2021.09.20 07:51 confusion123_ For the past couple of weeks I’ve been rating woman’s feet and telling them whether or not they should sell feet pics.
I finally came out recently and said I have a foot fetish. I’ve been hiding it from everyone in my life since I was a kid. Once I finally came out and said it, several women started asking me to rate their feet and asking if they could make money off their feet. I’ve also ended up buying some of their feet pics. I don’t mind helping others but I never thought I would end up doing this.
submitted by confusion123_ to confessions [link] [comments]
2021.09.20 07:51 itsrockysingh Wayne now sounds his best since 2012
I felt this way about 2016 Drake, I heard Summer Sixteen and then Wayne's single with KSI, they sound so similar quality wise and I'm so happy to realize this. He's using the bass in his voice a lot more now like his old self and his vowels are much more impactful. This is the best new Wayne since his 2008-2014 run that we're witnessing here.
submitted by itsrockysingh to lilwayne [link] [comments]
2021.09.20 07:51 ohnosethrowaway Fall flightseeing?
Hi! I’m spending some time in Alaska (starting now) and I was curious to know if anyone had any recommendations for a fall flightseeing tour for Katmai and/or Lake Clark. Tours preferred, but Charters are totally fine too.
Would be willing to throw down as soon as this week, but unfortunately, I’ll be gone before next summer. I really want to see the bears!
submitted by ohnosethrowaway to alaska [link] [comments]
2021.09.20 07:51 tH3_R3DX Anybody remember when he said this?
2021.09.20 07:51 zigzag980 Belly dancing in the Ottoman Islamic empire. It might be the oldest footage ever of belly dancing.
|submitted by zigzag980 to BellyDanceAdmirers [link] [comments]|
2021.09.20 07:51 ilike2pacshit Trouble in history(freshman)
i’m having trouble doing history work it’s really discouraging. It’s not that hard compared to my other classes it’s just time consuming. I think my main struggle is that you have to read a lot and it takes a long time and the answers are never very clear because they might use old words to cite things. Is there a certain way or something to read a text to automatically find the answer or a strategy to help in history?
submitted by ilike2pacshit to school [link] [comments]
2021.09.20 07:51 TheBlueShrew19 Someone tell me
|submitted by TheBlueShrew19 to shitposting [link] [comments]|
2021.09.20 07:51 Hsks23 [Gifted] for my 2 year RAOA anniversary
|submitted by Hsks23 to Random_Acts_Of_Amazon [link] [comments]|
2021.09.20 07:51 MugShots DPS Alert
2021.09.20 07:51 Warren_Burnouf What are the best books to read concerning the transition from feudalism to forms of capitalism in Europe?
2021.09.20 07:51 14_yr_old Do saal purana retarded comment lmao ded
|submitted by 14_yr_old to lmaoded [link] [comments]|
2021.09.20 07:51 HighArtistDizzy420 Hey looking for friends and a real relationship. I’m 23 trans male canandian and a stoner
2021.09.20 07:51 JavaleONeal free to use soulful boombap type beat "priceless poverty" i post all the time on my channel so if you like what you hear stay tuned for more!
|submitted by JavaleONeal to TruckStopBathroom [link] [comments]|
2021.09.20 07:51 Consistent_Letter647 Did anyone record Los and the guys playing basketball today?
2021.09.20 07:51 isidro3500 Do they ID at tiesto events?? I turn 18 im November and I’m trynna go to his show on OCT-29th but it says 18+ 👀 !!lmk!!
2021.09.20 07:51 heyhihowyahdurn Inexplicable guilt day 4 (or 14)
So basically on day 10 I relapsed, edged for about 8 hours but didn’t bust a nut. I have this feeling of inexplicable guilt in my gut tonight. Like I did something really wrong morally. I don’t know if I’m just getting hit with all the years I’ve let get away from me but it’s sitting in my stomach. Haven’t peaked in the past 4 days.
submitted by heyhihowyahdurn to NoFap [link] [comments]
2021.09.20 07:51 Hammerhead425 Holy Man [ SFM by Rookie425]
|submitted by Hammerhead425 to ImaginaryHalo [link] [comments]|
2021.09.20 07:51 ASavageLost I basically only care about myself. What about you?
EDDIE SNIFFED AND SWEATED around the house, the same way his mother did. His clothes were dirty and stinking. And whatever part he’d had with the cousins for money and ownership of the product they sold dwindled, as his nose bled and he sat at the front door staring up the road, repeating,
“I’m waiting for them. The cops will be here, soon, guys. Cops will be here, soon.”
As the cousins watched their companion deteriorate into one more of the many fiends they sold to, day and night, out of the house or from Aunt Roxy’s passenger window, they said nothing. There were a few different moments, when it had really begun to show itself in Eddie—like the first time his nose bled or the first time he was too scared to leave the house with them for their trip to see Michael down in Española or that time he ran out of product and cried on their bedroom floor for an hour, until they gave him more. In those moments, the cousins had only looked at each other and shrugged. There wasn’t much to say.
Besides, with Eddie out of the picture, Ana and Juan each got to keep a whole half of the pie, instead of a third. And there were other acquaintances and relationships which benefited them more, like Migs. The kid, they learned, could be counted on to sell, on average, an ounce every day. And even more helpful, instead of having to answer knocks at the door or late-night phone calls to Eddie’s mom’s house for the powder they sold, Migs took care of all that. so, they brought him into their circle. He made them money. And he made it all easier.
Little Scarface, or Ana as Juan called her, was making a name for herself around town. Stories were told about how she’d accepted a pistol from Pete Lujan-Jaramillo—the aged ex-convict everyone called Juju—down in Talpa one afternoon. To see if it worked and to make sure they weren’t getting fooled, she’d asked him for a bullet, which he loaded into the gun for her. Then, Ana fired it at his feet, for laughs. The story grew and changed. Others were invented. And after that, rather than a story, there was the horribly disfigured face of the red-haired, Anglo bum everyone called O’Reilly.
The 20-something year old vagrant had come to Juan on several occasions—for he knew Juan was kinder than Ana—begging for a bag which he promised to pay back later that week. And Ana, having heard of it from Juan, took it personally, on her cousin’s behalf. So, when she and Juan and Migs found him walking down Upper Ranchitos Road—the adolescent trio had been riding around laughing and pointing at the other kids their age dressed up and walking to school in their uniforms—they stalked him slowly in the vehicle.
For a hundred yards or more, they watched him limping in his grimy clothes and filthy matted hair. The sole of one shoe flapped as he stepped like a mouth and Juan pointed to it, laughing,
“Look, Ana. It looks like a mouth, huh?”
By that time, they’d pulled alongside him and Juan talked to him calmly, saying,
“Looks like your shoe has a mouth. Is it hungry or what?” and as O’Reilly recognized them, he jumped over a barbed wire fence and fell down in the mud.
Juan shouted out, jokingly,
“Hey buddy. You gotta feed that thing, a la verga!”
They chased him into the cow field. He was struck with fear in the middle of a small plantation of apple trees and knelt as if in prayer. And the three of them—Ana, Juan and their compadre, Migs—were standing around the groveling and filthy lifeform.
On the ground all around them, thousands of small mushy apples had fallen from the branches overhead. They lay there. The fruit smelled sweet and putrid. It had all turned brown, all deflated into what looked like tumorous growths with weeping lesions in the grass. Flies were everywhere. The day was mostly still and cool, but the trees were barely moving. A yellow leaf floated downwards through the air.
Through the little grove of trees, Ana could see where an old well stood on an ancient foundation or floor made of cobblestone. It was as if they’d been transported back in time. Everything present in that scene—except the rubber soles of their shoes and the zippers on their jackets and synthetic fabrics of their modern clothes—could have existed just like that, just like it was that day in the 1700s.
But it wasn’t the 1700s, and O’Reilly owed Ana’s cousin money and had offended his honor. So, she began to curse at him and spat in his face. She couldn’t remember grabbing it from the car, but in her hand was a tire iron. And she hefted it a time or two.
Something familiar rose in her—the feeling of rage she’d felt that night with Lucy—and Ana let it take over. She swung the tire iron at the O’Reilly’s face. There was the crack of teeth and a wet sound. He put his arm up. She hit him, again. A flap of skin hung from his brow showing the slimy fat beneath.
The man howled and begged for her to stop. And she demanded that Juan and Eddie,
“Grab his arms! Hold his legs. Get him!”
So, they did. And Ana shook with adrenaline and bit her lip. She drove the metal into O’Reilly’s face again and again and again. He escaped and squirmed. He cried and clawed at the ground. The boys grabbed him.
And now, dark runs of blood covered his face. There was dirt caked in it. The man shrieked like a woman. Ana swung again. something in the man’s face snapped. And she swung again and again and once more, after that.
When the boys let go of his arms, the limp and bloodied body lay in the leaves there, silent and still. Ana stood over him. She spoke, loudly and in an artificially deep voice,
“That’s what you get, O’Reilly. If you want more, you can get it, now. Come see us, anytime. We take cash.”
Now, the beaten man peaked up at her form the ground with one eye—eerily white and clean in contrast to the black blood and dirt and leaves covering his entire face. As Ana saw it, she stomped on his head. She bit her lip. She stomped on him again. She stomped until her heel was slipping in the blood running from his head. Now, the boys pulled her off of him. They carried her to the car.
For a while they sat there on the side of the road, squatting in the grass. Ana’s mouth was open. She was heaving from exertion. Her hands and legs were trembling. And the boys stared at her quietly for some moments, not sure what to say or do, when she smiled and laughed and threw her head back and laughed harder.
On the drive home, Ana goaded Juan about it all. Migs was asking questions. But Juan didn’t speak. He was shocked to see what he had seen that morning and stared at his cousin from the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t sure who Ana was, anymore.
And it is in this way that the legend of our beloved Ana—Taos’s Little Scarface—began to be told and grow into what it eventually became.
submitted by ASavageLost to opiateswriters [link] [comments]
2021.09.20 07:51 AdderageRedditor What are your opinions on this saber?
|submitted by AdderageRedditor to lightsabers [link] [comments]|
2021.09.20 07:51 ViperSquadron What was the most realistic dream you’ve ever had?
2021.09.20 07:51 Optimal-Shelter-3827 man and radiant
|submitted by Optimal-Shelter-3827 to YouTube_Videos_ [link] [comments]|
2021.09.20 07:51 NocturnalPiss How do monsters never discover the villages?
It's not like the villages are hidden like the castle in Hogwarts, they're just ordinary buildings and structures full of people on regular old land right? What's stopping the monsters from invading these places? Is it just in game plot armor or is there some specific reason?
submitted by NocturnalPiss to MonsterHunter [link] [comments]
2021.09.20 07:51 AutoModerator It's really the only sensible thing to do. If it's done properly, therapeutically, there's no danger involved.
2021.09.20 07:51 NinPien Why can't my mom be happy for me?
When I was 11 years old I loved One Direction and my mom supported me for it. Because she liked most of their songs too.
Now I'm 18 and I Iike BTS. I don't really listen to One Direction anymore, but I don't regret anything about that time. Now back to BTS. Sometimes it seems as if she hates them.
She already rolls her eyes and sighs when I barely mention them. Or whines how she wants a child that listens to guns and roses while showing me a pic of a small child at their concert with their parents.
Most of it is just really annoying but it's stupid how I constantly have to defend my actions. Because she can't be happy for me if she doesn't like the thing that makes me happy.
The first time I heard one of their songs was in 2018 and I showed it to her then too. She made fun of me for liking it and I didn't listen to BTS again until april this year. I also ordered their album a few days ago and I already know what she's going to say.
"That's a waste of your money! How do you know if your going to like it in a few years time." Even though it's my own money that I've worked for and saved up.
I already talked to her about it when she started to mock me for liking BTS, but she just tells me I'm being a dramatic teenager and doesn't take it seriously at all. I don't want her to like BTS, I just want her to be happy for me that I like BTS.
submitted by NinPien to questions [link] [comments]
2021.09.20 07:51 Qubro „Öffentlich-rechtlicher Rundfunk muss sich von Linksextremisten distanzieren“