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Cage on, legs up, surrendered to every slow, heavy stretch. Zero control over my own body—just watching his hand disappear inside while I'm completely locked at his mercy. 😈💦 #gayro #gayromania #gayff #gayfisting #ff #fisting #slut #teamcaged #usemyhole

Marcel232

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21,478 görüntüleme • 12 gün önce •via X (Twitter)

NSFW #gayro #gayromania #gayff #gayfisting #ff #fisting #slut #teamcaged #usemyhole

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The Circle of Privilege When my property couldn’t join me in Cappadocia, I took the opportunity to try something new. The circle of privilege! Do you know what that means? Every time you disappoint the Goddess, she will find a way to take her revenge. You will feel her power. Every time you do something right you are closer to get the privilege to experience the real Goddess dark desires. I always have a plan B, and this one unfolded beautifully. I welcomed a rude boy into my world, guiding him through a rebirth ritual in the jacuzzi, baptizing his body and claiming his soul, converting this sinner to my own Religion. With each breath I controlled and each hypnotic whisper, I drew him deeper, entwining his soul with mine, and held him completely under my spell. The energy flowed between us, his body responding to every touch, every command, as if we were dancing together. For days, I kept him close, exploring the depths of his surrender, guiding him through each sensation. In the quiet sanctuary of my cave, I tied him up, marking him for life. The ‘V’ carved on his chest was a moment of intimacy, the slow touch of a blunt blade ensuring each second was felt deeply. I forced him to surrender; he didn’t know what was waiting for him at all. But I always get what I want. Watching him yield so completely, his struggle fading into devotion—there was nothing more satisfying. This is my art: the alchemy of power, the transformation of spirit, and the beauty of total surrender. full clips on my telegram channel

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The Circle of Privilege When my property couldn’t join me in Cappadocia, I took the opportunity to try something new. The circle of privilege! Do you know what that means? Every time you disappoint the Goddess, she will find a way to take her revenge. You will feel her power. Every time you do something right you are closer to get the privilege to experience the real Goddess dark desires. I always have a plan B, and this one unfolded beautifully. I welcomed a rude boy into my world, guiding him through a rebirth ritual in the jacuzzi, baptizing his body and claiming his soul, converting this sinner to my own Religion. With each breath I controlled and each hypnotic whisper, I drew him deeper, entwining his soul with mine, and held him completely under my spell. The energy flowed between us, his body responding to every touch, every command, as if we were dancing together. For days, I kept him close, exploring the depths of his surrender, guiding him through each sensation. In the quiet sanctuary of my cave, I tied him up, marking him for life. The ‘V’ carved on his chest was a moment of intimacy, the slow touch of a blunt blade ensuring each second was felt deeply. I forced him to surrender; he didn’t know what was waiting for him at all. But I always get what I want. Watching him yield so completely, his struggle fading into devotion—there was nothing more satisfying. This is my art: the alchemy of power, the transformation of spirit, and the beauty of total surrender. full clips on my telegram channel

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He sold his wife’s underwear to keep the game going. Imagine being married to a literal genius and watching him slowly strip every single thing you own. It started with the jewelry. Then he took her wedding ring. Then, according to his wife’s own journals, he actually took her underwear to a pawn shop just to get a few more coins for the roulette table. Fyodor Dostoevsky was a straight-up addict who was drowning in a foreign country. He reportedly left his wife starving in a hotel room while he chased a "system" that never worked. He was a man who could explain the deepest parts of the human soul on paper but couldn't control his own hands at a casino. They say he would crawl back to her crying, begging for forgiveness, only to go back and bet the last of their grocery money the very next day. He didn't just write masterpieces. He paid for them with his wife’s dignity and every cent they had to their name. People call him a hero of literature, but for a long time, he was just a man who would sell the clothes off his wife's back for one more spin.

He sold his wife’s underwear to keep the game going. Imagine being married to a literal genius and watching him slowly strip every single thing you own. It started with the jewelry. Then he took her wedding ring. Then, according to his wife’s own journals, he actually took her underwear to a pawn shop just to get a few more coins for the roulette table. Fyodor Dostoevsky was a straight-up addict who was drowning in a foreign country. He reportedly left his wife starving in a hotel room while he chased a "system" that never worked. He was a man who could explain the deepest parts of the human soul on paper but couldn't control his own hands at a casino. They say he would crawl back to her crying, begging for forgiveness, only to go back and bet the last of their grocery money the very next day. He didn't just write masterpieces. He paid for them with his wife’s dignity and every cent they had to their name. People call him a hero of literature, but for a long time, he was just a man who would sell the clothes off his wife's back for one more spin.

Wisdom

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This guy literally told Claude to run every day at 4am. Now it opens his website, writes a blog post, and optimizes it for SEO. Every single day. Zero involvement. Here's how Claude computer use actually works: It looks at your screen. Moves your mouse. Clicks buttons. Opens apps. Completes the full task on its own. No code. No workflow builder. No setup. You just tell it what you want done. And the 4am SEO trick? You schedule it once inside Claude Co-work. Claude runs it every night while you sleep. Your site gets fresh content. You wake up and check the results. That's not a chatbot. That's an AI employee.

This guy literally told Claude to run every day at 4am. Now it opens his website, writes a blog post, and optimizes it for SEO. Every single day. Zero involvement. Here's how Claude computer use actually works: It looks at your screen. Moves your mouse. Clicks buttons. Opens apps. Completes the full task on its own. No code. No workflow builder. No setup. You just tell it what you want done. And the 4am SEO trick? You schedule it once inside Claude Co-work. Claude runs it every night while you sleep. Your site gets fresh content. You wake up and check the results. That's not a chatbot. That's an AI employee.

Julian Goldie SEO

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A short video from Egypt has moved millions around the world. A blind construction worker, identified as Mostafa, is seen carrying a heavy sack of cement on his shoulder while his young son, Yaseen, gently holds His hand and guides Him safely with every step. Mostafa shared that He has worked in construction since He was young. Some time ago, His eyesight began to fade until He eventually lost His vision completely. Yet instead of giving up or asking for charity, He chose to keep earning an honest living through hard work. Every morning, He leaves home in search of work, taking on physically demanding jobs to provide for His family. Beside Him is His greatest source of strength His little son. While the father carries the weight of cement, the child carries the weight of responsibility, becoming the eyes that lead Him forward. Mostafa's words touched countless hearts: "My son is my eyes. He guides me wherever I go and safely brings me home." The story quickly spread across social media, inspiring people with its message of dignity, resilience, and unconditional love. Many called for greater support for hardworking families like theirs so they would not have to endure such hardship just to meet basic needs. Despite the attention, Mostafa asked for only one thing: an opportunity. His dream is to educate His children and give them a better future through work suited to His physical condition. Sometimes, the brightest vision doesn't come from sight it comes from love, sacrifice and responsibility. For Mostafa, that light is His little son, Yaseen.

A short video from Egypt has moved millions around the world. A blind construction worker, identified as Mostafa, is seen carrying a heavy sack of cement on his shoulder while his young son, Yaseen, gently holds His hand and guides Him safely with every step. Mostafa shared that He has worked in construction since He was young. Some time ago, His eyesight began to fade until He eventually lost His vision completely. Yet instead of giving up or asking for charity, He chose to keep earning an honest living through hard work. Every morning, He leaves home in search of work, taking on physically demanding jobs to provide for His family. Beside Him is His greatest source of strength His little son. While the father carries the weight of cement, the child carries the weight of responsibility, becoming the eyes that lead Him forward. Mostafa's words touched countless hearts: "My son is my eyes. He guides me wherever I go and safely brings me home." The story quickly spread across social media, inspiring people with its message of dignity, resilience, and unconditional love. Many called for greater support for hardworking families like theirs so they would not have to endure such hardship just to meet basic needs. Despite the attention, Mostafa asked for only one thing: an opportunity. His dream is to educate His children and give them a better future through work suited to His physical condition. Sometimes, the brightest vision doesn't come from sight it comes from love, sacrifice and responsibility. For Mostafa, that light is His little son, Yaseen.

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Case File - The Intruder Exhibit No - 333 Evan was the ultimate college heartthrob — an 18-year-old wrestler with sun-kissed blonde hair, a ripped athletic body, and that effortless charm that turned heads everywhere he went. He was spending a perfect afternoon with Chloe, his high school sweetheart, laughing and stealing kisses… until she had to head off to her shift. “See you tonight, babe,” she said with a smile. One last deep kiss and she was gone. Evan had no idea that The Intruder — a sadistic serial killer who hunted attractive young men — had been watching him for hours. And now, he had chosen his next victim. Alone in the house, Evan stripped down to his tight orange underwear, revealing every sculpted muscle. He lounged on the bed, scrolling his phone before calling Chloe. His voice was low and flirty as he teased her, completely unaware of the danger. Moments earlier, The Intruder had silently slipped inside. Hidden in the shadows, he watched the blonde jock stretch out in nothing but those bright orange briefs. The killer’s breathing grew heavy. He couldn’t resist — he pleasured himself while listening to Evan’s playful dirty talk with his girlfriend. When Evan finally hung up and climbed off the bed to head to the bathroom, he walked right past the intruder’s hiding spot. In a flash, a ligature whipped around his thick neck. Evan fought hard — the powerful wrestler bucking, twisting, and clawing at the cord — but the killer was stronger and more prepared. The struggle was brutal… and short. Evan’s muscular body went limp. The Intruder carried the dead jock back to the bed and laid him out like a trophy. He ran his hands slowly over the warm, still body, savoring every inch of the handsome wrestler he’d just claimed. Then he disappeared into the night… leaving Evan’s perfectly posed corpse for Chloe to discover when she got home. #serialkiller #fiction

Case File - The Intruder Exhibit No - 333 Evan was the ultimate college heartthrob — an 18-year-old wrestler with sun-kissed blonde hair, a ripped athletic body, and that effortless charm that turned heads everywhere he went. He was spending a perfect afternoon with Chloe, his high school sweetheart, laughing and stealing kisses… until she had to head off to her shift. “See you tonight, babe,” she said with a smile. One last deep kiss and she was gone. Evan had no idea that The Intruder — a sadistic serial killer who hunted attractive young men — had been watching him for hours. And now, he had chosen his next victim. Alone in the house, Evan stripped down to his tight orange underwear, revealing every sculpted muscle. He lounged on the bed, scrolling his phone before calling Chloe. His voice was low and flirty as he teased her, completely unaware of the danger. Moments earlier, The Intruder had silently slipped inside. Hidden in the shadows, he watched the blonde jock stretch out in nothing but those bright orange briefs. The killer’s breathing grew heavy. He couldn’t resist — he pleasured himself while listening to Evan’s playful dirty talk with his girlfriend. When Evan finally hung up and climbed off the bed to head to the bathroom, he walked right past the intruder’s hiding spot. In a flash, a ligature whipped around his thick neck. Evan fought hard — the powerful wrestler bucking, twisting, and clawing at the cord — but the killer was stronger and more prepared. The struggle was brutal… and short. Evan’s muscular body went limp. The Intruder carried the dead jock back to the bed and laid him out like a trophy. He ran his hands slowly over the warm, still body, savoring every inch of the handsome wrestler he’d just claimed. Then he disappeared into the night… leaving Evan’s perfectly posed corpse for Chloe to discover when she got home. #serialkiller #fiction

The Serial Killer Files Ai

11,181 görüntüleme • 2 ay önce

this scene is so INTIMATE, probably the most intimate thing they’ve done so far — nothing explicit just two vulnerable souls in one embrace 🫠 Bison laying himself bare, reassuring Kant that even the “super ugly” tattoo can be beautiful because it has its own story. Him telling Kant “I love every story on your body” and sealing those words with all the slow and tender kisses which start at the VERY SPOT Kant hates the most and travel up his naked body... Kant stopping Bison’s kiss trail with a soft “Careful” and a wide smile on his face, letting Bison cuddle into his side... Bison saying he’s lucky he met Kant and that he feels he’s life is going to change because of him (hoping for the best, as now he’s even more confident that he wants to quit his “assassin job” and live a normal life) and while he says it he can’t see Kant’s face and the fear and regret that’s slowly painting on it... Kant is on his was to realise that his silly little heart is beating a bit too hard for Bison and Bison is about to get his own heart smashed into pieces... HOW BEAUTIFULLY PAINFUL IS THIS STORY I CAN’T EVEN FIND WORDS FOR IT 🫠🥹 THK EP5 KANTBISON #TheHeartKillersEP5

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this scene is so INTIMATE, probably the most intimate thing they’ve done so far — nothing explicit just two vulnerable souls in one embrace 🫠 Bison laying himself bare, reassuring Kant that even the “super ugly” tattoo can be beautiful because it has its own story. Him telling Kant “I love every story on your body” and sealing those words with all the slow and tender kisses which start at the VERY SPOT Kant hates the most and travel up his naked body... Kant stopping Bison’s kiss trail with a soft “Careful” and a wide smile on his face, letting Bison cuddle into his side... Bison saying he’s lucky he met Kant and that he feels he’s life is going to change because of him (hoping for the best, as now he’s even more confident that he wants to quit his “assassin job” and live a normal life) and while he says it he can’t see Kant’s face and the fear and regret that’s slowly painting on it... Kant is on his was to realise that his silly little heart is beating a bit too hard for Bison and Bison is about to get his own heart smashed into pieces... HOW BEAUTIFULLY PAINFUL IS THIS STORY I CAN’T EVEN FIND WORDS FOR IT 🫠🥹 THK EP5 KANTBISON #TheHeartKillersEP5

ayaⁿⁿⁱᵉ⋆·˚ ༘ * SAW TAYLOR

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Even after the attack left him with bleeding ears, Punch is back to normal surprisingly fast. He looked a little sad while around, and his brother came over to check on the wound… but Punch himself is acting completely normal. maybe he’s just grown up strong and learned to fight alone. The zoo really made a big mistake listening to outside noise and leaving Punch alone. As I’ve always said:- this isn’t the wild. Zoo monkeys stay close to humans, just like every other animal at Ichikawa Zoo where the keepers walk right up, feed them by hand, and show them to the visitors. Punch, today was hard for you. You look okay again now, but I can’t imagine what you went through. Sending all the healing vibes ❤️‍🩹

Even after the attack left him with bleeding ears, Punch is back to normal surprisingly fast. He looked a little sad while around, and his brother came over to check on the wound… but Punch himself is acting completely normal. maybe he’s just grown up strong and learned to fight alone. The zoo really made a big mistake listening to outside noise and leaving Punch alone. As I’ve always said:- this isn’t the wild. Zoo monkeys stay close to humans, just like every other animal at Ichikawa Zoo where the keepers walk right up, feed them by hand, and show them to the visitors. Punch, today was hard for you. You look okay again now, but I can’t imagine what you went through. Sending all the healing vibes ❤️‍🩹

Therapeutic Videos

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Everyone's racing to build agent payments. The harder problem is the one getting the least attention: governance. At Proof of Talk inside the Louvre in Paris, our Co-Founder & CEO Chi Zhang made the case alongside leaders from Billions Network, Parity Technologies, and SureMark Digital, moderated by Animoca Brands. In this clip, Chi breaks down why control, not payment, is the real bottleneck: ▷ Everyone claims they do agent payments now, and it's not just Web3. Every Web2 fintech with a card says an agent card is coming. The real blocker for adoption is governance: how do you keep control over the agent? ▷ A horror story: the head of agent safety at Meta's superintelligence lab had all his emails deleted by a Open Claw bot he deployed on his own laptop. The failure mode is always losing control. ▷ Hand an agent an API key with no time-based window or session-based limit, and you've lost the thread. Rotating keys monthly just breaks workflows. The answer is governance built in: scoped, revocable, with a kill switch. This is the layer Kite builds: verifiable identity and control around every agent action, through Agent Passport. 🪁

Everyone's racing to build agent payments. The harder problem is the one getting the least attention: governance. At Proof of Talk inside the Louvre in Paris, our Co-Founder & CEO Chi Zhang made the case alongside leaders from Billions Network, Parity Technologies, and SureMark Digital, moderated by Animoca Brands. In this clip, Chi breaks down why control, not payment, is the real bottleneck: ▷ Everyone claims they do agent payments now, and it's not just Web3. Every Web2 fintech with a card says an agent card is coming. The real blocker for adoption is governance: how do you keep control over the agent? ▷ A horror story: the head of agent safety at Meta's superintelligence lab had all his emails deleted by a Open Claw bot he deployed on his own laptop. The failure mode is always losing control. ▷ Hand an agent an API key with no time-based window or session-based limit, and you've lost the thread. Rotating keys monthly just breaks workflows. The answer is governance built in: scoped, revocable, with a kill switch. This is the layer Kite builds: verifiable identity and control around every agent action, through Agent Passport. 🪁

KITE AI

20,475 görüntüleme • 2 ay önce

Denzel Washington’s epic monologue towards the end of Training Day was largely improvised on set. Director Antoine Fuqua was so blown away by his performance, he says he thinks he "forgot to yell cut”. He explains… “That’s Denzel. He was just in his zone. I mean, that was one of those moment...people talk about AI. Those are the moments where you go...it's a great tool. It's gonna be a great tool, I think...but the emotion, and the moment that an actor can bring - you can't predict that. That's something that's just inside of Denzel. And when that came out, I was just like - I hope I got it. I just turned to my operator - who was shaking- I looked over at the guy - I was like, “please tell me you got that.” Because that was the take. That was it. There was no other take - I mean, how do you tell an actor like that, that that wasn't good enough? …He walked over to me, and he just had this look in his eyes. I was like, “you good?” He said, “you good?” I said, “Yeah…” Some of that was in the script, but he flipped it the way he did it. "Putting cases on all you." He kind of added some things in there. And then he just went into a whole other zone with the whole King Kong thing- with Pelican Bay - Denzel started that. That was Denzel. That was him, man. He just kind of lit up, and I think I forgot to yell cut. I was just watching it, because everybody started walking away, and I'm just watching him, and then he lights a cigarette - and he's talking - and I'm just watching him. I think at some point he probably looked at me like, you going to cut? And I'm like, “oh yeah, yeah, cut.” He was still in it. That's the thing with Denzel. He was so Alonso…I'm just watching him for a while because I didn't know what else he was going to do. It was just so magical. And then I think he looked up at me and I was like, “Okay, cut, cut.”

Denzel Washington’s epic monologue towards the end of Training Day was largely improvised on set. Director Antoine Fuqua was so blown away by his performance, he says he thinks he "forgot to yell cut”. He explains… “That’s Denzel. He was just in his zone. I mean, that was one of those moment...people talk about AI. Those are the moments where you go...it's a great tool. It's gonna be a great tool, I think...but the emotion, and the moment that an actor can bring - you can't predict that. That's something that's just inside of Denzel. And when that came out, I was just like - I hope I got it. I just turned to my operator - who was shaking- I looked over at the guy - I was like, “please tell me you got that.” Because that was the take. That was it. There was no other take - I mean, how do you tell an actor like that, that that wasn't good enough? …He walked over to me, and he just had this look in his eyes. I was like, “you good?” He said, “you good?” I said, “Yeah…” Some of that was in the script, but he flipped it the way he did it. "Putting cases on all you." He kind of added some things in there. And then he just went into a whole other zone with the whole King Kong thing- with Pelican Bay - Denzel started that. That was Denzel. That was him, man. He just kind of lit up, and I think I forgot to yell cut. I was just watching it, because everybody started walking away, and I'm just watching him, and then he lights a cigarette - and he's talking - and I'm just watching him. I think at some point he probably looked at me like, you going to cut? And I'm like, “oh yeah, yeah, cut.” He was still in it. That's the thing with Denzel. He was so Alonso…I'm just watching him for a while because I didn't know what else he was going to do. It was just so magical. And then I think he looked up at me and I was like, “Okay, cut, cut.”

Gangster Cinema Central

42,262 görüntüleme • 2 ay önce

Who needs the Epstein files—the first 16 women to accuse Trump speak out. 👇 #1 Cathy Heller—"He took my hand, and grabbed me, and went for the lips." #2 Jill Harth—"And he just slipped his hand there, touching my private part." #3 Temple Taggart—"He turned to me and embraced me and gave me a kiss on the lips. And I remember being shocked, because I would have just thought to shake somebody's hand, but that was his first response." #4 Cassandra Searles—"He continually grabbed my ass and invited me to his hotel room." #5 Jessica Leeds—"It was a real shock when all of a sudden his hands were all over me. But it's when he started putting his hand up my skirt, and that was it. That was it." #6 Kristin Anderson—"The person on my right, who unbeknownst to me at that time was Donald Trump, put their hand up my skirt. He did touch my vagina through my underwear." #7 Lisa Boyne—"As the women walked across the table, Donald Trump would look up under their skirt and, you know, comment on whether they had underwear or didn't have underwear. I didn't want to have to walk across the table. I wanted to get out of there." #8 Karena Virginia—"Then his hand touched the right inside of my breast. I felt intimidated and I felt powerless." #9 Mindy McGillivray—"Melania was standing right next to him when he touched my butt. She also caught him at the first encounter that we had." #10 Rachel Crooks—"He kissed me directly on the mouth. It was so inappropriate. He thought I was so insignificant he could do that." #11 Natasha Stoynoff—"I don't really care if he finds me attractive or not. Apparently, he found me attractive enough 11 years ago. I think that he's saying there that only pretty women get assaulted." #12 Jessica Drake—"When we entered the room, he grabbed each of us tightly in a hug and kissed each one of us without asking permission. After that, I received another call from either Donald or a male calling on his behalf, offering me ten thousand dollars. His actions are a huge testament to his character, that of uncontrollable misogyny, entitlement, and being a sexual assault apologist." #13 Ninni Laaksonen—"He really grabbed my butt. Mr. Trump was a slimy man!" #14 Samantha Holvey—"I'm sitting there in my robe and having my makeup and hair done and everything, and he comes walking in, and I was just like, Oh my goodness, like what is he doing back here? I saw him walk into the dressing room. He just came strolling right in. There was no second to put a robe on or any sort of clothing or anything. Some girls were topless, other girls were naked." #15 Tash Dixon—"He just came strolling right in. There was no second to put a robe on. Some girls were topless, and other girls were naked. Walking in when we're naked or half naked in a very physically vulnerable position." #16 Summer Zervos—"And he came to me and started kissing me open-mouthed as he was pulling me towards him. He then grabbed my shoulder and began kissing me again very aggressively and placed his hand on my breast. And I said, come on, man, get real. He repeated my words back to me. Get real. As he began thrusting his genitals." #DemVoice1 #wtpBLUE #DemsUnited

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Who needs the Epstein files—the first 16 women to accuse Trump speak out. 👇 #1 Cathy Heller—"He took my hand, and grabbed me, and went for the lips." #2 Jill Harth—"And he just slipped his hand there, touching my private part." #3 Temple Taggart—"He turned to me and embraced me and gave me a kiss on the lips. And I remember being shocked, because I would have just thought to shake somebody's hand, but that was his first response." #4 Cassandra Searles—"He continually grabbed my ass and invited me to his hotel room." #5 Jessica Leeds—"It was a real shock when all of a sudden his hands were all over me. But it's when he started putting his hand up my skirt, and that was it. That was it." #6 Kristin Anderson—"The person on my right, who unbeknownst to me at that time was Donald Trump, put their hand up my skirt. He did touch my vagina through my underwear." #7 Lisa Boyne—"As the women walked across the table, Donald Trump would look up under their skirt and, you know, comment on whether they had underwear or didn't have underwear. I didn't want to have to walk across the table. I wanted to get out of there." #8 Karena Virginia—"Then his hand touched the right inside of my breast. I felt intimidated and I felt powerless." #9 Mindy McGillivray—"Melania was standing right next to him when he touched my butt. She also caught him at the first encounter that we had." #10 Rachel Crooks—"He kissed me directly on the mouth. It was so inappropriate. He thought I was so insignificant he could do that." #11 Natasha Stoynoff—"I don't really care if he finds me attractive or not. Apparently, he found me attractive enough 11 years ago. I think that he's saying there that only pretty women get assaulted." #12 Jessica Drake—"When we entered the room, he grabbed each of us tightly in a hug and kissed each one of us without asking permission. After that, I received another call from either Donald or a male calling on his behalf, offering me ten thousand dollars. His actions are a huge testament to his character, that of uncontrollable misogyny, entitlement, and being a sexual assault apologist." #13 Ninni Laaksonen—"He really grabbed my butt. Mr. Trump was a slimy man!" #14 Samantha Holvey—"I'm sitting there in my robe and having my makeup and hair done and everything, and he comes walking in, and I was just like, Oh my goodness, like what is he doing back here? I saw him walk into the dressing room. He just came strolling right in. There was no second to put a robe on or any sort of clothing or anything. Some girls were topless, other girls were naked." #15 Tash Dixon—"He just came strolling right in. There was no second to put a robe on. Some girls were topless, and other girls were naked. Walking in when we're naked or half naked in a very physically vulnerable position." #16 Summer Zervos—"And he came to me and started kissing me open-mouthed as he was pulling me towards him. He then grabbed my shoulder and began kissing me again very aggressively and placed his hand on my breast. And I said, come on, man, get real. He repeated my words back to me. Get real. As he began thrusting his genitals." #DemVoice1 #wtpBLUE #DemsUnited

LongTime🤓FirstTime👨‍💻

607,616 görüntüleme • 1 yıl önce

The original Epstein list—the first 16 women to accuse Trump speak out. 👇 #1 Cathy Heller—"He took my hand, grabbed me, and went for the lips." #2 Jill Harth—"And he just slipped his hand there, touching my private part." #3 Temple Taggart—"He turned to me and embraced me and gave me a kiss on the lips. And I remember being shocked, because I would have just thought to shake somebody's hand, but that was his first response." #4 Cassandra Searles—"He continually grabbed my ass and invited me to his hotel room." #5 Jessica Leeds—"It was a real shock when all of a sudden his hands were all over me. But it's when he started putting his hand up my skirt, and that was it. That was it." #6 Kristin Anderson—"The person on my right, who unbeknownst to me at that time was Donald Trump, put their hand up my skirt. He did touch my vagina through my underwear." #7 Lisa Boyne—"As the women walked across the table, Donald Trump would look up under their skirt and, you know, comment on whether they had underwear or didn't have underwear. I didn't want to have to walk across the table. I wanted to get out of there." #8 Karena Virginia—"Then his hand touched the right inside of my breast. I felt intimidated and I felt powerless." #9 Mindy McGillivray—"Melania was standing right next to him when he touched my butt. She also caught him at the first encounter that we had." #10 Rachel Crooks—"He kissed me directly on the mouth. It was so inappropriate. He thought I was so insignificant he could do that." #11 Natasha Stoynoff—"I don't really care if he finds me attractive or not. Apparently, he found me attractive enough 11 years ago. I think that he's saying there that only pretty women get assaulted." #12 Jessica Drake—"When we entered the room, he grabbed each of us tightly in a hug and kissed each one of us without asking permission. After that, I received another call from either Donald or a male calling on his behalf, offering me ten thousand dollars. His actions are a huge testament to his character, that of uncontrollable misogyny, entitlement, and being a sexual assault apologist." #13 Ninni Laaksonen—"He really grabbed my butt. Mr. Trump was a slimy man!" #14 Samantha Holvey—"I'm sitting there in my robe and having my makeup and hair done and everything, and he comes walking in, and I was just like, Oh my goodness, like what is he doing back here? I saw him walk into the dressing room. He just came strolling right in. There was no second to put a robe on or any sort of clothing or anything. Some girls were topless, and other girls were naked." #15 Tash Dixon—"He just came strolling right in. There was no second to put a robe on. Some girls were topless, and other girls were naked. Walking in when we're naked or half naked in a very physically vulnerable position." #16 Summer Zervos—"And he came to me and started kissing me open-mouthed as he was pulling me towards him. He then grabbed my shoulder and began kissing me again, very aggressively, and placed his hand on my breast. And I said, 'Come on, man, get real.' He repeated my words back to me, 'Get real,' As he began thrusting his genitals." #DemsUnited

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The original Epstein list—the first 16 women to accuse Trump speak out. 👇 #1 Cathy Heller—"He took my hand, grabbed me, and went for the lips." #2 Jill Harth—"And he just slipped his hand there, touching my private part." #3 Temple Taggart—"He turned to me and embraced me and gave me a kiss on the lips. And I remember being shocked, because I would have just thought to shake somebody's hand, but that was his first response." #4 Cassandra Searles—"He continually grabbed my ass and invited me to his hotel room." #5 Jessica Leeds—"It was a real shock when all of a sudden his hands were all over me. But it's when he started putting his hand up my skirt, and that was it. That was it." #6 Kristin Anderson—"The person on my right, who unbeknownst to me at that time was Donald Trump, put their hand up my skirt. He did touch my vagina through my underwear." #7 Lisa Boyne—"As the women walked across the table, Donald Trump would look up under their skirt and, you know, comment on whether they had underwear or didn't have underwear. I didn't want to have to walk across the table. I wanted to get out of there." #8 Karena Virginia—"Then his hand touched the right inside of my breast. I felt intimidated and I felt powerless." #9 Mindy McGillivray—"Melania was standing right next to him when he touched my butt. She also caught him at the first encounter that we had." #10 Rachel Crooks—"He kissed me directly on the mouth. It was so inappropriate. He thought I was so insignificant he could do that." #11 Natasha Stoynoff—"I don't really care if he finds me attractive or not. Apparently, he found me attractive enough 11 years ago. I think that he's saying there that only pretty women get assaulted." #12 Jessica Drake—"When we entered the room, he grabbed each of us tightly in a hug and kissed each one of us without asking permission. After that, I received another call from either Donald or a male calling on his behalf, offering me ten thousand dollars. His actions are a huge testament to his character, that of uncontrollable misogyny, entitlement, and being a sexual assault apologist." #13 Ninni Laaksonen—"He really grabbed my butt. Mr. Trump was a slimy man!" #14 Samantha Holvey—"I'm sitting there in my robe and having my makeup and hair done and everything, and he comes walking in, and I was just like, Oh my goodness, like what is he doing back here? I saw him walk into the dressing room. He just came strolling right in. There was no second to put a robe on or any sort of clothing or anything. Some girls were topless, and other girls were naked." #15 Tash Dixon—"He just came strolling right in. There was no second to put a robe on. Some girls were topless, and other girls were naked. Walking in when we're naked or half naked in a very physically vulnerable position." #16 Summer Zervos—"And he came to me and started kissing me open-mouthed as he was pulling me towards him. He then grabbed my shoulder and began kissing me again, very aggressively, and placed his hand on my breast. And I said, 'Come on, man, get real.' He repeated my words back to me, 'Get real,' As he began thrusting his genitals." #DemsUnited

LongTime🤓FirstTime👨‍💻

594,448 görüntüleme • 1 yıl önce

Officers rough up an innocent 60 year old man over a warrant that they read wrong and refused to double check. Pure incompetence on display when Orange City Police Department officers wrongfully detained Harry DeCancio Sr. inside his own home. The responding officers were attempting to execute an active arrest warrant. However, the target of that warrant was not the man they cornered in the living room—it was for his son, Harry DeCancio Jr. Despite a massive generation gap, the officers completely abandoned standard identity verification protocols. Harry DeCancio Sr. was born in 1962, making him over 60 years old at the time of the incident. The warrant on the officers' mobile data terminals explicitly detailed a completely different birth year, a distinct physical description, and the "Junior" suffix belonging to his son. Rather than taking a few brief seconds to double check their info, the officers instead doubled down on their error. Body camera footage reveals the officers aggressively pushed the elder DeCancio over his own couch. A struggle ensued for several minutes as officers forced handcuffs onto him. This incident exposes the dangerous reality of law enforcement prioritizing absolute physical compliance over accurate data verification. When officers refuse to slow down and read the critical identifiers right in front of them, innocent citizens pay the price. In this case, gross negligence took the place of basic duty, leaving a 60-year-old man to bear the brunt of an assault and wrongful arrest by the very department sworn to protect the community.

Officers rough up an innocent 60 year old man over a warrant that they read wrong and refused to double check. Pure incompetence on display when Orange City Police Department officers wrongfully detained Harry DeCancio Sr. inside his own home. The responding officers were attempting to execute an active arrest warrant. However, the target of that warrant was not the man they cornered in the living room—it was for his son, Harry DeCancio Jr. Despite a massive generation gap, the officers completely abandoned standard identity verification protocols. Harry DeCancio Sr. was born in 1962, making him over 60 years old at the time of the incident. The warrant on the officers' mobile data terminals explicitly detailed a completely different birth year, a distinct physical description, and the "Junior" suffix belonging to his son. Rather than taking a few brief seconds to double check their info, the officers instead doubled down on their error. Body camera footage reveals the officers aggressively pushed the elder DeCancio over his own couch. A struggle ensued for several minutes as officers forced handcuffs onto him. This incident exposes the dangerous reality of law enforcement prioritizing absolute physical compliance over accurate data verification. When officers refuse to slow down and read the critical identifiers right in front of them, innocent citizens pay the price. In this case, gross negligence took the place of basic duty, leaving a 60-year-old man to bear the brunt of an assault and wrongful arrest by the very department sworn to protect the community.

Giggling Ganon

1,719,231 görüntüleme • 2 ay önce

.Mohnish Pabrai paid $650K to have lunch with Warren Buffett after copying his strategy to make $84M. Here's why it was worth every penny: Pabrai's wife told Warren: "I love you, but I actually prefer Charlie Munger." Warren got competitive: "Charlie? He's boring and pessimistic. I'm the interesting one." Two days later, Warren emailed Charlie's assistant: "I met this couple who think YOU'RE more interesting. Let's set the record straight." That lunch started what's now over 15 years of friendship. But here's how Pabrai made the $84M: He told his investors: "Your only purpose on Earth is to bring assets to my fund," and turned them into a distribution layer. While everyone bought pets .com at billion-dollar valuations with zero revenue, Pabrai bought: Funeral homes at 2x earnings Steel companies at 3x earnings When NASDAQ imploded 75%, Pabrai was the only guy making money. He didn't just play the market. He bought his way into the inner circle of the greatest investors alive. Shaan Puri

.Mohnish Pabrai paid $650K to have lunch with Warren Buffett after copying his strategy to make $84M. Here's why it was worth every penny: Pabrai's wife told Warren: "I love you, but I actually prefer Charlie Munger." Warren got competitive: "Charlie? He's boring and pessimistic. I'm the interesting one." Two days later, Warren emailed Charlie's assistant: "I met this couple who think YOU'RE more interesting. Let's set the record straight." That lunch started what's now over 15 years of friendship. But here's how Pabrai made the $84M: He told his investors: "Your only purpose on Earth is to bring assets to my fund," and turned them into a distribution layer. While everyone bought pets .com at billion-dollar valuations with zero revenue, Pabrai bought: Funeral homes at 2x earnings Steel companies at 3x earnings When NASDAQ imploded 75%, Pabrai was the only guy making money. He didn't just play the market. He bought his way into the inner circle of the greatest investors alive. Shaan Puri

My First Million

134,939 görüntüleme • 3 ay önce

Nacho dies free because he chooses the terms of his death He'd gotten out. He beat the Twins, he was clear. Then he stops and calls his father. And his father tells him what he's told him a hundred times. Go to the police. What else is there to say? And hangs up Nacho stands there crying. Then he calls Mike and arranges his own execution, on one condition. His father stays safe He walks back into the fire on purpose In the desert he gives them the script. Peruvians. Money. Everything Gus needs him to say. Then he goes off it. He calls Gus the Chicken Man to his face, too weak to do this himself. He tells the Cousins he'd have done all of it for free, because he hated them. He looks at Hector and tells him whose hand swapped the pills. Think of me while you're sucking down Jello in the nursing home, you twisted fuck Then he cuts his ties with a shard of glass he'd palmed days earlier, takes Bolsa's gun, and holds it on him just long enough to see every face in that circle He turns it on himself instead Mando saw it clearly. Every man standing in that desert is already dead. They just don't know it yet. Dead men watching the first man die They all came to decide how Nacho went. Not one of them got to

Nacho dies free because he chooses the terms of his death He'd gotten out. He beat the Twins, he was clear. Then he stops and calls his father. And his father tells him what he's told him a hundred times. Go to the police. What else is there to say? And hangs up Nacho stands there crying. Then he calls Mike and arranges his own execution, on one condition. His father stays safe He walks back into the fire on purpose In the desert he gives them the script. Peruvians. Money. Everything Gus needs him to say. Then he goes off it. He calls Gus the Chicken Man to his face, too weak to do this himself. He tells the Cousins he'd have done all of it for free, because he hated them. He looks at Hector and tells him whose hand swapped the pills. Think of me while you're sucking down Jello in the nursing home, you twisted fuck Then he cuts his ties with a shard of glass he'd palmed days earlier, takes Bolsa's gun, and holds it on him just long enough to see every face in that circle He turns it on himself instead Mando saw it clearly. Every man standing in that desert is already dead. They just don't know it yet. Dead men watching the first man die They all came to decide how Nacho went. Not one of them got to

best of better call saul

731,462 görüntüleme • 1 ay önce

Wim Hof took Steven Bartlett into an ice bath on Diary of a CEO and it was impressive. While they were in the freezing water, Wim guided him with his signature calm intensity: “Stay with your breath… Long out breath… Long out breath… You’re doing good. Let the body do what the body is capable of. Your body is adapting from the inside.” Wim does this every morning. He once stayed in for 64 minutes on his 64th birthday, but says just 2–3 minutes is enough for most people. Cold exposure with controlled breathing (especially long exhales) can increase norepinephrine by up to 530%, activates brown fat, and triggers a strong anti-inflammatory response. Regular practice strengthens immunity and builds serious mental resilience. In our high-stress world, this is one of the simplest and most powerful ways to train your nervous system and gain control over your mind and body. Have you tried cold exposure (ice bath or cold shower) yet? How did it go?

Wim Hof took Steven Bartlett into an ice bath on Diary of a CEO and it was impressive. While they were in the freezing water, Wim guided him with his signature calm intensity: “Stay with your breath… Long out breath… Long out breath… You’re doing good. Let the body do what the body is capable of. Your body is adapting from the inside.” Wim does this every morning. He once stayed in for 64 minutes on his 64th birthday, but says just 2–3 minutes is enough for most people. Cold exposure with controlled breathing (especially long exhales) can increase norepinephrine by up to 530%, activates brown fat, and triggers a strong anti-inflammatory response. Regular practice strengthens immunity and builds serious mental resilience. In our high-stress world, this is one of the simplest and most powerful ways to train your nervous system and gain control over your mind and body. Have you tried cold exposure (ice bath or cold shower) yet? How did it go?

Camus

157,931 görüntüleme • 3 ay önce

ＢＬＡＺＥＯＦＦＵＲＹ I slam down on the little shrimp with the full, earth-shaking tonnage of my colossal bulk. His puny frame flattens like a stomped roach beneath me, and a vicious snap cuts the air as his lungs cough up a sad, broken yelp. It’s fuckin’ wild how his skinny, fragile build sets my blood ablaze—like a brittle twig trembling beneath my hulking, boulder-like chest, begging to be crushed. My pecs squash him flat, mashing his mug into the mat with skull-shattering might. I smack my cock against the twin curves of his ass and grind it awake along their sculpted swell. My hips pound his dainty backside, even as he squirms, tensing and trying to buck me off. His pathetic fuckin’ resistance melts like butter under my sheer dominance—nothing but a sorry little twitch-fest. My junk roars to life faster than a souped-up dragster. I’m a goddamn bulldozer rolling over this fuckin’ worthless speck. I jerk up a couple inches and smash back down hard. A nasty crack rips from his guts under my brutal hammering, but all he’s got left is a faint gasp as the air ditches him. I drag myself slow, pulverizing him into the mat with every fiber of my strength, and growl in his ear: “Wrestle, runt!” I hoist my bulk up a hair, and the wimp starts thrashing under me. He knows I get off on his flailing fight—I crave those desperate, doomed swings. His mousy muscles got no shot at budging me, but even half-dead, he’s hell-bent on lighting my fuse. His tiny bum rubs my dick like mad, sparking like a match on rough timber. My member’s pulsing, primed to pay him back. Wielding my titanic bulk like a sledgehammer, I unleash a savage pounding on him. My gut slams him down with crushing weight. Every hit’s meaner than the last, sinking him deeper into the mat. His wriggling quits cold, his body caving to my relentless beatdown. The hardest blows grind his bones to dust, but he’s silent now—just ragged breaths forced out by my strikes. Conscious? Who gives a shit. After a dozen ruthless smacks, I flop onto him. His frail frame is scorching from the thrashing I dished out. My gargantuan mass locks him in place—no squirming, no breathing, nada. He’s mine to break, and my sheer heft could snuff him out for good. But I ain’t done—my cock’s howling for more. I peel off him. The shrimp wheezes, clawing for air, fumbling his wrecked shell. I give him a sec to pull it together—the grand finale’s coming. He knows a stiff corpse won’t rev my engine. I hiss in his ear: “Flip over!” Battered to hell, he still spins onto his back like a whipped little shit. He wouldn’t dream of crossing me—fear and heat tangle in his eyes as my monstrous shadow looms. I reward his obedience by slamming down full-force. His chest plate cracks, ribs splinter. My meat smacks his steel-hard cock with a loud thwack. The twisted little freak loves it. I’ve flattened him helpless again, and my shaft drinks in his agony. I grind it against his dick, mashing his lean torso with my thick, beefy bulk. His ribcage buckles as I lean in hard. His feebleness and frailty stoke my sadistic blaze. “Wrestle!” I snarl, easing up an inch to let him fan my flames. He tries to fight back—he knows every twitch stokes my fire. He’s desperate to keep me happy; he’s seen what happens to uppity punks who don’t. He don’t want that smoke. His beat-up, aching husk battles to please me. He’s so goddamn insignificant—my junk’s a live grenade. The big finish is close. I start ramming him for real with my cock, fuckin’ banging him into oblivion. My loins grind into his core with full throttle. Our tools collide, sizzling like live wires. My titan’s bulk pounds and smashes the runt under my brutal girth, raging harder each blow. His flopping fades fast, my crushing hits paralyzing him. He’s got no choice but to bow to my beastly fury. His shell cracks under my onslaught—too flimsy to take it. Bones groan and give, sinking with my blows. He’s gotta be out cold, but his stiffy’s trembling, ready to blow. I dive at him with unhinged rage, ready to tear him apart. His delicate rig shatters for good, bones snapping like brittle straw. My cock erupts like a damn volcano, and his tags along. Our gear’s drenched, dripping with heat. I unload again with feral power, roaring deep from my gut, and collapse, winded, on his smashed-up wreck. Our juices meld through the fabric like molten lava rivers. I sprawl over him, catching my breath. He’s pitifully small and breakable, the little shit. The shrimp’s out, his pretty face calm—miles from the fuckin’ hell he just ate. He nailed his role and served me right. I growl low, a sated beast’s rumble: “Good boy, you little fuck.”

ＢＬＡＺＥＯＦＦＵＲＹ I slam down on the little shrimp with the full, earth-shaking tonnage of my colossal bulk. His puny frame flattens like a stomped roach beneath me, and a vicious snap cuts the air as his lungs cough up a sad, broken yelp. It’s fuckin’ wild how his skinny, fragile build sets my blood ablaze—like a brittle twig trembling beneath my hulking, boulder-like chest, begging to be crushed. My pecs squash him flat, mashing his mug into the mat with skull-shattering might. I smack my cock against the twin curves of his ass and grind it awake along their sculpted swell. My hips pound his dainty backside, even as he squirms, tensing and trying to buck me off. His pathetic fuckin’ resistance melts like butter under my sheer dominance—nothing but a sorry little twitch-fest. My junk roars to life faster than a souped-up dragster. I’m a goddamn bulldozer rolling over this fuckin’ worthless speck. I jerk up a couple inches and smash back down hard. A nasty crack rips from his guts under my brutal hammering, but all he’s got left is a faint gasp as the air ditches him. I drag myself slow, pulverizing him into the mat with every fiber of my strength, and growl in his ear: “Wrestle, runt!” I hoist my bulk up a hair, and the wimp starts thrashing under me. He knows I get off on his flailing fight—I crave those desperate, doomed swings. His mousy muscles got no shot at budging me, but even half-dead, he’s hell-bent on lighting my fuse. His tiny bum rubs my dick like mad, sparking like a match on rough timber. My member’s pulsing, primed to pay him back. Wielding my titanic bulk like a sledgehammer, I unleash a savage pounding on him. My gut slams him down with crushing weight. Every hit’s meaner than the last, sinking him deeper into the mat. His wriggling quits cold, his body caving to my relentless beatdown. The hardest blows grind his bones to dust, but he’s silent now—just ragged breaths forced out by my strikes. Conscious? Who gives a shit. After a dozen ruthless smacks, I flop onto him. His frail frame is scorching from the thrashing I dished out. My gargantuan mass locks him in place—no squirming, no breathing, nada. He’s mine to break, and my sheer heft could snuff him out for good. But I ain’t done—my cock’s howling for more. I peel off him. The shrimp wheezes, clawing for air, fumbling his wrecked shell. I give him a sec to pull it together—the grand finale’s coming. He knows a stiff corpse won’t rev my engine. I hiss in his ear: “Flip over!” Battered to hell, he still spins onto his back like a whipped little shit. He wouldn’t dream of crossing me—fear and heat tangle in his eyes as my monstrous shadow looms. I reward his obedience by slamming down full-force. His chest plate cracks, ribs splinter. My meat smacks his steel-hard cock with a loud thwack. The twisted little freak loves it. I’ve flattened him helpless again, and my shaft drinks in his agony. I grind it against his dick, mashing his lean torso with my thick, beefy bulk. His ribcage buckles as I lean in hard. His feebleness and frailty stoke my sadistic blaze. “Wrestle!” I snarl, easing up an inch to let him fan my flames. He tries to fight back—he knows every twitch stokes my fire. He’s desperate to keep me happy; he’s seen what happens to uppity punks who don’t. He don’t want that smoke. His beat-up, aching husk battles to please me. He’s so goddamn insignificant—my junk’s a live grenade. The big finish is close. I start ramming him for real with my cock, fuckin’ banging him into oblivion. My loins grind into his core with full throttle. Our tools collide, sizzling like live wires. My titan’s bulk pounds and smashes the runt under my brutal girth, raging harder each blow. His flopping fades fast, my crushing hits paralyzing him. He’s got no choice but to bow to my beastly fury. His shell cracks under my onslaught—too flimsy to take it. Bones groan and give, sinking with my blows. He’s gotta be out cold, but his stiffy’s trembling, ready to blow. I dive at him with unhinged rage, ready to tear him apart. His delicate rig shatters for good, bones snapping like brittle straw. My cock erupts like a damn volcano, and his tags along. Our gear’s drenched, dripping with heat. I unload again with feral power, roaring deep from my gut, and collapse, winded, on his smashed-up wreck. Our juices meld through the fabric like molten lava rivers. I sprawl over him, catching my breath. He’s pitifully small and breakable, the little shit. The shrimp’s out, his pretty face calm—miles from the fuckin’ hell he just ate. He nailed his role and served me right. I growl low, a sated beast’s rumble: “Good boy, you little fuck.”

No Limits Wrestling 🔞 brutal gay fetish fiction

11,051 görüntüleme • 1 yıl önce

🚨THIS ARB SETUP PRINTS ~$27,500 PER MONTH It's WRONG about BTC price every time and still gets paid. The secret? It buy YES, then buys NO same second. Sounds insane but it's the only risk-free trade in the whole space: On a BTC Up/Down market, YES and NO have to add up to exactly $1 at resolution. One side ends at a dollar. The other ends at zero. Always, no middle ground. But the orderbook is messy and the two sides trade like they don't even know about each other. So for a few seconds YES sits at 47 cents while NO sits at 49. That's 96 cents to own BOTH outcomes of a market that pays a guaranteed dollar. 4 cents of locked profit that does not care where Bitcoin goes. Up, down, sideways - you already hold the winning side, cause you hold every side. You're not predicting anything. You're just buying a dollar for less than a dollar. Now the honest part most of these posts skip: The gap is real but thin, and three things eat it. > fees + gas on both legs > you need BOTH sides filled before the gap closes > and it closes in seconds, sometimes faster Grab YES at 47, NO jumps to 54 before your second leg fills, and your locked 96 just became $1.01. Free money turned into a small loss in one tick. The math is risk-free but the execution is NOT. That's the whole reason bots own this and humans can't. You can stare at one market. My scanner watches every crypto market at once and fires both legs the instant the sum breaks under a dollar. Full guide quoted below for those who wanna deep dive into arb.

🚨THIS ARB SETUP PRINTS ~$27,500 PER MONTH It's WRONG about BTC price every time and still gets paid. The secret? It buy YES, then buys NO same second. Sounds insane but it's the only risk-free trade in the whole space: On a BTC Up/Down market, YES and NO have to add up to exactly $1 at resolution. One side ends at a dollar. The other ends at zero. Always, no middle ground. But the orderbook is messy and the two sides trade like they don't even know about each other. So for a few seconds YES sits at 47 cents while NO sits at 49. That's 96 cents to own BOTH outcomes of a market that pays a guaranteed dollar. 4 cents of locked profit that does not care where Bitcoin goes. Up, down, sideways - you already hold the winning side, cause you hold every side. You're not predicting anything. You're just buying a dollar for less than a dollar. Now the honest part most of these posts skip: The gap is real but thin, and three things eat it. > fees + gas on both legs > you need BOTH sides filled before the gap closes > and it closes in seconds, sometimes faster Grab YES at 47, NO jumps to 54 before your second leg fills, and your locked 96 just became $1.01. Free money turned into a small loss in one tick. The math is risk-free but the execution is NOT. That's the whole reason bots own this and humans can't. You can stare at one market. My scanner watches every crypto market at once and fires both legs the instant the sum breaks under a dollar. Full guide quoted below for those who wanna deep dive into arb.

Oracle Boar

22,228 görüntüleme • 2 ay önce

We need to have the uncomfortable conversation about violent crime in Victoria and in Australia at large. Last night, two boys, 12 and 15, were murdered with machetes in Melbourne’s west. That headline alone should shock you. But it’s just the latest in a long line: a father stabbed 11 times in the face during a home invasion, a man nearly losing his hand over a phone, a doctor murdered in his own home. This isn’t just “bad luck” or “isolated incidents.” This is the product of failed policy, soft bail laws, and a culture that emboldens violent youth because they know there are no consequences. I know this firsthand. I was the victim of a home invasion. My car was stolen. My equipment—my livelihood—was taken. I haven’t felt safe in my own home since. And every time I speak up, I’m dismissed as a cooker or a right-wing nutjob. But I speak up because I care about my community, my state, and my country. It shouldn’t take you watching a loved one lose a limb or worse, their life for you to realise that silence and apathy come at the cost of all our safety. Edmund Burke said it best: “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” And too many of us are doing nothing. If you believe that we should have the right to defend ourselves in our own homes sign the petition for Castle Law in my bio. Every signature matters. Every voice matters.

We need to have the uncomfortable conversation about violent crime in Victoria and in Australia at large. Last night, two boys, 12 and 15, were murdered with machetes in Melbourne’s west. That headline alone should shock you. But it’s just the latest in a long line: a father stabbed 11 times in the face during a home invasion, a man nearly losing his hand over a phone, a doctor murdered in his own home. This isn’t just “bad luck” or “isolated incidents.” This is the product of failed policy, soft bail laws, and a culture that emboldens violent youth because they know there are no consequences. I know this firsthand. I was the victim of a home invasion. My car was stolen. My equipment—my livelihood—was taken. I haven’t felt safe in my own home since. And every time I speak up, I’m dismissed as a cooker or a right-wing nutjob. But I speak up because I care about my community, my state, and my country. It shouldn’t take you watching a loved one lose a limb or worse, their life for you to realise that silence and apathy come at the cost of all our safety. Edmund Burke said it best: “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” And too many of us are doing nothing. If you believe that we should have the right to defend ourselves in our own homes sign the petition for Castle Law in my bio. Every signature matters. Every voice matters.

Carlz J Söda 📸

43,004 görüntüleme • 11 ay önce

Mexican Pilot Rafael Pacheco Pérez During His 1976 Flight: This is not Rafael. We come to you from another planet. We are using his body as a microphone. You need to understand that your species is on the brink of destruction because of nuclear weapons. The 23 year old student pilot was on a short practice flight near Mexico City when thick fog suddenly rolled in. His plane controls became completely unresponsive. He could not descend or turn the aircraft no matter what he tried. As he radioed air traffic control for help he began losing consciousness and blacked out. When Rafael woke up the fog had vanished. His plane was now flying level over open ocean in every direction. An hour had passed and he was hundreds of miles from where he should have been. Air traffic control in Acapulco had tracked him the entire time and was frantically calling his name. During that missing hour the radio recording captured his voice changing into a deep garbled tone that was clearly not his own. The entity speaking through him delivered the chilling message above while air traffic controllers listened in real time. They later described being deeply unsettled by what they heard. Rafael remembered nothing of the transmission or the events while he was unconscious. He regained control, landed safely, and was immediately approached by government officials. He never flew again. The audio recording of the incident still exists today. Reports claim Mexican authorities once tried to bury the case in official archives.

Mexican Pilot Rafael Pacheco Pérez During His 1976 Flight: This is not Rafael. We come to you from another planet. We are using his body as a microphone. You need to understand that your species is on the brink of destruction because of nuclear weapons. The 23 year old student pilot was on a short practice flight near Mexico City when thick fog suddenly rolled in. His plane controls became completely unresponsive. He could not descend or turn the aircraft no matter what he tried. As he radioed air traffic control for help he began losing consciousness and blacked out. When Rafael woke up the fog had vanished. His plane was now flying level over open ocean in every direction. An hour had passed and he was hundreds of miles from where he should have been. Air traffic control in Acapulco had tracked him the entire time and was frantically calling his name. During that missing hour the radio recording captured his voice changing into a deep garbled tone that was clearly not his own. The entity speaking through him delivered the chilling message above while air traffic controllers listened in real time. They later described being deeply unsettled by what they heard. Rafael remembered nothing of the transmission or the events while he was unconscious. He regained control, landed safely, and was immediately approached by government officials. He never flew again. The audio recording of the incident still exists today. Reports claim Mexican authorities once tried to bury the case in official archives.

Interstellar

80,506 görüntüleme • 3 ay önce

🚨 GENERAL KHAN IS FINISHED, CHOMIS! 🚨 "The drugs belonged to General Khan, and that explains his behaviour on the day of the bust." Yoh, my fellow Dlangarians, indaba ikhona—I am completely defeated! Please watch and listen to this skandaal! At this point, General Khan needs to pack away his gym clothes sharp-sharp. He will have decades to pump iron behind bars! Instead, he must dedicate his few remaining days of fleshing to pure luxury. Here is his official "Last Days of Freedom" itinerary: ● 4:00 AM: Wake up and soak in a hot bath with bath salts and candles to calm those prison jitters. ● 5:00 AM: First breakfast—steaming Idli and Sambar. ● 9:00 AM: Second breakfast—crispy Masala Dosa, asvaais with rotis in between. ● 12:00 PM: Lunch—rich Butter Chicken and Dal Makhani, chased down with hot samoosas. ● 3:00 PM: Second lunch—heavy Chole Bhature because time is running out! After eating, he needs to take a long, slow swim while sipping his most expensive bubbly. Finally, the grand finale: a massive family dinner featuring Rogan Josh and Basmati rice. But forget the small talk, General! This is the moment to spit the real banyana. Pass over the banking PINs. Disclose the hidden skorokoro businesses. Reveal where the secret moolah is stashed. 😆 🤣 The family is going to need every single cent to survive this nyuku shortage! 💸 He better breathe in the fresh air and enjoy every bite while he can, because iyoooooh! Grootman is going straight to tshini! #MadlangaCommission #ProtectGeneralMkhwanazi

🚨 GENERAL KHAN IS FINISHED, CHOMIS! 🚨 "The drugs belonged to General Khan, and that explains his behaviour on the day of the bust." Yoh, my fellow Dlangarians, indaba ikhona—I am completely defeated! Please watch and listen to this skandaal! At this point, General Khan needs to pack away his gym clothes sharp-sharp. He will have decades to pump iron behind bars! Instead, he must dedicate his few remaining days of fleshing to pure luxury. Here is his official "Last Days of Freedom" itinerary: ● 4:00 AM: Wake up and soak in a hot bath with bath salts and candles to calm those prison jitters. ● 5:00 AM: First breakfast—steaming Idli and Sambar. ● 9:00 AM: Second breakfast—crispy Masala Dosa, asvaais with rotis in between. ● 12:00 PM: Lunch—rich Butter Chicken and Dal Makhani, chased down with hot samoosas. ● 3:00 PM: Second lunch—heavy Chole Bhature because time is running out! After eating, he needs to take a long, slow swim while sipping his most expensive bubbly. Finally, the grand finale: a massive family dinner featuring Rogan Josh and Basmati rice. But forget the small talk, General! This is the moment to spit the real banyana. Pass over the banking PINs. Disclose the hidden skorokoro businesses. Reveal where the secret moolah is stashed. 😆 🤣 The family is going to need every single cent to survive this nyuku shortage! 💸 He better breathe in the fresh air and enjoy every bite while he can, because iyoooooh! Grootman is going straight to tshini! #MadlangaCommission #ProtectGeneralMkhwanazi

Kwena Molekwa

149,065 görüntüleme • 3 ay önce