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Hercule Poirot and Inspector Japp discuss the details of another case.
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Kiana Khansmith

Kaledo Art
Claire Keane

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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DEAR READER

Andulka
Cosimo Galluzzi

Discoholic 🪩

JBB: An Artblog!
cherry valley forever
ojovivo
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
we're not kids anymore.
AnasAbdin
Cosmic Funnies
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
KIROKAZE
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@reachmouse
sound on
Hercule Poirot and Inspector Japp discuss the details of another case.
An oldie, but a favourite.
Happy Glorious 25th of May.
[id: a drawing of lilacs and an egg, and text that reads "truth! justice! freedom! reasonably priced love! and a hard-boiled egg!" end id]
So I self-published a short novel- Stealing Fire, some chapters of which were originally posted on my Patreon a few years back. It's up for 4.99 or free on Kindle unlimited. It's an urban fantasy heist story told from multiple perspectives so if that sounds like something you might be interested in, feel free to check it out.
As you go to bed tonight don't forget to leave out your hardboiled egg and lilac for John Keel
aadam jacobs's archive
@gothiccharmschool
Midnight City
Midnight City was a syndicated crime drama that ran for roughly 100 episodes and 5 seasons, from 1997-2002.
The first season was pretty straightforward- a private eye, one Jake Elwood, was hired to find Natalia Caravaggio, who just so happened to be the daughter of local mob boss Salvadore Caravaggio. Naturally, the search for her was the throughline of that entire season as Jake interacted with the various gangs and crime families in the city, which was never named. (But bore a certain suspicious resemblance to Vancouver, where it was filmed.) Some episodes were heavily focused on the search for Natalia, while others followed what was called by many a "Mobster of the Week" format.
In the finale of Season 1, he finally finds Natalia, only to end up getting run through with a spear, used by the mysterious "Mr. Long", the man who Jake believed had kidnapped the young woman. Jake apparently dies, but Natalia managed to get away in the confusion.
And then the after credits teaser showed Jake sitting up, shirtless, with only a faint scar from what should have been a fatal wound to the chest.
Online speculation was rampant, with rumors about a retooling in the face of lagging ratings to this being intended all along to the show having been cancelled outright.
The truth was probably closer to the first one, as when season 2 started airing, several cast members did not return, including most of the supporting cast from the Caravaggio family and Mr. Long. The first episode opened in media res, with Jake, very confused as to why he's alive, being given a guided tour of what his guide called "The Midnight City, the first time the title was ever dropped in the show.
Many previous characters were reintroduced as explicitly supernatural beings- including one of the rival families to the Caravaggios, the Romanian crime family called the Dragos, who, Jake was told, were all vampires and their thralls.
Jake's guide, an unhoused man named Archer Baldwin, introduced himself as a seer, who'd been guided by visions to find Jake in the wake of what he called "The Dolorous Stroke"- the spear wound that nearly killed Jake in the first season finale. Archer claimed that Jake was walking a mythical path, and that he wouldn't be able to avoid the supernatural by closing his eyes to it, as he'd done before.
This new supernatural element to the series would endure for the remaining four seasons as Jake dealt with Natalia, now a demonic recurring antagonist, worked with Archer on how to follow his mythical path, learned his brother had become an invisible assassin, and died at least two more times.
i love explaining the etymology of the word "rickroll" because the story starts with "ok, so at one point 4chan applied a filter to everyone's posts that changed the word egg to duck"
grandfather....
I had no idea! All this time I assumed "rolling" was some kind of shortened form of "trolling". ...of course, this etymology could itself be a troll. You can never quite trust the internets.
Working on a new RPG project
Because I love writing for an incredibly niche audience. (The niche is me, I'm writing for me.)
These guys would be the biggest hit at any Renaissance fair they went to.
An envoy from a kingdom in the far East comes to your hamlet and of course you give them a warm welcome!
Do you have any idea what access to the spice road would do for the tiny Dukedom of Fairground By the Budget Hilton?
My daughter has a book “Every Night is Pizza Night” by J. Kenji López-Alt. It’s about trying new foods and she goes on a quest to discover new foods in the community despite being convinced (after multiple scientific studies) that pizza is THE BEST.
As she tries new foods she says “I do not want it. I do not need it. But I will try it. For science.”
And honestly, that phrase has stuck in our family lexicon. To the point that I just used it to describe having to work with my cousin on a family thing.
“I do not want to. I do not need to. But I will. For science.”
I just wanted to share because kids books are amazing at giving all of us little bits of wisdom to help us get through the day.
Went to the grocery store with my kindergartener. We weighed some bananas: 2 pounds even. We weighed a watermelon: 4 pounds even. We weighed some mangos: a little over 1 pound. We weighed the watermelon AND the bananas: 6 pounds even.
“That’s funny” said the child “because 2+4=6 and two pounds and four pounds is six pounds. It’s like the same as math!”
“What happens if you add 6+1?”
“SEVEN”
“What if we put one pound of mangos on the scale?” <mangos added>
“IT’S THE SAME!!”
“OK, what’s 7-4?”
“Three?”
“What if we take the four pound watermelon off the scale?” <watermelon removed>
“Mama! Are you telling me math works In Real Life? Think of all the things you could measure!!”
To appreciate this story, please understand that my child Bear, aged 9, is nonjudgmental and dreamy, and Mouse - aged 3 - is wildly charming, but above all things requires that OTHER people behave with DECENCY and DECORUM.
Today, Mouse’s principles had been compromised, because (among other things) I had allowed their two-year-old friend to finish eating an apple core that Mouse had not entirely abandoned (violating an ancient rule of chivalry) but when this was pointed out, I hissed privately that we had to let the baby eat the apple, citing some obscure law about ‘hospitality’. I had also asked Mouse to overlook this baby’s other crimes, such as chucking toy cars about, and flagrantly hogging a small balloon.
“That,” mouse says strongly, all propriety outraged, “is NOT sharing!!!”
Earlier in the day, after swimming, when Mouse’s best friend Bess acquired some gummy snacks, Bess did NOT trade them with a favourable exchange rate for Mouse’s generously offered cheese snacks; and one of Mouse’s other good friends, Syndy, has invited them over to play fire engines NEXT week. Attentive minds will instantly notice that this is not THIS week, when Mouse would prefer it to happen.
Syndy furthermore is persisting in having their birthday party in MARCH, not tomorrow - I DO hope you can understand the stress that Mouse is under. Also, Mouse has - in their own opinion- generously offered to forgive these crimes, by kissing and making up; but, although their friends often accept the snog, they continue the crimes. Thus, poor Mouse! The last defender of good manners! A parfait gentil knight! Is reduced to screaming: THIS IS NOT WHAT WE DO. That is TOO MUCH.
(Bess demonstrated being Too Much this morning by uncoupling their car seat and climbing into the boot of a car, and sprinting across a parking lot while their sire howled in anguish; while respecting Bess’s tremendous coolness and defiance, Mouse is the first one to condemn their wild behaviour, and the loudest voice to shriek: “NO BESS YOU ARE BEING TOO MUCH.”)
When Mouse, aged 3, and I came downstairs this evening - I had just had a Mouse-assisted shower- we found that Bear, aged 9, was watching Galaxy Quest with their sire.
Mouse watched with appreciation as a pretty lady on the screen snogged an attractive man. “Oh,” they said, tenderly, delighted.
The kiss deepened. “OH!” Mouse hooted, and coo’ed with approval, as someone who snogs their friends with almost-alarming lack of discrimination - they said, supportively, “oh good! A good kiss.”
The lady produced some tentacles.
“Oh, WHAT?” mouse said, aggrieved by this. “Oh WHAT!!!!”
The lady produced more tentacles, and helpfully dragged the man under.
“THAT IS NOT,” howled a beleaguered Mouse, “HOW WE KISSING.” And they proceeded to shriek in outrage; “NO LADY! That is NOT NICE KISSING! YOU STOP IT!”
The snogging continued. The man disappeared.
“MUMMY,” Mouse shrieked, “MUMMY, LADY NOT NICE KISSING!”
“Er,” i said.
“HIM SAD,” mouse said, feeling tremendously on the side of the gentleman, “THAT IS TOO MUCH.”
“Well, you see, Mousey,” I said, inadequately: “sometimes, some ladies are squids…”
I petered out.
Bear came to the fore. “And some boys,” they declared, with confidence, “are octopuses.”
I like to imagine Mouse's narration was nearly identical to the man's own internal monologue during the struggle.
YOU GET THE FUCK BACK HERE AND EXPLAIN THAT RIGHT NOW
well damn
Every time, I know what's coming, but every time, I just lose it at "Uh. That"
I already lost it at "that time we ate our prime minister" and "Uh. That" didn't really help.
tiny chapel
Am I the asshole for getting my best friend killed?
I swear to God, it was an accident.
My (27) BF (34) has a reputation for getting himself out of any jam you can imagine; and at first it was just a fun little thing the friend group noticed: there goes Oily J wiggling his way out of trouble again. but as the meme evolved in the group, it got to the point where we'd loykey started getting him into situations just to see how he'd get out of 'em, and he akept getting out of em. He was having fun with it too same as us. "Oh you guys," he'd say, "getting me into situations again," before laughing it off and getting out of it, so it was enrichment for our shared enclosures, and as time went on, the situations got more intense.
The trouble is, it turns out that putting a man in too many situations eventually gets the police interested. And not local hobsknockers cops either; they was like, proper three-letter FEDs. They put out a bounty on any information pertaining to his capture and everything. It was good money too so I thought, hey why don't I put J in another situation he can wiggle out of like always (and he'd wiggled outta worse before, so I thought this one'd be relatively mild), and at the next boardgame night (cause it was too late to do anything special for this one) we can buy some extra strong booze and get absolutely blitzed while having a giggle about the situation.
Boardgame night, and we were playing some social deduction nonsense or another and he says: "One of you is gonna betray me tonight." and I can't help but think, looking back on it, that he knew. It's stupid, I know he was talking about the game, but the way he said it, it was like he knew. We all felt it, and we had a big round robin round the table taking turns promising that we'd never betray him. And I said it so easily cause I thought it was true. Sure, I was gonna talk to the feds about a bounty; but, I fully expected my big beautiful oily boy to wiggle his way out of the trouble I was 'bout to cause, and that's not a betrayal. I wasn't lying. I didn't think I was lying.
My big beautiful oily boy didn't manage to wiggle his way out of it. They killed him and I got my blood money. He's gone.
He's gone and I'm devastated, crying, mourning. I loved him so much. We all did. And I can't stop thinking that it's my fault: that I'm the reason he's gone. and it is. and the guilt is eating me up inside. and I just need to talk to someone about it. So, I tell the rest of the group what happened in the group chat, hoping they'd understand that I didn't want this. I didn't want the government's blood money. It was supposed the be a prank. some joint enclosure enrichment. He was supposed to wiggle out of it like he always does... did, i mean.
They call me, among worse things, the asshole and kick me from the group chat. And, I know it's my fault he's dead: I know that. If I didn't do what I did, he wouldn't be dead right now. But, I didn't mean it for it to end up this way. He was supposed to be okay, damn it. I loved him. AITA?
AITA?
YTA
NTA
JAH
NAH
ESH
INFO
Damned for all time
What are these acronyms?
Happy Good Friday
This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years.
If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life.
I reblogged her late last year and my 2024 has been very satisfying work-wise and (secure enough to not stress out) money-wise so far. Money Snake is wise and good.
always reblog money snake
More of my art @alwaystiredshark
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