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Jerry's Life Documentary. Full 18 Min vid➡️ Here is a little documentary I made where I talk about my life. Plus some (food crushing, eating fruits from my feet, stomping on his head, drinking water with my sweaty socks, spitting) findom finsub rich paypig humanatm footfetish smelly feet soles...

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Jerry Findom

9,893 subscribers

125,136 Aufrufe • vor 2 Jahren •via X (Twitter)

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Profilbild von 🖤⭐️Miss Bika⭐️🧡💸 Findom & Femdom 🐽1.1k💸🧡
🖤⭐️Miss Bika⭐️🧡💸 Findom & Femdom 🐽1.1k💸🧡vor 2 Jahren

What a good boy 🧡

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mustapha belhmidvor 2 Jahren

Hmmmmm Master

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Tales of Wudan - The Mysterious Old Man In the year 644, as a young student of the Wudan style, it was my job to sweep the training area each morning. ‍ I started this job at 3:45am - and, with vigor, would finish with a few minutes to spare before the 6am training. ‍ There was an old man with no hands and no feet - the only man, to whom Master Po would bow - who would sit atop a tree trunk and watch me complete this task. ‍ Every morning, he appeared and watched in admiration. It was a full 219 years, before I mustered the courage to speak with him. “Why do you watch me sweep?” I asked, puzzled. ‍ “Ah, young Cobra, what better unison of the hands and the feet than sweeping a floor? If you were in my position, you would savour the task!” he replied. ‍ I looked at the stumps where his hands and feet once were, then looked up at him. He knew what I wanted to ask... But I was afraid to appear disrespectful. ‍ Truly, it was none of my business. Curiosity got the better of me. “What happened to you?” I said, looking towards the ground. ‍ I was sure he was contemplating reprimanding me. I was pleased, when he began to speak. ‍ “Wudan was not always such a peaceful place,” he began. “Warring tribes fought for this mountains power and strange creatures lurked in every corner. Before myself and a few brave others, including Master Po, banished them from the mountain.” ‍ I placed my broom on the floor, sat down and continued to listen. ‍ “While fighting bandits near the Yushu river, a water snake grabbed my right foot and began to pull me under. Fearing for my life, and unable to see the snake through the bloodied water, I removed my right foot with one slice of my sword. The only alternative was to drown.” ‍ Still looking down, I raised my eyes to take a glimpse at his right stump. “What about your left foot?” I asked. ‍ He placed his right leg under his robe and exposed his left before continuing his story. ‍ “The next day, I was limping and slowing the group down. I asked to be left to die, but Po demanded that I fight. Soon, a daughter of a previously slain bandit had spotted us and fired an arrow from a ridge which landed squarely in my left foot. Fearing gangrene, I removed my left foot with one slice of my sword.” ‍ “What happened to your hands?” I asked quickly. ‍ “My left hand was snared by a Golden Dragon in that now empty cave you children enjoy, to avoid being pulled into darkness and killed. I removed my left hand with one slice of my sword...” ‍ He paused. “My right hand was caught in a bear trap the same afternoon, fearing death, I removed it with my teeth.” ‍ I looked at his right hands stump. It was ragged. Not a clean cut like the others. It still looked painful. He looked relieved when the story was over, it pained him to relive the events. ‍ He took a sigh of relief and moved his gaze from me back over to the floor I was sweeping. I however was confused. ‍ “How did you find the strength, to remove limb after limb in such gruesome fashion? I don’t think I could do that.” ‍ He smiled. “Well then you would be dead. And you would never tell your story to anybody, would you? I didn’t find the strength to die.” ‍ I bowed and returned to sweeping. The conversation made me minutes late for training. Master Po beat me severely. ‍ The next morning when I rose to sweep, the man was not there. I never saw him again. ‍ Such is the way of Wudan.
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Queen Yama plugs 🔌

67,748 Aufrufe • vor 1 Jahr

I want to share this message with all of you that I posted for my subscribers the other day here on X. One thing I’m most proud of is that my message exposing Pizzagate, including Mike Smith’s Out of Shadows documentary, went as viral and as far as it did moving the needle big time because of YOU guys! Crux (Mike Smith) and I gave up almost everything including our careers, money, our ability to make money, security and so much more to get the truth about Pizzagate out there. We did not have support from anyone in mainstream media and very little support in conservative media. Where we did have the support from is the brilliant anons, amazing patriots, truth seekers around the world and the legendary Q. Thanks to you badass frens we managed to wake up over 100 million people in 2020 alone in at least 25 different languages. That is so gangsta and I take it as a total badge of honor that we didn’t have any elites in the media or Con Inc or the big influencers behind us. It happened because of We The People and our collective efforts — we had the power and we made a difference! 👊🏽 Pizzagate is my life’s work and everyone knows that. I have fought every single day since October of 2016 when Pizzagate first broke to get this exposed simply because I care about children and the truth. I have a decade worth of receipts proving this from literally hundreds of hit pieces from print news to all the cable networks and also morning shows and late night talk shows. I had to move at least 9 times for my safety, had to leave the country, dealt with several death threats, attempts at my life, them trying to kill my dog more than once and successfully managing to poison him among many other horrific things that have made my life a living nightmare. No one can take my street cred away from me no matter what, period. I know what Mike and I did, the People know and most importantly God knows. So thank you to all of my supporters and the anons — we are here today because of you guys! WWG1WGA Forever! 🦅🇺🇸
4:17

I want to share this message with all of you that I posted for my subscribers the other day here on X. One thing I’m most proud of is that my message exposing Pizzagate, including Mike Smith’s Out of Shadows documentary, went as viral and as far as it did moving the needle big time because of YOU guys! Crux (Mike Smith) and I gave up almost everything including our careers, money, our ability to make money, security and so much more to get the truth about Pizzagate out there. We did not have support from anyone in mainstream media and very little support in conservative media. Where we did have the support from is the brilliant anons, amazing patriots, truth seekers around the world and the legendary Q. Thanks to you badass frens we managed to wake up over 100 million people in 2020 alone in at least 25 different languages. That is so gangsta and I take it as a total badge of honor that we didn’t have any elites in the media or Con Inc or the big influencers behind us. It happened because of We The People and our collective efforts — we had the power and we made a difference! 👊🏽 Pizzagate is my life’s work and everyone knows that. I have fought every single day since October of 2016 when Pizzagate first broke to get this exposed simply because I care about children and the truth. I have a decade worth of receipts proving this from literally hundreds of hit pieces from print news to all the cable networks and also morning shows and late night talk shows. I had to move at least 9 times for my safety, had to leave the country, dealt with several death threats, attempts at my life, them trying to kill my dog more than once and successfully managing to poison him among many other horrific things that have made my life a living nightmare. No one can take my street cred away from me no matter what, period. I know what Mike and I did, the People know and most importantly God knows. So thank you to all of my supporters and the anons — we are here today because of you guys! WWG1WGA Forever! 🦅🇺🇸

LIZ CROKIN

324,641 Aufrufe • vor 7 Monaten

This is Apollo. This story still stings. I returned from a tour in Iraq in early 2015. My wife was pregnant with our first son. I knew I would not be going anywhere for several months, unless there was a dire need. We decided the time was right to get a dog to add to our growing family. I don't remember how we found Apollo. We got him from the shelter, but I don't know if Dolly saw him online or if we just stumbled across him. I was struck by his amazing eyes. I'd had an Australian Shepherd before and I knew it was a breed that I loved. He hopped right in my car. Dolly even took the back seat so I could sit next to my new best friend. Together, we brought him to his new home. What a great dog he was. We immediately became tied at the hip. I took him for walks, runs, and hikes off leash. I put in the time to train him; we would walk to the bakery or the butcher shop (at the time, we lived the town life), tell him to sit outside, and he would be there on the sidewalk still sitting here when we came out. It was wonderful having such a happy and well-trained dog. Everybody loved him. They'd never seen a dog with eyes like his. I'm sure he loved all the attention too. My first concern came with my newborn son. He did not do as well with children as I would have liked. At times, he gave him a sideways glance that I didn't like. I kept an eye on him as best I could when he was around my son, but he had given me no reason not to trust him, so I didn't worry much. He was wonderful in every other way. Then, suddenly, he wasn't. We had a notary over to collect signatures from us so we could close on a refinance of our home. After sitting at our dining room table for about an hour, signing papers, the notary rose to leave. Apollo, who had been sitting at my feet, must have been startled by the sudden movement. Like a bolt of lightning, he bit. Just once, but it was a shock. The notary was a real mensch. He didn't get angry. He showed humanity. He knew that we would never have had Apollo unrestrained if we had had any idea that he would do something like that. If only everyone was so understanding as he. But fear crept into my heart that there was something about my dog that was not compatible with the family life that we had. We kept Apollo on a shorter leash after that, both figuratively and literally. The off leash hikes were a thing of the past, but we hoped this would prove to be just a one-off anomaly. It wasn't. A month and a half later, just days out from another deployment, I was sitting in my living room talking to a very good friend, a Master Gunnery Sergeant in the USMC (who, as an aside, donated $1,000 to our GiveSendGo campaign to #SaveLucy, thank you 🙏). Apollo was familiar with him already, so I was off my guard, and didn't notice Apollo giving him the stinkeye until it was too late. Apollo lunged and bit. He immediately backed off, but the horrid realization came to me at that moment that my fears were true. My options were limited on the eve of a deployment. To socialize Apollo and train this behavior out of him would take time. I didn't have time. We also didn't have family in the area and Dolly was pregnant again. I couldn't leave my pregnant wife alone for the duration of my tour with a dog who had shown a tendency to bite. I couldn't turn a blind eye to the sideways look he occasionally gave my infant son. Not anymore. I made the devastating decision to rehome him. On what I knew would be our final ride together, he hopped right into the front seat and looked at me, tongue dangling out of his mouth in a happy, sloppy pant, his nub of a tail bobbing up and down, wondering what wonderful adventure daddy was taking him on this time. I'm sure he was confident it was going to be a great time no matter what. It felt like betrayal to me. When we reached the shelter, he faithfully followed me in. We sat in a corner. He leaned against my legs and I stroked his head one final time. It felt like we sat there forever, but I didn't mind. I would have been happy for time to stop, to stay in that moment, just me and my dog, stripped of all externalities, for eternity. But time didn't stop. At length, the door opened and a lady entered. Apollo pressed in against my shins. His 40 pound weight felt heavy. Crushing. I gave him one last embrace, then closed my eyes. "That's a good boy," I whispered, though I couldn't bring myself to look. "I'll always love you." She took Apollo and led him through the door, never for me to see him again. Even today, when I close my eyes, I can still feel the weight of his warm body pressing against mine, trusting me to keep him safe. That was as hard a thing as I've ever done in my life. It was a no-kill shelter, but I played things close to the chest. I did not tell them the worst details. I only mentioned my fear of possible aggression against my child while I was deployed. I did not want to jeopardize Apollo's chance at another opportunity. For months, I kept checking the shelter's website for information about him, but I never saw an update. I do not know what became of him, sadly. I got back home and Dolly asked me where Apollo was. I don't remember if I said anything. I was numb. I hadn't told her where I was going or what I was doing. I had not wanted anything to change my mind. I knew my heart wasn't in it, but I wasn't going to be stopped. It was the right thing to do for my wife, son, and community. Her tears flowed when she realized what I had done. She also loved Apollo. I went to lay on the bed upstairs and be alone. Just weeks later, in a mudhole in the desert, I met my sweet Lucy and my heart began to heal. Saving her from that war zone helped me deal with the lingering guilt I felt about Apollo. I continue to feel the sting of that experience. I wouldn't change what I did though. I love dogs. I will always stand up for dogs when they are mistreated. I will adopt unwanted dogs when I am able. A great measure of a man is how he treats dogs. I aim to always pass that test. But I will always defend human life. Only humans are made in the image of God. I hope and pray that God has a place for dogs when this life is over, but humans He created with souls destined for glory. "You have never talked to a mere mortal," CS Lewis explained. "Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors." I completely agree. I love dogs. They have no guile in them, no duplicity. A dog will not tell you a lie. I like them better than I like people, often. But I cannot choose a dog over a life that was uniquely created to glorify the Almighty (Isaiah 43:7). I will always protect human life. That is why I served. That is why I deployed several times. To protect people, even when they didn't realize they needed protecting. I failed once. I received a report about a plot to blow up a bomb in Beirut. I got it out with all the speed and precision I could, but it got bogged down by the sideshow of the editing process for hours. I got distracted and didn't follow up on it aggressively. In the end, I'm sure the bureaucrats in their cubicles transliterated the names correctly. I'm sure they crossed every T and dotted every I. But at a price. A devastating price. I woke up the next morning to read in the news that a bomb had gone off in Beirut. It was carried out by the people my report said would carry it out. It took place in the exact locale I said it would take place. 43 people dead. Hundreds wounded. Families shattered. I didn't know these people, but my heart sank. Human life is sacred. I will always work to defend it. If I can save a few dogs along the way, great. That is also the Lord's work. But I will never keep a dog that is a danger to my neighbors. Whatever their sins, their harassment, libel, and cunning deceits, they are made in the image of God with souls destined for eternity. Lucy, my 11-year-old dog that survived ISIS, is no danger to my them. I know it in my very bones. The Mountains Have Eyes said that the DA told him I was not a responsible dog owner when he called to inquire about Lucy. This viewpoint is informed by a false impression given to her by our gossipy, well-connected neighbors, not by the facts. I want to tell her about Apollo. Dolly Spice- Jones 🌱🎵 Leisha
1:09

This is Apollo. This story still stings. I returned from a tour in Iraq in early 2015. My wife was pregnant with our first son. I knew I would not be going anywhere for several months, unless there was a dire need. We decided the time was right to get a dog to add to our growing family. I don't remember how we found Apollo. We got him from the shelter, but I don't know if Dolly saw him online or if we just stumbled across him. I was struck by his amazing eyes. I'd had an Australian Shepherd before and I knew it was a breed that I loved. He hopped right in my car. Dolly even took the back seat so I could sit next to my new best friend. Together, we brought him to his new home. What a great dog he was. We immediately became tied at the hip. I took him for walks, runs, and hikes off leash. I put in the time to train him; we would walk to the bakery or the butcher shop (at the time, we lived the town life), tell him to sit outside, and he would be there on the sidewalk still sitting here when we came out. It was wonderful having such a happy and well-trained dog. Everybody loved him. They'd never seen a dog with eyes like his. I'm sure he loved all the attention too. My first concern came with my newborn son. He did not do as well with children as I would have liked. At times, he gave him a sideways glance that I didn't like. I kept an eye on him as best I could when he was around my son, but he had given me no reason not to trust him, so I didn't worry much. He was wonderful in every other way. Then, suddenly, he wasn't. We had a notary over to collect signatures from us so we could close on a refinance of our home. After sitting at our dining room table for about an hour, signing papers, the notary rose to leave. Apollo, who had been sitting at my feet, must have been startled by the sudden movement. Like a bolt of lightning, he bit. Just once, but it was a shock. The notary was a real mensch. He didn't get angry. He showed humanity. He knew that we would never have had Apollo unrestrained if we had had any idea that he would do something like that. If only everyone was so understanding as he. But fear crept into my heart that there was something about my dog that was not compatible with the family life that we had. We kept Apollo on a shorter leash after that, both figuratively and literally. The off leash hikes were a thing of the past, but we hoped this would prove to be just a one-off anomaly. It wasn't. A month and a half later, just days out from another deployment, I was sitting in my living room talking to a very good friend, a Master Gunnery Sergeant in the USMC (who, as an aside, donated $1,000 to our GiveSendGo campaign to #SaveLucy, thank you 🙏). Apollo was familiar with him already, so I was off my guard, and didn't notice Apollo giving him the stinkeye until it was too late. Apollo lunged and bit. He immediately backed off, but the horrid realization came to me at that moment that my fears were true. My options were limited on the eve of a deployment. To socialize Apollo and train this behavior out of him would take time. I didn't have time. We also didn't have family in the area and Dolly was pregnant again. I couldn't leave my pregnant wife alone for the duration of my tour with a dog who had shown a tendency to bite. I couldn't turn a blind eye to the sideways look he occasionally gave my infant son. Not anymore. I made the devastating decision to rehome him. On what I knew would be our final ride together, he hopped right into the front seat and looked at me, tongue dangling out of his mouth in a happy, sloppy pant, his nub of a tail bobbing up and down, wondering what wonderful adventure daddy was taking him on this time. I'm sure he was confident it was going to be a great time no matter what. It felt like betrayal to me. When we reached the shelter, he faithfully followed me in. We sat in a corner. He leaned against my legs and I stroked his head one final time. It felt like we sat there forever, but I didn't mind. I would have been happy for time to stop, to stay in that moment, just me and my dog, stripped of all externalities, for eternity. But time didn't stop. At length, the door opened and a lady entered. Apollo pressed in against my shins. His 40 pound weight felt heavy. Crushing. I gave him one last embrace, then closed my eyes. "That's a good boy," I whispered, though I couldn't bring myself to look. "I'll always love you." She took Apollo and led him through the door, never for me to see him again. Even today, when I close my eyes, I can still feel the weight of his warm body pressing against mine, trusting me to keep him safe. That was as hard a thing as I've ever done in my life. It was a no-kill shelter, but I played things close to the chest. I did not tell them the worst details. I only mentioned my fear of possible aggression against my child while I was deployed. I did not want to jeopardize Apollo's chance at another opportunity. For months, I kept checking the shelter's website for information about him, but I never saw an update. I do not know what became of him, sadly. I got back home and Dolly asked me where Apollo was. I don't remember if I said anything. I was numb. I hadn't told her where I was going or what I was doing. I had not wanted anything to change my mind. I knew my heart wasn't in it, but I wasn't going to be stopped. It was the right thing to do for my wife, son, and community. Her tears flowed when she realized what I had done. She also loved Apollo. I went to lay on the bed upstairs and be alone. Just weeks later, in a mudhole in the desert, I met my sweet Lucy and my heart began to heal. Saving her from that war zone helped me deal with the lingering guilt I felt about Apollo. I continue to feel the sting of that experience. I wouldn't change what I did though. I love dogs. I will always stand up for dogs when they are mistreated. I will adopt unwanted dogs when I am able. A great measure of a man is how he treats dogs. I aim to always pass that test. But I will always defend human life. Only humans are made in the image of God. I hope and pray that God has a place for dogs when this life is over, but humans He created with souls destined for glory. "You have never talked to a mere mortal," CS Lewis explained. "Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors." I completely agree. I love dogs. They have no guile in them, no duplicity. A dog will not tell you a lie. I like them better than I like people, often. But I cannot choose a dog over a life that was uniquely created to glorify the Almighty (Isaiah 43:7). I will always protect human life. That is why I served. That is why I deployed several times. To protect people, even when they didn't realize they needed protecting. I failed once. I received a report about a plot to blow up a bomb in Beirut. I got it out with all the speed and precision I could, but it got bogged down by the sideshow of the editing process for hours. I got distracted and didn't follow up on it aggressively. In the end, I'm sure the bureaucrats in their cubicles transliterated the names correctly. I'm sure they crossed every T and dotted every I. But at a price. A devastating price. I woke up the next morning to read in the news that a bomb had gone off in Beirut. It was carried out by the people my report said would carry it out. It took place in the exact locale I said it would take place. 43 people dead. Hundreds wounded. Families shattered. I didn't know these people, but my heart sank. Human life is sacred. I will always work to defend it. If I can save a few dogs along the way, great. That is also the Lord's work. But I will never keep a dog that is a danger to my neighbors. Whatever their sins, their harassment, libel, and cunning deceits, they are made in the image of God with souls destined for eternity. Lucy, my 11-year-old dog that survived ISIS, is no danger to my them. I know it in my very bones. The Mountains Have Eyes said that the DA told him I was not a responsible dog owner when he called to inquire about Lucy. This viewpoint is informed by a false impression given to her by our gossipy, well-connected neighbors, not by the facts. I want to tell her about Apollo. Dolly Spice- Jones 🌱🎵 Leisha

Brendan M. Jones 🇺🇸

15,769 Aufrufe • vor 3 Monaten

My partner and I got attacked at Download Festival on Sunday. We just stopped to watch a band and a women sat about 10 feet behind us in a chair marched up behind us and shouted 'f*cking get out of my way'. We told her it's a festival, we can stand where we like and you can stand up if you want to see the band. chill out! A young women next to me said she had said the same to her. The woman then continued a tirade of verbal abuse which included, you are a pair of 'big c*ocks', and 'I am going to hit you'. She then ran up behind me, ripped my hat off my head which pulled my neck back and then threw my hat into the crowd. Her male friend then punched my partner in the face. When I turned I pushed her away from me, she then grabbed my hair and kept pulling it until I was on the ground she then repeatedly kicked me in the head, face and body with her heavy boots . Luckily some wonderful bystanders pulled her away from me, as she was much bigger than me, both in height and width. We went to the security and police and they said because I pushed her I would be offered a Community Resolution, which I refused to accept. They also said we might be evicted from the festival. We were not treated as victims of assault we were treated as trouble makers. The police failed to take a full statement from us and the Download security didn't even bother talking to us, just the people that attacked us. These terrible people weren't arrested or evicted from the festival, they were allowed to stay and to potentially go on to verbally abuse and attack other innocent people. I complained to the police and did another statement yesterday. The man taking the statement was shocked as it did not come across as we were victims at all in the statement taken at the festival. It's shocking that a police office saw the video of me on the floor being repeatedly kicked in the head and face and failed to report it correctly, identify us a victims of assault and evict or arrest our attackers. I am a 55 year old woman with epilepsy, I don't drink or take drugs, my parter is 53 and didn't drink as he was driving. I was looking forward to Download as a distraction as my Mum has just been killed by medical negligence and I have been spending my time dealing with the coroners and all that goes with it. It's been the worst time of my life and this experience has just sent me over the edge. Shame on the police for victim blaming and failing to protect the public from dangerous people. As for the person at Download security you should be ashamed of yourself, believing them over us and not bothering to collect evidence from both sides. I have attached a video of me being attacked and some photos of the aggressive woman. In one of the photos you can see her being held back, so she would have happily gone back in to attack me again. I had to go home as I didn't feel safe staying, as they were still at the festival, plus I wasn't in any fit state to stay. I currently can't work as my chest has been stamped on and i'm struggling to move and breath properly. Eating is fun as the right side of my face and teeth are really uncomfortable and my lip is cut. My vision has also been intermittently blurry and I have felt dizzy. I work for myself, so getting paid time off isn't an option. We did get some witnesses but if you or anyone you know saw this women attacking or verbally abusing anyone please let me know. Let's get the face of the women who thinks it's ok to stamp on someones face and head at Download Festival known. People like this should be banned from any festival for life. A big thanks to all the wonderful people who helped me. Download is a great festival, it's such a shame people like this spoil it for others.
0:24

My partner and I got attacked at Download Festival on Sunday. We just stopped to watch a band and a women sat about 10 feet behind us in a chair marched up behind us and shouted 'f*cking get out of my way'. We told her it's a festival, we can stand where we like and you can stand up if you want to see the band. chill out! A young women next to me said she had said the same to her. The woman then continued a tirade of verbal abuse which included, you are a pair of 'big c*ocks', and 'I am going to hit you'. She then ran up behind me, ripped my hat off my head which pulled my neck back and then threw my hat into the crowd. Her male friend then punched my partner in the face. When I turned I pushed her away from me, she then grabbed my hair and kept pulling it until I was on the ground she then repeatedly kicked me in the head, face and body with her heavy boots . Luckily some wonderful bystanders pulled her away from me, as she was much bigger than me, both in height and width. We went to the security and police and they said because I pushed her I would be offered a Community Resolution, which I refused to accept. They also said we might be evicted from the festival. We were not treated as victims of assault we were treated as trouble makers. The police failed to take a full statement from us and the Download security didn't even bother talking to us, just the people that attacked us. These terrible people weren't arrested or evicted from the festival, they were allowed to stay and to potentially go on to verbally abuse and attack other innocent people. I complained to the police and did another statement yesterday. The man taking the statement was shocked as it did not come across as we were victims at all in the statement taken at the festival. It's shocking that a police office saw the video of me on the floor being repeatedly kicked in the head and face and failed to report it correctly, identify us a victims of assault and evict or arrest our attackers. I am a 55 year old woman with epilepsy, I don't drink or take drugs, my parter is 53 and didn't drink as he was driving. I was looking forward to Download as a distraction as my Mum has just been killed by medical negligence and I have been spending my time dealing with the coroners and all that goes with it. It's been the worst time of my life and this experience has just sent me over the edge. Shame on the police for victim blaming and failing to protect the public from dangerous people. As for the person at Download security you should be ashamed of yourself, believing them over us and not bothering to collect evidence from both sides. I have attached a video of me being attacked and some photos of the aggressive woman. In one of the photos you can see her being held back, so she would have happily gone back in to attack me again. I had to go home as I didn't feel safe staying, as they were still at the festival, plus I wasn't in any fit state to stay. I currently can't work as my chest has been stamped on and i'm struggling to move and breath properly. Eating is fun as the right side of my face and teeth are really uncomfortable and my lip is cut. My vision has also been intermittently blurry and I have felt dizzy. I work for myself, so getting paid time off isn't an option. We did get some witnesses but if you or anyone you know saw this women attacking or verbally abusing anyone please let me know. Let's get the face of the women who thinks it's ok to stamp on someones face and head at Download Festival known. People like this should be banned from any festival for life. A big thanks to all the wonderful people who helped me. Download is a great festival, it's such a shame people like this spoil it for others.

Mandy Youngº

234,350 Aufrufe • vor 2 Monaten

I have a story about addiction from a different perspective. A story where recovery was not possible. I have one sibling. An older brother. Everyone loved him. It was easy to love him. He died 10 years ago. It was a horrible death that took him 20 years to accomplish, dragging everyone who loved him along the way. He was an amazing musician. He didn't read music. No lessons. Hand him any instrument, and he can play it. He had a big heart. He was easily the funniest person I've ever known. And he is the only other human being who speaks fluent movie-script-quotes with precision and skill. But alcohol took over in his mid-20s. Bam Margera is just 2 years younger than my brother. He reminds me of my brother *so* much. Everything Bam and his family went through with his addiction is what my brother and family went through. My brother left high school because he was a gifted songwriter and musician. Bam left because he was a gifted skater. My brother was really into editing and producing films, and so is Bam. When Ryan Dunn died, and Bam went off the deep end, I was watching my brother do the same thing every time a strong emotion hit him, and he simply didn't know what to do with it. My brother was so beautiful on the outside, yet unrecognizable at the end. I can not tell you how many times my brother would go missing. Hundreds of times. He would sometimes go missing for up to a week. Then we'd get a call from the police or a hospital. Usually, the hospital would be first because he'd be near death. Then they would keep him on a 5150 at a mental health facility. Then he would come home. One time, he chased me with a knife in his hand, screaming he was going to kill me as I was running out of my parents' home on a cordless phone dialing 911. I found a fifth of vodka in his room and poured it down the drain. He went looking for it 20 minutes later, and it was empty...and I told him I poured it out. When I was 24 years old, I landed my first job that came with an office. My name was outside of it. I was stoked. I worked my ass off to get there. But there was no happiness at that time in my life. I remember my father calling me at work, sitting in that office, to say he was coming to pick me up because he knew where my brother, who had been missing for 4 days, was. The credit card he stole from my mother showed he was at a little oceanfront motel 10 minutes away. And I remember thinking to myself on the way over there...I have to open the motel room door. I can't let my dad see him hanging. It will destroy his life. I told my dad to wait about 10 feet to my left, and I opened the door, and there was my brother fashioning a sheet into a noose. Another time he went missing, and they found him on the roof of a building with the inside of his arms slashed from elbow to wrist, just lying in a pool of blood. Dark shit. Both of the insides of his arms were mutilated from being sliced open so many times. At least 30, if not more. He stopped wearing short-sleeved shirts in public about 10 years before he died. He got to the point of seizures when he withdrew and had alcohol-related dementia for the last 3 years of his life, which would come and go. Then one day, after 2 decades, he called my parents and said something was wrong. My parents went over to his place, ended up calling 911, the ambulance got there, and he started walking outside with assistance from paramedics and collapsed. In front of my parents. He was rushed to the hospital. I had not seen my brother for the last 9 years of his life. He disowned me. Because he felt he had to. He killed my dog when he got drunk 9 years before he died. No one knows if he meant to or not, he was so wasted. He couldn't face me after that. So he disowned me. And a piece of my heart died the day he did it. I talked to my parents right before they left to see what was wrong that day. The last thing I said to my dad was, "Do not let him die without me having an opportunity to say goodbye." My dad called me from the er 2 hours later and said, "You should come over now. He won't know you're here." When I got there, I was shocked at what I saw. He wasn't the right color. He was in a coma. Severe internal bleeding. On life support. It was jarring even after seeing him in a much similar state hundreds of times for such a long time. He was taken to the ICU 3 hours later, where they would transfuse blood by the bag damn near constantly, and it just shot out of his nose. It was bloody. A lot of blood. After about 6 hours, I told my parents to go home and get some rest. I would stay with him. And I talked to him like he was right there. Like one of the hundreds of pillow-fort slumber parties we had as kids. Like no time had passed, and his addiction never existed. I showed him pictures of my life over the past decade on my phone...just like he was there. But he wasn't there. And after 3 hours and extensive talks with several doctors and specialists, I had to make the decision to remove his life support. After my parents returned and said goodbye, I told them to wait out in the hall until he passed because I could not allow them to have the memory of him dying, and I returned to my brother's side, and said what I needed to say, bawling my heart out. I told them to turn off the machines, and I held him in my arms as he died. It took just over 7 minutes. And I just held him. I had Nine Inch Nails playing for him. One of his favorites thanks to Pretty Hate Machine. He was a fan for life after that. He was my best friend. But he was also someone I had to protect myself from if he was intoxicated. This is the end that usually becomes a reality for addicts and their families. Then there's someone like Bam Margera. He went to the same place my brother went to in his head. And he came back. Bam is one of the greatest comebacks ever and a story of recovery worth knowing. I see YouTube shorts of Bam skating again every day, and I'm so moved that I just sit here and cry. You can see his personality is back. You have no idea how rare that is. Their personality shows very little while they're in their addiction. Recovery stories are incredibly personal to so many people, including those who have gone through addiction with an addict because they love them so much...they'd see anything they had to see and endure anything they have to endure just to be there with them at their lowest point. Addicts are not monsters. The stuff they use to numb the pain they do not understand is the real monster. And when you put enough of that into a human being, they do things they would *never* do without it. People are not pure. We are more complex than that. We are good and bad. Light and dark. Right and wrong. Chaotic and serene. You will find that the answer to every question you have about life is usually "both" for a reason. Because one can not exist without the other. With recovery stories like Hunter Biden's and Bam Margera's out in the ether, more people will be less ignorant as to how this disease plays out, and that will do nothing but good for so many families struggling with this issue. Addiction isn't just for the addict. Addiction is for everyone who loves them, as well. It's just a different perspective of hell. So listen to recovery stories with renewed respect because most addicts end up the way it ended for the only sibling I'll ever have.
2:04

I have a story about addiction from a different perspective. A story where recovery was not possible. I have one sibling. An older brother. Everyone loved him. It was easy to love him. He died 10 years ago. It was a horrible death that took him 20 years to accomplish, dragging everyone who loved him along the way. He was an amazing musician. He didn't read music. No lessons. Hand him any instrument, and he can play it. He had a big heart. He was easily the funniest person I've ever known. And he is the only other human being who speaks fluent movie-script-quotes with precision and skill. But alcohol took over in his mid-20s. Bam Margera is just 2 years younger than my brother. He reminds me of my brother *so* much. Everything Bam and his family went through with his addiction is what my brother and family went through. My brother left high school because he was a gifted songwriter and musician. Bam left because he was a gifted skater. My brother was really into editing and producing films, and so is Bam. When Ryan Dunn died, and Bam went off the deep end, I was watching my brother do the same thing every time a strong emotion hit him, and he simply didn't know what to do with it. My brother was so beautiful on the outside, yet unrecognizable at the end. I can not tell you how many times my brother would go missing. Hundreds of times. He would sometimes go missing for up to a week. Then we'd get a call from the police or a hospital. Usually, the hospital would be first because he'd be near death. Then they would keep him on a 5150 at a mental health facility. Then he would come home. One time, he chased me with a knife in his hand, screaming he was going to kill me as I was running out of my parents' home on a cordless phone dialing 911. I found a fifth of vodka in his room and poured it down the drain. He went looking for it 20 minutes later, and it was empty...and I told him I poured it out. When I was 24 years old, I landed my first job that came with an office. My name was outside of it. I was stoked. I worked my ass off to get there. But there was no happiness at that time in my life. I remember my father calling me at work, sitting in that office, to say he was coming to pick me up because he knew where my brother, who had been missing for 4 days, was. The credit card he stole from my mother showed he was at a little oceanfront motel 10 minutes away. And I remember thinking to myself on the way over there...I have to open the motel room door. I can't let my dad see him hanging. It will destroy his life. I told my dad to wait about 10 feet to my left, and I opened the door, and there was my brother fashioning a sheet into a noose. Another time he went missing, and they found him on the roof of a building with the inside of his arms slashed from elbow to wrist, just lying in a pool of blood. Dark shit. Both of the insides of his arms were mutilated from being sliced open so many times. At least 30, if not more. He stopped wearing short-sleeved shirts in public about 10 years before he died. He got to the point of seizures when he withdrew and had alcohol-related dementia for the last 3 years of his life, which would come and go. Then one day, after 2 decades, he called my parents and said something was wrong. My parents went over to his place, ended up calling 911, the ambulance got there, and he started walking outside with assistance from paramedics and collapsed. In front of my parents. He was rushed to the hospital. I had not seen my brother for the last 9 years of his life. He disowned me. Because he felt he had to. He killed my dog when he got drunk 9 years before he died. No one knows if he meant to or not, he was so wasted. He couldn't face me after that. So he disowned me. And a piece of my heart died the day he did it. I talked to my parents right before they left to see what was wrong that day. The last thing I said to my dad was, "Do not let him die without me having an opportunity to say goodbye." My dad called me from the er 2 hours later and said, "You should come over now. He won't know you're here." When I got there, I was shocked at what I saw. He wasn't the right color. He was in a coma. Severe internal bleeding. On life support. It was jarring even after seeing him in a much similar state hundreds of times for such a long time. He was taken to the ICU 3 hours later, where they would transfuse blood by the bag damn near constantly, and it just shot out of his nose. It was bloody. A lot of blood. After about 6 hours, I told my parents to go home and get some rest. I would stay with him. And I talked to him like he was right there. Like one of the hundreds of pillow-fort slumber parties we had as kids. Like no time had passed, and his addiction never existed. I showed him pictures of my life over the past decade on my phone...just like he was there. But he wasn't there. And after 3 hours and extensive talks with several doctors and specialists, I had to make the decision to remove his life support. After my parents returned and said goodbye, I told them to wait out in the hall until he passed because I could not allow them to have the memory of him dying, and I returned to my brother's side, and said what I needed to say, bawling my heart out. I told them to turn off the machines, and I held him in my arms as he died. It took just over 7 minutes. And I just held him. I had Nine Inch Nails playing for him. One of his favorites thanks to Pretty Hate Machine. He was a fan for life after that. He was my best friend. But he was also someone I had to protect myself from if he was intoxicated. This is the end that usually becomes a reality for addicts and their families. Then there's someone like Bam Margera. He went to the same place my brother went to in his head. And he came back. Bam is one of the greatest comebacks ever and a story of recovery worth knowing. I see YouTube shorts of Bam skating again every day, and I'm so moved that I just sit here and cry. You can see his personality is back. You have no idea how rare that is. Their personality shows very little while they're in their addiction. Recovery stories are incredibly personal to so many people, including those who have gone through addiction with an addict because they love them so much...they'd see anything they had to see and endure anything they have to endure just to be there with them at their lowest point. Addicts are not monsters. The stuff they use to numb the pain they do not understand is the real monster. And when you put enough of that into a human being, they do things they would *never* do without it. People are not pure. We are more complex than that. We are good and bad. Light and dark. Right and wrong. Chaotic and serene. You will find that the answer to every question you have about life is usually "both" for a reason. Because one can not exist without the other. With recovery stories like Hunter Biden's and Bam Margera's out in the ether, more people will be less ignorant as to how this disease plays out, and that will do nothing but good for so many families struggling with this issue. Addiction isn't just for the addict. Addiction is for everyone who loves them, as well. It's just a different perspective of hell. So listen to recovery stories with renewed respect because most addicts end up the way it ended for the only sibling I'll ever have.

Nicole Minét

408,300 Aufrufe • vor 2 Monaten

I just play it on repeat since yesterday: "Hello Pope Leo XIV, I'm Renzo, I'm six years old. I'd like to ask you a few questions." Renzo, a little a boy from the poor neighborhood of Barcelona, stole the show yesterday at St. Augustine's parish, a place where Pope Leo admitted he "feels at home." Renzo in the sweetest way ever asked those questions to the pope: Do you like soccer? When you were little, did you want to be Pope? Why are my mom and dad worried? Why does my dad have so many jobs? Why do bad things happen to some people and not to others? Whose fault is it? Why are there so many people living on the streets? Does no one see them? Does no one help them? How can we help if the world is so big? Does God want there to be poor and rich? Why are there so many lonely grandparents, if they are so important? And one last question ... Must we always forgive? What pope Leo answered the boy was really moving. "Regarding whether I like football, I confess that I play tennis and I enjoy it very much, but I also appreciate football; in fact, during my years as bishop in Peru, I liked to follow how some local teams were doing; and now, as Pope, I have also received football clubs and sports groups," the pope said, adding that "sport is important because it helps us grow up healthy in body and mind." He said that as World Cup unfolds, "many will be watching the matches. Football reminds us of something we must not forget: life is not a race to show off alone, but a path we learn to travel together." "Whoever doesn't know how to pass the ball, even if they have talent, hasn't yet understood the game. And whoever doesn't know how to live with others and for others hasn't yet understood life." Answering whether he wanted to be Pope when he was little, the pope said: "Well, Renzo, I don't think so. I don't think I ever thought about it." "But I can tell you something: from a young age, I felt the desire to dedicate my life to God. I didn't yet know exactly how or where the Lord would lead me. Over time, I discovered that Jesus was calling me to follow him as a priest, and that this path led through the Order of Saint Augustine." "But this isn't just true for me," he said. "Every child is a dream of God. You are too. God desires the happiness of all and wants us, from childhood and throughout our lives, to have a heart like that of children (cf. Mt 18:3): capable of trusting, full of kindness; he wants us to be his friends and not turn away from him. Therefore, more important than asking oneself whether one will be a priest, doctor, teacher, parent, or anything else, is asking oneself whether one wants to be a friend of Jesus. Because friendship with Jesus gives us joy, sets us free, and helps us to see, step by step, the vocation and the path that God has planned for each of us." Answering the point on injustices in the world, Pope Leo told the boy that "through the life of Jesus Christ, God shows us that, although there is suffering, he never abandons any of his children, because he has prepared for us an eternal joy where there will be no more sadness or pain. Let us have confidence, Jesus is with us, he helps us and accompanies us, and gives us strength to go through the difficult moments we may encounter in life." Stressing that grandparents play a crucial role in families, the pope said: "Let us not allow loneliness and abandonment to become normalized in the lives of older adults. That is a very sad thing. Let's have our hearts open to all of them." On forgiveness, he told Renzo and those gathered: "It does not mean forgetting by force, as if nothing had happened. Forgiveness means not letting hatred become the master of our hearts ... our willingness to forgive is a condition for the forgiveness we receive from God." Video: Vatican Media
1:50

I just play it on repeat since yesterday: "Hello Pope Leo XIV, I'm Renzo, I'm six years old. I'd like to ask you a few questions." Renzo, a little a boy from the poor neighborhood of Barcelona, stole the show yesterday at St. Augustine's parish, a place where Pope Leo admitted he "feels at home." Renzo in the sweetest way ever asked those questions to the pope: Do you like soccer? When you were little, did you want to be Pope? Why are my mom and dad worried? Why does my dad have so many jobs? Why do bad things happen to some people and not to others? Whose fault is it? Why are there so many people living on the streets? Does no one see them? Does no one help them? How can we help if the world is so big? Does God want there to be poor and rich? Why are there so many lonely grandparents, if they are so important? And one last question ... Must we always forgive? What pope Leo answered the boy was really moving. "Regarding whether I like football, I confess that I play tennis and I enjoy it very much, but I also appreciate football; in fact, during my years as bishop in Peru, I liked to follow how some local teams were doing; and now, as Pope, I have also received football clubs and sports groups," the pope said, adding that "sport is important because it helps us grow up healthy in body and mind." He said that as World Cup unfolds, "many will be watching the matches. Football reminds us of something we must not forget: life is not a race to show off alone, but a path we learn to travel together." "Whoever doesn't know how to pass the ball, even if they have talent, hasn't yet understood the game. And whoever doesn't know how to live with others and for others hasn't yet understood life." Answering whether he wanted to be Pope when he was little, the pope said: "Well, Renzo, I don't think so. I don't think I ever thought about it." "But I can tell you something: from a young age, I felt the desire to dedicate my life to God. I didn't yet know exactly how or where the Lord would lead me. Over time, I discovered that Jesus was calling me to follow him as a priest, and that this path led through the Order of Saint Augustine." "But this isn't just true for me," he said. "Every child is a dream of God. You are too. God desires the happiness of all and wants us, from childhood and throughout our lives, to have a heart like that of children (cf. Mt 18:3): capable of trusting, full of kindness; he wants us to be his friends and not turn away from him. Therefore, more important than asking oneself whether one will be a priest, doctor, teacher, parent, or anything else, is asking oneself whether one wants to be a friend of Jesus. Because friendship with Jesus gives us joy, sets us free, and helps us to see, step by step, the vocation and the path that God has planned for each of us." Answering the point on injustices in the world, Pope Leo told the boy that "through the life of Jesus Christ, God shows us that, although there is suffering, he never abandons any of his children, because he has prepared for us an eternal joy where there will be no more sadness or pain. Let us have confidence, Jesus is with us, he helps us and accompanies us, and gives us strength to go through the difficult moments we may encounter in life." Stressing that grandparents play a crucial role in families, the pope said: "Let us not allow loneliness and abandonment to become normalized in the lives of older adults. That is a very sad thing. Let's have our hearts open to all of them." On forgiveness, he told Renzo and those gathered: "It does not mean forgetting by force, as if nothing had happened. Forgiveness means not letting hatred become the master of our hearts ... our willingness to forgive is a condition for the forgiveness we receive from God." Video: Vatican Media

Paulina Guzik

245,247 Aufrufe • vor 2 Monaten