#CBD Switch

[priteva-blog]

Investing in Deception: How Friendship, Love, and Ambition Fueled a $150,000 Scam

This is a story I find deeply triggering, one that I’ve struggled to tell. But in reliving it, there are lessons to be learned about the perils of misplaced trust and the high cost of blind loyalty. It’s a story of deception, ambition, and heartbreak — a cautionary tale about the dark side of supporting friends in their entrepreneurial dreams. For the sake of privacy, names have been changed to protect the innocent.

It was the spring of 2019 when my long-time friend, *Lauryn, came to me with a business opportunity. Lauryn and I had been close for over 15 years, our bond forged in the trenches of grad school and solidified by shared life experiences. When she pitched her idea to me, I didn’t hesitate to listen. She was more than a friend — she was my sister, and I was eager to see her succeed.

Lauryn had been through a lot. Two years earlier, she lost her husband, becoming a single mother to two young children at just 39. As a widow, she faced challenges that would have broken many, but Lauryn was resilient. She was rebuilding her life, and I was invested in her success. That’s why, when she approached me about reviving her wellness business, I was all in.

Lauryn was no novice in the health and wellness industry. She had owned a natural body care line, taught fitness classes, and dreamed of opening her own wellness center. She was knowledgeable, passionate, and ready to take her business to the next level. So, when she met Zacharia Ali — a financier, businessman, and investor — at our local LA Fitness, she believed it was a divine connection.

All Smoke and Mirrors

Zac was everything Lauryn needed at that moment — a businessman with a wealth of experience, or so it seemed. He offered her intimacy, mentorship, and guidance. Lauryn fell for him, both as a romantic partner and mentor. Zac carried himself with an air of authority, his words laced with the promise of success and prosperity. He spoke of his business accolades and widespread connections. He informed her that he was divorced, had sadly lost a child in a car accident, and had moved to the area for a fresh start. He was a practicing Muslim from a prominent family in Philadelphia. He was well-connected and had successfully launched many companies, and now he wanted to do the same for Lauryn.

The First Red Flag: Trust, but Verify

When Lauryn introduced me to Zac, I was initially impressed. He spoke with authority about entrepreneurship, investing, and the importance of ownership in the Black community. He even attended my birthday party, where we discussed his ventures in South America, the Middle East, and the African diaspora. Over time, Zac and I exchanged messages about business opportunities, and he seemed genuinely invested in our shared goals.

Zac became more than just Lauryn’s romantic partner and mentor; he became a central figure in our budding business venture. He offered to use his extensive network to help Lauryn relaunch her brand, promising to turn it into an international success. The plan was ambitious but enticing: we would create a line of CBD-infused skincare products, tapping into the booming wellness market. I was hesitant but hopeful. Lauryn’s trust in him reassured me. In hindsight, I should have let Lauryn and Zac work together without getting involved.

Despite my initial reservations, I convinced myself that Zac’s impressive background and Lauryn’s enthusiasm were enough to move forward. I researched Zac’s company, Zar Capital, and found nothing alarming — just websites and social media endorsements that aligned with his stories. But I ignored the small voice inside that urged caution.

The Second Red Flag: If It Sounds Too Good to Be True, It Probably Is

Despite my initial excitement, a nagging voice in the back of my mind urged caution. I researched Zac and his company, Zar Capital. His online presence seemed legitimate — impressive even. His website detailed his supposed business ventures in South America, the Middle East, and across the African diaspora. But beyond the polished surface, something felt off.

Still, Lauryn was convinced. Zac had become her rock, helping her navigate the complexities of business and life after loss. She believed in him, and because I believed in her, I put my doubts aside. Under Zac’s guidance, we formed a business partnership: Lauryn would hold 50% of the company, Zac 30%, and I would take a 20% stake. It seemed like a fair arrangement, and over the next few months, Lauryn and I made substantial investments via wire transfer, totaling $110,000. We were instructed to send the money to a Navy Federal account for GC Worldwide under the umbrella of Zac’s businesses, CBD Switch Holding Corp and Zar Capital.

Another Red Flag: All New Opportunities Are Not Good Opportunities — The Moringa Mirage

As if the CBD venture wasn’t enough, Zac presented me with another investment opportunity: a business centered around the Moringa plant in Ethiopia. He pitched it as low-risk, with the potential for high returns and the added appeal of supporting Black businesses in Africa. He presented me with diagrams, mocks, financials, a business plan, and extensive research. I invested $40,000, and we formed a company called the Moringa Cartel. Through documented email presentations, Zac promised to establish operations in Ghana, help with the business plan, and set up the website. I was excited about the prospects, but the excitement was short-lived.

Trust Your Gut

Once the money was sent and the paperwork signed, unease set in. I noticed discrepancies, like the fact that our business was registered in Nevada, even though we were all based in the Mid-Atlantic region. I decided to dig deeper, using the state of Nevada’s business portal, Silver Flume. What I found left me reeling: only the company formed between Lauryn, Zac, and me existed as a domestic corporation. My name wasn’t listed anywhere, and neither was Zac’s. Lauryn was the sole officer of the company. As for the Moringa Cartel, it was nothing more than a name reservation that had expired three months after its formation. On paper, my $100,000 investment had vanished into thin air.

“All Skinfolk Ain’t Kinfolk”

The pandemic hit, bringing unforeseen challenges. Despite this, I consistently reached out to Zac for updates. I pleaded with Lauryn to help, assuming her closer relationship with Zac might yield answers. But her relationship with Zac had soured, and she informed me that her new venture with a national television show prevented her from pursuing any legal action for at least a year. I was on my own.

I demanded that Zac dissolve my participation in the business and return my funds. His response was vague, promising to return the money once his partner returned from overseas. But days turned into weeks, and I received nothing but silence. Then, instead of the money, I received a cease-and-desist letter — a blatant attempt to intimidate me. My attorney dismissed it as legally invalid, but the damage was done. I realized too late that I should have involved legal counsel from the start.

Desperate, I contacted the Prince George’s County Financial Crimes Division and met with a detective. Lauryn accompanied me, providing proof of her own financial losses. The detective initially suspected she and Zac were working together to scam me, but her evidence showed otherwise. Still, the State’s Attorney’s office couldn’t help; our losses, though significant to us, didn’t meet the threshold for prosecution.

The Aftermath

The full scope of Zac’s betrayal came to light when I discovered another woman who had fallen victim to his schemes. Through social media, I connected with a young lady on Facebook who had also been scammed by Zac. Her story mirrored Lauryn’s — she, too, had trusted him, invested in his ventures, and been left with nothing but broken promises. She had been physically and romantically involved. The end result was a broken heart and $60,000 poorer. Her story was both devastating and validating. We were not alone, but that did little to ease the pain.

In total, I had invested $100,000 — $60,000 in the CBD skincare line and $40,000 in the Moringa Cartel. But the financial loss was just one part of the devastation. The betrayal cut deeper. Lauryn, the sister I had trusted implicitly, had unknowingly led me into the arms of a predator. Zac had exploited her vulnerability, using our friendship as a tool to manipulate and deceive.

I was left with nothing — no money, no business, and no means of contacting Zac. Emails bounced back, texts went unread, and calls went straight to voicemail. I had been swindled out of $100,000, and there was no way to recover it. Heartbroken, Lauryn had lost $50,000 and wanted nothing more to do with the situation.

Lessons Learned

Looking back, the signs were there. But I ignored them, blinded by the desire to support a friend in need and the allure of a promising business opportunity. I’ve since learned the hard way that when something seems too good to be true, it usually is. In the end, I had to come to terms with the trauma of losing everything because I let my desire to help a friend cloud my judgment. I was emotionally invested in Lauryn’s well-being, but I failed to do my due diligence on Zac. I trusted blindly and paid a heavy price.

Conclusion

In the end, the story isn’t just about a lost investment or a failed business venture. It’s about the importance of critical thinking, the danger of blind loyalty, and the painful reality that not everyone who enters your life has good intentions. I was betrayed by a man I barely knew, but also by my own willingness to believe in the impossible.

Let this be a reminder: Protect your dreams but protect your heart and your wallet even more. This experience has left me scarred, but it has also made me wiser. I share this story not to shame myself or Lauryn, but to warn others. In the world of business, and in life, there are those who will prey on your goodwill and ambition. The best defense is vigilance — ask questions, trust your instincts, and never let excitement cloud your judgment.

[vaporevon]

i’m really trying random shit at this point to stop my erratic sleeping at both ends. tonight im trying stronger melatonin (i don’t use it regularly, just emergencies like this hshshsjs. since it fucks up my sleep cycle when i use it too often) plus a nose strip to hopefully make waking up easier. ian told me i snore so im thinking possibly chronic snoring might be making my sleep quality absolute ass. we’ll see. i hope i wake up on time for work 🥴

also this is the first time i am using a nasal strip and i feel like ive never breathed out of my nose before in my life

[therealslimstrider]

Bro I'm high as fuck.

[witchyxmilf]

.

[zignifier]

Do I have a headache because of dehydration, sleep deprivation, or dissociation...? All three...?

[plague-of-insomnia]

300 mg tramadol er is so niceeeee

[sydneycbdrepaircentre]

❤ Apple now makes it easier to switch from Google Photos to iCloud Photos

    Apple and Google have teamed up to introduce a new data portability tool that lets users transfer their Google Photos collections straight to iCloud Photos. This follows the launch of a tool that lets you transfer iCloud Photos to Google Photos back in 2021. Apple and Google’s work is part of the Data Transfer Project, which is an open-source initiative focused on data portability between…

[lostintransist]

This Bunny Bites | Part 15

Part 1 | AO3

You had popped home to get yourself ready. A cute matching set under a pair of gray sweatpants you stole from one ex and a band hoodie you kept from another ex and you were ready to grab everything else. A pair of ballroom heels, an aux cord that would connect to your phone, and the CBD lotion all got tossed in your bag. The case of sports drink you had snagged on the store sat on your backseat.

The sparkly heels never failed to make you smile. Todd had been in his seventies when he found you dancing at the club and loved to spend money on you. He even took you to dance classes for ballroom dance and bought the heels so you would fit in. When he passed a few years later you got an invite to his funeral. There were a lot of familiar faces in black that day.

Sasha was a dancer turned pole teacher. A dance studio and a solid income that had business records and a tax guy, the whole kit and caboodle. Staying friends with ladies as they left dancing had always been hard but Sasha, a shrewd businesswoman before all else, kept connections like coins in her pocket. A call to Sasha and you could get just about anything you need.

Many sex workers who chose the work were sharks. Tons of people thought sharks were the predators to fear in the sea. Not you. One too many nature documentaries had taught you to fear orcas. Whale Killers is what they were called before a mistranslation renamed them Killer Whales. That’s what Sasha was, a whale killer.

Cara had been texted the moment you got off the phone with Sasha. She would get back to you when she had a moment at work. The jump to the corporate world had been hard and Cara missed dancing, even though she wouldn’t say as much. Doing your due diligence as her best friend, you checked if Kyle had reached out yet in a follow-up message. Her replies came through as a single word each: yep, nope. Oh, so they were all on your shit list tonight then.

These ruthless soldiers would suffer before the night was over.

The studio had five poles in the room you rented for the night; which was more than enough room to have the men at a time practicing some basic moves. You figured you and Cara could switch off at the instructing. This wouldn’t be the first time that you and your soul mate had taught together. Cara, Sasha, and you had all worked at the same club. You and Cara would even make up random dances when things got slow.

The strip mall had enough parking to let you park closer but knowing Sasha had a class coming in later you parked further out and carried in your bag and the drinks. As much as you wanted to break the men who your brother claimed as family instead of you, the person your mother had tried to raise found her voice at the worst times, hence the lotion and the drinks.

With no sign of Sasha when you got through the door you headed left to the private room. The hardwood clicked under your shoes as the LEDs shined on you in silence. Setting the case of fluids off to one side you set the room lights to dim but not squinting levels of dark. Plugging in your phone to the speaker you queue up a generic pole playlist. You wouldn’t get caught off guard by some of your favorite dance songs and make a fool of yourself in front of them. Stripping off your outer layers you set about warming up on the pole.

You knew, by word of mouth because you were not stupid enough to ask, that sometimes Sasha still took personal clients off the books. Exploring would only land your ass in hot water, and as much as you loved a warm shower, the lava of knowledge would melt you into carbon.

They all showed up. Surprising really. You expected at least one of them to call out. Must be the brotherhood that wouldn’t allow them to lose face in front of the others.

“Holy shit.” Johnny lets out a whistle of surprise.

You were upside down on the pole when they walked in. One hand low on the pole, taking most your weight, the other pulling you up as your legs hover parallel to the floor. Glancing up as you dismount from the pole you see Cara is practicing an air walk. Cara is grace incarnate, even with all the time away from the work.

Her hair had been growing out for a few years now; her braid settled between her shoulders. The strands of silver that you had started to notice at her hairline made you love your best friend all the more. Perfectly proportionate from the shoulders down, with hints of muscle, and a killer hit of a smile, Cara can be the physical incarnation of either a goddess or cunt when she tries. You could only run with the big dogs because of her. Cara saved you in so many ways. Sometimes you wished that sexuality was a choice because she would have been yours.

All four men look like they took a flashbang to the face. Kyle, especially, looks affected. Good. Maybe he would call Cara now.

She isn’t breathing hard as she touches down. A glance over the staring eyes and they are dismissed. You’re up.

The order wasn’t repeated but it takes a few minutes for them to listen. When every man is down to his boxers and dog tags, or in Ghost’s case boxers, a wife beater, dog tags, and a surgical mask, you begin your lesson. First point, always, is safety. Once the basics are covered you show them three moves, a 360, a fireman, and a back hook. Your goal is to get them used to spinning and getting their feet off the ground. Learning to trust themselves and the pole can be a whole lesson on its own.

Cara, by unspoken agreement, had taken charge of Kyle and Johnny. That left you to handle Ghost and Price. Something about turning on your teaching brain lets you focus on their moves and not on the bodies before you. Obviously, you noticed the collection of tattoos that lay like ruins under the coating of Price’s body hair. You also noticed how Ghost’s tattoo sleeve extended to his shoulder, intricate details that you wanted draped over your shoulder. You also discovered his ditch-water blond hair. Would his beard be blond?

Price, after the fifth time of attempting a 360, started to get red in the face. He could do this, he has the grip strength but he either failed to get the pole spinning before he tried or chickened out if he was moving.

Kyle is the first one to get his feet off the ground. Cara gives a few light claps before making him do it again. The glance at Johnny has you getting Cara’s attention on him with a jerk of your chin. His hands were too close together for what he was trying.

Switching your attention back to Price you watch a moment. Tapping him on the arm with two fingers you wait for his attention. Once both feet are on the ground, brows furrowed, and hands on his hips you give him instruction.

“Let’s try the back hook instead, seems like you need to feel secure. Put one hand on the bar, good.” Pointing at yourself and moving as you speak you explain the next step, “With your outside foot take one step, then when your inside foot steps instead of letting it touch down on the floor hook it over the bar.”

Ghost had been watching, and seemingly not staring at your tits or your ass. Shame that. You picked this set deliberately because of the amount of ass cheek that the cut showed off and how the sheer fabric of the bra cups kept you secure but teased the shape and darkness of your nipples.

Both men followed your instructions. And both made it up.

Ghost made a comment to Price, and called the fates to bowl a strike on their night.

“Knew it wasn’t that hard if so many birds can do it,” he lifted a brow at Price who chuckled.

Cara huffed a disbelieving laugh and muttered loud enough to carry across the room. “Fools. The gods only listen to fools after dark.”

Apollo must have kissed Cara’s bloodline long ago because Kyle went down within minutes. After a series of moves, he looked nauseous, hand gripping the pole with such a tight grip the color of his knuckles changed. You caught sight of him in the mirror.

“Kyle, ass on the floor now,” the command bounced off the mirror as you started toward your bag.

The hand not on the pole formed a fist and pressed tight to his mouth as he slid to the ground. By the time he settled against the hardwood, your bag was being thrown down near his feet and you were uncrossing his legs to get them elevated.

“Back to spinning Captain, you’re not in charge tonight.” You catch Price’s eye in the mirror as he nearly to his down man. Without moving your gaze you continue, “Kyle lay flat for me. Now tell me, dizzy or vertigo?”

“Vertigo.”

Nodding, you shoo Price with a flick of your fingers. The man had a problem taking orders. Settling into a kneeling position near his shoulder you watch his face.

“Alright, that’s something we can deal with. Does this happen often?”

“Eh,” Kyle waggled his hand to and fro, “Fell out of a chopper, don’t deal well with spinning since.”

Even if you had been working you wouldn’t have been able to stop the impressed look from settling on your face. He grinned at your expression. Pressing the pad of your forefinger to his forehead lightly you scowl down at him.

“Don’t let it get to your head lover boy. Sometimes men can do impressive things.”

The crazy glare you see your brother throw Kyle is promptly ignored. You were trying civility on for size tonight. Once Kyle feels well enough to sit up you help him up. When you stand on your knees the man ends up eye level with your tits. Oop. There it is. The startled glance from your nipples to your eyes has you waggling your brows with a smirk and standing. Kyle rises easily, happy to be set to the side with a sports drink as his stomach settles. You kick your bag across the floor until it is out of the way.

Ghost goes down next. In the split second when all his weight hung by an arm before his leg secured the pole something in his shoulder shifted. The barest dip in his body and the grunt from his mouth told you what had happened. It was a pretty common injury. Not quite a dislocation but his shoulder wasn’t seated perfectly anymore. Crossing the room in a few short strides you hooked an arm around his middle and walked him back by force of personality alone. Man had to be at least double your weight; most of your weight being muscle. He moved willingly.

Directing him to sit next to Kyle you wait until his long legs are settled mostly straight to straddle his thigh. You pay no mind to the shift in his boxers. You’d salivate later.

“Alright, let’s see here,” you don’t ask permission before you start rubbing your fingers into the joint. Yep, exactly what you expected. His shoulder is tight, all of the muscles fighting to keep Ghost’s arm from moving any further out of place than it had already done so.

“Kyle, in my bag should be a container of lotion. Would you grab that?”

Kyle, helpful man he is, opened and presented the lotion to you. Scooping out a healthy amount on your fingers you press it firmly in and around Ghost’s shoulder. Some breaths from him escape as whines and others as grunts of pain.

Once the lotion is absorbed, and the CBD doing its best to relax his muscles, you pinch Ghost’s forearm between your elbow and your waist. Your other hand settles on his tricep.

“This is gonna feel funny, just focus on keeping your shoulder relaxed,” you lean back as you talk to him. You stretch until that point where his body fights, the connections unwilling to give anymore. Once there you slowly release his arm back feeling to ensure that it seats correctly. When no odd tension arises and all pressure on his arm has ceased you pat Ghost where you still hold him.

“Doing alright? How’s the shoulder feel?”

He lifted his arm off you, stretching and rotating it.

“Better than the last time physio had their hands on me, that’s for damn sure.”

With a grin you stand, shin purposefully brushing sensitive areas as you rise.

“Glad to hear it, I do like leaving men better than I found them…” You smile down at Ghost and Kyle in what one man had called your man-eating grin and continue, “Sometimes.”

A commotion of swears and thuds of heels hitting the floor has you spinning in time to see Johnny go down in a mess of limbs. Price stopped his spinning and helped your brother up. The rage in his face made Johnny look exactly like your father did. It slapped you like a sneaker wave, determined to drag you out to see and let the whale killers have you if the ocean didn’t kill you first.

Part 14 | Part 16

Bunny Masterlist | Masterlist

Cute divider from @/jimzittos

@leahnicole1219 @notsochillnerd @darling006 @harperstyles @lucienofthelakes @redkarmakai @demothers-empty-blog @cheese-pull @itsmeamysworld @fluffysmiko @w0ede @skeletonsucker @defronix @lilynotdilly @whisperwispxx @stinkii-boii @hyperfixation-train-station @littlelovebug98

[weirdmageddon]

(for the 20th time) okay FOR REAL THIS TIME i’m going on a tolerance break. dont even give yourself enough time to think it through because you’ll never start. just locked my ksafe for 7 days and hopefully in a week i won’t have the afternoon urge to take an edible and it’ll be easier to keep the t-break up. the psychological dependence is stronger if you do it every day because it becomes a habit, but once you make it to like 3 days without it gets easier.

probablythe worst part about starting a t-break is being unable to sleep since the THC was the thing putting you to sleep. i have CBD (no THC) gummies to relax me and if worse comes to worst and i still can’t sleep i have hydroxyzine. i look forward to my crazy vivid dreams

things i noticed even when im sober i’m slightly concerned about that i want to return to normal:

my eyes become fixed on one spot, which is normal when youre high, but i noticed this tendency for me to stare and lose visual focus even when not high

very slightly blurrier vision, harder to read far away text

executive dysfunction & task switching ability is worse. my dopamine levels are probably so fucked up LOL. doing anything feels like “ok patrick, now put it on the lid. the lid. the lid. the lid.”. my reddit homepage is the worst offender for this because im always interested in the threads on my homepage and i get sucked into it even when i initially opened the app for another reason.

low energy.. but that’s also normal for me. i just want to be able to do more stuff without getting mentally fatigued because i’m not instantly good at something

my eyes predictably start feeling heavy at 2pm and i wanna take a nap, but then the tired wave passes by the evening? this fits with our normal circadian rhythm but the sleepiness feels exacerbated

i noticed slower retrieval of terms from my memory. i want to speed this back up.

[a-little-revolution]

Hello Elliot!

I'm making a comic and one of the characters is a little person, and her husband is not. I want to design their house in a way that will work for both of them, where they can both do everything they need.

Things I'm already planning:

Their home will be single story/one floor so there are no stairs.

An extra cabinet in the kitchen for more plates/bowls/etc. that she can access easily.

A separate area in the kitchen with lower countertops.

Lots of step stools/mini stairs with wheels that she can move around in order to access countertops.

Lots of reaching tools for things like light switches and door handles.

Her own closet/wardrobe that's built to her height.

A bathroom with a normal shower for her husband and one of those accessible walk in tubs for her (like the ones with the doors that swing open and seats for you to sit down).

A second bathroom sink area that's her height, along with towel bars and cabinets at her level.

Do you have any other suggestions, or links to resources or examples of homes that have been designed to be accessible for people with very different heights?

Thank you! <3

Hello! These are all wonderful! My family, friends, and now partner are all average height so my household accommodations have always kept that in mind. You've thought of nearly everything! Here's my additions:

A dual shower head (with possibly a bar and a seat) can also be an option in the bathroom rather than a separate bath

In my household we use the higher shelves for my partners' things or for stuff I don't use often/without him. For instance, the coffee can be up high since he's who makes it in the morning - along with extra appliance parts, his waffle maker, backup pantry items, etc.

Spatially, something else to consider for your Little partner is their pain needs. I for instance, have stations throughout the house (bathroom, bed side table, living room couch table) where I keep things like water, meds, stim toys, CBD, etc. Chronic/arthritic pain is common for little people, and there will be evidence of that in their space.

Note that adaptations are often income-based. You've described my ideal living space! But with my financial and living situation (on ODSP and renting), making permanent adjustments to my home is not feasible. My personal counter was made from scrap wood by a friend of mine. Most of my stools were gifts from my mother. Very little of my house is actually adjusted, just worked around - and this is the reality for lots of disabled folk. Of course this may not be the case for your character! Just keep in mind that classism touches everything!

I love what you've included! What a lovely interabled household!

-Elliot (they/them)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i asked my friend to stop talking about cigarettes and nicotine related things with me? (cw for lots of talk ab smoking and cancer)

i (18ftm) have a friend in my psychology class (18f) who smokes cigarettes frequently and has been talking about considering switching to vapes.

for some backstory, my father passed away around two years ago now from lung cancer and complications, brought on by smoking cigarettes. he was undergoing chemo and radiotherapy, also self-medicating with CBD tablets to help with the pain.

i’m only just registering this part of my life now and have not really gone to therapists or councillors as i didn’t need it until now, but i recently got an appointment for this along with a referral for potential OCD and health anxiety that may or may not have been caused because of my dad’s smoking and illness.

i go to a uk college in the countryside so there are naturally a lot of kids who smoke both weed and nicotine, and a lot who vape.the issue here is that ive found the smell of cigarettes sends me into an anxious state and makes me feel sick/nauseous. the smell of weed is fine usually for me.

i hate to say it but i do not like smokers. if you’ve been doing it for a while, there’s no point in asking ‘does it smell like i’ve gone for a smoke?’ the answer is always yes, it sticks even through deodorant and perfume and stains your teeth and nails, it smells to the people around you and don’t even get me started on second hand smoking.

the friend i’m talking about is in my psych class and smokes very frequently to the point i can smell it on her whenever we meet up. this wouldn’t be an issue in itself as i am trying my best to ignore it and learn to deal with the anxious shakes i get around her, but the issue is that she constantly brings cigarettes and smoking up.

i’ve asked her not to smoke around me if possible and if she needs one i will gladly leave or wait for her in another spot . however when she doesn’t have a smoke or can’t have one for whatever reason she’ll still talk about how she gets cigarettes, how her mum feels about them, how her brother smokes, how she wants one really bad. she’s now switched to talking about how she wants to switch to vapes, which again i still don’t appreciate because it’s still talking about nic to me.

she’s ignored this multiple times despite knowing about my father’s issues. or she’ll talk about it for a long time then go ‘oh sorry, about your dad, i should stop talking about this’. it’s not a big big thing as we only hang out from time to time (mostly on a walk to the bus stop every monday afternoon).

i feel like i’d then be being a dick for saying that i’d appreciate her stopping talking about it while i’ve already asked her to not smoke around me. wibta?

What are these acronyms?

[priteva-blog]

Investing in Deception: How Friendship, Love, and Ambition Fueled a $150,000 Scam

It was the spring of 2019 when my long-time friend, *Lauryn, came to me with a business opportunity. Lauryn and I had been close for over 15 years, our bond forged in the trenches of grad school and solidified by shared life experiences. When she pitched her idea to me, I didn’t hesitate to listen. She was more than a friend — she was my sister, and I was eager to see her succeed.

Lauryn had been through a lot. Two years earlier, she lost her husband, becoming a single mother to two young children at just 39. As a widow, she faced challenges that would have broken many, but Lauryn was resilient. She was rebuilding her life, and I was invested in her success. That’s why, when she approached me about reviving her wellness business, I was all in.

Lauryn was no novice in the health and wellness industry. She had owned a natural body care line, taught fitness classes, and dreamed of opening her own wellness center. She was knowledgeable, passionate, and ready to take her business to the next level. So, when she met Zacharia Ali — a financier, businessman, and investor — at our local LA Fitness, she believed it was a divine connection.

All Smoke and Mirrors

Zac was everything Lauryn needed at that moment — a businessman with a wealth of experience, or so it seemed. He offered her intimacy, mentorship, and guidance. Lauryn fell for him, both as a romantic partner and mentor. Zac carried himself with an air of authority, his words laced with the promise of success and prosperity. He spoke of his business accolades and widespread connections. He informed her that he was divorced, had sadly lost a child in a car accident, and had moved to the area for a fresh start. He was a practicing Muslim from a prominent family in Philadelphia. He was well-connected and had successfully launched many companies, and now he wanted to do the same for Lauryn.

The First Red Flag: Trust, but Verify

When Lauryn introduced me to Zac, I was initially impressed. He spoke with authority about entrepreneurship, investing, and the importance of ownership in the Black community. He even attended my birthday party, where we discussed his ventures in South America, the Middle East, and the African diaspora. Over time, Zac and I exchanged messages about business opportunities, and he seemed genuinely invested in our shared goals.

Zac became more than just Lauryn’s romantic partner and mentor; he became a central figure in our budding business venture. He offered to use his extensive network to help Lauryn relaunch her brand, promising to turn it into an international success. The plan was ambitious but enticing: we would create a line of CBD-infused skincare products, tapping into the booming wellness market. I was hesitant but hopeful. Lauryn’s trust in him reassured me. In hindsight, I should have let Lauryn and Zac work together without getting involved.

Despite my initial reservations, I convinced myself that Zac’s impressive background and Lauryn’s enthusiasm were enough to move forward. I researched Zac’s company, Zar Capital, and found nothing alarming — just websites and social media endorsements that aligned with his stories. But I ignored the small voice inside that urged caution.

The Second Red Flag: If It Sounds Too Good to Be True, It Probably Is

Despite my initial excitement, a nagging voice in the back of my mind urged caution. I researched Zac and his company, Zar Capital. His online presence seemed legitimate — impressive even. His website detailed his supposed business ventures in South America, the Middle East, and across the African diaspora. But beyond the polished surface, something felt off.

Still, Lauryn was convinced. Zac had become her rock, helping her navigate the complexities of business and life after loss. She believed in him, and because I believed in her, I put my doubts aside. Under Zac’s guidance, we formed a business partnership: Lauryn would hold 50% of the company, Zac 30%, and I would take a 20% stake. It seemed like a fair arrangement, and over the next few months, Lauryn and I made substantial investments via wire transfer, totaling $110,000. We were instructed to send the money to a Navy Federal account for GC Worldwide under the umbrella of Zac’s businesses, CBD Switch Holding Corp and Zar Capital.

Another Red Flag: All New Opportunities Are Not Good Opportunities — The Moringa Mirage

As if the CBD venture wasn’t enough, Zac presented me with another investment opportunity: a business centered around the Moringa plant in Ethiopia. He pitched it as low-risk, with the potential for high returns and the added appeal of supporting Black businesses in Africa. He presented me with diagrams, mocks, financials, a business plan, and extensive research. I invested $40,000, and we formed a company called the Moringa Cartel. Through documented email presentations, Zac promised to establish operations in Ghana, help with the business plan, and set up the website. I was excited about the prospects, but the excitement was short-lived.

Trust Your Gut

Once the money was sent and the paperwork signed, unease set in. I noticed discrepancies, like the fact that our business was registered in Nevada, even though we were all based in the Mid-Atlantic region. I decided to dig deeper, using the state of Nevada’s business portal, Silver Flume. What I found left me reeling: only the company formed between Lauryn, Zac, and me existed as a domestic corporation. My name wasn’t listed anywhere, and neither was Zac’s. Lauryn was the sole officer of the company. As for the Moringa Cartel, it was nothing more than a name reservation that had expired three months after its formation. On paper, my $100,000 investment had vanished into thin air.

“All Skinfolk Ain’t Kinfolk”

The pandemic hit, bringing unforeseen challenges. Despite this, I consistently reached out to Zac for updates. I pleaded with Lauryn to help, assuming her closer relationship with Zac might yield answers. But her relationship with Zac had soured, and she informed me that her new venture with a national television show prevented her from pursuing any legal action for at least a year. I was on my own.

I demanded that Zac dissolve my participation in the business and return my funds. His response was vague, promising to return the money once his partner returned from overseas. But days turned into weeks, and I received nothing but silence. Then, instead of the money, I received a cease-and-desist letter — a blatant attempt to intimidate me. My attorney dismissed it as legally invalid, but the damage was done. I realized too late that I should have involved legal counsel from the start.

Desperate, I contacted the Prince George’s County Financial Crimes Division and met with a detective. Lauryn accompanied me, providing proof of her own financial losses. The detective initially suspected she and Zac were working together to scam me, but her evidence showed otherwise. Still, the State’s Attorney’s office couldn’t help; our losses, though significant to us, didn’t meet the threshold for prosecution.

The Aftermath

The full scope of Zac’s betrayal came to light when I discovered another woman who had fallen victim to his schemes. Through social media, I connected with a young lady on Facebook who had also been scammed by Zac. Her story mirrored Lauryn’s — she, too, had trusted him, invested in his ventures, and been left with nothing but broken promises. She had been physically and romantically involved. The end result was a broken heart and $60,000 poorer. Her story was both devastating and validating. We were not alone, but that did little to ease the pain.

In total, I had invested $100,000 — $60,000 in the CBD skincare line and $40,000 in the Moringa Cartel. But the financial loss was just one part of the devastation. The betrayal cut deeper. Lauryn, the sister I had trusted implicitly, had unknowingly led me into the arms of a predator. Zac had exploited her vulnerability, using our friendship as a tool to manipulate and deceive.

I was left with nothing — no money, no business, and no means of contacting Zac. Emails bounced back, texts went unread, and calls went straight to voicemail. I had been swindled out of $100,000, and there was no way to recover it. Heartbroken, Lauryn had lost $50,000 and wanted nothing more to do with the situation.

Lessons Learned

Looking back, the signs were there. But I ignored them, blinded by the desire to support a friend in need and the allure of a promising business opportunity. I’ve since learned the hard way that when something seems too good to be true, it usually is. In the end, I had to come to terms with the trauma of losing everything because I let my desire to help a friend cloud my judgment. I was emotionally invested in Lauryn’s well-being, but I failed to do my due diligence on Zac. I trusted blindly and paid a heavy price.

Conclusion

In the end, the story isn’t just about a lost investment or a failed business venture. It’s about the importance of critical thinking, the danger of blind loyalty, and the painful reality that not everyone who enters your life has good intentions. I was betrayed by a man I barely knew, but also by my own willingness to believe in the impossible.

Let this be a reminder: Protect your dreams but protect your heart and your wallet even more. This experience has left me scarred, but it has also made me wiser. I share this story not to shame myself or Lauryn, but to warn others. In the world of business, and in life, there are those who will prey on your goodwill and ambition. The best defense is vigilance — ask questions, trust your instincts, and never let excitement cloud your judgment.

[armyflags]

did I tell you I tried weed for the first time? It did nothing. I’m cisADHD and found out some fuck ass chemical in my brain makes it not work. All it did was make my eyes big.

try edibles or bongs

if that doesnt work switch to heroin

( all honesty try sativa or like 20% cbd , if youre on medication for adhd that could possibly dull the high so try smoking when your meds wear off 👍 )

[paingoes]

i switched to this weird cbd drink instead of coffee and its actually doing a lot for my anxiety/agitation and i was warned multiple times that my caffeine intake was going to fuck me up physically but. lol. i didnt listen.

the cashier at my cornerstore was making fun of me like “why are you buying cold brew at 9pm”. …..bitch just ring it up.

[misterspectacular]

Migraine Causes and Solutions

I get migraines pretty frequently, figured I'd help list some things that help me when I have them, and also that make me less likely to get them.

My migraines almost always stem from my jaw/neck. I should mention I have TMJ and poor posture (slouch).

I noticed I'm more likely to get migraines if I:

Chew gum

Bite my nails for a long period of time

Grind my teeth/clench my jaw

Sit at a desk or table to draw/go on laptop - 1, because I am looking down at whatever is on my desk. 2, resting my elbows on the desk is murder on my shoulders -- shoulders connect to neck, neck connects to head. I switched to either standing or doing it on my bed. Helps a lot!

Sleep with a pillow either too thin or too thick. It puts the neck out of shape. Sleeping on stomach at all causes neck pain, try not to.

Jumping for a long period of time. I went to a trampoline place once, I came out in so much pain. It's a good way to put your neck out

So those are some causes, now for solutions:

This is a relatively new solution I figured out. But when I have a migraine, I ALWAYS have knots behind and below my ears, right where my jaw ends. Massage the area. I press my thumbs in and slide them down.

The obvious one -- pain killers. Take them with a lot of water so you dont dehydrate. Dehydration doesnt help the pain. And take them after eating if you can, to prevent too much damage to stomach lining. If you feel too sick to eat, have something like milk.

If you can't take pain killers, have an alternative, like cbd oil. Something that'll loosen you up.

Massage your shoulders, or have someone massage them for you. Drink a lot of water afterwards.

Take a shower. Showers always help me. Being under the water is relieving, due to the heat and/or just the sensation of water running to distract from the pain.

Heating pad to neck. If the heating pad doesn't help, switch to an ice pack. See which feels better.

Try to sleep if you can manage too.

[angelicbrats]

I’m alright. Mulling over the fact that you really just baited me- but that’s not important. What’s important is that you can do better than saying it was just loud. Just good. How did it feel? What was loud about it? Your gasps? Your whines? Your moans? Who did you think about? What did you think about? Did you tease yourself? How were you spread? How long did it take you to cum? Did you let yourself cum the first time you felt it build to a breaking point? Was there only one? I want to know everything. Well, everything you can tell me.

Also, counter question. How are you? Staying hydrated? Have you eaten? Tell me about it.

-💼

i am pretty good at baiting. you’re right, i can do better. but what if i wanted you to ask? beg to know the details of me pleasuring myself, thinking about your little fantasy’s? hmm maybe that’s what i wanted.

it felt intoxicating. mixed some some cbd and thc hmmm felt even better. my favourite toy pressed against both my clit and my gspot. what was loud about it huh? the way my breath gasped when the toy switches to another mode of vibrating. the whining when the pattern im using dips way to low to feel good. the moans of pleasure and need as i imagine that screen over and over again, with alternative endings and new twists hmm. the whimpers when i get close and have to scramble for my phone. pausing it. well i already clued you in that question.. your asks. you. wondering about all these beautiful scenes in my mind. of course i teased myself. i love to cum but the build up has to be delicious. i added a few things. my clamps. hmmm. gently tugging on them, imagining it was someone else tugging them. hands grasping my thighs, struggling to keep myself still and focused. i like to change positions often. started on my back, hips raising off the bed as i try and feel more and more. then, it’s always fun to change and move. my favourite lately, face down ass up, yummy. no no, i definitely didn’t let myself cum the first time. i said it before, i love to cum but i know its better with some edges before hand. build up the desperation. 5/6 times atleast. i can’t remember too well hmm. then, oh. then i didn’t scramble to turn off the toy. i let it go, max, no longer patient for the hour long pattern to get to a max position. a loud, long, beautiful orgasm. pushing my arch up, wiggling hips. whining, whimpering, moaning. and, just for fun, add some overstim in the end for the most perfect ending. yummy yummy. enough details for you huh?

<3

good! mhm! hydrated, had some soup for dinner just now and having a snack a little later. i made cookies! just sugar cookies from the shops but.