Barry plath first wife
The House on Jackson Street
2023.05.28 19:23 Johnwestrick The House on Jackson Street
The House on Jackson Street
By John WestrickI used to walk with her, now I walk alone. We used to marvel at the beautiful houses together, now I look down at my feet. Each home a grain of salt in the wound, each house a reminder of what I lost. Even though it hurts, I still find myself continuing our walks. Sometimes pain is good. I’d rather feel the pain of her passing, than not feel her at all.
She’s alive when I walk. She’s the shadow that strolls behind. Though I can’t see her, I can feel her. Her presence is like a windbreaker draped across my shoulders in an especially violent storm. The pain isn’t gone but it’s bearable when I’m moving. I can’t speak to her, but she’s there. When I trip over a root, a hand steadies me. When I veer off course, I feel a gentle nudge.
And every day I end up in front of the same house on Jackson Street.
A grand home, at least at one point it must’ve been. The windows are boarded closed. The door is locked. Beware trespasser signs are strewn haphazardly across the tangled mess of the once impressive lawn.
I feel her presence strongest here. It is almost tangible, as if she’s hiding behind a thin curtain. I call to her, yet she never answers. I reach for her, yet I can never lay hands on her. It is here on my journey where my emotions get the best of me. Every day I come, every day I cry.
The neighbors look at me with trepidation, but long gone are my days of caring what others think. I stand there an old man, face in my hands and weep for the woman I lost. Let them think what they want, but my Lenore was worth every tear.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and look up to see the front door of the house swung wide. Light is pouring out of it, and there she is, my Lenore. I rush towards her and the gaping maw, towards the woman I’ve lost. The woman who heard my cries and has returned for me.
As I barrel forward through the brambles and overgrown weeds, I hardly am aware of the scrapes and cuts. Nor does it bother me that I trip over a hidden bottle and go tumbling face first in the dirt. I sling myself forward with the stamina of a much younger man.
And then, I am there standing in touching distance from her. It’s her. She’s got the same strawberry blonde hair that always tended to leave me breathless. It’s wrapped in a French braid with a daisy tucked behind her left ear. She looks younger by nearly twenty years. Her nose and cheeks are dusted with a fine layer of freckles.
I began to giggle like a schoolboy as I remember I once tried to count them. Twenty-three is the highest I got before I found my mouth on hers. And suddenly I have an inappropriate urge to pull her close and continue the kiss in front of God and all the neighbors.
Shortly before I do just that, she vanishes, leaving me standing in the front door alone once more. I look around the hallway and notice it’s fully furnished. There is no dust or decay. The parlor is in perfect condition. Even more shockingly I hear someone playing the piano. It’s Fur Elise and I could recognize that sound anywhere. Lenore was playing it the day she died.
The Turkish rug leading down the hall looks familiar, the pattern of the wolf howling at the moon, the picture of the ship sailing in rough seas. I know it. I walk forward, no longer in control over my own body. Instead, everything begins to flash in front of me like a movie. I see my own hand reach for the gilded door knob. I know on the other side of this door is a set of stairs that leads to the great room.
Still, I don’t remember, I can’t remember. They threaten to come back, but I don’t let them. I don’t want to remember. I’m back. Oh God have mercy on me, I’m back to the day my wife died.
I come to this conclusion even as my own traitorous hand throws wide the hallway door. I fight for control. I do everything in my power to not see. My eyes fling wide and I look to see the back of my sweet Lenore’s head, the damned daisy still perched behind her ear. She’s playing and she doesn’t know I’ve arrived.
I know what is coming but I don’t want to. Yet those damned feet, those mutinous mother fuckers keep pushing me forward. First up one step then two, before I even know it, I’ve scaled half of them. Now I can see her back, she’s in a flowery dress with what looks to be hummingbirds sucking at the honey. Fur Elise is ramping up, and the song is nearing its climax.
And then I see it. Him to be precise. He’s lounging in my chair, drinking my whiskey, with his shirt partially unbuttoned. Rage, white hot fills me once more. I look to the left and then the right, and that’s when I see my cavalry saber hung on the wall for decoration.
I remember the outcome, yet I can’t force myself to let go of its hilt. My hand turns white from grasping it so hard. There’s nothing I can do to lessen my grip. I see myself marching up behind her sword held high in one hand.
Fur Elise climaxes as my arm swings. I strike her left shoulder blade and with a discordant whine the music stops altogether. Inwardly I scream. I curse my God’s damned temper. I watch as she slumps out of her chair.
Without a second glance, I am charging the man just beginning to look up from his comfortable spot in my seat. My blade penetrates his right abdomen, he lets out one shriek before my second swing catches him directly in the throat.
I am appalled at the blood spurting from his nearly decapitated neck. My hands are scarlet, I feel wet stickiness oozing down my face. Yet I can’t control my own limbs as they swing and swing and swing, chopping the man into kindling. I try to close my eyes but they won’t, so I see his hand go flying. I watch as his innards come bubbling out of his abdomen. I split his head like a grape and watch his brain matter leak out of the side of it.
To my dismay, I hear a gurgling sound coming from behind me. I turn knowing what I’ll see but powerless to stop it. I look to see my Lenore’s face towards me trying to speak. Blood bubbles drizzling out of the side of her mouth. I don’t need to hear the words to know what she is trying to say. “Please, no more.”
Pity fills my heart and my own eyes refuse to cry. “Please don’t do this,” I scream at myself in vain. I watch as I slowly move towards my former wife letting the blade carve a wicked groove into the marble floor. With no mercy my arm swings the blade up once then twice then three times, and all goes black.
Finally, I regain control of my limbs and body. I look up to see a vandalized great hall with a nasty groove in the marble floor, and there my chopped wife lying on the floor looking up at me with dead yet still very much alive eyes.
I see the monstrosity of my late wife clamber to her feet. Her left eye slides out of its socket running like egg yolk down her face. Black pustule blood leaks from her wounds. Her right eye locks with mine and in a slobbering wet noise she said, “I will never let you forget what you did here. Jail wasn’t enough for you. You didn’t stay your hand, so even in your Alzheimer’s I won't let you forget. Same time tomorrow, honey?”
2023.05.28 19:21 NightCities13 188 Years Later-Game 2-Reapings and Train
District 8
Towards the end of the first day of reapings, it was 4 in the evening. The youths of District 8 were lined up in their age enclosures as the victor of the previous Games, Horus Greenstaff (Game 1) was shown a tour of the factories. Horus seemed bored as he looked around, and cut the meeting short to start the reaping.
Horus wished the odds be in the favor of all of the youths, a first which became a tradition for many kindhearted victors. He then reached into the female bowl, and removed the name of sixteen year old Zara Hoffman. A scream was heard as a girl with golden ringlets of hair and blue eyes was taken to the stage. Zara was embraced by Horus, who apologized to her. Zara worked in a sweater factory part time.
Meanwhile Horus was forced to reach into the male bowl, and he read aloud the name of Avon Creeley. A portrait was shown on the screen as peacekeepers walked into fifteen year old enclosure, and grabbed a boy who had been hiding with his friends. Avon had ebony skin and combed back dark hair, and he nervously shook Horus’s hand, who stared at the young boy in amusement. Avon worked in a belt factory forty hours a week.
Zara was visited by her elder brother Anthem, his wife, and their three children. Zara sadly clung to her elder brother’s shirt, and he tearfully told her that he loved her. He kissed her forehead before she was taken to the train.
Avon was visited by his elder sister, Crochetta, her husband, and their two sons. Avon told them both that he loved them, and promised to try and make them proud, before being taken to the train.
Zara and Avon walked onto the train, and saw a blonde woman sitting on a chair. She motioned the two of them over, and introduced herself as 28 year old Coutura Bell. She was a fashion designer who had learned fighting techniques, and she taught the two how to throw knives.
She seemed happy with both of them, and also taught them proper Capitol etiquette. When the train arrived at Snow Station, the two bowed and were polite.
The next morning, Coutura started on their outfits, cute pink and purple patchwork outfits with ruffles. She then turned on the television to District 4’s reaping, claiming that District 4 always performed well.
District 4
Horus quite enjoyed the tour of the beach, and was refreshed by the time he arrived for District 4’s reaping at noon. He reached into the female bowl, and removed the name of sixteen year old Oceanette West. A girl with ginger hair and blue eyes was taken to the stage, tears streaming down her face. Horus embraced her, before turning to the male bowl. Oceanette attended school, while her parents were fishermen.
Horus reached into the male bowl, removing the name of fifteen year old Steward Croft. A shorter boy with brown hair and blue eyes walked to the stage, and shook Horus’s hand. Steward did not seem to be upset, and simply smiled politely at Horus, who seemed impressed with the calmness that Steward had. Steward was in school, and also worked in a fish oil factory part time on the weekends.
Oceanette was visited by her parents, and younger sister Marinella. She hugged both of them, and promised to try and return.
Steward was visited by his parents and younger brother Finnos. He told them that he had a plan in how to win, and hugged his family. He was then taken to the train.
Upon entering the train, Oceanette and Steward met their mentor, a 40 year old former wrestler named Octopius Wilkinson. Kraken asked his tributes to show him how they used a trident, and gave them both corrections. He then taught them about various poisonous plants and fruits, and then how to stitch up a wound.
When they arrived at Snow Station, both tributes followed their mentor through the crowd, and posed for some pictures along the way.
When they arrived back at the apartment, they met their stylist, Hector Gaul. He chose to dress them in outfits that had bubbles on it, that were filled with water. The outfits were a bit heavy, but Steward and Oceanette managed it well.
submitted by NightCities13 to christianblanco [link] [comments]
Towards the end of the first day of reapings, it was 4 in the evening. The youths of District 8 were lined up in their age enclosures as the victor of the previous Games, Horus Greenstaff (Game 1) was shown a tour of the factories. Horus seemed bored as he looked around, and cut the meeting short to start the reaping.
Horus wished the odds be in the favor of all of the youths, a first which became a tradition for many kindhearted victors. He then reached into the female bowl, and removed the name of sixteen year old Zara Hoffman. A scream was heard as a girl with golden ringlets of hair and blue eyes was taken to the stage. Zara was embraced by Horus, who apologized to her. Zara worked in a sweater factory part time.
Meanwhile Horus was forced to reach into the male bowl, and he read aloud the name of Avon Creeley. A portrait was shown on the screen as peacekeepers walked into fifteen year old enclosure, and grabbed a boy who had been hiding with his friends. Avon had ebony skin and combed back dark hair, and he nervously shook Horus’s hand, who stared at the young boy in amusement. Avon worked in a belt factory forty hours a week.
Zara was visited by her elder brother Anthem, his wife, and their three children. Zara sadly clung to her elder brother’s shirt, and he tearfully told her that he loved her. He kissed her forehead before she was taken to the train.
Avon was visited by his elder sister, Crochetta, her husband, and their two sons. Avon told them both that he loved them, and promised to try and make them proud, before being taken to the train.
Zara and Avon walked onto the train, and saw a blonde woman sitting on a chair. She motioned the two of them over, and introduced herself as 28 year old Coutura Bell. She was a fashion designer who had learned fighting techniques, and she taught the two how to throw knives.
She seemed happy with both of them, and also taught them proper Capitol etiquette. When the train arrived at Snow Station, the two bowed and were polite.
The next morning, Coutura started on their outfits, cute pink and purple patchwork outfits with ruffles. She then turned on the television to District 4’s reaping, claiming that District 4 always performed well.
District 4
Horus quite enjoyed the tour of the beach, and was refreshed by the time he arrived for District 4’s reaping at noon. He reached into the female bowl, and removed the name of sixteen year old Oceanette West. A girl with ginger hair and blue eyes was taken to the stage, tears streaming down her face. Horus embraced her, before turning to the male bowl. Oceanette attended school, while her parents were fishermen.
Horus reached into the male bowl, removing the name of fifteen year old Steward Croft. A shorter boy with brown hair and blue eyes walked to the stage, and shook Horus’s hand. Steward did not seem to be upset, and simply smiled politely at Horus, who seemed impressed with the calmness that Steward had. Steward was in school, and also worked in a fish oil factory part time on the weekends.
Oceanette was visited by her parents, and younger sister Marinella. She hugged both of them, and promised to try and return.
Steward was visited by his parents and younger brother Finnos. He told them that he had a plan in how to win, and hugged his family. He was then taken to the train.
Upon entering the train, Oceanette and Steward met their mentor, a 40 year old former wrestler named Octopius Wilkinson. Kraken asked his tributes to show him how they used a trident, and gave them both corrections. He then taught them about various poisonous plants and fruits, and then how to stitch up a wound.
When they arrived at Snow Station, both tributes followed their mentor through the crowd, and posed for some pictures along the way.
When they arrived back at the apartment, they met their stylist, Hector Gaul. He chose to dress them in outfits that had bubbles on it, that were filled with water. The outfits were a bit heavy, but Steward and Oceanette managed it well.
2023.05.28 19:21 Johnwestrick The House on Jackson Street
I used to walk with her, now I walk alone. We used to marvel at the beautiful houses together, now I look down at my feet. Each home a grain of salt in the wound, each house a reminder of what I lost. Even though it hurts, I still find myself continuing our walks. Sometimes pain is good. I’d rather feel the pain of her passing, than not feel her at all. She’s alive when I walk. She’s the shadow that strolls behind. Though I can’t see her, I can feel her. Her presence is like a windbreaker draped across my shoulders in an especially violent storm. The pain isn’t gone but it’s bearable when I’m moving. I can’t speak to her, but she’s there. When I trip over a root, a hand steadies me. When I veer off course, I feel a gentle nudge. And every day I end up in front of the same house on Jackson Street. A grand home, at least at one point it must’ve been. The windows are boarded closed. The door is locked. Beware trespasser signs are strewn haphazardly across the tangled mess of the once impressive lawn. I feel her presence strongest here. It is almost tangible, as if she’s hiding behind a thin curtain. I call to her, yet she never answers. I reach for her, yet I can never lay hands on her. It is here on my journey where my emotions get the best of me. Every day I come, every day I cry. The neighbors look at me with trepidation, but long gone are my days of caring what others think. I stand there an old man, face in my hands and weep for the woman I lost. Let them think what they want, but my Lenore was worth every tear. I feel a tap on my shoulder, and look up to see the front door of the house swung wide. Light is pouring out of it, and there she is, my Lenore. I rush towards her and the gaping maw, towards the woman I’ve lost. The woman who heard my cries and has returned for me. As I barrel forward through the brambles and overgrown weeds, I hardly am aware of the scrapes and cuts. Nor does it bother me that I trip over a hidden bottle and go tumbling face first in the dirt. I sling myself forward with the stamina of a much younger man. And then, I am there standing in touching distance from her. It’s her. She’s got the same strawberry blonde hair that always tended to leave me breathless. It’s wrapped in a French braid with a daisy tucked behind her left ear. She looks younger by nearly twenty years. Her nose and cheeks are dusted with a fine layer of freckles. I began to giggle like a schoolboy as I remember I once tried to count them. Twenty-three is the highest I got before I found my mouth on hers. And suddenly I have an inappropriate urge to pull her close and continue the kiss in front of God and all the neighbors. Shortly before I do just that, she vanishes, leaving me standing in the front door alone once more. I look around the hallway and notice it’s fully furnished. There is no dust or decay. The parlor is in perfect condition. Even more shockingly I hear someone playing the piano. It’s Fur Elise and I could recognize that sound anywhere. Lenore was playing it the day she died. The Turkish rug leading down the hall looks familiar, the pattern of the wolf howling at the moon, the picture of the ship sailing in rough seas. I know it. I walk forward, no longer in control over my own body. Instead, everything begins to flash in front of me like a movie. I see my own hand reach for the gilded door knob. I know on the other side of this door is a set of stairs that leads to the great room. Still, I don’t remember, I can’t remember. They threaten to come back, but I don’t let them. I don’t want to remember. I’m back. Oh God have mercy on me, I’m back to the day my wife died. I come to this conclusion even as my own traitorous hand throws wide the hallway door. I fight for control. I do everything in my power to not see. My eyes fling wide and I look to see the back of my sweet Lenore’s head, the damned daisy still perched behind her ear. She’s playing and she doesn’t know I’ve arrived. I know what is coming but I don’t want to. Yet those damned feet, those mutinous mother fuckers keep pushing me forward. First up one step then two, before I even know it, I’ve scaled half of them. Now I can see her back, she’s in a flowery dress with what looks to be hummingbirds sucking at the honey. Fur Elise is ramping up, and the song is nearing its climax. And then I see it. Him to be precise. He’s lounging in my chair, drinking my whiskey, with his shirt partially unbuttoned. Rage, white hot fills me once more. I look to the left and then the right, and that’s when I see my cavalry saber hung on the wall for decoration. I remember the outcome, yet I can’t force myself to let go of its hilt. My hand turns white from grasping it so hard. There’s nothing I can do to lessen my grip. I see myself marching up behind her sword held high in one hand. Fur Elise climaxes as my arm swings. I strike her left shoulder blade and with a discordant whine the music stops altogether. Inwardly I scream. I curse my God’s damned temper. I watch as she slumps out of her chair. Without a second glance, I am charging the man just beginning to look up from his comfortable spot in my seat. My blade penetrates his right abdomen, he lets out one shriek before my second swing catches him directly in the throat. I am appalled at the blood spurting from his nearly decapitated neck. My hands are scarlet, I feel wet stickiness oozing down my face. Yet I can’t control my own limbs as they swing and swing and swing, chopping the man into kindling. I try to close my eyes but they won’t, so I see his hand go flying. I watch as his innards come bubbling out of his abdomen. I split his head like a grape and watch his brain matter leak out of the side of it. To my dismay, I hear a gurgling sound coming from behind me. I turn knowing what I’ll see but powerless to stop it. I look to see my Lenore’s face towards me trying to speak. Blood bubbles drizzling out of the side of her mouth. I don’t need to hear the words to know what she is trying to say. “Please, no more.” Pity fills my heart and my own eyes refuse to cry. “Please don’t do this,” I scream at myself in vain. I watch as I slowly move towards my former wife letting the blade carve a wicked groove into the marble floor. With no mercy my arm swings the blade up once then twice then three times, and all goes black. Finally, I regain control of my limbs and body. I look up to see a vandalized great hall with a nasty groove in the marble floor, and there my chopped wife lying on the floor looking up at me with dead yet still very much alive eyes. I see the monstrosity of my late wife clamber to her feet. Her left eye slides out of its socket running like egg yolk down her face. Black pustule blood leaks from her wounds. Her right eye locks with mine and in a slobbering wet noise she said, “I will never let you forget what you did here. Jail wasn’t enough for you. You didn’t stay your hand, so even in your Alzheimer’s I won't let you forget. Same time tomorrow, honey?”
submitted by Johnwestrick to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]
2023.05.28 19:20 Johnwestrick The House on Jackson Street
The House on Jackson Street
By John WestrickI used to walk with her, now I walk alone. We used to marvel at the beautiful houses together, now I look down at my feet. Each home a grain of salt in the wound, each house a reminder of what I lost. Even though it hurts, I still find myself continuing our walks. Sometimes pain is good. I’d rather feel the pain of her passing, than not feel her at all.
She’s alive when I walk. She’s the shadow that strolls behind. Though I can’t see her, I can feel her. Her presence is like a windbreaker draped across my shoulders in an especially violent storm. The pain isn’t gone but it’s bearable when I’m moving. I can’t speak to her, but she’s there. When I trip over a root, a hand steadies me. When I veer off course, I feel a gentle nudge.
And every day I end up in front of the same house on Jackson Street.
A grand home, at least at one point it must’ve been. The windows are boarded closed. The door is locked. Beware trespasser signs are strewn haphazardly across the tangled mess of the once impressive lawn.
I feel her presence strongest here. It is almost tangible, as if she’s hiding behind a thin curtain. I call to her, yet she never answers. I reach for her, yet I can never lay hands on her. It is here on my journey where my emotions get the best of me. Every day I come, every day I cry.
The neighbors look at me with trepidation, but long gone are my days of caring what others think. I stand there an old man, face in my hands and weep for the woman I lost. Let them think what they want, but my Lenore was worth every tear.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and look up to see the front door of the house swung wide. Light is pouring out of it, and there she is, my Lenore. I rush towards her and the gaping maw, towards the woman I’ve lost. The woman who heard my cries and has returned for me.
As I barrel forward through the brambles and overgrown weeds, I hardly am aware of the scrapes and cuts. Nor does it bother me that I trip over a hidden bottle and go tumbling face first in the dirt. I sling myself forward with the stamina of a much younger man.
And then, I am there standing in touching distance from her. It’s her. She’s got the same strawberry blonde hair that always tended to leave me breathless. It’s wrapped in a French braid with a daisy tucked behind her left ear. She looks younger by nearly twenty years. Her nose and cheeks are dusted with a fine layer of freckles.
I began to giggle like a schoolboy as I remember I once tried to count them. Twenty-three is the highest I got before I found my mouth on hers. And suddenly I have an inappropriate urge to pull her close and continue the kiss in front of God and all the neighbors.
Shortly before I do just that, she vanishes, leaving me standing in the front door alone once more. I look around the hallway and notice it’s fully furnished. There is no dust or decay. The parlor is in perfect condition. Even more shockingly I hear someone playing the piano. It’s Fur Elise and I could recognize that sound anywhere. Lenore was playing it the day she died.
The Turkish rug leading down the hall looks familiar, the pattern of the wolf howling at the moon, the picture of the ship sailing in rough seas. I know it. I walk forward, no longer in control over my own body. Instead, everything begins to flash in front of me like a movie. I see my own hand reach for the gilded door knob. I know on the other side of this door is a set of stairs that leads to the great room.
Still, I don’t remember, I can’t remember. They threaten to come back, but I don’t let them. I don’t want to remember. I’m back. Oh God have mercy on me, I’m back to the day my wife died.
I come to this conclusion even as my own traitorous hand throws wide the hallway door. I fight for control. I do everything in my power to not see. My eyes fling wide and I look to see the back of my sweet Lenore’s head, the damned daisy still perched behind her ear. She’s playing and she doesn’t know I’ve arrived.
I know what is coming but I don’t want to. Yet those damned feet, those mutinous mother fuckers keep pushing me forward. First up one step then two, before I even know it, I’ve scaled half of them. Now I can see her back, she’s in a flowery dress with what looks to be hummingbirds sucking at the honey. Fur Elise is ramping up, and the song is nearing its climax.
And then I see it. Him to be precise. He’s lounging in my chair, drinking my whiskey, with his shirt partially unbuttoned. Rage, white hot fills me once more. I look to the left and then the right, and that’s when I see my cavalry saber hung on the wall for decoration.
I remember the outcome, yet I can’t force myself to let go of its hilt. My hand turns white from grasping it so hard. There’s nothing I can do to lessen my grip. I see myself marching up behind her sword held high in one hand.
Fur Elise climaxes as my arm swings. I strike her left shoulder blade and with a discordant whine the music stops altogether. Inwardly I scream. I curse my God’s damned temper. I watch as she slumps out of her chair.
Without a second glance, I am charging the man just beginning to look up from his comfortable spot in my seat. My blade penetrates his right abdomen, he lets out one shriek before my second swing catches him directly in the throat.
I am appalled at the blood spurting from his nearly decapitated neck. My hands are scarlet, I feel wet stickiness oozing down my face. Yet I can’t control my own limbs as they swing and swing and swing, chopping the man into kindling. I try to close my eyes but they won’t, so I see his hand go flying. I watch as his innards come bubbling out of his abdomen. I split his head like a grape and watch his brain matter leak out of the side of it.
To my dismay, I hear a gurgling sound coming from behind me. I turn knowing what I’ll see but powerless to stop it. I look to see my Lenore’s face towards me trying to speak. Blood bubbles drizzling out of the side of her mouth. I don’t need to hear the words to know what she is trying to say. “Please, no more.”
Pity fills my heart and my own eyes refuse to cry. “Please don’t do this,” I scream at myself in vain. I watch as I slowly move towards my former wife letting the blade carve a wicked groove into the marble floor. With no mercy my arm swings the blade up once then twice then three times, and all goes black.
Finally, I regain control of my limbs and body. I look up to see a vandalized great hall with a nasty groove in the marble floor, and there my chopped wife lying on the floor looking up at me with dead yet still very much alive eyes.
I see the monstrosity of my late wife clamber to her feet. Her left eye slides out of its socket running like egg yolk down her face. Black pustule blood leaks from her wounds. Her right eye locks with mine and in a slobbering wet noise she said, “I will never let you forget what you did here. Jail wasn’t enough for you. You didn’t stay your hand, so even in your Alzheimer’s I won't let you forget. Same time tomorrow, honey?”
2023.05.28 19:20 ShineFamiliar3741 turn the Page my recovery from abuse and inheritance theft
A lot happened before my father passed my sisters both demanded accounts and signed on the way they owned our father and her to the lot of large amount of money before he retired one sister had full control to put one account and because her husband had knowledge of how to control people with these accounts and how to sign them to where you own them and could walk away with all that one dollar unless my dad wanted to press charges felony and he did not he lived with that for several years the thing was my brother-in-law demanded I didn't no help and no cash from my father who bought me a vehicle and he also demanded who bought from him so he could have his own cash that started a bad thing but on the other note my other sister and brother planned a long time ago to steal all on the end and one sister her whole name go in life was to still everything in the end to work as a librarian in order to mingle with authorities with a plan of cutting me out because mother made her hate me when we were children she told her she was a real oldest daughter I was adopted by my father in the state of Missouri because I had no father my mother was abusive to me and she got her words she cut me out she got threw me out of the family they had me abused I had a death threat at one time when my memories came back I have an appointment to talk to a trusted her recovery attorney next week but it's well down to now it's a dirty stuff but they're still a very large amount of money missing that was too preachers one being a bad lawyer who was elected to prosecutor because of his name the state of Missouri couldn't help me with that because he was elected. There's no protection for heirs even though there's laws in Missouri. And when did in-laws with hating their heart and greed they come errors assets were never reported I never got anything from my dad as far as I had property stored there I finally got my camper but it cost me a lot my brother forced me to sign titles and soon tops and my sister would use them on something I told her it would be fraud because they couldn't Court can tell immediately that the paper was added to after the signature landlords can't get away with that anymore unless the person can't take them to court then they do cuz it happened to me before my thoughts are I was abused my life was certain all this Northwest Missouri it's very corrupt a bank account was moved when I was dying in another state and the prosecutor won't even let me look because it's been a few years back I need prosecutor the bank was concerned like there was a criminal and that prosecutor said get a lawyer well that's all I was told by a person well when they have more money and they've used pictures to launder money they use the prosecutor to get their way to not probate a larger state and they turn their back on me that goes to me like I am a disease because I know what they did my life was in dangerous I still don't feel safe I'm in this town I'm working on getting away from here so I can take care of the rest of this but my children didn't deserve to be cut out my father did not do this they did what they wanted for very large amount of money who got a very large attack right before he died and then I don't know who got the money I'm not money doesn't drive me but the fact that they did what they did has me irritated because my children did not deserve this my brother was supposed to probate and help me get all this done so my sister's got their way so far but my mother was in the background she was the first ex-wife and he was single but my one sister control freak controlled dad never move after his last divorce and he couldn't trust her she stole tooth imagine that grave sold them a year later without telling him to make banked on that but she did that because my other sister would find onto his largest inheritance account and controlling him with it he didn't press start his own either one but he did turn him in before he died after he got that last check he was bullied that's why they wanted my memory is gone I hired somebody to come into my life I found Love with a narcissist who was there for hire St Joe Missouri is very corrupt Andrew county was where the prosecutor fake probate attorney was they're still a fake casing at the judge refused to move it off but my brother is no longer represented who paid it to get it stopped to get those two titles back my father bought way more local than that my brother and said he was doing his own probate he bullied me to sign in 15 titles two were property I can't find out where those went except for I know they were laundered through his church his Titan picture who greedy preacher but also was involved and getting money off the top that's I'm in the assets it's all a mess it's a very big mess I'm talking to Tony next week another one thing is only have one chance that they got more money than they're counting you know I they laundered money they did it's on public 300 vehicles cars and trucks at dad bought for probate my brother promised to do with me that sisters pays him to do with that program that month is already had the prosecuting attorney as a lawyer he's not even a probate lawyer and now he's not a prosecutor attorney who knows he did wrong he's also a preacher but he's one of those tithing pictures like the other one putting printers lying their own pockets with other people's money they don't give it to the floor they're legal things in my eyes but I'm opinionated
submitted by ShineFamiliar3741 to Lizzys [link] [comments]
2023.05.28 19:20 Johnwestrick The House on Jackson Street
The House on Jackson Street
By John WestrickI used to walk with her, now I walk alone. We used to marvel at the beautiful houses together, now I look down at my feet. Each home a grain of salt in the wound, each house a reminder of what I lost. Even though it hurts, I still find myself continuing our walks. Sometimes pain is good. I’d rather feel the pain of her passing, than not feel her at all.
She’s alive when I walk. She’s the shadow that strolls behind. Though I can’t see her, I can feel her. Her presence is like a windbreaker draped across my shoulders in an especially violent storm. The pain isn’t gone but it’s bearable when I’m moving. I can’t speak to her, but she’s there. When I trip over a root, a hand steadies me. When I veer off course, I feel a gentle nudge.
And every day I end up in front of the same house on Jackson Street.
A grand home, at least at one point it must’ve been. The windows are boarded closed. The door is locked. Beware trespasser signs are strewn haphazardly across the tangled mess of the once impressive lawn.
I feel her presence strongest here. It is almost tangible, as if she’s hiding behind a thin curtain. I call to her, yet she never answers. I reach for her, yet I can never lay hands on her. It is here on my journey where my emotions get the best of me. Every day I come, every day I cry.
The neighbors look at me with trepidation, but long gone are my days of caring what others think. I stand there an old man, face in my hands and weep for the woman I lost. Let them think what they want, but my Lenore was worth every tear.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and look up to see the front door of the house swung wide. Light is pouring out of it, and there she is, my Lenore. I rush towards her and the gaping maw, towards the woman I’ve lost. The woman who heard my cries and has returned for me.
As I barrel forward through the brambles and overgrown weeds, I hardly am aware of the scrapes and cuts. Nor does it bother me that I trip over a hidden bottle and go tumbling face first in the dirt. I sling myself forward with the stamina of a much younger man.
And then, I am there standing in touching distance from her. It’s her. She’s got the same strawberry blonde hair that always tended to leave me breathless. It’s wrapped in a French braid with a daisy tucked behind her left ear. She looks younger by nearly twenty years. Her nose and cheeks are dusted with a fine layer of freckles.
I began to giggle like a schoolboy as I remember I once tried to count them. Twenty-three is the highest I got before I found my mouth on hers. And suddenly I have an inappropriate urge to pull her close and continue the kiss in front of God and all the neighbors.
Shortly before I do just that, she vanishes, leaving me standing in the front door alone once more. I look around the hallway and notice it’s fully furnished. There is no dust or decay. The parlor is in perfect condition. Even more shockingly I hear someone playing the piano. It’s Fur Elise and I could recognize that sound anywhere. Lenore was playing it the day she died.
The Turkish rug leading down the hall looks familiar, the pattern of the wolf howling at the moon, the picture of the ship sailing in rough seas. I know it. I walk forward, no longer in control over my own body. Instead, everything begins to flash in front of me like a movie. I see my own hand reach for the gilded door knob. I know on the other side of this door is a set of stairs that leads to the great room.
Still, I don’t remember, I can’t remember. They threaten to come back, but I don’t let them. I don’t want to remember. I’m back. Oh God have mercy on me, I’m back to the day my wife died.
I come to this conclusion even as my own traitorous hand throws wide the hallway door. I fight for control. I do everything in my power to not see. My eyes fling wide and I look to see the back of my sweet Lenore’s head, the damned daisy still perched behind her ear. She’s playing and she doesn’t know I’ve arrived.
I know what is coming but I don’t want to. Yet those damned feet, those mutinous mother fuckers keep pushing me forward. First up one step then two, before I even know it, I’ve scaled half of them. Now I can see her back, she’s in a flowery dress with what looks to be hummingbirds sucking at the honey. Fur Elise is ramping up, and the song is nearing its climax.
And then I see it. Him to be precise. He’s lounging in my chair, drinking my whiskey, with his shirt partially unbuttoned. Rage, white hot fills me once more. I look to the left and then the right, and that’s when I see my cavalry saber hung on the wall for decoration.
I remember the outcome, yet I can’t force myself to let go of its hilt. My hand turns white from grasping it so hard. There’s nothing I can do to lessen my grip. I see myself marching up behind her sword held high in one hand.
Fur Elise climaxes as my arm swings. I strike her left shoulder blade and with a discordant whine the music stops altogether. Inwardly I scream. I curse my God’s damned temper. I watch as she slumps out of her chair.
Without a second glance, I am charging the man just beginning to look up from his comfortable spot in my seat. My blade penetrates his right abdomen, he lets out one shriek before my second swing catches him directly in the throat.
I am appalled at the blood spurting from his nearly decapitated neck. My hands are scarlet, I feel wet stickiness oozing down my face. Yet I can’t control my own limbs as they swing and swing and swing, chopping the man into kindling. I try to close my eyes but they won’t, so I see his hand go flying. I watch as his innards come bubbling out of his abdomen. I split his head like a grape and watch his brain matter leak out of the side of it.
To my dismay, I hear a gurgling sound coming from behind me. I turn knowing what I’ll see but powerless to stop it. I look to see my Lenore’s face towards me trying to speak. Blood bubbles drizzling out of the side of her mouth. I don’t need to hear the words to know what she is trying to say. “Please, no more.”
Pity fills my heart and my own eyes refuse to cry. “Please don’t do this,” I scream at myself in vain. I watch as I slowly move towards my former wife letting the blade carve a wicked groove into the marble floor. With no mercy my arm swings the blade up once then twice then three times, and all goes black.
Finally, I regain control of my limbs and body. I look up to see a vandalized great hall with a nasty groove in the marble floor, and there my chopped wife lying on the floor looking up at me with dead yet still very much alive eyes.
I see the monstrosity of my late wife clamber to her feet. Her left eye slides out of its socket running like egg yolk down her face. Black pustule blood leaks from her wounds. Her right eye locks with mine and in a slobbering wet noise she said, “I will never let you forget what you did here. Jail wasn’t enough for you. You didn’t stay your hand, so even in your Alzheimer’s I won't let you forget. Same time tomorrow, honey?”
2023.05.28 19:19 Johnwestrick The House on Jackson Street
The House on Jackson Street
By John WestrickI used to walk with her, now I walk alone. We used to marvel at the beautiful houses together, now I look down at my feet. Each home a grain of salt in the wound, each house a reminder of what I lost. Even though it hurts, I still find myself continuing our walks. Sometimes pain is good. I’d rather feel the pain of her passing, than not feel her at all.
She’s alive when I walk. She’s the shadow that strolls behind. Though I can’t see her, I can feel her. Her presence is like a windbreaker draped across my shoulders in an especially violent storm. The pain isn’t gone but it’s bearable when I’m moving. I can’t speak to her, but she’s there. When I trip over a root, a hand steadies me. When I veer off course, I feel a gentle nudge.
And every day I end up in front of the same house on Jackson Street.
A grand home, at least at one point it must’ve been. The windows are boarded closed. The door is locked. Beware trespasser signs are strewn haphazardly across the tangled mess of the once impressive lawn.
I feel her presence strongest here. It is almost tangible, as if she’s hiding behind a thin curtain. I call to her, yet she never answers. I reach for her, yet I can never lay hands on her. It is here on my journey where my emotions get the best of me. Every day I come, every day I cry.
The neighbors look at me with trepidation, but long gone are my days of caring what others think. I stand there an old man, face in my hands and weep for the woman I lost. Let them think what they want, but my Lenore was worth every tear.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and look up to see the front door of the house swung wide. Light is pouring out of it, and there she is, my Lenore. I rush towards her and the gaping maw, towards the woman I’ve lost. The woman who heard my cries and has returned for me.
As I barrel forward through the brambles and overgrown weeds, I hardly am aware of the scrapes and cuts. Nor does it bother me that I trip over a hidden bottle and go tumbling face first in the dirt. I sling myself forward with the stamina of a much younger man.
And then, I am there standing in touching distance from her. It’s her. She’s got the same strawberry blonde hair that always tended to leave me breathless. It’s wrapped in a French braid with a daisy tucked behind her left ear. She looks younger by nearly twenty years. Her nose and cheeks are dusted with a fine layer of freckles.
I began to giggle like a schoolboy as I remember I once tried to count them. Twenty-three is the highest I got before I found my mouth on hers. And suddenly I have an inappropriate urge to pull her close and continue the kiss in front of God and all the neighbors.
Shortly before I do just that, she vanishes, leaving me standing in the front door alone once more. I look around the hallway and notice it’s fully furnished. There is no dust or decay. The parlor is in perfect condition. Even more shockingly I hear someone playing the piano. It’s Fur Elise and I could recognize that sound anywhere. Lenore was playing it the day she died.
The Turkish rug leading down the hall looks familiar, the pattern of the wolf howling at the moon, the picture of the ship sailing in rough seas. I know it. I walk forward, no longer in control over my own body. Instead, everything begins to flash in front of me like a movie. I see my own hand reach for the gilded door knob. I know on the other side of this door is a set of stairs that leads to the great room.
Still, I don’t remember, I can’t remember. They threaten to come back, but I don’t let them. I don’t want to remember. I’m back. Oh God have mercy on me, I’m back to the day my wife died.
I come to this conclusion even as my own traitorous hand throws wide the hallway door. I fight for control. I do everything in my power to not see. My eyes fling wide and I look to see the back of my sweet Lenore’s head, the damned daisy still perched behind her ear. She’s playing and she doesn’t know I’ve arrived.
I know what is coming but I don’t want to. Yet those damned feet, those mutinous mother fuckers keep pushing me forward. First up one step then two, before I even know it, I’ve scaled half of them. Now I can see her back, she’s in a flowery dress with what looks to be hummingbirds sucking at the honey. Fur Elise is ramping up, and the song is nearing its climax.
And then I see it. Him to be precise. He’s lounging in my chair, drinking my whiskey, with his shirt partially unbuttoned. Rage, white hot fills me once more. I look to the left and then the right, and that’s when I see my cavalry saber hung on the wall for decoration.
I remember the outcome, yet I can’t force myself to let go of its hilt. My hand turns white from grasping it so hard. There’s nothing I can do to lessen my grip. I see myself marching up behind her sword held high in one hand.
Fur Elise climaxes as my arm swings. I strike her left shoulder blade and with a discordant whine the music stops altogether. Inwardly I scream. I curse my God’s damned temper. I watch as she slumps out of her chair.
Without a second glance, I am charging the man just beginning to look up from his comfortable spot in my seat. My blade penetrates his right abdomen, he lets out one shriek before my second swing catches him directly in the throat.
I am appalled at the blood spurting from his nearly decapitated neck. My hands are scarlet, I feel wet stickiness oozing down my face. Yet I can’t control my own limbs as they swing and swing and swing, chopping the man into kindling. I try to close my eyes but they won’t, so I see his hand go flying. I watch as his innards come bubbling out of his abdomen. I split his head like a grape and watch his brain matter leak out of the side of it.
To my dismay, I hear a gurgling sound coming from behind me. I turn knowing what I’ll see but powerless to stop it. I look to see my Lenore’s face towards me trying to speak. Blood bubbles drizzling out of the side of her mouth. I don’t need to hear the words to know what she is trying to say. “Please, no more.”
Pity fills my heart and my own eyes refuse to cry. “Please don’t do this,” I scream at myself in vain. I watch as I slowly move towards my former wife letting the blade carve a wicked groove into the marble floor. With no mercy my arm swings the blade up once then twice then three times, and all goes black.
Finally, I regain control of my limbs and body. I look up to see a vandalized great hall with a nasty groove in the marble floor, and there my chopped wife lying on the floor looking up at me with dead yet still very much alive eyes.
I see the monstrosity of my late wife clamber to her feet. Her left eye slides out of its socket running like egg yolk down her face. Black pustule blood leaks from her wounds. Her right eye locks with mine and in a slobbering wet noise she said, “I will never let you forget what you did here. Jail wasn’t enough for you. You didn’t stay your hand, so even in your Alzheimer’s I won't let you forget. Same time tomorrow, honey?”
2023.05.28 19:18 Johnwestrick The House on Jackson Street
The House on Jackson Street
By John WestrickI used to walk with her, now I walk alone. We used to marvel at the beautiful houses together, now I look down at my feet. Each home a grain of salt in the wound, each house a reminder of what I lost. Even though it hurts, I still find myself continuing our walks. Sometimes pain is good. I’d rather feel the pain of her passing, than not feel her at all.
She’s alive when I walk. She’s the shadow that strolls behind. Though I can’t see her, I can feel her. Her presence is like a windbreaker draped across my shoulders in an especially violent storm. The pain isn’t gone but it’s bearable when I’m moving. I can’t speak to her, but she’s there. When I trip over a root, a hand steadies me. When I veer off course, I feel a gentle nudge.
And every day I end up in front of the same house on Jackson Street.
A grand home, at least at one point it must’ve been. The windows are boarded closed. The door is locked. Beware trespasser signs are strewn haphazardly across the tangled mess of the once impressive lawn.
I feel her presence strongest here. It is almost tangible, as if she’s hiding behind a thin curtain. I call to her, yet she never answers. I reach for her, yet I can never lay hands on her. It is here on my journey where my emotions get the best of me. Every day I come, every day I cry.
The neighbors look at me with trepidation, but long gone are my days of caring what others think. I stand there an old man, face in my hands and weep for the woman I lost. Let them think what they want, but my Lenore was worth every tear.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and look up to see the front door of the house swung wide. Light is pouring out of it, and there she is, my Lenore. I rush towards her and the gaping maw, towards the woman I’ve lost. The woman who heard my cries and has returned for me.
As I barrel forward through the brambles and overgrown weeds, I hardly am aware of the scrapes and cuts. Nor does it bother me that I trip over a hidden bottle and go tumbling face first in the dirt. I sling myself forward with the stamina of a much younger man.
And then, I am there standing in touching distance from her. It’s her. She’s got the same strawberry blonde hair that always tended to leave me breathless. It’s wrapped in a French braid with a daisy tucked behind her left ear. She looks younger by nearly twenty years. Her nose and cheeks are dusted with a fine layer of freckles.
I began to giggle like a schoolboy as I remember I once tried to count them. Twenty-three is the highest I got before I found my mouth on hers. And suddenly I have an inappropriate urge to pull her close and continue the kiss in front of God and all the neighbors.
Shortly before I do just that, she vanishes, leaving me standing in the front door alone once more. I look around the hallway and notice it’s fully furnished. There is no dust or decay. The parlor is in perfect condition. Even more shockingly I hear someone playing the piano. It’s Fur Elise and I could recognize that sound anywhere. Lenore was playing it the day she died.
The Turkish rug leading down the hall looks familiar, the pattern of the wolf howling at the moon, the picture of the ship sailing in rough seas. I know it. I walk forward, no longer in control over my own body. Instead, everything begins to flash in front of me like a movie. I see my own hand reach for the gilded door knob. I know on the other side of this door is a set of stairs that leads to the great room.
Still, I don’t remember, I can’t remember. They threaten to come back, but I don’t let them. I don’t want to remember. I’m back. Oh God have mercy on me, I’m back to the day my wife died.
I come to this conclusion even as my own traitorous hand throws wide the hallway door. I fight for control. I do everything in my power to not see. My eyes fling wide and I look to see the back of my sweet Lenore’s head, the damned daisy still perched behind her ear. She’s playing and she doesn’t know I’ve arrived.
I know what is coming but I don’t want to. Yet those damned feet, those mutinous mother fuckers keep pushing me forward. First up one step then two, before I even know it, I’ve scaled half of them. Now I can see her back, she’s in a flowery dress with what looks to be hummingbirds sucking at the honey. Fur Elise is ramping up, and the song is nearing its climax.
And then I see it. Him to be precise. He’s lounging in my chair, drinking my whiskey, with his shirt partially unbuttoned. Rage, white hot fills me once more. I look to the left and then the right, and that’s when I see my cavalry saber hung on the wall for decoration.
I remember the outcome, yet I can’t force myself to let go of its hilt. My hand turns white from grasping it so hard. There’s nothing I can do to lessen my grip. I see myself marching up behind her sword held high in one hand.
Fur Elise climaxes as my arm swings. I strike her left shoulder blade and with a discordant whine the music stops altogether. Inwardly I scream. I curse my God’s damned temper. I watch as she slumps out of her chair.
Without a second glance, I am charging the man just beginning to look up from his comfortable spot in my seat. My blade penetrates his right abdomen, he lets out one shriek before my second swing catches him directly in the throat.
I am appalled at the blood spurting from his nearly decapitated neck. My hands are scarlet, I feel wet stickiness oozing down my face. Yet I can’t control my own limbs as they swing and swing and swing, chopping the man into kindling. I try to close my eyes but they won’t, so I see his hand go flying. I watch as his innards come bubbling out of his abdomen. I split his head like a grape and watch his brain matter leak out of the side of it.
To my dismay, I hear a gurgling sound coming from behind me. I turn knowing what I’ll see but powerless to stop it. I look to see my Lenore’s face towards me trying to speak. Blood bubbles drizzling out of the side of her mouth. I don’t need to hear the words to know what she is trying to say. “Please, no more.”
Pity fills my heart and my own eyes refuse to cry. “Please don’t do this,” I scream at myself in vain. I watch as I slowly move towards my former wife letting the blade carve a wicked groove into the marble floor. With no mercy my arm swings the blade up once then twice then three times, and all goes black.
Finally, I regain control of my limbs and body. I look up to see a vandalized great hall with a nasty groove in the marble floor, and there my chopped wife lying on the floor looking up at me with dead yet still very much alive eyes.
I see the monstrosity of my late wife clamber to her feet. Her left eye slides out of its socket running like egg yolk down her face. Black pustule blood leaks from her wounds. Her right eye locks with mine and in a slobbering wet noise she said, “I will never let you forget what you did here. Jail wasn’t enough for you. You didn’t stay your hand, so even in your Alzheimer’s I won't let you forget. Same time tomorrow, honey?”
2023.05.28 19:13 dark-oracleN2 Things that john wick 5 should add/improve
Might gonna get blasted by fans 😅
★Story & character :- Maybe the story will be john eliminating high table.Fine by me but
They should explore or focus on already established characters like Winston & king
Instead of giving us more characters & be like "hey.. This character knows john from past & he hates him now for this reason"
We Don't need more of that vague explanation
& just another small thing.... WHY DO WE SEE THE SAME JOHN KISSING HIS WIFE CLIP EVERYTIME JOHN REMEMBERS HER
LIKE AINT THERE ANYTHING ELSE TO SAY ABOUT HER CHARACTER?? NO OTHER MEMORY?
★Characters having their own style:-
Even tho there are so many characters (from different countries) & yet everyone does the same john wick style chest chest headshot.
Wouldn’t it be logical that atleast some gunslinger has different style
Maybe this time around we will see character that has some of their style too
Like somebody who does john woo type of "shooting while in the aishoot dodge thing"(overexcited type)
Or guy who likes to do quick draw
★Action:- controversial opinion but the gun-fu stuff got stale after first two john wick films
They should branch out like they did with chapter 3 (horse ride,bike chase,knife fight,more focus on melee combat,raid style final boss)
Granted i didn't like the change when i watched it first time.second viewing.. I can see why they did it.. Not perfect but nice change of pace
John wick 4 has some impressive scenes but outside of top down section & traffic scene there wasn’t much that standout
Imo this time they should make a all in knife fight (chapter 3's one was more like knife throwing than knife fight)
ALSO WHICH ACTORS U LIKE TO SEE IN JOHN WICK 5??(sorry if its already been asked)
I want to see iko uwais/ joe Taslim (bit obvious but come on they deserve it)
Wouldn’t mind having jason statham & jon bernthal too
submitted by dark-oracleN2 to JohnWick [link] [comments]
★Story & character :- Maybe the story will be john eliminating high table.Fine by me but
They should explore or focus on already established characters like Winston & king
Instead of giving us more characters & be like "hey.. This character knows john from past & he hates him now for this reason"
We Don't need more of that vague explanation
& just another small thing.... WHY DO WE SEE THE SAME JOHN KISSING HIS WIFE CLIP EVERYTIME JOHN REMEMBERS HER
LIKE AINT THERE ANYTHING ELSE TO SAY ABOUT HER CHARACTER?? NO OTHER MEMORY?
★Characters having their own style:-
Even tho there are so many characters (from different countries) & yet everyone does the same john wick style chest chest headshot.
Wouldn’t it be logical that atleast some gunslinger has different style
Maybe this time around we will see character that has some of their style too
Like somebody who does john woo type of "shooting while in the aishoot dodge thing"(overexcited type)
Or guy who likes to do quick draw
★Action:- controversial opinion but the gun-fu stuff got stale after first two john wick films
They should branch out like they did with chapter 3 (horse ride,bike chase,knife fight,more focus on melee combat,raid style final boss)
Granted i didn't like the change when i watched it first time.second viewing.. I can see why they did it.. Not perfect but nice change of pace
John wick 4 has some impressive scenes but outside of top down section & traffic scene there wasn’t much that standout
Imo this time they should make a all in knife fight (chapter 3's one was more like knife throwing than knife fight)
- Maybe a scene that pays homage to oldboy's hallway scene (old protagonist going up Against 20/25 enemies.. Kinda Slow but realistic brutal fight scene)
- & maybe a fight scene inside a train (not in bullet train fashion tho)
- A longer chase sequence (wouldn’t mind if its on horse too )
- Get rid of bulletproof suit for some fight scene & put john wick in actual life/death scenario ( i mean its the last film.. So it should be harder for john wick to survive)
ALSO WHICH ACTORS U LIKE TO SEE IN JOHN WICK 5??(sorry if its already been asked)
I want to see iko uwais/ joe Taslim (bit obvious but come on they deserve it)
Wouldn’t mind having jason statham & jon bernthal too
2023.05.28 19:09 Tacticalbiscit New here and have some questions
So my wife got a xtool d1. Used it the first time and somehow I didn't even think about fumes and dust. I'm trying to figure out building a housing for it and I'm having trouble finding what I need to use for the tint. I tried looking for pre-tinted plexiglass, but having trouble finding one related for diode lasers. Also, what kind of fan do I need to vent it outside? I was looking at the ACInfinity S6 but idk if this is to much or to little. It would have no filters, just piped right out a window.
Any advice would be great!
submitted by Tacticalbiscit to Laserengraving [link] [comments]
Any advice would be great!
2023.05.28 19:08 LaGa2015 “Followed” at club. Advice!
Wife and I went to a lifestyle club early this year for the first time. When we first got there this single mail b-lined it to us and start talking to us. We were just there to see what it was all about and not hook up. He was trying to talk to us about family and kids and other things we had no interest in discussing in that setting (especially being our first time). We broke off the convo as soon as we could and walked away.
Fast forward 2 months later. We are back at the club and that same single guy is there (we are not looking for a single guy).
We notice his route walking the club is stopping by us every time. We purposely move. He changes his route to go by us again.
We move to a whole new area and go sit on a couch. He follows us and is sitting right next to us with in a minute. We move right away hoping he gets the hint.
He does not and follows us again and is standing right next to us again! We move again right away. He has not talked to us yet because we are purposely not looking at him. We can see he is waiting for an opening.
We move to a standing area. We also do not want to be closed off because we are looking for a couple to talk to and have been making eyes with some. He sees us again and comes right to us and my wife turns and blocks him. He has to abort his attempt. We think this is a clear message.
We decide to go back and play and think we might not see him since single males can not go back.
We are on a bed and its heating up. A couple we like is close and we are exited to make some moves.
The same single male shows up with what we assume a single female. They come right to us and sit down at the couch right in front of our bed and start watching.
We stop right away and go to another room. We were in the main room and were bummed to leave.
We come back later and find a spot were he is not. Well he finds us and they walk to us. We stop and just wait. Again they sit down facing us and watching us. So we end up moving yet again, this time to a to more private room.
Now we never told him we were not interested but in my opinion it was obvious.
My question is, is there club etiquette to deal with this? Should we have engaged him to say we are not interested? Should we have told staff what was going on? Appreciate any insight and would love to know how others would have dealt with it. We will be back there and will probably run into him again!
submitted by LaGa2015 to Swingers [link] [comments]
Fast forward 2 months later. We are back at the club and that same single guy is there (we are not looking for a single guy).
We notice his route walking the club is stopping by us every time. We purposely move. He changes his route to go by us again.
We move to a whole new area and go sit on a couch. He follows us and is sitting right next to us with in a minute. We move right away hoping he gets the hint.
He does not and follows us again and is standing right next to us again! We move again right away. He has not talked to us yet because we are purposely not looking at him. We can see he is waiting for an opening.
We move to a standing area. We also do not want to be closed off because we are looking for a couple to talk to and have been making eyes with some. He sees us again and comes right to us and my wife turns and blocks him. He has to abort his attempt. We think this is a clear message.
We decide to go back and play and think we might not see him since single males can not go back.
We are on a bed and its heating up. A couple we like is close and we are exited to make some moves.
The same single male shows up with what we assume a single female. They come right to us and sit down at the couch right in front of our bed and start watching.
We stop right away and go to another room. We were in the main room and were bummed to leave.
We come back later and find a spot were he is not. Well he finds us and they walk to us. We stop and just wait. Again they sit down facing us and watching us. So we end up moving yet again, this time to a to more private room.
Now we never told him we were not interested but in my opinion it was obvious.
My question is, is there club etiquette to deal with this? Should we have engaged him to say we are not interested? Should we have told staff what was going on? Appreciate any insight and would love to know how others would have dealt with it. We will be back there and will probably run into him again!
2023.05.28 19:06 ozarkmartin Slowly getting me and the wife's kayaks put together. First overnight should be next month! Most of our gear is in and just installed some foam flooring in my H10!
 | submitted by ozarkmartin to KayakCamping [link] [comments] |
2023.05.28 19:01 Able_Possession8736 A Comprehensive Guide to Pro Football Video Game Covers
Another Madden $70 re-skin is upon us, so let's take a moment to explore the history of all the people who have been featured on the cover of an pro football video game.
While the selection of the Madden cover athlete is now an event, there was a wild wild west period of football games from the 80s to the mid-2000s where anybody with a computer could and would build football games, with the selection of the cover being all over the place. Roger Craig was the first cover athlete in 1985 on NFL Challenge for MS-DOS. Madden's first game was in 1988, then by the mid-90s getting a cover athlete or spokesman for your football game was pretty standard.
I wanted to compile those games and covers based on this Wiki article (and a few that it was missing from that list) and see who was on the main cover of all of those games (some games were almost completely irrelevant, so I left them off this list). Some of these may have more alternates with other people, but I'll stick with the main cover.
*These are heavily boosted by John Madden being on 10 Madden covers
Obviously QBs dominate here, but I didn't realize how little defensive players have been on football game covers (9%), with none being on a cover since Richard Sherman in 2014. I'd love to see more defensive players on the Madden cover. Who would be the most likely defensive guy in the near future? Aaron Donald, TJ Watt, Nick Bosa, Myles Garrett, or Sauce Gardner?
If a team's player was not a lead on the cover or was not any identifiable player, I gave them a *
The Re-skins/Commanders?, Jags, Panthers, and Bills have appeared on a cover but never with an athlete as the lead or with a real person. Only the Texans have never appeared at all on the cover of any football video game. I'd say the Bills are most likely to get one next (Josh Allen), then the Jags (Trevor Lawrence), then the Panthers/Texans if either hits a home run with Young or Stroud. The Commanders have a long road ahead to getting a feature cover athlete, unless you ask Sam Howell who thinks he should be this year's Madden cover athlete.
Kordell Stewart, Daunte Culpepper, and Donovan McNabb (and possibly Lamar Jackson, still too early for him) are the only players with multiple appearances that are either not or are unlikely to make the Hall of Fame. McNabb is the only guy to appear in multiple covers in the same year. Also of note, 7 athletes were on a cover without ever making a pro bowl in their careers: Brad Muster, Pat Terrell, Gordon Laro, Chris Zorich, Albert Fontenot, William Floyd, and Peyton Hillis (Hillis was the only one to be the primary cover athlete).
I'll list all the games and their respective covers by their era below. I'll also attach some of my favorite covers from each era. If the cover person was a Hall of Famer, I'll mark them with a \). If they're very likely to make the HoF but they're not yet eligible, I'll mark them with a +
We didn't see the first cover athlete until 1985 with Roger Craig. They didn't really become standard until the early to mid-90s after Madden became a big selling point for the early Madden games. The dip in the last 2 decades is because there's just less games, so any generic football games will have a large effect.
1988: John Madden Football released on the Apple II, MS-DOS, and Commodore 64/128 (partly being developed by Bethesda), which was the beginning of the most dominant franchise in football video games. They featured no NFL teams due to a lack of an NFL license.
1991: Tecmo Super Bowl is probably still my personal favorite football video game. It's totally timeless, and if you pick the Raiders then you're a cheater.
2000: Madden 2001 started the tradition of having their games feature a cover athlete in this format, which consolidated into nearly everyone following this trend.
2001: Backyard Football 2002 was a more kid-friendly version of a football video game, and they also had other games for other professional sports. I definitely played this a lot on my old Windows Me computer, and Pablo Sanchez is a god.
2002: NFL Fever was Microsoft's foray into football video games on the original Xbox. All 3 of their games featured Peyton Manning as the cover athlete.
2002: NFL GameDay 2003 was 989 Sports' exclusive for Sony on the PlayStation platform.
2004: ESPN NFL 2K5 was the last great football game before the NFL exclusively gave their license to the EA. It was this game that definitely led to NFL's decision though, as they slashed their release price to an unheard of $20, which forced Madden 2004 to release at $30 instead of the typical $50. This pissed off the NFL, who decided to have less competition instead.
2006: NFL Head Coach was a new perspective on NFL Games where you play as the coach instead of the players. I enjoyed these although they could get a little boring.
2007: All Pro Football 2K8 was 2K's attempt at keeping the 2K football franchise alive without the coveted NFL license. They got three HoF players on the cover in Elway, Barry, and Rice, but not the actual license to any NFL team. This game received praise for its mechanics, but poor sales showed that a non-NFL licensed game would always struggle to make it.
2011: Madden 12 was maybe the last good Madden game. Also, Peyton Hillis. The only guy on a NFL football game cover to never make a Pro Bowl. This guy is an actual hero though, so good for him.
2019: Doug Flutie's Maximum Football was a mix of american and CFL football as another attempt at making a football game without the NFL license to poor results. They have announced a new game as a free to play title on new platforms, but no games in this franchise have released since 2020.
2020: Retro Bowl is a mobile game more in the style of Tecmo Super Bowl than Madden. It's probably the most successful non-Madden game since ESPN NFL 2K5, and it's pretty fun. People should definitely give this one a try since it's free to play on any mobile platform.
2022: Madden 23 gave the cover back to Madden for the first time since 1999 to honor the passing of the legend John Madden. Unfortunately the game inside the cover was crap, has been the style of Madden games for over a decade.
submitted by Able_Possession8736 to nflstreamlinks [link] [comments]
While the selection of the Madden cover athlete is now an event, there was a wild wild west period of football games from the 80s to the mid-2000s where anybody with a computer could and would build football games, with the selection of the cover being all over the place. Roger Craig was the first cover athlete in 1985 on NFL Challenge for MS-DOS. Madden's first game was in 1988, then by the mid-90s getting a cover athlete or spokesman for your football game was pretty standard.
I wanted to compile those games and covers based on this Wiki article (and a few that it was missing from that list) and see who was on the main cover of all of those games (some games were almost completely irrelevant, so I left them off this list). Some of these may have more alternates with other people, but I'll stick with the main cover.
Covers by Position
https://preview.redd.it/1dzua4o2hl2b1.png?width=600&format=png&auto=webp&v=enabled&s=023c573335e64d21fccc937a44db0ae995510db6*These are heavily boosted by John Madden being on 10 Madden covers
Obviously QBs dominate here, but I didn't realize how little defensive players have been on football game covers (9%), with none being on a cover since Richard Sherman in 2014. I'd love to see more defensive players on the Madden cover. Who would be the most likely defensive guy in the near future? Aaron Donald, TJ Watt, Nick Bosa, Myles Garrett, or Sauce Gardner?
Covers by Team
https://preview.redd.it/8f29df4ygl2b1.png?width=600&format=png&auto=webp&v=enabled&s=3b93f8a4ddb26b2cee1f6abd74652f44b7fbfdcbIf a team's player was not a lead on the cover or was not any identifiable player, I gave them a *
The Re-skins/Commanders?, Jags, Panthers, and Bills have appeared on a cover but never with an athlete as the lead or with a real person. Only the Texans have never appeared at all on the cover of any football video game. I'd say the Bills are most likely to get one next (Josh Allen), then the Jags (Trevor Lawrence), then the Panthers/Texans if either hits a home run with Young or Stroud. The Commanders have a long road ahead to getting a feature cover athlete, unless you ask Sam Howell who thinks he should be this year's Madden cover athlete.
Most Prolific Cover People
https://preview.redd.it/5axoymcakl2b1.png?width=2871&format=png&auto=webp&v=enabled&s=9ecf9c52cad0647d1572d2d9c85ebdef0dd277c3Kordell Stewart, Daunte Culpepper, and Donovan McNabb (and possibly Lamar Jackson, still too early for him) are the only players with multiple appearances that are either not or are unlikely to make the Hall of Fame. McNabb is the only guy to appear in multiple covers in the same year. Also of note, 7 athletes were on a cover without ever making a pro bowl in their careers: Brad Muster, Pat Terrell, Gordon Laro, Chris Zorich, Albert Fontenot, William Floyd, and Peyton Hillis (Hillis was the only one to be the primary cover athlete).
I'll list all the games and their respective covers by their era below. I'll also attach some of my favorite covers from each era. If the cover person was a Hall of Famer, I'll mark them with a \). If they're very likely to make the HoF but they're not yet eligible, I'll mark them with a +
Covers by Era
| Decade | # of Games | # of Games w/Cover Athletes | # of Cover Athletes |
|---|---|---|---|
| 60s | 1 | 0 | 0 |
| 70s | 4 | 0 | 0 |
| 80s | 11 | 2 (18%) | 2 |
| 90s | 36 | 32 (89%) | 21 |
| 00s | 40 | 38 (95%) | 36 |
| 10s | 14 | 10 (71%) | 12 |
| 20s | 8 | 4 (50%) | 5 |
| Total | 114 | 86 (75%) | 76 |
The Early Days: 1965-1982
1978: Football! for the Magnavox Odyssey 2 was the first football video game with a cover, but obviously the cover athletes are generic.| Year | Game | Cover Athlete | Team | Position |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1965 | FTBALL | NA | NA | NA |
| 1972 | Football (Magnavox) | NA | NA | NA |
| 1978 | Football! | Generic players | NA | NA |
| 1978 | Football (Atari) | Generic players | NA | NA |
| 1979 | NFL Football | Generic players | NA | NA |
| 1982 | Realsports: Football | Generic players | NA | NA |
The 2D Era: 1983-1996
1985: NFL Challenge was the first football game with a real cover athlete (Roger Craig). This was the original bar for realism in football simulation, to where it was used in a 1988 ESPN Program \"NFL Dream Season\" where they simulated the greatest teams of all time against each other.1988: John Madden Football released on the Apple II, MS-DOS, and Commodore 64/128 (partly being developed by Bethesda), which was the beginning of the most dominant franchise in football video games. They featured no NFL teams due to a lack of an NFL license.
1991: Tecmo Super Bowl is probably still my personal favorite football video game. It's totally timeless, and if you pick the Raiders then you're a cheater.
| Year | Game | Cover Athlete | Team | Position |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1983 | 10-Yard Fight | Generic Jersey | NA | NA |
| 1984 | Super Action Football | Generic player | NA | NA |
| 1985 | NFL Challenge | Roger Craig | 49ers | RB |
| 1987 | 4th & Inches | Generic players | NA | NA |
| 1987 | Tecmo Bowl | Generic players | NA | NA |
| 1988 | TV Sports: Football | Generic player | NA | NA |
| 1988 | John Madden Football ('88) | John Madden* | None | John Madden |
| 1989 | ABC Monday Night Football | Generic player | NA | NA |
| 1989 | NFL | Generic players | 49ers, Raiders, Oilers, Broncos, Re-skins | NA |
| 1989 | PlayMaker Football | Equipment | NA | NA |
| 1990 | Joe Montana Football | Joe Montana* | None | QB |
| 1990 | John Madden Football ('90) | John Madden* | None | John Madden |
| 1991 | John Madden Football II (or '92) | John Madden* | None | John Madden |
| 1991 | Tecmo Super Bowl | Generic player | NA | NA |
| 1992 | NFL Sports Talk Football '93 | Joe Montana* | 49ers | QB |
| 1992 | Front Page Sports Football | Generic players | NA | NA |
| 1993 | Capcom's MVP Football | Brad Muster | Bears | FB |
| 1993 | Madden NFL '94 | John Madden* | NA | HC/Announcer |
| 1993 | NFL Football '94 Starring Joe Montana | Joe Montana* | Chiefs | QB |
| 1993 | Mutant League Football | Mutant | NA | NA |
| 1994 | ESPN Sunday Night NFL | Chris Berman | NA | Announcer |
| 1994 | Madden NFL '95 | John Madden* | NA | John Madden |
| 1994 | Tecmo Super Bowl II: Special Edition | Generic player | Cowboys | NA |
| 1994 | Troy Aikman NFL Football | Troy Aikman* | Cowboys | QB |
| 1995 | Emmitt Smith Football | Emmitt Smith* | None | RB |
| 1995 | Madden NFL '96 | John Madden*, Pat Terrell, Gordon Laro | NA, Panthers, Jags | John Madden, DB, TE |
| 1995 | NFL Quarterback Club 96 | Steve Young*, Chris Zorich, Albert Fontenot | 49ers, Bears | QB, DL |
| 1995 | Sterling Sharpe: End 2 End | Sterling Sharpe | None | WR |
| 1995 | Tecmo Super Bowl III: Final Edition | Generic players | Raiders, Bills | NA |
| 1995 | NFL GameDay | William Floyd | 49ers | FB |
| 1996 | Madden NFL 97 | John Madden* | NA | John Madden |
| 1996 | NFL '97 | Kordell Stewart | Steelers | QB |
| 1996 | NFL Quarterback Club 97 | Dan Marino* | Dolphins | QB |
| 1996 | NFL GameDay '97 | Daryl "Moose" Johnston | Cowboys | FB |
The Parity Era: 1997-2004
1997: NFL Blitz came from Midway studios and was a breath of fresh air for football games. They had mostly been stagnant trying to hone in on realistic simulation in 2D form, whereas Blitz came out in 3D and threw realism out the window. I definitely spent too much money on the arcade version of this game.2000: Madden 2001 started the tradition of having their games feature a cover athlete in this format, which consolidated into nearly everyone following this trend.
2001: Backyard Football 2002 was a more kid-friendly version of a football video game, and they also had other games for other professional sports. I definitely played this a lot on my old Windows Me computer, and Pablo Sanchez is a god.
2002: NFL Fever was Microsoft's foray into football video games on the original Xbox. All 3 of their games featured Peyton Manning as the cover athlete.
2002: NFL GameDay 2003 was 989 Sports' exclusive for Sony on the PlayStation platform.
2004: ESPN NFL 2K5 was the last great football game before the NFL exclusively gave their license to the EA. It was this game that definitely led to NFL's decision though, as they slashed their release price to an unheard of $20, which forced Madden 2004 to release at $30 instead of the typical $50. This pissed off the NFL, who decided to have less competition instead.
| Year | Game | Cover Athlete | Team | Position |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1997 | NFL Blitz | Kordell Stewart | Steelers | QB |
| 1997 | NFL Quarterback Club 98 | Brett Favre* | Packers | QB |
| 1997 | NFL GameDay '98 | Jerome Bettis* | Steelers | RB |
| 1997 | Madden NFL 98 (64) | John Madden* | NA | John Madden |
| 1998 | NFL Xtreme | Mike Alstott | Bucs | FB |
| 1998 | NFL Quarterback Club 99 | Brett Favre* | Packers | QB |
| 1998 | NFL GameDay '99 | Terrell Davis* | Broncos | RB |
| 1998 | Madden NFL 99 | John Madden* | NA | John Madden |
| 1999 | NFL Xtreme 2 | John Randle* | Vikings | DL |
| 1999 | NFL Quarterback Club 2000 | Brett Favre* | Packers | QB |
| 1999 | NFL GameDay 2000 | Terrell Davis* | Broncos | RB |
| 1999 | NFL 2K | Randy Moss* | Vikings | WR |
| 1999 | Madden NFL 2000 | John Madden* | NA | John Madden |
| 1999 | Backyard Football | Steve Young)*, Jocinda Smith, Amir Khan | 49ers, Generic | QB |
| 2000 | NFL Quarterback Club 2001 | Brett Favre* | Packers | QB |
| 2000 | NFL GameDay 2001 | Marshall Faulk* | Rams | RB |
| 2000 | NFL 2K1 | Randy Moss* | Vikings | WR |
| 2000 | Madden NFL 2001 | Eddie George | Titans | RB |
| 2001 | NFL Quarterback Club 2002 | Brett Favre*, Rich Gannon | Packers, Raiders | QB |
| 2001 | NFL GameDay 2002 | Donovan McNabb | Eagles | QB |
| 2001 | NFL Fever 2002 | Peyton Manning* | Colts | QB |
| 2001 | NFL 2K2 | Randy Moss* | Vikings | WR |
| 2001 | Madden NFL 2002 | Daunte Culpepper | Vikings | QB |
| 2001 | Backyard Football 2002 | Drew Bledsoe or Donovan McNabb | Pats or Eagles | QB |
| 2001 | ESPN NFL PrimeTime 2002 | Edgerrin James* | Colts | RB |
| 2002 | NFL GameDay 2003 | Tom Brady+ | Pats | QB |
| 2002 | NFL Fever 2003 | Peyton Manning* | Colts | QB |
| 2002 | NFL 2K3 | Brian Urlacher* | Bears | LB |
| 2002 | Madden NFL 2003 | Marshall Faulk* | Rams | RB |
| 2003 | NFL GameDay 2004 | LaDainian Tomlinson* | Chargers | RB |
| 2003 | NFL Fever 2004 | Peyton Manning* | Colts | QB |
| 2003 | Madden NFL 2004 | Michael Vick | Falcons | QB |
| 2003 | ESPN NFL Football | Warren Sapp* | Bucs | DL |
| 2003 | Backyard Football 2004 | Jeff Garcia | 49ers | QB |
| 2004 | NFL GameDay 2005 | Derrick Brooks* | Bucs | LB |
| 2004 | Madden NFL 2005 | Ray Lewis* | Ravens | LB |
| 2004 | ESPN NFL 2K5 | Terrell Owens* | Eagles | WR |
| 2004 | NFL Street | Ricky Williams | Dolphins | RB |
The Madden Era: 2005-Present
2005: NFL Street 2 was the second in the NFL Street series as a kind of spiritual successor to NFL Blitz. EA tried to have some diversity in their football video games outside of the Madden franchise, so they had the short-lived Street franchise under \"EA BIG\"2006: NFL Head Coach was a new perspective on NFL Games where you play as the coach instead of the players. I enjoyed these although they could get a little boring.
2007: All Pro Football 2K8 was 2K's attempt at keeping the 2K football franchise alive without the coveted NFL license. They got three HoF players on the cover in Elway, Barry, and Rice, but not the actual license to any NFL team. This game received praise for its mechanics, but poor sales showed that a non-NFL licensed game would always struggle to make it.
2011: Madden 12 was maybe the last good Madden game. Also, Peyton Hillis. The only guy on a NFL football game cover to never make a Pro Bowl. This guy is an actual hero though, so good for him.
2019: Doug Flutie's Maximum Football was a mix of american and CFL football as another attempt at making a football game without the NFL license to poor results. They have announced a new game as a free to play title on new platforms, but no games in this franchise have released since 2020.
2020: Retro Bowl is a mobile game more in the style of Tecmo Super Bowl than Madden. It's probably the most successful non-Madden game since ESPN NFL 2K5, and it's pretty fun. People should definitely give this one a try since it's free to play on any mobile platform.
2022: Madden 23 gave the cover back to Madden for the first time since 1999 to honor the passing of the legend John Madden. Unfortunately the game inside the cover was crap, has been the style of Madden games for over a decade.
| Year | Game | Cover Athlete | Team | Position |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 2005 | Madden NFL 06 | Donovan McNabb | Eagles | QB |
| 2005 | NFL Street 2 | Jeremy Shockey, Xzibit | Giants, Pimp My Ride | TE, Rapper |
| 2005 | Blitz: The League | Generic players | NA | NA |
| 2005 | Backyard Football 2006 | Daunte Culpepper | Vikings | QB |
| 2006 | Madden NFL 07 | Shaun Alexander | Seahawks | RB |
| 2006 | NFL Head Coach | Bill Cowher* | Steelers | HC |
| 2006 | NFL Street 3 | Chad Johnson | Bengals | WR |
| 2007 | Backyard Football '07 | Ben Roethlisberger+ | Steelers | QB |
| 2007 | Madden NFL 08 | Vince Young | Titans | QB |
| 2007 | All-Pro Football 2K8 | John Elway*, Barry Sanders*, Jerry Rice* | Generic | QB, RB, WR |
| 2007 | Backyard Football '08 | Tom Brady+ | Pats | QB |
| 2008 | NFL Tour | Shawne Merriman | Chargers | LB |
| 2008 | NFL Head Coach 09 | Tony Dungy* | Colts | HC |
| 2008 | Backyard Football '09 | Tom Brady+ | Pats | QB |
| 2009 | Madden NFL 10 | Troy Polamalu*, Larry Fitzgerald+ | Steelers, Cards | DB, WR |
| 2009 | Backyard Football '10 | Frank Gore+, Eli Manning+, Kurt Warner*, Peyton Manning*, Adrian Peterson+, Jason Witten+ | 49ers, Giants, Cards, Colts, Vikings, Cowboys | RB, QB, TE |
| 2010 | Quick Hit Football | Logo | NA | NA |
| 2010 | Madden NFL 11 | Drew Brees+ | Saints | QB |
| 2010 | Backbreaker | Generic player | NA | NA |
| 2011 | Madden NFL 12 | Peyton Hillis | Browns | RB |
| 2012 | Madden NFL 13 | Calvin Johnson* | Lions | WR |
| 2013 | Madden NFL 25 | Barry Sanders* or Adrian Peterson+ | Lions or Vikings | RB |
| 2014 | Madden NFL 15 | Richard Sherman+ | Seahawks | DB |
| 2015 | Madden NFL 16 | Odell Beckham Jr. | Giants | WR |
| 2016 | Madden NFL 17 | Rob Gronkowski+ | Pats | TE |
| 2016 | Axis Football 2016 | Generic player | NA | NA |
| 2017 | Madden NFL 18 | Tom Brady+ | Pats | QB |
| 2017 | Axis Football 17 | Generic player | NA | NA |
| 2018 | Madden NFL 19 | Antonio Brown+ | Steelers | WR |
| 2019 | Doug Flutie's Maximum Football 2019 | Doug Flutie | Generic (Stampeders) | QB |
| 2020 | Sunday Rivals | Helmet | NA | NA |
| 2020 | Retro Bowl | Generic player | NA | NA |
| 2020 | Legend Bowl | Silhouette | NA | NA |
| 2019 | Madden NFL 20 | Patrick Mahomes+ | Chiefs | QB |
| 2020 | Madden NFL 21 | Lamar Jackson | Ravens | QB |
| 2021 | Madden NFL 22 | Tom Brady+, Patrick Mahomes+ | Bucs, Chiefs | QB |
| 2022 | Madden NFL 23 | John Madden* | NA | John Madden |
| 2023 | NFL Pro Era | Lamar Jackson | Ravens | QB |
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2023.05.28 18:57 Gloomy_Travel7992 20F Looking for friends who are Movie and TV Lovers too
Over the past few years I’ve slowly become more and more interested in film and television, watching something everyday has become the norm for me now. I’m no buff by any means but I’ve been immersed in these arts for quite a bit now. But I have no irl friends to chat about them, so what better place to be then here.
While I like mostly every genre, and I’m always open to new things, a few of my favourites are, for movies: Paddington 2, Dunkirk, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Toy Story 2, Jurassic Park, and Little Women, and for TV: Adventure Time, Stranger Things, Ted Lasso, Barry, and The Crown.
I’m hoping to find people with a similar interest in these arts, and are up to chatting all things movie and tv, whatever it may be the creatives at work, such as directors, actors, etc. Interesting news about upcoming projects or whatnot. Or even the state of the streaming wars, exciting right. If any of this interests you hmu!
I do however have some things I would not like with chatting, firstly that I want to keep the convo strictly movies and tv, I don’t want to talk about what I do at university, or my other interests, etc. unless they come up naturally and still revolve around the main topic, this is because I spend enough time irl talking about that stuff, but no one irl is interested in movies and tv like me. Basically looking for a movie and TV buddy!
submitted by Gloomy_Travel7992 to Needafriend [link] [comments]
While I like mostly every genre, and I’m always open to new things, a few of my favourites are, for movies: Paddington 2, Dunkirk, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Toy Story 2, Jurassic Park, and Little Women, and for TV: Adventure Time, Stranger Things, Ted Lasso, Barry, and The Crown.
I’m hoping to find people with a similar interest in these arts, and are up to chatting all things movie and tv, whatever it may be the creatives at work, such as directors, actors, etc. Interesting news about upcoming projects or whatnot. Or even the state of the streaming wars, exciting right. If any of this interests you hmu!
I do however have some things I would not like with chatting, firstly that I want to keep the convo strictly movies and tv, I don’t want to talk about what I do at university, or my other interests, etc. unless they come up naturally and still revolve around the main topic, this is because I spend enough time irl talking about that stuff, but no one irl is interested in movies and tv like me. Basically looking for a movie and TV buddy!
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2023.05.28 18:56 lewisant48 5 years on, in a new relationship but still in love with ex wife
I’ll try to keep this short and sweet. My ex wife and I were in a relationship for 7 years and were married for the final 2. It was a lovely relationship but towards the end our concentration was on saving money for our wedding and then migrating which led to moving in with with her toxic family (alcoholics, mental health issues, all sorts) and this impacted my mental health and one day I had enough and walked out.
My girlfriend struggled with her mental health after a poor childhood and I was the first person in her life that had never let her down. She trusted me so much and the day I walked out I sadly broke that trust and even though after I few weeks I realised it wasn’t our relationship that was the problem but myself and how I processed the toxic environment completely wrongly, she was too hurt to let me back in and we were separated and eventually broken up and then divorced. We remained amicable and supportive to one another and she came back to me twice as a friend when her life got tough and at one point I put her up for a while and we got back into old habits like having nice walks and BBQs and watching tv shows, the lines were blurred and it was a bit strange but we eventually both began dating other people.
Fast forward almost 3 years and we had become estranged for about 18 months but both In relationships that started just after I put her up for a bit. Anyway we reconnected in December and she had seen a counsellor and wanted to address a lot of things, including acknowledging times where she mistreated me and realising she should have appreciated me more etc.
This rocked me emotionally as I’ve really struggled to move on in life and despite having a gf for coming up to 3 years that I have a home with, pets with, go on holidays with and have a cracking life my mind often drifts to imagine what it would be like with my ex, and fantasising that we’re still together.
I feel she was quite emotionally immature at times when we were together and sometimes her mental health lead to emotional abuse towards me and it seems she has addressed these things.
We’ve been talking as friends since December and there have been some wobbles but I think we both tried to move on from an emotional connection to one another but the other day she totally broke down on the phone to me, saying things like she realises how good a person I am for her and how special our connection was and is (and I agree, we have some form of connection that is the deepest I’ve ever had). I broke down in response. I fantasised of this happening for so long but it has now happened in a time that is so complex.
I really don’t know what to do because my heart has never been fuller than when we were together and I have a very different love for my girlfriend. My life is pretty sorted, I have a nice life but my heart aches so often. I just feel sad a lot these days.
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My girlfriend struggled with her mental health after a poor childhood and I was the first person in her life that had never let her down. She trusted me so much and the day I walked out I sadly broke that trust and even though after I few weeks I realised it wasn’t our relationship that was the problem but myself and how I processed the toxic environment completely wrongly, she was too hurt to let me back in and we were separated and eventually broken up and then divorced. We remained amicable and supportive to one another and she came back to me twice as a friend when her life got tough and at one point I put her up for a while and we got back into old habits like having nice walks and BBQs and watching tv shows, the lines were blurred and it was a bit strange but we eventually both began dating other people.
Fast forward almost 3 years and we had become estranged for about 18 months but both In relationships that started just after I put her up for a bit. Anyway we reconnected in December and she had seen a counsellor and wanted to address a lot of things, including acknowledging times where she mistreated me and realising she should have appreciated me more etc.
This rocked me emotionally as I’ve really struggled to move on in life and despite having a gf for coming up to 3 years that I have a home with, pets with, go on holidays with and have a cracking life my mind often drifts to imagine what it would be like with my ex, and fantasising that we’re still together.
I feel she was quite emotionally immature at times when we were together and sometimes her mental health lead to emotional abuse towards me and it seems she has addressed these things.
We’ve been talking as friends since December and there have been some wobbles but I think we both tried to move on from an emotional connection to one another but the other day she totally broke down on the phone to me, saying things like she realises how good a person I am for her and how special our connection was and is (and I agree, we have some form of connection that is the deepest I’ve ever had). I broke down in response. I fantasised of this happening for so long but it has now happened in a time that is so complex.
I really don’t know what to do because my heart has never been fuller than when we were together and I have a very different love for my girlfriend. My life is pretty sorted, I have a nice life but my heart aches so often. I just feel sad a lot these days.
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2023.05.28 18:53 LeocantoKosta_ Finally get time to yourself -> Now you want more time to yourself
I’m diagnosed autistic and in my mid-30s with a wife and toddler. I had been experiencing pretty bad burnout which is partly what led to pursuing and then receiving a diagnosis. Since I’ve been diagnosed I’ve had a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts but one thing I’ve been trying to focus on is getting time to myself away from my family to try to address my burnout. The first few times I got a day or two to myself then I was noticeably more engaged afterwards. However this has started to wane and now I feel like I just want more time, and starting to feel resentful. Anyone else experience this and if so, any thoughts or tips?
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