I work as front desk in the sketchy part of town on night shift I've seen pretty much everything, and I know way more about the hotel systems than I wish I did, ask me whatever your hearts desire my friends.
Don't be surprised I reckon I have a quite "regular" life. I don't want to disclose too much Information, but YES my family is over 400 years old and we live in a castle (thats the only 'special' thing). People are just extremly interested when I tell them about this, so let's clear up some stereotypes.
Deleted TikTok, stopped watching Reels/Shorts and basically removed anything where I could scroll endlessly.
Did it because I realized I couldn't even watch a movie anymore without checking my phone every 10 minutes.
6 months later and the difference is bigger than I expected.
AMA. I'll answer everything.
Hi everyone, I was raised in a completely open, nudist household. My parents are swingers and clothes were never required at home. I’ve lived free around family, friends, and anyone else who happened to be there since I was a kid, it’s just how things have always been.
To me it’s completely normal, like breathing. No shame, no secrets, nothing hidden. Clothes are optional whenever I’m around people.
I’m 20 now and I’m still totally comfortable being naked in front of anyone who’s there. I’ve never hidden my body and I see zero reason to start now.
Ask me anything, no judgment, ever. I’ll answer honestly and openly.
Mod note: If this type of post doesn't belong in this sub, please let me know and I'll remove it. No issues at all.
No upvotes yet, do I need to bribe you guys with nudes of... my houseplants?
Good evening I’m Winter. I’m a 22 year old woman who was born completely blind and I’m English. I graduated from university last year and am currently looking for work. I use technology using screen reading software or a refreshable braille display
The rules were simple and mostly self-inflicted: never leave the Underground system, eat inside it, sleep inside it, wash inside it, visit every single station, and generally behave like a normal functioning human the entire time (no priority seats, no crossing the yellow line, tube etiquette at all times)
The official world record is 48 hours set by Ali White back in 2022, so the plan was 50.
Some other bits:
I got back from this about an hour ago and I still smell like a Piccadilly line seat cushion, so figure now's as good a time as any. Full video goes up September 4th. Until then... ask me anything!
About an hour ago, I got out of the shower, changed into new clothes, and the funny feeling started in about 10 seconds, I am currently still in pain after what appears to be 4-5 bites with quite a large swelling.
I consider myself a survivor, AMA.
My name is Dan and I was born in Norilsk and lived there for first 12 years. I lived not in Norilsk itself but in its district Talnakh, that is on a foot of a mountains. I heard that everyone calling Norilsk the most depressing city in whole world and I can understand why
I'm 27 now, and people still say "Oh, that makes sense" when I tell them I didn't go to school. I have never been to a full day of school in my life, although I went to a school-like summer camp for a few years.
To get a few things out of the way, I do not come from a religious family (although we are a little spiritual. My dad showed me how to read tarot cards), and my parents didn't use unschooling as a deliberate method of isolation or abuse. They sincerely thought it was the best way to raise us. I have one brother a year older than me who was also unschooled.
I've lived in Missouri my entire life, which is a homeschooling friendly state. First in Kansas City as a child, then when I was about 10 we moved to a large, undeveloped property about an hour outside of Springfield.
I'm open to answering anything!
Not sure if this is something people are curious about, but when my mom was pregnant with me she was asked if my growth could be monitored as part of a huge study (thousands of babies).
Every few years I get a bunch of tests done. I’ve had allergy tests, blood drawn, bone scans, ultra sounds of my heart. My brain activity has been measured, my breathing, stamina. Also mental state through a BUNCH of questionnaires and conversations with therapists. Even an MRI two times already (and a third one coming up). Plus a huge amount of other tests, but these are the ones that came to mind right now.
When I was a child I loved it because I thought it was really cool. Then I became a teenager and HATED it (i had to answer questions on a computer about the development of my boobs, something you are not comfortable with at 13 years old). Now that I am an adult I am mostly thankful for the very thorough check up I am able to get every few years.
Let me start by saying this is 100% real. Every detail. I'm posting this because my family has been sitting with this for a while now and honestly it needs to be said somewhere, by someone, because it's one of the wildest and most heartbreaking things I've ever watched unfold in real time.
Some background on my grandmother.
She grew up in a small town. Lived with her husband, three daughters, and son. Very religious household, high expectations, the whole deal. My grandfather was a decent man but not exactly warm, not the type to show a lot of affection or emotional availability toward his kids, or his wife. My grandmother carried that with her.
What she also carried with her was an obsession with social status. Even in a small town, she was always very aware of who was who, who had money, who had influence, and she made a point of being close to those people. It was just who she was. That instinct led to one of the darkest things in our family history, which I'll mention now because it matters for understanding her as a person.
There was a physician in the town, well-respected, well-off, exactly the kind of person my grandmother wanted to be associated with. She got close with him. What she either didn't know or chose not to acknowledge was that this man was sexually assaulting her own children during their checkups. Her kids tried to communicate it to her.
He would offer to “babysit” the kids. And it was far worse than that. The kids would wreck the room directly across from the entrance of the house, write signs on paper to the physician saying things like “I HATE YOU” and make sure they all slept together in his presence because of how scared they were of him, and what he’d do to them.
She didn't listen. She didn't stop taking them. Her relationship with this man mattered more.
Her kids carried that alone.
I'm not saying this to villainize her completely. But you need to know this about her, because the same pattern, choosing proximity to someone she wanted in her life over the wellbeing of her own family, shows up again decades later, and the consequences are almost as devastating.
Fast forward. My grandmother had a good life by most measures.
Her and my grandfather built a life together for around sixty years. Their kids grew up and became successful in their own ways. Grandkids came along. Then great-grandkids. Big family, lots of holidays, lots of family memories
.
My grandmother was still very much herself, still status-conscious, still wanted to be seen as important and indispensable. My grandfather understood that about her and mostly let it be. That's just what sixty years together looks like sometimes.
Then a new priest got assigned to my grandmother's church.
He was from India, in the U.S. on a work visa, and he was 30 years old. My grandmother decided immediately that she was going to be the one to help him get settled. And look, at first, this is genuinely fine. Kind, even. He's far from home, new to the country, new to the community. Someone taking him under their wing is a good thing.
But my grandmother doesn't do things halfway, and she doesn't do things without an angle.
She started bringing him everywhere. He showed up at family gatherings. At Thanksgiving, she insisted that everyone wear name tags because the priest "wasn't good with names." So there we all are, the entire family, sticking labels on our shirts to introduce ourselves to this man my grandmother had decided to adopt into our lives.
She mentioned him constantly. In conversations that had absolutely nothing to do with him, his name would just appear. It became a running thing that the family noticed but nobody wanted to address directly.
Then my cousin went to a festival.
My grandmother had of course invited the priest. And what my cousin and other family members witnessed there wasn't a grandmother being friendly with her parish priest. It was my grandmother and this 30-year-old man walking through the festival holding hands. Fingers interlocked. Comfortable. Easy.
That's not how you hold hands with your pastor.
The family started talking quietly among themselves. Nothing was said to my grandmother directly. Nobody wanted to be the one to light that match. But everyone had seen it, and everyone knew what they'd seen.
Then my grandfather got sick and was taken to the hospital by ambulance.The hospital was about 45 minutes away. My grandmother arrived two hours later. On top of this, she didn’t inform any family about the incident. No urgency whatsoever. In fact, there was so little urgency by her that my grandfather almost had to be airlifted to the hospital. It was one of her neighbors that informed the family of what was going on instead. Why did she have no urgency you might ask? She had been with the priest.
My grandfather eventually died. And what happened after that is where this story really becomes something else. My grandmother did not grieve. At least not visibly. Not even a little.
She handled the logistics, she arranged things, she kept moving. And any hope the family had that losing her husband of sixty years might pull her focus back to the people who actually loved her, that hope evaporated fast.
She became more obsessed with the priest, not less.
I went over to help her with some housework not long after my grandfather passed. She brought up the priest almost immediately, the way she always did. At some point she just looked at me and said:
"The rest of the family thinks I'm obsessed with him. And you know what: I am. They're upset about it for whatever reason, but I'm just not going to entertain any conversations with them about it. I love him."
Just said it. Flat out. No hesitation.
My cousins went over to my grandmother’s for lunch, which my grandmother had told him it was just her there. Well, she got there around the same time as my cousins and guess who was in the car with her. The priest.
This was one of the most awkward moments of all.
One way or another, the conversation amongst the group got onto being sick versus pretending to be sick. This is the point where my grandmother said to everyone that she doesn’t know how to fake being sick, and she turned to the priest and said, “But I do know how to gag” AND SHE PROCEEDED TO MAKE MULTIPLE GAGGING NOISES IN FRONT OF EVERYONE.
Here's where the money stuff starts.My grandfather's car was sitting unused after he died. One of my aunts reached out to my grandmother and asked if she'd be willing to sell it to one of the grandchildren who really needed a car badly. My grandmother said no. She sold it to a neighbor instead for around $5,000.
Questionable? Yes. But fine. It's her car.
About a week later, the priest left for a month-long vacation to Dubai and the Maldives. We're talking jet-skiing, scuba diving, skydiving — videos and photos of the whole thing. This man was living. On a priest's salary? Yeah right.
And if that wasn't enough, he contacted my cousin via FaceBook Messenger before the trip and asked if she wanted to join him. He told her to ask my grandmother for the money.
He was not subtle. He saw the family as a resource to be accessed through my grandmother, and he wasn't even trying to hide it that hard.
Christmas came. The first one after my grandfather died.
My aunts called my grandmother repeatedly in the weeks leading up to it. They asked her to come spend it with the family so she wouldn't be alone. She told them every time that she wanted to be alone.
My cousin, who lives in the same town, couldn't shake the feeling. On Christmas night she drove over to check on her. She pulled up and the house looked empty. No signs of life. She started to walk away.
Something inside her told her to turn around and go check again, and she looked through the window.
The priest was inside. He was lying between my grandmother's legs with his head on her chest.
My cousin stood there in full panic, got a short video of it, and immediately called my aunts.
After that, more things came out.
My grandmother had changed the priest's name in her phone to something else, some decoy name, as the family had started asking more questions. She'd thought ahead about that.
But we found messages. In one of them, the priest told my grandmother that the family would never figure out what was going on because we weren't smart enough to figure it out.
He was texting that to an old woman he was exploiting, talking about her family like that. And she kept those messages.
On top of these messages, there were other messages found that were a bit more strange. And yes, there definitely was some snooping going on. They would tell each other I love you frequently. My grandmother mentioned how he knows all of her “tickle spots” because she gave him “good practice.”
He had also been added to her Amazon account. She had bought him name-brand clothing. An Apple Watch. An iPhone. Priests are not supposed to accept gifts like this. They're also not supposed to be alone, unsupervised, with elderly women in private homes. He was there constantly.
She was also sending money to his siblings back in India. People she had never met. Across the ocean.
Eventually it all came out, and the priest had his priesthood revoked, and was sent back to India.
My grandmother blames her family for this entirely. In her mind, we took something from her. We ruined it.
She stopped talking to all of us.
The priest is in India now, posting videos of himself kayaking and laughing in fields somewhere, living his best life. My grandmother watches them. They still text. She's on the other side of the world from him in every sense, and she has chosen that over her own kids and grandkids.
A beautiful baby great-grandchild of hers was just born, and she has not reached out to see the baby, or check on the new addition either.
Before things fully fell apart, there was a big blowup where my grandmother actually admitted to the family that the relationship had been physical. She even went as far as admitting that physical things between the two were going on when my grandfather was alive and in the house.
And just to be clear, we also have very strong reason to believe this was going on well before my grandfather died. The timeline doesn't add up any other way.
I want to be clear about something, because I know how this could read.
We are not upset that an 87 year-old woman wanted companionship after losing her husband of sixty years. That's not the issue. Nobody in the family is sitting here saying she shouldn't have had something for herself after that loss.
The issue is that a 37 year-old man deliberately targeted a lonely, elderly woman through his position of religious trust, embedded himself into her life, accepted thousands of dollars in gifts, almost certainly took vacation money, had her sending cash to his family in another country, and texted her that her own family was too dumb to catch on.
That's not love. That's a con.
And my grandmother, who once looked the other way when her own children were being harmed because the person doing it was someone she wanted to be close to, she did the same thing again. Eighty years old, and the pattern held.
She won't speak to her family. In her words, she wishes to “detach” from the family as a whole. She would rather text a man on the other side of the world who was using her than sit across the table from the people who have loved her their whole lives.
Even with his priesthood revoked, and being across the world, she is still so manipulated by this man.
Some things don't resolve neatly. This is one of them.
Hi, guys!
I was born with spina bifida (t11 myelomeningocele), as well as hydrocephalus and a Chiari II malformation. My SB is quite severe - I was born well over a decade after prenatal closure was first pioneered, and a little after it became the standard of care - however, as I’m a twin, it was never available to me.
As a result of my disability, I can’t move or feel any part of my legs, as well as my lower core muscles.
Feel free to ask me anything!
EDIT: I’m in my early/mid teens - please remember that while asking me questions!
This happened about a year ago.
My sodium was the highest the doctors at my hospital ever seen, at sodium level 180 D:
Left me with extremely severe amnesia of both kind. Amnesia was so bad directly after my coma that I didnt even remember my parents D: Im still so blown away by that, never thought amnesia could get that bad.
Im currently back in the hospital now, I forget the reason that brought me back here. AMA!
Public defender for the last 10 years, and have handled everything from driving under the influence to murder 1. I’ve defended hundreds of people and am currently working to become death penalty qualified.
I only spend my summer time on my village, which is n Zonguldak/Devrek region. Im a 16 y.o teenager. You can ask me anything. Btw last night we are chased by a wolf with my friendsssssssssssssssssssss
Title’s self explanatory. Essentially, whenever I hop in the shower, my bathroom is entirely pitch black except for a small glow in the dark rubber ducky I have to provide some visual stimulation.
This is a serious post I swear!!
Edit: didn’t know so many people showered in the pitch black, most people I mention it to look at me like I’ve got 5 eyes 😅.
I’m in my early 30s and started cutting off my family members in my early 20s.
Basically, I began speaking up about some childhood abuse and my mother didn’t care. She stayed with my dad.
I cut off my dad. She stayed married to him. My only sibling took my mom’s side.
Initially, some of my family were angry with my mother for not getting a divorce. But after some years went by, they forgave her. Even though I didn’t.
And eventually the rest of my (extended) family went back to the way things used to be.
For the sake of my mental health, anyone connected to my mom had to eventually be cut off.
I live in Australia now, but my family tree is pretty crazy. My great great great grandfather was a sardar (tribal commander) fighting in the first anglo afghan war back in 1839. Later down the line my great grandfather was a ster genraal (General) during the third anglo afghan war in 1919. We have a ton of family history and stories saved from all these conflicts over the generations. Ask me anything!
Hello, I am a therapist, but not your therapist! Feel free to ask me anything and I will try my best to answer it. I have been a therapist since 2018 and have worked with many different populations. In my early career I worked with people who suffered severe mental illness and other co occurring conditions and now in my career I work with people who have a wide range of issues in a private practice setting! AMA
Hello, I wanted to post this on r/costco but felt it would just be taken down.
Before working here, I had never stepped foot into a costco. To many members, it's just shopping, but we see it all. It's a crazy, almost cult like world.
So ask me about the samples, the dirt, the drama, the frustrations. Ask me ANYTHING :)