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Hollywood Olivia Apartment, Los Angeles

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2022.01.21 13:36 Sorkiy8 Hollywood Olivia Apartment, Los Angeles

Hollywood Olivia Apartment, Los Angeles Hollywood Olivia Apartment, Los Angeles https://hollywood-olivia-apartment.usa8.info Located in Los Angeles, 0.8 miles from Capitol Records Building and 1.5 miles from Hollywood Walk of Fame, Hollywood Olivia Apartment provides accommodations with free WiFi. 5825 Sunset Blvd, Hollywood, Los Angeles, CA 90028, United States of America
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2022.01.21 13:36 giner_ca 一场花费4年时间,用模拟城市3000进行的极权社会实验

一场花费4年时间,用模拟城市3000进行的极权社会实验 submitted by giner_ca to China_irl [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 milohren Working on making my Kurapika wig (:

Working on making my Kurapika wig (: submitted by milohren to cosplayprops [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 WowzerforBowzer Does anyone know how to look up how much / what a company imports each year?

Does anyone know how to look up how much / what a company imports each year? For example, we import 7 figures in, and I have salesmen calling me and saying they looked up our imports and Tarif codes and know we Import xyz at this value. Where can I find this information? I am sure it is right in front of me. Are there any links anyone can provide me!
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2022.01.21 13:36 the_average_homeboy Madeleine Stowe. 1987

Madeleine Stowe. 1987 submitted by the_average_homeboy to OldSchoolCool [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 Forsaken-Command8144 When i get super power

When i get super power submitted by Forsaken-Command8144 to memes [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 ob2kaknowbe Can we post and sell guitars here? I would rather sell to a lefty than a company on Reverb who is going to try and make money off one of us.

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2022.01.21 13:36 ProfessionalTry2134 How Lenin was more brutal than Stalin ?

Pls don't take this as a troll question. I read it somewhere (I think it was said by someone who was close to both Lenin and Stalin during and after the civil war but cant remember his name ) that Lenin was far more brutal and harsher than Stalin. If so is their any material how so he was ? I m interested to learn more about it.
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2022.01.21 13:36 tamir19011 I'm tired 😫

I'm tired 😫 submitted by tamir19011 to Xxnxv6 [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 fuckimperialists13 I am really sorry if this is not a good place to post. I'm hurt and confused.

I was told to check out here in another sub and I would really like to know everyone's opinion on this, I don't know if my parents count as nparents
(18F) I'm going to keep this as short as possible, as I just need some quick advice. I would be grateful for anything right now. My parents are desi and have physically abused me in the past. It wasn't like really bad physical abuse but it still happened and scares me I guess. The emotional abuse has been lifelong and it took me forever to acknowledge it as abuse. Constant knocking me down in every way, comments on appearance and weight and everything. The worst bit is guilt tripping - everything from mom threatening to kill herself to simply saying she has depression because of me. Dad also feeds into this but more so says that my mom's depressed and I'm making it worse.
I've started going to my girlfriend's house 2 hours away to stay over (they think it's a friend). They ferociously guilt trip me every. single. time. Asking why I'm leaving my parents, what mistake they made, saying that it's bad (for no other reason than me being a girl basically), so much guilt tripping. Once when I said I was going, my mom laid down and pretended to not be able to breathe properly. She's sent me multiple crying voice notes before while I've been at my girlfriend's house. I try to power through and realise that they try to control my freedom and everything, but it is still so hard. I cry sometimes from guilt but try everything not to give in.
When I get home, they're super nice. I'm not used to it at all, and it makes me feel so happy. My mom always cares for me and makes me food. It makes me feel awful when I'm about to leave again and only can tell them last minute because of how they get when I go.
One time a couple months ago, my sister commented on the fact that I was frying hash browns rather than baking them. This became a weight thing. My sister is always critical about my weight and I think she has emotionally abused me too. My mom was making a rice dish and after commenting on the hash browns also, asked me how much rice I wanted to eat later. I was feeling very insecure, so I said I don't want any rice. She scoffed and said I wouldn't be able to go without it and this caused a massive argument because I absolutely just blew up about it and couldn't stop crying. My mom messaged me saying she's sorry like 5 times and begging me to go back downstairs. I thought I was over this, but it came back today in my head even though I bought only healthy food when I went to the shop with my mom. She was being nice to me and I still wanted to cry because I'm so hurt.
Every time they're nice, I almost forget about everything I went through. But even today, the slightest dig sets me off and reminds me of everything. I feel like I'm abandoning my parents and being a horrible daughter by going off for 1-3 weeks at a time to a completely different city. I feel like something will happen to them and I'll be gone and won't be there for them. I feel absolutely awful and it's ruining me from the inside. I need reassurance. Am I doing a bad thing? I can't tell anymore and it's making me ill. Please can I have any bit of help or advice thank you
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2022.01.21 13:36 CamiloBrunoDolores Subscribe to my yt WillowPlayzRoblox btw

Subscribe to my yt WillowPlayzRoblox btw submitted by CamiloBrunoDolores to Encanto [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 deepdrilling80 Who's going to rub in the SPF?

Who's going to rub in the SPF? submitted by deepdrilling80 to MenTanning [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 CRYPTOsauceNews Altcoins Hit Hard In Recent Crypto Sell-Off As Bitcoin And Ethereum Post Large Losses

Altcoins Hit Hard In Recent Crypto Sell-Off As Bitcoin And Ethereum Post Large Losses submitted by CRYPTOsauceNews to CoinBaseCrypto [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 jookco Tot - Gestorben - Todesursache : US-Sänger #Meat Loaf im Alter von 74 Jahren gestorben (afp) Click link to read full story.

submitted by jookco to DeathObituaries [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 TrifleOctopus I’m not sure who this ‘Choise’ is but apparently they need a constant reminder

I’m not sure who this ‘Choise’ is but apparently they need a constant reminder submitted by TrifleOctopus to CrappyDesign [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 Viralforvideos How to Train Your Dog in Agility Sports ?

How to Train Your Dog in Agility Sports ? submitted by Viralforvideos to ThePetsLife [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 lukreciussz Segítenének Unibet fogadással kapcsolatban?

Sziasztok! Sosem fogadtam még, ez a világ távol állt tőlem. Most viszont szeretnék belevágni. Kezdő tanácsokat kérnék azoktól, akik jártasak a fogadásokban (tehát nem póker). Elsősorban politikai fogadásokat kötnék, ugyanis sportügyben nem vagyok valami tájékozott. Egy kis tanulópénzt szánnék az első alkalomnak, célom viszont a magyar választás megfogadása a későbbiekben. Egyetemista vagyok, nappalis, 25 alatti. Főként az adózás érdekelne, mint-hogy kell, ha kell-e egyáltalán. De összességében szívesen látok minden kommentet, akár ha más oldalt javasoltok ilyesmi fogadásra is. Köszönöm!
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2022.01.21 13:36 bravesfan14 Hanging On The Line

I still got criticized for being not just single but never married. I never had a kid, never raised a family even though I came close once. Such was the life of being a single forty-year-old woman living in the 1940s. And deep down, I only had interest when Frank and I were a couple… specifically back when we were robbing outlaws.
The Great Depression hit everyone hard and I was no exception. Living in Tallahassee, Florida, I didn’t know what to do or, Hell, where to even live. Mom and pop passed away in twenty-eight, and I was on my own, penniless and homeless, at the ripe old age of twenty-one. I had no one to turn to then. There was no living family, no inheritance worth a damn, and above all, no jobs or prospects on the horizon. I was alone.
… Until I met Frank Zito. Frank was ten years older than me, but the gap didn’t matter. Like me, he too was an outcast of Tallahassee. But what Frank had that I didn’t was charisma and lots of it.
When I first saw Frank out at Lake Ella’s gazebo, he was like a matinee idol stepping off the screen. Frank was tall, dark, and handsome even when unemployed, homeless, and broke. The five o’clock shadow didn’t bother me at the time, not when his checkered houndstooth polo shirt and jeans fit so snug on that nice body.
At the gazebo, Frank’s Southern drawl matched mine. His smooth talk swept me away in the way he described how pretty I was, how nice I was dressed, how my green eyes sparkled like emeralds, and how I was too much, way too regal for a town like Tallahassee.
I was immediately smitten. Not that I wasn’t used to compliments. On that day alone, I’d already dealt with two homeless creeps attempting to get handsy before I gave them a hard slap across the kisser to let them know who was boss. But the thing was, until Frank, no one had ever dared call me beautiful. I wasn’t tall, just lanky. I was scrawny then just like I was all the way up to 1947… some would say boyish. That’s what they called me growing up anyway. My slim figure was one of many reasons I figured not a whole lot of boys asked me out on dates, much less boys that were as sexy as Frank.
Yet there we bonded on Lake Ella. Mind you, this wasn’t an affluent side of town, damn sure not during the Depression. There were plenty of other down-and-out people hurt by the Depression surrounding us. Given the abundance of crumbling benches, decrepit phone booths, and the many tall weeds in the grass, Lake Ella could’ve certainly used a renovation… but Frank made it so much prettier.
Walking by the murky water, we passed constant ducks as we got to know one another. My impromptu trip to loiter on the gazebo had become our first date. Before I knew it, we were holding hands and sharing our own hopes and dreams.
By a most glorious lamppost, Frank pulled me in close. The move was smooth and swift.
I let him hold me in his arms. With Frank’s good looks, the summer heat never felt hotter. Both of our gazes devoured the other. The pretty sunset, the sprawling lake, all of it was ignored in this majestic moment. We were starstruck by the sheer sight of one another.
Silence settled in. We were too captivated to muster up small talk. But this tension was a welcome distraction from the Depression and the many horrors it had to offer. When Frank held me, there was no dread or fear in our shared silence: these were the nerves of excitement. The type of fun anxiety brought about by young love.
“Well,” I finally said. Teasing Frank, I ran my hands along his firm arms. “Whatcha got to say now, Frank?”
Frank just smiled.
“I believe it’s your move,” I continued as I felt along his waist and ass. I was sweating, alright, and it wasn’t just due to the July evening…
“Sorry, I just wanted to take my time,” he said, that smile going nowhere. He tilted my chin, pointing my eyes right at him… not that I was complaining. “I was too busy admiring.”
Chuckling, I gave his ass a playful smack. “Well, get on with it then!”
At my command, Frank leaned in and gave me the greatest kiss I’d ever experienced. I felt sparks explode off our embrace. Our combined carnal lust helped make Florida’s heat further sizzle. We ran our hands along one another’s bodies, savoring the touch. Of course, bystanders watched, all of them homeless ramblers like us... But I sure as Hell didn’t care.
Like wild teenagers freed on a Friday night, Frank and I then proceeded to hit the town. Sure, we only had about a dollar in change between us, but we had to commemorate our joy in some way. There was a quick dinner at the hamburger stand and then we got ice cream.
Needless to say, there was a quickie in between the carefree catharsis… The spontaneous kissing got carried away when our hands ran wild along one another’s bodies. I was only let down by our decision to carry on in a public bathroom for privacy. But hey, where else could we go at this time? And on top of that, neither one of us could wait. I hadn’t been with anyone in months so the cramped bathroom stall did little to subdue our passion in the heat of the moment. Frank was incredible and going off his reactions, I liked to think I was too...
Soon after, nightfall was upon us. Frank took me to the Black Dog Café for some gin and beers we’d been craving. This place was the triumphant last stop to our dream date.
I wasn’t surprised we were the only customers inside. Tallahassee was dead during the week, especially when the universities were out… and especially during an economic depression. Not that Black Dog was much to write home about. The nocturnal coffee shop only stayed in business due to its ‘secret’ speakeasy status that the entire town knew about… not that the late shift cops who came in for shots during breaks were looking to ambush Black Dog anytime soon.
The Café had been the same since I’d first started scheming my way in for mixed drinks during high school. Located a few blocks away from Lake Ella, Black Dog was the last of the shops in this district, the last one standing from the Depression’s deadly impact… Like I said, selling booze during the Prohibition helped prolong its painful survival. At least surrounded by abandoned buildings, the café had a monopoly on Lake Ella’s straggler visitors, drunks, and drifters.
The bar’s interior was a total cave, especially stuffy in the summer. A ceiling fan was our only defense against the heat. Photographs of jazz musicians and framed records were the decorative paintings for this joint. The small stage in the corner was empty but on the weekends was usually vibrant with the vibes of many amateur musicians, jazz always Black Dog’s specialty.
At a small table, Frank and I sat across from one another. We were both two drinks in and already getting tipsy.
“You like Tallahassee?” Frank teased.
I shrugged, teasing him right back. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”
“Yeah.” Frank leaned back in his chair, flexing that appealing physique for me. His smug confidence was reminiscent of a college professor… just one clad in tight tantalizing clothing. “I didn’t like it as much till I met you.”
“The same.”
“If only I could take you out somewhere… nice. Real nice.”
Glancing around the café, I saw only one employee behind the bar counter: a bored man in his late twenties. I could tell by his fading muscles and chiseled looks he was greatly missing the college days... but he was still cute. “But this is nice,” I said as I faced Frank’s handsome face. “Especially with you.” Before he could respond, I reached over and clasped his hands in a supportive grip. “It’s just we’re all in a bad spot right now.”
“Tell me about it,” Frank quipped.
Persuasive, I squeezed his hands. “But it’s the whole world, babe. It’s not just us.”
“Yeah…” Frank pulled away from me to lean back. His smile disappeared into contemplation. His personality disappeared into silence.
I didn’t like seeing him somewhat unsettled. Not only was it less attractive but the shit was killing my mood. “Frank, come on.” I grabbed a hold of my glass of gin. “We’ll both move on once all this ends.” I forced a chuckle. “We’ll make money at some point.”
Frank scoffed. “But why not now, Anna.”
Trying to reassure him, I smiled. “Well. I mean… you know how it is.”
“What?” Frank leaned in closer. “All because of this depression.” He snatched his beer. “That means we can’t be happy?”
I threw up my hands, spilling some of my gin but this drunk, I didn’t care enough for it to slow me down. “But we can!” I waved my gin around the bar, my smile getting wider. “Just look at today. Today was the best day I’ve had in a long time.”
A frustrated Frank took a swig of beer. “But we can do more.”
“How?” I teased, prompting Frank’s smile to return. “What can we do in a Depression, Frank.”
Frank hesitated in the heat. An hour away from midnight and we were both still sweating...
I got concerned in the silence. “Babe. I like this.” Leaning over, I grabbed his hand once more, my emotions airing out. “I like you.”
But Frank pulled away from me to readjust his pompadour real quick. Not that it needed any fixing.
Trying to reassure him, I grabbed my glass. “We’ll just keep being poor together.”
“But that’s what I’m afraid of, Anna,” Frank replied.
“You know this is only our first date right,” I joked. Amidst his chuckle, I took another sip. “We don’t have to plan everything.”
“Well…” In a sly swoop, Frank leaned in closer toward me. His grin became more mischievous. “I have an idea.”
I froze in the moment. I wasn’t scared or frightened… just awash with an anxiety, an uncertainty about what this most unpredictable and alluring young man had in store for me.
Before I could respond, Frank turned his attention toward the handsome bartender walking through the kitchen’s swinging traffic doors. He was the only other person in here with us.
“All you gotta do’s just follow my lead, baby,” Frank said as he watched the bartender return to the counter.
Strangely enough, I wasn’t worried… not at all. Rather than fear, an excitement settled in. Whatever Frank had in mind might be crazy, even dangerous… but I knew he was gonna make it fun.
Smirking, I leaned in closer. “I will.”
Frank looked at me.
“Within reason,” I added.
“Good enough for me,” Frank beamed. He then stood up without warning.
At first, I was delighted by his enthusiasm. Frank’s electric charisma was back, so was that smile.
Then I saw why Frank was so confident: he held a pistol. I didn’t know where he got the small revolver, I didn’t know if it was loaded. I figured he must’ve retrieved it while I went to the bathroom. Maybe he’d bought it that day or maybe he’d stored it somewhere downtown. The thing was that I wasn’t scared or alarmed, I was enthralled. Frank had never looked sexier. He was an outlaw… and well, now I guess so was I.
“Babe,” I said, catching myself from completely gushing.
Frank waved me over toward him.
Playing the lookout, I saw where the bartender hadn’t even noticed the weapon as he performed his nightly tasks of cleaning the empty glasses. My smile then gave Frank the okay.
Him and I finished off the booze and slammed our respective drinks down in unison. I trembled from anticipation, sweated from the appeal of the unknown rather than the stifling humidity: what the Hell were we gonna do next?
“You ready?” Frank whispered with a smile.
I nodded fervently. I gave in to my own desperate need for fun… no matter how dangerous. Before Frank even asked, I jumped up beside him. In less than twenty-four hours, we’d gone from strangers to lovers to partners-in-crime.
Staying at Frank’s side, we both confronted the Black Dog bartender. Frank and I’s smiles mirrored one another in madcap merriment. Together, we were unstoppable.
The cashier flinched at the sight. His youth was unable to disguise the obvious fear… not when he was staring down that merciless firearm.
Keeping his cool, Frank waved the gun toward the cash register. “Give us the money.”
I glided toward the register. In one casual motion, I snatched a paper bag off the counter.
“Thanks, babe,” I heard Frank say.
Beating the bartender to the register, I turned toward Frank. “No problem.”
Under gunpoint, the bartender opened the register. I swung open the paper bag and held it toward him. This up close, I really saw the uncomfortable nerves piercing through the guy’s good looks. He was like a frightened child cowering from the thunder and lightning that was Frank and I.
Frank stopped right next to me. I stole a grin at him. Frank’s hold to the pistol was so tight... Our heartbeats now pounded harder than the bartender’s.
The bartender struggled to put the ones and fives in our bag. His trembling alone spilled a few bucks Frank made him pick up. The process was slow, even embarrassing considering our hostage was far from old or feeble.
“Hurry it up!” I barked at him.
The cashier picked up the pace. The bag then got heavier with the coins, but Frank and I’d take whatever we could considering the era... And deep down, I was allured by the power, by how much I’d commanded this good-looking guy to do as I pleased.
Frank grinned at me. “That’s the spirit.”
Unable to help myself, I wrapped an arm around Frank’s waist, ensnaring him in my grip. “I guess we’re naturals.”
“I guess so,” Frank replied.
The swinging doors then burst open, startling everyone! The bartender dropped a dozen quarters. I dropped one side of the bag before recovering quick enough to save the cash and Frank and I’s hopes and dreams. Frank even lowered the gun... briefly.
I looked up in time to see a shotgun pointed right at me. A fat cook was holding it, his face uglier and more unflinching than the shotgun’s barrel.
“You little tramp!” the cook yelled at me, his greasy glower matching the shrill voice.
I didn’t just see my life flash before my eyes, I felt it leave my soul.
Right when the cook got ready to pull the trigger, Frank pushed me to the side. Everything played out in slow motion, but Frank was still quicker than the rest.
He aimed the pistol at the cook and fired away! The loud gunshots didn’t make me jump… Instead, the shots soothed me.
Two slugs burrowed deep inside the cook’s face. Each bullet resembled a leech further digging itself deeper into the man’s juicy flesh as blood streamed out of the wounds, streaming all across his cheeks and down his neck.
I stood there and watched, fascinated. Frank’s other arm stayed in front of my chest, holding me back, but I wasn’t complaining. I was one captive audience.
“Shit!” I heard the bartender cry.
Slowly veering into lifelessness, the cook fell to both knees, the shotgun still in his hands, its butt end heading for the floor…
Upon impact, the shotgun barrel slid upward, right below the man’s chin. His dying finger twitched for a killshot!
The loud gunshot made the bartender scream in horror! I heard the windows rattle. I felt excitement further hold me in its grip.
The fat man’s face exploded right before us! Crimson sprayed out everywhere, re-coating the walls with red. The blast was so powerful it sent blood well over six feet away and all over me, Frank, and the cashier.
Still kneeling, the cook’s face was now a mask of flesh that’d been pulled down, its bits and pieces dangling down and barely hanging on to the rest of his head. Muscles and tendons were seen behind the ‘mask’. Crimson paint hit the floor in a repetitive rhythm...
“No,” the bartender muttered. He looked over at Frank and I as he held his hands up slowly. “No, please!”
I wanted to feel sympathy for him but I couldn’t lie to myself. Frank’s exhilaration was contagious… as was his chuckle. I just joined him. With a lover’s drive, I reached out and pulled Frank closer, hugging him tight.
“Y’all shouldn’t have tried us,” I said to the bartender, struggling through the laughter.
The young man cowered back against the wall. The good looks made him vulnerable. His trembling hit another gear. I could even see tears form in his eyes, see his shivering hands try to wipe the teardrops away out of an embarrassment he couldn’t escape.
“No shit,” Frank replied.
Gripping on to Frank tighter, I sensed his adrenaline, his youthful euphoria… I felt the same way. In a quick turn, I stole an admiring glance at Frank. Amidst the blood stains and gooey grue, he never looked hotter. Out of part playfulness and part thirst, I ran a hand through his pompadour, disregarding the blood and sweat in favor of my own enjoyment.
“Can I try?” I asked.
Frank smirked.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bartender squirm. He knew what was coming next...
“You sure?” Frank said.
Not hesitating, I slammed the paper bag of cash into his chest. “Hell yeah.” I held my hand out toward Frank, already knowing the answer. “Hand it over, babe.”
An amused Frank placed the pistol in my palm.
“No!” I heard the bartender plead. “I won’t tell anyone!”
I looked on at the man that would be my first victim. I had to smirk, the confidence not just at a Great Depression but all-time high. Something about seeing the bartender quiver beneath my power satisfied me… similar to the way I felt when Frank first flirted with me. The same way I felt when Frank and I shared our first kiss.
“Please don’t!” the bartender went on. He held his hands out toward me for a pathetic shield. “I’m begging you. Please! Don’t kill me!”
“What are you waiting on?” I heard Frank tease me.
With a sarcastic glower, I faced him.
“You scared?” Frank went on.
“Not at all,” I replied. I then aimed right at the cashier. His subsequent panic gave me chills of the good variety. There was no inner struggle. Nothing crashed my mood… not even when we all noticed the cook finally fall face-first to the floor.
I deliberated on pulling the trigger. Such was the fun of seeing this stranger plead for his life. But I knew Frank would say something if I didn’t knock him off quick enough. Behind a smug smile, I fired my first shot.
One bullet got the bartender right between the eyes! Blood spewed over the wall behind him. The man jolted back, slipping and sliding over his own blood drenching the floor. His body was nothing more than a twitching corpse staving off the inevitable...
Turning, I held the gun out toward Frank. His stunned yet impressed expression electrified me. “I think I did better than you,” I noted.
Frank took the pistol from me. “How the Hell’d you learn how to shoot like that?”
“Daddy taught me.” I shrugged… not even breaking stride when I heard the bartender’s body splash into his blood. “We had a farm before the Crash.”
“I see.”
“I can probably shoot better than you,” I teased before leading the way toward the Black Dog entrance.
Grinning, Frank followed after me. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”
That massacre was our first crime. And to this day, the Black Dog Café robbery remained the most fun. Of course, I was glad Frank saved me at the time… I was glad he gave me my first ‘kill’ as well. But over time, our relationship grew more tense both in the personal and professional sense.
From 1930 to 1945, we ran strong without a wedding. But soon, the arguments increased. The unfaithful antics from both of us were constant. However, none of these were part of the reason I came to hate Frank Zito.
Up until that fateful heist, we’d only done small scale robberies in small town America. General stores, rural banks, we’d hit up the types of places we knew lacked security and the types of places no one in the press gave a damn about. Rarely were we ambitious even when we left behind a trail of corpses. Such was the outlaw way I’d learned from Frank: leave no witnesses... ever.
Of course, once the Depression ended we didn’t have to do as many jobs. The odd robbery here and there kept us afloat in our tour of two-star motels and bed-and-breakfasts. That being said, we didn’t have to keep doing these robberies… but we did anyway. We kept killing people.
I wasn’t complaining, Hell, I was the one who’d drag Frank alone for all the extra adventures. The excitement was too much. I needed this thrill.
The most pride I’d ever felt came not from the love I felt for Frank but the fun I had in this chase. I took immense pride in never being caught over those fifteen years. We were career crooks without a blemish on our resumè. And the whole time I thought we were more than just lovers… I thought we were a team.
But that all changed in the Carrabelle Hotel robbery. There down at the Florida beaches, I thought Frank and I would be set for the summer of 1945. We’d rob the nice yet quiet hotel lobby then run wild along the sandy white shoreline and the glistening blue waters of the Apalachee Bay.
Instead, Frank abandoned me. He left me for dead. After he’d secured the money and ran out to crank up the Chrysler Windsor, I stayed behind to make sure we’d be safe. I was the bodyguard for both of us at that point so I had to put a few slugs in the clerk just like I had to put one in the old security guard’s head. We couldn’t get caught, not with the love I had for Frank. Not when we had this bond.
Only seconds after rushing out of the lobby and into the blistering sunlight, I saw our bond was officially broken: Frank was gone. The Chrysler was nowhere in sight.
Sure, there was some panic… but that subsided once I remembered I’d killed all the witnesses. What I felt most now was heartbreak. For the first time in my life I felt emotions resembling hurt and anguish.
Frank’s betrayal battered me. The fact he hadn’t told me anything or left me a note made this break-up all the more bitter. And at the Carrabelle, I didn’t have much time to weep… not after committing a double murder.
It turned out I had to move faster than I expected. Right when I left the hotel lobby, I heard sirens crash the scene. How they got there that quickly wasn’t so much a question as another final insult from my ex. His latest sting put more salt in my wounded heart: he’d called the police after leaving me. Frank had stole my trust, my share of the money, and now he’d made a real mistake: he stole my respect.
I got out of there before anyone could hunt me down. Then I spent the next two years hibernating save for some spare slaughters. The attacks were just enough to keep me alive both in the financial and spiritual sense. Without Frank or anyone else to help in the executions, I had to be a bit more clever and target even smaller places. Always a Southern girl, I never strayed too far from Tallahassee either.
Much to my relief, no one ever suspected me. Getting a fake license and a new name helped but still, my calm demeanor and polite personality offset all suspicion. Regardless of the times I would give in to my literal bloodlust and go on a brief killing spree, I’d channel what Frank had taught me over the course of our relationship: how to blend in to societal conformity without sacrificing those carnal urges.
Aside from the murders, the main motivation that kept me surviving day after day (and soon, year after year) was Frank himself. I no longer needed him. I needed to kill him.
I stayed in hiding ever since the Carrabelle incident. A struggle, sure, and a wait that tested both my impatience and bitter emotions. Migrating from mediocre motel to mediocre boarding house meant all the more time I had to think about Frank and how he did me wrong. When I wasn’t crying, I’d punch walls or break furniture… and on those certain special nights, I’d take my anger out on whatever unlucky cashier or customer I stumbled upon in those exhilarating robberies.
Being this down and out meant I was often alone. Like an urban hermit, I rarely left whatever jail cell of a room I’d recently rented. There was no one in my life save for the other unsavory characters I’d stumble across: the hitmen, the drug dealers, small time crooks, and prostitutes that were all outcasts like me. Not that I was complaining… After Frank, I wouldn’t fall for the mirage of love again. I needed to focus on myself.
So that was why I made my way back out to Lake Ella in July of 1947. The date was close enough to Frank and I’s anniversary without making me angry or shed tears… it just made me feel a slight sickening sensation. The night air did little to suppress the heat but that didn’t stop me from making a single lap around the lake in order to scope out the scene.
A nearby city striking clock was heard sounding off ten times. But there was enough noise and chitter-chatter out here to drown out every one of those strikes… even this late, Lake Ella had experienced a post-Depression and post-World-War-II boom amongst the city’s disillusioned residents: namely the homeless, delinquents, and ex-soldiers.
None of the characters around me looked friendly. I got the side-eye glares, the sneers. Hands reached toward me in pitiful pick-up attempts I swiftly rejected with my glower. Dressed in a pants suit, I figured I’d look out-of-place but didn’t give a shit… I had something important I had to do.
During that initial lap, I saw where the lake now had a glorious fountain in the middle of it. I also passed Black Dog Café. Since the end of Prohibition, the Café had exploded even more in popularity. Right now, the jazz flowed through the night, its moody beat giving Lake Ella a deserving soundtrack. Outside Black Dog, I saw barflys and night owls of all ages congregate, their mood certainly more jovial than the usual clientele that was there during the era Frank and I were together. Yet deep down, I knew none of those drunks would ever reach the highs we did… damn sure not matching the joy of that mesmerizing moment Frank first handed me that gun.
Soon, I reached a phone booth. The spot was secluded like I wanted. A tall oak tree gave me added protection. A few sleeping ducks were my only companions in these shadows.
I slid inside and closed the glass door behind me. An elation began to stifle the simmering anger I’d felt throughout the walk. Wiping sweat off my bangs, I looked back at Black Dog. I wanted one last glimpse into the youthful euphoria and optimism Frank had me leave behind. Who’d have thought that one night at such a dive bar would be the highlight of my romantic life?
Leaning back, I snatched the phone off the hook. In the other hand, I revealed over ten nickels… an arsenal of time, I figured. I just hoped I had enough for this fateful phone call with Frank. Don’t ask me why but I had no worries on certain things: I knew he’d answer even this late.
Before I put the phone to my ear, a slight tapping hit the door! I could tell a long fingernail was surely the culprit.
I turned.
Not to my surprise, a frail woman in her sixties was standing outside. Her fingernails were claws, her curly hair a mop. She folded her arms not from a cold that didn’t exist this time of year but from an embarrassment at the many holes and patches her blouse and pants held.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she started. “But if you have any loose change, I’d really appreciate-”
I held up my arms, always my go-to defense for fending off the homeless. “I’m sorry.” I clenched my fist, making sure to hide the many nickels I had in tow. “I don’t have anything.”
The lady got the message. She gave me a nice smile and wave before making her way over toward the sidewalk.
I wasn’t upset. After all, she didn’t really bother me, she was just a minor roadblock to my goal. But for this paramount conversation with Frank, I needed my complete and utter focus.
Stealing one more glance out the door, I saw the woman now sitting on a bench. Her posture was defeated, the woman homeless but harmless.
Normally I’d have felt bad if not for the bigger plans I had in store. Not waiting any longer, I told the operator who I wanted: Frank Zito, the one with an address on Hemmings Street.
As she got to work on connecting us, I took a deep breath, the anxiety not from joy of talking to my ex but at finally confronting him.
Frank answered. I sensed his shock in the way he immediately lost his voice upon recognizing mine.
Just like I expected, Frank didn’t hang up. Somehow, I kept my cool regardless of the feelings I still kept inside: the love I still felt for him. But my own moral code wouldn’t allow mercy… not at this point.
Over those next few nickels I used as ammunition for time, our conversation stayed stilted. Frank was obviously awkward… he sounded uncharacteristically uneasy, Frank for once more nervous than me. I figured he was just trying to elicit sympathy. Such was the life of career criminals like us. You couldn’t trust us, and if you did, we took advantage… just as Frank had done to me before.
His acting job wasn’t too bad. Amidst Frank saying for the fifth time he’d left ‘that life’ behind, I gazed up at a starless sky. The pitch black night offered no light or hope… just darkness.
“I suggest you get out of it too, Anna,” Frank said, his voice a bit raspier, losing its energy slowly but surely since his apparent retirement. “It’s the best thing to ever happen to me. You just need to go somewhere and find a place you can call home-”
“I thought I did,” I replied in a cold, unflinching tone. Still I kept my clinical stance. I hid any of the anguish I knew would make me look weak… even if deep in my heart, I felt the same pitiful pain and hurt I’d felt since the day he abandoned me. “I thought it’d be with you, Frank.”
There was a hesitation on the other end... a solemn sigh.
Restraining my own urge to comfort what was once the love of my life, I looked out at Lake Ella’s dark waters. This late, I could hear the glorious fountain and its constant, rhythmic spewing even over Black Dog’s final act. Most of the café’s customers were gone while my night was just getting started… myself and the homeless woman who I still saw slouching on that park bench.
I heard Frank’s heavy breathing. Now I knew I had him really unsettled.
“Listen, Anna, don’t call me back,” he said. “Lose my number, get out of my Goddamn life.”
Those fun memories gave way to the hatred I’d been cultivating this entire time. I tilted my head back, tilting the phone’s receiver in the process… but there was no way I could deny how pissed I was. I hid the anger by way of not responding… not yet anyway.
“I can’t believe you,” Frank then sneered. “After two years, you still can’t fucking move on.”
Taking control, I held the receiver steady as I leaned in closer to the mouthpiece, my glower not going anywhere. “Well, Frank, it’d have been a lot easier if you had the balls to tell me.”
Frank scoffed. “Tell you what-”
“That you didn’t love me. That you were too fucking scared so instead you left me to die, you coward. You called the police.”
Frank didn’t reply… an awkward silence lingered on his end. He always cowered anytime he got called out or Hell, anytime he knew he fucked up.
I turned the pain into clear disdain. No way I was gonna cry now nor even let Frank hear me cry over him. “You can’t even apologize, can you,” I berated him.
In a burst of static, Frank’s voice hurled itself at me: “You’d have done the same, you crazy bitch! You killed them too-”
“But I wouldn’t have killed you,” I responded, my voice at a clinical coldness… the polar opposite of Frank’s current demeanor. Leaning back, I placed one hand against the glass. “I never would’ve.”
“And I damn sure wouldn’t have taken all the money, you asshole.” I shook my head in disgust but I stifled any chills or histrionics. I was taking the high road all the way. “I wouldn’t have left you to die.”
Frank let out a weary sigh as if he were rejecting a homeless person’s pitiful request rather than facing his sins from the past. “I did what I had to do, Anna. It was time.”
“Yes, I-”
“Time for you to start a family with Denise,” I said sharply and confidently… already knowing the answer.
I already knew Frank would go silent. He stopped in a stunned, scared stupor.
A devilish smirk crossed my lips as I sunk another nickel into the slot. “Yeah, I knew about her before you left me out there, Frank.” I laid a hand against my temple, the sadistic excitement beginning to return. “I just didn’t wanna see it then.”
Frank’s breathing became gasps. His voice was the sound of dread personified.
“Not when I loved you,” I added.
“How’d you know?” Frank finally mustered out.
“I know a lot of things.” The joy began to boil up inside me. I even cracked a smile. “I know what happened to you Frank.”
Again, Frank paused. His discomfort was clear: there was the way the line got more static and the way I could hear my ex’s frantic footsteps pacing about.
“You moved back to Tally,” I went on. Still holding the receiver, I slouched against the glass. “That’s why I’m here now actually.”
“What,” Frank blurted. “Goddammit, Anna.”
“All I wanted’s an apology, Frank,” I said to him. In a quick swipe, I ran a hand across my eyes, making sure there were no tears. “But I can see that’ll never happen.”
“An apology for what!” Frank said. His subsequent laughter was forced and weak… the cry of a defiant man not wanting to admit his obvious defeat. “I only did what anyone’d do!”
Unfazed, I took my time: “I know where you live.”
Frank forced a scoff. “That’s bullshit-”
“Seventy-five Hemmings Street.”
Through the phone alone, I could hear Frank’s fright. I could hear the way his soul sank straight down. “Shit,” he started, the frantic spit off his mouth flying off the line. “What the Hell, Anna, you’re fucking crazy!”
“I already got someone there, Frank,” I said matter-of-factly. I checked my watch: 11:15. “Hell, they’re probably already there by now.” I slid another nickel in… just one.
“What…” Frank stumbled. “Anna, what are you, what are you doing!”
“I hired someone to take you out,” my typewriter cadence continued. “They’re just waiting on my cue.”
“Your cue? What fucking cue!?”
“When I hang up, they’ll know. Then they’ll kill you, Frank.” I grinned again… my biggest one yet. “It’s that simple.”
“Listen,” Frank pleaded, his panic hitting overdrive. “Listen, Anna. You can’t do this!”
Already I could hear more static cutting in. Frank’s quick movements, his quick search for a potential killer killed our phone call’s connection.
“Look, Goddammit, I’m sorry, alright!” Frank went on. “You wanna meet in person! I’ll Goddamn apologize in person!”
“It’s too late, I’m afraid,” I responded. I opened my palm, revealing quite a few more nickels. There was maybe thirty seconds left on the call but I didn’t feel any urgency… Instead, I closed my palm. That time ammo was gone from my sight. “I gave you a chance, Frank.”
“But wait-”
“I gave you plenty of chances actually,” I interrupted, some emotion crashing the detached demeanor I tried to keep.
Frank engaged in a profanity parade… his only defense against the fear. “You don’t know shit! You’re lying, Anna! You’re a Goddamn criminal like me!”
Smirking, I ran the receiver against my head, toying with myself just as much as my ex. My manic enthusiasm had me mesmerized. “It’s the grill, Frank.”
“Your spare key. It’s where you left it and where you lost it.”
“You crazy bitch! You fucking-”
“I gave it to them, Frank,” I said. “And when this call’s done, you’re done.”
Frank practically growled. But I wasn’t scared. Now I had control…
Then Frank’s anger dissipated into melancholy. “Anna, please. You don’t understand,” he said.
Scoffing, I leaned in closer toward the mouthpiece. “I don’t understand what?”
“I’ve got a family now!” Frank yelled, the horror shredding up what was a strong Southern accent. “I’ve got a wife and kids, Anna! Billy’s three-years-old!”
“Oh, I know,” was my sharp reply. With a cynical chuckle, I hovered around that mouthpiece while pretending to hover around Frank’s grave. “And they’re done too.”
“Goddammit, Anna!”
Frank’s fear was sweet music to my ears. So much so that I didn’t even wanna hang up… not yet anyway.
“Please, Anna! Come here, let’s talk!” Frank’s sympathy tour continued.
I relished this moment. I really did. “Remember, Frank,” I said. I then pulled the receiver further away from my ear, further distancing myself from my ex-partner-in-crime. “It all happens when I hang up.”
The call’s white noise increased when Frank’s erratic movement went wild. “Anna, don’t!” I heard a door slam shut on his end. “Just stay on the line!”
There was still about ten seconds left on my last nickel. “I have to, Frank,” I told him, not showing any hint of empathy or emotion. “It’s what I have to do.”
“Anna!” Frank kept pleading. “Goddammit, I’m sorry!” I then heard a loud collapse! A bang.
I didn’t wait around to hear the ambush. I hung up right then and there. I hung up the receiver before those hitmen would wipe out Frank’s entire new ‘family’... and well before I could feel any sympathy toward the man who’d nearly killed me two years ago and who’d still attempted to find his way into my heart after such a brutal betrayal.
Now all I had was staunch silence. But my conscience was steady. I felt a comfort, a resolve. Soothed amidst what I was sure was a mass murder, I looked down at those nickels once more. Goddamn, I still had quite the handful.
Amidst the many thoughts I had, none feared for Frank nor his family’s safety. Hell, I’d have done it myself if not for the logistics or obvious motive… If anything, I felt a release from all the wrong he’d done. For once, I was really flying solo. I was a badass crook that was left on her own… and gladly so.
I stepped out from a claustrophobic, stifling phone booth and into the stifling summer night. There was no one to congratulate me in the dark night, no one but my own pride... That is, until the homeless lady approached me once more. With no use for those nickels, I gave her all of them. No more did I need them tonight. Not when I knew Frank Zito was gone for good.
submitted by bravesfan14 to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 Romulus3799 In Knives Out (2019), Christopher Plummer hires Daniel Craig to investigate his family and find the murderer among them. This is because Rian Johnson is a terrible writer (just like the Star Wars fans said) and couldn't even maintain continuity on Plummer's death at the start of the film.

In Knives Out (2019), Christopher Plummer hires Daniel Craig to investigate his family and find the murderer among them. This is because Rian Johnson is a terrible writer (just like the Star Wars fans said) and couldn't even maintain continuity on Plummer's death at the start of the film. submitted by Romulus3799 to shittymoviedetails [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 ashleyepidemic TAN (To All Nations) - TAN in Wonderland 18-28 [ep.04] (220120) (ENG Sub)

TAN (To All Nations) - TAN in Wonderland 18-28 [ep.04] (220120) (ENG Sub) submitted by ashleyepidemic to kpop [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 wherefish Nice (new trophies)

Nice (new trophies) submitted by wherefish to PS4 [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 masstaker810 違法残業疑い、月342時間も 人気洋菓子店を書類送検

違法残業疑い、月342時間も 人気洋菓子店を書類送検 submitted by masstaker810 to newsokunomoral [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 NobodyQuiteLikeMe With the help of y’all, here is the theorized character roster (from what we’ve seen so far). It needs three more characters to be complete!

Admiral Holdo Aftab Ackbar Alcida-Auka Anakin Skywalker (3) Anakin Skywalker (4) Anakin Skywalker (2) Ap’lek Ren Aurra Sing Battle Droid (6) Battle Droid (Super) BB-8 (2) BB-9E Babu Frik Bail Organa Bala Tik Barriss Offee Bazine Netal Beaumont Kin Ben Solo Bib Fortuna Biggs Darklighter Boba Fett Boba Fett (Boy) Bobbajo Boolio Boss Nass Bossk ? C-3PO (6) Captain Antilles Captain Canady Captain Panaka Captain Peavey Captain Phasma (2) Captain Tarpals Captain Typho Cardo Ren Carib Diss Chewbacca Chief Chirpa Clone Trooper (5) Clone Trooper (5) Commander Cody Commander D’Acy Commander Gree ? Count Dooku D-0 DJ DJ (First Order) Darth Maul (2) Darth Vader (2) ? Dengar Dexter Jettster
submitted by NobodyQuiteLikeMe to LegoStarWarsVideoGame [link] [comments]

2022.01.21 13:36 EmotialDamage2022 I’m free ‼️

I’m free ‼️ submitted by EmotialDamage2022 to covidpositive [link] [comments]