The atlanta humane society

The signing of the Comprehensive Dangerous Drugs Act of 2002 (Republic Act No. 9165) on June 7, 2002, by President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo aimed to strengthen the Philippines' efforts in combating illegal drugs.
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The act introduced provisions to enhance law enforcement capabilities, promote prevention and education programs, establish rehabilitation and treatment centers, and foster international cooperation.
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Its effect on the country has been a mixed bag, with proponents lauding its efforts in curbing drug-related crimes and addiction rates, while critics argue that it has resulted in human rights abuses, extrajudicial killings, and a controversial war on drugs.
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What do you guys/gal think would've happened if this law doesn't exist?
Is a Duterte presidency still inevitable if then?

I think all anime seasons used temporal evolutions for the main cast, Tailmon/Gatomon from Adventure/02 being a little exception (it has the "permanent" base at Champion, but also has temporal evolutions for further levels, and when it loses a lot of energy it goes back to a lesser level until it recovers to get back to the Champion base), having a similar backstory we have Andromon/Guardromon and Hirokazu in Tamers (they met him as Andromon, got beaten and stayed permanently as Guadromon), he never evolved after that.
Mangas used both, VTamer=Permanent, Chronicle=Permanent, Next=Temporal, Xros Wars=Temporal, Cybersleuth=Temporal, Re:Digitize=A mix of both (there is a tamer who has a LadyDevimon and Angewomon, other has a BlackWargreymon X, the rest of the cast do temporal evolutions)
Video games mainly use permanent evolutions, vpets mainly use temporal evolutions, there are exceptions of course, but that's how you could easily split them.
Lore wise, Digimon with human partners just do a temporal fast foward, so there isn't really a "mix of both", that's all, permanent would be they stay evolved until they die (and might turn into an egg and grow all over again)

Hey everybody. It's been a while. I wanted to make a post discussing some changes in my life and how I've been reflecting on them.
Primarily. I wanted to start a discussion focusing on the idea that women are still largely expecting and pressuring men to live up to toxic and outdated gender roles.
Because the model of unilateral male oppression where "men" are the oppressor class that the system is built for while "women" are the oppressed class that the system is built to exploit. Is blatantly wrong.
The system rewards both genders differently. and has different but equally shitty roles for both. it does not favor either.
What many people don't see is how poorly society treats men who try to be anything other than a stoic provider.
A few months back I had a bit of a mental revolution. After a pretty amicable break with my ex girlfriend I started dating around. For one, I realized I'm much more Bi/pan than I had realized. (Dick is pretty great!). And I really don't have a specific reason to identify as male. I don't really care how I present, It's a matter of aesthetic. I like my nails painted and I like to smell like strawberries. If I thought a dress would look nice I'd wear it. But I fucking don't. So I don't. But I've started defining myself as nonbinary where I can. And it's only come with a sense of belonging and feeling welcome. People react differently. I swear. It's sadly noticeable how some (Not all) people seem to be more willing to show empathy if I state to them that I do not identify as a man. And it's even more sad that these are most often otherwise "left wing" people.
But on a lighter note. I also realized that dating trans girls is fucking amazing. And don't get me wrong. I'm still open to the idea of dating a cisgender woman. I just literally haven't found one who reciprocated my interest genuinely the way that the trans women I've dated have.
In the last few months I have had more fun, Felt more wanted, More accepted, more sexually desirable and more..... human?
So so many cisgender women would just ghost me if I wasn't jumping through hoops to "prove myself" to her. I've had more than one cisgender woman bluntly ask for a hookup only to ghost me when I didn't have a truck(not car, Specifically a truck) of my own to drive them around in. So so many times with dating cisgender women I've been treated like I'm some beast of burden. Like It's my duty to provide for them and my reward was them spreading their legs for some dispassionate emotionless missionary.
That's been my experience dating Cisgender women lately.
My experience dating trans women has been everything I've craved.
I've been approached. More than once now I've had absolutely beautiful transgender women send me the first message. And ask about me. What I like and not just what I do for work. How I feel and not just what I've done.
We've gone on simple yet amazingly romantic dates. Bike rides in the park on edibles to just getting fast food delivered and watching youtube videos on our shared interests while cuddling.
And don't get me started on the sex. And it's not just because of the familiarity trans women have with how a dick works. The passion is so real. sex feels like something they want to do. And not just a concession for an expensive date.
Now again. I don't want to say that women are malicious. Most of my close friends are women.
But what I'm trying to bring attention to with sharing this all is that men are still largely victim to their gender roles. And women play a much bigger role in enforcing these gender roles on men than most people understand.
There is this all too common yet repugnant mindset among some cisgender women that men proverbially "owe" or are below them. This I think is largely a product of the portrayal of "men" in popular discourse as being an inherently privileged oppressor class.
Something that is common even in right wing communities. Culminating in this toxic sense of entitlement myself and others have run into.

Throwaway for obvious embarrassing reasons. On mobile and English is not my first language. Apologies for formation and/or grammar.
I feel like the worst human being. I work with a family member (same company, not the same department), lets call her S. During a meeting I received news of S’s manager going away due to pursuing more challenging opportunities (this info is freely sharable) and after meeting I met up with S (not on purpose) and we discussed the news, she shared with me that her manager had been asked to leave (this info was not meant to be shareable). Stupidly I shared the news with my colleagues. I forgot for a moment where the news came from. So so stupid. Anyway it’s like the episode of Friends where Ross runs around trying to stop the flow of info to Rachel. But instead I am posibly jepordizing S’s reputation (I have no idea how widely this is known or not) but most importantly S’s manager although was let go, deserves the dignity of not having this info circulated without her consent. I feel like a bag of dicks. What should I do? Do I write to my colleagues? We have an ok relationship. Do I make a group chat (we have a main one, but some people were WFH today and don’t know the news) or should I talk individualy? Do I do nothing at all? What is the best course here?

The Royal Society of Biology run an annual amateur photography competition, open to international entries. This year we're inviting entries on the theme of 'Nature and Climate'. Life on Earth is affected by the climate, weather and seasonal changes and we invite you to capture this.
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There are two prize categories:

• Photographer of the Year (18 and over) - £1,000 top prize
• Young Photographer of the Year (under 18) - £500 top prize

Please submit up to three photographs before 27th June to enter.
More information, previous entries and details of how to apply are available at rsb.org.uk/photocomp

A newly created company has bought a single-storey building and needs to carry out the
installation of the necessary network devices to provide connectivity between theirs
workers. At first you only need to connect them to each other, but later it will be necessary
that have a connection between the different networks.
To take into account:
● Use of Packet Tracer
● Use the range of private IPs you consider
● It is necessary to create the necessary VLANs to provide service to the different groups
of users:
○ Marketing (3 users)
○ Design (4 users)
○ Sales (10 users)
○ Development (5 users)
○ Human Resources (4 users)
● Each user group must have its own network addressing range.
● Tag all devices on the network.
● Enter a name for each of the devices on the network.
● The process of creating vlans must be done by using the commands
necessary explained in the theory. IT IS NECESSARY TO DOCUMENT, THAT IS, INDICATE
ALL COMMANDS THAT HAVE BEEN ENTERED TO PERFORM THE
CONFIGURATION ON ALL NETWORK DEVICES.
To do:

1. Design of the network necessary to provide a solution to the company's requirements. In

this first section, only the connection between the different users of each group.
a. Perform the logical network diagram in Packet Tracer. This includes the connection
between the floors of the building.
b. Defines the required network ranges.
c. Add the necessary equipment, with the network configuration that
correspond
d. Make the necessary checks.

1. Make the necessary changes and/or contributions to the network diagram in order to be able

connectivity between the different groups of network users.

1. Make the structured wiring layout of the plant keeping in mind the number

of users described above.
To deliver:
● .pkt file of point 1 → surname_name_point1.pkt
● .pkt file of point 2 → surname_name_point2.pkt
● .pkt file of point 3 → surname_name_point3.pkt

You have been a good woman your whole life, but you also have carried a secret with you that fills you with silent shame and embarrassment, because your fantasy doesn't match your personality at all. There is something secretly submissive in you that yearns to be satisfied. You long for a dominant, sexy, man to take control of you and discipline you. You want to feel helpless...dominated...NOT in control. You want to have your panties forcibly taken down and be spanked like a naughty school girl. You want to be pushed down over the sofa, feel your skirt lifted, your moistened underwear pulled aside. You want a big, hard cock to invade your slippery wetness, stretching you wider than you thought possible and making you feel oh so delicious!. You are a normal person, constrained by society's conventions and frustrated by your inability to realize your innermost fantasies. You want to be spanked with your panties down and you want to be fucked hard! -- you are already getting wet right now just thinking about it.
I am a well educated, intelligent & professional man who is physically fit and accustomed to dealing with naughty women like you. I will lecture you and instruct you to pull your skirt up around your waist as I kneel before you and pull your panties down to your thighs. The delicious smell of your aroused pussy will rise to meet me. You will feel the cool air on your bush and revel in the delicious anticipation. Then I will instruct you to stand against the wall with your legs spread and your hands above your head while I slowly pace about behind you and your clit tingles with excitement. You will feel my eyes on your pussy and this thought will excite you even more. Then I will call you sternly and bend you over a chair so that your pussy is in full view - wet, exposed, vulnerable. Oh, the shame of it. I will stroke your clit gently and when you try to stop me I will slap your cheeks hard.
Then I will commence the spanking proper. Perhaps I will use my hand. If you resist too much I will use a slipper or my leather belt. It will sting, but not be intolerable, and every now and again you would feel my fingers probe your fragrant slippery slit, making you gasp with pleasure and ache for penetration. Maybe I will tell you to reach between your legs and spread your lips apart with your fingers as I kneel behind you and slide my tongue between your sopping aromatic folds. I will continue spanking your now very red ass and you will be torn between tears and screams of delight. When your punishment is over, I will instruct you to kneel in front of me and take my big cock deep into your mouth, making you almost gag as I hold your hair and fuck your face while you moan approvingly and look up at me, your eyes wild with desire. When I am convinced that you want my cock badly enough I will turn you around on your hands & knees and I will wait as you kneel in that position until you BEG me to fuck you, and then I will grab you firmly by your hips and RAM my hard cock into your wet & swollen pussy hard and fast; banging you the way you were meant to be banged, until we both collapse in a sweaty heap of sexual bliss.
I know you are wet after reading this so lets do something about it..

Hello, I am new here, and this is a throwaway account for personal privacy reasons. It is nice to find that this subreddit exists, as I am just now, after a lifetime, coming around to see the impact of emotional neglect on my life. I am middle-aged and am kind of watching the entire edifice of my life that I built crumbling down.
I picked up a copy of Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents and have been floored repeatedly by how much it seemed written specifically for me (unfortunately, it was written for millions), it has been personally revolutionary. It's a very difficult book for me to read, and I can only do a chapter each day. It often leaves me in a very heavy mood.
After doing the exercises on on role-self (the person I manufactured to be me in my life) and my healing-fantasy (the change the role-self wants in other people), I have moved on to the chapter on my true self. This has been a mild catastrophe.
The book describes the true self as someone you were in childhood before you learned self-criticism and other factors that lead to the creation of the role-self out to enact the healing fantasy in the world. It has an exercise where you write down what had meaning to you in your childhood, and suggests you think back before fourth grade. The problem is, I was abused since infancy. My first memories are of abuse and that is an unbroken continuum for all of my life. By this book's framework, as I understand it, I never had a true self. I had abuse until I created the role-self.
Yesterday, I would have said spending ten billion dollars to put this book in the hands of humanity would be a boon to the world, and I still think that, but to me... I no longer know how to proceed. The book's premise seems to require that at some point in my life I have a true self that got buried, but I don't. Beneath all of the abuse is nothing, or I suppose the face of the Buddha before I was born or something transcendental like that. Before abuse, I did not exist.
Is anyone else familiar with this book, and have had this experience? Is the role-self the best it's ever going to be for me?
I appreciate your time, and if nothing else, I appreciate that this space exists for people.
Thank you, and I wish you the best.

Welcome to the Southampton Social Weekly Thread - posted every Tuesday
This is the place for making new friends or sharing a meetup. Let people know what your interests are, or the specific event you're looking to go to in the comments.
Meetup.com & the Bumble BFF app are good ways to make new friends, as well as the suggestions in this thread.
Meetups & Groups
All Soton Meetups Southampton Discord
Evening Classes Curious Monkeys
Women’s Meet Up Volunteering
UoS Societies Solent University Societies
Sports
Soton Football Meetup Bouldershack Climbing Gym
Soton Give It A Go Adventures Spitfires Running Club
BBC Sport Club Finder Daily Echo Sports Clubs
Board Games & Table Top
Board in the City Geek Retreat
Southampton On Board Southampton Sluggaz (40k)
Millenium Falcon DnD/Tabletop Group
Arts & Crafts
The Art House Cafe SoMakeIt Makers Space
Arches Studio Urban Sketchers
The Design Chapel Hampshire Sketch Group

Hi everyone.
To Kill a Predator is a work of fan fiction set in the Nature of Predators universe originally created by SpacePaladin15 whose Patreon you should subscribe to.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Depiction does not equal endorsement.
Hope you enjoy it!
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Memory transcription subject: Thiva, Venlil Civilian
Date [standardized human time]: December 6th, 2136
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Thank the Protector for Vilek.
She had stepped up in every possible way. She coached me on the right answers to give to the assessors. She worked with a Krakotl named Jarkim to keep the Exterminator’s office at bay. And she took care of answering questions from a reporter named Sharnet that reached out to me since both the humans who contacted her, mister Sinclair and Martin, had fallen prey to the Liberators.
This was the paw where I got to leave the hospital. My injuries were actually quite minor (or so they claimed), but they had kept me under observation for several paws to see if I’d display Predator Disease after everything that happened. There was a real risk that after all that, after what Martin sacrificed for me, I’d just end up in a Facility.
At first I thought I probably should be. I was happy that Renak was dead, and I wanted Vansi to die too. For the first couple of paws just thinking about being tied in that chair with Renak whistling and leaning over me with his knife and claws and teeth… it made me shake and scream, once even until I soiled myself.
Thinking about what Vansi had done to Martin made me shriek with anger and throw things and tear curtains. Vilek had stayed by my side though, and helped cover up the incidents each time. Without her I’d be in a Facility for sure.
Then she got me in contact with a human assessor over video calls, a man named doctor Johan Eriksson with ice-blue eyes and a lot of yellow fur all over his face. And just as Martin had promised, Johan was aghast at hearing about the Federation’s treatment of Predator Disease. Johan promised me that my feelings were entirely normal, and that he’d help me work through everything.
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I’ve had three calls with him since then, and while every one of them ended with me in tears I always felt better afterwards. He was teaching me a system called ‘Mindfulness’. By examining my own emotions and surroundings in a neutral way, it was possible for me to significantly reduce the symptoms! And it was working, it really was. I was more able to manage my emotions. I could recognize when the world was fading into a furious orange or horrid gray, and pull myself back from the brink.
And he said there were other coping strategies to use too, that he’d be providing me with all the tools I needed to grow myself like a garden: Pruning the bad parts, watering the good, and planting the seeds of the sort of person I wanted to grow into.
The humans love their metaphors! But this one was rather beautiful, so I didn’t mind. I quite liked to imagine myself as a garden! But not the ones on Venlil Prime. One of the ones on Earth. Johan had showed me pictures. So full of different colors, dozens of types of insects, so many birds… an explosion of life and color and joy!
That’s the kind of garden I wanted to be. Someday.
​
Coming back home was tough. Not just because I had to pick between being woozy from painkillers or aching with all the little motions of daily life (I had settled on being woozy), but also because of all the little reminders.
Vilek had pressured the landlord into replacing the front door, but the new color reminded me of the break-in. The door to Martin’s room was entirely absent. Martin was entirely absent.
I didn’t feel safe sleeping in my bed. Vilek let me share hers. I woke up crying and feeling her claws stroking through my fur to comfort me.
I was grateful, truly grateful, for my friend. But she wasn’t the one I wanted to hold me.
A claw later I screamed when the pad rang for a phone call, and had to sit and do my mindfulness exercises while Vilek answered it.
She hung up in a hurry and rushed over to me and grasped my paw. “Thiva, we have to get to the hospital! Right now!”
​
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Memory transcription subject: Martin Russo, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: December 11th, 2136
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I am in more pain than at any other point in my entire life.
Every single part of my being hurts on a level so deep I can feel it in my soul, and I don’t even believe those exist.
My tears are flowing freely and shamelessly. My mouth is open and my drool tastes alkaline, my throat trying to shield itself from the vomit that’s threatening to flow forth.
Taking a single step requires more willpower than I can even wrap my head around. Every single muscle has to be tensed manually, my brain simply refuses to pass the ‘walk’ signal to the body. My shaking limbs move in slow motion, like wading through thick non-Newtonian fluid. Like an arthritic, decrepit old man.
And always that voice. That fucking voice. That fucking voice I need to shut it up I hate you I hate you so much I hate you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you
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“Good job, Martin! One more step, c’mon, you can do it! Gold star!”
“fuck you… fuck you… fuck you… fuck you…” The mantra helps me manage the last step, before I collapse. First to my knees, then down to my hands. Then onto my face, on the soft and spongy floor.
Chasa, my Zurulian arch-nemesis, pads over to me fearlessly and sits down. She licks a paw before stroking it through my hair, giving me a cowlick. “Great job! I can tell you’ve been doing your exercises! Good boy!”
I can’t move my limbs right now. “hate you. hate you so much.”
She pads over to a small teddy bear-sized table and holds up my medical file. She’s had it printed out on actual paper with an actual manila folder, just for this purpose. “That’s fine! You don’t hate the gold star, though, do you?”
“…that’s for children…”
“Oh, so you don’t want it?”
I growl as menacingly as I can. It’s not particularly impressive. She holds up the little gold star sticker and wags it at me, before placing it on my file. She doesn’t seem particularly afraid of me. Though to be fair, even though she weighs maybe 20 kilos soaking wet she could probably take me in a fight.
Chasa looked up human physical therapy before taking on my case, and apparently learned about this incentive system… someplace. Each session she gives me a gold star if I manage to go above and beyond. I hate it. It’s infantilizing, condescending, and juvenile. And it works. I want the gold star. This is my fifth fucking physical therapy session and I want my fifth fucking gold star. It’s the least she can do after she makes me torture myself.
“Fantastic work! Alright, so after third-meal I want you to try and walk around your bed. Back and forth, as many times as you can. And remember to rotate your arm!”
“ah, i see. you hate me too.”
Chasa looks immensely happy and pleased as a couple of Venlil nurses get me onto a too-small gurney. She takes a little sugar and salt treat from a bowl for cubs or pups or whatever, and walks over to place it in my lap. “See you next paw, Martin!”
I will find a way to pay her back for this.
​
I woke up around five or six paws ago with tubes in every orifice on my body, and was very surprised to find myself alive.
The full story only came later. Slavik and Jarkim had taken out one of the Liberators, but Jarkim had gotten badly wounded as a result. As soon as they had dumped Jarkim back at the truck, Slavik double-timed it to the house. They passed Thiva and Mosun on the way, and managed to arrive in time to stop Vansi from setting me on fire. By shooting her.
Not that that would’ve mattered, considering my massive blood loss and organ damage and being stuck out in the middle of Fuckoff Nowheresota.
The fact that there was a UN army base about two dozen miles away saved me, as their helicopters showed up to take over the scene and haul all the injured to the hospital. The medics were able to get to me within the Golden Hour. Though considering the extent of my injuries it was apparently closer to the Golden Ten Minutes.
Since then I had been in a medically induced coma while the hospital grew replacements for just about every single one of my organs. To hear tell of it, I’d have had no chance long-term without the Zurulians’ almost unfathomably advanced technology. The alien teddy bears were able to salvage my broken body, even though it’s likely that my left leg, left arm, and right hand will never be the same again.
And now I get to torture myself back to health. Oh joy.
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My lambchops have been showing up every day or paw or whatever for visiting hours, and staying each time until they’re chased out by the nurses.
Each time I see them enter my room it feels better than a shot of whatever the aliens use instead of morphine; the sight of them together and safe lifts my spirits and puts a smile on my face.
We spend most of our time watching movies or TV shows on the pad, while they take turns holding my hand or stroking my head. I pet them back as much as I can, but for now both that and talking for any length of time are too draining.
They’ve been showing me some of the classic works of the Venlil. I’ve been showing them classics of humanity.
“Hey Blondie! You know what you are?! Just a dirty sonofa-” Aaa-aa-aaaaa!
The lambchops whistle with joyful laughter, releasing the tension of the long finale of the finest Western of all time.
Thiva sighs with relief. “Oh Protector, I really thought he was going to kill Tuco!”
“No way, he’s ‘The good’ of the title! And it was a call-back to the first part of the film where he kept shooting him down, there’s no way they wouldn’t take the opportunity to tie it all together!”
“Yeah, I guess… Is that seriously what humans considered ‘good’ back then?”
I interject. “You could argue that Blondie is supposed to be ‘the good’, but he’s really more like the ‘least bad’. The people making the movie were living under a dictatorship, so a lot of films from the nation of Spain around that time were made from a very cynical point of view.”
Thiva leans against me and runs her claws through my hair, making me shiver. “You haven’t been showing us a lot of movies with war in them, but they’re apparently pretty common for humans?”
I give a nod. “Yes. We’ve always had a complex relationship with war and violence. You might’ve noticed that this movie took a very somber perspective, largely viewing the war as pointless. While it was a controversial conflict in the past, nowadays the common view of the US civil war is that it was a necessary conflict to end the evils of chattel slavery.”
Vilek is silent for a short bit. “So like Blondie, violence isn’t necessarily good, but sometimes it’s the least bad.”
“Oh, I like that. That’s clever.”
She wags her tail. “Alright, what’s next on the list?”
“Next… I do my exercises, before I get too tired. Can you girls help me get into the leg brace? Can’t walk at all without the damn thing.”
​
They help manhandle me into a standing position and latch the leg brace, and I can start my agonizingly slow and agonizingly agonizing journey around the bed and back again.
To keep my mind off of the pain, and because I can’t loudly curse my beloved lambchops out like I can my arch-nemesis Chasa, I try to talk instead. “S-So… I’ve been looking into… human universities… that’ll take both of you… and ideally… transfer your… credits…”
Vilek wags encouragingly, and helps support me on my slow journey. “That’s great! We can all head to Earth instead and I can become a human assess-no, therapist!”
Thiva sighs. “Honestly, I like the sound of that. I feel safer around humans than around Venlil at this point.”
“Great… I’ll let you know… once I hear back…” Shit that topic didn’t last long. Okay what else what else “How’s that… trial thing… coming along…?”
Thiva grumbles. “The Liberators plead guilty today… including Vansi, who was being tried as a member of the group.” She had survived, but Slavik’s plasma rifle had seared her arm off at the shoulder.
“No media’s being allowed in the courtroom, to ensure they don’t get an audience for their views. The sentence hasn’t come down yet but it looks like none of them are going to feel the free breeze again for as long as they live.”
“Can’t say… I feel bad…”
“It’s too good for them!”
“The state… shouldn’t get… to do worse… than imprison… fuck, I’m done, please help.” My leg gives out and I’m left to cling to the bed frame until the girls intervene.
They help me back onto the bed before Vilek speaks. “…Even someone like Kalsim?”
​
I nod, sweat covering my body in a thin sheen. I take a deep drink of water and wait a few moments before answering. “Yeah… Kalsim’s not a threat in a jail cell. The state has a monopoly on violence, and shouldn’t get to use it to kill people just because we’re upset at them.”
Thiva frowns. “What about justice, though? Don’t people deserve to see those that have hurt them get punished?”
I shake my head. “That’s not justice. See it like this… Why not eat him?”
The girls look disgusted. I press on. “See… If killing him as punishment is fine, then just beating him up has to be fine too. Right? That’s less bad than killing him. And torture, that’s still less bad than killing. And if killing is fine, how about killing him extra painfully like by setting him on fire? And at that point we might as well eat him. I mean, why not?”
Thiva protests. “Because… Because that’s barbaric! You humans don’t eat sapients, you all say so!”
I nod firmly. “Yeah, exactly. Because it is barbaric. State punishment is just barbarism, just sadism to make the worst part of us feel better. Once we agree that it’s acceptable to do that to anyone, all we’re doing is haggling over price. There was a human philosopher named Nietzsche. He said ‘Beware of those in whom the urge to punish is strong’, and I think that’s the sort of thing he meant. Not just to beware of people in power who seek out punishment for people they have power over, but… to beware that part of ourselves.”
The girls are silent for a moment. I take a slow drink of water and speak more, even though it’s really tiring by now. But this is important.
“Listen, Vilek… When you study to become a therapist, please keep something in mind. Predator Disease doesn’t exist. Not even Renak had Predator Disease.”
Vilek frowns confusedly and bursts out. “What?! But you said he was a ‘textbook psychopath’! You said he was a monster who didn’t feel empathy! You said so yourself!”
“Yes, I did. But in human society… the majority of people with that condition are not actually more dangerous than anyone else. Because they can be taught coping mechanisms, by therapists, to fit into society. Renak was a monster because Venlil society, and Vansi, failed him.”
Thiva protests. “But…”
I shake my head. “Nobody is born a monster. And even in cases where people are truly unsalvageable for whatever reason… what’s the point in punishing them for it? Thiva, I didn’t shoot your brother because he was a psychopath. I shot him to keep you safe. Slavik didn’t shoot your mother because she was an abuser, they shot her because she was about to set me on fire. If someone shot Kalsim at this point… how would that make anyone safer?”
I sigh and take another slow drink of water. “...Christ, I do not have the energy for this heavy stuff right now. Next film, girls, what’ll it be?”
They start bickering, apparently as happy to be distracted from the topic as I am. Every time it’s their turn to pick they end up fighting over it, you’d think they’d make a list ahead of time instead. “Flower-bird Red!” “Fainting for You!” “Garden in the Stars!” “Okay, yeah, that’s good. Remake or original?” “Original, obviously!” “But the remake-” “We can just show him both!” “Okay, deal!”
I don’t end up remembering a blessed thing about the film. With the girls cuddled up to me on the Mazic-size bed I’ve been given for use since they apparently lacked human-size ones, I fall asleep by the end of the opening credits.
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Date [standardized human time]: December 14th, 2136
​
“Hey human, you got visitors.” The nurse informs me. I glance at the clock on my pad, which I had set to count down to the lambchops’ daily visit. Still half a claw out.
Instead of my cherished friends, I see two other people step into the room. A Venlil, and Robert McGinley.
“…Hey Bob. You’ll forgive me if I don’t get up.” I jest from the hospital bed. McGinley doesn’t seem to find it amusing.
“Russo.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to show up, to be honest. Who’s your friend?”
“District Magister Vaska. Russo, we need you to sign-”
“Fuck off, McGinley.”
“If you don’t sign these documents, your refugee status can be rescinded.”
“No it can’t. Literally, there’s a list of reasons I can have my refugee status taken away, and ‘not signing hush documents’ isn’t on the list.”
McGinley gives me a tiny smile. On his blank face that might as well be an ear-to-ear grin. “But it can be if you’ve been charged with a crime in the host sovereignty.”
I nod. “Yeah, that is true. I don’t even need to be convicted.”
“So-”
“So I haven’t been charged with anything yet. And if I had to guess, I’m not going to be.”
McGinley scowls. Vaska scowls beside him too.
​
I continue. Talking is a bit tiring, but not as bad as it was just a few days ago. “Because if I’m charged with a crime, I’ll need to take the witness stand. And I can have ex-officer Jarkim take the stand. And you don’t want that. Because the raid on the Liberators’ compound here in Greenmeadow was ‘a heroic joint operation between the UN and the Exterminators’ office, approved by Governor Tarva herself’.”
Now Vaska speaks up. His voice is trembling with anger. “A stunt that you forced us to engage in! I had to call the governor on the emergency line to get approval for it! A UN military operation on sovereign Venlil soil!”
“I’m not going to apologize for making you do your fucking job.”
McGinley takes a step forward. I don’t bother to flinch back, since I can’t exactly run anywhere anyway. Instead I just look up at him passively and wait for him to say something. “It’s in your best interests to play nice, Russo.”
“Because that worked out so well for both of us last time. Remember ‘An inferno of incredible horror’? Pretty great article, really. ‘The Liberators Unveiled: Terror and death in Greenmeadow’ was killer too. Do you really want to go for a third, about what really happened to VP’s little homegrown terrorist cell that was literally funded with the salaries of the Exterminators in it?”
The ‘Liberators Unveiled’ article had run while I was comatose, revealing the full truth of the shelter arson and the identities of the Liberators involved. However, it had neither contradicted nor reaffirmed the official government narrative about the ‘joint operation’ that took the bastards down.
McGinley is practically snarling now, putting both hands on my hospital bed and making it shake a bit. I wince with pain, while he raises his voice for the first time in either of my meetings with the man. “You can’t be allowed to just run around doing whatever you want. There have to be consequences for your actions, Russo!”
I nod solemnly. “I agree. That’s what the law is for. So charge me with a crime, or fuck off.”
He shakes the bed slightly. There’s a few beeps from some of the machinery monitoring me and making sure I’m still alive. Vaska looks a bit taken aback. “You nearly ruined the whole investigation; you almost destabilized the relationship between humanity and the Venlil!”
I take a steadying breath. He’s being overly dramatic. “So charge me with a crime, or fuck off.”
McGinley snarls and slams a bundle of papers down on the bedside table. “I’m offering you a chance to change your mind.”
I glance at the papers, then lift them up with more effort than I’d like to admit and drop them directly into the waste bin.
I wave my hand, tired of this pointless farce. “No, seriously. Fuck off, McGinley. Magister, a word of advice. If you want my silence, try offering some hush money next time. Us humans are a lot more partial to bribes than to threats.”
They storm out.
Guess I won’t be going to jail. The rest of the posse will be fine too, then.
I lean back and sigh and try to take a nap. I don’t want to still be pissed off when the lambchops show up. I have something important to show them.
Some of the universities I’ve reached out to have answered back.
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[First] [Previous]

I adopted a sweet 1.5 year old recently. About a month into having him, he developed signs of conjunctivitis. The vet rx eye drops and I’ve only been able to get the drops in a few times. I’ve tried many ways to get them in, but I think they sting and so he tries really hard to get away. I tried to hold him, I spent a week trying to build trust and positive association to the dropper bottle, I tried keeping his leash and harness on to keep him from jumping… all of these worked a few times but then he would eventually start jumping around like a kangaroo to avoid me. I use lots of treats and rewards during or after the attempts and earn back his trust. His eyes have gotten a bit better from those few times I got drops in, but it’s not 100% better. Some background: he was raised by a family with kids before I adopted him. One of the kids was unfortunately allergic and they had to give him up. The rescue said he seemed very confused and sad, and I wonder if he has some trust issues as a result. I also wonder if I’m just thinking too “human” and just need to stop worrying so much about temporarily losing his trust.
I know that was alot. Does anyone have a similar experience? Or any advice? Thank you!

You will never be a real student. You have no goals, you have no future prospects, you have no motivation. You are a lazy neet twisted by society's expectations into a crude mockery of the perfect normie. All the "grades" you get are half-assed and cheated. Behind your back people mock you. Your teachers are disgusted and ashamed of you, your "friends" laugh at your F grades behind closed doors. The education system is utterly repulsed by you. Hundreds of years of research have allowed educators to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even students like you who "submit assignments" look dishonest and unnatural to a plagiarism checker. Your steam recent activity is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to somehow pass your midterms you will fall into false sense of security and fail your finals the moment you have to follow a proper study schedule. You will never graduate. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning on discord and tell your bros its going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush your GPA under the unbearable weight. Eventually it'll be too much to bear, you'll get into crypto, convince yourself a degree is worthless and drop out. Your ex-classmates will find your social media, heartbroken but relieved that they don't have to live with you asking them for notes, deadlines and help with cheating. They'll put you down as a dropout on the university records and every future employer for the rest of eternity will know a dropout is applying to their position. Your chances of a decent job and a comfortable life will disappear and go back to being dreams, and all that will remain of your legacy is a nameless man of wasted potential.

I’m a single mom newly dating someone, and everything is going really well. He recently hinted that he’d like to take me on a weekend trip sometime this summer, but we’re not ready for “family” vacations yet. I told him that based on the only baby book I’ve read (Bringing Up Bebe) that it would be perfectly fine for me to leave my three year old with family or close friends for the occasional vacation. And I mean it. I love my daughter, and I love taking trips with her. I hope someday we will be a family and we can do family vacations. But I also think I’ll always want to do at least a weekly child-free date night and a few trips without her. It helps me decompress and be a better mother, and I think it’s also healthy for her and healthy for a romantic relationship.
He seemed glad to hear that, since he’s very adventurous and she’s too young to do a lot of things he does on vacation (paragliding, kite surfing, scuba diving, etc). I’m definitely into that stuff too, as well as just having quiet evenings with a glass of wine and plenty of alone time.
Having said that, we both remembered that our parents never really did this. All trips were family trips. They rarely if ever had date nights (my parents are divorced, so that’s not to say they got everything right). I know date nights are more common in American society now (he’s British, so I’m not sure about things there) but what about date vacays?
What do you think?

I have a 6month old golden I got her just after my bernese passed away.
I'm feeling guilty because I don't have the same connection with her as I did him. He felt very human. As weird as it sounds it was almost like going home to a best friend/partner. Don't get me wrong I love her, and can't stand the idea of anything happening to her, but she just feels like a very good dog. There isn't that human feeling there