Review Detail of Ivair in Winds of Change (DxD)

Yes every drama in every fictional work is useless. Great way at looking at things, this site is full of incels like you.

Ok retard.

Incel alert, how about you get a gun and do the world a favour. This super nyugga here never wrote or done anything significant with his life kekw.

Another little nyuggah molested as a. child kekw.

She sat deep in thought. The next word that came out o her mouth would likely be the most important word of her life. It had to be exact with no possibility of being misinterpreted. She was ready. She looked deeply into his eyes and said, "Octopus." Her breath exited her mouth in big puffs as if she were smoking a cigarette. The morning dew had made her clothes damp and she shivered from the chill in the air. There was only one thing that could get her up and out this early in the morning. He heard the song coming from a distance, lightly floating over the air to his ears. Although it was soft and calming, he was wary. It seemed a little too soft and a little too calming for everything that was going on. He wanted it to be nothing more than beautiful music coming from the innocent and pure joy of singing, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was likely some type of trap. I'm going to hire professional help tomorrow. I can't handle this anymore. She fell over the coffee table and now there is blood in her catheter. This is much more than I ever signed up to do. It probably seemed trivial to most people, but it mattered to Tracey. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, but she understood deep within her being that it mattered to her. So for the 365th day in a row, Tracey sat down to eat pancakes for breakfast. She's asked the question so many times that she barely listened to the answers anymore. The answers were always the same. Well, not exactly the same, but the same in a general sense. A more accurate description was the answers never surprised her. So, she asked for the 10,000th time, "What's your favorite animal?" But this time was different. When she heard the young boy's answer, she wondered if she had heard him correctly. There were little things that she simply could not stand. The sound of someone tapping their nails on the table. A person chewing with their mouth open. Another human imposing themselves into her space. She couldn't stand any of these things, but none of them compared to the number one thing she couldn't stand which topped all of them combined. "Can I get you anything else?" David asked. It was a question he asked a hundred times a day and he always received the same answer. It had become such an ingrained part of his daily routine that he had to step back and actively think when he heard the little girl's reply. Nobody had before answered the question the way that she did, and David didn't know how he should respond. MaryLou wore the tiara with pride. There was something that made doing anything she didn't really want to do a bit easier when she wore it. She really didn't care what those staring through the window were thinking as she vacuumed her apartment. It was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see. It all started with a random letter. Several of those were joined forces to create a random word. The words decided to get together and form a random sentence. They decided not to stop there and it wasn't long before a random paragraph had been cobbled together. The question was whether or not they could continue the momentum long enough to create a random short story. Debbie put her hand into the hole, sliding her hand down as far as her arm could reach. She wiggled her fingers hoping to touch something, but all she felt was air. She shifted the weight of her body to try and reach an inch or two more down the hole. Her fingers still touched nothing but air. There was nothing to indicate Nancy was going to change the world. She looked like an average girl going to an average high school. It was the fact that everything about her seemed average that would end up becoming her superpower. He took a sip of the drink. He wasn't sure whether he liked it or not, but at this

It was easy to spot her. All you needed to do was look at her socks. They were never a matching pair. One would be green while the other would be blue. One would reach her knee while the other barely touched her ankle. Every other part of her was perfect, but never the socks. They were her micro act of rebellion. She was aware that things could go wrong. In fact, she had trained her entire life in anticipation that things would go wrong one day. She had quiet confidence as she started to see that this was the day that all her training would be worthwhile and useful. At this point, she had no idea just how wrong everything would go that day. It wasn't supposed to end that way. The plan had been meticulously thought out and practiced again and again. There was only one possible result once it had been implemented, but as they stood there the result wasn't anything close to what it should have been. They all blankly looked at each wondering how this could have happened. In their minds, they all began to blame the other members of the group as to why they had failed. It was the best compliment that he'd ever received although the person who gave it likely never knew. It had been an off-hand observation on his ability to hold a conversation and actually add pertinent information to it on practically any topic. Although he hadn't consciously strived to be able to do so, he'd started to voraciously read the news when he couldn't keep up on topics his friends discussed because their conversations went above his head. The fact that someone had noticed enough to compliment him that he could talk intelligently about many topics meant that he had succeeded in his quest to be better informed. Things aren't going well at all with mom today. She is just a limp noodle and wants to sleep all the time. I sure hope that things get better soon. She tried to explain that love wasn't like pie. There wasn't a set number of slices to be given out. There wasn't less to be given to one person if you wanted to give more to another. That after a set amount was given out it would all disappear. She tried to explain this, but it fell on deaf ears. The bowl was filled with fruit. It seemed to be an overabundance of strawberries, but it also included blueberries, raspberries, grapes, and banana slices. This was the meal Sarah had every morning to start her day since she could remember. Why she decided to add chocolate as an option today was still a bit of a surprise, but she had been in the process of deciding she wanted to change her routine. This was a baby step to begin that start. Debbie put her hand into the hole, sliding her hand down as far as her arm could reach. She wiggled her fingers hoping to touch something, but all she felt was air. She shifted the weight of her body to try and reach an inch or two more down the hole. Her fingers still touched nothing but air. The alarm went off at exactly 6:00 AM as it had every morning for the past five years. Barbara began her morning and was ready to eat breakfast by 7:00 AM. The day appeared to be as normal as any other, but that was about to change. In fact, it was going to change at exactly 7:23 AM. Was it a whisper or was it the wind? He wasn't quite sure. He thought he heard a voice but at this moment all he could hear was the wind rustling the leaves of the trees all around him. He stopped and listened more intently to see if he could hear the voice again. Nothing but the wind rustling the leaves could be heard. He was about to continue his walk when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he quickly turned to see who it was. There was nobody there, but he heard the voice again. She glanced up into the sky to watch the clouds taking shape. First, she saw a dog. Next, it was an elephant. Finally, she saw a giant umbrella and at that moment the rain began to pour. She had come to the conclusion that you could tell a lot about a person by their ears. The way they stuck out and the size of the earlobes could

The time to take action was now. All three men knew in their hearts this was the case, yet none of them moved a muscle to try. They were all watching and waiting for one of the others to make the first move so they could follow a step or two behind and help. The situation demanded a leader and all three men were followers. The amber droplet hung from the branch, reaching fullness and ready to drop. It waited. While many of the other droplets were satisfied to form as big as they could and release, this droplet had other plans. It wanted to be part of history. It wanted to be remembered long after all the other droplets had dissolved into history. So it waited for the perfect specimen to fly by to trap and capture that it hoped would eventually be discovered hundreds of years in the future. You can decide what you want to do in life, but I suggest doing something that creates. Something that leaves a tangible thing once you're done. That way even after you're gone, you will still live on in the things you created. He watched as the young man tried to impress everyone in the room with his intelligence. There was no doubt that he was smart. The fact that he was more intelligent than anyone else in the room could have been easily deduced, but nobody was really paying any attention due to the fact that it was also obvious that the young man only cared about his intelligence. After hunting for several hours, we finally saw a large seal sunning itself on a flat rock. I took one of the wooden clubs while Larry took the longer one. We slowly snuck up behind the seal until we were close enough to club it over its head. The seal slumped over and died. This seal would help us survive. We could eat the meat and fat. The fat could be burned in a shell for light and the fur could be used to make a blanket. We declared our first day of hunting a great success. What have you noticed today? I noticed that if you outline the eyes, nose, and mouth on your face with your finger, you make an "I" which makes perfect sense, but is something I never noticed before. What have you noticed today? The blinking light caught her attention. She thought about it a bit and couldn't remember ever noticing it before. That was strange since it was obvious the flashing light had been there for years. Now she wondered how she missed it for that amount of time and what other things in her small town she had failed to notice. Matt told her to reach for the stars, but Veronica thought it was the most ridiculous advice she'd ever received. Sure, it had been well-meaning when he said it, but she didn't understand why anyone would want to suggest something that would literally kill you if you actually managed to achieve it. He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a sip of the drink. He had tasted this before, but he couldn't quite remember the time and place it had happened. He desperately searched his mind trying to locate and remember where he had tasted this when the bicycle ran over his foot. He scolded himself for being so tentative. He knew he shouldn't be so cautious, but there was a sixth sense telling him that things weren't exactly as they appeared. It was that weird chill that rolls up your neck and makes the hair stand on end. He knew that being so tentative could end up costing him the job, but he learned that listening to his sixth sense usually kept him from getting into a lot of trouble. The boxed moved. That was a problem. Peter had packed the box three hours before and there was nothing inside that should make it move. The question now was whether or not Peter was going to open it up and look inside to see why it had moved. The answer to that question was obvious. Peter dropped the package into the mailbox so he would never have to see it again. She wanted rainbow hair. That's what she told the hairdresser. It should be deep rainbow colors, too. She wasn't interested in pastel rainbow hair. She wanted it deep and vibrant so there was no doubt that she

t was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see. My pincher collar is snapped on. Then comes the electric zapper collar. Finally, my purple at-home collar is taken off and I know I’m going for a walk to the dog park. I’m so excited to see my friends. I hope Spike or Thunder are there already. They're the most fun to chase and tumble with. My human is pretty strict with me. I’m only allowed on the grass and not on the sidewalks. I think she’s afraid I’m going to jump on the other humans. I don’t understand why everyone else gets to jump on the benches and run wild on the sidewalks. They don’t listen to their humans. I know I could ignore mine but if I do she may zap me and it’s just not worth it. She probably wouldn’t let me back at the dog park if I didn’t listen to her. I just love the dog park. Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try. It was a question of which of the two she preferred. On the one hand, the choice seemed simple. The more expensive one with a brand name would be the choice of most. It was the easy choice. The safe choice. But she wasn't sure she actually preferred it. What was beyond the bend in the stream was unknown. Both were curious, but only one was brave enough to want to explore. That was the problem. There was always one that let fear rule her life. It was a scrape that he hardly noticed. Sure, there was a bit of blood but it was minor compared to most of the other cuts and bruises he acquired on his adventures. There was no way he could know that the rock that produced the cut had alien genetic material on it that was now racing through his bloodstream. He felt perfectly normal and continued his adventure with no knowledge of what was about to happen to him. They had always called it the green river. It made sense. The river was green. The river likely had a different official name, but to everyone in town, it was and had always been the green river. So it was with great surprise that on this day the green river was a fluorescent pink. I'm so confused by your ridiculous meltdown that I must insist on some sort of explanation for your behavior towards me. It just doesn't make any sense. There's no way that I deserved the treatment you gave me without an explanation or an apology for how out of line you have been. Dave watched as the forest burned up on the hill, only a few miles from her house. The car had been hastily packed and Marta was inside trying to round up the last of the pets. Dave went through his mental list of the most important papers and documents that they couldn't leave behind. He scolded himself for not having prepared these better in advance and hoped that he had remembered everything that was needed. He continued to wait for Marta to appear with the pets, but she still was nowhere to be seen. The headache wouldn't go away. She's taken medicine but even that didn't help. The monstrous throbbing in her head continued. She had this happen to her only once before in her life and she realized that only one thing could be happening. It really didn't matter what they did to him. He's already made up his mind. Whatever came his way, he was prepared for the consequences. He knew in his heart that the sacrifice he made was done with love and not hate no matter how others decided to spin it. It

He had done everything right. There had been no mistakes throughout the entire process. It had been perfection and he knew it without a doubt, but the results still stared back at him with the fact that he had lost. He wandered down the stairs and into the basement. The damp, musty smell of unuse hung in the air. A single, small window let in a glimmer of light, but this simply made the shadows in the basement deeper. He inhaled deeply and looked around at a mess that had been accumulating for over 25 years. He was positive that this was the place he wanted to live. Twenty seconds were all that was left and Richard could hear each one tick by. Fifteen seconds now remained and the panic began to fully set in. Ten seconds and he wasn't sure he had enough time. Five seconds, four, three, two, one... There were little things that she simply could not stand. The sound of someone tapping their nails on the table. A person chewing with their mouth open. Another human imposing themselves into her space. She couldn't stand any of these things, but none of them compared to the number one thing she couldn't stand which topped all of them combined. The river slowly meandered through the open space. It had hidden secrets that it didn't want to reveal. It had a well-planned strategy to appear calm, inviting, and appealing. That's how the river lured her unknowing victims to her water's edge. The piano sat silently in the corner of the room. Nobody could remember the last time it had been played. The little girl walked up to it and hit a few of the keys. The sound of the piano rang throughout the house for the first time in years. In the upstairs room, confined to her bed, the owner of the house had tears in her eyes. He heard the loud impact before he ever saw the result. It had been so loud that it had actually made him jump back in his seat. As soon as he recovered from the surprise, he saw the crack in the windshield. It seemed to be an analogy of the current condition of his life. Do you think you're living an ordinary life? You are so mistaken it's difficult to even explain. The mere fact that you exist makes you extraordinary. The odds of you existing are less than winning the lottery, but here you are. Are you going to let this extraordinary opportunity pass? There was something in the sky. What exactly was up there wasn't immediately clear. But there was definitely something in the sky and it was getting bigger and bigger. Her hair was a tangled mess which she tried to make presentable by putting in a lump on the top of her head. It didn't really work although it was a valiant attempt. While most people simply noticed the tangled mess on top of her head, what most people failed to understand that within the tangles mess was an entirely new year. That was her secret. She kept worlds on top of her head. She tried not to judge him. His ratty clothes and unkempt hair made him look homeless. Was he really the next Einstein as she had been told? On the off chance it was true, she continued to try not to judge him. It had been a simple realization that had changed Debra's life perspective. It was really so simple that she was embarrassed that she had lived the previous five years with the way she measured her worth. Now that she saw what she had been doing, she could see how sad it was. That made her all the more relieved she had made the change. The number of hearts her Instagram posts received wasn't any longer the indication of her own self-worth. I don’t like cats and they don’t like me. I used to be allergic to them and I would get stuffed up and have hives. That doesn’t seem to happen anymore. But I still don’t like them. I lived with 3 cats that were not good at peeing in the litter box. They seemed to find something important to me and pee on it. Most of the time they peed on photographs or papers that would be ruined. Cats also bring fleas into the house. There is nothing worse than having to flea dip cats and also flea bomb a hom

Cake or pie? I can tell a lot about you by which one you pick. It may seem silly, but cake people and pie people are really different. I know which one I hope you are, but that's not for me to decide. So, what is it? Cake or pie? To the two friends, the treehouse was much more than a treehouse. It was a sanctuary away from the other kids where they could be themselves without being teased or bullied. It was their secret fortress hidden high in the branches of a huge oak that only they knew existed. At least that is what they thought. They were more than a little annoyed when their two younger sisters decided to turn the treehouse into a princess castle by painting the inside pink and putting glitter everywhere. The irony of the situation hadn't escaped her. She had taken years to sculpt the perfect persona with the perfect look that she shared on Instagram. She knew her hundreds of thousands of followers envied that life she showed and stayed engaged with her because they wanted that life too. The truth was that she wanted the perfect life she portrayed more than any of her fans. The fact was that despite all the perfection she shared on social media, her life was actually more of a mess than most. It went through such rapid contortions that the little bear was forced to change his hold on it so many times he became confused in the darkness, and could not, for the life of him, tell whether he held the sheep right side up, or upside down. But that point was decided for him a moment later by the animal itself, who, with a sudden twist, jabbed its horns so hard into his lowest ribs that he gave a grunt of anger and disgust. They had no proof. He knew that they knew he had done it but they didn't have any proof. It was a huge distinction and it was the difference between him keeping his freedom or being locked away for decades. They continued to question him, probing him for information that they could use against him or find the proof they needed to put him away. He smiled and continued to block their every inquiry by feigning his innocence for a crime they all knew he committed. There were about twenty people on the dam. Most of them were simply walking and getting exercise. There were a few who were fishing. There was a family who had laid down a blanket and they were having a picnic. It was like this most days and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The problem was that nobody noticed the water leaking through the dam wall. He read about a hike called the incline in the guidebook. It said it was a strenuous hike and to bring plenty of water. “A beautiful hike to the clouds” described one review. “Not for the faint-hearted,” said another. “Not too bad of a workout”, bragged a third review. I thought I’d hike it when I fly in from Maryland on my day off from the senior citizen's wellness conference. I hiked 2 miles a day around the neighborhood so I could handle a 1.1-mile hike. What a foolish mistake that was for a 70-year-old low-lander. She had a terrible habit o comparing her life to others. She realized that their life experiences were completely different than her own and that she saw only what they wanted her to see, but that didn't matter. She still compared herself and yearned for what she thought they had and she didn't. I recently discovered I could make fudge with just chocolate chips, sweetened condensed milk, vanilla extract, and a thick pot on slow heat. I tried it with dark chocolate chunks and I tried it with semi-sweet chocolate chips. It's better with both kinds. It comes out pretty bad with just the dark chocolate. The best add-ins are crushed almonds and marshmallows -- what you get from that is Rocky Road. It takes about twenty minutes from start to fridge, and then it takes about six months to work off the twenty pounds you gain from eating it. All things in moderation, friends. All things in moderation. Finding the truth wouldn't be easy, that's for sure. Then there was the question of whether or not Jane

There wasn't a bird in the sky, but that was not what caught her attention. It was the clouds. The deep green that isn't the color of clouds, but came with these. She knew what was coming and she hoped she was prepared. It was cloudy outside but not really raining. There was a light sprinkle at most and there certainly wasn't a need for an umbrella. This hadn't stopped Sarah from pulling her umbrella out and opening it. It had nothing to do with the weather or the potential rain later that day. Sarah used the umbrella to hide. She looked at her little girl who was about to become a teen. She tried to think back to when the girl had been younger but failed to pinpoint the exact moment when she had become a little too big to pick up and carry. It hit her all at once. She was no longer a little girl and she stood there speechless with fear, sadness, and pride all running through her at the same time. Terrance knew that sometimes it was simply best to stay out of it. He kept repeating this to himself as he watched the scene unfold. He knew that nothing good would come of him getting involved. It was far better for him to stay on the sidelines and observe. He kept yelling this to himself inside his head as he walked over to the couple and punched the man in the face. She nervously peered over the edge. She understood in her mind that the view was supposed to be beautiful, but all she felt was fear. There had always been something about heights that disturbed her, and now she could feel the full force of this unease. She reluctantly crept a little closer with the encouragement of her friends as the fear continued to build. She couldn't help but feel that something horrible was about to happen. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't give her a good explanation about what had happened. It didn't even really make sense to him. All he knew was that he froze at the moment and no matter how hard he tried to react, nothing in his body allowed him to move. It was as if he had instantly become a statue and although he could see what was taking place, he couldn't move to intervene. He knew that wasn't a satisfactory explanation even though it was the truth. He read about a hike called the incline in the guidebook. It said it was a strenuous hike and to bring plenty of water. “A beautiful hike to the clouds” described one review. “Not for the faint-hearted,” said another. “Not too bad of a workout”, bragged a third review. I thought I’d hike it when I fly in from Maryland on my day off from the senior citizen's wellness conference. I hiked 2 miles a day around the neighborhood so I could handle a 1.1-mile hike. What a foolish mistake that was for a 70-year-old low-lander. The coin hovered in the air, spinning over and over again. It reached its peak and began to descend. Both boys were pleading with it to land a certain way but the coin had already made up its mind on what it was going to do. Betty decided to write a short story and she was sure it was going to be amazing. She had already written it in her head and each time she thought about it she grinned from ear to ear knowing how wonderful it would be. She could imagine the accolades coming in and the praise she would receive for creating such a wonderful piece. She was therefore extremely frustrated when she actually sat down to write the short story and the story that was so beautiful inside her head refused to come out that way on paper. He dropped the ball. While most people would think that this was a metaphor of some type, in Joe's case it was absolutely literal. He had hopes of reaching the Major League and that dream was now it great jeopardy. All because he had dropped the ball. There once lived an old man and an old woman who were peasants and had to work hard to earn their daily bread. The old man used to go to fix fences and do other odd jobs for the farmers around, and while he was gone the old woman, his wife, did the work of the house and worked in their own little plot o

Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try. The choice was red, green, or blue. It didn't seem like an important choice when he was making it, but it was a choice nonetheless. Had he known the consequences at that time, he would likely have considered the choice a bit longer. In the end, he didn't and ended up choosing blue. I recently discovered I could make fudge with just chocolate chips, sweetened condensed milk, vanilla extract, and a thick pot on slow heat. I tried it with dark chocolate chunks and I tried it with semi-sweet chocolate chips. It's better with both kinds. It comes out pretty bad with just the dark chocolate. The best add-ins are crushed almonds and marshmallows -- what you get from that is Rocky Road. It takes about twenty minutes from start to fridge, and then it takes about six months to work off the twenty pounds you gain from eating it. All things in moderation, friends. All things in moderation. The shoes had been there for as long as anyone could remember. In fact, it was difficult for anyone to come up with a date they had first appeared. It had seemed they'd always been there and yet they seemed so out of place. Why nobody had removed them was a question that had been asked time and again, but while they all thought it, nobody had ever found the energy to actually do it. So, the shoes remained on the steps, out of place in one sense, but perfectly normal in another. There was no time. He ran out of the door without half the stuff he needed for work, but it didn't matter. He was late and if he didn't make this meeting on time, someone's life may be in danger. The headphones were on. They had been utilized on purpose. She could hear her mom yelling in the background, but couldn't make out exactly what the yelling was about. That was exactly why she had put them on. She knew her mom would enter her room at any minute, and she could pretend that she hadn't heard any of the previous yelling. The picket fence had stood for years without any issue. That's all it was. A simple, white, picket fence. Why it had all of a sudden become a lightning rod within the community was still unbelievable to most. Yet a community that had once lived in harmony was now divided in bitter hatred and it had everything to do with the white picket fence. He was aware there were numerous wonders of this world including the unexplained creations of humankind that showed the wonder of our ingenuity. There are huge heads on Easter Island. There are the Egyptian pyramids. There’s Stonehenge. But he now stood in front of a newly discovered monument that simply didn't make any sense and he wondered how he was ever going to be able to explain it. He dropped the ball. While most people would think that this was a metaphor of some type, in Joe's case it was absolutely literal. He had hopes of reaching the Major League and that dream was now it great jeopardy. All because he had dropped the ball. Life isn't always beautiful. That was a lesson that Dan was learning. He also realized that life wasn't easy. This had come as a shock since he had lived a charmed life. He hated that this was the truth and he struggled to be happy knowing that his assumptions weren't correct. He wouldn't realize until much later in life that the difficult obstacles he was facing that were taking away the beauty in his life at this moment would ultimately make his life much more beautiful. All he knew was that at this moment was that life isn't always beautiful.

He looked at the sand. Picking up a handful, he wondered how many grains were in his hand. Hundreds of thousands? "Not enough," the said under his breath. I need more. It was their first date and she had been looking forward to it the entire week. She had her eyes on him for months, and it had taken a convoluted scheme with several friends to make it happen, but he'd finally taken the hint and asked her out. After all the time and effort she'd invested into it, she never thought that it would be anything but wonderful. It goes without saying that things didn't work out quite as she expected. Debbie put her hand into the hole, sliding her hand down as far as her arm could reach. She wiggled her fingers hoping to touch something, but all she felt was air. She shifted the weight of her body to try and reach an inch or two more down the hole. Her fingers still touched nothing but air. The chair sat in the corner where it had been for over 25 years. The only difference was there was someone actually sitting in it. How long had it been since someone had done that? Ten years or more he imagined. Yet there was no denying the presence in the chair now. He wondered if he should disclose the truth to his friends. It would be a risky move. Yes, the truth would make things a lot easier if they all stayed on the same page, but the truth might fracture the group leaving everything in even more of a mess than it was not telling the truth. It was time to decide which way to go. Green vines attached to the trunk of the tree had wound themselves toward the top of the canopy. Ants used the vine as their private highway, avoiding all the creases and crags of the bark, to freely move at top speed from top to bottom or bottom to top depending on their current chore. At least this was the way it was supposed to be. Something had damaged the vine overnight halfway up the tree leaving a gap in the once pristine ant highway. If you can imagine a furry humanoid seven feet tall, with the face of an intelligent gorilla and the braincase of a man, you'll have a rough idea of what they looked like -- except for their teeth. The canines would have fitted better in the face of a tiger, and showed at the corners of their wide, thin-lipped mouths, giving them an expression of ferocity. He ordered his regular breakfast. Two eggs sunnyside up, hash browns, and two strips of bacon. He continued to look at the menu wondering if this would be the day he added something new. This was also part of the routine. A few seconds of hesitation to see if something else would be added to the order before demuring and saying that would be all. It was the same exact meal that he had ordered every day for the past two years. There are only three ways to make this work. The first is to let me take care of everything. The second is for you to take care of everything. The third is to split everything 50 / 50. I think the last option is the most preferable, but I'm certain it'll also mean the end of our marriage. She counted. One. She could hear the steps coming closer. Two. Puffs of breath could be seen coming from his mouth. Three. He stopped beside her. Four. She pulled the trigger of the gun.

Since they are still preserved in the rocks for us to see, they must have been formed quite recently, that is, geologically speaking. What can explain these striations and their common orientation? Did you ever hear about the Great Ice Age or the Pleistocene Epoch? Less than one million years ago, in fact, some 12,000 years ago, an ice sheet many thousands of feet thick rode over Burke Mountain in a southeastward direction. The many boulders frozen to the underside of the ice sheet tended to scratch the rocks over which they rode. The scratches or striations seen in the park rocks were caused by these attached boulders. The ice sheet also plucked and rounded Burke Mountain into the shape it possesses today. You're going to make a choice today that will have a direct impact on where you are five years from now. The truth is, you'll make choice like that every day of your life. The problem is that on most days, you won't know the choice you make will have such a huge impact on your life in the future. So if you want to end up in a certain place in the future, you need to be careful of the choices you make today. Bryan had made peace with himself and felt comfortable with the choices he made. This had made all the difference in the world. Being alone no longer bothered him and this was essential since there was a good chance he might spend the rest of his life alone in a cell. They told her that this was her once chance to show the world what she was made of. She believed them at the time. It was the big stage and she knew the world would be there to see. The only one who had disagreed with this sentiment was her brother. He had told her that you don't show the world what you're made of when they are all watching, you show that in your actions when nobody was looking. It was looking more and more like her brother was correct. I'm meant to be writing at this moment. What I mean is, I'm meant to be writing something else at this moment. The document I'm meant to be writing is, of course, open in another program on my computer and is patiently awaiting my attention. Yet here I am plonking down senseless sentiments in this paragraph because it's easier to do than to work on anything particularly meaningful. I am grateful for the distraction. Terrance knew that sometimes it was simply best to stay out of it. He kept repeating this to himself as he watched the scene unfold. He knew that nothing good would come of him getting involved. It was far better for him to stay on the sidelines and observe. He kept yelling this to himself inside his head as he walked over to the couple and punched the man in the face. They rushed out the door, grabbing anything and everything they could think of they might need. There was no time to double-check to make sure they weren't leaving something important behind. Everything was thrown into the car and they sped off. Thirty minutes later they were safe and that was when it dawned on them that they had forgotten the most important thing of all. According to the caption on the bronze marker placed by the Multnomah Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution on May 12, 1939, “College Hall (is) the oldest building in continuous use for Educational purposes west of the Rocky Mountains. Here were educated men and women who have won recognition throughout the world in all the learned professions.” I've rented a car in Las Vegas and have reserved a hotel in Twentynine Palms which is just north of Joshua Tree. We'll drive from Las Vegas through Mojave National Preserve and possibly do a short hike on our way down. Then spend all day on Monday at Joshua Tree. We can decide the next morning if we want to do more in Joshua Tree or Mojave before we head back. Many people say that life isn't like a bed of roses. I beg to differ. I think that life is quite like a bed of roses. Just like life, a bed of roses looks pretty on the outside, but when you're in it, you find that it is nothing but thorns and pain. I m

36.84043 -82.27065

Terrance knew that sometimes it was simply best to stay out of it. He kept repeating this to himself as he watched the scene unfold. He knew that nothing good would come of him getting involved. It was far better for him to stay on the sidelines and observe. He kept yelling this to himself inside his head as he walked over to the couple and punched the man in the face. It was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see. Josh had spent year and year accumulating the information. He knew it inside out and if there was ever anyone looking for an expert in the field, Josh would be the one to call. The problem was that there was nobody interested in the information besides him and he knew it. Years of information painstakingly memorized and sorted with not a sole giving even an ounce of interest in the topic. If you can imagine a furry humanoid seven feet tall, with the face of an intelligent gorilla and the braincase of a man, you'll have a rough idea of what they looked like -- except for their teeth. The canines would have fitted better in the face of a tiger, and showed at the corners of their wide, thin-lipped mouths, giving them an expression of ferocity. I've rented a car in Las Vegas and have reserved a hotel in Twentynine Palms which is just north of Joshua Tree. We'll drive from Las Vegas through Mojave National Preserve and possibly do a short hike on our way down. Then spend all day on Monday at Joshua Tree. We can decide the next morning if we want to do more in Joshua Tree or Mojave before we head back. She didn't like the food. She never did. She made the usual complaints and started the tantrum he knew was coming. But this time was different. Instead of trying to placate her and her unreasonable demands, he just stared at her and watched her meltdown without saying a word. April seriously wondered about her sleeping partner choices. She looked at her bed and what a mess it had become. How did she get to the point in her life where she had two dogs, three cats, and a raccoon sleeping with her every night? All he wanted was a candy bar. It didn't seem like a difficult request to comprehend, but the clerk remained frozen and didn't seem to want to honor the request. It might have had something to do with the gun pointed at his face. The rain was coming. Everyone thought this would be a good thing. It hadn't rained in months and the earth was dry as a bone. It wasn't a surprise that everyone thought a good rain was what was needed, but they never expected how much rain would actually arrive. It seemed like it should have been so simple. There was nothing inherently difficult with getting the project done. It was simple and straightforward enough that even a child should have been able to complete it on time, but that wasn't the case. The deadline had arrived and the project remained unfinished.

I inadvertently went to See's Candy last week (I was in the mall looking for phone repair), and as it turns out, See's Candy now charges a dollar -- a full dollar -- for even the simplest of their wee confection offerings. I bought two chocolate lollipops and two chocolate-caramel-almond things. The total cost was four-something. I mean, the candies were tasty and all, but let's be real: A Snickers bar is fifty cents. After this dollar-per-candy revelation, I may not find myself wandering dreamily back into a See's Candy any time soon. He collected the plastic trash on a daily basis. It never seemed to end. Even if he cleaned the entire beach, more plastic would cover it the next day after the tide had come in. Although it was a futile effort that would never be done, he continued to pick up the trash each day. The shades were closed keeping the room dark. Peter knew that he should open them and let in the sunlight so he could begin the day, but he didn't have the energy or willpower. Nothing had gone as expected the day before and he no longer wanted to spend the energy to begin a new day. He stared at the shades wondering if there was a way to disappear from the reality of the world for the rest of the day. They had always called it the green river. It made sense. The river was green. The river likely had a different official name, but to everyone in town, it was and had always been the green river. So it was with great surprise that on this day the green river was a fluorescent pink. Housework could be everyone’s work, not just “women’s work”. Why do women enable men to act oblivious to cleaning, grocery shopping, pet feeding, etc? Somehow when men live alone they figure out how to do all of those things all on their own. My friend’s husband claimed he didn’t know that sheets should be washed more than once a season. He said he didn’t know one had to clean toilets. He assumed that since you flush toilets they clean themselves. She tried to get him to help but he did an awful job so she let him off the hook. Wouldn’t it be better if she spent the time and energy to get him to do it right instead of letting him claim he is “just bad at it”. My sons were raised to clean toilets and change their own sheets. Hopefully, in their future homes, the housework will be equally divided. Bryan had made peace with himself and felt comfortable with the choices he made. This had made all the difference in the world. Being alone no longer bothered him and this was essential since there was a good chance he might spend the rest of his life alone in a cell. It's not his fault. I know you're going to want to, but you can't blame him. He really has no idea how it happened. I kept trying to come up with excuses I could say to mom that would keep her calm when she found out what happened, but the more I tried, the more I could see none of them would work. He was going to get her wrath and there was nothing I could say to prevent it. He scolded himself for being so tentative. He knew he shouldn't be so cautious, but there was a sixth sense telling him that things weren't exactly as they appeared. It was that weird chill that rolls up your neck and makes the hair stand on end. He knew that being so tentative could end up costing him the job, but he learned that listening to his sixth sense usually kept him from getting into a lot of trouble. There wasn't a whole lot more that could be done. It had become a wait-and-see situation with the final results no longer in her control. That didn't stop her from trying to control the situation. She demanded that things be done as she desperately tried to control what couldn't be. Sometimes it's simply better to ignore the haters. That's the lesson that Tom's dad had been trying to teach him, but Tom still couldn't let it go. He latched onto them and their hate and couldn't let it go, but he also realized that this wasn't healthy. That's when he came up with his devious plan.

Involuntarily celibate men (Incels) form online communities in which they “often bemoan their lack of a loving relationship with a woman while simultaneously dehumanizing women and calling for misogynistic violence” (Glace et al., 2021, p. 288). Several studies investigate this dehumanization and misogyny including (gendered) hate speech in online comments from Incels (e.g., Glace et al., 2021). However, not all online comments from Incels contain misogyny or gendered hate speech. To get a better understanding of the phenomenon of Incels, it would be better to not only focus on these problematic comments. Thus, we propose a new construct called “Online Incel speech”, which is defined as the sum of all online comments from Incels that are related to Inceldom, that is, being or becoming an Incel. In an approach to provide an extensive system of categorization, Grau Chopite (2022) synthesized codebooks from several studies on Incels (see example studies table note) and put it to an empirical test. She found that most Incel comments found online can be categorized into three subdimensions. The first two subdimensions cover framing by Incels, namely how Incels frame the subjective causes of becoming an Incel and how they frame the subjective emotional consequences of being an Incel. Both subdimensions can also be interpreted as part of a subjective theory (sensu Groeben et al., 1988) of Inceldom. In contrast to this, the third subdimension does not consist of framing, but of observable verbal behaviors, which are often linked to gendered hate speech. When trying to categorize online comments from Incels, former studies often applied the construct “Hybrid Masculinities” (e.g., Glace et al, 2021). This construct from Bridge and Pascoe (2014) suggests that “some men develop masculinities which appear to subvert, but actually reaffirm, White hegemonic masculinities” (Glace et al., 2021, p. 289). Glace et al. (2021) structure the construct into three subdimensions, namely (1) discursive distancing (claiming distance from hegemonic masculine roles without actually relinquishing masculine power), (2) strategic borrowing (appropriating the cultures of nondominant groups of men), and (3) fortifying boundaries (continually using hegemonic standards to constrain masculinity and demeaning men who fail to meet them). However, the construct only covers a part of Inceldom, which Glace et al. (2021) indirectly acknowledge by adding two inductive categories, that is, hostile sexism (shaming and degrading women) and suicidality (reporting suicidal thoughts, feelings, and intentions).

The construct “Online Incel speech” was coined by Grau Chopite (2022), and there are currently no other studies making use of it. However, there are studies (e.g., Vu & Lynn, 2020; also see the entry “Frames (Automated Content Analysis”) based on the framing theory by Entman (1991) where the subdimension “subjective causes” would correspond to Entman’s “causal interpretation frame”, while the “subjective emotional consequences” would correspond to Entman’s “problem definition frame”. The “subjective causes” also correspond to the “discursive distancing” and the “emotional consequences” to “suicidality” in the construct of Hybrid Masculinities. The third subdimension “verbal behavior” corresponds to gendered online hate speech (e.g., Döring & Mohseni, 2019), but also to “hostile sexism” and “fortifying boundaries” in the construct of Hybrid Masculinities.

The study by Grau Chopite (2022) employs a quantitative manual content analysis using a deductive approach. Studies based on the construct of Hybrid Masculinities also employ manual online content analyses or manual thematic analyses, but those are often qualitative in nature (e.g., Glace et al., 2021). Framing is also often assessed with manual content analyses (e.g., Nitsch & Lichtenstein, 2019), but newer studies try to assess it computationally (e.g., Vu & Lynn, 2020). Hate speech is often assessed with manual content analyses (e.g., Döring & Mohseni, 2019) and surveys (e.g., Oksanen et al., 2014), but some newer studies try to assess it computationally (e.g., Al-Hassan & Al-Dossari, 2019). As Online Incel Speech is related to framing and gendered hate speech, it seems plausible that manual content analyses of Online Incel Speech could be combined with computational analyses, too, to enable the investigation of large samples. However, computational analyses of subtle forms of verbal behavior can be challenging because the number of wrong categorizations increases (e.g., for sexism detection see Samory et al., 2021; for hate speech detection see Ruiter et al., 2022).