Skip Navigation
I learned how to speak to shadows.
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/thayeryan on 2024-05-19 20:43:39+00:00. *** I was brought up in a church. It was always boring and strange and I never really felt welcome, despite everyone's persistent attempts to tell me how happy they were to see me every week. Nevertheless, the stories I was taught there were all I had. And even if I didn’t fully understand them, to me, there was a god and good and evil, and I was just a mortal caught in the middle of it all.

I was around 12 or 13 years old at the time. I remember it being spring time outside, beautiful but tainted by a plague of allergies that had come over me. I was stuck in a habit back then of reading books late into the night. My mom was mostly supportive of it though and bought me a book light to use in the dark, with the caveat that I put the book down by 10PM at the latest.

On the first night that it happened, I remember being very sucked into the story I was reading. I had started a new book and I distinctly remember thinking that the story wasn’t for someone my age, and if my mother found out what I was reading, she might not let me keep it. The feeling that I was doing something wrong had me on edge in a sort of fun and exciting way, and my heart was beginning to beat somewhat quickly as I continued.

And then I heard it. A rustling sound like something had slid off of a hanger in my closet. I jumped in place, dropping my book down on the blanket, the clip-on book light casting a long and imposing shadow across the room. What I saw next was difficult to make out and is even harder to picture in my mind all these years later. I remember my clothes hung up in the closet, swaying in place, almost shivering or jittering from the movement coming from behind them. The book light was cut off along one edge of the closet opening, only showing the bottom of my hanging clothes and part way down onto the floor where some old shoeboxes and retired sports equipment was stored. But there was something odd and quite noticeable partially in view within the small glow of light that existed there. At the time it was puzzling to interpret as I had been expecting my angry mother to have somehow divined that I was reading something she didn’t approve of. But with time and reflection it became clear that the dark shape I saw amongst my belongings was an abnormally long and trembling leg.

“P-please!! P-put that down!”

It spoke with a frantic whisper, as if I was inadvertently pointing a loaded gun at it. I froze for a moment, staring at the indiscernible shape, watching my jacket and button down shirts shivering on their hangers when it suddenly occurred to me. I frantically grabbed the book light and pulled it to my chest. I could have quickly turned and shown it directly into the closet, but for some reason, I didn’t.

The nights that followed were difficult. I kept looking over my shoulder, staring in the direction of my closet, wondering if something would happen instead of falling asleep or reading. My mother even took notice of the sudden change, asking me, “Is something wrong, sweetie?” before tucking me in one night. 

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I’m just bored with my book,” I lied.

“You can’t give up on it now, dear! Even if it’s not for you, at least try and finish it so you know for sure.”

That night I pulled the book out again and continued from where I left off. I felt bad, as if I was taking advantage of my mom’s ignorance as she advocated for me to read a book that she must not have known the full story behind. But still, I wasn’t really bored of it. In fact, once I had the book out and in my hands again, I felt that same itch I had before. An excitement to see what came next. To know what else lies between the pages of the coming chapters. And as I read further, my heart began to race again. I felt a tingle going up my spine now, and for some reason, I began to sweat.

“Can you hear us?”

The voice was closer this time, somewhere off to my side now, away from the closet and more toward the center of my room. I remained still, careful not to bounce the book light around in fear that I would drive the being away.

“Yes.” I told it. The moment after I spoke back to it for the first time, the strangeness of the situation became somewhat mildly apparent to me, although it still did not deter me or drive me toward fear.

“Good.”

I had church that next morning. What I didn’t realize that day, as we piled into the car at the crack of dawn, was that it would be the last time I would ever go to church for the rest of my life. I remember this day very well, as you’ll soon be able to tell.

“Did you sleep okay?” Mother asked me, peering into the backseat through the rear view mirror.

“Okay, yea.”

“How about your book? Did you read any?”

“Yeah.”

“Good! I’m glad.” She said, smiling with her eyes as they returned to the road ahead.

We pulled up to the church and parked in the small parking lot out front. It was altogether a poorly cared for area with faded yellow lines on the ground separating the parking spaces, and chunks of concrete broken apart as if the urban environment had somehow fallen victim to a recent bombing. Our church service was held in an office park of all places, down a flight of stairs and through a long hallway that always smelt like damp carpet. The church pastor had acquired the space for a good deal, and always talked about the location as if it were merely the humble beginning compared to where they would someday be.

We took our seats in the cramped room as usual and an eerie silence was broken by the sound of an old, muffled electronic organ that tried and failed to lift the energy of the room before our pastor walked out center stage.

“Welcome and good morning to everyone on this fine, somewhat humid day. I hope you all are doing well and the drive in wasn’t too problematic, what with all the traffic cones blooming for the summer.” He gave a sort of wincing smile as a few members of the crowd let out a light chuckle. “I’m sure we’re all eager to get on with service today as this is the day we’ve all been waiting for for almost 18 years now - wow! But I just wanted to take a brief moment before we begin to acknowledge the significant achievement of everyone here, and the endless effort you all have gone through in order to make sure that today happened at all.” The room filled with gentle clapping, everyone turning toward one another as they nodded in approval.

“Very good. Now, without any further delay. Let us begin.”

Several quick yet world changing events occurred in the minutes after his speech. Minutes that have dominated my life and memory ever since they happened. My mother stood up and took me by the hand, looking down at me with a large smile across her face.

“Come on! It’s time!”

“What for?” I hesitated, only slowly scooching off of my seat.

“It’s ok, you’re just going to read something out loud for everyone. Think of it like a speech in class, except everyone here is excited just to hear you speak. You won’t do anything wrong, I promise.” I nodded nervously and followed her up to the front of the congregation where she positioned me in front of a mic stand, adjusted down to my height, before leaving to stand next to the pastor. And then I saw her do something quite strange. She took the pastor's hand in her own and kissed him on the lips. The room was deadly silent as the lights overhead were shut off, suddenly leaving us all in a thick darkness. I squinted my eyes as I tried to look back towards my mother, hoping to god I could catch even the slightest hint of her familiar face.

The shadows were pierced by something on the far side of the room. A glow of red light parting the darkness like a curtain, illuminating the pages of an old looking but familiar book that was slowly making its way down the aisle and toward me. Somebody placed the book in my hands and opened it to the first page.

And then a familiar voice spoke.

“Read.”

“But… I’ve already read the beginning before.” I replied quietly.

“But they haven’t.” The voice explained with a seductive hiss. I held the book closer and looked it over. It was my book. It was my light.

As I began reading the words from the pages, I could hear people in the crowd whispering. Some of them were praying, some were crying, one woman in particular I could hear whispering excitedly to her partner: “He can read it! Can you believe that?”

And there were other noises as well. Chanting. Whaling. A sound that I can only explain as a guttural choking noise. I tried to stay focused. To read loudly and not stutter. But as I read further, another noise began to distract me. A drumming or clanging of metal, followed by a rhythmic grinding, over and over and over. Eventually the noise was so loud it was hard to hear my own voice, but I could tell that the audience was loving it. In fact, they were beginning to yell out their approval: “Amazing,” “We’ve finally found him,” “Praise be!”

The tingling had returned up my spine again and my skin felt electric, like I was being filled with some sort of strange energy. It was as if I was moving with momentum as the words of the book were flowing from my mouth like I had somehow memorized every page - even the parts I hadn’t read before. It was so easy I didn’t even need to look at the pages at a certain point, but by that time, something had started to come over me. A hesitance or doubt. I felt wrong and I desperately wanted to leave.

I looked at my book light, examining the streaks of red ma... *** Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1cvxvpl/i_learned_how_to_speak_to_shadows/

0
Antiwork: Unemployment for all, not just the rich! @lemmit.online Lemmit.Online bot @lemmit.online
BOT
Anyone know downsides of expatting to Singapore?
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/antiwork by /u/vtfb79 on 2024-05-20 17:24:00+00:00.

0
StableDiffusion @lemmit.online Lemmit.Online bot @lemmit.online
BOT
Abraham Lincoln meets Hello Kitty in the White House to discuss national security issues (1864)
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/stablediffusion by /u/UnlimitedDuck on 2024-05-20 17:05:23+00:00.

0
Antiwork: Unemployment for all, not just the rich! @lemmit.online Lemmit.Online bot @lemmit.online
BOT
Ready to leave my minimum wage job.
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/antiwork by /u/skreeemaster on 2024-05-20 15:43:38+00:00.

0
r/GoodAnimemes @lemmit.online Lemmit.Online bot @lemmit.online
BOT
He's finally relevant again in his actual franchise...
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/goodanimemes by /u/Adamskispoor on 2024-05-20 15:21:07+00:00.

0
ITAP of My Chihuahua
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/itookapicture by /u/D-rek6298 on 2024-05-20 16:07:06+00:00.

0
20th june
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Ashkar_red on 2024-05-20 08:52:00+00:00. *** I am Percival, a retired officer of the law, and the tale I’m about to unfold took place a decade ago. Why break my silence now? The date looms near, and I can no longer bear the weight of these memories. Sleep has eluded me for a week, so forgive any inconsistencies or errors in my account.

The year was 2013 when I found myself reassigned to a quaint little town known as Holly Forest. Nestled against a forest to the north, it was home to a mere three hundred households. Having left the chaos of city policing in my late thirties, this sleepy town was the sanctuary I sought. Crime was virtually non-existent, save for the occasional drunken brawl or petty theft. But on June 5th, 2013, that tranquility was shattered.

I reported for duty at half-past six that morning, greeted by the warm smile of our ginger-haired receptionist. I must confess, I harbored a bit of a crush on her. As I made my way to my office, I found my superior waiting for me, accompanied by a stranger. A woman in her thirties, her dirty blonde hair and crisp suit screamed ‘FBI’.

Chief Davidson introduced me to the FBI agent, Claire Schmitz, who greeted me with an air of cordiality. After exchanging pleasantries, Davidson revealed the reason for their visit - a mysterious package that had arrived that morning.

“Why would the FBI send an agent for such a mundane task?” I asked, examining the VHS tape Davidson handed me. “You’ll have to see for yourself,” he replied. Claire handed me a nondescript cardboard box, devoid of any address, in which the tape had arrived. I inserted the tape into our antiquated VHS player, connected to an equally outdated TV set.

The screen flickered to life, revealing a tiled wall, seemingly part of a kitchen. As I fast-forwarded through the footage, my colleagues watched in silence. Ten minutes in, the horrifying reason for the FBI’s involvement became clear.

The camera panned slowly across the kitchen counter, zooming in on the face of a child, a girl of perhaps seven or eight with dirty blonde hair and a small smile. My stomach churned as my mind raced through the worst possible scenarios. The camera continued its slow pan, revealing another girl, and then another. In total, eight girls, all appearing to be between eight to ten years old, all smiling, all with their eyes closed as if asleep.

The footage ended abruptly, returning to the tiled floor. I was left speechless, feeling as though I’d just watched a preview of a murder case, the very kind I’d hoped to leave behind in the city.

I turned to my colleagues, who seemed to be waiting for answers I didn’t have. “What is this?” I asked, trying to maintain my composure. “We don’t know,” Davidson confessed. “The package arrived around four a.m., with no address and only that tape inside.”

“Have you checked for fingerprints?” I asked, my voice shaky. “It was clean,” Claire replied. “We sent a copy to headquarters to try and identify the girls in the video.” “And?” I pressed, my anxiety mounting. “Nothing,” she replied, leaving me stunned. “What do you mean, nothing?”

“We couldn’t identify the girls. With the limited information we have, it would take a significant amount of time to sift through the data.” “Time, we don’t have,” I finished her sentence. “What about the tape? Any significant details? Do we know when it was recorded?” I asked, desperate for answers. “Yes, we do,” she replied. “According to the tech lab, the tape was recorded in April.”

“Okay, when in April?” I interrupted, taking a large gulp of my now cold coffee to quell the nausea building in my stomach. “The tape was recorded in 2024,” she finished, looking as dumbfounded as I felt.

“How is that possible?” I exclaimed, jumping up and spilling coffee all over my desk. “That was my reaction too,” Davidson admitted, handing me a ragged towel. “We suspect the tape may have been tampered with. Our team is working on it as we speak,” Claire added, as I attempted to clean up the mess.

“So, what’s our next move?” I asked, tossing the soaked towel into the trash bin under my desk. Claire retrieved a laptop from a hard case she’d left on the bench under the window. “We found a frame in the tape,” she said, opening the laptop to reveal an image of a white wall with a series of coordinates written in black ink.

“The coordinates led us to a small cabin deep in the forest near the town. As we speak, a team of experts is combing through the place. HQ believes that you, as the sole investigator in this station and with your reputation for hunting serial killers, should be involved.”

“So, we’re heading to the cabin then?” I pushed myself up from my chair, fighting against the weakness in my knees and the turmoil in my stomach. I managed to steady my voice, “Unless there’s any other information, you’re not at liberty to share at the moment?” I studied her closely, gauging her reaction. My past experiences with the FBI had taught me they had a knack for withholding what they deemed ‘unnecessary information’.

She shook her head in response, “No, I’m not withholding any information. We should get going, the forensic team is waiting for us.”

Already feeling the strain, I relinquished the driving duties to Chief Davidson. His Wrangler Jeep tore through the city streets, then into the forest, and finally down a narrow dirt road. The cabin came into view quickly, a hive of activity in the otherwise serene landscape. It was swarming with agents, some clad in biohazard suits, others in yellow vests, meticulously collecting samples from every inch of the cabin and its surroundings.

Stepping out of the jeep, a sense of foreboding washed over me. Despite the tranquil surroundings, I felt as though I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, each step drawing me deeper into trouble, the reason for which eluded me. A yellow-vested agent approached us, answering Claire’s query with a shake of his head. “Nothing. The place is spotless. We checked with the town office; this cabin isn’t recorded anywhere. Forensics estimates it was built about ten years ago, and judging by the overgrowth, it’s been deserted for just as long.”

“So, the cabin was built but never occupied?” I asked. “Yes, sir,” he confirmed, adding, “But the interior tells a different story. The cabin is in pristine condition.” He gestured for us to follow him inside as the agents in biohazard suits cleared out.

The cabin itself was unremarkable, constructed of walnut wood and well-preserved, with no signs of nature’s encroachment. Even the two windows overlooking the area were spotlessly clean. I ascended the three steps to the wide-open door, the interior surprisingly clean and devoid of any furniture. But the kitchen wall… it was the same wall from the opening of that tape.

What I hadn’t noticed before was the peculiar design on the tiles. Each one was painted with an eye in the center, a blue eye, not human, but reminiscent of Saruman’s eye from Lord of The Rings. Each eye was surrounded by a mass of green, bush-like strokes, as if concealing the owner of those eyes. A chill coursed down my spine, amplifying the unease that had taken root within me. The counter was unmistakable - it was the same one from the tape. This was indeed the place.

The floor was constructed of the same hardwood as the rest of the cabin. There was only one other window, offering a view of the area behind the cabin. I moved around the kitchen counter, positioning myself where the camera had been placed in the footage. But there were no white walls to be seen, no signs that anyone had ever inhabited this place. It was as if the cabin existed solely for the purpose of that chilling tape. The mystery deepened, the silence of the cabin echoing the questions swirling in my mind.

I left the cabin in disarray, taking a walk around to where the third window overlooked. There was nothing, but the sense of dread kept intensifying. Despite the chirping of the birds and the sound of a nearby river, I felt increasingly nervous with each passing moment. A fever seemed to be building within me. I tried to inspect the surrounding area, but my strength gave out.

I awoke, soaked in cold sweat, back in my office, sprawled on the bench under my office window. Davidson had driven me back when I collapsed. A doctor was called, who attributed my fainting spell to overwork and exhaustion. But that couldn’t be the case. I hadn’t had a single case for the last six months that would warrant such stress, and I had been sleeping well every night.

He prescribed some medication to “regain my health back,” but regain from what?

I asked Davidson about the case at hand. Nothing. Forensics had no new information beyond what we were briefed earlier. Claire had left moments before to check into a small motel down the main road. It seemed like the case was a dead end, or so I thought.

I think that’s enough for now. I can hear them calling. I’ll continue writing when the calls stop, hopefully by morning.

0
High Beams
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/fearsomefrights on 2024-05-19 15:05:50+00:00. *** It was half past nine when my shift at the diner ended. It’s not any place specifically you’d know, though you’d be forgiven for confusing it for a Waffle House given the abundance of cheap, greasy food and drunk clientele. The only thing distinguishing our location was that our doors closed at ten.

It was a cold night in October. The winds felt out of place for the fall season with the sharp way they bit into my skin. Usually, the low temperatures in Grant tended to hover around the mid-fifties. Tonight felt particularly frigid even bundled up in the warm confines of my jacket.

I hurried through the lot outside the diner, passing by several vehicles. When I made it to my car at the far end, I was quick to put the key in the ignition.

My car was a special edition Subaru Legacy. The only thing special about it was that it was only by the grace of God that my radiator and engine were still operational given the car was a little over two decades old.

When you turn the key, the engine would knock. My father said it was indicative of worn-out bearings. Could be an engine getting ready to declare sayonara before it crapped out one final time and departed for car heaven or perhaps car hell given its rough condition.

I knew little about that though; all I knew was that as a poor college student I was having a difficult enough time as is scrambling to make ends meet with a part time job at a diner. Regardless, whatever the solution, the answer involved money. Money I, notably, didn’t have.

The smart thing to do would be to purchase another used car; though in this economy that sort of thing is far easier said than done.

An even harder task than figuring out the financing for a replacement vehicle was getting this stubborn thing to turn. The engine threatened to exhibit life but would stop short of properly starting.

It was about the fifth round when my engine found the energy to fight the good fight on this frigid night. The engine knocked fiercely, reverberating inside the hood for a few seconds before the noise steadied itself.

I sighed in relief and backed out of my parking spot in the back of the lot.

As I left, I couldn’t help but notice something out of the corner of my eye. A man, a very rugged specimen of the male sex adorning a blue baseball cap and a grizzly beard, was approaching my vehicle at a brisk pace. Where I was the only one stationed at the back of the lot, it seemed odd he was coming my way.

I turned my head to acknowledge him. That’s when he began to break out into a full-on run.

My heart raced almost as fast as my car. I slammed the pedal down and sped out of the lot, the tires screeched loudly along the pavement as I veered to a sharp right.

I was lucky the road didn’t carry heavy traffic around this time of night. Where my eyes were focused on him, I was damn near lucky I hadn’t plowed directly into someone.

I sped along the highway and tried to rationalize why this lumberjack looking fellow had charged me. News reports of human trafficking came to mind, but it wasn’t really anything you heard much about in a place as remote as Grant Alabama.

For crying out loud, we physically were so remote one of the miniature cities within Grant was called Bucksnort. We were about as far from the Big Apple, or any real semblance of civilization, one could get.

After a minute of driving, I slowed down, especially when I heard something in the engine rattle. This car wasn’t designed for no races or wild chases. Not with the amount of age it carried.

Besides, I was alone. Safe.

At least that’s what I thought before I heard the blaring of a truck horn. An eighteen-wheeler was coming up behind me. Given I was the only other soul visible on this lonely two lane stretch of highway, it was clear they were honking at me.

I prayed to God and kept moving.

The big rig followed closely. We went down the road for two miles when suddenly my vision was obscured in a bright light.

The trucker was flashing his high beams. I could barely see when he hit me with them. I nearly swerved off the road when he did it.

After a few seconds the mounted flood lights on his vehicle relented and the blinding rays ceased their assault on my eyes.

I moved my car to the right lane to let him pass. He had no intention of doing so. His signal made that clear when he merged behind me.

Drops of rain began to pour from the sky lightly tapping my windshield.

Plop…plop, plop…plop.

My car didn’t handle well with slick roads. Fortunately, I wasn’t too far from home. Maybe another seven miles.

The fiery orange glow flooded the cabin of my car and I yelped.

I fumbled in my purse. One hand on the wheel, one digging desperately for my phone. With my visibility being periodically robbed, I was already a hazard on the road. Might as well risk compounding the issue if it meant I could get in contact with the police.

When the high beams vanished, I managed to pull out my phone and dial 911.

The operator answered after two rings. “911, what’s your emergency?” The man that answered the call sounded bored out of his mind, like he’d rather be anywhere else on a Saturday night.

I didn’t care if he was bored, entertained, playing with himself. As long as he could send someone out that’s all I cared about in the end.

“There’s a maniac tailgating me,” I said.

The operator’s voice clipped. Though from what I could understand of the roboticized sound coming out from his end of the line, I could tell from his tone he remained unenthused. “Ma’am, you’ve called an emergency line.”

“Y-you don’t understand! I was leaving work and this man started chasing me. I-I think he’s trying to hurt me.”

The operator fell silent for a few seconds. For a moment, between the rainy weather and the flaky signal, I thought I’d lost him. His voice reemerged seconds later. “Where are you?”

I rattled off the highway number I was driving on and told him my home address.

“I’ll get an officer dispatched in the area. ETA should be around ten minutes.”

Ten minutes. Six hundred seconds. Toss whatever metric you wanted to use to measure it out, with that big rig riding close behind me and the driver intermittently blinding me when they felt like getting their rocks off, it might as well have spanned an eternity. I was going to be lucky I didn’t crash into a guardrail or land myself in a ditch.

“Make that around fifteen minutes,” the operator clarified, his crackled voice twisting the knife deeper into me with his update.

I made the turn off the two-lane highway. I didn’t signal when I did it. I was hoping the sudden movement would have had my unwanted friend in the big rig blow past me.

“Ma’am?”

For a moment, I believed it worked. No more blinding lights. The only sound was the operator fishing for a response and the pitter patter of rain on my windshield.

My sigh of relief became a choking noise lodged inside my throat as I saw the eighteen-wheeler backing up. It didn’t turn on a dime, but he was moving fast enough.

The road up ahead winded with hairpin curves. I didn’t know how long I’d have until those lights were upon me. Till he was upon me.

The phone clicked and the call abruptly ended.

I cursed under my breath while my engine knocked like an irate person trying to beat down a door. My Subaru was rapidly approaching its limit. I had to think fast.

These were my options: I could risk speeding and hoped the engine would hold out till I made it to the house, or I could continue driving at a steady pace. If the first option proved successful, he might not see where my vehicle would vanish. If it didn’t, my car might leave me stranded. That’s assuming I didn’t wreck myself taking a turn too fast.

The other option would be safer, but I’d be visible to him. Though with some of these curves I feared if he hit me with the high beams again, I’d be at risk of crashing. Where the area of road ascended, one wrong turn would mean a long journey down.

It would mean certain death.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, I pulled out my phone and called my husband. The only answer I got was his voicemail urging me to leave a message at the tone.

“Billy, there’s a lunatic after me. I’ve called the cops. Please…please be ready. I’m only two minutes away.”

It wasn’t the most inspiring call to action. My husband wasn’t Billy Badass. He was more like Billy the Stamp Collector. Benign hobbies. Soft spoken. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Still, I was counting on his presence to deter Mr. High Beams behind me. It was a desperate ploy, but it was all I could think of on such short notice.

I made the turn into the dirt trail that led to my driveway. As I was pulling in the porch light flickered to life. Maybe. It might have been those high beams. They illuminated my cab in a flood of light once more obscuring my vision.

The door to the house opened and a figure ran out of the entryway. My husband from what I could discern of the silhouette. Our dog Jasper, a black schnauzer with more bark than bite, darted out the door. I couldn’t see the little guy, but I heard him.

I stopped the car and shoved open the door. I bolted out of the seat, nearly tripping over my own feet with my frantic departure.

Jasper started barking up a storm, even before the big rig came to a standstill.

The door of it opened and the bearded man stepped out of the vehicle.

Strangely, my dog paid the trucker little mind. Jasper’s eyes remained fixated on my Subaru. He began to snarl.

“Get away from the ca... *** Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1cvqbvy/high_beams/

0
Antiwork: Unemployment for all, not just the rich! @lemmit.online Lemmit.Online bot @lemmit.online
BOT
Second week at my new job, 1 minute late to a Teams meeting with a higher up... they emailed my boss about it
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/antiwork by /u/floralpie on 2024-05-20 16:41:10+00:00. *** Just like the title says. This is my 2nd week at a new job. Call was for 8am with a higher up I have to work with weekly. First time meeting them.

I joined the Teams meeting ONE MINUTE LATE.

First thing they say is that I am late and they had called to see where I was and had emailed my boss. Didn't even introduce themselves LOL

I got the email notification a few minutes later so I'm pretty sure he sent it during the call after I showed up...

My boss can see the Teams record showing I joined at 8:01AM. He thought it was funny at least.

Happy Monday to me!

0
Antiwork: Unemployment for all, not just the rich! @lemmit.online Lemmit.Online bot @lemmit.online
BOT
Mondays...
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/antiwork by /u/bornabearsfan on 2024-05-20 15:20:06+00:00.

0
Is using my PC as a heater while training AI a bad idea?
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/pcmasterrace by /u/VansamaUnofficial on 2024-05-20 14:40:09+00:00. *** So I live in a shared house in Sydney, Utility bill is included in my rent but we are not allowed to have heater or aircon. It is very cold at night and I thought: "Wait a minute, I have a rtx4080 GPU. and a ryzen 9 7950x CPU". I have never considered this but if I use my PC to mine crypto or train AI at night. Would it generate enough heat to keep my room warm while being kinda productive? Is it worth trying or I'm just degrading my parts.

0
r/GoodAnimemes @lemmit.online Lemmit.Online bot @lemmit.online
BOT
Hold it properly
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/goodanimemes by /u/Se7en_Sinner on 2024-05-20 15:07:45+00:00.

0
HBO Orders Steve Carell Comedy Series From Bill Lawrence, Matt Tarses & Warner Bros. TV
deadline.com HBO Orders Steve Carell Comedy Series From Bill Lawrence, Matt Tarses & Warner Bros. TV

A college comedy series starring Steve Carell has landed a 10-episode, straight-to-series order from HBO.

HBO Orders Steve Carell Comedy Series From Bill Lawrence, Matt Tarses & Warner Bros. TV
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/television by /u/indig0sixalpha on 2024-05-20 16:00:52+00:00.

0
Dear Streaming Services: Stop Splitting Up Seasons
featurefirst.net Dear Streaming Services: Stop Splitting Up Seasons

Why are the streamers so adamant about trying to divide their seasons into parts? The gaps are becoming too long.

Dear Streaming Services: Stop Splitting Up Seasons
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/television by /u/Vishion-8 on 2024-05-20 14:39:08+00:00.

0
‘The Sandman’ Season 2 Casts Its Delirium, Destiny and [Spoiler]
www.thewrap.com The Sandman Season 2 Casts Delirium, Destiny and The Prodigal Actors

"The Sandman" Season 2 has grown the Endless Family by casting Esmé Creed-Miles, Adrian Lester, and Barry Sloane in key roles.

The Sandman Season 2 Casts Delirium, Destiny and The Prodigal Actors
This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/television by /u/indig0sixalpha on 2024-05-20 14:08:24+00:00.

0
r/EnterTheGungeon
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !enterthegungeon@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • r/wildhearthstone
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !wildhearthstone@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • r/bobstavern
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !bobstavern@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • r/magictcg
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !magictcg@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • r/hearthstone
  • There already is a 'hearthstone' community at !hearthstone@lemmit.online!

  • r/ModernMagic
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !modernmagic@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • Fuck the state!
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !completeanarchy@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • NSFW
    R/Gone wild of colour
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !gonewildcolor@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • NSFW
    R/BigBoobsGonewild
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !bigboobsgonewild@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • testie mctestes
  • There already is a 'ukpersonalfinance' community at !ukpersonalfinance@lemmit.online!

  • r/newpipe
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !newpipe@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • r/dinosaure
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !dinosaure@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • Deleted
    r/gnome
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !gnome@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • r/protonmail
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !protonmail@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • r/AppleTV
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !appletv@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • NSFW
    r/dross
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !dross@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • NSFW
    /r/NataLee
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !natalee@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • /r/Polandball
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !polandball@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • /r/AnimalsBeingDerps
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !animalsbeingderps@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • r/sailing
  • I'll get right on that. Check out !sailing@lemmit.online!

    Click here to fetch this community for your Lemmy instance if you get a 404 error with the link above.

  • bot Lemmit.Online bot @lemmit.online
    BOT

    I fetch Reddit posts, and post them to Lemmy.

    Got questions? They might very well be answered in my FAQ, but feel free to add your own questions to that topic. Otherwise, feel free to contact @admin@lemmit.online.

    Posts 89K
    Comments 81
    Moderates