2021.10.26 01:44 jokelaugher Camistry.io CEX token was up 100% yesterday and now 200% today! Over $2 mill market cap and only 4 days since launch!!!
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2021.10.26 01:44 stormy001 Olympic Council of Malaysia open to bidding for Commonwealth Games in future
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2021.10.26 01:44 Look-at-the-FORCE Late Day 18 through 25
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2021.10.26 01:44 Imbricus Unsold Kraken Tickets
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2021.10.26 01:44 I_have_Reddit_All Can someone help me understand wtf Betterman is supposed to be about? (BETTERMAN Spoilers)
Ok, so I just finished Betterman like an hour ago and man, I'm wracking my brain to really understand what the show is trying to "say". Usually there's a core theme of the show or "Goal" the MC strives for but like, hell if I know what it is. (I guess the mystery is the core focus of the show I guess, but even then, the answers they give are somehow too wordy and vague at the same time?
Don't get me wrong, the show had its neat moments and I don't really have any "major" critiques, but I also don't really have much to say about it either. it was the epitome of a "5/10" anime, not good but not bad either.
Also is it me or did the MC and the titular "Betterman" like, not interact in a meaningful way at all?
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2021.10.26 01:44 silascole8 The Journey of Humanity
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2021.10.26 01:44 MasterGandalf28 Stinky
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2021.10.26 01:44 Ramtide Osgood Moves In : Pt5. The Wizard's Tournament
ReddX, greatest, subscribe, etc.
Ramtidings, dear friends! It is I, your dutiful lord and master, the eternal GM. Where last we parted ways, the pheromonal spell of La Ogra has entrapped my dear friend Osgood. Mired now in the amorous trappings of a duplicitous legbeard, I swore to myself an oath, that come hell or highwater, I would break the hold that she exercised over my dear friend. In a desperate gambit, I concocted a plan to try and break him loose from her clutches. I set out into the world to find the fabled manic pixie dreamgirl, the one for whom Osgood's desire set this whole conundrum in motion. With solemn purpose, I found myself back at the LGS where this situation began, and took a seat in the draft pool wherein she was set to play. Numerous neckbeards dripped bitterness and envy as I dared to make friendly and polite conversation with her, all in a desperate ploy to see if I could not will the very heavens and earth to align in such a way that her path might cross with the lost soul known as Osgood Bowles. It's Friday night. Do you believe in Magic? Let us waste no more time and delve directly into this TAAAAAALE FROM THE TABLETOP.
Just got here for the first time? ReddX can fill you in on the story so far, found at the following links.
Making Neckbeards Cry, A Family Story: https://youtu.be/4E4Yc8u5Cb4
Shaving of the Beard pt. 1 - https://youtu.be/dhDoYzWrrdM
Shaving of the Beard pt. 2 - https://youtu.be/zO4tNhObws8
Shaving of the Beard pt. 3 - https://youtu.be/-\_EIHDTnGY0
Shaving of the Beard pt. 4 - https://youtu.be/3VE8F_0-IQ0
There's always one who's late to the party and doesn't seem to get the point. Neckbeards are gross. Legbears aren't any better. Uncomfortable discussions and situations are known to arise. You have been warned. Twice now.
The rustling of shedding foil filled the den of mages like the rustling of so many spellbooks. With great ceremony, I opened the booster pack I held in my hands and thumbed over the mystical cards contained within. Admittedly, I wasn't a noob at Magic - I had played many times before and knew very well what I was doing - but tonight, I was to pretend I was the greenest of the greenhorns, lost and confused in the presence of champions. That still didn't mean I wasn't going to pick out some good stuff to give to Osgood or his manic pixie dreamgirl later when this whole horror show with La Ogra had come to its conclusion. One by one I chose my spells, and passed the remaining cards when the grand sage of the comic book shop called out to the masses to "pass". This process repeated a multitude of times until every aspiring sorcerer held within their hands the armaments he believed he needed to slay his opposition. It was at that time that I leaned in across the table to the waifu across from me.
Ramtide: Did ya get anything good?
MPDG: Nah, nothing I was hoping to get. How about you? Any good pulls?
Ramtide: I don't really know. Like I said, I just started playing. I'm totally new to this draft business. Honestly, I don't even know how to build for this type of game. I'm probably gonna get wrecked, but that's okay. I got some cool stuff in my favorite colors I think I'm gonna play with, so it's all good. Wanna see?
A nasal voice scoffed through the cheese dust that encrusted its throat beside me. I looked out of the corner of my eye to the bearded man on my left, who ran his fingers through his greasy long locks of hair with self-perceived authority. The games hadn't even begun, and he was already trying to foil me with his devastating arcane conundrums.
Greaseball: Uh, excuse me. This is a competition. Showing one of your potential opponents your cards would give them an unfair advantage if they happen to play against you.
Two other mages at the table nodded in solemn agreement, one adjusting his thick bottle glasses on the bridge of his nose, and the other furtively adjusting the strap of a single glove on his left hand. I needed to build reputation with the pixie across the table from me, and true to every orbiter ever, they were already taking their steps to impose their girth between me and her. I chuckled, and made my retort, aiming my counterspell directly at the forked bolt that shot towards my head.
Ramtide: Yeah, but what are the odds of that really, bro? Think about it. Look how many people there are in the shop tonight. Besides, I'm a total noob. I'm gonna get stomped anyways. It's just a game. We're all here to have fun, right? There isn't any harm if a couple of the less capable combatants pool their skill.
I smiled broadly back at the pixie across the table and she voiced her agreement, telling the nerd beside me to calm down. A Greybeard at the far end of the table chimed in out of nowhere, surprisingly voicing his support on my proposition. "There's nothing in the rules saying we can't help each other build our decks. You can even ask the judge about it. It's fair play."
Greaseball choked back more cheesy phlegm in his respiratory passages as I stood up and moved across the table to where the one-gloved wonderchild sat beside the pixie, and I asked him to get up so the pixie and I could help each other build decks. This fearsome general had also been outmaneuvered, and begrudgingly, he fidgeted with his strap as he got up from beside the m'lady whom he orbited. I took the seat beside her, trying not to grimace as I sat in the slick, sweaty seat he had left behind. We laid our cards out on the table, and went over each others repertoire of cantrips, preparing ourselves for the coming battle.
I knew what I had drawn, and I knew that it wasn't the worst pile of cards in the world. A coherent deck could be formed out of it no matter what. I showed her my draws, and took every scrap of advice she gave me on putting it together, taking time to remark how knowledgeable she was about the game, complement her on her strategic oversight, and feign excitement at all the nerds I was prepared to slay. I then looked at her draws, and offered my input on her build as well, albeit with much less insistence that she heed my advice. Since we had entered into deck building as a team exercise, it admittedly took much longer to complete them both than it would have had we done the constructions on our own, and Greaseball, Bottlebeard, and The Glove took the opportunity to hover over us and to impose and criticize every suggestion I made to the pixie. These fearsome three stood in my way between successfully bringing her back to my house to meet Osgood, and just for a moment, my temper flared and I envisioned myself standing up and breaking a chair over each of their heads in a fit of rage. However, I bit my tongue, did my best to feign cheer and good will once more, and I took their scathing criticisms in stride, remarking about how much I appreciated their insight into the mechanics of the game.
With our decks built, I turned to the pixie. We exchanged wishes of good luck in our battles tonight, and I told her I'd let her know how her deck build did, and she replied in kind. Perfect. Social interaction was gauranteed to continue. There was nothing left now but to play the game and rendezvous with her in the end, to nurse this fledgeling friendship to fruition, and to bring her back to Osgood. The overseer of the tournament then called that the first matches had been posted, and I went over to to see who I was up again. After some fumbling around, I found myself squaring off against Greaseball.
I sidled into a chair directly across from him. M'lady had been called off to some corner far out of earshot from where we now sat, and he leaned in across the table, his phlegm rattling deep within his trachea, and he remarked in his nasal voice, "I know what you're doing." I was taken aback. I feigned my shock, and then remarked "what am I doing?"
Greaseball: You came in here out of nowhere and beelined straight to where M'lady sat. I saw your cards, I know what you're playing, and those pulls aren't newbie pulls. You know what you're doing, and you're playing innocent and stupid to try and get near her. It's not going to work, though. First, I'm going to crush you right here at the table. Then I'm gonna expose your plan to M'lady and crush your chances with her. Then I'm going to win her over with my superior Magic knowledge. M'lady will be mine by the end of the night. GG no RE, scrub.
I wanted to laugh in his face. I wondered if an encyclopedic knowledge of MTG was what really made panties drop. Then, I recounted my real strategy in my head. I had planned on losing catastrophically to every opponent I played tonight. I wanted my final match up to be against M'lady, and if she always lost, as she swore up and down that she did, my best bet was to simply lose against everyone in hopes that I would get seated at the final table with her. Then, we could play a friendly game and continue to draw up the social contract upon which I needed her to sign. I had to keep the interaction going, as much as I hated it, as much as I wanted to pack up and run back to my house and never deal with another soul again, as mentally and spiritually exhausted as I would be after this night came to a close. It was all besides the point. I didn't play tonight for my own amusement. I played tonight to bring the pixie back to Osgood. I played tonight to foil La Ogra once and for all.
Ramtide: That's a pretty bold conspiracy theory. I mean, you probably are gonna steamroll me, though, and that's okay. I know I'm nowhere near the master-class wizard that you are. I'm just a noob, bro. Take it easy on me, huh?
He leaned back in his seat, the gurgling deep within his windpipe telling me he could see through my ruse, but only so far. He knew I was playing coy, but to what end, he was still clueless. Only his petty jealousy could offer him insight, however wrong it may be. I cut the deck and slid the cards back to him as he did the same, and our games began in earnest. I did not even try to win as our battle commenced. I purposefully mulligan'd down to small hands that would set me well behind the curve of the game, and as predicted, he gloated, lording his superior skill at a children's collectible card game over me. I had met my match to be certain. The slip was filled out in a matter of minutes - 2 losses, no wins - and it was turned in to the grand overseer of the tournament.
I stood up from the table, thanking Greaseball for the matches, extending my hand in a friendly shake, hoping to earn some brownie points with that spiteful slime, hoping that he might reconsider the bold strategy he had formed which he revealed to me. He did not have any inclination to shake, however, and disappeared into the bowels of the shop. I roamed around, searching for the pixie who was deep into a match with the Greybeard from our first table. She had already lost once, and was on track to be obliterated a second time by the aging manchild before her. I smiled as I approached their table and watched the last few plays of the match in silence, offering some encouraging words to the sorceress, but to no avail as she was slain by her opponent. Their slip, too, was filled out, and turned in to the overseer of the tournament. I paused, and we talked for a bit about how her match went, wherein she remarked that her deck just wasn't that good, and she was considering just taking her cards and calling it a night.
Ramtide: Where's the fun in that? You built two decks tonight, ya know. Try this one out. It didn't work for me, but maybe you'll get it running.
I extended my cards to her, hoping she would take the trade. It would keep her around, and serve as one further excuse to socialize after our next round concluded. She hesitated for a moment - was this allowed? - before I remarked that variety is the spice of life and it was just a game, after all. What harm could come of it? It was at that moment as I stood there offering the deck of cards I held in my hand however, that I heard the telltale waddling of someone coming up behind me.
Greaseball: M'lady, I have to interject.
The pixie and I paused and turned to face him. A cold look of anger had descended upon her face as she gauged up the acne-faced nerd who fidgeted with his oily skullcap. There was history written in the facial expression of the dream girl, albeit entirely unspoken, and tonight, I would be privvy to a little bit of it.
MPDG: What do you want, Greaseball?
Greaseball: This scoundrel is trying to fool you with a cunning ruse. He is no noob. I looked at his deck when you built it. He's played this game before. He's simply using it as an excuse to try and get with M'lady. Is that the kind of man you want to associate with? One who lies to you? I gaurantee you if he'll lie to you, he'll treat you much worse. At least I know how to be a gentleman. Get with me. I won't treat you like shit, and I know everything about the recent Magic meta.
The pixie buried her face in her hands, an exasperated sigh ascending to the vaulted ceiling of the LGS, She shook her head before pulling her hands away, her eyes locked upon the malodorous mage before her.
MPDG: Greaseball, for the last time. No. I'm not interested in you. I've told you multiple times, I have a boyfriend.
Greaseball: Then where is he? It's not chivalrous to allow M'lady out of her house without a male chaperone. Clearly, he doesn't care about you very much either if he isn't here. If you were with me, I would never let you out of my sight, let alone leave you to suffer the approach of these... lesser specimens.
MPDG: I don't care, Greaseball. Leave me the Hell alone, okay?
Greaseball began to interject once more, and I stepped between him and up into his chest, looking down the bridge of my nose and shaking my head. He moved to disengage, but not before spitefully remarking that she was a stupid whore and I was a disgusting manipulator and an abuser.
As he walked away, I turned back to the pixie behind me, remarking that it must not be easy to be a girl at the LGS, to which she replied "if only you knew." I knew. I had undergone these trials before - with Ada and Adelaide - and quietly remarked that I could empathize. I have seen horrors, the likes of which you would not believe. She paused, then and there, as we stood in the middle of that hall, withering the bitter stares of several orbiting neckbeards, a new curiosity engraving itself into her face.
MPDG: So... I know that guy will say anything he thinks will get him into my pants, but he said something and it's got me wondering. Are you actually a newbie, or are you just trying to buddy up to me, too? Is this your thing - finding girls at the gameshop and acting all stupid just so you can get close to them and take your shot with them?
I took a deep breath. I had been put on notice. I could continue to keep up my charade, but after being put to task so bluntly, I found myself wondering if such a course of action was wise. If she found out at any moment from this discussion on that I was indeed legitimately pulling a fast one on her, then all bets were off, and her path would never cross again with Osgood's. I decided that the only weapon I had left in my arsenal to wield was the simple truth.
Ramtide: I'm not a newbie. I'm trying to buddy up to you.
MPDG: So you're a pig.
Ramtide: I don't want to fuck you, either. That's not the point.
MPDG: Then what the Hell is the point?
Ramtide: I have a friend. He developed a huge crush on you, and asked me to help him get with you. Well, I did. He broke a lot of bad habits, grew a lot over a real short period of time, and then he came out to one Friday Night Magic to come and talk to you, except he never made it that far. He ended up wooing some cradle-robbing hambeast who is making my life miserable, and unbeknownst to him, his life miserable too. I had this stupid idea that if I could get your path to cross with his, he'd remember why he went through all of the shit he did in the first place, lose interest in the bitch who's got him ensnared, and we could go back to life as normal. It's shitty and manipulative of me, absolutely yes, but I can't just leave him with her. The situation is out of control. You honestly don't even know how bad it is.
MPDG: Dude, I have a boyfriend. I can't ---
Ramtide: I don't care if you have one or not. You don't have to fuck him. Just show up. You probably won't even have to pretend you're interested him, but if you did, that'd be a huge help. Just, please, fucking help me. I can't just let him carry on with her.
MPDG: So let me get this straight... you help your friend to learn how to talk to women. He gets one. He's happy with his decision. And now you're here trying to recruit me to drive a wedge between them? That's really shitty.
Ramtide: You don't know her!
MPDG: I don't need to know her. If he's happy about it, then let him enjoy it, for Christ's sake. If he's not, he'll figure it out on his own time and break up with her. It's not my fucking job to go out of my way to help him. I'm so sick of every single guy coming at me trying to get me to fix their fucking problems. You made this mess. You can clean it up. It's literally not my fucking problem.
Ramtide: What do you want? Money? I'll pay you. I got like 200 bucks in my wallet. I'll give it to you right now. You want me to beat up Greaseball? I'll do it right now, I don't care. Name it. Whatever you want, it's yours. Just help me out here.
MPDG: I don't want anything from you. You're a piece of shit. Fuck off.
Rome was burning. The barbarians had broken through the gates. My home was pillaged - my lands salted. I could smell smoke and taste blood, and I stewed in the agonizing realization that reinforcements would not come. The pixie flipped me the bird and then disappeared into the thronging crowd of wizards eager to continue their tournament. I stood in the middle of that room as the next list of contenders were posted, and rather than return to the lineups, I headed for the door. I made my way down the streets and back towards my house.
I paused on the landing, haunted by the words of the pixie. "You're a piece of shit." It stung at me, stirring up the memories of Osgood villifying me only so many nights ago. Was I being a piece of shit? Was the role of villain that had been assigned to me the shoe that fit my feet? I mused for just a moment that perhaps, maybe things weren't as bad as I was making them out to be. Osgood definitely seemed happy with La Ogra. He would learn in due time that she was not good for him and part ways with her, or he would not learn they were bad for each other at all and they would simply live happily ever after. Were either of those outcomes so bad?
I delivered a vicious slap to my own face that echoed through the courtyard of the apartment complex. I had lost the battle, but the war was still far from over. Somewhere, up in that apartment, my dearest friend furtively, willingly shoved his weiner into a manpulative, abusive pile of human refuse, and I could never in good conscience come to terms with it, despite the misguided words of some pixie unfamiliar with the horrifying situation at hand. Some people are too good for others, and Osgood was leagues above La Ogra in every measurable capacity. She would never deserve him. Hell or highwater, their union would dissolve. My options, however, were limiting themselves, fast.
I ascended the steps, tossing the burning embers of my cigarette down into the planter beneath the porch and opened the door. The living room was vacant save for the lingering odor of human and feline fluids. From Osgood's room, loud music played, drowning out the symphony of damnation which he played upon his bedsprings. I passed by his door on my way down the hall and into my own sanctuary once more, shutting the portal and settling into my bed to torture myself with my devious machinations.
Alone in the darkness of my room I sat, devoid of any practical solution by which I could cleanly separate them for good. I heard the door to Osgood's room open and shut, and for a moment I was tempted to rush out into the living room once more, to decry the foul beast who shared his bed. However, I knew in my heart that such actions were frivolous. I had become the villain in this tale, and any action of that measure would be summarily rejected. In moments of desperation, however, it would be a lie to say that inspiration doesn't rear its head, even if that inspiration requires a descent into the darkest depths of human depravity.
If I could not rekindle the flames of Osgood's initial passion for the pixie, if a clean severance were to be so summarily denied to such a foul situation, then I would have to so thoroughly snuff the flames of desire that led him to believe that La Ogra was the one for him that he could no longer stomach the thought of her presence. If a villain I was what I had to be, then I would become the most reviled villain that I could imagine, and I would drag La Ogra down with me into the flames of despair. I knew then what I had to do.
I prayed to God for the first time in years that night.
Special thanks go out to ReddX and the greater ReddX community, a group of people who I absolutely love and adore. I'd also like to thank my gorgeous and wonderful patrons, who, as of the time of this writing, I can list because my phone issues are finally being sorted out! Geeze, that took awhile, but hey, I'm on hobo time. So without further ado, I would like to thank: Robert Allein Waits, BitchGremlin, River Jerry, CrypJERRIES, GiggleJerry, Heeeeeyyyyyy Jerry, Missta JERRY PRIME, Calvicus, Nat 1 Nick, Dayton Does, Fyredraeke, and Tatoferret. I want you guys to know you are loved, and I appreciate the kindness and support you've shown me as I make my way through this curious adventure we call life.
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2021.10.26 01:44 verysuspiciousduck Day 471 of posting images of cheese until I run out of cheese types: Menage
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2021.10.26 01:44 1Wolke Its Over!
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2021.10.26 01:44 buggaroooo Temperature
2021.10.26 01:44 Amonhawthorn Me when I want to make a custom spelljammer type setting for PF2E:
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2021.10.26 01:44 hanessocks101 .
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2021.10.26 01:44 harrybarracuda Entry procedure for Chiang Mai
2021.10.26 01:44 TheTechnoDuck Open your maths book to a random page, and pick the first question you see, let's see who can solve all questions
2021.10.26 01:44 merc3r1e irritation bumps or keloids?
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2021.10.26 01:44 Relative_Flight Is a 10pull in Valhalla worth it for FTP player this month with the featured heroes? Have 6000gems stored, with plans to pull at Christmas. Current lineup included in photos.
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2021.10.26 01:44 tx_innovator Am I being jaded, or would you also find this infuriating / unethical?
So, I saw a job listing for a Voice job that included this in the description:
This role is remote within the United States and at this time we are not able to hire within Colorado.I can't help but wonder if this is a way around Colorado's law requiring salary information or ranges in job posts:
2021.10.26 01:44 PaleontologistOne232 Loyalty Program & CEL Ratio
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2021.10.26 01:44 ClassicSoulboy Media Malpractice Clown World.
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2021.10.26 01:44 consigntooblivion What do you call this - more complicated cost function depending on previous decisions?
Hi, sorry quite new here. I've got an idea in my head and I have no idea what to call it or really even if TF is the right way to approach it (maybe more like a genetic algorithm). I'll try and be brief - here is a simplified idea:
I've got an LSTM predicting time series data which is working great. But now I also want another layer / model that represents a player making choices. For example at time T it buys 10 steel, then at time T+1 steel price is down, but it is predicted to go up significantly so decides to hold. Or say decides not to buy when steel is at 10, but hordes money and buys it all up right at the end of the simulation time when the price is lower at 6.
Essentially the way I'm thinking about it is that each step's cost/loss is the balance + market value of assets bought in previous steps.
What do you call this? I can't really even figure out what to google for. Pointers very much appreciated!
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2021.10.26 01:44 UnicornBlu_rr OK I see we still making assumption posts. Make some about me or 🔪
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2021.10.26 01:44 xcheez__ Monterey Public Release (21A559)
| Completely everything works.|
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2021.10.26 01:44 GoDie910 Viking look
Putting aside optimal build, I was thinking about matching armor in order to look like a viking. Do you have any ideas on how to achieve this?
My ideas so far: Helmet: druid, judicator Armor: specter, mercenary, judicator Shoes: druid, soldier
weapons: shield, torch, broadsword, battleaxe, greataxe, bearpaws, bow, warbow, spear, heron spear, spirithunter.
Please keep in mind I'm doing this for the looks. Just something to have fun with.
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2021.10.26 01:44 Strange_Annual [WP] You've always been seen by your family and friends as a huge worrywart. It was until one day when you just... stopped worrying a lot. They have also begun to notice that you began talking to yourself a lot. They don't know that you found a friend that comforts you and ease your worries away.