#formation e-marketing

[omnischool]

[prosegalaxy]

The haunting whisper of an ancient past, A spirit born from shadows cast. In shadows of the moonlit night, A talent hidden from mortal sight. In distant lands and distant time, The echoes of a long-forgotten rhyme. A gift unveiled in eerie grace, Of weaving words, of haunting space. The whispers grow, they fill the air, As secrets of the past become clear. An ability revealed, so rare, In tapestry of history, they weave a tale so grand and rare.

[kachmedcom]

Supports de formation complets et conformes aux référentiels RNCP et RS

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[digitechmediaa-blog]

Delve into Twitter's exploration of new monetization models and its efforts to enhance its advertising platform, uncovering strategies for increased revenue and a sustainable future.

[argentsurleweb]

Pourquoi créer un tunnel de vente avec Learnybox

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[merciecommerce]

Créez Votre Avenir Commercial avec Formation E-Commerce Lyon!

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[jazzisthebestformofmusic]

Hey good evening

been a follower for 13 years now and going through my blog going through nostalgia . i was about to mass download your archive then i realized you had nsfw works as well deleted. if there's any chance you happen to have the full archive of your works i will be grateful

ill pay for reasonable price lol

I never collected rips of NSFW for anything past comedic effect, a lot of it is a deep dive into underpaid employee/mandated market fetishes. What you don't want to do is go to a something 'e' something 'hentai' .org all the while not using a group tag to reference the individual game companies that have the released ""game"" you're interested in. No matter how bad the quality of the game is those types of archivists will catalogue an entire game for a 10x10p tit.

Quality and availability is mixed. It's easy to identify an automated format rip (bit errors -> wrong palette) or 50% compressed jpg. Normal browsing etiquette and I haven't given my computer anthrax while saving autistic fueled searching of defunct Japanese websites. Without emulation and sourcing it's probably the most complete way I remember for the eroge parts of the eroge.

[rinixo]

cherry waves

Din Djarin/Reader | 3.1k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, sex pollen trope, description of illness, vaginal fingering, first time

In hindsight, that caf did taste a little off.

--

Non-linear oneshots featuring you, a university scholar from Naboo who is helping The Mandalorian seek out the Jedi.

read on ao3

The quiet murmur of the crowds were faint in the back of your mind as you sat underneath the shade near a small food stand. In front of you on the table were various datapads, and as you sipped on your caf your eyes darted from one to another, analyzing the information.

Off in the distance, The Mandalorian entertained the child by walking him past the various shops and stands. The baby had been distracting you from your current task, so the metal man had graciously pulled him away to ply his attention with shiny baubles and roasted skewers.

The market you were on wasn’t particularly large or well known, but it suited your needs well enough. The three of you needed to stretch your legs and breathe non-recycled air after a couple of weeks being cooped up in the Crest. Being able to stock up on some basic necessities was a plus, especially in a place where you were unlikely to be noticed or tracked by the various bounty hunters and imperial remnants out to find you.

However, supplies and fresh air were only second on your list of priorities. What you really needed, and what eventually led to you sitting there surrounded by datapads was a reliable Holonet connection.

A few days ago, you had approached Mando about your current progress on tracking down information on the Jedi Order. You had stockpiled terabytes of records and information prior to fleeing Naboo, which had been helpful, but could only get you so far.

“I need to cross-reference the variables against the network in order to extrapolate the most relevant data points and establish the locations with the highest likelihood of success,” you had explained. Mando had turned slightly in his seat, and you guessed that under that helmet he was frowning.

Smiling apologetically, you tapped your nails against the side of your datapad. You had the tendency to get too technical when it came to your passion. “I need a stable connection to the Holonet so I can plug in the info we know about the Jedi against recent mentions or sightings so I can narrow down where we should be looking.”

That seemed to make sense, so a few days later there you were, hooked up to the Holonet on some planet you had already forgotten the name of. For the past hour, you had been running the data, searching for info points on your keywords – ‘Jedi’, ‘laser sword’, ‘space magic’, etc – hoping to find something that would get you closer to your goal.

A while later, your search had yielded a half dozen promising leads. Pleased, you shut off your data pads and began to pack up your items up as Mando waltzed back over.

“Any luck?” He asked, and you nodded as you stood.

“Actually, yes. I found some relatively recent data that I think is worth investigating.” The two of you (and the baby, tucked away in his pouch at Mando’s side) began your short journey back to where the Razor Crest was docked while you continued to speak. “The New Republic has removed most of the Imperial censors on the ‘net, but a lot of the data on the Jedi has just been purged completely. It’s not so much that the information is censored at this point – rather, the information just doesn’t exist anymore. At least not in a format I can access.”

“But you found something?” Mando asked, and you detected a tinge of hope in the timbre of his voice.

Reaching into your pack, you pulled out one of your data pads and pulled up some coordinates. “Yes, several locations that have mention of information or remnants of Jedi history, and in some cases alleged sightings of actual Jedi.” Mando took the pad from you as you approached the Crest, climbing the ramp into the belly of the ship. “One of those places is just one jump away, actually.”

Mando handed the pad back to you, and began to head towards the cockpit. “Good job. We’ll start there.”

You set your things down among the recently re-stocked supply crates, hoping that turning your face away from the man was enough to hide the heat in your cheeks and the shine in your eye from the compliment. Your halfhearted attempt at dampening your crush on the armored man had failed, and your heart continued to race every time he praised you or brushed up against you.

You had acknowledged that Mando’s first priority would always be the child, which you respected and agreed with. You often wondered if the subtle hints you sent his way, in your body language and voice, made it through the beskar armor. He was still as stoic and unflappable as he was when you first met, but his replies had started to come easier and it felt like he would now go out of his way to spend time with you, instead of the wide berth he had given you half a year ago. Part of you knew that it was due in no small part to the trust the two of you had built, but the romantic in you also liked to wonder if it was something a little more.

A sharp pain in the back of your neck pulled you out of your wistful thinking, and you winced. Chalking it up to too much caf too quickly, you decided you finish putting your things away and take a nap. You didn’t want it to turn into a headache or migraine, and a nap was usually enough to stave such off.

 --

Several hours later, you remained awake in your cot, head aching and body burning. You had slept in fitful bursts until the burning under your skin forced your eyes back open to the low light of the hold where you lay. Sweat trickled across your skin, and you let out a low moan tinged with pain. You felt like your very blood was made molten, chugging sluggishly through your veins and pooling uncomfortably between your thighs. Every slight movement of your legs and your body sent shocks of sensation to your most sensitive nerve endings.

Hoisting yourself up with some difficulty, you shuffled slowly towards the refresher, thin tank sticking to your clammy skin. Pushing open the door, you gazed at your reflection in the mirror, someone you had a hard time recognizing staring back. Your skin was slick with sweat, your pupils blown dark and wide. With a shaking hand, you turned on the water and tried to relieve some of your pain by splashing it across your face. It did nothing to help, and merely splashed your already sweat-soaked top with ice cold water.

Shutting the water off, you turned to return to your cot, only to bump straight into a broad metal chest. The impact wasn’t very hard, but in your fragile state you fell to the ground, legs shaking underneath you. Your head pounded, and you groaned and covered your eyes.

“Are you alright? You don’t look so good,” Mando inquired. You rasped out a ‘no’, throat dry. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you knew that you definitely did not feel well. Your pussy throbbed at the sound of his voice, which would normally not feel so bad. In your current state, it was almost painful.

Mando turned, looking for something, and returned shortly with a cup of water. He knelt to be closer to your level, and held up the cup to your lips. He helped you sip, and you downed the water gratefully, feeling the dryness in your throat ease some.

“What happened?” Mando asked, and you sighed.

“I don’t know,” you said weakly. “Maybe I’m sick? I felt fine until we got back to the Crest. I had a bit of a headache so I tried to sleep it off, but it just kept getting worse and worse.” A low ‘hmm’ emanated from the beskar helmet, and Mando pulled off a glove to place the back of his hand gently against your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into it, thankful for the coolness of his skin against your blazing cheek.

“You’re burning up,” Mando said, concern evident in his voice. “It’s odd that you’d get this sick this quickly.” You let out a whine as he removed his hand, letting you head lull to the side. A sudden thought rushed through your head and you looked up at him in panic.

“You – and the baby – I don’t want you two to get sick,” you breathed out. “You should get away from me, and keep him away.” Mando stood, and pulled a datapad towards him. Frustrated that he seemed to ignore your concern, you tried to pull yourself up and found it more of a struggle than you could attempt. Choosing instead to crawl towards him, you pleaded for him to return to the cockpit.”

“Hush,” Mando commanded, and it was like every cell in your body stood at attention to obey him. You shut your mouth and rested your head against his armored thigh, closing your eyes to ride another wave of the burning in your blood that seemed to both come from and end up between your legs.

“Did you have anything to eat when we were in the market earlier?” Mando asked. You shook your head weakly.

“N-no…just a couple cups of caf…”

His helmet tilted sharply to look down at you. “Caf? Are you sure?”

Confused, you shrugged. “I…I think so?” Now that you thought about it, it had tasted a little unusual, but you had assumed it was just some kind of local variety. “It was a little…spicy…?”

A muffled expletive was all you heard as Mando set the datapad down and crouched to get at your eye level again. He grasped your chin gently in one hand to steady your head, and you felt your blood sing. You could faintly make out your reflection in his helmet, your pupils so dark it felt like your vision should be black.

“Wha-?” you said in a hushed voice, confused. Mando sighed, and let go of your chin. He remained in a crouched position, arms on his knees and hands opening and closing into fists as he struggled to explain.

 “I think you’ve been poisoned,” he started slowly. Your head shot up, panic evident on your face. “Not on purpose,” he clarified, “at least I don’t think so. I don’t think what you were given was caf. That planet is known for an herb that – in some people – elicits this kind of reaction,” he gestured at you. “I’m guessing that it was in what you drank.”

Your mind raced. Poisoned? Herb? None of it made sense in your addled state. All you knew was that with every passing moment your body throbbed with need and you were edging closer and closer to shoving your hand into your pants right here in front of the Mandalorian.

“Is there an antidote?” You moaned. “How long does this last?”

Mando shook his head. “Not that I know of. From what I’ve encountered, it can last a couple of days, but I’ve never seen someone have such a strong reaction,” he explained sympathetically. “I don’t know how much you had, so I don’t know how long this will last.”

“Is there anything to relieve this feeling?” You practically begged. “Mando, I’m desperate, this is unbearable…”

The man cleared his throat. It was clear he was struggling with something.

“There is,” he said lowly. “But it’s…it’s not something that…” he trailed off. You stifled a sob and crawled closer to him. One of his hands came to steady you at your shoulder.

“This reaction – the herb – it affects your libido,” he continued calmly. You grit out a short, strained laugh.

“No shit.” Something about him acknowledging he understood what you were experiencing was almost liberating. You felt like the more he talked to you, the more he touched you, the closer you were to him the clearer your head felt. The burn under your skin was still there, and the desire pounding through your veins, but your mind and attention were more focused.

“Yeah. So you can work it through your system faster by, uh…” he stumbled over his words. “R-releasing…”

You wanted to sink through the floor and float off into space, never to be seen again. The idea of getting off here with Mando knowing was mortifying. Sure, you were attracted to him, but this was not the way you had fantasized about approaching the topic with him.

“Damn it,” you murmured. “Damn it.” You looked up at Mando, debating your options. It seemed you could either ride this out, not knowing how long it would last, or get off until it wore off. Mando made it sound like it would be at least a few days before it was out of your system naturally You already felt at the end of your rope after just a few hours, so you crossed that off your list. That left you with one option.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you sat back on your haunches. “Can you help me up?” You asked, voice trembling. “Get back to my cot so I can, uh…”

Understanding, Mando moved towards you. Instead of sampling helping you stand, you let out a small squeak as he hoisted you up into his arms. The feeling of your skin against his cold armor was both a relief and a trigger, sending more need through your body.

He walked you over to your cot, and gently laid you down. You let out another (mostly) involuntary moan as his strong embrace lessened, and you desperately wished he would continue to hold you.

“Thanks,” you gasped out. “I’m so sorr-“

“Do you want help?”

You closed your mouth, not knowing to believe what you thought you just heard or not. He had said it so suddenly. His helmeted gaze was fixed on you, and you propped yourself up on one elbow.

“H-help?” You gulped. “H-help how?” His gaze remained steady, and there was a tension radiating off his body like you hadn’t seen before.

“I could…touch you,” he clarified. “Help you…release. Only if you want to,” he added. “Never without – I’d never presume –“

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. Your body hummed with desperation and need. “Please, yes, Mando.” His concern for you was intoxicating, his hurried explanation endearing.

Mando slowly moved to sit on your cot. While your sleeping space wasn’t exactly tiny, his bulk took up most of the space as he leaned against the wall, spreading his legs slightly. “Lay against me,” he said gently. Your body immediately obeyed his command, and shot up to crawl between his legs, settling between them, back against the cool structure of his chest. You felt dwarfed by his body and his presence, and that in and of itself was sending notes of gratification through you.

He shifted you slightly, so that your legs could spread wider. The feeling of his gloved hands against the soft skin of your thighs made you gasp sweetly, and you closed your eyes and leaned your head back.

A short rustle, and then his hands were back, this time bare. “Can I touch you?” He asked again, one hand on your thigh, the other hovering over the waistband of your bottoms. You nodded, and let out a hushed ‘yes’. Despite your enhanced state, you felt fully in control of your senses and cognizant of your decision.

Mando slipped his hand under your shorts, and cupped your dripping cunt. You spread your legs further, bumping them up against his. His hand on your thigh rubbed soft, soothing circles as his other prodded your folds and clit carefully.

You were so pent up and sensitive your first orgasm came embarrassingly fast. Mando slowly caressed your swollen pussy as you bit your lip and whimpered.

“So soon?” Mando joked breathlessly. Your hands came up to grip his pants, fisting the material as your lower half writhed.

“M-more Mando, please…”

He obliged you, putting pressure on your throbbing clit. You chewed on your lower lip, trying to move your hips in motion with his ministrations. His hand ventured lower, two fingers slipping inside you as the heel of his palm rubbed your clit. You opened your mouth in a silent ‘ah’ as he began to stroke in and out of you – not too deep, just enough to make your legs begin to shake.

His unoccupied hand came up to rest on your lower stomach. You marveled at how hands so calloused could feel so soft against you. You looked down at where he continued to pump in and out of you, cheeks burning. You were wetter than you had ever been before, and the sound of Mando touching you was nearly obscene.

You could feel another orgasm approaching. Your hands gripped his pants harder, and you arched your back, trying to get Mando to fill you more. His hand on your stomach stayed firm, holding you in place as he methodically fingered your dripping cunt.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice husky and low even through the vocoder. “Let me help you-”

“M-maker…” you gasped. He ground his palm against your mound, and you were on the precipice. Your thighs shook with the effort of trying not to writhe so much that he lose his grip. You wondered where he learned to do this. Maybe it was the effect of the herb making you more sensitive, but it was like he was playing your body like an artist perfecting a masterpiece.

Your orgasm built like chain lightning, and rolled over you like thunder. Your thighs snapped closed, trapping his hand between your legs. Your head fell forward as you wailed, Mando coaching you through your second release.

“Yes, good girl, you’re doing so well-“

It felt like your release lasted two lifetimes before your thighs began to part. You felt extremely sensitive as Mando slipped his fingers out of you, trailing them up over your clit. Your body jerked from the sensation, and you panted, eyes closed.

“Feeling better?” Mando murmured, hand rubbing soft circles on your tummy. You nodded, voice not found. You were feeling lightyears better in fact – the burn was still there, but so much more subdued and your head no longer pounded.

“Mmm,” he said. “I guess your exceptional reaction results in exceptional completion.”

You let out a laugh. “Is that your hypothesis?” Mando’s hands returned to your thighs, and you bit your lip as he teased the soft skin there.

“Perhaps,” he mused. “I think it could benefit from more investigation.”

“Agreed,” you breathed, letting the pleasure wash over you as he resumed his attention dutifully.

 --

pt 2 but with din getting sex pollen’d.....? ∠( ᐛ 」∠)

[omnischool]

Formation e-commerce Rabat

Formation professionnelle en ligne e-commerce, Cours de commerce sur Internet, Cours de communication digitale en ligne, Formation e-Commerce en ligne, Formation commerce électronique à distance, Cours E-commerce à distance, Prof E-commerce Rabat, Professeur de e-Commerce Rabat  

Cours SEO SEA SMO e-commerce, Apprendre le e-commerce en ligne

Apprendre le e-commerce à distance, Apprendre le e-commerce sur Internet

Cours e-commerce à domicile Rabat.

Online e-commerce professional training, Internet commerce course, Online digital communication course, Online e-Commerce training, Distance e-commerce training, Distance e-commerce course, Professor E-commerce Rabat,

التدريب المهني للتجارة الإلكترونية عبر الإنترنت ، دورة التجارة الإلكترونية ، دورة الاتصال الرقمي عبر الإنترنت ، التدريب على التجارة الإلكترونية عبر الإنترنت ، التدريب على التجارة الإلكترونية عن بعد

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Collective Intelligence Institute

History is written by the winners, which is why Luddite is a slur meaning “technophobe” and not a badge of honor meaning, “Person who goes beyond asking what technology does, to asking who it does it for and who it does it to.”

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/07/full-stack-luddites/#subsidiarity

Luddites weren’t anti-machine activists, they were pro-worker advocates, who believed that the spoils of automation shouldn’t automatically be allocated to the bosses who skimmed the profits from their labor and spent them on machines that put them out of a job. There is no empirical right answer about who should benefit from automation, only social contestation, which includes all the things that desperate people whose access to food, shelter and comfort are threatened might do, such as smashing looms and torching factories.

The question of who should benefit from automation is always urgent, and it’s also always up for grabs. Automation can deepen and reinforce unfair arrangements, or it can upend them. No one came off a mountain with two stone tablets reading “Thy machines shall condemn labor to the scrapheap of the history while capital amasses more wealth and power.” We get to choose.

Capital’s greatest weapon in this battle is inevitabilism, sometimes called “capitalist realism,” summed up with Frederic Jameson’s famous quote “It’s easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism” (often misattributed to Žižek). A simpler formulation can be found in the doctrine of Margaret Thatcher: “There Is No Alternative,” or even Dante’s “Abandon hope all ye who enter here.”

Hope — alternatives — lies in reviving our structural imagination, thinking through other ways of managing our collective future. Last May, Wired published a brilliant article that did just that, by Divya Siddarth, Danielle Allen and E. Glen Weyl:

https://www.wired.com/story/web3-blockchain-decentralization-governance/

That article, “The Web3 Decentralization Debate Is Focused on the Wrong Question,” set forth a taxonomy of decentralization, exploring ways that power could be distributed, checked, and shared. It went beyond blockchains and hyperspeculative, Ponzi-prone “mechanism design,” prompting me to subtitle my analysis “Not all who decentralize are bros”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/12/crypto-means-cryptography/#p2p-rides-again

That article was just one installment in a long, ongoing project by the authors. Now, Siddarth has teamed up with Saffron Huang to launch the Collective Intelligence project, “an incubator for new governance models for transformative technology.”

https://cip.org/whitepaper

The Collective Intelligence Project’s research focus is “collective intelligence capabilities: decision-making technologies, processes, and institutions that expand a group’s capacity to construct and cooperate towards shared goals.” That is, asking more than how automation works, but who it should work for.

Collective Intelligence institutions include “markets…nation-state democracy…global governance institutions and transnational corporations, standards-setting organizations and judicial courts, the decision structures of universities, startups, and nonprofits.” All of these institutions let two or more people collaborate, which is to say, it lets us do superhuman things — things that transcend the limitations of the lone individual.

Our institutions are failing us. Confidence in democracy is in decline, and democratic states have failed to coordinate to solve urgent crises, like the climate emergency. Markets are also failing us, “flatten[ing] complex values in favor of over-optimizing for cost, profit, or share price.”

Neither traditional voting systems nor speculative markets are up to the task of steering our emerging, transformative technologies — neither machine learning, nor bioengineering, nor labor automation. Hence the mission of CIP: “Humans created our current CI systems to help achieve collective goals. We can remake them.”

The plan to do this is in two phases:

Value elicitation: “ways to develop scalable processes for surfacing and combining group beliefs, goals, values, and preferences.” Think of tools like Pol.is, which Taiwan uses to identify ideas that have the broadest consensus, not just the most active engagement.

Remake technology institutions: “technology development beyond the existing options of non-profit, VC-funded startup, or academic project.” Practically, that’s developing tools and models for “decentralized governance and metagovernance, internet standards-setting,” and consortia.

The founders pose this as a solution to “The Transformative Technology Trilemma” — that is, the supposed need to trade off between participation, progress and safety.

This trilemma usually yields one of three unsatisfactory outcomes:

Capitalist Acceleration: “Sacrificing safety for progress while maintaining basic participation.” Think of private-sector geoengineering, CRISPR experimentation, or deployment of machine learning tools. AKA “bro shit.”

Authoritarian Technocracy: “Sacrificing participation for progress while maintaining basic safety.” Think of the vulnerable world hypothesis weirdos who advocate for universal, total surveillance to prevent “runaway AI,” or, of course, the Chinese technocratic system.

Shared Stagnation: “Sacrificing progress for participation while maintaining basic safety.” A drive for local control above transnational coordination, unwarranted skepticism of useful technologies (AKA “What the Luddites are unfairly accused of”).

The Institute’s goal is to chart a fourth path, which seeks out the best parts of all three outcomes, while leaving behind their flaws. This includes deliberative democracy tools like sortition and assemblies, backed by transparent machine learning tools that help surface broadly held views from within a community, not just the views held by the loudest participants.

This dovetails into creating new tech development institutions to replace the default, venture-backed startup for “societally-consequential, infrastructural projects,” including public benefit companies, focused research organizations, perpetual purpose trusts, co-ops, etc.

It’s a view I find compelling, personally, enough so that I have joined the organization as a volunteer advisor.

This vision resembles the watershed groups in Ruthanna Emrys’s spectacular “Half-Built Garden,” which was one of the most inspiring novels I read last year (a far better source of stfnal inspo than the technocratic fantasies of the “Golden Age”):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/26/aislands/#dead-ringers

And it revives the long-dormant, utterly necessary spirit of the Luddites, which you can learn a lot more about in Brian Merchant’s forthcoming, magesterial “Blood In the Machine: The Origins of the Rebellion Against Big Tech”:

https://www.littlebrown.com/titles/brian-merchant/blood-in-the-machine/9780316487740/

This week (Feb 8–17), I’ll be in Australia, touring my book Chokepoint Capitalism with my co-author, Rebecca Giblin. We’ll be in Brisbane tomorrow (Feb 8), and then we’re doing a remote event for NZ on Feb 9. Next are Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra. I hope to see you!

[Image ID: An old Ace Double paperback. The cover illustration has been replaced with an 18th century illustration depicting a giant Ned Ludd leading an army of Luddites who have just torched a factory. The cover text reads: 'The Luddites. Smashing looms was their tactic, not their goal.']

[prosegalaxy]

Once a lowly tinkerer, he found the Scepter of the Winds. A quest unfolded, as unlikely heroes joined his cause. They braved treacherous lands and unraveled ancient secrets. Transformed by love and destiny, they became legends forever entwined in the whispers of time.

[kachmedcom]

Supports de formation complets et conformes aux référentiels RNCP et RS

Supports de formation complets et conformes aux référentiels RNCP et RS

Supports de formation complets et conformes aux référentiels RNCP et RS En tant que formateur, vous avez besoin de supports de formation complets et conformes aux référentiels RNCP et RS. Ces référentiels définissent les compétences et les connaissances que les stagiaires doivent acquérir au cours de la formation. Nos supports de formation répondent à ces exigences. Ils sont conçus par des…

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1959 brick duplex in Tucson, Arizona is known as "The Castle," but I think it looks more like The Alamo. Anyway, if you like brick, this house has a lot of it. 4bds, 2ba, and it's got a "lived-in" look, but maybe a little cleaning and polish will brighten it up. At $485K it's not a bad price in today's housing market. It already has a sale pending, too.

Entering the front door, the living room is to your right. There's a nice large brick fireplace- love the 2 little houses on the mantel. That has to be the original floor and it's throughout the house. I wonder if they recently painted the brick white, b/c I tend to think that it may have originally been natural. The home was built by a master mason using old bricks, I doubt that he'd paint that.

To the left of the front door is the kitchen. The light fixture is above a roomy area for the kitchen table. This home is a little dark and even the skylights and big windows don't help much.

The kitchen has the original knotty pine cabinets, but look at the 70s brown oven. What a gem. Straight ahead at the far end looks like a water heater and washer.

This is cool. The cooktop is in a brick oven type thing. There's storage underneath (I'd be a little afraid to open it) and I like the lights in the hood. The floor is damaged a bit, the corners need the white tornado to clean it, and look at the grease on the brick.

Oh, here we go, there is a laundry room at the end of the kitchen.

Funky bath. I told you it had the lived-in look. The bottom cabinets have some water damage and need refinishing.

Here's a family room with a a rounded brick corner fireplace. I like the light in the niche. This room opens to the patio. Unless this is a bedroom, b/c I don't see one pictured.

So, here we have an enclosed porch with nice shelving. Floor needs paint, but this would be a nice potting room.

This is behind the house, probably the back entrances to both units. The sale includes the whole building and the description says that both units are rented. I don't know, they're empty in the photos.

So, here we are in Unit #2. Notice how shiny the floors are in this unit. The ceiling beams even look polyurethaned.

This unit looks bigger, so maybe it's meant to be the owner's side.

This unit has a different layout and looks larger to me. It has a built-in shelf and a corner fireplace.

The kitchen has a different layout, too. Not lovin' the original tile counters. It has the same original oven, but the cooktop is in the corner.

This unit looks to be in better condition.

They don't really indicate which are the bedrooms, but this may be the primary with the fireplace and closets.

This bath is better shape than the other one.

Private patio has a wall between the units. Is that round thing a barbeque?

This rock formation sees to have a light inside, or maybe it's a pump for a water feature.

The yard appears to be gravel and there're built-in tables that are so cute.

This yard has some grass and a garden.