Road conditions louisville ky

In the event section it's fine that we don't know what cars were going up against but why can't we at least know what the road conditions are? It's so frustrating when you're pretty much guaranteed to lose your first match because you have no idea what the road conditions are going to be and you pick your best cars and then it's raining in the tires are completely useless so you suck because you're going up against cars with standard tires. It makes no sense.

I found the sweetest cat near a busy road about a week ago and took her in. I did everything to find out if she had a home - I put up posters, checked for a microchip (none), made posts on social media, and opened a found pet file on the local humane society and nearby vets no one has approached.
In the meantime I took her to a vet to make sure she was in good health, other than being rail thin, she was in great condition (no fleas, ticks, skin conditions, anything), the vet assumes she’s about 8months, and shaved her tummy to check for a spay scar but couldn’t find one. He told me there’s a chance she may be pregnant but without X-rays he can’t tell for sure
Her tummy does look big compared to the rest of her but it may be because she was so hungry and now she’s eating a lot (shock to her metabolism) and her nipples look swollen but it could be because her tummy is shaved, and she is really defensive of her tummy when I tried to touch it despite being otherwise affectionate and sweet
Any thoughts on if she may be pregnant? I want to make sure to give her the best care possible (until I find her home if she has one)
I can sent pics upon request

I’ve been waiting to talk about this. I’ve been looking for others with similar experiences, or… I dunno. Maybe I hoped I was insane. Months have passed, and I still don’t have the slightest idea what to believe. But no matter what is true and what isn’t, the memory of what happened to me is as true as can be.
And every time I put my hand to a door, I tremble.
​
I was looking for a house in the surrounding area. I know, being a homeowner at 27 seems like a dream. I know I’ve been fortunate. Even so, I wanted something remote, spacious, and comparably cheap.
I’d been looking for something nearby, but everything even close to a larger city quickly ran out of my price range. It wasn’t until I started looking at the rural outskirts that I started to see something realistic.
I’d been to four open house showings in the past week when I came across an ad that looked too good to be true. Another open house, but this one was just perfect. Apparently, they were looking to make a quick sale after a previous deal had fallen through.
​
I made my way to a small nearby town called Tomskog. There was a little billboard with a blue sunflower greeting me, and I took a hard right down a street named “Sunplenty Road”. There were only five houses there, and the one I came to look at was at the far end. Even from a distance, I could tell I wasn’t the only visitor.
I parked on the street outside and took in the sights. There was an “Open House” sign outside, again with the sunflower logo. There was a separate garage, and the house itself was smaller than expected. Homely, but small.
I was greeted by a cheerful man. He had thick glasses, a receding hairline, and the kind of “fun uncle” smile that told me he could get away with anything.
“Come on in,” he said. “You’re gonna love it.”
​
There was me, the realtor, and three other people. A middle-aged couple, and a younger woman. She had this messy black hair that kept poking her in the eye. Even at a glance I could tell the young woman was distraught. She wasn’t even looking around the house, she seemed more interested in the people wandering about.
The house had a simple and open layout. The bottom floor had a bathroom, a separate study room, an adjoining kitchen, and a lounge area. There were stairs leading to a sort of catwalk on the second floor, making the main room wide open. The second floor had another bathroom, a bedroom, and a guest room.
It had this sort of sullen 70’s vibe with grey and white flower-patterned wallpaper. There were little scuffs and tears pretty much everywhere, but the house itself seemed… fine.
​
The realtor, Anders, showed me all the details of the kitchen. He assured me that most of the appliances were to be replaced before the next homeowner moved in, and proudly displayed the new garbage disposal. It was a nice enough setup, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the young woman standing outside the study. I got the feeling that she was standing guard.
As the middle-aged couple walked downstairs, they asked her they could have a look.
“No,” she answered, with a shrug. “You can’t.”
“Don’t mind her,” Anders the realtor smiled. “Of course you can.”
“No,” she insisted. “They can’t.”
Anders walked up to her and leaned in. His demeanor shifted. They argued back and forth, and I could hear her repeat, over and over;
“This is not what we agreed to.”
​
The middle-aged couple and I just looked at one another. While the realtor and the young woman argued, we introduced ourselves. I smiled and gave them my name. They were named Helen and Sebastian, or ‘Seb’ for short. Typical midwestern salt-of-the-earth kind of people. They were suffering from an empty nest and seemed to want a place to start over. They made no secret about being interested in the place, although Helen wasn’t sure about having no direct access to the garage. Seb, on the other hand, wasn’t sure about the soil. He wanted a proper garden, and the soil seemed ill-fit to sustain greenery.
“Still,” Helen smiled. “Best place we’ve seen so far.”
“Sure is,” added Seb, giving Helen a little shake.
​
Anders kept arguing with the young woman. I could overhear her name as Whitney, and she was not willing to cooperate. Finally, Anders just pushed past her, putting his keys in the lock.
“Right this way, we’ll just take a quick peek.”
“We’re not done in there,” she said. “You can’t just-“
“It was supposed to be packed up, Whitney. I can’t help that you’re late.”
“That’s not… please. Give me an hour.”
“You’ve had plenty of hours.”
He clicked the door open and pushed it in. The three of us gave Whitney an apologetic look as we stepped inside.
​
The study was a mess. Old clothes strewn across various furniture, loose papers and books haphazardly thrown across a musky desk. An entire wall of bookshelves full of textbooks, ranging from discrete mathematics to philosophical physics. I stood there for a few seconds, taking it all in. Whitney pushed past us, grabbing an empty box from the floor.
“Don’t touch anything,” she sighed. “Just… look at it, and leave.”
Anders leaned over to us, lowering his voice.
“You have to excuse her,” he whispered. “There were some… complications, with the former owner.”
“Oh, she’s… the, uh, the daughter?” Seb asked.
Anders nodded.
​
While Anders told us about the east-facing windows and the top-of-the-line air conditioning system, I couldn’t help but to keep my eyes on Whitney. She was rummaging through the desk, dropping mementos, pictures, and notebooks into one of her many cardboard boxes. I could tell she was sleep deprived. She kept yawning.
Helen seemed eager to just leave Whitney to her grieving, while Seb kept to the practical details. He checked the hardwood floor, the insulation on the windows, the wall linings for pests. At one point, he almost knocked over a coffee table, and Whitney came running. She caught a vase that was about to topple off the table.
“Don’t… don’t touch anything!” she cried out. “Just… if you have to be here, stay… stay still!”
“I’m, uh… sorry,” Seb said. “I was just-“
“Just go over there!”
She waved her hands around, shaking the vase. There was a little rattle coming from it.
​
She shook it again, and I could see the color fade from her cheeks. Carefully, she tipped the vase, and something dark plopped into her hand.
A large bronze key.
Whitney pulled her hand back, letting the bronze key clatter to the floor. She covered her mouth, forgetting how to exhale. We just looked at her having what seemed, to us, like a mental breakdown.
“Nobody move,” she gasped. “Nobody… do anything.”
​
We all just stood there. Helen and Seb barely breathed, and I was suddenly hyper-aware of how still my feet were. Anders wasn’t impressed. If anything, he was fed up with this. He rolled his eyes, and picked up the key.
“Whitney, I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to wait outside.”
“Please, put… put that down.”
“You can put it with your things and take it outside.”
“Just… don’t move, you don’t know what you’re-“
Anders opened the door, stepped out of the study, and headed straight for the front door. Whitney dropped everything and ran after him. The rest of us followed suit.
“Wait!” she called out. “Please wait!”
​
As soon as Anders put his hand on the front door, Whitney stopped dead in her tracks.
“Anders, please, I’m sorry,” she said. “Just step away. Give me the key. I’ll leave, I promise. I swear.”
“That’s enough of that.”
“No!”
​
He opened the door and took a step forward. The bronze key passed the threshold.
​
We’d all stepped into the main lounge by now, and I heard the door to the study slam shut. There was a sort of pressure shift, making the wind move through the main lounge. Every door in the house slid shut with a click. All except the front door, which was wide open.
But there was nothing there.
Not nothing as in no one standing there. No, nothing as in “a nothing”. Just a blank, black space.
A viscous fluid where sunlight ought to be.
Endless, abyssal, ocean.
​
I stared at it, mesmerized. The contrast of the bright sun coming in from the windows, bouncing off the ripples of this deep ocean doorway.
And there, in the dark, humanoids. Tall, elongated silhouettes.
Anders stepped back, but it was as if parts of him refused to move. His arms were locked in place, seemingly by an invisible force. And as he stepped back, something started pulling him in.
His limbs grew long and twisted. His knees bending and snapping at impossible angles. His scalp pulled backwards, the loose skin of his face revealing the bottom white of his eyes.
“He… help!”
It was all he managed to say, as he was pulled into the dark. Limbs were quietly ripped from his sockets, as his human frame was bent, twisted, torn, and mangled. Black water mixing with marrow as dark shapes turned Anders into what resembled an underwater cloud of flesh and cloth.
Whitney threw herself forward, slamming the door shut, leaving the bronze key on the floor.
​
Screams erupted, and I didn’t even notice they were mine. It was this primal force being pulled out of me, this need to scream. Like a baby desperate for her mother. Helen backed into a corner and sunk to the floor, with Seb trying his best to comfort her. Whitney just sat there looking at the bronze key; her face breaking out in cold sweats.
I felt something turn in my stomach and headed for the bathroom. Whitney ran after me, but she couldn’t make it in time. I burst through the bathroom door and collapsed on the floor, hyperventilating. Whitney stayed outside, looking at me in shock.
“It’s… you’re… you’re fine,” she said. “You’re okay.”
I wasn’t. But compared to Anders, panicking on the bathroom floor seemed like a mercy.
​
Whitney stayed with me as I calmed down. Seb and Helen joined us. After a few minutes of silence, Whitney excused herself. She came back with pile of notebooks. She sat down across the hall from me, making sure not to enter the bathroom.
“My dad, he… found something,” she said. “I wasn’t sure exactly what.”
“We should… we should leave,” said Helen. “We should leave right now.”
“We can climb out a window,” said Seb. “If the, uh… the door is…”
“Just… please,” sighed Whitney. “Just stay. We’ll figure it out.”
“I-I mean no offense,” said Helen. “But what… what on earth was that?”
Whitney turned the notebook to a specific page and read aloud.
​
“I’ve been marooned in this house for thirty days. I never know where the Door is. Sometimes I can hear water, sometimes not. I tried the windows, but it nearly burst my eardrums from the pressure as water came rushing in. I can’t leave. I can’t move. They wait behind the Door. They wait for me to open.”
​
Whitney scratched her head. Helen looked back and forth, as if waiting for something to make sense. Seb just shook his head.
“What… what does that even mean?” asked Helen. “What happened?”
“It has to do with the doors,” Whitney explained. “They wait behind the Door.”
“There’s nothing there,” said Seb. “There’s light coming through the windows.”
“It’s… it’s not that easy. It’s when you open it.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
​
Whitney stood up and handed Helen three notebooks.
“We can argue the details of dad’s quantum entanglement experiment later, but that’s not gonna help us.”
“So… let’s just go then,” said Seb. “Let’s leave.”
“You wanna take your chances on the front door? That it won’t come back? Go ahead.”
Seb took a few tentative steps up to the front door. Helen wanted to protest, but she just started looking back and forth. Whitney crossed her arms and turned away.
“I can’t hear anything,” said Seb. “Are you sure it’s there?”
“It’s somewhere,” said Whitney. “I don’t… I don’t know the rules. It has to do with the doors.”
​
I got up off the bathroom floor and looked at them. Seb took his hand off the front door and stepped back. Whitney turned her attention to me.
“You put yourself at risk,” said Whitney. “That could’ve killed you.”
“The bathroom?”
“The door to the bathroom. Any or all of these doors, it… it could be connected. Here, let me-“
Whitney walked up to Helen and took one of the notebooks back. She turned to one of the latter pages.
​
“The framework of passageway. Concept of thought. Paired in alignment, the darkness standing shy from the mirrored back of Empyrean. Realm unwilled and unbound, misshapen by collective subconscious. We cannot pass, our world-forgotten blocks dissipated. Like a bridge cannot be built of water, and a house cannot be built of wind. But the great craftsman blames not their tools; and eternal gold can be found in humble bronze.”
​
“Bronze,” I said. “Like the key.”
“Look, my dad, he… we weren’t on speaking terms. I’ve looked at all this for days, and all I can tell is that he was off his rocker. He died in that room.”
Whitney pointed to the study. Helen hugged Seb tight, holding back a sob.
“He couldn’t leave. He was convinced that the… the door would eat him.”
​
Helen sat down by the kitchen table. Thankfully, there was no door in-between the kitchen and the main lounge. Seb walked straight up to Whitney, grabbed her by the collar of her blouse, and slammed her up against the wall; his calm demeanor cracking at the seams.
“We shouldn’t be here,” he said. “This is your fault!”
“I-I didn’t know! It was all just ramblings! I didn’t have time to clear it all out, how… how could I have known?!”
“You recognized the key,” said Helen. “You chased after him. You asked him to wait.”
“That’s the only part that keeps coming back!” Whitney yelled. “Check the notebooks! The key, it’s… it’s everywhere! It’s everything!”
“So what do we do?” Seb asked. “Do we use it or destroy it?”
Whitney looked at the pile of notebooks she’d managed to gather from the study. It was only a handful of everything we’d seen in there, but it might be enough to get some semblance of an answer.
​
The house had six doors. The front door, the bathroom door, the study room door. On the top floor, there was another bathroom door, a door to the guest bedroom, and the main bedroom door. The bathroom door on the bottom floor was already open and considered safe. I could step in and out without a problem.
Whitney explained as best as she could.
Her father had grown increasingly paranoid since divorcing Whitney’s mother. He’d locked himself in his house, committing fully to his studies. He’d always been a bit agoraphobic, and having a reason not to leave the house was a bit of a blessing in disguise. But over time, that blessing turned into a curse. An early entry read;
“For years, I’ve longed for the presence of mind to devote myself. And now that I can, I find myself wanting. I can’t be certain. There is a Door, a passage. It binds itself seemingly spontaneously. There is a risk involved, and it is a risk I cannot take.”
​
Seb tried to call for help, but water started pouring out of his phone. Whitney found a page about “semi-passages” or “shortcuts”. Things that could be used as portals to another person or place. They weren’t as conceptually clean as a door, and thus wouldn’t invite “Them”, but the connection would go through that dark place. The place that, somehow, her father had stumbled upon.
I looked at the key for a long time. I didn’t dare to touch it. It was unassuming, in a way. It was old and had this sort of blocky texture; like it was made of little squares. While Helen and Seb rifled through notebooks, Whitney looked up and talked to me.
“He just wanted a way to go wherever he wanted, without having to traverse the space in-between. To just go from one door to another. All he needed was a key.”
“But why now? Why is… how are we trapped?” I asked. “We got in here just fine.”
“The realtor,” sighed Whitney. “He tried to leave with the key. I think that triggered it.”
“So how do we un-trigger it?”
Whitney shrugged and pointed to the notebooks.
​
We had endless discussions. We compared notes, drew out theories. Helen thought we could force the bronze key out a window, but Whitney theorized that it’d just leave us locked inside. I suggested we listened at each door, just to eliminate which ones were safe and which weren’t. We tried, but there was seemingly no way to tell. Sometimes I could hear rushing water on the other side. Scratches on the wood. Other times, nothing. Even going back to the same door, it’d sound differently each time.
We considered opening several doors at once. We spread ourselves out. I was at the upstairs bedroom door, right next to Seb by the guest room door. Whitney was downstairs by the study door, and Helen insisted on the front door. We all put our hands on the handles. I wasn’t sure if I could hear something on the other side or not; my heart was pounding too loudly.
There were six doors. Five were closed, one open. Someone was probably going to die.
“There is only ever one Door. He only speaks of it as a singular. It can change over time,” said Whitney. “This is our best shot.”
“We can’t know for sure,” said Seb. “And why do we even want to open them all? There’s nothing in the bedrooms, right?”
“We’re excluding,” I said. “Like we did with the downstairs bathroom.”
“We should close it,” said Helen. “Shouldn’t that improve our chances of… of our other doors being okay?”
“I have no idea,” sighed Whitney. “Are we doing this?”
Seb backed away from his door, taking the hand off the handle.
“It ain’t right,” he said. “None of it. It ain’t right.”
​
Everything erupted into an argument. Seb couldn’t bring himself to risk his life for anything less than an exit, and Helen couldn’t stop crying at the thought of that dark abyss. I couldn’t blame her. To this day, I can’t stop imagining it. Whitney, trying to act as a voice of reason, read aloud from one of the notebooks.
“The concept of the passageway, the Door, changes at the flick of a thought. An alien thought, like an invisible, uncontrollable shadow of the psyche. It refuses to be controlled. My exit could be my end; or as likely, a wooden frame. Much like we cannot control the smoke of a campfire, we cannot foresee the turning of the passageway.”
We all looked at one another. Helen collapsed by the front door, crying. Whitney was close to a mental breakdown. I felt this enormous burden settle in my stomach, like I was missing something.
​
“Let’s take the door off the hinges”, said Seb. “We’ll turn it into a… an arch. Then it ain’t a door anymore. You think that’ll work?”
“In theory, maybe,” said Whitney. “But how do we do that without opening it?”
“We’ll… we’ll take the whole frame off,” Seb said. “There’s a crowbar under the sink. Saw it when I checked the garbage disposal.”
Helen bent down next to the sink, put her hand on the kitchen cabinet handle. I gasped.
Was that considered a door? Could it kill her? Would it?
​
I imagined that dark, cold abyss. That enormous force pulling me in, turning my very form into this unrecognizable mass. Where no screams can be heard. All I’d have to show for such unimaginable anguish would be a burst of bubbles; then nothing.
“No!” I cried out. “Stop!”
But it was too late.
​
Nothing happened. Helen opened it, pulled out the crowbar, and that was that. But for a brief moment, I realized how Whitney’s father must’ve felt. That uncertainty, not knowing for sure if that one flick of the wrist would be damnation; or nothing.
Helen handed the crowbar to Seb, while Whitney gave me a pat on the shoulder. I couldn’t stop crying. My whole body was shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Meanwhile, Seb walked up to the front door and started tapping the wood.
The theory was this; if there was no door, nothing could come through. There was no point in doing a test run, because if it didn’t work, someone would lose their life either way. It was better to have an honest chance of getting out.
Whitney gathered towels. She had this idea that, maybe, water might start leaking if the door was turned into a semi-passage, like a window. If so, we might have to find a way to quickly stop the flow.
By the time we got the towels, Seb started working on the door frame. As that first crack rang out, I heard a click.
​
The front door slid open.
​
Without a moment’s thought, Seb pushed it close. It had barely opened an inch.
We all held our breaths. We were fine. Nothing was happening.
​
“It’s… it’s clear!” Helen called out. “There’s nothing there! I saw it, it… it was nothing!”
“It can change!” Whitney yelled back. “We can’t take that risk again!”
“Like hell we can’t.”
Seb put his hand on the front door, but Whitney tackled him. The crowbar fell to the floor as Helen rushed forward to help.
“Listen!” Whitney yelled. “Just listen!”
​
A rumble, like a great whale passing in the distance. It was right there; on the other side of the front door.
Without a word, they all stood up and backed away. The door shook from the passing force. Something was definitely there.
“Then… then the rest should be fine,” said Seb. “We can get to the study.”
Whitney nodded, and the two of them burst into a sprint. Helen wasn’t convinced, but didn’t know what to say. Whitney dropped her crowbar, and as she bent to pick it up, Seb opened the door to the study.
​
Darkness.
“…no.”
Panic exploded. Helen grabbed his arms, trying to pull him out. Whitney crawled backwards, closing her eyes and covering her ears. I couldn’t watch. All I heard was Helen, screaming his name, over and over. There was a gargle. A scream turning into an inhuman screech, like a burning pig.
“Sebastian!” Helen kept repeating. “Sebastian! Sebastian!”
There was a click, and then nothing but crying. I looked up to see Helen collapsed against the study door. It had slid shut from the pressure on the other side.
“I’m… I’m coming, Sebby,” she cried. “I’m… I’m-“
She opened the door again.
And there was the study, just as we’d left it.
​
Helen collapsed on the floor, curling up into a fetal position. She kept making this child-like yowling, scratching the surface of the hardwood floor, as if trying to dig Seb back into reality. But there was nothing left. Not even water droplets on the floor.
Then there were her arms. She’d held on until the door had slammed shut. Her sleeves were torn, and her arms bloody. Not much, but there were these round little suction marks. They were already bruising, with spots of blood poking through the skin.
I sat by Helen as Whitney started rifling through the study. There were more notebooks, more theories, more diaries. Notes about experiments, clever tricks, and attempts. So far, every idea to understand the rules were in vain. We couldn’t make sure. No matter what, we could never be truly sure.
​
Two open doors. Four closed.
​
I don’t know how many hours passed. I managed to get Helen to the couch, but she was inconsolable. She could barely comprehend words anymore. She didn’t blink, and she could barely breathe. There were no coherent thoughts in her mind, just… darkness. This awful, soul-sinking darkness.
Whitney propped up the open doors with books and towels, to make sure they wouldn’t accidentally close. All the while, she kept trying to convince herself.
“We keep opening them one by one,” she said. “If we can get it to manifest in one single place, and keep that door open, we should be able to leave by another.”
The sun had started to set outside. For all intents and purposes, this still just looked like a house. The windows were clear, showing the greenery outside. Maybe it was all a lie. Maybe none of it was really happening.
But looking down at Helen, and her unblinking eyes, I knew it was the realest thing I’d ever experienced.
​
“We… there’s three of us,” I said. “Four doors. We can’t make it.”
“No, that’s perfect,” nodded Whitney. “That’s… we open all but the front door. It manifests. Then we can get out through the one safe remaining door.”
“Unless we all die. There’s nothing that says it can only be in one place.”
“It is implied,” said Whitney. “If you got a better plan, just tell me. But unless you want to starve to death, we gotta-“
“Starve?” I interrupted. “Is that what…”
I looked back at the study, where Whitney said her father had died. No words were necessary. She took a deep breath and nodded.
“He couldn’t bring himself to try,” she said. “So we have to ask ourselves what we want. A long but certain death, or a violent risk at life?”
​
The fridge, the freezer, and all the cupboards had been cleared out. Whitney found some raisins for us to share while we pondered what to do. Helen couldn’t eat. She stared blankly ahead, waiting for her mind to come wandering back.
It was dark outside. Whitney rolled the bronze key between her fingers.
“I wonder how he did it,” she sighed. “He never made any sense to me.”
“Maybe it doesn’t make sense,” I shrugged. “At least not to us.”
“Then what made him so special?”
“Well, he did have a lot of books,” I said, reaching into a pile we’d gathered from the study. “Just look at some of these.”
“Astrology of Abraham, Channels of Esoteric Geometry…”
“I like this one,” I said, holding up a little red book. “Diary of Emmett Rask.”
“Right. But it doesn’t beat the…”
Whitney pulled out another book from the pile, turning it over.
“… the thirteen faiths of the blameless mother.”
I shook my head, looking over at Helen. A handful of raisins slipped between her fingers. She didn’t even bother closing her hand.
​
Looking back at Whitney, I sighed.
“You’re right,” I said. “We have to try.”
So we did.
​
We lined ourselves up on the top floor. Helen on the far right, near the bathroom. I was on the far left, by the guest room. Whitney was in the middle, by the bedroom. Helen didn’t understand. She just mimicked us.
“We’re gonna open on three,” said Whitney. “And no matter what we see, just run. Run downstairs, and just… go. Get out.”
I nodded. Helen didn’t.
“One.”
I tightened my grip. I saw Helen follow my lead, giving me an exhausted look. She could barely keep her eyes open.
“Two.”
I started doubting which way to turn the doorknob. I’d turned a million doorknobs throughout my life, but that was the first time I’d really thought about which way to turn it. I imagined myself hearing water. Bubbles. Distant rumbles. I tried telling myself that it was all imagined. Fake. Tricks of the mind.
But in my heart of hearts, I knew it wasn’t.
“Three.”
​
We opened our doors.
All I saw was a well-made bed. A bag of toiletries; probably Whitney’s. I left the door open and turned around.
​
Helen was smiling as the darkness welcomed her.
“Come on!” Whitney screamed. “Leave her!”
The door to the bedroom was open. Clear. But I was standing just ten feet away from an endless abyss. Helen looked at it, as if searching for something. She touched the surface with an outstretched hand.
“Seb, honey,” she cried. “Sebby, please.”
A pulse shot through her. I could see the hair on her arm stand up. Her veins turning black.
“Oh, Sebby…”
​
In an instant, her flesh unraveled as it flayed itself from the inside out. Her scream stifled as something pulled her in, leaving splotches of blood behind from the outline of her feet. A pained moan escaped her; only to be turned to harmless bubbles in the pressurized void.
Whitney grabbed me by the neck and pulled me downstairs. We ran to the front door. We looked back a final time, just to make sure it was still manifested upstairs.
It was still there. We’d sacrificed Helen, but we’d make it out.
​
Whitney pulled the front door open – and stopped.
Darkness.
​
We’d been wrong.
​
Whitney turned to run as an impossibly long arm grabbed the flesh of her back; straight through her clothes. It pulled her back.
I crawled away, not being able to close my eyes.
“Help me!” she cried out. “For God’s sake fucking help me!”
I shook my head, not knowing what to do. I’ll never forget those desperate eyes. The betrayal. The pleading. She fought every inch of the way. She dug her nails into the hardwood floor. She kicked. She pulled. She screamed. But for every second she stayed, the more painful it was.
With a final snap, the fingers dug into her spine; folding her like a lawn chair.
A lifeless body, dragged across the floor. Unceremoniously pulled into the dark with a quiet squelch.
And the door, slightly damaged by Seb and his crowbar, slid shut.
​
I was all alone.
The door to the guest bedroom and the main bedroom remained open. There was the bathroom and study downstairs. Just two closed doors left; the bathroom and the front door. Both closed. Both… wrong.
There was no right answer.
​
I must’ve stayed there for days. I found some trail mix in Whitney’s bag. I had water. I could shower. I had a change of clothes. I scoured the notebooks over and over and over, trying to find the slightest hint on what to do. There had to be some way of knowing for sure. There had to be.
It wasn’t until I came across a final note that I realized it was over. It read;
“By will alone, we cannot make ourselves right. Right is right, independently of our actions and intentions. We cannot control that which never was, and we cannot be part of that which will never be. There could be no more perils for me to face, and yet, I cannot bring myself to leave. There is no certainty in the unknown, and I choose not to live by chance alone.”
​
I cried myself to sleep at night. I banged on the walls. I even tried opening a window, only to have my left eardrum blown out from the pressure drop. Got a nasty nosebleed as well.
I tried reading. I tried making up little worlds in my head. I imagined myself safe and sound.
But it was useless. In those final hours of desperate loneliness, I knew I couldn’t fool myself any longer.
I was going to die.
​
I found myself with my hand on the front door. I learned every crease of the wood. The temperature of the metal handle. I listened to it. Studied it. At times, it was quiet. At other times, it wasn’t. Sometimes I imagined it quiet, other times, I imagined voices coming from the other side.
Maybe I wasn’t imagining it.
Finally, I grasped the bronze key. Starving, exhausted, and mentally broken – I opened the front door.
​
Sunshine.
And there, on the fresh-cut lawn, was another realtor.
Just as confused as I was.
​
So, turns out I was only in there for about 16 hours total. And to this day, no one seems to remember neither Anders, Seb, Helen, or Whitney. According to every document I can find, the owner of the house had no children. The cars parked outside were unregistered. On paper, it seemed like the entire world had forgotten that these people were ever part of this plane of existence.
I don’t think anyone’s lying here. There was a sincere disbelief and confusion to every piece of my story. To onlookers, I seemed like a squatter that’d gone insane.
I’ve tried to find anything about this. They won’t let me go back to read the notes. The investment firm who owns the real estate company swept it all under a rug and tore the place down. I suspect they were the ones who made the bronze key mysteriously disappear from the evidence room.
I’ve tried to find copies of the books I found in there. Some of them have been seen in passing on strange message boards, and one just keeps making my computer turn off whenever I try to google it. Who the hell is Emmett Rask anyway?
​
If anyone knew these people, or have heard about this phenomenon, please… I need to know I’m sane. I need to know this isn’t all a dream. I need to know I won’t wake up with my hand on that front door, having imagined living a life back outside.
This has to be real. I am real. There is nothing on the other side of the door.
Go ahead, listen. There’s nothing there.
It can’t be.
​
Can it?

I’m looking for a new pair of road running shoes for wet conditions, I prefer max cushion shoes but open to hear everyone’s opinions on their favorite.

I don’t tell anyone this. I don’t express how much this has hurt. I think about it everyday and it’s driving me crazy. I want to be released. And stop having a heavy heart :(
My dear friend who was 17 years older died in 2010. She had 3 kids (13,12 and 9) My husband and I took them in for 10 years. I was 27 and I had a 6 year old . We’ve had lots of drama. Teenagers shit. Driver’s license. School education. Cost of living. Living on top of each other. We got through it. And we were doing fine.
Then their stepfather died June 2021. They didn’t know he was in hospital ( alcoholism) about to die until I told them from a mutual friend. (I introduced my friend and her boyfriend) her boyfriend was a good mate. Until my friend passed. And he completely ignored the kids. I saw this and jumped in to give more time to process that mum had passed. And I waited, and waited. Nothing! For 10 fucken years! This was not my mate anymore and everyone around me took advantage of me and my husband. Constantly giving. It got to the point that whatever our own kids need they would always get too. Usually first as they were older then our kids. We raised them as we did our son. Our own kids are 20 and 8 now. My 20m grew up with all of them.
When I told them Stepdad was in hospital, they turned on me. They told me to get out of their lives and never to contact them again. My best friend when nuts on them. So they then used that excuse to get me out of their lives. I did not see this coming. And guys it’s killed me.
The sad thing is it was June 2021 and I still think about it every single day. I question my character and being a good mum. 10 years I was their ride or die, I taught them to drive, to be decent adults/men. I lost my sister over it as she didn’t agree with me taking this on. ( oh how so very right she was) I just wanted what was best for everyone. I must have been nothing to them. I feel used. I thought there was love there. But it must’ve of been for them. I feel so stupid. I want my mind, my heart, my head back.
I regret all of this. I wish I never put my hand up to help. I wish I put boundaries down about how much to take or how much I give. I regret every single thing. I regret putting my son through this, and because of me they have ridden him off too. I want to talk to my husband about it . But I feel his just as hurt. I don’t want this on my heart anymore. I want to not think about them. My foster daughter 24 just had a baby and I’m not there. I pictured this while raising them. It got me to see the bigger picture. And I’m not part of it. And I never will be. How do I get over this??? Or I never do. I also have no desire to help people anymore. It’s literally my identity. As I get older I think it gets me no where. I’ve conditions myself so much that I don’t know how to take care of myself without feeling guilty. If people who you raised can’t stand you what is waiting for me Down the road. Thanks if you got this far. I just hope that I recover one day.

Saturday 3rd June - Fiver Feed : Five things to do today in Glasgow for around a Fiver or FREE!
Instagram here for extra stuff and things, come join the fun! (Disclaimer - may not actually be any fun)
Shoutout for Glasgow Science Festival 1st - 11th June, 100's of activities, most are free!
​

• Gala - Vinicombe Street Gala - £Free
• Street Gala on the Piazza just off Byres Road (opposite Waitrose) featuring live music, dancers, circus performers and the fantastic SambaYaBamba! Also street theatre, balloon artists, face-painting and lots more.
• 12:00 - 17:00 Vinnicombe Street Piazza G12 8SJ

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• Choral Concert - Echoes of the North - £Free (Ticketed)
• Glasgow’n Laulu presents ‘Echoes of The North’, a choral concert of Finnish folk and popular songs. The songs selected for the concert, sung a cappella in three to five part harmonies, explore the theme of longing, lost loves, and finding solace in nature. The repertoire also features Scottish and Ukrainian folk songs.
• 13:00 The Glasgow Art Club 185 Bath Street G2 4HU

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• Community/Activism/Film/Wellbeing - ‘Hang on a wee minute . . . ’ - £Free (Ticketed)
• Cathy McCormack started off as a community activist in Easterhouse, campaigning for better housing conditions. Cathy went on to highlight the parallels between the struggles of people in her community and those living in poverty around the world. 'Hang on a wee minute…' is an event in her memory that will celebrate the power of activism.
• 13:00 - 16:00 Platform The Bridge 1000 Westerhouse Road G34 9JW

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• Houseplant Care Workshop - Green Thumbs & Healthy Plants! - £Donation
• Whether you're a seasoned plant enthusiast or just starting your green journey, this workshop is designed to empower you with essential knowledge and skills to nurture healthy, vibrant houseplants. In this interactive and hands-on workshop Lucy Bloom will guide you through the fascinating world of houseplant care, sharing expert tips, and practical insights.
• 13:30 - 15:30 Gathering Ground Old Basin House 5 Applecross Street G4 9SP

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• Art - Jo Alice Art Exhibition - £Free
• Jo is a Glasgow Based painter who has worked in Venice, Lisbon and Valencia. She is BA (hons) graduate who has painted from a young age.
• 19:00 - 23:30 The Blankfaces 427 Great Western Road G4 9JA

Hey everyone, here's a few pictures of my N64 Games, 3DS XL Console, GBA Console, GBA Games I have for sale . There's a lot listed below that is not pictured so just let me know what you are interested in and I can provide additional pictures.
Prices do not include shipping unless "shipped" is noted. Shipping is $4 for 1 game (1st Class in a Padded/Bubble Wrapped Envelope). An additional $1 per game (if weight exceeds 12 oz). I only accept PayPal via Friends & Family or Venmo F&F, however I do have 295+ confirmed transaction on this board.
Consoles + Accessories Gameboy Original (CIB; unused condition; even the batteries are unopened) - $300 shipped or BO GBA Wireless Adapter (AGB-015) - $20 shipped GBA to Gamecube Adapter (DOL-011) - $25 shipped Gameboy OEM Clam Shells (lot of 32) - $75 shipped Nintendo 3DS XL Pokemon X & Y Limited Edition Console + Luigis Mansion Dark Moon (loose) - $300 shipped Nintendo 64 OEM Gray Controller - $25 Nintendo 64 OEM Controller Pak (NUS-004) - $13 shipped Nintendo 64 GameShark - $25 Nintendo 64 Performance Memory Card - $10 shipped Nintendo 64 OEM Transfer Pak - $20 shipped Nintendo DSI (TMNT Decals) w/ Charger - $50 shipped Sega GameGear Super Wide Gear - $22 shipped Sega Master System w/ hookups + controller (small crack/break in console shell) $125 + shipping Super Nintendo Snes Jr Console (console only; tested) - $90 shipped
N64 Games 007 World is Not Enough (ex-rental) - $14 1080 Snowboarding - $11 Backstage Assault - $12 Blast Corps - $18 Excite Bike 64 - $15 Flying Dragon - $30 F-Zero X - $40 Jet Force Gemini - $13 Madden Football 64 - $5 Mario Kart 64 - $42 MRC Multi Championship Racing - $10 Mystical Ninja Featuring Goemon (ex-rental) - $85 Namco Museum 64 - $12 NBA Jam 99 - $11 NFL Blitz 2001 (torn label) - $18 NFL Quarterback Club 2000 - $5 Pokemon Snap - $20 Pokemon Stadium - $35 San Francisco Rush - $15 San Francisco Rush 2 - $18 Star Wars Episode 1 Racer - $10 Star Wars Rogue Squadron - $14 Super Mario 64 - $38 Superman - $15 Super Smash Brothers - $45 Magical Tetris Challenge - $25 The New Tetris - $30 Tetrisphere - $12 Tony Hawk Pro Skater - $12 Tony Hawk Pro Skater 2 - $21 Top Gear Overdrive - $11 Toy Story 2 - $20 Turok Dinosaur Hunter - $12 Virtual Pool - $13 Waialae Country Club - $6
N64 Manuals/Strategy Guides Duke Nukem Manual - $10 Flying Dragon Manual - $40 Silicon Valley Space Station Manual - $50 Super Mario 64 Nintendo Power Player's Guide - $18
NES Games Adventure of Bayou Billy - $7 Anticipation - $5 Bad Street Brawler - $13 Battle Chess (CIB) - $32 Battle of Olympus - $16 Blades of Steel - $9 Defender 2 - $10 Dragon Warrior (CIB) - $70 Dragon Warrior II -$60 Dragon Warrior - III - $120 Dragon Warrior IV - $160 Excite Bike - $11 Exodus Ultima - $11 Faxanadu - $12 Fester's Quest - $10 Final Fantasy - $25 Gauntlet II (label wear) - $10 Golf - $3 Gotcha - $7 Ghost 'N Goblins - $15 Greg Norman's Golf Power - $14 Gyruss - $9 Hydlide - $9 Iron Sword - $8 Little League Baseball - $12 Magic of Scheherazade (CIB) - $65 Mach Rider - $8 Metal Gear (w/ worn box) - $80 Mike Tyson's Punch-Out - $40 Paperboy - $16 Pinball $7 The Punisher - $27 Rad Racer II - $7 Renegade - $10 RBI Baseball 2 - $10 Road Runner - $16 Spy Hunter - $6 Super Glove Ball - $7 Superman - $21 Super Mario Bros. - $15 Super Mario Bros./ Duck Hunt - $7 Super Mario Bros. 2 - $24 Super Off-Road - $12 Super Sprint (Tengen) - $7 Super Team Games - $9 Tetris - $12 Tetris 2 -$9 Tiger-Heli - $5 Tiny Toon Adventures 2 Trouble in Wackyland - $16 To The Earth - $5 Toobin (Tengen) - $20 Top Gun - $5 Top Player Tennis - $9 Vindicators - $10 Winter Games by Epyx - $6
NES Manuals Anticipation Manual - $5 Captain Skyhawk Manual - $5 Dance Aerobics Manual - $5 Friday the 13th Manual - $16 Golf - $5 Gotcha Manual - $7 (crease) Hogan's Alley Manual - $9 Iron Sword Wizards & Warriors II Manual - $7 Life Force Manual - $10 (some damage to an interior page) Sesame Street 1 2 3 - $7 Super Team Games - $7 Tiger Heli - $3 (water damage)
Gameboy (cart only) Batman - $24 Dr. Mario - $10 Star Wars - $11 Super Mario Land - (top of label is faded) - $20 Wario Land: Super Mario Land 3 - $30
Gameboy Color (cart only) All-Star Baseball 2000 - $5 Mary Kate & Ashley's New Adventures - $4 Men in Black The Series - $7 Pacman Special Color Edition - $14 Rugrats the Movie - $7 Shrek Fairy Tale Freak Down - $7 Smurf's Nightmare - $10 Tony Hawk Pro Skater 2 - $6 Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3 - $6 Yu- Gi- Oh Dark Duel Stories - $10
GBA (cart only) 007 Everything or Nothing - $7 A Series of Unfortunate Events -$4 Backyard Baseball - $5 Backyard Baseball 2006 - $7 Backyard Baseball 2007 - $7 Backyard Football - $8 Backyard Football 2006 - $4 Backyard Football 2007 - $5 Battleship / Risk / Clue - $6 Bratz - $4 Butt Ugly Martians: BKM Battles - $5 Cars - $5 Cartoon Network Speedway - $6 Catz - $5 Cho Makaimura R Super Ghouls N Ghost ( Japanese Import) - $95 Shipped Dave Mirra Freestyle BMX 2 - $4 Dogz - $6 Dora Explorer's Pirate Pig's Treasure - $4 Dragon Ball Z Supersonic Warriors - $20 Earth Worm Jim - $16 ESPN Great Outdoor Games Bass 2002 - $5 Fantastic 4 Flame On - $3 Finding Nemo - $5 Fire Pro Wrestling - $11 Frogger's Journey - $6 Hot Wheels Stunt Track Challenge - $3 Hot Wheels World Race - $5 Incredibles Rise of the Underminer - $6 Jimmy Neutron Attack of the Twonkies - $4 Jimmy Neutron Jet Fusion - $3 Lord of the Rings The Two Towers - $10 Lost Vikings - $25 Lizzie McGuire: On the Go - $3 Madagascar & Shrek 2 - $5 Madagascar Operation Penguin - $6 Madden 2005 - $5 Mario Kart Super Circuit (torn label) - $21 Monster Jam Maximum Destruction - $6 Namco Museum - $6 Oddworld Munch's Oddysee - $12 Pong Asterios Yar's Revenge - $4 Power Rangers Dino Thunder - $8 Quad Desert Furty - $3 Road Rash Jail Break - $10 Shark Tale - $4 Spirit Stallion of the Cimarron - $5 Star Wars Episode II Attack of the Clones - $5 Star Wars The New Droid Army - $5 Super Mario Advance (worn label) - $17 The Incredibles - $3 Top Gear GT Championship - $10 Yu-Gi-Oh Double Pack 2 - $13 Yu-Gi-Oh Eternal Duelist Soul - $12 Wario Land 4 - $45 WWF Road to Wrestlemania - $10
Nintendo 3DS (loose) Transformers Dark of the Moon Stealth Edition - $7
Nintendo DS Games (cart only unless noted) Avatar The Last Airbender - $13 Backyard Sports Rookie Rush - $4 Bionicle Matoran Adventures - $6 Club Penguin - $4 Happy Feet - $4 Mario Hoops 3 on 3 - $10 Marvel Ultimate Alliance 2 - $10 Megaman Starforce Dragon - $95 shipped Metroid Hunters First Hunt - $6 Namco Museum DS - $8 Nintendo Dogs: Chihuahua & Friends - $6 Nintendo Dogs: Dachshund & Friends (CIB) - $10 Nintendo Dogs: Lab & Friends - $6 Ping Pals - $3 Plants vs Zombies - $10 Ratatouille - $5 Ridge Racer DS - $8 Shrek Superslam - $5 MySims - $5 MySims Kingdom - $5 Spectrobes - $5 Spiderman 3 - $8 Star Wars II The Original Trilogy (LEGO) - $6 Super Money Ball Touch & Roll - $6
Nintendo Gamecube Games (CIB unless noted) ATV Quad Power Racing 2 (missing manual) - $9 Cars - $8 ESPN Winter Sports 2002 - $6 Madden 2003 - $5 Madden 2005 - $6 Need for Speed Hot Pursuit 2 - $8 Spongebob Squarepants: Lights Camera Pants - $16 WWE Day of Reckoning 2 (missing manual) - $25 WWE WrestleMania X8 (missing manual) - $12
Nintendo Wii Games (all have cases) All-Star Cheer Squad - $5 Cabelas Big Game Hunter 2010 (CIB) - $8 Call of Duty Black Ops (CIB) - $9 Carnival Games (CIB) - $6 Chuck E Cheese Party Games (Missing Manual) - $10 Country Dance (CIB) - $8 Deal or No Deal (CIB) - $5 Guitar Hero III Legends of Rock (CIB) - $19 Hannah Montana Spotlight World Tour (Sealed) - $8 Major League Baseball 2K12 (CIB) - $10 Thrillville Off The Rails (CIB) - $5 Wii Music - $6 Wii Sports (Disc & Manual) - $20 Wii Sports Resort (CIB) - $30
Playstation PS1 Games (CIB unless noted) 007 Tomorrow Never Dies - $7 A Bug's Life (GH) - $7 Action Bass - $6 Ball Breakers (sealed) - $10 Bass Championship - $7 Battle Arena Toshinden (GH) - $14 Bushido Blade - $36 Crash Bandicoot Warped (GH) - $13 Fighting Force - $20 Gran Turismo 2 (GH) - $12 Harry Potter & the Sorcerer's Stone - $13 IHRA Drag Racing - $5 Inspector Gadget: Gadget's Crazy Maze - $8 MediEvil (missing manual) - $35 Missile Command - $6 Monster's Inc (GH) - $9 Nascar Heat (CIB) - $7 NBA Live 2000 - $8 NBA Shootout 98 - $9 NFL Blitz 2000 - $15 NHL 98 - $8 NHL Faceoff 97 (GH) - $5 Parasite Eve - $75 Parasite Eve (missing demo disk) - $60 PlayStation Underground Jampack Fall 2001 - $9 Q* Bert - $10 Resident Evil Director's Cut (GH) - $30 Rugrats Search for Reptar (GH) - $17 Rugrats in Paris: The Movie - $12 Soul Blade - $23 Star wars Dark Forces (unoriginal jewel case) - $13 Syphon Filter 2 (GH) - $10 Tecmo Super Bowl - $20 Tiger Woods 99 - $8 Tony Hawk Pro Skater (GH) - $10 Tony Hawk Pro Skater 2 (GH) - $12 Triply Play 99 - $8 Who Wants to Be a Millionaire 2nd Edition - $8 World Cup 98 - $12
Playstation 2 PS2 Games (CIB unless noted) 007 Everything or Nothing - $7 007 Nightfire - $9 Ace Combat 4 Shattered Skies (GH) - $8 All-Star Baseball 2005 - $5 Ben 10 Protector of Earth - $9 Bully - $22 Clock Tower 3 - $70 Crash Bandicoot The Wrath of the Cortex (GH version) - $10 Crash Bandicoot The Wrath of the Cortex - $12 Devil May Cry (GH) - $7 Enter the Matrix - $10 Eragon - $6 Family Feud - $5 Final Fantasy X (GH) -$9 Frogger the Great Quest - $7 Godfather the Game - $14 God of War (2 Disc Set) - $12 Guitar Hero II - $7 Guitar Hero III Legends of Rock - $9 High Heat Major League Baseball 2004 - $5 Hobbit - $10 Karaoke Revolution Party - $8 Karaoke Revolution Presents: American Idol - $5 Madden 2003 - $5 Madden 2007 - $5 Madden 2008 - $5 Midway Arcade Treasures - $11 MLB 07 the Show - $5 MLB Slugfest 2004 - $11 Nascar 2001 - $5 Nascar Thunder 2003 - $7 NFL Blitz Pro - $10 Onimusha 3 Demon Siege - $21 Pinball Hall of Fame - $5 Pirates - The Legend of Black Kat - $12 Red Dead Revolver - $17 Rise of Kasai - $8 Silent Hill 4 The Room (Factory Sealed) - $325 shipped Star Wars Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith - $9 SSX Tricky (missing manual) - $19 Summoner - $10 Teen Titans - $22 Theme Park Roller Coaster - $8 Time Crisis 3 - $23 Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell - $6 Ty the Tasmanian Tiger - $11 Warriors of Might & Magic - $10 Wheel of Fortune - $7 Yu-Gi-Oh Duelists of the Roses - $22
PS3 Band Hero - $6 Call of Duty Black Ops - $10 Call of Duty World at War -$11 Crysis 2 - $7 Fifa Soccer 11 - $5 Guitar Hero 5 - $11 MLB the Show 10 - $4 MLB the Show 11 - $4 NCAA Football 11 - $9 Sports Champions - $5
Sega 32X (all cart only) Primal Rage - $50 Virtua Fighter - $24 Virtua Racing - $20
Sega Dreamcast Games (disc & manual only***; do not have original cases unless noted CIB) Centipede - $7 Plasma Sword Night of Bilstein - $50 Psychic Force 2012 - $25 Ready 2 Rumble Boxing - $12 Rippin Riders - $5 Sega Bass Fishing - $8 Sega Rally 2 Championship - $12 Speed Devils - $15 Sword of Berserk: Gut's Rage (game only) - $65 Trick Style - $7 Zombie Revenge - $30
Sega Game Gear (cart only) Columns - $5 Sega Genesis (cart only unless noted) Aladdin (cart + manual) - $10 Boogerman A Pick & Flick Adventure (cart + manual) - $20 John Madden Football (cart + manual) - $20 Mortal Kombat (cart + manual) - $12 Prime Time NFL Football starring Deon Sanders (cart +manual) - $9 Shining Force (Case & Cart) - $75 Shining Force 2 (cart only) - $55 Sonic the Hedgehog (cart + manual) - $13 Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (cart + manual) - $12 Sonic & Knuckles (cart only) - $25 Streets of Rage (cart only) - $22 X-Men (cart + manual) - $15
Sega Master System (Mostly CIB; ask me to check manual) Alex Kidd: The Lost Stars - $28 California Games (missing manual) - $20 Choplifter - $18 Ghostbusters - $25 Great Baseball - $10 Monopoly - $10 Parlour Games - $10 Pro Wrestling - $14 Rocky - $17 Space Harrier (missing manual) - $18 Shinobi (includes map; missing manual) - $30
Super Nintendo (SNES) Games (cart only) Aeroacrobat - $9 Best of the Best Championship Karate - $8 Brandish - $85 Brett Hull Hockey - $7 Bulls vs Blazers - $4 Capcom MVP Football - $7 Captain Commando - $175 Cliffhanger - $9 College Slam - $7 Donkey Kong Country - $20 ESPN Baseball Tonight - $4 Family Feud - Final Fantasy Mystic Quest - $17 Football Fury - $20 Harley's Humongous Adventure - $15 Magic Johnson's Super Slam Dunk - $6 Mickey's Ultimate Challenge - $12 MechWarrior 3050 - $17 Monopoly - $5 Ms. Pacman - $12 NCAA Basketball - $5 Nickelodeon GUTS - $16 Ninja Warrior - $130 NFL Football - $5 Pit Fighter - $8 Romance of the Three Kingdoms II - $20 Soldier's of Fortune (rental sticker on label) - $25 Stanley Cup Championship -$6 Street Fighter II - $15 Super Caesar's Palace - $4 Super High Impact - $5 Super Soccer - $9 Super Star Wars Return of the Jedi - $16 Terminator 2 Judgement Day - $15 Top Gear - $15
Xbox 360 (CIB) Assassin's Creed - $6 Battlefield Hardline Deluxe Edition - $10 Battlefield 3 Limited Edition - $6 Fifa Soccer 10 - $5 Fifa Work Cup South Africa 2010 - $5 Grand Theft Auto V - $10 Injustice Gods Among Us - $5 L.A. Noire - $7 Left 4 Dead 2 - $11 Mafia II - $10 N3 Ninety-Nine Nights - $20 Nascar The Game 2011 - $9 NBA 2K12 - $5 NHL 10 - $3 NHL 14 - $6 Pocket Bike Racer - $5 Red Dead Redemption - $9 Saints Row - $10 Saints Row The Third - $5 Skate 3 - $6 Virtua Tennis 4 - $9

Hey folks!
I’m moving at the end of June. It’s not a far move - just about 30minutes down the road. Im in the midst of the dreadful pack.
The concern I have is for my 4Ks and Vinyls (for a different thread). I have about 90 movies in my collection.
The real thing I’m concerned about is that they will be stored in a facility for 1-2 weeks before coming to the new home (the facility is air conditioned). But because they’ll be sitting, I’m worried if I stack them all up, it may cause some damage.
I could be over thinking this for sure, but I have a few expensive editions. I will wrap the expensive ones individually just in case.
What have you done in the past when moving? Is it really that big of a deal or am I overblowing it?
It’s just that a lot of money has been invested in these delicate things, so I wanted to hear from the community.

I'm a 6'0" and 63kg, I've done a few races on a 70cc 4 speed bike and 110cc sidecar I built in highschool so I'm somewhat used to riding a bike but obviously on the road it's completely different and those bikes were pretty slow compared to a road bike. The only concerns I really have with this bike are the low k's might mean a bit of sludge build up in the engine but I've also heard some people have had reliability issues with them but I can't find any common problems mostly electrical stuff tbh. I'm an apprentice light vehicle technician so I have a decent understanding of fixing cars and like working on my own stuff. I kinda want a bike that's good at everything because I want to be able to go on longer rides with my dad an uncle but also something fun on my own for riding on the local mountain roads and then still be able to daily it over summer or when the weather's good. The price is nzd btw and any bike I buy has to under 660cc as this is part of the learner requirements as well as a couple other things, cheers

CJ link
Churchill Downs is moving the remainder of its 2023 Spring Meet to Ellis Park in Henderson, Kentucky, after 12 horse deaths at the Louisville racetrack during the past six weeks.
Horse Racing Nation was first to report the news of the Spring Meet being moved "beginning late next week, perhaps next Saturday." Two sources close to the situation confirmed the report to The Courier Journal.
A formal announcement from Churchill is expected later Friday, according to a tweet from Pat Forde of Sports Illustrated. The track's Spring Meet runs through July 3.
The move to Ellis Park follows multiple emergency meetings in Louisville this week regarding horse safety
A closed-door summit was held Tuesday between the state and track's regulatory veterinarians and veterinarians with the Horseracing Integrity and Safety Authority. A track surface expert walked the dirt Wednesday, and Churchill on Thursday called a last-minute meeting before announcing new measures that will be implemented at the track.
Those measures include:

• Effective immediately, horses will be restricted to four starts during a rolling eight-week period.
• Horses will have ineligibility standards for poor performance: if a horse is beaten by more than 12 lengths in five consecutive starts, it will be ineligible to race at Churchill Downs until approved to resume by the Equine Medical Director.
• Pause of track-based incentives including trainer start bonuses and pay-out allocations to every race finisher. Only the top five finishes will receive payouts. Churchill Downs is talking with horsemen about what will happen to the funds previously given to lower-placed finishers.

One horse owner who spoke with The Courier Journal on the condition of anonymity said, "It seems odd that they would implement new safety precautions and announce those to the horseman but the next day there is talk of moving to Ellis Park a month early."
Trainer Ron Moquett, who started King Russell in Kentucky Derby 149, said he's on board with the move "in an effort to protect horses."
"We wake up every day dealing with change," Moquett told The Courier Journal via text. "As long as we can take care of the horses, I'm OK."
Ellis Park opened in 1922 and sits roughly 134 miles west of Louisville. It has a meet scheduled to kick off July 7.
Horse Racing Nation reported the condition book will remain the same amid the move to Ellis, and Churchill's racing office has promised to assist with travel to the track.

Generally in good condition, complete with packaging/instructions included unless otherwise noted
Shipping not included in prices, located in US
Open to offers, especially on multiple items
Image albums here and here, (should be complete but let me know if something is missing)

• Car Robots C-001 Super Fire Convoy - $120 - some chrome wear on core robot chest and super mode left head gun, lights work but sounds do not
• Car Robots C-013 God Magnus - $130
• Robots in Disguise (2001) Deluxe Prowl - $5 - right door socket broken, no package
• Movie (2007) Scout Storm Surge - $5 - no package/instructions
• Universe (2008) Ultra Silverbolt - $15 - no package/instructions
• Animated Deluxe Autotrooper - $50 - no instructions/bio card
• Revenge of the Fallen Deluxe Smokescreen - $5 - missing weapon, no package/instructions
• Hunt for the Decepticons Voyager Seaspray - $50
• Dark of the Moon Deluxe Roadbuster - $10 - light paint wear, no package/instructions
• Dark of the Moon Deluxe Topspin - $10 - light paint wear, stress mark on non-structural detail, no package/instructions, may be missing MechTech weapon?
• Dark of the Moon Deluxe Lunarfire Optimus Prime - $10 - loose hip joints, no package/instructions
• Movie Trilogy Series Optimus Prime w/ trailer - $20 - loose hip joints, no package/instructions
• Age of Extinction Deluxe Silver Knight Optimus Prime and Voyager Grimlock - $30
• Beast Hunters Deluxe Bulkhead - $5 - knee is damaged but still works, no package/instructions
• Generations Thrilling 30 Legends Optimus Prime w/ Roller - $10 - Optimus head joint slightly loose, added Molotow chrome on wheel pins
• Generations Thrilling 30 Deluxe Skids - $10 - spring removed from shoulder guns, no package/instructions/comic
• Generations Thrilling 30 Deluxe Scoop - $10 - no package/instructions/comic
• Generations Combiner Wars Legends Thundercracker - $10
• Generations Combiner Wars Legends Powerglide - $10
• Generations Titans Return Deluxe Triggerhappy - $20
• Generations War for Cybertron Siege Deluxe Cog - $20
• Generations War for Cybertron Siege Deluxe Sixgun - $20
• Generations War for Cybertron Siege 35th Anniversary Deluxe Bluestreak - $25
• Generations War for Cybertron Siege Refraktor Reconnaisance Team - $60
• Generations War for Cybertron Earthrise Voyager Snapdragon - $30
• Generations War for Cybertron Earthrise Voyagers Starscream/ThundercrackeSkywarp - $135
• Generations War for Cybertron Kingdom Core Dracodon - $5
• Generations War for Cybertron Kingdom Deluxe Warpath - $20
• Generations War for Cybertron Kingdom Deluxe Airazor - $20
• Generations War for Cybertron Kingdom Deluxe Pipes - $20
• Generations War for Cybertron Kingdom Deluxe Slammer - $20 - 3 available
• Generations War for Cybertron Kingdom Voyager Cyclonus - $30
• Generations War for Cybertron Kingdom Battle Across Time Sideswipe and Skywarp - $35
• Generations War for Cybertron Netflix Soundwave w/ Laserbeak and Ravage - $65 - Soundwave has mild discoloration
• Generations Legacy Deluxe Prime Universe Arcee - $15
• Generations Legacy Deluxe Prime Universe Knock Out - $20
• Generations Legacy Voyager Blaster w/ Eject - $20 - Eject has visible cracks but has not fallen apart
• Generations Legacy Voyager Prime Universe Bulkhead - $30
• Generations Legacy Velocitron Deluxe Diaclone Universe Burn Out - $18
• Generations Legacy Velocitron Deluxe G2 Universe Road Rocket - $18
• Generations Legacy Velocitron Voyager Cybertron Universe Override - $25
• Generations Legacy Velocitron Voyager Road Hauler - $20
• Generations Legacy MenasoStunticons - $270
• Generations Buzzworthy Bumblebee Deluxe Origin Bumblebee - $20
• Generations Buzzworthy Bumblebee Legacy Deluxe Silverstreak - $20
• Generations Studio Series Core [Bumblebee] Shockwave - $5 - may be missing packaging?
• Generations Studio Series Core [Bumblebee] Ravage - $5
• Generations Studio Series Deluxe [Bumblebee] B-127 - $18 - slight crack on alt mode panel, does not affect figure significantly
• Generations Studio Series Deluxe [Bumblebee] Brawn - $20
• Generations Studio Series Deluxe [Bumblebee] Wheeljack - $25 - includes JRC Designs 3D printed shoulder gun
• Generations Studio Series Voyager [Bumblebee] Thundercracker - $30
• Generations Studio Series Leader [86] Coronation Starscream - $35
• Generations Collaborative Tonkanator - $50 - stickers applied
• Hasbro Masterpiece MP-06 Bluestreak - $65 - tab on rear bumper is broken, does not noticeably affect handling
• MakeToys Cross Dimension Striker Manus - $65 - no package/instructions
• Perfect Effect Perfect Combiner Series Black Jinrai - $40
• Toyworld Aurora - $10 - missing pin in leg door

Other stuff:

• Star Wars: The Black Series Baze Malbus - $20 - sealed

Free with anything above:

• Bot Shots Optimus Prime Launcher - Molotow chrome added to wheel pins and bumper
• Alt Modes Silver Optimus Prime and Megatron - black Sharpie on Megatron's legs
• Generations Thrilling 30 Deluxe Nightbeat - has attempted modifications, not in good shape but can still convert

Is there a better road to take to see wildlife?
The road is in terrible condition too. Might be on purpose as it's so remote.

I know this sounds crazy. Shut up. I get it. I’ve heard it all before: “what are you talking about?” “You’re insane.” “This is why you shouldn’t do molly before your brain finishes developing.” My friends don’t believe me. My parents don’t believe me. My therapist doesn’t believe me. And I don’t blame them. I didn’t believe me either, at first. Maybe I still don’t. There’s no moral here; this isn’t some cautionary tale about the importance of keeping clean. If it were, it’d be the sickest, most twisted way to teach someone to fold their stupid clothes.
I normally fold my laundry. I do. I’m not a slob! I hate walking into my bedroom and seeing clothes on the floor. I hate it, seriously! I don’t believe in it, don’t subscribe to it, and don’t condone it. The floor could be as clean as a freshly zamboni’d ice rink, but the second my clothes touch it they instantly get dirty – coated in lint, dust, and grime that latch onto my shirts and underwear like leeches.
But no one’s perfect. I’m not an idiot, ok? I’m a realist. I’m an adult. I slip up sometimes. A bit of depression here, a dash of anxiety there, and suddenly I don’t feel like folding that huge lump of clothes the exact second the dryer vomits them out. In those cases, I put the pile on my desk chair, and I wait a few days. I go to work, I run my errands, I wash my face, and, whatever – you get the gist. Eventually, I work up the courage to square up to that foul fabric beast and tear it apart, devoting twenty minutes to folding and putting away every single piece of clothing until my room is back to its normal, serene state. This cycle is a perfectly normal part of the monotonous yet inconsistent ebb and flow that is adulthood, and I’m not going to put myself on trial for occasionally succumbing to it. Well, the last load of laundry I did was a particularly big one. Massive, actually. So big I thought the washing machine drum would break off its axle, spin out into my kitchen, and crash through a wall. After the clothes dried, I let them sit in the machine for a few days because taking them out proved too daunting a task (and yes, I opened the dryer door a bit so the clothes could air out. I’m not an idiot).
Eventually, I worked up the courage to extract the atrocious textile pile and take it to my room for folding. The pile was too big and too heavy to fit on my chair, so I threw it on the ground. I know, I know – I’m wincing at the thought. But I had too. It was enormous. At the time, folding felt like too herculean a task to do in that moment. So I waited a day. And another day. And another. I went to work, I ran my errands, I washed my face. By then, a week had gone by, and the pile was still there, on the floor at the foot of my bed. I went to bed that night promising myself I would deal with it in the morning.
Well, girls and boys, I didn’t deal with it. That day I did nothing; I did nothing but go to work, run my errands, and wash my face. And that evening I opened a beer, plopped my ass on the couch, and watched “New Girl.” I hate that show. I despise that show. But I watch reruns when my body is tired but my mind is awake; when I need something to dull my brain until it meets my body halfway on that miserable road to exhaustion.
When I crawled into bed that night, the laundry pile was still there, obviously. A sock was sticking out and touching the foot of my bed. It was funny, though, because I didn’t remember the pile physically touching my bed the night before. But who really remembers things like that, anyway? I figured the pile must have come apart a bit due to vibrations in the floor when I walked -- gravity, or something. It was a bulbous, globular, uneven stack of clothes, for fuck’s sake. I know this sounds silly – it’s just that my first thought when I saw the pile had shifted slightly towards my bed wasn’t that it was actively moving towards me.
I have bad dreams often, but that night’s was especially bad. I dreamt I stepped into an enormous bowl of pancake batter and couldn’t get out. I sunk into the batter, slowly, tortuously, inch by inch, until the beige mass globbed onto my face. Just as it covered my eyes and stuck them shut, I suddenly woke up with a shooting pain in my foot. The pain was almost indescribable: a burning, almost acidic sensation. It subsided immediately the moment I woke up and drew my legs up to my chest, curling into the fetal position and rubbing my foot until my mind coaxed itself to sleep. When I woke up that morning, my thoughts returned to that brief pain in my foot. I almost couldn’t even remember if it had been a dream or not. Until I looked at my foot. The top half of my left sole was a patchy red color. I grabbed hold of the foot and held it up as close to my face as my inflexible body could manage. My brow furrowed in disgust. I had the same expression in my face as when I was sixteen and riddled with acne and would pop an innocuous-looking zit, only for it to erupt and bukkake my mirror with an egregious quantity of pus. My disgust, however, then morphed into an acute sense of unease. Because there, in the center of this rosy patch on my foot, were four small indentations. They were deep in my skin, as far as you can press down on flesh before drawing blood. Each mark was parallel to the other. Bite marks.
I looked at my foot, then at the foot of my bed (no pun intended), where the pile of laundry sat. Then back at my foot. Then back at the pile. Something about it was different now. I swear it, suddenly it looked a bit more ominous, more looming, more… big. Yes, it was bigger. It had taken on a new color, too. A pair of jeans, my rainbow socks, and a Grand Theft Auto 5 T-shirt that I hadn’t seen before on the top of the pile were now sticking out, looking right at me. It’s strange; you don’t expect a pile of clothes to activate your fight or flight response, but looking back on that moment now, even if my conscience didn’t register it at the time, I was afraid.
I got up, got dressed with whatever clothes remained in my closet away from the pile (not much), and shut my bedroom door. I went to work that day, I ran errands, I washed my face. I went home. I changed clothes. As I changed, I stared at the pile. Now there wasn’t just a single sock touching the foot of the bed – now many, many socks were pressed against it, reaching out like little white hands of cotton. In fact, the whole pile seemed to be pushing its weight against my bed. But, like I said earlier, this was not something I consciously decided to worry about in that moment. It’s a pile of laundry, for fuck’s sake. I walked into the living room and shut the door behind me. I decided then that that night I would finally dismantle the pile and fold each and every piece of clothing. But not right then. My buddy Sam was coming over any second to have a beer and watch “New Girl.”
He got to my place twenty minutes later than he was supposed to, and when I opened the door four little legs trotted in with him. “This is Clarence!” he said with that bizarrely prideful tone in his voice that new dog owners sometimes have. It’s the same tone new mothers have, but since, as far as I know, humans are not physically capable of giving birth to chihuahuas, the tone in this case is always completely unwarranted. But I digress -- I was a little pissed, to say the least. Sam hadn’t asked if it was ok to bring Clarence. We were about five minutes into a random episode I had rouletted from season three when Clarence started yapping. I peeled my eyes off the screen and suddenly realized he wasn’t on the couch with us anymore. Indeed, he was standing right in front of my closed bedroom door, howling into the air and clawing at the wood. “Yo, Clare! Shut up!” Sam yelled as he paused the TV and sauntered over to Clarence. My first thought was Is "Clare" really a nickname for Clarence? My second thought was Oh my god. Do not let Clarence into that room.
“NO!” I blurted out.
“Huh?” Sam grunted as he turned to look at me with that big stupid face of his. Clarence kept barking.
“You… you can’t go in there,” I stammered. “It’s messy.” I straightened myself up.
Sam scoffed. “You got dead bodies in there or something?” He looked at Clarence, who refused to let up. “Something’s bothering him.”
“I can see that, but –“
Sam laughed, put his hand on the knob and started to turn.
“NO!” I screamed again. Clarence stopped barking that time. Sam took his hand off the knob.
“I told you. Don’t go in my room,” I chided.
“Dude. You… you don’t actually have dead bodies in there, do you?” Sam asked as his smile gradually disappeared.
I sighed. “Jesus Christ. Of course not! It… it’s just messy. Super messy. Like, so messy. It’s embarrassed.”
“OK. But now I feel like, as your friend, I have a responsibility to check. Just to make sure…”
“OK, well, I told you, you can’t go into my room.”
“… just to make sure you don’t have any dead bodies in there.”
“I DON’T HAVE ANY DEAD FUCKING BODIES IN MY ROOM!” My face went purple with rage.
“Well now you’re reacting as if you have a dead body in your room.” I sighed and rubbed my forehead. He had a point. “Ok. You can look inside… just… can you pick Clarence up first?”
Sam looked at me weirdly, but then quickly accepted this one condition and picked the little hairy sausage up. He grabbed the knob and turned. I held my breath as he looked inside.
“Oh my god. Dude. What the shit?”
“What? What?” I raced to the door and peered inside. The room was more or less the same as it had been that morning. Well, except for the laundry pile had…
“You should really fold your laundry, dude.”
… doubled in size. It was massive, over half the height of the room now, spilling across my bed. I started to shake. How was this happening? What was happening? There were more clothes in the pile now than I had ever owned in my entire life. And, I suddenly realized, I was no longer able to recognize the clothes themselves. While before I could clearly identify individual pieces within the pile – my red plaid boxers, my cargo shorts, a lone Nike sock – the mass now took on an abstract and mind-boggling shape. It was as if the clothes had stretched, twisted, even fused themselves together. Clashing colors bled into each other like watercolors. Disparate textures met at messy seams like some sort of scratchy, monstrous quilt.
Sam, clearly not understanding the apparent danger of this… this thing in my room, took a step forward.
“NO!” I blurted out. I said that a lot that night. And I would say it again soon.
“What is going on with you, man?” A condescending smile curled over that idiot’s lips. I couldn’t even begin to tell him. It was all too ridiculous. And yet, I had never been so terrified.
“Do you wanna go on a walk? Let’s go on a walk.”
“Huh?” Sam said with that stupid, stupid face of his cocked at such a severe angle it looked like his neck would snap in half.
My eyes turned to Clarence, who was still in Sam’s clutches and staring at the pile with wide, terrified eyes. “He hasn’t peed in a while. Let’s take him outside! Let’s take him for a walk!” I pleaded.
Sam looked at Clarence, who didn’t even register his dear owner’s gaze. His eyes were locked on the pile. He was trembling.
“Eh. He’s fine! You really should fold your laundry, though. I’ll help.” He walked towards the pile.
“NO!”
“OK, can you calm the actual fuck down, dude?” He turned to me again. Clarence squirmed in his arms. He whimpered and gnawed at the air, his little black eyes as if pleading, "let me down. Let me go."
“What the fuck, Clare?” Clarence managed to wiggle his way out of Sam’s grasp and hit the floor like a billiard ball. Immediately he twisted himself onto his feet and scurried out of the room.
“Maybe he does have to pee,” Sam wondered aloud. I sighed with relief.
“Yes! Let’s go!”
“But first we gotta deal with this.” He turned back to the pile.
“Later, Sam. Please.”
“Nah, bro. This is insane. It’s one thing to put off chores for a couple days, but this… this is mental illness,” He crouched down, right next to the pile, and reached out. “I can’t let you live like this -- ”
Then there was movement. A flash of color. A sudden jerk. A lunge. Of polyester and cotton and wool and linen. A brief yelp -- “oh!”-- managed to escape Sam’s lips just before the pile swallowed him whole.
I stood there like an idiot, frozen in terror as the pile contorted and undulated with Sam inside, re-arranging his big body like a snake swallowing a deer. The most vile and disturbing sounds I’ve ever heard accompanied Sam’s muted screams from inside: tearing, crunching, dissolving, guzzling. Sam let out one final blood-curdling scream before a nauseating POP rang out and everything went quiet. The pile was still now. A putrid smell filled the air, like the smell of raw chicken left out to rot on a hot concrete patio. Death.
Then, right before my eyes, the pile began to grow, metastasizing with new lumps of fabric sprouting in all directions. The smell got thicker and heavier with each inch the pile grew. It wasn’t until it reached the ceiling that I was able to rouse myself from my shock and I turned and ran out of the room. I grabbed Clarence, who had been scratching pathetically at my front door in a desperate bid to escape, and fled my apartment. I ran down the street. I ran down the block. I just ran. I ran for hours, in no particular direction, with Clarence in my arms.
It’s been two weeks. I’m writing this now from a motel room. I don’t know what motel it is. I ran into the first one I came across and haven’t left since. Clarence is fast asleep on the bed. He’s ugly and annoying, but I’ve found myself yelling “Clare!” when I want to get his attention. I haven’t been back to my apartment since that day. I’m never going back. I don’t want to know what’s in there, how much bigger it’s become.
I’m still wearing the same clothes from that day. My shirt and pants are heavy with sweat. I smell like shit. But it’s fine because I’m not changing my clothes. I’m not cleaning my clothes, either. Maybe I will, one day. Not for a long time, though. And if I do ever get around to it, I swear to God -- I’m folding them immediately.

I know no one will read this, but after breaking multiple bones in my left ankle in 2019, I haven't been able to live my life as I used to. After getting many pins, plates, and screws put in to stabilize it and make me able to walk again, I've been through three surgeries to mend it. And today, hopefully, will be the last one!
While in this condition, I couldn't snowboard or go for long walks, and whenever it rained, it hurt. It threw off my gait/stride, and I could no longer wear my favorite six-inch stilettos that I used to wear. For a gal with over ten pairs of six-inch stilettos, whether they be boots or pumps, it was the closest thing I had to an actual collection for fashion or girly things.
Today was hopefully the last surgery. I know it doesn't sound like much of anything, but it took a long time to get to this point, and I'm happy I finally made it to the end of what felt like a very long road. I hope to wear my favorite stilettos again. And not just that...
That I can again go for long walks with no destination. So that I can play ice hockey. Go running or jogging. Climb stairs without worrying that my ankle will give out. Go snowboarding or water skiing. Or even do the simple things I used to take advantage of, like going to the gym 3-5 times a week.
I'm in a lot of pain right now, but I'm hoping after all this, it'll be worth it.
And that maybe, just maybe, I can go back to the things that I used to do.
I'm just typing this into the abyss because I'm excited about what I'll be able to do again. The scars aren't pretty, but a little cover-up or some knee-high or thigh-high stockings, and maybe you'd never know.
A gal can dream, right?