Sonic the Hedgehog 2 - Official Poster (Trailer drops tomorrow at the Game Awards)

2021.12.08 11:05 SlashGames Sonic the Hedgehog 2 - Official Poster (Trailer drops tomorrow at the Game Awards)

Sonic the Hedgehog 2 - Official Poster (Trailer drops tomorrow at the Game Awards) submitted by SlashGames to boxoffice [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:05 lil-sara7 They're feeling lonely without your touch, do you want to do it? ♥️

They're feeling lonely without your touch, do you want to do it? ♥️ submitted by lil-sara7 to sendfeetpics [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:05 hushitsu A new basketball field

A new basketball field submitted by hushitsu to mildlyinfuriating [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:05 MadMasterMad This is how Doc meets the ladies. He's such a ham.

This is how Doc meets the ladies. He's such a ham. submitted by MadMasterMad to corgi [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:05 Upset-Pool4864 what frames fit someone with low and thick eyebrows?

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2021.12.08 11:05 cryptocalbot Add to your calendar Klaytn (KLAY) event: KuCoin Listing - December 8, 2021

Add to your calendar Klaytn (KLAY) event: KuCoin Listing - December 8, 2021 submitted by cryptocalbot to kryptocal [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:05 Old_Switch_1122 ¿ Existen la Libertad para el Ser Humano o es solo una Utopía ?

Vamos que pocas veces decides que hacer o que elegir, tu familia o la sociedad te va moldeando y dirigiendo a tomar decisiones que afecten y se acoplen al mundo que te rodea.
submitted by Old_Switch_1122 to preguntaleareddit [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:05 jmmkf My cruel world (Part 1)

My name is Sylvia Stan. I was born on October 31, 1964, in Arizona. My father was French with Romanian roots. My mother was American. I had an older brother named Nick. My father was a very strict and conservative man. I had behavioral and social problems from an early age: I had no friends, no boyfriend. My first love was the school bully George, but he didn't pay attention to me at all because I had a completely ordinary unremarkable appearance.
I was plain girl with a thin, almost boyish figure and 5'4" tall. I had dark brown thick hair of medium length (I think this is due to my Romanian-Gypsy roots), brown eyes and a little pale skin because I did not like walking in the fresh air. As a child, I had no interest in studying, drawing, or music. The only thing I loved was collecting little shiny stones that I was founding on the street when I was coming home from school. And I couldn't explain my strange craving for shiny objects in any way. There was something inexplicable and at the same time beautiful about it.
I wasn't liked by the school teachers, so I had to change three schools during my whole education period. My grades at school were average, I wasn't stupid, I was more of a lazy pupil. I graduated from high school in 1983, but I had no idea about choosing my future profession. My only favorite subject at school was physical education. I loved sports madly in high school. By nature, I was given the skills of agility, flexibility and fast running. So, in the summer of 1983 I plucked up the courage and went to my father. My goal was to inform him that I wanted to try myself in the profession of an aerobics coach or a physical education teacher. I had a huge hope that he would not mind and therefore would agree to it.
"Hey, Dad, I've decided who I'm going to be," I said timidly.
"I know that too. You're going to be a chemistry teacher," Dad replied.
"But... Dad," I said indignantly.
"Sylvia, you have to be an obedient girl. This is a wonderful profession! I wish you the best," He replied in an insistent voice.
I knew my father's strict nature too well, so I had to agree. It was a loss for me. It's impossible to try your hand at a profession that you don't like. But I had no way out of this situation. All the following days I was carefully studying the names of chemical elements, formulas and reaction chains under the watchful eye of my father.
I was praying to God for deliverance, and probably my prayers were answered. One evening, the phone rang in the living room. My father picked up the phone, listened to something with a serious expression on his face, said something like, "I'll definitely come up with something," hung up, then turned around and looked at me.
"Sylvia, your grandmother is seriously ill. She needs care. You should move in with her in Los Angeles," He said.
I cannot describe the full scope of my emotions when I heard these words. It meant only one thing: I would get out from under the watchful and all-seeing eye of my father.
"Oh... yeah. But what about my college admission?" I diligently pretended to be interested in my education.
"It's not a problem. You're going to California College."
My move to California was an unforgettable event. If you lived in Los Angeles, San Francisco or Sacramento in the 1980s, you should know what an amazing sight California was at that time. It was a magnificent combination of a riot of colors, palm trees, salty sea spray and fresh wind. On a sunny July morning, my father drove me to Los Angeles. The first thing I did in my new territory was to take a full breath of air. It was a completely different air; it was as if it was woven from freedom, recklessness and fun. I immediately wanted to go shopping, or even go to the beach. But besides the new freedom, I also had a new responsibility in the person of my grandmother.
My grandmother was 65 years old, and she was quite a cheerful old lady, but by the middle of the summer of 1983, she began to have health problems, and she needed help with the housework and care.
My father explained and told me about various medications, medical care and other similar things, and then took my things to the second floor of the house and left back to Arizona. And I was left alone with my grandmother. I really wanted to wander alone through the streets of California, so on the first day I left my grandmother unattended and went for a walk. I had so many plans, I wanted to find myself a huge number of friends, and then fall in love with some guy and run away with him to the end of the world. I didn't have a single thought about studying in my head. I got home early in the morning. I was very tired, but happy, and I was also damn sleepy.
"Where have you been all night, honey? I was so worried about you. Los Angeles is such a big city with so many dangers," Grandma asked me
"I was just taking a walk."
"Oh, I'm just worried about you."
"I have already realized that," I replied.
"Оh... okay. What are we having for breakfast?" Suddenly Grandma asked.
I wasn't prepared for such a question. I was too lazy to cook anything after such a long exhausting walk.
"Sorry, I didn't cook anything, but I promise I'll cook something tonight."
Then I left the room, went to my room, collapsed on the bed and fell asleep. My grandmother remained hungry. The next morning I did make her applesauce. Even though it was a very meager breakfast, she was still very grateful.
In the days that followed, I was busy preparing for college. Yes, I still managed to do it. Despite the fact that my name was last on the list, and the result was one of the worst, I was still happy about it. It meant only one thing: I could stay in California longer.
However, studying turned out to be much more difficult than I thought. I didn't have a conscientious attitude to my education. I literally hated every day of college. I hated my very smart and capable classmates, all the professors, technical staff, and even just passers-by on the street. Grandma was getting worse and worse. And I didn't understand why I had to take care of her while my peers were relaxing and having fun.
One day I ran away from class. I didn't want to go home, so I just walked down the street. Suddenly my attention was attracted by a man who was selling alcohol. I was dying to try alcohol to distract myself from bad thoughts, but I had no money. So I figured out where to get the money. I remembered that my grandmother had a jewelry box, so I decided, "Why does she need these jewelry? She's an old woman already." And I decided to steal them to exchange for alcohol later. I found the box on the table in the living room, opened it and was petrified with delight. The appearance of the jewelry made a great impression on me, although inside there were ordinary silver earrings, pearl beads and several bracelets made of ordinary beads. But there was a ring at the bottom of the box. I took out the ring and examined it. It was gold with a small blue stone. It had a wedding engraving on it. Yes, it was my grandmother's wedding ring, and I stole it.
"Ha, well, you're either the most zealous drunk in the world, or you're just kidding. This ring is very expensive. You stole this ring, didn't you?" Тhe salesman asked me.
"It's none of your business! Can you just sell me a bottle of whiskey?" I replied with anger in my voice.
The salesman looked at me strangely, put the ring in his pocket, took the largest bottle of whiskey out of the refrigerator and silently handed it to me. This was my first taste of such a drink. I really liked it. That night I came home very late and immediately went to bed, but I couldn't fall asleep.
But there was one strange thing that I still couldn't explain. Why did I react this way to the jewelry in the box? My brain desperately wanted an answer to this unusual question, but could not get it. I was dreaming of jewels, precious stones, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies. My drunken hallucinations were in the guise of creepy monsters, evil dwarves from fairy tales and ghosts. They were reaching out to me with their nasty hands from all corners of my bedroom in the hope of taking my jewelry. In the morning I realized only two things: I have a craving for theft, and drinking alcohol in large quantities is a bad idea. I got out of bed with a heavy hangover and went to my grandmother's room, but as soon as I opened the door, I saw her lifeless body. That's how I first encountered human death.
My mother arranged the funeral. My father didn't come to California because he was very busy at work. With my mom came Mrs. Leslie (her friend) who helped her organize the funeral. She was a huge, burly, middle-aged blonde, and compared to her, my skinny, short mother was an insignificant bug. My mom and I had guesses that Leslie might be my father's mistress, or at least he likes her, but my mom didn't have the courage to say her assumptions out loud and demand answers from him.
The evening after the funeral, my mom, Leslie and I were washing dishes in the kitchen.
"Your late mother had a huge house. Sylvia will be living here alone now, right? It will be difficult for her to manage the entire household. Come on, I'll live here with her. I'm on vacation anyway, and Arizona is boring this time of year, you know," Leslie said, looking around the kitchen.
"Oh, that's so thoughtful of you. But I think Sylvia can handle it on her own," Mom replied.
"Rebecca, listen to me, the girl needs to recover after the death of her grandmother. I will be by her side as a moral support."
In the end, Mom agreed to this and a couple of days later left back to Arizona. I started living with Leslie. She was really helping me and supporting me. But only in the first days. Then one day she brought a man into the house and locked herself in the bedroom with him. The next day she brought another man, and the day after that she threw her first party. I didn't mind the fun, but the loud music was annoying me. Her lovers were very dubious personalities, and it was in those last days of summer that I began to notice the first oddities.
Someone was following me... I was hearing about such things from crime TV shows and cool action movies recorded on VHS cassettes that my older brother loved madly; I was reading about it in crime novels and in newspapers, but I couldn't even imagine that something like this would happen to me.
It all started with a simple note that I found in my bag. It was a small crumpled piece of paper that I almost threw in the trash, but it caught my attention. Unfolding the piece of paper, I saw on it a neat handwriting and just one sentence, "You have beautiful legs." No matter how absurd and ridiculous it may sound, but it was the first compliment in my life, even if it was written on a crumpled piece of paper by a stranger. I even went to the mirror in my room, lifted my skirt slightly and looked at my legs, but I, by my beauty standards, had ordinary and very short legs. I decided that I had a secret admirer and therefore was not afraid at first. But I had some doubt that he was my classmate, since I had a rather bad relationship with the guys at the university. Although, it is quite possible that he could have studied in another course, or even in some high school.
However, a few days later I noticed a blue car at my house. I had never seen this car before, so I asked Leslie if this car could belong to one of her men, but she didn't give me a clear answer, my relationship with her deteriorated.
When I left home and went to college, which was not far from my late grandmother's house, this damn car followed right behind me. And this was already too strange a coincidence. All day I was thinking about it and trying to calm myself down. I was looking for any arguments, just not to think about the bad. It is quite possible that this is some kind of fan, but how does he have access to my bag and a driver's license if he is some kind of schoolboy.
But most importantly, how does he know where I live? Sitting in class and listening to the tedious and monotonous speech of Mr. Lewis, who was twice as old as our college in his appearance, and this is at best, I was thinking only about my new admirer (if that was what you could call him).
"Sylvia, aren't you listening to me again? This is disrespectful!" Mr. Lewis's voice sounded.
I shuddered, tore my gaze from the table and raised it to the professor. I heard the vile laughter of my classmates calling me.
"I'm sorry, it seemed to you. I was listening to you carefully," I replied in a fake voice. The least I wanted to do at this moment was to anger this eccentric professor.
"Great! If you was listening to me so well, then please repeat the last words I said from the lecture."
That was the end. Thinking about my secret admirer, I didn't remember a single word about chemical elements or any other terms that Mr. Lewis was trying to explain to us.
"Uh... well..." It's the only thing I was able to say at that moment. The whole class exploded with laughter. I felt awkward.
"Well, young lady, I'm flattered by your level of knowledge," the professor said, and then continued after a second. "You are late for classes, you cannot communicate normally with your classmates, and your grades leave much to be desired. I think it's time for me to call your father and let him know..."
"No! No need! I'll get better, honestly," I panicked.
"Good. Let's say I believed you," He said.
However, the promise not to call my father and not to tell him about my "great" successes in college did not bring relief. I was still thinking about the strange car and the note.
At noon, immediately after classes, it started to rain. By an unfortunate coincidence, I forgot my umbrella at home, so I just had to cover my head and shoulders with my favorite denim jacket and run home in a torrential downpour. But as soon as I walked out on the threshold of the college, I immediately saw the same blue car in the parking lot 30 feet away from me. I became insanely scared. What's on this idiot's mind? Why did he need me? Was he really just standing and waiting for me in the parking lot all these hours?
It started raining harder, and I went outside the university and quickly ran along the paved path to my house, but I couldn't do it because of the high heels that I liked to wear because of the complex about my short height. And I was terribly hampering by my heavy bag of textbooks, which I was holding in my right hand.
I quickened my pace and almost broke my legs because of my shoes, but the car didn't stop; it still followed me slowly and steadily, as if mocking me and saying, "Hey, look, you can't run away from me." In front of me, I was seeing only two glowing red reflections of headlights in puddles of water.
I ran home in 5 minutes, although my usual journey took about 10 minutes, got soaked to the skin and twisted my left leg a little. I ran inside, locked the door. Then I bolted the door, threw the bag near the door, closed the curtains in the living room and sat down on the sofa. My heart was pounding fast. At that moment, I didn't care at all about the fact that with the help of my clothes, you can water a flower bed. The house was unusually quiet and dark, because of the rain and a strong thunderstorm on the streets. Leslie wasn't at home, she probably went to the store and decided to wait out the bad weather there.
There was another thunderclap, and I cowered on the couch in fright. Suddenly I had the idea to look out the window and see if the car was there. In any case, in such a strong thunderstorm, only a desperate daredevil will sit in the car and not be afraid of the possibility of getting an electric discharge.
I slowly got up and went to the window, hesitated for a second, and then slightly opened the edge of the curtain and looked out. The damn car was still there! Right outside my house. But this time I had a good hiding place, the door to the house was strong enough, and I could have called the police at any second, so I decided to watch a little.
With another flash of lightning, I saw that the driver was a man, probably middle-aged, or so. In this case, the option with a strange schoolboy, or a teenager who stole cars from his father and began to follow the girl he liked disappeared.
I continued to follow him. He was just sitting in the car, doing nothing, looking at my house. But the next second he turned on the headlights of the car, which shone brightly right through my window. It only lasted a moment, I don't think he was looking at me, but he could catch the movement of the curtains. Whoever he was, he knew that I was inside the house, and that I was completely alone.
I quickly jumped away from the window and ran up the stairs. Running inside, I immediately closed the doors and hid in the farthest dark corner between the bed and the closet, wrapped in a blanket. I had to cover my ears with my hands so as not to hear the thunder, which I was also afraid of.
I don't know how much time has passed, but I was brought out of my stupor by a strong knock on the door and an indignant female scream. It was Leslie. I slowly got up, left the room and went down to the first floor to open the door for her. The rain had already begun to subside.
I noticed for myself that no one tried to get into the house, all the windows and doors were locked, and there were no traces on the carpet that should have remained if this someone had got inside, since it was raining heavily outside and there was dirt.
"Sylvia, are you out of your mind? Why did you bolt the door?" She was indignant, entering and throwing a wet purple umbrella on the floor, and then starting to take off her soaked coat, the same purple color as the umbrella. This color was her favorite color.
"It was the same blue car! I've already told you about her!" I replied with emotion in my voice.
"Are you talking about that car again? I was just outside and didn't notice any blue car."
"Why would I lie? Someone is following me, and a couple of days ago I received a strange note."
"And what did it say?" Leslie asked me.
"Um, it said I have beautiful legs."
"Well, you got the most flattering maniac on this planet," Leslie burst out laughing, and then calmed down and spoke calmly."Put your childish games out of your head. You must be suffering so much from the lack of male attention that you started inventing secret worshippers for yourself."
"Well, I'm glad that you have plenty of male attention here. Does your husband in Arizona know what you're doing here?" I asked sarcastically.
It had a wonderful effect on her; her fat face even turned purple with anger.
"You don't dare tell him! Or I'll tell your father a lot about you," She hissed, grabbing my hand.
"Ah! Let go of my hand! Okay, I'll keep quiet," I squealed.
"Fine. Now help me sort out my purchases. In case you haven't forgotten, it's my birthday this Sunday. And I want to invite guests," She said and went into the kitchen.
I took the heavy bags and dragged them after her, noticing that she had bought a lot of bottles of alcohol again. So it won't be a birthday, but another noisy party, in the morning after which I will fall off my feet from fatigue in college.
I put the bags and bags on the table and started taking out groceries. Meanwhile, Leslie didn't even bother to help me, lighting a cigarette and sitting on a chair.
"Oh, I forgot my umbrella in the corridor," She suddenly said, then got up and went into the hallway and brought the umbrella to the kitchen, opening it so that it dried from water drops.
Meanwhile, I finished sorting out the bags and only now remembered that I was still partially wet clothes.
"Sorry, I need to change," I said to Leslie, left the kitchen, picked up my bag, which has was lying at the front door, and went up to my bedroom.
Most of all, I was afraid of colds and hypothermia, but I think I was saved by the blanket I wrapped myself in when I was hiding from a real, or maybe an imaginary pursuer. I even started to think myself that it was all a game of my mind, and the note could well have been planted by one of the guys I know, and the car could have been a strange coincidence or the entertainment of my classmates, who probably wanted to take revenge on me for something.
After wiping my body and changing into a bathrobe, I decided to dry the soaked textbooks and notebooks in my bag. I took out a textbook on organic chemistry, a textbook on the history of great chemical discoveries, a methodical manual on laboratory experiments, a stack of notebooks, pens, pencils. The supplies were dry. But there was something else at the bottom of the bag... It was a small crumpled note, just like the first note. I took it with trembling hands, unfolded it and read, "Next time, open the curtains. I want to look at you again..."
submitted by jmmkf to nosleep [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:05 blackcherry71411 Whiplash Injury Physical Therapy KIRKLAND

How do chiropractors help in whiplash treatment in the Kirkland area? (

Whiplash is an injury in which your head is whipped out from front to back. It generally happens when you met with an auto accident. It mostly goes undetected by an individual in the accident but can cause other injuries like disc bulges, damage to nerves, subluxations, etc.

Chiropractors are experts that are trained in fixing spines including whiplash injuries. After a thorough examination, the doctor will put together a treatment plan so that you achieve maximum results. Safe adjustments and procedures are conducted to re-train your muscles, tendons, and ligaments to make sure you start functioning at a high level.

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2021.12.08 11:05 Quitmamamiya looking for people to join a modded server

hey every. i am trying to find someone that can join the modded minecraft servers. we have a discord server too! we also have R.A.D. anime packs. mc eternal and medevil minecraft! if you wanna join it add me in discord and i will send you link. sidali21#1372
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2021.12.08 11:05 RepublicofNigercrew The Republic Of Niger Is Recruits The Newest Of Da Soldier, TANKS!!

The Republic Of Niger Is Recruits The Newest Of Da Soldier, TANKS!! submitted by RepublicofNigercrew to RedDeadCrews [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:05 R0DAN WWE's first class of NILs

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2021.12.08 11:05 Lukimuz FREE ticket for Stade Rennais game [9/12/21]

Unfortunately, I'm unable to attend the game tomorrow so happy to give my ticket to someone who can make it.
It's in block 101 and has a pretty decent view. First come first serve etc. You'll need to print it out before going!
This site gives an indication of the view in each block
submitted by Lukimuz to coys [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:05 ultimatecarfreak 2011 M37 Transmission filter

I need to change the fluid in my transmission. I am trying to find the filter for it, but I have not found it. Is it the exact same transmission laid out exaclty the same as the G37? Everytime I go to find one, every site says the filter is not compatible with the M37. Help please.
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2021.12.08 11:05 Technical-Theory-494 I wanna say the n word

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2021.12.08 11:05 OkProgress1 Do I need the EMT certification?

I’m in my gap year right now working to get more clinical hours. I hit the minimum this coming February. But I feel like the hours that I have from work are a sham. I work as a “medical assistant” at a pediatrician office, but honestly I’m more of a receptionist making appointments and answering parents questions. And all of the patient interaction I do have, the vitals (like BP) are automated/done by a machine. I also volunteer as an EMT. My job title is “observer” cause I don’t have my certification. When the situation is right I manually take the BP and put on the pulse ox. I help to move the patient. But that’s the extent of it. Recently my squad offered me a seat to get my EMT certification. I’ve heard from other EMTs that it’s a intense course that’s easy to fall behind. I don’t know if it’s worth it cause on top of that 6mo course, I work 40hrs/wk, need to take anatomy and anatomy lab this spring, and planning on taking the GRE a month into when the course already has started. And I have to maintain relationships. So I feel like everything will be too much. But I also feel the need to get my certification so that I can do more on the job and actually feel like my clinical hours are legit and real and that I actually did something.
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2021.12.08 11:05 DankestTaco My wrist after a cast for 2+ months - just put a cast over your beard!

My wrist after a cast for 2+ months - just put a cast over your beard! submitted by DankestTaco to Minoxbeards [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:04 anya4204 hope i convinced ya!

hope i convinced ya! submitted by anya4204 to QueerWomenOfColor [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:04 LuckyLatte Commuting Advice?

Hi everyone! Long time lurker. I’m currently situated in Northbrook/Wheeling/Mt. Prospect, but I am planning on accepting a job in Chicago (Lincoln Park area). Does anyone have any tips on commuting? Pros and cons of driving vs CTA? I’m not super familiar with the CTA system so I’m a little worried about using it and figuring out how it works. Any advice would be helpful!! Thank you!
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submitted by KhitanMaps to REDDITTBAY [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:04 Throwitaway8aa8 Bonney Gull - Built in the 1920s this aircraft crashed on its first flight in 1928 and killed its inventor Leonard Warden Bonney who was at the controls.

Bonney Gull - Built in the 1920s this aircraft crashed on its first flight in 1928 and killed its inventor Leonard Warden Bonney who was at the controls. submitted by Throwitaway8aa8 to WeirdWings [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:04 RhaeXgar203 Asked the GME melts on how much they lost shorting gme 😂😂

submitted by RhaeXgar203 to GME [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:04 HJenkinsRSN AEW Star Jack Evans Says He's Being Extorted By Mexican Police

AEW Star Jack Evans Says He's Being Extorted By Mexican Police submitted by HJenkinsRSN to ringsidenewscom [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:04 Subject-Psychology44 Such a good song but just 3k views. Watched it once and now I am addicted to it.

Such a good song but just 3k views. Watched it once and now I am addicted to it. submitted by Subject-Psychology44 to kolkata [link] [comments]

2021.12.08 11:04 Gloomy_Miilk Sweet as sugar

submitted by Gloomy_Miilk to OriginalCharacters [link] [comments]