First brick gable job. Taking over a job that someone had given up on.

2021.10.24 09:51 Express-Hall3583 First brick gable job. Taking over a job that someone had given up on.

First brick gable job. Taking over a job that someone had given up on. submitted by Express-Hall3583 to stonemasonry [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 Agreeable_Spend_9043 Мем

https://twitter.com/KS96564486/status/1452256196413607940?t=wHJ__ihSJLkaXbASpQZgEQ&s=09
Discord — Kse#0744 Twitter — @KS96564486
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2021.10.24 09:51 The_Unknown_2006 Why the servers are restarting suddenly, this is so bad when you have a high score

Why the servers are restarting suddenly, this is so bad when you have a high score submitted by The_Unknown_2006 to Arrasio [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 sloeyzoey Is my colleague trying to tell me something?

Is my colleague trying to tell me something? submitted by sloeyzoey to mildlypenis [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 FluydLloid Vampy, baby🎶

Vampy, baby🎶 submitted by FluydLloid to LuxloCosplay [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 Morgan-992 Quilting is a fun and practical way to pass time and the best thing is you can be as creative as you like, and you will finish with a freshly-sewn blanket with delicate details on it. But most quilters nowadays use machine quilting as their primary quilting method since they can choose from many opt

Quilting is a fun and practical way to pass time and the best thing is you can be as creative as you like, and you will finish with a freshly-sewn blanket with delicate details on it. But most quilters nowadays use machine quilting as their primary quilting method since they can choose from many opt submitted by Morgan-992 to McrOne [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 the_red_stinger_82 That face when today's pinata party is the same as the one Penny's Pursuit level

That face when today's pinata party is the same as the one Penny's Pursuit level submitted by the_red_stinger_82 to PlantsVSZombies [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 selflessGene How do I stop Readarr from trying to monitor every book every author in my library ever wrote?

I don't want to monitor authors. Just import the existing books in my library, that's all.
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2021.10.24 09:51 Tobeastrife Cheers to anyone else who came to see The End of Evangelion at the Glasgow Film Theatre last night!

I had a blast. Loved the sudden applause immediately after the hospital scene. I felt like I was dreaming.
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2021.10.24 09:51 Balance-Prior Good entry point?

I’m new to Shibu and wanted to see what a good entry point would be?
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2021.10.24 09:51 TeresaTA #technofanart I took way more time on this than I should, inspiration is from the VIPS in squid game, welp here ya go (pain) Twitter: Terei Bun

#technofanart I took way more time on this than I should, inspiration is from the VIPS in squid game, welp here ya go (pain) Twitter: Terei Bun submitted by TeresaTA to Technoblade [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 zguarja Help new speakers for Inspiron 5520 doesn't work

Since the speakers are broken I had limited availability to find new ones in my country.So I found some from aliexpress, and those doesn't work. When I installed those, the laptop didn't turn on at all. It was beeping, so I installed old speakers again. Does anyone have experience with this? Can I somehow install this speakers to work?
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2021.10.24 09:51 lukesic Nice stormy night

Nice stormy night submitted by lukesic to raining [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 International_Tea259 U novembru cu primiti prvu platu od YT-a pa imam neka pitanja.

Epa kao sto u naslovu pise sad u novembru bi trebalo da primim prvu novac od svog YouTube kanala. I zanima koliki bi porez trebalo da platim na sumu koju dobijem I u koji tip radnika porezski spadam? Trebalo di da dobijem negde od 70€ do 100€. Posto imam 16 godina ja Sam adsense nalog povezao sa tatinim racunom pa me zanima kako bi sve to funkcionisalo? I uopste ako imate neke savete sto se tice adsense-a isplacivanja sa njega?
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2021.10.24 09:51 South_Tale_4419 20 Do you ever feel like you'd rather not be alone but just can't figure out with who?

Sometimes It feels like you're looking for someone but you're not sure who, sounds kind of weird now that I put it into words ahahah
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2021.10.24 09:51 Labammba_the_doggo You play chess I play Checkers

You play chess I play Checkers submitted by Labammba_the_doggo to shitposting [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 Dry_Mine_4381 Gotta love your whole family making fun of you for shitting yourself when you were three

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2021.10.24 09:51 wilgarfred 【MV】中山莉子生誕祭ver『summer dejavu』

【MV】中山莉子生誕祭ver『summer dejavu』 submitted by wilgarfred to ShiritsuEbisuChuugaku [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 Vivid_Shirt9368 Chapter 4

Chapter 4. The Desert.
Dom ordered a round of beer. And with some glimmers of growing success Pedro played vehemently into netting up losses again.
“Pay up you little brownie!” Castor sneered drunk and with open disdain.
Now, referencing Pedro’s skin, Avery found himself looking at him different for the first time. Had Pedro always been in the sun? Why were none of his other uncles so well painted? Had he thought Pedro just always dirty from working more than any other soul in town? If only to pay off his gambling debts? Avery’s mind began to buzz in different sort of way with deep questions and beer. But he kept them in while Uncle Tom, Dom and Castor smoked the room out with the cigars Pedro had rolled.
The hour grew late and one by one they tottered off. Avery, without his usual accomplice, found himself walking beside his best friend’s father down the narrow dusty roads.
“How much you owe?”
“A dollar to Dom. And a day’s work for Castor.” said Pedro.
“They were pretty drunk Uncle Pedro.”
Pedro chuckled then laughed heartily, “Sometimes they are so drunk. They don’t even remember the next day.”
The two laughed together as they went. The questions that formed in Avery's mind earlier came back like a moth to its candlelight perch as Pedro lit the last of his three rationed cigars for the day. The first he smoked after breakfast as he prepared to begin work in the field. The second he smoked as he walked to the Goose. The third was for his walk home. Any superfluous smoking was at the donation of friends.
“What was Aunt Josie running from?” Pedro didn’t look at him.
“There are things in this world, Son.” he shook his drunken head, “We all need to run from.”
“Uncle Pedro that ain’t an answer.”
Pedro was drunker than usual and he continued, “When you find you have to run. You will know it. But will you run fast enough? Can you run long enough? How will you know? And when the judge comes, how will you know it’s going to be good for you? Slow or quick? Eh? No one knows. If the judge says 'hang him!' Who says to the hangman 'let him go'? Who lets you go? When everyone is in the business of keeping?”
Avery waited for the thought to fade in the desert of silence but found it only seemed to roll into the crunch of gravel under their feet.
“What did she run from?” Avery pried hoping the alcohol held the door open. Pedro watched the ground they walked on for a breath or so silently.
“I saved her.” Pedro nodded his head to himself but his voice sounded like someone found a dead hatchling bird. “She ran from here.”
“From what?”
“She ran for herself. No future here. She ran to…” but here Pedro shook his head.
“Is it too much to explain what -” Avery began to say but Pedro cut him off.
“She got in trouble here. Leaving made it worse. So I stopped it from happening. That’s how they let me be one of them here.” the drunk tripped on a rock, “I look after Josie. That was price.”
They came to the gate of Pedro’s house. And Pedro put the remainder of his cigar in the boy’s hand. And raised his finger to his lips with the other on the lad’s shoulder as if something more was to be said. Avery’s heart soared. First to be given tobacco by the closest he had ever had to a father, marking him as so many youths seem to think, as a man. And second the great welling of a secret seemed to drum like a tide against Pedro’s pursed lips. But as the man nearly burst he turned away. His strength to hold in had won out and waving good night Avery watched him walk up the porch steps. The moment his step reached the top a woman’s voice rang out from inside:
“So you’re done losing at the Goose again?”
Avery saw the shadow of Pedro shrug at the door before he squared himself and shuffled through the dark frame. Josie’s voice said something indistinct. Then it grew sharper and heavy with contempt.
“Your drunk.” She spat louder than Pedro needed to hear. For Avery heard it clearly from the lane where he was still drawing the remains of Pedro’s cigar. Pedro did not reply.
“You lost more money I know that. Where’s Malcolm?” A low mumble of a voice replied followed by some clearing of his voice. Which not a few minutes before was so free of inhibition that he was adding smoke.
“You let my only son walk right out the Goose, under your supervision, in the middle of the night with a girl.” Josie’s voice postured like colonel dressing down a sargent. “What slut is he doing God knows what with -and with your permission?”
He cleared his throat again.
“Dom’s girl?” she shrieked, but then paused and calmly but with every tongue of flame that blame could thrust given her voice she pushed into her words, “And I bet you didn’t say a word. You spineless limp cactus of a man.”
“Dom no say nothing neither.” Pedro managed an effort to defend himself.
“That’s no excuse! You weak. Pathetic. Moraless man." She lit her own fuse, "God must have given up on you at birth. That’s why you are cursed to work your whole life through and never keep a dollar to save your life.”
Pedro now said nothing in reply. And from the silence from the little abode Avery thought the disagreement and flair of temper was over. In reality, Pedro, having known this way of life for some years now had caught himself in a nasty web of argument. Where by defending himself he knew he was only inviting more abuse. But having already done it. He was hesitating to either say anything at all or find some reason outside himself for explaining why the world was round. His silence and hesitation backed his inclination to wait out the storm; and Josie sensed it immediately.
This time her voice issued out calm and sad, but this was just the blade for the poison: “God made you this way, I suppose, so I must accept your filthy ways and sin as the gift God gave to support me through this life of misery he’s blessed us with.”
Pedro sighed. Or exhaled from having held his breath.
“Oh, are you relieved?” Josie’s temper, baited itself, but loved the excuse of another’s weakness to prove it right, “Why? Why are you relieved? Do you think my acceptance of your trash makes me feel any better?” If Josie had been a drinker, Avery holding the burned out stump of a cigar, would have blamed liquor. He knew Josie had a temper, but generally she hid it in smiles and service, and only sometimes did it emerge occasionally as stinginess. But the wife of Pedro went on, her voice clamoring incredulous, as if someone dared claim the world was flat: “Do you ever care to think how I feel about these decisions you get to make on your own with my son? About anything? I have lost everything to you. I never thought you would be the cause of me losing my son. I know you never loved me. I know you had to.” She began to sob in her anger, but her voice indicated a wounded nobility of the speaker. Pedro sat motionless. Avery’s eyes drooped with the effect of a beer and a long day, only kept awake by the severity of Josie’s voice.
“You never did anything I want. YOU never cared about my life. You just take and take and take. I have nothing to give you anymore. Now that my son is out in the world and sowing his wild oats and making decisions that he can’t take back. I don’t even want anything from you anymore. I haven’t in all the years I’ve known you. But you’ve raised my son to be just like you. I bet you're proud. I bet you are proud he’s just like you. That he’s never going to get out of this desert waste of a town, racking up debt and obligation to every stinking person he knows as family. And that is Your doing. YOU never think about how I feel. YOU never think about my reputation to a husband who is everyone’s worthless tool, and who everyone is laughing up their sleeves at every time you can’t figure out a card game. YOU never think about me. I am married to the doormat of Keythos: But I REFUSE to be a doormat for any of them! Not Dom! Not Tom! AND NOT YOU!”
A door slammed and something rolled off the clay tile roof. Pedro paused a long time in silence by himself. Then without any warning blew out the lantern sat back in his chair and began to snore. The mind of the meek kept to itself; but the mind of anger lets all show. But who is really stronger? The one who could win and puts up no defense? Or the one screaming under the pressure that life will bring?
Avery shook himself awake to a silence that was better than the bad dream he shook himself from. But he was not in his bed. Still standing in the lane with cold ash draped across his knuckles he tossed the cigar aside and set out for home. The question that followed him were the predictable one’s.
Did Aunt Josie love Pedro? Did she ever? And this immediately lead to: Do all married people get like this? Avery did not know. How could he being a decade and a half old? He had never been married and his own mother had raised him having never had his father there to speak to much less fight with.
The title of father spoken by our children is the oddest and oldest. What it means is: our mother’s lover who began ourselves in her. But even without love we are begun. Even without the intent to have babies; we are all begat. Where the love falls is only clear by the man who begats. Having never met his father, having never had a lover, Avery thought of none of these things. To him, his father was assumed to have loved his mother and had only chosen her in the effort of obtaining the gem that was himself. But had, despite all excitement, had died tragically before they were able to meet.
So, to Avery, to see his best image of father to son he knew berated and chastised by the one who held the title of his wife; left him feeling twisted and wrong. As if he had witnessed a man walk up the wall and across the ceiling in the middle of the night. The law of love had been crossed, and the law of marriage was supposed to hold that up: but it did not. It had not. So was all marriage open to this contrivance of anti-love? Was it so simple that the wind of circumstance blow all life until, as a bare canyon, it’s only life is the shrill whistle from the flute of the dead?
Avery neared home, realizing now that his body ached. That all this time he had been oblivious, but in the first time of being alone he began to feel his limbs asking for rest. It began to mean more that his body ached than his emotive disturbings upon the subject of marriage.
And there on the porch waiting in the flicker of lantern light was his mother sitting up with her reading and patiently waiting her son’s return. She embraced him gently and quietly sent him to bed. And seeing that shortly after laying down the boy was fast asleep she smiled to herself.
The wide brown eyes of Elise spoke in a deep well of kindness. But with a kind of surrender to life. An ease by existence that somehow the worst of life was over and the remainder of mediocre pains that could come were nothing more than light conversation. And the joys of what remained? That is what her face found; in her tea, in her reading, in the choosing of meals for her and her son, in the matching of what to wear or the tactile feel of a particular weave of linen. But most of all she had seen it in the face of her husband. Who had been gone these long years. So naturally the next best thing was the face of her own son.
She was thin, probably too thin to be healthy. Her form was draped in fine clothes, and in a fine house but her face wore deep lines across her sorrowful cheeks. She was by no means a beauty. As her beauty was not in her skin or complexion, which was left scarred by pox, or in long hair, for she had gotten lice more than once and had cut it off. But the beauty was in her eyes lighting up. And somewhere in the recesses of her childhood she had made the connection to the joy in others and the joy that led from her heart and out her eyes. This would make man and woman swoon of heart for her. Because they seemed to feel what her eyes would emit.
But if one was not looking to her eyes than you would see a frail widow, of middling money, who looked sad and wore clothes that seemed large enough to sail her little frame away over the desert. And there still her eyes would glisten as she lay down to sleep. Something clean in the way her face would touch the sheets. It was the feeling of a small death overtaking her. Not in pursuit of our terror like we dream our ending pursues us, but to the drift and murmur and mercy of the eternal soaking away of our pains like a rush of perfect water.
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2021.10.24 09:51 ZoolShop The Touch Bar was a missed opportunity for the MacBook

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2021.10.24 09:51 Doughnut456 Happy Xmas

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2021.10.24 09:51 themo98 Flag of good taste in humor and music

Flag of good taste in humor and music submitted by themo98 to vexillologycirclejerk [link] [comments]


2021.10.24 09:51 Taranae23 Found some Pikmin hiding in the bushes

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2021.10.24 09:51 mxx333Qwerty1 这下斯大林了

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2021.10.24 09:51 corvidApocalypse First attempt at four strand braiding, how did it go?

First attempt at four strand braiding, how did it go? submitted by corvidApocalypse to Breadit [link] [comments]


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