The koop korean chicken and cuisine

StupidFood : Food. Point. Laugh.

2015.04.11 11:11 Clackpot StupidFood : Food. Point. Laugh.

A place to lambast idiotic methods of serving food, or any other epicurean inanity worthy of ridicule.

2008.01.25 08:33 Welcome to /r/Food on Reddit!

The hub for Food Images and more on Reddit

2012.11.11 17:55 realone550 Y'all come on now, we're fixing to eat.

A collection of pictures, videos, and recipes of mouthwatering food from the Southern U.S. with a side of ice cold jug of sweet tea or lemon sweet tea, or Coca Cola. Subscribe now!

2023.06.05 16:05 TheOneJoel Adult Swim Live Rip 06.05.2005

Hello TA Faithful
Today I am bringing you a LIVE RIP of Adult Swim from this day 18 years ago! This is a 3 hour block with a double dose of Family Guy, Robot Chicken, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Tom Goes to the Mayor, Sealab 2021, Venture Bros., and Home Movies! Grab it at the link below…
If you like these downloadable blocks then please come hang with us at RetroTVRevival for more nostalgia goodness!
submitted by TheOneJoel to ToonamiAftermath [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 16:03 TheOneJoel Adult Swim Live Rip 06.05.2005

Hello You RTR Lovelies!
Today I am bringing you a LIVE RIP of Adult Swim from this day 18 years ago! This is a 3 hour block with a double dose of Family Guy, Robot Chicken, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Tom Goes to the Mayor, Sealab 2021, Venture Bros., and Home Movies! Grab it at the link below…
Thank you all for being such great members of this community, and have a great day!
submitted by TheOneJoel to RetroTVRevival [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 16:02 mrivera813 Wife losing her mind!

Alright, I am scared to post this but I don't know how to help my wife besides motivate her and try IF with her. My wife has been doing IF (16:8) for only a week. She has reduced the amount of calories she's eating down to 1000-1500 per day but burns around 1000 calories on average per say. She is 48yrs young 5'5-5'6" she won't tell me what she weighs but if I had to guess I would say 165-170. (God I hope she never reads this!) I think she is a size 10 if that makes sense to anyone. we fast from 6pm-10am. We bike ride 10 miles every morning at 5:30am and then about 15-20 minutes later she gets on the treadmill and does walking and jogging intervals for about 3.2 miles takes her about 45 minutes and I go to the gym. Cardio wise I would say she is in good shape (Definitely better than I am). We have been bike riding like this for about 3 weeks. I have been doing IF 16:8 during the week and sometimes 18:6 on the weekends for 2 weeks now. I am 51 5'7" and I started at 217lbs. I am down 7-8lbs and have lost an inch off my waist. "Before" she started IF she lost several pounds obviously by just increasing her workout regimen. However, now that she started IF (Only a week ago) she has not lost any weight at all. She is extremely frustrated because it hasn't been easy for her to go hungry. I feel bad because of my success and want her to succeed as well. Not sure what she's doing wrong. If, anything at all. Our meals are normally the same because we fast around the same times. When she is able to eat she drinks a 160 calorie protein shake for breakfast with 30 grams of protein in it and 4 grams of carbs. Then for lunch she will sometimes make herself avocado toast using Ezekiel bread and 2 eggs or a tuna sandwich. I eat steak and eggs and sometimes a bagel, egg and cheese sandwich for breakfast. I drink several protein shakes (same ones she does) a day to try and keep my protein count up and have cut down on the carbs. I have lunches that I bring to work and for dinner we have both been eating grilled chicken salads. Here is where we differ. I drink regular water no sweetener. During her fast she drinks lemon water with 4 squirts of Stevia and that's it. Could that be spiking her insulin? She has one cup of coffee with zero sugar creamer and stevia a day when she's not fasting? Could that be it? I am at a stand still with her because she gets really "hangry" But I love her to death and just want to help. Sorry for the book! Any advice is extremely appreciated!
submitted by mrivera813 to intermittentfasting [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 16:01 gimmeurbreadpls I'm very happy that just pullups and dips can make you BULK UP!

My physique doing just pullups and dips
There's a lot more impressive physiques than mine on this sub, but I am very happy to know now that it is possible to bulk up with just pullups and dips!
That's basically the post, but if you are a beginner and want to get a physique like mine and eventually surpass it, feel free to read on.
  1. Goal = lumberjack physique = wide back, big powerful chest, big arms.
    1. I used to have a skinny fit physique in my teens and early 20's, which only revealed itself when I took my shirt off, otherwise I looked like any other skinny guy. After getting a dad bod after marriage, I decided I wanted a bulked up physique this time that actually looked good with a shirt on.
  2. Achieved goal? = No. About 70% of the way. Wife called me a gorilla the other day lol and actually wants me to slim down. So that's progress!
  3. Training period = 23 months so far (and hopefully for the rest of my life)
  4. Diet = Nothing special. I eat whatever (I'm a grad student in my 30's, so no income), just work out hard to compensate. White meat (chicken) with rice and veggies usually these days but I also eat instant noodles or takeout too. I also eat some protein after workout (eggs or yogurt or chicken).
    1. As I've been bulking up more, I've also been eating more calories.
  5. Supplements = None. No protein shakes or creatine = too much money. No steroids (as you can tell in the photos LOL).
  6. Routine = low reps x high sets = high total volume.
    1. I start my timer. 5 - 6 pullups. Next minute, 5 - 6 dips. Next minute, back to 5 - 6 pullups. Next minute, back to 5 - 6 dips.
    2. 60 minutes = 150 - 180 pullups and 150 - 180 dips.
    3. I do this for 2 days and then on the 3rd day I do a leg day (which I added after the recommendation of this sub). And then the 3 day cycle repeats. No rest days unless overly fatigued or in pain (which is different from soreness or discomfort), or if life just really gets in the way.
  7. Progression = I've been training for just under 2 years. If I remember correctly, I started with something like 10 sets of 3 pullups, 3 dips. (If you are a beginner who cannot do pullups or dips, you can do bodyweight rows and pushups instead and get almost the same intensity workout and same results). I progress in 2 ways, by either...
    1. Working on mastering my form. Minimizing my kipping and making sure to do full range of motion with each rep. So for pullups, down position means elbows fully extended (locked out) and up position means chin fully above the bar. Also doing the movement under control rather than relying on momentum to half ass the reps. So even if the rep count stays the same or even decreases because I am stricter on my form, I am progressing.
    2. Increasing the rep count in each set. That is why I'm doing 5 - 6 reps in my routine right now. 5 reps per set got a bit easy (150 pullups and 150 dips), but doing 6 reps for 30 sets is really challenging for me right now (180 pullups and 180 dips). So I am in the transition phase of doing 6 reps per set until it gets too difficult and then dropping down to 5 sets for the remainder of the workout (usually about 40 minutes in).
And that's basically it.
Some people may think this is overtraining, but I slowly built up to this over the last two years, making sure to stop immediately if I experienced any joint pain at all and taking a rest day if overly fatigued from the previous day's workout. Listening to my body and differentiating between mild soreness and actual pain helped me avoid any injuries.
After 2 years of this, I've come to the conclusion that too many beginners worry about overtraining when they should instead worry about undertraining. The people who I've seen undergo incredible physique transformations are those who workout a lot, not those who workout only a little out of fear of overtraining. Our bodies are capable of a lot more physical activity than we give them credit for.
Even for myself, although I still have a ways to go, I am now receiving compliments on my physique regularly. My male classmates (who I've known now for 2 years) are now calling me swole and my female classmates are now complimenting my fit. What I wear didn't change over the past 2 years but my physique did...I bulked up and fill out my shirts now which looks better than a skinny body in a shirt.
That's basically the post. Thank you for reading a fitness beginner's post. If you are also a beginner, I encourage you to work out consistently to see results! I think consistency is the key to success. I also recommend bulking up so your physique looks good in a shirt, which is going to be 99% of the time. I am much happier with this physique than when I was skinny fit in my teens with a 6 pack.
submitted by gimmeurbreadpls to bodyweightfitness [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:58 mbz321 This Popeye's didn't bother to remove a door decal from the previous tenant.

This Popeye's didn't bother to remove a door decal from the previous tenant. submitted by mbz321 to mildlyinteresting [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:53 Lumpy_Ad_3037 Amazing Adventure in Bali: Exploring Hidden Gems and Unforgettable Moments

I recently had the most incredible journey in Bali, and I couldn't wait to share my experiences with all of you. From stunning beaches to lush rice terraces, this tropical paradise has so much to offer beyond the popular tourist spots.
Exploring Hidden Gems: I embarked on a quest to discover Bali's hidden gems, and it was truly rewarding. I stumbled upon secluded waterfalls tucked away in lush jungles, picturesque villages with traditional architecture, and serene temples off the beaten path. These hidden gems allowed me to experience Bali's authentic beauty and connect with its rich cultural heritage.
Unforgettable Moments: Bali is a treasure trove of unforgettable moments. Witnessing breathtaking sunsets from cliffside viewpoints, trying out exhilarating water sports like surfing and diving, and indulging in mouthwatering local cuisine were just a few highlights. Whether it was hiking through scenic trails or immersing myself in the vibrant arts and crafts scene, each day was filled with excitement and awe.
Note: This post is fictional and created for illustrative purposes.
submitted by Lumpy_Ad_3037 to u/Lumpy_Ad_3037 [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:53 Bionic360 Subway Losing Touch with Relaity as a Fast Food Sub Sandwich

Can’t believe I walked into subway after a long time, expecting a fast food priced sandwich that I could quickly grab.
Walked in and found £10 subway !!! - what the hell? Subway losing touch with their own Buisness model.
Should not be charging this much for a sandwich it’s a joke. The model should be similar to every other fast food chain. Cheap and sweet and sell at mass quantity. I know I will never be going to a subway again - if for the same price as a sit down chicken katsu curry at Wagamama or a more expensive than a sunset burger at NANDOS. Subway ur gonna go bust 👌 u got mid food that doesn’t even fill you up and your charging restaurant prices
submitted by Bionic360 to subway [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:52 NewtPuzzleheaded880 Costco St. Louis Pork Spare Ribs

Korean style gojejung bbq sauce on 2 racks and rub on the other. Cooked naked at 225 setting. My traeger runs hot. Turned out really good but next time will cook 1 hour on smoke setting first and then at 190.
submitted by NewtPuzzleheaded880 to Traeger [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:50 cagivamito I stepped into the world’s filthiest Popeye’s Chicken and really missed Gus

I was starving and hankerin’ for some fried chicken so I went into a Popeyes. This place was filthy. All I could think was that Gus would never have allowed that. His main Pollos Hermanos location was probably the cleanest restaurant in the Western hemisphere.
submitted by cagivamito to betterCallSaul [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:45 Historical-Fox1009 Nutrition questions

Nutrition questions
Anyone want to help me with my nutrition? 37m 5'6" 155-150lbs. I started 75 hard memorial day, first 4 week diet is a "mini cut" looking to lose 1.5 lbs a week and reevaluate at 4-5 weeks. Thing is im down 5 lbs in a week. Am I just outworking my calorie intake? Is it water weight? Am I losing muscle? Posted pictures are my calorie breakdown. I eat the same thing everyday. Except Friday I had steak instead of chicken. Thanks for any input, also, this is my second time doing 75 hard.
submitted by Historical-Fox1009 to 75HARD [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:45 Celery416 Help - what's happening to our Jalapeno plants?

Help - what's happening to our Jalapeno plants?
Zone 9 - This is the 2nd time in the past week we've awoken to a toppled jalapeno plant. After the first time I added in a layer of diotamaceous earth to the top soil and last night we started to spray for caterpillars. Planted in a raised bed garden with chicken wire. Any idea what's causing this and what we can do to prevent our remaining plants? (3rd photo to show why we started spraying for caterpillars)
submitted by Celery416 to OntarioGardeners [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:43 tribli22 I’m compiling a list of /rsp Hall Of Fame posts

Right now the list consists of: - those text screenshots of the two young male idiots complaining about the gym girl they took on a date eating chicken McNuggets - the post the other week by a young lady who was wondering if all relationships are transactional and if that was such a bad thing (who later revealed she met her current boyfriend on Seeking Arrangements dot com)
What would you nominate?
submitted by tribli22 to redscarepod [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:41 TheYayaC Finally got my chickens back in their coop!!

My chickens have been roosting on a window sill for what feels like months now, I've just been hauling them back to their coop every night, i tried locking them in for a week, no dice. But I cleaned off the sill, and put bird spikes on it and after a while of them walking around the yard (about an hour later than usual) the hens went into the coop and the rooster begrudgingly followed! When I checked the camera (yes, there's a camera, I'm nosey) I yelled "THEYRE IN THE COOP" and ran down to close it up and my husband was thoroughly confused 😅
submitted by TheYayaC to chickens [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:40 AutoModerator [Download Course] Brett Kitchen & Ethan Kap – P2 Virtual Selling Accelerator (

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2023.06.05 15:38 Guilty_Chemistry9337 File 001- The Burnt Figure

On the morning of December 8th, 1941, enlistment offices all across the United States began to be filled by young men eager to enact revenge for what the Empire of Japan had done at Pearl Harbor. The offices would stay busy for a long, long time. It was a dangerous job, with life and limb at serious risk, and many more young men would join the Army and Navy by conscription. Lesser celebrated, and likely they’d have it no other way, were whole second armies of support personnel. These would be nurses, middle-aged clerks too old and or fat to fight, surveyors, engineers, and merchant sailors.
Some would be spies or intelligence men working for the Office of Strategic Services. Others were mysterious ne’er-do-wells, scoundrels who were very good at the procurement of various goods. Some would be anthropologists and translators, eager to help obscure native communities deal with the technologically advanced war tearing the island worlds asunder. Some would be entertainers for the USO, there to help with morale, doing what they were best at, whether it was telling jokes or dancing beautifully. Others might be war correspondents, to communicate, in a highly censored way, what was going on to the folks back home. Then there were the bean counters. Everybody overlooked the bean counters.
Many of the combat veterans, and even some of the non-combat personnel, would never make it home again. Others made it home, but only after being maimed and scarred in body and mind. Yet most would make it home. All of them would have stories to tell, though many would never tell their stories. There was a culture of silence during the war, ‘loose lips sink ships.’ It wasn’t just a catchy phrase, people took it to heart. It became a habit. Even long after the war was over people kept their lips zipped shut.
And yet, there were still millions and millions of stories, and some of them would be recorded. They might be memoirs committed to paper years later. Then again, many of these people kept diaries. They would write home every chance they get. Officers as a regular part of their duties were constantly writing up reports. Every single one would end up being read by someone, somewhere, and passed up the chain depending on its importance, or filed away if the chain ended there. With every battle won or lost, extensive analyses were conducted on what went right and what went wrong, and how we could do better. Actions of bravery were written up for recommendations for medals or promotions. Every serious infraction meant a court-martial, and court martials left transcripts. Bitter denouements and protests were written when it was felt officers weren’t living up to their duties, and in these cases, the lips were zipped especially tight, but the reports themselves were poured over. Every location where the U.S. went, whether it was the location of a battleground, a ranging area for artillery, site for a depot, or a road used to transport was thoroughly mapped and described in detail.
Then there were the bean counters. How many 20 mm shells does it take, on average, to knock down a Val dive bomber? How many pints of A-positive blood should be stocked in a forward field hospital? How many gallons of ice cream are needed to keep a company of Marines in good fighting spirit? The bean counters might not know, but they recorded everything down just in case you wanted to sift through the data, and a lot of people did. The data would end up having a massive contribution to the war effort.
Last were two groups of material that were never meant to see the light of day. The sort of thing that ought to be recorded, but then hidden away only for the purview of top men. The first is information you might expect would cause classification or a cover-up. Disastrous friendly fire incidents. Accusations and or confessions of war crimes. State secrets involving intelligence on enemies and allies both.
Then there’s the other tranche of material. The stuff that defies explanation. Secrets from the hidden corners of the earth that were never meant to be revealed until some young farmboys from a country far away showed up in places where they were never supposed to be.
The following provides an example.
Excerpts from the personal diary of Second Lieutenant Yvette Morgan, Army Nursing Corps, 231st Hospital Group, Normandy region of France, July and August 1944. Aged 20 at the time of writing.
Note: Most American personnel in WWII were restricted from keeping personal diaries for counterintelligence purposes. It was not uncommon that this restriction was flaunted, particularly among personnel with the luxury of a little bit of privacy. Lt. Morgan seems to have understood the purpose of the restriction, and so the redactions in the following excerpts are her own. A careful eye will note she’s made a couple of errors, which is why censorship should be left to the professionals.
July 30th, 1944- Just got off the truck and finally made it back ‘home.’ Just spent all ‘day,’ helping set up the field hospital. We’ve commandeered a high school in the little town of St. A. I think it’s going to work out pretty well. There’s a gym with a tall ceiling and high windows, which means good natural lighting, so we’re setting that up as an operating room. We’ve got about six beds in each classroom, which is just about the number you’d like. The corridors are nice and wide enough to handle gurneys, and there’s plenty of room out front for the ambulances. I don’t think we could have found a better location outside of a purpose-built actual hospital.
The real work starts tomorrow. Well, today, I guess. They ought to be taking patients right about the time I’m writing this. I drew the short stick, and now I’m stuck with the overnight shift. That’s my luck for you. Back home that would have meant at least it would be pretty quiet, but I don’t think that’s going to apply to this kind of duty.
“Home” is actually this nice little old cottage they’ve set me up with, and four other girls. It’s in the tiny commune of L. It’s actually about ten miles from the hospital, not far from the sea. Every shift they’re going to drive us back and forth in these trucks. Seems like an awful waste of gasoline to me, but what do I know? The whole reason they’re doing this is because the hospital’s technically in range of German artillery, and they like to keep staff like us out of harm's way when we’re not needed. I suppose we won’t be in range much longer anyway. That said, Capt. G says the front line’s been stalled out for a while. He says it’s slow going with all these enormous hedgerows they grow everyplace around here. I never knew they could grow so big, they must be hundreds of years old. I thought the poplar windbreaks they started growing back home after the Dust Bowl were impressive, but they’ve got nothing on these things. We can still hear the guns, though. They’re a long way off, and kind of sound like thunder, though you can tell they’re not because the sky is perfectly clear. At least, I hope, they’re mostly our guns.
The morning’s still a little chilly, but it promises to be a warm day. I’m going to have to get used to sleeping through it. After long last summer is really here. The cottage itself is lovely. I can’t help but wonder about the people who really make this home. There’s a delightful flower garden in front and just the most precious herb garden right outside the kitchen window. When I get married and we have a home, I’m going to insist on one just like it.
The other girls? Well, what can I say. 5 of us all sharing this little place, at least we’ll be working different shifts mostly. I’m sure we’ll get by swimmingly.
July 31st- Just got back and finished breakfast for dinner. Part of me still wishes I were at work. If I were at a civilian hospital I still would be. Funny how the military insists on sticking to the scheduled shift and they order me to go home and get some sleep. I might get used to such regimentation.
I say this as if I’m not completely exhausted and overwhelmed. I’m sure I’ll sleep tonight. Today, whatever. As I’d suspected, we had our first wounded in during the morning shift. Most of them had been through the Mobile Advanced hospital and had been at least looked over by a doctor. Plenty had already gone through an initial surgery, just to stabilize them, close gaping wounds, and tie off arteries. It was really crude stuff, but I suppose that’s the point. Our doctors opened them back up and fixed them up properly. There were a few walking wounded, shrapnel wounds, and nasty burns we were able to help out too. I feel glad to be part of such a great team. I spent the first half of my shift assisting in two different surgeries. Then the last half attending the wards.
I had hoped that would be more peaceful. Our boys are so brave, even when you can tell they’re really broken up over what they’ve been through. And yet it wasn’t meant to be.
I mentioned that St. A.’s was within range of German artillery. Well, there was an attack last night, early this morning, I’m still not used to the schedule. They didn’t hit the hospital. They hit the other side of town. It was loud enough to shake all of the windows, and even the ground shook. It scared the daylights out of me. Some of the boys yelled too. A couple of them fell out of their beds and tried to hide underneath. I can’t imagine what it would be like to go through that a second time, let alone time after time, day after day like our boys.
I was just starting to get things settled down and everything squared. Then there was commotion. A bunch of orderlies, then nurses, then doctors running around the front main hall. We were expecting wounded. They’d hit an old medieval church on the other side of town. The Church of Saint Adalthred. There had been a platoon of soldiers sleeping there. Now they were bringing the survivors in.
I had never done triage before, though I remembered my training. You divide the patients into three groups. The group that needs surgery absolutely immediately if they’re going to live. The group that can wait for surgery. And then there’s the group that will die regardless.
There were two young men that were in the last group. The first had a massive open head wound. The strange thing was he was perfectly conscious and capable of speaking, despite the injury. There was just nothing that we could do for him. He was alert for about an hour, and then he simply passed away. Is it horrible to think that was something of a mercy?
The other suffered terrible burns, and apparently some of the blast as well. After the triage, I was assigned to care for him. The doctor had estimated over 90 percent of his body suffered burns in the third degree. The kind of amount that really makes you question your faith. I’ve seen burn patients, but not when they get first arrive like this. His eyes and ears were gone. A strange thing was, he wasn’t screaming like we’d expect burn patients to do. The doctor said his vocal cords were burnt out, but his lungs were relatively free of smoke damage, and he didn’t have that horrible cough. The doctor said it was like “he’d inhaled flame.” He was simply silent. He’s not expected to last the night. Day, I mean. I suppose I won’t see him again. I suppose that’s mercy too.
I mentioned yesterday that I think a school building serves as a fine hospital in a pinch. I’m not sure about that anymore. It’s the ventilation. There isn’t any in the school. Fumes from the ether linger everywhere. So does the stink of infection, no matter how much we fight it. And that last patient. It was like he was roasted. Literally. I thought I’d be sick.
August 1st- The truck ride back is starting to become my favorite part of the day. This one was a long one, despite being the exact same length as all the other shifts. We’re really packed now. The minute we get one patient ready for transport back to England, another takes his bed. They say the war might be over before Christmas. I hope. Don’t know how I’ll be able to keep up this pace for so long.
The little old priest whose church got blown up by the Germans came around to volunteer at the hospital. Poor old thing has nowhere else to go. He’s helping us roll bandages, working the autoclaves, and helping the chaplain out with the prayers. He seems to be helping with morale, god bless him. Particularly the chaplain’s. The priest doesn’t speak English and the chaplain doesn’t speak French, but they both speak Latin well enough to get by. I’ve never heard it spoken before. I grew up Lutheran, and it seems so strange. I’m a long way from home.
The burn patient is still alive. I was really surprised when I got in and found out. Apparently so are the doctors. Of course, I’m attending him again and was asked to change his bandages. Most of the rest of his skin that hadn’t already sloughed off last night did so while I was changing them. I didn’t see any sign of infection yet, though of course, we all know what’s coming. Other than that there wasn’t much I can do. He’s started letting off this low moan. The doctor said he was not really conscious. I can’t imagine he would be, he’s still getting so much morphine.
He was already bleeding through before my shift ended, so I thought I’d do the next shift a favor and take care of it a second time on the same shift. This time the doctor had me place his arms over his chest and belly, and bandage them all together. Also, he had me bandage his legs together. The doctor said that if there’s a miracle and somehow he manages to pull through, it will be because he somehow beat the infection. And if he’s going to have any chance at all then we’ll need to minimize his contact with bandages until can receive grafts. When I was done he ended up looking like a mummy, right out of the pictures. I don’t think it will matter much, and neither does the doctor. But we have to keep trying.
August 2nd- Just got back. The burn victim is still alive. It’s so strange. It’s all I can think about now. When I first got in I went straight to his room. I was absolutely shocked, it was gruesome. His bandages were positively soaked through. There was more red than white. I was just about to chew out the girl on the shift before me. I thought that nobody had changed the bandages since my last shift, but then she told me that she’d just changed them two hours previously. I couldn’t make head or tales of it. So I just got to work changing them myself. It felt so odd, the way the other patients in the room were looking at us. Like they knew there was something off about the whole thing. The patient’s moaning is getting louder too. It must be so unnerving to the others sharing the room.
Then, of all things, Maj. P and Col. S came in to observe. I haven’t seen either of them since we started setting up the hospital. They don’t usually stay up so late. They were washed up and decided to help me bandage the patient. As if they weren’t just there to observe me, but wanted to be a part of it too.
Sure enough, after only a couple of hours, the bandages were soaked through again. I’ve never seen such terribly bleeding. I asked the doctor if it could have possibly been hemophilia. It’s something I’ve only heard about but haven’t seen. He only shook his head like he was sure that it wasn’t. Yet he also looked even more confused than I was. We’ve been giving the patient transfusions. But at this rate, I just don’t know where it’s all coming from.
I know I shouldn’t be writing this sort of thing down, but the doctor confided that he’s thinking of reducing the morphine, maybe the patient will be more lucid. I don’t know how the doctor expects him to communicate with his vocal cords destroyed, or what he could possibly have to say even if he could talk. Well, it’s not my place to decide. I think he knows more about what’s happening to the poor man than I do.
It was all just blood too. In the bandages. No pus at all. I don’t know how he’s not becoming infected.
August 3rd- There’s a great deal of strangeness happening at the hospital. I saw the General’s staff car the moment our truck pulled around to drop us off, the little flags on the front gave it away.. Instead of starting my shift, they asked me to come back to Col. S’s office. My first thought was that I was in trouble, and they’d somehow find this diary. Both Maj. P and Col. S. were there, along with Gen C. who’d driven down from Corps HQ with a couple of his staff. There were also two men from what might have been regular Army, except they wore two long dark coats. I didn’t get their names.
Apparently, they’d all been there for hours and were wanting to debrief me. Well, it sure was intimidating, but they just wanted me to tell them what I’d seen. Fair enough. The patient was burned all over his body. He probably should have died the first night but hasn’t. There’s an awful amount of bleeding which I can’t account for. There’s also no pus or smell of infection, which also didn’t make sense. I told them about how he’s been given large amounts of morphine, though I didn’t say what Cap. H had said about reducing it. No, he had never been capable of speaking since brought in. No, he hadn’t been wearing his dog tags, but between the blast, and the length of time he’d been burning, he must have stripped everything off. Surely they were back in the rubble of that church. Then they thanked me and told me I could go back to work.
Well, I’d just about had it. I stood up and demanded that if they knew something about my patient that they weren’t telling me and that if they did I could take better care of him, well then they had better tell me. I think I even swore though I didn’t mean to. Maj. P almost laughed and Col. S just gave me that stupid patronizing smile. Told me I was already doing everything that I could, and that they were proud of me. He’s a good man, but I’m getting really sick of this Army “that’s on a need-to-know basis” crap.
Rest of the shift was just the usual. Strange how it's become the norm now. No, there was something else. The burn patient was in his room by himself. They’d moved the other beds out. They didn’t tell me why. Probably because his moan’s getting worse. And raspier. I still don’t think he’s out of the morphine stupor though.
Alright, it’s later the same day, the second. I’ve just woken up and had a serious chat with Kathy, the nurse from the second shift, and she’s had a lot to talk about. Rumors are swirling. I don’t know how much of this is true. My gut instinct? It’s all true.
Those men in the long coats? The rumor is they were Army Intelligence. That didn’t make a lick of sense to me at first, but then it started to come together. It turns out there were supposed to be 30 men, including the C.O., in that church that night it got shelled. Nobody else. Except when they added up all the survivors (who’ve moved on to the front), all the wounded that were taken to our hospital, and those who died, which took a while to count, then it all added up to 31 men. So somebody was there who wasn’t supposed to be there, and nobody knows who it is. They think they’ve got all of the dog tags accounted for, which might have been why they asked me about it when I came in later that night. And the one person they can’t account for seems to be the burn victim.
So they didn’t know who it was. Nobody from the St. A.’s was missing. None of the French Resistance were around that night (apparently Intelligence asked them? How else would they know?). So it's really suspicious and they were worried he might be some kind of spy or infiltrator. They still don’t even know why that church was shelled in the first place.
So they started asking questions of that poor old priest who’s been volunteering. We know because they let the chaplain sit in with him, but it seems both of the intelligence guys spoke fluent French. They asked him if there were any kind of acolyte or initiate or whatever sort of junior clergy he might have could have been there. He said no, and anybody who might have was accounted for and healthy. He asked if there was anything valuable that could have been stolen, or maybe he feared could be looted (would our boys do that?). Well, he didn’t think so. There was the holy font, which was an antique, but there were many like it and it was hardly easy to move. There was the Bible at the altar. It was very old and had great sentimental value, but again it would have no value to thieves. There was the tomb of St. Adalthred himself, which was priceless to his community but was a part of the church itself. Why the church had been built in the first place. Impossible to steal.
Then they asked the priest to come and view the patient. Perhaps seeing his proportions, perhaps it might have helped him recollect a similar person he’d seen lately. I understand why they did it. He, the burn victim, does seem shorter than any soldier I’ve met, skinner too. I wish they hadn’t, though. The chaplain said the priest had cried over seeing all those bloody bandages. There wasn’t a point, because the priest said he didn’t recognize him. The strange thing was, the chaplain had said that the priest's behavior seemed really strange. Like they got the really strong sense that the priest was being cagey, and lying to them. Not that he recognized the figure per se, but that he was thinking of something that he wasn’t telling them. He also insisted on saying a prayer over the burnt figure before he left, and they let him.
When I asked why they’d moved all the other beds in the room, Kathy said a little while after the priest had left the burn victim had started screaming, really bad. The other patients asked if they could leave the room, and because of the mystery, Col. S. agreed to it so they could isolate the burnt man. He was only calmer when I arrived later because they’d given him more morphine. When Kathy told me how much my jaw hit the floor. That part has to be baseless rumor.
August 8- I’m back in England. I’ve been too worked up to write, and worried, of course. After it happened, they put me in a truck, drove me to L. to pick up my things, and then I was on a Skytrain back to Cornwall. I guess we stopped at the cottage as a courtesy, it was on the way to the airfield. I was worried they’d find this diary, but they never searched. I don’t think they know what to do with me. I’m not sure what they should do either. They might just send me home, I suppose. I wouldn’t protest that. I just want to get on with things.
So. That night. The 4th.
I’ll start when I get off the truck. That moment when you hit the ground after jumping out of the bed is so sharp like it just sets your whole day. Like a starter pistol at a race. Something about it seemed off just as I was walking towards the door. Now I get in, and the front gallery, ever since that night of the triage, is a pretty empty place. But somebody was waiting for me, and it was Col. S. He came right up to me the moment he saw me. What an upside-down experience.
He starts leading me down the side hall, towards the back of the hospital/school where his office was. So of course I expected he needed to talk to me about something in his office. Only it turned out it wasn’t his office anymore. I thought something was off when I saw two armed guards on either side of the door to his often. Almost as soon, I heard the screaming.
I have just enough time to puzzle together what’s happened when Col. S walks right in, me in tow. They’d moved the burn patient to Col. S’s office, and he’d cleared out. The reason was obvious. The patient was screaming. Really, really loud. It hurt my ears in such a small office. The office was as about as far removed from the rest of the patients as they could move him. His bandages were soaked through, totally bright red. Jet red? Is jet red a thing? If you saw him, you’d say it was. It looked like they had been in the middle of starting to change his bandages, or just about to finish. Because there were parts of his flesh that were exposed. I didn’t realize it at first, and could only tell because of the texture.
I was just staring at him for a while. Jaw wide open. Then I looked at Col. S. He had been watching my reaction. He had such a sympathetic look. I asked him “How long has he been like this?”
“For hours,” he said. Like he was apologizing.
“How much morphine did you give him?” I asked. He was a doctor in his own right, of course. He didn’t get a chance to perform much surgery now that he’s the administrator, but I don’t think that ever leaves you.
He looked like he was about to cry.
“Lethal?” I asked.
“More,” he whispered.
We stood there silent for a few moments. Then he explained the situation. The only people allowed in the room would be doctors. Myself, and he explained I was the nurse with the most experience with him, and that I was the one he trusted the most. I’d have no other duties this shift. The chaplain was allowed in, and the priest. Also, the two guards out front, and that was it. He told me “The men from intel will be back, and a couple of spooks. We’ll figure it out then.” I had no idea what he meant by that, but I just nodded.
Well, the chaplain was there, though he looked a total mess. And it turned out the priest had stayed late but had gone home, exhausted.
So I did my duties. Changed bandages. Changed IV bottles. There were two chairs in the room, one for me and one for the chaplain. With only the one patient sometimes I’d wait. We couldn’t really chat. The screaming was too loud. I don’t think either of us got used to it.
I suppose it was about 3 AM. Mom used to call that the witching hour. Around three it started to change. The screaming that is, the cadence of it. Is that the right word? He started screaming words. Very garbled, but words. That was when I remembered the doctor had said his vocal cords had been destroyed. Had he been wrong? It had to be. Both I and the chaplain were standing over him then. The chaplain whispering prayers. Sometimes we’d look at each other like maybe the other knew what was happening. There were no answers.
The words started getting clearer. Not that we understood them, but they kind of sounded like they were French. Both I and the chaplain thought he, the patient, was becoming lucid. The chaplain opened up the door and told the guards to get the colonel, also to send somebody to find the priest. I suppose anybody could have translated, or so I thought at the time, but getting the priest sounded right.
Well, the colonel wasn’t in, but Maj. P. was. He spoke a little French, but he couldn’t understand the words. I’m still glad he was there. As a witness. I’m glad me and the chaplain weren’t the only ones. It was like the patient was chanting.
It was, maybe ten minutes after the major arrived. The screaming just stopped. No words. Just heavy breathing. Hyperventilating maybe. It occurred to me then that the bandages had become soaked through again. I’d been there the whole time. Watching. Only now had I noticed. He was glistening. The bedding was bloody too, of course. It was everywhere. And then…
Then it happened.
I had been facing another direction. But there was a sound. Like a massive, loud inhalation of are. There was this bright light, like when a lightbulb is about to short out. Except I felt the heat, and I turned. The patient had burst into flames.
I screamed. I think the chaplain and major did too. The two guards ran in. Maybe they sent somebody else to fetch the priest. They just yelled and weren’t able to do anything else. In a normal circumstance, I think somebody would have fetched an extinguisher. Except the patient suddenly sat straight up in his bed. We were positively paralyzed. He was screaming again, and all we could do is watch. His bandages and bedding all burned away. Only then he stopped.
There was this man before us. He had no skin. No eyes. Glistening red, and patches of black where the ash still clung to him. He looked at us. Looked at me. There were two black holes in his face, above the hole for his nose, and his mouth, lips burned away and teeth missing. But the holes for his eyes… I could feel him looking at me despite having no eyes.
Then he spoke. It was French again, at least I thought. I couldn’t understand it. Full sentences. Raspy, but clear. No sign of pain or duress. Yet it was authoritative like he was in full command of his faculties.
I don’t think it lasted long before the priest came rushing in. The priest said something like “sortie” and then the Major told us to get out, the chaplain and I.
We did and closed the door behind us. The two guards were further down the hall, clearly rattled.
We could hear the priest and the burned man talking. Clearly, through the door. The burned man was distinguishable by the rasp in his voice, the commanding tone. Yet as we listened, there was something off. The burned man’s French was different than the priest’s French. It was like they didn’t understand each other. It was like they were speaking two different dialects, and I didn’t realize until I heard them both being spoken next to each other.
There was a pause of silence. And then the priest started speaking in Latin. I saw a look of relief on the chaplain’s face when the burned man responded, also in Latin.
The two spoke, the burned man and the priest. They went on and on, me not understanding any of it. The burned man seemed to calm, the priest becoming more anxious as they went. Then I turned to the chaplain again. His attention was totally focused on the closed door, but he was listening to the priest and the burned man talk.
He was shaking, and pale as a ghost. I’ve seen men shake. I’ve seen them shake from the effects of blood loss and shock. I’ve seen them shake because they’ve been mad from war. I’ve seen them shake from hypothermia and hypoglycemia and drug overdoses. I’ve seen no end of fear in their eyes. Fear as they’re going under anesthesia, or having their limbs removed, or knowing they’re about to die from their wounds.
I’ve never seen a man so afraid or shaken than that chaplain on that night. And all because he was able to follow that conversation in Latin.
The door suddenly opened. The priest waved us aside, looking more determined than I’d ever seen him. We pressed ourselves against the wall to get out of the way. The burned man followed him. Silent. Walking. We watched them walk down the hallway. The guards turned and fled. Then the priest and the burnt figure turned the corner, and that was the last that I saw of them.
I remember looking back into the room and seeing the Major, slumped in a chair, hands covered his face. The smoke from the burning bandages and bedding still hung in the air, sweet and strong and foul due to the lack of ventilation.
The two men in the long coats showed up. There were also a couple of men in suits. Civilians, I guess. They sort of took charge. Then they just put me on a truck, didn’t even ask me any questions.
And that’s what happened.
I’ve been on this base for a couple of days. They seem to be giving me a lot of freedom, they let me go into town yesterday. I went to a library. It wasn’t a very big one, but I guess it didn’t need to be. I found a hagiography. Or, I guess, a sort of encyclopedia on the subject of saints.
There was a very small entry on the subject of Saint Adalthred. Very little was known about him. He’d been a saint in early medieval France. He’d preached to royalty. The Marrowvingians I think it said, I don’t know what that is. Like all saints, he’d performed three miracles. Like all saints, he’d been martyred. He’d been burned at the stake. His last miracle had been his own resurrection.
I don’t know what to do with this diary. I never should have started it, and yet I think it’s important that I did. I think I’m going to turn myself in and give it to them. I suppose they’ll court-martial me over it, send me home. I don’t want to go home, but maybe I deserve it. At any rate, clearly, there are higher powers than me at work here.
-End copy.-
All of the documentation by the U.S. during the war was massive. All of the officers, nurses, spies, bean counters, and everybody else contributed to the pile. This was long before the digital age, or even microfiche, so the sheer scale of the paperwork is hardly conceivable. It could have been measured by the cargo holds of liberty ships.
After the war, the Army and Navy needed someplace to store it all. Any of it could have had unforeseen value, and destroying it was never an option. In 1951, with the Korean War raging and threatening to exacerbate the document problem, the Department of Defense decided to build a massive new warehouse archive to store it all. In 1956, the Military Personnel Records Center was finished. Ostensibly the archive was meant to store personnel records, but the military being the military, and the warehouse being of such a huge scale, it housed other records as well. Records such as the nurse’s diary, records of things unnatural. Supernatural. Only to be seen by top men.
One of the items discussed during the facility’s construction was the inclusion of a sprinkler fire prevention system. There was a concern that such a system could leak, and cause water damage to all the important documents. So the archive was built without one.
In 1973 the building burned down, taking millions of documents with it. The cause was never officially determined. At the time, and for many years after, the biggest problem was the bureaucratic nightmare it caused for millions of veterans and collecting the benefits they were entitled to.
To a very small community, namely us, the damage was a travesty. That’s the purpose of this project. To retrieve the documentation, study, and catalog it, this entry is only the first example. Naturally, the question arises- how do we retrieve these files if they were all destroyed in the fire? Well, that’s on a need-to-know basis, Lieutenant, and you don’t need to know.

Author's Notes: The War Files is meant to be an on-going series of horror stories set in and around WWII, and the very real Archive Fire. Maybe it would make a good podcast? This was sort of a pilot episode and thought it would fit the theme of this month's event. If you liked the story and want to read more, I'll probably post them either to my subreddit EBDavis or my substack
submitted by Guilty_Chemistry9337 to Odd_directions [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:37 Brockjaw Sites where someone in the US can buy clothes like or from Mizunos womens golf korean selection?

My fiancé started really getting into golf with me last year but she always has trouble finding clothing that she likes. She did however really enjoy the mizuno clothes she has seen posted but they only seem to sell them in Japan and Korea (mostly like solid colors that aren't too bright with also a nice design with the clothing it self). To her disappointment, the Mizuno USA site doesn't really carry much women's golf apparel.
the korean mizuno womens clothing shop
Does anyone know if there's a more legitimate way to buy these other than the semi sketchy online marketplaces like Lazada ( I've heard it can be hard to find a reputable seller here). Lazada did have a really nice brand called master bunny that had a similar style but I don't know if I can trust it.
Or alternatively, some clothing companies in the US/ships to US, that have a very similar style.
Thank you!
submitted by Brockjaw to golf [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:36 TospyKretts [H] Humble, Fanatical, and Console Games [W] Games/Digital Movies

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XEL 🎁 Turkiye-Syria Earthquake Relief Bundle
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Star Trek Online - Humble Trekkie Pack 🔑 Humble Jackbox Party Bundle
Star Trek Online: Klingon Elite Starter Pack 🔑 Humble Better Futures Bundle
Superbrothers: Sword & Sworcery EP 🎁 Humble Freedom Bundle
Sword Legacy: Omen 🎁
FlowCanvas 🔑 Humble Unity Bundle
UFPS: Ultimate FPS 🔑 Humble Unity Bundle
Fanatical Bundles
Airport Madness: World Edition 🔑 Mystery Bundle
Aveyond: Gates of Night 🔑
Enemy Mind x2 🔑
G Prime 🔑 Mystery Bundle
Next Up Hero 🔑 Mystery Bundle
Murder Miners 🔑
Postal 🔑 Mystery Bundle
Soulblight 🔑 Slayer Bundle
SPACECOM 🔑 Slayer Bundle
We Are The Dwarves 🔑 Mystery Bundle
Zombie Kill of the Week - Reborn 🔑 Mystery Bundle Steam Key
X-Morph Defense 🔑
PS4 - NA Bundles
Strider 🔑 Humble Capcom PlayStation Bundle
PS3 - NA Bundles
Wolf of the Battlefield: Commando 3 🔑 Humble Capcom PlayStation Bundle
Super Puzzle Fighter II Turbo HD Remix 🔑 Humble Capcom PlayStation Bundle
Final Fight Double Impact 🔑 Humble Capcom PlayStation Bundle
Make Love Not War 4: Shining Force & Company of Heroes 2 - Southern Fronts DLC 🔑
Make Love Not War 4: Alien Soldier & Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War II Retribution - Ultramarines DLC 🔑
Make Love Not War 4: Endless Legend - Echoes of Auriga Add-on 🔑
Stronghold Kingdoms — Humble Kingmaker Bundle 🔑
Current Top wishlist wants in no specific order:
Other Wishlist
Movie Wants:
Steam Profile
Barter Profile
submitted by TospyKretts to indiegameswap [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:34 LoveMangaBuddy Read Creamy Creepy Boy - Special. : official translation (END) - MangaPuma

hi, it's lynn! this is the first manhwa i'm translating, also i'm doing everything on my own, and last but not least i'm not really fluent in both korean and english (but i promise i'm trying my best) so please be patient with me ??
please don't forget to support the author by buying raws~ + ... Read Creamy Creepy Boy - Special. : official translation (END) - MangaPuma. Read more at
submitted by LoveMangaBuddy to lovemanga [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:33 NickiPearlHoffman The chickens have come home to roost…

That’s an old-fashioned saying for: “The things you’ve done in the past will come back to bite you.” In other words, karma.
That silly saying popped into my head, and seemed weirdly appropriate that this is going down so soon after the unnecessary death of Colleen’s chickens.
submitted by NickiPearlHoffman to ColleenBallingerSnark [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:32 Cold-Driver-4582 Beauty of Joseon Fake or real??

I ordered this sunscreen from Amazon (UK) from seller called ‘XtU-qzan‘. First time vying Korean skincare so don’t know any better but looking at reviews some people say it’s fake and the price seems way lower than YesStyle or Stylevanna. Does anyone know about this? There was no seal on the opening, it does smell nice and leaves absolutely no white cast at all. Looks legit but I don’t have the real thing to compare it to as it’s first time I’ve bought something like this.
submitted by Cold-Driver-4582 to koreanskincare [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:32 Gearwrenchgal Fruit trees and bird baths

For the past few years I’ve been working on creating a self sufficient homestead-esque yard. Currently it contains a fruit tree orchard, extra large garden and large field of wildflowers. I also have chickens and intend on other livestock in the future. Eventually I’d like to add bees as well.
I’m trying to figure out what would be the best direction for keeping pests off of the fruit trees. Would having a birdbath potentially help, or would it cause more damage to fruits from birds?
submitted by Gearwrenchgal to Permaculture [link] [comments]

2023.06.05 15:26 jesster-day Not sure if it could be gastritis but I’m super anxious about it

Hey guys, 2 weeks ago I got a sharp sudden pain right under my breast on my right side at nighttime after having ate a burger and went to bed. It was fast and it went away but I felt discomfort after, the next day I still felt the discomfort but it went away by the time I went to bed then was fine for a few days. Then it came back when I went to the movies and ate popcorn, went away again, came back again 2 days ago and I’ve had it ever since. When it’s gone away I don’t get triggered by anything, I mostly eat a lot of chicken and veggies/rice because I got to the gym and I have to eat protein all the time, but sometimes I’ll have heavier meals, went to eat stake at a stakehouse and that didn’t flare it up. I notice it’s after I would eat the popcorn from the movies or potato chips or things like that. I worry that it’s my gallbladder but I’m not sure. The pain isn’t always on the same spot and it moves around sometimes but generally it’s been on the right then radiates toward my back and for the most part it’s right under the breast basically on the ribs and not below them. Feel gassy when it happens as well. I was on birth control for a month and it was giving me awful heartburn so I stopped it and it helped, but it threw my period off and I didn’t get it for a month, then when I got it again my gastric problems flared up pretty bad (they usually do when im menstruating). I’m having tons of anxiety over it and I hope it’s not my gallbladder because I don’t even have insurance and can’t afford surgery. I’m speaking to my doctor about it on Wednesday, just wanted to know if anyone has had similar experiences. Thanks!
submitted by jesster-day to Gastritis [link] [comments]