2021.09.28 06:18 Nach037 Is Genshin Impact dead?
2021.09.28 06:18 Ralfop FLAWLESS - Waterproof Microblading Pens Super simple to use: First work into the body/thicker section of your eyebrows at a 45 degree angle (same as a pen) into the direction of your hair. As you fill it in, slowly draw into the thinner sections of your brows. Check out the video below:
|submitted by Ralfop to HANITSYPRODUCTS [link] [comments]|
2021.09.28 06:18 AutoModerator DOORDASH COUPON PROMO CODE: $10 OFF YOUR FIRST THREE ORDERS OVER $15 (WORKING SEP. 2021)
Unlimited uses, just have to create new accounts whenever you’ve used up your three previous discounts and want more cheap food! 🙂
submitted by AutoModerator to DoorDashCoupon [link] [comments]
2021.09.28 06:18 blackenronie Referral Code Does Not Exist Binance
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submitted by blackenronie to BinancePromoCode [link] [comments]
2021.09.28 06:18 cd3393 Forum sliding
'FORUM SLIDING' If a very sensitive posting of a critical nature has been posted on a forum - it can be quickly removed from public view by 'forum sliding.' In this technique a number of unrelated posts are quietly prepositioned on the forum and allowed to 'age.' Each of these misdirectional forum postings can then be called upon at will to trigger a 'forum slide.' The second requirement is that several fake accounts exist, which can be called upon, to ensure that this technique is not exposed to the public. To trigger a 'forum slide' and 'flush' the critical post out of public view it is simply a matter of logging into each account both real and fake and then 'replying' to prepositined postings with a simple 1 or 2 line comment. This brings the unrelated postings to the top of the forum list, and the critical posting 'slides' down the front page, and quickly out of public view. Although it is difficult or impossible to censor the posting it is now lost in a sea of unrelated and unuseful postings. By this means it becomes effective to keep the readers of the forum reading unrelated and non-issue items.
The hashtagkennylies or whatever and all the robinhood nonsense on all the subs recently is the most obvious and sad attempt at forum sliding I have ever seen.
DRS IS THE WAY. It has been
Noise is noise
submitted by cd3393 to GMEJungle [link] [comments]
2021.09.28 06:18 Neako_the_Neko_Lover Some things just shouldn’t be joked about
|submitted by Neako_the_Neko_Lover to iamatotalpieceofshit [link] [comments]|
2021.09.28 06:18 stevebusch ITAP of the sunset in Hvar, Croatia
|submitted by stevebusch to itookapicture [link] [comments]|
2021.09.28 06:18 Valyntine_ Hi! Could anyone help me learn what focus nodes and whatnot I should have minimum before I start trying to do tridolons?
Like the title says, I want to start arcane farming but I don't want to spend nor do I have the hundreds/thousands of plat needed to just buy them. What would you guys recommend for a baseline to start tridolon hunting? Frames and weapons aren't an issue, I'm mainly referring to both the focus and amps.
submitted by Valyntine_ to Warframe [link] [comments]
2021.09.28 06:18 psznp Test test
2021.09.28 06:18 Manny349 Best way to get xp this season?
2021.09.28 06:18 westsan This is why the keep you enslaved--- all the way back from Egyptian times... they're stealing our blood
|submitted by westsan to AfroGenesis [link] [comments]|
2021.09.28 06:18 Montayre Cheap reliable pickup?
I’m looking for a cheap semi daily driver that can tow a 12’ trailer. Ideally costs less than $5k, one ton tow cap preferable (or more but I’m not expecting that). It’ll mostly be a work truck so I mostly care about general reliability, but I realize for this price it’ll be more than a few years old. I can do most work myself but I don’t have time to be fixing things every weekend. Thanks in advance!
submitted by Montayre to whatcarshouldIbuy [link] [comments]
2021.09.28 06:18 LickitySplit13 Help a stoner out with his kief
2021.09.28 06:18 Superb_Volume_3954 You say what to Xiao?
|submitted by Superb_Volume_3954 to GenshinImpact_Memes [link] [comments]|
2021.09.28 06:18 CarlB1961 The Knock At The Door.
Knock, knock, knock.
I turn away from the TV, where I have been binge-watching Game of Thrones, and look in the direction of the front door, startled by the unexpected interruption. I hit the mute button and listen, wondering if I had imagined it. It comes again, a soft triple knock. Someone is at the front door.
I briefly wonder if maybe my parents came home early from the movies -- it is their monthly "date night" -- but I didn't hear their car pull up the driveway. Besides, they wouldn't knock on the door of their own house.
Who the hell could be out there? It is the middle of the night, we lived way out in the country, miles from the nearest neighbors, and I sure as hell wasn't expecting anyone.
It comes a third time: Knock, knock, knock.
I stand up from the couch and hesitantly approach the front door, feeling a little apprehensive. I am alone in the house, it is the middle of the night, and some mysterious person is outside the front door. Various grisly scenarios play through my mind, culled from a dozen or so home invasion horror movies I have seen. Suddenly I an acutely aware of just how isolated my family home is. If something happens and I need to call 911, it will take the police and ambulances a good while to respond.
I arrive at the front door just as the knocking -- three soft, evenly paced knocks, just like before -- comes a fourth time.
"Who is it?" I call out.
A moment of silence. Then a voice speaks from the other side of the door. It is a girl's voice. She sounds young, maybe my age.
"Please, I need some help. There's been a car accident. My boyfriend's hurt. Please let me in. I need to use your phone."
Instinctively, I reach for the deadbolt...but my hand hesitates before it makes contact. Something is wrong. Her voice is too even, too calm, almost monotone. Her tone doesn't fit with the information she has just imparted. She sounds like a bored teenager going door to door selling coupon books for a school fundraiser. I tell myself to stop being paranoid. She could just be in shock.
Still, I'm reluctant to unlock the door.
I creep to the window beside the front door and carefully draw back the curtain, peering outside. The vantage offered by the window gives me only a small view of the porch, but it's enough for me to make out an indistinct, shadowy figure standing in the darkness. I squint, straining my eyes, but can make out no features.
I flip the switch connected to the porch light outside...but nothing happens. The bulb must be burnt out.
"Please," the voice repeats, "I need some help. There's been a car accident. My boyfriend's hurt. Please let me in. I need to use your phone." The exact same phrase, in the exact same dull, emotionless tone of voice. As if she's reading from a script.
My sense of unease grows. Something is not right about any of this.
"Why don't you call for help on your own phone?" I ask. "Or your boyfriend's?"
A pause. Then: "My boyfriend's hurt. I need to use your phone. Please let me in."
My unease shifts to a nascent trickle of fear.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"I need some help. There's been a car accident."
My fear intensifies. She sounds like a recorded message.
"How about I just call 911 for you? Just tell me the location where you had your accident."
"I need some help. Please let me in."
"Not until you tell me your name," I answer firmly but with a slight tremble to my voice.
The doorknob suddenly rattles, turned from the other side. I jump back and it feels like my heart is trying to leap out of my chest. The doorknob rattles back and forth, violently, but the door is still locked.
"Hey!" I shout, "Stop that! Get out of here or I'll call the police!"
Immediately the knob stops rattling. A heavy silence descends. Moments pass and I begin to think it is over.
Suddenly: THUD! The door quivers in its frame as the unknown visitor slams their body against it from the other side. THUD! And again. THUD! And again. My heart is racing and my body is galvanized with sheer terror. I bolt to the coffee table where my phone lies and grab it, dialing 911 with trembling fingers. The thudding at the front door continues, almost rhythmically. Each impact makes my heart jump.
"911, what is your emergency?" the voice says on the other end of the line in a routine manner.
Fighting back the panic that threatens to overwhelm me, I give the dispatcher my name and address then tell them someone is trying to break into my house. The dispatcher tells me officers are on their way and advices me to find a place to hide until they arrive. I don't need to be told twice. I sprint up the stairs to my room, slam the door, lock it, then duck into my closet and close the door.
I huddle there in the dark, shaking. I can still hear the muffled intermittent thuds at the front door below. An eternity seems to pass.
Then I hear another sound off in the distance that causes relief to course through my body. Sirens, faint but getting louder as they approach.
Abruptly the thudding stops. Silence for several minutes. Then a heavy pounding at the front door that almost makes me scream. But it is not the thudding I heard before. It is the sound of someone pounding heavily at the door in an official way. An authoritative voice booms up from below, bellowing, "Is anyone in there? It's the police!"
I know I am safe now. "I'm coming!" I yell, leaving my hiding place and exiting my room, running down the hall and scrambling downstairs.
I can see flashing red and blue lights through the window. As I approach the front door I hear a man's slightly muffled voice mutter out loud in apparent bewilderment: "What the fuck is this?" I don't know if he's addressing this to his partner or just thinking out loud, and I don't care either way.
I have enough presence of mind to say "Don't shoot! I'm the one who made the call!" before I turn the deadbolt and open the door.
My two uniformed saviors stand on the porch. One of them looking at me, the other staring down at something on the porch with an expression of disgust, both of them seeming baffled.
I am so focused on the welcomed sight of the officers that I first I don't even notice the smell or what is lying on the porch. Then it hits me: a putrid reek that sears my nostrils. A smell of rotting flesh.
I look down, seeing what is lying in a heap before the front door.
A badly decayed human body. It is little more than a skeleton, its bones clotted with mud and a few lingering fragments of rotted flesh. It is dressed in the tattered remains of a formal dress and a few strands of long blonde hair are still adhered to the skull.
In a daze, I turn and look at the other side of the open front door. It is streaked with mud and smears of decomposed flesh. Smears that look as if they were made by a body slamming against the door.
One of the police officers is saying something to me but I don't know what. All sound seems to have faded out. I feel dizzy. I pass out.
Three days later, a pair of detectives stop by to speak with me. We sit in the living room, my parents bracketing me protectively on the couch.
The detectives explain that the morning after my nighttime ordeal, a caretaker at a cemetery several miles from my house called to report a case of "vandalism." A grave had been dug up, the casket broken into, and the body stolen.
Police believe it had all been someone's idea of a "sick practical joke" and that they had planted the body on my porch, pounded on the door, and then fled when the police had arrived.
I ask the police about the body that had been disinterred. They hesitate for a moment, exchanging an uncomfortable look. They look back to me and explain that it had belonged to a local teenaged girl who had died forty years earlier in a car accident. She had been on a date with her boyfriend on a rainy night and they had lost control of the vehicle and crashed into a tree.
They leave it at that and I don't push them, but after they go, I do some research on my own. I find an old newspaper article about the accident online.
The article explains that the boy had died instantly in the crash, but the girl had survived the impact badly wounded. She had walked more than a mile to the nearest house, apparently looking for help -- this was forty years ago, long before mobile phones -- and had succumbed to her injuries on the front porch, unaware that the homeowners had been out of town on vacation. She had apparently pounded on the front door for some time in a vain bid to seek aid before dying because her blood was smeared all over the wood.
The road where the accident had taken place was the same road where my family's house stands...
The only house in the area for miles.
I look at the date of the accident. It was exactly forty years to the night when I had heard the knocking.
I want to let it go and put it behind me, to forget about the whole thing. Probably the police are right and it was just the work of some local teens, or drunk college kids, playing a sick, half-assed prank...
But there's one thing still bothering me. One last thing I need to know.
I borrow my parents' car and drive out to the cemetery where the girl was buried. It is only about three miles from where I live, not far from the site of the accident.
The caretaker is a white-haired, heavy-set man in his early sixties. I tell him who I am and what happened to me the other night. He is reluctant to speak to me about it at first, but I press him until he relents. His face is troubled and there is something in his eyes, a look it takes me a moment to identify.
He explains that when he found the disturbed grave, it didn't appear to have been dug up from above; there were no shovel marks in the soil. Instead, it looked as if someone -- or something -- had tunneled up to the surface from below.
He had called the police and watched as they exhumed the casket. A large hole had been smashed through the lid. And when the police had opened the empty casket to examine the interior, he had seen something else. Had just glimpsed it for a second...but a second was enough.
There were scratches on the inside of the splintered lid.
Scratches made by fingers.
submitted by CarlB1961 to nosleep [link] [comments]
2021.09.28 06:18 Netaji_1st_PM Librandu Christian after debate... aa gaya aukaat mai. par debate cchod ke bhag gaya :(
2021.09.28 06:18 Vanechka7 Prime Icon Roy Kent — Legendary CM for England & AFC Richmond
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2021.09.28 06:18 P4TiENT27 How can I improve the noise in my render , your time is much appreciated
|submitted by P4TiENT27 to blender [link] [comments]|
2021.09.28 06:18 hornyalt66 I want to dye my hair purple
2021.09.28 06:18 Meowmbaikar Today I finally started my Small business
Hie everyone, i am Akshata from India. Today i finally started my very small gift hamper store on instagram. I feel happy, i just started it with my 100$ savings and a three year old redmi 6 phone. I dont have audience, can you guys give some tips on how to grow it. What are some subreddits or other places on internet where i can promote it? Thank you
submitted by Meowmbaikar to smallbusiness [link] [comments]
2021.09.28 06:18 Superb_Volume_3954 You say what to Xiao?
|submitted by Superb_Volume_3954 to GenshinMemepact [link] [comments]|
2021.09.28 06:18 AlanRogerBarrettVlog What I have learned my 3rd day of doing 100 sit ups each day.
2021.09.28 06:18 mongolian__navy I'll just play one Tier 7 BB match before bed, what's the worst that can happen
|submitted by mongolian__navy to WoWs_Legends [link] [comments]|
2021.09.28 06:18 Downtown_Tip_154 Drinking?
I’ve been on 750mg(4-5 months with regular testing) of lithium and 200mg(1+year) of lamotrigine. I am turning 21 on Friday and I want to drink alcohol. I haven’t really ever been one to drink, so I def don’t plan on overdoing it. Should I not drink alcohol? What is your experience? I smoke weed every now and then and that’s fine. I have had one beer since being on the meds and I haven’t felt any bad effects. I will be out of town and in an not familiar place so if it’s actually not the greatest idea please!! Let me know.
submitted by Downtown_Tip_154 to Lithium [link] [comments]
2021.09.28 06:18 goat_cheeze_ felt cute (✿◡‿◡) (under 18)
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