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It was a dark and blustery Thanksgiving Day in the small American town of Springfield. The streets were deserted, the houses seemed to sag under the weight of disappointment, and a chilling wind rustled the fallen leaves. Inside a modest, weathered home, the atmosphere was equally bleak.
The dining room table was set for four, but there was no abundance of food to grace it. A single turkey, smaller than in years past, sat in the center, its aroma filling the room with a faint promise of better days. Gathered around the table were the AZDungBalls family: John, the father; Mary, his wife; and their two children, William and Emily.
John AZDungBalls was a man who had once believed he could secure a fortune from thin air. His latest venture into the world of speculative investments, a penny stock scam called VPLM, had shattered his dreams and emptied his pockets. His face was etched with lines of worry, and his eyes bore the weight of regret. He stared at the turkey with a hollow expression, knowing that he had gambled away their future.
Mary AZDungBalls sat opposite her husband, her once-genteel countenance now marked by frustration and anger. Her dreams of new clothes and a comfortable life had evaporated, replaced by the harsh reality of financial ruin. She fiddled with the edge of her faded apron, her silence conveying her disapproval more effectively than words ever could.
William and Emily, their dreams of college now crushed, sat on either side of their parents, their faces a mix of disappointment and resentment. They had been promised an education, but now their hopes lay in tatters, buried beneath their father's reckless greed.
As they began to serve themselves from the meager Thanksgiving spread, conversation around the table was at times sharp and vituperative. John defended his actions, clinging to the forlorn hope that VPLM would rebound miraculously, while Mary berated him for his foolishness.
"You could have ruined this family, John," she hissed, her voice trembling with anger.
"I thought it was a sure thing, Mary," he replied, his tone pleading for understanding.
Emily, the elder of the two children, couldn't contain her frustration any longer. "Dad, you've destroyed our future!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking.
Before John could respond, the room was filled with an ominous knock on the door. The entire family turned to see three stern-looking men in suits standing on the doorstep. They were bailiffs, come to foreclose on the Broadbean's modest home.
John's face drained of color as he realized the gravity of the situation. His folly had led them not only to financial ruin but now threatened to leave them homeless. Panic welled up within him.
The bailiffs entered the dining room, their presence casting a shadow over the already somber gathering. Mary's eyes filled with tears, and the children stared wide-eyed at the strangers invading their home.
With a stern and impersonal tone, one of the bailiffs addressed John, "AZDungBalls, we have a legal obligation to proceed with the foreclosure of this property. You have until the end of the day to vacate."
The weight of reality crashed down upon John, and he bowed his head in defeat. He had gambled away not only their financial security but the very roof over their heads.
As the bailiffs left the room to complete their paperwork, the AZDungBalls family sat in stunned silence, their Thanksgiving meal forgotten. The turkey lay cold and untouched, a symbol of their shattered dreams and the harsh consequences of their choices.
In the dimly lit room, on that dark and blustery Thanksgiving Day, the faced a future uncertain and bleak, their family torn apart by greed and despair. Charles Dickens himself might have found this tale of woe a stark reminder of the perils of unchecked ambition and the price of recklessness.
Still time to get to Comacchio:
https://www.sagradellanguilla.it/mobile/
Not even close.
I can promise you I've never been an apologist for IPIX, nor made up positive n=1 stories about one of IPIX (alleged) drug candidates.
I’m glad he’s taking it philosophically. In addition to the THC supplements you have provided, maybe he - and maybe his wife- should consider hallucinogenics?
Michael Pollan’s book “How to Change your Mind” is interesting on this topic.
That’s an insult then. Laphroig is the only Islay worth drinking.
The (Hungry) Ghost of Thanksgiving future:
It was a dark and blustery Thanksgiving Day 2023 in the small American town of Beanfield. The streets were deserted, the houses seemed to sag under the weight of disappointment, and a chilling wind rustled the fallen leaves. Inside a modest, weathered home, the atmosphere was equally bleak.
The dining room table was set for four, but there was no abundance of food to grace it. A single turkey, smaller than in years past, sat in the center, its aroma filling the room with a faint promise of better days. Gathered around the table were the Broadbean family: John, the father; Mary, his wife; and their two children, William and Emily.
John Broadbean was a man who had once believed he could secure a fortune from thin air. His latest venture into the world of speculative investments, a penny stock scam called IPIX, had shattered his dreams and emptied his pockets. His face was etched with lines of worry, and his eyes bore the weight of regret. He stared at the turkey with a hollow expression, knowing that he had gambled away their future.
Mary Broadbean sat opposite her husband, her once-genteel countenance now marked by frustration and anger. Her dreams of new clothes and a comfortable life had evaporated, replaced by the harsh reality of financial ruin. She fiddled with the edge of her faded apron, her silence conveying her disapproval more effectively than words ever could.
William and Emily, their dreams of college now crushed, sat on either side of their parents, their faces a mix of disappointment and resentment. They had been promised an education, but now their hopes lay in tatters, buried beneath their father's reckless greed.
As they began to serve themselves from the meager Thanksgiving spread, conversation around the table was at times sharp and vituperative. John defended his actions, clinging to the forlorn hope that IPIX would rebound miraculously, while Mary berated him for his foolishness.
"You could have ruined this family, John," she hissed, her voice trembling with anger.
"I thought it was a sure thing, Mary," he replied, his tone pleading for understanding.
Emily, the elder of the two children, couldn't contain her frustration any longer. "Dad, you've destroyed our future!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking.
Before John could respond, the room was filled with an ominous knock on the door. The entire family turned to see three stern-looking men in suits standing on the doorstep. They were bailiffs, come to foreclose on the Broadbean's modest home.
John's face drained of color as he realized the gravity of the situation. His folly had led them not only to financial ruin but now threatened to leave them homeless. Panic welled up within him.
The bailiffs entered the dining room, their presence casting a shadow over the already somber gathering. Mary's eyes filled with tears, and the children stared wide-eyed at the strangers invading their home.
With a stern and impersonal tone, one of the bailiffs addressed John, "Mr. Broadbean, we have a legal obligation to proceed with the foreclosure of this property. You have until the end of the day to vacate."
The weight of reality crashed down upon John, and he bowed his head in defeat. He had gambled away not only their financial security but the very roof over their heads.
As the bailiffs left the room to complete their paperwork, the Broadbean family sat in stunned silence, their Thanksgiving meal forgotten. The turkey lay cold and untouched, a symbol of their shattered dreams and the harsh consequences of their choices.
In the dimly lit room, on that dark and blustery Thanksgiving Day, the Broadbeans faced a future uncertain and bleak, their family torn apart by greed and despair. Charles Dickens himself might have found this tale of woe a stark reminder of the perils of unchecked ambition and the price of recklessness.
“Biden Issues a Blistering Attack on Trump
During an appearance in Arizona, President Biden portrayed former President Donald J. Trump as a budding autocrat with no fidelity to the tenets of American democracy.”
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/28/us/politics/biden-mccain-library.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share&referringSource=articleShare
You seem a bit discombobulated.
I understand that being taken for a ride by an obvious grifter like Emil Malak must be both humbling and embarrassing, but try not to take it out on your betters (i.e. most everybody).
Thanks in advance!
Your taxpayer dollars at work supporting scams like IPIX:
I noticed the debut of that little announcement too:
You know how some VPLM pimps maintain that failing to file Form 4s on time is not a serious offense?
Turns out to be complete bullshit:
I remember engaging with (someone who claimed to be) PURA's CEO:
https://investorshub.advfn.com/boards/read_msg.aspx?message_id=80540716
It was such an obvious scam, it was laughable.
These guys still paying wages to the D Team penny stock promotion crew?
I suspect they're not getting a good return on their "investment".
Which would also be the case for anybody fololish enough to buy this sorry scam in the mistaken belief this a genuine company.
IPIX' Italian partner to buy Intercept:
Italy's Alfasigma to buy drugmaker Intercept for nearly $800 mln:
https://finance.yahoo.com/news/italys-alfasigma-buy-drugmaker-intercept-120843745.html
To be fair, Intercept's drug is nearly as crappy as brilacidin, both in terms of efficacy and side-effects - but OTOH it does have approval in both the US and the EU.
It's what happens when surrogate end-points are used in the drug approval process instead of clinically meaningful outcomes, sadly.
I banked $20k before the Dump
Of course you did. No, I mean really.
Honest.
LOL!
Actually I do.
So you’re 100% wrong.
Again.
Today saw the sub two pennies - actually 1.98 cents - for which the "true longs" have all been begging for such a long time.