#Colorado Craze

[4kalonewithnature]

Cozy Fireplace Ambience Relaxing Winter Vibes Welcome 2024 in Style Transform your space into a warm, relaxing haven with this cozy fireplace ambience video. Perfect for unwinding after a long day, celebrating the festive season, or welcoming the new year in style! Immerse yourself in the soothing crackling of the fire, a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, and a picturesque snowy mountain view that creates the ultimate winter wonderland experience.

[etherealproxy]

“Fame”

𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐱 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆

A/N: This is going to be a multiple part series. I portray Ticci Toby in this story as a sick, twisted, and insane man that’s been deprived of love for too long. This is the only chapter that will be dual POV; for future chapters, it will focus on solely one POV, switching off. Next chapter will be ONLY Toby’s perspective, then the next chapter will be only YOUR perspective.

Plot: You, a famous celebrity, accidentally catch the eye of a crazed murderer.

1.6K Words

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒:

- Goofy ass murderer falls in love with famous person bcuz he’s lowkey delusional!!

Cheering.

Thousands of voices coming together at once, chanting and screaming your name with favor. The second you stepped foot onto that stage, they erupted into applause and screams, nearly bursting your eardrums as you put on a kind smile.

You were one of the newer singers of this generation. Your mere presence made people giddy with excitement, as if you had something besides your voice to offer them.

But you didn’t feel the same about your fans.

Of course it was pure bliss to be surrounded by riches and people who’d quite literally sell their own soul for you, but it didn’t make you feel anything… except for greed.

You desired more— and you knew it was selfish. But these people were so parasocially invested in your life that it made you feel like you could never be entirely free of them. They were like insects who turned on you the second you made a simple mistake. Maintaining a good reputation wasn’t how you intended to spend your everyday life.

Yet, now that you were on stage staring at all of them, those thoughts faded. Their adoring faces made you realize how you wouldn’t be anywhere without them. There was no wind whipping at your hair despite the harsh weather conditions, no piles of snow invading your concert space… everything felt perfect. They chanted your name in unison, and it eased your nerves like water extinguishing a flame.

For this specific concert, you decided to go to Denver Colorado, specifically in a smaller town. Usually you aimed for big cities, such as Los Angeles, but you felt strangely inclined to pay a visit to the smaller majority of your fans. They didn’t receive enough attention from you.

Still, as you stared at all the occupied rows of seats in front of you, you felt glad to see everyone from different areas had gathered here just to see you.

With a deep breath, you stepped up to the microphone, silently praying you wouldn't mess up.

——

TOBY’S POV

Toby sat in front of the tiny TV, huddled up on his ratty and torn up couch, his eyes glued to the screen in interest.

Just a few seconds ago he was complaining about how cramped this cabin was, throwing himself onto the couch with a huff. He was trying to get comfortable, but ended up sitting on the remote, turning on a channel he had never visited. And there you were, displayed on the screen, your voice captivating him.

No one even remotely famous had ever visited this shitty place. Toby couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. He was desperate to know more. The mere idea that anyone who had even a slightly high social status had visited this ratty town was a foreign concept to him.

Maybe he was stupid for wanting to stalk a famous singer who probably wouldn’t even spare him a second glance. In fact, it was extremely risky to involve himself with you. No doubt your crazed fans would find out about him if he even waved in your direction. Trying to act out on his thoughts would put all the proxies in jeopardy because of his painfully reckless actions.

Yet, devilish idea formed in his mind, and he smiled under his mouthguard. Maybe there was a loophole.

He had never killed a celebrity before. There was a first time for everything right?

With a bit of manic laughter, he stood up, grabbing his hatchets from the wall.

In the meantime, he had other victims to kill.

——

YOUR POV

Fresh air greeted you, and you gulped it all in greedily, as if you had been deprived of it. Your limbs felt sore and weak, as if you’d collapse if a gust of wind blew at you.

Concerts always left you feeling weak. To make matters worse, in four days you would have to repeat the process. At least four days was much more lenient than the small amount of time you were usually given to prepare for your next show.

You sighed, brushing off your outfit as you shivered slightly. You easily could’ve had a private limousine drive you to your destination, but it would have drawn unwanted attention, so you made the ultimate decision to walk home. You just wanted some peace.

You stared ahead, stiffening a bit at the sight before you. It was a huge forest, with trees filling every single gap. It was pitch black, yet you could’ve sworn you saw something. Dread filled your stomach, but you forced yourself to pry your eyes away.

“A-a-are you a-a-alright?” A voice said from behind you. You spun around, only to be met with a man one inch away from your face. He seemed to lack spatial awareness.

Was he a fan?

Judging by the way he was staring into your soul, he must’ve been.

He was roughly around 5’6, not that much taller than you. He looked fairly scrawny, as if he lacked nutrients. He had curly brown hair, orange goggles, a black mouthguard, a beige hoodie with blue horizontal stripes on the sleeves, and dark jeans. It was as if he stepped straight out of the early 2000’s.

That part didn’t scare you. Everyone was entitled to their own fashion after all. What worried you was the fact he reeked of blood. The metallic scent filled your nostrils, and you instinctively backed away. It was putrid.

That small action didn’t go unnoticed, because he reached for you, as if he was attempting to grasp your wrist. He seemed to notice your fear, because he pulled his hand away, but didn’t break eye contact. As he stared at you, his gaze changed; it softened ever so slightly. You hadn’t even realized how tense he looked.

“T-T-Toby.”

“Huh?”

“That’s m-m-my n-name.”

“Oh.” It was an awkward conversation to say the least.

“W-w-w-why don’t I d-d-d-drive you h-home?” He asked, his stuttering becoming more prominent as he pointed towards his car. It would’ve been rude to ask why he was stuttering, so you stayed silent, not wanting to offend the creepy stranger.

You looked to the direction he was pointing, and felt a surge of pity course through you.

It was brown, rusty, and worn down. Everything inside it looked tattered and slightly stained— it was disgusting. It was as if someone had smeared a pile of mud everywhere inside it.

There was no way in hell you could enter that vehicle.

In your head you began conjuring up a creative way to refuse, but heard a stampede of footsteps from behind you. Groaning, you turned around, stepping in front of Toby as they prepared to take their pictures.

Paparazzi.

You grabbed his gloved hand, making his eyes widen in surprise, as you dragged him to his own car. You slammed open the door, muttering an apology as you got in the passenger seat. He got in next to you, looking slightly confused.

“**** **** *** is where I live. Now DRIVE.”

Toby followed your command, pressing his foot on the pedal without hesitation. You breathed a sigh of relief, but you didn’t feel exactly safe just yet, even if Toby had helped you.

“Sorry,” You apologized again, disliking how you treated him. He seemed like he had decent morals, so it wasn’t fair for you to judge him like that. Why hold him to the same standards as most of the terrible people you encounter? “I didn’t want them to take any pictures of you. I’d hate for you to get roped into that kind of world.”

Silence.

“Are you a fan?” You finally asked, avoiding eye contact. He shifted uncomfortably, as if thinking of an answer. At least that was a sign he wasn't ignoring you.

“S-s-sort of. I’ve s-s-seen you on TV once or t-t-twice.” You nodded, feeling relieved he wasn’t deranged like most of your fans.

Despite his supposed good natured intentions and demeanor, he kept sneaking glances at you, as if trying to memorize every single detail of your face. Even when you stared back at him, he didn’t stop. It made you slightly uncomfortable to say the least.

It wasn’t long before you arrived at your house. Well, not exactly your house— more so just one of the numerous properties you owned.

You hastily exited the car, stumbling a bit onto the sidewalk before regaining your composure. You looked at Toby, seeing the wary gaze on his face as he stared at you. You didn’t even properly thank him, poor guy. You decided maybe you should be kinder— after all, he had taken time out of his night just to return you home safely.

“Hey uhm, Toby right? Thanks for dropping me off. Do you wanna exchange numbers or…?” You felt pathetic. Usually celebrities aren’t the ones asking for other people's phone numbers. But he wasted no time agreeing, as if he had been expecting that.

After the small swapping of numbers, you two locked eye contact, and you felt a faint blush creep up your cheeks.

Suddenly he didn’t look so scary anymore.

You gave him a brief, awkward handshake before going inside your house. You couldn’t help but realize how strong his grip was on your hand, as if he was reluctant to let go.

——

TOBY’S POV

He felt ecstatic. It wasn’t even close to a challenge to find out your address AND get your phone number on the same night! I mean, how stupid must you have been to have done that so willingly?

Toby at first felt slight pity for you. After all, your life was so good, and he was about to end everything for you.

But after getting to have a full conversation with you? He was obsessed. He craved more of it. More of you.

He discarded his initial plan of slaughtering you like the rest of his victims. No, Toby wanted you around for much, much longer. Probably forever.

Is this what love was called? Because he wanted to feel more of it.

[violetreminder]

Happy Willamette Outbreak Day!

So today is the day where Frank West first arrives at the Willamette Parkview Mall, and as I start typing this it is in fact 11:27 AM, the exact time that Dead Rising 1 starts as Frank West is flown over Colorado. To celebrate I thought I'd write a little about Dead Rising 1's story and why it holds up so well even in comparison to its sequels bc I just love this game so much!

So then, what is the *deal* with Dead Rising? Well firstly it should be mentioned that this game came out in 2006, right in the middle of the mid-00's zombie craze. I say this because what sets Dead Rising apart from its numerous peers of "yet another piece of zombie fiction inspired by the works of Romero" is that Dead Rising is seemingly one of the few of these to actually understand Romero's films and their messages instead of just having zombies around because they're popular and scary. Specifically, those in "Dawn of The Dead", which it cribs to the point Capcom put disclaimers out saying that DR isnt associated with DotD.

The parallels are obvious: both stories revolve around people trying to survive in a shopping mall amid a zombie apocalypse using whatever is on hand not only against the zombified hordes, but fellow humans driven to extreme violence. Both also overtly critique American consumerism though Dead Rising takes the established themes from DotD and runs farther with them, but for more on that let's jump back a little bit to remember the plot to DR1

So in brief: Dead Rising tells the story of photojournalist Frank West, who flies to the quarantined town of Willamette, CO amid supposed 'civil unrest' to try and land a career-making scoop. Upon arriving at the town's shopping mall Frank is shocked to find out Willamette is overrun by zombies who soon-after overturn the barricades and flood into the shopping center. After a couple days of aiding/investigating a pair of DHS agents also trapped with him in the security room, Frank comes to realize the dark truth:

The Willamette outbreak is the result of a terrorist attack perpetrated in an act of revenge on the US government for a brutal coverup of the original zombie outbreak in the Central American town of Santa Cabeza, which occurred after US-backed researchers mutated a local species of parasitic wasp in an effort to increase cattle growth so as to sustain American eating habits. Frank at some point becomes infected, though with some help is able to synthesize a temporary cure. This lasts long enough for Frank to escape amidst the chaos of a military clean-up operation and reveal the truth about both Willamette and Santa Cabeza.

Again the parallels are clear, neither story is very subtle about the destruction consumerism causes, though Dead Rising goes a little farther to add a light colonialist aspect. While the origin of Dawn of the Dead's outbreak was an unimportant mystery serving only to set the scene, Dead Rising frames its zombies as an act of almost righteous comeuppance, the US "Finding Out" after "Fucking Around" in Santa Cabeza and the decades of US imperialism leading up to that, if you will. These themes also extend beyond just the shared vision of zombies shambling around a mall vacantly pushing shopping carts and into the world design of Dead Rising itself, for instance:

Dead Rising fans have remarked for almost two decades now that Willamette is a fairly small town for supposedly having a population over 50,000, and that even if this number holds true then the Willamette Parkview Mall is absolutely massive for a population that size. Honestly even just two of these plazas would likely still be too big [for reference, I live in a city of over 177,000 people and our main mall is about a quarter the size of Willamette Parkview Mall]

[above images taken from STiP0 on youtube, who has loads of great videos on DR1] While some of that may just be down to the scope of the game and what the developers were able to make/what they felt was strictly needed (Why model a whole town when youre only going to briefly see the zombie-filled main street before spending the rest of the game in The Mall) this also ends up serving the themes of 'the human cost of consumerism' even if by accident.

As stated by Frank's helicopter pilot in the prologue: The Mall seems to be the only notable spot in Willamette, hanging around its numerous plazas seems to be the only thing anyone in town ever does. Whats more, automated intercom announcements tell you that The Willamette Parkview Mall is only 3 years old by the time of the game. So while Willamette may not have had much before, any prior local identity has been totally wiped clean by the grand temple of consumption erected in its center.

Perhaps this is why Carlito chooses Willamette as the staging grounds for his grand plan of vengeance: this was a town that had no purpose but to aimlessly consume, with no thoughts given as to the suffering created in the wake of that consumption (for starters, one might ask how many local businesses and livelihoods were destroyed by The Mall?). A perfect microcosm of the stateside societal conditions that brought about the Santa Cabeza incident.

All of this to say that even if it is a bit heavy handed and unsubtle, Dead Rising 1 is well-grounded in those themes of the United States's over-consumption and its bloody struggle to maintain that level of avarice at the expense of the already impoverished. The military coming in to try and cover up the truth of Willamette and by extension further covering up Santa Cabeza underlines the latter.

Dead Rising is not always a serious game though, and in fact the majority of it is quite silly. Zombie hordes are treated largely as one big combination Stage Hazard/Meat Gag, you can clothe your Frank in ill-fitting kids clothes, dye his hair blond, and as you level up Frank learns a repertoire of moves straight out of professional wrestling that will see you decapitating zombies with backflip-kicks and ripping out their guts like you were in Mortal Kombat. What makes all that silliness really stick though is that the story never drops the dead-serious tone it opens with. Sure it has bits of humor here and there, and the seriousness of the cutscenes can be a little undercut when everyone is stone faced while Frank wears an oversized horse mask, but its that same dissonance that makes the game unforgettable. In my opinion a similar comparison to make would be to Saints Row 2, widely known for having a more serious and hard-hitting story in a game where you can hose people down with a septic truck in your free time. This comparison becomes even more apt in regards to the sequels to both titles sort of...missing that point and losing that identity, instead giving in to the chaos of the setting and making the world and its stories wackier with every installment to the detriment of the overall believability of the main plot. This might sound a bit ridiculous to say about a series where oversized wasp larvae zombify people (PLEASE do not ask me to explain how transmission works in this series) but throughout Dead Rising 1 once youre past the threshold of "Zombies are real" the rest of the plot and the world it takes place in all make sense for the most part, but by the time of Dead Rising 3 the world is mired in a stew of government and corporate conspiracies that makes Deus Ex look utopian by comparison.

[a solid example of Dead Rising 3 and its tone, though the issue there is less from the psychos and more that the setting has gone fully off the deep end by then] This isnt to say I dont like the sequels, in fact I think Dead Rising 2: Off The Record is the peak of the series in regards to gameplay, and maybe I'll do more writeups on the other entries [I wanted to get into more but this is already SO LONG] but the short of it is that Dead Rising 1 manages such a captivating balance between its ridiculous moment to moment gameplay and the dramatic weight of its setting all while not only holding on to the core themes of its greatest inspiration in Dawn of the Dead, but expanding upon those themes to make a stronger point of it than Romero did. Wow this went on longer than I'd thought. Its also come out way more coherent than I expected, but lemme wrap it up. I dont have the money for the Dead Rising Remake that came out today, but I've heard good things so far outside some performance issues, so maybe Capcom might be looking to bring Dead Rising back like they did with their other zombie-fest, Resident Evil. And maybe, just maybe, if we dream hard enough, they can retcon Dead Rising 4 like they should retcon RE6, but thats a writeup for another day. PS, to all Dead Rising fans: As someone who lives in the PNW, the game says Willamette wrong and it peeves me every time, its supposed to be pronounced "Wool-Lamm-Iht" not "Will-uh-met" but I know thats a losing battle.

[heretyc]

I'd Follow You To The Ends of the Earth [Short Eddie Fanfic]

Been dreaming about Eddie lately. I don't dream about characters unless I feel "adoration" for them...so clearly I've yet to leave my Eddie Gluskin phase lol.

The dream I had last night was humorous and I thought I'd write about it. Enjoy.

A little synopsis: You're like Miles, trying to expose Murkoff. So you went to Murkoff, obviously, and you went to Temple Gate after being told that Murkoff was behind an even more evil scheme. A little guest came with you.

Gender neutral. Eddie calls you his bride, but I think we all know he'll call you that regardless of sex/identity. So.

If you're curious, the dream was about me going to Temple Gate to seduce Val and Eddie followed me because I was already 'married' to him. AKA I had a crush on him first before playing Outlast 2. Good one, brain.

(❁)----------------------------------------------------------------------

So. Temple Gate was shit.

Just by getting out of your car and immediately smelling the air, you could tell this place was nasty. Old blood and a saccharine scent invaded your senses, and you scrunched your nose as a result. Fuck this place.

You've been here less than 5 hours, and you already want to fuck off into the moonlight. Blake and Lynn Langermann can wait. Hell, they're probably dead by now.

After being taken hostage by some crazed priest, then running into a delusional blonde who licked your face clean off, you had come to a conclusion.

"God, this place sucks." You mumbled to yourself.

"Don't be so harsh, darling."

Jumping out of shock, you rush to see who just spoke, and...

Dear god.

"EDDIE? What the fuck?!"

The scarred man looks at you with an excited expression, and you're more than confused. How the hell...?!

"How did you...? Did you FOLLOW ME HERE?"

This man was in COLORADO. You're in ARIZONA. How the FUCK...?

"Of course, darling...Is this our honeymoon spot?" Eddie questioned, looking around at the dusty, bloody horizons. He gave you no time to respond. Clicking his tongue, he looks at you with a teasing expression. "Not very romantic, dear."

You continued looking at him, eyebrows raised and your jaw slack. He took a gentle hand, placing it underneath your chin and pushing it upwards. "Close your mouth, dear. You'll eat flies. In this place, it's more than a guarantee."

"Eddie...this place is dangerous." You huff, putting your hands on your hips. "You could be killed."

"Why do you think I came? I heard your little phone call. I sure hope the man on the other end knows you're betrothed." He chuckles, pulling out a knife. The same one he used to threaten you with before he...proposed.

"What kind of husband would I be if I didn't protect my bride?" He raised a brow.

"Eddie...sweetie..." You put a hand on his shoulder, shaking your head sadly. "I have been taken hostage. And straddled. And called every insult in the book."

"Oh, I know." Eddie wiggled his brows and pointed behind him.

...Corpses.

The weird, mud-coated men and women who assisted in your forced licking session laid face down in the dirt. They had made the trek back to their abode and became victims to Eddie, apparently.

"I wasn't able to catch up to that delusional blonde, unfortunately." He pouted like he was denied a cookie after dinnertime. "I did, however, learn where they were staying. Conveniently enough, we are standing right in front of their place!"

You were in awe. You thought he was just some marriage-obsessed himbo.

Apparently not.

"Come, darling. I'll be with you every step of the way."

"Oh yeah?" You began walking toward the mines, and some of the Heretics came out, eagerly shrieking at the sight of the two of you. They were going to make you suffer.

"Absolutely!" He chirped, caring not about the dirtied water that coated your legs. "I will follow you to the ends of the earth."

Looking at the Heretics with an uneasy stare, you grinned.

"Good to know."

[daakjenaar]

Manic creativity in the best cRPG

I’m not doing anything else with this Tumblr account, so I’ll post my inane ramblings instead.

There is a fine line to walk when trying to fit so many ideas into one video game. Walk too far on the side of serious, realistic content, and you’ve brewed a modern Larian Studios game where an insistence on being down-to-earth is utterly destroyed by a comic-relief encounter with some sort of whimsical chicken in between body horror and misery. Or to a lesser extent, have an otherwise mostly serious story get derailed by something lighthearted but altogether harmless, as is the experience with so much of Fallout 2. Walk too far to the side of cartoony, goofy subject matter, however, and watch as your writing becomes the wrong kind of laughable the moment you try to get mature. See the Borderlands series for a fine example.

I just made someone angry with each of those takes, so moving on.

There are ways to maintain a balance. The simplest way is to stick to one side and cut out everything that doesn’t fit, to curate a game to be a cohesive experience. As much as it’s a shame that so much of Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 2 was forced to be cut, for all its faults, the game is a serious take on a classic, perhaps overdone franchise with a clear thesis. The balance between comedy and maturity can be achieved, of course, but that is easier said than done. As much as I hate to praise the works of Chris Avellone, I must cite a second project he worked on, every terminally online person’s most formative roleplaying game. Fallout: New Vegas is by no means a flawless game, I’m still amazed that the same quest can jump between the absurdity of helping a bunch of zombies piloting prop rockets to their holy land, and genuinely feeling conflicted about their treatment of their non-ghoul scientist ally. Of course the ghouls need these model rockets, that makes perfect sense, but did they need to gaslight this poor human into helping them? The quest I’m citing is the go-to for anyone singing the game’s praises, but any number of the game’s regions are host to the same kind of mix of the two tones. With high-enough quality in your writing, even the most disparate vibes can mesh.

But that’s a high bar. Saying to “just write good enough to make it work, lmao” is useless advice. Writing is exceedingly difficult, and good writing even moreso. So what if you try doing everything at once? Every idea, regardless of cohesiveness, coherency, sometimes even quality, all thrown into a bizarre soup of raw creativity.

If that sounds like a good time, then I urge you to get yourself a copy of Wasteland 3. All at once, it is one of the most engaging, fascinating, and baffling video games I have ever played. A point where it crosses the threshold from ‘a few weird ideas’ to a display of sheer, manic creativity. The kind of game where I encountered a weaponized statue of Ronald Reagan and the robot anarchist commune said statue is fighting. Where many quests center around a society of people named the ‘Monster Army’, who wear outfits taken from an off-brand Spirit Halloween and inhabit an old, buried mall. All the while, this Monster Army is under constant threat from a bunch of crazed clown-themed bandits who bring pain and destruction wherever they go. A partially-mechanized army of well-organized raiders seek to pillage and claim the post-apocalyptic snow-swept lands of Colorado, lands currently led by a man who wields a comically large warhammer wrapped with an American flag, sitting upon a throne of guns.

Wasteland 3 is a truly, genuinely bizarre title. At every turn, the game has some new idea to throw at you. The tone is so erratic that there really is no tone anymore. In its own way, it is such a strange and incoherent game that it comes full circle into making perfect sense. The most faithful attempt at recreating a classic psychedelic film in a game format. The game’s own drug imagery aside, every facet of its story seems to be focused on baffling and throwing off the player. The gameplay itself is quite good as far as cRPGs go, but the story is why the game has stuck with me so strongly for well over a year after playing it. Even when the game gets serious, there’s still an air of delirium. Sure, everything seems to be making sense now, but when is this important character going to do something fucking weird? I know it’ll happen, I’m just waiting. On paper, Wasteland 3 should be a mess, incoherent in all of the worst ways, and a cautionary tale. In contrast, though, it broke the idea of coherency so hard that it makes perfect sense. You just need to be in the right mindset to pick up on it, the kind of mindset you get in after clearing out a clown-bandit circus camp or watching a (good) Ralph Bakshi movie. 

There are absolutely points being made, satires to be found among the bizarre vignettes, and moments that justify the game’s strangeness. I’m sure that the murderous Reagan statue’s saying something witty about America, and I can’t help but look for some meaning in the Patriarch of Colorado and his throne of guns. A game written by a more self-serious writer might try to add a few more layers of abstraction, but Wasteland 3 dares to ask the most important question.

With a sufficiently large gun, can I kill Ronald Reagan? If you know anything about writing essays and wish to malign my sloppiness here, please direct unto me your rage in great detail. I am a failed arts student, and thus too lazy to properly structure arguments.

[propelaxeleague]

Axe Throwing Nearby Denver: The Ultimate Social Experience

Join the craze at Propel Axe that is sweeping through Colorado. Our Denver Venue is the ultimate destination to enjoy relentless fun and adventure for axe throwing nearby Denver, Colorado. Relish an unforgettable time filled with friendly competition, social communication, camaraderie, and a whole lot of thrills from hitting the bullseye. Book your axe throwing slot today and experience excitement like never before.

[rainyracoon]

Actually, im gonna talk about the National Wildlife Property Repository and the Eagle Repository

Theyre in the same building on the Rocky Mountain Arsenal Wildlife Refuge (which is an amazing refuge, super beautiful even though its basically surrounded by urban developement). I was able to tour it because I volunteer for Colorado Parks and Wildlife and they were doing some volunteer only tours to practice for potentially opening up to the public. At this time, im not sure if there are public tours or not yet.

Like I was saying in the tags of that other post, the Eagle Repository is where all dead bald and golden eagles go after they're found and reported. Basically, the birds received are broken down into parts (beaks, talons, tail feathers, wing feathers, etc) and sorted by quality. Native American tribes put in orders to get specific parts of the birds for whatever purposes they need (us parks and wildlife doesnt ask why they need it bc its not their business!) and then the orders are filled in the order they are received as the birds become available. So an order for a specific bird or a whole bird (i.e., a whole young gold eagle) can take a very long time to fill if no juveniles are found for a while.

The Wildlife Repository is a giant warehouse filled with confiscated or surrendered items related to thre illegal wildlife trade. Im talking taxidermy (good and bad), medicinal items, boots, clothing, ivory, elephant hair bracelets, fucking lamp posts and stools made from animals. There was a taxidermy fetal tiger.

It was pretty disturbing but the tour they gave us was really interesting. Theres over 1.4 million items there and its the largest organized wildlife property collection in the world. They do loan to museums and other educational programs sometimes but of the most part, those items are just there so they arent in public circulation anymore.

They only let us take pictures of the showroom, not the warehouse, but i have put them under a cut because some of them are still pretty disturbing

Here is a taxidermy snowy egret next to a display talking about the bird feather hat craze

Here is a lamp post and stool made from an elephant's trunk and foot along with a pair of tusks and a case of ivory items

Bags, boots, and coin purses made from various animals

A cabinet of various medical/beauty products. Some are actually effective and some arent

And of course, lots and lots of taxidermy

[buttercupkg66]

Fearless Panera worker bashes customer with bread pan after he assaults ...

A pan-wielding Panera Bread worker repeatedly bashed a crazed customer in the head when he started to assault employees and customers in a violent outburst inside the Colorado fast-casual restaurant.

The suspect, identified by the Glendale Police Department as Isaac Ross, started wreaking havoc inside a Panera Bread in Glendale — five miles outside Denver.

[giseleharvey]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Tree Trunk Pedestal Planter Brown.

[backyardchickennews]

Are Backyard Chickens Legal In Colorado? Are Backyard Chickens the Perfect Addition to Your Colorado Home? Is Raising Chickens in Colorado Worth the Legal Hassle? How much will it cost to raise backyard chickens in Colorado? What Do Backyard Chickens in Colorado Need to Thrive? Are Backyard Chickens Worth the Trouble? Colorado chicken lovers have been buying chickens at such a rapid rate that hatcheries and farms are struggling to keep up with demand. As a result, places like Wardle Feed have set limits of six chicks and four pullets per customer. The sudden craze is probably a direct result of empty grocery store shelves and meat purchase limits. As a result, people are stocking up on backyard chickens, building deep freezers and starting a garden. https://backyardchickennews.com/are-backyard-chickens-legal-in-colorado/?feed_id=5732&_unique_id=664dd09fd9aaa

[ramrodd]

Evangelical leader destroys Trump like we've never seen before

COMMENTARY:

Evangelicals  need to accept the fact that the Key Bridge disaster is a sign of God's anger at the heresy of Trump saluting the January 6 traitors singing The National Anthem from Jail. when I say "a sign' i mean it exactly in  the context of the Gospel of John, Now, I know you have this prissy little fetish of putting the Gideon Bible in our hotels room on the floor outside your door, It's a characteristic you share with Ben Shapiro, that sort of intellectual prissiness. The thing is, I've had a conscious relationship with the Holy Spirit since 1953 and a working relationship with him since 1990, assembling the evidence that the Gospel of Mark was written by Cornelius, the centurion featured in Acts 10. Cornelius exists in the person and office of the Command Sergeant Major of the US Army across the hall from the US Army Chief of Staff. All the centurions were Pagan God Fearers long before Moses cam into their lives as members of the profession of arms, LIke Abram, they knew Yaweh, Queen of Battle without having to be circumfixes. As a  combat crazed Vietnam veteran I know Yaweh, Queen of Battle, I am a process theology guru because, unlike Whitehead, the existence of The One is excludes doubt from the Pucker Factor. I'm not making this stuff up. Trump represents the spiritual  smog of evil intent of the January 6 agenda going bac to the Nixon Plumbers, One of the effects tha the broadcasting of  Christian Nationalism associated with January 6 and the House Freedom Caucus is causing the extreme weather in the Bible Belts by agitating the Spirit of God that  continues to hover over the waters. This constant roll of weather coming across from the Pacific is the Spirit of God  responding to the  emanations of the collective Id of neo-Nazi Jesus Freaks centered around  Colorado Springs. The constant barrage of Christian Nationalism broadcasting for  Conservatives since Newt Gingrich became Speaker has probably been acceleration global warming by the spiritual   distortions of all things Trump. So, I'm not kidding about the Key Bridge disaster being a sign from God  that Trump is the anti-Christ. Francis Scott Key was a British prioner on a gunship right where that bridge fell down and watched the bombardment of Fort McHenry, This is God's indictment of Trump and the January 6 conspiracy for high crimes and heresy, This is God's endorsement of what is sacred in the US Constitution and Declaration of  Independence and God's condemnation of Trum; et al's sacrilege and heresy, Lay that outside your hotel room for all the world to see.  

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Cozy 4K Fireplace Ambience with Christmas Tree Peaceful Vibes for World Peace

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Colorado’s Great Diamond Hoax of 1872

In 1872, Prospectors Philip Arnold and his cousin John Slack sold a false American diamond deposit to prominent businessmen in San Francisco and New York City. Triggering a diamond prospecting craze in the western states of Colorado, New Mexico, Wyoming,

In 1872, Prospectors Philip Arnold and his cousin John Slack sold a false American diamond deposit to prominent businessmen in San Francisco and New York City. Triggering a diamond prospecting craze in the western states of Colorado, New Mexico, Wyoming, Utah, and Arizona. The Great Diamond Hoax of 1872 was one of the biggest cons of its time. Read more More about this subject

[dxrkenedheights]

Name: Skoll Jansen

Age & Birthday: 36 years old, September 12th 1988

Gender/Pronouns: cis man she/him

Birthplace: White River, Colorado

Time in Hollow Cove: 1 week (Jan '24)

Species: Werewolf / Visser Pack

Role: Soldier / Patrol / Trainer

Positives: constant, observant, brave, devoted

Negatives: sly, brutal, treacherous, impulsive

ABOUT

Skoll was named after the giant wolf that chased the sun. The one who mocks. And from an early age, he embodied the typical sneering and mocking personality that is seen across his host of brothers. The Jansen name has always carried a proud reputation for the warriors it produces. The Visser wolf pack in White River had been their home for generations, and nothing but warriors have emerged from their name. It was cosnidered something of a blood-gift in their lineage, to be crazed and unpredictable in the battlefield. But, beyond life as a warrior, it was not uncommon to find the Jansen name dragged through mud. Like his brothers, Skoll became a heart that was full of intensity. While he might not be loud and boastful, there is an obvious air of confidence that follows him and laces through his dry, cold and sarcastic words.

His arrogance has often been his biggest downfall, but Skoll sees the trait as a blessing rather than a curse. He went through his life with his brothers at his side, all of them chaotic and unyielding in their own way. On some days he offers guidance and on others, he offers troubl. It has been this way since they were boys, all six of them either fighting shoulder to shoulder or battling against one another in erupting sibling rivalry. But, their bond has always been unbreakable, forged during the grueling training that the Jansen traditions begin long before their wolves turn thirteen years and shift for the first time.

Alongside learning how to be a warrior, Skoll showed heightened skills at extracting information from enemies. He became known as Skoll the Mindbreaker. His excruciating methods always seemed to leave their prisoners brains a muddled mess, desperate to speak their secrets in hope for a survival that was promised but never came. It became difficult for others to trust Skoll when this became his fate, some wolves and witches avoided him in a bid to keep their own sanity intact. But, there was one wolf that seemed to be more intrigued than intimidated.

Lilja Visser captured Skoll's attention from the moment he noticed her ears, caught within the shift of human to wolf, delicately peeping from beneath her hair. Her adventurous and sometimes mischievous spirit was equally as endearing to him, and the two of them were suddenly inseparable. At least, until it became obvious that their differing personalities were sometimes too vast to ever meet in the middle. Just as stubborn as she, Lilja and Skoll were entranced in a back and forth cycle. He was forever chasing the sun, just as his name always suggested his fate would be.

When the war began in 2020, Skoll fought for the two days until he finally needed to retreat. He managed to escape with some of his brothers, Hati, Vidar and their youngest brother Egil. Together they have remained fighting across the lands in order to search for their other missing brothers Thorin and Loki. It has been a wild journey, with many mishaps and typical Jansen chaos along the way. Skoll has also been determined to find any trace of Lilja's survival, sometimes convincing his brothers into precarious situations because he's convinced it leads them to her.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Blind Dog Canyon by Brett Cogburn

A Widowmaker Jones Western #5

I don’t usually come into a series on book five and did not see in the book description that this was not a standalone story but part of a series. That said, I had no trouble following the story. I am curious about what Newt did in the previous books and when he met Mr. Smith but otherwise was fully invested in the story and how it would turn out.

What I liked: * Newt: survivor, pugilist in the past, has his own set of ethics, good friend, generous, cares for the weak, does what is required, a survivor, scarred, steady, an interesting man

* Mr. Smith: Mohave Indian, travels with Newt, has seen the world, educated, wears a suit, tattooed, wise, older, multilingual, quiet, believes in clan and family

* Zuri: young, daughter of shepherd killed early in the book, survives the wilderness and evil men and bitter cold, goes on a quest at the end of the book, curious about how her life will unfold

* Rufus: Happy Jack’s rescue dog, old, has cataracts, might be deaf, really wondered if he made it through the winter

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* That I was invested in the characters and hoped the ones I cared about would make it to the end alive

* That the bad guys were exposed and that most were handily dealt with

* Thinking about good vs evil and the shades of gray in between – men are men and not always easy to classify as one or the other

What I didn’t like: * Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about how difficult life must have been in the time period of this story and how much effort must have been needed to survive

Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Yes

Thank you to NetGalley and Kensington-Pinnacle for the ARC – This is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

Two-time Spur Award winner Brett Cogburn revives the true grit and glory of the Old West with a hero as glorious as the author’s real-life ancestor Rooster Cogburn — master gunman Newt “Widowmaker” Jones. But when the Widowmaker agrees to guard a mountain of silver against an outlaw out for revenge and a cold-blooded hired gun, has he signed his own death warrant? They call him “The Cutter”… Famous for his fancy bowler hat, striped shirts, and double-holstered revolvers, Kirby Cutter is no ordinary gun-for-hire. He’s a cold-blooded professional. The best of the best—and the deadliest of the deadly. Which is why one of the nation’s biggest silver companies hired him. His latest job: To locate a silver claim in the Colorado mountains—and eliminate the competition. His biggest obstacle: The silver is guarded by Newt “The Widowmaker” Jones, a legend in his own right. But Cutter has a wild card up his fancy striped sleeve. His hatchet man is the outlaw Johnny Dial, who’s itching to slaughter Jones for killing his brother. It’s not the only showdown Widowmaker Jones has to deal with. A crazed grizzly is prowling the area, too—and it’s developed a taste for human flesh… One way or another, someone is going to meet their maker. But it sure as hell won’t be the Widowmaker…

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