Investment Portfolio?
Oct. 11, 2017 12:10 PM ET By Roger Nusbaum, AdvisorShares ETF Strategist
”FINRA has an investment portfolio with a long track record of underperforming a 50/50 portfolio.”
”So, here’s a weird one involving FINRA that you might have picked up in the last few days. Apparently, it has a large, $1.6 billion investment portfolio, and the returns have been weak, according to the Wall Street Journal, underperforming a 50/50 equity/fixed income portfolio for quite a few years.”
”The WSJ article is woefully incomplete. It doesn’t say what the purpose of the portfolio is, it is unclear how it can even have a portfolio, and there are no specifics as to what the portfolio is benchmarked to other than a reference to a custom benchmark. The origin goes back to 2004, and it came out of the blocks trying to emulate the college endowments, which back then were revered. As a side note, the tide may have gone out some for quite a few of the endowments, but there is still plenty to learn about asset allocation from them.”
”As the story goes, the FINRA portfolio decided to significantly reduce its equity exposure in, um….2009. The article provides no details on how much equity exposure it had back then, but the portfolio underperformed a 50/50 in 2008, or how much it has now, but there is a quote from a spokeswoman about targeting a “much more conservative approach than a 50/50 benchmark.”
The rolls and activities of our regulatory agencies needs to be seriously examined and heavily re-evaluated.

There are many murders in the United States, but the murder of Dorothy Jane Scott is particularly bizarre, similar to the Zodiac Killer that shook the United States and was committed by using telephone forecasts. Dorothy Scott was a middle-aged single woman with a son, about five years old, living in Anaheim, California, USA. She usually drops the child off at her parents' house when she goes to work, and picks him up after she leaves work.
She lives a very simple life and usually just reads to the child at home and puts the child to sleep. However, one day, after receiving a call from an unknown man, her life changed completely. The man was constantly threatening her over the phone. At first, it was just verbal harassment. He called Dorothy Jane Scott and said he was going to brutally kill her and cut her flesh off one by one. Dorothy Jane Scott was terrified and called the police, but because there were so few clues and because of her simple life, the police thought it was a prank and didn't care too much.
Although the police advised her not to care, the truth is that the phone calls threatening Dorothy Jane Scott came almost every day, speaking the same paragraph, to kill her brutally and in pieces. A month later, the man called, saying he was sending her a surprise and wanted her to go out and see her car. When Dorothy Jane Scott went out to see her car, she saw a large handful of wilted flowers. She was so frightened and panicked that she rushed to call the police again. This time the police began to take the case seriously and sent more patrols to the area where she lived.
In the following days, the man called her and told her not only what she was wearing that day, but even what time and time she appeared there. In other words, this man was always around her. She had told her friend that she should know the man's identity, but had not revealed her guessed name to her friend or to the police.
On May 28, 1980, after a meeting with two colleagues, Conrad Bostron and Pam Head, Dorothy Jane Scott felt unwell. So the other two accompanied her to a nearby hospital. When the doctor finished, he found that Conrad Bastron was bitten by a poisonous spider and needed to stay in the hospital for several hours for observation. Dorothy Jane Scott and Pam Hyde stayed at the hospital with her until the end of the observation.
When Conrad Bastron's body recovered a little and was ready to be discharged, Dorothy Jane Scott asked the two to walk out of the hospital slowly, she went to the parking lot first and drove the car to the front door to pick up the two. Strangely enough, when Conrad Bastron and Pam Hyde came out of the hospital gates, they saw Dorothy Jane Scott's car, and quickly rushed towards them. They jumped back in fear, dodging the car, only to see the car did not look back in the other direction quickly away. Due to the speed of the car, and the two people were too frightened, did not see the person inside the car, whether it is Dorothy Jane Scott.
The two continued to contact Dorothy Jane Scott, but there was no response. They even called Dorothy Jane Scott's parents and friends and relatives, they could call all over, but there was no sign of her whereabouts. A few hours later, they and Dorothy Jane Scott's parents reported the incident to the police.
The next day, her car was found on the street in the small town of Santa Ana, but was set on fire. Strangely, the mysterious phone call did not stop with Dorothy Jean Scott's disappearance, and her mother received a phone call a few weeks later. She heard a man's voice asking her if she was Dorothy Jane Scott's mother. Her mother answered yes, and the man immediately responded that he had Dorothy Jean Scott, and then hung up the phone.
Her mother receives this mysterious call once a week, speaking almost always the same words, the purpose of which is unknown. The police also tried to trace the source of the call by all means, but always to no avail. Her father could not stand the progress of the police and informed all the media about the strange nature of the case, hoping that through the media, the killer behind the case could be found. However, this did not help the development of the case, but instead the mysterious caller stopped.
After four years in this way, on August 6, 1984, a worker found the body of a dog in a construction site in Santa Ana. When he removed the dog's body, he found a human body underneath, and he was so frightened that he called the police. The coroner confirmed after the autopsy that the body was Dorothy Jane Scott, but they could not find the cause of her death after the autopsy. This makes them very puzzled, is also the first time to encounter such a bizarre situation.
More puzzling is that her watch is still on her hand, the time stopped in the middle of the night on May 29, which is the last time her two colleagues saw her an hour later. Whether or not this was the time of her death is not known. A few days after her body was found, her father received a mysterious phone call asking if Dorothy Jean Scott was home, then hung up. And that call, too, was the last mysterious call to her parents.
Although the police locked up several suspects, they released them for lack of evidence. The police even took her clients and investigated them one by one, but also to no avail. To this day, her murderer, whether the existence of the world, is still a mystery.

Pizza Gate
A lot of arguing going on in this episode, let's get to it...
Before the show starts, we see after they leave the party last episode. Tre, Danielle and Jen A are with their husbands driving home from the party. Danielle says "The one person you don't want to have as an enemy, ME!! The "Me" sounded like a combination of a roaring lion and Al Pacino. It was something.
The next morning, we have breakfast at the Jen A with her guests. At the same time, we see Rachel and her guests eating breakfast together with her side. Of course, both sides are talking about the other side while having breakfast. Shocker! Later on, both groups will get together for lunch at Rachel's.
At Rachel's house one of the subjects is Danielle. They are very 'concerned' about why Danielle doesn't talk to her brother. Let me make this clear. The Marge doesn't speak to her kids and Jackie doesn't speak to a sister. Why do these busybodies care why she doesn't speak to her brother? Here's an idea, instead of focusing on Danielle, try fixing your own family, including you, Melissa. Damn! Now Melissa whines about her mom not being invited. The Marge asks her if she is happy Louie invited her mother to the wedding. Melissa wonders if it is a genuine invite, ffsakes get over yourself. Yes, Melissa. He meditated on it and deep down in his heart and soul he wants your mother there so bad. Is that good enough for you? Melissa's mother tweeted or liked not so nice things about Teresa years ago, so stop pretending there is a love fest here. It is not. Teresa forgave but why would she want someone who slammed her on social media at her wedding?
Now let's get to Joey and pizza gate. Joey tells them Louie is nice but sometimes a dick. Producers ask if something happened between them. Joey tells them that yes something happened. There are two sides which we will get to. Back at Jen's Teresa comes clean with her friends and tells them that Louie lost 250k investing in a pizzeria for Joey called Nonno's that Joey wanted to do with Teresa. Joey put down zero percent. Louie's lawyer said to give Joey 5% and he flipped out, because it was his idea to call it Nonno's. Idea? Pay up or deal is done! Joey also said Teresa changed the name to Skinny Pizza. I doubt she changed the name, sounds fishy to me. Joey is annoyed. Louie is not. Joey lost no money. Louie lost 250k. Why is Joey mad about this? He lost nothing. Furthermore, a few seasons back, Joey opened a pizzeria, what happened to that restaurant? It just vanished? Of course, The Marge has to butt in to say this is so hurtful to Joey.
Rachel's Lunch it starts off okay. Oh, Adult Jennifer arrives, she has a husband named Jeff. Word on the street is people in her town don't like her, which makes her a perfect fit for being The Marge's friend of the show.
Okay party is on. The Marge, Jackie, Dolores, Adult Jennifer and Melissa's are still talking about the mother not being invited. All of them. I can't. Stop with this storyline. She was invited, so what's the problem now?Teresa tells Joey all he had to do was come to her and ask her to invite his MIL and she would have, instead he and Melissa are whining to strangers (cast members) about this.
Now we have The Marge pull aside Danielle and scold her for spreading gossip about The Marge having an arsenal of information about the women. First of all, Danielle only discussed it with Rachel, but Rachel who was talking about it as well, being the snake that Rachel is, ran back and told The Marge what BOTH Danielle and Rachel discussed. Rachel just conveniently left out the part that she participated in the discussion. Also, The Marge is the town's gossip that tells everyone's secrets. Hey, she is such a gossip she probably worked her way up to the Garden's State gossip by now. So why is she so mad? She knows she spreads secrets (Jen A and Bill) and tries to destroy relationships (Louie and Teresa). Rachel Joins The Marge and Danielle. Rachel twisted it to make it seem like it was Danielle gossiping about The Marge. Rachel is a pot stirrer and Danielle is done with her. I knew these two wouldn't be friends. Oh, the irony -- The Marge tells Danielle to stop gossiping all over the place. This is projection from The Marge onto Danielle.
Now we have Louie trying to make peace between Teresa, Melissa and Joey. Give it up Louie, they even brought in therapists to repair their family. It's not going to happen. First Louie grabs Melissa to talk. He brings up her mother's invite and how wonderful Melissa's mother has been to him and his boys.
Meanwhile close by at the party, Jackie's talking about Teresa's non invite with Jen A and Dolores. Teresa's fed up by now, she wants to know why everyone is talking about this. So do I. Jackie tells her Melissa is her best friend and is very upset about this. Gag!! Tre tells her if she is so upset let her call her sisters and discuss HER guest list. Get her Tre! I can't help it, these women are being so catty towards Teresa. It's a guest list, get over it. And Melissa's mother is no saint. She said horrible things online about Teresa. Danielle chimes in to say stop gossiping about my brother. She said I blocked him on Instagram, and he lost his mind and that was it. The ladies say maybe it is the SIL (which it probably is) but mind your own business. Why do they care so much? I don't care why. Danielle tells them she is done and leaves the party. The Marge calls her a drama queen. No, she just doesn't like gossipy women talking about a sensitive subject. Danielle tells us in her confessional she is heartbroken about her brother and these women are making it worse. Danelle, you shouldn't have told them!!
Back to Louie, while he is professing his love for Melissa and her family, Teresa tries to join in on the conversation. Louie tells her to respect their space and she is not making any sense what she is saying. All she said is that she wanted to know what is going on with the wedding invite, and everyone is talking about it. She also said there's history with the family. Yeah, that bothered me. He is not a therapist, and he has no right to scold Teresa and kick her out of the conversation. This is her side of the family's problem. He can't control how it all goes down. If Teresa wanted to be there and say her peace, she should be allowed to. Teresa walks away. Joey joins and Louie welcomes him. This is so weird. Okay Louie is forgiven for now ... He does say he feels bad about the invite and all the hurt between Tre, Melis and Joey, but Teresa is hurt as well, and he is marrying her in 4 weeks and wants peace. Maybe his intent is good but stop with your 'therapy' speeches with Teresa on camera.
Back at the gossip table with the women. Teresa tells them her brother Joey needs therapy. Jackie tells her that is not nice. What? Therapy is not nice? Teresa goes off on her and tells her to get out of her fucking face. I would too. Jackie needs to go. I am sick of her and her nasty digs. She brings nothing but negativity and starts in with people. Teresa tells her she is getting involved with family and needs to keep out of it.
Now back to Louie and Joey, Melissa walked away to let them talk. Louie tells Joey he wears Nonno's pajamas to make his nieces feel safe. Joey's face is priceless, like wtf did he just say? It is kind of weird, but whatever. Now Teresa joins in, and they have a therapy session about the wedding. Enough! Invite, don't invite, attend, don't attend. Melissa joins in and more wedding talk. Ugh!! It gets heated and Teresa walks away. She tells Louie to fix it, she is done. So is America. Get another storyline. This time Melissa and Joey leave the party. The Marge walks up and Teresa tells her to make Melissa understand that last year.... suddenly all talk stops! Louie gets up and tells Teresa he is going to leave because he can't take it anymore. I feel you. But he scolds her in front of the group, telling her she doesn't listen. Should she sit there and let him do all the talking? He is on the fence again with me. Too controlling, but she doesn't see it, so they might be a good fit. She is mellow now. I just feel he should say these things off camera. He continues to lecture Teresa while Joey comes back and starts screaming, Louie calms him down and Joey leaves. Either Louie is the Teresa and Joey makeup whisperer, or he's controlling. I can't figure him out.
So there you have it. Pizza Gate started the demise of Louie and Joey's relationship. Teresa's father and sister never talked over $200 give or take. So I think the family is following in their footsteps.

Happy to provide pics of anything you might be interested in.. Most of this stuff I would like to move ASAP. If you would like to buy see my GameSale post!
If you are local to the Sacramento area I might be willing to do a local meetup. Cash/Paypal also acceptable on either side to help even out a trade.
Thanks for looking! Happy trading!
​
[HAVE]

PLAYSTATION
Playstation	Legacy of Kain Collectors Edition Triple Pack	SEALED Hard to value.. I don't see this very often at all.. There is one other one on eBay right now for $369 in similar condition.. This one does have some minor wear to the corners/seal as seen in the pics.. I would really like a big item from my list for this..
Playstation	DarkStalkers 3	CIB - Minor Staining
Playstation	GranStream Saga	CIB
Playstation 2	Final Fantasy X Brady Games Strategy Guide	Very worn. Has tear in front cover. No poster.
Playstation 2	Final Fantasy X -2 Brady Games Strategy Guide	Moderately worn. Has smaller tear in back cover. Includes Poster.
Playstation 2	Dual Shock 2	Silver - Works - Normal Wear
Playstation 2	Dual Shock 2	Translucent Blue - Works - Normal Wear
Playstation 2	Guitar Hero II	BL - CIB
Playstation 2	Guitar Hero Guitar Hero Encore Rocks the 80's	BL - CIB
Playstation 2	Myst III Exile	BL - CIB
Playstation 2	RPG Maker 3	BL - CIB
Playstation 2	24 The Game	BL - CIB
Playstation 2	Wheel of Fortune	BL - CIB
Playstation 3	Ace Combat Assault Horizon	BL - CIB
Playstation 3	BlazBlue Continuum Shift Extend	Limited Edition Big Box - CIB - Includes Soundtrack, Art Book, and Calendar. Box has heavy wear. Everything else is pretty minty. Game case has some minor shelf wear.
Playstation 3	Dark Souls II	BL - CIB
Playstation 3	Diablo III	BL - CIB
Playstation 3	Yakuza Dead Souls	BL - CIB
Playstation 4	500 Million Dual Shock 4 Controller	Loose - Has crack in center but otherwise pretty minty.
Playstation 4	7 Days to Die	BL - CIB
Playstation 4	Call Of Duty Infinite Warfare	BL - CIB
Playstation 4	Dead Cells [Action Game of the Year]	BL - CIB
Playstation 4	Dragon Quest XI: Echoes of an Elusive Age	BL - CIB
Playstation 4	Evolve	BL - CIB
Playstation 4	Final Fantasy XV Deluxe Steelbook Edition book w/Slipcover	BL - CIB
Playstation 4	Kingdom Hearts HD 2.8	BL - CIB - Spine damage/tear
Playstation 4	Middle Earth Shadow of War	BL - CIB
Playstation 4	Nascar Heat 3	BL - CIB
Playstation 4	Overwatch Origins	BL - CIB
Playstation 4	Resident Evil Village Deluxe Edition	BL - CIB
Playstation 5	Babylon's Fall	Sealed
Playstation 5	Death Stranding	Sealed
PSP	PSP 1001 - Loose. PSP ONLY	Body and screen are pretty scratched up, includes a rubber grip cover and I can include a white replacement shell... Charge port can be touchy sometimes so it also includes a replacement port. No charger. PENDING
PSP	Tekken 6	BL - CIB
PSP	PSP 3000 Box and tray only - No PSP included	Box has moderate to heavy wear with some creasing.
PSVITA	Ninja Gaiden Sigma 2 Plus	Loose
PSVITA	Wipeout 2048	Loose

​

XBOX
Xbox	Blowout	BL - CIB
Xbox	Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban	BL - CIB
Xbox	Indiana Jones and The Emperors Tomb	BL - CIB
Xbox	Pac Man World 2	PH - CIB
Xbox	Return To Castle Wolfenstein Tides of War	PH - CIB
Xbox 360	4GB - 360 Slim Console	Includes OEM power supply and controller. I can probably include an HDMI cable if needed.
Xbox 360	250GB - 360 Slim Console	Includes OEM power supply, controller and Kinect. I can probably include an HDMI cable if needed.
Xbox 360	Dead Space 3	PH - CIB
Xbox 360	Dragonball Z Ultimate Tenkaichi	BL - CIB
Xbox 360	Fable 2 Limited Edition	BL - CIB* (No special features disc)
Xbox 360	Fable 3	BL - CIB
Xbox 360	Forza 4	BL - CIB
Xbox 360	Grand Theft Auto 5	BL - Boxed w/map
Xbox 360	Halo 3 Limited Edition Steel book w/sleeve (minor damage)	BL - CIB - Includes manual, but no book..
Xbox 360	Hitman HD Trilogy - Premium Edition w/ slipcoveartbook	BL - CIB - Moderate wear
Xbox 360	Mortal Kombat	BL - Boxed (No Manual)
Xbox 360	NBA Live 2010	BL - CIB
Xbox 360	NBA 2K18	BL - CIB
Xbox 360	Portal 2	BL - Boxed (No Manual)
Xbox 360	Test Drive Unlimited	BL - CIB
Xbox One	Battlefield 4 Steelbook Edition	CIB
Xbox One	Dark Souls 3	CIB
Xbox One	Madden 22	CIB
Xbox One	Prototype BioHazard Bundle	CIB
Xbox One	Rare Replay	CIB
Xbox One	Skylanders Trap Team	CIB
Xbox One	UFC 3	CIB
Xbox One	Watch Dogs 2	CIB
Xbox One	Wolfenstein The New Order	CIB

​

NINTENDO
NES	Vintage Nintendo of America Letter	w/ Official Nintendo Envelope, Cover Letter, Nintendo Power order form, service center list, Game Pak Directory, Replacement parts list, Nintendo history. Great little piece. Definitely shows some wear and a few markings but the order forms are blank. Not sure how to value this
NES	Bart vs The Space Mutants	Manual Only
NES	Gradius	Manual Only
NES	Mega Man 1	Manual Only
NES	Mission Impossible	Manual Only
NES	NES Advantage controller	Manual Only
NES	Zodas Revenge	Manual Only
NES	Kung Fu	Loose
NES	Ninja Gaiden II	Loose
NES	Skate or Die	Loose - Worn/snagged top label
NES	Wizards and Warriors III	Loose - Worn/torn top label
NES	GAME GENIE	Loose
SNES	DOOM	CIB** - Might be willing to trade box/contents separately.
SNES	Rockos Modern Life	CIB - Box is worn, includes insert, manual and warning slip.. both have some wear, Cart is in great shape! Might be willing to trade box/contents separately.
SNES	Yoshi's Safari	CIB** - Might be willing to trade box/contents separately.
SNES	Buster Busts Loose	Manual Only
SNES	Hey Punk! Are You Tuff E Nuff?	Manual Only
SNES	Lawnmower Man	Manual Only
SNES	Mega Man X	Manual Only
SNES	World Heroes	Manual Only
SNES	GAME GENIE	Loose
N64	Standard N64 Console	Includes OEM expansion pack.
Wii	Red Steel	BL - Boxed (No Manual)
Wii	Trauma Center Second Opinion	BL - CIB
Wii U	The Legend of Zelda Windwaker HD Edition Wii U	Complete in box** - Super Hard trade - Probably the item I'm least likely to trade right now.
Wii U	The Legend of Zelda Twilight Princess HD	SEALED - I am considering having this one graded.
Wii U	Super Mario 3D World	NS - CIB
Switch	Red and Blue V2 Switch Console	Includes everything but the box. Decent condition with a few blemishes. Everything works. PENDING
Switch	Pokemon Scarlet and Violet Edition OLED Switch	NEW
Switch	BloodRayne Fresh Bites	Sealed - w/card
Switch	Fire Emblem Three Houses	CIB
Switch	Great Ace Attorney Chronicles	CIB
Gameboy	Ren and Stimpy Veediots	Manual Only
NDS	Red Super Mario Bros 25th Anniversary Edition DSi XL	Loose - With charger. Does have some minor wear and teascuffs on corners PENDING
NDS	Mario Party DS	Sealed - (Has some knicks/tear in seal.)
NDS	Pokémon Heartgold	CIB - NFR case, no big box or Pokewalker - Only considering trading this so I can upgrade.. Would also trade FOR the big box..
NDS	Spiderman Shattered Dimensions	Loose
NDS	Spyro The Eternal Night	Loose
3DS	Animal Crossing New Leaf	CIB
3DS	Bravely Second End Layer	CIB - Minor damage to case/art
3DS	Legend of Legacy	Sealed
3DS	Super Smash Bros. 3DS	Loose

​

SEGA
Saturn	Model 2 Console	Loose - Includes power cord + OEM controller
Saturn	Street Fighter Alpha 2	CIB
Dreamcast	Crazy Taxi	Loose

​
[WANT]
SOME specific items I'm after:

• Attack On Titan 2 or Final Battle PS4
• Baten Kaitos - Eternal Wings and the Lost Ocean
• Castlevania Curse of Darkness - PS2
• Castlevania Lament of Innocence - PS2
• Castlevania Dracula X
• Conkers Bad Fur Day
• Chocobos Dungeon
• Clock Tower (all)
• Drakengard 2
• Earthbound
• Evil Dead Games (PS1-PS2)
• Geist - Gamecube
• Grandia Xtreme
• The Legend of Zelda Four Swords - Gamecube
• Majoras Mask N64
• Mario Party 6 - Complete only
• Mario Party 7 - Manual only
• Marvel vs Capcom 1 and 2 PS1/PS2 or Dreamcast
• Misadventures of Tron Bonne
• Mega Man 64 - Cart or CIB
• Paper Mario TTYD - Complete and NON Players Choice/Best Seller
• Parasite Eve II - Manual only
• Pokemon Crystal, Emerald, Ruby, and Silver
• Pokemon White, Black, HGSS (Big Box), Alpha Sapphire, Moon, Y, Ultra Sun/Moon
• Resident Evil - Saturn
• Resident Evil - PS1 Long Box
• Resident Evil Code Veronica - Gamecube
• Resident Evil Dead Aim (Also looking for other light Gun games like Point Blank, Time Crisis, House of the Dead..)
• Resident Evil Survivor
• Resident Evil Darkside Chronicles - Highly Prefer the Gun Bundle Version.
• Saga Frontier 2 PS1, Unlimited Saga PS2
• Shadow Hearts - PS2
• Shadow Hearts From the New World - Disc only
• Silent Hill Origins and Shattered Memories - PS2
• Suikoden, Suikoden II and Suikoden Tactics
• Tekken Long Box
• Twisted Metal Long Box
• Valkyrie Profile PS1
• Wario Ware/World - Gamecube
• Xenosaga Episode III - PS2 - Complete only. Lenticular preferred.

[General Wants]

• I'd like to bulk up my Gamecube and Sega collections; Dreamcast, CD/Saturn and Genesis.. I don't really need any hardware at the moment. But a CDX or Nomad would be cool though!
• PlayStation 5 games. Official Sony dual controller charger - CIB or New
• PS1 - PS4 Heavies
• PS Vita Games and maybe certain Vitas.
• PSP Games
• PSVR Games
• PS1 Long Box games
• PSX Console
• Special Edition Sony/PlayStation stuff.
• Switch games, SE Pro controllers
• Gameboys
• DS/3DS games

** Your lists/offers. I am not interested in loose discs or any sort of Greatest Hits, Platinum Hits, Players Choice, etc. Black Label/first print only. Most Carts are ok loose with the exception of games that came in plastic cases such as DS/Vita. If it had a cardboard box I can do without.

Who’d ever be afraid of postcards?
After all, it’s nothing but paper, right?
That’s how I’d have reacted if you’d asked me that question about a month or two ago.
It all started back in April. I’d just returned from the grocery store and checked my mail. I do it less than frequently. The only thing that ever finds its way there are fliers, random advertisement or the occasional bill.
That day though, as I stood in front of the big outdoor mailboxes of my apartment building, there was something else. Amongst a handful of fliers that had accumulated over the past week and a half, I also found a postcard.
After I’d crumbled up the annoying advertisements, I checked the postcard. Its front showed a pair of cute kittens and a ball of yarn.
When I turned it around, wondering who it was from, I found a postal stamp, my address written in fine letters, but no message. At least I thought so until I saw a single smiley face drawn where one would usually find a message.
I stared at the card for a bit, more amused than confused, wondering who’d sent it.
Without thinking much, I pocketed it and went inside. After I’d put away my groceries, I added it to a small bulletin board in my hallway where I’d put up all the postcards I’d received from friends and family over the years.
I’d forgotten it soon enough, if not for another one that arrived a week later.
This time the motif was a sprawling forest with the sun rising in the distance. When I turned it around, it was the same thing. A stamp, my name and address, and another silly little smiley face.
“What the hell?” I brought out before I shrugged. Back inside, I pinned it to the bulletin board and went on with my day.
A few days later, another two postcards arrived. One showed a couple of balloons flying through the air, the other what I assumed to be an important historical building. Once again, neither of them contained a message. Instead, both of them showed the same lonely smiley face.
By now, I couldn’t help but frown. This was getting creepy.
This time I didn’t bother to put the cards up on the board. In the trash they went, without a moment’s hesitation.
And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder what was up with this. Why’d anyone sent me those cards? Why not add a message instead of that stupid smiley face? Was this supposed to be a joke?
I didn’t find any answers to my questions, but the next time I checked my mailbox, I found another batch of postcards inside.
They depicted random motifs, were all addressed to me, and each one sprouted another smiley face.
This time, I wasn’t confused or puzzled. This time I was getting angry. Who the hell was sending them? In my anger, I tore them to pieces right then and there and grumbled up the remains.
Then I stopped and looked around to see if the perpetrator was nearby. Maybe this was all someone’s elaborate joke to see how a random person would react to something like this?
Then I shook my head. It wouldn’t do me any good to grow paranoid about a couple of silly postcards. And they all had a postal stamp, so they’d arrived via mail, anyway.
And yet, the next day, I found myself in front of the mailboxes again, checking it even though I told myself to not let it go to my head. But wouldn’t you know it, I found another one. The same was true for the next day and the day after. Each day, a new, cute little postcard arrived, address to me and sprouting another random smiley face.
Who the hell was doing this? Those cards, the shipping, it all cost money, didn’t it?
That’s when I wondered who it could be. I didn’t exactly have friends and what few old ones I had I hadn’t talked to in years. The next thing that came to mind were past relationships, but I hadn’t dated anyone in years. The only nasty break-up I could think of was with Lin, and that had been almost a decade ago. No, as much as I racked my brain, no one came to mind.
I went online, asked about it on Reddit and other similar sites, but most of the answers I got were silly jokes. What few serious replies I got suggested it might be some sort of marketing campaign, a social experiment or someone tricking random people to see how they’d react.
Great, that didn’t help me one bit. So much for the information age.
Each day, I thought about the damned cards more and more and each day new cards arrived.
Eventually, on my way to the grocery store, I ran into the mailman who’d just started on his delivery on our block.
“Hello, excuse me, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
The man turned to me and gave me a puzzled look before he nodded.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Well, for the past weeks, I’ve been getting those weird postcards in the mail. Do you by any chance know something about it? Maybe other people receive them too and I was wondering if there’s some sort of, you know, promotion or something.”
For a moment, he stared at me again.
“Haven’t heard of anything like it.”
“Yeah, but those damned cards keep arriving. By now it’s two or three a day and I was wondering,” my voice trailed off.
“They are like, landscapes, animals, greeting cards, anything basically.”
“All right,” he brought out in a strangely suspicious voice. “Do you live here?”
“Ah, down the road, in number sixty-eight.”
“Tell you what, buddy, I’ve no clue if I delivered any postcards, there’s a ton of mail and even more mailboxes. I’ll keep my eyes open though.”
“Thanks.”
From the way he held my gaze, I knew he wasn’t doing anything like keeping his eyes open. No, I could tell he was uncomfortable about the entire thing and just wanted to get over with. I sighed, nodded, and went on my way.
The next morning, while I put on some coffee, the same curiosity overcame me again. I put on my shoes and made my way outside. Wouldn’t you know it, another pair of postcards had found its way into my mailbox.
In an onset of fury, I tore them apart, cursing to myself, and threw their remains down in front of the mailboxes.
Once done, I found one of my neighbors, an old woman walking her dog, staring at me, a worried expression on her face.
“Ah, sorry,” I mumbled, more to myself than to her, before I hurried back inside.
Great, fucking great. If this continued, I’d be known as the local crazy guy in no time. But really, what the hell was up with those cards?
I had talked to the mailman, of course, but by that point he hadn’t been at my building yet. And he probably didn’t give a shit about a random guy pestering him about postcards. No, if anything, I had to talk to him right here, while he was delivering the damned things.
Yesterday I’d met him at about one in the afternoon. So he’d probably be back shortly after noon.
I tried my best to distract myself with my work, but I soon couldn’t concentrate on it anymore. Instead, I found myself sitting at the kitchen window, watching the street and mailboxes outside, waiting for his arrival.
I sat there for more than an hour, busying myself on my phone, when I noticed the bright-yellow delivery car. In an instant, I jumped up, put on my shoes, and dashed outside.
When I’d made it, he was rummaging through the back of his car, sorting through letters and parcels. Then he made his way to my building with a stack of them in his hands. The moment he noticed standing by the mailboxes, he gave me an awkward smile.
Shit, I told myself, now I’m the guy who’s stalking the mailman.
He gave me a friendly nod, trying his best to ignore me, but every so often his eyes wandered back to me. The way I watched him clearly unsettled him. Shit, I had to do something about this situation.
“Sorry about that,” I brought out, stepping up to him.
He gave me a half-questioning, half-scared look.
“You probably think I’m a nutcase but,” I broke up and couldn’t help but laugh. “All right, shit, now you definitely think I’m a nutcase.”
He joined my laughter, but his had an awkward, hollow sound to it.
“So about the postcards,” I started, but he raised his hand to cut me off.
He went through the stack of letters right in front of me, showing me one after another and then the three parcels.
“Nope, no postcards, same as yesterday,” he eventually said.
“Yesterday?”
“Yeah, when you asked me.”
“Motherfucker,” I brought out.
He gave me another curious glance as he pushed letter after letter into their corresponding mailboxes.
“Sorry, not you. It’s just, I found another batch this morning, so I thought maybe today there were more of them.”
“Well, as you can see,” he said, shrugging.
“Yeah, all good. I’m just trying to figure out who’s sending the damned things,” I said, giving him a little smile.
He gave me another curt nod before he hurried back to his car.
All right, if those things weren’t delivered by the postal service...
And so the biggest question on my mind changed from why to who and especially when.
For a moment, the strangest feeling came over me as I watched the mailman at his car and opened my mailbox again. Maybe he was fucking with me and hadn’t shown them. But when I stared into my mailbox, it was empty.
Back inside, I hatched a plan. They were there every morning, and the mailman didn’t deliver them, so someone else had to be behind it. I mean, they couldn’t just appear there out of thin air. So if I just waited by the kitchen window and watched the damned mailboxes, I should catch the perpetrator.
I found myself an interesting podcast, sat down by the window, and began my watch.
I sat there all afternoon, but all I saw were neighbors checking their mail. None of them touched my mailbox at all. When the sun set, I prepared myself a can of coffee.
When night fell, I was about to turn on the light, but then remembered what I was doing. Whoever was behind this would see me in the window and would just sit tonight out. Hell, maybe they’d already seen me and decided to leave things alone for today.
Shit.
Still, I had told myself I’d catch the one responsible for this and that I’d watch the damned mailboxes.
And yet, slowly, ever so slowly, hour after hour passed. Soon enough it was midnight, then one in the morning. At two, I grew tired and downed yet another cup of coffee. At half-past three, I almost nodded off.
I slapped myself across the face, downed another cup of strong coffee, and turned the podcast a few notches louder until it sounded like someone was screaming into my ear.
Eventually, morning came, and the sun dawned. I sat there, tired, exhausted, but most of all, discouraged. No one had shown up, no one at all.
For a moment, I couldn’t help but laugh. What the hell was I doing? Why was I sitting here all night just because of a bunch of stupid postcards?
And yet, I kept sitting there, watching the mailboxes for another hour and then another. Somehow, I couldn’t stop. It felt like the moment I’d step away from the window, someone would rush to the mailbox, put the cards in and dash away.
Then I started to think. What if they were waiting for exactly that? What if someone had seen me by the window and was waiting for me to give up, to falter?
My apartment was on the ground floor. I’d be out at the mailboxes within moments. If I was fast enough, maybe I could catch them red-handed.
For a moment I scanned the area nearby, the street and the sidewalk, the bushes and trees, but I saw no one.
Still, just to be sure, just so I wouldn’t miss a thing, I put my phone up near the window where it couldn’t easily be seen. Then I made sure it was pointed at the mailboxes and started a recording.
Once I was sure everything worked, I stepped away from the window. I put on my shoes, grabbed my keys and hurried outside to the mailbox.
I was all alone. My eyes darted around for movement, trying to see if anyone was nearby or hurrying away. All was as quiet as it could be. No one was nearby.
Then I walked up to my mailbox.
My fingers were sweaty as I put in the key and my hand was shaking slightly as I turned it.
It had to be empty, I told myself, it had to be.
But the moment the small mailbox opened up, I could already see them, three postcards. Cute kittens and puppies stared at me from each one. When I turned them around, I saw the postal stamp, saw my address and name and of course the damned smiley faces.
As they stared at me, I felt almost as if they were laughing at me, mocking me. Had someone actually made it to the mailbox in the few moments it took me to get here?
In an instant, another surge of rage came over me and I shredded the damned things. Then I made my way back inside and hurried to the kitchen.
The phone was still pointing at the mailboxes, still recording.
I was filled with the strangest sense of glee, of curiosity as I replayed the recording.
I brought the phone as close to my face as I could, gazing at it. The recording began, showing me the lonely mailboxes.
“Now, where are you, asshole?” I wondered as I continued watching.
Second after second passed with no one showing up, with nothing moving.
Then I saw something and at first I thought I’d caught the damned asshole playing tricks on me before I realized it was me walking up to my mailbox. I watched as I looked around, as I took out the key and opened it and eventually tore up the postcards.
In frustration, I dropped my phone onto the kitchen table and laughed.
How the hell had someone put those damned cards inside? I had seen no one!
Then I wondered if someone had dropped them in before I’d started watching the window. There had been a few minutes after my talk with the mailman. Hell, what if I had actually nodded off and hadn’t noticed it?
What if the damned mailman was behind it? Maybe that asshole pretended not to know anything and the moment I’d left him, he ran back to my mailbox and put the damned cards in? What if...
All right, stop. This is getting ridiculous. You’re sounding like a crazy person. Hell, you’ve acted like a crazy person. This entire ‘let’s watch the mailboxes all night long’ thing was crazy enough.
I rubbed my temples and shook my head. Shit, I was exhausted and all that for nothing.
The moment I fell into my bed I was deep asleep.
After that day, I made it a conscious effort to ignore whatever was going on here. Who knows, maybe that person did it all to get a reaction out of me. Maybe they were watching me, and maybe they’d seen me tearing up postcards and talking to the mailman. Maybe if I stopped caring they’d tire of their antics?
Either way, I told myself I’d better things to do than to worry about freaking postcards.
Still, whenever I was in the kitchen, I found myself at the window, staring down at the mailbox for a little while before I moved on.
I checked my mail occasionally. When I went to the grocery store or when I returned from an evening walk. Every single time, I found postcards inside and every single time there were more of them. They had to arrive in droves by now. At one point, I pulled out over three dozen of them.
It was the strangest thing, dumbfounding even, but I forced myself not to show a reaction. I wouldn’t give whoever was doing this any sort of satisfaction. No, I took out the postcards, closed my mailbox and went inside where I discarded them.
It was about a week later that my doorbell rang in the late afternoon. When I answered it, one of my neighbors was outside.
“I guess those are for you, aren’t they?” he brought out in a slightly annoyed tone when I opened the door.
I stared at him and then at the stack of postcards in his hand. My eyes grew wide, and I almost cringed back.
“Wait, what? No, those aren’t mine, they are,” I broke up, shaking my head.
“Look, no, those aren’t mine, they are-“
“But that’s your name on them, isn’t it? Right here, on every single one of them,” the man cut me off, his voice now more annoyed.
“Yes, I know, but-“
“Then how about you take them off me?”
“I... fuck, all right!”
With that, I ripped the stack of postcards from his hands.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit friendlier,” he brought out, staring at me.
At first I was about to retort something. To tell him to go fuck himself. But then I told myself to calm down. The guy probably brought them here because he thought the mailman had messed up. He was just trying to be a good neighbor in his own way.
“All right, I’m sorry,” I brought out. “Look, there’s something odd about those postcards.”
The guy’s face didn’t change. Instead, he kept staring at me.
“Someone’s been dumping them into my mailbox for weeks. Hell, probably for a month by now. Every day I find those stupid cards inside. Look, there’s not even a message on them! It’s all just those stupid smiley faces. I don’t know why they put them in your mailbox, but maybe they want to fuck with other people as well.”
“Who are... they?” the man asked me in a half-concerned, half-confused voice once my rant was over.
“Shit, I don’t know! The ones who are doing this, who are fucking with me, fucking with you!”
By now the man had grown apprehensive and taken a few steps away from me.
“Look, I’m not looking for any trouble,” he said, raising his hands in a defensive posture.
At that moment, I got an idea.
“Hold on, let’s go back to the mailboxes.”
“Why’d I-?” the guy started, but after a few moments of standing there confused and lost, he followed me.
After a few moments we were back outside, me standing in front of the mailboxes and him keeping a safe distance from who he thought to be a madman. After a quick turn of the key, I opened my mailbox. A flood of postcards descended upon me. The entire mailbox had been filled to the brim. The last ones had been stuffed inside with such force they’d crumbled.
“What the hell?” the man behind me brought out.
“That’s what I thought,” I reasoned. “They probably dumped the rest into another mailbox, into yours.”
“Look, if this is your idea of a joke, then-“
“What the hell kind of joke would that be? Look, there’s got to be dozens in here, maybe hundreds. Why’d I buy all those postcards just to play a joke on you?”
“Why’d anyone?”
This time, I couldn’t answer.
For a few more moments he stood there before he shook his head and left me alone with all my postcards. As I stared at the filled up mailbox, at the postcards who’d rained down on my feet, I couldn’t help but laugh.
This was insane, this was just utterly insane.
Over the course of the next days, things didn’t get better. More and more neighbors showed up at my door. The nice old lady from floor number three, a student from floor number six, and a young mother from down the hallway. Every single one of them would ring my doorbell to hand me a stack of postcards addressed to me that had accidentally been delivered to them.
As quietly and as normal as I could, I explained to them that someone was playing a trick on me. I told them to just ignore any cards addressed to me or throw them away.
They all nodded, but I could see the puzzlement on their faces, the confusion and the apprehension.
I could tell they were all wondering if this was my doing, and I was sure they considered me the local crazy guy by now.
It wasn’t long before even the mailman rang my doorbell. He told me there was a problem, and he had to speak to me for a moment.
When he saw who I was, he frowned.
“You know this is a problem, don’t you?” he asked, pointing at the mailboxes.
“What do you-?” I started but broke up.
Half of the mailboxes were stuffed with postcards.
I couldn’t help but laugh nervously, which prompted an angry glance from the mailman.
“That’s got to be hundreds... thousands,” I eventually brought out.
“Yeah, and I can’t deliver the mail, thanks to them. What are you going to do about it?”
“What am I... what?”
“Well, they are all addressed to you. This is clearly related to you!”
“But, I don’t, ugh,” I broke up in frustration.
By now, another neighbor had arrived, staring at her mailbox.
“Not again,” she brought out as she opened her mailbox and tore dozens upon dozens of crumbled up postcards from it.
As I watched, as I stared at all those stuffed mailboxes, I knew this wasn’t a prank anymore. No, something strange was going on here, something extremely strange.
I pulled out my phone and called the police. I made my report as vague as possible, telling them someone was stalking me and damaging the mailboxes at my apartment building.
When they arrived, I told them about the full situation. They listened intently, but I could see the look on their faces.
The longer I went on talking, the more angry they seemed to get.
I was quick to lead them to the mailboxes and pointed at the general chaos. Their anger dissipated almost instantly and was replaced by confusion.
“And, how long has this... whatever this is, been going on?” one of them asked while his colleague stepped up to the mailboxes.
“I guess, about a month and a half,” I started. “At first it was only a single postcard, but then more and more of them arrived, and now it’s come to this.”
The two police officers did the best to handle the entire situation professionally, but I could tell they were as perplexed as I was.
They asked me if I had any enemies, but I answered I couldn’t think of anyone. I told them I’d tried to figure out who was behind this for weeks, but I had no clue. I even told them of my nightly watch.
Eventually, one of them handed me his card with a phone number on it. They told me they’d take some postcards with them and look into it and they’d have someone to watch the nearby area.
With the police here and them taking action, I was sure this thing would finally end. Stuffing all those mailboxes had to take time, and I was sure they’d catch whoever was responsible.
The next morning, however, I found all the mailboxes in chaos again. Mine was so stuffed, I was surprised the door was still closed. Almost all other mailboxes were in a similar condition.
As I stood there, I took out my phone and called the number on the card the police officer had given me.
He answered, and I told him it had happened again. The man listened, but he couldn’t tell me much. They had someone watching the area, but so far, they hadn’t been able to see anyone suspicious.
The weird deliveries continued, and soon I wasn’t the only one in contact with the police. And yet, they never found out who was behind it, saw no one.
Even stranger, though, were the postcards themselves. None of them showed any label or a hint of a manufacturer. The same was true for the stamps.
And yet, nothing could be done and postcards kept arriving.
Before long people began pressuring the renting company. Something had to be done about this absurd situation. I knew some of them wanted me gone from the building while others wanted them to hire a mailbox security who’d watch it at all hours of the day.
The renting company, however, had a different plan. One day, they sent a maintenance team that took down the entirety of the mailboxes and simply moved them inside into the entry hallway of the building.
When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I did was to check on the mailboxes. Other people did the same thing.
I think we were all expecting them to be filled to the brim once more. Instead, everything was normal. There were no postcards with my name and silly smile faces on them anywhere.
I could see the relaxed faces of people around me, could hear them sigh in relief and talk about how it was finally over. And I couldn’t help but join in. They were still wary of me, still wondering how I’d spawned that madness, but I didn’t care.
Instead, still smiling, I went back to my apartment. I hadn’t even had coffee yet, I thought to myself.
With quick steps, I made my way towards my kitchen.
For the first time in weeks, hell, in more than a month, the world felt normal again. All I wanted right now was a nice, hot cup of coffee.
All those feelings vanished and changed the pure terror when I opened the kitchen door.
Right there, on my kitchen table and on the floor all around it, I found an uncountable number of postcards.
With a shaking hand, I picked up one of them. On it I found a postal stamp, my name and address and a stupid little smiley face.
And as I stared at it, as I stared at that silly, stupid little face, I couldn’t help but smile myself, smile and laugh about the absurdity of this entire mad situation.

Hi fellow Japanophiles! Heading for my 1st ever trip to Japan from 10 to 22 May, landing in KIX in Osaka and leaving from NRT in Tokyo. Would appreciate if anyone has any constructive comments in terms of feasibility, logistics, variety, interesting areas that I shldn't hv missed out, or places I had included that shldn't hv been bothered with at all.
Total pax: 3 (brother & I both in our early 20s, and middle-aged mother)

• Dates: 10 May (Wed) >> 22 May (Mon)
• Cities covered: Osaka, Himeji, Nara, Kyoto, Tokyo
• Areas of interest: Nothing specific, tho I'm kinda a foodie. To get a feel of Japan as a nation, as well as its history and culture, food, landscape, architecture, and possibly nightlife. Avoiding theme parks as my family isn't keen, so no USJ / Disneyland / Disneysea / etc.
• Budget: On the lower side but not afraid to splurge if I deem it worthy

Naturally, also interested in getting some shopping done and hopefully a few quintessentially Japanese souvenirs (any reccs? :P)

Days 1-5: Osaka-based (Osaka, Himeji, Nara; 2.5:1:1)

D1 (10 May, Wed): Arrival in Osaka (2pm at KIX) (from SG, so no big worries re jetlag)

• Drop off luggage at Airbnb (Namba). Check out the nearby areas until early evening check-in time
• Check into airbnb, settle in
• Hozen-ji / Hozen-ji Yokocho
• Nipponbashi District (dinner, shopping)

D2 (11 May, Thurs): Osaka Amazing Pass, 1 of 2

• Osaka Castle - Museum, gozabune moat boat ride, garden
• *Lunch* (ramen?)
• Osaka Museum of History
• Shitenno-ji / Keitakuen garden
• Tsutenkaku tower
• Shinsekai (dinner; izakaya)
• Ebisubashi shopping street / Dotonbori (shopping, street food)
• Tonbori river cruise
• America-mura (optional)

D3 (12 May, Fri): Osaka Amazing Pass, 2 of 2

• Namba Yasaka Shrine
• Kuromon Market (grab something to go for lunch)
• Lunch at Airbnb
• Osaka Museum of Housing and Living
• Tenjinbashi shopping street (street food)
• Umeda Sky Building
• Hep Five (dinner) / Hep Five Ferris Wheel

D4 (13 May, Sat): Himeji Day Trip; Kansai Area Pass, 1 of 3

• Himeji Castle / Koko-en
• *Lunch* (Anago?)
• Mt. Shosha / Engyoji
• Otemae Street (grab some jokamachi-dog)
• Head back to Osaka
• Dinner (Dotonbori area)

D5 (14 May, Sun): Nara Day Trip; Kansai Area pass, 2 of 3

• *Check out of Airbnb.
• Nakatanidou (watch the making of the famous handmade mochi and sample some)
• Kofuku-ji
• Kasuga Taisha Shrine (wisteria blooming)
• Nara Park (brief stroll/rest/lunch)
• Nandai-mon
• Todai-ji and its bell-tower
• Nara National Museum
• Dinner in the area
• *Retrieve suitcase. Bring along en route to Kyoto.
• *Check into Kyoto Airbnb.

Days 6-9: Kyoto

D6 (15 May, Mon): Kyoto (West + North); Kansai Area Pass, 3 of 3

• Arashiyama Bamboo Forest / Okochi Sanso Garden
• Tenryu-ji
• Iwatayama Monkey Park
• *Lunch*
• Ninna-ji / Ryoan-ji (shorter visits)
• Kinkaku-ji
• *Dinner (Kyoto Stn)

D7 (16 May, Tue): Kyoto (East); using top-up card, no passes

• Kiyomizu-dera
• Sannen-/Ninenzaka shopping streets (breakfast)
• Hokan-ji (brief; observatory)
• Kennin-ji
• Kodai-ji
• *Lunch* (might head over to Nishiki Market area)
• Unplanned / free & easy
• Yasaka Shrine
• Gion District (dinner, stroll along bridge and alleys)

D8 (17 May, Wed): Kyoto (South); might get a day pass

• Fushimi Inari
• *Breakfast* (cafe)
• Tofuku-ji
• Rengeo-in Sanjusangen-do
• Kyoto National Museum
• Fushimi Sake Village (optional)
• To-ji
• *Dinner* (Kyoto station?)

D9 (18 May, Thurs): Kyoto (Central)

• *Check out of Airbnb.
• Nijo Castle
• Nishiki Market (if not alr done)
• Imperial Palace
• *Lunch near Nanzen-ji* (soba?)
• Nanzenji / Zenrin-ji (shorter visits)
• Philosopher's path stroll
• Ginkaku-ji
• Gion District (dinner & a few drinks)
• Night bus to Tokyo

Days 10-13: Tokyo

D10 (19 May, Fri): Tokyo (West)

• *Arrival at Shinjuku Station @ 7 am
• Meiji Jingu Shrine / Yoyogi Park
• Takeshita Street Square / Omotesando (strolling around to marvel at the architecture)
• Statue of Hachiko / Shibuya Crossing
• MEGA Don Quixote / Other shopping malls in Shibuya (Lunch, shopping)
• Mori Tower + Tokyo City View & Sky Deck
• *Check in to Airbnb, get sum rest
• Odaiba Seaside Park
• Teamlabs Planets
• Unicorn Gundam Statue / DiverCity Tokyo Plaza (dinner)
• Rainbow Bridge (optional, a little distance)

D11 (20 May, Sat): Tokyo (East)

• Asakusa-jinja / Senso-ji
• Ueno Park
• Tokyo National Museum
• Ueno Tosho-gu Shrine
• Tokyo Station (lunch & shopping)
• Mitsubishi Ichigokan Museum (check out special exhibit)
• Akihabara (shopping & dinner)

D12 (21 May, Sun): Tokyo (Shinjuku/Imperial Palace)

• Imperial Palace East Gardens
• Kitanomaru-koen
• Yasakuni Shrine / Yushukan Museum
• Shinjuku City
• Tokyo Metro Govt Bldg
• Dinner ard Airbnb neighbourhood

D13 (22 May, Mon):

• *Check out of Airbnb
• Head over early to Narita Airport
• *Lunch before flight at noon*

P.s. Lockers at train stations will be utilised after checking out to store luggage.

Bought a house in socal back in May 2022, did change of address and everything the following month. We were receiving mail without fault for about a month before we noticed it was a week of no mail. My wife stopped our mailman leaving our cul-de-sac and he told her that we need to move the mailbox (located next to front door where it was prior to us purchasing house and was never touched) and that we should of got a notice in the mail...he never delivered this. We researched this and could not find a specific policy stating we HAVE to move mailbox (we are renovating and plan to eventually add a fence and relocate mailbox to curb years down the road), we confirmed this by visiting our local post office where the employee confirmed no issues with our mailbox and he would discuss with mailman.
We submit a file for a 'case' and they research it which leads to us getting confirmation from the local post office that we are OK and should be getting mail delivered...weeks go by and no mail...submit case again and next step is them telling us we will get a specific mail delivery person to deliver the mail while they look into this matter. Result is a random mailman delivering mail only to my house sporadically for a few weeks and then mail delivery stops again...
Open another case via USPS website resulting in them 'confirming' that mail is being delivered by my streets normal mailman...completely false. He still has never walked to my door to deliver mail, I am still sporadically receiving bundles of mail at a time from a separate carrier including packages. I now open my 3rd case (This is now October 2022), and demand to speak with the local postmaster (Henry Roberson). I show him pictures of my house listing and current pictures of the house showing the mailbox has never moved, I do not have a dog, there has never been any impeding of the doorway for the mail carrier. He assures me we are correct, and he will absolutely speak with mail carrier to ensure we will be getting our mail delivered the very next day. The next day...no mail...and the next week no mail or packages...despite seeing via Informed Delivery (this entire time from change of address) that mail was to be delivered.
I go back into the post office to speak with the Post Master again and he assures me he spoke with the carrier but says he will ensure the manager of carriers/routes (not sure of specific title) will have someone deliver our mail. Fast forward a few weeks, I am outside in my driveway and I get approached by USPS Federal Investigators, unbeknownst to me I tell them my side of the story and how I have not gotten any mail delivered etc...only for them to say "we are actually here to investigate a threat made to the carrier". Mind you, I have never spoken to the carrier or been within 10 feet of the carrier since I've moved into my house. He claimed I threatened him, only after months of me complaining to the USPS of not getting mail delivered. I provide ring footage and receipts from the day I threatened him to the inspectors, confirming I was nearly 30 minutes away from my house at the time he said I threatened him.
A few more weeks of sporadic mail delivery, I open my 4th case (November 2022), and continue to sporadically receive mail from random carriers throughout the following months. I have continued to have this issue, along with packages being delivered late due to my sporadic delivery schedule. USPS tracking items are continuing to be updated with "Held at customer request", I have received medicine from the VA late, bills within days of due dates.
​
I am looking for any advice on how to fix this issue, I just want my mail delivered. Today one of my neighbors walked over a piece of my mail that was delivered by the normal carrier to their house...
So far I have:
Spoken with post master several times
Spoken with USPS Postal Inspector
Local Consumer Affairs Office (told me to speak to local congressman??)
Sent letter to local congressman
Still not getting mail delivered as scheduled to my home coming up on nearly a year...
All internet research says "postmaster can handle it" but that has absolutely not been the case.
​
Edit: Picture of my mailbox/driveway/approach
https://i.imgur.com/0FCNCoC.jpg

Hey y’all could you uhhhh maybe look both ways before crossing the street? Perhaps make eye contact with drivers of cars before you step in front of them? Maybe don’t be on your phone while crossing a busy street?
Drivers are supposed to be vigilant of course but you should too. Don’t assume they see you. I’m worried about y’all’s safety.

If you work in a small ER not attached to a whole hospital what do you wish we could put on the sign out front?
Mine is simply “no ultrasound.” Or “no social work.” “If you want to hear the babies heart beat you need to keep going down the street.”
We don’t have a Doppler or ultrasound and we get so many pregnant people with complications and I’m like I can draw some blood to see if your still pregnant.
Our main is 5 miles away.

I was going through storage the other night and found an old scrapbook full of photos of my family. Most of them were photos of school plays, candids at the park, etc. I found a couple of photos of me and my siblings looking miserable in the summer heat in front of the opening of Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico. I showed my siblings the photo and we reminisced about the trip: how awesome the cave was, how our mom was terrified of the bats, how long and boring the road trip to Carlsbad was. My brother mentioned that she thought it was cool when we drove through Roswell.
Here is the problem: I am not altogether sure we went through Roswell, now that I think of it. This trip happened at least ten years ago, and I and my siblings were in elementary school at the time, me being the oldest. My brother has very few memories of the trip as he was young, my sister remembers bits and pieces, but I remember it best, so much of this account will be coming from my recollection of the event, and I don't know how reliable that memory is, considering how long ago this occurred.
I remember we were driving through an expanse of boring desert, and my mom suddenly said something about a town coming up. I got pretty excited and looked out the windows, and I remember a town appearing quite suddenly. There wasnt a sign or anything telling us where we were, but as we drove down the main street, all the shops were alien themed. There were green balloons with alien faces on them bobbing about in front of one store, I remember, and the windows of every shop showed alien-related merchandise within. My mom remarked that we must be in Roswell, and started to tell us what she knew about the Roswell incident and the town's history.
I don't remember whether the town existed beyond the main street. I don't recall whether there were houses anywhere, or roads leading to other parts of the town. As far as I remember, the town consisted only of the main street. Again, this may be a shortcoming of my own memory, though my siblings don't remember anything beyond that street either.
Something that struck me as odd about the town was that there just. Weren't people. You would think, during the Summer, that a town like Roswell would be chock-full of tourists, but there was absolutely noone in the town but us. There were a few cars parked along the street, as if their owners had gone inside a shop, but there was no movement within the stores. It was entirely empty, like an alien-themed ghost-town.
I remember I started to get scared when I noticed this, and told my dad to drive faster. I was a generally anxious child and getting panic attacks was a regular occurence for me, so my parents did not take me seriously at first, but eventually I started crying and my dad drove faster, hoping that leaving the town would calm me down.
I asked both my mom and dad about that part of the trip, but neither of them remembered aything odd. My dad doesnt remember a town at all, and my mom says she vaguely remembers it, and that I started to freak out, but she doesn't remember it being empty. Only me and my sister remember the town being empty.
I looked up some photos of Roswell today, and it doesnt look anything like the street I saw. It is obvious to me that we were not in Roswell, but now I want to know: where were we?
I have looked at several maps trying to find a town along our route that may have been the one we visited. I have found nothing, but I also do not know the area well, so if anyone can help that would be appreciated!
A couple of the puzzle pieces I have tried to put together:
☆ This occurred sometime around the Summer of 2014, in the middle of a very sunny day ☆ The town might have had only one street ☆ The town looked like an alien-themed tourist trap ☆ The town was completely empty ☆ The town was somewhere on the way between Trinidad in Colorado and Carlsbad in New Mexico ☆ We probably did drive through Roswell, but this place was very much not Roswell
That is all I can gather, as it happened so long ago that most of my family does not remember it. Am I just going crazy or something? Did I have a really vivid dream and somehow integrate it into my memories? Was it really Roswell and I am just misremembering? This has been driving me crazy

A call came in that there was another disappearance on Lockhill Road. My whole town was buzzing about a person named Josephine, an old lady that had the tendency to be a little bit of a pain in the butt for cashiers, but otherwise a quiet one in town.
Apparently, the patrol that frequents near that road found her car in a ditch and saw no traces of her anywhere. The police went to check her house and saw that she wasn't there either. There was only one conclusion we all had to come to. The road has claimed another victim.
As for my name, I'm only going to tell you that it's Adam, and I'm here to explain to you that there's something absurdly bizarre about the road.
Lockhill Rd. is one of the oldest roads in Illinois. There isn't anything significantly special about it. On the surface, it's covered in large cracks, grass overtaking the edges, and it's surrounded by an unusually swamp-like environment, something a little bizarre given how up North I am.
But it's also got a rap sheet that would make Ted Bundy jealous.
From what I've learned in my twenty-eight years of living in this town, over the last two hundred years or so, around three hundred people have mysteriously disappeared. That's a significantly high number and you're probably wondering why people would want to drive on it?
Here's the thing, nobody typically uses that road. They just find themselves on it.
It's really weird but you can find yourself suddenly on that road without warning. One moment you'll be on the highway that's near my town, and right as you get off, you'll find yourself driving on that road. But this only happens at night. As a rule, driving at night is strongly prohibited. The only issue is that cops are less inclined to go about driving themselves. And this happens at completely random moments as well.
The next question I know you all are asking is "why would any of us want to live here then?"
Well, the thing is there's a mine nearby. It's a salt mine and a lot of money is gained from it. You have to weigh in the risk and reward factors here. There are people here who— despite the danger— are making bank. I don't know how much a typical salt mine will pay, but I think the extra danger of the road is the reason why the income for locals is so much better here. So for the most part we prefer not to talk about it.
Now you're probably wondering why am I here? I clearly don’t work at the mine, but instead, I am a neighborhood watch patrolman.
Since disappearances can happen if people are caught driving, I— as well as others— found ourselves working alongside the local police to keep people off of the roads for their own safety. It seems that whatever effect the road can create, it doesn't work if you're walking on two feet.
So my job is relatively safe. Sure, I don't get any weapons training other than a baton and mace, which is why I prefer to regularly work out and make sure that criminals, usually rowdy teenagers, don't have a good advantage over me or any of my partners.
But I'm here to tell you about how I got sloppy and nearly paid the price with my life...
It was your typical Wednesday, and I was with my friends at the police station, getting ready to sign in to let the department know that we were going to be working today.
That's when officer Smith (not his real name by the way) approached me and said in her smooth, southern voice, "Now you boys try to have a good night. We've been getting some reports that there's been a gang of kids that keep breaking house windows. So far they haven't entered any, but I think they're just trying to create an atmosphere of tension."
I stood there silently, always having difficulty talking to her. She was serious about her job and wasn't too kind to anyone who was caught slacking. But she cared to a great degree.
I mustered up the courage to say, "Will do. We got our mace and batons ready."
"Good, but still, if they turn out to be more hostile than usual, I need you fellas to call us ASAP."
It wasn't lost on me that even if we did call up for the actual police officers, it would still take a good while for them to arrive, giving any of these troublemakers a chance to escape from us. No cars at night, remember.
One of my partners, Derek, replied with his usual enthusiasm, "Don't sell us too short ma'am, Adam and I have been doing this for two years now. We're basically experts at this point."
She noticed his smug expression and quickly shot it down.
"I've been a cop for seven years. In that time I believe thirteen people have gone missing. And many of you neighborhood watch patrolmen have been hurt, sometimes severely, by these thugs. Call us." she ended it with a stern warning.
Derek always had this issue with over-confidence and I often think that's why he was never able to get a girlfriend. I think he’s just overdoing it half the time, thinking that it impresses people.
Still, this is the first time I've actually known this much about officer Smith. Seven years is a long time, and for that many people to have gone missing, I can tell that's got to weigh heavily on her mind.
But our patrol went on as usual. We did our regular routine for the first few hours with nothing more than warning people that they can't get in their cars because, in about an hour, the sun would've completely set by then.
Sure that's an entire hour, but why take the chance?
But around the time when the sun had already descended, I got a call on my radio by a woman that said:
"Neighborhood Patrol Unit #9, do you read me?"
"Neighborhood Patrol Unit #9, we hear you loud and clear."
"Number Nine we've been getting some odd reports of a car that is driving around. It was reported by a civilian caller, but all police officers who responded to the area haven't been able to track their location. We need you to stay alert, the last coordinates of their whereabouts were in your general location so keep your eyes peeled."
"Dispatch, we'll keep our eyes on the lookout for the driver. We'll have to flag them down and hope that they stop."
"Copy, good hunting."
It was always anxiety-inducing to hear that someone was driving around. They had to be someone who had come off the highway.
"Well, looks like we got to chase someone down on foot today." Derek happily said.
"Come on man, I don't even want to think about going after someone in a car."
"Yeah, but at least it's something to do." he chuckled.
I wasn't amused. Frankly speaking, this was only a job for me. Sure I don't get paid as much as a cop, but it's less dangerous. Now that I'm being tasked with stopping a vehicle, this is going to prove way above my pay grade. I almost can’t remember the last time I had to deal with a driver.
But the night dragged on as usual and still no sign of the vehicle. I was pretty much convinced that they must have gone off on some other section of the town, but Derek was remaining vigilant. He took this job way too seriously. Or perhaps he wasn't taking it seriously enough?
"You hear that?" he abruptly said.
We both quieted down and tried to listen carefully.
There was nothing for a brief few seconds, other than the sound of crickets in the distance and an owl hooting.
But then there was a sudden screeching of tires nearby. We had our driver and quickly started running towards whatever direction it was that we heard it from.
Despite having flashlights and reflectors on, I somehow found myself alone. I shouted out for Derek at the top of my lungs.
I heard his distant reply, "Adam! Adam, where'd you go?"
I followed his voice and saw that he had gone down the next street over.
"Derek, what are you doing over there? You were supposed to stay with me the whole time?" I shouted.
I was trying my best to hide my anger from him. He shouldn't have broken off just to chase down a car.
"What do you mean? You broke off from me?" he shouted back.
"You were supposed to go with me down Amberg Street!"
He was about to respond, but the screeching of those tires could be heard coming down my road.
I looked to my left and saw a large Chevrolet speeding toward me. I jumped out of the way just in time before they hit me. They knocked over some trash cans and a mailbox and appeared to be driving with delirium. Now I was having suspicions about this person.
"Derek, I saw the driver. I think they're drunk and they're taking their car out for a joyride since no one else is around."
He sounded confused, "Eh, what's the protocol for this again?"
I ignored his forgetfulness and pulled out my radio to call dispatch again.
"Neighborhood Patrol Unit #9 to Dispatch, we have a red Chevrolet driving erratically on Amberg Street and the local area, over."
"Dispatch to Unit #9, where are they heading, over?"
I took a look at my compass that I always keep with me, and replied, "Dispatch they're heading towards the North and don't appear to be stopping anytime soon, over."
"Dispatch to Unit #9, do not engage with the driver. We're sending over a bicycle unit to try and slow them down the best we can. We can't take risks with a vehicle, over."
"Okay, we will not engage any further but will keep you updated, over and out."
Derek soon approached behind me and said, "I get so tired of always having to use those police codewords."
"It's so that there's no confusion. You do realize there are police officers on this channel too, right?"
"Yeah, yeah. Don't lose your hair over it. I was just complaining a little."
I gave him a smirk and the two of us continued on our way. Since we didn't have the responsibility of chasing after the driver, we went about our usual patrol but with a little more alertness in mind.
But we made a bad decision to be passing by that dreaded road. It was part of our routine, and usually passing by never caused any problems.
The only problem is that as we were going by, we saw the truck. It ran off the road and crashed into a tree.
From what I could see, the silhouette of the guy was inside.
I gave Derek my radio and told him to call and tell them that we had found the driver and that they appeared to have been trying to go down Lockhill Road.
I ran over to the left side of the road where the car laid wedged up against the side of the tree. The driver's door was smashed in and I would have to climb in from the passenger side to try and save them from burning to death.
When I went for the door, I briefly hesitated. The idea of getting in a car at night and being directly on Lockhill left me with this gut feeling that kept telling me that I should just turn back and wait for First Responders to arrive.
But given that they were going to be arriving not by ambulance, but by bicycle, and with the car slowly starting to burn, I took a deep breath and opened the door, climbing inside and reaching for the man as quickly as I could.
He was knocked out cold and I grabbed hold of his arm and shook him as much as I could to wake him up.
The fire was growing and I unbuckled his seat belt, wrapped my arms around him, and used my legs to forcibly pull him out of the vehicle. This man was fat and a pain to try and pull out.
At last, I felt the weight release and both of us fell onto the grass below. I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that I was able to save him just in time.
I got myself back to my feet and looked over to the exit of the road.
I must have fallen into a state of disbelief because I saw that there was nothing but a long stretch of road surrounded by marshland under a red moonlight.
I turned over to the other side, a soon to be fleeting hope already starting to take hold of me, and saw that it was the same in the other direction.
"No, no, no!" I shouted. "I wasn't even driving the car! The car wasn't moving!"
How could this have happened to me? This wasn't supposed to happen. As far as we all knew, if you're driving, you become snatched up by the road. At least, that's what I think the town's consensus was. Maybe everyone just assumes that that is the likely scenario. It's not like anyone's ever returned to tell us that simply being inside your car is enough to warrant whatever unusual forces are at work here.
I kept pacing myself, running from one end to the other, hoping that maybe I just misjudged the distance and I can easily still walk out and find Derek.
But besides the eerie red light coming from above, all I saw was darkness.
The drunken man groaned. This quickly caught my attention and I ran back over to him.
He was still alive but not fully awake yet.
Then I remembered my radio and reached for it. I felt nothing in my pocket and instantly remembered that I handed my radio off to Derek.
Seeing that that wasn't going to work, I went for my phone next. But there was no signal. I was completely stranded.
In a fit of rage, I started swearing up and down out of the frustration of being caught in this. I guess it's true what they say, no good deed goes unpunished. I should have listened to my instincts and told myself not to intervene. I should have left this guy and waited for backup like they always tell us. And now I'm trapped on this road with a drunkard, who I was now more than happy to abandon.
He started moving around and his eyes opened. He was awake and clearly saw the burning wreckage that was his truck.
His voice was rough, having a noticeable smoker's voice. "Hey, what happened to my piece of junk?"
"You crashed into a tree, you idiot," I alerted him to my presence.
He turned around and became instantly belligerent with me.
Holding up both of his fists at me, he fiercely said, "Who are you calling an idiot?"
I wasn't intimidated. The fact of the matter is that I work out regularly and when I was five, my parents thought it would be a good idea for me to take self-defense classes. Thank you, Mom and Pop.
He threw one of his fists my way and I was able to dodge it, backing up and having my own fists ready. When he saw that he missed, he threw his other one, only for me to grab it and easily pull them inwards with my back turned and flipped him over me, letting him hit the ground hard.
Even though he was drunk and probably didn't feel the pain all that much, his body was too heavy for him to have any decent motor function and I believe he passed out again.
Seeing that he wasn't going to be a problem anymore, I walked around— staying relatively close to the man— trying to see if I could get a signal by changing location.
This went on for about twenty minutes or so, and despite my best efforts, I was left with nothing. The unusual silence was broken by a few sharp coughs. I guess he was due to wake up again.
I stood over him, expecting him to go into another rant about what I had said earlier, but he seemed to have had a mental reset.
"Eh, who are you?"
"My name is Adam. I'm part of the Neighborhood Patrol. You had a car wreck because you were drunk, am I correct?" I said in my best stoic voice.
He got back to his feet quickly and smelled horrible. I only just now noticed because I was distracted by my situation. The sting of his alcoholic breath was much too strong for me, forcing me to take a few steps back.
"I only had a few drinks," he slurred.
"Only? How much is only?" I let my anger slip out.
"Five... seven maybe?"
"Of what?" I ordered.
"Hennessey,"
This guy was a moron. Now I was trapped on this god-forsaken road with a man who had only half a brain functioning.
I walked to one side of the road and had to take a wild guess as to which way would be best. I wasn't about to sit out here in the dark with this guy. I could only rely on the illumination of the red moonlight. I wanted to save the battery on my flashlight, so I thought it best not to use it at this moment.
"Look," I said. "We need to start walking in a direction to get out of here. Maybe there is a way to escape, but we have to come to a decision on which way."
I guess he remembered my remark from earlier after all because he said, "I ain't going anywhere with you kid. You call me an idiot."
I rolled my eyes. This guy was as petty as a child, and yet calls me a kid.
"Listen closely. You're on that road we're not supposed to be on. You got me roped into this, and I'm going to make a decision. Either come with me or stay here and wait for rescue. Not that they will be coming."
He turned around and went back to the car. At first, I was confused as to what he was up to, but I almost had a quick heart attack when I briefly thought that he was going to pull a gun out on me. I was already preparing myself to start running when he turned around and had a beer bottle in his hand.
"I ain't going with you anywhere,"
He threw the bottle at me, narrowly hitting me in the head. It shattered on the other side of the road and for a brief moment, I thought I heard something skitter away. Since I've been here, I haven't heard a single animal so the idea that something was back there silently observing us made my skin crawl.
"Fine!" I said. "Stay here. I can't make you come with me. Let's hope that we can find you by tomorrow when the sun comes up."
The heavy man flipped me off, signaling my cue to leave. I was quick to put as much distance between us as I went to the right end of the road and started my journey with only a flashlight in hand.
For the most part, nothing had happened in the last five minutes and I was content with the silence that surrounded me. Better to hear nothing than to hear something. But I would rather hear my radio crackling to life at this moment.
Going a little further on, the silence was broken again. But this time, instead of the groaning coming from that guy, I heard a blood-filled screaming coming from way back. That man had stayed behind and now he was being attacked by something. It was so guttural and wrapped up in agony that already the hairs on my body were standing up.
A part of me was screaming that I needed to go back and check on him. But whatever it was, it likely had already done the deed. Plus, if I go back, who's to say I won't become the next victim. There's always been something odd about this road and I have to approach it with the highest end of paranoia.
My only other option was to keep pressing forward and hope that salvation is at the end. Running was starting to feel like a better option, but I refrained from it. I could easily tire myself out and I didn't want to be stationary. It clearly didn't provide any safety for that drunkard. I just had to keep pressing forward at a modest pace.
Something has changed. It's been about three hours now and the moon hasn't moved. And that blood-red color is hurting my eyes. I don't like to keep my eyes shut, for fear that something might come out from nowhere and attack me, but the soreness is starting to get to me.
What's worse is that I can hear footsteps behind me. They're light on their feet, but each step is almost echoing my pace. I sped up just a little to test out my theory and whatever it was, it simultaneously matched me. I heard it lingering always behind me. My paranoia is starting to overtake any rational thinking that I have. But then again, nothing about this road is rational.
The steps seemed to be speeding up even though I had been going at the same pace for the last ten minutes. My breathing was starting to betray me, growing louder and more hoarse with each intake of the unseasonably cold air. And then there was a steadily growing whispering that was surrounding me.
Finally, having had enough of the pursuit, I turned around, pointing the flashlight at as many parts of the road as I could to get a glimpse of who was following me. But it was empty.
"No, no, I heard something... someone..." I whispered to myself.
Turning back in my original direction, the steps began again. And the whispering was only growing louder.
Without a second thought, I started charging forward, done with whatever it was that was messing with me. I wanted to get away from them, but I could faintly hear their footsteps behind me. It was growing closer even though I was now running at full speed.
In my mind, I thought maybe I could fight it. Perhaps the drunkard was caught off-guard and that's how it got him. But my legs kept moving forward, a sense of dread was keeping me in flight mode, preventing me from wanting to switch to fight mode.
No matter what, one thing was for certain. I wasn't alone on this lonely road. That's perhaps one of the worst feelings.
Up ahead, I saw a distant flashing. They were police flashes. As I drew closer, my pursuer's footsteps quieted down and the whispering ceased.
Standing in front of me was a police officer and his vehicle behind him.
"Oh thank you, I've been trapped on this road for hours." I called out to him.
His voice was low and had an echo to it which was an immediate put-off. "It's okay son. We got reports of a disappearance happening here earlier today. They sent me to try and get you."
I replied, down on my knees due to exhaustion. "Who? Dispatch?"
"Yes,"
Upon further inspection, I started noticing some irregularities. His voice and the way he spoke sounded cold and indifferent. I would think a police officer would be happy to have found someone who was lost on this road for the first time.
Another thing that was making me nervous was how unprofessional he was behaving. His answers were vague, and his appearance looked worn-out. His uniform was tattered and his hair messy. And despite there being light from the moon, the police cars headlights, and my flashlight, his face was shrouded in a dark shadow that purposely was making sure that he was obscure for me to identify any details.
I got back onto my feet and quickly looked down near his waist. I didn't see a holster.
"Where's your gun?"
"Not important." he replied harshly.
I leered at him, my body instantly going into high alert mode again. "It's very important."
"Come with me. I'll give you a drive back home."
I did another quick analysis of his appearance and saw that there was no radio, no gun, and no badge. That would mean this was no cop.
"How about we see your face first," I flashed my light up to his face, something I had been avoiding because that would be rude. And this was an instant regret.
His eyes were glazed over with a red glow coming from them. The mouth was full of razor-sharp teeth, and the skin appeared to be leathery and pale.
He echoed, "Lunchtime."
He jumped me, throwing me back to the ground, and kept trying to bite me. It took all my strength just to keep him from getting close to my face. I kept hearing the snapping of his teeth right into my ear, and a desperate struggle ensued.
I had no weapon on me, only basic self-defense skills and my baton but I couldn’t reach for it, and this guy had some inhuman strength. Despite his body looking frail and emaciated, his strength was more than on par with mine.
"I need food," he— it growled.
I gritted my teeth, getting ready to take a huge risk. Removing one of my arms just for a split second, I punched him as hard as I could in his head.
Despite the bizarreness of this man, pain was still something that he experienced. His grip released and he held on to his face.
I got back up to my feet and grabbed my flashlight to keep my eyes on him. Now I could see what it was that I did. The entire right side had been caved in.
"My God, what are you?"
Despite the impact to the side of his head, he smiled through bloody teeth and said, "Merely a puppet."
At that, his body started to disintegrate into a pile of dust, and red light streaks shot up into the air and dispersed back into the surrounding forest.
I looked around, convinced that what I had experienced was my mind psychologically breaking at this point. When I turned back towards the police car, I thought maybe I could start driving it back. Only to be met with a long-abandoned Lincoln car.
"Looks like I'm still stuck on the road." I sighed.
Exhaustion, thirst, and hunger were starting to take their toll on me. I was desperate for something and now I'm regretting my decision not to have protein bars on me at all times.
Every passing minute was a grim reminder that my time was running out. The human body can only survive for three to four days without any water and from what I could tell, I'm well past the first day. And I'm certain that constantly moving is only lessening those precious days that I have left.
I could hear them whispering behind me again. The footsteps had grown numerous; like there was a crowd behind me. I was so tired. I needed a moment to rest but I was too afraid that that would be the last thing I would do.
Out of sheer frustration with my followers, I turned around, half expecting that there would be nothing again.
What a regretful decision that turned out to be.
This time I could see who it was. It was a crowd of people. All of their eyes were glowing red, and their bodies looked like they had shriveled up, walking limply at me. In the crowd, I saw a familiar face. The drunk driver from earlier was among them. His eyes are glowing red and his body already looked like it had been drained of all fluids, same as the rest.
I turned back and started running as fast as I could. The sweat that grew on me only managed to slow me down as it sapped away more water from my body.
I thought for sure that this was a sign that I was going to end up becoming one of them. Becoming some sort of shriveled puppet for whatever it is that has a hold on this road.
They were still chasing after me, running as well, and not too much longer, I ended up losing steam and collapsing on the side of the road. I was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and my legs were numb.
If they reached me again, there's no way I could escape.
I heard the sound of a gate grinding shut. Then it opened again. Then closed again.
Looking up, I saw an old, run-down Victorian Manor. There was an eerie red glow coming from inside, but what wasn't having a red glow today.
Feeling a sudden surge of adrenaline kicking back in, I found the strength to climb up the small hill to reach the front door of this suspiciously abandoned home.
Before I receive any judgment, anyone who was desperate for shelter would have done the same thing regardless of the obvious red flags, pun not intended.
Kicking the door in, I wasted no time entering and checking behind me to make sure that my fan club wasn't following in. To my surprise, they were back on the road but stood there watching me as I entered.
I honestly couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one.
Closing the door behind me, I was greeted with chilly, dusty air that kept forcing me to cough.
I pulled my shirt over my face and moved inside, wondering where that red light was coming from. Inside was a variety of dull, neutral colors of furniture and walls. What was more jarring was the number of taxidermied animals that were littered everywhere. From the walls, to lampstands, to bear rugs, everything about this house was dead, gloomy, and sinister.
I went into the kitchen and sure enough, nothing could be found in terms of food. But I did find water. There was a dirty puddle of it in the sink, and out of desperation, I started drinking it, regardless of the health risks. And it was as bitter and rusty tasting as I should’ve expected. I could only hope that it doesn’t come back to kill me.
Wiping my face with a raggedy towel nearby, I briefly heard something rustling underneath the floorboards. That was enough to tell me that I wasn't alone in the house. But now I was trapped. My only other choice was to take my chances with the outside where that menacing crowd was waiting for me, or use whatever strength I had left on whatever was hiding in here.
I inspected each of the other rooms on the first floor, not even bothering to check the second one. So far nothing seemed terribly alarming, but I could still hear the sound of footsteps beneath me. They were loud, walking on gravel. I had this sinking feeling that they wanted me to know that they were here.
Seeing that I had no other choice, I found one last unopened door. I took a deep breath, and it slowly creaked open leading to a flight of stairs that descended into a reddish glow that was surrounded by an overwhelmingly sinister blackness that threatened to envelop me should I be brave enough to proceed forward.
With a single gulp, I took my first step down and felt the first few droplets of cold sweat. I also felt a nauseating pain in my stomach, but that could be from the water.
I took each step cautiously, believing that any moment now the door upstairs would suddenly close like a cliche horror movie.
When my foot finally hit the floor, I was surprised that the door remained open. But I was met with a hallway. A long, red wallpapered, red carpeted hallway. At this point, I'm starting to become sick of the color red. At least the colors here were a dull shade.
Pulling out my flashlight again, the flickering that I was receiving from it was alarming and I had half a mind to run back up. But I had to know if I was going to be able to live in this house for some time. And the idea of someone else being in it wasn't comforting.
I held my flashlight up like a weapon, preparing to hit whatever decided to jump out at any corner that I approached.
But no matter how many corners I reached, I was met with another long hallway that stretched roughly 20 ft.
My breathing was becoming heavier and the air was getting warmer. The hallways were growing more vibrant with each turn, and they seemed to change from right to left a lot.
At the end of each turn though, I started to notice something move just out of sight at the next turn. At first, it was tiny, like the back end of a mouse. But each time I reached the next turn, it was getting taller and I was starting to see more of what it was.
Seeing that it was trying to avoid me, I gave chase and prepared myself to start my assault on whatever it was. Out of desperation, all I could think of was to fight everything. My every thought was aggression and survival.
And yet it managed to stay ahead of me at all times as if it was teasing me. And then it finally dawned on me that I had run quite some distance.
Turning back, I realized that I had made a foolish decision. Everything was getting cleaner and more vibrant still. I had gotten myself trapped. Now I was stuck in this maze with something always ahead of me, managing to move out of sight before I could get a good look at it.
Frustration, starvation, and an overwhelming sense of dread made me want to do anything to get out of this maze and not see what was at the end of it.
I looked at the wall and used the butt end of the flashlight to start digging a hole through it. I didn't care anymore, I wanted out.
I kept chipping away with frantic speed, struggling to tear apart the solid wooden wall until it finally collapsed outwards and revealed a monstrous void on the other side. I poked my head out and saw that there was nothing out there. A cold, unfathomably deep void that was a grim choice that if I was ever going to get out of here, my only other choice was to keep pushing forward through the maze, or I could take my chances of falling into oblivion.
Seeing what my choices were, I took a few steps back, slumped against the other side, and started to cry. I never normally did something like that but the stress, the feeling of entrapment, and this whole situation that stemmed from an act of kindness has led me to an increasing sense of hopelessness that seized every one of my thoughts.
I must've kept crying for who-knows-how-long anymore. It no longer matters. No matter what happens today, I'm going to die. I just want to lie here and finally get some sleep. It wasn't the most comfortable bed, but I needed this.
I was alerted by the sound of footsteps approaching. My eyes darted open and I saw that the crowd of red-eyed people were following in after me. They were already at the other end of the hallway, staring me down.
Natural instincts kicked in and I got back on my feet and started running as fast as I could to whatever it was that they were cornering me in. If there is a chance of getting out, I have to take this.
I ran and ran, never once taking a moment to catch my breath. I still wanted to sleep, but survival was pushing me forward.
It took me a few minutes to realize that something odd was going on in the hallway itself. It was starting to become warped, blindingly bright in its red colors, and inducing petrifying fear into my heart.
But then the red wallpaper was peeling off, the wooden walls breaking up into shards, and the red lamps that hung on the sides were falling apart. It was slowly getting darker and darker. I turned on my flashlight just to make sure that I didn't run into a wall, but it flickered erratically, making the way ahead obscure and unpredictable.
It didn't matter for too long because I made it to the end.
At the far end of the last hallway was a swirling vortex of black mist, an eerie white glow around the edge, and red eyes. Of course...
They stared at me as if they were awaiting my arrival. On the ceiling was a black slime that was morphing together and splitting apart, dripping down to the floor. From the vortex of eyes and mist, five long pincers were stretched out, reminding me of praying mantis’ pincers.
When I moved in closer by a few steps, I was compelled to stare into a cosmic maelstrom of impossible depths, and through the swarming array of red lightning at the other end of this unfathomable creature, a pulsing organ, shaped like a heart but covered in wiggling strands of hair and misshapen eyes. The pupils were like that of a goat, and— you guessed it— red.
I was disturbed by the crowd of red-eyed people behind me. They stopped their advance as I was making my approach to the anomaly.
"You have made it," it whispered with a slow and calculated voice.
"I have," I said, unsure about what to do next.
"You ran from my grasp outside, entered my home, and your perseverance has brought you this far so that you may see my true form."
I took a few more steps forward, peering at the entity with a sudden rush of curiosity. Upon my even closer observation, from behind the deathly heart, I swear I could see three figures shrouded in a veil of shadows behind it.
But instead of asking any questions, I begged, "Let me out!"
"Why should I? I have no reason to spare you. As you can see behind you, I feed on the minds of those who enter my domain."
Once again, my fight or flight instincts were kicking in and I was ready to do what I must. But it would be crazy to attack something as abstract and out of this world as this creature was. And then I thought for a moment. Could a deal be reached?
"Perhaps—" I swallowed. "Perhaps we can come to an agreement."
A jarring long pause followed before it said, "How so?"
"I'll uh..." I tried to think about what I was going to do. If it's anything that I've learned from movies and TV shows where these types of deals happened, this thing will want me to bring more people and encourage them to drive so that it can snatch them up onto the road. But I wasn't about to sell out my own race. I rationed with myself that I could do something else. Perhaps I should ask it what it wants.
"Is there anything that you want? Something that doesn't involve me selling out people to you?"
"If I say no, are you still willing to offer me people to feed on?"
I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. If this was going to be where I would die, I was going to go out with a shred of dignity intact. Even if that meant having to give up my own life to save others. I don't think I could live with myself by tricking people.
"No. I care about other people's lives more than my own. I wouldn't be able to live with myself or look my mother in the eyes if she ever found out."
I stood there defiantly, but inside I was shaking and having a horrible case of butterflies in my stomach.
"How noble," it said softly. "All right then, I will make another deal for you. I can see that you will be most valuable in the future. I'll let you go on the condition that you bring me more creatures like me."
"What, disturbing?" I thought.
But what I said was, "Another like you?"
"I am a being known as a Primordial. There are many like me on this planet and I wish to devour them."
"How am I supposed to do that?"
"I'll give you a helping hand. Plus, there's a war between them and I'd rather not have my territory and peace disturbed or my human snacks wiped out over their infighting."
"That's more doable I guess." I said, believing it much less morally wrong to sell out another one of these "Primordials" and sacrifice them to this monstrosity.
"And to make sure that you don't go back on your word—"
Before I had time to react, one of its pincers extended out too quickly for me to dodge in time, drilling itself into my shoulder and leaving a nasty blackened puncture wound.
"Now you'll be forced to bring me my prize. Don't go running away. I have planted myself inside your body and could easily bring you back here should you betray me."
I should have guessed there was going to be some insurance for this creature. I was trapped and had to go through with this deal. Now the next means of action was to find another creature like this.
The creature's pincers all extended outwards and a loud flashbang hit me before I could look away. My mind left spinning, and in utter confusion. And then I heard my name being repeatedly screamed out to me.
"ADAM! ADAM! ADAM!"
I awoke, shocked to see that Derek was pulling me out of a car. He dropped me onto the ground and we both were breathing heavily.
"Man, you sure are a heavy guy," he remarked.
I was quick to realize where I was and quickly got back to my feet to look for the drunk driver. He wasn't in the driver's seat.
"Where did the driver go?" I asked.
Derek slowly got back on his feet and said, "You're welcome, and I don't know. He must have run off by the time you got over there."
I was smart enough to know that that wasn't the truth. I had to play the part that I was not aware of what truly happened to him.
I had to fill out a report to the police department and tell them everything that I knew. Well, a manufactured story that would coincide with Derek's side of the story. I took it upon myself to have the next week off, desperately trying to drown out my frequent nightmares of whatever it was that I saw with bottle after bottle of vodka and whiskey.
But one night, after a rough night of trying to get some sleep, I was disturbed by the sound of an owl. I don't know why this particular owl was able to get me out of bed, but when I went to the window to see how such a creature could be so loud, I was given a grim reminder.
That bird had that particular pair of velvet-colored eyes that I had grown to disdain. And it was a warning to me to get to work.
A sudden rush of piercing pain struck me in my shoulder. When I pulled my shirt down to check it, I could see the black, veiny markings exactly where the puncture wound happened. Weird, this wound disappeared when I got back to town. But that was a warning shot to get to work on finding more of those foul, lowlife primordial things that this... thing wants.
And right before I closed the blinds, I heard it whisper to me once more with a mocking tone. "I'm waiting. Get moving now. Or perhaps you'd like to get your mom in a car next?"
It seems that there would be no rest for the weary today. I have to get ready now, I have to find something out there. Until I'm able to update, take care and for the love of God, don't drive at night in a town with a street called "Lockhill Road."

Her next door neighbors have 2 pits and my uncle who lives across the street has about 3 in his front yard. All 5 dogs get loose from time to time and they are mean. Whenever I visit my mom my uncles pitbulls go crazy, jumping and pulling on their chains, growling at me. I don’t see how anyone finds those hideous dogs cute or loveable. I don’t trust them at all even though my moms neighbor and uncle claims they are harmless. I decided to stop by my moms house with my 4 year old and 3 month old last week. As SOON as I get out of the car to get my kids out, one of the neighbors pit bulls literally squeezes it’s way out from under the fence and runs to my car. Luckily I got in fast enough but I’ve started to carry a pocket knife with me now.

​
1. Blockchain Gaming Builds up forward movement
While decentralized applications can be worked to serve many capabilities, a fast look at the main 20 developing blockchain new businesses shows most dApps can be categorized as one of three classes:
​
1.Blockchain Gaming
2.Decentralized Money (DeFi)
3.NFT Commercial centers
What's amazing, notwithstanding, is the speed at which blockchain games keep on developing comparative with DeFi conventions (concerning dynamic clients.)
As per Comparative Web, highest level DeFi conventions like Lido have seen a significant drop in site traffic since November of 2021 (when the crypto market in general entered remedy an area).
​
2. DAOs Go Standard
Blockchain Development Company As the Web3 development develops, the change from customary corporate designs (like LLCs) to Decentralized Independent Associations (otherwise known as DAOs) keeps on getting momentum.
undefined Searches for "Decentralized Independent Association" (DAO) have developed by 25% over the most recent 5 years.
3. KYC Incorporates Into DeFi Applications
By and large, one of the essential allures of decentralized finance (DeFi) is its intrinsically unknown nature.
undefined Searches for "decentralized finance" are up 1,400% north of 5 years.
From one perspective, DeFi advocates accept the public authority should not be understanding how regular residents manage their cash.
On the opposite side, states have a personal stake in forestalling wrongdoings like tax evasion, tax avoidance, and the financing of psychological warfare.
Anyway, rather than addressing whether guideline could occur, the genuine inquiry became: which government will manage crypto first?
In Spring of 2022, the European Parliament reported clearing limitations on unknown crypto exchanges.
crypto-resources new-rules-min. The EU was quite possibly the earliest government to pass boundless guidelines on crypto exchanges.
4. DApps Send off Backend "Items"
In businesses like SaaS, repeating income is the situation.
Along these lines, adapting the clients they truly do have has become basic to the progress of numerous dApps.
5. Blockchain Organizations Grow To New Chains :
With regards to building a dApp, the blockchain an engineer chooses to expand on is unbelievably significant.
undefined Searches for "multichain" are up 55% throughout recent years.
6. DeFi And Blockchain Gaming Join
By all accounts, blockchain games are drawing in a bigger number of new clients versus committed DeFi conventions.
At times, these games fall under the "Play to Procure" model, where members acquire tokens as a compensation for playing. In others, dApp developers consolidated the act of yield cultivating (which started in DeFi) directly into their games.
7. Blockchains Become Specialty Explicit
In the realm of SaaS, recognizing what issues an organization settles — and in which specialty — is vital to an organization's prosperity.
As per high profile VC financial backer Marc Andreessen (pioneer behind a16z):
​
8. Interchain Operability Turns out to be Progressively Significant
Starting from the presentation of Bitcoin in 2009, in excess of 1,000 new and special blockchains have been sent off.
While large numbers of these undertakings utilize comparable (if not indistinguishable) programming dialects, a considerable lot of the present most famous chains don't.
Blockchain Development Services Essentially in light of the fact that the absence of dApps made it pointless to move assets between chains. All things being equal, most tokens were bought and hung on trades with the end goal of speculative exchanging.
​
9. UI Issues Get Addressed
As numerous innovation organizations have taken in the most difficult way possible, client experience is basic to accomplishing mass reception.
​
From AOL to MySpace, the Web burial ground is loaded up with the leftovers of organizations whose contenders offered a simpler, more helpful UI (for example Gmail and Facebook).
​
Furthermore, in the event that there's one grievance industry insiders catch wind of Web3, it's the way cumbersome, threatening, and irritating it is to utilize decentralized digital currency wallets (which are expected to connect with dApps).
Truly, with in excess of 30 million clients, Meta Mask designers are very much aware of these issues.
As a matter of fact, in December of 2021, Meta Mask reported it would dispense a piece of its new $65 million raise towards building a more natural and simpler to-get a handle on UI.
10. NFTs Spotlight On Genuine Utility:
Cambridge Word reference positioned "NFTs" as the 2021 'Expression of the Year'.
Be that as it may, quick forward to April of 2022, and interest in NFTs had plunged.
There are two probably explanations behind this.
undefined Google search interest in "non-fungible tokens" may have crested.
conclusion :
That closes our rundown of the main patterns in the blockchain world happening at present.
Large numbers of the present dApps contain a large group of issues (from security blemishes to UI issues).
Nonetheless, as additional designers become familiar with the intricate details of building decentralized applications, both development and upgrades are going on at an inexorably high speed.

To even the most casual of observers, it was immediately clear that Leo was not just an ordinary earthworm. While few would notice the light tells like the oddly aware way he inspected his surroundings and unusually graceful movement, none could overlook the spiffy top hat resting on top of his... well, front end. Even if someone were to assume that someone merely decided to put a tiny hat on a worm for fun, those conceptions would be dashed aside the moment he wriggled his body to open an interdimensional portal in front of him and wriggled into it in search of adventure.
The calmness of the meadow was disturbed ever so slightly when a small blue portal appeared near the ground, accompanied by the sound similar to cloth being torn, and a worm plopped out of it. Leo looked around his surrounding to see where he had ended up this time. Seeing the tall grass, the cool dirt, the clear sky... everything about it felt familiar; like a home he never knew. He could feel that this place was perfect for many other earthworms; he also realised that this made it the perfect hunting ground for animals that would feast upon them.
Such as the bird that had locked onto him just seconds after he arrived. It flew into action with staggering speed intent on consuming Leo whole, top hat or not. Its wings made barely any sound. Most would not hear it at all, but it did not get past Leo's honed senses. He turned towards the hastily approaching predator and with the lightest of movements opened up another portal right between him and the feathered attacker. The bird had no time to react, no time to adjust course, and flew straight in, disappearing. Leo took one last look around the meadow and squirmed into the other side of the portal.
Seconds later, another portal opened up a few meters away and out of it flew a very confused bird that decided it'd be best to ignore the entire affair.
As soon as Leo exited his new portal, he knew something was amiss, different. He felt... weightless, and noticed his top hat started to float away. He coiled his body around it, securing it, and looked around, finding a window with the grandest of views he had ever seen.
It was a void of blackness in the centre of which was a planet of green and blue, clouds covering massive portions of it. He could see how the wind moved these clouds around, how they shifted, merged, split, a ballet of movement that gave a whole new meaning to the weather he was used to. It was a most enjoyable sight - one that was again cut short when he realized he was being watched. He turned his body towards the observer - a man floating in the air, his hair standing above his hand as if he was floating in water. From his open mouth and wide-eyed look, it was more than obvious the man did not expect to see an earthworm. Deciding not to cause any trouble, Leo quietly opened another portal, but having no control over the speed of his movement, the two awkwardly stared at one another as Leo slowly floated towards the small blue circle and finally disappeared.
Following the bird's line of thinking, the man rubbed his eyes and looked again, seeing nothing - certainly not an earthworm. Perhaps he was too tired and mistook a shadow for something else. After all, how could an earthworm be on the ISS? Preposterous.
Leo's latest portal took him to a comfortable apartment in a highrise. Finding himself right next to a window, he looked out and saw something he had never seen before. A city - but not one made out of mushrooms and roots, but metal and glass. The building he found himself in must have been among the tallest as he could see far and wide and admire the different rooftops and streets, the busy traffic and pedestrians making it seem like a gigantic beehive. Though it was not as familiar as the meadow and not as grand as the strange floaty place, it was oddly enchanting to Leo. He spent the most time here, though that was partially because no one interrupted his observations. When he finally had his fill, he decided to open one final portal and squirmed into it.
The destination on the other end was familiar. The top of a hill with an exquisite view of the bioluminescent fungal city he knew so well. Not too from where he landed sat a girl that turned around and noticed his arrival.
"Leo!" she said with a smile. "There you are. Exploring again?"
Leo merely inched towards her without responding - with the two knowing each other so well, the question was clearly rhetorical. She smiled and picked him up, putting him on her shoulder. He coiled up and rested. It was a good day. He saw new places, met new creatures, but in the end...
There's no place like home.
​
​
​
​
This story is about Leo the Earthworm, a recurring character in commissions I do.

Collection
For me, it is still too early. I went to bed at daybreak. I can’t define the man through the peephole of the door. I’m dizzy, and can’t make out the person there, inside a suit and a tie, his face bloated by the lens. It must be something important, because I heard the bell ringing a few times. Once when I was coming to the door and at least three times in my dream. I try focusing my eye, and start to think that I know that face from a confused and distant time. Or maybe I got to the peephole still sleeping and know the face from when it still belonged to the dream. There’s the beard. It may be possible that I had already seen this face without the beard. But the beard is so solid and rigorous that it looks previous to the face. The suit and the tie also bother me. I do not know a lot of people who dress in a suit and tie, let alone with such straight hair down to his shoulder. People in suits and ties who I know, sit behind a desk or a counter. They are not people who come knocking at my door. I try to imagine the man clean shaven and wearing a T-shirt. I try to discount the warping of the peephole, and it is always somebody familiar but very difficult to recognize. And his face like that, frontal and static blurs my judgment even more. It’s not even the face, it is more the identity of the face which differs from the true face the more you know the person. That immobility is his best disguise. At least for me.
I back off cautiously, walking through the apartment as if under water. I will slip back to bed certain that the man will end up capitulating, convinced that there is nobody home. But I don’t even cross the imaginary division between living and bedroom and the bell rings again. Now I can’t sleep with the image of the man fixed at my door. I’m back to the peephole. I must spot a mistake, an impatient gesture, which will denounce him, permitting me to connect the gesture to the person. But for as long as I am there he does not touch the bell, does not look at his phone, does not light a cigarette, does not take his eyes off the peephole. Now it becomes clear to me that he’s been seeing me this whole time. Through the peephole, in reverse. He sees me as a concave man. That’s how he saw me arriving, gluing my eye to the peephole and trying to decipher him. He saw me flee in slow motion, in large movements, he saw me coming back with my face contorted. And see that he sees me. He knows me better than I know him. Because I know only that he is not what he appears to be, a salesman, a solicitor, a secret service agent. But he knows me enough to understand that I would be willing to open my door to a complete stranger, but I would never open the door to somebody who wants to come in.
At this point he is very much aware that it is worthless. That he can’t fool me anymore. That I will not open the door. That I’m capable of dying here in silence. Capable of rotting right here in front of his standing skeleton. So he shakes his head and leaves my field of vision. And it is in this last glimpse that I identify him with full evidence, just to forget him immediately. The only thing I know is that he was somebody who was with me long ago, but who I should never have seen, because he was somebody who one day shook his head and left my field of vision, a long time ago.
My sleepiness is lost. From the window of my fifth floor, I can peek at the sidewalk of my building. The man suddenly appears, stops at the curb, and doesn’t raise his eyes to look at my window, as I would do if I were him. The person who spent so much time in my hallway, he should have taken a peek even if he knew it would be for nothing. He should have looked to see if any light was on, an undefined form behind the glass looking down at him. He should have looked automatically, out of a twitch of hope.
The only reason he would not look, is if he knew he was being watched. He knows that I see him calling an Uber, hop into the front seat, and tell the driver to turn at the first right. I dress myself in a hurry calculating that at this moment he has stopped at the red light of the opposite corner. Calculating that I would be dressing in a hurry he tells the driver to go turn right again, and again and again. He would complete the round around the block predicting that I would be at the elevator with my shirt still unbuttoned. But I button my shirt at the window, watching the Uber take the last turn at the corner.
He should be getting out of the car while I slam my apartment door decisively, the Uber driver telling him to go screw himself because of the stupid ride. He’ll be frustrated for not catching me in the lobby. He’d ask the security guard about me, but now I’m between the third and the fourth floor going downstairs slowly, because of a burnt light bulb. The security guard, listening to the radio, will answer that it is not his business to know the affairs of the residents. I get to the second floor while he takes the elevator after pushing the “open door” bottom more than forty times. Close to the lobby, I cross over the light coming from the street, climbing the stairs through the crack of the fire exit door. At the end of the stairs, I lose my step. I step on the light and cross the lobby stumbling. He is in my hallway. He would not ring the bell this time but destroy my doorknob. I am on the opposite driveway.
I do not need to look back to the fifth floor to know that he stares at me from my window. He would see me picking up the pace and disappear turning on the first left. He will call the elevator, the Uber but will not be able to convince the new driver to chase me down the wrong way. He will try a parallel route, but I will take a tunnel, surface in another neighborhood, and breathe new airs. He will get stuck in traffic while I climb a mountain, the shelves of forests and high invisible mansions from where I can see the whole city.

I used to think success was driving down a beach-front highway having to choose between breathing in the new car smell from your convertible, or putting the top down for some salt air.
1 week ago, I had neither of those choices and today the very thought of beach air and new car smell makes me fucking sick.
Before I get into this, let me be clear: this is not a confession of guilt for anything I’ve done. I never wanted all this shit. From the very start it was only about one thing: Getting my son, James a birthday present.
I wasn’t even trying to get him the BEST or the BIGGEST or the most EXPENSIVE birthday present. Just
A present. The present I set out to get.
But instead...
I went to the 7/11 on Santa Monica and bought a MegaMillions lotto ticket.
My name is Daniel Baxter, and this is the day I thought I won the lottery.
​
April 8, 2022 – 2:03AM
It’s 2 o’clock in the morning and I’m at the Hollywood Casino. I’ve got every penny to my name spread across the craps table and some dickhead on his bachelor party holds the dice of fate in his clammy little hands.
My last 3 meals have been from discarded room service trays at LAX Hilton, my truck doesn’t start without a prayer and the tires have been leaking air for the last month which is fine because now I know the location of every free air filling station in LA County.
If I’d paid my phone bill, it’d be buzzing a crater in my leg from my ex, Lenora, asking if I’d picked up our son’s birthday gift with the $200 she gave me.
“Gave me” isn’t quite the right term. She handed it to me with a scowl then told me “if you gamble this shit you’ll never fucking see him again.” Things had been tense lately.
But none of that matters because this guy’s been hot and it’s with his help that I’ve turned that 200 hundred into almost 3 grand. The only question is; are the rhythms with me or not?
Maybe you call it God. Maybe you call it Karma or the natural vibe of the earth or mercury or whatever. When the rhythms are on, everything goes your way. You crush your yearly review at work and get the raise you’re after or you’re at some party and you’ve got everyone eating outta the palm of your hand.
Most things are math. Craps is math. Poker is math. Phone bills are math. Divorce rates are math and if I keep having to eat off of room service trays, the likelihood of me waking up with diarrhea is math.
It’s all just probability. But when the rhythms are on, the probability doesn’t matter. You could take a 1 and a million shot back-to-back and hit it twice. That’s what the rhythm can do for you.
Summer of 2018 I was up over 2 million. I couldn’t lose a hand of blackjack, I couldn’t crap out if I tried, I couldn’t say the wrong thing to Lenora and every time I walked into the room my son, James, would light up like a fucking lantern.
It used to be me and Lenora at the tables. The place was always open, the food is fine and the drinks are free. If we weren’t at the tables we were in the lounge talking Black Jack strategy or in the bar talking game theory or hanging out at the slots like a couple’a mice pressing a button and waiting for the cheese to pop out.
Sometimes it’s nice to be a mouse. I’ve got rats in my house. They don’t pay rent or go food shopping. All they have to do is avoid eating a piece of death cheese or poison and honestly that’s not too far off from how I live anyways.
When we had James, things changed though. As Lenora put it “risking your son’s dinner isn’t chasing something it’s chasing nothing.” And I guess the 45-minute commute to the Hollywood wasn’t a valuable use of her time. Lots of people commute to work even longer. When I was working at Goldman, I commuted an hour and a half each way from Connecticut. Granted I was on a train but the point is we all commute to work.
It was nice having her here. It was nice seeing James with a smile. It was nice to check my bank account and feel a life raft around me, rather than a black hole forming in my bellybutton.
But the rhythms shifted.
Now it’s just me here next to Lenny with the beard, Jackie with the cigar and Jonie who’s been serving drinks here so long her face should be on the highway billboards. After Lenora broke it off with me she got together with Kelton who works for a hedge fund which (for the record) is still gambling. He’s just doing it with other people’s money.
James’ 9th birthday is three days away. He wants an iPad and soon as I cash out, I’ll be able to pick one up, maybe kick some back to Lenora and spread some cash around to the litany of people I’m on the hook to.
I’m one big night away from wiping it all out. I just need one hit. One night of pure rhythm... and I’ll be back.
The shooter shakes the dice in his hand then tosses ‘em. I watch them clack on the table walls below me, but before they even settle on the pass line, I can already feel the star implode in my stomach.
In a flash, my hard work is raked away by some new guy named Carl with a moustache and not a single ounce of sympathy.
The party’s at Lenora (and Kelton’s) which was fine because honestly, I didn’t just have rats.
The rats came in chasing the cockroaches but when a bunch of them got into my Cadbury Mini Egg stash and died under the living room floor, a pack of fleas picked the carcass clean before making their way into the carpet above. So, yeah...at the moment I have fleas, cockroaches and rats. I had a bug bomb guy coming in a couple days but things were gonna be a little itchy until then.
It's three days until the party. I’ve got no gift and if I show up without that 200 bucks I may never see my kid again.
​
April 8, 2022 – 6:32AM
There’s only so much you can do on a security guard’s salary and being paid $12 an hour to guard millions of dollars in Mercedes automobiles is hilarious. What am I supposed to do if some guy comes in to steal a car? Lay my life on the line and hope my out-of-pocket HMO covers bullet wounds?
I don’t even have dental. I got a root canal that needed to be recapped 10 minutes after it was put in.
I’ve been on Mr. Jenkins about a raise but he keeps telling me “we gotta sell more cars, Davey,” as if I’m the one selling cars. I’m a fucking security guard what the hell’s that gotta do with me? Last I checked it was my job to keep cars on the lot and getting them off was yours.
Jenkins owns every car dealer on Van Nuys. Maybe you’ve seen his ads on TV where he slides into frame wearing a suit while riding a surfboard just to say “COME ON DOWN!” He can afford to buy a surfboard for tv ad that has no mention of surfing or aquatic sports of any kind but he can’t pay me an extra $3 an hour so I can re-introduce cold foods to my diet.
I spend most of my shift eyeing the mint green on onyx black SLS convertible they keep in the lobby. It’s flashy but it’s got a nut sack under the hood so you know you could back it up if you went toe-to-toe with some clown at a red light. Sometimes I just stare at it but I never touch it. I only wanna touch it when it’s mine. Which it would be...
Maybe I could steal it and sell it to get the iPad and some other shit. I know all the codes but then again I wouldn’t need the whole car. The thing costs half a mill. Maybe I could lift a rear-view mirror. Who would notice? Then again with the way the rhythm’s set I’d probably bump into the fucking FBI on the way out.
I’ve been doing my best to get things together but the cards aren’t falling my way and there’s not much you can really do about that. I’ve been going to the Hollywood for 15 years so I know I’m due for a run.
Me and Lenny talking about this all the time at the lounge. Sometimes you’re on the downbeat and sometimes you’re on the upbeat. Lately I feel like it’s been all downs but the thing about being a father though, is that you’re not the only one on that ride.
It used to be that I could take a few down weeks or months even. Sleep in the car, call the landlord and talk them out of breaking down the door but when you got a kid everything changes. You suffer, he suffers. Lately Lenora’s been paying for that but you see she keeps a tally. She says she doesn’t but she does.
Every time she has to pay for something she looks at me like I’m the biggest piece of shit then says “It’s ok, David.” Which it really isn’t.
The fees and stuff aren’t the real problem. It’s being able to take James out and take care of him. She wants to take that away from me and honestly I don’t blame her.
Last week my card got declined trying to pay for ice cream. James had already eaten half of his and the lady made us give it back. He didn’t talk to me the whole way home then 2 days later Lenora told me James didn’t really like spending time with me anymore. A week after that she filed for sole custody and told me they were thinking about moving to Chicago. Who the fuck would want to live there? It’s cold as fuck and the people are assholes.
​
April 8, 2022 – 12:20PM
I do pickups for a porta-john company on the side. It’s just temporary. I don’t clean the shit I just spray down the units and suck out cans and shit with a wet-vac before this guy named Pete sticks a hose in the back and drains the whole thing out.
I’m always surprised by what people put on the walls of a john. Usually it’s just drawings like hearts and shit but sometimes the rhythm finds you there too. One time I spotted a phone number Sharpied on a toilet seat but it was missing 1 number. 8 digits. Kinda like 4 roulette numbers right?
I took em to the Hollywood and won 5 grand on one roll! Hasn’t worked again for me yet... but that’s the thing about it man.
But today I’m cleaning out a row of johns after some music festival which by the way is far and away the worst clean ups to get. Sure you see these kids all cleaned up online in some tweed outfit or some shit but you should see the shit that comes out of these kids. It’s like paving tar with glitter and red bull cans.
I look down in the last john I’m hosing down and I see something. Peaking out of the mounds I see: a $20 bill.
I stared at it for a second but I could hear Pete coming down the line about to suck it into oblivion. I never seen cash in the john before. Sometimes you hear a coin clank through the hose but a 20 bill just staring you right in the face?
I did what any man would do. I grabbed it and when I pulled my hand out I was half expecting it to be missing a layer of skin.
Later I’m sitting in the truck staring at this 20 bucks thinking “why would this come to me?” There had to be a reason. It wasn’t just on the floor of some john. It was in the last john after the nastiest event at a time when all I needed was one shot.
It was the rhythm.
But having to do that for just $20 didn’t add up. There had to have been a greater purpose and you know what they say about money. You don’t let it sleep. You wanna get that money out and get it working.
Craps kicked my teeth in this morning and you can’t do shit with 20 bucks on a blackjack table. I had to think bigger.
Then I’m driving home from work and I see the 7/11. Powerball was at 2.11 BILLION. The biggest in history. If you got all 6 numbers right you got the whole chicken. If you got 5 you got just shy of 8 million bucks. Boom.
I had my usual numbers but this wasn’t a usual day. I told the cashier to give me “all randoms today.” 10 slips at $2 each.
That night I sat down on my couch waiting for the Powerball to come on tv... then I blacked out.
The next thing I knew I was staring at 6 numbers lit up on my tv screen: 08, 07, 14, 29, 40, 16
And on my slip: 08, 07, 14, 29, 40, 22
I had 5 out of 6 numbers. I’d just won 8 million dollars
​
April 9, 2022 – 9:01AM
I’m standing in line at the California Lottery Offices. It’s not some huge expansive place. It’s a shitty little line up of people with various ailments trying to dispute their $5 winning ticket.
My mind is racing. Who do I pay back first? Do they give me the cash here? Is it in a duffel bag? When do I have to hold that big ass check? Do I wear a mask? I saw a guy do it in a scream mask once to maintain his anonymity. Honestly it might be nice to be seen. Not only has everyone seen me as a piece of shit forever but also I haven’t exactly kept a detailed list of everyone I owe money to.
It’d be good for people to just hit me up, I can cut a check and tell them “thanks for your patience.” Maybe I’d even give them a little off the top as a tip.
The guy a the counter basically spat in my face; “It’s gotta be reviewed. Takes 2-5 days. We’ll email you a link to collect any winnings.” It was like I just accused him of something. No congratulations or anything which at first, I was pissed about but then I realized that clearly I wasn’t the first asshole who thought they won the lottery.
Except I really did. 2-5 days was nothing. I’d been living in the shit for years I could do another few days.
Stepping outside, everything looked the same. The air wasn’t purer or the sunlight any more sunlightier and I still had to fill up my tires at the Shell on Cahuenga. There’s something about being rich without actually having any appearance of being rich.
That secret alone is like having a bomb in your pocket. People treat you regular, they smile and make conversation but deep down you think...if I pulled this out I could kill you with it.
But when people do think you have money, the more of it they give you.
I rolled in the doors of the Hollywood like I always did. Lenny called me a bullshitter, Jackie barely even put her cigarette down and Jonie didn’t even bring me a drink because I didn’t actually have any money on the table. I didn’t even have money in my pocket. I’d spent it all on the Megamillions and I hadn’t eaten since perusing the halls for leftover room service the night before.
Then news hit. My face was on every TV in the place. “Local man wins 8 million dollar jackpot.”
I checked my phone to see if it was blowing up, then remembered I still hadn’t paid the bill in months. So I was good there.
​
April 9, 2022 – 11:11AM
If you’ve ever been on a casino floor you know that it’s never silent. But I swear to God if you were on the floor when that news hit, you could’ve heard the rats eating my Mini Eggs 20 miles away. Everyone’s eyes were trained on me. For a second I even felt all the security cams shift over in my direction.
I couldn’t stand being on the floor with nothing to play with so Lenny set me up with his guy who got me a little walking around money. Japanese guy who I met in a Burger King across the street. Weird dude. Not sure what his name was.
I didn’t wanna go too nuts so I just took out a small loan. 50k at 20 points. I thought about it for a second then realized I didn’t really give a shit about the interest. 10 grand to me in a week doesn’t mean nearly as much as 50 does now. It’s just value proposition. It would have been stupid NOT to take out the loan honestly.
Walking into the casino with 50 grand in my pocket and slamming it down on the table feels a lot like taking out your dick at an orgy only when your dick comes out it’s a 60 foot cigarette boat with flames painted on the side.
But then I learned what I remembered years ago. Losing money and gaining money at that point meant almost nothing.
So losing 2 grand a hand wasn’t such a big deal because I could be making 5 on the next. That’s why I needed a little more when I lost the full 50.
Another 100k or so at another 20 points should do the trick.
It didn’t take long to realize that both winning and losing money meant almost nothing to me. So I ventured out.
A tailored suit for me (ready in 2-3 days on a rush).
An iPad for James with all the bells and whistles.
6 dozen roses sent to Lenora’s house signed “your secret admirer.” just to fuck with Kelton.
A watch for me, Lenny and Jodie.
Some special cigar Jackie had always been eyeing.
New pairs of Nikes for all of us.
And a limousine to my dentist’s office.
I paid in cash for the cap replacement, they gave me some pills and told me not to mix them with alcohol but honestly I was a little distracted by the old molar cap sitting on the table. I had an idea.
“Are you gonna just throw that away?” I asked her.
By now I realized I didn’t have a phone to receive my winnings via email. So, I stopped a guy in the lobby and paid him 2 grand cash for his before popping a few pills and slugging some champagne in the limo.
There was barely enough time to sit back and relax. I had a lifetime of debt and yearning for shit to burn through.
We made it to the Mercedes dealership but the pain killers kicked in and I could barely feel my hands as they ran across the SLS’s mint green paint. Bummer.
Jenkins sauntered over asking if I was working today and all I remember saying was “I want it.” He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, so I put the remaining cash I had down on the table and said it again. “I WANT IT.”
They ran my credit (which was dog shit. Didn’t matter) and I looked Jenkins in his fat little face again and said “I don’t give a fuck.” He sold it to me, financed at 25 percent interest. Then when he went to fetch my paperwork and keys I took a shit on his desk, shoved the molar cap and a $20 bill in it before using his jacket to wipe my ass. Felt right. Don’t really know why.
I had walked into the CA lottery offices at 9am to start the review process on my ticket’s authenticity.
By 11am, I was watching news break from the Hollywood Casino.
By 10pm I had accrued more debt than a small country.
I hadn’t received a dime from the lotto.
And I needed more walking around money.
​
April 10, 11, 12 – who the fuck knows what time
The next few days were a blur but there are a few things I’ll never forget.
Quitting my job.
Hiring the limo for the week.
Trying to shit after 3 days of having nothing but fast food, champagne and pain killers.
Fielding questions at the party from Kelton’s asshole friends who told me “lotto rich isn’t real rich.”
And the heat of my house burning to the ground as James and I stood there watching with a can of gas in our hands.
He didn’t even want the iPad.
The rhythms were sliding back. James had that smile plastered back in his face and even Lenora was happy to see me.
​
April 16, 7:35AM
“Dear Mr. Baxter. Congratulations! You’ve successfully matched FOUR of six winning numbers. Below please find a link to collect your winnings of $10,000.”
I read it over and over again. Over and over and over.
When I called the offices an nice woman on the phone informed me that due to a printing malfunction the ticket had appeared to show the number 8 when in fact it was a 6.
They even managed to maintain a sense of excitement. I mean why wouldn’t they? They think I just won $10,000. They had no idea I’d bought a car I couldn’t afford, burned my house down, taken a shit on my boss’ desk, maxed out 3 new credit cards and borrowed a inordinate amount of money from people at a borderline illegal interest rate.
The limo company took my ride away and with no home I’ve spent the last 2 days parked on the Pacific Coast Highway, sleeping in the brand new Mercedes I can’t afford, in a suit I shouldn’t have bought, showering in the YMCA down the street, and eating 2-day-old coconut shrimp.
All of a sudden I’m fucked again. But as I stare out at the Pacific, my phone dings. It’s an alert from the Chase banking app. My lotto winnings of $10,000 have just hit my account and the only question is...
Are the rhythms with me or not?

My car was badly damaged while parked on the street last October. It looked like it was backed into as the back tire area was messed up a lot including a popped tire and bent rim, but also the driver mirror was cracked on the edge and still attached.
Couldn't get any camera footage of the incident but I took pictures of the damage and angles of the neighbors house in regards to it. Briefly checked vehicles for dents but didn't see anything.
Well my car was hit again and my neighbors informed me in regards to the last incident, the neighbors truck has a dent in it in case I didn't know. Sure enough there's a slight dent in the back left corner. My dad measured the height, and it matched. (I likely missed this as I noticed in the picture tonight, their truck was backed into their driveway the next day, probably their intention).
We made a police report, but never made an insurance claim due to not having coverage for uninsured drivers (aka hit and runs). These neighbors also threatened to tow my car for parking in front of their house before this as well, so it would be nice to get justice.
What options might I have to pursue this since it happened in October?

So... here's what I'm getting out the 'important blurb' from the 10K....
ITEM 5. MARKET FOR REGISTRANT'S COMMON EQUITY, RELATED STOCKHOLDER MATTERS AND ISSUER PURCHASES OF EQUITY SECURITIES
Our Class A Common Stock is traded on the New York Stock Exchange (“NYSE”) under the symbol “GME”. As of March 22, 2023, there were 197,058 record holders of our Class A Common Stock. Excluding the approximately 228.7 million shares of our Class A Common Stock held by Cede & Co on behalf of the Depository Trust & Clearing Corporation (or approximately 75% of our outstanding shares), approximately 76.0 million shares of our Class A Common Stock were held by record holders as of March 22, 2023 (or approximately 25% of our outstanding shares).
(now, the reason for the March 22 date could be just to adjust our numbers according to our DRS estimates - what were they on Jan 31? Jonpro3 and Roid Rage Smurf would know.
First off, the date is wrong. The closing date for the quarter is Jan 31 for GME. WHY and this is a very curious why, did they decide to post numbers from Mar 22, 2023? (Sure, it was earnings day, but WHY? Why not Jan 31? Did we have 76M back then? (versus the 86M we now estimate at?)
Need jonpro and roid_rage_smurf to clear something up.... What were the bot and scraper values back on Jan 31 when the quarter closed.
Next, let's do some simple addition: 228.7 + 76 = 304.7 <-- That's the beginning of a problem. That's more than the float by a tiny bit.
The next thing that is 'interesting'..... There are 228.7M shares at Cede and company on Mar 22, 2023... (Again, the date... WHY?)
And there's a 197,058 holders of record.... That's DRS... ONLY... This does not include beneficial holders or shares in street name at a broker... That comes out to 385 shares each to produce 76M shares. Both DRSBot and Scraper are over a trimmed average of 400 shares... so.... let's take that as a 'low base of 400'. That puts us at 78,823,200
Could someone with a wrinkle explain this part to me.... where do the insiders fit into all this?
There's 54M shares with the insiders. Are they classified as registered holders or not? I doubt they are 'beneficial'. This number needs to figure what side of the fence the 54M are n on.... registered holders or in brokers as beneficial.
So, looking at this on the low-end....
76M at DRS and 228.7 at CEDE = 304.7 is higher than the float at 304.58. The float is locked potentially. Also, like so many hints that we've seen, this is a nudge to that end. (This is if the 197058 holders have only 387.7 shares each)
Now, the higher-end....
197058 DRS holders that have a low end of the trimmed average at 400 shares each. That would be 78.823M. Add this to the 228.7 at Cede....it puts at 307.5M (3M over the float)
Last if we look really high at our estimates: we go for the average of the trimmed average between bot and scraper its 419. It puts us at 82.57M + 228.7M = 311.27M
Now, if someone can tells me where the Insiders Fall and their 54M shares. (are they already counted in this or not)
This is crazy as at the lowest possible value, we've hit the float level. From here on out, EVERY DRS'd share will make a difference and be pushing this forward.
LET'S GOOOO!!!!!!

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