#gamepark

[zombilenium]

zombilenium.tumblr.com

[lovelyhomeskenya]

Langata, very affordable 2 bedroom apartment to let Separate bathroom and toilet, balcony, borehole.....kshs 27k , 1 deposit....0726378384 #langata #langatard #carnivores #1824 #naivasmall #nationalpark #gamepark #safariwalk #wilsonairport #schoolofflying #sunshineacademy #brairose#whitestaracademy #shreecutchi#talenracademy#langatamall#langatahospital #stmaryshospital https://www.instagram.com/p/Crq6f2WoEvD/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[quinnno1akanedefender]

this image makes me feel sick to my core. the way he literally watches the gamepark with curiosity wondering what it’d be like to be a normal kid who had a normal life instead of being an exorcist. why teru acts so childish is because he never got to live his childhood ever and it was practically ripped away from him since he was eight.

he literally states “this is my FIRST day off, because of the severance” in chapter 72, which is why he immediately rushed to the arcade excitedly and won a lot of toys. even nene/akane didn’t understand his excitement. he is still a child at his core. this is the reason he doesn’t massively push tiara towards exorcism. he wants her to live a happy childhood, the one that he never got to live.

im tired of people mischaracterizing teru, it’s horrible.

[fairycosmos]

Omg go see a deer they are aromatic and soo pretty, pretty sure there are gameparks in uk where you can go see them

P.S. i meant to type around instead of aromatic but I liked that too and it is also true

i want to so bad!! never thought of going to a park to see one but that's a great idea <3 i was always just mourning that none of them are in my area lmfao. aromatic and soo pretty.....literally incredibly real.....just look at her....that's exactly how you should describe her <3

[leftistfeminista]

Petition to stop a Pinochet ‘death flight’ helicopter that became UK gamepark prop

They are making a milsim game out of a horrific method of murder of leftists, and perhaps even more sadistic, the torture of leftist women. Below is a testimony of what a survivor endured-

The brutal contrast between the fate of my male comrades and my own is a jagged pill to swallow. Each time I'm forced to endure the crude spectacle of the helicopter rides, the parading of my nearly nude body above the cityscape for prying eyes to consume, a piece of my dignity withers away.

Pinochet's tactics, as cruel as they are ingenious, serve not only to humiliate but also to disorient. By using the lives of female Comunista as a source of pleasure, of spectacle, they effectively weaponize our gender. We are stripped of our ideological armor, reduced to the level of objects to be used and displayed.

And the worst part? The guilt gnawing away at my insides, that I live while my brothers are tossed away like unwanted debris. The survivors' guilt is a constant companion, a bitter reminder of the high price of my existence. I'm watching helplessly as my male friends are tossed off the side and killed. As they all get thrown away one by one I expect that I'm next, but instead they end up hanging me from the helicopter half-naked until I'm sick, humiliating and torturing me even more. Dropped into the sea, I felt the breath snatched from my lungs, replaced by the icy grip of the abyss. The promise of death's sweet release would dance before my eyes, only to be cruelly ripped away as the bungee cord yanked me back into the bitter air. Each drop was a betrayal, each rise a violation of the natural order of life and death.

On the surface, being spared from death might seem like a gift, but in reality, it's a torment of its own kind. We're left to grapple with the guilt, the shame, and the knowledge that our bodies have been used as tools in this twisted war. It's a living death, a constant battle against the rising tide of despair and self-loathing. Grief for my lost comrades swelled in my heart, a tempest trapped within the confines of my chest. They had been torn from life, while I, in all my femininity, was denied the purity of that sacrifice. I was made to live, not as a martyr, but a trophy, a testament to our worst enemies' lust and depravity.

How do I feel? Betrayed, used, humiliated. Yet, paradoxically, there's a perverse form of empowerment in it too. In being reduced to nothing more than our bodies, we've been given a weapon, albeit a cruel one. Our captors may rule our bodies, but our minds remain our own. They may have claimed our dignity, but they cannot touch our spirit.

Every catcall from the crowd below, every lustful gaze from our guards, is a burning coal added to the fire of my resistance. It may be a different form of warfare, one fought not with guns and ideologies, but with body and will, yet it is a battle nonetheless. And I refuse to be defeated.

The sharp dichotomy between the freedom of the helicopter rides and the confinement of the junta’s pleasure is a mockery of our struggle. And yet, in this mockery, I find a renewed sense of purpose. I may be a spectacle, a plaything, but I am also a symbol. I'm a stark reminder of Pinochet's brutality, a living testament to his regime's degradation.

Each ride is a torture, each leering gaze a violation. But each also strengthens my resolve to resist, to endure, and to fight back. For every female Comunista paraded over the city in nothing but a thong, there's a spirit that refuses to be broken, a heart that continues to beat in defiance.

As I hang above the city, my body on display for all to see, I draw upon the deepest reservoirs of my strength. I endure the gawking crowds, the lecherous guards, and the demeaning spectacle because I must. Because my spirit demands it. Because I am a woman. A woman of passion, a woman of resistance.

Above all, I am a Comunista. And no matter what they do to my body, they cannot touch my soul. For my soul is mine, and it flies free, even as my body is bound and paraded. It soars above the city, above the pain, and above the pleasure, a beacon of defiance against the Like a puppet on a string, I'm flung over the city, a grotesque spectacle of Pinochet's ruthless regime. The biting wind cuts through my scant attire, each gust an icy dagger sinking into my exposed skin. My body becomes an unwilling canvas, painted with the cruel strokes of shame and humiliation under the leering eyes of the spectators below.

The hum of the helicopter rotors blends with the cacophony of my heartbeat, drumming a rhythm of dread and despair. My pulse is a wild thing, thumping against the cage of my ribs, desperate to escape the horror of my situation. The cityscape below blurs into a dizzying tableau of my impending doom, its towering structures mocking my helpless predicament.

I feel the mocking stares of the spectators piercing through the whirl of wind and noise. Their laughter is a bitter wind that chills my spirit even as the terror burns like a wildfire in my veins. It's a perverse carnival, my dangling body the star attraction, and my fear, the intoxicating scent that feeds their twisted entertainment.

Yet, beneath the layers of terror and humiliation, a defiant ember flickers in my soul. Every icy gust of wind, every mocking laughter only serves to fan its flames. They may have bound my body, stripped me of my dignity, but they cannot quench my spirit. It burns brighter with each passing moment, an unyielding beacon amidst the chilling winds of my plight.

The sight of the city sprawling beneath me is a grotesque mirror of my torment. Like me, it hangs in a precarious balance between its past and its present, between the ideals it once held dear and the reality it now endures. I feel a perverse kinship with it, a shared understanding of humiliation and defiance. It's a bond forged in the crucible of our shared suffering, unbreakable as the spirit that continues to fuel our resistance.

The stark contrast of my fate to that of my fallen comrades doesn't escape me. The male comrades were dropped to their death, their defiance silenced in the blink of an eye. But we, the female Comunista, we're forced to endure a far more insidious fate. We're not just silenced, we're used, paraded, and reduced to mere objects of pleasure and mockery.

Yet, each terrifying moment suspended above the city, each jeer that reaches my ears above the roar of the wind and rotors, renews my commitment to the cause we'd all pledged our lives to. They may have tethered me to a bungee cord, but they cannot tether my spirit. It's a wild thing, untamed by fear, undaunted by humiliation.

My fear, raw and tangible as the biting wind against my skin, becomes a fuel for my resolve. Each pulse of terror that courses through me transforms into a battle cry, an affirmation of my indomitable will. I may be Pinochet's spectacle, his object of amusement, but I am, first and foremost, a Comunista. And no amount of fear, no degree of humiliation can extinguish the flame of resistance burning in my soul.

As the city flies past beneath me, and the wind bites into my flesh, I close my eyes. I embrace the fear, the shame, the guilt. I allow them to wash over me, to seep into my bones. For it's in these moments of abject terror and humiliation, that I find my greatest strength. I am more than the object of their derision. I am a symbol of defiance, of undying spirit. I am a Comunista. And I will not be broken. The dread was choking, consuming me from within as I watched my comrades - men I'd once proudly stood shoulder to shoulder with in defiance of Pinochet's regime - plummet one by one from the helicopter. Each fall was an echo of a silenced voice, a splash of horror in the ocean of my mounting terror.

Then, they unceremoniously shoved me towards the edge. My heartbeat pounded a furious drum roll in my ears, the clamor of my impending doom. I braced myself, ready to meet the end with the steel resolve of a Comunista. Yet, as I plummeted, the expected icy hand of death did not come. Instead, the bungee cord tethered around my ankles yanked me back, launching me on a dreadful pendulum swing between life and death.

Suddenly, I was an unwilling marionette in Pinochet's macabre puppet show, left dangling and twirling under the disapproving gaze of the sky and the leering eyes of the city. My humiliation was painted on the vast canvas of the heavens, a spectacle for all to gawk at. The wind, once my ally in the freedom chants on the streets, now turned a bitter foe, nipping and tearing at my exposed skin with icy teeth.

My world became a whirlwind of chaos and confusion, turning end over end in a dizzying dance of fear and degradation. The city, once a symbol of our struggle, now distorted and morphed into a mocking audience, drinking in the sight of my plight. The wind carried their jeers and laughs, each one a piercing arrow, sinking into the soft underbelly of my dignity.

The sky turned a theater, the city a captive audience, and I the reluctant star, yet with every jeer, every gawk, every gust of wind against my skin, my resolve only hardened. For each moment of humiliation was a testament to my spirit, a testament to my fight. The sight of my male comrades' end was a chilling reminder of the stakes. I was alive, albeit in a nightmare, and that meant I still had a chance to fight.

[archoneddzs15]

Sega Saturn - Princess Maker 2

Title: Princess Maker 2 / プリンセスメーカー２

Developer: Gainax

Publisher: Micro Cabin

Release date: 27 October 1995

Catalogue No.: T-5201G

Genre: Life Simulation

I have yet to play this one for more than 20 minutes and probably feel very unlikely to play it again in the future. Being a port of a Gainax "raise your daughter" simulation it is a pretty okay game, as it allows you to raise your daughter how you see fit (don't go too far to make her into a... whatever) but the main problem is that some of the textures don't look as sharp as they should result in a loss of detail.

The BGM for some reason also seems dull compared to the BGM from the PC Engine Arcade Card CD version. Overall, this is ok but maybe you'd be better off looking at one of the other games in this genre first. This was also ported to the GamePark GP32 handheld in South Korea.

What I can tell you from paying both this, the PC Engine Arcade Card CD and the 3DO versions is that this seems to be a copy-paste from the 3DO game.

[xmandre-dimple-family]

This Kid's BALLER MOVE🎯🥇⛹🏻‍♀️Will Leave You SPEECHLESS! | EPIC Park Day ...

This Kid's BALLER MOVE🎯🥇⛹🏻‍♀️Will Leave You SPEECHLESS! | EPIC Park Day Fun! #shorts #gamepark #fun

[allyouknowisalie]

robert-hadley:

A FLEMISH VERDURE GAMEPARK TAPESTRY, LATE 16TH/EARLY 17TH CENTURY

Source: christie’s.com

[karibukwetuzanzibar1]

Discover Guide to the Best Places to Go in Zanzibar

Welcome to Zanzibar, a tropical paradise where the azure waters meet pristine beaches, and the rich cultural tapestry weaves tales of history and natural beauty. In this guide, we invite you to embark on a journey of discovery, curated by Karibukwetu Zanzibar, to explore the best places that make this island a jewel in the Indian Ocean.

[joywaiganjo]

Have you ever thought of visiting Kenya?

Kenya is one of the country in Africa known for its beautiful beaches, gameparks and natural reserves.

The warm weather and sunkiss beaches will make you enjoy your holiday along our coast.

Watamu is known for having best beaches with beautiful island in the ocean,

Why don't you try this magnificent place and enjoy your stay joyvilla and a reasonable rate that will make your holiday easy.

Email me on : njokij0000@gmail.com

[never-obsolete]

GMR Magazine - February 2003

[lovelyhomeskenya]

Spacious 4 bedroom bungalow to let langata - Best suited for commercial use - free to put containers or build for extra space - not ensuite but separate bathroom and toilet - living room opens to backyard garden - foyer that can be used as reception area / desk - secure - the unit can do any business Rent kshs 85k Contact 0726378384 #langata #langatard #carnivores #1824 #naivasmall #nationalpark #gamepark #safariwalk #wilsonairport #schoolofflying #sunshineacademy #brairose#whitestaracademy #shreecutchi#talenracademy#langatamall#langatahospital #stmaryshospital https://www.instagram.com/p/Crq6RX7o_A3/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[iheartafricaproject]

I Heart Africa Project Podcast - Episode #7: Shane Ross

I Heart Africa Project Podcast – Episode #7: Shane Ross

Busting Myths and Misconceptions of traveling in Southern and East Africa Shane Ross is an avid African traveler, who first stepped foot on the continent with a one-way ticket in 2015. He spent time outside of Cape Town where he underwent guide training, then took to traveling solo around Africa for two years, for the most part, in little red, a bright red, Suzuki Samurai.It was during this time…

[nazmiyalantiquerugs]

Welcome to the Game park and u are invited. Tree of life with elephants, antelopes ,birds, rabbits, lions and deers are all there. . . . . . #animalrug #gamepark #agra #agrarugs #antiquerugs #antiqueindianrugs #elephants #antelopes #birds #rabbits #lions #deer #treeoflife #animalkingdom #vintagerugs #bestrugs #home #homedecor #interiors #interiordesigners #nazmiyalcollection

[inflatableartworld]

Customized jumping bouncer on water or ground! 3~5m diameter and color as your required. #jumper #kidsbouncer #waterparkday #gamepark #inflatablebounce #partycenter #kidshealth #growingup #funparty https://www.instagram.com/p/Cbwv2-gLLF_/?utm_medium=tumblr

[xmandre-dimple-family]

Family Friendly Fun Day! Play Games & Win BIG Jackpot in Philippines (At...

Family Friendly Fun Day! Play Games & Win BIG Jackpot in Philippines (At Least We Hope!) #gamepark