im black so can i say the n word please if you guys will let me there are no rules on the subreddit it looks

Today after 9 days of having my Marcus account locked, and them finally receiving my notarized affidavit of identity at their P.O. box... After over 4 hours on the phone, a long email, and making a CFPB report, I finally have my answer of what went wrong. Can you guess what I did? Well before I reveal it, I need you to listen to a word from my sponsor... just kidding, Here is the answer: I updated my phone number. Thats right, and I can pinpoint the day it happened from an email confirmation. On Feb 20, 2021, I updated my number and it didn't get flagged by their fraud department until March 21st, 2023 for an account I have actively used the new phone number for as verification since... then confusion, panic, and anger ensued.
Well the 21st started out like any other day. I have my own business, and I use Marcus as kind of a central hub account as it is easy to send large sums of money outbound from there. The day prior I had just sent out a large sum to pay for a new truck purchase at an auction, but then I got an email that would change my life for the next 9 days, but felt like forever.
"Action requested: Please call us back about your account". I call in immediately and I'm informed my account is locked for fraud protection and they cannot tell me the reason until I am verified. I think oh no problem and I give them my last 4, DOB, passphrase, and the last step is a pin to my phone number. After several minutes of them sending me a pin multiple times, I just wasn't receiving it, and I'm thinking that is really odd. I ask if they can just email me the pin code, but they said "no, we need to verify through your phone." I wasn't able to piece it together until now, but since my new number was flagged as potential fraud, they were trying to send it to my dead phone number from 2 years ago and they for some dumb reason wouldn't or couldn't tell me that my phone number was flagged until after I verified my pin that was going to a dead phone number... yeah... makes a ton of sense.
They then transferred me to the fraud department, where when I finally got ahold of someone, they said they would call me back in 2 minutes for verification reasons where again they were trying to call a 2 year old dead phone number, but I didn't know that. So after 20 minutes of no call back I called again, and at this point I am starting to get frustrated, but on their side since I didn't take their call on my old dead phone number they have now brick walled me.
They are now telling me the only route to go is for them to mail me this affidavit of identity and get it notarized, then mail it back to their PO Box. Then I start to panic, because I know that will take over a week and I need access to my money, and I don't know the extent of this fraud or what is happening! Is someone intercepting my texts? Do I need to be worried about my other accounts? Future me here: "Nope just the old phone number and a horrible fraud department", but I am thinking the worst because they refuse to tell me what's going on. I tell them to let me upload my passport, DoD ID, drivers license, hell whatever they want!
Nope! Goldman Sachs doesn't have a customer email system, but don't worry I was told "that is something they are working on"... yeah since when? the year 2000!?... No secure place to upload verification documents? I'm sure its coming any day now... so I beg them "please just hop on a video call me with, I can sort this out in a matter of seconds"... "sorry sir we can't do that"... "can you at least priority mail me a pin code to my address that has been on file for the last 5 years"... "sorry sir we can't do that".
The only thing they did allowed me to do is print the form instead of waiting for it to come in the mail, and I was able to send it off to the P.O. box they gave me. I asked "when it gets there will you be able to unlock my account"... "no sir, you will have to call in"... "can you just call me?"... "no sir, you will have to call in"...
So I rush to the notary before the end of business and mail this thing off, and then its time to wait... then call to check if they got it, 30 minutes on hold... explain everything, "nope we didn't get it yet"... then wait some more... call... 30 minutes on hold... "no...", wait some more and call... meanwhile I am checking my accounts and everything looks good, but I have to scrap together some money that I didn't know I would need, and end up paying tons of fees and making tons of additional calls to sort out my business situation... and then finally after 9 days they got it... not to mention that I got their mailed AoI after only 3 days.
TLDR: So then today they tell me "The reason your account was locked is because our verification service wasn't showing your name for the number you had on file"... "Wait the one that has been utilized to log in to my account for the last 2 years?"... "yeah that one, so we referred to your prior number, but don't worry I put in a $4 request so you can get reimbursed for the notary fee and the inconvenience"
A multi-billion dollar bank in 2023 ladies and gentleman... holy

Hello,
My wife and I are looking to buy within the year. I've thought about getting a RE license as I'd like to get into investment properties and for personal purchases (FT engineer currently). I buy/sell cars on the side so I'm familiar with negotiating and working with people.
Math is based on a 400k listed home that is worth such.
Regarding having a buyers agent (specifically regarding the financial side), would it not make sense:

1. Go ahead and get RE license (NC, $200-$300 for online classes & exam + cheapest bare-bones broker - no need for MLS/NAR membership. Not worried about factoring in time) and then keep the 2.5-3% commission on any personal RE deals (~12k in commission, $500 for broker, roll into DP/closing to lower basis & not pay income tax) TC: 400k + .5k (RE license) + .5k (broker fee) - 12k (buyer RE commission) = 389k
2. Buy without an agent and be self/unrepresented. Not rely on dual-agency. Make lower offer, 388k, but state only 3% commission which would go to the seller's agent. Use attorney to draft up paperwork (1k). I realize seller & agent have prearranged contract which includes contingencies for buyer without an agent (4,5,6% to sellers agent). Everything is negotiable. TC: 388k + 1k = 389k
3. Use seller's agent (dual-agency) to advantage. Submit low-ball offer (380k) knowing seller's agent will push to get 6% cut (23K). TC: 380k

Please pick apart my ideas! Don't get caught up on .5%'s, $500, or extra time/effort. More concerned about the feasibility of any/all. Big-picture: I don't see the need for a buyer's agent and would like to bypass such. Either by becoming own or through specifying in offer.
I have no real estate experience currently aside from anecdotes from friends/family. However, I've seen all 3 of these discussed heavily online (with individuals claiming success with each) and would like input before I pursue any one in particular.
Thank you for any input!

I'm looking for jobs in Germany, and I have a question regarding resumes. Hope I can get some help here.
I only speak a little German. I can get by in typical tourist situations, but it's definitely not enough for more serious things. I find it easy to communicate what I'd like, but then I can't understand a word they are saying. I'm learning, and picking things up pretty quickly, but just not there yet.
I think my best bet would be some low level job at the moment. Last time I was there, I spoke with someone working in hospitality who got hired with minimal German knowledge. And the same place was low on staff, so I wanted to apply. And while at it, hit up a couple similar places, maybe I can get something.
My question. Should I submit my - hopefully - spotless English resume, or should I create a German one too that might be full of errors? My best bet is my minimal German knowledge and GoogleTranslate, so it definitely won't be perfect. (Can't afford professional translators rn.)
I feel like an added German version could be seen as a nice initiative. Maybe the owner of the place doesn't speak English or something. But I'm afraid that with my level of German, it would be seen more as an unprofessional thing, and I'm better just sticking with the English one.
Also, I'm confused about photos. My current CV doesn't have one. And I'd like to keep it that way. But I'm willing to send a separate photo. I'm just not sure if I have to, or should, or don't? I'm confused.
Any advice would be highly appreciated!
//Please spare me the "don't-come-until-your-German-is-better" stuff. I don't exactly want to move to Germany. Especially not after spending a couple weeks browsing this sub. (No offense, but these stories omg.) It's more like I have to move to Germany. My son is there, and I don't really have any other option to see him. So I'm more than willing to go through the Ausländer grinder. Not happily, but with a fake smile? That I can do.

Our company makes You Tube videos like these as shown in the channel mentioned below, and we are hiring fresh team of Story writers .
Check Out MSA [My Story Animated] on YouTube Writer must have absolutely immaculate English and each story must be long enough to turn into a 4-5 minutes animation video. Currently paying $0.01 per word so roughly $10 per script of 1000 words. There is no limit on how many you can write and we pay after each script, so there is no waiting of payment.
Payment method are USDT and ETH only.
Please comment below and send chat request with your introduction and we will get this going.

I am trying to find old acquaintances that I met in Spain and Morocco in 1970 and early 1971 in the south of Spain. We all used pretty much first names only so it has been a somewhat fruitless search. If Anybody has a story or knows someone travelling there at that time please post. You may recognize me as the guy with the blue Norton commando or (earlier) the Navy Corpsman with the VW bus.
Key words: Diane D. from Detroit? I'm the guy that fixed your MC chain on the 250 BSA. There was that Spaniard on horseback with the binoculars, Later we rode your bike to Morocco. You were going to teach English to a family...Never saw you again.

Playsets of Ultis stay together unless I can definitely lock in three buyers per set
I am prioritizing my want list so that means I’m not looking at binders.. sorry.
HEADS UP I DONT HAVE MUCH OF THE NEWEST SETS CARDS IN THIS POST BUT STILL THANK YOU FOR LOOKING
Looking to let off the cards for lowest 85% TCGPLAYER 5k+ sales verified plus fees!

Higher cards
Binder #1
===== WANTS =====
NEAR MINT - VLP ENGLISH ONLY
[Mix of rarity]

• • Sealed LART Exodia set
• • 3x Shadow-Imprisoning Mirror - Duel Terminal 7
• • Discard (error card)
• • Card of Safe Return

[Super Rares] * • 1x PGD Necrovalley (Unlimited) * • 1x TU02 Gravekeeper's Assailant * • 2x DB2 Royal Decree
[Ultra Rares] * • MRD 1st Ed Mirror Force * • Hobby League cards 3x MST, 3x Card of Safe Return, 1x Creature Swap * • Magicians Unite Champion Pack 3 (CP03) * • FET 1st Ed Gatling Dragon - Flaming Eternity
[Secret Rares] * • 3x Solemn Judgement * • 2x 1st INOV Starving Venom Fusion Dragon * • 2x Secret rare Floodgate Traphole * • PCK Secret Rare Blue-Eyes (NM-LP) * • Dark Magician Girl MFC 1st (NM-LP) * • 1x Dimensional Barrier 1st INVO * • GBI Egyptian god secret rare cards * • 3x Fossil Dyna Pachycephalo LOD 1st * • 3x DANE Gnomaterial * • 3x Ghost Belle FLOD 1st * • 1x CBLZ Spellbook of the Master * • 1x TSC Graceful Dice * • 1x Blue-Eyes Toon Dragon MRL-E000 * • 1x Thunder King Rai-Oh YG02 * • 1x BOSH TrapTrix Rafflesia
[Ultimate Rares] * • 1x Castel, The Skyblaster Musketeer * • 1st Ed Majester Paladin, the Ascending Dracoslayer * • 3x 1st Ed Spellbook of Fate * • 1st Ed. Gattling Dragon * • 3x Ulti Necrovalley * • Night beam * • Dark World Dealing * • Allure of Darkness * • A Feather of a Phoenix * • Rare Value * • Into the Void * • Night Beam * • Card Trader * • Scramble Scramble!! * • Veil of darkness * • Triggered Summon 1st * • Miraculous Rebirth 1st
[Ghost Rares] * • Ghost Dark Magician
[Collector Rares] * • ⁠1x CR Black Luster Solider * • 1x CR 1st Ed Black Luster Solider * • 3x CR Trap Trick * • 3x CR Droll & Lock Bird * • 3x CR Solemn Judgement
[Starlight Rares] * • Starlight Ip Masq. * • 3x Starlight Effect Veilers * • Gloomy aka Dark Charmer Starlight * • Divine Arsenal AA-ZEUS - Sky Thunder Starlight * • Accesscode Talker * • Borreload Savage Dragon * • Exodia the Forbidden One Pieces
==MAGIC==

• Hurricane
• Bayou

(Not straight buying any as of right now unless putting towards trades)
==== Rules====

• Minimum of 10 dollars PLEASE for shipping PWE!
  
• PWE can only hold 6 cards… if it exceeds that we’re looking at tracked I am so sorry… I have been sending out orders PWE and people have been getting postage fees owed due to the weigh
  
• Anything over $40 gets free tracked shipping, otherwise I will ask $4 for shipping for tracking or at your own risk in PWE envelope. USA shipping
  

*Currently not shipping to Canada unless PWE (+$2 dollars for the stamp) due to two too many issues.

• FIRST COME FIRST SERVE WHICH ALSO MEANS IF SOMEONE HAS CASH READY I WILL PRIORITIZE THEM OVER WAITING FOR YOU I HAVE BEEN BURNED MANY TIMES WAITING*

I'm happy to provide closeups of anything if needed. Hopefully Drive has better image quality where you can access the cards easiest without waiting for me to respond.
SHIPPING OUT ORDERS ALL FRIDAY!
Thumbnail

Feeling petty. What is the pettiest thing you've seen done on a wildfire?
Please no fire names or people/team names. -One time an IMT got strong-armed into running over a million dollars of heavy helicopter buckets on a dead fire so there'd be zero smoke for when the President flew over the fire that afternoon. -Another time at demob, a certain state agency (hint, it sounds like "CAL-amari" but isn't as salty) truck was raising a stink at camp because he didn't want to weed wash the retardant off the truck (and thus couldn't demob) because he wanted the retardant on the truck for the hero factor back at the home unit. He was also Safety... -Another time, a different Safety didn't like backing up his Infiniti SUV, so he requested the team to demob six lowboys that were parked at a large stock pen trailhead, his own words "so you can just drive around, and not have to back up, which is dangerous." The guy didn't know how to use his mirrors to back up. Anyhow, turns out the equipment was all demobing in two or three days, which lined up with a weekend (not possible to transport heavy equipment in that state on weekends) and the following Monday was a holiday, so that one Safety cost the team/fire over about a hundred grand in extra cost just because he didn't like backing up. Hilarious.

Part 59
Lieutenant General Marcus Stanley, United States Army
Marcus stomped into the TOC. One of the gods was already there, the naked black woman. He racked his brain for a second to remember her name.
"Vintress, right?" he asked as he approached her, leaning over a folding table with a map spread out on it. Little glowing figures moved slowly about it; fist-sized knots of tentacles, and little pinpricks with arms and legs. The red-glowing ones, including the primordials themselves, were moving forward, while the green-glowing figures moved back.
"Yes, General," Vintress said.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"The primordials have rallied. They are pushing us hard, regaining ground we had taken back. I am observing now, to see their strategy, and seek a weakness."
"Anything jumping out yet?"
"No," Vintress said, and Marcus could hear her grinding her teeth. "They have become inexplicably smarter. And tougher. We have yet to kill one today."
"Let's hope that it disorganizes them as much as usual, then," Marcus said, though he doubted that would be the case. Not for any specific reason, it was just that that was the sort of thing that often changed when plans went sideways.
"We will soon find out," Vintress said. "Look."
Marcus followed her pointing finger to a gold-glowing figure. Marcus squinted, then put on his reading glasses and leaned over the map. It was the honor god, the one who'd tried to stop the vigilante and gotten his hand chopped off for his troubles.
"Tyndale, is it?" Marcus asked.
"Tysrane," Vintress corrected. "Yes," Marcus said. "Sorry, I've always been bad with names."
"Names are both trivial and deeply personal," Vintress said. Marcus glanced at her, meeting her eyes without sweeping her nude form with practiced ease.
"My name, Vintress, it literally means 'huntress' in a long lost language of a tribe I once favored. I adopted it to reflect my position when I acquired my domain. Prior to that, my name was Clisenryr. Do you know what that means?"
"I do not," Marcus said, playing along.
"It meant 'the angry one'."
Marcus eyed her with a blank expression, wondering where she was going.
"I do so enjoy watching this," she said, turning her eyes back to the map. Marcus followed her gaze just in time to see Tysrane turn into a streak that passed through one of the primordials. The creature exploded, and a hush fell over everyone in the TOC who wasn't glued to another screen or desk. Two seconds passed, and then the sound hit them.
A muted, basso crack echoed through the air. The loose fabric of the tent fluttered and Marcus felt the table and ground shaking for just an instant.
Marcus watched as the tiny, glowing primordial rained down around the battlefield as chunks, the largest chunk still in place, deflating and tumbling away.
"Heh," he said. "Rolling away like a booger on a greased pan."
Vintress squinted at him. "Is that a common idiom among your people?" she asked. Marcus laughed out loud. "No, it's just what came to mind when I saw it."
"Good," Vintress said. "It would raise disturbing questions if it was." Marcus couldn't help but agree with that one.
"They're not faltering," he said after a moment. The red enemies were still assaulting the green positions.
"Your men are holding their own," Vintress said. Marcus nodded. "Damn straight. Those are most experienced warfighters, and each position has at least one Spec Ops boy in it. Most have half an A-team. They're going to be punching well above their weight, and that, my friend, is indeed a common idiom."
"Yes, since we left you to your own devices, you have been consistently performing well above our own expectations of you."
Her tone was off. It sounded almost worried. Marcus eyed the goddess for a moment, letting his eyes slip down from her face to take in the set of her shoulders, her pose, the tension in her chest and stomach. There was a lot going on in her head. She was afraid, and not just of this new push by the primordials.
Marcus reached into his pocket and grabbed the heavily-encrypted phone there. It was a Blackberry, based on a model more than two decades old, but full of modern guts, including a tiny transmitter with about fifteen miles of range. His thumb brushed the built in keypad, finding and pressing buttons by feel.
----
Command Sergeant Major Eric Hale, 5th Special Forces Group
Hale stomped his way from one fighting position to the next, the incoming hail of spines apparently balking at the terrifying expression on his grizzled face, and refusing to come anywhere near him.
At least, that was the impression he hoped to give the men watching him. The truth was, his butthole was puckered so goddamn tight you couldn't pound a needle in it with a jackhammer.
He got to the forward-most position, two M2HBs, one of which was crewed only by two dead bodies, their helmets shattered by the spines.
"They're shooting back, sarge!" the assistant gunner said as he crouched down and pulled the bodies away from the gun.
"Yeah, the enemy tends to do that," Hale said with practiced nonchalance. He checked the gun, made sure it was in working order, then cleared the barrel with a two-round squeeze before settling down into a shooting position. He looked at the assistant gunner's nametape.
"Martinez, you're gonna have to assist both of us, right?"
Martinez checked the ammo in Hale's gun, then in the other.
"Pace your shots to Jeff," he said, hooking a thumb at his buddy on the other gun. "You've got about twice as much ammo left in the can as him. I'll keep you reloaded."
Hale nodded and aimed down the sites. He began to return some hate back to the senders, tearing apart spider crabs and shambling zombies with every round. He didn't notice the encrypted phone in his pocket buzzing.
Both gunners concentrated on the spider crabs, who were the ones who'd learned to shoot back. They spat the spines out of their mouths in short bursts. Their aim was shit, but there was enough of them that it didn't matter.
Hale emptied his can and let Martinez fit a new one. "Only one more can, Sarge," Martinez said. "And Jeff's up next." Hale nodded and focused on killing the spider crabs.
The ammo didn't last nearly as long as he'd have liked. He ran dry and unhooked the can. "That's it," he said as he folded up the bipod and grabbed the heavy gun by the carry handle.
"As soon as you're out, I want you to fall back to the rally point and rearm. Sergeant Lewis will show you where to set up, next. Huah?"
"Huah!" Martinez shouted as Jeff ran dry. Martinez quickly got his cans swapped and Jeff resumed shooting. Hale turned and began to make his way back. The rain of spines seemed to have actually gotten worse.
He threw the notion of striking an intimidating figure to the wind and hustled back to the rally point, dropping the weapon off at the stack. First Sergeant Lewis walked up.
"Lewis," Hale said. "Send two guys up to FP Echo to pick up a couple bodies, then try to find someone to man this gun."
"I'll do what I can, Top," Lewis said. "Lot of losses today."
"Relatively," Hale pointed out. From what he'd seen, they were standing at about one and a half percent casualties, and that included the wounded, who were being treated magically and sent back within hours of coming off the line.
"Yeah, but you know that still affects morale," Lewis pointed out.
Hale nodded and reached in his pocket to check his phone. "Shit," he swore as he saw the message.
"Can I help?" Lewis asked. Hale thought about it, then turned the screen to let him read it.
Gods r scared of us, might turn. b prpred
"Shit," Lewis said.
"Spread the word," Hale told him with a sigh. "I can't imagine a worse time to get this news, so naturally, this is when it happens. Get someone down to the clinic to get our boys rushed through and get the docs out and into the MASH tents. Have word sent back to camp to get everybody out of those standing-doorway rooms and into barracks tents. I was everyone in their battle rattle and carrying their weapon, and I mean everyone. Cooks, techs, logi boys... Every fucking one."
"Right," Lewis said with a nod. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, pray this is just the General being paranoid."
"Pray to who?" Lewis asked.
"Good fucking point," Hale said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Go on, I gotta go find the Colonel."
Hale stomped off towards the HQ tent as Lewis jogged away. He found Colonel Stanislaw leaning over a radio console with headphones on.
"...that's right, Major. We're splitting out from the magic fuckers. One second, my Top's here now." The Colonel covered his mouthpiece with one hand and slipped one of the speakers off his ears.
"Did you see the General's message?" Stanislaw asked. Hale nodded. "I sent Lewis to get our people out of their facilities and get everyone armed."
"Good. I'll issue orders to the officers to let you and Lewis lead the way. But right now, I need to discuss strategy. Let me wrap this up."
"Major," he said, unhanding the mic. "Major, I've put Top and Sergeant Lewis in charge of the prep. Spread word to the officers to defer to them on this. Yes, that's right. Damn straight, they are. Good. Report back to me in, let's say, ninety minutes. Good. Stanislaw out."
He pulled the headphones off. "Walk with me, Top."
Hale fell into step beside the Colonel and they walked out of the camp. When they'd gotten far enough away, they stopped.
"What are your initial thoughts?" the Colonel asked.
Hale frowned. "Not good, sir. They can do all kinds of tricky shit with their magic that we can't counter. From what I hear, we can strike back, but it won't be easy. With over twenty of them still here, I don't think there's enough of us to stand."
"We don't really have a choice," Stanislaw said. "We can't let these primordials get past us, or the whole world is done for."
"Then I say we concentrate everything right around the FHQ, sir. We'll have the docs set up at the aid station, have the men break down a couple of the tents. Motor pool and cavalry staging is going to be a bitch to move on short notice, but we'll get it done."
"I know you will. I need to go find Major Danvers, work out placement for the cavalry if we have to fall back. Go ahead and get started prepping."
"Yes, sir," Hale said, snapping the Colonel a salute. Stanislaw saluted back, and Hale jogged off. As he approached the HQ, a humvee pulled up and two men climbed out. Hale recognized the General's bodyguards right away. Both were large, bearded men in DADPAT, with backwards-turned baseball hats and gucci-ed out M4s. They emerged and began prowling around the area before one of them clicked his radio, said something and then walked over to Hale.
"Eric," he said as he approached.
"Hey, Jim," Hale replied. "Colonel just ran off to talk to Danvers about cavalry placement in case this emergency happens."
Jim nodded. "Fucked up shit," he said. Hale nodded back. General Stanley stepped out of the vehicle, spotted Hale and walked over. Hale came to attention and saluted. Stanley saluted back casually, "As you were, Sergeant. Did you see my message?"
"I did, sir, as did the Colonel. Preparations are already under way. If you need to talk to the Colonel, he's on his way to Major Danvers as we speak."
"I'm actually here to talk to you, Top," Stanley said. "I've got a job for you."
"Whatever you need, sir. I should inform you that the Colonel has asked me to oversee the transfer of equipment and personnel from the allied facilities to our own and the consolidation of our forces here."
"I'll step in to handle that personally, Eric. You remember a fellow named Bill Martin?"
Hale nodded. Bill and he had served together. He know Bill was a solid soldier and a holy terror in close quarters.
"Well, Bill's one of the executives at the DCM Group. I want you to take Jim and Mac with you, head back earthside and get with him. Tell him about our concern here and find out what kinds of resources they can spare. I've got six million budgeted for expenses, and I'll drop every dime of it on them if they can provide enough support to help us survive a two-front war out here.
"After you're done with that, I want you to go see the man himself and explain the situation to him. You tell him I said the following, verbatim. 'Sir, if this shit goes down and we don't throw everything we have at it in one big mass, right off the bat, I do not think we will survive'. You tell him those exact words, and that I mean it. I've already called in an appointment for you at three PM local time. Don't worry about getting there on time, just make sure you get it all done."
"Sir, yes, sir," Hale said, snapping another salute. Though he could barely believe it, the pucker factor was even higher than it had been walking out to that gun position.
Stanley saluted back, far more crisply than usual. He turned to his bodyguard. "You heard me, Jim," Jim nodded and stepped over next to Hale. "Ready when you are, Top."
Nate, the General's other bodyguard, wandered over. "We set?" he asked. Hale and Jim both nodded.
"Take my transport," Stanley said. "And get back here as soon as you're done."
They climbed into the Humvee and took off.
----
Bill Martin, President of Physical Security, Divine Crisis Management Group
Bill looked up as the door opened to reveal Julie. She looked haggard and run down.
"You look amazing," he said as soon as the door closed. He made sure his voice sounded sincere. Julie smiled and walked right over to sit on his lap and lay her head on his shoulder.
"Thank you," she said. "I feel like I'm being torn in a million directions. And I just got more bad news."
"What's that?"
"Jerry's gone radio silent. I got in touch with Michelle Vasquez, and she told me he's run off to kill the goddess who took his family."
"Shit," Bill muttered. He waited a beat before adding. "I can't really blame him, though."
"Except he was supposed to be tracking down the escapees," Julie said.
"The man's lost his family. He's wild with grief, right now. And truth be told, if he manages to kill her, that's not exactly a bad thing."
Julie lifted her head to meet Bill's eyes. "Are you defending a revenge quest?" she deadpanned.
"No, just pointing out that this one is advantageous. It's liable to produce a more positive outcome than him returning the escapees."
Julie sighed. Everybody was turning on her over the issue of Jerry. And then she sighed again, because Bill was still Bill.
"I'm gonna lock that door," she said. "Because I need to unwind."
Bill frowned in confusion. "What are you going to-" he stopped as the light came on in his eyes, making Julie smirk. "Ahh, I get it. What the hell, I mean, you're the boss, right?"
Julie stood and locked the door, then turned towards Bill and began unbuttoning her shirt. "I used to never understand people who got a thrill out of risking getting caught," she said as she peeled her shirt off and reached back to unhook her bra.
"But I think I'm starting to get it. It's the relief of getting away with it," she said, dropping her bra on the floor. Bill stared in fascination, the sight of her stripping easily the most alluring thing he'd ever seen. She unzipped the side of her skirt and then peeled it off to reveal a set of garters and a hard-on.
"You uh," Bill said, the words difficult to find as his mind focused on the imagery. "You planned for this.. Uh, this morning?"
Julie smiled and walked back to him, loosening his tie. "I stopped wearing underwear when we started dating," she said as she pulled it out of his collar. Bill put his hands on her hips and leaned forward to kiss her ribs, just below the solar plexus, where it always made her gasp.
Her gasp came at the same instant that Bill recognized the sound of someone pounding on the door.
"Shit!' he cursed. He looked around for a second, shooting to his feet. "Get under the desk, quick!"
Julie crawled under the desk and Bill moved to the door, kicking her discarded clothes behind a potted plant. Right as he opened the door, he cursed himself for not kicking them to her.
Three men immediately walked in, pressing past him. Two were in DADPAT and armed, the third in a set of ACUs with a CSM's stripes. Bill blinked as he recognized the Sergeant.
"Eric? Eric Hale?" he asked.
Eric stuck out his hand. "Hey Bill, been a long time." Bill shook his hands. "Yeah, it has. Who are your friends?"
"General Stanley's bodyguards. Jim and Nate. They're solid."
Bill held out a hand to each, who shook it with a respectful nod.
"So what brings you here?" Bill asked. He stepped over to his desk and sat down behind it, careful not to trod on Julie. She immediately slid a hand up his inner thigh and he struggled to maintain his composure. Eric took a seat while the two bodyguards stood.
"I need to hire as much magical muscle as I can for six million dollars, as fast as possible."
Bill frowned. Julie let go of him. "What for?"
Eric glanced around meaningfully. Bill nodded at the door, which one of the bodyguards closed, then he pressed his fingers to the rune inscribed on the right corner of his desk.
"Total privacy," he said.
"We have reason to believe the gods may turn on us," Eric stated.
"Holy shit," Bill said.
"Hell of an understatement," one of the bodyguards rumbled. Bill thought it was Jim. "You must have been a ranger."
"I was," Bill confirmed. "Shit, we're spread pretty thin right now. Wizards are mostly out levitating ruined buildings and healing injured people. This is some serious shit, though."
"Don't ask me why, I don't know. But Stanley's behind this, and I trust the old man's judgement."
Bill nodded. He remembered Stanley back when he was a full-bird Colonel. He'd been a solid, brilliant and trustworthy officer back then.
"I'll start making calls. I've got to hold some back, but I think I can round up about a hundred or so for you. You want extra shooters?"
"With magic guns?"
"Magic guns, armor, uniforms, gear... The works."
"Yes, very much."
"I can get you eighty before you leave the office. Another hundred and sixty in a couple of hours, and two hundred more by tomorrow."
Eric nodded. "How much?" he asked.
"Not a dime!" Julie said from under the desk. The three visitors all jumped. Bill rolled his chair back as Julie stood. Despite her state of undress (and Bill was relieved to see that she wasn't aiming any anatomy around any more) and the bags under her eyes, she managed to project a regal, businesslike air.
"We'll work up a bill after the fact for expenses," Julie clarified. "And we'll present it to the feds. I know the General's budget was to be used for supplies. If the gods are turning on us, they'll need to spend that money. And before you three go, you can all head down to the armory and get geared up. There's a quartermaster who can tell you how it all works."
"Thank you, Ma'am," Eric said, standing up and carefully keeping his eyes on Julie's face.
"Thanks," Jim added.
"Awesome, sir," Nate said. The room went quiet as Bill narrowed his eyes at the bodyguard. Eric turned to glare at him as well, and Jim shook his head slowly. Nate frowned in confusion, then his eyes widened.
"My apologies, Ma'am," he said quickly. "I just... I don't... I mean, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm cool with, I mean, it's none of my business, I don't-"
"Enough," Bill snapped. "Slip of the tongue. You're good. Just go get geared up. There will be a team waiting for you in the lobby in thirty minutes."
He turned to his computer and began to type quickly, issuing the orders to assemble as many as they could. He pointedly did not meet Nate's eyes, because he didn't want to lose his temper.
Julie ushered them out.
"I'm really sorry, Ma'am, I swear I didn't mean anything..." Nate stammered as they left. Julie patted his shoulder and closed the door, turning back to Bill.
"Orders are sent," Bill said. Julie gave him a funny look, which Bill couldn't interpret. He decided to assume the worst.
"He started apologizing and making excuses before I could even figure out how best to threaten him-" Bill started to say defensively, but Julie threw her head back and laughed.
After a moment, Bill's face cracked into a smile and he joined her.
"Well, that was ironic," Julie managed to wheeze as she walked back and began to unbutton Bill's shirt. "But since we got caught anyways... Hehe, we might as well enjoy it."

For anyone currently debating whether or not to send back their PSVR2 for replacement, or for those in the future that google this dilemma, I figured I would share my experience and offer one solitary piece of advice: refund your unit instead of exchanging it.
I received my first PSVR2 on launch day and noticed after playing a few hours that the left lens contained a scratch. At first, I thought the scratch was a hair or piece of debris, but after several cleanings with a microfiber cloth, the scratch remained. I don't wear glasses and was super careful with the headset out of the box, so I'm confident the unit arrived out of box with the scratch. I decided to initiate a replacement with PS Direct because $600+ is too much to pay for anything short of perfection with this device.
Contacted support via live chat (https://www.playstation.com/en-us/support/contact-us/direct/?category=PS+Direct) and within a few minutes had a return label generated and a replacement initiated through PS Direct. Immediately packed up the PSVR2 and dropped it off at FedEx the same day. The box took two days to arrive at the PS Direct return facility, arriving on March 8th. I did not receive any email confirmation or notification from PS Direct that my PSVR2 was received; the only way I knew the package arrived was via FedEx tracking information.
On March 10th, I contacted live chat and requested confirmation that my package had been received and was being processed. The agent confirmed that my package was received and to grant 10 business days to process the return and send out a new unit. This marked the beginning of the waiting game. I heard nothing from PS Direct over the next two weeks and did not receive any status updates on my PS Direct account regarding the return. For the entire 10 business days, my account still said "replacement initiated" and "pending return."
On March 21st, I contacted support again and requested a status update. They told me that the 21st marked the ninth business day (I counted March 8th because they received it at 10am) and to contact them tomorrow. I followed up the next day in late afternoon and the agent told me to reach out the following day because there was still several hours where my return could get processed within the 10 business day window. Finally, the next day I contacted support once more, and the agent then elevated my case. The agent could not provide any email confirmation that was my case was actually elevated, but they did provide a case number.
That evening, a PS Direct representative emailed me and apologized for the delay in handling my return. She initiated a full refund at that point and cancelled the mailing of the replacement unit. Based on the email's wording, it sounded like PS Direct lost my return. After receiving this email, I was able to go into the PS Direct store and purchase a new PSVR2, which I received on March 28th. Support had previously been unable to change my exchange process from a replacement to a return, which I had requested around the ninth business day since the process was taking so long. The entire process took nearly three weeks to receive a new unit.
My advice: if considering whether or not to send your PSVR2 back to PS Direct, do NOT initiate a replacement. The lack of communication, lack of awareness of where my return was in space/time, and remarkably slow handling of the exchange process has convinced me that PS Direct is a poorly run organization (at least in the U.S.). How it takes 10 business days to receive a package and ship out a new unit is beyond me, never mind the fact that PS Direct was unable to even meet that incredibly generous timeline.
-------
TLDR: do NOT initiate a replacement for your PSVR2 -- refund it instead and purchase a new one. You'll save yourself about 2.5 weeks of unnecessary waiting. Or better yet, if you purchase a PSVR2 at some point in the future, give your business to a retailer that can actually conduct a return.

If you want to read the full chapter, please go to AO3!
THE SINS OF OUR FATHERS - A DDMA WHAT-IF? STORY
Chapter 3: The Truth
​
\November 7th, 2017. Salvato High School, around 11:15 AM.\**
In terms of coming up with incredible art, and figuring out great ideas to put on paper, Itsuki Mirai was one of the best. Even as a child, he was always eager to grab a piece of paper and some crayons, and go to town with it. And as he grew older and older, his affinity and skill in the craft grew as well. By High School, it was clear the boy had a bright future with the art world if he kept this up.
However, even those with incredible talent can have moments where those great ideas and skills aren’t up to snuff. Maybe it’s because they’re feeling sick, or that what they’re working on isn’t giving them that same passion and drive as other projects they’ve done before. And in Itsuki’s current case, it was due to being distracted by the thoughts in his mind.
Granted, he tried to power through and come up with something as he doodled in his red sketchbook at his desk, set near the back of Mr. Amari’s classroom. He even tried looking around the room for something that might inspire him, like the small fridge at the teacher’s desk, which had some Star Wars stickers on it.
There was also an old record player on a shelf behind Itsuki at the back of the room. Though, he never heard it play a single tune throughout his time in High School, due to it being broken. And when looking back to the front of the room, he took notice of Mr. Amari taking sips of Coffee from his Wild E. Coyote cup while looking over stuff on his computer at his desk.
Honestly, Itsuki always found Amari’s classroom quite comfortable, ever since he first walked in here as a Freshman. In fact, Kiyoshi Amari was almost like the father he never really got, and many of the other students held him in high regard. He was kind, relaxed, and fun to talk with, while also being passionate and fair when it came to his duties as a Math teacher.
Yet…despite all that, Itsuki hasn’t bothered moving the pencil in his right hand across the paper much. Every time he starts to make something, he decides to erase it and start over. It was a tedious and annoying process, and the redhead wasn’t happy with any of it at all. In fact, many of the students could tell he was having a bit of trouble.
So much so that Mr. Amari decided to get out of his desk and walk towards the boy, feeling a bit concerned. And once he gets there, Itsuki looks up at him with a despondent expression on his face. The redhead takes note of the teacher’s brown sweater and blue jeans, alongside his black shoes and the wrist watch on his right hand.
While it’s a common look for him, it definitely shows what Mr. Amari is all about. Professional, but comfortable. Plus, his brown hair that’s starting to turn white due to old age is also eye-catching, alongside his blueish-purple eyes. And his figure is quite skinny as well. Though, he still has a pretty good diet, despite looking like skin and bones sometimes. Regardless, the teacher asks what’s going on with the young Mr. Mirai, hoping to cheer him up a bit.
Amari: “Everything going well today, Mirai?”
Itsuki: “Eh…it’s just one of those days for me…”
Amari: “I getcha. That artist brain of yours can’t always work at 100% efficiency.”
Itsuki: “Mm. I wish it could, but…we don’t always get what we want.”
Noticing Itsuki’s more downcast tone of voice, Amari decides to press a little more about what his student is dealing with.
Amari: “Something tells me it’s a little more than artist block.”
Amari: “Would it be okay if you told me what’s wrong?”
Itsuki: “...Sure. I don’t see why not.”
Setting the pencil down, Itsuki sighs and tells Amari what’s on his mind.
Itsuki: “So, you remember all the crap that’s been going on with me and Natsuki, right?”
Amari: “Indeed. She keeps pushing you away when you get too close and all that?”
Itsuki: “Yes. But she was absent for the Culture Festival, despite how much we needed her for the Poetry Recital in the Literature Club.”
Itsuki: “However, when I tried texting or calling her, she never responded.”
Amari: “Really? Not even during the weekend? Or yesterday?”
Itsuki: “Nope. But I DID see her peeking out the window of the clubroom doors, and confronted her.”
Itsuki: “She said her aunt had a stroke, and that’s what kept her from showing up.”
Itsuki: “Yet…she never told me ANYTHING about having an aunt. So I’m willing to believe that it’s either a subject she kept hidden for a good reason, or it was entirely made up.”
Amari: “Huh…strange…did you call her out at all?”
Itsuki: “No. I could tell she wasn’t feeling too great, and she didn’t want to see everyone else at the time.”
Itsuki: “In fact…she looked like she was…”
Itsuki: “...Afraid of something.”
Itsuki: “And it definitely didn’t look like the fear of loss…”
Itsuki’s suspicion is clearly shown through his facial expression. And while Amari keeps a calm and still look on his face, he’s definitely feeling suspicious about this situation too.
Amari: “Are you certain of your ideas?”
Itsuki: “Well, considering how many times she’s lied to me, I don’t have much reason to NOT believe something is up.”
Itsuki: “I just hope she gives me a clear answer today.”
Amari: “So you’re gonna talk to her? Don’t you think you should give her some time to think about it first?”
Itsuki: “Maybe. But I think she was considering the idea of telling me when I saw her yesterday.”
Itsuki: “Besides, I’m done with her constant dishonesty.”
After those words are spoken, Amari shows a bit of concern on his face. Then, he takes a deep breath, and regains a bit of his composure before speaking.
Amari: “Let me tell you this, Itsuki.”
Amari: “When it comes to confronting your loved ones about their troubles or honesty, it can get quite messy.”
Amari: “One could call it a delicate process. Very easy to make a mistake, if you’re not careful.”
Amari: “Hence, I want you to be mindful of how you go about this.”
Amari: “Just because Natsuki’s someone you care a lot about, and she’s having some issues doesn’t mean she automatically owes you any kind of answer.”
Itsuki: “Sure, but…if my loved ones are having a tough time, then shouldn’t it make sense that I step in and do whatever I can in order to help them?”
Amari: “To an extent, yes. But that doesn’t give you the right to barge into their problems and act like a hero.”
Amari: “Some things can’t be so easily solved with a few kind words. And especially not with punches or kicks.”
Amari: “Though, I will say it’s not good to lie to those you care about. Especially if it’s frequent.”
Amari: “However, depending on what they deal with, they might have some justified reasons for not saying anything.”
Amari: “Like, they fear others might get hurt by it, or do rash things because of it.”
Amari: “And while I know you’re pretty level-headed for the most part, even people like you aren’t unlikely to snap under stress.”
Amari: “So, you can’t be too pushy or too distant. You need a good balance of both to make it work.”
Amari: “But…I’m certain you’ll find a way to make things right at the end.”
Amari: “All I can tell you is good luck, and to keep my advice in mind.”
While Itsuki still doesn’t look too happy, he does seem to be a bit better as he has a small smile on his face.
Itsuki: “I will. Thank you, Amari. I appreciate it.”
Amari: “Don’t mention it. Anything to help a student.”
Amari: “Now, hopefully, you’ll finally be free to draw something cool like always!”
Itsuki: “Heh. Probably not. But here’s hoping.”
Amari chuckles a bit, before heading over to another student in the room, leaving Itsuki to continue his doodling. As he expected, he doesn’t get much done in terms of “Drawing something cool.” But he’s at least able to better think about what’s going on with Natsuki, and how to handle it. In fact, he’s starting to think if he IS being too pushy with this matter.
Granted, he had no plans of letting Natsuki off easy for constantly putting up fronts with him, but at the same time, she must have a good reason for doing so, right? And how WOULD Itsuki react if he found out the truth? It could be so much worse than whatever ideas he has in mind. What if…in order to deal with Natsuki’s problem…he ended up going too far?
Thinking about that heavy thought, Itsuki takes an annoyed sigh, recognizing just how much more complicated this issue is. Luckily, he has plenty of time to figure out how to go about everything. So, for now, he just hopes for the best.
Read the rest of the chapter on AO3!
​
Next: Counter
TSOOF Archives
Previous: Stolen Opportunity

" It doesn't have a single new policy to increase home building "
Article : https://nationalpost.com/opinion/the-federal-budget-utterly-ignores-the-housing-crisis
Paywall bypass: https://archive.is/X9Res#selection-2359.1-2359.69
Good summary of what the Liberal government did and didn't do.
What I found interesting was this:
"Another demand-side measure is the budget’s promise to offer a de facto bailout of Canadian buyers who took out mortgages at rock-bottom interest rates and now can’t handle the payments. The budget promises that it will instruct banks to offer “fair and equitable access to relief measures” for these buyers."
So the Government, yet again, is going all out to protect the housing bubble and those who sold their souls to the banks by contributing to the ever inflating property bubble but does nothing for the people who are getting the shaft from parasitic landlords because of skyrocketing rents.
you may have seen this post on the other forum earlier today - But for some reason it offended the mods & so they perm banned me and deleted the post. So I'm posting here - if there is something wrong with my post please let me know and I'll delete it. I was just trying to create a discussion about the budget and housing. Thanks

First, Previous
Memory transcription subject: Michael Smith, Human extermination officer
Date [standardized human time]: November 4, 2136
Once we realized that the Nixas were pack predators and probably social enough to hold a grudge, we made sure to get the hell out of there and raced multiple miles downstream, before slowing down again. Our mission forced us to actually explore the ecosystem, instead of just driving past it, after all.
We were all rational enough to agree on that, but none of us liked it. For the entire rest of the day we were constantly checking our backs, waiting for an angry pack of Nixas to attack us. Not that any animal would be able to hurt us inside of the Truck, but something about Vartek almost bleeding out stripped us bare of any sense of safety or security. Vartek was still almost completely incapacitated by his wound - unsurprisingly, if you considered how lucky he even was to even be alive after that bite almost severed one of his biggest blood vessels. We could have called in a medical aircraft to fly him home, but he refused to go and leave us alone, so we decided to nurse him back to health on the inside of Bob.
We still didn’t know why the Nixa attacked us so recklessly, but we had some theories. Steven supposed it was a territorial creature and saw us as competitors over the already limited food supply, so it had no choice but to attack us, if it wanted to live. Lim believed that the lack of food forced it to attack any possible prey, no matter how difficult to kill, because it could not afford to be picky.
It’s almost entirely empty stomach - as the surgery showed - appeared to support the second theory, whilst multiple traces of this exact Nixa we found nearby supported the idea of it being territorial. Either way, any other Nixas we encountered could be equally, if not more, deadly and we did not intend to find out the hard way.
We did find multiple traces of other Nixas nearby - including multiple tiny bones, chewed apart and sucked dry of bone marrow, with not a single ounce of flesh left on them, as well as footsteps of Nixas traveling in small groups. We also found some creatures gall bladder, carefully ripped out of the body by a Nixa before the rest was eaten. We rarely left the safety Bob provided, and when we did to take a sample, we staid in a small radius and made sure everyone was equipped with guns and flamethrowers and plasmaweapons - we were taking no chances anymore.
Since we had found no traces of Nixas before and suddenly there were hundreds of signs of Nixa activity now, we assumed we had stumbled right into their hunting grounds. This meant that, once we left this area, they would likely leave us alone. But until then, we had to be very careful.
The good news was, that the Nixas filled the gaping hole in the food chain we had noticed. The bad news was, that we probably placed lower than them on that chain, and that they knew that very well.
The team was in shambles. Almost loosing Vartek hurt, but maybe being hunted by an entire pack of predators? And not even knowing how many they were, where they could be lurking or whether they actually were hunting us? Now that fucked with our nerves. Mirva was sobbing again, and I really didn’t know how to help her or calm her down. Farlent had not let go of her weapons since Vartek fell asleep again, David and Lim had stayed up all night, Steven had not spoken a single word since and Ortsa began making many mistakes, which was very unusual for her. Not only did she open the wrong door last hour, the hour before that she pressed the buttons to start in the wrong order and almost broke Bobs engine.
None of us blamed her for those tiny mistakes, since the nerves made all of us less competent, but she clearly blamed herself plenty.
Usually, I knew how to calm them down, how to keep the team happy, but right now? I couldn’t even calm myself.
I was so deep in thought, so focused on our shitty situation, that I didn’t even notice Mirva was talking, until she repeated herself:
“Mike? Hey, Mike? Please, Mike, listen to me… Mike?“
“Huh? Sorry Mirva, I was… stuck in some mental loop… how are you?“
“Scared… terrified really. Are you really sure those monsters can’t get to us here? I mean, they were smart enough to wait for the moment we were all distracted before attacking Vartek!“
I was not sure, but I didn’t have the heart to tell here that. Not that I wanted to lie to her, either, but the truth would just be cruel at this point.
“Don’t worry. They can’t harm us. Because they aren’t monsters, just animals. Smart, dangerous animals sure, but animals nonetheless. They want to live and they want to avoid being hurt and thus they would never be insane enough to attack us. Not while we are all armed, together and sitting inside a moving fortress with rocket launchers, energy weapons and grenade proof armor. And even if they tried, Bob would protect us. He is a good truck and he got a lot of tricks up his sleeve. And even if all else fails, you don’t have to worry. Because I am here and I will protect you!“
Mirva took a deep breath, my words seemed to work, but she wasn’t quite convinced yet.
“Because that is your job?“
I chuckled and hugged her.
“No. Because you are my friend!“
Mirva smiled nervously - she actually smiled like a human, oh my god that is so cute - and her horizontal pupils got a little smaller, as she slightly calmed down. But then she shot the sleeping Vartek a sad glance.
“I am sorry I couldn’t save Vartek. I was out there and I should have stopped that Nixa, but I was too weak, too scared.“
I grabbed her by the shoulders.
“No, you are not weak. I saw you out there, standing in front of Jane, making sure that the Nixa didn’t kill her as well. Without you, we could have lost her, you hear me? That wasn’t weak, that was brave!“
I thought that were the right words to make her feel good, but something went wrong. As I said brave she suddenly recoiled and for a split second she was looking of into the distance as if she wasn’t even aware I existed anymore. I had no clue what just happened, but it probably wasn’t good. Therefore I quickly rephrased:
“Err… I meant to say you did a really good job there. Thank you for saving Jane!“
Mirva shook her head as if she had just woken up, than she gave me a proud wave with her tail.
“You’re welcome! It always feels good to do what’s right. Even though I still wish I could have helped Vartek… anyways, thanks for this talk, Mike. It really helped!“
She hugged me again and walked of.
Well, that was weird.
I looked around and saw that, since the last time I checked about an hour ago, most of the team had fallen asleep now. Including Farlent, which meant no one had had their eyes on the road for the last few minutes. Fuck.
I wipped my head around just in time to see three Nixas, with their eyes locked right on me, jumping away immediately after seeing me snap around.
And whoosh, they were gone. Hiding behind some rocks, presumably.
Or was I getting so tired I had started hallucinating?

Hi all,
Folks familiar with the history of the cannabis in the U.S. already know about Harry J. Anslinger (HA), head of the Bureau of Narcotics from the 1930s-60s. More than any single individual, he lead the charge to criminalize cannabis and deployed all manner of moral panic rhetoric — including playing on racist fears — to achieve his goals. This is all mostly in the public record: articles he wrote, testimonies he gave, policy papers he authored, etc.
In particular, when people write about HA — and he's gotten a lot of attention over the past 30 years of the legalization movement — there are two quotes attributed to him that come up all the time:

"Reefer makes darkies think they’re as good as white men.”
“There are 100,000 total marijuana smokers in the U.S., and most are Negroes, Hispanics, Filipinos and entertainers. Their Satanic music, jazz and swing result from marijuana use. This marijuana causes white women to seek sexual relations with Negroes, entertainers and any others.”

Now...if you've read Anslinger's writing/testimonies, thematically, these seem plausible. He definitely engaged in sensationalist rhetoric at times (read his 1938 article for American Magazine, "Marijuana: Assassin of Youth").
However, plausibility aside, neither of these two quotes seem to have a confirmable, original source.
This is despite the fact that they've been quoted dozens of times in both scholarly and journalistic articles (one of the most frequently cited is this 2008 CBS News editorial, but it doesn't have a citation for the quotes).
Almost every single citation I've been able to find points to a secondary source and those secondary sources usually point to a different secondary source, if they have a citation at all.[1]
All of this suggests that one or both of these quotes are either misattributions (someone else said/wrote them but they got attached to HA somehow) or even fabrications.
(To be clear: I have no interested in rehabilitating the image of HA. His confirmable, public writing/testimonies and the legacy of his policies are damning enough. But as a scholar and journalist, I'm fascinated by how quote misattributions and how they achieve of life unto themselves.)
I'm seeing if the Reddit Trees community might be able to shed some light on where these quotes first appeared or how they became treated as fact?
From what I can tell, it may have been in Jack Herer's 1990 book Hemp and the Marijuana Conspiracy: The Emperor Wears No Clothes (and an early version of the manuscript was submitted to 1987 Mail Order Drug Paraphernalia Control Act hearings. The "100,000 total marijuana users" quote appears here, intact, as Herer claims it was part of Anslinger's 1937 testimony to Congress to decide the Marijuana Tax Act (the actual testimonies from those hearings do not contain this quote or anything remotely like it).
Likewise, Herer also includes this statement in the book:

To the D.A> and Public Safety Commissioners and New Orleans newspapers from 12910 through the 1930s, marijuana's insidious evil influence apparently manifested itself in making the "darkies" think they were as good as "white men".

But that is not attributed to HA at all and moreover, that's Herer's words; he's not quoting the "darkies think they were as good as white men" line from any one person.
So I'm pretty sure the "darkies" quote was a misattribution where someone read Herer's book, took that line and turned it into a quote, and then assigned the quote to HA.
I don't know where the "100,000 total marijuana users" came from though; Herer includes no citation for it and as I said: it's not in any Congressional testimony I can find that HA gave in 1937 (or any other year). If anyone can find an earlier version of this quote (pre-Herer), I'd love to find it.
[1] The only primary source I've ever seen for the "100,000 total marijuana users" quote is from a 2004 book about the legalization of marijuana but it says the quote was found in the "Musicians" folder (aka gore file) held at Penn State's Anslinger papers collection. I've seen the entire file and the quote isn't in there. I've also spoken to two scholars who've written about the Anslinger papers and neither of them can confirm that the quote exists in those files either.

I (34F) have been with my wife (32mtf) for 14 years, married for over 8. Last June she came out as a transgender woman and has been on hormone therapy since July; I have supported her throughout her transition.
She was feeling distant for a while so a couple months ago I confronted her. she told me she felt like we've been disconnected romantically and physically and that it feels more like a friendship. She said wasn't happy with her life (her career was very important to her and she's was out of work for 4 years, she just got back to work this month) and that she didn't feel like she can evaluate the marriage right now from that position. I felt broken and terrified to lose her, but also motivated to work on our relationship and make us stronger.
I did a lot of things to focus on our relationship. I planned dates to new locations or activities. I was more spontaneous and willing to go with the flow. I touched her more, reaching out for hugs and cuddles and kisses any time the opportunity arose. But a couple weeks after our first conversation, she told me she no longer wanted to be with me and that she had feelings for another woman (22 mtf) that she met at one of her trans support groups. We went to a counseling session and ultimately decided on an unconventional path of giving her some time to explore who she is as a woman outside of our marriage, while also continuing to work on our relationship. I didn't love it but honestly I was looking for any hope to grab onto to avoid a divorce.
Since then things have been good between us when we spend time together, but I still feel her slipping away. The pain of seeing her pursue someone else has also become too much to bear. On Tuesday she told me they are also thinking about introducing a third trans woman into their relationship, and something in me broke - she has energy and emotional availability to pour into two relationships, but not one with me? At that point I told her she needed to move out because this situation wasn't healthy for me anymore.
I am completely heartbroken. We have been together for 13 years, married for 8. We have been together through so many hard times, and I know I didn't do everything right, but I always loved her and had her back. I supported through legal troubles, family estrangement, mental health struggles, job losses, financial stresses, and most recently, her coming out process and transition. I do all the dog walking and pretty much all of the housework. I have completely financially supported us for the last 4 years. I bought her her first makeup and femme clothes, sat with her when she gave herself her first hormone injection, taught her everything I know (admittedly not very much) about makeup, went out with her the first time she went out in public presenting femme...I held her hand through all of it.
I also feel like she has underestimated what the effects of being out of work for 4 years and going through a pandemic in a new city have had on our dynamic - I really believed that as we started going out and about together more, and when she got back to work and felt more like herself again, that we would be able to have more of a true equal partnership and we would feel more like we used to. Now I feel like I propped her up for years when she couldn't stand on her own, but as soon as she could hold her own, she left for greener pastures. I feel hurt, betrayed, worthless, rejected, angry, and so very alone.
I'm finding it impossible to imagine a future that isn't lonely and full of grief. I know other people get through the end of a relationship and are okay, but my brain keeps telling me that they are better or stronger or more loveable than I am, and that I won't have a happy ending - either by myself or with someone else. I'm in therapy, going to a women's group twice a month for more support, journaling most days, getting outside with my dog every day, taking a yoga class, and keep pushing myself to meet new people, but those things provide at most temporary relief and aren't impacting my mindset overall.
I know grief is normal and it's going to take a long time to get over a relationship that's lasted almost half of my life, but y'all...I need help. I feel like I'm hanging on by a thread and the only way I'm putting one foot in front of the other is sheer momentum. Please, help me believe there can be happiness on the other side?

I exercise most days of the week and wear exercise clothing that are made mostly of recycled plastics (I’ve received gifts of clothing that are from the big brands like Balance, Lulu Lemon, etc. which don’t do recycled plastics), and while almost all of my clothes are made of natural fibers, none of my exercise clothing is. Due to having to wash the exercise clothing after each use (and please don’t say I don’t need to, for many reasons it is necessary), I’m concerned about the microplastics being created when I wash the clothing. But, I also don’t want to buy more when I have plenty already.
Any thoughts?