#conveyance deed

[financeguys]

Understanding Conveyance Deed: What it is and Why it is Important

Intro

A conveyance deed is a legally binding agreement laying forth the ownership transfer's terms and circumstances. Information on the property being transferred, the individuals engaged in the transfer, and any terms or restrictions that may apply to the transfer are often included in the deed.

A conveyance deed is a legal document used to transfer ownership of a piece of property from one individual or entity to another person or entity. The person selling and buying the property must sign the conveyance deed for it to be considered a lawful transaction. It must be witnessed and notarized to verify that the deed is legally binding. When both parties have signed the conveyance deed, it is submitted for recording at the local land register office. After the transfer of ownership has been recorded, a new title deed will be issued in the new owner's name.

Why is a Conveyance Deed Important?

A conveyance deed is an essential legal document as proof of property ownership. When a property is transferred, the new owner needs to have a legally binding document that proves they are the rightful owner of the property. This is important for several reasons, including:

Legal Protection: A conveyance deed protects the new property owner. It establishes the new owner's legal rights to the property and can be used as evidence in court if there are any disputes or legal issues related to the ownership of the property.

Financing: A conveyance deed is required by most lenders when financing the purchase of a property. The lender will typically require a copy of the conveyance deed as part of the loan application process, as it proves that the borrower has legal ownership of the property.

Property Taxes: A conveyance deed is also essential for property tax purposes. When assessing property taxes, the local tax authorities will typically require a copy of the conveyance deed as proof of ownership. Once a property is transferred, the new owner becomes responsible for paying property taxes.

Resale Value: A conveyance deed is also essential when selling a property. A conveyance deed may make selling the property or obtaining its actual market value more accessible. Prospective buyers will want to see proof of ownership before agreeing to purchase the property.

What Information is Included in a Conveyance Deed?

A conveyance deed typically includes the following information:

Parties Involved: The names and addresses of the parties involved in the transfer of ownership, including the seller and the buyer.

Property Details: A description of the property being transferred, including the address, the size of the property, and any unique features or characteristics.

Purchase Price: The property's purchase price, as agreed upon by the buyer and the seller.

Payment Terms: The payment terms for the purchase of the property, including any down payment, financing terms, or other conditions of the sale.

Conditions and Restrictions: Any conditions or restrictions that apply to the transfer of ownership, such as easements, zoning regulations, or other legal restrictions.

Signatures and Witness Information: The buyer and the seller must sign the conveyance deed, and for it to be enforceable, all of these signatures must be witnessed and notarized.

Conclusion

A conveyance deed is required to transfer property ownership from one person or company to another. This may happen when one person or entity sells their property to another person or entity. It offers the new owner legal protection and acts as evidence that they are the rightful owners of the property. 

Typically, the conveyance deed contains information on the parties involved, the property being transferred, the purchase price, payment terms, conditions and restrictions, signatures, and information about witnesses and the property being transferred. 

Summary 

Before signing a conveyance deed, it is a good idea to see an attorney to ensure that all of the terms and conditions have been well understood and everyone agrees.

[jaswantkatariya]

RERA Agents or Firms: Panjab and haryana High Court Orders to charge Same Fee to Haryana Real Estate Regulatory Authority

Panjab and Haryana High Courts ordrers to charge same fee from the Real Estate Agents and Firms that is Rs. 25, 000/- to the Haryana Real Estate Regulatory Authority because the proprietary firms and the proprietor are the same persons. Haryana Real Estate Regulatory Firms was charging more fee for registration from the firms. Contact on Whats App

[amara69malik96]

Unveiling Deed of Conveyance Meaning: Understanding Property Transfers

Explore the meaning and significance of the deed of conveyance in property transfers. Our comprehensive guide provides insights into the legal aspects of property transactions. Learn about the importance and implications of the deed of conveyance. Dive into the world of property law with our detailed review.

[dearsociety01]

Deemed conveyance of Apartments

Encash the benefits of MOFA Act 11;

The deed of apartment is also known as the sale deed. The number of registered apartments in the state of Maharashtra is not known exactly but it is approximately 40 thousand. On numerous occasions, builders have registered deed of declaration and registered deed of apartment for some of the flat holders of the building, and the rest of the flat holders are kept without the registration of the deed of the apartment. Due to this Apartment holders cannot incorporate their names on the 7/12 or property card. In such cases, they have an option to do deemed conveyance according to MOFA section 11. As deemed conveyance is applicable to Co-operative housing societies similarly it is to the apartment holders. Two or more apartments can file a joint application.

This article is recommended for you: Apartment Vs. Co-operative Housing Society: Which is Really better?

Benefits of deemed conveyance

By doing deemed conveyance you become the owner of the land.

Apartment holders get benefits of increased FSI if any changes happen in the government policies.

The benefits can be reaped by building more by making TDR available.

Revenue can be generated by placing mobile towers and billboards on the building.

Redevelopment become easy 

Ownership of builders from the parking area and terrace is transferred to apartment holders. 

The builder cannot construct additional floors illegally.

The selling price increases. Property is considered indisputable. The flats were easy to sell.

[vivaciousoceans]

In 1771, New York passed the Act to Confirm Certain Conveyances and Directing the Manner of Proving Deeds to Be Recorded, legislation gave white women some say in what their husband did with their assets.

In 1774, Maryland passed a similar law. It required a private interview between a judge and a married white woman to confirm her approval of any trade or sale by her husband of her property.

In 1787, Massachusetts passed a law allowing married white women, in limited circumstances, to act as femme sole traders, allowing them to conduct business on their own when their husbands were away.

In 1839, a Mississippi law passed giving white women the right to own enslaved Africans, just as white men were.

These are just some of the laws that allowed white women to be able to participate in the enslavement of Africans. This idea that white women have been completely beholden to white men and their whims, since the United States of America has existed, is just disingenuous revisionist history. White women have always been complicit in not just upholding white supremacy, but participating willfully.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Settlement: Port Vahlgraun and the mystery of the Gutted Garrison

Couldn't have happened to a worse bunch of bastards, but still it happened, they’re dead, and that’s a problem for all of us.

- Urdrik, town elder

Sheltered where the jagged spur of a snowy mountain range meets the sea, this frontier settlement is one of the few places where vessels may dock and resupply before setting out to the deep ocean fisheries or returning to the hungry harbours of the homeland.

Provided they don’t mind uncultured neighbours or the pervading stink of tar and fish, Vaulgraun is just the place for an adventurer to make a name for themselves: supply caravans making treks through mountain passes in need of an escort, sailors from parts unknown showing up with unbelievable tales, nearby valleys filled with squabbling noble willing to shill out coin for other people to solve their problems. 

Hooks:

The Port’s governance is a rather slapdash affair as business rivalries intermarry with old family grudges, with most folk going about armed and expected to sort out their own problems. The party finds this out the hard way when they get into a bar brawl and end up humiliating the favorite nephew of a an influential local tough, who uses her connections to blacklist the party from a number of businesses and scare away their work. Their potential salvation introduces himself in the form of Barnard Glanner , a charismatic salt merchant who styles himself Vahlgraun’s first mayor... once he can convince the locals to hold their first election. In return for a steady wage he just needs the party to do some good deeds and spread his name around and he’s sure he’ll be able to sway public opinion, especially if they prevent some big disaster and throw him some of the credit.

Old Tallowear is given a wide birth by most Vahlgraun locals, a beachcomber who still hums the tune that a nest of sirens used to draw him and a ship full of his fellow sailors to wreck themselves upon a particularly dangerous stretch of coastline decades back. The fey-addled elder keeps finding excuses to visit those lethal rocks over the years, and has enough secondhand charm-magic to convince a series treasure hunters to employ him as a guide with promises of the fortunes waiting just below the tide. He’s not lying about the latter, and is even willing to sell the party some of his finds to bait the hook.

Everyone knows the local royal garrison for a bunch of brutes and bullies, shipped out to the ass end of nowhere as  blanket punishment for any number of offences, they take out their boredom and frustration on the nearby village and local hill-folk, confident that they’re too far from command to ever brook any real reprisal… which surprises everyone when they turn up dead one morning, massacred to a man with the front gate of their fort knocked from its hinges. The military is likely to think the town had something to do with it and come down on the town on a hammer once they find out… unless someone can find an explanation before they catch on. 

 Leads:

A young woman by the name of Ultia Vant has gone missing around the same time of the garrison's gutting,  a poor mulecart driver who brought supplies up to the garrison as part of the port’s royal tribute. Previously Ultia’s father was the one to made the run, but he’s been laid up for a year and a half from exhaustion.  Ultia’s cart is found looted somewhere off the road, the mule being picked apart by scavengers.

Speaking of suspiciously abandoned modes of conveyance, located in the fort’s courtyard is a very fine carriage rather unsuited to the mountianous slopes surrounding Vahlgraun. Asking around in town reveals it belongs to one of the noble families that’ve been recently purchasing lands on the outside of the mountain, the occupants having apparently stopped off in the port for a night before heading on to meet their grisly ends along with the soldiers. Just what were these agents of the gentry trying to accomplish?

Unfortunately the only witness to the slaughter the party ends up discovering happens to be a half-feral wraith they stumble across eating bodies in the forts cellar a day or two after the deaths are discovered. He speaks with a strange, archaic accent, can’t remember his name and seems quite disoriented, even for a dead man. 

The Answer: Ultia Vant was one of those people upon who’s shoulders the entire world rests, as essential in her work as she was unthanked. Without her to drag goods up the mountain the garrison would either start harassing the common people for “donations” or clear off all together, leaving the port and its vital mountain passes undefended. Her father was just as vital, until a bad stretch of weather meant the soldiers had to go hungry for a few days and they decided to beat him so badly that he couldn’t make the journey up the mountain anymore. They made Ultia watch, and swore they’d finish the job if she was ever late again. 

For a year and a half, week in, week out,  Ultia made the journey, enduring the garrison’s taunts and using every spare copper to pay for her father’s medicine. Then, oneday, her mule died, and she was left with a cart full of goods too heavy to pull herself. With no other option she loaded what goods she could on her back and started the climb herself.

The bone deep anger she felt called out to something, a spirit of violence and ruin in the shape of a horse that was quite coincidentally tired of its current husk of a rider. Tossing their mutual burdens to the roadside, the two rode up to the fort and slaughtered every living thing they could find, at which point they took off to complete whatever sinister errand the ruin-spirit asked in return for its gift of strength.

Check out my advice on how to plan and run mysteries HERE

[scotianostra]

On December 18th 1780 the Society of Antiquaries was founded.

The purpose of the Society is set out in the Royal Charter: “…to investigate both antiquities and natural and civil history in general, with the intention that the talents of mankind should be cultivated and that the study of natural and useful sciences should be promoted.

The original members began to donate material to the Society from its inception, and in 1781 it bought a property so that the donations it received could be properly deposited. The Antiquarian Society Hall appears on the Alexander Kincaid A Plan of the City and Suburbs of Edinburgh in 1784, located off the Cowgate and behind Parliament Close off the Royal Mile (then Lawnmarket). After several moves, the Society rented accommodation in the Institution for the Encouragement of the Fine Arts (later the Royal Institution) at the foot of The Mound in 1826 (now the Royal Scottish Academy). A detailed account of the history of the Museum was written by RBK Stevenson, former Keeper of the National Museum of Antiquities of Scotland and President of the Society, in The Scottish Antiquarian Tradition, edited by A S Bell and published to mark the bicentenary of the Society and its Museum in 1981

In 1841 there were over 4,000 visitors, including the Queen and Prince Albert, to the Society Museum to view the thousands of objects collected over the previous 60 years. By 1850 free admission to this collection was attracting 17,000 visitors per year, which led in turn to the accelerated expansion of the collection as donations flowed in, and to the publication of a 150 page catalogue.

In November 1851 the signing of a Deed of Conveyance with the Board of Manufactures on behalf of Parliament made the Society collections National Property in return for fit and proper accommodation at all times, for the preservation and exhibition of the collection, and also for the Society’s meetings, free of all expense to them. By this time the collections were housed in 24 George Street, they then moved back to the mound before sharing The National Portrait Gallery for a time.

In 1861 construction of the Industrial Museum of Scotland began, with Prince Albert laying the foundation stone. In 1866, renamed the Edinburgh Museum of Science and Art, the eastern end and the Grand Gallery were opened by Prince Alfred. In 1888 the building was finished and in 1904 the institution was renamed the Royal Scottish Museum.

There have been many extensions to the building over the years to accommodate the growing collections, the latest was finished in 2011, giving us the splendid new building adjoined to the old one, they also opened up the basement as a shop and cafeteria, the Society still functions today. the museum is one of the most popular tourist attractions in Scotland and in 2019 approximately 2.2 million visitors passed through it’s doors, the way things are going it will be a while before we see anything like these numbers again

Lots more on their web page here https://www.socantscot.org/about-us/our-history/

[play-now-my-lord]

call me crazy but i believe all motorcycles have the souls of horses that committed evil deeds in life imprisoned in their geometry. Being a conveyance even in death is their penance for the wickedness they did while they strode the earth

[monstersinthecosmos]

September 17, 1973

Even with so much to do, Daniel sleeps in.

Sleeps long.

Wakes up in the unfamiliar room, the way he’s woken up in unfamiliar rooms every day since he left, and doesn’t panic. And there’s no real clues in here—it’s a drab, generic room like any other—with no local flare, and there isn’t some postcard experience like jazz and the smell of chicory floating in from the windows, but he knows he’s made it. 

The air conditioner buzzes and he rolls onto his side to face the window. Maybe he can watch the sunrise tomorrow, if he remembers. Maybe his days are numbered, if Lestat accepts him.

Relaxing now that he’s so close. It’s like a clarity over him, like he knows it’s too late to go back. Calmly staring ahead to his fate. Feeling rested, finally.

A tidy list forms in his head

- shower

- get dressed

- breakfast (lunch?)

- mail the manuscript

- find lestat’s?

It goes quickly enough, once he’s up. And he’s somewhat himself again, at least able to put the mask on, to act like a person. Friendly with the kid at the front desk as he asks for directions to the nearest post office, and friendly with the waiter when he gets lunch so that he can ask some questions about the Garden District. Her face is framed bouncy Farah Fawcett hair and Daniel knows if this were back in San Francisco he’d try to take her home.

And then he’s driving in loops around the neighborhood, with the map open on the passenger seat and his notes in his hand over the steering wheel. He writes down all the addresses that could be potentials, checking for Louis’s description, deciding if they look abandoned. He writes them down and circles back, twice, three times, making sure he’s got the numbers right before he heads to the conveyance office to look up land deeds.

Friendly with this woman, too, enough that he gets a smile from her despite how dour she’d been when he walked in.

Going through all the papers takes a few hours, but the impatience doesn’t creep in. No, it’s relaxing, actually. Having a task to focus on, having a goal, looking for something specific. It feels good, even in the ambiance of State-Funded-Office. All fluorescent lights and stale coffee, and the legs are uneven on his chair so that he keeps rocking, so that it keeps clicking against the floor, and a squeaking metal fan instead of air conditioning, and someone watching the local news too loud in the next room.

Feels nice. Feels real.

He ashes his cigarette into his empty Coke can as he flips through each box, looking for the addresses on the list. Pulling them out, one and a time, scanning for a current owner, and back back back. Unsure if it will be under an alias, not really sure what he’s looking for. 

It even occurs to him, an hour in, that it’s all a lie.

The neck wound throbs at the thought. 

Because, really. A clever person could write off all of his proof. The wound could be anything. And what he saw? With his own eyes? No witnesses except what the audio picked up. And he’d been drinking. 

But he finally sees the name. 

Lestat de Lioncourt. 

His whole body runs cold. He stares long enough that his cigarette burns all the way down and he spills the ashes onto the table top.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and scrambles to clean it up, the best he can. He stares at the page again. Is he charming enough to get the grumpy woman at the desk to Xerox it for him? Maybe if he asks before she realizes he got ashes everywhere.

He stares, though. Keeps staring, until his periphery is warping, until he feels the name burning into the inside of his head. Carving itself there. 

“I found you,” he whispers. 

[previous day] | [next day]

[iluvjesus666]

fuck it. chuck palahniuk's "guts" in pretty rainbow gradient

Inhale.

Take in as much air as you can.

This story should last about as long as you can hold your breath, and then just a little bit longer. So read as fast as you can.

A friend of mine, when he was thirteen years old he heard about "pegging." This is when a guy gets banged up the butt with a dildo. Stimulate the prostate gland hard enough, and the rumor is you can have explosive hands-free orgasms. At that age, this friend's a little sex maniac. He's always jonesing for a better way to get his rocks off. He goes out to buy a carrot and some petroleum jelly. To conduct a little private research. Then he pictures how it's going to look at the supermarket checkstand, the lonely carrot and petroleum jelly rolling down the conveyer belt toward the grocery store cashier. All the shoppers waiting in line, watching. Everyone seeing the big evening he has planned.

So, my friend, he buys milk and eggs and sugar and a carrot, all the ingredients for a carrot cake. And Vaseline.

Like he's going home to stick a carrot cake up his butt.

At home, he whittles the carrot into a blunt tool. He slathers it with grease and grinds his ass down on it. Then, nothing. No orgasm. Nothing happens except it hurts.

Then, this kid, his mom yells it's “suppertime”. She says to come down, right now.

He works the carrot out and stashes the slippery, filthy thing in the dirty clothes under his bed.

After dinner, he goes to find the carrot and it's gone. All his dirty clothes, while he ate dinner, his mom grabbed them all to do laundry. No way could she not find the carrot, carefully shaped with a paring knife from her kitchen, still shiny with lube and stinky.

This friend of mine, he waits months under a black cloud, waiting for his folks to confront him. And they never do. Ever. Even now he's grown up, that invisible carrot hangs over every Christmas dinner, every birthday party. Every Easter egg hunt with his kids, his parents' grandkids, that ghost carrot is hovering over all of them.

That something too awful to name.

People in France have a phrase: "Spirit of the Stairway." In French: Esprit de l'escalier. It means that moment when you find the answer, but it's too late. Say you're at a party and someone insults you. You have to say something. So under pressure, with everybody watching, you say something lame. But the moment you leave the party…

As you start down the stairway, then — magic. You come up with the perfect thing you should've said. The perfect crippling put-down.

That's the Spirit of the Stairway.

The trouble is even the French don't have a phrase for the stupid things you actually do say under pressure. Those stupid, desperate things you actually think or do.

Some deeds are too low to even get a name. Too low to even get talked about.

Looking back, kid-psych experts, school counselors now say that most of the last peak in teen suicide was kids trying to choke while they beat off. Their folks would find them, a towel twisted around the kid's neck, the towel tied to the rod in their bedroom closet, the kid dead. Dead sperm everywhere. Of course the folks cleaned up. They put some pants on their kid. They made it look… better. Intentional at least. The regular kind of sad, teen suicide.

Another friend of mine, a kid from school, his older brother in the Navy said how guys in the Middle East jack off different than we do here. This brother was stationed in some camel country where the public market sells what could be fancy letter openers. Each fancy tool is just a thin rod of polished brass or silver, maybe as long as your hand, with a big tip at one end, either a big metal ball or the kind of fancy carved handle you'd see on a sword. This Navy brother says how Arab guys get their dick hard and then insert this metal rod inside the whole length of their boner. They jack off with the rod inside, and it makes getting off so much better. More intense.

It's this big brother who travels around the world, sending back French phrases. Russian phrases. Helpful jack-off tips.

After this, the little brother, one day he doesn't show up at school. That night, he calls to ask if I'll pick up his homework for the next couple weeks. Because he's in the hospital.

He's got to share a room with old people getting their guts worked on. He says how they all have to share the same television. All he's got for privacy is a curtain. His folks don't come and visit. On the phone, he says how right now his folks could just kill his big brother in the Navy.

On the phone, the kid says how, the day before, he was just a little stoned. At home in his bedroom, he was flopped on the bed. He was lighting a candle and flipping through some old porno magazines, getting ready to beat off. This is after he's heard from his Navy brother. That helpful hint about how Arabs beat off. The kid looks around for something that might do the job. A ball-point pen's too big. A pencil's too big and rough. But dripped down the side of the candle, there's a thin, smooth ridge of wax that just might work. With just the tip of one finger, this kid snaps the long ridge of wax off the candle. He rolls it smooth between the palms of his hands. Long and smooth and thin.

Stoned and horny, he slips it down inside, deeper and deeper into the piss slit of his boner. With a good hank of the wax still poking out the top, he gets to work.

Even now, he says those Arab guys are pretty damn smart. They've totally re-invented jacking off. Flat on his back in bed, things are getting so good, this kid can't keep track of the wax. He's one good squeeze from shooting his wad when the wax isn't sticking out anymore.

The thin wax rod, it's slipped inside. All the way inside. So deep inside he can't even feel the lump of it inside his piss tube.

From downstairs, his mom shouts it's suppertime. She says to come down, right now. This wax kid and the carrot kid are different people, but we all live pretty much the same life.

It's after dinner when the kid's guts start to hurt. It's wax so he figured it would just melt inside him and he'd pee it out. Now his back hurts. His kidneys. He can't stand straight.

This kid talking on the phone from his hospital bed, in the background you can hear bells ding, people screaming. Game shows.

The X-rays show the truth, something long and thin, bent double inside his bladder. This long, thin V inside him, it's collecting all the minerals in his piss. It's getting bigger and more rough, coated with crystals of calcium, it's bumping around, ripping up the soft lining of his bladder, blocking his piss from getting out. His kidneys are backed up. What little that leaks out his dick is red with blood.

This kid and his folks, his whole family, them looking at the black X-ray with the doctor and the nurses standing there, the big V of wax glowing white for everybody to see, he has to tell the truth. The way Arabs get off. What his big brother wrote him from the Navy.

On the phone, right now, he starts to cry.

They paid for the bladder operation with his college fund. One stupid mistake, and now he'll never be a lawyer.

Sticking stuff inside yourself. Sticking yourself inside stuff. A candle in your dick or your head in a noose, we knew it was going to be big trouble.

What got me in trouble, I called it “Pearl Diving”. This meant whacking off underwater, sitting on the bottom at the deep end of my parents' swimming pool. With one deep breath, I'd kick my way to the bottom and slip off my swim trucks. I'd sit down there for two, three, four minutes.

Just from jacking off, I had huge lung capacity. If I had the house to myself, I'd do this all afternoon. After I'd finally pump out my stuff, my sperm, it would hang there in big, fat, milky gobs.

After that was more diving, to catch it all. To collect it and wipe each handful in a towel. That's why it was called Pearl Diving. Even with chlorine, there was my sister to worry about. Or, Christ almighty, my Mom.

That used to be my worst fear in the world: my teenage virgin sister, thinking she's just getting fat, then giving birth to a two-headed retard baby. Both heads looking just like me. Me, the father and the uncle.

In the end, it's never what you worry about that gets you.

The best part of Pearl Diving was the inlet port for the swimming pool filter and the circulation pump. The best part was getting naked and sitting on it.

As the French would say: “Who doesn't like getting their butt sucked?”

Still, one minute you're just a kid getting off, and the next minute you'll never be a lawyer.

One minute, I'm settling on the pool bottom, and the sky is wavy, light blue through eight feet of water above my head. The world is silent except for the heartbeat in my ears. My yellow-striped swim trunks are looped around my neck for safe keeping, just in case a friend, a neighbor, anybody shows up to ask why I skipped football practice. The steady suck of the pool inlet hole is lapping at me and I'm grinding my skinny white ass around on that feeling.

One minute, I've got enough air, and my dick's in my hand. My folks are gone at their work and my sister's got ballet. Nobody's supposed to be home for hours.

My hand brings me right to getting off, and I stop. I swim up to catch another big breath. I dive down and settle on the bottom.

I do this again and again.

This must be why girls want to sit on your face. The suction is like taking a dump that never ends. My dick hard and getting my butt eaten out, I do not need air. My heartbeat in my ears, I stay under until bright stars of light start worming around in my eyes. My legs straight out, the back of each knee rubbed raw against the concrete bottom. My toes are turning blue, my toes and fingers wrinkled from being so long in the water.

And then I let it happen. The big white gobs start spouting. The pearls.

It's then I need some air. But when I go to kick off against the bottom, I can't. I can't get my feet under me. My ass is stuck.

Emergency paramedics will tell you that every year about 150 people get stuck this way, sucked by a circulation pump. Get your long hair caught, or your ass, and you're going to drown. Every

year, tons of people do. Most of them in Florida.

People just don't talk about it. Not even French people talk about everything.

Getting one knee up, getting one foot tucked under me, I get to half standing when I feel the tug against my butt. Getting my other foot under me, I kick off against the bottom. I'm kicking free, not touching the concrete, but not getting to the air, either.

Still kicking water, thrashing with both arms, I'm maybe halfway to the surface but not going higher. The heartbeat inside my head getting loud and fast.

The bright sparks of light crossing and criss-crossing my eyes, I turn and look back… but it doesn't make sense. This thick rope, some kind of snake, blue-white and braided with veins has come up out of the pool drain and it's holding onto my butt. Some of the veins are leaking blood, red blood that looks black underwater and drifts away from little rips in the pale skin of the snake. The blood trails away, disappearing in the water, and inside the snake's thin, blue-white skin you can see lumps of some half-digested meal.

That's the only way this makes sense. Some horrible sea monster, a sea serpent, something that's never seen the light of day, it's been hiding in the dark bottom of the pool drain, waiting to eat me.

So… I kick at it, at the slippery, rubbery knotted skin and veins of it, and more of it seems to pull out of the pool drain. It's maybe as long as my leg now, but still holding tight around my butthole. With another kick, I'm an inch closer to getting another breath. Still feeling the snake tug at my ass, I'm an inch closer to my escape.

Knotted inside the snake, you can see corn and peanuts. You can see a long bright-orange ball. It's the kind of horse-pill vitamin my Dad makes me take, to help put on weight. To get a football scholarship. With extra iron and omega-three fatty acids.

It's seeing that vitamin pill that saves my life.

It's not a snake. It's my large intestine, my colon pulled out of me. What doctors call, prolapsed. It's my guts sucked into the drain.

Paramedics will tell you a swimming pool pump pulls 80 gallons of water every minute. That's about 400 pounds of pressure. The big problem is we're all connected together inside. Your ass is just the far end of your mouth. If I let go, the pump keeps working - unraveling my insides, until it's got my tongue. Imagine taking a 400-pound shit, and you can see how this might turn you inside out.

What I can tell you is your guts don't feel much pain. Not the way your skin feels pain. The stuff you're digesting, doctor's call it fecal matter. Higher up is chyme, pockets of a thin runny mess studded with corn and peanuts and round green peas.

That's all this soup of blood and corn, shit and sperm and peanuts floating around me. Even with my guts unraveling out my ass, me holding onto what's left, even then my first want is to somehow get my swimsuit back on.

God forbid my folks see my dick.

My one hand holding a fist around my ass, my other hand snags my yellow-striped swim trunks and pulls them from around my neck. Still, getting into them is impossible.

You want to feel your intestines, go buy a pack of those lamb-skin condoms. Take one out and unroll it. Pack it with peanut butter. Smear it with petroleum jelly and hold it under water. Then, try to tear it. Try to pull it in half. It's too tough and rubbery. It's so slimy you can't hold on.

A lamb-skin condom, that's just plain old intestine.

You can see what I'm up against.

You let go for a second, and you're gutted.

You swim for the surface, for a breath, and you're gutted.

You don't swim, and you drown.

It's a choice between being dead right now or a minute from right now.

What my folks will find after work is a big naked fetus, curled in on itself. Floating in the cloudy water of their backyard pool. Tethered to the bottom by a thick rope of veins and twisted guts. The opposite of a kid hanging himself to death while he jacks off. This is the baby they brought home from the hospital thirteen years ago. Here's the kid they hoped would snag a football scholarship and get an MBA. Who'd care for them in their old age. Here's all their hopes and dreams. Floating here, naked and dead. All around him, big milky pearls of wasted sperm.

Either that or my folks will find me wrapped in a bloody towel, collapsed halfway from the pool to the kitchen telephone, the ragged, torn scrap of my guts still hanging out the leg of my yellow-striped swim trunks.

What even the French won't talk about.

That big brother in the Navy, he taught us one other good phrase. A Russian phrase. The way we say: "I need that like I need a hole in my head…" Russian people say: "I need that like I need teeth in my asshole…"

Mne eto nado kak zuby v zadnitse

Those stories about how animals caught in a trap will chew off their leg, well, any coyote would tell you a couple bites beats the hell out of being dead.

Hell… even if you're Russian, some day you just might want those teeth.

Otherwise, what you have to do is, you have to twist around. You hook one elbow behind your knee and pull that leg up into your face. You bite and snap at your own ass. You run out of air, and you will chew through anything to get that next breath.

It's not something you want to tell a girl on the first date. Not if you expect a kiss good night.

If I told you how it tasted, you would never, ever again eat calamari.

It's hard to say what my parents were more disgusted by: how I'd got in trouble or how I'd saved myself. After the hospital, my Mom said, "You didn't know what you were doing, honey. You were in shock." And she learned how to cook poached eggs.

All those people grossed out or feeling sorry for me…

I need that like I need teeth in my asshole.

Nowadays, people always tell me I look too skinny. People at dinner parties get all quiet and pissed off when I don't eat the pot roast they cooked. Pot roast kills me. Baked ham. Anything that hangs around inside my guts for longer than a couple hours, it comes out still food. Home-cooked lima beans or chunk light tuna fish, I'll stand up and find it still sitting there in the toilet.

After you have a radical bowel resectioning, you don't digest meat so great. Most people, you have five feet of large intestine. I'm lucky to have my six inches. So I never got a football scholarship. Never got an MBA. Both my friends, the wax kid and the carrot kid, they grew up, got big, but I've never weighed a pound more than I did that day when I was thirteen.

Another big problem was my folks paid a lot of good money for that swimming pool. In the end my Dad just told the pool guy it was a dog. The family dog fell in and drowned. The dead body got pulled into the pump. Even when the pool guy cracked open the filter casing and fished out a rubbery tube, a watery hank of intestine with a big orange vitamin pill still inside, even then, my Dad just said, "That dog was fucking nuts."

Even from my upstairs bedroom window, you could hear my Dad say, "We couldn't trust that dog alone for a second…"

Then my sister missed her period.

Even after they changed the pool water, after they sold the house and we moved to another state, after my sister's abortion, even then my folks never mentioned it again.

Ever.

That is our invisible carrot.

You. Now you can take a good, deep breath.

I still have not.

[new-employeeamillion]

How do you plan your reviews?

What are the shows you pick, and how do you watch them

I’ve been doing reviews so long that it’s become this big factory conveyer belt with Powerhouse playing in the background. I’m watching Show A while researching Show B, writing up the script for Show C and editing the video for Show D. Having all the steps laid out for me at all times makes it way easier to plan things out. There’s issues with this system, like potentially not paying full attention to Show A, which can trip me up when it becomes Show C, but overall I find it to be straightforward and economic.

For the first couple years, I used a roulette wheel to decide what to watch next. That’s why some review subjects are popular while others are more obscure. But for the past 2, I’ve used dedicated roulette wheels for each major network (Nick, CN and Disney) and one for miscellaneous productions, so I don’t get 4 NickToons in a row or go nearly a year without covering any Disney shows. As for which shows I choose for the wheels, it entirely depends on what interests me. There are high profile classics that I’ve never considered reviewing, but on the other hand, there’s also random forgotten junk I want to give attention to for the heck of it.

As for my method of seeking them out, if they aren’t on streaming services (which are harder to subscribe to in my region than you’d think), I have to do the dirty deed of digging through torrents. Even if it’s for a forgotten show no streaming service would pay for, I feel a bit guilty that I can only pay the show’s staff in exposure, but that’s the way things are.

[jaswantkatariya]

Maintenance Petition after getting lump sum payment by way of alimony

Maintenance Petition after getting lump sum payment by way of alimony

The Punjab and Haryana High Court has observed that a wife can file a plea for maintenance under Section 125 of the CrPC, notwithstanding the fact that she already received a lump sum payment by way of alimony from her husband. The case involved a couple who got married in 1983. After a matrimonial dispute between the two, they started living separately in 1993. By way of a written compromise…

[loanandfinance]

Understanding Conveyance Deed: Meaning, Types, and Importance

Learn what a conveyance deed is, why it’s essential in property transactions, and explore its various types, from sale deeds to gift deeds. Get insights on how each type protects ownership rights in real estate.

[shaykhpodpics]

Upholding Old Ties -

After the death of the wife of the Holy Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, Khadija, may Allah be pleased with her, the Holy Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, maintained ties with her family and friends. For example, he would often present them food and gifts. This has been mentioned in a Hadith found in Sahih Bukhari, number 3818.

The Companions of the Holy Prophet Muhammad, may Allah be pleased with them, were the best group ever created after the Holy Prophets, peace be upon them. The fact they physically observed the Holy Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, during his lifetime is definitely one factor. But anyone who knows about their life and their righteous deeds understands that their superiority is due to more than just this unique and great deed.

One of the main reasons for their superiority is shown in a Hadith involving the Companion Abdullah Bin Umar, may Allah be pleased with him, which is found in Sahih Muslim, number 6515. Ibn Umar, may Allah be pleased with him, was once riding on his conveyance in the desert when he came across a Bedouin. Ibn Umar, may Allah be pleased with him, greeted the Bedouin, placed his turban on the Bedouin’s head and insisted that the Bedouin ride on his conveyance. Ibn Umar, may Allah be pleased with him, was told that the greeting he gave the Bedouin was more than enough as the Bedouin would have been greatly pleased at the fact that the great Companion of the Holy Prophet Muhammad, may Allah be pleased with him, greeted him. Yet, Ibn Umar, may Allah be pleased with him, went much further than this and showed the Bedouin great respect. Ibn Umar, may Allah be pleased with him, replied that he only did this because the Holy Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him, once advised that one of the best ways a person can honour their parent is by showing love and respect to their parent's relatives and friends. Ibn Umar, may Allah be pleased with him, added that the Bedouin’s father was a friend of his father the Commander of the Faithful, Umar Bin Khataab, may Allah be pleased with him.

This incident indicates the superiority of the Companions, may Allah be pleased with them. They completely submitted to the teachings of Islam. They not only fulfilled the obligatory duties and avoided all sins but completely fulfilled all acts which were recommended to them to the highest possible degree. Their submission caused them to put aside their own desires and only act to please Allah, the Exalted. Ibn Umar, may Allah be pleased with him, could have easily ignored the Bedouin as none of the actions he done were obligatory yet, unlike many Muslims who would use this excuse, he completely submitted to the teachings of Islam and acted the way he did.

It is the lack of submission to the teachings of Islam which has weakened the faith of Muslims. Some only fulfil the obligatory duties and turn away from other righteous deeds, such as voluntary charity, which contradict their desires by claiming the actions are not obligatory. All Muslims desire to end up with the Holy Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, and his Companions, may Allah be pleased with them, in the hereafter. But how is this possible if they do not follow their path or way? If a Muslim follows a path other than theirs then how can they end up with them? To end up with them one must follow their path. But this is only possible if one completely submits to the teachings of Islam like they did instead of cherry picking the deeds which suit their desires.

Life of the Prophet Muhammad (SAW) Complete Free eBook & Backup Link:

Over 400 Free eBooks: https://shaykhpod.com/books/ Backup Sites for eBooks: https://shaykhpodbooks.wordpress.com/books/

PDFs of All English Books & Backup Links/ تمام کتابیں / সব বই / جميع الكتب/ Semua Buku / Todos Los Libros:

[clarkelawpa]

Florida Lady Bird Deed

Highlights:

-A Florida lady bird deed is an easy and cheap way of passing property to your heir while avoiding probate.

-The lady bird deed gives the homeowner a life estate in their property and names their heir to succeed them as owner.

-The lady bird deed is also known as an enhanced life estate deed because the life tenant retains the ability to sell or mortgage the property.  

 Definition of a Florida Lady Bird Deed

A lady bird deed conveys a property that someone owns outright to the same person as life tenant, then to his heirs upon his death.   The transfer of property interests takes place before the life tenant’s death, so there is no need for a probate after his death.

An owner who becomes a life tenant under a lady bird deed retains control over his property.  If the property is his homestead, it will retain the Florida homestead protection against creditors after the deed is recorded.  

A lady bird deed is much more flexible than a life estate deed.  An ordinary life tenant only retains the right to live in the property (he can not sell or mortgage it without the consent of his heirs).  An enhanced life tenant under a lady bird deed, however, retains control over his property.  He can mortgage or sell the property without the consent of his heirs. 

The  interests of the heirs (remaindermen) who inherit under a lady bird deed vest when the life tenant dies.  This means that the heris’ creditors can not place a lien against their interests in the property until they actually become owners.

Florida common law principles of life estates and property conveyance support the use of a lady bird deed.

Drafting and Recording a Lady Bird Deed

A valid Florida Lady Bird Deed must meet certain requirements to be effective:

Parties: The deed must clearly identify the grantor (the homeowner transferring the property), the life tenant (usually the same as the grantor), and the remaindermen (those who will inherit the property).

Legal Description: The deed must contain the precise legal description of the property, which can be found in the original deed or title documents.

Execution: The deed must be signed by the grantor in the presence of two witnesses and a notary.

Recording: After being properly executed, the deed must be recorded in the county public records where the property is located.

Many Florida attorneys charge between $350 and $450 to draft and record a Lady Bird Deed, making it an affordable estate planning tool.

Advantages of a Lady Bird Deed

Avoids Probate: The most significant benefit of a Lady Bird Deed is that it avoids the need for probate, allowing the property to transfer directly to heirs without court involvement. 

Low Cost: Compared to setting up a living trust or going through probate, the cost of creating and recording a Lady Bird Deed is minimal.  

Retains Flexibility: The homeowner can change their estate plan at any time by selling, mortgaging, or re-deeding the property without the consent of the remaindermen.

Protects Assets from Medicaid Recovery: If the deed is executed before applying for Medicaid, the property can be shielded from Medicaid estate recovery, preserving it for heirs.

No Gift Tax: The transfer does not trigger any immediate gift tax liability, as the homeowner retains full control over the property during their lifetime.  

Asset Protection: a lady bird deed protects the property from the creditors of the heirs until they inherit it.

 Disadvantages of a Lady Bird Deed

1. May Not Be Suitable for Multiple Heirs: If the property is being passed to several heirs, a Lady Bird Deed can lead to conflicts and complicate future decisions about the property.

 2. No Contingent Beneficiaries: The deed is not designed for use in situations where a series of contingent beneficiaries is desired (for example, leaving property first to a spouse and then to children if the spouse dies first).  In that situation, you should use a trust instead.

3.     Objections from Mortgage and Title Companies (Rare):   As stated above, lady bird deeds have been recognized as valid by Florida courts.  However, sometimes title companies and mortgage lenders who have not previously dealt with a lady bird deed have questions as to their validity.

 Examples of a Lady Bird Deed in Estate Planning

Example 1: Protecting the Family Home for a Surviving Child Sarah, an elderly widow, owns her home in Florida. She wants to ensure that her only daughter, Lisa, inherits the house without having to go through probate. Sarah executes a lady bird deed that transfers the home to herself as a life tenant and names Lisa as the heir. Sarah lives in the house the rest of her life. Upon Sarah's death, the home automatically passes to Lisa, avoiding probate.

Example 2: Preserving a Vacation Property from Medicaid Recovery John owns a vacation home in Florida that he wants to leave to his two adult sons. John is concerned about needing long-term care through Medicaid and Medicaid then taking his property as reimbursement  after he dies. John creates a Lady Bird Deed naming himself as life tenant and his sons as heirs. This allows him to retain control over the property during his lifetime while ensuring it passes to his sons directly upon his death, without being subject to Medicaid recovery.

 In summary, a Florida lady bird deed is a convenient estate planning tool where you convey your property to your heir before you die to avoid probate.

Call Florida Estate Planning Attorney John Clarke at (954)556-8952 to schedule an estate planning consultation today!