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Going off birthplaces from Wikipedia:

• George Washington: "Old Popes Creek." 5/5. Rolls off the tongue.
• John Adams: "Old Braintree" 5/5. I bet his enemies would have called him "Old Tree-brain."
• Thomas Jefferson: "Old Shadwell." 3/5. Sounds like the guy who's under the mask in a Scooby Doo episode.
• James Madison: "Old Port Conway." 2/5. Boring.
• James Monroe: "Old Monroe Hall." 1/5. That's not a nickname. Who is this guy, royalty, that he's born in a palace named for his family?
• John Quincy Adams: "Old Braintree." 2/5. Once is funny, twice is lame.
• Andrew Jackson: "Old Waxhaw." 4/5. Sounds pretty tough, but there's literally a town of Hickory, NC that was incorporated in 1870. If they had called it that earlier, he could have kept his nickname.
• MVB: 5/5. OK was also the OG.
• William Henry Harrison: "Old Charles City County." 1/5. How can he be a city and a county? Make up your mind!
• John Tyler: "Old Greenway Plantation." 2/5. Fitting for a guy who ended his life in the Confederacy that he'd have a name that makes you think of slavery.
• James Polk: "Old Pineville." 4/5 Just sounds too much like a town. Just Old Pine would have seemed like he's being more useful than Jackson.
• Zachary Taylor: "Old Barboursville." 3/5. If you've seen his pictures, he needed an old barber. Or a young barber.
• Millard Fillmore: "Old Moravia." 3/5. Sounds like it should be in Eastern Europe.
• Franklin Pierce: "Old Hillsborough" 4/5. Ever since it was used for the town in the movie "Inherit the Wind," it sounds cool.
• James Buchanan: "Old Cove Gap." 5/5. Would just about confirm those rumors.
• Abraham Lincoln: "Old Sinking Spring." 2/5. Seems like an enemy's nickname, playing off his looks.
• Andrew Johnson: "Old Raleigh." 1/5. Everyone knows where that is, and he certainly didn't "rally" the nation.
• Ulysses S. Grant: "Old Point Pleasant." 5/5. For the irony.
• Rutherford B. Hayes: "Old Delaware." 4/5. For how it would confuse people.
• James A. Garfield: "Old Moreland Hills." 2/5. This should have been Jefferson's, what with the Louisiana Purchase.
• Chester A. Arthur: "Old Fairfield." 3/5. Old fair-to-middling is more like it.
• Grover Cleveland: "Old Caldwell." 5/5. This one just fits.
• Benjamin Harrison: "Old North Bend." 4/5. Would have been a good name for an antebellum anti-slavery president.
• Grover Cleveland: "Old Caldwell." 1/5. This one just doesn't fit.
• William McKinley: "Old Niles." 2/5. I didn't like the Frasier reboot.
• Theodore Roosevelt: "Old New York City." 5/5. That's where they set the Matt Groening show "Pastarama" in an alternate universe.
• William Howard Taft: "Old Cincinnati." 3/5. It's no fun when they're born in actual cities that people have heard of.
• Woodrow Wilson: "Old Staunton." 3/5. I guess it does sound like the nickname for a professor.
• Warren G. Harding: "Old Blooming Grove." 2/5. Another enemy nickname, especially if he had had acne.
• Calvin Coolidge: "Old Plymouth Notch." 3/5. I guess you could do something with, "You couldn't ply his mouth open even one notch," but that's just too complicated.
• Herbert Hoover: "Old West Branch." 5/5. For the guy who wrecked the banks, all that was left of them was...you get it.
• Franklin D. Roosevelt: "Old Hyde Park." 5/5. As a guy from Long Island, this one is funny because we have the town of New Hyde Park here.
• Harry S Truman: "Old Lamar." 2/5. If that had been FDR, his enemies could have called him "Old Lamer."
• Dwight D. Eisenhower: "Old Denison." 2/5. "Old denizen of where?"
• John F. Kennedy: "Old Brookline." 1/5. Come on, this guy should have been "Old Intercourse" or something.
• Lyndon B. Johnson: "Old Gillespie County." 4/5. If it didn't have that "county," it could have sounded like a jowly old dog. Which he was.
• Richard M. Nixon: "Old Yorba Linda." 2/5. Just feels wrong for him to have a Spanish nickname.
• Gerald Ford: "Old Omaha." 3/5. He played football, but that's Peyton Manning's nickname.
• Jimmy Carter: "Old Plains." 5/5. Actually sounds like a thing.
• Ronald Reagan: "Old Tampico." 2/5. Sounds like a business that makes feminine hygiene products.
• George H. W. Bush: "Old Milton." 5/5. Paradise Lost indeed.
• Bill Clinton: "Old Hope." 5/5. I think a lot of people actually know this one. "I still believe in a place called Hope."
• George W. Bush: "Old New Haven." 3/5. The "old-new" thing already came up with TR.
• Barack Obama: "Old Nairobi." Kidding! Kidding! "Old Honolulu." Again, not fun if you know where it is. Well, it would have been fun if I could have listed 45's nickname. Go look it up.

I had a strange relationship with deconstruction as my dad was trained at a university level to do apologetics. He was an LDS chaplain in the Army, and every night for scripture study, we got discourses on the nuances of our faith and justifications for every question we ever had. I didn’t swear until I was 18 years old, or drink caffinated anything until about that time as well, because it was never a matter of justification. It was what my family, my tribe, my people did, to go to church on Sunday, and to be worthy. I was senior patrol leader and assistant to the bishop if that clarifies who I was. I didn’t have “God will reveal it in due time” parents. I had “Here’s the answer, here’s contemporary discussion about it. Here’s some reading material if you want to learn more” parents, except for they were wicked smart, and had biased conclusions.
I was called to serve in the Mexico City East mission. Shortly before opening my mission call, I broke up with my girlfriend at the time. i left BYU-I and went home to prepare. I received my endowments after lying to my stake president about my worthiness to enter the house of the lord. I came clean, and he threatened to not let me go out for a year because I was unclean. The prick made me talk to a therapist to be cleared for the mission field. The therapist had a brain and let me go out. When I was giving my mission farewell speech, I wrote it to include the teachings of many religions in it. I had drawn inspiration from the 13th article of faith “We believe all things, hope all things-“ and wrote a poem about how Adam and Eve related to the Resurection and Atonement of christ. My dad tells me the stake president was shifting in his seat like he wanted to pull me down from the pulpit. Prick.
The CCM was a pleasure to attend because of my district. The guys in my district there held a secret thanksgiving feast after hours when we were supposed to be in bed with food we had smuggled out of the cafeteria. We had look outs so we wouldn’t be caught by the patrolling teachers. My district was placed under surveillance because of politics against our spanish teacher who we could tell actually cared about us, and we were transferred into a classroom with one sided mirrors, and microphones hanging from the ceiling. An apostle came to speak to the entire CCM, and I thought we would get a chance to meet with him directly, or that he would be even remotely accessible in some way. He was kept away from us, separate and removed even though we had the same mission. I played a lot of volley ball, and got into shape enough that I touched the rim of a basketball hoop for the first time while I was there.
My first companion was a native speaker, and liked to spend the mornings in the cyber (Internet Cafe). He would make sure I was on LDS.org while he looked at softcore porn on instagram. We would spend hours there, and I was disappointed that this was the mission.
We went to a previous investigators house, and while there, we saw preparations for an animal sacrifice. These guys were putting alcohol, cocaine, and blowing smoke onto a white chicken, and placed in into a cardboard box with a bunch of black chickens. They showed us a room full of weapons, with blood and feathers strewn all over the floor. We noped the fuck out, and went home.
I requested an emergency transfer after spending most days in the cyber, watching my companion deface JW’s property, and being an all around dick to me by telling me how to shower and how to sleep.
For his replacement, the person that would help me with his bastion of knowledge, they gave me a white guy who spoke as much Spanish as I did because he was only a transfer further into his mission than me. They made this poor kid senior companion to me before his first transfer was over. Why? Because the kid was a workaholic.
The first thing this elder and I did when we got to our apartment was to pick up and leave to go to the house of a member who had just died. We sang at the wake. I sang in a language I didn’t know, for people I didn’t know, with a companion I didn’t know. We sounded pretty damn good. The elder began setting appointments with the non-believing family members during the service. I just sat and watched the mindless kids chase the family dog.
This elder skipped lunch every day, and made me do the same. We knocked every door in our area twice that transfer. One time, he got very sick, and was delirious out in the sun with me while we were walking. I made us go home for lunch that day, and he made me promise to wake him up after thirty minutes so we could get back to the Lord’s work. Three hours later he woke up, chewed me out for letting him sleep that long, and then begrudgingly thanked me for making him rest.
One time, while walking, this Elder expressed to me that he also had some questions, but he was afraid to share the details because he knew my own testimony was fragile. I pressed him for details of his plight, and he revealed to me the darkest part of church history that he had learned while we were in the CCM, that Joseph Smith had drank alcohol while in Carthage Jail before he died. Thoughts of Fanny Alger, of Mountain Meadows Massacre, and of my own mother’s rather recently implemented looser interpretation of the word of wisdom all flashed through my head. This guy was supposed to be my teacher? All I could do was express how sorry I was for his confusion, and told him to have faith. Heaven knew I couldn’t help him.
One night with this companion, it was storming hard, and the streets were flooded. This guy refused to let us go home. We climbed along fences to avoid getting our already wet shoes soaked, and waded through a foot of water to get to the doors that were slammed in our faces. There was a loose wire on a door bell, and when I rang it, I was shocked by the completed circuit the water made. Rejection after rejection piled up. Finally, my “senior” companion said that this was the last row of houses. On the last house of the last row, there was a family that was all deaf. The father opened the door, and was suprised to see us and didn’t know who we were. I remembered the sign for Jesus from my grandparents who started and ran the ASL endowment ceremony in the Saint George temple. The family was thrilled we knew the sign. When I asked if we could come in, the family politely waved goodbye and closed the door on our faces.
Another time when it rained, something fell into my eye. It was one of those freak nature accidents, and small enough that I couldn’t figure out how to get it out without a mirror. The thing stayed wedged in the corner of my eye for hours before we got home and I could finally get the foreign object out. Looking at it on my finger, I could see it was a small green spider. Days later, still in pain, I pulled what I can only assume was accumulated webbing from the spider that I’d crushed against my eyeball off of my lower eye lid. The pain stopped after that.
I bought a $500 camera. It was stolen within a month.
This Elder and I had the good luck before transfers to baptize two children. They would have been baptized anyways, so I didn’t do any actual converting, but I taught a few lessons, got in the water and did the dunk. Bucket list item, check.
I didn’t have enough time for laundry on P-Day, so I’d wash my outfit and dry in on the radiator through the night. Transfers happen, and my new companion lied to our land lords about the electricity bill, paying it in full but not giving a reason as to why it was so high. I didn’t care anymore, I just needed something clean to wear, but these land lord had treated me and my previous companion well, better than the previous landlord who had stolen our cleaning supplies. I felt these people deserved honesty. My senior companion capitulated eventually, and he and I butted heads regularly after that on the morality of things. I think in hindsight he was a smarter and better man than I was.
The new land lords, the “Lagunez Family”, were wonderful. They included us in their activities, and I felt like I had some people in my corner. When I eventually came home from my mission, a daughter of the family had written me a goodbye letter. She is currently serving a mission. They made some great music, and I have “Infiltradors” on CD, the official name of the band the father of the family was a part of (he was the drummer).
I knew the whole area by heart by that point, so I navigated us to our appointments. Half of the landmarks I watched for to know our location were interesting buildings with unique colors. The other half of my landmarks were dead dogs whose decaying corpses had become second nature to see. I began marking how much time had passed by how deeply a certain dog on a certain dirt path’s chest was caved in.
There was an apartment complex in my area that I had been told not to proselytize in because “It’s dangerous.” Turns out, those people didn’t have any money, so the church didn’t want them. That complex was past the dog and to the east about ten blocks.
My companion and I knocked on a door, and visited a man who was missing his legs. His daughter was there, putting dirty water on the aching wounds. He had a single room for a house, and wheezed when he spoke. He couldn’t afford medication. He still went out and worked all day for his daughter, and gave her whatever money he made, trusting her to keep him alive somehow. The church expected this man to pay tithing. The church expected me to tell this man to pay tithing.
I got the chance to hike up a mountain. At the top, I played chess with a chess set I’d procured from one of the best rapid chess players I’ve ever met. He had been the ward mission leader. He was a good man, a good father, and I wish him the best.
I found another man who was deaf and spoke sign language. I sat with him, and convinced him to come to church all by myself while my companion talked with some tienda tender. I was so excited because this was my own personal project and it was going well. The man came to church, and I sat with him through sacrament meeting. In Sunday school (I can’t believe I did this), I accidentally drooled on the guy. I was just talking so he could read my lips, and I guess I forgot to swallow at some point because a dolup of spit landed on his arm. I apologized profusely, and he played it off, but I never saw that investigator again.
My companion and I knocked a door one day, and a man answered. He wore tattered clothes, and maggots were burrowing into and out of his feet. He muttered something about the stars, missing his wife, and he began to tear up. My eyes stung from the stench. The door closed. Somehow, I knew the man would be dead in a matter of weeks.
I had lost hope that I was doing anything worth while. I looked down on the Doc Martins that had stayed with me five months at this point. I was angry with myself for being so useless in the field, angry with the church for giving me leaders that didn’t listen to my needs or perspective, angry with my mom for drinking while I had to teach people that it was a sin, angry with my dad for giving me the skills and knowledge to justify anything, even pedophilia in the early days of the church, to the point where I could look someone in the eye, and knowing the kind of man Smith was, tell them he was a good man and a true prophet of God. Suddenly a man approached us. He said he recognized us as missionaries, and asked about our message. This never happened. People didn’t just come up to us unless they were crazy or dangerous. But this was a public place, and this guy was genuine. My companion talked to him, and gathered his story, but I was plotting something else. I was done with not caring about these people in a way that mattered. I was tired of walking in another man’s shoes, a man who wasn’t me, who believed different things than me. The chopped leg, the rotting dogs, the infested feet, it all swirled into a single thought in that moment.
What would Jesus do?
I walked over to the man, and in broken Spanish asked him to stand next to me. He did so, and I compared my shoe size to his foot. It was a perfect match. He protested, but I didn’t let him get a word in edge wise. I took off my shoes, put them on his dirty feet, and laced them up nice and tight. Those shoes had cost a ton, and had been meant to last the whole mission. All I had left at this point were my fancy dress shoes that gave my blisters back at the apartment. I didn’t care. I walked home in my socks that day, happy as a lark.
Covid-19 hit a month later. I was one of the few they brought home instead of quarantining. After having served only 6 months. I told God if he wanted me to stay home, he’d have to make them release me.
They released me. I think I was one of maybe a hundred missionaries that were released due to Covid. The church realized their mistake pretty soon after I was released. Once Covid infrastructure began to develop, they didn’t release any more. I guess I didn’t serve a full two years, but I did serve a full mission.
My brother served, and he nearly killed himself due to intense depression brought on by Covid quarantine and poor leadership (I’ve got a few mission president stories, but those are for another time).
I learned lying to someone’s face from my mission, and spent the rest of my time at BYU-I as “nuanced” until the last two years, over which the most epic hoe phase imaginable became my new mission. I spent those years terrified of getting a call from the honor code office.
I’m married now, with my degree irrevocably in my possession. I have friends and loved ones that are in the church and are working on their mission papers. I’m beginning to feel powerless again. I’m seeing the decay again, not on legs, feet, or dogs anymore, but in the souls of the people who the church raises to do their dirty volunteer work. I see them like the animal sacrifices I saw being prepared. I’m not sure what shoes I have left to give to those people that I know are going to be in pain.
My parents are out completely now. It was a long time coming, but they are out and so much happier. I’m working on building a new relationship with my family, one based off of the fact that we won’t be together forever, so we have to make the most of our time together now.
Happy Sunday guys, best of luck to you all. And most importantly, chupa la piña.

Fucking tgirls
DL M 150 6'0 7" bbc with girth 24 years old long story I usually use this page to jerk so I might aswell help out 100% real life
I fucked my first tranny at 18 I used to jerk off to a lot of porn from a young age and even got to shemale porn. I lost my virginity to a girl but I was just very horny at that age one day downloaded Grindr scrolled for a while but got distracted went and got high at a friends house and took a few shots aswell hanging out with buddies. I went to the bathroom opened my phone opened Grindr and saw a pretty Latina tgirl and I messaged her. Not a long convo she gave me an address and I left my friends telling them I'm done for the night. I pick up the tranny and she has a tight skirt on smooth thighs and nice ass I was already getting hard leaving her apartment. I park up in the next apartment and we hop in the back seat I already have a completely hard dick cause to me I basically had Jane Marie in the back of my car with me. She is playing with my dick sucking it getting her lipstick everywhere but she keeps answering her phone I think it was her boyfriend calling her. I see her ass and decided to fuck but between the condom and it being my first time I keep getting soft and she is too tight for my soft dick. I stop focusing on her asshole and just feel her body her soft ass and her nice hair with blonde streaks. I get hard and inside and her moans got me so hard I fuck the shit outta her she moans load as hell.(she keeps stopping to text this man in all caps and in Spanish ). After wards I take her to McDonald's and I wasn't even shy at the window cause she looked like a girl so much She gave me her number but I lost it never went back at that time I didn't know how much of a gem she was lol
My second time was off of Grindr again this time a older tranny she was also Latina but heavier then me big ass and tits and she was older 40+ hopefully not 60 lol. I fucked her the first time for free but after I got her number she kept making me pay but I liked her so used to never mind. One time she didn't answer her number and I was so horny I knocked on her door she opened it and said No! I pointed at my pocket I got money and she was mad but let me in. I followed her into the kitchen she was cooking and I put 60$ on her table and started grabbing her ass pulling out my dick and kissing her neck like usual. She said no fuck. I kept kissing her neck and then her mouth she kept saying no fuck I was very hard and she felt it on her ass . I start sucking her big tits doing anything to get her horny and she pushes my head down to her ass I never ate ass before. I had no choice started kissing it and got my tounge in there eventually got really into it and started jerking until I came on her kitchen floor she played in my cum with her feet and then rubbed it all over my clothes I licked her feet she was so experienced she knew exactly what she was doing I stood up kissed her so hard and really just hugged her I still miss that one
Over the years I used some escort websites to find some but I never paid over 100$ I make sure when I'm talking on the phone I flirt with them calling them baby so they get interested and in person I give them a little cash and start the process quick and most of them fold cause I'm in pretty good shape or they wanna smoke some weed with me if I offer them. I've done it probably like 5 times.
Last story I was in Chicago for work not my home state . I found a black tranny online and went to her hotel. I was very high smoked right before I went to her so I was on edge very paranoid of any funny business and Chicago is a rough city.I found her in the lobby and I was surprised she kinda looked like a girl. We get to her room and I give her 40$ and try to grab her ass make her horny she denies me and tells me 200$. No way was I paying that so I just keep flirting trying to make her horny and she is hard to beat keeps touching my pockets. She had a school girl skirt on while sitting on the wall of the bed she lifts her skirt up. I see a floppy 7 inch black cock with shaved pubeses and a belly ring on a flat stomach. I slowly dive across the bed and for the first time suck a dick she knew exactly what she was doing after only 30 seconds she pushed me off and says she wants her money. I hop off the bed and my dick somehow was already out. I start jerking watching her and when she sees my big dick she starts stroking herself. Seeing her finally get horny I automatically cum. I zip up and leave cause I didn't trust this bitch and I heard something in the bathroom of the room I forgot to check. I literally came so hard across the room though she was like omg .

Hi apes,

Can you feel it? Its finally here, but its not really anything like what we thought, ITS BETTER! That said I know how unforgiving you are so ill start with my superstonk credentials . Its just a link to my first post here so you will know that I am a dumbass ape that thinks the orange crayons taste the best.
Even so i expect to get torn up but I cant stop thinking about this, however before we start.
___________________
To Mr Roaring Kitty,
I want to take a moment to thank Roaring Kitty for everything. You made us a family, made us money and most important of all you gave us hope, there really was none. Even if we fail it was worth every penny.
Personally I had just lost my mom from COVID. We were so poor she died alone in a rehab bed since the beds were full in the hospital. We could not see her since it was a secure facility, she was just, gone. So many of us lost.
That is when I met the apes, your apes, your movement, and then it became our movement.
Kitty, you will never have to buy another beer again in your life. That goes double for your wife who also must have had to endured some shit, from both friend and foe. Hi Mrs. Kitty.
You didn't have to do any of this and you have inspired me and others to change the world, with or without tendies. You are not alone, we are on your motherfucking left!
Your Hamms is on us! Cheers!
________________________
APES I don't care if you do it here or anywhere but you let him know how grateful you are. You may copy paste the following "Thank you Roaring Kitty!".
alright so on with it, most of this is tin foil hat, but we are used to that.
Since we have so many new apes, many whom have felt the pain of being the victims of market manipulation this week, I will be defining things that are common knowledge for us Silverbacks.
all of this is, like my opinion man ok?
Disclaimer*:* Most everything I have learned of stocks I have learned with my fellow silverbacks. I am not a financial ANYTHING nor am I the algorithm Aladdin or the AI that reads these threads in order to change positions in the stock market. If you follow my advice you will end up naked in a small town in Mexico holding a banana in a moldy tortilla reciting Vogon poetry in Spanish pig latin (EFE)

WHATS WITH ALL THE MEMES FROM KITTY?

They are a genius move that do 2 things.
1- The Memes give us hints into what the plan is that cannot be stopped at the same time circumventing AI and the ALADDIN algorithm that reads these posts and adjusts the shorts position accordingly. While simultaneously making everyone ask "is it him?" this is called plausible deniability. Aladdin controls 70% of the market and is controlled at least laterally by a shithead named kenny, we don't like kenny, but he is irrelevant now.
2- The Memes are also a trap for the shorts who are thinking in an archaic way, spending literally billions to keep the price down using Synthetic shares. Maximizing the payoff by making them borrow more shares from us!
SEE GENIUS!
WAS E.T. HIS LAST POST?
You think a gangster like kitty goes out with a whimper like ET?

• V FOR VENDETTA (meme) the music is in overture.
• Run forest run, (meme) on a bridge 3/4 of the way over. Also a bridge is capital that you use to acquire businesses.
• 741 is everywhere which means the document filed for the 45 million shares and the possible use to exchange in stock for stock trade. also i saw the number 14.7 somewhere in there, percentage?

The last meme will be wonderous I expect nothing less from the man himself.
Selling him short like that, Shame on you!
But honestly I don't know.

WHAT IS A SYNTHETIC SHARE? WTF IS A DARKPOOL?

Synthetic shares, in the context of "seller boxing" and dark pool trading, refer to financial instruments that replicate the economic effects of owning actual shares without representing real equity ownership in a company. These shares are created through derivatives like options, swaps, or other financial instruments. When combined with seller boxing and dark pool trading, synthetic shares can play a significant role in market manipulation strategies. Here’s how this process generally works:
Seller Boxing Explained: Seller boxing is a strategy used to suppress the price of a stock by overwhelming the market with sell orders, often without actual stock changing hands. This keeps the stock price artificially low and can create a negative perception of the stock's value, making it unattractive to potential buyers.
Dark Pools Explained: Dark pools are private exchanges or forums for trading securities, not accessible by the public. They are often used by institutional investors to make large trades without exposure.
To KISS : Synthetic shares are just that, fake. But they important how we are going to the fucking moon, its how we are going to get paid. Last week a massive amount of dark pool synthetic shares were used.
At this moment you should understand that if the price is fake, and even buying at the tippy top last week is still a good bet, when MOASS happens.

OK SO WHEN IN THE FUCK IS MOASS?

According to the memes within a few weeks, be zen there is a plan.
This is the part where I get crucified by my fellow apes, and I am happy to take my licks.
I Believe that if MOASS could happen on the open "fair" market it would have in 2021 and again last week.
I believe that the only way to have MOASS is away from Aladdin, halts and dark pools. we must completely be out of the bog of eternal stench.
THE WORLD saw first hand last week, and it was maybe even for our benefit, that MOASS cannot happen in the fair market exchange with halts and the opposition illegal tactics.
So either GME cleans up the entire system that was created to work against us and take our homes, businesses and lives. Or we see what's in the box. (couldn't find the kitty "seven" meme)
I think that Kitty and the gang know this and we are all getting our tendies in a different way and Its bigger than we ever thought possible, BEAR with me please.

How would you communicate if anything you said was used against you? Ever had to prove you are human?

You see Aladdin and its bitch Ais ( I'm talking to you Aladdin, fuck you) can't understand memes, A computer does not know why Dickbutt is funny. SO the hedgies have weaponized social media against us with bots and AI. Anything you say or do is a product they can use against you, your words have value and sometimes determine what happens to your favorite stock.
Hence the Kitty Aladdin Meme
"They are fast but I am faster" Aladdin is the bad guy here. Go watch it again. "all you got to to is jump".
IF MOASS CANT HAPPEN ON THE fair MARKET THEN WHY ARE YOU SO HANDSOME AND CHIPPER?
Because of genetics and the filing of a document (prospectus supplement) and the EARLY preliminary earnings report.
It is not very common that earnings reports are released early. Very much less common that they are released early WITH A LOSS.
There was a big chunk of money "missing" "lost", where did it go?
Well put on your tin hat as this is what keeps me up at night.
KITTY/GME/TEDDY HOLDINGS/? wanted us to put together that they are creating a huge holding company conglomerate and we will be in it trading our shares for something that is shielded from the market manipulation of Aladdin.
The "missing" money is a hint along with the filing. The "LOSS" on the earnings report had the wonderful effect of triggering the algo to kick into gear and short the shit out of our beloved GME.
THIS MADE THE HEDGIES HIT THE LOWEST PRICE THEY COULD MAXIMIZING PROFIT GAINS FOR THOSE OF US NOT CHEATING THE SYSTEM
They used their own algorithm against them to put another nail in the coffin. I still am in shock from the move, bravo!!!
So what's it all mean?
I believe that Gmerica/TEDDY HOLDINGS (and others) has already been created, that the "missing" money was used in the deals. These were probably set in motion years ago, and cannot be stopped now.
For every 1 GameStop share, they'll get 4 of Another company they made the deal with. And for every 4 GameStop shares, they'll get 7 of say Shit, shower and shave shares, for example. (a real possibility, if you know you know)
This happens between companies attempting to purchase each other using stock as the currency.
As for the holders they will likely get to swap out their shares for the shares in the new massive holding company.
I think that we will be trading our stocks in for shares with blockchain attached and we will be shielded from market manipulation. (tin foil straight up guess)
Lets say this happens and they give a dividend. That would trigger THE MOTHERFUCKER OF ALL SHORT SQUEEZES. the MFOASS™
Oh and to get really APE kicked in the face here, since we would no longer need to lock the float to prove to some bought worthless politician, that they are doing something illegal DRS becomes less important. I say this having another 200 shares headed to the purple circle so be gentle.
Since they create shares from nothing then it does not matter how many are Street named.
I still say buy, hodl, DRS. but read the prospectus supplement. If I'm right it does not matter what you broker you use, you are in.
Add in the new CAT (consolidated audit trail) system although still controlled by shitheads and we have ourselves more than a few tendies. Which jives with GME and kitty not leaving any ape behind, not a one. I think the leaning forward meme is when it became active.
WHAT IS THE BEST PART?
The best part is that the companies that would comprise this conglomerate will include SSSY, Lego, Chewy, sax 5th ave and many others (in the memes) and it would rival amazon. Only less heartless and possibly even a decent wage.
Many of the stores that we would have in the holding companies were shorted into oblivion by the very assholes that we are revolting against.
Sweeet Sweet JUSTICE!
.... what I am saying is that...
oooo look a penny...
QH
On your left.
EDITED for her pleasure.

Ok so basically my year 9 EOY tests have just finished and I fucked up big time. For biology i got 64% physics 73% and chemistry 48%. I really tried studying the stuff we learnt but a lot of it was stuff we have rarely ever seen.
For my language Spanish it was a multiple choice reading test. This test was very difficult as my fellow peers said but some of the really dumb ones got extremely lucky and got 30 out of 45 and more meanwhile, I got a 16/45.
I am in the middle set for english and i fucked up the poem analysation test and got a 7/15 because I read the question wrong.
The only thing I didnt royally screw up was math were i got 85% and 92% on the two tests.
I have been really de-motivated and I really hope these don't go on my record. Just so you know I started studying the week before these tests.
Is there anything I can do better next time or any study habitats I should learn? And do these tests affect anything about my college application or anything?
Thanks for reading :)

Hey! I’m a 23y/o soon-to-be college graduate! I’m here looking for someone to form a good genuine connection with. I attend school in FL, so it’d be nice to meet ppl in FL but idc where you are as long as the connection we make is good :)
Some of my interests consists of playing video games (just got a pc so I’ll take any recommendations), listening to music, watching/playing basketball, and photography/videography. I hope one day to share these interests with you! (I know my interests are very vague but we can get to know each other more in DM’s)
I would describe myself as an introverted extrovert. I speak Spanish. I’m pretty Athletic. I’m funny conversationally. And I know how to solve a Rubik’s cube in about a minute or less
My looks: I have wavy black hair, brown eyes, some piercings, some tattoos, and I have a pretty average build
I want to find someone who’s as interested in me as much as I am in them. I’m a very flirtatious guy, so I’m kinda hoping you are too. I’m looking for that flirtationship to lovers type vibe. I would eventually like to know what you look like because I believe physical attraction is as important as much as emotional attraction. also PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE help carry a conversation. Im a pretty busy person but if you show me that you ACTUALLY like talking to me and I see the effort, I will always ALWAYS make time for you. Communication is super big for me so I’ll always say how I feel and what I think. At the end of the day I just want someone I can talk to about my day and have a really good conversation (can be a call too!) Also THIS doesn’t have to be a romantic relationship, I’m also down to have platonic relationships too. Make sure your intentions are clear from the beginning! Emotional maturity is always attractive!❤️‍🔥
(Don’t just say “hey” or “hi” tell me a juicy secret or something. If this interests you send me a brief intro and a selfie. Prob won’t respond if you’re response is low effort…🫣)
Alright love you bye (say it back pls 🔫)

Throwaway because some of the people in this story know my real reddit.
I (25M) am married. My wife (28F) and I are separated, and will probably, eventually, divorce. She lives in the Midwest, I live in New York. She's close (geographically) to her parents, I'm an immigrant and all the people I love live so far away they may as well be on the moon. My likely soon-to-be ex-wife and I have a decently good relationship - there wasn't any big fighting before the split. She just didn't like me anymore. According to herself, she still cares a lot about me and wants to see me do well and be happy. She wants us to remain friends, but plainly I don't fucking want to. It makes me violently sick to my stomach to imagine myself bearing witness to the woman I loved getting together with some other dude, no matter how much she says she "doesn't think about it in terms of betteworse, just 'right' for her". This is important context.
I have a good career making alright money (enough to live on, at least - not many luxuries) in probably the most prestigious institution of its kind in the US. I graduated from a meh university in a field I never intended to work in. I'm not anything special at my job, just an office drone that occasionally plans events for my section of the company, but it's a hell of a thing to put on a resume. I don't have many friends here in NY outside of my cubicle buddy - lots of acquaintances that I make at the bar every time I go, because people love me when I'm wasted and funny, but nobody that stuck around after I stopped drinking for fitness reasons. I live in a tiny bedroom in an apartment shared with 4 people. I don't go out to save money. I occasionally engage with my hobby, which is scale models of military stuff, but lately I've had little will to do so. I spend close to 1/4 of my salary on a personal trainer, because I can't get the idea out of my head that my ex dumped me for not being hot enough, and I spend two hours every morning before work and three hours on Saturday at the gym, which is basically my main hobby right now. All this is to say, I'm a vain boring guy with no friends stuck in a shitty office job.
I wasn't like this when I was younger. I went to every party back in my hometown. Every time I visited on Spring Break or Summer people would fall over themselves to invite me to parties, when I left for college at 18 something like 200 people got together to burn an effigy of me as a big joke farewell. I was somebody. Every time I used to talk about this to my STB ex, she would get this look on her face like I was telling her I used to do heroin and crack. She's very proper, very ladylike, very respectable. I used to do keg-stands and break into abandoned water parks to smoke weed and graffiti the walls. I also come from a respectable family, so I had triple pressure between my parents and my sister and her to become an upstanding member of society. So now I don't do any of the shit that used to make me happy, and I'm no longer with the person who used to make me happy. It's not even like I can go back to doing that, either - my alcohol tolerance plummeted, I get bad hangovers since I turned 23, and I just don't really *feel* like it anymore.
My best friend back home and I were military otaku. We were always going off about how we'd join the French Foreign Legion together, or the Spanish Legion, or whatever mercenary army would take us. Back then I was out of shape so it was a pie in the sky dream, literally teenage bullshit. My best friend recently lost his long term girlfriend to leukemia, and he called me to tell me he's going to go enlist in the Spanish Legion. I knew he was telling me because he wants me to go with him. The way I am now I could absolutely crush the physical portion of enlistment and being that I have no criminal record and a college degree, the other requirements are taken care of. Absolute worst case scenario, this being the military, I get shot or blown up and die or end up disabled. Best case scenario, I survive the tour and get to live in Spain, with a nice climate, people of a familiar and less friendless culture, and lots of cultural things I like to do. Compared to here, even if I have no friends over there, I could at least go watch my favorite football team play on a regular basis.
Every time I've told my family that I want to go back home, they freak out, because they think I have the perfect life, making shitloads of money working in a super-prestigious office, helping the needy, in the "world capital", so I know that if they found out that I ditched all of that to go march around in tight green pants for a flag that isn't even mine they'd likely disown me. My stb ex-wife also would probably freak out. They all think I have such a great life, that this was all a great opportunity and that I'm living the dream, and yet I'm miserable and lonely and literally purposeless. I just wake up every Monday and go put in a shift at a place I couldn't give less of a shit about and go home to do nothing except play FIFA and chat with my guys on Discord. If I just fucking die over there, I don't have to see my ex build her life without me. I thought Midwest-New York would be enough miles. It isn't. If I leave, I would just get rid of all my devices and tell my friends back home to tell my sister, who would probably filter it to everyone. I want to just disappear and be unreachable so I don't have to hear about their happy lives ever again.
Would I be the asshole if I ditch this supposedly perfect life to follow my friend into the military of a country that isn't ours in a completely different continent? Would I be the asshole for rejecting the "opportunity" to live the way I live?

I wasn’t a hardcore fan back then, but I definitely listened to her songs everyday, bought merch, got tour tickets…stopped being a fan after the whole Matty thing.
Just my theory and opinions here.
I think she did love her relationship with Joe, they did have great years. Then who knows what, probably the reconnected back with Matty, the new rush made her feel like “that’s what I really want! My soulmate!”, she was probably over Joe right away.
It’s disgusting to me that, even though she’s the one moved on right away, she still had to “win” this breakup. Had all her friends unfollow Joe, all those acting moments during the tour, happily enabling fans to attack her ex.
Then MH is over then Travis arrived. Like many said before, she likes the feeling of in love. I think she doesn’t know that part anymore, surrounded by yes men, ass kissing “friends”, even there’s love it’s not as attractive as being worshipped. After all, love comes with honesty and equality.
But one thing she knows is hate. She holds a grudge so long, even people like me (I consider myself hard to let things go) are weird out by her.
A friend of mine once said, “yeah I know she’s popular she’s pretty, but I feel like there’s nothing real about her, like, what does she actually enjoy doing?”
TTPD is so boring. Big words don’t mean poems. Big words sad vibe talking about some guy, always about guys, my god there are more than just men in this world. Always the victim, never the “maybe I am somewhat responsible”. Idk, it’s not very relatable when a billionaire white woman talks about things.
Also fans comparing her influence with Beatles and MJ. People can immediately all go “na-na-na-na-na” with Hey Jude, Thriller plays during Halloween and crowds feel it right away. That’s influence. I’ve been to many events/parties, when a crowd is mixed with all different ages, songs like Dancing Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody play, everyone just join, it’s like a spell lol.
One more thing, it’s funny how she sings about men missing their chance to true love by not staying with her…come on…

4 years together. 2 living together. I loved him. He didn’t feel the same way I guess. 18 days since we’ve broken up no contact.
fuck you for not answering me. fuck you for leading me on. fuck you. fuck you for getting that one last fuck in. fuck you for letting me believe we were still gonna be friends. fuck you for being okay. fuck you. fuck you flr never defending me. fuck uou for everything you did during the relationship. fuck you. fuck you. i was never going to be enough for you. i was never going to be what you so dreamed of. no matter what i was never going to be it for you? you were it for me. fuck you for pretending like you loved me. fuck you for letting me believe a lie for years. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you for not moving to Victoria. never ballsy enough to end it but to let me live in misery. fuck you for being miserable with me. fuck you nathan. i hope one day you see this and think about how much you miss me. i hope you think back and realized that i loved you so hard and raw. i hope you realize what you did. i would’ve never slept with you or stayed with u for that night knowing you had no intention of continuing it. fuck you. fuck you. you let me believe you still loved me. you let me have hope for having you in my life. fuck you for everything you did. fuck you for letting me love you. fuck you for the way you handled this breakup. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you for never being there for me. fuck you for letting me cry myself to sleep next you to after i got diagnosed. i made you dinner after i got literal chemo. i had spots on my brain. you didn’t even hold me after. you were not there for me. you let me sob and didn’t even look me in hen eye. fuck you. fuck you. i tried to be a cool girl with you. I will never be cool enough. did i ever mean anything to you? was i just a body to keep you company? how can you just be fine? fuck you for wrecking my college experience. fuck you for pretending to love me. how could you love me and still be okay? fuck you for not wishing me a happy birthday. fuck you for never being vulnerable. fuck you for letting me believe i was worth anything to you. fuck u for becoming this twisted villain. i wish i could go back and erase you. i wish you never dated me. i would never have to feel like this. i would never have to be this alone. fuck uou for not trying. i begged you to love me. i begged to be enough. i sobbed to you BEGGING for a change. i beg and beg and beg and you never verbalized anything. i made you love letters, playlists, poems. i planned our future. you played video games. i am pretty, fun, funny. i am kind. i am a good person, and you destroyed me. do you hear me telling you that? you wrecked me. you took my spark and ate it. you took my beauty and stomped on it. you never said or with your words but your actions. i was worthless to you. i wasn’t even worth making dinner or a date. i wasn’t worth dinner to you. I would’ve been your wife. I would’ve been your wife. I would’ve been your wife. do you hear that? i would’ve started a life with you. actually, i did! i derailed my life for someone who couldn’t even make me fucking dinner. do you feel like a man now? do feel like one of the boys now? fuck you. how can i be friends with a man that so blanatly doesn’t care about me? respect me? did you ever? and now you’re gonna go on and paint me the villain, but i think we both know how hard i loved you. remember when i asked you if you thought we were soulmates? you said you didn’t believe in soulmates. neither did i but my love for you was so intense i started too. your love for me was so dull you can just throw me away. i fell so madly in love with you for so long and you thought i was just fine. i was nothing to you. i was just to keep you company? better than being alone? the most sick and twisted part is i do wish you the best. i want you to live a good life and fall in love and feel so much love. i want you to be okay, just wish you could’ve missed me like i miss you. if only for a little while i wish you couldve loved me like i loved you. i want you to have a wife and kids and the life you deserve, i just wish it could’ve been me. i wish i could’ve been enough for you. you loved me like a first love, but you weren’t my first, just my best. this was puppy love for you, but this was soul crushing intense love for me. you’re never supposed to read this, so if you are i on a whim decided to send it. you can take it however you want. you can paint me however you see fit, but just so you know i loved (love) you. i still crave your skin, your mind, your hair. i think i might forever. you hurt me. you hurt me so deep. i feel used. maybe im angry, or depressed, or maybe i just feel disgusted by how much of myself i gave you. you told me we would continue to see each other after (if only to be friends, or maybe more) but you looked me in the eyes and promised we would still see each other, so we had sex. so i continued to be vulnerable with you. but you never intended to stay friends with me or continue hanging out. you just wanted one last fuck. we had sex better than we have in months. is it because you knew it would be the last time? when you dropped off my stuff you kept the car running. im not even worth it to stop a minute? im not worth a hug goodbye? im completely worthless to you. you never even listened to the playlist i made you. how could i expect you to love me? how could i expect you respect me? how could i expect anything at all? i don’t know how to be a person anymore. you never looked at the posts i sent you. you never wanted to go out. you never wanted me. you never wanted me. you never wanted me. i don’t understand how you can just be ok. im sick to my stomach. everytime something happens i just want to call you. i just want to hear ur voice. i just want to see your face. i know you never want to see me again and it’s so hard. the worst part is i don’t hate you at all. i love you so much. why didn’t you love me? how am i ever going to be okay again? how am i ever going to live with this constant pit in my stomach. how can you not want me back? how can you possibly be ok right now? why wasn’t i good enough for you? how are you still laughing and being funny and having a good time? why didn’t you wish me a happy birthday? why don’t you miss me ? why don’t you miss me? why don’t you miss me?

So me and my best friend have been well friends for about a month. In that time I've always was willing to help her with school work, be someone to talk and ask for advice, and just try and make her happy and more confident in herself. Id write her poems and draw her pictures to show her how much I care. I'd be nice and sweet to her. She would be their for me to talk to and have fun and have goofy conversation with.
She's really the only person I trust and the person I can really talk to. Hell she saved my life and stopped me from starving myself. We both say we love each other as friends and we tell each other good morning and good night everyday. We both really care and trust each other. We even started to fake sexting to tell ppl we are dating just to troll for giggles. We even Talk about living with each other and I told her that she could and is a part of my family, even if my family doesn't know it.
I always tell her that I will protect her and take care of her and help her. She says she's happy and thankful for me and the stuff I want to give her and what I do give her. And I think like her. She talk about her ex a lot which I don't like and other stuff about male parts which makes me uncomfortable.. My friend told me that she told him that she's thinks I'm smart, nice, funny, kind, sweet and very talented. But she also said that I'm not her type. She told him if I do like her that she wouldn't want to hurt me.
I want to tell her how I feel about how she can make me very uncomfortable and how I like her. But I'm scared something bad will happen and I don't really know how. I'm scared the way I take it is going to ruin what we have. I'm also scared she's gonna misread me and thing something that's not actually happening. Please help me out here.

I (M17) am classmates with and sit with these two guys in my Spanish class and they’re pretty funny and make a lot of jokes and stuff and I’ll make some jokes with them too and we give each other a great laugh. But more recently they’ve been talking about the LGBTQ+ and they’ve been saying shit like “I wish homosexuality was still classified as a mental illness. It was a mistake to make it legal.” Or things like “We need to bring bullying back to bully gay people.” Or “How the fuck can a dude be gay? When you’re a man you should see a woman and only be attracted to that.” Or “People who are gay are satanists.” I’ve kind of pretended to go along with it or just say nothing to it, but it’s really getting to the point where I just wanna say “Shut the fuck up!” and slap them in the face. But of course with me being closeted still, I’m worried of being shunned away or them possibly being homophobic towards me and throw insults and slurs at me and whatever. What would you guys do?

My Dad is bringing up a very important word,
"No"
Actually, I think that was his favorite word.
I had a great habit of using it when I was under his roof. What he said is usually what happens first. He was the head of the house and the leader of his own reality. When he was intoxicated or not, what he saw and thought in his mind came to life, even when it never took place in real time.
Why did I give him so much respect when he clearly was showing me toxicity in our relationship at home?
He pretended to be a person of high stature when we are in public. No one would have guessed his bad habits with substances at home and the way he acted behind closed doors. When I reached out for emotional support at school or church, I was mostly shunned by anyone that listened to my story. They taught me that my feelings were wrong and asking for help gets me in trouble. When I told my mom anything, she was busy at work and came home tired. She trusted everything my father would tell her and I got in trouble for speaking out for his behavior. I was kept at home and if anything that could get me out of the house was already planned to be declined if I asked to do anything.
It was hard to please anyone at this point.
I kept my room spotless and vacuumed everyday, just so my dad couldn't say no and tell me to clean my room if I had a friend standing next to me wanting to hang out.
I had one friend in my life that saw my father for who he really is and he scared her pretty bad. He chased me to her car when I was trying to leave my house, he was on oxy at the time. My friend hesitated and kept the car in the driveway and told me to go do what he said. I wanted her to drive as fast as she could away from him, because he took the battery out of my car and I couldn't leave to be with Suz.
Well, after that incident, I lost my friend. She told her parents what happened and she broke all contact with me and stopped talking to me at church. Rumors went around and her mom I sang with on stage started to be disrespectful towards me.
I learned a valuable lesson that day....
When you feel safe enough to speak out and let someone see your true self, you scare people away.
When I trusted someone, I was abandoned when they saw my life for what it is.
The truth was hard to swallow and I had to stay around my father regardless of trying to find help in some form of way I felt heard. I tried to be emancipated, I went to church and sought out resources, I researched about how to prevent suicidal tendencies, I was speaking to a child psychologist. I was working on being more respectful towards my parents, but when my dad got high and made up stories to be angry and attack me. I had no way to protect myself and prove that it was just my father being an addict going through a psychotic episode.
This is why the Lord forced me into psychology.
I didn't want anything to do with it! (Working in a psych ward.... It sucked.)
Suz was the first person to really allow me to learn how to understand it with her version of explaining reality. She is a psychic medium. A very good one! She was very outspoken, rude and funny.... I can take the hard criticism. Nothing amounted to the trauma my father already caused me to feel. I survived high school band.... My director was exactly like my father and I was verbally abused at school by certain individuals.
I kept it all to myself and I planned very strategically my way to "heaven". I kept a journal on purpose for someone to find later. I wrote about everything I was feeling and how I was being treated, my poems, other interesting facts about spirituality, death and dying.
Suz taught me how to have a "book of shadows"..... Well, she is a witch..... It shouldn't be scary when I say that, she was a very proud "light witch". She only worked for the good of humanity. Christianity shuns such practices, but it really is part of the culture before religion became a thing. She taught me so many things that my Dad made me swear I would never get involved in.....
My Dad went into psychology after he decided he wasn't going to be a pastor. His past marriage was a major roadblock for him that he lost faith in God and didn't feel it was right for him to lie on stage to other believers when he wasn't being honest about his own walk in faith anymore.
A divorce would literally kill my soul. I can't imagine what betrayal feels like until you promise your life in vows to someone and it doesn't work out....My Dad made sure to show me that marriage is a special connection and I had to be very cautious who I accept as my spouse. I never forgotten how important it was for him to see me with the right man, but he was so overprotective, he never allowed me to learn how to date or even go to a school dance.
I blame the drugs for interfering in our relationship as a family. My Father was a very smart man, until he took a pill, shot up, or drink... My dad worked in anesthesia, he knew how to mix his own concoction and by pass the system to get his fix. He was forced to retire don't worry, but his knowledge to get drugs was phenomenal all that he knew about medicine.
It really sucked that he knew psychology and ways to manipulate people to get what he wanted. He was a very skilled hypnotherapist on top of that. My family is the result of a head narcissist raising more products of himself.
If you see my family now, we are estranged for good reasons, but they still hurt me personally. I really tried to keep us together after my father passed away, but the rest of my family chose to ignore my advances to keep in contact. I'm not even invited to the family reunions.
It's okay, because we have a lot of family history of incest and "S.A." and I understand why we are not invited.... I know a lot of things about our family after my father passed away. I know why he turned to be a pastor and then went in psychology to help himself and others, but then he lost his way and turned to drugs to mask his pain. The enemy stepped in and my Dad gave into his weaknesses..... He tried and he fought hard. Even when he attacked me my whole life. I still sat there and listened to him and I was forced to listen and not leave the room, but then God showed me to talk back to my Dad.....
So, I started to read more about the Bible and relate to him.
That's why I went to church...
I went to church 4 times a week to get away from the house, but to also just understand why I want to end my life and know that I would go to heaven if I actually tried it.....I was worried about my Mom and how my actions would affect her, she was a big reason why I stalled my plans and then my Dad had this wise idea to get me to work at a mortuary. Told me to walk into one and ask for a job.
Crazy how I jump topics all of a sudden, but this is how my Dad and I got along with each other. Weird and comical. lol
If it wasn't about music, it was about spirituality. I was into a lot of death related shows because I was suicidal. If you remember any of these, they came out around the time I was in high school.
Six Feet Under
Dead Like Me
Dr. G Medical Examiner
1000 Ways to Die
Ghost hunters
Crime Scene Clean Up Crew shows.
I would walk in the dining room while he was chillin in his hospital bed. Watching Finding Big Foot.
"Hey DAD! check this out."
It was a nice distraction to his day. It brought up his own fears with common daily interactions because of my odd obsession with the topic of dying.
My father at this point in his cancer diagnosis, he was on something they call,
Palliative care.
My mom explained to me that it means he was going to die. Lovely how blunt my mother is, but that's how she said it without sugar coating it....
But it was in a way it would be under his terms. My father at this point died once while receiving radiation therapy. His heart stopped and was revived. When he woke up angry and violent towards at the medical team. He yelled at my mom that he was ready to "go". So, after that incident he got the right person to sign him up for his new journey to his death.
That was a weird way of telling you what palliative care is, but that's how I found out and understood that he had a "DNR" to his name after that incident. Sometimes he was in a hospice home for a few months to give us a break at home dealing with his drama.
My Dad was surrounded by death, so it made me really research death and dying very deeply. I was afraid for anyone to see the books I read because they were about taboo topics you shouldn't see a teenager obsessing over. Death and dying, crossing over, letting go of loved ones, suicide survivors, decomposition of human remains, the death process, how a body is embalmed, what medical examiners while cutting open a corpse.
Then I got into the spiritual side of things that involve the devil and crossing over. How to avoid walking back towards hell when you are deceived by dark forces. How to fight your inner hell and not be trapped in that mindset when you are passing away.
I would have the craziest dreams after learning about these topics. But in a weird way, all I wanted to do was sleep to escape my reality. I would talk to my Dad about the stuff I found about those topics and it helped him be closer to me as a father. Something my little brother doesn't understand and ridiculed about me when he criticized my relationship with him. He had his own way to being with Dad, but my way, was with deeper meaning and serious topics. Stuff only Dad and I knew what that meant. It wasn't supposed to make sense to my mom or brother the special talks we had when he was in pain laying in bed.
I showed my Dad the other side to life....
I helped my Dad not be afraid to die, and do it with dignity and strength.
I helped my Dad understand that his addictions didn't ruin our connection as father and daughter and that I wanted to forgive him for his past before he died. He really appreciated my understanding that the drugs turned him into a different person, but inside of him, God was always there. My father told me, because of me, I allowed him to find love for God again and he was closer to his Mom because I showed him to not be afraid of my friend Suz.
That my friend wasn't evil and she taught me so much about angels and spirits, he was learning about them because I had the best mentor in the world. She helped me find my relationship with my Dad, that brought me to be closer to God and because I learned about God in a metaphysical way, I helped myself grow in my own understanding to where I wasn't going to end my life.
I found a reason to live even through the pain of watching the enemy run through my family and take away everyone and everything that means something to me.....
(I would like to post this, but I know it's not ready. I have so much to say and I know my story will help someone else not be afraid.)
I am still writing my story.
This is the book I was supposed to write about....
The one about death and dying.
Not about my background in psychology.
*That is a message for someone else. hint hint... That is your topic to write about. I hope you receive that message with understanding and go forth wisely. You asked me to remind you, so I am, quietly...
I am working with others in a way the Lord leads me.
It takes up my energy from writing and I have to prioritize what is more important. When it comes to someone's transition. I feel led to help someone cross over. I've done this since I was a child. No one taught me to understand how I do this. I also dream about meeting certain individuals and speak to them about life and death, God allows me to remember my dreams and I share them with the people it is about.
Most times, God will send people to talk to me and then I learn about them dying or having a terminal illness that is difficult to get through. That is where I am reminded of my life with my father and my jobs in the medical field and bring up all that I learned about death, dying, spirituality, religion, crossing over, eastern medicine, etc....
Then I become friends, or we have nice conversations that are very engaging and healing in general. I am later told that I have helped them in some way and they are happy to have met me. Then my dad shows up in my presence and shows me how I am doing what I am supposed to and to trust my gut feelings from now on. He promised me when he was alive, he was always going to be by my side and teach me about life.
Now I finally understand what he meant by that and I now that I know how to
"Listen with my HEART"
That is how he spoke to his mom before he crossed over. I taught him how and he was able to go deeper with it since his soul was ascending and leaving the physical body. The dream state plays a big part of crossing over and communicating with loved ones. That is where my gifts come into play. I am sensitive enough to feel him and learn his lessons that he encourages me to write it all down.
I'm not the writer I wish to become yet, but as long as it's getting out there for someone to find, that's all that matters.
Don't forget to realize that we are all dying. Don't allow your diagnosis or reality to have you feel stuck in misery until you die. Don't allow the pain and confusion to stop you from gaining understanding to the karma you're experiencing.Being a medium for me has been traumatizing, because I had to earn my way to understanding. I had to experience hell in order to seek solitude and want to create peace with my sanity and not let the forces around me cause me to go insane. I went "within" so I can heal my trauma and know what triggers me to thinking about the negative side to things.
That is all the enemy fighting with you spiritually.
When we die, we lose our vessel, not our spirit.
We are the spirit having the human experience.
This isn't forever.
Thank God for that!
Pain does end, but learn what the pain wants to teach you about life around you. You will help someone else with your story when you're meant to cross paths.
Everyone in your life is there to teach you something.
Are you ready for the lesson?
Are you ready to understand your lesson?
So, it's crazy how I end up writing these posts, but they are all for a reason that I don't understand right now, but I'm doing as I'm told.
I'm not afraid of death, I'm not afraid of anyone stalking me because I speak of life in a way no one else has, because this is my story.
I don't know why I wrote it this way before I got here.
My destiny, I mean.....
I know my purpose now and of all the things I pushed away in my life, God forced me to go back into it and learn more about myself. The things I didn't want to face and be reminded about my Dad.... I just want to live my life in peace. I didn't want to think about my past love, but I meet people that remind me of my life back home and that person in particular.....
So, it's all hitting at once. It's a slow process, my father has been gone for 11 years now. I'm getting the hang of it now...... Writing this isn't a race for me, the lessons are exciting to finally understand why I went through them, but again.... Time helps me explain things better when I see it in a different perspective. I couldn't have accomplished that goal until I went through the pain and worked on my character to change my outcomes to my problems. I had to change myself first.
I hope those that are part of this journey with me understand that I am only putting out there tools to help them succeed.
I'm not going out of my way to create another trauma bond or narcissistic injury towards anyone. I love them very much and I want them to work on themselves and gain abundance correctly, not with the use of black magic and occult practices.
That's another story for another day. Suz wants them to know that she was in my life to warn me about my lessons in my future, but I can't run from them. I am here to learn lessons and teach others how to learn theirs.
That's all this is about.
Life is a stage, how do you want to play it?
I choose to grow and allow myself to see the positive to where I feel the emotion of bliss, love, joy and acceptance of all things coexisting together.
I be back soon,
I hope you have a nice weekend.
<3,
Tina,

I just want to vent. To be fair, I may be going through a period of mental unwellness.
• I am mixed southern indigenous/Ashkenazi Jew from my father. My mother is blond hair, blue eyed white. I lived in my fathers household until he surrendered me legally at 8. It was a multi generation household. My primary language was a mixture of native language and Spanish.
•My mother moved me to Alaska and had a white stepfather adopt me. Quickly after, they got divorced. She went to jail. She lost custody of me. He handed me to his sister to raise but ultimately I ended up in a home for youth and then homeless as an adult in a more rural area of Alaska etc etc a journey.
•I stopped speaking Spanish. I was introduced to physical punishments. My siblings, my grandma, my cousins were all gone.
•On top of the sadness of becoming disconnected and displaced, being the only person of color in a predominately white area made me feel targeted. My earliest memory of being targeted was running from a dirt road into the woods as a kid to get away from an old white guy in a truck.
•I dropped out of school once I hit 9th grade to have kids which I raised on my own. We lived in a van down by the river. I didn’t know why that was funny until I YouTubed the snl clip later in life.
•I had a white man drunkenly hold a gun to my face while calling me racial slurs. An alaskan native woman walking her dog saw and called the police. The white man told them he only smelled like alcohol because he was drinking earlier but no longer drunk. His gun was in his hand because he was walking it to his car. The police then told me they thought the native woman was intoxicated because they said she was slurring her words. She wasn’t. She spoke differently due to her Inuit language. The cops left without saying goodbye. I had to run.
•later, I tried leaving Alaska. I wasn’t prepared for the states. I got a job cleaning houses under the table. I had no daycare assistance so I had to take two of my babies with me to clean a house. A white person whom was a stranger to me broke in and strangled me in front of my kids. I fought for my life and won. It’s a crazy story- but ultimately it made more sense to me when I found out they had issues with the home owner. They were from Killeen Texas and had once worked in the police force- but were no longer employed by the police. The Colorado police did not help me when they showed up. They did not want to take pictures of my neck but I insisted. They did not ask me if I needed medical help. They refused to press charges, something about it needing to go to legal people first because they “couldn’t make a decision on what happened.” I left scratches all over the assailants face. Their eye was bleeding. I also put my hand in their mouth and tore their lip. They said I had jumped them and the police insinuated I was lucky to be walking away. I drove myself to the ER.
•I ran back to Alaska.
I think what I’m struggling with now, is being othered. The classic: I’m too white to go home. I’m too brown to exist here.
I made a poor attempt to talk openly about experienced racism on another platform, which has since been deleted and that’s fine- but was told that the racism I experienced was generous because I’m so white presenting. That “they thought you were a person of color?”
That’s frustrating. I think I’m so desperate to communicate and find healing bonds that I’m flailing.
I often feel like a non identifying creature who lives in a twilight between worlds where either side seems displeased that I exist
Lol I hate it here

Hello everyone so l'm originally from Puerto Rico and my girlfriend she was born here in the USA but her parents are from El Salvador she speaks both English and Spanish. Once I came here I was in high school and I had to learn English even though I already had knowledge of it I was still put in ELD (English language development) got level 4 when I first started. I had a lot of struggle learning it but I did. I work as a sign installer (construction) now so l'm most of the time with mix of Spanish people and English. I can communicate with everyone and have conversations easily in which I'm great full for that. My only problem is I have trouble reading it. I can speak it but when it comes to reading it on a book or paper I struggle badly. I told her to stop and she just kept laughing. When I told her I'm not playing like what she doing is rude she started answering
(Exact words she used) Ight. Ight. Shut up. Your acting like I can't speak Spanish. Tf It hurt me and bothered the fact that I told her it's not funny and she kept laughing and like it was disrespectful. I know this might sound dumb but it hurt the fact she didn't payed attention to my feelings and took it as a joke when I told her "I'm sorry I can't really read English, I have trouble with doing it" I'm sorry I just needed to vent. It took me years and I'm still learning it everyday & someone just laughed at me like that sorry but that's not cool..
TL;DR I honestly got mad and needed to vent is there something I should do?

We moved into this house 5.5 years ago. I'd never experienced anything 'paranormal' before. I was a hardcore sceptic. It was around 18 months later that I began to experience disturbing paranormal events I cannot explain no matter how much science I read. Note: I do not have a history of hallucinations or schizophrenia or anything, I was not smoking weed at the time nor on any other drugs. I was in my mid-twenties at the time. Help?
The first incident was on a November night at about 10:51 pm (almost all events happened between 10:51pm-2:00am but primarily between 11-1). For context, I'd spent the last hour playing Among Us and studying from a Spanish textbook. I would listen to relaxing jazz sometimes and drink some Jack Daniels (but was not drunk). I went to pee, my mind was focused on how clevefunny the games were and how I couldn't wait to get back to what I was doing. When I pulled my trousers up, a noise caught my attention. There was an Alberto Balsam shampoo bottle (about 1/3 or just under full) between the taps on the sink. It is a standard, British porcelain sink close to the toilet but to touch the bottle I would need to extend my arm, bending my elbow as I did that night was nowhere near close enough for contact. The bottle rocked far to the left, to the right, unnaturally, and repeated this motion about 5 times before it came to a standstill in its original position. It wasn't a small wobble, it was a slow, intentional rock side-to-side (the bottle should not have been able to rock so far to either side without falling over). My bathroom is tiny but I couldn't touch the bottle let alone cause it to rock the way it did. The window was closed, there was no breeze and nobody else in the room. I tried to replicate it another time by blowing hard on the bottle, flapping my arms and holding myself in the same position as when it happened but I could not touch/move the bottle. Even with generous leeway, I could not touch that bottle. In short: it wasn't me and it ruined my night. This incident terrified me.
A couple of days later, I was in the same bathroom washing my hands at about the same time at night when I experienced a sudden and intense sensation that something sinister was behind me staring at me. I looked up at the mirror and couldn't see anything behind me, but I felt something there. I was too afraid to move, I finished washing my hands after a minute or so, and when the feeling began to fade I left the bathroom. This became a regular occurrence. Particularly in the kitchen and bathroom, I felt something 'there' or that something was watching me and attempting to interact with me. The presence was somewhat imposing and dark. I couldn't see it. My partner didn't believe me when I told him about these incidents and would go to bed before me so he didn't witness them at first. I believed this presence was a 'man' and for a while thought it might've been the deceased elderly man who used to live here. He was placed in a care home aged 95 and was known as a nasty, horrible old man. The man passed away at some point, I'm not sure when but it was either during the incidents or towards the end of them.
Additionally, we had a living room carpet and as these incidents increased in frequency I began to hear something plucking at the carpet in the corner by the door. When I moved the curtain there was nothing there and the noise stopped. This is where my partner comes in because he stayed up later occasionally and he HEARD the noise. I didn't prompt him, I heard it and remained quiet until he picked up on it. I told him that was the noise I was hearing, he went to investigate and couldn't see anything. This is what made him suspicious too. We have a rabbit but checked on him, he was in his cage eating in the next room while the noises happened. Unless he could teleport, pluck the carpet before our eyes while invisible and teleport back into his cage- it wasn't him. Since then, I lifted the floor to see if anything could have plucked the carpet from beneath the floorboards. The floorboards are locked tight and it would've been impossible to touch the underside of the carpet or underlay.
This may be my mind manifesting fear, but I began to have horrible dreams about an old man with beady, shiny black eyes, a partially bald head and white hair in a forest (I recognised the layout from a forest far away in my hometown I used to ride a horse in). These dreams were disturbing and the men were not like ordinary people, I felt they were trying to toy with me before they k*lled me. One night I woke up to feel someone standing over me, another I woke up and briefly glimpsed black writing all over the wall on the landing. When I blinked it vanished. I was terrified and often felt something on the landing or in the room. I had no history of sleep paralysis before moving to this house. My partner told me he believed that whatever it was enjoyed scaring me and was feeding on my fear. I tried after this to not be afraid and to confront it, which worked to some degree.
One of the worst incidents was when I knew the 'man' was there, I felt him standing about 2 feet away from my computer chair. He liked to stand over me and sometimes breathe on me while I was gaming. I was playing World of Warcraft, I remember exactly what I was doing. I knew he was trying to get my attention and I ignored him. I forced myself to calm down. Then he moved closer and I heard a 'HUFF' as though someone breathed heavily through their mouth only inches from my ear. I took my headset off and looked round but the presence disappeared into the kitchen. I felt he wanted me to follow him, so I did. My attention was guided out of the window as though he was leading me there. I went to the window and looked out. I saw a shape out there that looked like an adult male of about 6ft wearing a grey hoodie and gloves standing near my back fence as though he'd just climbed over. Could I have been mistaken? yeah, but I tried to run from the window and ended up in freeze mode by the kitchen door. I couldn't move, I tried so hard to get away because I thought this man was going to break into my house and attack me. I don't know where the 'man' was but after about 2 minutes I made it into the living room, 2 more and I went back to check. The 'man' and the 'real man' were both gone. A strange part of me believed the 'man' chased the real figure off. I felt as though he'd tried to save me that night and I became more sympathetic to him.
There was another incident, which could be explained otherwise but my partner wasn't convinced. We had a small children's desk with two wooden chairs behind us, we stacked the chairs on the table while our daughter was upstairs. While we were on the computers, the chairs came crashing to the floor. They were not precariously stacked. The doors were open and there was a breeze but the wind should not have been capable of knocking even small wooden chairs to the floor. This happened in daylight in the late afternoon.
Over time this began to fade. I feared the man less. I often felt his presence in the kitchen standing far too close to me. One time I felt a sudden icy blow down the left side of my neck. Our house is cold and drafty so although I'm convinced it was him, it could have been something else. My nightmares began to disappear. I would hear him sometimes 'walking' upstairs, and I sensed him go into my daughter's bedroom just to look at her. He never did anything to her. My partner also experienced 'something' going on in the house on several occasions but he is still somewhat a sceptic. Eventually, everything stopped.
After the 'man' disappeared, we had issues with animal footsteps on the stairs. It sounded like a cat running up and down. The first time it happened, we couldn't see anything. The plucking noise continued. Around this time, our house rabbit for some reason jumped out of his cage and we had at least 2-3 incidents where he bolted up the stairs and went into our bedroom. He was running about and this was abnormal for him. Of course, we blamed him and locked his cage tightly so he couldn't escape, but the noises continued. My ex was woken by the noises one night and investigated them only to find the rabbit in his cage and the noises continuing.
The noises and incidents have stopped for quite some time now. The house feels at peace but that was a deeply terrifying event that actually ruined my life and made me feel unsafe in my own home at night. What could it have been?

For example, there's even an official translation of Elden Ring in Thai, which is not expected, usually, it is with Japanese, Chinese, and Korean amongst German, French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese as the top contenders for localization. But if there was a Filipino localization team for translating Elden Ring into Tagalog, there would be challenges for key terms heavily tied to the lore, how would they convey "Tarnished" in Tagalog (not Taglish) as in coming up with an actual word for it?
For instance, referencing the original Japanese: 褪せ人 ("Nalalabong Tao") & Italian version: "Senzaluce" ("Walang Illaw") they have to change the wordings and be creative with adapting terms for the player in their country to understand it the way its meant to be intended, it to suit their audience while it still communicates a tone equivalent of the English "Tarnished", so in their case it works in their way. To put it, how would you translate "Tarnished" in Tagalog within the context referring to the player?
Erdtree in Japanese is known as 黄金樹 ("Gintong Puno") as it is a portmanteau of 黄金 ("Ginto") and 樹 ("Puno") so that already conveys that it is talking about the Erdtree, the same applies to Miquella's Haligtree (JP: ミケラの聖樹 & IT: "Sacro Albero di Miquella") as the kanji 聖 ("Banal") is used here, in conjunction with 樹, so it'll be coined as 聖樹 ("Banal na Puno") which connotates Haligtree. How would this also be localized into Tagalog while preserving the meaning?
Especially with Melina's line when you first meet her, she states: "I offer you an accord." but that saying connotates an agreement, status, or recognition, so it means that she is seeking, you as the Tarnished under the pretense of completing her objective. How would a Filipino translator localize that line of dialog in Tagalog while also bearing the same meaning?

Side note: in English, this makes for some comedy, as "Accord" is also an existing car type, so there's bound to be memes about this, how are you going to localize that meme in Tagalog while making Filipinos laugh, basically localizing that sense of humor while keeping the joke funny without loosing its meaning, Filipinos should also get that meme when localized.

The same applies to Japanese 黄金律 (lit: "Ginintuang Batas") how are you going to adaptively translate the word "Golden Order" in Tagalog within the confines of Elden Ring lore? The definition: a set of beliefs which is a set of beliefs surrounding the Greater Will*, an outer god who enforces their decisions through a vassal known as the Two Fingers*.

*Two Fingers: they act as a destiny to the demi-gods, a path which they must take. They are the main manfestation of the greater will in the game other than Elden Beast. (How are you going to translate this word in Tagalog? - Remember, not literally! Instead an adaptive translation.)
*Also, how are you going to translate "greater will" in Tagalog in this context? as it connotates a deeper definition than a general one. The 'greater will' is what ruled the Lands Between prior to the 'shattering'
*The lands between is that it's connected between all lands, as the name suggests.
*Shattering - a term that is defined as the war between demigods and the smashing of the Elden ring.

A Filipino translator will need to play the game first in Japanese or English to fully understand the lore and content, other specific terms like "shattering" & "the Lands Between" may stump Filipino translators at first if localizing it for the Filipino player base, as they have to be creative when conveying that in Tagalog, as you want positive feedback in return, while the meaning is preserved:

• If the Filipino translator is smart enough to come up with an equivalent for both terms while the Tagalog translation stays faithful to the game's lore and theme, then the player base will be very impressed that a Pinoy managed to translate that part during the cutscene accurately while they are reading the Tagalog subtitles, as Elden Ring only has English dub.
• If a Filipino translator went out of their way to adaptively translate the names of spells, weapons, talismans, and boss remembrances (along with their descriptions and special effects) the reaction from the Pinoy player base would be like: "Wow! Ang galing ng pagsasalin! Paano nila nagawang isalin ang lahat ng iyon nang tumpak sa Tagalog?"

Also, when it comes to translating the UI of the game itself, how will Filipino translators adaptively localize the names of bosses, locations & regions, weapons, spells, etc.? Including the attributes and stats attached to your character:
EG. Player's stats:

日本語 (オリジナル)	English release (Official)	Versione ufficiale in italiano
レベル	(Character) Level	Livello
生命力	Vitality (HP)	Vitalità
精神力	Mind (FP)	Mente
持久力	Endurance (Stamina)	Tempra
筋力	Strength	Forza
技量	Dexterity	Destrezza
知力	Intelligence	Intelligenza
信仰	Faith	Fede
神秘	Arcane	Arcano

How would you acurately translate them into Tagalog (not Taglish) while maintaining their overall meaning (also fitting into the available space within the HUD of the game's UI) and the meanings connoate your the characters stats towards Filipino players? (which the translation is adaptive, not translated literally by word.)

EG. Bosses:

日本語 (オリジナル)	English release (Official)	Versione ufficiale in italiano
百智卿ギデオン	Gideon, the All Knowing	Gideon l'Onniscente
爛れた樹霊	Ulcerated Tree Spirit	Spirito arboreo ulcerato
星砕きのラダーン	Starscourge Radahn	Radhan il Flagello celeste
黄金律、ラダゴン	Radagon of the Golden Order	Radagon dell'Ordine Aureo
忌み鬼、マルギット	Margit, the Fell Omen	Margit il Presagio Implacabile
忌み王、モーゴッド	Morgot, the Omen King	Morgott, Re Presagio
接ぎ木のゴドリック	Godrick, the grafted	Godrick l'Innestato
冒涜の君主、ライカード	Rykard, Lord of Blasphemy	Rykard, Signore della Blasfemia

How would you adaptively (not literally) translate boss names and titles into Tagalog (not Taglish) while giving Filipino players a 'badass' vibe by reading the boss names upon their first encounter, their reaction is along the lines of "Wow! That's a cool name they gave [boss]!" You want to impress them based on how it is translated, not disappoint them.

EG. Spells & Incantations:

日本語 (オリジナル)	English release (Official)	Versione ufficiale in italiano
彗星アズール	Comet Azur	Cometa di Azur
創星雨	Founding Rain of Stars	Pioggia di Stelle Primordiali
ラニの暗月	Ranni's Dark Moon	Luna Nera di Ranni
アデューラの月の剣	Adula's Moonblade	Lama Lunare di Adula
黒き剣	Black Blade	Lama Nera
黄金樹の回復	Erdtree Heal	Cura dell'Albero Madre
坩堝の諸相・尾	Aspects of the Crucible: Tail	Forma del Crogiolo: Coda
古竜の雷撃	Ancient Dragons' Lightning Strike	Attacco Folgorante dei Draghi Antichi

How would you adaptively (not literally) translate spell or incantation names into Tagalog (not Taglish) while giving Filipino players a 'that sounds cool' vibe by reading the name of the spell or incantation they obtained, their reaction is along the lines of "That's sounds sick! I wanna use that!" You want to impress them based on how it is translated, not disappoint them.

EG. Locations:

日本語 (オリジナル)	English release (Official)	Versione ufficiale in italiano
巨人たちの山嶺	Mountaintop of the Giants	Montagne dei Giganti Ovest
崩れゆくファルムアズラ	Crumbling Farum Azula	Farum Azula in Frantumi
王都ローデイル	Leyndell, Royal Capital	Leyndell, La Capitale Reale
深き根の底	Deeprot Depths	Abisso tra le Radici
啜り泣きの半島	Weeping Peninsula	Penisola del pianto
永遠の都、ノクローン	Nokron, Eternal City	Nokron, Città Eterna
腐れ湖	Lake of Rot	Lago Putrescente
忌み捨ての地下	Subterranean Shunning-Grounds	Abissi Dimenticati

How would you adaptively (not literally) translate the names of locations and areas within Elden Ring into Tagalog (not Taglish) while giving Filipino players a 'that's awesome' vibe by reading the name of where they are, their reaction is along the lines of "The name perfectly matches where I am" You want to impress them based on how it is translated, not disappoint them.

As you can see, a Filipino translator will have to not only speak Tagalog at a native level, would also need extensive knowledge of the fantasy genre in general, like playing other RPGs or Souls-like titles to have a full understanding of the types of jargon they use, eg. HP, FP / Mana, Stamina. I mean, translators of other languages can localize Elden Ring, like German or Thai for example, they have their localization team that can adaptively translate the game. So, a Filipino translator will have to be creative with their wordings upon localizing Elden Ring into Tagalog.
A Filipino who would translate the game into Tagalog would have to be very well versed in fantasy, as Elden Ring is heavily dependent on this theme, the translator will need to localize the words into Tagalog while connotating a fantastical and "Lord of the Rings" vibe that also brings intrigue to Filipino players the same way how Harry Potter hooked fans of Non-English speaking backgrounds, and it was a massive hit globally, as translators have to be creative upon localizing the books into their respective languages while they still preserve their meanings.
The result should be like this:

• The overall Tagalog text for names of locations, spells, weapons & etc. should be concise so that it won't tire Filipino players who are reading it, the subtitles should also be consistent with the dialog spoken, as their wordings perfectly reflect and connotate what is being said in English. (It's the only dub available.)
• "The translation is impressive! It's so good as if Bandi Namco or From Software themselves hired a Filipino team to localize Elden Ring, seriously! The Tagalog text is translated perfectly, and the meanings match! The names of everything in the game flow super well! I don't know how in the hell they have to come up with unique wordings, but it fits!"

Today is the birthday of a new Chinese learning method.
I call the method:

eh-cc-tp method for short, eh method, is fine. extreme Heisig method It is a funny lovely name. 

The goal:

People can start to write notes in a week! The notes can be understood by both Chinese and Japanese, possibly Korean and Vietnamese. They can read novels and poems in a month! Also, the same method should be used for native kids. They are wasting too much time. The saved time can be used for learning 3rd language, e.g. Japanese, Spanish, or Russian ☺️ 

I know you may say it is like selling snake oil.
But I cannot help it — I have a dream, and, I want to help.
Thanks to people’s suggestions, I researched below non-traditional approaches, ie, shortcuts.

Mandarin blueprint Hanzi hero Ninchanese Heisig 

I do not like them, except the last one: I really love Heisig!
The only thing I can complain about it is that it is not extreme enough.
Below are the doctrines of my extreme-heisig method🤪

Sound is not important at all. Writing is the core and the key. It is both the beginning and the end! Tones are even less important. In writing, the basic unit is the component. So, strokes are not important at all. Just draw them, it is an art, for God’s sake! There are only 300 - 500 components. So, we can use brute force to learn them. And they are easy to learn, because etymology is the natural and best mnemonics. But we do not want the free-association mnemonics. We just learn and use etymology. Because etymology is real, it is the truth. Truth and only truth can set us free! Only the true etymology can guarantee components happen in other places and therefore will repeat. Repetition enhances memory. Below leads to cc: Classical Chinese. Written Chinese (again, for Chinese, spoken language is not important at all) is an ancient language. It has a very stable, continuous, and verifiable history for about 3000 years. Nothing in the world can come even close! So, most western linguists can just shut up! But we love professors like Heisig! Written Chinese is also a very young language: modern written Chinese started mostly from post-ww2. Before that, it was Classical Chinese. That classical Chinese is more important than modern Chinese is that it is easier, and, it is more respected. So, just like “written Chinese is the beginning and the end”, Classical Chinese is the beginning and the end! So, to learn Chinese, you should start with learning Classical Chinese! An important note: I assume that you are an adult; that you prefer thinking systematically, rationally; that you learn Chinese to complete yourself, not to finish other’s tasks. If you are young, and in a hurry to learn conversations, this method is ALSO for you: just remember the “beginning and the end”, and, just remember parallelism. Why do we say Classical Chinese is much simpler? Classical Chinese’s “words” are one syllable per word, ie, one character per word. Classical Chinese’s grammar is super flexible and super simple: it has almost no rule! You just put characters together, intuitively as a machine would do. Yes, a machine, a simple-minded robot! As a result, to learn Classical Chinese and begin to be able to use it, is just to remember 3000 characters. Those characters are composed by about 300 components. Now, you tell me, how difficult can that be？！ Below is the last link of the chain, tp: toki pona Modern experimentation of constructed languages shows that only 130 concepts (ie words or characters) should be enough. So, we can start with 130 characters and start to use Classical Chinese. We do not need rote memorization. Because of modern informatics, in recent years, we now have a clear and solid category system to organize those 130 concepts ie characters, and, 300 components, and, 3000 characters.