Wife and I went and test drove a 2019 VW Atlas and a 2019 Explorer today. We loved the Atlas, by far the better looking, more ergonomic vehicle between the two. My wife is attracted to two opposing features, ergonomics of the second and third row, and NOT having a minivan…
The best feature of the Atlas is the captain’s chair second row and how easy it is to move the seat to enter the 3rd row whilst two car seats are installed in the second row. VW nailed that feature.
After doing more research, I am seeing a lot of less-than reviews and possible issues around reliability for the Atlas in particular the ‘18-20 range.
That said, I am having a hard time finding anything comparable to the features the Atlas offers in our price range. Namely, that awesome second row. This SUV is replacing our 2012 Q5 which has been a great car, until it hit the 100,000 mile mark, and now every dash light is on, oil leaking constantly (has for years, despite many trips to dealer and shops), serpentine belt left wife on side of the road last week, all 8 control arms are being recommended for replacement ($5k), and we can barley fit a center seated passenger with our two new babies on board.
We really like the Atlas, but are making the effort to find something comparable with that second row bucket seat layout, that isn’t a minivan (I’ve tried, she wont go for it).
I see Tellurides & Palisades being recommended. They are very popular where we are (Orange County) and fetch a price just outside our range from what I can find. We are trying to stay sub-30, but would step slightly outside that for something we really love.
Opinions on the Kia Sorento EX?
Thanks all.

There are TWO new Vision Board Comedy Shows THIS WEEK & both have some of the best comedians around (COLBERT, LAST COMIC STANDING, FOX, MTV, etc.). The First show is THIS THURS 3/30 at 8:3 PM at Pine Box Rock Shop in Williamsburg and the second show THIS SAT 4/1 at 8:30 PM at Cobra Club in Bushwick!
In both shows we'll be talking about UFOs and Aliens and as usual we'll have experienced psychics answering audience members' questions. Come for the laughs, stay for the paranormal thoughts, mini psychic readings and spirituality (in a fun way)!
Vision Board is a Standup Comedy Show that explores spirituality and psychic insight with its audience in a fun and surprising way. We also have a couple of comedians who are professional psychics, who will answer audience's questions at the end of the show.
So it's mostly a comedy show & with some mini psychic readings thrown in. Come for the laughs, stay for the woo. For this particular show we'll be discussing Aliens & UFOs. You don't want to miss this enlightening, paranormal and hilarious time!!
** Tickets are donation based but buying tickets(for any price you choose) in advance with a donation guarantees you seats and psychic readings. You can reserve tix at the link included! If you make a donation and want a psychic question answered you can send us your question in advance and we'll answer it during the show.
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The line up of comedians for 3/30 are:

Host: Luz Michelle - Hard Headed Comedy
Jessica Rotondi - Oxygen & A&E
Winn LaRue - Don’t Tell Mama’s
Matt Vita - CBS
Jordon Ferber - Last Comic Standing
Tracey McClendon - MTV
Dara Jemmott - BET
Meghan Hanley - Fox’s Laughs & Gotham Comedy Live
Carmen Lagala - The Late Show With Stephen Colbert

I think the most difficult thing about finding a penpal is finding someone that can keep a conversation going without things getting boring, and finding someone that matches your writing cadence and length. I'm looking for someone that can email back and forth every 1-3 days, when life doesn't get in the way. I also want someone that wants to open up to someone else in an honest and candid way, i mean what else are anonymous internet friends good for right!
I can only handle 1-2 penpals, so if the post is up then i'm still looking :) If you think we vibe so far, feel free to read more about me! If not, no problem and good luck finding someone on this sub.
More about me:

• Photography - I started out with taking pictures on vacation traveling around but progressed to getting into weddings and now i shoot 12-15 weddings a year on top of my regular day job.
  
• Hiking - favorite parks i've been to in no particular order is Zion, Arches, Yellowstone, Olympic, and Redwoods. Wasn't a fan of Yosemite, it was soo crowded when i went. I have a bucket list of visiting all 50+ national parks sometime before i kick the bucket.
  
• Rom coms - I am a sucker for rom coms, i just love all the feels. My favorite ones are the ones with the gut wrenching scenes where the main character gets crushed and they play some appropriately sad music. Think the scene in 500 days of summer when Tom is sitting on the bench with summer, or in Love actually when kiera knightley finds out the best friend is into her and he runs away and Enya starts playing. Like omfg take those feels.
  
• Self improvement - i'm always reading about life hacks, atomic habits, listening to podcast and youtube videos and always thinking about way to improve my sleep, or my health, or my work etc. If this sounds like you...we can be good friends! Maybe accountability partners.
  
• Likes: iced coffee, sports, staying in shape, photography, self improvement, podcasts, nerdy sci-fi stuff like lord of the rings, game of thrones, star wars, anything with Ana de Armas in it
  
• Dislikes: hot drinks, alcohol, smoking, bad drivers, politics, late people, country music, reality TV shows
  

I find that ending messages with a few questions for the other person makes it easier to start off replies. If you're interested:
1) What's a warning label that you should come with? (could be funny, serious, playful)

Personally I think the entire DoppleMarble fade market rise is a bubble and is gonna pop soon, other than the rare sapphires and emeralds etc. The only way I see someone profiting off of the release of Source 2 is discontinued skins or the really rare phases. I just wanted to make this post so that anyone looking to profit or is a pretty big trader doesn't loose money because of source 2, the supply for dopplers will be the probably be more after the release and people will continue to open cases after the new operation, I just don't see the demand that high.
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Instead invest in Hot Rods or Blue Phosphor, or any operation skins and that have slightly raised in price. You could even go a step further and try investing in some playskins like the Wildfire AWP or even buy pre Trade up skins.
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If your siting on a shit ton of capsules like I am let me know if you think it's more worth it to open them instead of holding on to them.

I've written this trip report 3 times now and keep losing the draft. It's gonna get long, so please forgive me. The actual action will be a few paragraphs down. Little background, I'm non-Japanese Asian American and don't speak any Japanese. Was on a solo trip to Japan, so I figured I'd check out the scene, although my pre-trip research was pretty lacking. Japan's hobby scene is a bit anti-thetical to this sub, but I thought I'd share in the interest of science. If nothing else, you can avoid being a bumbling idiot like me.
I think most people know what Soaplands are, but basically a spa with benefits. They are very common around Japan, but many are not accessible to foreigners. Those that do take foreigners tend to charge a "foreigner tax", which is very high fees. There is a message board Tokyo Adult Guide with some helpful tips, but I'm pretty sure all of those people speak some Japanese. The no foreigners thing is not necessarily a racist thing. They just don't want to get in a situation where inability to communicate might be dangerous for the girls (some management is just too lazy to deal with speaking a foreign language).
From my limited research, I settled on Hisyo in the north of Tokyo (about 1.5km walk from Asakusa). It's located in a district with a bunch of soaplands back to back. Their schtick is that the girls all dress like secretaries. And not like American Halloween slutty secretary. Like actual Japanese company secretary uniform. It's not why I picked them but it didn't hurt either. I had looked up online their lineup for the day and settled on Sora. Didn't know at the time, but she's a mixed Japanese former AV star. So I landed at Haneda about 5am. I had my luggage shipped to my hotel, so I didn't bother stopping by there and just walked around Tokyo all day. After a couple of meals that I had to either wait or put my name down, I finally headed to Hisyo about 8pm (I had intended to go at 12pm, then 3pm, etc... but got caught up doing touristy shit or waiting for my next meal). There was a tout out on the street side, but you shouldn't go with those guys. Found the door to the soapland, asked the tencho (kind of the manager) if English would be OK. He said yes, but Sora was Japanese only (not true, but I wasn't gonna argue). I'm not sure if I had spoken Chinese if she would have been made available. Also, I was dressed like a bum. Jogger pants, Jordans, and sweatshirt under my nice overcoat. I was dressed for the plane and the cold. All my clothes were pretty expensive, but athleisure is still athleisure. Not sure if that affected anything but it's a possibility. It's not that you need to dress up, but not looking like a foreign bum helps. Fee was quoted 75K yen for 2 hours which is about double the price that locals pay. I was kind of prepared and had the budget so I agreed. This is where some weirdness started
I took my shoes off at the entrance, was put in a waiting room and given a hot towel and iced tea (standard practice). Waited about 10 minutes and the tencho came back with 5 cards for me to pick the girls from. I went with a girl named Luna. Pretty, skinny girl, in her early 20's. Tencho said ok, took my money, and left me to wait about 10 minutes. He came back and said we're going to meet her at a different location and walked me about 4 buildings down. Again took my shoes off, put in the waiting room, given a hot towel and tea, and wait for about 15 minutes until he came back again and said another location and took me 2 buildings back toward where we started (remember I said there are a lot of soaplands in that neighborhood). At this point, I'm starting to wonder if I got scammed, was going to be killed, or what. Another 5 minutes, and he said another place again, and we walk to the next building again (this one doesn't make me take off my shoes at the entrance). Then I'm in the waiting room for about 20 minutes. He comes back, I'm ready to move to a new location but they said Luna's ready for me!!!
I'm shown to a 2 person elevator where this cute girl (sure enough dressed as a secretary) bowed to me and beckoned me to enter. She greeted me with limited English but enough to get the job done. We went up to the room, took our shoes off at the entrance and enter. The room is like a small hotel room with a large bed and a closet and tables. It steps down into an open bathroom that's a bit bigger than the hotel room side itself. Those that watch Japanese AV will know what I'm talking about, It was quite a large bedroom.
Now, this is where I believe Japan sets itself apart from other countries as far as service. Luna was professional, but not mechanical about everything. This would be a running theme in my few times I saw providers while there. She called down my drink order then helped me undress. After I was relieved of my clothing, I helped her out of hers, and we stepped over to the bathroom side. I was shown into the tub while she prepared the open shower. Remember this is called soapland. We traded some small talk while she prepared a little wash bucket of soap suds. Gave me a toothbrush, toothpaste, and rinse. So you brush in tub and can spit it outside because that's all shower drain area. Took a few minutes to prepare but then she had me exit the tub and join her by the shower with a stool. She rinsed me while standing, then had me sit on a plastic stool but not like the ones typically seen in JAV. This one was shaped like an M that wasn't connected in the middle. She spread the suds onto one body area at a time (one arm, leg, etc...) and used her tits, ass, kitty to rub it all in. Needless to say, I'm pretty turned on by all this. I'm rinsed off while sitting on the stool, and then she proceeds to lick me from face to toe, including bbbj. At one point, she slid her whole body under my seat and rimmed me a bit. Not usually my thing, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I stood up for more bbbj before being shown back into the tub. She takes a while to first wash all the soap from the shower area floor, rinse out the towels that I had been sitting on (to keep from sliding on the plastic stool) and prepared the next item on the agenda.
2nd half was nuru time. She had prepared the warm nuru gel, placed the air mattress where we had previously been sitting, all while I was sipping some iced tea in the tub. When she placed the mattress down, she used the wet towels to cover the head and foot rest area so we could control our sliding. These girls are trained well and execute their jobs even better. Anyway, we started with me face down while she spread the nuru gel all around by rubbing her gel covered body all over me again. The massage was better than 90% of AMP here, but the best part is when she could squirm under me and grind my dick with her body. The flip was a surprise. I'm 6' and 200lbs and she was maybe 5'3" and 100ish. Her flip move was to lie on one side of me, stick her arm under me, grab my opposite hand, then pull and I'm on my back. It probably wasn't as cool as it felt but in the moment I was surprised. Now that I was on my back, she continued the sliding. If she wasn't pretty flat it probably would have been even better but that's nitpicking. she still slid under me a bit, licked my nipples a lot (they really like doing that, although I'm not super into it), and then bbbj. She then asked if I was ready for the cover. While I would prefer not to use one because I believe Japanese providers are magically disease free (/s), of course I agree. She rode me CG for a long time, but I couldn't finish. It got to a point where she was checking the clock and indicating she was worried we'd run out of time. So we took off the cover, went back to bbbj and hj, and I was finally blew a big load for her. She was really relieved that it happened (I believe she would have been more embarrassed than I would have been if I didn't). She showered the gel off me, sent me to the tub while she cleaned up the mattress and shower area, then joined me in the tub to clean off as well. I had fun washing the gel off her in the tub. Time was running out, so we dried off and she helped me get dressed.
Some little details to note. When she undressed me, she took time to hang up each article of clothing. Socks and underwear were folded inside of individual towels. -This was not gfe, but I think that varies by girl. -According to message boards, the price I paid could’ve bought me a ticket to Thailand, hotel for a night, and 2 trips to Thai soaplands. Not sure if it's the same type and level of service. So make of that what you will. -They made me wait in the waiting room after for about another 10 minutes for tencho to come take me outside. Once outside, he said that I'd have to walk back (I was planning to anyway) and left. I walked away wondering wtf I had just waited 10 minutes for that.

UPGRATED VERSION – Dual steamer and Iron. Produces a powerful and consistent steam. 2 in 1 for Flat hot and Hanging hot. Safer structure design to minimize leaking water. More sufficiently, and bursts strong hot steam swiftly, without water sputtering.
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QUICK & POWERFUL – Ceramic soleplate, heating up just 50s, prevents clothes from damaged. Powerful and stable steam to remove heavy wrinkle, odors and degerming.The steam is continuous and powerful, which can penetrate the clothes deeply and quickly.
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BEST EXPERIENCE – We also provide 100 ML Measuring Cup. Perfect for travel and home use.

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Directly hanging your clothes on the hanger, putting them flat on ironing board or even on the table. (you need to add the water in the tank(100ML) not more than the max line or it will leak or spoil when you ironing).
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Finally, just add water and turn on, waiting for 50 sec, you can start ironing your clothes.
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I’m having a rough night. My sister and her spouse just came to town and it was this 5-10 minute visit where we talked about… nothing, really.
It’s fine but it’s strange, like they’re giving me some kind of 3rd degree. From their perspective, I’m abusing our parents.
I’ve asked so many different people - therapist, my in-laws, my spouse, my best friend - they said no. I’m not the abuser, here, they’ve seen me AND my sister be abused. And we’ve got another estranged sibling, who has cited our parents as manipulative.
I’m hanging onto my reality by a thread but them being here, having it be such a short, icy visit, idk. It felt like a punishment?
They want me to listen to their perspective on the family dynamic - but they won’t listen to mine. They made time to listen but they didn’t actually do it. For reference, I have a Covert NMom and she’s great at playing the victim. The entire call was them playing devils advocate and not actually hearing me out. I don’t really want more of that.
I wish we had our relationship back but I’m confused at this path they’ve taken, how different it is from mine, how it specifically labels me and leaves me behind.
It’s so strange having your sister her spouse be so hostile and distant when you try to come out to them about the abuse. Like, did you two not just experience this yourselves not a year or two ago? Were we not seated around the same table when mom was launching into judgment and inappropriate personal questions?
Do they really not know? Do they not see it? I’m so confused.

First Previous Next
“The gorgeous pageant has passed — the roar of battle has ceased — the multitude has sunk in the dust — the empire is extinct."
– Thomas Cole
Catalogue Description: Diary of Princess Elita sif Panya of the Lamfu Protectorate, Log 4 - English Translation
Date: 0-Pacpuf-436 (Panyan Royal Calendar) November 20th, 2162 (Gregorian Calendar)
Held by: The UK National Archives, Kew
Legal status: Public Record(s)
Apparently, there were thousands of frozen primate embryos aboard Erebus 2.
The disease, famine, and conquest which the Senghavi had inflicted upon the Terran civilization—whether intentional or not—had been devastating. Their “United Nations” had worried that humanity might fall below a minimum viable population. In equipping Erebus 2 with frozen embryos and Senghavi habitat fabrication technology, they had hoped to restart their civilization away from the prying eyes of the Crown.
It was true that, like the carnivores, the Senghavi were a species for whom the Gods had modelled an exponentially-increasing evolution of resources and energy. But even they would have trouble spotting a single, cloaked spacecraft amid the infinitude of space. Erebus 2 was meant to deliver humanity out of the darkness by ferrying its frozen offspring into the vast black of the cosmos—hence the mission name, an ancient Terran deity which personified darkness itself.
“This ‘Wormhole Empire Theory’ is… consistent with the theories of the secularists and sapientists within our scientific community,” my father replied. “You would call us an ‘Isolate,’ and the carnivores, an ‘Empire.’ I assume you did not want to… offend our religious sensibilities, so publicly over the video feed.”
“Well, you people seem to really like ‘the order of nature.’ But the moment that a species becomes advanced enough to punch through the fabric of space-time, then seize resources and planets at an exponential rate, seems a lot more like an unstable ‘equilibrium’ than a natural, stable one. I’m not sure if it’s compatible with what you… think of your Gods.”
“Do you have an understanding of how these wormholes are created?” my father asked. “You went through one to get here. Did you create it with stolen technology, or did you use one that had already been made?”
“The latter, Your Majesty. We believe a species becomes an Empire when it is able to use quantum entanglement and negative energy to puncture vast distances of space with wormholes. That sort of thing is… far beyond the capabilities of mankind, even before we were colonised.
“The physical details behind it aren’t really my area of study. I can tell you it involves fields of negative energy density, and I think they somehow use threads of quantum information stretched between quarks and antiquarks. There’s something in there about an electric field and a fourth dimension… You’ll have to ask Doctor Kuznetsov when we all meet up at the Red Citadel. He’s one of the most brilliant physicists our species has to offer.”
The semi-arid plains seemed to flow like a river as our police-escorted motorcade sped along the expressway. Electric aircraft crawled lazily through the opaque atmosphere, while colossal harvesters extracted aluminium and gallium-rich minerals near the Denfalli surface. Apparently, relative to Denfall, Earth had a less-dense planetary crust and a more heterogeneous distribution of metals. In order to access their own resources, the native Terrans had needed to resort to bombs and drills, forcing deep pits and shafts into their planet.
That was, if one believed that they had once had a complex society at all, as I did.
“Half of our thirty-one year journey was spent verifying the existence of, and searching for, a wormhole we theorised was orbiting Neptune—the eighth planet from our sun. We’d detected its gravitational effects and its distortion of light, and we thought that an error in the Senghavi’s cloaking technology must have exposed the structure’s throat. We had no idea where it led, but… we went through anyway. Thought had to be life on the other side. Maybe someone that could help us.”
The realisation hit me like a sudden noise, making me jump in my seat, and my heart flared in my chest. “You found a real-life wormhole in your solar system, and you went through without any idea of what was on the other side? That must have been terrifying! You could have ended up… in another galaxy, or at the edge of the universe, or something!”
Through his visor, I could see Doctor Moore’s face become sorrowful. Doctor Usman had the best grasp of Circpi, being the crew’s linguistic expert, but the other primates’ clumsier, more thickly-accented hold on our language was more interesting to listen to.
“That was not the hardest part,” said the dark-skinned biologist. “We were desperate. What made us more afraid... it was the situation of our species; the extinction of our culture and our sovereignty. And the distance away from our families... of my daughter. I want her to live in a better world, but it's not... easy, to be so far from my daughter, on a planet thousands of light-years away from Earth. It's not easy, being far away in space, when my daughter lives without her father for thirty-one years.
“When... We hear your conversations for the first time... Your communication that you have by neutrinos ... It was a sensation, an emotion, like no other. Finally, we had found extraterrestrial life! If I have to, I would travel a hundred times, again, through mysterious tunnels in space, just for this discovery. You are the greatest scientific discovery in the entire history of mankind.”
“Thirty-one years!” I exclaimed. “How long is your lifespan in the first place?”
“Most humans live to about seventy-two years on average,” Doctor Usman replied, suddenly seeming just as sullen as Doctor Moore. “Most of us left Earth in our early thirties. We’re over sixty now. Before our comms system failed, I kept in touch with the love of my life. Watched him age, as I did. My last message from him… I hold it close to my heart.”
The sheer isolation and loneliness of the Erebus 2 mission was difficult to wrap my mind around. Doctor Moore’s small, binocular eyes were moist and red. It seemed that crying was an emotional response in the primates, just like us!
I huddled next to Doctor Moore, putting my plastic-bound paw on his glove. I didn’t know what else I should do to comfort an extraterrestrial, so I resorted to physical affection, as is the habit of us Lamfu. To my surprise, the primate rubbed me behind the ears. Despite the barrier of polypropylene against synthetic fibres, his firm touch sent a tingly sensation down my skull and spine, and I leaned into it.
Through natural selection, us Lamfu evolved tall, sensitive ears to detect predators lurking in the wilderness, so that we might be more likely to survive and pass on our genes. Thus, we had a lot of nerve endings in those regions. Perhaps human fingers could stimulate them in a way our paws could not? It was all the more reason to sway our desperate extraterrestrial friends away from the far more impressive Imperium!
“We’d never be able to take on such a task,” the King said solemnly. “I can’t imagine many would. The carnivores and mantids must not be entirely right about you. We thought that, due to being palaeolithic hunter-gatherers, your species would have been barbaric and violent. But your lack of technology and connection with your primal nature has clearly made you more humble and honourable than us supposedly ‘civilised’ folk! You are, in a sense, noble savages!”
I knew he meant it as a complement, but it only seemed to anger Doctor Usman.
“We’re not… nevermind!” she snapped, blinking tears from her eyes. “We’ll talk about that part later. Now, the Senghavi have been mentioning this ‘Imperium of Orion’ since their boots first touched Terran soil. We theorised that this civilisation was another instance of an Empire—one potentially competing with the Senghavi. They take tribute from your planet, an Isolate, without sharing any of their science or technology with you.
“When we heard about the Prey-for-Protection system, we thought it was cruel… but your species doesn’t seem to have a problem with it, and we figured we couldn’t assume that human morality applied to extraterrestrials. Do you think the carnivores could help us?”
My father froze. Even our driver looked uncomfortable.
“N-No, no. It’s best to avoid them. Well—they help us, yes. They are vessels of the Gods. But… Well, you do not fit nicely into the faith of Krucuv Mishan. You violate the order of nature merely by attempting to resist being civilised by the Senghavi. Orion is no more likely to aid you than Parimth.”
I almost wanted to say “you are much safer with us,” but I stopped myself. If the primates caught onto our selfishness, they might forsake us. We all feared they would, in the unlikely but nerve-wracking event that, come the day of tribute, the Imperium would want these newcomers to join their interstellar empire.
“The way that Empires brainwash Isolates,” Doctor Usman sighed, shaking her head. “It’s disgusting. You’re probably half-right, Your Majesty. I bet the Imperium wouldn’t want anything to do with a puny Isolate like humankind—and we are under the control of their rival, anyway. But you’re wrong if you think resisting an imperialist is against the ‘order of nature.’ You’re letting your own inferiority complex cloud your view of us. Don’t tell anyone I said this…. but the Imperium of Orion and the Parimthian Empire can go fuck themselves.”
Such vulgarity in the presence of the King! But I could feel the tension in the air relax. We’d swayed at least part of the crew of Erebus 2, at least for now.
Still, the other five primates were still aboard their spacecraft, zipping around in Denfall’s orbit at [27,000 kilometres per hour]. How we were to prevent them from falling into the fold of our carnivorous protectors, it was far less certain.
At last, we neared our destination. The Red Citadel is where my father crafts his royal decrees, consults with his justices and knights to enforce them, and holds royal courts to settle the disputes and pleas of nobles.
The lords of Parliament meet in Denfall Castle, which isn't far from the Red Citadel. Though they are vassals of the King, they've carefully manoeuvred over the years to force this “King’s Code” on my family. Nowadays, my father needs their consent to levy extraordinary taxes, and they can compel him to redress the grievances of other nobles.
The Red Citadel loomed in the distance as we approached in our luxury groundcar. Doctor Moore gave my paw a gentle squeeze in the glove of his environment suit. Through his visor, I could see his mouth falling open at the sight of the mighty Citadel. As of the time that I am writing this, I cannot think of a more memorable structure. It is protected on all sides with mighty walls of clay-red sandstone, ivy creeping along their sides, battlements lining their tops. And today, behind those battlements, snipers were posted to ensure the safety of our new diplomats.
Natural selection and evolution had pushed us herbivore Lamfu to run and hop away in fright from predatory threats, so that we might be more likely to survive and pass on our genes. That trait has forced us to become excellent at the art of the defensive fortification, from which we can snipe our enemies from afar! A rebellious noble attempting to lay siege to the Red Citadel wouldn't last a day.
Peeking above the walls are the spires and buttresses of the royal manor. Overlooking the manor is the abbey, its pinnacles reaching much further beyond the crenellated walls and towers. The abbey is decorated with stained glass windows and minarets, which overlook the glittering lakes and fruit orchards.
Like the surrounding walls, the abbey, manor, and other buildings are also built of red sandstone. In contrast, Denfall Castle, where the lords of Parliament invariably congress with one another, is beige like its namesake: this planet of ours itself, arid or semi-arid all over. Smaller than the Red Citadel, Denfall Castle is more of a singular fortification than a protected complex.
My tail and ears lifted with gentle happiness as I thought of the old Abbot Eli. He administers the affairs of the abbey—a monastery centred on the faith of Krucuv Mishan. One of the fondest memories from my childhood was Abbot Eli showing me the huge tapestry of Fenya the Brave, which hung in the great south hall of the abbey.
The legendary Lamfu woven into the tapestry was depicted with a sniper rifle slung over her shoulder, unfurling a scroll in her hands in order to reveal divine scripture. Before her was a horde of ignorant canids, serpents, and vulpines, not realising that a meagre herbivore was going to enlighten them as to the order of nature.
I could still feel Abbot Eli’s comforting paw on my shoulder as he described the legend, his aged voice echoing in my mind. In the face of certain death, Fenya the Brave wasn’t fearless—but in her passion to solve our overpopulation and the suffering it entailed, she had stood up against her fear.
The great iron portcullis of the Red Citadel was raised to permit entry of our luxury motorcade. My father was already talking excitedly about grand feasts and festivities. As my family and I disembarked, we escorted four Terrans through the courtyard: Doctor Usman, Doctor Moore, Doctor Kuznetsov, and Miss Malone.
“We’ve got plenty of plants and meats for you to enjoy!” my father declared. Sprinklers washed over the manicured grass, a subtle reminder of our semi-arid homeworld’s limited vegetation and water supply. “You are an omnivorous species, correct?”
For a moment, it didn’t look like anyone was going to reply, as every Terran was struggling to process my father’s offer. Finally, Doctor Moore broke the silence.
“That is correct. We can eat many things, but… I'm going to have to examine some food you bring to determine what we can eat.”
“You sure, Moore?” Doctor Usman asked, raising an eyebrow. It must have been a courtesy to us that she spoke in Circpi to her fellow Terran. “Shouldn’t we wait a lot longer? I mean, this is the first truly alien ecosystem known to mankind. We’ve only been here a day.”
“We were in orbit for many months. I am done having fear. And they are not kind towards us? I am confident with the science and examination I can do to determine what we can eat. At a minimum, one person has to… examine what happens when they eat the food, correct?”
I was certain Brother Mopsi—the old, plump chef of the Cavern Hallow below the great red abbey—had outdone himself. During the moon-periods since we’d learned it was likely that the primates could ingest our food, he and his Kitchen fellows had toiled relentlessly. In preparation for the feast my father had wanted, they had undoubtedly prepared enough wines, seafood, and pastries to feed the entire Red Citadel for [~1 week].
“Forgive me,” Princess Ilyafi chimed in as we approached the abbey’s sculpted bronze doors. “You all seem… dazed? Or is it just the grandeur of the Red Citadel? Are you in shock?”
“Yes, I think,” Miss Malone said, rubbing her comparatively dainty shoulders. (Apparently, she was a skilled pilot and aerospace engineer). “All this is very… fast.”
“You are omnivores, so I’m guessing you evolved as both prey and predator. We evolved as just prey, and we’re quite familiar with the cardiovascular effects of fright and anxiety. Sustained stress can lead to hypovolemic shock and heart failure. Are you sure you are okay?”
“We are very, of course okay,” Doctor Kuznetsov assured us. The pale-faced physicist chuckled faintly, brushing a bit of dust from his visor. “Us humans are stronger than that. But Erebus 2 went through space for thirty-one years. Half of that was a voyage to the entrance of a wormhole near the edge of our solar system. We searched for the life that the Senghavi do not reveal to us. I had a… mate, and a… litter of children. I leave and they are alone, without me.
“And then… we heard patterns in the neutrino detectors. Something that must be man-made. Alien-made. After, the months in orbit go fast. And now we are here. We did not yet remove our suits. Yet, we are walking into a big castle, and you already offer this big feast. It is just like a dream. I almost think I simply hallucinate in Erebus 2, in some far place in the Milky Way, light-years far from any alien life.”
Another pang of sympathy sank into my heart. To witness the fall of their species, and then to be separated from their kits and their mates by thousands of light-years, must have pained the primates beyond my imagination.
Right as we reached the abbey’s entrance, a distant rush of air and the tapering purr of anti-grav generators resonated through the atmosphere.
My heart dropped with the weight of an anvil. Us Lamfu rose to crouch on our hind legs with upright posture, our ears high in the air for alertness, while the Terrans just looked blankly at the sky. A dark and massive shape swept down through Denfall’s opaque cloud cover.
The Imperium of Orion is here.
As we watched dumbly from the courtyard, their ship dropped [100 kilometres] in a mere [60 seconds]. In contrast, the landing shuttle of Erebus 2 had taken [~25 minutes] to go from the boundary of the atmosphere all the way to its landing strip.
We soon could not see the ship beyond the battlements of the Red Citadel, but my father ordered the portcullis open in order to let our carnivorous protectors in. Doctor Moore’s eyebrows were pressed together, the Terran’s lipped mouth having gone somewhat limp.
The fright which this arrival inflicted upon me nearly put me into hypovolemic shock. I say such a thing for two reasons.
For one thing, it was unprecedented that the carnivores entered Denfall directly like this. They only took such an action on very special occasions. Usually, we sent the tribute to them by flying the victims of Prey-for-Protection out to their space stations ourselves.
And for the other, even when they did enter Denfall, I’d never actually seen one in person. Well, except for my glimpse of the Kursef diplomat, that frightful night as a child.
Yet here I was, watching a delegation of two more extraterrestrial species and one Denfalli species march into the courtyard. They had disregarded personal protection gear entirely. With such great exposure to the universe and such advanced technology, they were confident enough not to care about alien diseases.
Beyond the opened portcullis, the ship perched upon the sands outside the Red Citadel was a fortress of black stone, fringed with defensive bastions, its gun turrets peering through battlements. A dark bird of prey, into whose predatory talons I would soon be swept into.
“Jesus Christ,” Doctor Moore murmured, so quiet as to verge on inaudible. He absently dropped his bag of scientific instruments, seeming completely awestruck. “Usman, what are we looking at?”
“Empire,” Doctor Usman replied, her voice glassy.
“And three more confirmed extraterrestrial species,” Doctor Kuznetsov added. “And… our crew!”
Among the delegation of soldiers and dignitaries were two species I had previously not seen more than once: the serpentine Kursef and five more primate Terrans. There were also two species I’d never seen in person at all: the hulking, canid Warcs and the delicate, vulpine Pondwir.
“Hawthorne!” Doctor Usman yelled, her voice carrying across the courtyard. “What… What is this?”
One of the five primates within the delegation broke away from them, jogging towards our primates. He cut a curious figure in the grass, a slender biped in a moss-green EVA suit. He, too, was crying behind his visor. His eyes were red with tears. My gut felt a madness in those eyes.
The UN logo that was supposed to be on his shoulder looked like it had been painted over with the fang-on-star insignia of the Imperium of Orion.
“It is the culmination of these thirty-one years,” Hawthorne said to Doctor Usman, his voice breaking with emotion. He, too, spoke Circpi instead of English, but it was likely out of pressure from the carnivores, and not as a courtesy to us. “God has given it to us. We have braved the trials of space, and He has rewarded us. There really is another Empire, and it has taken our side!”
“What?” Doctor Usman asked. She glanced at my father, who shuffled uneasily. “What you’ve encountered is incredible, Hawthorne. What are these species?”
Hawthorne gestured at the delegation of soldier-protected dignitaries. “The Warcs are intelligent canid-like mammals. They evolved on this planet, adapting to hunt these Lamfu as their staple food source. It was by coevolution of predator and prey adaptations that both Warcs and Lamfu developed sapient intelligence.
“Then, there are the Kursef. They are serpent-like reptiles who swallow their prey whole—just like Earth snakes. It’s a remarkable example of convergent evolution! They are the ones who founded this Imperium.”
Imperium. The word seemed to stab Doctor Usman in the stomach. She looked at my father again, her eyes as hard as rock.
“I thought… you said they wouldn’t aid us?” she asked.
But my father, the King of us Lamfu, was silent in his shame.
“Then, the Pondwir,” Doctor Hawthorne went on. I assumed he should bear the title Doctor; the humans considered such a word to be a title, and he seemed to know as much about biology as Doctor Moore. “They are vulpine-like mammals who were nearly hunted to extinction by the colonisers. By the Senghavi. Their hides were coveted for the softness of their fur.”
“Hunting sapient beings?” Doctor Usman huffed. ”The Senghavi just keep getting better and better.”
As the rest of the delegation caught up, my ears perked up with that sort of stress and anxiety which is amplified through millions of years of coevolution at the near-bottom of the food web.
I did not mind the Pondwir, and might in fact have felt fascinated by them. They were far shorter and daintier than primates, despite their ecological role as carnivores.
The limbless, emotionless Kursef gave me chills, though that fright was more likely rooted in my childhood sighting of a Kursef than anything else. Indeed, they were animals who fed on prey, but they were too different from mammalian life to have imbued an innate fear within me. That my fear of them was somewhat of a learned, paranormal one, rather than a rational one, was comforting, in a way.
But the Warcs… Just as my anxiety was one swollen through millions of years’ worth of drawing adaptations from random mutations in a nightmarish evolutionary arms race, so, too, were their hunting adaptations. In muscle and body mass, the canid Warcs surpassed the primates threefold. The fright they caused me was neither learned nor fantastical. It was primal, an unshakeable decree by the state of nature; a feeling as natural as hunger, thirst, mating, or self-preservation.
The Warcs and us Lamfu are what we are because of each other.
The blind watchmaker selected for us our sensitive ears and wide eyesight to detect the Warcs. The Warcs evolved razor-sharp smell and keen vision to track us down. We passed on genes for powerful, digitigrade hind legs to flee them. They evolved an athletic, durable body to pursue us. Those of us with camouflage to hide for our lives were then the ones to survive and reproduce. Yet the Warcs, too, evolved camouflage to hunt so they would not starve. We rose above our animalism into a sense of reason in order to better protect ourselves. They evolved their own sense of reason, so that they might create tools to hunt and live.
In that sense, we and the Warcs owe our lives to one another. It is basic primary-school knowledge that both species attempted coexistence for millennia. Both sides did their best, truly. And both sides screwed up. The Red Citadel is built in the very metropolis that once shone as the crowning jewel of coexistence, partnership, and peace between predator and prey.
Yet, in the end, we proved we were all merely animals. The Warcs’ exodus from Denfall, into the dark infinity of space, is among the most significant and complex chapters in Denfalli history.
Perhaps the primates were lucky, in that they did not share a homeworld with the Senghavi. Their civilization had suffered a fatal devastation, indeed, but they had the privilege of a black-and-white world.
After all, I could only imagine the confused moral state in which the humans would find themselves, had they suddenly needed to grapple with the idea that the Senghavi had originated from Earth.
I huddled closer to Doctor Moore, instinctively reaching to grab his tail for support—only to remember the primates had lost their tails millions of years ago. In an action I construed as protectiveness, he positioned himself in front of me.
“A single Pondwir hide was worth the equivalent of trillions of euros,” Doctor Hawthorne said solemnly. “When the Pondwir tried to resist their slaughter at the hands of the colonisers, their homeworld was glassed by the Parimthian Crown. But the Kursef and Warcs lifted them from the ashes. Together, they are the Imperium of Orion—and we can join, too!”
Doctor Usman looked uneasily at the towering Warc ambassador, shaking in her environment suit. She lifted a hand to gesture to the opaque sky. “S-slow down! If you’re all here, then who the hell is operating Erebus 2?”
“Erebus 2 is meaningless now. Don’t you see? We are talking about a civilisation that produces [400 trillion terawatt-hours] of energy in one hour. Their ships number in the hundreds of thousands, just like the Senghavi. Their reach spans thousands of light-years. We’re saved, Usman. All of us.”
Flanked by soldiers, the colossal Warc ambassador took a menacing step forward. My father might have perished of heart failure right then and there. The Warc’s dark fur accentuated his gleaming yellow eyes. “My Princess is as beautiful as always, Your… Majesty. Indeed, her devourment will so glorify the order of nature, she alone will earn Paradise for thousands of your people!”
“My” Princess? As always? I shouldn’t have been surprised that the Warcs knew so much more about us than we knew about them, but the focus on me by a creature I’d never seen made me squirm in my personal protection suit.
“Yes, yes; it seems as such,” the Kursef diplomat hissed, its side-facing eyes like orbs of cold-blooded glass. “What a glorious day it has been! We are not only treated to royal flesh and bone, but we have finally seen a proper introduction to these fascinating primates.”
My father struggled to find his voice. “Y-You were not… Supposed to arrive, until… W-Why are you here so soon?”
“The human tribes of Earth may be snivelling, pagan things so far,” the Warc announced heartily, “but the Senghavi missed out on something big. Something big indeed! This species is full of fire, Your Majesty. We didn’t realise how brightly they burned with potential.”
At this point, all members of the Royal Security Service had scampered away. In my tense nerves, I had forgotten that they were even here. My siblings remained, however, and Ilyafi spoke up. She had always been the bravest of us.
“We will remember my sister as more than a sacrifice,” she said defiantly. “We will celebrate her devourment as the holy will of Nisma and Unatl, but we will celebrate her life and her memory in kind.”
“Hawthorne,” Doctor Usman said steadily. “These creatures constitute an Empire. They don’t care for Isolates. We are Astronaut-Ambassadors who represent the UN. They practise expansionism, conquest, and murder on a galactic scale. The values of the Charter of the United Nations are incompatible with such a civilisation.”
Doctor Hawthorne’s gaze hardened. “We travelled for thirty-one years for the salvation of all mankind. I watched my children grow up from light-years away—and for what, if not this? This is a gift from God, Usman. The Senghavi were merely His wrath upon a godless, decadent humanity. This is His forgiveness. This is His Grace.”
“If you want to bring faith into this, Hawthorne… Doctor Moore considers himself ‘saved,’ just like you. But he will back me.”
The remaining crew members of Erebus 2 stood securely among the delegation of carnivores. As Doctor Usman and Doctor Hawthorne stared each other down, I found myself hugging the leg of Doctor Moore’s environment suit.
Now, I truly understood my species’ galacto-political selfishness. Doctor Moore wouldn’t leave me for the Imperium… Would he?
“And what of the embryos, Hawthorne? We can’t take any risks, and we know next to nothing about extraterrestrial society and psychology. I am the commander of Erebus 2, and I won’t allow their seizure at the hands of these… these imperialists!”
“We cannot make a… rash choice,” Doctor Moore added, his emotions only highlighting his poor proficiency in Circpi. “Seeing the… way, the character of the Imperium is easy, just through seeing their actions and their manners. We cannot… insult their evils, if we do those evils to… other Isolates. And Usman is right. We are still the UN.”
“Half, then,” Doctor Hawthorne breathed. “You might still fancy yourselves as UN employees, but we don’t. The number of embryos is intentionally redundant. You take 10,000. We’ll take the other half. Just—please—don’t try to stop us.”
Then, to everyone’s shock, Doctor Hawthorne drew steady, confident hands towards the neckline of his helmet. He manipulated its various clips and devices with those dexterous primate fingers the humans had. His grey-irised eyes were closed as he undid the final latches, and the helmet jerked upward slightly, jets of oxygen puffing out from the neckline.
At that moment, those grey-irised eyes snapped open, their gaze suddenly bleeding with fear. His legs and gloved fingers were trembling, devoid of the bravery that seemed to have once been coursing through his veins just seconds ago. He looked uneasily at his crewmates while lifting the helmet, its various lights and indicators blinking out as the wires were disconnected from the suit.
He took a deep, sighing breath, letting our planet’s warm, dry air pour into his respiratory system. His eyes never left his crewmates, who still seemed on-edge, despite the ease with which he breathed.
“Okay, Hawthorne,” Doctor Usman replied softly. “Half. Let’s start there. And let’s talk about this in the abbey.”
“If it is your wish to bless the unblessed sands of this simpering pit that is Denfall with 10,000 more of you,” the Kursef ambassador purred, “that is your call. But as our vulpine companions can attest, the galaxy is an undulating, unruly tide. It can be hard to predict the steady future into which the Gods have offered for you to settle.
“Your rightful place, humanity, is at the top. But don’t consider it a fate unto which you will tend regardless of where you start. Only our Imperium can provide you with the proper conditions such that you can endure your hardship with faith in your deliverance. Such is the order of nature.”
“Krucuv Mishan,” Doctor Kuznetsov murmured. As he was a physicist, I wasn’t surprised he could recognize the maths-infused patterns of our religious faith within the Kursef’s spiel. “You used it to have dominance over the Lamfu. Now, you want to have dominance over us, too.”
“Don’t shirk this opportunity, primates,” the Pondwir ambassador said softly. “My people understand your quiet rage.”
Everyone looked at the Pondwir, even my family and I. He seemed full of sympathy. Only a little taller than us, it was the first time the short little creature had spoken since the delegation entered the courtyard of the Red Citadel.
The Warc diplomat froze me in his gaze. Hunger—both as the physiological adaptation of an apex predator, and as the lust for dominance over others that exists in all sapient beings—burned with the heat of molten gold in his yellow eyes. “We have someone to take before you go through those doors… Doctor Moore. The beauteous and maidenly Princess Elita is mine, not yours!”
Defiant, my primate companion stood between the Warc and I, while my father whimpered.
“Look towards this, Hawthorne,” Doctor Moore cried. “We are part of the UN. We promote rights of humans. This is not rights of humans! This is not life or liberty, or the idea that God creates all equal! This is a second-class citizen and murder that the law allows!”
“‘Equality,’ ‘liberty,’ ‘sapient rights,’ and ‘sapientism’ are mere colonialist ideals imposed upon your species by the decadent Senghavi colonists,” the Kursef ambassador hissed. “You already know they manipulated and perverted your history. Don’t bend your knee to your oppressors.”
The manicured grass left my polyethylene boots as Doctor Moore lifted me from the ground, backing away from the massive Warc. The Warc snarled, hackles raising.
A hairless mammal with hardly any natural weapons at all was stealing the prey—me—of a carnivore that had evolved specifically to kill and feast upon organisms like us. The tears in my eyes blurred my surroundings.
Doctor Moore didn’t stand a chance—and given the chilling words of these diplomats from the Imperium of Orion, neither, I thought, did Doctor Usman’s side of Erebus 2.

Henry's Life Story
I was born in 1950! Yes, I was shiny and new once upon a time. No one kept track of my first ten years of life. I was 'just a truck' to my previous owners. I ended up in Ocotillo Wells, California, run to death, with my old flathead six motor froze up. My owner at that time sold me to Denny DuVall for $35 in 1960, and thus begins my story.
Now as you look at my old primer paint, with my dents and rust, you might believe that I am still on my death bed. However, if you look under my hood, you will see a new 350 horse GM Crate motor. I'm also sporting a Cadillac clip, with disc brakes, power steering, tilt wheel, and an aluminum cross flow radiator. Topped off with a rebuilt Chevy truck transmission. A "Vintage Air" a/c unit, and tempered glass in all my doors!! OK, now back to 1960. Denny's original plan was to go in with a friend of his, buy me, resell me for a couple of hundred dollars, split the money between them, and run.
Now I must tell you that Denny's friend was not able to come up with his half of the $35. (That's $17.50 to those of you who are paying attention!!) Now Denny, being the "Financial Wizard" that he is, took another two weeks to come up with the kings ransom of $35 to rescue me from certain death!! I almost signed up for counseling on that one!!
Then – Denny buys an old wrecked '51 Ford for $15.00 (money is no object to him) and installs the flat head six motor in me. I didn't realize that he cleaned swimming pools, and he would drive me 100 miles a day, six days a week. So, a year and a half later, that motor gave up the ghost, and I limped home, with my rods banging, two cylinders gone, smoking something terrible, and no oil pressure. In spite of my internal hemorrhaging, I got him home!
And so, began the legacy of a total of ten used motors, that Denny would install in me, over the following forty years of continuous service. Not to mention the million miles that went along with that! It's a miracle that I look this good!!! In 1961, Denny got married. They had Michelle in '63; Lissa in '64, Ben in '67, and Matthew in '69. Life in Borego was good. I was into motor three by then. This family life is pretty cool. Once when Chelle and Lissa were still quite small, maybe five- and six-years- old, they were playing, "drive the panel truck." Somehow, Chelle got my motor started.
Lissa sat on the floor and worked the pedals, Michelle steered. Wegot about 150 feet on our journey, when "fleet foot" Denny caught up with us, and brought our adventure to an end. Perhaps the girls and I will continue our journey at a later date.
In '73, Denny's Dad passed away. He and his family moved to Escondido with his Mom, so she could be closer to medical facilities. She passed away in '74. Three months later his fourteen-year marriage came to an end. This was not a very happy time for him, or me. All I could do was take him from place to place, and give him shelter.
For the next five years or so, (in Denny's quest to find his 'center') consisted of going from place to place. He would stay long enough for the wind to change direction, and we would be off, again!!
The hum of my motor, and the changing scenery, would comfort him, as we headed out on a new adventure. I guess I should also tell you that his other, "source of comfort," was his lady friends. We would all take trips to the redwoods, Oregon coast, the desert, etc.
Not to tell stories out of school, – Denny went through more, "relationships" than I've gone through tires and oil changes combined in my forty plus years with him!! Oy Vey, the sacrifices I've made!!!
As time goes by, "Tumble Weed" and I end up in South Carolina for four years. During that time we go back to Pa. to meet his birth Mother (another story-another time) Then it's to Deer Lodge, Montana. Of course, Denny (in his ultimate wisdom) gets us there in December, when it's colder than a mother-in -law's kiss. Hell, my gasoline even froze up!!! Will any of my wisdom ever rub off on him?? If I ever find that person he got that $35.00 from, he'll have tire tracks on himself, from head to toe!!! By mid-January, Denny has had enough of Montana. He's down to .37 cents, and very cold. He calls his cousin Tom. Tom sends us $200, and we're off for Southern Ca. Cousin Tom has a job waiting for Denny at San Onofre. He works Continued from Page 11there for a year. Then we relocate in the Escondido area. Denny meets a lady there, and they hook up for ten years. We all move up to Ramona. This ten-year thing was not destined to last. In '93 he and I move to the Julian area, where Denny does his paint and body thing. A trade that he has been in and out of since '57. "Tumble Weed," by now has acquired a 28' motor home to live in, and a '61 "manx." A road legal sand buggy – for those of you who don't know. Yes – I've learned to share Denny with other vehicles. It gives me a well deserved rest, from time to time!!
So – from '93 through '99 it's living in or around Julian, Borego, Fallbrook, Escondido, and Poway. Going from place to place, working on other people's antique cars and hot rods. As you can tell – He didn't do any paint and body work on me !! Nooo, I got to carry the commercial compressor, and all of the paint and body tools in me, run to Escondido for paint and supplies etc. While he made everyone else beautiful!!! But I'm NOT bitter – honest I'm not!!!
Now during that time from '93 through '99 there were trips every Sept. to Bellingham, Wa., to see his kids, and grandkids. Plus trips to different states for different reasons. One of these days, my wheels will just FALL off !!! Don't get me wrong – we have a LOT of fun on these trips. We meet lots of neat people, and make lots of great friends along the way! Now – maybe, if Denny would sit still long enough, some nice lady could drive a nail through one foot, and I could have a nice home with a BIG garage and a – never mind He's got me on "high test" and my mind wonders from time to time. Hey, I have my fantasies too you know!! OK – well, would you believe in '99 Denny moves to Poway and gets a (hang on to me) REAL JOB!!! You know, show up at 8 a.m., leave at 5 p.m., Monday though Friday, pay check every Friday thing!!!! Several of his friends are still in therapy over this deal!! I hope they get better soon!! This, has also contributed to all of the things that have been done to me over the past year, and more to come!!! I just LOVE it!!

So I want to buy tickets for a Broadway show but I’m confused about which seats are good/bad. Obviously, the more you pay, the better the seats are.
My question is: are there seats/areas you should absolutely AVOID?
Are the cheapest seats (usually Left Balcony) OK, or are they so bad that you should avoid them at all costs?
Which seats are good value?
Which are best for most people?

My deadname, spoken in an accented, hoarse older man’s voice jerks me out of my endless scrolling and into the present moment. I get up, and the white-coated lab tech looks confused when he sees that I’m who answered.
“It’s ‘Tyler’. But that’s me.” I say in place of a greeting, maybe a touch more forcefully than the setting really calls for, but hearing that name broadcast to the whole waiting room and having to answer to it triggers something primal and reactive in me that reaches my voice before politeness can dampen my tone. And, after being on testosterone for three and a half years and having top surgery, being deadnamed is not something that has happened in recent memory, so it caught me off guard.
“Ah… okay. This way please, Ms. Lastname.” The lab tech says, and I ignore the blatant misgendering because playing along and letting myself believe it’s an innocent mistake is easier than correcting him and starting some kind of Conversation About Gender. I know my name is listed in my chart as ‘Tyler’ first and most prominently, with my deadname in parentheses after it, so it would be a pretty hard mistake to make, but- whatever. I already don’t really want to be there, so I’d rather just get this over with as quick as possible.
I follow the tech back to the lab, take off my jackets, and take a seat in the chair. There are maybe a couple minutes of small talk that tapers into silence as he gathers the vials for my blood draw. I know he can see what labs I’m getting done, one of which is a testosterone count- between my male name and appearance, the gender listed on my chart, and the androgen level test I’m getting, I figure he knows that I’m a transgender man by this point if he didn’t already.
He asks which arm I want the needle in, and I say the left even though I’m left handed and usually choose my right arm, because I guess my monkey-brain response to being misgendered is to try to be as normative as possible and left-handedness is not ‘typical’, or… something.
He draws my blood and bandages the crook of my elbow, and I’m grateful that this spin of the blood draw roulette wheel landed on ‘totally unaffected’ instead of ‘fainting and puking’. I lower my sleeve, get up from the chair, and pull on my jacket, followed by my raincoat. I get tangled up in the sleeves somehow and this takes me a minute- truly, it was probably under a minute, but it stretched out into eons as the lab tech gathered up my vials of blood and cleaned up. We’d barely spoken, but I was flustered, anxious, and on edge, fight-or-flight instincts kicked into high gear.
“Bye, have a good rest of your day, ma’am,” he says as I’m turning to leave. I’m steaming at the seeming deliberateness (bordering on maliciousness?) of this third misgendering, but try not to let it show, just hastily wish him a good day and make my exit.
I don’t think of the blood draw again for the next several days- it’s not until nearly a week later when the site of the blood draw catches my eye, as a splotch of purple-yellow bruising in the crook of my elbow maybe three and a half inches long, right around where the needle punctured my skin.
Sure, it could be that it bruised because the blood was drawn from my left arm, which is my dominant arm and gets more use. He also may have messed something up accidentally somehow that caused me to bruise. Or I could have been dehydrated or something- I was fasting before my labs, after all. I can’t recall ever having a bruise after a blood draw, I don’t bruise very easily in general, but- people do bruise after getting blood drawn sometimes, that’s not unusual by any means, so I try my best to let the whole thing go.
But seeing the residual bruising still there nearly two weeks later, feeling and seeing the vein in that arm protruding prominently compared to my right arm, combined with the multiple times the lab tech misgendered and deadnamed me during my visit, I can’t help but feel it was… intentional? And that feels crazy, what kind of medical employee (especially an employee of a seemingly progressive and higher-end medical group in an urban part of California) would do something to harm a (trans) patient deliberately?
When I got my results back, after a few days longer than it’s taken in the past, my testosterone count showed as alarmingly high- until I realized the lab ran the test with the female testosterone ranges, instead of the male ranges. This has happened a couple times before, from other labs too, and it doesn’t impact the results so it wasn’t an issue in itself but it did feel like another strike in favor of the tech sabotaging my tests.
It was probably not deliberate. I’m probably overreacting to the whole thing, if there was even a ‘thing’ in the first place to react to. There’s probably some explanation for why it’s either my fault or nobody’s fault that my arm ended up pretty significantly bruised after this blood draw, when I normally have no bruising at all.
But I still have the creeping feeling that this lab tech was transphobic, and deliberately deadnamed and misgendered me, deliberately was not careful and bruised my arm, and deliberately ran my testosterone count against the female ranges instead of the male ranges. Even though I have no concrete evidence of this and have tried to believe the other possibilities, it still just feels that way, with a creeping feeling of ick under my skin and at the back of my mind.

I’ve been a train conductor all my life. Since before I can even remember. My earliest memories are all on the rails, and I still have some glimpses of that first little steam engine. I can't really remember my parents' faces, but people have pointed out to me that they must have existed since I'm here. It was so long ago, but I’ll always keep some fond memories of that first rustic locomotor.
Since that time, my train has changed so much, I’m not sure it’s even recognizable anymore. I just drive the train, I don’t really know much about how they work. I do know that a lot of people have all contributed to my train, from the master engineer who designed my original carapace, all the way down to the jackass who spray painted my 74th left wheel. Point is, a lot of moving parts worked together to build this beauty of an iron horse I have the pleasure of conducting nowadays. Not to brag too much, but a lot of people have even given me compliments on how great the exterior looks, how fast it can go, how fuel efficient it is. The passenger cars are incredibly luxurious and accommodating these days. I’ve heard that people have mentioned how much they enjoyed riding on my train, which makes me very proud as a conductor. As the motor car has gotten more and more upgrades, my hauling capacity has increased exponentially over the years too, and I never saw a reason not to haul things for people if I could. Why I shouldn’t help move material across the country if it’s within my train’s capacity? After all, isn’t that what my train for, to get from point A to point B?
Even though she’s objectively a top tier train, truth be told, I’m kind of an idiot. I barely even know how to work all the new features on it now, let alone follow the 58 pages of railway regulations. So many people have worked on it throughout the years, and even though each and every technician meant for the best, these guys all came from different companies and worked on the train separately with their own techniques and equipment. I don’t even really think about all the uneven rails I make my train drive on anymore. They’re bumpy, but I got used to them so long ago.
Even though my baby can still zoom across the country, even my dumbass can tell that something ain’t right in the engine room. I know it doesn’t matter because I get paid the same no matter what, but I’ve grown rather fond of this train since I’ve been with her for so long. I don’t really care for trains personally but people always tell me they like my train and that I should keep conducting it, and so I always have. As the only person who’s ever conducted this train from its creation to now, I can tell that something REALLY isn’t right this time around though. This isn’t the damn screw on my control panel getting loose for the millionth time, even I know how to work a wrench.
I wish someone taught me how to make real repairs to the actual machinery back there though. There’s always been a manual in the cabin I guess, but it’s in a foreign language so I never really bothered; plus, I doubt I’d be able to learn it anyways without someone showing me. Even if I wanted to take her to the “shop” to get her properly diagnosed, she’s a completely unique train nowadays and I’m not sure anyone would be able to unpack the layers of metal and machinery.
Fortunately, there are other people who care about the train too. There’s a really brilliant engineer who is still actively designing new upgrades for my train, and there’s no way my train would be so well regarded without her contributions. I’ve heard her name is Mom, I’ve never actually met her so I'm not sure if that's actually her name but I hope her company pays her well for her work because even I can tell she is passionate about pushing the envelope when it comes to train design. Over the years my company has hired all sorts of maintenance men to “diagnose” and “fix” the train. I never know what they’re doing because I’m just the conductor so I just sit in the cabin. I’m pretty sure they hired some amateurs for the last “check up” and they did a pretty shoddy job; they looked like they meant well, but all I could see was that they were working on the wheels instead of the engine, and all I know is that the sputtering has only gotten worse recently.
I wish I could reach out to the first engineer who ever laid hands on my train and ask her what’s wrong, but like I said, she wouldn’t even be able to recognize the actual train if it was in front her, it’s so different from her blueprints. Plus, with her talent, I’m sure she’s doing important work too and I don’t want to put more on her plate. I’m lucky in that they gave me a handyman always on board, but I’m unlucky in that this dude I nicknamed Cat is somehow even dumber than me. However, we sometimes play spades (his one genuine talent in life), and at least we can agree that something is wrong with the engine lately, so I still like having him around. Apparently he finally got into the engine car today (neither of us had ever been), and I finally got to see what pulls my 10,000 tonne carriage.
As my engine has gotten way, way “better” as technology has improved, so too has the number of cars I’m able to pull. I’ve lost count but I must pull hundreds behind me these days. Even though my train’s engine is top of the line, I guess no one ever bothered to check on it since it was “cutting edge” when it was designed. Well, I’m looking at this thing and it’s a sad sight. No shit it’s making a ton of noise, I can see all the rust accumulated between each component, the white paint cover almost completely chipped away and covered with leaking, dirty oil. It was so greasy and hot in there, and the worst part was the smell. Oh Jesus. It was so bad.
For the first time basically ever, I’m not sure how long the train can keep running like this. I don’t know why I even care, there’s plenty of other jobs out there, and this one doesn’t even give me any vacation days.
But then again, I can’t help but think about my train. I’ve heard a lot of people are trying to figure out the issue with the engine, but deep down, I know the problem: we’re running out of the very unique fuel my train needs to keep chugging. I don’t know how to fix the problem, because remember, I don’t know the first thing about how a train engine works. I just drive the train. But I know that I don’t stop at the same fueling depots anymore, I guess they’re finally running out of these fossil fuels huh?
I don’t know where or how to find more fuel, but I’m always on the lookout. When I’m not doing that or conducting, I’ve been secretly sending notes to "Mom" at the engineering corps for ideas on a new engine, one that’s even better than the current one. One that runs on renewable energy, yet can somehow haul even more. Maybe I'm just dreaming and the technology isn't there yet, but you might as well ask, right?
I’m trying to find ways to help them in their design process, but I know these complicated smart people things take years sometimes. Even though I’m getting paid all the same, I can’t help but wonder if anyone wouldn’t be able to get from A to B without my train, or if a kid will miss his birthday gift because my train couldn’t be there to ship it for him. I guess I’ve always driven trains, and even though I can’t say I necessarily like it, I guess I am pretty good at it. After all, in all my years as a conductor, I never had any accidents and I always met my deadlines. I always did my part and kept driving the train.
I don’t want to stop conducting my train. It’s where I belong. I don’t know how to fix all the problems with it, but I’m just doing my best to chug along with the fuel I've got. I guess it's just annoying that everyone talks about how great the train is, but no one cares enough to fix it when it's breaking down. Maybe someday, I’ll finally be able to figure out how to build that next-gen engine. The idea of cruising around even faster, hauling even more, and doing it without polluting the atmosphere does bring an ever-so-slight smile to my face, even though I really don't even like trains that much. But sometimes, just sometimes, I briefly wonder how nice it'd be to change careers. I hear Paul the accountant has 8 weeks off, great benefits and can work from home 3 days a week. That doesn't sound so bad sometimes.
This train cabin is all I've ever known though, and I've never been too good with numbers. Plus, if I leave, no one will be there to conduct my beautiful train anymore, and that'd be a shame, wouldn't it? I can't believe I lost so many hands to the handyman yesterday too, there's no way I'm leaving without finally beating that guy for once. And besides, who knows, things have always worked out somehow, so maybe that new engine is right around the corner.

I (22F) have been best friends with , let’s call her, Alex (22F) since freshman year of college. We both came from out of state and clicked right away. We live separate. She has never been in a relationship, but has always been talking to different guys. I was always super supportive of trying to give advice to move things along with Tinder boys that she wanted to get in a relationship with. Nothing ever happened.
This year (our senior year), she met someone, Will. A friend of a friend. They met about a month and a half ago. The day they met, she flaked on our plans and didn’t respond till much later, because they immediately went on a date that went well. Things moved really quick and he made her become exclusive immediately, before ever making it official (understandable though). Then it just became one thing after another.
We went on a trip for spring break, and some guy friends came with along with other girls. All of them have girlfriends, and her and I slept in a bedroom when they slept in the living room. He found out that there were guys in the AirBnB with us and ignored her for the entire day, saying that he was so upset they were there and they were going to have a talk when she got back. At this point, I hadn’t met him in person.
Since coming back from this trip, I met him. Alex sleeps at his house or he sleeps at hers every single night. She has bailed on plans or just said she was busy with him when I try to make any new ones. The few times we have hung out, he’s there, invited or not. And he doesn’t make a point to try and get to know anyone, and ridicules me when I try and get to know him.
He’s also insanely controlling, I went over to watch a show with her and he wouldn’t let us put it on because the “guy main characters are too hot”. Like what? Last night was the first night I’ve seen her in two weeks (for the reasons stated above). It was supposed to be a girls night, but she said he really wanted to come. At the pregame she sat in the corner with him and when I told her to come over to where we were, he cut in and said “well she’s with me”. She left the group multiple times at the bar with him, and eventually just flat left entirely without saying anything until after she walked out (we had been at the bar for an hour). Everyone we were with said they weren’t a fan of him.
She just doesn’t act like herself at all anymore and hasn’t hung out with any of her friends. We have one month left till we all graduate and we’re all moving states away from each other. Both her and him are staying here for graduate school. I don’t know how to bring this up with her without her hating me for it. I know she’s just excited for finally having a boyfriend, but I just feel like this isn’t right. I miss hanging out with my best friend. Would I be the AH for saying something??

Without going into too many details. I have been seeing someone for about two years now. Did not know she was a dancer in the beginning. We initially met on-line.....Covid. And we decided to take it off line. I learned she was a dancer, and that added a whole different level to the relationship. I am not a strip club guy, so really do not know the life style. I think I should be jealous or something with her work, but honestly, I am just not jealous at all. We joke that sometime I will come into her work and see how it is, but we both know, I will never do that. We live far from each other (two hour plane trip). So we only see each other about once a month or two. She is coming to visit me last week of March. We talk and text multiple times a day, and have become pretty close. She knows about my family, and I know about hers, etc. When we are together, usually about 4-5 days at a time, it is really good. relaxed, fun, helping each other with things. Sometimes I go stay with her, sometimes she comes and stays with me, some times we go on vacation. We have been to a few places in the states, Vegas included. Been to Mexico a few times, and just had a blast. We are not young, and both know what we are doing :)
Curious if anyone else has kept a longer term friendship. She is so hot, but also so sweet. Best cook I ever met. Makes so many things from scratch. Tomorrow, Sunday I pick her up from the airport, and we share a few more days together. About half the time we share duties in the kitchen, and half the time we go out to eat.
I am sure I am a bit biased, She is very hot. Slender, petite, nice boobs, and cute little butt. Very pretty face in or out of make up. Just killer. Amazing to take her to dinner, or just walk through the mall or downtown with her. She knows she looks good, but is just so relaxed with it. Almost oblivious to the attention she gets. Probably learned to ignore it from work.
Just wondering if anyone has gone the longer term relationship with a dancer?

How did you discover Eurobeat?
Ok, so I’m 32, and I was first exposed to Eurobeat in the 5th grade. I was hardcore into Dance Dance Revolution and always played it when I visited the arcade at the local skating rink. I heard Hot Limit by John Desire (WE DRINK RITALIN!!!) and songs by Judy Crystal and liked them, but I had no idea what genre they belonged to. And then I heard Night of Fire by Niko in a Sailor Moon amv and loved the song. So I burned these songs to some CDs and listened to them constantly.
Then I slowly grew out of playing DDR, but a few years later, I saw people discussing Eurobeat online, but I was confused and mistakingly believed it was the same as Eurodance. Feeling intrigued, I went on a YouTube search and was taken to a ParaPara video of Night Of Fire and was like, “Oh wow!!! Nostalgia!!”. I was surprised that it was a separate genre from Eurodance, despite the similar names. I listened to more Eurobeat songs after that, and began downloading the Super Eurobeat series. Now my Eurobeat collection exceeds over 100 GB. I can’t stop listening to it; it’s like a drug to me in the best possible way. And after getting into Eurobeat, I found Italo-Disco, which is also great.
Just for the record, I’m not into Initial D.

Introduction
Have you ever dreamt of setting foot in a land where the East meets the West, and ancient history merges seamlessly with modernity? Well, dream no more! Turkey tours offer a unique blend of experiences that cater to all types of travelers. From historic sites to breathtaking landscapes, delicious cuisine, and warm hospitality, Turkey has it all. So, are you ready to embark on an unforgettable journey? Let's dive into the world of Turkey tours and explore this fascinating country together.
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A Melting Pot of Cultures
Turkey is a true melting pot of cultures, with a rich history that spans thousands of years. From the Hittites to the Romans, Byzantines, and Ottomans, each civilization has left its mark on the land, creating a diverse tapestry of influences.
Stunning Landscapes
From the fairy chimneys of Cappadocia to the turquoise coastlines of the Aegean and Mediterranean Seas, Turkey is home to some of the most diverse and awe-inspiring landscapes on Earth.
Mouthwatering Cuisine
Foodies, rejoice! Turkey's cuisine is a delightful fusion of flavors, combining Mediterranean, Middle Eastern, and Central Asian influences. From succulent kebabs to melt-in-your-mouth baklava, there's something for everyone.
Popular Turkey Tours
Istanbul – Where History Comes Alive
A trip to Turkey wouldn't be complete without a visit to its cultural heart, Istanbul. This bustling metropolis straddles two continents and boasts a rich history that includes iconic landmarks like Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque, and the Grand Bazaar.
Cappadocia – A Surreal Wonderland
Cappadocia is a dreamlike destination known for its unique geological formations, underground cities, and hot air balloon rides. Don't miss out on exploring the region's ancient cave dwellings and monasteries carved into the soft volcanic rock.
Ephesus – A Window into the Ancient World
Step back in time as you wander through the ancient ruins of Ephesus, once a thriving city and now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Highlights include the Temple of Artemis, the Library of Celsus, and the Great Theater.
Turkey's Hidden Gems
Pamukkale – A Cotton Castle of Dreams
Discover the magical, mineral-rich hot springs of Pamukkale, which have created a series of cascading, snow-white terraces reminiscent of a fairy tale castle.
Antalya – The Turquoise Coast's Crown Jewel
Nestled on Turkey's southern coast, Antalya is a picturesque city with stunning beaches, historic sites, and vibrant nightlife. It's the perfect base for exploring the Turquoise Coast.
Tips for Planning Your Turkey Tour
When to Go
The best time to visit Turkey depends on your preferences and itinerary. Spring and fall offer milder weather and fewer crowds, while summer is ideal for beach vacations.
Visa Requirements
Most travelers require a visa to enter Turkey. Be sure to check your country's requirements and apply online before your trip.
Safety Considerations
Turkey is generally a safe destination for tourists. However, it's always wise to take standard precautions, such as safeguarding your belongings and staying aware of your surroundings.

I’m going through some shifts with my longest friend of 10 years (met in college).
My friend: She had her first child before her 21st birthday. Hence why she took a couple extra years to graduate college. Right after graduation, she moved back to her hometown and started working for a family business. Several years later, she got unexpectedly pregnant again by a new boyfriend. And then a few years after that, she got married to someone else (I was in their wedding) and had her third child shortly after (last fall). So 3 kids, 3 dads, 1 husband. She never stayed single for long between boyfriends.
Me: I’ve spent most of my 20s single, with some intense relationships that had good intentions in the beginning but just never worked out, probably for the best. I’ve always had options, but I also have high standards and don’t want to settle. I also don’t chase men. My friend always tells me that I’m so picky. I’ve moved around a lot pursuing my career, I’ve met lots of people, focus on a lot of self development. While I also desire to marry and have kids, I don’t think it’s worth it if I can already see red flags in a potential partneco-parent.
My friend found out she was pregnant with her third child, the same time I moved back in with my parents after being away for 10 years, to embark on a career change. In that year, I experienced a lot of verbal and emotional abuse from my father, felt very isolated as I don’t have friends in my hometown and it’s not a great area to date, and my health also flared up. In this time, my friend grew very distant. She said she’s pushed all her friendships away, but social media proved differently. It was very hurtful to me, to see that she’d post celebratory posts for all her friends who were getting married and having babies on social media, including my cousin who I’ve been estranged from the past few years and she’s Never even met him. Yet, she often wouldn’t return calls or answer texts.
My friend & I only spoke to each other twice last year and she disclosed how toxic her marriage was and how awful her husband can be to her two other kids. Even though on social media, she raves about him. It wasn’t surprising to me though, because even in the years that they were dating it was hot/cold, and they almost called off the wedding at least twice.
In the conversations I did have with her and I was sharing the challenges I was dealing with, she said “so how’s your personal life?” Alluding to dating. And I’m like, this all is my personal life. she also said that I expect to much in friendships and everyone has their own $#!t to deal with.
I don’t know how to go about this. I feel a lot of resentment but also just deeply hurt. I understand things change when one friend is having children and the other isn’t, but it’s hurtful that she’s chosen to maintain contact with others and not me.

I bought brand new MY18 Impreza 2.0i back in 2017. It’s been kept up to service and I have done about 30ks with it.
Now the reason I even thought about updating is because back then I could not afford the model with eyesight, but now that I have been working, I kind of can scrap up some money.
And then I realised because of covid there are people selling the same car with higher mileage than mine with a price I bought or even higher.
With 2023 new Subaru coming out, what would you do? 1. Sell old car, add 10-15k to buy MY24 Impreza 2. Sell old car, add 5-8k to buy MY22 but with better trim (leather seat, eyesight) 3. Sell old car, add nothing and buy MY23 base model brand new 4. Don’t sell, spend 2k to get a deep detailing done so it feels new?
Honestly I don’t really know which is best. The car itself don’t have any problem, it just seem like a free upgrade opportunity. Am trying to save for a deposit for a property too though.

Hey all. I've been keeping fish for about a year now, and have 2 aquariums. 75 gallon planted and 10 gallon planted. Our power went out and won't be on until tomorrow at best. I've got battery powered air pumps going, and have done a few minor water changes with hot water to keep things steady. But it drops below freezing here at night, and I'm worried I'll lose some fish. Ive partially covered the tanks with towels for now. Any suggestions to keep everyone alive?