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wikifoxnews · 2 years

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Who was Jolissa Fuentes ( Body of missing California woman found after 2-month search ) Wiki, Bio, Age, Crime, Arrest, Incident Details, Investigations and More Facts

Jolissa Fuentes Biography Jolissa Fuentes Wiki

Authorities confirmed Tuesday that the body of the missing Californian Jolissa Fuentes has been found.

In a press conference Tuesday morning, officials from the Fresno County Sheriff's Office and the Selma Police Department announced that the Jolissa Fuentes body was found in a rural area of Fresno County north of Pine Flat Lake. Officials said the discovery came after Selma Police Chief Rudy Alcaraz found evidence that Fuentes's car had rolled off the road in the Trimmer Springs area and onto Maxon Road near Pine Flat Lake. #BREAKING: Authorities said they found Jolissa Fuentes crashed car north of Pine Flat over the edge of a cliff down to the lake, 60 miles east from Fresno. https://t.co/e6xVgTb3wX — ABC30 Fresno (@ABC30) October 11, 2022 “He personally found the scene of the accident. Yesterday he went to the mountains alone. She searched areas that had already been searched and found the crash site, "Fresno County Sheriff Margaret Mims of Chief Alcaraz said. Chief Alcaraz alerted the sheriff's office and on Monday night search and rescue teams abseiled more than 400 feet from a cliff to recover Fuentes' body.

Investigation

The cause of the accident is still under investigation, but officials said they believe Fuentes was most likely tired, having been up all night. The rural area of Pine Flat Lake had previously been raided by law enforcement, but Chief Alcaraz said it was difficult for crews to sift through the dense undergrowth and trees along the cliff where Fuentes was found. "The search and rescue workers were 200 feet deep and we couldn't even see them, not even with their flashlights," Chief Alcaraz recalled. Fuentes' family members, including her parents, Norma Nunez and Joey Fuentes, stood alongside law enforcement when news of the discovery of Jolissa's body broke. "The first time this happened to my daughter, I talked to the boss Alcaraz, I said man to man, 'I'm talking to you. Do you have a daughter? Do you have children?' Said Joey, holding back the tears. said, 'Yeah, I'm doing Joey.' I say, "I want you to chase my daughter like she's your daughter, boss." "I promise you, Joey, I promise you. I'll find your daughter." Joey also took a moment at the press conference to thank those around the country who had joined in looking for his daughter. “I want to thank the community, not just the community, the whole nation. The screams and pain of my wife, my sisters and my family could be heard all over the country,” Joey said. Investigators have been looking for Fuentes for two months since she was reported missing on Sunday, August 8. Fuentes was last seen at 4am on August 7 as he walked away from a morning and afternoon shop at an Arco gas station near Nebraska and the Highlands. Viale Selma Selma police investigators had issued a search warrant for cell phone recordings the day Fuentes disappeared. For the past two months, officers have been reviewing data found during the search warrant, but there has been very little telephone activity since August 8. California Highway Patrol agents will work to retrieve Fuentes' car from the cliff. Read the full article

#Californian #FresnoCounty #investigation #JOLISSAFUENTES #Missing #PINEFLATLAKE #RUDYALCARAZ

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zaneaonc287 · 2 years

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Best Straight Razor Kit 2022 - The Perfect Introduction - Canada Straight Razor

You likewise get a convenient illuminated countdown when your cut gets on its last nine minutes of power. Bevel's weighted safety razor makes it very easy to make the change without shredding your neck. "It has oiled skin guards that aid secure the skin," Reyes clarifies. Women's razors are created for people cutting legs, armpits, and also pubic locations.

Gillette's Heated Razor transforms cozy barbershop cut right into an at-home undertaking with chargeable, heatable cartridges that soften hair while it cuts.

You require to be a little bit a lot more mindful with a security razor, so it's mosting likely to take a bit longer to cut; you likewise require to dedicate time to finding out proper technique.

On the other hand, aluminum foil shavers will certainly give you a closer shave and are gentler on skin.

The Braun Series 9 functions a smart auto-sensing electric motor operating at 10,000 microvibrations to aid you record more hair in one stroke, also if your beard is thick and also long.

An extremely practical version, it currently has a trimmer which was absent on older models. Panasonic claim they've created this electric razor "based upon the art of Japanese Samurai sword-making custom." It flaunts steel internal blades "nano-sharpened to just 30 degrees" with 70,000 cross-cutting activities per min. It definitely looks the part and it has a multi-flex 16 direction head - which slides, spins and also moves up, down and also round to comply with the contours of your face. A three-blade system with an aloe as well as vitamin E lubricating strip, the Extreme 3 Sensitive's one-of-a-kind selling point is that the blades are adaptable, which when added to the rotating head brings about a remarkably close cut.

Cutting Razor

Disposables are of an off-shoot of the cartridge razor, except you toss the entire thing away when the blades are blunt, not just the head. When preferred, the extremely unfavorable effect of plastic air pollution now has individuals thinking twice. And also, in our experience, disposables deliver the lowest feasible top quality of shave and the highest possible chance of nicks and also skin irritability. As one of the most rudimentary little bits of males's brushing set, a good razor should not cost the planet. What you're spending for is a high quality manage with a well-judged grip as well as equilibrium and a collection of blades that'll easily cut through your stubble. All of the blades featured below pass these examinations without leaving a big hole in your pocket.

Best Safety Razors That Will Assist You Employer Your Grooming Regimen

That said, there's no lack of variation when it pertains to razor layout, and also it's absolutely not one-size-fits-all. If you think the benefit of snugly packed blades surpasses the drawback of a smaller sized head when cutting your legs, by all old style razor means, go with a "men's" razor. Although it varies a little bit by razor brand and model, the majority of electric razor blades ought to be replaced concerning every one year. Men with thicker or coarser hair may need to replace blades more often. It rests easily in the hand, is 100 percent waterproof and has a charge that lasts 60 mins.

youtube

Regrettably, adding a seventh blade resembles including a 7th ring of hell. Though this may not inevitably impact what the razor does to your face, the Combination suffers from what can only be referred to as shaving's most useless family tree. It is virtually impossible to find out precisely what Gillette's existing Blend line includes-- there are 7 different Fusion handles as well as four various Combination cartridges, giving you as well as your face 28 feasible combinations.

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Both Joey Tasca of Brooklyn-based Persons of Rate Of Interest and also Mark Miguez of Pal of a Barber like the razors from British shaving business Edwin Jagger, but this particular one is a standout. The brand-new razor from Leaf integrates a lot of what we enjoy about cartridge razors-- multiple blades, a pivoting head-- as well as incorporates those merits with sharp, inexpensive safety and security blades. A single blade is a lot like a typical safety razor that takes place to pivot, yet pile 3 and also you've got a severe close shave razor-- not for the faint of heart. This is among the more interesting new shaving items in a long time.

The Classic Edge Shaving Store

By appointment only, 23 College Ave, Port Rowan, ON N0E 1M0, Canada

+14165741592

#straight edge razor blades #Youtube

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faintwalker · 3 years

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C’mon, Trimmer, that’s not very Family Fleet of you.

#lookit this little knife gremlin #I draw what I want #boat boys #Rich Merril #Joey Trimmer #After the Storm #I came for the trauma recovery and worldbuilding #I stayed for the trauma recovery worldbuilding and characters #hardest part to read was anything with the marker game but that's just me actually I don't do well with that because of things #murderboat duo #faintwalker's art #doodle

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subscribe-to-darkiplier · 7 years

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DARK DOESN'T SHARE FOOD

Bim: So are you gonna call this one back?

Dark: Haha, nope.

Bim: What are you talking about, Anti's great!

Dark: Oh really, you wanna know what your great friend did?

Out of nowhere...

Bim: That's it?! That's why you won't go out with him again? So he took some fries, big deal.

Dark: Hey, hey look, it's not about a few fries, it's about what the fries represent.

Bim: What?

Dark: ALL FOOD! DARK DOESN'T SHARE FOOD!!

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boatboys · 2 years

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BOAT BOYS TEXT POSTS 5: BOY5 IN BOAT5

(1/2/3/4/5/6/?)

Bonus: Finn Merrill has been dead for four slutty, slutty years and I'm here to retroactively drag him via other peoples' text posts

#After The Storm #Boat Boys #Rich Merrill #Athena Merrill #Angela Merrill #Joey Trimmer #Basil Wright #Michigan Ford #Liam Beaker #Leo Troy #Bella Beaker #Liam's mother and father both being in the same place with him is the worst-case scenario for Liam lmao #EVERYBODY walks away from that one upset lmao #deeply considering doing one of these with like dramatic poetic stuff #But also the funny ones are more fun

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flatstarcarcosa · 5 years

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house/home

Ship: wilson and wilson at large warnings: exploration of trauma and PTSD, references to abuse note: this ended up being similar to the last thing i did, what started out as a simple headcanon exploration turned into an emotionally charged, rambling piece that at one point, turns into a story. it has not been proof read yet.

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slade and i discover pretty quickly after the move to vermont that simply packing my shit and taking care of any lingering obligations in florida i was tied too is not, in fact, the entire solution to my problems.

which of course ties into the larger theme of our whole relationship at this point in that we’re both just constantly attempting to run away from our problems, our pasts, our trauma all while scolding each other and saying it doesn’t work like that.

he finds i don’t get settled right away. or even within a few weeks or months. the vermont house, for all purposes, for the longest of time, is not my house. it is not my home. i quickly default back into the same mindset i have had my entire life, drilled and beaten into me since i was a child that if someone else has paid for it, if someone else has bought it, if someone else has acquired it and is allowing me to use it,

it is not mine. it is theirs.

which of course, that’s not the mindset that slade is coming from. he picked the vermont house because it made the most sense logistically. it was already there, sitting and waiting. filled with belongings he could never fit in elsewhere, filled with dust, filled with ghosts of memories past.

it made sense to use it.

so when we finally arrive, both regretting the initial idea of turning the move into a road trip, my things are waiting in storage containers. two large ones, sitting in the driveway and blocking access to the detached garage.

the house smells of pine and wood and must, having been shuttered up for so long. he comments that he can’t exactly remember the last time he was here, and he opens windows and adjusts the thermostat as he moves through.

everything is decorated in warm colors and wood, brown furniture and carpeting, and old linoleum in the kitchen that has seen better days. it’s distinctly him, and his presence coats everything i touch, as if his absence has meant nothing.

which it probably hasn’t. after all, a house is four walls and a roof and completely unconcerned with the on-goings inside it.

my things get moved in at an easy pace, boxes stacked out of the way in the basement while we try to figure out placement.

slade jokes we’re both going to have to pick and choose on the books; my amount added to his exceeding the capacity. he comments something about adding more bookcases in his study, and he trails off when he mentions something about adeline always wanting that done years ago.

there’s pictures of her in his study. her, and grant, and joey. more pictures of the three of them alone or together than there are of slade with them all. one in particular, that i find by accident stuffed behind a novel about Achilles, specifically has slade’s face cut out of it. i don’t ask. i don’t have to.

over the next few weeks my presence adds to his.

we have a fake argument about the two batman statues i have, me putting them on shelves in the living room only to find them in absurd places the next day. he puts one in the freezer, another in a garbage can.

my small collection of novelty mugs makes it’s way into the kitchen, along of course, with my shot glasses. we decide to donate my coffee maker, as slade’s is bigger and still functional.

at first we come to what seems like the logical conclusion that my bedroom items will go in his room; in the master bedroom. we put my bedframe in the basement, wrap the mattress for now and leave it leaning next to it. my sheet sets go in the closet, i add my pillows to his bed.

my shampoo and my facial cleansers sit next to his in the bathroom, our toothbrushes resting in the holder. my cologne next to his. my clippers in the box under the cabinet, next to a tiered container holding make up. my nail polish nestles next to his beard trimmer.

as the weeks go by, little by little i try to claim the offered spaces as my own.

i wake up one day to find he’s changed the living room furniture, i’m not sure why, and he seems oddly evasive about it. he jokes something about one of the kids throwing a party once, someone leaving nasty stains. he always meant to replace it.

he always meant to do a lot of things, he says.

i realize we’re both being crushed by our own innate guilt, whether rational or not, and that all we’ve done is try to run away from it again.

and of course, it hasn’t worked. it doesn’t work, it will never work, because you cannot run from these things. they are a train, and you cannot outrun a train.

i find myself wide awake one night, the sound of him breathing softly and measured next to me, and i’m staring up in the dark at a still unfamiliar ceiling and i realize that nothing is right,

none of this is right, none of this fits.

i am not, yet, accustomed to this new space. im unused to the noises of the house settling, the noises inside and out of it, and i lay there in the blinding dark desperately searching for something familiar to latch onto before i sink to the bottom

and i find nothing.

even his warm, solid form right next to me isn’t enough to tether me to the present and once again i’m overcome with the unalienable need to run.

he finds me on the back porch hours later, having apparently rolled over and noticed my absence, half a pack of cigarettes butted in the ash tray next to me, another one trailing smoke into the sky from my hand. i am still not calm enough to speak, and knowing that i will have to feels like a vice on my chest.

my mind races to prepare answers, the raging urge of self-preservation steering towards the right answers, and the correct answers, and the answers the other party wants to hear, and it is a habit i never foresee myself breaking.

the entire time i am screaming at myself to stop because it’s not necessary and it is not appropriate. and logically, i know this. my brain acknowledges the commands yet tells me so sorry there’s nothing we can do to stop this, it’s a train after all.

he picks out a cigarette of his own, gently pulling the lighter from between the fingers on my other hand. he sits down on the edge of my seat, to my right of course, always to my right and the side he can see from. he exhales a lungful of smoke and for a few moments, the questions don’t come.

my brain stops misfiring, the synapses all seeming to come to a stop as they compare now to then and finally decide, yes

yes we can stop now.

yes, you were right, now is not the same as then.

a semblance of control returns to my body as he reaches behind me to lean on the back of the chair.

“where’d you go?” he asks, casually, simply. as if that’s the most logical question to ask, as if that makes perfect sense, and i almost want to scream

because it absolutely is.

and yet, even still, “what?” is all i can choke out, and i know my attempt to cover it with a cough from the cigarette is as see through as glass, but i do it anyway.

“you went somewhere,” he says, tapping ash. his fingers trail up my back, coming to rest at the nape of my neck, his thumb rubbing circles against my hairline.

“i...i don’t know,” i say, and i want to cry all over again because of how far away and how small i sound.

“hm,” is all he responds with. he nudges me with a knee, and i slide over and allow him to sit fully. i stub out my cigarette and immediately reach for another one, and he flicks the lighter and doesn’t comment on the chain smoking and for several minutes we say nothing.

i know he’s waiting on me to invite him in. to give a cue, a sign that yes i’m fine now and yes i will be fine and yes i will give you a new list of all my problems and you can find out how to fix them, because that’s what you constantly try to do, because that’s all you know how to do, even to the point of creating problems just so you can solve them.

and i cannot give him that because i know deep, deep within the most choked off parts of myself that there are just things that cannot, will not be fixed.

and they cannot be run from, either.

but they can accommodated. they can be unearthed and they can be tended to and they can be allowed to breathe and perhaps if i stop trying to strangle myself into the submission of others, i could get a foothold in my own mind.

“could you maybe...move my bed and some of my stuff in the basement to one of your spare bedrooms?” i ask, and i hope that the fearfulness i’m feeling at daring to ask for something to be done for my comfort isn’t drowning my words.

he lets out a smoky sigh, tilting his head back and looking up at the stars as he brushes his fingers against my steaming cheek.

“i forgot how much you need a space of your own,” he says. my brain, still partially controlled by ghosts pulling on the strings of trauma, searches desperately for anything in his voice to justify the panic. for the annoyance, the exasperation, the condemnation,

and yet there is nothing to find.

“of course,” he says, “we can clear out one of the spare bedrooms and we can move as much of your stuff into it as you need.”

he stresses all the right words in all the right ways so that it doesn’t come across as sarcastic or demeaning in response to my obvious needs and for a moment i could swear i black out as everything that i’ve fought for so long to snuff out explodes into sparks.

i drop my cigarette at one point, completely unaware i’ve done it as i lean forward and press my head into his chest, fingers coiling into his shirt and he slips an arm around my waist and tugs me closer, leaning me against his hip in what feels like a practiced motion that he’s done hundreds of times.

“i’m sorry,” i say, breathing the words into him.

“that’s fine,” he says. “you’re fine.”

“i know,” i say.

we fall into silence for a while, interrupted only when i hear him sniffing, and for a moment i think is he crying too, now? did i start this? then suddenly he’s swearing, jumping out of the chair and nearly knocking me to the porch, and i’m so startled all i can do is blink like a confused animal as i register the smell of smoldering wood.

“your cigarette is burning a hole in the porch,” he says, stepping away to turn the light on.

and as i watch him go to reflexively grind the cigarette out with his foot, stopping when he realizes he’s not wearing shoes to turn and grab one of my boots from our shoe stand just outside the door, i can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up from my core.

i hear a train whistle in the distance, and i can’t make out if it is a real whistle, or my auditory wiring misfiring, and i don’t care. i’ll ask him tomorrow, if there’s train tracks somewhere nearby, because it settles in the back of my mind that there will be a tomorrow, and a day after, and a day after that, and it wraps around me like a fuzzy jacket.

he offers a hand and i take it, and it slips down to my waist as he leads me back inside.

“you know, you don’t have to try to burn our house down to get my attention,” he says as the door slides shut behind us, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he speaks. i catch sight of the moonlight streaming in behind him, and it imposes on my eyes the sight from what feels like so long ago,

the sun light beaming down on him in a florida parking lot as he looks down to grab for the dog’s leash, a stranger in my home saving my only friend from running head first into traffic while hunting a lone lizard

and i think what are the odds,

that then is, in fact, so similar to now.

#ship: wilson & wilson at large #arc: warm winter sun #van.fic #self shipping #self shipping community

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