#Sanitisation Tunnel

[euroblastme01]

Cleaning and Sanitation

We are a recognized supplier of cleaning and sanitization equipment in the Dubai, UAE. There are variety of tools and equipments available that can be used for cleaning and sanitizing surfaces and objects.

[icarryitin]

Episode 24: Trade Deal

spencer reid/gn!reader

i started this bc i was ill and feeling sorry for myself and it turned into a very not to me not if it’s you kind of vibe, mostly bc i frankensteined a couple of my favourite translations of That Scene so they could have their own version🥰🥰

series masterlist

word count: 1.5k // warnings: reader has a cold and all the grossness that comes with it, spencer is so Cute™️ it causes me physical pain

summary: In which Spencer Reid, known germaphobe, pretends he doesn’t know exactly how many pathogens have made their home in your sinuses.

It starts with a scratchy throat on a Tuesday morning.

You don’t think much of it, blame it on seasonal allergies, knock back a multivitamin - you’re not about to be bested by a cough of all things. That is, until it gets to Friday afternoon. You’re trying, you really are. Your immune system has other plans.

“You stay right there, Patient Zero.”

Rossi’s comment would be funny if you didn’t think that laughing might trigger a coughing fit that could very well be the end of you, right there in the doorway of Hotch’s office. That’d be one hell of an epitaph - too stubborn to take a sick day, choked to death in boss’s office. Hotch, at least, already seems to know why you’re hovering.

“I’m-“

“Going home, I hope.” He interrupts you with all the fondness of a concerned father. You don’t have the energy to argue, or to hold up an unaffected front. The men standing by the window soften a little as they watch you visibly deflate. Dave promises to send you his Nonna’s minestrone recipe, there’s nothing it can’t cure; right now, though, you’re only thinking about your bed.

The well wishes follow you through the bullpen, old wives tales and family cures that have never failed. JJ tells you to sweeten your tea with honey, Derek swears that a hot water bottle on your back will work magic. Even Emily pipes up from behind her germ shield, the folder held across her face so you can only see her eyes, and tells you to take a hot shower first thing in the morning - the steam will clear you out for the day. There’s a chorus of agreement, or disagreement you’re not sure. It’s a struggle to hear much over the cotton wool in your ears.

“We’ll see, with any luck I’ll die in my sleep. Love you!” You sniffle as you back out of the office, feeling all kinds of sorry for yourself, and determined to make it as far as you can without touching anything. Lest you actually start the next plague.

Spencer watches you go, shuffling backwards out of the office and turning towards the elevators. He’d elected not to add his own suggestions to the plethora of options supplied by the rest of the team. Unable to focus on much beyond just how tired you look. You’ve been fighting this thing all week, he’d passed over his own supply of hand sanitiser only that morning when you ran out. Ultimately, you put up a good fight, but there’s no cure for a virus. It just has to run its course. Just like his own feelings.

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be comparing a virus to whatever it is he feels for you. Has felt, will feel - if there’s an end to this tunnel, he can’t see it yet.

“What about you, Spence?”

JJ’s voice pulls him from his thoughts before he can start spiralling down that particular hole. It takes him a moment to recall what they’d been chattering about before your long overdue exit - drinks, right. Yeah, that’s not happening.

“I’m busy, actually.” He shrugs, content to miss out on one night in favour of the plan currently coming to fruition in his mind. They won’t miss him too much.

“Busy? You weren’t busy when we talked about it last week.” Emily makes no effort to conceal her surprise. To be fair to them, it’s not like him to blow them off. There’s just something that’s come up, something decidedly you shaped, that’s far more important.

“Yeah, I forgot. Sorry.”

Spencer doesn’t miss the look that JJ and Emily share, he doesn’t miss the eyebrow that Derek raises in his direction. He simply chooses to ignore them.

At least the walk to your apartment is short, there’s still heat leeching from the plastic bag around Spencer’s wrist as he fumbles with his keys. You’d given him a bright pink key cap, so he’d know which one was yours, as if he wouldn’t know anyway. Eidetic or not, that’s one he would have committed to memory. The excuse had been because he was helping you out whilst you were down an arm, takedown gone wrong, you’d dislocated your shoulder. And then you’d insisted he keep it, because someone should have your spare key, and he’s the least likely of the lot of you to lose it.

He thinks you might be asleep at first, open plan living area lit only by a salt lamp and a set of fairy lights draped over your kitchen window, it’s cosy. And then you appear in the bedroom doorway, wrapped in a jewel toned blanket. The low light is forgiving, but Spencer would be able to spot the bags under your eyes from a mile away. Without his glasses.

“I brought noodles.” He says as he turns back to set the steaming bag on your kitchen counter.

“I’m so gross right now.” As if to demonstrate your point, another cough racks your body. You just about manage to catch it under the swathes of blanket clutched in your fingers, but at least he can’t claim you’re not truly disgusting in this moment.

“I don’t mind.”

You’re so set on denying him entry that you don’t even really register what he said - Spencer Reid doesn’t mind that you’re ill. He doesn’t mind. A younger, healthier version of you would swoon. You might anyway, although that’s probably the vertigo talking.

“You’ll get sick.” Your rebuttal is weak, resolve crumbling. Warm noodles do sound pretty good right now.

“Will you let me help you, please?” It’s the firmest he’s ever been with you. No room for argument, doctor’s orders. So you have to relent. Not that you have much of a choice, he’s already pottering about in your kitchen in search of bowls. As if he doesn’t remember where they are.

“Did you get me a number three?” Your voice is brighter than he’s heard it all week.

“With extra toppings, of course.”

And those extra toppings go down a treat, of course they do.

Spencer watches you carefully as you eat - usually he’d be a little more subtle about it, but there’s not a lot that could pull your attention away from the bowl in your hands. You’re cross legged on the couch, blanket bunched around your middle, happy as a clam. Something his mother would say. He wonders what else she might say, what she might think about the abandonment of his germaphobia. Convenient, probably. Diana would say it with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile, the one that’s just for him. She has always liked you.

He promises he’ll be back tomorrow, once dishes are washed and leftovers are tucked neatly in your fridge, to make sure you get that hot shower Emily mentioned. The steam will definitely help, he’s read about it. Arguing with him would be pointless. You don’t have the energy, he’d only show up anyway, and it’s kind of nice to feel looked after. Spencer’s never failed to make you feel like that. You’re far too delirious to start thinking about that, not while he’s still standing in front of you at least. So you let him tuck you into bed, let him leave a glass of water on the table, let him dote. Pretending is a comfort when you feel as awful as you do. You’re already drifting off before he’s even ready to leave, content enough in your bed with the sound of him in the other room. Just, tinkering.

The sound of your front door opening rouses you the next morning, just about. Just enough to raise your head from your pillow and witness the sorry sight in your bedroom doorway.

Spencer’s trying - key word, trying - to suppress his sniffles, but the red rimmed eyes and tissue clutched in his fist give him away. It’s impossible to keep the sad little smile off of your face.

“Oh no.” You reach out a tired arm to pat the space beside you. There’s enough room for the two of you in amongst the blankets, and Spencer’s so far gone that he doesn’t even argue. His shoes and bag find a home at the foot of your bed as he lets himself collapse into the nest you’ve built. Tension leeches out of his body the moment he hits the mattress.

You have to lean across him to get your phone, right arm outstretched over his back - you can feel the heat rising off of him through his sweater and yours. Fever, that’s day two. Which means he spent yesterday evening taking care of you whilst he began to feel worse and worse. Softie.

“Egg or no egg?”

There’s an affirmative grunt from where his face is buried in your blankets. Egg it is, then. You dial the number mostly from memory, elbow still resting on his shoulder blade when you put the phone to your ear. You feel a little better than you did, but dragging yourself to the front door is still probably all you’ll be capable of today. At least you won’t be suffering alone. The line rings for a moment, then clicks, and a grainy hello sounds from the other side.

“Hi, can I place a breakfast order for delivery, please?”

i’m stuck on which chapter to work on next, do we want angst or yearning or fun flirty activities????🧡

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Say yes to heaven (say yes to me) ❞

Michael Myers x gn!reader x Corey Cunningham | dating drabble | graphic description of violence, mentions of nsfw things |

req: I’ve been absolutely obsessed with Michael and Corey recently and was wondering if we could get some Michael x Reader x Corey action going here? Just general headcanons of how that relationship would go!! <;33

Your boyfriends are truly on opposite ends on nearly every spectrum.

Not just in age — which, let's discuss before anything else.

Michael is in his 60's while Corey is in his 20's — by themselves? They make a pretty unlikely couple, but they're also clearly deranged, so no one can comment on that.

Throwing you in the picture? Chaos erupts.

Despite his age, Michael's impulse control is something that's held together by a stringy shoelace and tape. Don't get me wrong, Corey's just as awful but somehow it's slightly better than Michael's.

All this to say, if you're just as awful at controlling your impulses? The devil himself will need to leash all three of you before Haddonfield is plunged into total destruction.

The sewers aren't an ideal living space but it brings Michael a smidge of comfort, so when Corey's parents mysteriously 'disappear' he works on making an underground tunnel of sorts so Michael can come and go as he pleases.

Corey and you joke it's basically your boyfriends' doggy door and Michael death-glared from where he stood.

Michael is a tough nut to crack — but his weakness has been and will always be acts of service.

A warm meal, a warm bath, getting bloodstains off his clothes...

Helping him shave.

He is truly spoiled by Corey and you because now when he tries to shave he finds himself inexplicably frustrated it's not your fingers tilting his head back or Corey's deadly hands carefully going along the grain.

You've walked into the bathroom and yelled in shock when the lights switch on to reveal Michael standing near the sink with his razor blade, a frown oh-so-prominent on his face.

"...Do you need some help, babe?" Michael's scruffy face that glowers at you is all the answer you need.

Though a man of few words, the little things he does is more than telling of how much he cares about his lovers.

The daily pouches/bags/backpacks/etc Corey and you use are always filled with your necessities. Whether it be hand sanitiser, wet wipes, or mints — he even makes sure to slip your phones, wallets and keys in before you two leave. Michael doesn't engage in these mundane things but he knows they're important to you so he assists anyways.

Corey fills Michael's silence with his voice. Once he gets to talk about something that interests him, he could talk for hours on end and Michael is a great listener (even if he looks as though he's not paying attention).

Corey's a big fan of physical touch. He loves making it known that you're his in public and adores it just as much when you return the gesture — he turns red when Michael and you hold him between your bodies.

When your murderous partners are off to fulfil their homicidal needs, they tread carefully on their way to the bathroom once they're home. You've laid out a tarp to ease their journey, please keep the crime scene contained, boys.

Michael and Corey stalk you and each other — it can't be helped. They just need to make sure their lovers are safe.

Michael will steal for both of you. If any of you eye something for more than 10 seconds in a store, not 24 hours later it's vanished and 'somehow' appeared in your shared bedroom.

Date nights are comfortable and chaotic. Corey is sweet, his plans involve someplace hidden where the three of you can just be. Michaels' are more unconventional in a way that's endearing because he's an old man and an infamous killer.

Sewers are his go-to transportation and then when the three of you pop out he monotonously gestures to a beautiful home that's almost bordering a mansion. He opens the doors, meanders to the lavish dining room and there's the grand feast the couple he'd just slaughtered were going to eat.

"Thank you, Michael" Corey's grin is impossibly crooked and bright while you press a kiss to Michael's masked cheek — Michael's old heart squeezes with adoration.

Oftentimes, Michael experiences cuteness aggression. He has to hold himself back from physically grabbing you and Corey by your necks and shaking you around.

Peepaw appreciates all your music tastes. As long as you like it, he'll like it.

You're always in the centre when you three cuddle up. It's hot, they run hot — don't recommend it during summer nights.

Your boyfriends are velcro boyfriends though, good luck.

This is a bit silly, but Corey taught Michael about his job (he talked about the ins and outs of vehicles and Michael listened as he watched Corey work on his bike).

Michael can't be trusted on or in vehicles but there was one occasion where a victim had both you and Corey put in a tough spot and Michael had mowed them down on Corey's bike.

Corey picks you up from work but sometimes, an older man dressed in a rugged leather jacket and motorcycle helmet pops up and your coworkers whisper about you allegedly "cheating" on Corey.

("Cheating?" your coworker nods. They had bumped into Corey in a coffee shop and caught the mechanic, their guilt too strong to keep it a secret. To their surprise, Corey laughs as they describe the mysterious older gentleman with scarred hands. "No, no, (Y/N)'s not cheating — that's our boyfriend", your coworkers could not look you in the eye for a few days after that, much too embarrassed.)

Michael is a fan of watching. He's quite content with it, getting off on watching his beautiful lovers writhing in pleasure.

Corey's just pumped full of stamina — so much energy pent up in his body that quickies are rarely ever quick when it comes to Corey.

When Michael joins though? It's one hell of a ride for everyone.

The reason your bedframe is reinforced and your mattress is huge is so clear when your entire body is covered in teeth marks, bruises, scratches and stained with sweat, tears, blood and cum.

Corey's such an eager puppy. Obedient but so stupid when he's drunk on your taste.

Michael's grunts and growls always have you and Corey whining. His hands are just so big that when they cover your mouth you can barely breathe.

The thrill you get knowing the hands that worship and claim you are the same hands that have slaughtered and murdered countless of people? Indescribable.

Sometimes, when they reach the bedroom before they wash up after a kill they all but pounce on you.

"I'll clean it later" Corey mumbles as he rips your sleeping garments away, Michael holds you firmly to his chest — his raging hardon pressed on your ass as you squirm.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you, just, just needed this" Corey's lips are smeared with blood and spit and when you're on all fours with your face against Michael's crotch you know why. Those bloody streaks on his curved cock belonged to Corey whose fucking the air out of your lungs.

Michael has the best head game, lmao. The old man can deep-throat dick like a professional — Corey came so fast when Michael first did it to him and the both of you could not stop pestering Michael on where he learned how to do that.

He teaches both of you his tricks. Refuses to indulge in how he knows it.

[charms-cat]

Is it a good idea to remove the more bloody parts when adapting from book-to-movie?

I know it's a problem when movies show unnecessarily violent scenes; too many of that and I think an audience would get kinda numb to the cruelty displayed

but in cases of book-to-movie adaptations, would the standard be the same? the book(s) already exists; there's already a (semi) graphic description literally written out. so do you think the movie should keep the violence?

imo movies tend to sanitise/lessen the bad parts which kinda presents a false image to the movie-only audience since they're unaware of just how bad this character/group/organisation is

it doesn't help when the violence is completely removed. not even an equally damning (but less bloody) scene to take its place. so movie-only fans don't have a "full" understanding of the character since they don't know how mean/cruel/atrocious they actually are (or were meant to be)

Non-spoiler example would be something like if Organisation B, in the book, was a group that murdered kids and desecrated their corpses; but in the movie, B is alluded to committing atrocities, but nothing actually happens onscreen (at least not explicitly)

TLDR: do you think adaptations should keep the original violence from the books? should there be a balance? or should adaptations sanitise (or straight up remove) any atrocities from the books?

SPOILER examples forThe Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials, The Hunger Games, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes below (I'll be doing the examples in order so just scroll fast if you wanna read one spoiler but not the other):

The Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials

admittedly, the movies kinda went off the rails starting from TST but imo it wasn't in a good way. my main gripe is that WICKED seems... nicer

(it's been a while since I fully read the books so I might mix up some events)

in the books, the Gladers were left alone for a few/several days before Janson showed up and explained the Trials to them. then on the first day of the Trial(?), the Gladers were shocked by multiple bodies hanging from the ceiling. then they had to travel through a dark tunnel where they got attacked by metal balls that literally swallowed your head. this is all before they actually step onto the Scorch! WICKED prepared that for them! all this to obtain the Killzone data

but in the movies, WICKED was keeping them in the facility before harvesting them. it's cruel to treat these kids like that, yes, but it's still nowhere near the level of fucked up of book!WICKED planning lethal traps just to see how their test subjects react and adapt.

PLUS, book!WICKED forced the Gladers to enter the Scorch by promising that there would be a safe haven(?) after they travelled 100 miles; they do this without ever preparing the Gladers for the harsh desert environment, the Cranks, etc.

yet in the movies, the Gladers escape to the Scorch of their own volition. WICKED had no part in their harsh environment or any traumatic event the Gladers experience

the final Trial in the book was orchestrated by WICKED; the Gladers and Icers had to fend off violent lightbulb monsters while lightning struck all around them; WICKED only picked them up at the designated time (I think they were supposed to reach the 100-mile mark at a certain time?)

there's no real Scorch Trials in the movie literally called "The Scorch Trials". WICKED never gave them a trial, never forced them to the Scorch; they disappeared until the very final scene. compare this to the fact that book!WICKED was a looming threat (the constant reminder that they had to reach a certain location in limited time, the mysterious messages painted on the walls of city buildings, the Gladers literally being labelled on their collarbones, etc.)

The Hunger Games

THG has probably one of the better, if not one of the best, adaptations. I'll admit that this gripe is ultimately something minor

but I'm still a lil disappointed that the movie changed a psychological tactic from the Gamemakers - the dog mutts

the dog mutts are still scary in the movie, but, in the books, the mutts were also said to resemble the dead tributes. the Gamemakers had even made Rue's mutt wear a grass necklace, similar to how Rue wore a grass necklace as her tribute token.

as I said before, this is an admittedly minor issue but it's still one of the instances where we see that the Gamemakers are definitely aiming to attack the tributes psychologically as well as physically. the psychological attacks happen in the next books too - the voices of tortured loved ones from the jabberjays (Catching Fire), the lizard mutts hissing Katniss's name (Mockingjay)

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (this movie should've been a two-parter)

I understand that they only had two hours to cram everything in, but it doesn't change the fact that, in the process, they also had to cut out all of the Capitol's atrocities

it's been a while since I fully read the book, but there is one horrifying cruelty that I can remember: Arachne's funeral

specifically, the way that the Capitol paraded the surviving tributes down the road. the tributes were chained up and crammed together on one truckbed(?) while the corpse of another tribute (Brandy) swung above them. not only did the Capitol chain up the kids like animals, but they also disrespected Brandy's corpse. yes, Brandy had murdered Arachne, but Brandy was already brutally shot by the Peacekeepers after being starved by them for days, she was already suffering and she doesn't get any respect even in death

[abyssalpriest]

There's something borderline erotic about seeing Lev in my own wet hair. I leave it in a towel to dry, it gains DNA-around-the-Caduceus spirals, but in the shower before drying - no, nothing unsavoury going on, the "erotic" part is divorced from mundane washing - it is pitch black and perfectly straight. Gloss, the black cave rivers, the cascading weight of running water saturating it and gripping it. I rinse it, I thread water through it, I watch in my hands how much it looks like his as it falls straight down.

It's not about... well, it could be about something grounded and earthly like a fantasy of pulling hair, spirituality for him is not tainted by animal sex, the intimacy of being so close to a god that sees his hair as a sacred extension and manifestation of his power. I'm leading a biting, kicking, self-ruling and untamed stallion out to somewhere of my choosing; he's blindfolded, chained, restrained, following the forward pull on the reigns like he trusts me with the lives of him and his herd, like I'm the only thing in the world he'll bend to - except this is no animal but beast-knowing, beast-kin god old and scaled like a shark's teeth-filled mouth. Control, flow, understanding, motion. Reigns gripped, I barely need to pull, he follows.

It's not about grip though, not about actions, not about the amount of times our hoards of hands have -

The eroticism... Something so visceral and earth-moving doesn't just run through our relationship but has become it, we stand on the spherical gong struck, resonating, encompassing. We don't stand on it ready to strike, no, our relationship is the power of song so deep and so strong in it's vibration it shakes foundation itself. It's about the feeling of being entered, as it should be. When I look at my hair - even before I shaved my growing mustache, the curling ends that looked like the longed to be his, those too - the boundary between us has long been shattered and our relationship has long since passed faith.

Common is the theme of his presence in me being a literal, tangible feeling. I look at my hair, like his, and I can feel his resonance. I feel the way he's carved my body into cave tunnels and how his fish body bumps up against walls even when he tries so hard to stay unnoticed, or more so to stay not bothering me. Bored into walls, organs, when I see him in me it's visceral and lucid and literal. His face inside mine in the mirror, the way his black energy pulsates and moves like internal organs from a creature of the deepest night skies. His thoughts push through mine, not pushing mine out of the way but sliding into them, parting them. Possession with him is...

It's a metronome set to an ancient tempo and flow we both know, but pretend we don't to keep things fresh. One one side: Possession is the most subtle. It's dominant side glances at a formal party, a bedroom language code only we would know and pick up on. One the other side: The canine impulse to wag tails, to squeeze in on the lounge even when there's barely any room. He makes himself known and squeezes in - a dog knows how to be known, and that being known, being in the same pack - this is still downplaying it.

Cascading water. Waterfalls taller than mountains. Writhing sea currents that beg for volcanic warm. Old eyes so old they're one with mouths, craters of the Moon receiving meteoric offerings. Old temples built on old human minds which blur at every step the sexual and the creational, altars of phallic and yonic imagery not sanitised and symbolic but literal. Pregnancy as an offering to the Deep One, worshiping the source of his power as mirrored in us between our legs. He gave us sex, we dance with joined organs in the way that can only ever mimic the divine Water and Earth union. We worship with animal mouths, animal teeth, animal sex: Raw beasthood, understanding of the relationship between the body and the mind as the orgasmic source of creation.

Even that is a thought full of him. He lingers inside me endlessly, even after his possession is gone. He was thinking about beasthood earlier, now it drips from my mouth when I open it, slides out of my mind post-his-presence because I am full, drenched, like the ocean is with the Moon's pull. I talk his words, I formulate his thoughts, I can no longer be anything but part-him.

Hair in the shower... All that Lev's ever been is reflected in that. Whether it's pulling hair and biting necks beneath it, or the cosmic mathematical spirituality of spiritual texts detailing the stars tied in his locks, or the cold black of the Abyss manifested and worn as expressions of the Great Old Fish, or the personal, flesh-esque self extensions deep within writhing with thin tendrils which seek to fill and blur gaps between muscles, or the utterings of dominant DNA in offspring who strangely all get his black hair after he enters the lineage...

I don't have to say, actually, "One day I'll understand why I linger here." I know why I - I know why, full stop.

[pestcontrolperth]

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[nintendont2502]

God I feel like Life After Football would work so well for a Sburb focused lyricstuck - like focusing on the damage it caused (physically/emotionally)

Too bad I cannot focus on one project to save my life

I couldn't see a thing but I could hear destruction in the dark

Corrugated iron and timber rip and wrench my roof apart

As each tree fell, it felt like the earth was trying to catch its breath

Tunnels of wind whipped through the hills and kicked the forest half to death

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

Everything was already falling, it's just falling faster now

The power lines frantic like cut snakes in the wind that brought them down

My shady lane was torn to shreds, a mess of dirty, brown and green

I threw my bag over my head, headed where I said I'd try to be

Once in a lifetime you get days like these

There's sure been a lot of once in a lifetimes lately

You rescued me on the main road, up near the footy ground

Now I'm masked up and sanitised in a hotel in my hometown

The army established a post on Ballan-Daylesford Road

It was a couple days of hope, til I knew if I still had a home

My hide out deep among the trees, it had nearly flattened me

I still hear the wind whip through the clearing when I'm trying to fall asleep

The last few weeks the world felt fast what I'm learning to understand

If you tread water for so long, your feet feel unstable on land

Once in a lifetime you get days like these

There's sure been a lot of once in a lifetimes lately

Once in a lifetime you get days like these

There's sure been a lot of once in a lifetimes

Nobody thinks about life after football

Everyone swears they live in the future

I didn't know we were moving the goalposts

Much less tearing them down forever

Nobody thinks about life after football

Everyone swears they live in the future

I didn't know we were moving the goalposts

Much less tearing them down forever

You told us we were invincible

You showed us you didn't care

(Nobody thinks about life after football)

You told us we were invincible

You showed us you didn't care

(Nobody thinks about life after football)

Nobody thinks about life after football (You told us we were invincible)

Everyone swears they live in the future (You showed us you didn't care)

I didn't know we were moving the goalposts (You told us we were invincible)

Much less tearing them down forever

Forever

[deborahdeshoftim5779]

Proof that Palestinian terrorism and jihadist ideology are a threat to everyone, especially to the Jews.

It was because of the Palestinian lust for Jewish blood that they enthusiastically murdered Bedouins, Israeli Arabs, and Thai guest workers on October 7. As far as the Palestinians were concerned, anyone was fair game for murder in their quest to murder the Jews and steal their land.

The Thai guest workers who were kidnapped and later released testified to vicious beatings at the hands of Hamas terrorists, beatings that were only less severe because they were Thai. These Thais were undoubtedly starved and kept in tunnels or other restricted locations.

Those idiots who continue sanitising Palestinian crimes against humanity as 'resistance' should be forced to explain how they would react if guest workers from their own country had been among the dead and kidnapped of October 7.

They should explain why, if Israel is supposedly the "cause" of this conflict, the Palestinians yet again showed no compunction about slaughtering Israel's ethnic minorities, including Arabs and Bedouins (who are mostly Muslim).

This is not the first time that Palestinians have murdered Israeli ethnic minorities. Ethiopian Jewish soldier Avera Mengistu has been missing in Gaza for a decade now, after crossing into the Gaza Strip and being captured by Hamas. In 2014, Zidan Saif, an Israeli Druze officer, was shot in the head while trying to stop a Palestinian terror attack. He died of his wounds.

Palestinian terrorists are a threat to civilised people everywhere. Nobody who wants to continue living in a civilised country should be supporting these monsters.

May Sgt. Maj. Muhammad el-Atrash's memory be for a blessing.

Baruch Dayan HaEmet

This was 39 year old Sgt. Maj. Muhammad el-Atrash from the southern Bedouin community of Sa'wa who was killed and abducted by Hamas on October 7. He was a tracker in the Gaza Division's Northern Brigade.

The IDF determined his death.

May his memory be for a blessing

[treatresortib]

Luxury Resorts Near Mumbai For A Weekend Escape

Taking proper care and safety, a few short distance trips as part of a weekend getaway are possible even in these testing times.

New year is here. It is a new ray of hope. It is also a new dawn of possibilities. Last year was marked by such loss and grief, that being skeptical about this year is definitely true. Since the pandemic is not over yet, it is true. We can easily say that the fight is still on. Last year was different in so many ways. One major change was travel. From small distance travel to school and office, to a long distance journey, both had a major setback. Many holiday leaves of service class people went wasted without any new trip or vacation.

But now, there is yet another change in the calendar. Which means that there are another set of weekends and weekdays. A whole new set of leaves will be available to be used. After staying at home for so long due to social guidelines and lockdown rules, many might be longing for a break. Some might have already started venturing out. With the relaxation of travel rules and guidelines on social gathering, some small travel plans will become possible.

For the citizens of Mumbai, this is a welcome relief. Mumbai is surrounded by beautiful, scenic, natural and peaceful beaches and mountains. Many people love to travel to these weekend getaway near Mumbai locations. Since these places are easily accessible from Mumbai, Pune, Surat, Ahmedabad, etc, they are people's favourite. And since the travel time is less and the locations have nothing much to explore, they form the ideal opportunity for a short break on the weekend.

There are many weekend getaway spots around Mumbai. This is because Mumbai has ocean on one end and the western ghats on the other. Panchgani, Alibaug, Matheran, Lonavala, Khandala, Silvassa, Karjat, Gholvad, etc are all so beautiful. They are natural beauty scenic locations, lying in close proximity to the capital city of Maharashtra. The travel time to these locations ranges from two to five hours by road. And the road trip itself is the beginning of the vacation. This is because the roads traverse through mountains and valleys. Therefore, they have natural beauty and lovely weather all around. Plus, there is so much thrill passing through a bend, a narrow curve or a tunnel. Sometimes there are waterfalls too on the road side!

A holiday on the weekend is the need of the hour. Long distance travel is still risky, getting tickets is still cumbersome. And going to another state means stepping into an unknown surrounding and exposing oneself unnecessarily to the bad situation. Therefore, a weekend holiday checks the boxes. One box for a vacation and the other one for safety. A short trip can happen easily with an own car, or even with a rented one, albeit, which is well sanitised.

Everything said and done, safety should be the primary concern for travel during the pandemic situation. A short trip means less luggage, who mostly. But in any case, a few essentials should always be present in the packed items. A pair is masks, a pair of hand gloves and a bottle of sanitiser per person are a must. Then, face shield could also be used by some. Proper medications for cold and cough, thermometer to check temperature, and some vitamin C pills are also smart travel plans. Have a safe, happy, relaxing, scenic and rejuvenating trip.

[everythingshouldbereality]

SC asks Centre to challenge instructions on banning use of disinfection tunnels, fumigation on people Image Source : PTI SC asks Centre to challenge instructions on banning use of disinfection tunnels, fumigation on people…

[euroblastme01]

Chemical Sanitizers

Chemical sanitizers use chemicals to kill bacteria, viruses, fungi, mould, or mildew that are present on an object. Most products for cleaning, sanitising, and disinfecting are made up from the mix of chemicals. Sanitizing is done through chemical compounds that can kill bacteria that can cause disease. Iodine, chlorine (bleach), and quaternary ammonium are all common sanitizers. In the food service industry, chemical sanitizers are widely used.

[xerohourcheese]

For those not in the know, this was written to be the 'Back Up' sequel to the original Star Wars film if it made enough money to justify a sequel but not the full budget sequel that became Empire Strikes Back. It is very obviously studio based with lots of 'misty planet' and 'tunnel' sets.

The thing is, Alan Dean Foster was never told the 'spoilers' from Empire (No, I am your father), and Return (There is another Skywalker) thus creating the 'Brought To You By Folger's Coffee' novel that is Splinter Of The Mind's Eye.

NB I used to the original unedited version, but if you read the sanitised version, I bet most of you can spot where the Folger's Coffee bit was cut.

Star Wars: Splinter of the Mind's Eye by Alan Dean Foster

Rating: ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤

[awesometeennews]

Wipro leverages deep-tech startup Wesense.ai to launch product to tackle Covid-19

Wipro leverages deep-tech startup Wesense.ai to launch product to tackle Covid-19

[ad_1]

Wipro Infrastructure Engineering has leveraged Bengaluru-based deep-tech startup Wesense.ai to launch Clear Health, a product that ensures safety and protection from coronavirus.

WIN Automation, the company’s industrial automation wing, has introduced Clear Health, a device with a sensor to check body temperature, automatically dispense sanitizer, video camera for face recognition with…

[coralhawk]

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[furiousstarfishphilosopher]

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[srbachchan]

DAY 4966

Jalsa, Mumbai                 Sept 30/Oct 1,  2021               Thu/Fri 12:52 AM 

Birthday - EF Shubhi Jha Kansal ..  Bushra Ef Algeria .. October 1 .. all the wishes for our Ef and the love of care and protection .. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️  

.. traditional attire for the festive season of Navratri ..

... and the camouflage shoes for the fractured toe .. socks like wearing but indeed a shoe .. soft protection for the toe that has been damaged and broken .. but still the joi de vivre (?) spell check .. and more .. a rewarding journey to the end of times whatever they be ..

.. through the tunnel for the sanitiser .. and on to work  

.. the broken toe, fractured at the base and in the pain of excruciating .. the despondency of the space do never be put in plaster .. for there is no discovered method yet .. so a soft efficient job done known in common tongue as ‘buddy taping’ .. buddy, because the broken finger is given sympathy by the one next door , joined together in some unison and taped for 4-5 weeks ..

.. and on to the next avatar ..

.. ok dosing off , dropping the head on the screen .. so its GN

Amitabh Bachchan