7nknr bry9a 88hde nhky5 46zsk 3bda2 57adi sf3ae 39d8d hknz7 ek356 as7et t9nyd 3bind sbbya e6ktr h358t z9asd tad8y fz2s9 48b5t On the topic of Women: Being a "Woman" involves being attractive and well kept |

On the topic of Women: Being a "Woman" involves being attractive and well kept

2022.01.28 17:00 RandomRedditGuy322 On the topic of Women: Being a "Woman" involves being attractive and well kept

Many times on this subreddit people suggest that men aren't men unless they provide something. And for better or for worse this is true. Men are loved only on the condition that they can provide for someone other than themselves. Just look at how male homelessness is treated versus female homelessness and you'll realize this is true.
But I have been thinking lately, and something similar applies to women as well. A woman isn't really a woman unless she meets a baseline level of attractiveness and is also well kept (knows how to look good, keeps herself thin.) What becomes of the women who can't meet this? Well, they simply become men. A fat homeless woman would be treated the same as a regular homeless man by most men, for example.
And I think I might have found the key to this entire subreddit, why the genders cannot discuss gendered subjects with one another. Men will reference and use the word "woman" in our discussions, and while it might be technically correct to say that this applies to all people having two X chromosomes, they only really mean for it to apply to the women they consider women. In other words the women in the comments section refuting the views of the man are doing so not because the man is wrong, but because the man would, in real life, view that woman as a man and therefore his analysis wouldn't apply to her.
For example, many men point to the numerous female privileges that exist in real life (e.g. women being able to sleep their way to the top of a company), which are absolutely true and must end. Many women say these don't exist because they themselves have never experienced them. And in many cases they are telling the truth, they really haven't gotten/used them. Not because female privileges are nonexistent though, but because society never deemed them to be enough of a woman to receive them. That is the key here.
In my own experience, I feel like there are two kinds of women. Those who I am attracted to, who I treat like women, and those who I am not attracted to, which I treat like other men. In any case, I don't discriminate I simply treat some women like I treat guys.
But I'm almost certain what I've described is true, and why most of what is discussed on PPD could simply never materialize in real life. Because the women complaining on the subreddit wouldn't be considered women IRL, so they would probably just be ignored like most men are. And it also explains why most women represented in media are extremely attractive, because unattractive women would just be replaced by a man and the audience would be indifferent. Therefore, any woman who is present must be attractive else lose their job to a man. I mean just thinking about it now almost every fat person I see in the media whether its a movie or the news is a man.
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2022.01.28 17:00 humalajumal First time Giving Credit #inspo

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2022.01.28 17:00 CalicoLoaf CalicoLoaf: Fine Art Collection (NFTs)

Check out the fine art collection at www.calicoloaf.com and purchase/bid through Open Sea, all unique and original art!
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2022.01.28 17:00 GokiPotato how do I update game with cia file?

I only have cia update file, when using hackingtoolkit3ds I only get encrypted not working file which is about 1/3 of the original size
submitted by GokiPotato to Citra [link] [comments]


2022.01.28 17:00 miles_morales_69 Can u give ap tests in ur gap year?

Like if u deferred ur entry to class of 2027 so can u take ap tests in may 2023 and get credit for it?
submitted by miles_morales_69 to APStudents [link] [comments]


2022.01.28 17:00 CryptooGuide How And Where To Buy Nebulaprotocol (SNBL) - Step By Step Guide

How And Where To Buy Nebulaprotocol (SNBL) - Step By Step Guide submitted by CryptooGuide to CryptooGuide [link] [comments]


2022.01.28 17:00 jobsinanywhere “Bomb Low Pressure” set to bring blizzards and hurricane strong winds to the northeast on Friday: That’s why.

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2022.01.28 17:00 AndreiAZA Drawing Hollow Knight until Silksong releases, but each day I add more detail (Day 110)

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2022.01.28 17:00 Zikri_I47 Please all I need is Havertz

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2022.01.28 17:00 MaxxFisher Winona Ryder, Jodie Foster & Julia Roberts (1989)

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2022.01.28 17:00 Artur_exe Anyone using Vite with Vue/Laravel?

I've just seen You's introduction to Vite. It seems to provide speed but require some work to get going. Do you think it will replace webpack at some point in the future? Is it popular at this point in time?
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2022.01.28 17:00 TheRuiner666 My lone tree (OC)

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2022.01.28 17:00 samm105107 Is it possible to pay for extending eligibility period via PayPal?

The site says Via , MasterCard, Discover or American Express. But they have the PayPal logo on top . So is it possible ?
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2022.01.28 17:00 inertiamatter Cucumbers hold a very special place in his heart

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2022.01.28 17:00 dorito_monster Starting invisalign & travel timing

Hi, I'm supposed to see my dentist soon to get my attachments and start my trays. A week after I will traveling and skiing for a week. The trip will also involve a lot of eating out. Do you think I'll have issues with this one week after starting invisalign? Should I reschedule it to start after the trip? Any advice is appreciated!
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2022.01.28 17:00 Dykowski Wizard(?)

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2022.01.28 17:00 Goanimelist1 Slow Loop episode 4

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2022.01.28 17:00 Thomas_Diaz I've been getting these odd notes to "PAY A FINE" This happen to anyone before?

I’ve been in construction my whole working life. I started straight out of school, ten years ago, and I’ve spent much of that time on the move. Not a lot of people know this, but when the job ends, craft workers are mostly laid off. Pipefitters, carpenters, crane operators, all gone. That means we need to pick up our tools and head to a different jobsite, hoping to get hired back on. Since the money is good, that’s what I do. It’s the life I’ve always known. Every few years, I just travel from one side of the country to the other, hoping to find work.
After my last job ended, which was about a week ago, I received word from my old boss that this oil company was hiring. He said that since I was a good worker, I was just hired. Just show up and get to work. Told him to give me a few days and I’ll be there as soon as I could. As for the location, it was in some small town out in Illinois called Brookfield. I’d never heard of the place before, but that was nothing new. Most plants are built in the middle of nowhere. This is in case they explode; the loss of life would be minimal compared to the same disaster in a city.
The next morning, I packed up my stuff and started driving. On the road, I called and spoke to some guy named Trevor over the phone. I’d found him on Craigslist. He was renting a room and the price was about what I wanted to pay.
“Heh, I’d love to have you!” Through the phone, his voice sounded jovial. “I’ll get some clean sheets on that bed and an extra set of blankets. It gets a little chilly this time of year.”
“Oh, sir, thank you so much! I’ll see you when I get there,” I said.
After driving about ten hours, I finally arrived at Brookfield, and it was …nothing like how I expected. I’ve been to some shitty towns before, but this one right here…
Their downtown could have easily have been made into a setting for the Walking Dead. Most of the buildings I drove past looked either abandoned or half demolished. Some had girders sticking out the sides like exposed ribs. Electric poles lay broken in the streets. One place that might once have been a giftshop looked like it had just burned down the night before. Parts of the blackened wood were still smoldering.
The only buildings I saw that were intact were a police station and a Waffle House. Also—directly in the center of the town—there was a random graveyard. Not the sort with a freshly mowed lawn and neat tombstones set at regular intervals. This one had crosses, the kind made from two sticks roped together, buried in the muddy soil. Mounds of dirt sat next to freshly dug graves. Trees, their limbs twisted and gnarled, were scattered through the area, casting misshapen shadows. One of them even had a noose hanging from one of its branches. It swayed gently back and forth.
I couldn’t help but wonder if some kids had put it up there as some sort of sick joke, or if it was meant as a threat. A threat for whom, I had no idea.
Swallowing around the tightness in my throat, I continued on, followed the GPS on my phone and arrived at the place listed.
Trevor was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a handwritten note taped to the door. It read:
“Sam, sorry I couldn’t be there. Something came up out of town that I gotta take care of. Just hold onto the rent for a few days, I’ll collect it as soon as I get back. Key’s in the potted plant. Head on in and make yourself at home. – Trevor”
There was an arrow at the bottom, drawn in sharpie, pointing down and to the left.
I wouldn’t exactly have called the object beneath a potted plant. More accurately, I would have said that it was a pot of dusty soil with cobwebs and a small bare branch sticking out of the center.
I jerked a shoulder, dug the key out of the dirt and did as the paper said.
The next morning, as I made myself a pot of coffee in the kitchen, I found myself studying the pictures on the walls and the elderly gentleman who featured in a number of them. I assumed this was Trevor. In one picture, he was fishing. In another, he was at a family function, swinging at a pinata. He had a kind face. Smiling in every photograph. I thought that, once I met the guy, we’d probably get along nicely.
After pouring my cup of joe, I headed outside, ready to leave for work, when I saw something on my windshield. There was an envelope placed under my wiper. Confused, I collected the envelope, pulled the paper out and read it. It said I’d been fined $100. Literally, YOU HAVE BEEN FINED $100. No explanation. What’s more, it was written on a normal sheet of wide-rule, loose leaf paper…in red crayon.
Listed on the bottom of the paper was an address where I was supposed to mail the “cash, check or money order”.
What the shit is this? I thought to myself, flipping the paper over and inspecting the back. It had to be a prank. Right? So I did what anybody would have done.
I shrugged, and tossed it in the backseat where it landed on the floorboard. Then I went to my new jobsite, where I worked as a crane operator. Most of the day, I was up in the cab transporting steel. It’s a hard, lonely life, but I was okay with that. It was good money. I didn’t even mind that fact that I didn’t get toilet breaks. I’d just carry a bottle. High up in the cab, I saw the other craft workers, milling about, doing their jobs. Flagging, sanding and pipe laying. Since it took me thirty minutes to climb out of the crane, most were already gone home by the time I got down.
As for that odd note, I wanted to mention it to my old boss, ask him if he’d ever heard of it, but it seemed like he hadn’t come in that day. So I just got on with things, finished for the day and went home.
The following morning, when I went out to my car, all of the windows had been busted out. The windshield looked like somebody had taken a sledgehammer to it. To say I was pissed is an understatement.
“What the fuck!” I said to no one, throwing my arms wide, approaching my vehicle.
Once again, placed underneath the wiper was another envelope. This one read, “WARNING. FINE IS NOW $200. PAY… or you will be sent you home”.
Of all of things I’ve been through in my life, this was probably the weirdest shit ever. Especially bizarre was that I hadn’t heard the glass shatter last night. Surely, I thought, I would have heard it considering I was a light sleeper and my bedroom window was only a few feet from my car.
Fueled with anger, I crumpled up the letter. I wanted to blame Trevor for this, but the guy hadn’t come back home yet. I was the only one here last night. So if it wasn’t him, then who was leaving these fines? Still pissed, I removed what was left of the windshield, got in my car and drove to the address listed on the sheet. In my opinion, this type of behavior warranted an ass whooping. And I was ready to give it.
But, when I got to the location, it was not exactly what I’d been expecting. It was the damn graveyard in the center of town.
My blood chilled as I slowed the car to a stop. The eeriness of the situation made the hair on my arms stand on end and a twinge of nausea twist my gut. I didn’t know what to do, so I stared through the emptiness where my windshield should have been for a few minutes, gaze wandering across the grave markers.
Eventually, I got myself together. The police station was across the street, so that was where I went. It was convenient, considering I needed to fill out a police report to file to my insurance anyway.
Inside the station, I found a fit, middle aged police officer sitting behind a wooden desk.
The officer typed away at his computer. “How can I help you?”
I put the envelope down on the desk.
“Yeah. Well, I got this fine, and—”
Silence fell across the entire police station.
Behind him, every head in the room swiveled in my direction. Concern colored all their faces. Some huffed out worried breaths, others quickly returned their attention to their papers, scribbling fast, avoiding eye contact with me. One guy looked angry, like he really wanted to kick my ass.
The officer swallowed. “And, uh. Where did you find this exactly?”
“Somebody left it on my car.”
His eyes widened as some type of realization flashed across his face. His hand bounced, knocking on the wood.
“What is it?” I asked, feeling my heartrate elevate. That nausea surged again.
He cleared his throat. He patted the envelope on the desk and slid it back to me.
“What is your name, son?” he asked.
“Sam. Sam Chavez.”
He nodded. “Well, Sam. I’m going to need you to pay this.”
“What?”
“You’re going to have to pay this.”
“I don’t understand.”
The man leaned forward with a hard stare. His hand landed on his gun. “Is there a problem here?”
What the hell, I thought.
I swallowed, trying to regain my composure. “Well, can I just give you the cash, then?”
“No,” he said.
I was so lost. “Well…huh? Why the hell not?”
“Because you have to mail it in.”
What?”
“You getting loud with me, boy?”
I blinked. “Huh?”
“Pay the fine. Now get the hell out of here before I put you behind bars. Are we clear?”
Leaving the police station, I was so confused, I was actually scratching the back of my head. This was so insane that I didn’t know what else to do. I needed… something. Answers or some shit. Or, at least, to find out who was doing this…
I tried calling my old boss to ask him for some advice. No answer. I even tried calling Trevor. Same.
So I drove fifty miles out of town and stopped at a Walmart. There, I picked up an outdoor Nest camera and then headed back to my place. After setting up the camera, I installed the app on my phone and paid the subscription service to actively record all movements.
Then I fell asleep. That night, around 3 a.m., my phone buzzed, alerting me that there was motion outside. Half awake, I clicked open the app and saw a truck pull to a stop in the driveway. I recognized the man who got out from the pictures I’d seen, so I knew it was Trevor.
He slammed his door and made his way into the house. I considered talking to him, introducing myself, but the guy was probably tired. It was 3 a.m., after all. So I closed out the app and went back to sleep.
That morning, as I came out of my bedroom, I saw something in the hall that made me freeze. Blood. I was almost sure it was blood. It had that smell. A trail of splatters led to the kitchen. I followed. There I found Trevor. He was lying on the kitchen counter, chest cracked open like an alien had burst out of it. Ribs spread, viscera scattered all over the tile and sink. His face was twisted in horror, his mouth wide open, his lips stretched in a silent howl of agony. In his hand was an envelope that I was all too familiar with me. For some reason, it was the cleanest thing in the kitchen. There wasn’t a speck of blood on it. The letter hung down low, angled to where the wording faced me. It read: THIS IS THE COST.
Fighting either a panic attack or a nervous breakdown, I staggered back and vomited onto the floor. I sucked in a huge breath, trying to force myself to calm down, but I couldn’t hold it against the next rush of vomit, and I spewed the rest of my dinner onto the kitchen floor. Coughing and gasping, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and scrambled away from the body.
After gathering what little rationality I had left, I fished my phone out of my pocket and dialed those three numbers.
“911, what’s your emergency?” said the lady on the opposite end of the line.
I took a deep breath. The air still smelled of blood and vomit.
“H-Hi. M-my roommate. He-he’s dead.”
“What is the address?”
“212 Silver—”
“212 Silverlake Dr.? A man is dead?” Her voice sounded terse, maybe even annoyed.
“Yes. How did you—”
“This is why you pay the damn fine!” she said.
Click.So I did. I mailed in a check that night, and got the hell out of dodge. I’m used to living on the move, but I’ve never packed up so quickly. I left the body just…lying there as I cleared out. Someone else’s problem. I’d had enough of this bullshit. Screw that creepy ass town, the job, and that damn graveyard. I drove all night, heading for my parents’ house, where I knew they had my old bedroom waiting. I didn’t want to wake them, so when I got there, I used my spare key to let myself in.
Something was waiting for me on my old bedroom door.
My blood froze.
Scotch-taped to the wood was a note. Same familiar handwriting, same red crayon. And I realized that maybe I’d made a mistake. All along, the notes had been delivered to Trevor’s address. Trevor had been the one to die. Perhaps whoever—whatever—had sent those fines, they hadn’t meant any of it for me.
But now I had their attention.
The note read: Who are you?”
Numbly, I pushed the door open. I was just… tired. I didn’t know what to do. What the hell had I gotten myself into? I had the idea. I just wanted to collapse into bed and figure something out later.
Inside, the walls, the bed, the desk, all of them were plastered hundreds of wide rule, loose leaf paper.
WHO ARE YOU? they demanded. WHO ARE YOU, WHO ARE YOU, WHO ARE YOU?
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2022.01.28 17:00 ClashHDTV 10 months strong 💪🏾

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2022.01.28 17:00 ttipo Rare pyts, no limit links💰📲 hit me got proof📲

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2022.01.28 17:00 jVanAllen99 African sunset,artist, jeffreyVanAllen,2022,acrylic

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2022.01.28 17:00 Wiggs2456 February 1?

So, yesterday I read the most recent SEC filings on AVCT and saw that the new Chairman (Tessler) is set to receive 1,000,000 restricted stock units (common shares) in quarterly installments over the next 3 years with the first installment due on Feb. 1. That was announced Jan. 6th. About the time we started to see the heavily manipulation bringing the price down slowly from there.
While I understand “restricted stock units” to mean certain criteria need to be met first (which I’m pretty sure is just him still being on the board at the time they are due). But being common shares, I am guessing (tho I don’t know for sure) that the value of those shares will be either the value on the date received or maybe an avg over a certain time period?
Maybe others could offer their input on that? My hypothesis is that this hangs around $1.00 to $1.20 until Feb. 1 so he can get cheap shares.
Not sure if this has been mentioned before (I just noticed this yesterday).
Already announced the computex divestment….more news could be coming Feb. 1 after these shares are placed?
Tinfoil hat off now. Would like input on this from more experienced traders
submitted by Wiggs2456 to avct [link] [comments]


2022.01.28 17:00 MuscleAppropriate An official Burger King twitter account using DBZ m-Preg art for their advertising

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2022.01.28 17:00 Enlightened_Shaman Didn't pull any God Cards, but not a bad box at all

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2022.01.28 17:00 JonBoscoe Wager has done it again folks!

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