Girl Scout cookies san diego

The Best Place Ever from 2013-2016

2013.09.12 04:45 Heelincal The Best Place Ever from 2013-2016

"I like the cleanly shaven Dick" -Crisco "Blowies and buttstuff." -Yangar We need a place. A special place.

2020.06.07 18:39 unremovable TIL an unnamed 9-yr-old Girl Scout sold over 300 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in 6 hrs from her wagon in front of a San Diego marijuana dispensary in 2018. She followed in the footsteps of 13-yr-old Danielle Lei, who in 2014 sold 117 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in 2 hrs outside a San Fran pot shop.

TIL an unnamed 9-yr-old Girl Scout sold over 300 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in 6 hrs from her wagon in front of a San Diego marijuana dispensary in 2018. She followed in the footsteps of 13-yr-old Danielle Lei, who in 2014 sold 117 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in 2 hrs outside a San Fran pot shop. submitted by unremovable to unremovable [link] [comments]

2020.06.07 16:25 Miskatonica TIL an unnamed 9-yr-old Girl Scout sold over 300 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in 6 hrs from her wagon in front of a San Diego marijuana dispensary in 2018. She followed in the footsteps of 13-yr-old Danielle Lei, who in 2014 sold 117 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in 2 hrs outside a San Fran pot shop.

TIL an unnamed 9-yr-old Girl Scout sold over 300 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in 6 hrs from her wagon in front of a San Diego marijuana dispensary in 2018. She followed in the footsteps of 13-yr-old Danielle Lei, who in 2014 sold 117 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in 2 hrs outside a San Fran pot shop. submitted by Miskatonica to todayilearned [link] [comments]

2020.03.06 01:38 kaosmode My LGS is having a 50k Tournament

Calories that is!
My LGS in San Diego, Brute Force Games, is having a Mystery booster sealed event where the top 8 splits 50 boxes of Girl Scout cookies. If you're in San Diego make sure you come out to this fun event!
submitted by kaosmode to magicTCG [link] [comments]

2020.03.05 15:52 damazz10 Bravo Ratings 2/23/20-2/27/20

Sunday 2/23/20

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Monday 2/24/20

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Tuesday 2/25/20

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Wednesday 2/26/20

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Thursday 2/27/20

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2020.02.17 15:59 damazz10 Bravo Ratings 2/9/20-2/13/20

Sunday 2/9/20

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Monday 2/10/20

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Tuesday 2/11/20

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Wednesday 2/12/20

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Thursday 2/13/20

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2020.02.10 17:21 damazz10 Bravo Ratings 2/3/20-2/6/20

Monday 2/3/20

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Thursday 2/6/20

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2019.08.13 00:51 Furshlugginer492 Rosebud, Chapters 5,6

by Yael Dragwyla
Chapter 5: Holiday

I wander thro’ each chartered street,
Near where the charter’d Thames doth flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man,
In every infant’s cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:
How the Chimney sweeper’s cry
Every black’ning Church appalls,
And the hapless Soldier’s sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls.
But most through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot’s curse
Blasts the newborn Infant’s tear
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.
– William Blake (“London”)

I slept until about 2 the next afternoon. When I awoke, I was still groggy and exhausted. I had a deadline to meet in a few days on the Price-Hart article I’d been working on now sporadically for the last several weeks; if I wanted to get it to the editor of Mother Jones by the deadline, I’d better get downtown and back to my research over at Carnegie’s. But after all that had gone on yesterday, I had all the get-up-and-go of a wet dishtowel. There was no way I’d be able to accomplish anything worth a damn today.
My best compromise was to spend the day doing everything possible to get over the shock and exhaustion from yesterday, so that starting tomorrow I’d have all my energy and wits about me to get the job done and over with as fast as possible. So I dragged myself downstairs and raided the store of nutritional supplements I keep on hand in the refrigerator at all times. Then, some of my vitality beginning to return, I turned to making a meal for myself. I put together an enormous chef’s salad, a fresh grapefruit with honey, and a huge pot of coffee.
I agree, coffee is probably one of the worst things in the world for the body. It destroys the central nervous system, wrecks the pancreas, wreaks havoc on the gastrointestinal tract, and does things to the brain stem that should only be discussed in a court of law, and then only after chasing out those with weak stomachs. But I’ve been drinking the stuff for a quarter of a century, and I’ll be damned if I’ll give it up this side of the Last Judgment. Frankly, I love the stuff:
Coffee is an awful weed;
I love it.
It satisfies no normal need;
I love it.
It makes you thin, it makes you lean,
It takes the hair right off your bean,
It’s the lousiest stuff I’ve ever seen –
Nevertheless I love it!
Trying to get the day started right without it is not something I can – or want to –do any more. Only a visit to Schick Shadel’s recovery center will ever get me off the stuff – and they’ll drag me in there over my dead body (probably after total kidney failure or a fatal heart attack). I do so love my coffee! So, on the theory that if you’re going to poison yourself to death, you should do it right, and use only the very best poison, I go to my favorite connection, the Brass Teapot, this little place over on Santa Reál Street half a mile East of where I live, to get my fix. The Brass Teapot specializes in the best teas and coffees from every corner of the world. I buy whole beans from them, usually their Special of the Month, from Brazil or Jamaica or Uganda, where they do it right. After I get the beans home again, I put them in an air-tight container until I want to brew up some more coffee. That way, the beans are as fresh as possible, and stay that way until I’m ready to use them.
When I make the next pot of coffee, I grind just enough beans to make one cup at a time, using this little electric grinder I also got at the Brass Teapot that grinds them up the way I want them. Then, using a special filter, this plastic thing with a wire-mesh bottom thinly plated with real gold, to make sure that the filter won’t add its own taste to that of the beans, I put the filter on top of the cup, a huge mug with Garfield grinning at me on the side, saying, “Go ahead, dearie – rot your guts!”; add one scoop of finely-ground Colombia or Santa Reál “Reál Thing” mix, my favorites, into the filter; pour in boiling water; and in just a minute or two, voilá! – the finest cup of coffee in town! . . . Especially when I add real whipping cream, ground vanilla beans, and honey.
Today, however, I made a whole pot of the stuff, using a large filter-assembly just like the smaller one, except for its size. After two cups with cream and honey, I was almost back to normal. The chef salad and the fruit completed the transformation. I certainly wasn’t in shape to do the sort of research today I needed to do to finish my article for Mother Jones, but I could clean the house, or go bicycle riding, say, and get the cobwebs out of my mind and the remainder of the fatigue toxins out of my brain with some physical exercise. So I decided to clean house.
But after a couple of hours of it, it palled. There wasn’t that much to do. A nervous Virgo with Moon in Cancer, I keep my home fairly clean all the time, as it is. About the only real chores there were to do were weeding the tiny garden I had behind my house and cleaning out the basement and straightening up the forty tons or so of stuff I’ve accumulated over the years and stored down there for safekeeping. The garden wasn’t due for a good weed for two or three more days (though it could have used some watering, God knows, but there was water-rationing on, and I’d have to skip that for awhile); and on a nice day like what was left of this one promised to be, I wasn’t about to get down there in that dark, dirty basement and risk putting my back out trying to rearrange all those crates and boxes. So it was the great outdoors for me today.
I decided to take the bike-path that ran along the cliffs going west toward Golightly Beach. It was cooler today than it had been yesterday; a cold front off the ocean threatened to bring overcast tonight or tomorrow. I put on my jeans, boots, T-shirt and a jacket, got out my old blue I0-speed from the garage and started off.
I biked northeast from Camarillo along Trudeau to Main, then down Main, across Highway 101, to Balboa Boulevard, which ran northeast-southwest along the beaches to Old Highway Road. A spur from the bike-path system ran west from the latter; the spur would take me to the bike-path that ran along the cliffs out to Golightly Beach and UCSR. It wasn’t until I was halfway out to the University from town that the events of the previous day caught up with me – and then I nearly fell off my bicycle from shock. 
Why it had taken all this time, I don’t know. Since waking up, I’d gone through the last couple of hours in a perfectly normal, if groggy, frame of mind, not remembering more of the previous evening than that it had happened. But now I couldn’t keep the image of that little girl, with her blood-smeared face and clothing, feasting so lewdly on the corpse of the woman there in the school-yard, out of my rapidly fragmenting mind. I had to stop at once and pull my bicycle over as quickly as I could manage to avoid falling down right there in the middle of the bike-path. Leaning my bike against a raggedy fir growing there by the path, I almost fell to the ground as the last of my strength flowed out of my legs like water running off a cliff.
Shaking all over, I huddled in the shade of the fir for a while, my will paralyzed, my strength gone. Morosely I thought of Officer McKnight’s admonition to me to remain where 1 could be reached – should I be at home? Then I remembered that I had turned on my telephone answering-device, with a message saying that I’d be back soon. If the police called, surely they’d assume my absence had no sinister import, and would leave a message for me to call them back. So I could have some time alone out here to myself with a clean conscience. But what did I want to do? 
I didn’t really want to go ail the way to Golightly Bench, not now. What I actually wanted to do, I realized, was go get a pizza and, after that, some chocolate eclairs and French vanilla ice-cream, and PIG OUT!!! Much more satisfying me than any ordinary lost, drunken weekend, an epic calorie-binge would cushion me quite adequately from just about anything up to and including World War III. So I struggled to my feet and, turning my bicycle around, headed back to El Camino Reál –- a legacy of California’s Spanish heritage running from just below San Diego clear up to Monterey, near the Bay Area, along some 500 miles of California’s Pacific coast and 400 years of its history. There I turned left, going northeast toward “upper” Santa Reál. (Main Street, which runs northwest from the ocean for two or three miles, makes a 45° angle at that point, turning due west toward Golightly, the University, and Ano Vista, its name changing to Mercury once it crosses the city limits going west. The city of Santa Reàl hugs Main Street rather closely. It flanks Main on either side in two bent strips; the one on the ocean side of Main is about six or seven blocks wide, but the one on the other side extends as much as twenty blocks in some places toward the foothills and mountains of the spur of the California Coastal Ranges that bounds Santa Reál and environs on the North. The part of Santa Reál “above” the bend in Main, that is, along the section of Main running due east and west – which just incidentally contains some of the priciest residences in Southern California – is called “Upper Santa Reál.”)
There was a Domino’s Pizza Parlor just off the corner of El Camino Reál and Main. I headed for it gratefully. Once inside, I ordered a medium-sized pizza with everything, with plans to save the leftovers to take home for a bed-time pig-out, along with salad, garlic bread and a pitcher of Budweiser (the alternative was Coor’s, which tastes even worse than Bud, not to mention the fact that I hate Adolph Coor’s labor policies, which make Simon Legree look like Jimmy Hoffa). An hour later, nicely stuffed with pizza and even more nicely squiffy on beer, and bored with the heavy-metal and rap selections playing continuously on the jukebox, which the cute little punkers and homeboyz kept eternally stuffed with quarters, I left. 
Walking my bicycle along with me down the sidewalk, I went three blocks down to Baskin & Robbins. Just coincidentally, a fine bakery was next-door to the ice-cream parlor. After locking up my bicycle, I went first into the bakery, where I bought two chocolate eclairs and a double-dozen sugar-cookies, then went into Baskin & Robbins for the biggest sundae they made, plus half a gallon of French vanilla ice cream to take home with me.
The fact that I spent nearly $40 on all this never entered my mind. Visions of Hog Heaven danced through my head, obscuring anything else – and mercifully keeping yesterday’s horrors completely locked out of my mind for the duration. I enjoyed my feast thoroughly, lovingly lingering over every last crumb of the pastry and each spoonful of the ice cream. By the time I was done, the beer I’d drunk had finally worked its way to my bladder, and once I had used the restroom and got rid of it, I was no longer so wobbly on my feet, in spite of the beer. I decided to go home, put one of Mel Brooks’s finer efforts on the VCR and kick it back for the evening. The bike-path that runs out to Golightly Beach from one side of\` El Camino Reál also extends back in the other direction at that same point, toward town. I rode back down El Camino Reál toward the beaches, turning off to the left onto the bike-path to go back into the city. I had a dim memory of the path coming out somewhere fairly near where I lived. Blithely I set off along it, taking pleasure in the alders, maples, oaks, and other trees that lined the path, their leaves stirring softly in a cool breeze off the ocean, countless birds darting through them. 1 laughed at a crow who was having a loud argument with another crow, maybe having it out over the bills or whose turn it was to take down the storm-shutters. The sun wasn’t all that close to setting yet, but it was very late in the afternoon, and it was getting cool. I was glad I’d brought my jacket. 
It wasn’t until I was within a mile or so of home that 1 became fully conscious of just where the bike-path ran. I had been thinking idly of nothing in particular, still somewhat stoned from my huge meal, happily trundling along over the bike-path toward town. Suddenly I realized that the territory I was in was very familiar: I was in the fields back of Fairchild Elementary School.
If it hadn’t been for the noise I heard just then, coming out of the school-yard, a strange, frantic screaming like nothing I’d ever heard before on this earth, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near that school that evening for a million dollars. But the screaming, the terrified cry of some baby thing in agony, jerked me out of myself, and I could no more have kept away from there after that than I could have flapped my arms and flown. 
My brain kicked out, my glands kicked in. Without thinking about it at all, I swerved with ghostly grace off the bike-path onto that same footpath by which, just yesterday, I’d come to the school-yard on the return leg of my hike. I don’t know what instinctive wisdom impelled me to stop the bicycle and pull it around with that same catlike silence behind one of the bushes that grew there in the field close to the school, or tiptoe so quietly up to the oleander bushes at the school-yard corner. Certainly I wasn’t at all consciously prepared for what I saw as I peered cautiously around one of the oleanders.
There was little Debby, dressed in blue jeans, a Darth Vader T-shirt and sandals, sitting on the ground in front of another oleander bush. She was gleefully holding up in the air before her the body of a long-haired, gray kitten, surveying it with a highly pleased expression. One of the kitten’s forelegs was gone at the shoulder. Judging from the ruin of its shoulder, it must have been pulled off, without any finesse whatsoever; just naked brute force. The bloody little leg, ripped from the kitten’s body, lay in the dirt beside Debby. The kitten looked quite dead. The scream I’d just heard had obviously come from it. There was a spike sticking out of one of its eyes.
“Now, honey, go ahead and drink the blood,” urged a maternally affectionate voice. The speaker was a woman who might have been about five or six years younger than I. She had a long, long, coal-black fall of hair just like Debby’s, except that it was a great deal longer than the little girl’s own hair, and its color was just a little too perfectly sheeny midnight-black to be natural. She was wearing a black leather mini-skirt, black boots that came to mid-thigh, a white blouse, and rather garish gold earrings. A ring with an enormous black stone set in some silvery metal glittered an her left hand.
Aside from the hair, the little girl didn’t look too much like the older woman, physically speaking, and she certainly wasn’t wearing the heavy black mascara, eye-liner, and lipstick that the woman wore. Yet there was an eerie similarity between them. I finally realized that it was their expressions: the woman’s pouty, pursed lips and unblinking, wide-open eyes were perfectly duplicated in the blood-spattered features of little Debby’s face, which wouldn’t have been out of place on a grown woman with a lot of weird mileage behind her.
The woman had a quirt at her hip, secured on her heavy black Sam Browne belt. The hilt of a stiletto peeked up from her left boot-top. Through the horror that threatened to overwhelm me I still couldn’t help thinking that for all the world, she made me think of Ozma of Oz dressed to the nines for a dungeon party – or a character out of some Z-class spy-suspense movie: the Evil Nazi Female Spy. 
Then, with a jolt, I realized what that red-white-and-black logo in the center of the little round, silver plate hanging in the center of each of her bizarre earrings was. Each of her earrings consisted of several slender silver hoops of various sizes suspended together at their top edges on a short braid of delicate silver wire attached to the hook going through her ear-lobe. The plate with the logo, about 1 cm across, slightly smaller than the smallest of the hoops, shared the same anchorage to the bottom of the silver braid connecting the whole assemblage to the hook as the hoops enclosing it. The logo itself, picked out in brilliant scarlet, Stygian black, and snow-white was a copy of the flag of Nazi Germany, black retrograde swastika on a white ground inside a red field.
The lady may have looked like something straight of out an opera bouffe, but she was involved in anything but a comedy. Standing by Debby, she was urging the little girl by a hand on the girl’s arm to bring the kitten’s shattered arm to Debby’s mouth. Debby, however, her eyes glowing scarlet in the same waning sunset light that so terribly highlighted the demonic, bloody mask of feral bliss into which her little-girl face had been transmuted, needed no urging. Greedily she fastened her avid mouth on the bloody mess that had been the kitten’s shoulder and began to suck at it noisily.
“Good girl!” the woman told her fondly. “Good girl!” She patted Debby on the back maternally. Debby went on sucking away at the kitten’s ruined leg, lost in rapture. The woman frowned a bit, then plucked at Debby’s arm. “Teysa – hey, Teysa!”
Her concentration broken, Debby looked up at the woman, annoyed. “What do you want – oh, I’m sorry, what’s the matter?” she said, her ire changing to contrition when apparently she recognized the woman.
“Don’t you remember? Remember how good it feels? Now, if you want to make this really full of Power” – the capital P was unmistakable – “then we play ‘Touchy’ at the same time. Now, come on, don’t you want to try it?”
“Sure!” crowed the child in unholy glee. Smiling, the woman stooped down, unzipped the girls’ jeans, pulled them down along with her panties, and began tickling her genitals. Simultaneously, Debby reached up under the woman’s mini-skirt and did the same for her.
I was nearly halfway around the oleander bush now. When I realized what the two of them were actually doing, my self-control finally broke. I think I screamed.
Both of them instantly stopped what they were doing, whipping their heads around to see what the disturbance was. Before I realized what was happening, the woman had darted her hand into a bag on the ground at her feet and had pulled out a Beretta semi-automatic, aiming it dead on my mid-section. “All right, whoever you are – come out of there now!” she ordered.
Eternities passed. My will seemed completely paralyzed. What I should have done at that point was to have thrown myself back behind the oleander and run for it. Instead, I just stood there like a jack-lighted rabbit, stupidly staring at the pistol aimed bang-on my diaphragm, unable to do anything, waiting for her to do whatever she would. In the near-silence that hung in the air between us, I could hear, faint in the distance, Mrs. Rothberg frantically calling: “Debby! Debby! Honey, where are you?!”
Finally I said, “You murdered that woman, didn’t you?”
“Murder?” said the Nazi-Ozma clone, smiling lazily, like a well-fed hyena. “Oh, I wouldn’t call it murder.”
“What the fuck would you call it, then? It sure as hell wasn’t a love-pat!”
“What do you know about it, you clod?”
“Christ Jesus, what am I supposed to know about it? It looked like Jack the Ripper had been at her!”
“Jack the Ripper was one of Us,” she said smugly. Again the Capitals.
“‘Us’? Who the hell is ‘us’?”
“Those who have the Power. We who never forsook the Ancient Ones. Those of us who will rule the world. The New Ones, the children of the Old Ones who never forsook the True Gods.” The Capitals were louder than ever.
“You know, Miss, you sound like a cross between somebody out of one of those after-the-Bomb-mutants novels and some*thing* from one of H.P. Lovecraft’s nastier nightmares.” “Lovecraft was one of Us, too.” “I bet you invented the Wheel, too.” Her face hardened into something deadly. She raised the pistol a little higher, so that it was aimed straight at my heart. Under the circumstances, clearly it was stupid to antagonize her, but my mouth seemed to have a mind of its own: “Why, I bet you don’t even know who it was you killed. – And you called Debby ‘Teysa.’ Where did she get *that*?” “Oh, don’t worry about the sacrifice – it wasn’t anybody worth anyone’s concern, just some little suburban *breeder* with too many kids, not enough brains, and a busy, busy, *busy* life with all her stupid little charities and den-mothering and her ten million other little busywork projects. You think somebody like *that* will ever produce anything of note? – After all, it’s not as if she were a great composer or researcher, or a doctor or somebody else who is at least *useful*! No, all *that* kind can do is breed and breed and breed, and make the world softer and softer and weaker and weaker with all her little welcome-wagons and cub-scout meetings and *niceness*. That was that little twat’s finest hour, yesterday – thanks to her sacrifice, we were able to invoke *Asmodeus* successfully, at last . . .” She said this last with a sigh that sounded like St. Theresa describing the latest visit from her Archangel. Stunned speechless, I just stared at her. Waiting for me to say something, the woman began to look irritated when nothing was forthcoming from me, and her grip on the gun tightened. It was Debby herself who answered my other question. Looking up adoringly at her friend, she piped, “*She*’s *Big* Teysa, an’ *I*’m *Little* Teysa! Right?” 
“Right, honey,” the woman answered absently. Then her eyes narrowed, and she told me, “‘You know, now you’re a witness. I guess we’re going to have to kill you.”
Ten thousand things were racing through my mind. The hole in the end of that gun looked awfully big, and it was pointed straight at me. Rather inanely I said, “Well, in that case, will you at least satisfy my curiosity, and tell me who the hell you are? If you’re going to kill me, it won’t make any difference – so why not?”
Some! people like to brag. This woman was apparently one of them. “Actually, why not? My . . . birth-name, the one on my passport, was Phyllis Teysa. The Little One, here –” She reached down and patted Debby affectionately on the shoulder. “She likes my last name. She thinks it’s Magickal. And it is.
“My . . . patronymic used to be Bernstein, but that was years ago, before I left Dayton, Ohio. I changed it, you see. ‘Teysa’ is the name of a Night-Weird . . .” Seeing my bewilderment at this, she explained, “Night-Weirds are the Messengers of the Old Ones. There are male and female ones. The ignorant louts of the Middle Ages called them Incubi and Succubi.
“Night-Weirds have kings and queens, and one of their most famous queens was Teysa-Li – the ‘Li’ was a title, meaning something like, ‘The Bold.’ When I . . . when I finally Broke Through to the True Gods, the one I first invoked, Tazlan, said I really needed a name that didn’t belong to the Undermen, and would be fitting for one of the New Men. He suggested Queen Teysa-Li’s name, and I thought it felt right, so I took her name, partly for its Power, partly to honor her, for she was great of her people.
“I kept my first name, Phyllis – it’s a good, solid-sounding name that keeps me from standing out the wrong way. I took ‘Teysa’ as my last name, because if you have a normal-sounding first name, nobody really pays that much attention to your last name. – If you’re a Grown-Up, that is,” she added, scowling blackly at the specter of some ancient agony of spirit rising out of her own, unknown childhood.
“When will the God come this time, Lady?” piped up.
“Soon, honey, soon,” the woman told the girl. “He’s promised us that –“
“JesusMaryJoseph – all right, you, hold it right there!

Chapter 6: The Hungry Gorge

Cruelty has a Human Heart,
And Jealousy a Human Face;
Terror the Human Form Divine,
And Secrecy the Human Dress.
The Human Dress is forgèd Iron,
The Human Form a fiery Forge,
The Human Face a Furnace seal’d,
The Human Heart its hungry Gorge.
– William Blake, “A Divine Image” (1794)
All three of us turned to see who it was. There was Tom McKnight, Glock in hand, standing in a Weaver brace at the side of one of the oleanders, aiming straight at Phyllis. She drew in a harsh breath, clamped her mouth grimly closed, kept her aim steady on me.
“I really do suggest that you drop that gun, Miss,” said another voice, coming around from the other side. It was Lieutenant Benson, from Homicide. Like Tom, he had his own gun out, leveled at the woman. I could have kissed both of them right then.
If I’d been her, the sight of two drawn guns aimed at me, held by two obviously competent and very angry cops, would have taken all the starch out of me right then and there. I’d have dropped the gun and passed out cold. Not Phyllis Teysa. I have to give the Devil her due: she never wavered. Her finger began to tighten on the trigger – she was determined to take at least one of us out before they got her. “Oh, my God – Debby! *Baby!* What are they doing to you?!” “*Eh-heh-EEE-eh! Eee-YAAA!! Yeh-ho-waaw El-oh-heeem! Ehl! Eh-lo-heem Gi-BOOOORRR! Ye-ho-wah El-oh-wah Vah-Dah-aht! Yeh-ho-waaw Tsahh-ba-oht! Eh-lo-heem Tsahh-ba-oht! Shah-DAEE El-CHAEEEEE! Ah-doh-naee Meh-LEHK!!!!”* This last, howled out by a strong, young pair of lungs belonging to a third party who had apparently just arrived on the scene, ended on a mind-ripping, sky-tearing eagle-scream. Though it could have cost me my life, I couldn’t help looking around to see who it was. I needn’t have worried – behind me, I heard the *clunk!* of Phyllis’s gun falling to the ground. 
Coming toward us at a dead run were Rabbi Geller, panting with effort, accompanied by a boy of maybe twenty, who had a gigantic, gorgeous Jewish Afro of curly golden hair. Both wore swimming-trunks; rubies flamed in the water that dripped from the boy’s thick, tightly-curled locks of hair as the dying sun enhaloed him with gruesome light.
Suddenly, from behind me, there came a wild gobbling. I looked back to try to locate the source, and found Phyllis and Debby writhing about on the ground beside me, caught up in ghastly convulsions. Debby moaned loudly, arching her back, rolling from side to side in a frenzy that was eerily obscene, simultaneously somehow a sexual parody of agony and an agonized travesty of sexuality. Foam sprayed from Phyllis’s mouth as she frantically whipped her head from side to side, so that it repeatedly hit the ground hard enough to have concussed anyone else, as if she were trying to kill something deadly in it by smashing it again and again against the earth; her legs and arms thrashed and contorted as if each of her limbs were independent of all the others.
Tom ran up to Phyllis and sat on her, trying to keep her from smashing herself to bits in her seizure, but had no success in controlling her frenzied writhing. Benson came to help him, and between the two of them they managed to immobilize her, more or less, and even got a stick down her throat to keep her from swallowing her tongue, though Benson almost got a nasty bite in the process.
Meanwhile, Rabbi Geller ran over to Debby and began to do the same for her. She was so small and he was so large that it seemed ludicrous that even so, he had enormous difficulty keeping her still. Her small body seemed to house some titanic engine that threw her about as she gobbled, screamed, and wailed, almost in defiance of the laws of physics; it was all that Geller could do just to keep her in one place. For a miracle, she didn’t swallow her tongue; he was so busy just trying to keep her body from moving that he had no opportunity to put anything in her mouth to hold her tongue down.
The boy, white-faced and horrified, came over to me. “Who – who are you?” I asked him shakily. Now that I was no longer in danger of being imminently murdered out of hand, I found that my legs were trembling so hard that it was all I could to do stand up, and the same tremor made it hard to speak. “I – I’m Martin. Martin Maier. Rabbi Geller’s my uncle, on my mom’s side. – You know who that woman, the one on the ground in that *messhugginner* getup, is?” “I’ve no idea.” “She’s – that’s Phyllis Bernstein! She teaches English out at the University. She lives right *here*, about two houses away from Debby’s, and a couple of blocks over from *us!* She’s – why those, those *schmutsik* *oyringlen*?!” he cried, outraged. “She goes to Beth Miqlam, where Uncle Ben’s the rabbi! We all know her! What is she *doing*, dressed up like some Nazi whore?! She’s *Jewish*!” “Dear God – she told me her name was ‘Phyllis *Teysa*.’ She said she came from *Ohio*!” “Well, she *was* both there – but she and her parents have lived *here* for the last *twenty-five years!* My mom knows *her* mom! She’s known our whole family for *years*!” “Martin – I need your help!” cried Rabbi Geller, who was still doing his best to keep Debby from hurting herself. “Debby’s choking! I can’t get a hand free to depress her tongue, I need help!” “Coming, Uncle Ben!” Martin ran over to help his uncle. “Oh, God, did you find Debby? Is my baby – oh God!” It was Sarah Rothberg, who had finally caught up with the others. Utterly distraught, seeing Rabbi Geller kneeling astride her child, who was beginning to turn blue, she began to wail, a wordless, horrifying cry of total despair. Martin was doing his best to try to get a handkerchief I’d dug out of my pocket for him into the little girl’s mouth, but was having the devil’s own time of it – Debby bit at him savagely every time he tried. 
Falling to her knees beside her thrashing child, Mrs. Rothberg grabbed Debby’s jaws with the terrible strength of a woman in terror for the life of her child. Slowly, digging her fingers into the corners of Debby’s mouth and down against the muscle where the girl’s jaws came together, she forced Debby’s mouth wide open. “Put it in!” she ordered Martin. “Now!
Gingerly the boy pushed the wadded-up handkerchief into the child’s mouth, yanking his hand back as soon as he succeeded to keep Debby from biting him. But the handkerchief, which was large and made of sailcloth, was now firmly wedged in Debby’s mouth, completely blocking her attempts to bite, as well as keeping her from swallowing her tongue.
However, the handkerchief also made it completely impossible for Debby to breathe. Debby passed out from lack of air, and stopped thrashing. Now that the danger of being bitten by her was over, it was an easy matter for Mrs. Rothberg to pry open her daughter’s mouth again, dig out the handkerchief, and start mouth-to-mouth respiration.
Lieutenant Benson called to Rabbi Geller, grunting with effort, “Hey, Rabbi – if you aren’t doing now, would you go call Headquarters for me? Tell ‘em what’s going on here? And call an ambulance for these two – this one’s wigged out of her mind! How’s the little girl?” Benson was breathing hard from the effort of trying to control Phyllis’s wildly thrashing body. Sweat ran off his face in streams, and had already stained his shirt heavily, in spite of the fact that he’d left his jacket behind somewhere and the evening’s chill was coming on.
“She’s – she seems to have passed out. Yeah. I’ll go make that call – Martin, you stay here with the others, and help Sarah if she needs a hand with Debby or anything! I’ll be right back.” Staggering to his feet, he took off running down the path toward the houses east of the school.
All this time, Phyllis still thrashed and moaned, muttering incomprehensible phrases all the while, doing her best to try to bash her own brains out on the ground in spite of Benson’s and McKnight’s best efforts at controlling her. She was never to regain any semblance of coherency or sanity again – just as little Debby would remain in a catatonic trance for many years to come, long after she’d recovered completely from the effects of temporary strangulation.
It was some time before Rabbi Geller returned. When he did, it was in a police car, one of three units dispatched to the scene due to his frantic call to the station. An ambulance with three paramedics were right behind them. While he was gone, Geller had thought to put on some clothes over his trunks; he and Martin had been swimming in the Rothberg’s pool when Sarah Rothberg came running out to tell them hysterically that Debby, who had supposedly been napping in her room, still recovering from the previous day’s shock, had disappeared again, this time apparently through the open window of her room. Geller and his nephew had only stopped long enough to pull on shoes before taking off to hunt for the child, whom they had imagined to be wandering around in a fugued daze somewhere. With sunset flaming across the west in peacock glory, and night coming on quickly, it was rapidly cooling down. Accordingly, Rabbi Geller had quickly pulled on some clothes once he’d reached the house; he’d also thought to bring some back with him for Martin, who was beginning to shiver by the time the cops and the ambulance arrived. By the time we got back to the Rothberg’s house, where Lieutenant Benson began to question us all over again, it had occurred to me that I could as easily be a suspect now as Ms. Bernstein. After all, all anyone had seen when they came busting in on us there in the school-yard was Phyllis Bernstein holding a gun on me, Debby covered with blood, and a dismembered kitten on the ground. It could as easily be assumed from all that facts at hand so far, I knew, that Ms. Bernstein had surprised me butchering that kitten and perhaps intending to do harm to Debby, and had pulled a gun on me to keep me from doing any further harm to the child. Phyllis’s admittedly weird costume wasn’t evidence, however strange it may have been, and what else was there? But right off the bat, Benson, smiling grimly, said to me in front of the others, “Well, *you’re* off the hook, Ms. Cutter – as luck would have it, Tom, here –“ he gestured at Tom McKnight, who sat off to the side of the room, looking queasy and grimly taking notes – “Tom and I were coming over to the school-yard with the others here, looking for Debby, when we heard voices behind those big oleander bushes there. “You see, I had called Mrs. Rothberg earlier today, to ask her if we could talk with Debby, to find out what, if anything, she could tell us about Mrs. Grace’s murder. – The name of the dead woman, you see, was Lucille Grace. She was quite well-known in the community, and very much liked. A terrible thing, her death, especially when you consider her husband and kids . . . “—Anyway, Debby was almost certainly a witness to that murder, and anything she could tell us would have helped us immensely in trying to find the killer – which was a Number One priority, considering how terrible it was. Well, Mrs. Rothberg wasn’t sure her daughter was up to it, understandably enough, after the shock the poor little kid had just been through, and she went to check on her, to find out if Debby was feeling well enough to talk with us. “She came back in a hurry to tell us that Debby was missing and that the window of the girl’s room was wide open. Mrs. Rothberg had no real idea of how long the girl had been done – it could have been anywhere up to about half an hour, which was how long it had been since Mrs. Rothberg – hell, *Sarah*. Mind if I call you that, Ma’am?” he asked her apologetically. Mrs. Rothberg, who’d been sitting huddled in a large overstuffed chair, weeping quietly all this time, shook her head dumbly without looking up or interrupting her muffled sobbing. “Thanks, Ma’am,” Benson told her. “– Anyway, up until then, as far as Sarah had known, Debby’d been in bed all day, still very ill from the shock she’d had. As ill as the kid seemed to be, it wasn’t likely she’d climbed out that window herself. “Well, under the circumstances, it seemed quite possible that she *had* been a witness to Mrs. Grace’s murder and that the killer might have come over here and kidnapped her, in order to take the little girl someplace and kill her, to eliminate the one witness to that murder. So Tom and I made tracks for the school, *fast* – it was the most likely place to start looking for tracks, whatever we could find, we thought. “Rabbi Geller and Martin were here, too. Sarah had called them this morning, before all this go started, and had asked them to come over. Not only is Rabbi Geller her rabbi, he’s an old friend of the family. So he came, and brought Martin, who was over helping his uncle fix a rose-trellis or something. And it was hot, and Sarah suggested they could go swimming if they wanted to – anyway, they were here, so they came along with Tom and I, to help us look for Debby. “So all of us had just about reached the school-yard, when Tom and I heard voices. It was you and Ms. Bernstein. We hung back to listen, make sure of what was going on, before we came on in to the school-yard and interrupted Ms. Bernstein’s attempt at another murder. We’ll testify in court as to what she said, which makes it glass-clear she murdered Mrs. Grace. “And even if it weren’t for that, Ms. Cutter, I’d *still* wonder what the hell that woman was doing in a God-damned *school-yard* with a .40-caliber semi-automatic pistol! – Not to mention being dressed up in that fantasy-Nazi outfit, like the belle of the Hitlerian ball or something! – She *is* Jewish, I gather?” Martin, still outraged, spoke up. “She sure is, Lieutenant Benson! She’s attended Beth Miqlam, our synagogue, for *years!*” 
Continued in Chapter 7
submitted by Furshlugginer492 to DrCreepensVault [link] [comments]

2019.06.17 05:39 subreddit_stats Subreddit Stats: news top posts from 2019-05-17 to 2019-06-15 21:55 PDT

Period: 29.41 days
Submissions Comments
Total 998 163234
Rate (per day) 33.94 5333.89
Unique Redditors 550 54576
Combined Score 3669287 6216317

Top Submitters' Top Submissions

  1. 148280 points, 46 submissions: Jo_Jo_In_Tampa
    1. Boy, 16, fatally shot while trying to sell Xbox: 'They killed my son over nothing,' mom cries (64814 points, 9343 comments)
    2. Mom uses GPS to locate daughter, 17, trapped under car 25 feet down mountainside (23563 points, 1144 comments)
    3. San Francisco police union calls on chief to resign after raid on reporter's home (19031 points, 748 comments)
    4. Nike to change pregnancy policy for athletes in contracts after backlash over freezing pay (6521 points, 845 comments)
    5. Alabama woman says judge ordered her to allow her alleged rapist to visit their sons: report (5708 points, 909 comments)
    6. Homelessness jumps 12% across Los Angeles County (4892 points, 1527 comments)
    7. 'Heroes' lead police to Texas girl who was abducted while walking with her mother, police say (3061 points, 207 comments)
    8. Feds: 81-year-old bank robbery suspect wanted to return to prison because of small Social Security payments (2685 points, 348 comments)
    9. 41 shot, 7 fatally, in Chicago Memorial Day weekend gun violence (2321 points, 1316 comments)
    10. Woman jumps from window to escape brutal 6-hour rape in Queens, suspect on the loose (2070 points, 266 comments)
  2. 132061 points, 12 submissions: Creasy007
    1. Woman Who Called Michelle Obama An 'Ape' Sentenced To Jail For Defrauding FEMA of $18K (67771 points, 1327 comments)
    2. Ford Will Lay Off 7,000 White-Collar Workers (36202 points, 5194 comments)
    3. Colorado Governor Signs Gay Conversion Therapy Ban (21908 points, 766 comments)
    4. Leaked Chicago Police Video Shows Fatal Shooting of Mother Holding Her Baby (3473 points, 819 comments)
    5. Ohio Doctor Charged With 25 Counts of Murder, Accused of Prescribing Excessive Doses of Painkillers (878 points, 121 comments)
    6. 'Rocketman': Russian Distributor Cuts Film for Homosexual Propaganda Law (491 points, 55 comments)
    7. Quest Diagnostics Breach May Have Exposed Personal Data For Nearly 12 Million Patients (444 points, 71 comments)
    8. Florida Charter Boat Captain Accused of Drinking, Doing Drugs, Firing Gun, Threatening Passengers (264 points, 65 comments)
    9. Mother of 2 Dies After Falling From Lake Tahoe Waterfall (241 points, 126 comments)
    10. Ohio Middle School Where Radioactive Contamination Was Detected to Remain Closed Through 2020 (140 points, 11 comments)
  3. 92506 points, 6 submissions: Horror_Mango
    1. 9 People Showed Up for a KKK Rally in Dayton, Ohio. They Were Drowned Out by 600 Protestors (62854 points, 4799 comments)
    2. Police: Former councilman, 90, arrested after driving through crowd at Dover pride parade (20605 points, 2158 comments)
    3. Dad bought erotic massage with $700 daughter made from Girl Scout cookies, cops say (4784 points, 777 comments)
    4. Opioid Maker Agrees to Pay Oklahoma $85 Million Over Claims Company Helped Create Addiction Crisis (3686 points, 342 comments)
    5. Tar oozes on to sidewalk, street near La Brea Tar Pits (343 points, 99 comments)
    6. Police rescue woman chained in basement of Niagara Falls home (234 points, 22 comments)
  4. 92268 points, 3 submissions: brahbocop
    1. Police chief gives $575 ticket for tossing cigarette butt out window (48710 points, 5451 comments)
    2. Tennessee sheriff’s deputy, pastor calls for LGBTQ executions in sermon (42720 points, 5929 comments)
    3. WarnerMedia Joins Disney And Netflix In Considering Georgia Retreat Over Abortion Law (838 points, 294 comments)
  5. 87411 points, 2 submissions: Fanrific
    1. Sugar Daddy website founder to pay for abortions of women who need to travel out of restrictive states (44886 points, 2922 comments)
    2. US immigration detention centres caught serving spoiled food as investigation reveals nooses in cells (42525 points, 4299 comments)
  6. 84326 points, 14 submissions: JLBesq1981
    1. Colorado passes $1 billion in marijuana state revenue (51105 points, 2777 comments)
    2. 46 ice cream trucks are being seized in a New York City crackdown (18491 points, 1927 comments)
    3. Mallinckrodt paid 'kickbacks' to keep drug price high, and stuck taxpayers with bill, DOJ lawsuit says (3666 points, 221 comments)
    4. The Latest: Oakland 2nd US city to legalize magic mushrooms (3273 points, 377 comments)
    5. Judge refuses to dismiss Secret Service agent's suit alleging he was detained because he is black (2424 points, 483 comments)
    6. Hundreds protest Alabama's abortion ban at state capitol (1479 points, 819 comments)
    7. Five inmates at a New Jersey jail came down with the mumps. Now the entire facility is under quarantine (1443 points, 95 comments)
    8. 9-year-old pays off lunch debt for his entire third grade class (1157 points, 377 comments)
    9. Manhunt for alleged shooter of several police officers in Alabama trailer park (329 points, 86 comments)
    10. 40,000-year-old severed wolf's head discovered in Siberia (282 points, 81 comments)
  7. 83057 points, 1 submission: Batman264
    1. YouTube Bans Minors From Streaming Unless Accompanied by Adult (83057 points, 2884 comments)
  8. 69290 points, 1 submission: masstrip
    1. Radiohead Donates Money to Climate Change Group Instead of Paying Ransom to Hackers. The band released hours of hacked recordings rather than pay ransom money to the hacker who stole them. (69290 points, 1625 comments)
  9. 65991 points, 1 submission: MindyS1719
    1. R. Kelly charged with 11 new counts of sexual abuse (65991 points, 2563 comments)
  10. 64010 points, 7 submissions: The_Necromancer10
    1. Arthur: Alabama Public Television bans gay wedding episode (58157 points, 5846 comments)
    2. St. Louis and Philadelphia police are investigating reports of racist, anti-Muslim Facebook posts by some city officers (2763 points, 525 comments)
    3. Scientists discover previously unidentified mass beneath surface of the moon (1475 points, 525 comments)
    4. Southern California city's beaches closed due to sewage-laden runoff from Mexico (1021 points, 140 comments)
    5. Former executive sues Goldman Sachs after allegedly being fired for being 'too gay' (259 points, 89 comments)
    6. Greenpeace activists board BP oil rig as it is towed out to sea (258 points, 104 comments)
    7. U.S. fighter jets intercept Russian warplanes off the coast of Alaska (77 points, 60 comments)

Top Commenters

  1. drkgodess (64110 points, 326 comments)
  2. HassleHouff (36148 points, 54 comments)
  3. yAz_94 (25793 points, 4 comments)
  4. netabareking (22017 points, 110 comments)
  5. JLBesq1981 (20680 points, 179 comments)
  6. whats-your-plan-man (18669 points, 9 comments)
  7. limeyhoney (18404 points, 1 comment)
  8. TwilitSky (18077 points, 42 comments)
  9. entropys_child (17975 points, 1 comment)
  10. rbfrbfrbf (17491 points, 10 comments)

Top Submissions

  1. YouTube Bans Minors From Streaming Unless Accompanied by Adult by Batman264 (83057 points, 2884 comments)
  2. Radiohead Donates Money to Climate Change Group Instead of Paying Ransom to Hackers. The band released hours of hacked recordings rather than pay ransom money to the hacker who stole them. by masstrip (69290 points, 1625 comments)
  3. Woman Who Called Michelle Obama An 'Ape' Sentenced To Jail For Defrauding FEMA of $18K by Creasy007 (67771 points, 1327 comments)
  4. R. Kelly charged with 11 new counts of sexual abuse by MindyS1719 (65991 points, 2563 comments)
  5. Boy, 16, fatally shot while trying to sell Xbox: 'They killed my son over nothing,' mom cries by Jo_Jo_In_Tampa (64814 points, 9343 comments)
  6. 9 People Showed Up for a KKK Rally in Dayton, Ohio. They Were Drowned Out by 600 Protestors by Horror_Mango (62854 points, 4799 comments)
  7. Arthur: Alabama Public Television bans gay wedding episode by The_Necromancer10 (58157 points, 5846 comments)
  8. Chinese Military Insider Who Witnessed Tiananmen Square Massacre Breaks a 30-Year Silence by mynameis_neo (57412 points, 3676 comments)
  9. Washington becomes first U.S. state to legalize human composting as alternative to burial/cremation by infiltratedthoughts (56865 points, 2096 comments)
  10. Colorado becomes First State in the Nation to put a Cap on the Price of Insulin by fishin_missin69 (56556 points, 2470 comments)

Top Comments

  1. 22353 points: yAz_94's comment in Boy, 16, fatally shot while trying to sell Xbox: 'They killed my son over nothing,' mom cries
  2. 19672 points: netabareking's comment in Arthur: Alabama Public Television bans gay wedding episode
  3. 18404 points: limeyhoney's comment in 11 people have died in the past 10 days on Mt. Everest due to overcrowding. People at the top cannot move around those climbing up, making them stuck in a "death zone".
  4. 17975 points: entropys_child's comment in YouTube Bans Minors From Streaming Unless Accompanied by Adult
  5. 17359 points: rbfrbfrbf's comment in Boy, 16, fatally shot while trying to sell Xbox: 'They killed my son over nothing,' mom cries
  6. 15429 points: whats-your-plan-man's comment in Tennessee sheriff’s deputy, pastor calls for LGBTQ executions in sermon
  7. 14334 points: ThePerfectSnare's comment in 9 People Showed Up for a KKK Rally in Dayton, Ohio. They Were Drowned Out by 600 Protestors
  8. 13397 points: thefanciestcat's comment in Woman Who Called Michelle Obama An 'Ape' Sentenced To Jail For Defrauding FEMA of $18K
  9. 13345 points: indoninja's comment in Arthur: Alabama Public Television bans gay wedding episode
  10. 12674 points: DicedPeppers's comment in Another American dies while staying at Dominican Republic resort
Generated with BBoe's Subreddit Stats
submitted by subreddit_stats to subreddit_stats [link] [comments]

2019.03.04 03:54 chichi2319 Anyone have good resources for the 50+ to learn about CBD/cannabis?

So I’m wrapping up Sunday supper at my Mother-in-laws house, and to describe this woman she is around 62 with a huge heart and a full desire to live life, but is so worn down with osteoporosis as well as some liver and lung issues due to factory work at an early age in the south. She spent the latter half of her life as a seamstress and ended up developing severe arthritis in her hands and wrists. Basically, when you look at her you see the life in her eyes but then she looks onward since she is so crippled with all of this at once, it makes you really sad to see it happen to her. She had a younger sister-in-law who was like an aunt to my husband when they were growing up but ended up being the wild child and moving to California in the late 80’s with a boyfriend from humboldt ( doesn’t everyone have that person in their family?). Long story short, she’s been spending more and more time opening her options up from previous experiences and dropping her more conservative stance on hemp and medical cannabis, which is a RELIEF to the relationship of the sister-in-law and her.. and you can imagine, she’s been talking her into CBD and cannabis. Now don’t get me wrong, this is the most beautiful thing to have happened, since she basically opened up to me after we cleaned the table that she wanted to try the CBD tincture I kept in my purse. I was a bit hesitant, but I finally gave up and brought it out. I was giddy to actually help her and started rattling off so many facts and pulling out YouTube on my phone to show her videos.. full on, lol. I could tell she was being a bit skeptical and fearful but I ended up bursting the bubble and taking a quick dose in front of her. “Ok, your turn, it’s not so bad I promise!” And she just went for it. About 10 minutes later she turns to me and is just in awe. She felt almost no pain in her hands and her wrists finally felt comfortable and not aching every 4 minutes and waves of needle like pains was gone. She is planning a trip to see the Sister in law out in California ( though she moved to San Diego I think so not as far north anymore with a stable teaching job) , but I can see her being a bit reckless without the proper information. I’ve been trying to look around google to see if there are any resources more geared to her age and not all this weird and immature stuff on YouTube. I want her to be educated and get her basics on all things CBD and thc so that she can be safe and not be peer pressured by the sister in law.
TL:DR Does anyone have any resources that are more for my mother in law (62 yr old nice southern lady) and not all this YouTube stuff that’s scary and intimidating ( she doesn’t and can’t smoke something called purple monster Or Girl Scouts cookie) So that she can get her basics down without me being worried that she’ll be pressured into something crazy on a trip to see a wild sister-in-law out in Cali? These are respectable yet daring cute older ladies so of course something easy. So far my google searches have come up dry but I will post if I find anything as I keep up my search. All of your help and kind consideration is much appreciated.
Thank you for reading y’all !
submitted by chichi2319 to CBD [link] [comments]

2019.02.18 18:57 wcincedarrapids The panhandling and homeless loitering is out of control.

I just moved here a couple of weeks ago and moved into a new East Village apartment. The apartment itself is top notch and really great and there is 24/7 security on the sidewalks surrounding the building but as soon as I walk across the street to a sidewalk not a part of the building, its like I am Gerald Brovfloski on that South Park Night of the Living Homeless episode. Panhandlers asking for money as far as the eye can see. I try to ignore them but some of them have followed me. I told tone I have no cash on me and he said he will just follow me to an ATM and pointed out locations the ATMs were at.
At night 16th and 17th streets are lined with tents. I usually drive with my windows down and I guess having my windows down at red lights makes the homeless people think they have free reign to just come up to me and either ask me for money, yell at me, or try to start a conversation with me.
I had to get certified funds to move into my apartment so I went to Wells Fargo on Market & Euclid to get a cashier's check. Despite there being security guards posted outside in this shopping center there were loiterers everywhere and I didn't feel 100% safe carrying my cashiers check to my car which I had to park far away from the Wells Fargo since the parking lot was packed.
I went grocery shopping for the first time at the Walmart Neighborhood Market south of downtown on Imperial & 21st since every Walmart Neighborhood Market I have ever been to has been nice, clean, and peaceful. Not this one. The parking lot itself was a conga line of sketchy characters and filled with trash like a pig sty. Inside if I didn't know any better I would have thought the place was a soup kitchen or homeless shelter instead of a grocery store. People posted up at the entrance asking people as they went in/out for money and obvious vagrants inside just loitering around with no purpose or intent on shopping. There was a guy literally sitting on one of the shelves eating out of a Funyuns bag, who knows if he paid for it or not. Never again will I return to this Wal Mart Neighborhood Market.
And its not like its just in East Village or around Downtown. I drove up to Wal Mart on I-15 and Aero by Fry's this weekend to buy some more things, thinking it would be better. There was actually a sign in front of the store warning patrons saying that you have a chance of encountering loiterers inside the store. I didn't think there was a good chance of it but I had a guy come up to me in the baking aisle asking if I could give him a couple dollars so he could buy a burger at the Rally's inside. Where is store security? Then you walk out and are accosted by a dozen different girls right at the entrance selling girl scout cookies as well as a guy trying to raise money for vets. If I were going to donate to vets I'd do it through a verified reputable organization and not some random guy outside a Wal Mart.
I knew that there was a homeless problem here but its a lot worse than I thought. I've lived in another city before that also has a homeless problem, Seattle, and while I thought it was bad there San Diego is on a whole different level. But apart from that and the higher cost of living I enjoy it here so far and things are going great but that is definitely something that isn't very reassuring.
submitted by wcincedarrapids to sandiego [link] [comments]

2018.04.13 20:01 bash59 Well, I have tried to laugh it off....................

For a few years now, my wife and I have attracted various goons who had either left their cave dwellings or were released from a nut-house, been inconvenienced by a number of them. But this latest genius of a primate, who no doubt lives in his mother's garage and regards it as his command post, has been a real pain in our rear. So out goes Mr. Nice Guy to the left, and enters the man with a plan from the right...........I figured since he considers himself computer savvy, he'd probably frequent Reddit, in between eating his Hot-Pockets and watching Asian Porn, while he scams the elderly out of their social security. Another words, he's a symbol of a (for a lack of better word) 'a human' TERM used very loosely, for all of us to one day meet. Perhaps from a distance, he being inside his fenced area, and we'd be outside throwing peanuts to him. Because clearly he lost his marbles a long time ago, either when they dropped him as a baby, or perhaps he was born with these marvelous qualities. Either way, he's make a good attraction at the San Diego Zoo.......or perhaps he should truly seek his calling and become either a clown or an elephant dong sweeper. For which he's somewhat over-qualified, but I know in no time at all, he'd fit right in...........bless his very tiny heart, and his big fat belly and that single-cell mass he keeps in his skull, which he affectionately calls a brain. Which reminds me of the Strawman in the Wizard of OZ, difference being, it's that the strawman was smarter to know that he needed a brain, whereas this poor soul, is completely clueless. Well that's it for now. I hope he gets to read this, since he has been trying so hard to crash our network and compromise our computers. You got give him credit for his resilience and fortitude, if nothing else. I am sure he's able to eat a dozen boxes of girl scout cookies in one sitting. Guess that's something else he can be proud of...............let's give him a virtual applause for keeping us entertained.
submitted by bash59 to u/bash59 [link] [comments]

2018.02.08 06:52 BlankVerse Entrepreneurial Girl Scout has leaders grappling with a new frontier of cookie sales: outside the pot shop — "[an] entrepreneurial Girl Scout … sold 312 boxes of Girl Scout cookies outside a San Diego marijuana shop this weekend"

Entrepreneurial Girl Scout has leaders grappling with a new frontier of cookie sales: outside the pot shop — submitted by BlankVerse to trees [link] [comments]

2018.02.07 13:14 lawstandaloan San Diego Girl Scouts investigate girl who sold cookies outside marijuana dispensary

San Diego Girl Scouts investigate girl who sold cookies outside marijuana dispensary submitted by lawstandaloan to trees [link] [comments]

2018.02.06 20:02 lebish San Diego Girl Scouts investigate girl who sold cookies outside marijuana dispensary

San Diego Girl Scouts investigate girl who sold cookies outside marijuana dispensary submitted by lebish to OrganicMarijuana [link] [comments]

2018.02.06 19:58 ultimaregem San Diego Girl Scouts investigate girl who sold cookies outside marijuana dispensary

San Diego Girl Scouts investigate girl who sold cookies outside marijuana dispensary submitted by ultimaregem to CannabisKulture [link] [comments]

2018.02.06 19:53 removalbot 02-06 18:53 - 'San Diego Girl Scout Sells Over 300 Boxes of Cookies in 6 Hours Outside Marijuana Shop' ( by /u/undue-influence removed from /r/news within 1-11min

San Diego Girl Scout Sells Over 300 Boxes of Cookies in 6 Hours Outside Marijuana Shop
Go1dfish undelete link
unreddit undelete link
Author: undue-influence
submitted by removalbot to removalbot [link] [comments]

2018.02.06 05:15 AutoNewspaperAdmin [World] - San Diego Girl Scouts looking into whether cookie seller outside pot shop broke rules Toronto Star

[World] - San Diego Girl Scouts looking into whether cookie seller outside pot shop broke rules Toronto Star submitted by AutoNewspaperAdmin to AutoNewspaper [link] [comments]

2018.02.06 04:12 AutoNewsAdmin [World] - San Diego Girl Scouts looking into whether cookie seller outside pot shop broke rules

[World] - San Diego Girl Scouts looking into whether cookie seller outside pot shop broke rules submitted by AutoNewsAdmin to TORONTOSTARauto [link] [comments]

2018.02.04 22:51 outrider567 Munchy madness: Girl Scout sells 300 boxes of cookies outside San Diego marijuana dispensary

Munchy madness: Girl Scout sells 300 boxes of cookies outside San Diego marijuana dispensary submitted by outrider567 to AnythingGoesNews [link] [comments]

2018.02.04 05:20 AutoNewspaperAdmin [US] - Munchy madness: Girl Scout sells 300 boxes of cookies outside San Diego marijuana dispensary Russia Today

[US] - Munchy madness: Girl Scout sells 300 boxes of cookies outside San Diego marijuana dispensary Russia Today submitted by AutoNewspaperAdmin to AutoNewspaper [link] [comments]

2018.02.04 04:13 AutoNewsAdmin [US] - Munchy madness: Girl Scout sells 300 boxes of cookies outside San Diego marijuana dispensary

[US] - Munchy madness: Girl Scout sells 300 boxes of cookies outside San Diego marijuana dispensary submitted by AutoNewsAdmin to RTauto [link] [comments]

2018.02.03 15:49 LongtailBot [#5+5392207] Girl Scout sells more than 300 boxes of cookies at San Diego marijuana dispensary [/r/nottheonion]

submitted by LongtailBot to longtail [link] [comments]