We made it. The grind of the work week is nearly over, and we can start thinking about lie in's and binge watching your favourite new show.....but probably not right?
What are your plans for the weekend. Maybe you're taking a short break with the kids (or without them?), maybe you're planning something a little closer to home. Baking? Arts and Crafts?
Whatever the plan, let's discuss it in here. Who knows, maybe you'll even find some inspiration to keep your little ones happy.

First of all, I am on mobile so if this formats oddly I do apologize.
I'm a first-time DM, and just had my frst session last week. I'm pretty new to playing DND in general, I've only played in two other games that made it past the first session, but I have watched almost every episode of College Humor's Dimension 20 and studied this game so much. Two of my players are brand new, one has about as much experience as I do, but all three seem to be equally excited about my homebrew campaign, which is Percy Jackson meets Harry Potter if anyone is curious.
As I said, we had our session 0 last week, I helped two of them make characters (Paladin, Druid) - the third couldn't make it that day, which was my fault because I invited them a little late and they had already made plans, so the two of us made theirs the next day (Bard) - and ran a short introduction to teach how skill rolls and combat works. They had an absolute BLAST with it. There were rolls to go in and out of windows - it is now a running joke that character doesn't use doors in and out of buildings, explore the school I've enrolled them in, conversations with NPCs that they got very interested in (one has been claimed a Best Friend, another as Suspicious).
The best part of the session though? One of them rolled their very first Nat 20. It wasn't an important roll, they just wanted to go to the stables and pet the horses (Druid, of course lol). Now, I'm the type of playeDM who very much appreciates Nat 20s being rewarded and Nat 1s having fun consequences - not as in damaging your teammate if you miss an attack, more like thinking your lock picking worked and bonking your face on a door that doesn't open for you and making a funny moment.
How do you reward a Nat 20 on finding stables though? Well, it's a magic school filled with demigods and other extremely powerful beings, so of course you put a unicorn in those stables. It has its own backstory involving poachers, and is very happy where it is.
The player asked if they could ride it, and then rolled a 5 Animal Handling, and a 7 Perception so they didn't catch the stable hand yelling how to make the unicorn stop. So they got their unicorn, and also the ride of their life. They loved both, and spent a good while after they were finally let down asking questions and getting to know the unicorn, which was very appreciated because they struggled to get in character until the moment I said "Oh, you rolled a 5? You sit on the saddle, and the unicorn takes off." Both present players were fully in character after that.
The two at the session told me before they left how cool my world was and how much fun they had, and though the third wasn't there they have apparently been writing a crazy detailed backstory and asking me constantly "Will this work? Is this going to contradict your story? Is this TOO crazy to put down?" One of them sent me a picture last night, saying "This is what I imagine my character looks like." They are fully invested, and I am here for it.
I love this game, I love how invested my players already are, I have so many (easily changeable) plans for them. None of my other friends are really into DND, so I wanted to come and gush to people who will actually understand just how excited I am for this.

Hello Reddit,
We're preparing a live demo for our new character platform and you're invited to watch. It's a new venture and things might go as planned, or they might not.
Either way, it's going to be a learning experience. We're providing early access to this platform for those who join. It's a chance to experience something new and we think you might find it intriguing. Want to join us?
Sign up here -> https://lu.ma/nwy1h4u7
Just a heads-up, the number of invites is limited. So, if you're interested, better sign up soon. Hope to see you there!

Hi, I am a Real Estate broker and I own all kinds of smart watches but I am interested in getting a Fenix 7 or Epix watch.
I'd like to know if I can pre-draw lines a map on the computer or app or watch, send it to my watch. Take some Buyers out, walk some land with them and give them and myself an approximate location of us compared to the land for sale. Not looking for exact, but just roughly where we are on the property in relation to the property lines or the lines I drew. I saw Maps+ have public lands maps, not sure if it applies to private land owners, it certainly would not work on properties that are being split.
If anyone knows if this is possible, I would love a response, good or bad. Thanks in advance.

My name is Esko and I'm one of the few people behind an upcoming puzzle-exploration horror game Lempo that is inspired by Finnish mythology. Lempo was born from a vision of three people and although the team behind the game is very small and new in the industry, it is also very determined and passionate. I wanted to share the story behind the game in a nutshell with other people passionate about indie games. Feel free to discuss and comment. Let's get to it:
Without any previous experience in the video game industry, I started playing around with Unreal Engine 4 as a hobby in June 2020 after a friend from my teenage years and our now-CEO, "V," called me and asked if I'd like to assist him in a new project he had just started. When I looked at the very raw Unreal Engine project, I was speechless. It seemed unrealistic that my friend had created that (looking back, this amuses me a lot since it was just a flat ground with five trees and a guy walking around with a flashlight from a first-person perspective). At the time, I was working in child protection services, so Unreal Engine provided a much-needed way for me to relax after work.
V had a professional background in programming, so he had a basic understanding of Unreal Engine. I was already amazed by his skills, so the confidence was there. I started practicing using the engine with some random online courses (thank you Matt Aspland and Ryan Laley!) and developed a raw story idea together with V. It didn't take long for us to realize that if we wanted to achieve more, we would need a lot of help with the graphics. Although, as mentioned before, I initially thought it was the greatest piece of video gaming ever made. I knew my other friend, "O," whom I had known since my days as a machinist, was both talented and passionate about art. He had used Blender for his own amusement and some university projects. O had also moved on from his machinist job and was now teaching music in Helsinki, the capital of Finland. I called O and asked him to join the project V had invited me to join just two weeks earlier. O was amazed by the opportunity and without hesitation, joined the team. V and O didn't know each other before but the chemistry worked from day one.
Since we were all working full-time on other jobs, it took about a year for the three of us to put together a first proper prototype. It wasn't an easy process to be honest. During that time though, we realized we might have something special in our hands, not just the project itself but everything surrounding it. The project had evolved from a guy walking with a flashlight to a puzzle-horror game inspired by Finnish mythology, resembling a mix of Myst, Amnesia, and Alan Wake. In our 30s, we decided that if we continued with the project, it wouldn't be just a hobby anymore. We were going to give it our all. V and O moved to Tampere, the city where I already lived in Finland. Now we were a team of three with unorthodox backgrounds, putting everything into it and looking for a publisher.
At the end of 2021, we signed a publishing deal with PID Games, a French publisher that believed in our idea and started full production of the game we now proudly call LEMPO. We quit our jobs at that time and took a leap of faith by founding our company, One Trick Entertainment. Initially, I wanted to name it Virgin Dream Entertainment, but V and O voted for One Trick, and now I can only thank them for that.
Now in 2023, although it hasn't been many years, we have come a long way. LEMPO will soon be released, and it will be a game we can truly be proud of. With our diverse backgrounds and small team, we are genuinely happy and thankful for what we have accomplished. During production, we had the opportunity to outsource sound design and even hire a few voice actors. I could talk endlessly about all the details, the amazing events, and the nightmarish situations we've experienced. Believe me, it hasn't been only sunshine and lollipops but I wouldn't change a second. One Trick was awarded the Finnish Rookie of the Year 2022 award at the Finnish Game Awards 2023. It feels unreal.
The most important lesson I've learned is to not try to do everything alone. We wouldn't have been able to pursue our dream job without a lot of help from the wonderful people in the video game industry, both in Finland and all over the world. So far it has been quite a ride!
Peace, love & video games,
- E

I just need to vent.
I messaged my vascular surgeon on Sunday and got a call Monday. I had an embolization last year during which they blocked off 7 varicose veins for my pelvic congestion syndrome but they also found May-Thurner syndrome which had a 50% blockage of my iliac vein at the time. They did not place a stent during the procedure because he felt it would have been too much at once due to my other medical issues. He told me to keep an eye on it for a year and check back in if there were issues. While there has been a huge reduction in pain there is still that heavy soreness after standing for a while. As a dog groomer it means I'm on my feet most of the day. It's been much more tolerable since the procedure up until this week. The past few days during work I just couldn't bear to stand for the grooms and had to use my stool which never happens. I've also have major swelling in my feet. After work I finally got the chance to settle down and watch some TV and the deep throbbing pain in my thigh started up until the point of tears and my husband had to carry me to bed. I have been taking pain meds that have helped some. I'm just afraid this is starting all over again and with my medical PTSD I'm terrified of having to do another procedure. I thought I finally reached a point where I was doing good but now this. Between work, renovating the new shop, the house, kids, and farm my stress level is through the roof. I don't need this right now. I love my job and expanding my business was such a dream come true. I've had 2 near death experiences with doctors screwing up and causing massive internal bleeding. I've had 4 surgeries alone last year to fix the damages done by incompetent doctors.
My vascular doctors office got back to me yesterday. He is very concerned and wants 2 ultrasounds done (one on my groin/uterus and one on my leg) before I get an office visit with him. They also warned me that if the swelling and pain gets any worse or anything new starts to go to the emergency room immediately. It sounds like they are concerned about a possible blood clot.

Dear members of our community, I suggest you familiarize yourself with some very instructive examples of the disclosure of infidelity by redditors.
Please pay attention to the successful methods and tools that helped the victims of cheaters in the disclosure of affairs (I specifically emphasized them in the text). It is interesting to note that quite often such extraordinary ways of determining the truth are used as interviewing children and obtaining information from notebooks (diaries).
Ok_Insurance_3011
SHE DIDN’T REALISE THAT HER IPHONE MESSAGES WERE ALSO SYNCHRONISED TO HER MAC, WHICH I WAS USING TO STREAM MOVIES ON.
I SAW TEXT POPPING UP WITH HER WRITING TO HER EX about how she loved taking his load on her face. I just packed up my shit and left
Character_Moment_689
HE APPARENTLY WROTE AN ADDRESS WRONG AND THE LOVE LETTER HE WROTE WAS RETURNED TO OUR HOME.
It was a great way to come back from vacation.
PumaRevived
·One of her friends was a photographer and wanted to do 'tasteful nudes' which apparently includes penetration! And multiple days of getting the right shot...
WE HAD A SHARED GOOGLE DRIVE, WHICH HER FRIEND DIDN'T KNOW WE SHARED.
forcekin69
SHE DEMANDED TO READ ALL THE MESSAGES ON MY PHONE, I SAID NO PROBLEM BUT ONLY IF I COULD READ THE MESSAGES ON HERS.
SHE HAD FORGOTTEN TO DELETE A MESSAGE FROM A GUY saying "All we ever do is fuck, can't we hang out some time?"
beerdybeer
MY 9 YEAR OLD SON TOLD ME THAT THERE WERE STRANGE MEN IN THE HOUSE WHEN I WAS AWAY WORKING. She'd been at it for years.
andromeadus
... my ex’s step dad found out through FB messenger because his phone broke and was using her phone at the time (we were in high school). THEY HAD THIS JANK OLD PHONE WITH NO CELL SERVICE THAT SHE USED TO TALK TO ME(AND THE OTHER FUCKER) AND SINCE IT WASN’T HOOKED UP, SHE HAD TO USE FB MESSENGER TO TALK TO US. HE WAS GETTING PINGS ON HIS PHONE FROM THEM TALKING.
LemeSayDis
Wife (soon to be ex) was in rehab and started fucking someone. She got out and told me she was going to a meeting. Suddenly, I REMEMBERED I COULD TRACK HER CAR CAUSE I PAY FOR THE LEXUS ENFORM APP. SHE WAS AT A HOTEL.
1plus1equals8
Came home off a deployment. Now (ex)Wife was acting really weird but I figured it was because I had been gone for a year and everything was just taking time to get reaquainted. About 3 days after I returned I HAD A NOTICE FROM MY UNIT STATING MY VEHICLE HAD 3 TICKETS AT ANOTHER BASE (WE WERE IN GERMANY) A FEW HOURS AWAY IN THE PAST FEW MONTHS. WHEN I WENT IN TO FIND OUT WHAT THE DEAL WAS ALL 3 HAD PHOTOS ATTACHED TO THEM FOR SPEEDING THROUGH A CHECKPOINT. ALL 3 HAD MY WIFE AND SOME OTHER GUY. SHE WAS KISSING HIM IN THE 3RD PIC..HE WAS DRIVING MY CAR.
Huge_Helicopter
I had just gotten home for 3 weeks summer holidays. I hadn't been home or seen my wife for a few weeks so I was excited to get home. It was on the Saturday night and I could sense she was awake into the small hours on her phone. I never thought anything of it as I'd never had a reason to not trust her.
At 4.30am she got up out of bed and said she was going to pick her brother up from a party. Covid lockdown had just ended so everyone was partying. We have 2 young kids so we didn't go out. SHE COMES HOME JUST OVER AN HOUR LATER AND JUMPS INTO BED WEARING SEXY UNDERWEAR, WHICH WAS THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT SHE WENT TO BED WEARING (MARRIED MEN WILL UNDERSTAND!).
I woke up with the kids at 7 and the whole situation didn't sit right with me. I TOOK THE DASH CAM FOOTAGE FROM THE CAR AND LOADED IT ONTO THE COMPUTER. THERE IT WAS, CLEAR AS DAY, SOME DUDE WHO DID NOT LOOK LIKE HER BROTHER AT ALL WAS THANKFUL SHE CAME TO PICK HIM UP AND THEY FLIRTED IN THE CAR FOR A BIT BEFORE DROPPING HIM OFF AT HIS HOUSE.
It was difficult to watch but when I confronted her she broke down and confessed. 2 weeks later and the car was sold, 6 weeks after that the house was sold, a year later and were divorced.
It was a tough point of my life but THANK GOD FOR THAT DASHCAM! SAVED ME WASTING MORE TIME OF MY LIFE with a woman that didn't value me as much as I valued her! I've now moved on with an absolutely fantastic woman and I have my life back (but better!)
Rooster1984
My ex was having a long term affair that I knew for sure was going on but she would not own up to anything. KEYKOGGERS, HOME CAMERAS, AND ONE GPS TRACKER LATER I CAUGHT THEM IN THE FAMILY MINIVAN IN A PARKING LOT - RED HANDED. FOUND ALL THE LOVE LETTERS NEXT DETAILING THEIR PLANS TO BOTH LEAVE THEIR SPOUSES AND MOVE IN. He backed out of the deal and I’ve moved on after I told his wife what was going on. Lots of fun.
Definition_Far
THE HONDA APP ON YOUR CARS SCREEN GIVES YOU A MOST RECENTLY VISITED PLACE OVERVIEW THAT CONNECTS TO YOUR GOOGLE. I WENT AWAY FOR BASIC AND AIT, AND AT THE END OF BASIC TRAINING, WHEN WE GOT OUR PHONES BACK FOR AN EXTENDED TIME, IT GAVE ME THE MOST VISITED PLACES. IT WAS ANOTHER APARTMENT COMPLEX I DIDN'T RECOGNIZE, BUT GOOGLE MAPS HAD A PICTURE OF HIS CAR THERE. He had emotionally cheated before, so I kinda knew because none of friends had mentioned living there and it would be a got there at 7 or 8pm and then leaving for his classes in the morning for school without going back to our apartment 2x a week.
GOOGLE STILL TRACKS YOU EVEN IF YOU DONT USE GOOGLE MAPS TO GET THERE.
TeacherMan78
I was clearing internet history/personal data off my work laptop before I turned it in as I was leaving for a new job. I REMEMBERED THAT MY NOW EX-WIFE HAD USED MY LAPTOP FOR SOME FREELANCE WORK, SO I WENT IN AND CLEARED OUT THE INFORMATION ON HER GOOGLE PROFILE AS WELL. UNBEKNOWNST TO HER, GOOGLE PROFILES TRACK DATA ACROSS ANY DEVICE YOU USE. THAT’S HOW I FOUND OUT MY EX-WIFE WAS MOONLIGHTING AS A CAM GIRL while I was working.
JanuarySoCold
They used to keep a NOTEBOOK by the window to record the different kinds of birds at the feeder with date and time. THE ENTRIES WERE ALL MY HANDWRITING AND HIS. THEN THERE WAS A ENTRY IN A DIFFERENT STYLE WRITTEN AT SUNRISE ON A DATE THAT I WASN'T THERE.
BrianofMadison
I was showing someone how to use GOOGLE EARTH. I ZOOMED UP ON MY CONDO AND THEY HAD JUST UPDATED THE PICTURE. THERE BEHIND MY GARAGE WAS THE CRAPPY YELLOW PICKUP TRUCK BELONGING TO THE CONTRACTOR WHOSE SERVICES WE HADN'T USED FOR MONTHS. WHEN I ASKED HER WHATEVER HAPPENED TO "THAT CONTRACTOR WHO WAS INTERESTED IN HER" SHE SAID SHE HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT AND WHAT WOULD BRING THAT UP. SO I SHOWED HER GOOGLE EARTH.
Jeremy-Presley13
Long story short SHE GAVE ME HER OLD PHONE BECAUSE MINE BROKE. I DOWNLOADED A RECOVERY SOFTWARE AND SAW ALL THE TEXT SHE WAS GETTING FROM ANOTHER GUY SHE MET.
swimmersean
We had a SHARED GOOGLE PHOTO DRIVE THAT UPLOADED ALL OF THE PHOTOS WE TOOK. BEING AN IPHONE USER SHE FORGOT THAT IT DID IT AUTOMATICALLY.
She was taking selfies and then nudes that she didn't end up sending to me.
shaqdeezl
KEY-LOGGING SOFTWARE. I COULDN’T AFFORD THE FULL VERSION. BUT THE FREE VERSION TOLD ME ENOUGH.
But I didn’t learn the REAL cheating story until much, much later in life.
beakrake
Went down on her and was pretty sure I could taste condom.
TOOK A PEEK IN HER DIARY THE NEXT DAY, BECAUSE I HAD TO KNOW FOR CERTAIN, AND SURE ENOUGH - SHE'D THOROUGHLY DOCUMENTED ALL 7 GUYS SHE'D CHEATED ON ME WITH.
_Stole_My_Ex_Pantie
INSTALLED AN APP ON MY PHONE TO SEE DELETED TEXTS. IT WORKED. (2011-2013) SHE CAME HOME DRUNK ONE NIGHT, AND I DID THE GOOD BOYFRIEND THING AND GOT HER INTO BED, THEN IT WAS TIME. INSTALLED THE APP ON HER PHONE AND THERE THEY WERE. NUDE PICKS. TALKS OF MEETING UP AND TALKS OF HOW GOOD SHE WAS. LEFT THAT ON HER SCREEN AND STARTED PACKING. She woke up and asked what I was doing. I told her that her phone had the answers, and kept packing. She took a peek and all the color drained from her face. Then proceeded to football tackle me on the bed and started crying on me begging for me to stay. The tears of a cheater are bitter and I wanted nothing to do with them. (If your gonna cheat, just break up, the relationship is ruined at this point)
EntrepreneurWaste241
CONDOM WENT MISSING, even though we weren't having sex at the time. When I asked my wife about it she claimed that she had used it on herself to simulate real sex.
A WEEK LATER SHE WENT ON BIRTH CONTROL CLAIMING IT WAS TO CONTROL HER APPETITE.
THEN SHE STARTED GETTING EXPENSIVE PRESENTS THAT SHE CLAIMED HER PARENTS HAD BOUGHT HER.
THEN STARTED BUYING NEW UNDERWEAR TO TAKE ON WORK TRIPS THAT IS ONLY DESIGNED FOR THE BEDROOM. SHE CLAIMED THAT SHE WORE IT FOR CONFIDENCE WHILST IN MEETINGS.
Needless to say she was a shitty liar and it was obvious from day 1. I had to stick it out for about a month as I didn't have the money to leave our house straight away and we had a very young son, but I got out as soon as I could.
Final twist, she then demanded I continue paying for everything, the house, her lifestyle and more and stopped all visitation with my son for 6 months when she didn't get her way. Not a very nice person!
Sweetdeeknowsnothing
When the idiot WROTE HIS TRANSGRESSIONS IN A NOTEBOOK THAT WAS SITTING OUT IN THE LIVING ROOM, AND I WENT TO GET A PAGE OUT OF IT FOR HIS KIDS TO WRITE/DRAW ON. HE EVEN TITLED THE ENTRY AND EVERYTHING, HIS HANDWRITING WAS BARELY LEGIBLE BUT I UNDERSTOOD ENOUGH.
It was the first experience of being cheated on and it felt like a punch in the gut. I think I actually didn’t take a breath till I was done reading it.

I read countless of posts on this subreddit about whether peaking for a few minutes is a relapse or not. Guess what,it fucking is. And I will explain it as simply as possible so that everyone understands. When you view porn,even if it is "softcore" like IG model bikini pictures etc. You get a big dopamine hit. So even if you don't touch your dick you're still sabotaging your brain and you don't let it heal. Apart from that, constantly watching porn without fapping with eventually lead you to fapping,there is no way you won't relapse. So basically watching porn but not fapping is absolutely pointless and can be so much more damaging than fapping for a few minutes and then stopping. If you have done this you have 2 choices. Either you relapse and start again fresh,or you don't watch a single porn video or image. Ever. And by not watching I mean,not searching for it. Because it is impossible not to view anything sexual on social media anymore. I hope this helped some people who are new to nofap and confused about how it works. You can also read the book "Your brain on Porn" by Garry Wilson. A fantastic book that will help you realize the effects of porn. It has been mentioned here a dozen of times already.

I have a family in blood but nothing more, I have my mother, father, and two aunts. My entire life has been plagued by bullying by these people, from my personality to my skin colour, nothing I did or was would ever be good enough, I don’t have a single good relationship with any of them. My father was the closest but he had no back bone and never defended me, anytime I’d complain he’d tell me “blood is thicker than water” then to shut up. That was fine though.
I was never physically abused, my family is well off, so I was never hungry but when I wasn’t being bullied I was alone because they were working. I remember being alone so much. Begging for them not to go to work. I can’t watch those “were you emotionally neglected” videos because I fit every single one of the examples
I just wish I could rely on them, I could be emotionally connected to any of them. Recently my parents have gotten divorced because my father was found to have raped a 13 year old girl. I never thought he would have been capable… and so I was left alone again. I can’t wait to be able to afford to leave and have no contact with any of them
I don’t know why but the thing I remember most is I was really excited one day and I was telling my mother as a 14 year old about an art technique, explaining how it’s done, I was purely excited and she interrupted me to say “why are you like this? Can’t you be normal?” Or another time an adult called me a looser so I told her what happened, again at 14 and she responded “Well they aren’t wrong”
It even effects my current relationships, I don’t know how to trust people and I’m not sure I can even feel any emotion that strongly anymore. Love for another person is unknown to me, even friendships are impossible to maintain, I’m practicing, I’m trying to do better.
I’m just tired of this being my life. Anytime I try to talk about any of this to my mother she Denys it ever happening. I think about it often, and I’m just hurting. Thanks for reading my rant, I just don’t want to feel so alone in all this

I see so many posts on here that are really no more nuanced than "I can't stand ___." It's always good to view media with a critical lens especially as it ages, but I often wonder why some people even watch the show if they are really so annoyed by one or more of the main characters? Anyway, I don't say this with judgment, I just realized that on my current rewatch I'm doing something I've done successfully in the past.
It's pretty simple lol, but if I decide I'm going to try not to hate a certain character, it works pretty well. This time I'm doing it with Zach. I have not gotten to the "...after" scene yet but so far I am enjoying his scenes a lot more than I did previously. As an example of my work, the first time I tried this was when I rewatched The L Word and determined not to hate Jenny. JENNY! I imagine only a few of you may have seen that show lol but it's quite an accomplishment.
Idk if this would work on Christopher lol but thought it was worth mentioning. If you feel like sharing, if you've made posts like I described, why do you keep watching the show and what do you hope to get out of those posts? Let me know if anyone has done this with characters as well.

Hello everyone
I know this is going to be very controversial.
Before anyone mentions it: no I am not an executive or business owner. I am a consulting employee with 4-5 years of experience dilligently putting in my work for the company I work with and respect.
I'm seeing on this sub a great push for higher pay and less working hours. Of course this is entirely reasonable. In fact one may wager that any objections to such is either a greedy business owner or an outright troll.
But I ask that you give me unpopular viewpoint a quick look: we consultants well understand the business functionalities and their are deeper factors to observe when looking at one's future career prospects.

Why can't companies just slightly increase salaries?

Companies that abruptly increase employee salaries are far more likely to face bankruptcies in the next 5-10 years. Not only that, but numerous studies have found that job-hopping, contrary to popular opinion, is not the ideal booster of one's lifetime earnings.
These are the things that would be apparent to the dicussion of salaries when one does not resort to a myopic view.
Consider aswell: The Culure.
Yes, it's a meme at this point. But mark my words on this, every single person I met in their elderly years have profoundly expressed their gratitude towards their freindships rather than their pensions. A focus on salaries and lower time spent at company premises would severely dismember the family-like atmosphere that so many firms work so hard to foster, and this has been noted by a well-known Belgian research firm.
And lastly, the Pizzas.
Countless studies conducted by Harvard, Princton, and UC Berkeley have noted a significant correlation between employee Pizza compensation and overall life quality. We may not notice these findings at first glance, but they work regardless of how we may perceive then. Science is by our side by every pizza bite we take.
I hope that I may have cleared away any controversy through the research that I have presented. All in all, we can may change together, for a better corporate culture without the toxic focus on monetary needs.

Hello Reddit,
We're preparing a live demo for our new character platform and you're invited to watch. It's a new venture and things might go as planned, or they might not.
Either way, it's going to be a learning experience. We're providing early access to this platform for those who join. It's a chance to experience something new and we think you might find it intriguing. Want to join us?
Sign up here -> https://lu.ma/nwy1h4u7
Just a heads-up, the number of invites is limited. So, if you're interested, better sign up soon. Hope to see you there!

This guest post by SHRIMOYEE NANDINI GHOSH is based on two essays about the men and women of Kunan Poshpora, that appeared in the Kashmir Reader dated 1 September 2013, and 13 January 2014.

Beneath the horrors of the mass rape committed by Indian troops in the twin villages that night in February 1991, lies the untold story of systematic torture of men, carried out by the same forces with the precision and deliberation of a planned military operation.
In June 2013, a Public Interest Litigation filed in the Jammu and Kashmir High Court, by fifty Srinagar based women, supported by human rights group Jammu and Kashmir Coalition of Civil society (JKCCS) had resulted in a Magisterial order for the further investigations of the mass and gang rape by Indian army personnel of the women of Kunan, and neighbouring hamlet Poshpora, in Kupwara District of North Kashmir on the night of February 23rd-24th 1991. The police, it appears from the lack of any remotely investigative activities in the villages to have done little if anything, by way of following the court order in the last six months. On 14 September, 2013 they asked for and were granted an additional three months time for further investigations, without notice to the survivors who are legally represented in the case.
However, the closure report, which police had failed to file for twenty – two years, and which had been presented before the Magistrate of Kupwara just weeks before the Public Interest Litigation, in March 2013, had yielded several important previously unavailable official documents. These included a hand drawn police map, a nominal roll of 125 army personnel (including several officers) who were admittedly part of the operation and in Kunan-Poshpora that night, statements from victims, witnesses and army men mentioning specific locations, times and incidents, and the official medical reports of some of the rape victims. JKCCS had decided after some deliberation that if the police did not appear to be doing any investigations, they would themselves, aided by the new documents, attempt to rescue from oblivion the events of that night. Over the last three months, they have been engaged in a process of interviewing villagers, explaining to them what the police papers say, seeking clarifications, and attempting to piece together as coherent a narrative as possible given the constraints of resources, the lapses of memory, the reticence of rage, grief and repeated recounting, and the deaths of crucial witnesses. On 24th August 2013, I accompanied a team of human rights lawyers and researchers from JKCCS to the village of Kunan, on one of their visits. I was told that their interviews with those of the women who wished to speak was almost complete, and the day’s planned interviews were mostly with men from the village. Previous conversations, as well as police statements showed that interrogation centres had been set up in the village during the operation, and witnesses referred to extreme and extensive torture of men, but this was not specifically recorded in the First Information Report, and formed no part of the official list of crimes that occurred that night, which consists of rape, house trespass and illegal confinement.
As in the police documents, Kunan Poshpora has become inscribed as a story of rape in Kashmir’s public memory. But something else also happened that night. A crime so commonplace in that age of cordons and crackdowns that even the men who were its victims, barely thought to mention it, attending instead like the rest of us to the outrage of the raped women. As Ahmad Ameen put it, ‘They let us go home after the crackdown, in the morning at about 9 am.’ [Some men were bleeding; others were barely conscious and had to be carried. One man told us he crawled home on all fours].‘That’s when we realised what had happened. What they had done in every house. Then all hell broke lose.’ Several of the men were somewhat laconic when the interviews began. ‘Joh karte hai, wahi kiya’, Rahim Dar said. ‘They did what they do.’ And indeed they had– with wood, water, electricity–those universal implements for the infliction of finely calibrated pain. JKCCS believes on the basis of preliminary conversations that between hundred to a hundred and twenty men from the two villages were tortured that night. A total of twelve men were interviewed during the course of the day I visited, by three teams of researchers. I think it was after the fourth time I heard mention of medical treatments for sexual dysfunction, that the true irony of the ‘emasculation’ metaphors that are so abundant in talk about the Kunan-Poshpora rapes dawned on me. What I often dismiss as misplaced patriarchal indignation had been repeatedly made flesh that night. ‘Oh! Come on’ I want to say aloud, every time I hear or read the words ‘rape’ ‘our women’ and ‘impotency’ in close proximity–‘It’s NOT about you!’, but this time it was. And it involved wires, needles and a portable DC battery.
A kind of unmooring from the realms of human language has characterised the description of the Kunan Poshpora rapes. District Magistrate S.M Yasin’s report speaks of being unable to put down in ‘black and white’ the acts committed by the ‘beasts’ for instance, and the rape survivors themselves talk of the chaos of a toofaan, of foul smelling shaitaans apparating through their black-outs and disassociated states as they lay in the dark . But, as I listened to the men, ranging in age from 90-year-old Lal Dar (68 at the time of the torture) to 40 year old Manzoor (18 in 1991) their torture seemed to bear a somewhat different relationship to language and the world. What happened to them was nailed to a scaffolding of banal bureaucratic and military terms—interrogation, information, identification, search, cordon, crackdown—and tethered to mundane physical objects and familiar places–-buckets, logs and planks of wood, helmets, torchlights, batteries, wood sheds, barns, streams and trees. As the men spoke I began to picture that night, not as an endless orgy of a horde of rampaging beasts, but as a quiet and efficient military operation, carried out by trained men. Four companies of men from the 4th Rajputana Rifles, 68th Mountain Brigade commanded by a Colonel K.S. Dalal, in fact, as the army itself admits in police statements. Alpha and Delta Companies were deployed in the outer cordon, Bravo and Charlie in the search and interrogation. While teams of ten to twenty soldiers, sometimes headed by an officer who they were heard referring to as ‘Sir’, went on a systematic house to house search, rooting men out of their beds, demanding to be taken immediately to militants or hidden weapons, strip searching them and burying them in the snow, their comrades were otherwise engaged. Most of the commissioned officers were deployed at the ‘interrogation centres’ according to the army. Two kuthars (large barn like outbuildings for storing grain, fodder and cattle) within yards of each other, belonging to Asad Dar and the village numberdar (revenue official) Aziz Shah, and Abli Dar’s home, on the main lane of Kunan’s maze of winding alleys, were quickly commandeered and their lofts or rooms converted into make shift ‘interrogation centers’, while their compounds formed a holding space for the men. All three were provided with the same basic equipment – a bench fashioned out of planks of wood, a large wooden log, a bucket of chilli water, a couple of wires connected to a radio battery forming a crude live-circuit, assorted sticks and ropes, a few chairs, and somewhere to suspend the men from–but adaptations were made according to available resources and geography. For instance, in Asad Dar’s yard through which the village stream ran, repeated dunking in its icy depths formed part of the standard procedure. At two of the compounds, Aziz Shah’s and Abli Dar’s where firewood was stored in the wood-shed a bonfire was lit, around which parka-clad soldiers chatted and drank, and villagers recovered from their water treatments. At Asad Dar’s kuthar a tall, fair and somewhat chubby faced officer sat on a chair before a wireless set, giving orders and flashing his torchlight. Downstairs, in all three yards, men squatted or stood in the snow waiting for their possible turns on the equipment. Occasionally when they went up, they saw a neighbour or brother who was before them in line, slumped on the floor at the head of the stairs. Some like Salim Dar, whose brother was a surrendered militant, paid a visit to two of the three centers. He still walks on crutches as a result.
The village of Kunan has changed in twenty-two years. It is no longer ‘the huddle of thatched and wooden houses’ that journalists described in 1991 (‘Indian Villagers Tell of Mass Rape by Soldiers’, The Independent, March 19, 1991). Buildings have been torn down, and rebuilt in brick, cement and tin. The chashma (natural spring) that emerged from the earth behind Aziz Shah’s kuthar has dried up, and only a muddy depression now marks the spot. Ghulam Afzal walked with us around the hamlet amidst squawking chickens and curious children, pointing out the sights– ‘this is where the Abli Dar’s old kuthar stood, that there- is his new house…this is the wood shed in which I hid, this is the nallah along which Naba ran, this used to all be clear ground then…’ For some reason, seeing those buildings brought home to me an intimation of what it was like to be a man from Kunan-Poshpora on that night, in a way even their words hadn’t.
What was it like, I found myself imagining, to be squatting in your own snowy barn yard, drowning in your tin bucket, broken and blubbering on your hard granary floor, blinded by chillies from your own store? And then all the hypotheticals began, as my mind ran on and on. How did it feel I wondered to hear the sounds coming from the village? Yah Khudaiyo! Yah Khudaiyo! Could you hear them over the sounds of the interrogation? Pakistan, Militants, Samaan, Information, Bol Saala! Could you hear them over the groans of your neighbours? Could you hear them over your own yells? Which was worse–to definitely identify the scream of a loved one, or merely contemplate if it was them, through the fog of your insensibility? What was it like to be told you could leave in the morning, to be given painkillers by the army doctor, (Capt. Dr Shyam Sundar accompanied the unit according to his own police statement), to come home and realise what had seemed so far like a recurring nightmare—another crackdown, agonising but vaguely familiar –had been another kind of visitation altogether? And then, to unable to leave or get help for two days, because of the army siege around the village? To have no family or neighbours to turn to, because everyone you knew, was in precisely the same state as you? What kind of courage did it take to be Abdullah the compounder, from neighbouring Trehgam who snuck into the village using the back route through Chopan Mohalla, to deliver what analgesics and first-aid he could knowing it to be hopelessly inadequate? Or most unimaginably of all, to be Abdul Wani. To return from an over night business trip to Srinagar and find your front door broken, your two sons in bed electrocuted, your wife and three daughters raped, and your family’s barn turned into the village torture chamber? How does one live with such knowledge? And having held one’s peace for twenty two years, how does one begin to tell a stranger with a note book, not about what was done to the women, not about what was done to the never to be named teenaged girls, but what was done to you, to your own aging and scarred body, all those many years ago?
That night is full of other kinds of silences, not as innocent but just as tortured. What can one say of Abdul Ghani, the police constable who was related to several families in the village who accompanied the soldiers on their rounds, and signed a ‘No Objection Certificate’ (NOC) the next morning stating that the villagers had no complaints? He appears in many accounts like some kind of will o’ the wisp with a torch light— relaying messages between houses and family members; accompanying one man back to his home to fetch more firewood, allowing him to peep in through the windows and see his wife on the kitchen floor but not to enter; giving water to a woman with a broken spine; getting locked in a cow shed for remonstrating with soldiers; carrying a cousin home on his back in the morning, weeping as he related what he had witnessed. How do we begin to disentangle the betrayal, the subversion, the unlooked for kindness of it all? Constable Abdul Ghani Dar’s statement of what he heard, saw, and did that night, would have formed a crucial part of the prosecution evidence, if the case ever comes to be tried in a court of law. But ‘unidentified gunmen’ murdered Abdul Ghani in his bed in 1993, pumping thirty bullets into his gut, rendering his words hearsay, and obliterating them from the legal record.
Several other critical eyewitnesses have died in twenty two years, including Sharif-ud-din Sheikh who led the fight to get the police report registered and the case heard in the State Human Rights Commission. Some have died as a result of their rape or torture that night, others from age, bullets or disease. By some estimates from villagers, fifteen of the rape survivors have had hysterectomies. Along the way I lost count of the many other surgeries, unsuccessful treatments, chronic aches, intolerable pains and nameless ailments I heard described. One, however stood out. Lal Dar, whose knee was shattered by a rifle-butt early in the proceedings, and who spent most of the night sprawled in the snow outside his home watching the comings and goings of the men, said that he subsequently had two surgeries, the second to remove his knee cap. He said he could not bend his left leg any longer. He finds it hard to pray.

A Meeting in the Park
Impressions and reflections on meeting the survivors of the mass rape at Kunan Poshpora, at the Sher- e-Kashmir Park in Srinagar on Human Rights Day, 2013

It came as a surprise. I don’t think any one, even amongst the organisers of the event at Sher- e Kashmir Park, on December 10th, had expected that women from the two villages would come. It was assumed that the survivors would be represented by members of the Village Committee, elderly men folk from Kunan and Poshpora, themselves survivors of the mass torture that took place on the night of February 23rd-24th, 1991. But the women had come, almost thirty of them. They had arrived in Srinagar by Matador van, leaving their homes in Kunan and Poshpora at seven in the morning, when the frost was still hard on their windows. I had met some of them before, but it was different seeing them here in Srinagar. I couldn’t remember all their names; their biographies had come detached from their faces. Many of them hugged me.
I remembered S. though, one of the more outspoken survivors I had met— her sharp, twinkly eyes behind thick, black rimmed granny glasses, her wide smile full of crooked teeth, in a face wrinkled and brown like a walnut. We had met at Kunan, in August 2013, when I accompanied a legal research team, from Jammu and Kashmir Coalition of Civil Society (JKCCS) who was representing them in their recently renewed litigation against the Indian army. She had spoken fiercely about the injustice of it all; the many outrages that she read about everyday in the papers, her desire to see such criminals behind bars for life. Her anger was loud and visceral. But when it came to the actual events of that night, she had refused to answer any questions. She had a terrible headache, she said. She could not wait, she had blood pressure, she was dizzy—she had to leave, she always felt like this when she thought of that night, she would not talk to us anymore. It was the only interview that had to be abandoned half way. Today, she was complaining about the long journey, ‘bumping-bumping-bumping all the way.’ ‘We should have come by Sumo’, she grumbled. But, it seemed to me that despite this, she couldn’t quite mask her delight at being out in the sunshine. In the open, amidst the falling leaves, outside the shadows of their men folk, their kitchens, their village, the women grew garrulous. S. told me of her daughters, one married to a doctor, the other working at the Social Welfare Department. At one point, Gul Fatima, from the Association of Parents of Disappeared Persons, wife to a disappeared man, came over to the group of Kunan Poshpora’s women. ‘Where are you from?’ she asked them. ‘From Kupwara’ S. replied, naming the district. Then, a shadow seemed to cross her face. ‘Kunan – Poshpora’ she said. We’re here from Kunan Poshpora.’
Many of the women from Kunan Poshpora, did not wish to be photographed. The cameras made them uneasy. Some of their children, and grand children they said, did not know their stories. They huddled together and covered their faces with scarves, but the photographers persisted. It felt undignified– cringing behind shawls, cowering under ‘We Demand Justice for Kunan Poshpora’ posters, being asked to join the circle and sit in the appropriate place like an errant schoolgirl, when one had wandered away to avoid the cameras. In 2004, Manipuri women activists protesting the rape and killing of Thangjam Manorama had shocked us by their dramatic inversion of the figure of the cowering and shamed raped woman. Stark naked, they had stood in front of the Assam Rifles Base at Imphal, holding a banner that read ‘Indian Army Rape Us’. The photograph had made headlines across the world. I thought of it as I pleaded with a particularly intrusive photographer on behalf of the women to ‘please respect their privacy’. At this, he turned around and asked me, ‘Why have they been asked to come here, then?’ .I didn’t really have a good answer. It is true. We do need them. We want to have their pictures. We want to put faces to their tragedies, to commemorate their losses and violations. We need them to remind us that we remember, that we have not lost the battle against forgetting yet.
After I got home, the women of Kunan Poshpora, and their attitude to the news-cameras, made me think of a question. Would the agitations against the Shopian rapes in 2009, have been so angry, so volatile, so strong, if Asiya and Neelofar had lived? If they had survived, would we have heard of them at all? And if we had, what particular stories would we hear? Perhaps their rapes would have been covered up, as so many have been in the villages of Kunan and Poshpora, in the name of marriages, families, reputations, futures, for the sake of preserving innocence. A raped dead body makes for an uncomplicated heroine– worthy of both victimhood, and martyrdom. But a living rape survivor is a different being altogether. Her speech and her silences are more fraught. The women of Kunan Poshpora have been voices, not victims through these twenty three years. They have spoken back to the forces of occupation, before media crews, independent fact finders, the police, the state human rights commission and the courts of law. But, they constantly remind us– by covering up before our cameras, by getting dizzy, by blanking out, by her reticence before our questions, that we are all incriminated in her secret yet public shame.

https://kafila.online/2014/01/20/kunan-poshpora-the-other-story-shrimoyee-nandini-ghosh/

Not that he wrote this tweet, of course, but why can't these pompous windbags ever talk like normal people?
After having been away from Church assignments for several weeks due to some serious health challenges, I am pleased to begin slowly returning to work. Pat and I have been touched by the cards, notes, thoughts, and especially by the prayers you have offered in our behalf. Your sweet gestures during this demanding time have reminded us that God watches over us, that we can always trust in Him, and that He very often answers our prayers through other people.
On days when we feel we have been pushed to our limit, we are reminded that we won’t be pushed beyond our faith. The old adage is, “man’s extremity is God’s opportunity.” We won’t discover just how much strength we do have until it is tested, refined, and tested again.
Often—perhaps usually—it is the difficult, demanding times of our lives that are the growth periods—the defining periods. They are the ones that take us from who we are now to who we are meant to be.

One year ago I stood before you and told you of the threat we face. I told you of the tyrant, of the inhuman army he had brought with him and the threat he posed to all we hold dear. I told you, and you listened. You listened and you understood, understood what had to be done, what sacrifices needed to be made and you stood ready to make those sacrifices.
We sought allies and we found those of the other tribes receptive to our words, promises were given, pledges were made, and alliances were forged.
Not half a year ago I stood before you once again and told you of the alliance we had formed and how we would take the fight to the tyrant before his machines were ready to face us. Our forces were numerous, our allies were strong and our wills unshakable.
Today I stand before you again, I stand before you to tell you that I was mistaken.
I believed our alliance was strong, I believed that honor, duty and brotherhood still meant something in this world.
I do not blame the tribe of the central plains, the tyrant’s army stood ever watchful amongst their numbers and the tyrant himself claimed their chieftain as his concubine. I do not blame them no, they were on their knees before they had a chance to stand.
The Stone men of the north, those I blame. Once I had called their chieftain brother and with my brother we carved our resolve to oppose the tyrant into the very mountain they call home. I thought the stone men warriors like we, made hard by the hard lands they live in, but I was mistaken. Their hardness was only skin deep and that skin cracked easily when the tyrant offered them an easier way to live. They let sloth take hold of them and it exposed just how weak and soft they were beneath their stone skin. To stand became too taxing for the lazy stone men of the north and they found life easier on their knees.
The wind singers of the west I never had high hopes for, their allegiance changes with the wind, but I hoped they would see how the Tyrants would clip their wings. But before the fickle folk of the west was able to see the truth in our words the Tyrant had already set his plan in motion. He used his magic to tear the very land apart and cast it into the sky. He placed his army of machines onto those islands of the sky and from there they rain death upon any Wind singer who would try to take off towards freedom. So the song of wind singers have gone quiet, their song no longer soars through the air, instead their cries echo between the cliffs.
In the east the royal family of the great lake claimed they possessed both wisdom and humility, but I found only cowardice and arrogance in their throne room. Their king had sat the throne from over a hundred years and he swore to act should the tyrant prove a threat to his people. We sent word to him that the time had come to act and his response was as far from wisdom as any man can get. “No army of metal and magic can approach my gates, so I see no threat from the tyrant.“
The arrogance, the hubris, the pure simple stupidity...
As he promised no army breached his gates, his hall was never ransacked and his people never had to raise their weapons for war. But the Tyrant did not need to storm his gates, his islands between the clouds moved far beyond where and from there he worked his magic. Not a drop of water fell on that great lake during the rainy season and when the tyrants stepped into the throne room the king of a mere puddle lowered his knees to a floor as dry as our own desert.
So I stand before you today and I tell you this: We stand alone against the tyrant.
We stand alone against his machines, his magic and against the very allies we tried to raise against him.
I tell you this because you need to know where we stand: we stand in the sand our mothers raised us in, we stand in the sand our mothers trained us in, we stand in OUR sand.
I tell you this because you need to know how we stand: we stand without his machines in our midst, we stand with bodies hardened to the core, we stand firm with the will to act quickly and decisively, and we stand without the delusions of those who have lived safe lives behind their walls.
And we will do more than simply stand where others kneeled, we will act! We will act with more strength than the stone men, more speed than the wind singers, more wisdom than those of the great lake, and most importantly we will act with the ferocity of the desert. We will move in the soft glow of the stars, strike from the shadows and grasp victory in the darkness. We will do what others are unable or unwilling to do, for we understand that it must be done. We will rip the tyrant’s accursed power from his hands and use it against him.
He would rule us from that monument to his ego he calls his castle but I swear to you all that I shall never bend my knee to his rule. The tyrant wields light to burn away all who stand against him, so I shall wield a darkness so deep it could swallow the sun and I will snuff out his light like the smallest candle.

Hello,
First let me introduce myself, my name is Jake. I love walking especially when the weather is nice, I like to hangout with my dog after work and watching TV like Youtube or television and sometimes Netflix and chill. I love video games and many other things. I like getting to meet all the different people online. I feel like everyone on here is unique and different in there own way. I'm gonna be honest tho it's been very hard for me to meet "the one" for me. It's been hard getting or keeping a girls attention and I feel like it's extremely hard to get put in a social situation for me to get to meet a nice woman for me someday. It would feel special to have a good connection and have someone to share my life with. I was thinking we can start off by voice chatting and sharing pictures to get to know eachother better. If your interested in meeting me feel free to dm me. ( I work from 7:00 AM EST to 3:30 PM so I might not respond much during those times) Here is a picture of me to get an idea of what I look like. https://ibb.co/ZgYprTh

So I was always informed its best to stick to your social class when having affairs. Which I agree it prevents blackmail, trophy hunting, and much more. The problem I seem to have is I check all the boxes for one but my career people tend to not understand. I have a Bachelors degree, make over six figures yearly, own my home(technically still paying my mortgage). I have hobbies outside of just watching TV, or sitting in front of a game console. The thing that usually leads to me being ghosted or to the I'm sorry it's not gonna work out is when I tell them I'm a repossession agent. Yeah I know its not no business man, or lawyer and doctor but I don't understand. You guys not paying your car notes or something? I will say it tends to be online is where I struggle with people the most. My last AP I met cause I repoed her husband's Lexsus. Wild turn of events but I guess should I just stop telling people what I do and just say I'm in business at some level?

I need some advice on what to do for my daughter who is 8 and about to be 9. She has ADHD and is on medication for it. She absolutely loses it over bugs. I mean full on screaming hysteria. She is in therapy to deal with this issue. Today we were on our way to gymnastics camp when she saw a gnat in the car and just went hysterical, kept trying to open the car door and then eventually threw a cup of water on me in an effort to kill the gnat. We did not go to gymnastics camp and instead she is at home with me watching me work all day. I just don’t know what else to do here. We are already on medication and in therapy. What else can we try?