#$17.95

[yesnancycraigposts]

[the-simple-creature]

Me at 11:00 PM for no reason in particular: Hm, I wonder how many followers I h-

*Horrendous choking sounds*

[oysterie]

I've been bitching abt Kroger not even paying me 15 and I just learned back in May they raised me to 15.25 my b

[try-set-me-on-fire]

The Parable of the Drunken Man

A short tale about Robert Nash and the devil himself, part of a longer tale that has not yet been written

The drunken man is already drunk when he stumbles up to the liquor store, which he probably should have figured out meant trouble, big trouble, should have been able to see the walls of the hole he’d dug for himself. But it's a sunny day — five o’clock nowhere, oh how deep, oh how deep — and he’s not thinking about much besides getting through the glass push door with the little jingle bell on the top. He makes it up all the steps and only stumbles once, bangs his hip on the railing fucking ow. He makes it through the door too, jingle jingle, hey, just like Christmas, that’s coming up, it’s getting cold. Ice box inside is cold, the big fridges are cold, he could grab some Fitgers like his daddy drank but they shuttered their doors in ‘72 and his dad was in the ground pretty soon after — the hole, the hole — and anyway what’s beer gonna do. The drunken man needs something from one of the shelves up behind the counter, warm in its bottle, strong as paint stripper. And the clerk knows him — can’t you hear the shovel — and he doesn’t even really have to ask, just points and the bottle comes to him, presto magic. And then the drunken man pats his pockets and there’s nothing in this one, nothing in that one, not in his coat, not in his jeans, empty empty empty.

“I’m good for it,” he says, “You know I am, come on.”

“Sorry, Bobby,” the clerk says, and to his credit his eyes are sad.

When the stranger says “I can cover for you,” only a step from his side the drunken man is surprised. He didn’t think anyone else was in the store. He didn’t hear the bell jingle jingle. And this guy, this stranger, he’s in a suit, a real nice suit, nothing like piss poor piss drunk pissed off clientele that usually graces these fluorescent lit halls. But the drunken man wants his drink so he shrugs.

“Sure. Mighty kind of you. I owe you one.”

The stranger has a smile that’s real wide. His teeth are all straight. “Do you now? And what might that be?”

The drunken man glances at the shelf behind the counter. “$17.95.”

That stranger makes a sound that must be a laugh because the drunken man doesn’t know what else it would be. “That’s not a very interesting deal, Bobby.”

If he stays out too long there’s people who’re gonna be mad at him, can’t he fucking wrap this up? The drunken man glances at the clerk. The bottle is there in his hand. “What do you have in mind?” He wonders for a moment what the stranger will ask, what he might be willing to give. He’s not that desperate. He has some Johnny Walker at home, he’s pretty sure. It’ll be harder to get to it around Marcy, but he could manage. If this is a sex thing, he can just say no.

The stranger shrugs. “What would you give for a drink, right now?”

The drunken man’s shoulders shiver a bit, he’s not sure why. It’s what he’d just been thinking, but, whatever, coincidence. “I- I don’t know.”

“Would you give up your apartment? Your whole floor?”

The drunken man laughs. “I don’t own my whole floor, man, I don’t even own my fucking apartment.” They’d owned the house but the medical bills had stacked up and up and up and the drunken man had dug down and down and down until the difference had been too great to ever balance out again.

All those teeth. “But would you give it? All the people in it? Trade them, right here and now?”

The drunken man is just kind of annoyed. This guy, this out of towner, fucking with him. “Sure. Yeah, and the whole rest of the building, too.”

“Now there’s a deal,” the stranger laughs again, slaps the drunken man hard enough on the back it hurts, it bruises, it’s yellow on his shoulder when he goes to work on Monday and no one even bats an eyelash that’s he’s fucked himself up in some new little way. He hands the clerk a handful of cash — more than $17.95 it seems to the drunken man’s eyes — and the clerk hands over the bottle with uneasy eye contact and then the drunken man leaves, goes home, swigs once twice in the parking lot before heading up to the roof and stashing the bottle and heading back downstairs and in to his wife and his daughter and his son, cheeks red from the cold and other things, and he wasn’t too late — too late, oh he’s too late — and they all eat dinner together.

Exactly one month later, the building goes up in flames. He’s drunk on the roof. He was high in an empty room, with a space heater plugged into the wall. The hole is deep and he doesn’t even have the grace to die at the bottom of it, next to the tiny bodies of his children, next to burnt living corpse of his wife. And now he’s sleeping in a motel his brother paid for but he’s not sleeping there, he’s trying to drink himself to death in the parking lot out back when he sees the stranger again, in the nice suit, still all his straight teeth showing.

“Was it you?” The drunken man hollers. “Was it you? Did you do this? Did you make this happen?” He’s throwing the bottle, he’s grabbing the front of that too nice suit and the guy is just smiling, just fucking grinning, big and pleased as a cat with all the cream.

“You were always gonna burn that building, Bobby,” he says, and his tone of voice, there’s something about it that’s true, there’s something about it that’s impossible not to believe. “That’s how that night was always going to go.”

“Then what- then why-”

“You just gave me permission to collect.” The drunken man hadn’t thought the stranger was taller than him, but he leers down at him now.

Like Bobby knows he was telling the truth, he knows he’s not talking about, whatever, an insurance payout. “What did I- what did I give you?”

“Souls, Bobby. You traded all their souls. And for such a grand prize.” And the stranger held up his hand, and in it was a bottle of Devil’s Springs, 151 proof.

The motel day shift front desk girl finds him there in the morning, half frozen, laying in a mess of broken glass.

[kittybroker]

What will I fetch for the boy?

Dazed kitty really not ready for international kitty day! Full of drowsy and fatigue, this kitty now selling for only $17.95!

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

I was formulating an essay-style response to that steaming pile of garbage in my head while I watched it but then I realized I'd rather enjoy my holiday and stop thinking about that bastard forever

If this is really his last word on the matter, we're probably never going to get the whole truth, but this whole debacle has confirmed just how miserable his fandom was for me - if not forced by outsiders to apologize for shit that does not matter and that you had no part in, then you're surrounded by people spreading some of the most vile victim-blaming rhetoric you've ever seen for a guy who does not and cannot care about them individually no matter how much he presents himself otherwise.

I won't forget seeing "she was 17.95 so it doesn't matter" from someone I thought was a friend. I won't forget the cutesy little nicknames you came up with to avoid the congitive stress of your precious guy being an accused groomer. I won't forget the harassment you little shits openly confessed to with no remorse. I won't forget how you laughed at victims for being emotional about a potential betrayal, or dictated what a real victim should look like. I won't forget and I'm certainly not ready to forgive. I'm not forgiving the people who mocked and belittled you for harmless fun once, either; they're as much responsible for the sour state of things as the man they hated before they were given a viable excuse. Whatever the reason, this place became a black hole and I don't want to even be close to it.

It's not worth it. I'm done. I'm not talking about that motherfucker ever again, and please, hold me to that this time.

[hazyaltcare]

Grunge fashion for an aquatic dragon with blacks, dark blues and dark grays.

Biker Jacket - $285.99 $199.99

Water Elemental Dragon Enamel Pin - $15+

Merfolk Ears - $38+ $28.20+

Crew Socks - $19.95 $17.95

Chainmail Necklace - $30

T-Shirt w/ Pocket - $24

Crocodile Print Jeans - $105 $50

Seashell Brooch - $15

Motorcycle Gloves - $54.16 $10.06

Assault Pack - $59.99

Biker Ankle Boots - $255 $89.99

Paracord Bracelet - $33.83

Mod Haze (🧨Tate)

[betterelliprints]

Haikyuu!! Items

$30.00

$20.44

$21.44

$18.99+

$68.50

$30.00+

$38.50+

$17.95

[horsesarecreatures]

Has anyone checked out Floret Farm's original seed releases? I was going to buy their Dawn Creek Blush zinnias but they're $17.95 per 50 seed pack. Forget it. I'm willing to pay more to support farms like them, but that's just preposterous. Sunflower Steve doesn't even charge that much and his varieties are more unique. Not surprisingly, none of the seeds have sold out yet even though a lot of people were anticipating it. I still like Floret Farms because they've done so much for the industry in terms of making information available and promoting sustainable methods, but I am a little disappointed in them for pricing like this because they're probably the most famous small-scale flower farm in the U.S. and they've been doing well.

[yesnancycraigposts]

[scotianostra]

January 27th 1974 the Greek sugar-carrying merchant navy ship Captayannis dragged it’s anchor and capsized on the Firth of Clyde between Greenock and Helensburgh.

The 4,567-ton 'sugar boat’ got into trouble on the night of January 27, when a fierce storm hit.

The vessel had dropped anchor at the Tail of the Bank, with a cargo of sugar from Lourenco Marques in Portuguese East Africa, and waited for high tide to offload it at the James Watt Dock sugar terminal for processing at Tate & Lyle’s Westburn Refinery.

However, a severe gale hit the west coast, with winds of more than 60mph, and the Captayannis began to drag anchor.

Captain Theodorakis Ionnis ordered the engine to be started, intending to make for the more sheltered waters of the Gare Loch.

Also anchored at the Tail of the Bank, however, was the 36,754 ton BP tanker British Light, recently arrived from Elderslie dry dock.

Before the Captayannis could power-up, the gale blew her towards the tanker, and, although the two vessels didn’t touch, the tanker’s anchor chain ripped through the passing Captayannis’ hull.

Seawater immediately started pouring in, and the pumps couldn’t cope.

The captain made for the sandbank to try to ground his ship, but, when he reached it, the profile of the hull meant the vessel wasn’t stable and began to heel over to port.

This resulted in all power being lost, and the Captayannis eventually settled port side down on the sandbank.

The crew were rescued, without injury, by the tug Labrador and the MV Rover of Clyde Marine Services.

By 10am on January 28, wreckage from the ship had already been washed ashore at Helensburgh.

The vessel has lain in the same spot since the sinking and is not considered a hazard to navigation.

She remains unable to be removed due to a wrangle between her owners and insurers, and plans to have her blown up were shelved due to fears over damage to the nearby Ardmore Point bird sanctuary.

The locals don't seem to mind the wreck lying there as it became a popular attraction for young fishermen and even tourists, a Bistro on Colquhoun Square, Helensburgh even bears the name Sugarboat. Through time Captayannis has become 'home' to marine life and birds, the wreck is even visible on satellite and is tagged on Google Earth.

Clyde Charters are running trips from James Watt Dock Marina to MV Captayannis to mark 50 years since the ship. It's a small boat carrying 12 passengers and the trip, which lasts an hour costs £17.95 for adults and £12.95 for children.

[collaredkittyboy]

We all know that we should be able to get IUDs and abortions at Claire's, but I also think Claire's should offer HRT and gender reassignment surgery. $17.95 plus tax.

[expendablemudge]

HOW WE NAMED THE STARS is a sweet first novel about first love, its pains, its lessons, and its triumphs over fear and adversity via Tin House.

[mensajeroseis]

going from a job that pays 17.95 to one that pays 24 while basically doing the same shit, kinda feel Good Af…

[littlegermanboy]

why does the price sticker on this 160 page paperback i bought like a year ago say this costed $17.95. why did i buy this that's morally reprehensible.

[intothestacks]

Cool Board Games for Your Library

Bookworm: The Card Game – $17.95 CAD

Type: Card Game Players: 2-8 Mechanics: Hand Management Playtime: 10-30 min Age: 8+ Skills You Practice: Strategy, Matching

Bücherwurm, the bookworm is looking for its successor and will test all of you as likely candidates by having you go through a plethora of different categories. In each category, you must find fitting words so that you can match a letter card in your hand. Whoever can get rid of all their letter cards first wins the game and the worthy title of successor!

Why it’d be good for a library collection:

Family-friendly

Simple gameplay

Small storage space

Cheap

Educational