Well not all, but about 20 coins. I'm just writing this to get it off my chest.
Here's my story:
After missing my buy at $20 in early 2013 due to my laziness of having to sign up for an exchange, I didn't let my chance slip up later that year: I bought at the peak of the boom in late 2013. I ended up averaging in at about $800 for 40+ BTC ($35k total). I had been successful in an online business, and as a young kid I decided to throw half of my net worth into this magic internet money. I didn't understand the concept of decentralization back then, but I liked the idea of an internet currency, it made sense and I loved taking risks so I went for it.
Well shortly after that I discovered Dogecoin (or was it created then?) so naturally I dumped ALL my BTC into it thinking this meme coin would be an even better form of internet money. Over a year or two I watched my crypto dwindle down to sub $2k. At that point I was thinking alright might as well let it go to 0. I eventually switched it all back over to BTC when it went back up to 7-8k (IIRC), but at this point I lost a few BTC, I was down to 30-35 or so. A couple of other memories include spending 0.3 BTC on a porn subscription when BTC was worth $200 or so. I also sent 0.25 BTC to a website that said they would send 1 BTC back, needless to say I'm still patiently waiting for them to send it back. Lost a couple of coins at that casino that was up in 2014 as well, but I forgot the name of it.
Anyway, 2017 rolls around, and I break even! I had moved on in my life at this point and having 35k was nice but not life changing, so I never thought about selling at that point... But then that year it just kept climbing and climbing. Once my portfolio hit 100k was when it hit me that something special was going on. I was incessantly checking the prices at work and did more and more research about decentralization and understanding what Bitcoin and cryptocurrencies really were. And that's when I discovered altcoins...
Thinking I was ahead of the curve I threw all my BTC into alts right after the BTC Cash fork. Within the next month my ~40 BTC dropped down to 15 (but it stayed about even in $) while BTC was mooning. Dec 2017/Jan 2018 comes and it rockets up to 75 BTC! My portfolio was worth over a million dollars. Wow. I was right in my thinking and I was rewarded for it. Everyone was talking about crypto at that point and I started throwing a BTC into all sorts of alts and ICOs.
Luckily I also reluctantly sold 15BTC to lock in some profits, but feared I'd miss the next rally hence the small amount. Turned out to be a good idea - that was the top. Scam after scam, the rest of my coins run down to 20 or so BTC. I was a millionaire on crypto-paper for about a month.
Over the next couple of years I ended up holding pure ETH as it eventually dwindled down to sub 100k. Depression hits and I see what could've been, kicking myself for not cashing out. But I knew there would be another bullrun one day so I didn't sell.
Fast forward to the COVID crash - I wake up one day to BTC at $3k and knew I had to trade it. My ETH was down to ~12BTC at the time, and being jobless and quarantined, I traded "full time" and ran it all the way up to 100+ BTC (on the way up from 3k-10k). I felt like a god, I called every move and I didn't lose. I was a millionaire again! But only for a moment...
I then went on to lose ~75 BTC margin trading. I was taking on ridiculous trades. From July 19 thru September I built up a 1000BTC long position (lol) which got me stopped out when it dipped back down to ~9800. My stop was at 9900 and I lost a massive amount of money. Had I not been stopped out I would've made 10-30 mil. But that's not how it works and I probably would've given it back one way or another. So with my last 25 BTC I forced myself to sit on my hands in spot while I watched it go up and up and up.
Anyway here I am now. I'm done riding the crypto rollercoaster. I have been fully exposed to crypto ever since learning about decentralization in 2017. And although I'm extremely bullish on crypto, I'm going to lock in some money so I have a stable lifestyle over the next decade+, as well as diversify my investments. It really does a number to you when your future is uncertain - life with 10k vs 100k vs 1mil vs 10mil net worth is very different, at least for me. I had let money control my mood and life goals over the past few years in both the ups and downs. But there is so much more to life than money and being glued to a screen. I sold about 20 coins for $35k average which will set me right for a very good amount of time. I'm out, I'm done stressing and having sleepless nights. I have major major FOMO that we'll ultra moon from here, but I can't take another cycle of this. A million dollars is a lot of money, and while 10m+ would be nice to have, this is life changing enough for me.
Good luck to y'all out there whether you've been around a while or are new to crypto. Crypto has gifted me freedom and I've learned so much over the years. Please remember to take care of yourselves. Bitcoin prices aren't everything.
The best thing money can buy you is an awakening to your potential, and for that I am thankful. The real work begins now.
​
TLDR;
35k->2k->1mil->50k->1mil, potentially 10+m->1m->I'm OUT
edit:
can't believe the amount of negativity and naivety in the comments. if you can't be happy for someone else you really gotta question where that's coming from. jealousy? have fun staying poor you freaks.

RoyalRoad
First
Next
Jen and Sarah spent the next week doing research. The Internet was filled with contradictory information about monetary theory and economics, and neither of them really had the background to evaluate the arguments that everyone was having.
However, Sarah reminded them both, they didn't need to look at a perfect system, just one that worked. So, they started digging through Wikipedia articles and online textbooks on the history of money and how they came to be.
"Hey, did you know they used to use salt as currency?" Sarah asked as she skimmed through a particularly fascinating documentary about Middle Age East African economies.
"Is this some kind of joke about mining salt?"
"No, it's real, look. And apparently the word salary is from the Latin word salarium for money used to buy salt," Sarah continued fascinated.
Of course, they couldn't use something as simple as salt to represent money. In fact, they couldn't use any commodity either.
Over the last week, one of the alien traders caught wind that gold was extremely valuable on Earth, so they'd brought them in by the ton load. Gold was still useful for electronics and some dentistry, but the price of gold, mostly propped up by its value in rarity, crashed hard.
The problem with currency in galactic trading, as Sarah discovered, was that there wasn't a single commodity that was equally rare in every system.
No, whatever alternative they come up to the laughably outdated barter system had to be built on something far more rare and valuable than gold.
Something that even the most powerful human empires in history have struggled to collect.
It had to be built on trust.
"That's the system most modern currencies are based on," Sarah claimed, "you only accept dollars for work because you trust that you're going to be able to wake up tomorrow and spend it on… everything you need."
"Hmm well, we can't just ask them to take US dollars," Jen giggled. This would be so much easier if that weren't true.
"Why not?" Sarah asked, playing the devil's advocate.
"Well… well, like you said, they won't trust it! I certainly wouldn't if I were a trader! Furthermore, who knows? Maybe they have a printer in their ship that can duplicate money! Maybe we should ask them for that next time we bring Zarko some pears," Jen said, thinking out loud.
"I doubt it. The government keeps a lot of secrets about how they make Dollars , and I don't want the Secret Service knocking on my door," Sarah said. Until this week, she hadn't known that this was one of the lesser known duties of the USSS. Now that she knew it, it made the thought of attracting their attention even less palatable, "you're right. What about digital casino tokens? We can produce something that translates to Dollars and have our own system that tracks it all."
"Sure, that's not too hard to make. We would have a centralized money supply, where we don't trust each end point…" Jen continued on the brainstorm, thinking in terms of the technical system, "ok, so say we make SarahBucks, and peg its value to the US Dollar. One pound of pears would be worth 1.5 SarahBucks, one pound of sirloin steak is 6.99 SarahBucks at Safeway. That still doesn't explain how we'll get people to use it."
"I'm not sure. I need to think about this more," Sarah yawned, tired. "And I hate that name."
They agreed that they were stuck, and that SarahBucks was absolutely a terrible name.
Livermore Spaceport, Earth
A month after the spaceport opening, Sarah noticed that it had become less of a tourist attraction. There were far fewer people standing around gawking at the aliens, and a lot more companies trucking their best-selling products into the spaceport for trade.
After their abuse of Jen's cousin's employee pass got discovered by the spaceport authorities, Sarah and Jen had started placing their own bids on getting into the spaceport through the official channels. Thanks to their existing connections with the managers at the spaceport and a growing bank account of value, they could still get in to continue their lucrative trade for magical alien goods.
A bit of a rich-get-richer type of situation.
The flavor of the month were these Bohor magical air filter machines that aggressively scrubbed the air of… anything you want them to.
The Bohor planet is basically the planetary equivalent of a toxic dump.
Sure, it had biomes; it wasn't a Star Wars sci-fi planet where the entire planet is either a desert or an ice-cold tundra or a forest. But the entire planet had been polluted so heavily by its occupants that it lowered the life expectancy by half before the Bohors found a solution:
They simply filtered their entire atmosphere through air filter machines and then buried the toxins and garbage they got out of it in a very deep landfill, somewhere where very few people lived. Pretty much the kind of solution you'd expect out of a species that created the original problem in the first place.
Zikzik, the alien that was the same species as Zarko, overheard a human asking about their rocket fuel and climate change, and brought in a cargo hold of them.
It was a massive hit.
Earth's climate change problem wasn't nearly as bad as Bohor, but it was relatively simple to program these machines to suck carbon out of its atmosphere and… bury them in a landfill.
At first, few of the human traders bought them, thinking that it was going to be at least a while before the problem became big enough that big governments were going to come to them to try to address the issue, but they had it all wrong.
Soon as word got out this was an option, big companies and philanthropists started lining up at their doors. As it turned out, literally sucking the carbon dioxide out of the air was easier and cheaper than modifying many of their industrial practices to actually be environmentally green. They didn't need to run more efficient factories to claim to be carbon-neutral; just pump as much carbon into the air in exchange for undoing that by sucking it out of the atmosphere after!
Some bean counters at a think tank in DC predicted that a few more shipments of these air filters will fix Earth's climate problems by themselves in about a decade, so every trader had a waiting list of corporations with PR problems willing to buy them.
Sarah and Jen had a couple vehicle manufacturing companies on their list who were trying to get Bohor air filters to use in lobbying for looser emission standards for their dirty gasoline cars.
Today, there were traders on all the landing pads, and they were all carrying air filters. Zarko's ship was there, and he was loading fruits into his spaceship with an alien looking forklift. Sarah and Jen approached his ship and noticed the truck driver standing there.
"Hey Benny, tempting the poor aliens with cherries this time?" Sarah waved good, grinning and looking at his cargo.
Technically, Benny is a competitor, or at least he drives for a competitor. The massive fruit conglomeration he worked for, Chuckita, had not neglected to notice the massive business opportunity sitting right here as many others have, and are now delivering straight to the aliens in exchange for massive profit margins.
But Benny was a good guy. One time Jen and Sarah were having some trouble finding a buyer for a bunch of legally dubious alien psychedelics. Benny was in his late 50s, not that great with the Internet either, so he'd introduced them to whom he referred to as "my money launderer". Aka, his 22-year-old son, Benny Jr, who had a habit of buying weed and other less than legal items off the deep web. Benny Jr had found a buyer for them within minutes and even generously offered to handle the deal for them to spare them the risk of meeting some psycho hopped up on an alien high in a dark alley somewhere.
"Heh! One of the bat aliens loves sweets but has a low tolerance for sour, so they treat cherries as some kind of an odd challenge fad. They eat a random cherry, and it's either so incredibly sweet they start drooling out of the mouths, or it's a sour one, and they freak out," Benny replied, in a low voice as if he were trying to keep it a big secret. "Zarko showed me a video, and it's the most hilarious thing I've ever seen".
"I think I've seen that one, have you seen the one where they drink wine?" Sarah chuckled at the memory. Alien videos have been a big hit on YouTube. Some human merchants were trading fruit for aliens to take videos of the galaxy. Which they monetized, of course.
"No," Benny's ears perked up. Chuckita doesn't make wine, but if selling wine to aliens was going to be a thing, they were a big supplier of grapes… "Is it gonna be a thing?"
"Well guess what we brought today?" Jen also grinning from ear to ear, and holding up a big carton of low-quality box wine.
"Awww seems like I'm always one step behind you guys," Benny moaned in exaggeration, "I tried to get my money launderer to tell me what aliens would want but all he does is play video games on the Internet, kids these days."
Luckily, Zarko chose this moment to step out to spare them from more good-humored ribbing from the boomer. "Ah Sarah and Jen, you brought the grape wine this time!"
"Yup," Sarah beamed, "and I see you've run out of air filters to trade again!"
"Sadly yes," Zarko tilted his head in shame, "my ship is overdue for a cargo space upgrade, but I haven't found a port that would do it for fruit yet. Next time?"
"Alright! Alright! We'll leave our special wine with you, but you better get us some extra good filters next time!" Jen scolded mockingly. Zarko has gotten a lot more comfortable doling out IOUs since the first time.
"Of course. Only the best for you two," Zarko said with a greasy human smile imitation that almost made Sarah laugh out loud. It reminded her of a ridiculous cartoon sloth.
"By the way," Sarah asked casually, "how much is a spaceship worth on your planet?"
Zarko sobered up his expression and looked at her curiously. It was a question that other humans had asked before. To him, it was a good sign. This meant that they all dreamt of the stars. But he didn't expect such a question from someone as seemingly practical as Sarah. She had a lot of fruit, sure, but fruit doesn't build spaceships.
After thinking for a while, he replied honestly, "ships aren't traded for one single item. My family traded for the parts to build mine for generations."
He pointed at his spaceship.
Zarko proudly explained, "this is the work of eighteen generations of trading. My family was one of the richest on Zeep-zep. For thirteen generations, they traded for each of the parts on this beauty. Then, for the last five, my ancestors traded excess food from the tenant farmers on their land to expert craftsbeings that could put it together."
"Wait, eighteen generations?" Jen gasped. Eighteen generations ago, her family were probably peasants on a farm in Korea or something…
"Yes," Zarko said, looking at them with a little of pity. "After getting the spaceship, my family has traded in it for twelve generations, through civil wars and disasters."
He did some math on his hands, and said, "that's about four hundred of your years. That's why it's very unlikely that you will never go to space."
Looking at the stunned expression on their faces, he tried to lighten the mood. Zarko said mischievously, "unless you're willing to part with some more of your fruit, in which case I'll let you sit in the back seat for a whole route!"
"Hold on, back up, I'm still stuck on the multiple generations part," Sarah said seriously. "You're saying you're flying on a spaceship that started to be built thirty generations ago? That's… about a millennia for us."
"Yes," Zarko answered, "and that's why only thirteen families on my planet have had the privilege of owning one in our long history. No offense, but that's why I think no human will ever own their own spacecraft for at least fifteen more generations."
Something is wrong here, Sarah thought. The budget for NASA's FTL spacecraft was in the hundreds of millions. Yes, for a fruit farmer, that would be many generations of work if all their descendants worked in the same industry. But there were over three thousand billionaires on Earth, not including the tens of thousands of corporations that had assets or market value over a billion. And the prices for the spacecraft would surely go down as time went on…
For a planet like Zarko's to only have thirteen spaceships over generations of their development…
As they were walking away, Benny asked, "have you guys noticed something weird about the way these aliens do business?"
"Yes." "God yes." They said in unison.
"We've been thinking about it for a while, but these guys not having money is a major problemo," Sarah said, looking around surreptitiously, "Zarko and Zikzik keep talking about not being able to find someone who can upgrade their hulls for fruit. And sometimes they come with nothing good, and we're supposed to just drive our fruits all the way back!"
"And if you think about it, if they were human ships, think about truckers who don't own their trucks. We'd have loans or something to deal with the cargo space problems, and they'd be paid for by profits in a few trips," Jen added.
"The numbers he gave us for spacecraft ownership seem insane," Sarah agreed. "Your company could probably afford to order one right now, not to mention hundreds of others. They must all be dirt poor!"
Benny seemed relieved that he wasn't the only one who was thinking this, "exactly! I'm thinking we just introduce them to the concept of Benjamins and solve all their problems and ours. Would certainly make the return trip a lot easier for me if I didn't have to drive all the way to Berkeley for junior to launder all this crap!"
"We thought of that too," Sarah said as Benny pretended to groan again, "but we couldn't figure out how to get them to take money with no intrinsic value."
"Oh that shouldn't be too hard," Benny said, who's clearly already thought through this problem in his head, "we play a little game called good cop, bad cop."
"Good cop bad cop?"
"Sure, it's a mind game the cops play, where they put you in a room-"
"Yeah we know what it is, but how does that help us?" Sarah said impatiently, an idea tugging on her subconscious.
"Well you see," Benny clearly smugly enjoying this moment where he's thought of something that the duo did not, "you two come with an empty truck next time, and you tell Zarko that you'll give him a wad of clean crisp cash, fresh from the bank, for some of his air filters. And when he asks you why he'd take the cash, you just tell him that he can give it to me in exchange for some of my fruits."
"What does that have anything to do with good cop bad cop?!" Jen asked.
"That has nothing to do with good cop bad cop," Sarah chimed in, but the idea was beginning to form in her head, "but it's a good start. We don't want to deal in cash. It's too risky. It could get the feds onto us and there's a bunch of laws around it that I'm not sure about."
"But what we can do is have an internal money system for traders pegged to the US Dollar!" Jen completed.
"Yup, so when Zarko comes back next time, we tell him he has an account with the Bank of Benny, we give him a fancy looking card that has his bank account number and give him a pin code, and we deposit a certain amount of BennyBucks into his account for giving us air filters. Then when you come around, Zarko gives you his card and pin, and gives you BennyBucks for your fruit," Sarah finished.
"Aha. And then I come to you two, say, I would like to convert BennyBucks in my Bank of Benny account to good old American dollars," Benny extrapolated, completing that final step.
"Yeah! We'll just wire you the money and everyone gets theirs," Sarah exclaimed, happy they've finally thought through the loop and gotten someone on board.
"BennyBucks is a terrible name though," Jen said, calming everyone down a little, "and why are we getting so excited over the basic concept of currency? And why haven't aliens figured this out? Maybe it's against some kind of space trading code."
"Who knows? Maybe we just try it on Zarko and see if it works out," Benny said, a glint in his eyes, "and then we expand, galaxy-tically."
"Galactic credits!" Sarah exclaimed, "that's what we'll call it."
They agreed that it was the least worst name that they'd come up with so far. It was boring, but when it came to finances, maybe boring and cliché was a good choice after all.
"Explain again. I am trying to understand," Zarko said two days later as he offloads the air filters he'd promised.
"C'mon dude, for the fifth time," Sarah exasperated, "it's not that hard. We give you a bank account card and have you set up a secret number…"
Jen had spent the last two days coding up a storm. Technically, a simple debit system wasn't that hard, but she had to make a website interface that Benny could go up to and enter his account, Zarko's card information and amount, then let Zarko type in his code…etc. She'd mused that it would have been easier to just do this all in a cloud-based spreadsheet, but that wouldn't scale up if they had more customers.
Sarah had the account cards laminated and designed a logo: the letters GC, for Galactic Credit, and a stylized version of a Milky Way in the background. Part of the value in a trustworthy system is to look official, and you can't get much more official than laminated cards.
"Yes, I understand that part," Zarko said, clearly displaying his frustration on his facial expression as well, "but I don't understand why Benny would give me his fruit for just entering a number."
"Because we have an agreement with him that he'll take it in exchange for fruit!" Sarah was sure this was the umpteenth time she had to explain this, but clearly Zarko was not getting it.
"Is it similar to a debt?" Zarko said suspiciously, as if debt was this dark magic that the humans were performing on him, "I have never heard of this kind of debt before."
"Yes, it's a debt, of sorts," Jen cut in. The last time he had asked this exact question, they'd said no, and that led to fifty other questions and explanations that went nowhere, so nothing could go worse if they said yes-
"Ok. I don't understand," Zarko did his sloth version of a sigh, it was cute, but at the same time frustrating for Sarah and Jen, "But I can try it. I know you two are not trying to trick me. Do I get my fruits before I take off?"
"Yes! You go to Benny-" Sarah started.
"Yes! And that's it. Benny gives you his fruit," Jen cut her off, knowing that this was about to launch into yet another long, long line of questions they just can't deal with right now.
Sarah set up a new account for Zarko, asked him for a 6 digit base ten pin code (thank god Zarko was a ten digit species) which he promptly memorized, and hoping that Jen's prototype website wouldn't fail, showed him how they were "giving" Zarko 40,000 Galactic Credits for 8 Bohor air filter machines into his account ("No, you can't have my iPad. It's on your account card now. Show this to Benny later.")
"Well that worked out great," Benny said as he watched them wire him the $25,000 for his truck shipment of fruit. Though his costs were in the low thousands, he could have easily fleeced Zarko for his full 40k. But they all agreed that wasn't the point, which was to get Zarko to see the benefits of using a currency system abstracted from goods and services.
"Dude, you weren't there," Sarah complained, "I don't understand why he had such a hard time understanding money. Money equals goods. Bing bang boom. It's like these guys don't have the capability for abstract thinking."
"No they definitely do. You can't build spaceships without abstract math and science," Jen said, "but he clearly had a deathly aversion to using money. I think it's tied to some taboo to debt somehow. All the other species must have it because none of the aliens we've met have even mentioned anything close to a real economy."
"Whatever it is," Benny sighed happily, "I'm just happy I didn't have to go home with my truck full of weird alien toys."
"Yup. The next step is to get all the human traders to take credits. At least they'll have no problems understanding the benefits."
Sarah made some calls to the trader licensing office at the spaceport. There she found a manager willing to part with phone numbers and contact information for the other human traders, for an "information fee" of course, and started making calls to the other human traders.
It wasn't easy. Some traders were representatives of bigger food companies, and didn't have all the flexibility to make these kinds of decisions. And others no doubt were thinking of copying their system for their own profit. But they all saw the benefits of a unified network of currency debiting because they've been suffering the same problems that Sarah, Jen, and Benny had been.
Over the next few days, all the human traders agreed to take galactic credit from the aliens, which they knew they could exchange for cash with Sarah and Jen.
"We are officially in business."
In economics, there's a distinction made between different kinds of money. There's commodity money, usually gold or silver. There's representative money, which is currency backed by commodities like gold or silver. And then there's fiat money, which is not backed by any intrinsic value, but rather by government decree, hence fiat.
Galactic Credits fall into some kind of weird hybrid category between representative and fiat money. They're backed by the Dollar, which is fiat money, but also which makes them representative money. This means that the people issuing them, in this case Jen and Sarah, are not supposed to create them without also having a corresponding US Dollar in their bank account.
Of course, Sarah and Jen hadn't signed an ironclad contract with the other human traders that they're always guaranteed to take their galactic credits and exchange for money, so technically that meant that one day Sarah could simply "deposit" a large number of credits in her account and buy all the goods she wanted from Zarko, or potentially the other traders.
That would, however, be slaughtering the golden goose for the meat.
After all, they didn't want to sell fruit or Bohor air filters.
They wanted to sell the concept of money.
"Why would I take this over fruit?" Zikzik sniffed. He was known as a sharp one by all the human traders. If there's any new alien fad coming down the pipeline, chances are Zikzik is the first one to touchdown with a cargo hold full of it.
Unlike many of the other traders, he was fairly consistent in his dealings. This much fruit is for this much air filters. He knows his price, and he lets you know it too. Everyone suspected he kept careful records of all his selling and buying somewhere in his ship, but he's never brought them out. Maybe he just had a sharp memory.
"It's very consistent," Sarah insisted, trying to appeal to his affinity for a stable and predictable exchange, "one pound of fruit today is the same as one pound of fruit tomorrow, and you can deal in fractions."
Completely ignoring that most fruits are seasonal, and price changes, and inflation, she thought, let's start here.
"Fractions, you say?" Zikzik seemed thoughtful, or maybe he's just scratching an itch on his snout, Sarah could never tell with these aliens.
"Yes, fractions," said Jen detecting the slightest bit of opening, "you can trade your air filters for credit. Then you can trade maybe three quarters of your credits to fill your cargo with fruit. The next time you come down here to Earth, you would only need to bring half the amount of air filters as the first trip, combined with the credits you have left, you can leave with a full cargo load anyway!"
Is that how that math goes, Sarah thought, but didn't cut in, as Zikzik seems to be nodding, an oddly universal gesture for affirmation.
"Five eighths of the credits," Zikzik argued, "The air filters are harder to get now because the Bohor are running low, and they need time to make more."
Bargaining! There we go! That's what we're talking about! Sarah almost pumped her fists in the air and gave him a high five, not a great idea given how sharp his claws are as she found out when trying to shake his hands a couple of weeks ago.
"Ok, you would still have to negotiate that amount with each human trader," Sarah replied adding, "but they all deal in Galactic Credits."
They signed him up for an account, gave him a card, and set up his pin code. It had only taken half an hour to get Zikzik on board, which was significantly faster than the hours they'd taken to explain this to Zarko, despite them being the same species. Was it xenocist that she'd assume it was going to take just as long, Sarah wondered.
Looking at the line of traders, she sighed. This was going to be a long day.
Luckily, Zikzik accepting the credits made for great advertising. He was known for being a sharp trader, so if he doesn't think it's a scam, it must not be, right?
Sarah and Jen managed to get two other traders that day onto credits, and one more who was dipping his proverbial toes into the water.
It was a good day.
Jen had been working hard. The Galactic Credits website was now on its 16th major iteration. She'd beefed up the security on it, to make sure none of the other human traders got any funny ideas. Backups became more automatic and frequent, and there was now a rollback and dispute mechanism, not that it was being used yet.
Sarah had also been working hard. She'd been sitting in meetings all day with legal, finances, and now they had a small army of people who were ready to help out if they got into trouble there. Galactic Credits is now officially a tax paying LLC incorporated in the great state of Delaware.
Benny Jr, who had just finished college, had come in as well. He was no good at talking to clients, but he's what the duo would refer to as "street smart". Occasionally, the alien traders would bring in some exotic or ahem, dubiously sourced items, and he would know exactly where to convert that into cold hard cash. On the spreadsheets, his dealings were adding up to a nice fat padding on the margins for Galactic Credits, which to this point, hasn't been making any money other than in the fruit and air filters exchange business.
They were now working out of a rented office in downtown Livermore, with a very nice view of a brick-lined pub that offers numerous craft beers and the old railroad that runs through the heart of town.
Ironically, there's a Bank of America branch across the street, not far from the office itself, the company that had invented the BankAmericard and started the credit card revolution, seemingly oblivious to this new competitor moving into town, literally and figuratively.
They had many brilliant finance experts who were working on something, surely, but established financial institutions are not always great at moving fast and adapting to changing technology. There were many regulations to worry about, and the stakes were a lot higher.
There's something very quaint about the town itself. Some people didn't consider it part of the Bay Area metro area itself, but with the latest BART expansion station they recently built, that's been less and less true.
Now, it was literally the town where the train tracks ended. And where the final frontier began.
For the people in the office, it's also where they dreamt about a new financial revolution in the galaxy.
Some people have critiqued this chapter on the grounds that established financial institutions would have thought of this idea on day one. I appreciate the feedback, but that is a rosy view of the velocity at corporations in my opinion. I've personally worked in some of these companies, and if someone brought up this idea, it would probably have taken at least a month to get the idea through various risk audits and legal reviews.
In terms of technology, much of banking still operates on software that predates the modern Internet. This is one of the reasons why fin-tech startups have been able to beat them on time-to-market, despite massive institutional or financial disadvantages. It's why companies like PayPal, Square, Stripe, Venmo… etc could compete with the incumbents with the development of the Internet.
Sure, an intern in engineering or tools would have a semi-working prototype by week three, but the first line of code would be pushed to production by… month three. A much more likely scenario: some startup beats them to the punch, exactly as it happens here, and the large company offers their founders or investors an obscene amount of money to buy them out.
RoyalRoad
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I’ve been an avid tinder user, i work a lot and don’t have a huge opportunity to meet new people so i use tinder. I used to set my preferences to much older men thinking they would be more mature- boy was i wrong. I have many scary stories from tinder use here’s one from last summer. I matched with a guy we will call him Rob, he was 54 and i was 24 at the time. He claimed he was a head chef at a local casino. So i thought he seems pretty put together. So, i kind of have a system i use for tinder i chat with men i match with for several weeks & or we both feel comfortable to meet face to face, most creeps don’t wait that long, in my own experience. So, the first night we chat he starts getting too flirty — first saying how beautiful i am, then continuously complimenting my body, and as he continues i get a little uncomfortable, then he asks to meet- i say not yet, that i want to get to know him first. He understands and we talk for a few more days with this same kind of pattern. First it’s normal get to know you stuff. Then he would get too flirty and mention how he loves my curves, this turns into what he would do to my curves and to me. I keep quickly but nicely try to jokingly tell him to keep it clean as we don’t know each other yet. But he gets more and more brazen. He would message me dozens of times in a row a day and would get upset if i didnt answer right away. Like i said i work a lot at my family’s business, we are in the food industry as well, and I’m not able to text at work. I didnt tell him my last name, or where i work, but i did say at my family’s bakery in what town it’s in ( to keep it anonymous i wont say which town) but there are at least 5 or 6 other bakeries that i know of in my town. The days go by and i start to respond less and less because his constant sexual texts will not relent no matter how much i explain it makes me uncomfortable and i am not looking for just a hook up. I wasnt set on a relationship but if the chemistry is there then we could explore it, but he would get very angry with me the more i denied him. Finally, a week and a half later i completely stopped talking to him and i blocked his number. Thought that was the last I’d hear of rob, right? Wrong. I was at work and it was the night shift on a Monday so very slow and quiet just me and one other girl working. We get a phone call at work and my coworker says it’s for me. I am the manager so I’m used to people asking for me, so i answer saying my name and how i can help them. There is a pause and what i hear next makes my heart stop beating. The man on the phone says, “ hi sweetheart it’s rob” i am frozen i cant even find words to speak, i Definitly didn’t tell him where i worked or have it posted on my social media so how did he find me? I shakily ask how he found me, he says “ there are only so many bakeries in “my town”” this guy had called every bakery asking for a kayla in my town. I’m freaking out at this point and don’t know what to do. He tells me i have to come to his house tonight or else he will show up at my work. Idk what to do so i ageee just to get him off the phone. Then i hang up the phone and burst into tears. I very obviously do not go to his house, and i called out of work for the next couple of days. My sister who works at the bakery tells me the next day that a guy came in asking for me. I began receiving texts from numbers i fidnt know all from rob saying the things he was going to do to me. I would leave work and there would be roses on my car. He would call my work every time i worked several times asking for me, and just breathing heavy on the line or saying more things he wants to do to me. Some days he would come into work and wait to get me and would just buy a Coca Cola. Then hang around for 45 minutes just watching me. It got so bad that i had to switch my schedule, but my car is pretty distinct so it was easy to tell if i was working. It got so bad i would be at school in a differnt town and he would leave more “gifts “ on my car. I think i even caught him following me home once but i cant be sure because he had several differnt vehicles. I started taking my moms car to work, and doing more of the baking so i wouldnt have to be out front with the customers and i havent heard from him in several months, just the occasional text or odd phone call at my work. So older guy from tinder— let’s hope we never meet again.

TL;DR - I finally realized that my “moon” is just being able to support my family and enjoy my job at the same time.
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My wife and I used to work in the film industry, which shut down completely all year during Covid. In April and May we rebalanced our savings (had been almost entirely stonks) and bought some bitcoin. At the time it seemed like a bold move, but we had no idea when we would be back to work, or what was going to happen. Gold seemed like a good idea, until you actually look into trying to buy gold, and that’s why we revisited BTC, which I had held for some time in 2017 and sold before it crashed, but had basically gotten out of.
So, we started collecting stimulus and unemployment, and I stopped freaking out about when we’d be back to work. Instead, we decided immediately to get some film equipment we’d been looking at, and start shooting a YouTube show of her cooking, and try to put together a Covid-ready shoot of a movie we wrote the script for. We figured - hey, let’s invest this money in equipment and skills. Our thought was we’d start a video production company after the pandemic.
Well, fast forward, we actually managed to shoot our movie safely, and it’s being edited now, and a friend of mine hired me to edit videos for his company. It was basically the ideal job in every respect - work from home, for good friends of mine, start late, editing videos of celebrities talking to each other (I signed an NDA or I would name drop). I have loved working for them, and I was learning some skills to put towards our own business, right? Everything was great... except the pay. It was half what I used to make, plus 1099 instead of W2, plus non-Union so I don’t get any health care benefits and pension. But it’s not all about the money, right? And now isn’t really the time to be picky, I was unemployed for an entire year.
So I took the job and was loving it. Then two weeks ago my wife came to me and told me she is pregnant with our first child. Here’s the funny part - we know the exact day this child was conceived, because we tried exactly one time. So the pregnancy was a bit of a shock. But still, the happiest news I’ve ever gotten.
I started being terrible at my job. Couldn’t focus, couldn’t hit deadlines. All I could think about was the riot at the Capitol, and Bitcoin’s price, and reading about bitcoin, and reading about sound money. Because, oh yeah, I convinced my wife to move all of our savings to Bitcoin right BEFORE we found out we were pregnant. We both agree that on some level we both knew, that the hormones and pheromones were signaling us to make plans for the baby our conscious brains didn’t know about yet. And before we did the pregnancy test, we had already planned to move everything over.
So today I finally wrote them and quit my job. Because I realized there is so much more at stake, and what they are able to pay is not sustainable to raise my kid.
I know what I’m doing is the right decision, but even my father asked “aren’t you supposed to have a new job before you quit the old one”? And I asked him “if Warren Buffet wants to sit in cash and look for a good deal, no one tells him he’s being lazy, right?” He seemed to think that was a good point, so he dropped it.
Here’s where I’m at - my wife and I have everything we could want. We made a movie from a script we wrote together. We have a baby on the way. We have a house with a low mortgage and the money to pay it off if we want to, and we have some bitcoin beyond that still too. We have decided to sit on the sidelines like Buffet and wait this out.
Obviously there’s also tremendous upside of BTC goes to $100k. Then we’ll look like geniuses. But here’s the thing - all we will have done for that money is read a lot and push some buttons. And suddenly wealth will transfer out of society at large and to us. We can’t build a society where all wealth creation is a casino.
And this is why we need Bitcoin. We need sound money, precisely so that no one can push a few buttons one afternoon and become a millionaire. We need the money supply to be stable so that prices can be stable so that we can all plan for our futures, and not keep gambling like we have for the last century.
I know I made the right decision quitting the job, but at the same time, it’s hard not be mad that the whole issue is just a price mismatch between what they have budgeted and what I need to make. The only reason prices fluctuate like this is monetary debasement. Here we have friends working together making things, and just because the fed is printing too much money, that arrangement becomes untenable. It’s insane.
None of this holds a candle to my neighbor, though. He and his partner have several kids. He’s been trying to buy a house, and he’s pre-approved, but then he got offered a Union job that paid double. Same kind of work, he SHOULD take it. But because of the rules they’ve written to protect from bad loans being written, he would lose his pre-approved status if he switched jobs, and couldn’t get it back til he was Union for two years. So he didn’t. In what fucked up world do we live in where he has to turn down a better job to get a house? In what world do we build luxury condos next to homeless people? In what world are there food surpluses and starving kids? A world without sound money.
I used to think holding on for dear life was about the volatility, and I guess it was. But now I realize, it’s about sound money, low time preference, a society that looks forward to the future - it’s about holding on because life is dear.
The baby’s due in September. Between now and then I’m now totally free to get this world ready for them.
Thanks for reading y’all. Happy hodling.

Will try to keep this short but who knows. I semi sometimes live with my boyfriend and his family as my own home life isn't the greatest. We've been dating for about 6 years I'm a 22F and he 22M. He has told me that all his life he has experienced strange things from time to time examples include having horrible dreams about hell fire and skeletons, seeing full bodied apparitions as a child, and also shadows always lurking in the corner of his bedroom. I could honestly create a whole very long post about everything he's experienced but I'd rather ask about what has been happening more recently. I noticed that about 2 years after me and him had been dating, according to him, the activity had been ramping up and becoming more common than before when he was younger.
I noticed that sometimes his house gives off a creepy vibe but this was hard to detect because honestly the place is decorated and arranged very pleasantly and it's located in a beautiful part of where we live which is somewhere in the PNW. Well, especially in his bedroom is where I noticed the creepiness coming from which we think is also the center of all the activity. Actually, so, the house was built in the 60's (it's a double wide with an extended room built in after if that helps) and there used to be an older couple that lived in his bedroom and one day the wife died from natural causes in his bedroom. For awhile me and my boyfriend had the theory that the activity was being caused by the spirit of this woman who wasn't happy that a teenage/ young adult boy had been living in her room for years, oh yes by the way he has lived in this house all his life. Buuuttt that theory got debunked when his mom brought in a Catholic medium/ psychic over to the house. She said she detected a presence that was actually male, and she didn't want to say if she felt the spirit was human or.. something else, which I find odd, honestly though this women wasn't very helpful.
However I do think she's right, whatever it is it has a "male" presence. I know this because one of really the only times it's ever messed with me personally was about 2 years ago. It was the morning, I didn't have anything going on that particular day so I stayed in my boyfriends bed to sleep in while he got up for work. Eventually him and his dad (the only other 2 people there that morning) went outside to get things ready for their job, they work together doing construction. So to set the scene, I'm laying in his bed somewhere between sleep and awake while him and his dad are outside, in the bedroom there is a window to the outside where they get things ready, it was closed but it allows me to hear them chatting outside sometimes. It's really, really important to note that when they were talking to each other outside their voices sound muffled and distant. Ok so, all of a sudden I hear a voice, INSIDE the room with me it's a deep male voice, and he goes "I used to be great" I kind of starting to get up and look around while still laying in bed. Now I have to say this isn't usually like me, I do kind of get scared easily but, I think because it was the morning and not night time I felt braver, and another weird thing was that.. I didn't even care which is very very strange of me, because I'm always fascinated by evidence of ghosts existing maybe it's because I was so tired on top of it, I'm not sure. Anyways, I don't think it liked that I was ignoring it for one bit because then, I feel as though something has just rushed up to my face like.. whatever this thing was got up in my face while I was laying in bed and said... something else, unfortunately I can't remember :/ but it was still in this guttural scary, deep male voice and they sounded angry and I could even feel cold air being blown into my face like as if you felt the breath of someone on your face if they/re talking really close to your face. So.. once again this is so strange of me, what did I do? I just rolled over and tried to get more sleep.. completely just trying to ignore what was going on, I guess maybe at the time I felt that was my only option.
I eventually did fall asleep after a couple of minutes and when I did, I had the first and hopefully only sleep paralysis dream I've ever had. It was a typical SP set up I wake up to find that the surroundings looked just like the room I'm sleeping in except I can't move. The only different thing was that .. there was a cat on my chest, a calico cat to be specific I only stayed like this for a couple seconds because in my head I was just like fuck this and started to try to sit up and then when I did, my perception of reality started to shake and rattle like, if you were looking at things through the view finder of a camera and then you start shaking the camera .. kind of hard to explain :/ but it just looked like all of my surroundings were starting to fall apart and then the cat on my chest starting to hiss and meow and it swiped at me in the face and then I woke up laying on my back in my boyfriends room, totally normal.
So yeah, other strange things happen like, for a long stretch of months in the summer to be specific, we would hear scratching everywhere in the walls, wasn't always dedicated to one particular wall or room or anything just randomly, whatever room you were in (this especially happened to me in particular) you would just hear scratching, right wherever you were like as if it was trying to be as close to you as possible. I know know, could be just animals living in the walls buuttt in the summer that makes no sense as it can get so incredibly hot in my opinion no animal would want to be living in those walls in the summer, and it would happen at all different times of the day. Another thing is that my boyfriend has 2 dogs and every so often they both freak out and bark at nothing, it also gets particularly scary when I notice that their eyes seem to be looking around at something we can't see.
For example once my boyfriends vizsla was coming over to give me some love, I was sitting in the middle of the floor beckoning her to come over to me, she was exiting out of my boyfriend's parents bedroom and she had to pass by my boyfriends bedroom in order to come over to where I was. His bedroom door was open and as she passed by she looked inside, she had a stuffed animal in her mouth and when she looked over into his room she dropped it and just started starring, she became visibly more agitated and as soon as I said "Sami, what do you see in there?" she started barking like mad like, so aggressive and not like her at all as she's very gentle but protective. Her gaze starts to shift forward, now looking ahead as if whatever she was looking at in the room came up right over to the front of her face she then starts attacking the stuffed animal she dropped on the ground as if it was alive biting at it viciously and snarling at it. Her eyes are crossed in front of her like she's looking directly in front of her face and I could see this look in her eyes like she was starting to get really scared and shakes the stuffed animal around in her mouth violently and then suddenly throws it really far up in the air and against a wall almost hitting the ceiling. I know that dogs throw things around with their mouths sometimes but she had never done anything like that before, and then she came over to me with her head down looking for comfort, it was so strange.
There's three more big things I need to bring up and then I can get into my theories and questions. 1.st about two months ago, and very important to note when I wasn't there, my boyfriend said that he felt something grab his ankle while he was sleeping, this is big because this is the first instance of whatever this is physically touching him. 2nd. about a week ago I had his house all to myself as him and his family went on a little get away at a casino and I stayed at their house to watch their dogs. That night I wasn't in a good mindset at all but was trying to have a good time by myself. I was hearing the scratching again and frankly just being annoyed by it, it was coming from the large pantry in his kitchen and the scratching would get louder every time I would get closer and examine the inside of the pantry. I just tried to get my mind off of it so I brought out my tarot cards ( I know probably wasn't a good idea if I'm trying to avoid activity) but the tarot cards keep my mind busy, it's a hobby I've been working on and developing my skills on for the past 7 months. I started out by arranging them in an arch shape on the table like as if you took the deck and just spread the cards out in a smooth arch all face down. Now, to be honest I partake in the devils lettuce from time to time and this night was no exception as I was not in good spirits so to sum it up it was making my awfully sleepy and it was late and I had to go to work the next day anyway so I just left my tarot cards out like that, no intention behind it whatsoever other than laziness. The next day I come to the table to find that... somehow... a card had been pulled from the arch right into the middle of it. Now you need to listen to me when I say that I DID NOT DO THIS it wasn't a situation where I figured.. well maybe I did pull a card and I forgot or something, NO, I remember being immediately freaked out but also.. excited. I figured, what's next to do other than flip the card over and see what it is.
The card was.. the 5 of cups which, if you do tarot you would know that is probably in the top 5 most negative cards you can get. It is a card that signifies grief, loss and despair and abandonment, typically people get this card when they've experienced a death of a loved one or an intense break up or some other traumatic event. And the thing is that I have experienced all of those things recently. Soo if this situation wasn't coming off as too complicated, let me add that both me and my bf are actually polyamorous so I had been in a relationship while also being with him, and that person dumped me and the situation was frankly awful and I was lied to and I had felt abandoned. On top of that, this summer I experienced the loss of another guy I used to date, he died of an overdose and I'm still grieving him even though we weren't together anymore when he died I still considered him a friend. So about this card, it's strange because when I told people in my life about this they all asked me, did you feel threatened by this card being somehow magically pulled from the deck? And honestly, I didn't because I felt whatever it was was just telling me.. this is you. Now see if it was the death card, then yes I would feel threatened but this felt different like you could say the 5 of cups already represented me, so seeing that wasn't new information. I wondered if possibly the idk.. spirit or whatever of my dead ex had been the one who pulled it but, I don't know the more I think about it the more I feel like a crazy person.
Lastly, this only happened about 2 days ago and is the reason I've come to the internet for some advice. I was out late but planning to arrive back to sleep at my bf house. I noticed he messaged me "where are you??" at about 11:30pm which I thought was odd because he's not very clingy and just in general lets me be me so this made me worry. I wasn't able to get back until 1 am unfortunately. When I come home I find him sleeping in the guest bedroom, he says I'm not sleeping in my bedroom tonight and when I ask why he proceeds to tell me that earlier while he was laying in his bedroom he was watching something on his phone and he was noticing shadows out of the corner of his eye but he tried to ignore it. He then felt like something was on the bed and when he lowered his phone down he full on sees a completely dark figure so like an outline of a large figure that was all black with no details standing on it's knees(?) at the end of his bed looking at him with it's arms outstretched.
Lets just say, this really really bothered me because in my mind this thing is getting braver and bolder and it's behavior is escalating and me and my boyfriend don't want to wait around until.. one of us gets possessed or something!! So let me get into some leads, well just one lead:
So.. the area where both me and my boyfriend live in my opinion is like the skinwalker ranch of the PNW I mean the town we live in inspired the show Twin Peaks and some of the first and much of the third season of that show was filmed here (another hint at where we live). So on top of all of this activity something else I've been noticing is that my boyfriend has a neighbor who very late into the night is always shining really really really bright lights, in fact so bright that people up to 10 miles away can see them, that's how through small town networking I had met a man who also was seeing these strange lights. He's actually like the towns little paranormal investigator and he invited me to do an interview for him to tell him what I saw. This man is older and has been around and knows a lot of history about our town and the area and he's worked very very closely with the native tribe in our town as if you live in the PNW you are almost guaranteed to be living on native land. He had told me during that interview that where my boyfriend lives is said to be an ancient burial ground for noble native people as it's located on the side of a large mountain which they thought of as sacred. He said he's heard of many strange things happened where my boyfriend lives but didn't explicitly say that it could explain what we experience within his home.
This got me to thinking that perhaps this spirit is of a long dead noble indigenous man of high honor, could that explain why he told me "I used to be great." Some people I tell this story to don't think that as they don't think a native spirit wouldn't be malevolent but I'm inclined to think white people who stole your land and now live on top of your grave would maybe make someone like that pretty angry.
And, frankly that's all I have for an explanation. Some questions I have would be, could this possibly be a actual demon? Or a malevolent spirit? Another thing I wonder is that, my boyfriend is always the one mainly seeing and experiencing the activity while sometimes it messes with me in really weird ways, he seems to not like me and stay away from me, why could this be? Because if demons/ bad spirits are attracted to people with trauma and baggage and depression then I should be the target as I have those in spades, while my boyfriend is a relatively happy guy all the time.
Sorry this was actually really really long but please, anyone have any advice at all? And please please don't suggest saging while I have done saging rituals of my own many times I think it's too far gone in this situation and yes we have saged this house about twice now.

It’s taken me quite some time to decide whether to tell anyone about this. With Mardi Gras coming up again soon, I wanted to make sure people were warned, and know what happened.
Something happened at Mardi Gras last year. And it’s being covered up. Every word of what follows is true.
My friends and I decided to go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. I’ve always heard that the city was a non-stop, twenty-four hour, year round party. I’ve also heard that the days leading up to Mardi Gras take this to the extreme.
There were three of us altogether. Myself, Chris, and Sam. We decided to arrive three days early and build up to the actual day of Mardi Gras. We drove down, taking turns at the wheel so we wouldn’t have to stop at any hotels along the way.
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The First Night
Saturday was our first night there. We’re from New Jersey, where it was about 30 degrees (Fahrenheit) when we left. But when we arrived in New Orleans, it was in the 80s, and very humid.
Our hotel was right on the Mississippi River, and our room had a waterfront view. We settled in, cleaned up, and went out to walk around and check things out. We slowly aimed ourselves toward the French Quarter, checking out as much as we could along the way.
I was a bit shocked that we could just buy beer from vendors right on the street and walk around, unbothered by police. We can’t do that in Jersey.
All in all, we had a great time, great food and drink, and retired to the hotel around 4 am, while the city was still buzzing. As tired as I was, it took a while to fall asleep, due to the loud people partying in the hallway and surrounding rooms.
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The Second Night
Sunday, we went to check out Harrah’s (the casino), and then we made it back out to the streets for the atmosphere and alcohol once again.
While walking around, we met a girl named Antoinette (Toni for short), who told us that she was a local, and that she was going to college there.
Toni suggested we all go to a little restaurant just slightly out of the area, called Le Bon Temps (pronounced: Lay Baw Taw). That translates to “the good times” in English. We all headed down together, and it was a pretty cool little place.
While we were there, I witnessed something that I had previously thought was only done in sitcoms. In the middle of our dinner, the door to the kitchen flew open, slamming against the wall. Out from the kitchen walked a large man, using one hand to carry a smaller employee by the back of his shirt collar. The guy being carried looked like there was something wrong with him. His eyes were half closed and bloodshot, while his face was almost pure white, completely void of expression.
The larger man carried him by the back of his shirt all the way across the restaurant to the front door, where he pushed him outside and shut the door behind him.
On his way back to the kitchen, the large man said “Sorry, folks, but you just can’t show up to work stoned out of your gourd like that.”
There were some giggles from the patrons in reply.
We all drank quite a bit that night and I ended up staying at Antoinette’s place, about a mile away. Chris and Sam said they were going to stay out for a while longer and then go back to the hotel.
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The Third Night
The next day, Monday, I texted my friends that I’d meet up with them later that evening.
I spent the day with Antoinette, and we had a great time. I started wondering if this was too much for me to be getting into, allowing myself to get involved with a girl like this when I live so far away. She was definitely someone who I would want to pursue a relationship with, but I knew I’d be leaving town without her in just a few days. I decided to push these thoughts away, and let the proverbial chips fall where they may. We had two more days. Anything could happen.
While Toni and I were walking back downtown later, I noticed there was a girl walking about a block behind us who seemed to be pretty out of it. I couldn’t tell if she was drunk, high, or what. Toni told me to just ignore her, as she hurried me along.
Once we got to the corner where we were meeting up with Chris and Sam, things began to get strange. As we were crossing the street, I felt a hand on my back, almost like someone was pushing me, although rather weakly. I turned around, and realized that it was the girl who was walking a block behind us earlier. She wasn’t actually pushing me, though. It appeared that she needed to hold onto something to avoid falling over.
We stopped and asked her if she was ok, and she just sort of grunted. At this point, I think we all became concerned. She started mumbling a bit, saying things like “My name is Emily,” “I was with friends, but now I’m here,” and “I live here, that way,” pointing in a direction that was blocked by a parade route.
I asked her, “What happened? Did you lose your friends?,” to which she did not reply.
We were standing right in front of a Burger King. I asked the crowd if someone could get a cup of water for her. Everyone who heard me just looked the other way and kept walking, some giving me the evil eye, as if I had done something wrong. A BK employee near the door said “You get her out of here, now!,” slamming the door shut.
I noticed that Toni was staring at Emily with a very serious look on her face. Toni whispered into my ear, “She isn’t drunk. We should get out of here.”
I replied, “But, shouldn’t we help her? She’s really messed up. We can’t leave her here to die.”
Toni begrudgingly said “Alright, but let’s make this quick.”
We each got on one side and carried Emily along with us down the block, where we came across a security guard standing in front of a parking structure. I stopped and asked the guard if they could help. I explained that we didn’t know what was wrong with her, but that she needed attention, and possibly a ride to the hospital. The guard looked at me like I was stupid. Toni gave her a shrug. The guard then re-focused on Emily. She reached into Emily’s backpack, rifled around a bit, and pulled out an ID card. The guard then said “I’ll take care of this and get her an ambulance. You can go on your way.”
Toni started pulling me along, as I said “thank you” to the guard.
As we were all walking, I asked Antoinette, “What did you mean when you said she wasn’t drunk? Is there something going on that we don’t know about?”
Toni just said, “There’s a lot of strange things going on around here that you don’t want to know about. And neither do I.”
My friends kind of laughed, and we moved along. We had some drinks and got back into the celebratory mood.
Chris mentioned that he had been wanting to check out one of the New Orleans cemeteries that he had read about. Toni did not look enthused.
But, Chris was already in motion. He walked over to one of the police officers who were standing guard, and asked “Hey, do you know where the closest cemetery is?”
The officer looked him dead in the eye and stared for a few seconds. Then… And no, this is not a joke, even though it sounds like a bad slasher movie line… He said, “There’s one just a few blocks over that way, but you don’t want to be going down there.”
Chris smirked. “Why not?”
The officer replied, (And again, he really said this. It’s not just a cheesy line from a horror movie.) “They don’t really like your kind over there.”
I have to be honest. I was kind of freaked out by this interaction. And Toni wasn’t looking happy.
Chris said, “Come on, nothing’s going to happen. This isn’t a horror movie.”
After a long sigh, I replied, “I guess it can’t hurt. I’ve heard that the cemeteries are a sight to see around here.”
We embarked on Chris’ quest, much to the chagrin of the rest of the group.
There was quite a change in the look of the city as we got closer to the cemetery. It went from historic New Orleans chic to… something much less visually appealing. As we drew closer, I started to see and feel eyes on all of us.
As we walked the final stretch to the cemetery entrance, there were at least a dozen people standing on their front porches and in their front yards, looking at us like we were about to do something really stupid.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Toni said quietly.
“Well, we are here, so let’s just be quick about it.” I said.
When we got to the front gate, it was locked. Apparently, visiting hours were over.
“Oh no, I guess we have to leave! Too bad,” said Toni.
Despite our misfortune, we could still see all of the large, creepy and wonderful burial structures through the wrought iron fencing. Because New Orleans is below sea level, bodies are buried above ground. The arrangement of the structures in the cemetery actually looked like a small city. A city of the dead.
The eyes were now piercing the backs of our heads, and we knew something was going to happen if we didn’t get out soon. But, Chris started walking the perimeter of the fencing until he happened upon a crevice big enough for him to try and squeeze through. He told us to follow him. I was hesitant, and Toni was telling me that we need to leave, but I figured a quick adventure inside couldn’t hurt. We’d be gone in a few minutes, not even enough time for police to arrive and catch us. So, we all squeezed through, one by one.
It was getting pretty dark now, and this was really starting to feel wrong. I was just waiting for the doors to start opening and the dead to come out and greet us.
I decided I was done with this place, and said to Chris, “Alright, we’re going back. This is just disrespectful, and the locals obviously don’t want us here.”
He shot back, “Scared, huh?”
I ignored him.
We all squeezed back out, one at a time. Toni went just before me, and I was the last one out. I had a feeling like someone else was behind me, even though I was the last one. Before going through, I looked behind me… And I could swear that in the darkness, the door on one of the structures looked like it was sliding open. I could even hear the faint sound of a cement block scraping across the ground. I’m sure it was just my imagination, but this made me decide to get the heck out of there with the quickness.
We walked silently at a much quicker pace back to the more populated downtown area. The noise and lights in the French Quarter seemed to welcome us home.
------------------------------
Tuesday. Mardi Gras. Carne Vale. A Farewell… To The Flesh.
Today, the streets were twice as crowded as they had been the night before. This was the big day. Tons of new tourists filled the streets, to the point that we literally couldn’t even walk on Bourbon Street. We attempted to, but got stuck in the crowd like someone had tried to fit 100 crayons into a box that was only meant for 50. If anything happened here, we simply wouldn’t be able to move or get out of the way. For the rest of the day, we stuck to the side streets.
As the parades carried on, it became more and more difficult to even go anywhere else, as they were blocking the streets, and thus blocking any way for us to go in the direction that we wanted.
At this point, we kind of gave up and decided “If we can’t beat ‘em, we join ‘em.”
“Let’s just go watch one of the parades,” I said.
The others were indifferent. We all grabbed drinks and walked toward one of the main streets of the city as nightfall was beginning to close in on us.
On our walk, we came upon some sort of dance troupe in the street. There were probably a dozen people in the troupe, all dressed in dark red, tribal looking outfits. Along with their dance, a few played hand drums, and they were all singing in what may have been French. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, though. At some point, the woman in front who appeared to be the leader of the troupe caught my eye and stared with a look as if she was not happy to see me. I saw her look over at Antoinette, then avert her gaze as if she had been caught.
“Let’s go,” said Toni.
As we walked away, I looked back and saw that the woman was staring again, with the same unhappy look on her face.
A few minutes later into our walk, we started to see ahead down the street where it was looking more and more congested with people, to the point of it looking like the main floor of a sold-out rock show. I wondered how these people could deal with being so compressed together.
Toni spoke up.
“We want to stay away from anything that crowded,” she said.
The rest of us agreed.
I said, “Well, let’s just get a little closer. We don’t have to get right in the pit, but I do want to see what’s so exciting over there.”
We kept walking.
As we got closer, something started to seem a bit more clear. Not all of the people were making noise because they were having fun. Some of the merry-making noises turned out to be screams.
As we moved closer, despite Antoinette’s objections, I noticed a small huddle of people in the center. Someone was on the ground. I hurried up to the circle and pushed my way to the inside. What I saw there left me frozen in my tracks. There were two people. One was laying on their back, motionless. The other… was on their knees, hovering over the one on the ground, and it looked… like they were eating their face. Blood was spewing everywhere while gawkers screamed in terror.
Toni grabbed my arm from behind and said “I told you, we have to go!” She pulled at my arm, but I couldn’t avert my gaze from what was happening. Eventually, she pulled hard enough that I lost balance, sort of fell over, then got back up and started retreating with her.
When we got back outside of the circle, we saw that there was another of the exact same scene happening maybe 20 feet away from us in another direction.
“What is happening?!” I screamed.
Then, the first circle we saw was dispersing rapidly as the flesh eater abandoned their meal and started seeking dessert in the crowd. Just like that, another was incapacitated on the ground, becoming seconds.
But there was something else that I noticed while the thing was rising to look for its next victim… It was Emily, the girl who followed us the previous night.
Toni told us that we were going to need to get to her place. As we began running, there were more and more of these things attacking and eating others. Where were they all coming from?
If this wasn’t horrifying enough, I then received the answer to my question. Some of the flesh eaters were missing faces themselves. Just bone, blood and remnants of skin where their faces used to be. And they were using these skeletal faces to eat those of others.
They weren’t ‘coming from’ anywhere. They were being created by the other flesh eaters. As one walked away from their meal, I saw the body of their victim rise and begin chasing their own mark.
I was transfixed on this horrific, spontaneous public meltdown of society happening right before our eyes, when I was suddenly thrust to the ground with great force. I never saw it coming.
I had no idea what was happening. I eventually focused, and realized that I had one of these faceless flesh eaters hovering over me. Blood was dripping from their jowls onto my face. I knew it was all over for me.
Before I could even scream, Antoinette suddenly appeared face to face with the creature hovering over me. Except, she looked different. Her eyes were blood red, and she appeared to have a large set of fang-like teeth protruding from her open mouth.
She used one hand to pick up the creature, bringing it face to face with her. She stared directly into its eyes and let out a guttural, terrifying sound like I’ve ever heard. Whatever this was… The creature was afraid of Toni. She dropped it, and it scrambled off immediately.
She looked at me with her new face and shouted, “Get up and follow me. They won’t touch you now.”
We ran behind her the rest of the way, tears in my eyes as I tried to figure out what was happening.
When we got to her place, Toni locked the doors, and then shook some sort of liquid out of a bottle onto the floor in front of each of the doorways and windows.
“This won’t be over until morning,” she said. Her face was back to normal now.
We all stayed together in the living room that night. I knew that Toni would keep us safe.
When daylight broke, she alerted us that it should be safe now, but that we needed to leave the city and go home immediately. We piled into her car so that she could drive us back to ours at the hotel.
As we drove, I noticed that the streets were now empty, save for what appeared to be clean-up crews picking up the aftermath. Some were power washing the ground where there appeared to be dark stains. There were no bodies, and no flesh eaters out seeking breakfast, from what I could see. We were all dead silent for the entire drive, focused on what was happening outside our windows.
Toni turned on the radio to a news station, and they were reporting that several people had died in what they called “parade float accidents” the prior day.
As Toni said goodbye to us, she hugged me and put a note in my pocket.
I haven’t had the courage to read it yet.
​
CHX

Throughout its first 25 years, Major League Soccer has seen players from all different corners of the globe, each with their own career story. Whether it be a guy like Tim Melia or Chris Wondolowski who were scrappy guys that came out of nowhere to be stars in this league, or world famous names such as Zlatan, Beckham, and Henry, the league's history of big names is as diverse as they come.
Let's take a look at the best player from each country around the globe. This will be based on national team allegiance. Today, we'll be leading with Europe!
Please note that this is my opinion, and in some cases the decisions were tough; I'll be sure to add in honorable mentions where I can, or add notes.
Albania: Shkëlzen Gashi ( COL 2016-18)
Short list to pick from here, as Gashi's only competition is Jahmir Hyka and Hamdi Salihi. Gashi gets the nod, if nothing else, for his huge 2016 season, where he scored 10 regular season goals (one of which was that year's Goal of the Year) as the Rapids damn near won the Shield. The madlad then went and one-upped that with his absurd equalizer in the playoffs against the Galaxy.
His last two years weren't as fruitful, but man, when he was on he could pull something out of nowhere.
Armenia: Yura Movsisyan ( KC 2006-07, RSL 2007-09 & 2016-18, CHI 2018)
Four choices here, although in the end it's Movsisyan winning out over Harut Karapetyan, who played a couple seasons in the 90s for the Galaxy, San Jose, and Tampa Bay. The fourth pick in a strong 2006 MLS SuperDraft out of Pasadena City College, Movsisyan is mostly associated with RSL, who acquired him in a 2007 trade. With the Claret and Cobalt, he would tally 15 goals in 53 regular season appearances, and in 2009 he'd hoist the club's first MLS Cup. That'd be his last game with RSL until 2016 after some time in Europe with Randers, Krasnodar, and Spartak Moscow (even sharing the Russian PL Golden Boot in 2012/13 with Wanderson). He'd put up a similar clip of 16 in 57 before being waived and finishing his MLS career with four scoreless games with Chicago.
Austria: Daniel Royer ( NYRB 2016-pres.)
The choice here was largely Royer vs. Andreas Ivanschitz, who was a regular starter for Seattle's first MLS Cup, but I can't say no to a man with over 100 MLS matches played and three straight 10-goal seasons. In all comps, the former Austria Vienna man is just two goals behind Thierry Henry for third on the Red Bulls' all time goal scoring list.
Belarus: Sasha Gotsmanov ( COL 2005)
Gotsmanov qualifies by default as the only Belarusian player in MLS history. The Minsk native (and son of former Soviet and Belarusian international Sergei Gotsmanov) played one (1) single game for Colorado in October 2005, against RSL.
Belgium: Laurent Ciman ( MTL 2015-17, LAFC 2018, TFC 2019-pres.)
Shouts to Roland Lamah, who had his moments in Dallas, and Jelle van Damme, who played a season and a half for the Galaxy, but Ciman is the obvious choice. While he's fallen off a cliff as he's gotten older, he's a three-time All-Star and won Defender of the Year in his first MLS season; in his second, he played for Belgium at Euro 2016. At 35, he's lost a step and probably should only be used in emergencies, but at his best he was an elite MLS center back that could also be deployed at right back.
Bosnia & Herzegovina: Haris Medunjanin ( PHI 2017-19, CIN 2020-pres.)
The first one where I'm not totally confident in my pick, as Baggio Hušidić made this tricky (and as a Union fan I'm afraid of bias). But at his best, Haris is an assist machine (30 in four MLS seasons so far), and a threat on set pieces; the madlad even scored an Olimpico this year. His left foot is probably the best the Union have ever had. While his commitment to defense was nonexistent, give him the ball and he could spray a pass anywhere.
Bulgaria: Hristo Stoichkov ( CHI 2000-02, DC 2003)
One of three former Ballon d'Or winners to play in MLS (the others being Lothar Matthaus and Kaka, although "playing" is generous for the former), Stoichkov spent the last four seasons of his career in MLS, scoring 22 goals in 72 regular season matches for Chicago and DC. In his first season, a 9 goal in 18 match outing for the Fire, he also won the US Open Cup, scoring the opening goal of the final, a 2-1 win over Miami. (The winning goal, by the way, was scored by our old friend Owen Goal.)
Croatia: Damir Kreilach ( RSL 2018-pres.)
Mr. Miyagi's favorite MLS player for his crane kick equalizer in the playoffs, the former Rijeka and Union Berlin man has proven to be an excellent utility piece and core part of RSL throughout his time there, scoring 26 goals and chipping in 14 assists in 86 regular season matches and playing all over the damn place (naturally a central midfielder, he's probably still RSL's best forward). At 31, he still has a lot to give.
MLS has seen a huge influx of Croats lately, though; before Kreilach's 2018 signing there had only been four Croatian players in MLS history, two of whom barely played. Currently, there are five on active rosters.
Czechia: Luboš Kubík ( CHI 1998-2001, DAL 2001)
Czech players have had a good hit rate in MLS. In his lone MLS season, Bořek Dočkal led the league in assists, and Zdeněk Ondrášek was a very solid piece for Dallas, albeit one whose MLS time was brief.
But no. We have to go with Kubik. The sweeper was Best XI twice, in 1998 and 1999, and won Defender of the Year in 1998 helping Chicago to a MLS Cup-Open Cup double. He'd win another Open Cup two years later, before being traded to Dallas in 2001 and retiring due to injury.
So many lethal counterattacks started on the foot of this man, and he is rightfully seen as one of the greatest defenders the league has ever seen.
Denmark: Jimmy Nielsen ( KC 2010-13)
I debated going WAYYYYYYY off the board here and throwing out Miklos Molnar. His time in MLS was brief, just the 2000 season before he retired, but the man was the best attacking piece on a Cup winner. He could have balled out if he didn't retire early.
But nah. We're going with Casino Jimmy, one of the keys towards Kansas City's early 2010s turnaround. A two time All-Star, Nielsen was Goalkeeper of the Year in 2012, a year that also saw him win the Open Cup with the Wiz (on penalties, because KC and penalties, name a more iconic duo at this point). In 2013, he capped off his career by winning MLS Cup, again on penalties, while playing with broken ribs.
England: Bradley Wright-Phillips ( 2013-2019, LAFC 2020)
This league, man.
The list of English players to have represented in MLS is a long one, full of iconic names. Ashley Cole. David Beckham. Frank Lampard. Steven Gerrard. Jermain Defoe. Wayne Rooney. Hell, even Bradley's brother Shaun.
But nope. Many of those guys are the butt of many MLS jokes. BWP, on the other hand, is one of the greatest goal scorers the league has ever seen, with two Golden Boots to his name and well over a century of league goals. He was a part of 3 Shield winning teams, and made CONCACAF's Best XI in 2018.
And it all started with a quiet trial in 2013 after Charlton dumped him. This. League.
And This. Man. Even as a fan of Philly who doesn't care much for the Red Bulls, I respect this dude and everything he's done. I hope he gets another year after winning Comeback Player of the Year this year.
Estonia: Joel Lindpere ( NYRB 2010-12, CHI 2013)
The only other option here was Erik Sorga, who could dethrone Lindpere as he came to MLS at a very young age. But it's unlikely, as Lindpere was quietly very solid for the Red Bulls during his time. The Tallinn native was a two-time All-Star, and in 2010 he was named the Red Bulls' team MVP.
Finland: Alex Ring ( NYC 2017-2020, AUS pres.)
T O P I C A L
There's a few fairly talented Finns in MLS right now that could make this interesting (I really like Robin Lod's game, and Lassi Lappelainen would be excellent for Montreal if he'd stop getting hurt). Ring however has proven his worth across 4 seasons, including time as NYC's captain. Over 10,000 MLS minutes, mostly for good teams, as a defensive anchor, he will be a fantastic tone-setter for the new Austin team.
France: Thierry Henry ( NYRB 2010-14)
Oh man, as an Ireland fan I wanted to give this to literally anyone else. I am still bitter, dammit.
His best competition is probably Aurelien Collin, who has a closetful of trophies (including a Best XI and MLS Cup MVP). But no...it's Henry.
When a big name comes to MLS, what people want to see is someone who treats the league with respect. Henry did that. Not only was he dominant on the pitch, a three-time Best XI nomination, he also respected the history of the club he played for and gave 100%, even though he was getting up there in the years. He's a Red Bulls and MLS legend...as much as I curse that godforsaken hand
Georgia: Valeri "Vako" Qazaishvili ( SJ 2017-20)
It looks like the San Jose chapter of Vako's career is done and dusted. While the former Vitesse man struggled for consistency, he did put up 26 goals and 13 assists across four MLS seasons for the Quakes, including 10 while being coached by Mikael Stahre, which should probably get him and Wondo some sort of award.
We'll see what's next for him, if he leaves MLS or goes back to Europe. His only competition was Quakes teammate Guram Kashia.
Germany: Bastian Schweinsteiger ( CHI 2017-19)
I'm...actually not sure about this one. I actually changed this while writing, as I very nearly chose Julian Gressel; the former Rookie of the Year has two 10-assist seasons under his belt, and Kai Wagner has also been one of the league's better fullbacks for Philadelphia; Schweinsteiger was solid enough for Chicago in his advanced age for some very frustrating teams (and even moved positions to center back!)...but man, I don't know.
Germany is weird. For a country with such a great footballing tradition, the pickings are fairly slim. Arne Friedrich had one good year for Chicago before injuries claimed his career. Lottar Matthaus was as committed to this league as Schalke are to winning football matches. Stefan Aigner was stifled by Anthony Hudson going galaxy brain. Torsten Frings...existed.
I dunno.
Greece: Alexandros Tabakis ( ATL 2017)
The only Greek in MLS history...and our second one game wonder. Atlanta's FOURTH string keeper in 2017, he managed to sneak into a game against Minnesota with Brad Guzan on international duty, Alec Kann injured, and Kyle Reynish sent off during the match.
Atlanta lost 3-2. He's now in USL.
Hungary: Nemanja Nikolić ( CHI 2017-19)
Dániel Sallói and Krisztián Németh had their moments, but the winner is Nikolić, who came to MLS from the Ekstraklasa and immediately won the Golden Boot. His totals diminished in the three seasons he spent with Chicago, but 51 goals in 96 appearances isn't too shabby at all - it's second in Fire history behind Ante Razov.
Iceland - Guðmundur Þórarinsson ( NYC 2020-pres.)
Not much choice, 3 guys, all of whom were mostly bench guys. I almost went with Kristinn Steindorsson here on the merits of "he didn't have a penalty saved by Rodrigo Schlegel."
Israel: Gadi Kinda ( SKC 2020-pres.)
It was either him or Dedi Ben Dayan, really. And I nearly went with the former Colorado left back, but nah, Kinda is very much the superior player. The midfielder born in Ethiopia, Kinda shone brightly in his first season in KC, with 6 goals and 4 assists in his debut season. He'll be a DP next season.
Italy: Sebastian Giovinco ( TOR 2015-18)
A signing that changed an entire club.
Before Giovinco, the Reds were a laughingstock. He came in, won a Golden Boot and MVP right away, led the league in assists, made Best XI three years in a row, led them to their first playoff game, their first MLS Cup final, their first MLS Cup win, and a historic treble. And they damn near won CCL too.
The Atomic Ant was must-see from Day 1. It's not just because of him that Toronto is now one of MLS's elite...but he was a huge part of changing that culture. 83 goals in 142 games in all comps. And he dished out his fair share of assists too, with a telepathic partnership with Jozy.
Latvia: Raivis Hščanovičs ( TOR 2010)
Not much to write about here. 14 games for a bad Reds team. Gets in by default with no other Latvian MLS players.
Liechtenstein: Nicholas Hasler ( TOR 2017-18, CHI 2018-19, SKC 2019)
Another one by default. 66 games as a utilityman. Won MLS Cup and the Shield, though.
Lithuania: Vytautas Andriuškevičius ( POR 2016-18, DC 2018)
Only other choice was Edgaras Jankauskas, a forward who played 14 games for the Revs. Vytas played 37 for Portland and zero for DC.
Luxembourg: Maxime Chanot ( NYC 2016-pres.)
Another one by default but this one's an actually really solid player that finished fourth in Defender of the Year voting in 2019. We take those.
Malta: Etienne Barbera ( VAN 2012)
2 games in 2012. Only Maltese player in MLS.
Montenegro: Branko Bošković ( DC 2010-12)
Pretty much every other Montenegrin player played less than 20 games in MLS. Bošković played 43 before returning to Europe for family reasons. 7 assists in his final season though, which is technically something.
Netherlands: Johan Kappelhof ( CHI 2016-pres.)
Much like Germany, bright footballing tradition, very shaky MLS history. Which is weird because the Eredivisie exports a lot of guys to MLS.
Also, I'm excluding Kelvin Leerdam, as he is probably changing his international allegiance to Suriname.
So I'm going with 2017 All-Star Kappelhof, who I think is still fairly solid.
But really the choices aren't great. Dave van den Burgh? Roland Alberg scored a hat trick once I guess? Danny Koevermans was decent but injured all the time?
Maybe it's a hot take. It probably is.
North Macedonia: Oka Nikolov ( PHI 2013)
Never actually played, only in a friendly. Watch this space though as North Macedonia is apparently courting LAFC's Danny Musovski.
Northern Ireland: Johnny Steele ( RSL 2012, NYRB 2013-14)
Another case of shaky opposition, it was either Steele or Steve Morrow, who played 41 games for Dallas in the aughts.
Steele played regularly for a Shield winner, the 2013 Red Bulls. Easy peasy.
Norway: Vadim Demidov Ola Kamara ( CLB 2016-17, LAG 2018, DC 2019-pres.)
Adama Diomande is the main competition here. Kamara's first stint in MLS was a smashing success, scoring 48 goals in 90 regular season matches for Columbus and the Galaxy (he was traded for Gyasi Zardes before 2018). A brief foray to China followed, and while he's back in MLS with DC he hasn't quite been the same.
Still a good player on his day, maybe just the Bennyball effect.
Poland: Piotr Nowak ( CHI 1998-2002)
When I think of early Chicago, Nowak and the earlier-mentioned Kubik are the first two names that come to mind. Kubik held down the back while Nowak was the chief creator in the midfield. Three-time best XI, three-time All-Star, and MLS Cup MVP.
...can I drink my water now?
Portugal: José Gonçalves ( NE 2013-16)
Gonçalves fell off a cliff in his latter years, but in his first MLS season he won Defender of the Year and in his second he was a key part of a team that made the MLS Cup final and damn near won the thing.
Runner up here is Nani who is probably closing in.
EDIT: I also forgot to mention Pedro Santos, thanks to the Crew fans who pointed that one out. I still think Gonçalves pips him for his 2013 if nothing else, but Santos is probably closer than Nani.
Republic of Ireland: Robbie Keane ( LAG 2011-16)
A LOT closer than you think; Time Person of the Century Juventus legend Ronnie O'Brien was two-time best XI himself.
But nonono. This is Robbie freaking Keane. When we see these big name Euro guys interested in MLS, this is the man we want them to be.
Hypercompetitive and holding guys accountable on and off the pitch, and scoring for fun. 83 goals in 125 MLS regular season appearances. Best XI four times. 2014 MVP. MLS Cup MVP in 2014. A closetful of team awards including 3 MLS Cups.
This man was a baller, and frankly his departure was the beginning of the Galaxy decline into irrelevance, but that's a story for another time.
Romania: Alexandru Mitriță ( NYC 2019-pres.?)
Question mark because he's on loan and I have no idea if it'll be permanent, but he was punted out by the Pigeons just as he was really starting to break out. He scored 12 goals in his debut season last year but filled in nicely this year while Maxi Moralez was injured. EDIT: NYC fans have informed me he wasn't punted out, but was loaned out to be closer to his pregnant wife. My apologies.
Honorable mention: Alex Zotincă, who played for the Wizards and Chivas USA in the aughts. Brave man.
Russia: Igor Simutenkov ( KC 2002-04)
Not a lot to pick from here either. 49 games, 12 goals for this forward from Moscow, who now serves as an assistant coach at Zenit.
Scotland: John Spencer ( COL, 2001-04)
Give Johnny Russell another few years and he'll pass Spencer, but for now I'm leaning the latter. Spencer as a coach was frustrating as hell, but as a player he was Best XI twice and an MVP finalist once. Dude could score goals despite battling injuries in his time in MLS.
Just don't let him sign Kris Boyd. Then you lose to Cal FC. No one wants that.
Serbia: Aleksandar Katai ( 2018-19, 2020)
FROM A SPORTING PERSPECTIVE.
And mostly due to a weak pool. Runner up was probably someone like Miloš Kocić.
18 goals in 62 games for Chicago before getting yeeted back to Serbia for Bad People Reasons
Slovakia: Albert Rusnák ( RSL 2017-pres.)
He has tenure on Ján Greguš, who's the closest competitor, but Rusnák is also good. He followed up a 14-assist debut season (4th in the league) with back to back 10 goal seasons before struggling this year with injury.
Slovenia: Robert Berić ( CHI 2020-pres.)
Once he got acclimated to MLS, the goals came, and Chicago has its successor to Nikolić up top. He finished with 12 goals in his debut season, tied for second in the league with Ruidiaz and Zardes.
Also, from what I saw early on, seems like he's a dark-arts type of guy that gets in your head. That's fun.
Spain: David Villa ( NYC 2015-18)
I really didn't want to put him here due to recent allegations, and the fact that Pozuelo has already matched his MVP and two Best XI performances....
77 goals in 117 games though, that's tough to pass on.
Sweden: Zlatan Ibrahimović ( LAG 2018-19)
It's Zlatan.
He pretty much dragged a sorry LA organization to something resembling competitiveness.
What the hell did you expect?
(Anton Tinnerholm made this hard, though)
EDIT: Forgot Gustav Svensson as well in my honorable mentions.
Switzerland: Stefan Frei ( TOR 2009-13, SEA 2014-pres.)
Pretty self-explanatory, one of the most accomplished keepers in MLS history and with a closetful of hardware. And all it took Seattle to get him was a late first round pick that pinged around so much that it was eventually traded for a coach.
Turkey: Sercan Güvenışık ( SJ 2012)
5 games that year. No one else has flown the Turkish flag in MLS.
Ukraine: Dema Kovalenko ( CHI 1999-2002, DC 2002-05, NYRB 2006-08, RSL 2008, LAG 2008-10)
I'm afraid he'd break my legs if I didn't. One of the most physical and downright dirty players the league has ever seen. Made nearly 300 appearances though, and has one each of the 3 major US trophies (MLS Cup, USOC, Shield), all with a different team.
Wales: Andy Dorman ( NE 2004-07, 2013-15)
Dorman was a key part of that real good Revs team from the mid-aughts, and just beats out Carl Robinson. He made 112 appearances in his first stint, and played in 3 MLS Cup finals, though they famously lost all three. The Revs brought him back in 2013 after some time in Scotland and England, and was playing semipro in the area as recently as 2018.

Ok, so, I was recently rereading The Crying of Lot 49 last night, specifically Chapter 3, and I do feel I have a strange hypothesis about sections of that chapter that may be a complete projection, but the more that I look into the content of the sections I will parse out in particular, and the more research that I do, the more evidence seems to fall in place that sort of freaks me out and confirms my theory. Being freaks yourselves, I thought this would be the place for me to project my world, so to speak, and see if what I’m seeing is in any way based in reality or if I’m instead way off base.
My hypothesis is that Chapter 3 of The Crying of Lot 49, and specifically the Lake Inverity/Bone charcoal/Tony JaguaFangoso Lagoon section might be subtextually about Disneyland. I have struggled to find much about these particular sections of this chapter related to Disney. I own J. Kerry Grant’s A Companion to Lot 49, have scoured the Pynchon Wiki, read the reddit post discussion for Chapter 3 of this book, and tried Googling as much about it as I could, and I haven’t found anything to suggest Disneyland, so this is either a relatively new idea or one that is inaccurate as hell. Oh, boy!
To begin, I will say, I am fascinated and obsessed with Disneyland and Disney World which is maybe why I found some of the information I found within Lot 49 to begin with. One could say I have a perverse fascination with the 2 theme parks which has led me to all manner of revelations. In the same way that Pynchon, being from what I can tell, a heretical Catholic, has a perverse fascination with the sacred through the filter of the profane, I am somehow deeply attracted to and obsessed with all things Disney even though I think they are essentially a fascist, culturally banal, destructive force. Similar to how I believe Oedipa may have with Disneyland in the novel, I “fell in love with it (41).” What can I say?
The first half of Chapter 3 which I will focus on, involves Oedipa’s continued revelations. She gets her first peek at WASTE, the Tristero, the posthorn, and the Boeing-esque Yoyodyne is introduced. The plot of the novel really starts to thicken, or to put it a different way, the tapestry, the maaswork, really starts to come together, narrative threads criss-crossing every which way in all directions at once. A resource that was helpful for much of my understanding of this chapter and even just in how I read much of Lot 49 in general is Charles Hollander’s article on the novel: “Pynchon, JFK, and the CIA.” I’ll post it below.
https://www.vheissu.net/articles/hollander_49.php
Chapter 3, according to Hollander, is where some of the first hints of JFK’s assasination are placed. According to Hollander, this chapter uses allusion, parody, analogy, and enthymeme to encode its secret message about the JFK assassination. Mike Faloppian’s Peter Pinguid Society’s Dallas chapter certainly suggests this. I mention this, partially, to say that, in a way, I could maybe call what I’m trying to figure out here “Pynchon, Disney, and the CIA,” since in many ways what I’m wrestling with is what I perceive to be many hidden references to Disney's shaddy dealings throughout 40s and 50s Californian history. Disney World, in particular, does have a direct history of involvement with the CIA with regard to how it acquired its real estate holdings, for example, which interestingly enough is what a chunk of this chapter is about when it comes to its references to Inverarity (not Disney World, but real estate holdings in general, Inverarity's more specifically).
The first section of the chapter that gave me some strange vibes regarding Disneyland was the section where Metzger, Oedipa, and the Paranoids go to Fangoso Lagoon, “one of Inverarity’s last big projects (40).” I will quote some of these sections below where these vibes first made themselves known.
“Somewhere beyond the battering, urged sweep of three-bedroom houses rushing by their thousands across the dark beige hills, somehow implicit in an arrogance or bite to the smog the more inland somnolence of San Narciso did lack, lurked the sea, the unimaginable Pacific, the one to which all surfers, beach pads, sewage disposal schemes, tourist incursions, sunned homosexuality, chartered fishing are irrelevant, the hole left by the moon’s tearing-free and monument to her exile; you could not hear or smell this but it was there, something tidel began to reach feelers in past eyes and eardrums, perhaps to arouse fractions of brain current your most gossamer microelectrode is yet too gross for finding (40-41).”
This first quote stood out to me because it reminded me of the printed circuit Oedipa sees in Chapter 2. At the beginning of Chapter 2, Oedpia looks out at the landscape and sees it as deeply controlled, planned, almost machine-like or circuit-like. I don’t think this is a wildly different passage from that one. It, like the previous seciton forces the reader to ask the question: how did America come to be how it is now? This is an important question Lot 49 is always forcing its reader to ask. How did the deep conservatism or fascism creep in? Would the answer not be the subject of this book? Communication systems. What company is in charge of some of the most monopolized forms of our communication systems to this day? Disney, of course! Is this an accident? Was it planned? The malignant, magic forces referenced in Chapter 1 may have made it so, may have “urged [the] sweep of three-bedroom houses rushing by their thousands across the dark beige hills (40).” Surely the Walt Disney Company has done as much as any to reinforce suburban 3-bedroom forms of existence that have had a stranglehold on our cultural existence for so many years, than just about any, right? But this was just where I started to get the first inkling of vibes about Disneyland. To continue with another quote:
“They came in among earth-moving machines, a total absence of trees, the usual hieratic geometry, and eventually, shimmying for the sand roads, down in a helix to a sculpted body of water named Lake Inverarity. Out in it, on a round island of fill among blue wavelets, squatted the social hall, a chunky ogived and verdigrised, Art Nouveau reconstruction of some European pleasure-casino. Oedpia fell in love with it (41).”
This is where my paranoia really got going. Much of the description of the passage above does not sound like a man-made lake or lagoon. Far from it. Lake Inverarity is described as “a round island of fill,” that contains a “social hall,” and as a “Art Nouveau reconstruction of some European pleasure-casino.” That sounds much more like Disneyland than just a man-made lake created by a real-estate developer? Also with Oedpia being a consistent parody of housewives in suburban America, it would make sense that she would fall in love with Lake Inverarity if it is, in fact, Disneyland. Plus, there might be another hint in the name Lake Inverarity itself, since it is the only holding named after Inverarity specifically, just as Disneyland is named after Disney himself. I don’t believe that Inverarity is a direct analogy for Disney specifically, but I do believe he is instead an analogy for any of the unseen hyper-capitalist forces that have come to dominate our culture, Disney clearly being one example.
And just a side note before I continue with some of my evidence. It would make complete sense, this being a novel about Southern California, its real-estate development, and history, that Pynchon would eventually have to get to Disneyland. It is a property in Southern California, that especially between 1955 and 1965 had to have HUGE influence. How could he not incorporate it even if it was only referred to passively or encoded into the references of the text (much in the same way Hollander argues that Pynchon does the same for JFK’s assassination). There is another passage that REALLY got me convinced about my above theory, the section where Manny DiPresso is discussing the bone charcoal “used in the R&D phase of the filter program. Back around the early 50’s.” Here it is:
“Presently the bodies sank and stayed where they were till the early ‘50s, when Tony Jaguar, who’d been a corporal in an Italian outfit attached to the German force at Lago diPieta and knew about what was at the bottom, decided among some colleagues to see what he could salvage. All they managed to come up with was bones. Out of some murky train of reasoning, which may have included the observed fact that American tourists beginning then to be plentiful, would pay good dollars for almost anything; and stories about Forest Lawn and the American cult of the dead; possibly some dim hope that Senator McCarthy, and others of his persuasion, in those days having achieved a certain ascendancy over the rich cretini from across the sea, would somehow refocus attention on the fallen of WWII, especially ones whose corpses had never been found; out of such labyrinth of assumed motives, Tony Jaguar decided he could surely unload his harvest of bones on some American someplace through his contacts in the “family,” known these days as Costa Nostra. He was right. An import-export firm bought the bones, sold them to a fertilizer enterprise, which may have used one or two femurs for laboratory tests but eventually decided to phase entirely into menhaden instead and transferred the remaining several tons to a holding company, which stored them in a warehouse outside of Fort Wayne, Indiana, for maybe a year before Beaconsfield got interest (47).”
When I read “which may have included the observed fact that American tourists beginning then to be plentiful, would pay good dollars for almost anything,” I could not think of anything but Disneyland. In his historiographic metafictions, Pynchon often superimposes historical realities onto present ones in order to make political, social, and religious commentary that would otherwise be inexpressible. An easy example is the fact that Gravity’s Rainbow is a novel about 1960’s America set in Britain during World War II. In the above passage, if Pynchon is superimposing the strange, seemingly random history of “an Italian outfit attached to the German force at Lago diPieta.” and is using this as an analogy, to project a world that speaks to his present day, I don’t know how Pynchon couldn’t be referring to Disneyland. The novel is set in Southern California, the place where Pynchon lived in 1965. Wouldn’t Disneyland, the rise of tourism, how that was changing the landscape of America and hijacking the “family,” its communication systems, propaganda, and culture, wouldn't all that have been on his mind? I have a few more quotes and then a possibly even more major revelation before I feel I can finally feel I’ve made my point.
Later on in the Lagoon, the Paranoids start smoking pot, and the following happens:
“[B]y holding up the glowing roaches of their cigarettes like a flipcard section at a football game, to spell out alternative S’s and O’s, attracted the attention of the Fangoso Lagoons Security Force, a garrison against the night made up of one-time cowboy actors and L.A. motorcycle cops (49).”
I believe this “one-time cowboy actor” reference to be a reference to Ronald Regan, a fixture of southern California and one-time cowboy actor, and yet another thread in the patchwork connections to Disney. On October 24, 1947, Walt Disney and Ronald Regan both testified against communism, naming particular individuals they found nefarious communists within the film industry (another communication industry, one could say) before the House of Un-American Activities Committee. Which got me thinking, with all the mob references in the above section about Lago diPeta and the bones, was Disney ever involved with the mafia or mob, with “Costa Nostra?” I didn’t find much, but I did find something extremely interesting, which also led to one final even more strange realization. Read the link below, it lays out the story of Willie Bioff, a mobster who attempted to but failed to help break up Disney’s Union Strike in the 1940’s.
https://babbittblog.com/2016/10/09/disney-and-the-mob-willie-bioff/
This may seem unrelated to Pynchon’s “parable of power,” but earlier in the chapter when Mike Fillopian is discussing Russia and America, clearly also, yet again using a historical detail as a historiographic metafiction, superimposing a historical reality onto a present one, in this case, that of the cold war, when Fillopian mentions “After the confrontation, appalled at what had to be some military alliance between Russia...and a Union that paid lip service to abolition while it kept its own industrial laborers in a kind of wage-slavery (36),” its fairly clear which side of the picket-isle Pynchon would have been during an animator strike of Disney in the 1940s, or any strike for better treatment, for that matter. In Lot 49, Pynchon has written a "parable of power" about the various ways the circuit board of American life has reinforced the indentured servitude of supposed abolitionists, which in our modern world, could easily be a stand in for the structures of neo-liberalism. And nothing on this earth is more an example of banal neoliberal capitalism than Disneyland, nothing (except for maybe Epcot, of course). This is a lot of information, and I may not have done a very good job of connecting it all or being as explicit as I could have at explaining how specific references hint at Disney throughout the chapter, and this has already become too long, HOWEVER, I have one final piece of information that blows my DAMN MIND that is likely coincidental, but which I still could not believe I found.
Inspired by the book and wanting to find more connections in the tapestry, I started doing research into Disney’s involvement with the FBI and found some public records about his direct involvement with them on the FBI's website. Walt Disney was a SAC (Special Agent in Charge) for the FBI, according to these documents, for a period of time, interestingly enough, in the late 50s. There are literal letters to Disney from J. Edgar Hoover himself to Disney in these documents. I’ll post them below along with a number of other links that discuss Disney’s connection to the FBI, the last one being particularly fascinating in its connections to the novel.
https://vault.fbi.gov/walter-elias-disney/walter-elias-disney-part-01-of-03/view
http://www.schaakstukkenmuseum.nl/?p=2195&lang=en
http://jfk.hood.edu/Collection/Weisberg%20Subject%20Index%20Files/F%20Disk/FBI/FBI%20Press%20Use%20Of/Item%2009.pdf
https://www.mouseplanet.com/8987/The_Mickey_Mouse_Club_FBIs_Most_Wanted
I very much suggest looking at the Mouse Planet link above. If you have read The Crying of Lot 49 and know who Baby Igor and Metzger is, I VERY MUCH SUGGEST IT. Upon reading this and looking at all the other material, I discovered that there was a child-star, mentioned specifically in these documents, that was to be the child used in a set of documentaries Disney was to make as propaganda films for the FBI specifically, promoting them to the public in 1958. This child’s name was Dirk Metzger. I shit you not. His name was METZGER and he was a child star whose father was in the military. READ THE ARTICLE. His daddy, his doggy, and HIM! And guess what, look at what his profession became after being a child actor in these films? Guess it was: he became a lawyer!!! Baby Igor himself! In the flesh!? Look at the article. It’s all there. I can’t fucking believe it!? Now, I admit, this is all probably just a coincidence. Being 14 in 1958 would put Metzger at being only 21 or so in 1965 when the Crying of Lot 49 came out, so it is unlikely that this is exactly what I think it is, a direct, real, historical correlation, but who knows? Pynchon lived in California at the time. Who knows whom or what he may have come across...
Maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t there. Maybe Disneyland is nowhere to be found in the California of The Crying of Lot 49. Maybe this is all, as Hilarius would say, a Rorsoch blot. Maybe I’m simply hallucinating. I will say though, either way, I do think the political exigence of The Crying of Lot 49 has done its work on me. Even if this is only an ink blot, a world I’m projecting rather than one that is actually there, I have certainly done more thinking about Disney, its union-busting, suburban-infused. McCarthy-ian underbelly than I have, maybe ever, and that power, and Pynchon's parable of power he wrote in reaction to it, is something that is very much alive and with us today, it is a power that is still creating indentured servitude and whose malignant, “formless magic” is igniting all around us. Hopefully I, like Oedpia, have gotten a little closer to understanding how it works and counting its line of force. Maybe,
“If the tower is everywhere and the knight of deliverance no proof against its magic, what else?”

Hello! So, if you haven’t been listening to the news about the stock market (because, I mean, normally, who would?) we’re in a very interesting situation right now with a subreddit here (WallStreetBets) going up against large hedge funds in a short squeeze war. And I think this would be the perfect time for a educatinment channel to maybe help explain what the h e double toothpicks is happening. Not to make any predictions really, but to explain what the stock market is, what does it mean to short a stock, what is a short squeeze, and why does a bunch of random, self-described idiots (seriously, they call themselves this on the subreddit among less appropriate terms) are able to make the big wall street hedge funds freak out.
“But this isn’t finance theory!” You may be saying. “What does this have to do with games?” One word friends - GameStop (or is that two words mashed together?). The stock that started this whole debacle is our friendly, brick-and-mortar, “I’ll give you 25 cents for your closet of used games”, GameStop. But certain people saw that they overreached their bounds - They were selling stocks they didn’t even have. So what do those savvy internet folks do? They buy. And buy a lot. In fact, they buy so many shares that the big guys can’t buy the stocks they promised to return. So the price for stocks go up, supply and demand right?
And so I think that Game Theory, with it’s mission to make hard to grasp concepts and ideas more attainable through video games and pop culture, should take this on and help explain how the game of Wall Street is played. Just as a short list of topics to cover and a brief explanation - I’m sure the GT team can come up with a better, more entertaining, analogy and such:
• What is a stock and a share? - A share is basically a small partial ownership of a company, and the stock of a company is basically all the shares together
• What does shorting a stock mean? - It means someone borrows shares from someone, sells it, hopes the stock prices go down, buy the shares back for cheap, and return it to the lender, pocketing the difference. This means that it’s in the stock broker’s best interest to see the company who’s shares they sold fail.
• What is a naked short? - Basically it means you’re selling shares that you don’t have or don’t even exist - sounds illegal right? Well, it is. But the big guys do it anyways.
• What is a short squeeze? - It’s when people take advantage of those trying to short a stock by buying a lot of cheap shares, holding them, and forcing the stock to skyrocket as short sellers scramble to buy back their shares before they lose their bets, and yeah, Wall Street is basically gambling with the economy instead of a casino.
• And finally, why is this such a big deal? - Because it’s a historic moment - a group of random, everyday joes online are able to make the big hedge funds and Wall Street guys shake in their boots. Remember how I said Wall Street is basically gambling without a casino? Well, in many cases, it’s rigged gambling. Hedge funds and big players have stacked the decks in their favor so much that they forgot there’s a risk to gambling - in fact, when they see a risk, they bend the rules even more to stop any chance of failure. The limited ways for everyday people to participate in the stock market, for example through apps like Robinhood, were restricted - you could only sell GameStop shares for a while, then they back pedaled and say you can buy 1 share, and now I think they’re saying 2, oh but the big guys could buy things just fine - clearly market manipulation. EDIT: Oh and by the time I finished posting this, they’ve also started a disinformation campaign about stocks being “closed” or “ran out of time” - which is false, stocks and shares can’t be closed, options can be, but that’s something different - An option is essentially an agreement saying “If this stock’s price goes to a certain amount by a certain date, I want the option to buy/sell it in the future for this agreed upon price”
That’s what made the ordinary people of reddit, in classic internet contrarian fashion, go from “Lol let’s mess with these guys and get the stock to $420.69 for the memes” (yes, that was actually a goal at first) to “You know what? Screw it! We’re sending this **** to the moon! You want to break the rules? Just try us”
TL;DR: Regardless of how it all pans out, this is a prime time to educate folks on how the stock market works, and the fact that it involves 1) Actual game theory for when to hold or sell shares, and 2) centers around GameStop, a video game retailer, well, it seems like a perfect time to me. After all, Game Theory have done theories with a lesser connection (KFConsole, I’m looking at you - you and all your chicken hearing goodness)
Also - Easy title or thumbnail: The deal with GameStonks

Hey guys I was hoping to get some advice. So I use to be a dealer in PA for a number of years. Started at 19 years old and up to about 2 years ago when I decided to leave the industry. I have about 6 years of experience 5 of those years dealing craps. I have applied to a new casino opening up in my city (as my other job shut down due to Covid) and now I have an audition on Thursday.
Now that you’re caught up with my life...
I feel like after a week of vacation jumping back onto dice was a bit rough, I am totally freaked out after not dealing the game for 2+ years. I have been studying and playing with cheques for a bit and am still not too confident in my skill (or lack thereof)
So the questions
A: is there a good site to help you sharpen some skill sets and help you get reintroduced to the game as a dealer?
&
B: are casinos understanding with having an employee with a bit of rust in a game? Or will I lose brownie points for not being a fresh dealer?
Thanks guys.

So, I love Bob's Burgers. It's always on my tv in the background and its wholesomeness really helped me get through the pandemic isolation. And I always can't stand those kinds of people that obsessively post about how xyz "just isn't the same anymore!" But, it's felt like Season 11 has really been the start of a pretty noticeable decline in a show that's just always been so sharp. It just feels like they've done nearly everything they can with the characters and they're starting to become predictable and less likable. This isn't me berating the show, I more or less needed an outlet to journal my thoughts.
Like...there's no character I hate in this show. I find them all very charming and the family dynamic is very wholesome. But, let's take Tina for example. Her stories have become "Tina gets overly excited about something menial and the power goes to her head." I mean, off the top, the time capsule episode and the big fish/little fish (I know that was S10, but that episode wasn't great either) comes to mind. I really enjoy how they developed Tina in early seasons from someone who wasn't confident and was often a doormat to someone who was fully confident in their incredibly weird self....but now they seem not to know where to go from there?
Same with Louise to an extent. I enjoy her growth from fringe lunatic in early seasons to someone who's clearly become much more considerate of others as the show has gone on. But now, her stories are a lot more sterile? In early seasons, the ambergris episode, the underground casino, and the Louise/Rudy Valentine's episode (S7) were all major standouts. But now, her episodes are a bit more formulaic? I remember the aquarium overnight episode was a really fun highlight, but that was mostly a Louise/Bob episode than just a Louise one. Now her episodes (like the Wharfy one, for example) feel kind of flat? They've milked the "haha she says she hates the boyband, but she's actually obsessed with it" trope a lot more than I thought they would have. It's almost become kind of a major character trait in recent seasons. The first episode when she goes to the concert was really cute, but now it's just overdone. And they feel like poorer rehashes in comparison.
Without going on too much longer, the other characters feel less defined. I think Bob and Linda are similar enough. Bob is a bit less unhinged, as is Linda. They feel more like a team these days than in early seasons where I often asked what Bob sees in this psycho (the cruise ship hostage episode). But Gene freaks me out. The Gene-Linda dynamic specifically. I get that Gene is the momma's boy and even in one of the earlier episodes he notes how he's still 11 and still loves his mom. But now, man it's weird. And he hasn't really grown - he's really become more petulant. That recent episode where Linda goes to the business meetings was just really weird. And the other episode where he's sick and they all tell him stories, and he wants to be married to Linda in the story...again, it was more weird than funny.
Even Teddy is a bit weirder. They really play the "he secretly/not so secretly" pines after Linda thing a bit too hard to the point it's creepy. He's made small remarks throughout the history of the show, but in 10-11 it feels more like a prevalent character trait. The things he says while Bob is there just make me think, "Why does Bob sit here and listen to this guy fantasize about his wife?" The Teddy meltdowns are a bit more outrageous too (ie when he's working for Pesto). And the new recurring characters (Douglas, Nat, etc) don't seem as on par with ones introduced earlier (Mickey, Bosco, etc). They aren't bad, but they aren't as memorable.
I'll stop there. Again, just needed to express my thoughts a bit. Something feels off now. I never get sick of the older episodes, it's just been a recurring thought, where I think the newer seasons aren't awful, but just...off?

It’s taken me quite some time to decide whether to tell anyone about this. With Mardi Gras coming up again soon, I wanted to make sure people were warned, and know what happened.
Something happened at Mardi Gras last year. And it’s being covered up. Every word of what follows is true.
My friends and I decided to go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. I’ve always heard that the city was a non-stop, twenty-four hour, year round party. I’ve also heard that the days leading up to Mardi Gras take this to the extreme.
There were three of us altogether. Myself, Chris, and Sam. We decided to arrive three days early and build up to the actual day of Mardi Gras. We drove down, taking turns at the wheel so we wouldn’t have to stop at any hotels along the way.
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The First Night
Saturday was our first night there. We’re from New Jersey, where it was about 30 degrees (Fahrenheit) when we left. But when we arrived in New Orleans, it was in the 80s, and very humid.
Our hotel was right on the Mississippi River, and our room had a waterfront view. We settled in, cleaned up, and went out to walk around and check things out. We slowly aimed ourselves toward the French Quarter, checking out as much as we could along the way.
I was a bit shocked that we could just buy beer from vendors right on the street and walk around, unbothered by police. We can’t do that in Jersey.
All in all, we had a great time, great food and drink, and retired to the hotel around 4 am, while the city was still buzzing. As tired as I was, it took a while to fall asleep, due to the loud people partying in the hallway and surrounding rooms.
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The Second Night
Sunday, we went to check out Harrah’s (the casino), and then we made it back out to the streets for the atmosphere and alcohol once again.
While walking around, we met a girl named Antoinette (Toni for short), who told us that she was a local, and that she was going to college there.
Toni suggested we all go to a little restaurant just slightly out of the area, called Le Bon Temps (pronounced: Lay Baw Taw). That translates to “the good times” in English. We all headed down together, and it was a pretty cool little place.
While we were there, I witnessed something that I had previously thought was only done in sitcoms. In the middle of our dinner, the door to the kitchen flew open, slamming against the wall. Out from the kitchen walked a large man, using one hand to carry a smaller employee by the back of his shirt collar. The guy being carried looked like there was something wrong with him. His eyes were half closed and bloodshot, while his face was almost pure white, completely void of expression.
The larger man carried him by the back of his shirt all the way across the restaurant to the front door, where he pushed him outside and shut the door behind him.
On his way back to the kitchen, the large man said “Sorry, folks, but you just can’t show up to work stoned out of your gourd like that.”
There were some giggles from the patrons in reply.
We all drank quite a bit that night and I ended up staying at Antoinette’s place, about a mile away. Chris and Sam said they were going to stay out for a while longer and then go back to the hotel.
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The Third Night
The next day, Monday, I texted my friends that I’d meet up with them later that evening.
I spent the day with Antoinette, and we had a great time. I started wondering if this was too much for me to be getting into, allowing myself to get involved with a girl like this when I live so far away. She was definitely someone who I would want to pursue a relationship with, but I knew I’d be leaving town without her in just a few days. I decided to push these thoughts away, and let the proverbial chips fall where they may. We had two more days. Anything could happen.
While Toni and I were walking back downtown later, I noticed there was a girl walking about a block behind us who seemed to be pretty out of it. I couldn’t tell if she was drunk, high, or what. Toni told me to just ignore her, as she hurried me along.
Once we got to the corner where we were meeting up with Chris and Sam, things began to get strange. As we were crossing the street, I felt a hand on my back, almost like someone was pushing me, although rather weakly. I turned around, and realized that it was the girl who was walking a block behind us earlier. She wasn’t actually pushing me, though. It appeared that she needed to hold onto something to avoid falling over.
We stopped and asked her if she was ok, and she just sort of grunted. At this point, I think we all became concerned. She started mumbling a bit, saying things like “My name is Emily,” “I was with friends, but now I’m here,” and “I live here, that way,” pointing in a direction that was blocked by a parade route.
I asked her, “What happened? Did you lose your friends?,” to which she did not reply.
We were standing right in front of a Burger King. I asked the crowd if someone could get a cup of water for her. Everyone who heard me just looked the other way and kept walking, some giving me the evil eye, as if I had done something wrong. A BK employee near the door said “You get her out of here, now!,” slamming the door shut.
I noticed that Toni was staring at Emily with a very serious look on her face. Toni whispered into my ear, “She isn’t drunk. We should get out of here.”
I replied, “But, shouldn’t we help her? She’s really messed up. We can’t leave her here to die.”
Toni begrudgingly said “Alright, but let’s make this quick.”
We each got on one side and carried Emily along with us down the block, where we came across a security guard standing in front of a parking structure. I stopped and asked the guard if they could help. I explained that we didn’t know what was wrong with her, but that she needed attention, and possibly a ride to the hospital. The guard looked at me like I was stupid. Toni gave her a shrug. The guard then re-focused on Emily. She reached into Emily’s backpack, rifled around a bit, and pulled out an ID card. The guard then said “I’ll take care of this and get her an ambulance. You can go on your way.”
Toni started pulling me along, as I said “thank you” to the guard.
As we were all walking, I asked Antoinette, “What did you mean when you said she wasn’t drunk? Is there something going on that we don’t know about?”
Toni just said, “There’s a lot of strange things going on around here that you don’t want to know about. And neither do I.”
My friends kind of laughed, and we moved along. We had some drinks and got back into the celebratory mood.
Chris mentioned that he had been wanting to check out one of the New Orleans cemeteries that he had read about. Toni did not look enthused.
But, Chris was already in motion. He walked over to one of the police officers who were standing guard, and asked “Hey, do you know where the closest cemetery is?”
The officer looked him dead in the eye and stared for a few seconds. Then… And no, this is not a joke, even though it sounds like a bad slasher movie line… He said, “There’s one just a few blocks over that way, but you don’t want to be going down there.”
Chris smirked. “Why not?”
The officer replied, (And again, he really said this. It’s not just a cheesy line from a horror movie.) “They don’t really like your kind over there.”
I have to be honest. I was kind of freaked out by this interaction. And Toni wasn’t looking happy.
Chris said, “Come on, nothing’s going to happen. This isn’t a horror movie.”
After a long sigh, I replied, “I guess it can’t hurt. I’ve heard that the cemeteries are a sight to see around here.”
We embarked on Chris’ quest, much to the chagrin of the rest of the group.
There was quite a change in the look of the city as we got closer to the cemetery. It went from historic New Orleans chic to… something much less visually appealing. As we drew closer, I started to see and feel eyes on all of us.
As we walked the final stretch to the cemetery entrance, there were at least a dozen people standing on their front porches and in their front yards, looking at us like we were about to do something really stupid.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Toni said quietly.
“Well, we are here, so let’s just be quick about it.” I said.
When we got to the front gate, it was locked. Apparently, visiting hours were over.
“Oh no, I guess we have to leave! Too bad,” said Toni.
Despite our misfortune, we could still see all of the large, creepy and wonderful burial structures through the wrought iron fencing. Because New Orleans is below sea level, bodies are buried above ground. The arrangement of the structures in the cemetery actually looked like a small city. A city of the dead.
The eyes were now piercing the backs of our heads, and we knew something was going to happen if we didn’t get out soon. But, Chris started walking the perimeter of the fencing until he happened upon a crevice big enough for him to try and squeeze through. He told us to follow him. I was hesitant, and Toni was telling me that we need to leave, but I figured a quick adventure inside couldn’t hurt. We’d be gone in a few minutes, not even enough time for police to arrive and catch us. So, we all squeezed through, one by one.
It was getting pretty dark now, and this was really starting to feel wrong. I was just waiting for the doors to start opening and the dead to come out and greet us.
I decided I was done with this place, and said to Chris, “Alright, we’re going back. This is just disrespectful, and the locals obviously don’t want us here.”
He shot back, “Scared, huh?”
I ignored him.
We all squeezed back out, one at a time. Toni went just before me, and I was the last one out. I had a feeling like someone else was behind me, even though I was the last one. Before going through, I looked behind me… And I could swear that in the darkness, the door on one of the structures looked like it was sliding open. I could even hear the faint sound of a cement block scraping across the ground. I’m sure it was just my imagination, but this made me decide to get the heck out of there with the quickness.
We walked silently at a much quicker pace back to the more populated downtown area. The noise and lights in the French Quarter seemed to welcome us home.
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Tuesday. Mardi Gras. Carne Vale. A Farewell… To The Flesh.
Today, the streets were twice as crowded as they had been the night before. This was the big day. Tons of new tourists filled the streets, to the point that we literally couldn’t even walk on Bourbon Street. We attempted to, but got stuck in the crowd like someone had tried to fit 100 crayons into a box that was only meant for 50. If anything happened here, we simply wouldn’t be able to move or get out of the way. For the rest of the day, we stuck to the side streets.
As the parades carried on, it became more and more difficult to even go anywhere else, as they were blocking the streets, and thus blocking any way for us to go in the direction that we wanted.
At this point, we kind of gave up and decided “If we can’t beat ‘em, we join ‘em.”
“Let’s just go watch one of the parades,” I said.
The others were indifferent. We all grabbed drinks and walked toward one of the main streets of the city as nightfall was beginning to close in on us.
On our walk, we came upon some sort of dance troupe in the street. There were probably a dozen people in the troupe, all dressed in dark red, tribal looking outfits. Along with their dance, a few played hand drums, and they were all singing in what may have been French. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, though. At some point, the woman in front who appeared to be the leader of the troupe caught my eye and stared with a look as if she was not happy to see me. I saw her look over at Antoinette, then avert her gaze as if she had been caught.
“Let’s go,” said Toni.
As we walked away, I looked back and saw that the woman was staring again, with the same unhappy look on her face.
A few minutes later into our walk, we started to see ahead down the street where it was looking more and more congested with people, to the point of it looking like the main floor of a sold-out rock show. I wondered how these people could deal with being so compressed together.
Toni spoke up.
“We want to stay away from anything that crowded,” she said.
The rest of us agreed.
I said, “Well, let’s just get a little closer. We don’t have to get right in the pit, but I do want to see what’s so exciting over there.”
We kept walking.
As we got closer, something started to seem a bit more clear. Not all of the people were making noise because they were having fun. Some of the merry-making noises turned out to be screams.
As we moved closer, despite Antoinette’s objections, I noticed a small huddle of people in the center. Someone was on the ground. I hurried up to the circle and pushed my way to the inside. What I saw there left me frozen in my tracks. There were two people. One was laying on their back, motionless. The other… was on their knees, hovering over the one on the ground, and it looked… like they were eating their face. Blood was spewing everywhere while gawkers screamed in terror.
Toni grabbed my arm from behind and said “I told you, we have to go!” She pulled at my arm, but I couldn’t avert my gaze from what was happening. Eventually, she pulled hard enough that I lost balance, sort of fell over, then got back up and started retreating with her.
When we got back outside of the circle, we saw that there was another of the exact same scene happening maybe 20 feet away from us in another direction.
“What is happening?!” I screamed.
Then, the first circle we saw was dispersing rapidly as the flesh eater abandoned their meal and started seeking dessert in the crowd. Just like that, another was incapacitated on the ground, becoming seconds.
But there was something else that I noticed while the thing was rising to look for its next victim… It was Emily, the girl who followed us the previous night.
Toni told us that we were going to need to get to her place. As we began running, there were more and more of these things attacking and eating others. Where were they all coming from?
If this wasn’t horrifying enough, I then received the answer to my question. Some of the flesh eaters were missing faces themselves. Just bone, blood and remnants of skin where their faces used to be. And they were using these skeletal faces to eat those of others.
They weren’t ‘coming from’ anywhere. They were being created by the other flesh eaters. As one walked away from their meal, I saw the body of their victim rise and begin chasing their own mark.
I was transfixed on this horrific, spontaneous public meltdown of society happening right before our eyes, when I was suddenly thrust to the ground with great force. I never saw it coming.
I had no idea what was happening. I eventually focused, and realized that I had one of these faceless flesh eaters hovering over me. Blood was dripping from their jowls onto my face. I knew it was all over for me.
Before I could even scream, Antoinette suddenly appeared face to face with the creature hovering over me. Except, she looked different. Her eyes were blood red, and she appeared to have a large set of fang-like teeth protruding from her open mouth.
She used one hand to pick up the creature, bringing it face to face with her. She stared directly into its eyes and let out a guttural, terrifying sound like I’ve ever heard. Whatever this was… The creature was afraid of Toni. She dropped it, and it scrambled off immediately.
She looked at me with her new face and shouted, “Get up and follow me. They won’t touch you now.”
We ran behind her the rest of the way, tears in my eyes as I tried to figure out what was happening.
When we got to her place, Toni locked the doors, and then shook some sort of liquid out of a bottle onto the floor in front of each of the doorways and windows.
“This won’t be over until morning,” she said. Her face was back to normal now.
We all stayed together in the living room that night. I knew that Toni would keep us safe.
When daylight broke, she alerted us that it should be safe now, but that we needed to leave the city and go home immediately. We piled into her car so that she could drive us back to ours at the hotel.
As we drove, I noticed that the streets were now empty, save for what appeared to be clean-up crews picking up the aftermath. Some were power washing the ground where there appeared to be dark stains. There were no bodies, and no flesh eaters out seeking breakfast, from what I could see. We were all dead silent for the entire drive, focused on what was happening outside our windows.
Toni turned on the radio to a news station, and they were reporting that several people had died in what they called “parade float accidents” the prior day.
As Toni said goodbye to us, she hugged me and put a note in my pocket.
I haven’t had the courage to read it yet.
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CHX