#Hogs and Pigs Report
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Market Prices are Still Higher, But How long?
Market Prices are Still Higher, But How long?
Market Prices are still higher, but for how long? Commodity markets are rarely dull and sometimes are outright wild. One-quarter of the way into 2022, and we’ve seen a lot of upward pressure in several commodities. The curious question is how long is this going to last given multiple outside factors that could bring the higher push to a halt.
Mike Zuzolo is the founder and president of Global…
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#black rhinos#commodities#Commodity Markets#corn market#crude oil#Demand#diesel fuel#E15#energy#Exports#heating oil#hedges#High Path Avian Influenza#Hogs and Pigs Report#Market Prices#markets#NATO#planting delays#prices#Russia#soybeans#summer#Supply#Trade#Ukraine#USDA#vegetable oil
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#23 with male reader and soap. After a mission m!reader helps him clean himself in the shower maybe because soap got injured on the field or just really sore. And he washes off the blood/dust/dirt and helps dry him off and it turns into something kinda fluffy. I just wanna play with this man's stupid mohawk so bad.
Honestly me too, I just see that strip of hair and get the urge to tug on it, completely forgetting the man's fictional 😅 Ended up writing washing his hair and showering together because hyperfixation lol Play the game HERE.
Prompt: Washing their hair
CW: NSFW but no sex, non sexual nudity, M reader, showering together, hair washing, just fluffy fluffy fluff.
As much as you care about Soap, you've got to admit he's a bit of a dumbass, a reckless dumbass to boot. You tell him to be careful and what does he do? End up falling out of a second story window and rolling down a good 60 feet down a muddy hill while chasing after a target. You hear him swear the entire way down from where you're tucked away safely behind the sight of your sniper rifle.
By the time you get back to base Johnny feels as miserable as he looks, covered in so much mud you can't see his skin and his entire back wreathed in dull throbbing pain, not to mention the numerous cuts and scraps. And that's on top of Price chewing him out about safety and Ghost and Gaz teasing him the entire flight back to base.
"Not a word lad," He growls, giving you the stink eye. "Price already yapped me ear off." Soap turns to his heel in an attempt to head to the communal showers, biting his lip to stop himself from swearing out god, king, and country when his muscles scream at him.
"Wasn't going to." You stop him, one firm hand tugging on his bulletproof vest so you don't jostle him too much, though even that has drops of mud splashing on your clothes. "Come on, you can shower in my room."
He looks at you skeptically, but it doesn't take much to sway his mind when you offer him simple comforts; privacy, warm hands to wash away the days pains, a warmer body to remind him he's alive. He follows you without a word, neither one of you caring about the mud you track— tomorrow's problems.
"Foooock." The groan comes deep from his bones, perfectly encapsulating all he feels as you methodically unclip his gear, taking the world's weight off his shoulders and dropping it haphazardly on the bathroom's tiled floor. "Feel like a fockin' hog," He frowns.
"Look like you rolled in a pig sty." You helpfully supplement, receiving a few words in Gaelic which you don't even attempt to understand, though the humor in his tone is crystal clear even when you take hold of the bottom of his shirt; the mud and grime had gone through every layer of clothing, leaving not a single inch of skin clean.
He attempts to raise his arms to help you, only to suddenly yell out a "Oh ye fockin' cunt!" when pain flares from his shoulder down the entire length of his spine. You swear you hear his spine crack at least a dozen times by the time you pull his shirt off his mud wet skin.
"You sound like an old geezer." You chuckle to lighten the mood, dropping to your knees to untie his shoelaces and take off his boots, then the rest of his clothes.
"Says the bloke who's left knee tells the weather." He bites back, a bit of teeth on display as he grimaces, another few curses leaving his lips when he has to lower his arm. "Or tries to, yer got as much accuracy as the bloody reporters on the telly."
"Starting to complain like one too," You add, not at all surprised when Soap proceeds to brush his muddy hand across your face. "Of you fucker," Your words gain a childish little giggle from him, and he lets you guide him into the shower.
Your bathroom's one of the few that has a tub in it —a relic of past tenants before the army remodeled the base into an actual military installation— you had to bribe Price with a lot of high quality cigars to get it, but every penny was worth it. There's a tap as well as a detachable showerhead up top that Johnny eagerly uses, turning the water hot and just standing under the stream while you disrobe.
The clean water turns muddy the second it hits his skin, brown muck swirling around your feet as you step into the tub behind him. "How's that sweetheart?" You ask, taking the soap bottle and squirting a heavy amount onto your hands, not bothering with a sponge and instead using your fingers to wash away the dirt on his skin.
"Heaven." Johnny sighs, his muscles fluttering beneath your hands, mud and blood washing away to reveal deep blooming bruises across his back. "Shite, that hits the spot." He leans against you, the slow but firm pressure of your fingers massaging the sore muscles around the blotchy bruises making him groan. You lean in to place gentle kisses on the darkest bruises, "So good fer me bonnie," he hums, using his arms the best he can to at least wash the mud off his face.
You two float in a sort of mindless space where nothing outside the shower matters, the sound of water running and Soap's occasional groan filling your ears, all your focus on the way your hands rub him down; from shoulders to his back, down to his feet and then back up to his face when he turns around.
Once the water runs clear again you turn off the shower and start the tap so the tub fills with enough water to keep him warm, maneuvering him to sit in the tub while you step out to dry yourself off and put on boxers.
"Don't need ta be pampered like a show mutt," He grumbles, the hot water easing the soreness in his frame and making his exhaustion prominent, Johnny's eyelids starting to droop despite his best efforts to stay awake.
"I know, but you hair's a damn crow's nest." You snort, running your fingers through the mess on his head and showing the gunk stuck on your fingers, hell, you even pull a damn twig out.
His eyes widen, "Well fock me," Soap grimaces, gives a bone deep sigh as you settle behind him, sitting partially on the tub. Cupping water in your palms you rub your fingers down the length of his mohawk, loosening the dirt sticking to the strands until rivulets of watery mud run down his neck.
"Maybe later." You both chuckle, squirting the shampoo Soap always loves to smell on you in your hand and lathering your palms up before bringing them back to his hair. Soap mumbles something, leaning his head into your hands whenever you scratch a particularly itchy spot on his scalp.
His head tips back as much as his aching shoulders let him, his eyes settling on your face. I got it made, he thinks to himself, desperately trying to keep his eyelids open so he can see how you focus on even a simple task like washing his hair. Every brush of your fingers across his dirty strands fills his chest with lingering warmth, every scratch of your nails across his scalp making his eyes droop just a bit more.
Johnny doesn't even notice the slight sting when you occasionally tug on a knot, your touch making his mind buzz pleasantly like the low background static of a TV on late nights, and Soap doesn't realize he's dosing off.
You notice how he leans against your leg, leaning over to see his eyes closed and chest steadily rising and falling. You let him sleep for a bit while you finish up cleaning his hair and then use the detachable shower head to wash the bubbly shampoo off.
"What is'it?" He mumbles when you gently shake him awake, eyelids fluttering open and shut.
"Need you to get up Johnny." You hum and it's laughable how easily he follows your instructions, needing a bit of help to stand up when his back still aches like hell, a shiver racing down his spine as the cold air of your bathroom nips at his skin. "Fock, do'ah look like a snowman?" He grumbles at the cold.
You chuckle instead of saying anything, silencing any other complaints with sweet kisses on his lips as you towel him dry.
Soon after you two are huddled under the covers, his body draped over yours and using your chest as a pillow. Your fingers card through his slightly damp hair, the soft brown strands like feathers against your skin and your touch making him sigh and melt against you.
"Hey lad?" He suddenly says, voice a gentle whisper; like he's about to reveal a secret kept from the world — something only meant for you.
"Yeah Johnny?" You ask, a few stars reflecting in his blue eyes from your window.
Your heart melts at the soft and goody smile he gives you, "Love you." he says, leaning his head into your hand that's in his hair.
You smile and lean your head to kiss him, "Love you too," You mutter against his lips, and when you pull away he's already drifted off to sleep like a babe, soft breath tickling your skin and arms possessively wrapped around your waist like you'll disappear.
But you catch the way he smiles in his sleep.
#Gnome's prompt game#gnome correspondence#cod mw2#x reader#trinkets from the hoard#top male reader#male reader#john soap mactavish#john soap mactavish x male reader#john soap mactavish x reader#sub character#sub john soap mactavish#fluff#so much fluff
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The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
Song by Gil Scott-Heron
You will not be able to stay home, brother
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and
Skip out for beer during commercials
Because the revolution will not be televised
The revolution will not be televised
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In four parts without commercial interruptions
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
Blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John Mitchell
General Abrams and Spiro Agnew
To eat hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary
The revolution will not be televised
The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star
Natalie Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs
The revolution will not make you look five pounds thinner
Because the revolution will not be televised, brother
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
Pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run
Or trying to slide that color TV into a stolen ambulance
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
Or report from 29 districts
The revolution will not be televised
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
Brothers on the instant replay
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
Brothers on the instant replay
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young
Being run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process
There will be no slow motion or still lifes of Roy Wilkens
Strolling through Watts in a red, black and green
Liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion
Green Acres, Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville Junction
Will no longer be so damned relevant
And women will not care if Dick finally got down with Jane
On "Search for Tomorrow" because black people
Will be in the street looking for a brighter day
The revolution will not be televised
There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock news
And no pictures of hairy armed women liberationists
And Jackie Onassis blowing her nose
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb
Or Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell
Tom Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink or the Rare Earth
The revolution will not be televised
The revolution will not be right back
After a message about a white tornado, white lightning or white people
You will not have to worry about a dove in your bedroom
The tiger in your tank or the giant in your toilet bowl
The revolution will not go better with Coke
The revolution will not fight germs that may cause bad breath
The revolution will put you in the driver's seat
The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised
Will not be televised, will not be televised
The revolution will be no re-run, brothers
The revolution will be live
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Midnight Pals: Grosser than Gross
Eric Raglin: report to the goop troop
Shelley Lavigne: and we always stick together
Raglin: yeah we're the goop troop
Lavigne: best of friends forever
Raglin: bop-a-loo bop boppa loo wop
Lor Gislason: YEAH
Lor Gislason: bloop bloop time for goop
King: excuse me lor you're actually supposed to say "submitted for the approval of the midnight society"
Barker: no hang on
Barker: this has a nice ring to it
Poe: oh clive you can't be serious
David Cronenberg: i'm going to start saying that too
Poe: you guys
Poe: you can't just change the intro!
Poe: we all agreed!
Barker: not to mention they have that great song
Poe: that was just the goof troop theme song
Poe: with the word "goof" replaced with "goop"
Barker: was it?
Poe: yes we
Poe: we did the exact same joke the last time lor was here
Barker: it's a catchy song
King: we should get a theme song!
Poe: no we shouldn't
King: i bet the rock bottom remainders could whip up a good-
Poe: NO we shouldn't
Eric Raglin: better watch out, these stories are pretty gross
King: what's gross?
Raglin: grosser than gross
King: what's grosser than gross?
Raglin: Biting into an apple and finding a half a worm
King:
King: ew
Raglin: oink oink piggies here's some stories straight from the pig pen of depravity
Raglin: the swine waller of decadence
Raglin: the hog lagoon of disgustingness
Raglin: like the 1980s Mad Scientist monster lab kit new from Mattel, these stories have been declared "too gross"
Raglin: you ever think about what would happen if you had really bad acne
Raglin: like REALLY bad pus
Shelley Lavigne: i have also been thinking about pus by coincidence
Lor Gislason: bloop bloop me too
King: boy you guys really love pus
Shelley Lavigne: what if there was a party in the heart of a deadly epidemic
Poe: wait this is interesting
Lavigne: a pox party
Poe: sure go on
Lavigne: and it was really horny
Poe: uh Barker: yes go on
Lor Gislason: bloop bloop what if you made clothes out of baby skin?
Gislason: like on an industrial scale?
Gislason: bet they'd find some real weasel words to hide that reality
King: you really think people would do all that?
Agustina Bazterrica: no let him cook
Bazterrica: what if there was a world with cannibalism on an industrial scale
CB Blanchard: people are always talking about the bad things about cannibalism
Blanchard: capitalism
Blanchard: and never about the good things about cannibalism
Blanchard: that it's hot
#midnight pals#the midnight society#midnight society#stephen king#clive barker#edgar allan poe#david cronenberg#eric raglin#lor gislason#cb blanchard#agustina bazterrica#shelley lavigne
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Paleontology is cool and all, but did you know that
War pigs are pigs reported to have been used in ancient warfare as military animals, mostly as a countermeasure against war elephants.
In the 1st century BCE, the Roman author Lucretius noted that humans may have attempted to launch wild beasts, such as lions or "savage boars", against the enemy, but with catastrophic results. In 272 BCE, it was recorded that the Romans used wild boars in their fight against the war elephants of the Tarantines. According to a legend recounted in the "Alexander Romance" by Pseudo-Callisthenes, the Macedonian Emperor Alexander the Great learned about this "secret weapon" against war elephants from King Porus in India.
The Roman naval and army commander Pliny the Elder reported that "elephants are scared by the smallest squeal of the hog". Roman author and teacher Aelian confirmed that elephants were frightened by squealing pigs and rams with horns, and reported that the Romans exploited both squealing pigs and horned rams to repel the war elephants of Pyrrhus in 275 BCE. Byzantine Greek scholar Procopius, in History of the Wars, recorded that the defenders of Edessa suspended a squealing pig from the walls to frighten away Khosrau's single siege elephant in the 6th century CE.
Historical accounts of incendiary pigs or flaming pigs were recorded by the Greek military writer Polyaenus and by Aelian. Both writers reported that Antigonus II Gonatas' siege of Megara in 266 BCE was broken when the Megarians doused some pigs with combustible pitch, crude oil or resin, set them alight, and drove them towards the enemy's massed war elephants. The elephants bolted in terror from the flaming, squealing pigs, often killing great numbers of their own soldiers by trampling them to death. According to an account, Gonatas later made his mahouts keep a swine among elephants to accustom the animals to pigs and this practice was immortalized by a Roman bronze coin dating back to his time, which showed an elephant on one side and a pig on the other.
As late as the 16th century, the supposed terror of the elephant for the squealing pig was reported by the English politician
Reginald Scot.
#war pigs#long post#paleontology#ancient rome#rome#classics#latin memes#latin language#roman history#thank god for Wikipedia
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reporting people to the cops over art makes you a fascist bootlicker. eat shit piglover
Buddy I would also report someone to the pigs if I saw them kick a kid for fun. I do not care if hogs come and get someone who’s sexualizing or otherwise harming children. I do not care if indulgent pedophiles get gored I really don’t. They either get mental help or they go contact and at that point I have no sympathy left.
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Plump lips pressed in a thin line, coal black eyelashes hiding the pine-green color when the eyes narrowed. Usual stone cold surface always gave at least a small crack, solid proof of a shaken composure, something only he could accomplish. Something she despised. . . and in the same time adored. Dollface -- one word, and the great wall of indifference became a pathetic castle of sand.
A small bandage to her pride knowing such small things affect him as using the gifted blade, but no matter how furious the scarlet haired woman was, handsome face she loved clearly ravaged by lack of rest and inner demons, showing themselves in the redness of his eyes poked at her like hot poker. Yet, the ego, the pride, the disgusting need to be on top of an argument, which in her eyes was big as an elephant, no matter that in reality it was smaller than a mouse, made the tongue to dance with another vexing answer.
" I don't see why it's irking you, Danny, the last time I checked, we were both single birds, no need for jealousy. "
How ironic, how hilarious the statemant was, when they always were, and always will be, fueled by jealousy to the point where the reason for it will bleed, suffer and finally be buried nameless, all because one of them felt the need to protect what was theirs, and only theirs. " Speaking off. . . saw the papers. A pig? Really? I know you had fetishes but fucking a hog is digusting even for you. Was the swine's head on her head supposed to be scary? Maybe if she took the mask off, she would accomplish the desired look much more easily. " Only one article from some moronic reporter that combined Amanda's and Danny's attack was enough for Clare to lose her entire cool. Redhead though she knew the feeling of hatred well, but learning about the pig headed bitch made her discover a whole knew level of loathing.
" Even a blind, drunk, mentally challenged idiot would find you considering your sloppy work. " she bit back with the venom still pumping through her because of remembering the ' pig (potential) problem. Pushing the tempting hourglass shape off the wall, Clare fearlessly devoured the distance between them, stepping maybe a few feet away. A snort, then a mocking chuckle. " Egoistical, sure, but I don't recall giving you compliments. Last time I checked, monster was one of my favorite pet names. And as I said, it is hard not to see you when your blood trails could even be found by boy scouts. "
Keeping the intense stare, she mindlessly crushed the rest of the candy in her hand from the hard grip she had on them. " The bitch is striking too close to my lab. So I suggest you do something about it before I have her bacon cut into tiny little pieces, melt it in acid and slip the rest in your breakfast. "
No matter the anger gnawing at her, the consuming fury and jealousy, the heart screamed with yearning at his presence, and she knew why -- no matter how far, no matter how long, they were always destined to end back next to each other.
@feral-fuqboi-danny
( HAHAHAH NO SHIT, BUT IT’S SO DELICIOUS)
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Previously in the Night Land bestiary: Night Hounds, Giants, Silent Ones, 14-Legged Beast, Doorways in the Night, Slug.
Brute-men are one of the many abhuman variants, predictably combining human and [rand_animal] features into a grotesque appearance, and I'm really only separating them until I inevitably run out of things to say about them. The brute-men stand out, however, because the Night Land is not their only appearance in William Hope Hodgson's bibliography. (I know I've made several jokes at the expense of The Night Land's writing style, but the rest of his work is much more readable.)
First, there's Carnacki the Ghost-Finder, Hodgson's occult detective series and an early prototype of the subgenre that includes everything from Twin Peaks to Scooby-Doo. While J. S. Le Fanu's Dr. Martin Hesselius came first (by several decades), Thomas Carnacki is notable for the fact that he doesn't know whether a case is preternatural or mundane until he puzzles it out along with the reader. One of Carnacki's later adventures begins with a client reporting nightmares of squealing pigs, whom Carnacki is concerned to find is acting increasingly porcine himself. Carnacki's sleep experiments turn unexpectedly perilous when they reveal his client's dreams are being pushed ajar by the Hog, a primordial Outer Monstrosity using them to crawl its way back into the world.
Closer to The Night Land is The House on the Borderland, another novel framed as a found document. The narrator is an aged recluse, who lives with his sister in an old haunted house on a cliff, which begins giving him visions... transported across unfathomable depths of space, he finds his house again, jade-green and colossal in a dim red landscape but otherwise identical. Surrounding it is an arena or crater surrounded by a circle of mountains. Among these mountains are the ancient shapes of human and alien gods, immobile and immortal. Beyond the mountains is an endless plain of silence. In the sky above is a sun as black as the night sky, illuminating this place with a corona of dim red flames. And outside the house are pig-faced beast-men, peering inside and probing the locks and hunting him when they become aware of his presence. They are still outside his house when his vision ends.
Remembering that the Night Land is also a vast dark landscape, where the Last Redoubt is surrounded by mountains and the titanic Watchers which creep glacially towards it... among its other features is a place called the House of Silence, an ornate mansion that glows from within. (Its doors are unlocked, and its windows open, and no movement is ever seen inside. No one has ever emerged.) Although the Borderland is at the end of space and the Night Land at the end of time, their parallels are obvious, but their significance uncertain. And the swine-things haunt them both.
#artists on tumblr#my art#pencil drawing#fantasy art#fanart#concept art#horror art#the night land#the house on the borderland#gothic horror#cosmic horror#monster design#gaslamp fantasy#thinking out loud
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Ok but now I can't stop thinking about this
I need this story, it has so much bloody action rom-com Au potential
I physically can't stop thinking about how it would go down...
Say the Mizumono break up was real?
& Hannibal didn't follow the plan. He ran w/ Frederick instead just to be spiteful. Leaving a an easily FBI trackable trail specifically for Will to follow once he wakes up.
Alana didn't get pushed out a window because Hannigram were to busy breaking up for real to do all their carefully planned torture, so she's the one telling Will that Hannibal had been having an affair w/Chilton behind her(their) back once he does wake up.
Will dragging himself out of the hospital the second he's able to at all, still kinda weak, unmasked, no person suit, no sad wet cat, just furious & deadly, carrying a gun and his favorite hunting knife.
During the chase across Europe Hannibal is pretending to woo Frederick, wining and dining him, being seen with him very publically everywhere, taking him through all his past haunts. Frederick doesn't know the significance of the places they're going but Will does. Will is very much for real hunting them through the tour of Hannibal's past.
Frederick starts getting increasingly anxious about the bloody swath Will is cutting behind them... but doesn't want to believe Hannibal doesn't really love him. His ego can't take the strain. Hannibal giggling & kicking his feet at all the murder drama bc it means Will still cares enough to be jealous.
Maybe Will would snatch Bedelia too, thinking he could make Hannibal jealous right back. Bedelia and Will just mean girl snarking at each other all through Europe.
The Verger grab still happens more or less as originally planned.
Frederick & Bedelia end up sitting in an Italian hotel after the grab. He's trying to make polite conversation, pretending he's not relieved, while she's getting blisteringly high.
He says fuck it and joins her in tossing whiskey back like his life depends on it. Maybe it does anyway
Margot still lets Hannibal out of his restraints, he still saves Will. But Will isn't plausible deniability unconscious. They fight it out & make up(make out) while massacring everyone there together.
It was really just a misunderstanding after all.
The FBI gets an anonymous tip 5 days later about Muskrat farms. It was a blood bath, the pigs got out, they ate everything, including the two men hog tied in the barn. there was so much blood...
Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter were officially reported dead a month later after an extensive investigation.
Bedelia goes back to self medicating away her issues in seclusion, Frederick retires to write a book about the whole thing.
Because of her seclusion and acidic demeanor, no one really notices Bedelia's gone missing. Frederick leaves a note about writing a sequel to his best selling book, "Like Blood & Chocolate, One Year In Hannibal the Cannibal's Heart", at a private writing retreat. No one noticed he was actually missing for months.
When Alana went missing, people, the relevant people, understood what was going on. But it was much to late by then.
Vengeance would be had
Divine Retribution on the tip of their sacred tongues
The few people left who thought Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham might have a bone to pick with them scattered like rats abandoning a sinking ship.
That was their Design
If you were wise, you would run too.
Even though it's much to late
#hannibal au#fanfic#hannigram fanfiction#hannibal#hannigram#will graham#hannibal lecter#hannibal x will#blood#canon dark will#dark will graham#canon compliant murder husband will graham#murder husbands#hannibal fandom
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Greetings, foolish denizens of Tumblr! I, DANKY KONG, Licensed Hog-Stealer and Level-E, Jokelore professor at the Darwin Institute of Hy-Yi-Yi, have migrated from the fowlest depths of Discord and Reddit to bring you a fascinating and seasonally appropriate file from the vagaries of the Darwin Institute. I bid all of you heathens a glorious Australia Day void of bushfires, feral rabbits, and political tension.
Creature Files: Bunyip
Place of Origin: Southern Australia
Habitat: Swamps, lakes, waterholes, or any landlocked water-body
Class: ???
Threat Level: XXXX (High)
The Australian bush is home to many strange and fearsome creatures, many of which are found nowhere else on the planet. From the dreaded Emu, a birdlike monster responsible for one of the bloodiest wars in human history, to the repulsive, frankensteinian Platypus, to the vast array of venomous snakes and spiders that lurk within the aussie underbrush. Among these terrifying creatures that call the dreaded under-down their home, lurks the enigmatic and elusive Bunyip, a beast so terrifying it could make the mighty Old Nick wet his trousers prematurely.
Unlike many creatures we list here, who can be at least partially classified into some kind of classification system, be it taxonomical or otherwise, some beings simply defy all logic. The Bunyip appears to be one such creature, as its anatomy and physical description is fickle to say the least. Some say the bunyip resembles some kind of pinniped with flippers, whiskers, and a flat face comparable to a bulldog, pug, or owl. Others however, are adamant it's a long-necked creature with wrinkly skin, a horelike-mane, and an equine or avian head. Other accounts describe it as being a giant starfish, a nessie clone, a shaggy, carnivorous cow, a clinically depressed, napsack-toting chimera, a snake-tongued, pig-nosed, big-eyed ogre thing, a beaked crocodile, or literally any description you can think of. The one feature that is consistent with bunyip reports (give or take) would be its behavior. The Bunyip lives in landlocked bodies of water. Bunyips are ravenous predators, mostly foraging for crayfish, as well as human women and children (though some sources say it was an herbivore). Bunyips tended to create underwater or riverside dens called Gunyah by aboriginal peoples. The Bunyip is mostly heard rather than seen, as it marks its vast territory by emitting deep, loud, bellows. Anyone foolhardy enough to ignore the bunyips warnings are quickly devoured or drowned in floods the bunyip conjures up. If one is to encounter a wild Bunyip (which you should in no way be in the position to do so), it is advised to curl on the ground in a fetal position and hope for the inevitable, for escape or defense from the bunyip is entirely futile. It is also strongly disadvised that one steals a bunyips calf, as this may result from the erasing of you and your community off the face of the earth.
As with most cryptids, much of the blinkered scientific board and general public do not believe the bunyip to exist, chalking it up to being nothing more than a misidentified mundane animal or purley mythical being. Personally I find this explanation to be absolute bullshit and is merely a cop out as to fit in to their conservative worldview. After five whole minutes of rigorous research, I have concluded that the bunyip may be of the esoteric, lovecraftian persuasion. Its physical form is so inconceivable to the euclidean human mind, that it simply fills in the blanks with whatever bits and pieces it can conjure. But of course, until the racist old bastard himself rises from the dead to confirm my suspicions, there can be no way to truly validate this.
This year, during your Australia day sacrifice to Old Nick and his malignant colonialist forces, remember to raise a bottle to the Bunyip, a metaphysical reminder of why we should spend time with those we love instead of screwing around in billabongs aimlessly.
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Two of them are coming to meet me soon.
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Apfelessig rewatches Turn
S01E06: Mr. Culpeper
0:00 Blogging this one for the sole reason that I finally, finally found a copy on DVD at the library and can now finally watch on my own time, with no internet connection or ads, an episode of a show in one long uninterrupted stream with no buffering.
0:08 Could it be?? My beloved??
2:44 What about a fic entirely from Sackett's POV
3:58 "It confirms Captain Gamble's account." Oh? Surely not *the* Gamble? There must have been a captain with that name on the Continental side.
Okay, I've got a Captain Robert Gamble from the 8th Virginia Regiment and later, in 1779, the 2nd Virginia Regiment. I've also got a Journal from the Continental Congress noting the resolved motion "that the Board of War be directed to inquire into the conduct of Captain Gamble, since he was made prisoner of war, and report to Congress." I guess he reported on the prisoner treatment conditions for POWs?
5:36 Seems harsh for some spoons and apparel. I feel like this thing was frequent in Sgt. Martin's accounts.
6:13 Ben. You getting promoted?
7:45 Sackett's much more tight with Washington than I remember.
8:24 ... ... I think that species of pig is even period accurate. ...Is a hog different from a pig.
9:43 Sackett KING XD did you just interrupt a general
11:26 ...Suppose you could have left Abe there. Something about this guy, I don't remember what he was up to.
13:37 "I want you to feel safe here and perhaps find reason to smile." I think. Like. Even then, this was a smarmy line from Andre. Like, I don't know if we're supposed to be going "oh, he's so generous to Abigail" because certainly I'm thinking "she's not gonna feel safe you twat"
16:12 Love love love love this conversation between Rogers and Akinbode.
17:19 "Failure! Death!" Love you, Sackett
18:20 "Please tell me you're using encryption. My God. They told me you were a graduate of Yale."
19:26 Okay, good point, Scott.
21:00 What was this guy's plan? Ohhhh right this whole mess, oh oh oh. Oh oh, no, Abe, shut up shut up
23:55 "Yes, exactly why [Abe, my friend] trusts me to protect him." Ben, tell me, when did you plan to start doing that exactly
23:57 "Only that which is concealed is protected." <3
24:55 Iconic meeting between Andre and Simcoe.
26:26 I suppose this whole Abe-and-the-rogue-soldier bit is interesting in that--well, it's not on the frontier, it's the road into New York so...still on Long Island. But there's enough empty stretch for someone to be hiding for six months, passing themselves off as whoever they need to, yet unable to cross a checkpoint.
30:46 I'm supposed to feel sorry for him because he, like, represents the Continental Army, but ... meh. I...might have shaped that differently.
32:35 "This man's a liar." Oh, Simcoe. XD "You pale fool."
35:08 Hmm... There's a fic here, between Ben and Sackett and Washington.
36:10 Come on, Aldis, whup his ass!
36:44 Is he using a bit of capoeira, there? Sure looks like it. Totally appropriate, no? It was a martial art developed and disguised as a dance so the enslaved persons could practice it secretly.
38:04 Rogers speaks Abenaki BUT STILL WON'T TELL ME WHO THAT MAN IS.
39:18 Washington, probably: Sackett, give me that hard-boiled egg, I need it for a dramatic moment with Ben.
41:31 Eyyyyy congrats Ben. Now the hard work starts.
42:28 AWASOS. AWASOS. HIS NAME IS AWASOS. I had to get that from the CREDITS.
Can't find any historical basis for him specifically though it looks like Rogers tangled with the Abenaki a bunch in the French and Indian War. (By 'tangled a bunch' I mean 'massacred an entire Abenaki village' by command of the British.) Why and how Awasos became his second-in-command in the show, I honestly don't remember. I hope they explain it!
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Chinese authorities on Friday stepped up efforts to stabilize pork prices with the release of 20,000 tons of pork from central reserves while reiterating their resolution to combat the fluctuation of pork prices.
A batch of 20,000 tons of pork from central reserves was released for bidding on Friday. It is the sixth batch of central reserves to be released by China in 2022. A total of 107,100 tons of pork have been released into the market in the past five rounds of issuance since September, Beijing News reported.
The issuance of the central pork reserve comes as China's National Development and Reform Commission (NDRC), the country's top economic planner, said that it would step up efforts to stabilize pig prices amid soaring pork prices.
The NDRC said that together with relevant departments, it will guide the reserve regulation and market supervision to increase the supply of hogs and pork in the market and effectively ensure stable prices.
love to increase the supply of hogs
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MTG is clearly DANGEROUS & DEEPLY DISTURBED.
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Facebook will not allow me to share because people on Facebook have reported this as abusive. Maybe you may share it and lets see what happens. What do you all think about it Twitter and Tumblr? Maybe its time for Facebook/META and Mark Zuckerberg to go away from our democracy permanently
Daily Devotionals for March 15, 2023
Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living
Devotional Scripture:
Proverbs 11:21-23(KJV):
21 Though hand joins in hand, the wicked shall not be unpunished: but the seed of the righteous shall be delivered.
22 As a jewel of gold in a swine's snout, so is a fair woman who is without discretion.
23 The desire of the righteous is only good: but the expectation of the wicked is wrath.
Thought for the Day
Verse 21 - The book of Proverbs is continually pointing out the contrast between good and evil. It points out how the results of each of these lives affect them personally and those around them. The first half of this verse tells us that even if two people are walking together and holding hands if one is evil and the other righteous, the wicked will not be spared judgment, just because they are close to a righteous person. In a marriage where one of the partners is a Christian while the other is not, this verse reminds us that the Lord will judge each one separately, on their own merits. Often, a wayward spouse or child will think that the prayers of their family members will be enough to prevent them from facing any judgment. While it is true that prayers said for the backsliders will certainly give them extra time to repent, each one who is wicked or unrepentant will have to face a day of reckoning.
Women or men who marry a mate who does not know the Lord are getting into a situation that they will regret, as the Scripture warns us not to become "unequally yoked." 2 Corinthians 6:14-16 says: "Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness? And what concord hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath he that believeth with an infidel? And what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people."
These scriptures apply to other relationships too, such as close friends, business partners, etc. We should pray diligently before entering into any kind of partnership, and heed the advice of not becoming unequally yoked if the other party does not know the Lord.
The last half of this verse is a beautiful promise for Christian parents for their children's welfare. If our seed (our children) stray from God's ways, we can pray. The prayers and confessions of parents can greatly affect their children's lives. We should always stand in faith for them and never speak evil of them, even if they fall into Satan's snares. The Lord will hear our prayers and deliver our children as this verse promises.
Verse 22 - Indiscretion is the lack of "taste, judgment, [or] reason." It results in failing to act and speak properly. Proverbs paint the humorous picture of a pig with a gold ring in its snout as the description of a lovely woman (a beautiful looking jewel); yet a pig (her behavior) is wearing it. Although a woman can be attractive, without the beauty of the inward life, she is like an unclean hog.
Verse 23 - The desire of the consistently righteous is only for good and brings good to them, but the evil expectations of the wicked bring them God's and man's wrath. The Lord promises that He will give those who follow Him the desire of their hearts. "Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the LORD; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass" (Psalm 37:4-5).
Prayer Devotional for the Day
Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for being so good to us. When I count my blessings, they are many! Lord, as I seek You daily, may I always be willing to change those things that are not pleasing to You. I know if I surrender them to You, you will empower me to overcome the things that are not like You. Help all of us who are called by Your name so that we might reflect Your love to a world that needs You so much. Thank You for Your strength to carry out Your will daily. I thank You that You promised never to leave me, nor forsake me. I am not alone. I love You. I ask these things in the name of Jesus. Amen.
Respectfully,
Steven P. Miller
Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups
Jacksonville, Florida USA,
Instagram: steven_parker_miller_1956,
Twitter: @GatekeeperWatchman1, @ParkermillerQ, https://twitter.com/StevenPMiller6
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#GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller,#Eldermiller1981
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As the pilgrims fly eastward Tripitaka’s guardian deities go to Guanyin to report on Tripitaka’s Journey to the West, and Guanyin notices a problem. They were supposed to go through 81 ordeals, and they’re short one. So the heavenly escort dumps them back on the ground so they can have one more hard time. This time it’s getting dumped in a river because they forgot to ask Buddha something on behalf of the turtle who ferried them across before. Which necessitated trying to dry out the scrolls without too much damage (though there is some). Followed by a bunch of awkward worship from villagers who they helped earlier (not going back to look it up, but I think it’s the place where Eight Rules had to impersonate a little girl). Everyone wants to treat them to a feast, but after dinning on divine food in Tathagata’s temple mortal food no longer appeals to them. Even Hog doesn’t really feel like pigging out. I mean, he still does, going through the motions of gluttony, but his heart just ain’t in it anymore.
Eventually they sneak out of the temple dedicated to them at night, and their escort comes to pick them back up now that the ordeal is over so they can resume their Journey to the West East.
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