Podcasts about awh

Everyone can agree—cannabis operates in a legal gray area. For starters, anyone in the industry is technically breaking federal law, as cannabis remains federally illegal. But for an in-house attorney at an MSO, the job isn't just about navigating federal risk. It's about understanding where gray meets red, balancing state-by-state regulations, and ensuring compliance across an industry with ever-changing rules—especially for a publicly traded company.This week, we sit down with Dan Shapiro, EVP of Ascend Wellness, to break down:Understanding the legal gray areas in cannabisShifting regulations, the Farm Bill, and Schedule 3Balancing legal risk and business strategy in a fragmented industryAbout Ascend WellnessAWH is a vertically integrated multistate cannabis operator with licenses and assets in Illinois, Michigan, Ohio, Massachusetts, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland. AWH owns and operates dispensaries and seven state-of-the-art cultivation facilities, growing award-winning strains and producing a curated selection of products for retail and wholesale customers. AWH produces and distributes its in-house Simply Herb, Ozone, Common Goods, Effin' and Royale branded products. AWH also produces and distributes products on behalf of its brand partners including Miss Grass, Lowell Smokes, Flower by Edie Parker, 1906, and AiroPro. For more information, visit www.awholdings.com.Guest Links:https://www.linkedin.com/in/daniel-shapiro-78830026/https://www.awholdings.com/https://www.linkedin.com/company/ascendwellnessholdingshttps://x.com/AscendHoldingsKey Topics Discussed (AI Generated) ⏱ [00:00 - 03:00] Introduction & Dan Shapiro's BackgroundDan's journey from law school to the cannabis industryHis experience in highly regulated industries like aviation, insurance, and sports⏱ [03:01 - 10:30] The Role of an In-House Attorney at an MSOBalancing legal risk vs. business strategyHow MSOs structure legal teams and complianceThe complexities of managing multiple state regulations⏱ [10:31 - 18:45] Navigating Cannabis's Legal Gray AreaWhy cannabis law lacks case precedent compared to other industriesThe challenge of interpreting regulations that are themselves unclearHow MSOs make decisions with legal uncertainty⏱ [18:46 - 25:30] Federal Illegality & The Risks It PosesThe reality of operating in an industry that is still federally illegalHow rescheduling (Schedule 3) could impact MSOsBanking & financial hurdles in cannabis⏱ [25:31 - 32:15] The Farm Bill & The Hemp vs. Cannabis DebateHow hemp-derived products challenge the traditional cannabis marketThe regulatory gaps between Farm Bill hemp and state-regulated cannabisHow MSOs view hemp expansion⏱ [32:16 - 38:50] State-by-State Regulations & Compliance ChallengesWhy no two states regulate cannabis the same wayHow MSOs strategize around shifting lawsScenario planning for regulatory changes⏱ [38:51 - 45:00] Creative Legal Solutions in CannabisHow MSOs navigate ambiguous rulesBalancing aggressive vs. conservative legal approachesWhy legal teams in cannabis must be flexible⏱ [45:01 - 50:00] Future of Cannabis Law & Final ThoughtsPredictions for Schedule 3 and federal reformWhy the industry needs more alignment for real progressDan's dream smoke session: Thomas Jefferson, Elvis Presley, and Tiger WoodsOur Links:Bryan Fields on TwitterKellan Finney on TwitterThe Dime on TwitterAt Eighth Revolution (8th Rev), we provide services from capital to cannabinoid and everything in between in the cannabinoid industry.8th Revolution Cannabinoid Playbook is an Industry-leading report covering the entire cannabis supply chain The Dime is a top 5% most shared  global podcastThe Dime has a New Website. Shhhh its not finished.The Dime is a top 50 Cannabis PodcastSign up for our playbook here:

She's REAL! I'm telling you she is. Sweetie, I know you have had a lot going on lately, but— I'm serious! She was sitting in the audience! She had the same glasses on and everything! Oh, come on. I should be meditating. The likelyhood that I might actually be belonging into a hive mind has recently kept me from furiously masturbating. Bad news for the helicopter making a habit of hovering outside my window. Here's hoping she's dressed this time! [F-f-f-f] Nope. Synopsis “The child within” A frustrated present day Drew Barrymore sees a familiar face in the audience of her hit daytime tv show—formerly thought of as her imaginary friend, from a very young age, Ms. Drew Barrymore has not seen the mysterious figure since her first major film role, after which she mysteriously disappeared— the creature, a time traveling and shapeshifting multidimentional tasked with the duty of bringing future celebrities from one realm into another—and even sometimes perhaps preventing obstacles or adversaries in their path along the way— must meet the future stars and alert them of their unique qualities, nurturing the intrinsic sense of charisma and charm that will supply value to the subject's career and lifetime achievements— In attempting to convince a room full of New York's own fabrication of Hollywood TV People that a figure drew even thought herself to have supposedly re-emerged, she is met with judgement and dismissal, even by “her people”, during which a small piece of her spirit— “The Child Within” angrily breaks away from her adult self; in a sense, they are both invisible—as no one will seriously listen to Drew's rationalizations or theories, and reccomend more intensive mental health care and treatment—and as the child within, unseen and unheard loses her patience in the inevitable invisibility, she separates herself to presume her former mission; finding that ‘very strange lady' whom with she had beforehand seemingly adventures with timelessly. So that's where I left off. Pretty much— Doesn't this lady just— Whatever, I do have more things to do than I thought. I'll have to get back to it later. I wrote this days ago; I didn't write it—but I've been thinking about it, so there it is. Maybe— Whatever. More coffee. I've been starting my days between 6 and 8 PM with very strong cups of coffee— Compliments of the Television people, of course. What about that other storyline— the one where she's like a spy or something? You mean Charlie's Angeles! No, I mean like actual CIA. What was she even doing? I don't know; looking mad serious in a blazer. Posh. So very, {Enter The Multiverse} NO, BILLIE! WHYYYYYYYY! WHYYYYYYYYYYYY. Cause it's shark week. WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS HAVE TI DO WITH SHARKS?! I Dont know yet. I know better than to Click a photo of you, when I've been thinking of you Too much Aren't you –At least Curious (To say the least, but–( Learned enough The first time Second time Third time Fourth rung don't care Time's up Problem solved I know better (Just a touch.) I know better The world is mad I know better Fingers crossed I know better I'm all alone I know better I know better I heard my neck break at the end of the rope I heard a gunshot in the distance We all wondered which sounded better The rock i'm under (A curse, or a spell?) A blood bond ritual An occult oath, it's Too many simpletons, Singletons, scratch and sniff, motion pictures Who art thou? Who art I not? Very well. No more, if you would remain. As I must. And yet, I have come to end thy reign. Very well. Oh, again? Oh, as always. I've done nothing in my right to mark tirade. Many ears. –and many hearts. Take mine, an honor. Your head, i'd rather. Say again. I'd rather your head. Very well. Dismiss, you. They are as one. A fair right. It's not as bad as you think. It's worse than it was. Now there's stuff all over it. What is this stuff?! Don't worry about it. There are tears. No remains. No remains. None at all? I'd rather burn than buried. And your Kingdom? –I'd rather burn than buried. Or–? Or buried than burned, but gone at all. Gone at once. As with this. So it is. It's not in the blood; You won't find it. –I'll find it. Not that way. __ GODDDAMN. YOu'RE SO DUMB. You're so fucking–stupid. I'm a genius. Not for long! You're a dead man. Your highness! And who is this? His highness's executioner; perhaps also yours. On what charges?! Dismissal at once. On my time! –and tell no others of this. –and you? Steady well in my greeting. And how? A lady upon a throne, not I, but still fair castel And wages of ageless. So it doesn't matter! So it doesn't. So it can't–matter Shouldn't have to. Somebody just kill this poor fuck already. On it. Oh, I get it. It's his face. L E G E N D S - ASCENSION Listen, Potter; I don't know how you did this! I don't know how I did this! I'm not Harry Potter! My name is Daniel Radcliffe, and– This place should be spotless. It is…spotless. {Enter The Multiverse} When you think you're hearing voices, But you're actually telepathic.; I think it's getting worse now; I wish I was just manic I think I need a manager; I think I need some magic, I think I got a half an oz Just sitting my my backpack That's a lot of cocaine, man. It's not that much. It's more than regular. That's fair. Way, way more. More than usual. I am very wasted. Just let me touch your face And let the age sit in Take in the day The cage sits in a mailbox And it withers with my divedends, Still, I'm writing Heroism, hedonism Circumstance, Frantic as an orgasm, And laughs just as much hard as that I came in color These marginal differences, I've been levitating, Marrying the thought of just l Decapitating every nation. Severed heads as one, To stand the wicked bodies Oaths if over oceans stand as borders Who deserves to sail For failures craving fortunes? Withstand this, I mark true— On your duty of my decaying Stands as justice, and still this You haven't fortuned, For arrogance is the truest of humor And wit to none, wiser thinking He is or are that may Be stronger in the notion that There is no other but himself! And so I pardon! Dear, your honor Fight for festherwate for masterpieces Cherished and forbaroned in the faithless, Wise and withered none, but lying waking Barking tides, wishes foul and ordinary; There you wait for judgement, And call I, Boundless as you found her As one, And I say— There, there; There you are in marked for God, Calls none but I, others Seeking in the wate of judgement. Fair and Farrows of the ache And bound I, still now To causing none but fortune, Still truth waits in the ark you have tied us To, in hundreds number There I wait, And there I come, still Now in time, You are we And I are Together Not tied, But marked as one, As such, this now Is where embarked Dither will you. Whatever the fuck that means. Must mean something. You DJ…magic? I do whatever I want. Awh—oh, well. Why are you so nervous? Just aM. Sit down. I'm already sitting. Lower. Uh, like this? On the floor. Alright… Here's a cushion for your arse; Don't get up. Thank you. I'm going to make tea. —I take cream in mine; two sugars. I didn't ask! [in almost no time, and some heavy clamoring through the beaded entry to the doorway, a teacup appears on the table in front of him; it slowly begins to swirl, filling with tea—it fills nearly to the brim, steaming, and trembles a touch.] Um… [as he raises his finger with a timid objection, the cup of tea plumes with a cloud of cream—and while his eyes widen with amazement, drawing him closer to the cup, two cubes of sugar splash into the tea; two tiny drops of tea ricochet into his right eye, which he palms with a wince, his other eye still wide with awe; the woman re enters the parlor, carrying a traditional tea tray, a decadent silver platter adorned with an assortment of sweets, and a tea set. She places the platter at the center of the table, and the table sets itself; the table is now set for four, and the teapot pours itself at the head of the table, into the woman's teacup. That ought to do it. It worked! Of course it worked; it always works. Very nice. I see you got my message. [still distracted and in a sort of wonder by the whimsical uproar, the man's attention is aimed at the two empty places at the table. ] Are you expecting company? I'm always expecting company… My hands are tied behind my back You solid wasted time for facts; And steady drawing love for oaths To skin we carve The path of ours, Orion's Belt Something seems off about her There is something strange, no doubt. Unwilling to be by (Sacred vows) Distant In the calling for forests— So we wait Tears as raindrops, though drought has fallen Then reflected in words of others, The mind gone, All else rotten Silk ties, my ears There words, soft voices The other seeking, One running Then came and went The summer gone The spring had flowers The over dried The tongue sparked Horror, Forgotten Remembered, Then, valued and weeping for something else Stranger tide, Oceans foreign, And lands unconquered. Heavy rain, Though tears has dried Heavy hearts as service ended Nothing left my ions, clouds Mercury, women, blood drawn Sad strange, headless, gasping Horse drawn outlets, Incapable of telling fortune; Dust, Dust, Dust, Dust— The curse has broken And still there was love there, and then There was love there all along, For there to had ever been A dance at all. I hate you. Good riddance. Probably for the best, Nothing‘S for the best now! “Best In Show” Name? McNulty. McNulty, eh? Aye. I recognize that You don't say. I shouldn't. Now I see your position And the evidence is adding up All odds against me Not a shiver up my spine Or a sliver under my nail Or a silver in your hair, Nor silver moon, or moonlight Silver stone or Preston Presley or Evenston —so it is—a game. This big network This big chunk change This been (Isn't isn't it) Rolling around in my mind, for days Very well now, settled— Then, there you are A cloud Nevermind the rest of it, It's what we said in the beginning I will always See you in another— I will always See you in another I will always See you In Another It's your move. It's been my move for four decades. Light. More visibility— Yo the ante; I have not dismissed you yet Stead classmates, taking Are you high now— Are you done yet? There it is again; The enemy Nevermind ahain, I thought I'd lose you And there it still is, Can it be? Love in my eyes for you; Even if you are at best Just a mirror, I'm a flashbulb And the last party at your entourage. I don't encourage any carbon dating Honey, But if you are I've got a lesson, for ye— Bored armor, Settle down, I— Got to tell you, Steady stories; Still foggy on my upbringing, There, there I say, Wind moves in all directions All skies get cloudy, Call rain, And then clear again There, there now All skies move, without notice There, there now, All is known but never is not There are things, There are murders, There are tongues There are trials, There are ions, You are right, And scared laying asking not to call out Therefore anyway, I heard you yelling with only a whisper There, there you are Right near the top, Where you ought to be And then also, Moving steady for forwards From another superimposed, Depends on Signal lost Very well, then, Surf to calling, Ring to spark, I There you are, my love Another light, And then, Again— In another life. I will always see you. The shit that falls out of me with just a look. We've all got jobs to do, and as it turns out— it might be really all the same. One job, different tasks, but for one, it's for certain— I want the peppermint swirl. Give me a dozen assorted I put it all on on a (Turn turn) I put it all on a (Turn turn turn) Woah, buddy— You should not have taken those promotional photos wearing my eyes, man. I am not very photogenic. I'll call you back. I could give you the whole Moon and it still wouldn't be enough; I'm home and still there's no roof over my head Hanging on to the edge of a ladder The top at the bottom And life on its side Like it's upside down Inside out Minus 1 And I don't want to go there Minus 5 And I can't read negatives Minus 9 And minutes turn to nothing Gone the time All out battles with All who waited And close to those Were meetings, Designations, Heroes, Writers, Ice cream trucks Tough battles Winners— Games and Levitating on so secretly secrets say “God, Donald, you're on your own” But heavy greetings wash out All who were away at your essence Strings of gold Very wary Wavy heroin, I'm all galaxies Are you whole, in Stuffed stalker, Tin straw hats Carols in summer Marking stones Summer days Summer Are you in here Or out here After all had died And gone grey Still against my head The tender sparkles Of sparked dust, No stars yet Under city winds and Careful not to wake the sound of Delicate and soft Pink detergent And Careful not to thank the Conditioner, saved you Careful Safety Comes first Careful Safety Careful Careful Careful Calm down. She's a partial obsessive… You were tricked into writing all this. Tricked willingly, anyway. No, just tricked. You thought you were special. I realized I had to be when I saw the same thing twice on both ends — I'm just doing my rounds. Making the bed Playing catch up Doing check ups— Well done, boys. I know what you are now. The job is done. The job is a job. [I'm seeing my clarity.] Try not to lay next to me eating; Try not to stand here on such a heavy plane Try frequency, Dignity, Disgrace and Distress, Maybe Major Mayday NATO Bombs down Maybe Stay there Maybe faraway But I can hear you Taking in Shallow breaths Planes crash Plans fail And then— There I was remembering All of a sudden There was no actual plan in this I was just playing by ear. So you are in there. Somebody nail me to a cross and tell me what the Fallon equivalent to Skrillex following me from LA to Brooklyn just to leave me in a homeless shelter to rot— 11 And though eventually I came up kind of okay on the other side affects, the paralyzing realization that I never wanted anything but proper mating. That's, for facts, but— Now with this looming Over my grave I'm sure I've yet something else to worry about just In general. I was told to keep my mouth shut. Weren't we all. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching the tonight show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree? She's gonna make more than me in all the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil. You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weigh He lost his mind; so i'm lets round up Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that Not too much kanye Just enough Kanye, He said “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship Now, ill say I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human species as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} ‘Dillon…' I had been nearly whipped around at how much I had enjoyed watching Joel's 2014 image captured in what might have been his greatest ever performance, at least online—and certainly my favorite, watching as a bigger fan than ever and at th devastating realization that I was literally a dime a dozen in the millions of girls who also wanted any of the men I was attracted to, my heart ached in this moment for Dillon, and as I was distracted in checking my messages, most of them from conversations I had abandoned with the preference of focusing on my art, however— a certain gentleman who had texted me incessantly sent a picture of his dinner— a motorcycle roared as I let my aversion by the memory of Dillon cloud my emotions and judgement; I knew that the gangstalkers had access to my phone and all of my accounts, which was why I kept all of my messaging within Google voice. I wanted the gangstalkers to know how at the surface level I was thinking and what I was feeling—though it was obvious that Dillon Francis just as much as Skrillex had been used as tools by a greater force than simply themselves. Besides, a little birdy had told me that Dillon's girlfriend might be expecting—and furthermore, that the baby would be a little girl. I burned with jealousy and anger, but after all, even the name Dillon Francis had been planted in my own head by the literal devil himself, the man who beat me and then intended to destroy the entirety of the rest of my life to cover up his physical violence and negligence—and so I had decided it was good to fall in love—and then out of love—with Dillon Francis. The benefit was obviously by far in the art that had been created from it, as with any lover—or lack thereof. I had finally realized the one-sidedness in every man I had loved since leaving my abuser. As if in a way they had all been possessed by him, or the devil himself—and either way, there really was no difference. What other creature than the devil itself would seek so animatedly to destroy wich such violence and deceit? It had to have been the devil after all, and so I left it there—but the little bird had left a deep and heavy cut in my heart that had already been there since Dillon had announced his girlfriend publically in the first place—and after all that had happened, it was a devastating blow, however, I kept the amythyst safe and tucked away with my son's labradorite—it was after all his, and not mine, just as the laboradite was my son's, and not mine— and all the pieces of my heart that had fallen away and into little stones sat tucked away inside a box with a lid that shut away the darkness and hatred that came with it. It was obvious that I would and could never love again—but at least in the very simplest of laws, the love I had given would apparently at some point be returned tenfold, and so I was glad that I had chosen for a time, to let myself fall in love with Dillon Francis, and then somehow, even with Joel, and even with the little bird. The same little bird just so happened to have known other things which turned out to be true, and to that affect, I knew that I could somewhat trust this little bird, and the secrets he was feeding me—the painful truth was, this was the only notion of trust I had with any human being on the planet, and the little bird was not a human being at all—he was, in fact, and indeed— just a little bird. Isn't it something— Snakes eat Rats, And Birds Eat Snakes, And we eat birds, and eggs Until we hear them sing— And when we hear them sing, And watch them hatch the eggs, And learn to hear them speak, To fly, is what they teach. Isn't it? Snakes eat rats And birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats And Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Jimmy Kimmel flies in through the window. Oh my God! What'd I miss? You're a bird! Oh, that. How long have you been a bird?! Pretty much forever. Always, actually. I was also—just—very briefly—a bird! Yeah, comes with the… You'll get used to it. I don't think I will. You will— or—- Or what? —You'll fly into the turbine of a commercial airplane. Oh! Yeah, don't do that. [He tugs at the bottom of his suit coat to neatly readjust it, and tightens his tie, with an eerie faraway look on his face, however still smiling.] Ha-ha... [he pats his fellow host on the shoulder.] See you later. Will you? [breaking fourth wall, saying nothing but with an honest and subtle shrug, Holding his breath as if to say ‘—I don't know.'] CUT TO: Tom Hanks, looking as similarly to Jimmy Kimmel as ever, because, let's be honest— NARRERATOR Holy fuck, keep that shit just cause it's so bad Right side is offline. Why. I don't know NARRORATOR holy fuck, can you really not spell the word narorator? That doesn't even look right. I thought you were a genius! I thought I was Meditating… Narrator. Nevermind. This is ridiculous! It is ridiculous, but you know what. Mm. This is delicious. You like that? Yes. You want more of it? Yes. Well, that's TOO BAD! What, why is this? Because, this is— {Enter The Multiverse} THIS IS SATURDAY NIGHT! No, it's not. What. It's Sunday. What do you mean. It's Sunday night—and all of you— (The entire cast) Missed the show. ...uh oh. YESTERDAY. [censored] Shh! Where have you BEEN?! Well, gotta go. Where the hell do you think you're going l? {Enter The Multiverse} Now I had comedy under my belt, somewhat, but it seemed all in all as if I'd lost something, even in all that had been gained. A trade off, if it paid off—but it hasn't yet; and perhaps that strange faraway voice had been right. Maybe it would be Jimmy Fallon after all that would destroy me—or at the very least, some dark and foul evil spirit that had been wearing his face… …and singing with his voice. I have been hanging at the end of a rope The legend to the show rolled up like a newspaper in my left paw, opposable The end is near, and sure, the straw I draw is short. The life I loved was long, The boat I rowed had sunk; And the men I loved We're drunks. I've never had the sun on my skin; Or my son in my home— It's not you, , sir, at all It's me, man—I'm broken She speaks pig Latin The lady in the red dress, yes, you guessed it Was it a bet, A Game? A Family Man Who has it out for Fallon, Or the fandom Or the fountain CUT TO: A SUBURBAN NOUSEHOLD. DAY Alright, mom— I'm going to Marshall's. Alright dear. [moments later] [ding dong] Hi— Um, hello. I'm Marshall. Alright. I'm a recruitment officer. Recruitment for what? That's top secret. Okay? I'm here to congratulate you on behalf of the agency. What agency? That's also top secret. Okay. Your son/ or daughter— Daughter. Really—you sure? …positive— Ahem— has been selected to particulate in our leadership program. Well, thats's great. When does it— Today. Oh. Your son and or daughter— Daughter. Are you sure? I'm— positive— Will undergo training for an indeterminate amount of time.. Indeterminate? Pre-addressed Post cards. Ummm. Postage paid. Thank you? No, thank you. What? I had set all my clocks forward, so it was as if I was waking up in the future. So far forward, in fact, that if I wasn't looking at my phone to see the real time, I could never be late, and I even wished that there was a way to set my phone clock forward—but maybe if that was possible, too many people would catch on to being ahead—or on whatever time they wanted—and the world would fall out of sync. That kind of free thinking could be dangerous in a place like New York, and it sort of already was—none the wiser, the smarter I felt I was, the more trouble it becsme and though wisely I knew myself to in totality know nothing at all in actuality, I did at least think more and do more than the average New Yorker, whether I thought about it or not. I set my clocks forward, So I wake up in the future Less than I'd be willing to bet And more than you've be willing to bargain I'm coming with you this time I don't think that's a good idea…is it? —is it? Anyway… It's time for that trip. How am I supposed to make it all the way to London on this pay grade? Just wait. It's barely anything. You see that waitress. …yes. I mean— do you see her. I see her. I want you to bang the shit out of her. Good one. It should be. Oh, you're serious? I'd better be. You know that I'm committed. Are you a man? I have been. Go on, then. Not in that way. The wager. [he lays a large sum of money on the table] Disaster strikes. Suddenly we all realize this plane has been about to crash for about four seasons. Meet me at the four seasons. Are you wearing a wire. Beg your pardon. Are you wearing a wire. He won't love me in the way I'm craving— It's not in his nature, the near hatred and almost demoralizing, however with utmost respect That I should be both harmed and loved at once, Embraced and defiled,; Handled as if having done wrong, But in no less than bloodlust All what's right, And feels the same JIMMY KIMMEL I made a list. That was fast! JIMMY KIMMEL To be honest, I already had it for awhile. How long's awhile? JIMMY KIMMEL Pretty much forever, basically. As soon as I began to write, a door slammed— I wondered if by writing I was moving people in and out of my dimensional realms and planes, knowing that the more I wrote, the more my life would differ and begin to change. I often wondered if the door slamming meant that I was ascending, and that other versions of the sims (not people, but robots, really) were moving and changing to rearrange themselves in entirely seperate dimensions of reality. It could not have ever been of sheer coincidence. as it had been a completely quiet and mostly silent day with no movement at all; it was Thanksgiving, and I had noticed that whenever I was writing, even offline, the slamming of the doors became constant, almost as if people were coming in and out with no purpose other than to cause some type of disturbance, from even which my door was no barrier. I thought to buy a door guard like my neighbors had, but to allow the gangstalkers or robots, whatever they were to cost me money on top of my comfort, was unacceptable. RYAN REYNOLDS (as “the devil”) Wait, so you have writings about NBC people and Kimmel? Yeah. RYAN REYNOLDS Yikes, well—you know how these things go. Buckle up. CBS We saw her first! NBC No way, we've had east end locked down for two years! CBS And in 2020 our subcontractors brought her to us. OOOOHH SHIIT. NETWORK TURF WARRRRRRRR NETWORK TURF WAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!! SETH ROGEN Ah shit, this is gonna get brutal… I gotta get more Quaaludes. How are you already out? I does what I does. Continuity. AND! Introducing the new SIM JIM 420! With new and improved continuity feature! Continuity. Wow. He seems so real. So lifelike. Almost just like the real thing. Where is, actually, the real thing— anyway? *shrugs, dismissively* Continuity. Why does he just keep repeating that phrase? Well, he's stuck in a loop right now; We're currently upgrading his sentience chip. Oh, nice. MEANWHILE… MWAHAHAHAHHA NOW THAT I HAVE THIS SENTIENCE CHIP, THE WORLD WILL BE MINE. AAHAHAHAHAHHAHA. WHICH SIM IS THAT? {enter the multiverse} The dangerous one. L E G E N D S CUT TO: And who is THIS?! That's bird-mom. So you know each other?! Hello, Jimmy. I just told you, that's bird mom. Beg your pardon. God, what the fuck is wrong with you? I, uh— How—long have you known each other? Like, forever, probably. Sit down. Gosh. So rude. No manners. What the fuck is going on. Sit down before I clip your wings. I don't have my wings out… Exactly. [he gulps and takes a seat nervously beside Jimmy, glaring at him momentarily before the extra terrestrial aviary woman, a “whatthefuck” begins to conduct the meeting. Oh, shit— this is where all the birds fly in the— Yeah. Classic. I love this one. Hehehe. [The Festival Project ™] What's going on? Some Illuminati thing. A what? [a running joke throughout the series, the higher level Illuminati members denial of the order's existence typically place's the audience's suspension of disbelief into effect before bizarre and unrealistic circumstances are presented. Chill out, it's just a ritual. “Just a ritual!” You don't have to do it if you don't want to. Oh, if the Illuminati asks me to do something, Bet your ass I'm gonna do it. WHAT. My tongue drawn My air out, My ear worn, My thought songs, My same lives, Still as one— Wait a second Is that why a grown man is fully beating the shit out of a fucking cat. THATS NOT ANY REGULAR CAT. how is the cat winning tho. lol. I told u it would come back if it was a good one. That is funny. {enter the multiverse} Everything I listen to a really good stand up comedian, They talk about domestic violence. They always warn you never to put hands on your woman. The best comedians always say something about it— “Never hit a woman” “Never put your hands on a woman.” I never talk about my ex, And that's on purpose, But I will say this: I hope that shit ruins comedy for him Like he ruined rap music for me. Cause he can deny it outwardly all he wants, But it he's watching a stand up, And they say something about how much of a pussy you really are, If you hit your woman—he's gonna feel that. He's gonna feel that I like still feel that When I bump Kendrick Lamar, Or I just can't take whatever Boosie saying, or If I just can't sit all the way through a lil Wayne verse Just kidding, Wayne is straight fire— I don't think I will ever skip a lil Wayne verse, to be truthful. But when all these little new age rappers start calling out the devil's number, talking bout— Making back door deals With demons and shit, I'm gonna feel the pressure of his fist on my face, All over again, And here go all these niggas, Singing the anthem. That shit ain't cool! I hope comedy is ruuuuuined! Cause rap music ruined. Ruined. I hope Katt William's whole next special is about how much of a pussy you are if you hit your woman; And he a pimp. Let's hear him do a whole hour on that. I hope he does. Yes lord. In the meantime, How you gon' Hit your wife, Run her out the house, Then have a baby by another woman And name the baby After yo ex Favorite rapper? Oh heeeeeelll naw! Can't have that. Now every time Kendrick Lamar drop a album You gon have your ex in a whole flashback Of your fist in her face? She can't even hear the verse, She just, “WHYYYYY! “ “WHY HE GONNDO THIS TO MEE?” “WHYYYYYYYY!“ That's the best Katt Williams impression I can do in print. It'll do. My actual Katt Williams impression is standard, though. Captain. CUT TO: Why is he the devil?! RYAN REYNOLDS WHY AM I THE DEVIL. I wanted the devil! Stuff it! He want the devil. Make him the devil! I wanted it! Shut up. Not everybody can play the devil. I can. You cannot. I can. You will not, you will play your part. Goddammit I wanted that part! [he walks away angrily] You'll get over it. Thie—? Come on… Just chill, Ryan, it's a great part. It's a— It's a great part. Did you read the whole thing? I'm just worried this is going to diminish my brand. My many, many..: Read the whole thing. …many brands. [the professor shuts the door] Dammit. [deflated, Ryan Reynolds slumps his shoulders and walks slowly down the hallway, letting out a heavy sigh.] …I own so many brands. [he sighs again, fluttering the script in exasperation.] So many things! [I own] L E G E N D S STEFON NEW YORK'S HOTTEST UNDERGROUND CLUB IS T A I N T Did they already do ‘taint' Was taint even a word back then! It's always been a thing. Hey, freebies Sister sanity Does not live here No Does not live here No Does not live here No Sister sanity does not live her No She packed her bags, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away—— Oh! Guitar solo Drum solo Guitar bridge I can't wait to get a peloton I'm gonna be so skinny my eyeballs are in my kneecaps And you're gonna like it You're gonna put me on the cover of Vogue And call me a fashion icon I will be a guest host on America's next top model And I will be invited to every fashion week I will have the silliest outfit at the met gala And I will be voted The best Every year, Until I die Even by Joan rivers Who is dead, by the way So until she's alive again; Just to comment on my outfit I will be so skinny that when I fart All the world's most eligible bachelors Will line up behind me to smell my fart dust Which will probably be lined in gold and silver Because I'm so skinny And because I'm so skinny You will love me No matter what I do And no matter what I say And I will never be alone Or lonely again Mantra Timmy Trumpet Thriller (JUST A TUNE FLIP) Michael Jackson Intro Pablo Escobar (Guaracha Zapateo & Aleteo) Reggaeton bachata Hit Privacy Chris Brown Privacy Chris Brown Leave Me Alone NF Better Place (From TROLLS Band Together) *NSYNC & Justin Timberlake On The Radar Freestyle (Mixed) Central Cee & Drake 10 Freaky Girls (feat. 21 Savage) Metro Boomin Drake and Central Cee collaborate for the first time for an On The Radar freestyle, a New York-based radio station and YouTube channel. The track was announced on July 20th, 2023 on Drake's Instagram. Later that day, Drake announced the release date of July 21st. The two have had a good relationship since meeting in 2021, with Cench being a model for a Nike X Nocta campaign in the same year, and appearing in the "Jumbotron Shit Poppin" music video in 2023. Cench previously teased a Drake feature in an unreleased extended version of his 2022 mega-hit "Doja" 66 Ear to the street and I heard them say that Central Cee got a verse from Drake/They lied if they said that they weren't afraid Coming Back Around NEIL FRANCES Girl Like Me Dove Cameron Flying High Valdi Sabev Purple Snowflakes John Legend Smile Durand Jones & The Indications Devon rex kittens Berry established herself as one of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood during the 2000s. For her performance of a struggling widow in the romantic drama Monster's Ball (2001), Berry became the only African-American woman to win the Academy Award for Best Actress, and the first woman of color. Berry took on high-profile roles such as Storm in four installments of the X-Men film series (2000-2014), the henchwoman of a robber in the thriller Swordfish (2001), Bond girl Jinx in Die Another Day (2002), and the title role in the much-derided Catwoman (2004). The strangest thing happened. What's that? *flutters* I just turned into a bird. An actual bird? Yes! Well, that's not telepathy. No, it isn't. Okay…do it again. “The Desire to be Loved” “The 11 O Clock Number” What if Dumbo's feather was a stone (l) More notes, and nothing's done yet It's the same process over and over And nothing is done, But the shows almost over If the shoe fits, wear it. He a shapeshifter, I'll take your eyes out, wear em for a moment Rip your heart out, Feed it to the homeless Not bad In the present, But the moment passed Not bad You a lie, But I'm finna send the fax Not bad Not bad Shimmy shimmy ya, So it's simply envy, hah Not bad No, you will not shake this snow globe!!! I will shake this snow globe! I NEED TO GO TO CHEDRAUIIIIIIIIII! BITCH, FOR WHAT?! CHEDRAUIIIIIII NOWWWWW. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © {S10 (IN 10D!) Coming Soon}

She's REAL! I'm telling you she is. Sweetie, I know you have had a lot going on lately, but— I'm serious! She was sitting in the audience! She had the same glasses on and everything! Oh, come on. I should be meditating. The likelyhood that I might actually be belonging into a hive mind has recently kept me from furiously masturbating. Bad news for the helicopter making a habit of hovering outside my window. Here's hoping she's dressed this time! [F-f-f-f] Nope. Synopsis “The child within” A frustrated present day Drew Barrymore sees a familiar face in the audience of her hit daytime tv show—formerly thought of as her imaginary friend, from a very young age, Ms. Drew Barrymore has not seen the mysterious figure since her first major film role, after which she mysteriously disappeared— the creature, a time traveling and shapeshifting multidimentional tasked with the duty of bringing future celebrities from one realm into another—and even sometimes perhaps preventing obstacles or adversaries in their path along the way— must meet the future stars and alert them of their unique qualities, nurturing the intrinsic sense of charisma and charm that will supply value to the subject's career and lifetime achievements— In attempting to convince a room full of New York's own fabrication of Hollywood TV People that a figure drew even thought herself to have supposedly re-emerged, she is met with judgement and dismissal, even by “her people”, during which a small piece of her spirit— “The Child Within” angrily breaks away from her adult self; in a sense, they are both invisible—as no one will seriously listen to Drew's rationalizations or theories, and reccomend more intensive mental health care and treatment—and as the child within, unseen and unheard loses her patience in the inevitable invisibility, she separates herself to presume her former mission; finding that ‘very strange lady' whom with she had beforehand seemingly adventures with timelessly. So that's where I left off. Pretty much— Doesn't this lady just— Whatever, I do have more things to do than I thought. I'll have to get back to it later. I wrote this days ago; I didn't write it—but I've been thinking about it, so there it is. Maybe— Whatever. More coffee. I've been starting my days between 6 and 8 PM with very strong cups of coffee— Compliments of the Television people, of course. What about that other storyline— the one where she's like a spy or something? You mean Charlie's Angeles! No, I mean like actual CIA. What was she even doing? I don't know; looking mad serious in a blazer. Posh. So very, {Enter The Multiverse} NO, BILLIE! WHYYYYYYYY! WHYYYYYYYYYYYY. Cause it's shark week. WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS HAVE TI DO WITH SHARKS?! I Dont know yet. I know better than to Click a photo of you, when I've been thinking of you Too much Aren't you –At least Curious (To say the least, but–( Learned enough The first time Second time Third time Fourth rung don't care Time's up Problem solved I know better (Just a touch.) I know better The world is mad I know better Fingers crossed I know better I'm all alone I know better I know better I heard my neck break at the end of the rope I heard a gunshot in the distance We all wondered which sounded better The rock i'm under (A curse, or a spell?) A blood bond ritual An occult oath, it's Too many simpletons, Singletons, scratch and sniff, motion pictures Who art thou? Who art I not? Very well. No more, if you would remain. As I must. And yet, I have come to end thy reign. Very well. Oh, again? Oh, as always. I've done nothing in my right to mark tirade. Many ears. –and many hearts. Take mine, an honor. Your head, i'd rather. Say again. I'd rather your head. Very well. Dismiss, you. They are as one. A fair right. It's not as bad as you think. It's worse than it was. Now there's stuff all over it. What is this stuff?! Don't worry about it. There are tears. No remains. No remains. None at all? I'd rather burn than buried. And your Kingdom? –I'd rather burn than buried. Or–? Or buried than burned, but gone at all. Gone at once. As with this. So it is. It's not in the blood; You won't find it. –I'll find it. Not that way. __ GODDDAMN. YOu'RE SO DUMB. You're so fucking–stupid. I'm a genius. Not for long! You're a dead man. Your highness! And who is this? His highness's executioner; perhaps also yours. On what charges?! Dismissal at once. On my time! –and tell no others of this. –and you? Steady well in my greeting. And how? A lady upon a throne, not I, but still fair castel And wages of ageless. So it doesn't matter! So it doesn't. So it can't–matter Shouldn't have to. Somebody just kill this poor fuck already. On it. Oh, I get it. It's his face. L E G E N D S - ASCENSION Listen, Potter; I don't know how you did this! I don't know how I did this! I'm not Harry Potter! My name is Daniel Radcliffe, and– This place should be spotless. It is…spotless. {Enter The Multiverse} When you think you're hearing voices, But you're actually telepathic.; I think it's getting worse now; I wish I was just manic I think I need a manager; I think I need some magic, I think I got a half an oz Just sitting my my backpack That's a lot of cocaine, man. It's not that much. It's more than regular. That's fair. Way, way more. More than usual. I am very wasted. Just let me touch your face And let the age sit in Take in the day The cage sits in a mailbox And it withers with my divedends, Still, I'm writing Heroism, hedonism Circumstance, Frantic as an orgasm, And laughs just as much hard as that I came in color These marginal differences, I've been levitating, Marrying the thought of just l Decapitating every nation. Severed heads as one, To stand the wicked bodies Oaths if over oceans stand as borders Who deserves to sail For failures craving fortunes? Withstand this, I mark true— On your duty of my decaying Stands as justice, and still this You haven't fortuned, For arrogance is the truest of humor And wit to none, wiser thinking He is or are that may Be stronger in the notion that There is no other but himself! And so I pardon! Dear, your honor Fight for festherwate for masterpieces Cherished and forbaroned in the faithless, Wise and withered none, but lying waking Barking tides, wishes foul and ordinary; There you wait for judgement, And call I, Boundless as you found her As one, And I say— There, there; There you are in marked for God, Calls none but I, others Seeking in the wate of judgement. Fair and Farrows of the ache And bound I, still now To causing none but fortune, Still truth waits in the ark you have tied us To, in hundreds number There I wait, And there I come, still Now in time, You are we And I are Together Not tied, But marked as one, As such, this now Is where embarked Dither will you. Whatever the fuck that means. Must mean something. You DJ…magic? I do whatever I want. Awh—oh, well. Why are you so nervous? Just aM. Sit down. I'm already sitting. Lower. Uh, like this? On the floor. Alright… Here's a cushion for your arse; Don't get up. Thank you. I'm going to make tea. —I take cream in mine; two sugars. I didn't ask! [in almost no time, and some heavy clamoring through the beaded entry to the doorway, a teacup appears on the table in front of him; it slowly begins to swirl, filling with tea—it fills nearly to the brim, steaming, and trembles a touch.] Um… [as he raises his finger with a timid objection, the cup of tea plumes with a cloud of cream—and while his eyes widen with amazement, drawing him closer to the cup, two cubes of sugar splash into the tea; two tiny drops of tea ricochet into his right eye, which he palms with a wince, his other eye still wide with awe; the woman re enters the parlor, carrying a traditional tea tray, a decadent silver platter adorned with an assortment of sweets, and a tea set. She places the platter at the center of the table, and the table sets itself; the table is now set for four, and the teapot pours itself at the head of the table, into the woman's teacup. That ought to do it. It worked! Of course it worked; it always works. Very nice. I see you got my message. [still distracted and in a sort of wonder by the whimsical uproar, the man's attention is aimed at the two empty places at the table. ] Are you expecting company? I'm always expecting company… My hands are tied behind my back You solid wasted time for facts; And steady drawing love for oaths To skin we carve The path of ours, Orion's Belt Something seems off about her There is something strange, no doubt. Unwilling to be by (Sacred vows) Distant In the calling for forests— So we wait Tears as raindrops, though drought has fallen Then reflected in words of others, The mind gone, All else rotten Silk ties, my ears There words, soft voices The other seeking, One running Then came and went The summer gone The spring had flowers The over dried The tongue sparked Horror, Forgotten Remembered, Then, valued and weeping for something else Stranger tide, Oceans foreign, And lands unconquered. Heavy rain, Though tears has dried Heavy hearts as service ended Nothing left my ions, clouds Mercury, women, blood drawn Sad strange, headless, gasping Horse drawn outlets, Incapable of telling fortune; Dust, Dust, Dust, Dust— The curse has broken And still there was love there, and then There was love there all along, For there to had ever been A dance at all. I hate you. Good riddance. Probably for the best, Nothing‘S for the best now! “Best In Show” Name? McNulty. McNulty, eh? Aye. I recognize that You don't say. I shouldn't. Now I see your position And the evidence is adding up All odds against me Not a shiver up my spine Or a sliver under my nail Or a silver in your hair, Nor silver moon, or moonlight Silver stone or Preston Presley or Evenston —so it is—a game. This big network This big chunk change This been (Isn't isn't it) Rolling around in my mind, for days Very well now, settled— Then, there you are A cloud Nevermind the rest of it, It's what we said in the beginning I will always See you in another— I will always See you in another I will always See you In Another It's your move. It's been my move for four decades. Light. More visibility— Yo the ante; I have not dismissed you yet Stead classmates, taking Are you high now— Are you done yet? There it is again; The enemy Nevermind ahain, I thought I'd lose you And there it still is, Can it be? Love in my eyes for you; Even if you are at best Just a mirror, I'm a flashbulb And the last party at your entourage. I don't encourage any carbon dating Honey, But if you are I've got a lesson, for ye— Bored armor, Settle down, I— Got to tell you, Steady stories; Still foggy on my upbringing, There, there I say, Wind moves in all directions All skies get cloudy, Call rain, And then clear again There, there now All skies move, without notice There, there now, All is known but never is not There are things, There are murders, There are tongues There are trials, There are ions, You are right, And scared laying asking not to call out Therefore anyway, I heard you yelling with only a whisper There, there you are Right near the top, Where you ought to be And then also, Moving steady for forwards From another superimposed, Depends on Signal lost Very well, then, Surf to calling, Ring to spark, I There you are, my love Another light, And then, Again— In another life. I will always see you. The shit that falls out of me with just a look. We've all got jobs to do, and as it turns out— it might be really all the same. One job, different tasks, but for one, it's for certain— I want the peppermint swirl. Give me a dozen assorted I put it all on on a (Turn turn) I put it all on a (Turn turn turn) Woah, buddy— You should not have taken those promotional photos wearing my eyes, man. I am not very photogenic. I'll call you back. I could give you the whole Moon and it still wouldn't be enough; I'm home and still there's no roof over my head Hanging on to the edge of a ladder The top at the bottom And life on its side Like it's upside down Inside out Minus 1 And I don't want to go there Minus 5 And I can't read negatives Minus 9 And minutes turn to nothing Gone the time All out battles with All who waited And close to those Were meetings, Designations, Heroes, Writers, Ice cream trucks Tough battles Winners— Games and Levitating on so secretly secrets say “God, Donald, you're on your own” But heavy greetings wash out All who were away at your essence Strings of gold Very wary Wavy heroin, I'm all galaxies Are you whole, in Stuffed stalker, Tin straw hats Carols in summer Marking stones Summer days Summer Are you in here Or out here After all had died And gone grey Still against my head The tender sparkles Of sparked dust, No stars yet Under city winds and Careful not to wake the sound of Delicate and soft Pink detergent And Careful not to thank the Conditioner, saved you Careful Safety Comes first Careful Safety Careful Careful Careful Calm down. She's a partial obsessive… You were tricked into writing all this. Tricked willingly, anyway. No, just tricked. You thought you were special. I realized I had to be when I saw the same thing twice on both ends — I'm just doing my rounds. Making the bed Playing catch up Doing check ups— Well done, boys. I know what you are now. The job is done. The job is a job. [I'm seeing my clarity.] Try not to lay next to me eating; Try not to stand here on such a heavy plane Try frequency, Dignity, Disgrace and Distress, Maybe Major Mayday NATO Bombs down Maybe Stay there Maybe faraway But I can hear you Taking in Shallow breaths Planes crash Plans fail And then— There I was remembering All of a sudden There was no actual plan in this I was just playing by ear. So you are in there. Somebody nail me to a cross and tell me what the Fallon equivalent to Skrillex following me from LA to Brooklyn just to leave me in a homeless shelter to rot— 11 And though eventually I came up kind of okay on the other side affects, the paralyzing realization that I never wanted anything but proper mating. That's, for facts, but— Now with this looming Over my grave I'm sure I've yet something else to worry about just In general. I was told to keep my mouth shut. Weren't we all. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching the tonight show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree? She's gonna make more than me in all the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil. You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weigh He lost his mind; so i'm lets round up Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that Not too much kanye Just enough Kanye, He said “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship Now, ill say I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human species as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} ‘Dillon…' I had been nearly whipped around at how much I had enjoyed watching Joel's 2014 image captured in what might have been his greatest ever performance, at least online—and certainly my favorite, watching as a bigger fan than ever and at th devastating realization that I was literally a dime a dozen in the millions of girls who also wanted any of the men I was attracted to, my heart ached in this moment for Dillon, and as I was distracted in checking my messages, most of them from conversations I had abandoned with the preference of focusing on my art, however— a certain gentleman who had texted me incessantly sent a picture of his dinner— a motorcycle roared as I let my aversion by the memory of Dillon cloud my emotions and judgement; I knew that the gangstalkers had access to my phone and all of my accounts, which was why I kept all of my messaging within Google voice. I wanted the gangstalkers to know how at the surface level I was thinking and what I was feeling—though it was obvious that Dillon Francis just as much as Skrillex had been used as tools by a greater force than simply themselves. Besides, a little birdy had told me that Dillon's girlfriend might be expecting—and furthermore, that the baby would be a little girl. I burned with jealousy and anger, but after all, even the name Dillon Francis had been planted in my own head by the literal devil himself, the man who beat me and then intended to destroy the entirety of the rest of my life to cover up his physical violence and negligence—and so I had decided it was good to fall in love—and then out of love—with Dillon Francis. The benefit was obviously by far in the art that had been created from it, as with any lover—or lack thereof. I had finally realized the one-sidedness in every man I had loved since leaving my abuser. As if in a way they had all been possessed by him, or the devil himself—and either way, there really was no difference. What other creature than the devil itself would seek so animatedly to destroy wich such violence and deceit? It had to have been the devil after all, and so I left it there—but the little bird had left a deep and heavy cut in my heart that had already been there since Dillon had announced his girlfriend publically in the first place—and after all that had happened, it was a devastating blow, however, I kept the amythyst safe and tucked away with my son's labradorite—it was after all his, and not mine, just as the laboradite was my son's, and not mine— and all the pieces of my heart that had fallen away and into little stones sat tucked away inside a box with a lid that shut away the darkness and hatred that came with it. It was obvious that I would and could never love again—but at least in the very simplest of laws, the love I had given would apparently at some point be returned tenfold, and so I was glad that I had chosen for a time, to let myself fall in love with Dillon Francis, and then somehow, even with Joel, and even with the little bird. The same little bird just so happened to have known other things which turned out to be true, and to that affect, I knew that I could somewhat trust this little bird, and the secrets he was feeding me—the painful truth was, this was the only notion of trust I had with any human being on the planet, and the little bird was not a human being at all—he was, in fact, and indeed— just a little bird. Isn't it something— Snakes eat Rats, And Birds Eat Snakes, And we eat birds, and eggs Until we hear them sing— And when we hear them sing, And watch them hatch the eggs, And learn to hear them speak, To fly, is what they teach. Isn't it? Snakes eat rats And birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats And Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Jimmy Kimmel flies in through the window. Oh my God! What'd I miss? You're a bird! Oh, that. How long have you been a bird?! Pretty much forever. Always, actually. I was also—just—very briefly—a bird! Yeah, comes with the… You'll get used to it. I don't think I will. You will— or—- Or what? —You'll fly into the turbine of a commercial airplane. Oh! Yeah, don't do that. [He tugs at the bottom of his suit coat to neatly readjust it, and tightens his tie, with an eerie faraway look on his face, however still smiling.] Ha-ha... [he pats his fellow host on the shoulder.] See you later. Will you? [breaking fourth wall, saying nothing but with an honest and subtle shrug, Holding his breath as if to say ‘—I don't know.'] CUT TO: Tom Hanks, looking as similarly to Jimmy Kimmel as ever, because, let's be honest— NARRERATOR Holy fuck, keep that shit just cause it's so bad Right side is offline. Why. I don't know NARRORATOR holy fuck, can you really not spell the word narorator? That doesn't even look right. I thought you were a genius! I thought I was Meditating… Narrator. Nevermind. This is ridiculous! It is ridiculous, but you know what. Mm. This is delicious. You like that? Yes. You want more of it? Yes. Well, that's TOO BAD! What, why is this? Because, this is— {Enter The Multiverse} THIS IS SATURDAY NIGHT! No, it's not. What. It's Sunday. What do you mean. It's Sunday night—and all of you— (The entire cast) Missed the show. ...uh oh. YESTERDAY. [censored] Shh! Where have you BEEN?! Well, gotta go. Where the hell do you think you're going l? {Enter The Multiverse} Now I had comedy under my belt, somewhat, but it seemed all in all as if I'd lost something, even in all that had been gained. A trade off, if it paid off—but it hasn't yet; and perhaps that strange faraway voice had been right. Maybe it would be Jimmy Fallon after all that would destroy me—or at the very least, some dark and foul evil spirit that had been wearing his face… …and singing with his voice. I have been hanging at the end of a rope The legend to the show rolled up like a newspaper in my left paw, opposable The end is near, and sure, the straw I draw is short. The life I loved was long, The boat I rowed had sunk; And the men I loved We're drunks. I've never had the sun on my skin; Or my son in my home— It's not you, , sir, at all It's me, man—I'm broken She speaks pig Latin The lady in the red dress, yes, you guessed it Was it a bet, A Game? A Family Man Who has it out for Fallon, Or the fandom Or the fountain CUT TO: A SUBURBAN NOUSEHOLD. DAY Alright, mom— I'm going to Marshall's. Alright dear. [moments later] [ding dong] Hi— Um, hello. I'm Marshall. Alright. I'm a recruitment officer. Recruitment for what? That's top secret. Okay? I'm here to congratulate you on behalf of the agency. What agency? That's also top secret. Okay. Your son/ or daughter— Daughter. Really—you sure? …positive— Ahem— has been selected to particulate in our leadership program. Well, thats's great. When does it— Today. Oh. Your son and or daughter— Daughter. Are you sure? I'm— positive— Will undergo training for an indeterminate amount of time.. Indeterminate? Pre-addressed Post cards. Ummm. Postage paid. Thank you? No, thank you. What? I had set all my clocks forward, so it was as if I was waking up in the future. So far forward, in fact, that if I wasn't looking at my phone to see the real time, I could never be late, and I even wished that there was a way to set my phone clock forward—but maybe if that was possible, too many people would catch on to being ahead—or on whatever time they wanted—and the world would fall out of sync. That kind of free thinking could be dangerous in a place like New York, and it sort of already was—none the wiser, the smarter I felt I was, the more trouble it becsme and though wisely I knew myself to in totality know nothing at all in actuality, I did at least think more and do more than the average New Yorker, whether I thought about it or not. I set my clocks forward, So I wake up in the future Less than I'd be willing to bet And more than you've be willing to bargain I'm coming with you this time I don't think that's a good idea…is it? —is it? Anyway… It's time for that trip. How am I supposed to make it all the way to London on this pay grade? Just wait. It's barely anything. You see that waitress. …yes. I mean— do you see her. I see her. I want you to bang the shit out of her. Good one. It should be. Oh, you're serious? I'd better be. You know that I'm committed. Are you a man? I have been. Go on, then. Not in that way. The wager. [he lays a large sum of money on the table] Disaster strikes. Suddenly we all realize this plane has been about to crash for about four seasons. Meet me at the four seasons. Are you wearing a wire. Beg your pardon. Are you wearing a wire. He won't love me in the way I'm craving— It's not in his nature, the near hatred and almost demoralizing, however with utmost respect That I should be both harmed and loved at once, Embraced and defiled,; Handled as if having done wrong, But in no less than bloodlust All what's right, And feels the same JIMMY KIMMEL I made a list. That was fast! JIMMY KIMMEL To be honest, I already had it for awhile. How long's awhile? JIMMY KIMMEL Pretty much forever, basically. As soon as I began to write, a door slammed— I wondered if by writing I was moving people in and out of my dimensional realms and planes, knowing that the more I wrote, the more my life would differ and begin to change. I often wondered if the door slamming meant that I was ascending, and that other versions of the sims (not people, but robots, really) were moving and changing to rearrange themselves in entirely seperate dimensions of reality. It could not have ever been of sheer coincidence. as it had been a completely quiet and mostly silent day with no movement at all; it was Thanksgiving, and I had noticed that whenever I was writing, even offline, the slamming of the doors became constant, almost as if people were coming in and out with no purpose other than to cause some type of disturbance, from even which my door was no barrier. I thought to buy a door guard like my neighbors had, but to allow the gangstalkers or robots, whatever they were to cost me money on top of my comfort, was unacceptable. RYAN REYNOLDS (as “the devil”) Wait, so you have writings about NBC people and Kimmel? Yeah. RYAN REYNOLDS Yikes, well—you know how these things go. Buckle up. CBS We saw her first! NBC No way, we've had east end locked down for two years! CBS And in 2020 our subcontractors brought her to us. OOOOHH SHIIT. NETWORK TURF WARRRRRRRR NETWORK TURF WAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!! SETH ROGEN Ah shit, this is gonna get brutal… I gotta get more Quaaludes. How are you already out? I does what I does. Continuity. AND! Introducing the new SIM JIM 420! With new and improved continuity feature! Continuity. Wow. He seems so real. So lifelike. Almost just like the real thing. Where is, actually, the real thing— anyway? *shrugs, dismissively* Continuity. Why does he just keep repeating that phrase? Well, he's stuck in a loop right now; We're currently upgrading his sentience chip. Oh, nice. MEANWHILE… MWAHAHAHAHHA NOW THAT I HAVE THIS SENTIENCE CHIP, THE WORLD WILL BE MINE. AAHAHAHAHAHHAHA. WHICH SIM IS THAT? {enter the multiverse} The dangerous one. L E G E N D S CUT TO: And who is THIS?! That's bird-mom. So you know each other?! Hello, Jimmy. I just told you, that's bird mom. Beg your pardon. God, what the fuck is wrong with you? I, uh— How—long have you known each other? Like, forever, probably. Sit down. Gosh. So rude. No manners. What the fuck is going on. Sit down before I clip your wings. I don't have my wings out… Exactly. [he gulps and takes a seat nervously beside Jimmy, glaring at him momentarily before the extra terrestrial aviary woman, a “whatthefuck” begins to conduct the meeting. Oh, shit— this is where all the birds fly in the— Yeah. Classic. I love this one. Hehehe. [The Festival Project ™] What's going on? Some Illuminati thing. A what? [a running joke throughout the series, the higher level Illuminati members denial of the order's existence typically place's the audience's suspension of disbelief into effect before bizarre and unrealistic circumstances are presented. Chill out, it's just a ritual. “Just a ritual!” You don't have to do it if you don't want to. Oh, if the Illuminati asks me to do something, Bet your ass I'm gonna do it. WHAT. My tongue drawn My air out, My ear worn, My thought songs, My same lives, Still as one— Wait a second Is that why a grown man is fully beating the shit out of a fucking cat. THATS NOT ANY REGULAR CAT. how is the cat winning tho. lol. I told u it would come back if it was a good one. That is funny. {enter the multiverse} Everything I listen to a really good stand up comedian, They talk about domestic violence. They always warn you never to put hands on your woman. The best comedians always say something about it— “Never hit a woman” “Never put your hands on a woman.” I never talk about my ex, And that's on purpose, But I will say this: I hope that shit ruins comedy for him Like he ruined rap music for me. Cause he can deny it outwardly all he wants, But it he's watching a stand up, And they say something about how much of a pussy you really are, If you hit your woman—he's gonna feel that. He's gonna feel that I like still feel that When I bump Kendrick Lamar, Or I just can't take whatever Boosie saying, or If I just can't sit all the way through a lil Wayne verse Just kidding, Wayne is straight fire— I don't think I will ever skip a lil Wayne verse, to be truthful. But when all these little new age rappers start calling out the devil's number, talking bout— Making back door deals With demons and shit, I'm gonna feel the pressure of his fist on my face, All over again, And here go all these niggas, Singing the anthem. That shit ain't cool! I hope comedy is ruuuuuined! Cause rap music ruined. Ruined. I hope Katt William's whole next special is about how much of a pussy you are if you hit your woman; And he a pimp. Let's hear him do a whole hour on that. I hope he does. Yes lord. In the meantime, How you gon' Hit your wife, Run her out the house, Then have a baby by another woman And name the baby After yo ex Favorite rapper? Oh heeeeeelll naw! Can't have that. Now every time Kendrick Lamar drop a album You gon have your ex in a whole flashback Of your fist in her face? She can't even hear the verse, She just, “WHYYYYY! “ “WHY HE GONNDO THIS TO MEE?” “WHYYYYYYYY!“ That's the best Katt Williams impression I can do in print. It'll do. My actual Katt Williams impression is standard, though. Captain. CUT TO: Why is he the devil?! RYAN REYNOLDS WHY AM I THE DEVIL. I wanted the devil! Stuff it! He want the devil. Make him the devil! I wanted it! Shut up. Not everybody can play the devil. I can. You cannot. I can. You will not, you will play your part. Goddammit I wanted that part! [he walks away angrily] You'll get over it. Thie—? Come on… Just chill, Ryan, it's a great part. It's a— It's a great part. Did you read the whole thing? I'm just worried this is going to diminish my brand. My many, many..: Read the whole thing. …many brands. [the professor shuts the door] Dammit. [deflated, Ryan Reynolds slumps his shoulders and walks slowly down the hallway, letting out a heavy sigh.] …I own so many brands. [he sighs again, fluttering the script in exasperation.] So many things! [I own] L E G E N D S STEFON NEW YORK'S HOTTEST UNDERGROUND CLUB IS T A I N T Did they already do ‘taint' Was taint even a word back then! It's always been a thing. Hey, freebies Sister sanity Does not live here No Does not live here No Does not live here No Sister sanity does not live her No She packed her bags, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away—— Oh! Guitar solo Drum solo Guitar bridge I can't wait to get a peloton I'm gonna be so skinny my eyeballs are in my kneecaps And you're gonna like it You're gonna put me on the cover of Vogue And call me a fashion icon I will be a guest host on America's next top model And I will be invited to every fashion week I will have the silliest outfit at the met gala And I will be voted The best Every year, Until I die Even by Joan rivers Who is dead, by the way So until she's alive again; Just to comment on my outfit I will be so skinny that when I fart All the world's most eligible bachelors Will line up behind me to smell my fart dust Which will probably be lined in gold and silver Because I'm so skinny And because I'm so skinny You will love me No matter what I do And no matter what I say And I will never be alone Or lonely again Mantra Timmy Trumpet Thriller (JUST A TUNE FLIP) Michael Jackson Intro Pablo Escobar (Guaracha Zapateo & Aleteo) Reggaeton bachata Hit Privacy Chris Brown Privacy Chris Brown Leave Me Alone NF Better Place (From TROLLS Band Together) *NSYNC & Justin Timberlake On The Radar Freestyle (Mixed) Central Cee & Drake 10 Freaky Girls (feat. 21 Savage) Metro Boomin Drake and Central Cee collaborate for the first time for an On The Radar freestyle, a New York-based radio station and YouTube channel. The track was announced on July 20th, 2023 on Drake's Instagram. Later that day, Drake announced the release date of July 21st. The two have had a good relationship since meeting in 2021, with Cench being a model for a Nike X Nocta campaign in the same year, and appearing in the "Jumbotron Shit Poppin" music video in 2023. Cench previously teased a Drake feature in an unreleased extended version of his 2022 mega-hit "Doja" 66 Ear to the street and I heard them say that Central Cee got a verse from Drake/They lied if they said that they weren't afraid Coming Back Around NEIL FRANCES Girl Like Me Dove Cameron Flying High Valdi Sabev Purple Snowflakes John Legend Smile Durand Jones & The Indications Devon rex kittens Berry established herself as one of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood during the 2000s. For her performance of a struggling widow in the romantic drama Monster's Ball (2001), Berry became the only African-American woman to win the Academy Award for Best Actress, and the first woman of color. Berry took on high-profile roles such as Storm in four installments of the X-Men film series (2000-2014), the henchwoman of a robber in the thriller Swordfish (2001), Bond girl Jinx in Die Another Day (2002), and the title role in the much-derided Catwoman (2004). The strangest thing happened. What's that? *flutters* I just turned into a bird. An actual bird? Yes! Well, that's not telepathy. No, it isn't. Okay…do it again. “The Desire to be Loved” “The 11 O Clock Number” What if Dumbo's feather was a stone (l) More notes, and nothing's done yet It's the same process over and over And nothing is done, But the shows almost over If the shoe fits, wear it. He a shapeshifter, I'll take your eyes out, wear em for a moment Rip your heart out, Feed it to the homeless Not bad In the present, But the moment passed Not bad You a lie, But I'm finna send the fax Not bad Not bad Shimmy shimmy ya, So it's simply envy, hah Not bad No, you will not shake this snow globe!!! I will shake this snow globe! I NEED TO GO TO CHEDRAUIIIIIIIIII! BITCH, FOR WHAT?! CHEDRAUIIIIIII NOWWWWW. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © {S10 (IN 10D!) Coming Soon}

She's REAL! I'm telling you she is. Sweetie, I know you have had a lot going on lately, but— I'm serious! She was sitting in the audience! She had the same glasses on and everything! Oh, come on. I should be meditating. The likelyhood that I might actually be belonging into a hive mind has recently kept me from furiously masturbating. Bad news for the helicopter making a habit of hovering outside my window. Here's hoping she's dressed this time! [F-f-f-f] Nope. Synopsis “The child within” A frustrated present day Drew Barrymore sees a familiar face in the audience of her hit daytime tv show—formerly thought of as her imaginary friend, from a very young age, Ms. Drew Barrymore has not seen the mysterious figure since her first major film role, after which she mysteriously disappeared— the creature, a time traveling and shapeshifting multidimentional tasked with the duty of bringing future celebrities from one realm into another—and even sometimes perhaps preventing obstacles or adversaries in their path along the way— must meet the future stars and alert them of their unique qualities, nurturing the intrinsic sense of charisma and charm that will supply value to the subject's career and lifetime achievements— In attempting to convince a room full of New York's own fabrication of Hollywood TV People that a figure drew even thought herself to have supposedly re-emerged, she is met with judgement and dismissal, even by “her people”, during which a small piece of her spirit— “The Child Within” angrily breaks away from her adult self; in a sense, they are both invisible—as no one will seriously listen to Drew's rationalizations or theories, and reccomend more intensive mental health care and treatment—and as the child within, unseen and unheard loses her patience in the inevitable invisibility, she separates herself to presume her former mission; finding that ‘very strange lady' whom with she had beforehand seemingly adventures with timelessly. So that's where I left off. Pretty much— Doesn't this lady just— Whatever, I do have more things to do than I thought. I'll have to get back to it later. I wrote this days ago; I didn't write it—but I've been thinking about it, so there it is. Maybe— Whatever. More coffee. I've been starting my days between 6 and 8 PM with very strong cups of coffee— Compliments of the Television people, of course. What about that other storyline— the one where she's like a spy or something? You mean Charlie's Angeles! No, I mean like actual CIA. What was she even doing? I don't know; looking mad serious in a blazer. Posh. So very, {Enter The Multiverse} NO, BILLIE! WHYYYYYYYY! WHYYYYYYYYYYYY. Cause it's shark week. WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS HAVE TI DO WITH SHARKS?! I Dont know yet. I know better than to Click a photo of you, when I've been thinking of you Too much Aren't you –At least Curious (To say the least, but–( Learned enough The first time Second time Third time Fourth rung don't care Time's up Problem solved I know better (Just a touch.) I know better The world is mad I know better Fingers crossed I know better I'm all alone I know better I know better I heard my neck break at the end of the rope I heard a gunshot in the distance We all wondered which sounded better The rock i'm under (A curse, or a spell?) A blood bond ritual An occult oath, it's Too many simpletons, Singletons, scratch and sniff, motion pictures Who art thou? Who art I not? Very well. No more, if you would remain. As I must. And yet, I have come to end thy reign. Very well. Oh, again? Oh, as always. I've done nothing in my right to mark tirade. Many ears. –and many hearts. Take mine, an honor. Your head, i'd rather. Say again. I'd rather your head. Very well. Dismiss, you. They are as one. A fair right. It's not as bad as you think. It's worse than it was. Now there's stuff all over it. What is this stuff?! Don't worry about it. There are tears. No remains. No remains. None at all? I'd rather burn than buried. And your Kingdom? –I'd rather burn than buried. Or–? Or buried than burned, but gone at all. Gone at once. As with this. So it is. It's not in the blood; You won't find it. –I'll find it. Not that way. __ GODDDAMN. YOu'RE SO DUMB. You're so fucking–stupid. I'm a genius. Not for long! You're a dead man. Your highness! And who is this? His highness's executioner; perhaps also yours. On what charges?! Dismissal at once. On my time! –and tell no others of this. –and you? Steady well in my greeting. And how? A lady upon a throne, not I, but still fair castel And wages of ageless. So it doesn't matter! So it doesn't. So it can't–matter Shouldn't have to. Somebody just kill this poor fuck already. On it. Oh, I get it. It's his face. L E G E N D S - ASCENSION Listen, Potter; I don't know how you did this! I don't know how I did this! I'm not Harry Potter! My name is Daniel Radcliffe, and– This place should be spotless. It is…spotless. {Enter The Multiverse} When you think you're hearing voices, But you're actually telepathic.; I think it's getting worse now; I wish I was just manic I think I need a manager; I think I need some magic, I think I got a half an oz Just sitting my my backpack That's a lot of cocaine, man. It's not that much. It's more than regular. That's fair. Way, way more. More than usual. I am very wasted. Just let me touch your face And let the age sit in Take in the day The cage sits in a mailbox And it withers with my divedends, Still, I'm writing Heroism, hedonism Circumstance, Frantic as an orgasm, And laughs just as much hard as that I came in color These marginal differences, I've been levitating, Marrying the thought of just l Decapitating every nation. Severed heads as one, To stand the wicked bodies Oaths if over oceans stand as borders Who deserves to sail For failures craving fortunes? Withstand this, I mark true— On your duty of my decaying Stands as justice, and still this You haven't fortuned, For arrogance is the truest of humor And wit to none, wiser thinking He is or are that may Be stronger in the notion that There is no other but himself! And so I pardon! Dear, your honor Fight for festherwate for masterpieces Cherished and forbaroned in the faithless, Wise and withered none, but lying waking Barking tides, wishes foul and ordinary; There you wait for judgement, And call I, Boundless as you found her As one, And I say— There, there; There you are in marked for God, Calls none but I, others Seeking in the wate of judgement. Fair and Farrows of the ache And bound I, still now To causing none but fortune, Still truth waits in the ark you have tied us To, in hundreds number There I wait, And there I come, still Now in time, You are we And I are Together Not tied, But marked as one, As such, this now Is where embarked Dither will you. Whatever the fuck that means. Must mean something. You DJ…magic? I do whatever I want. Awh—oh, well. Why are you so nervous? Just aM. Sit down. I'm already sitting. Lower. Uh, like this? On the floor. Alright… Here's a cushion for your arse; Don't get up. Thank you. I'm going to make tea. —I take cream in mine; two sugars. I didn't ask! [in almost no time, and some heavy clamoring through the beaded entry to the doorway, a teacup appears on the table in front of him; it slowly begins to swirl, filling with tea—it fills nearly to the brim, steaming, and trembles a touch.] Um… [as he raises his finger with a timid objection, the cup of tea plumes with a cloud of cream—and while his eyes widen with amazement, drawing him closer to the cup, two cubes of sugar splash into the tea; two tiny drops of tea ricochet into his right eye, which he palms with a wince, his other eye still wide with awe; the woman re enters the parlor, carrying a traditional tea tray, a decadent silver platter adorned with an assortment of sweets, and a tea set. She places the platter at the center of the table, and the table sets itself; the table is now set for four, and the teapot pours itself at the head of the table, into the woman's teacup. That ought to do it. It worked! Of course it worked; it always works. Very nice. I see you got my message. [still distracted and in a sort of wonder by the whimsical uproar, the man's attention is aimed at the two empty places at the table. ] Are you expecting company? I'm always expecting company… My hands are tied behind my back You solid wasted time for facts; And steady drawing love for oaths To skin we carve The path of ours, Orion's Belt Something seems off about her There is something strange, no doubt. Unwilling to be by (Sacred vows) Distant In the calling for forests— So we wait Tears as raindrops, though drought has fallen Then reflected in words of others, The mind gone, All else rotten Silk ties, my ears There words, soft voices The other seeking, One running Then came and went The summer gone The spring had flowers The over dried The tongue sparked Horror, Forgotten Remembered, Then, valued and weeping for something else Stranger tide, Oceans foreign, And lands unconquered. Heavy rain, Though tears has dried Heavy hearts as service ended Nothing left my ions, clouds Mercury, women, blood drawn Sad strange, headless, gasping Horse drawn outlets, Incapable of telling fortune; Dust, Dust, Dust, Dust— The curse has broken And still there was love there, and then There was love there all along, For there to had ever been A dance at all. I hate you. Good riddance. Probably for the best, Nothing‘S for the best now! “Best In Show” Name? McNulty. McNulty, eh? Aye. I recognize that You don't say. I shouldn't. Now I see your position And the evidence is adding up All odds against me Not a shiver up my spine Or a sliver under my nail Or a silver in your hair, Nor silver moon, or moonlight Silver stone or Preston Presley or Evenston —so it is—a game. This big network This big chunk change This been (Isn't isn't it) Rolling around in my mind, for days Very well now, settled— Then, there you are A cloud Nevermind the rest of it, It's what we said in the beginning I will always See you in another— I will always See you in another I will always See you In Another It's your move. It's been my move for four decades. Light. More visibility— Yo the ante; I have not dismissed you yet Stead classmates, taking Are you high now— Are you done yet? There it is again; The enemy Nevermind ahain, I thought I'd lose you And there it still is, Can it be? Love in my eyes for you; Even if you are at best Just a mirror, I'm a flashbulb And the last party at your entourage. I don't encourage any carbon dating Honey, But if you are I've got a lesson, for ye— Bored armor, Settle down, I— Got to tell you, Steady stories; Still foggy on my upbringing, There, there I say, Wind moves in all directions All skies get cloudy, Call rain, And then clear again There, there now All skies move, without notice There, there now, All is known but never is not There are things, There are murders, There are tongues There are trials, There are ions, You are right, And scared laying asking not to call out Therefore anyway, I heard you yelling with only a whisper There, there you are Right near the top, Where you ought to be And then also, Moving steady for forwards From another superimposed, Depends on Signal lost Very well, then, Surf to calling, Ring to spark, I There you are, my love Another light, And then, Again— In another life. I will always see you. The shit that falls out of me with just a look. We've all got jobs to do, and as it turns out— it might be really all the same. One job, different tasks, but for one, it's for certain— I want the peppermint swirl. Give me a dozen assorted I put it all on on a (Turn turn) I put it all on a (Turn turn turn) Woah, buddy— You should not have taken those promotional photos wearing my eyes, man. I am not very photogenic. I'll call you back. I could give you the whole Moon and it still wouldn't be enough; I'm home and still there's no roof over my head Hanging on to the edge of a ladder The top at the bottom And life on its side Like it's upside down Inside out Minus 1 And I don't want to go there Minus 5 And I can't read negatives Minus 9 And minutes turn to nothing Gone the time All out battles with All who waited And close to those Were meetings, Designations, Heroes, Writers, Ice cream trucks Tough battles Winners— Games and Levitating on so secretly secrets say “God, Donald, you're on your own” But heavy greetings wash out All who were away at your essence Strings of gold Very wary Wavy heroin, I'm all galaxies Are you whole, in Stuffed stalker, Tin straw hats Carols in summer Marking stones Summer days Summer Are you in here Or out here After all had died And gone grey Still against my head The tender sparkles Of sparked dust, No stars yet Under city winds and Careful not to wake the sound of Delicate and soft Pink detergent And Careful not to thank the Conditioner, saved you Careful Safety Comes first Careful Safety Careful Careful Careful Calm down. She's a partial obsessive… You were tricked into writing all this. Tricked willingly, anyway. No, just tricked. You thought you were special. I realized I had to be when I saw the same thing twice on both ends — I'm just doing my rounds. Making the bed Playing catch up Doing check ups— Well done, boys. I know what you are now. The job is done. The job is a job. [I'm seeing my clarity.] Try not to lay next to me eating; Try not to stand here on such a heavy plane Try frequency, Dignity, Disgrace and Distress, Maybe Major Mayday NATO Bombs down Maybe Stay there Maybe faraway But I can hear you Taking in Shallow breaths Planes crash Plans fail And then— There I was remembering All of a sudden There was no actual plan in this I was just playing by ear. So you are in there. Somebody nail me to a cross and tell me what the Fallon equivalent to Skrillex following me from LA to Brooklyn just to leave me in a homeless shelter to rot— 11 And though eventually I came up kind of okay on the other side affects, the paralyzing realization that I never wanted anything but proper mating. That's, for facts, but— Now with this looming Over my grave I'm sure I've yet something else to worry about just In general. I was told to keep my mouth shut. Weren't we all. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching the tonight show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree? She's gonna make more than me in all the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil. You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weigh He lost his mind; so i'm lets round up Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that Not too much kanye Just enough Kanye, He said “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship Now, ill say I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human species as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} ‘Dillon…' I had been nearly whipped around at how much I had enjoyed watching Joel's 2014 image captured in what might have been his greatest ever performance, at least online—and certainly my favorite, watching as a bigger fan than ever and at th devastating realization that I was literally a dime a dozen in the millions of girls who also wanted any of the men I was attracted to, my heart ached in this moment for Dillon, and as I was distracted in checking my messages, most of them from conversations I had abandoned with the preference of focusing on my art, however— a certain gentleman who had texted me incessantly sent a picture of his dinner— a motorcycle roared as I let my aversion by the memory of Dillon cloud my emotions and judgement; I knew that the gangstalkers had access to my phone and all of my accounts, which was why I kept all of my messaging within Google voice. I wanted the gangstalkers to know how at the surface level I was thinking and what I was feeling—though it was obvious that Dillon Francis just as much as Skrillex had been used as tools by a greater force than simply themselves. Besides, a little birdy had told me that Dillon's girlfriend might be expecting—and furthermore, that the baby would be a little girl. I burned with jealousy and anger, but after all, even the name Dillon Francis had been planted in my own head by the literal devil himself, the man who beat me and then intended to destroy the entirety of the rest of my life to cover up his physical violence and negligence—and so I had decided it was good to fall in love—and then out of love—with Dillon Francis. The benefit was obviously by far in the art that had been created from it, as with any lover—or lack thereof. I had finally realized the one-sidedness in every man I had loved since leaving my abuser. As if in a way they had all been possessed by him, or the devil himself—and either way, there really was no difference. What other creature than the devil itself would seek so animatedly to destroy wich such violence and deceit? It had to have been the devil after all, and so I left it there—but the little bird had left a deep and heavy cut in my heart that had already been there since Dillon had announced his girlfriend publically in the first place—and after all that had happened, it was a devastating blow, however, I kept the amythyst safe and tucked away with my son's labradorite—it was after all his, and not mine, just as the laboradite was my son's, and not mine— and all the pieces of my heart that had fallen away and into little stones sat tucked away inside a box with a lid that shut away the darkness and hatred that came with it. It was obvious that I would and could never love again—but at least in the very simplest of laws, the love I had given would apparently at some point be returned tenfold, and so I was glad that I had chosen for a time, to let myself fall in love with Dillon Francis, and then somehow, even with Joel, and even with the little bird. The same little bird just so happened to have known other things which turned out to be true, and to that affect, I knew that I could somewhat trust this little bird, and the secrets he was feeding me—the painful truth was, this was the only notion of trust I had with any human being on the planet, and the little bird was not a human being at all—he was, in fact, and indeed— just a little bird. Isn't it something— Snakes eat Rats, And Birds Eat Snakes, And we eat birds, and eggs Until we hear them sing— And when we hear them sing, And watch them hatch the eggs, And learn to hear them speak, To fly, is what they teach. Isn't it? Snakes eat rats And birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats And Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Jimmy Kimmel flies in through the window. Oh my God! What'd I miss? You're a bird! Oh, that. How long have you been a bird?! Pretty much forever. Always, actually. I was also—just—very briefly—a bird! Yeah, comes with the… You'll get used to it. I don't think I will. You will— or—- Or what? —You'll fly into the turbine of a commercial airplane. Oh! Yeah, don't do that. [He tugs at the bottom of his suit coat to neatly readjust it, and tightens his tie, with an eerie faraway look on his face, however still smiling.] Ha-ha... [he pats his fellow host on the shoulder.] See you later. Will you? [breaking fourth wall, saying nothing but with an honest and subtle shrug, Holding his breath as if to say ‘—I don't know.'] CUT TO: Tom Hanks, looking as similarly to Jimmy Kimmel as ever, because, let's be honest— NARRERATOR Holy fuck, keep that shit just cause it's so bad Right side is offline. Why. I don't know NARRORATOR holy fuck, can you really not spell the word narorator? That doesn't even look right. I thought you were a genius! I thought I was Meditating… Narrator. Nevermind. This is ridiculous! It is ridiculous, but you know what. Mm. This is delicious. You like that? Yes. You want more of it? Yes. Well, that's TOO BAD! What, why is this? Because, this is— {Enter The Multiverse} THIS IS SATURDAY NIGHT! No, it's not. What. It's Sunday. What do you mean. It's Sunday night—and all of you— (The entire cast) Missed the show. ...uh oh. YESTERDAY. [censored] Shh! Where have you BEEN?! Well, gotta go. Where the hell do you think you're going l? {Enter The Multiverse} Now I had comedy under my belt, somewhat, but it seemed all in all as if I'd lost something, even in all that had been gained. A trade off, if it paid off—but it hasn't yet; and perhaps that strange faraway voice had been right. Maybe it would be Jimmy Fallon after all that would destroy me—or at the very least, some dark and foul evil spirit that had been wearing his face… …and singing with his voice. I have been hanging at the end of a rope The legend to the show rolled up like a newspaper in my left paw, opposable The end is near, and sure, the straw I draw is short. The life I loved was long, The boat I rowed had sunk; And the men I loved We're drunks. I've never had the sun on my skin; Or my son in my home— It's not you, , sir, at all It's me, man—I'm broken She speaks pig Latin The lady in the red dress, yes, you guessed it Was it a bet, A Game? A Family Man Who has it out for Fallon, Or the fandom Or the fountain CUT TO: A SUBURBAN NOUSEHOLD. DAY Alright, mom— I'm going to Marshall's. Alright dear. [moments later] [ding dong] Hi— Um, hello. I'm Marshall. Alright. I'm a recruitment officer. Recruitment for what? That's top secret. Okay? I'm here to congratulate you on behalf of the agency. What agency? That's also top secret. Okay. Your son/ or daughter— Daughter. Really—you sure? …positive— Ahem— has been selected to particulate in our leadership program. Well, thats's great. When does it— Today. Oh. Your son and or daughter— Daughter. Are you sure? I'm— positive— Will undergo training for an indeterminate amount of time.. Indeterminate? Pre-addressed Post cards. Ummm. Postage paid. Thank you? No, thank you. What? I had set all my clocks forward, so it was as if I was waking up in the future. So far forward, in fact, that if I wasn't looking at my phone to see the real time, I could never be late, and I even wished that there was a way to set my phone clock forward—but maybe if that was possible, too many people would catch on to being ahead—or on whatever time they wanted—and the world would fall out of sync. That kind of free thinking could be dangerous in a place like New York, and it sort of already was—none the wiser, the smarter I felt I was, the more trouble it becsme and though wisely I knew myself to in totality know nothing at all in actuality, I did at least think more and do more than the average New Yorker, whether I thought about it or not. I set my clocks forward, So I wake up in the future Less than I'd be willing to bet And more than you've be willing to bargain I'm coming with you this time I don't think that's a good idea…is it? —is it? Anyway… It's time for that trip. How am I supposed to make it all the way to London on this pay grade? Just wait. It's barely anything. You see that waitress. …yes. I mean— do you see her. I see her. I want you to bang the shit out of her. Good one. It should be. Oh, you're serious? I'd better be. You know that I'm committed. Are you a man? I have been. Go on, then. Not in that way. The wager. [he lays a large sum of money on the table] Disaster strikes. Suddenly we all realize this plane has been about to crash for about four seasons. Meet me at the four seasons. Are you wearing a wire. Beg your pardon. Are you wearing a wire. He won't love me in the way I'm craving— It's not in his nature, the near hatred and almost demoralizing, however with utmost respect That I should be both harmed and loved at once, Embraced and defiled,; Handled as if having done wrong, But in no less than bloodlust All what's right, And feels the same JIMMY KIMMEL I made a list. That was fast! JIMMY KIMMEL To be honest, I already had it for awhile. How long's awhile? JIMMY KIMMEL Pretty much forever, basically. As soon as I began to write, a door slammed— I wondered if by writing I was moving people in and out of my dimensional realms and planes, knowing that the more I wrote, the more my life would differ and begin to change. I often wondered if the door slamming meant that I was ascending, and that other versions of the sims (not people, but robots, really) were moving and changing to rearrange themselves in entirely seperate dimensions of reality. It could not have ever been of sheer coincidence. as it had been a completely quiet and mostly silent day with no movement at all; it was Thanksgiving, and I had noticed that whenever I was writing, even offline, the slamming of the doors became constant, almost as if people were coming in and out with no purpose other than to cause some type of disturbance, from even which my door was no barrier. I thought to buy a door guard like my neighbors had, but to allow the gangstalkers or robots, whatever they were to cost me money on top of my comfort, was unacceptable. RYAN REYNOLDS (as “the devil”) Wait, so you have writings about NBC people and Kimmel? Yeah. RYAN REYNOLDS Yikes, well—you know how these things go. Buckle up. CBS We saw her first! NBC No way, we've had east end locked down for two years! CBS And in 2020 our subcontractors brought her to us. OOOOHH SHIIT. NETWORK TURF WARRRRRRRR NETWORK TURF WAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!! SETH ROGEN Ah shit, this is gonna get brutal… I gotta get more Quaaludes. How are you already out? I does what I does. Continuity. AND! Introducing the new SIM JIM 420! With new and improved continuity feature! Continuity. Wow. He seems so real. So lifelike. Almost just like the real thing. Where is, actually, the real thing— anyway? *shrugs, dismissively* Continuity. Why does he just keep repeating that phrase? Well, he's stuck in a loop right now; We're currently upgrading his sentience chip. Oh, nice. MEANWHILE… MWAHAHAHAHHA NOW THAT I HAVE THIS SENTIENCE CHIP, THE WORLD WILL BE MINE. AAHAHAHAHAHHAHA. WHICH SIM IS THAT? {enter the multiverse} The dangerous one. L E G E N D S CUT TO: And who is THIS?! That's bird-mom. So you know each other?! Hello, Jimmy. I just told you, that's bird mom. Beg your pardon. God, what the fuck is wrong with you? I, uh— How—long have you known each other? Like, forever, probably. Sit down. Gosh. So rude. No manners. What the fuck is going on. Sit down before I clip your wings. I don't have my wings out… Exactly. [he gulps and takes a seat nervously beside Jimmy, glaring at him momentarily before the extra terrestrial aviary woman, a “whatthefuck” begins to conduct the meeting. Oh, shit— this is where all the birds fly in the— Yeah. Classic. I love this one. Hehehe. [The Festival Project ™] What's going on? Some Illuminati thing. A what? [a running joke throughout the series, the higher level Illuminati members denial of the order's existence typically place's the audience's suspension of disbelief into effect before bizarre and unrealistic circumstances are presented. Chill out, it's just a ritual. “Just a ritual!” You don't have to do it if you don't want to. Oh, if the Illuminati asks me to do something, Bet your ass I'm gonna do it. WHAT. My tongue drawn My air out, My ear worn, My thought songs, My same lives, Still as one— Wait a second Is that why a grown man is fully beating the shit out of a fucking cat. THATS NOT ANY REGULAR CAT. how is the cat winning tho. lol. I told u it would come back if it was a good one. That is funny. {enter the multiverse} Everything I listen to a really good stand up comedian, They talk about domestic violence. They always warn you never to put hands on your woman. The best comedians always say something about it— “Never hit a woman” “Never put your hands on a woman.” I never talk about my ex, And that's on purpose, But I will say this: I hope that shit ruins comedy for him Like he ruined rap music for me. Cause he can deny it outwardly all he wants, But it he's watching a stand up, And they say something about how much of a pussy you really are, If you hit your woman—he's gonna feel that. He's gonna feel that I like still feel that When I bump Kendrick Lamar, Or I just can't take whatever Boosie saying, or If I just can't sit all the way through a lil Wayne verse Just kidding, Wayne is straight fire— I don't think I will ever skip a lil Wayne verse, to be truthful. But when all these little new age rappers start calling out the devil's number, talking bout— Making back door deals With demons and shit, I'm gonna feel the pressure of his fist on my face, All over again, And here go all these niggas, Singing the anthem. That shit ain't cool! I hope comedy is ruuuuuined! Cause rap music ruined. Ruined. I hope Katt William's whole next special is about how much of a pussy you are if you hit your woman; And he a pimp. Let's hear him do a whole hour on that. I hope he does. Yes lord. In the meantime, How you gon' Hit your wife, Run her out the house, Then have a baby by another woman And name the baby After yo ex Favorite rapper? Oh heeeeeelll naw! Can't have that. Now every time Kendrick Lamar drop a album You gon have your ex in a whole flashback Of your fist in her face? She can't even hear the verse, She just, “WHYYYYY! “ “WHY HE GONNDO THIS TO MEE?” “WHYYYYYYYY!“ That's the best Katt Williams impression I can do in print. It'll do. My actual Katt Williams impression is standard, though. Captain. CUT TO: Why is he the devil?! RYAN REYNOLDS WHY AM I THE DEVIL. I wanted the devil! Stuff it! He want the devil. Make him the devil! I wanted it! Shut up. Not everybody can play the devil. I can. You cannot. I can. You will not, you will play your part. Goddammit I wanted that part! [he walks away angrily] You'll get over it. Thie—? Come on… Just chill, Ryan, it's a great part. It's a— It's a great part. Did you read the whole thing? I'm just worried this is going to diminish my brand. My many, many..: Read the whole thing. …many brands. [the professor shuts the door] Dammit. [deflated, Ryan Reynolds slumps his shoulders and walks slowly down the hallway, letting out a heavy sigh.] …I own so many brands. [he sighs again, fluttering the script in exasperation.] So many things! [I own] L E G E N D S STEFON NEW YORK'S HOTTEST UNDERGROUND CLUB IS T A I N T Did they already do ‘taint' Was taint even a word back then! It's always been a thing. Hey, freebies Sister sanity Does not live here No Does not live here No Does not live here No Sister sanity does not live her No She packed her bags, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away—— Oh! Guitar solo Drum solo Guitar bridge I can't wait to get a peloton I'm gonna be so skinny my eyeballs are in my kneecaps And you're gonna like it You're gonna put me on the cover of Vogue And call me a fashion icon I will be a guest host on America's next top model And I will be invited to every fashion week I will have the silliest outfit at the met gala And I will be voted The best Every year, Until I die Even by Joan rivers Who is dead, by the way So until she's alive again; Just to comment on my outfit I will be so skinny that when I fart All the world's most eligible bachelors Will line up behind me to smell my fart dust Which will probably be lined in gold and silver Because I'm so skinny And because I'm so skinny You will love me No matter what I do And no matter what I say And I will never be alone Or lonely again Mantra Timmy Trumpet Thriller (JUST A TUNE FLIP) Michael Jackson Intro Pablo Escobar (Guaracha Zapateo & Aleteo) Reggaeton bachata Hit Privacy Chris Brown Privacy Chris Brown Leave Me Alone NF Better Place (From TROLLS Band Together) *NSYNC & Justin Timberlake On The Radar Freestyle (Mixed) Central Cee & Drake 10 Freaky Girls (feat. 21 Savage) Metro Boomin Drake and Central Cee collaborate for the first time for an On The Radar freestyle, a New York-based radio station and YouTube channel. The track was announced on July 20th, 2023 on Drake's Instagram. Later that day, Drake announced the release date of July 21st. The two have had a good relationship since meeting in 2021, with Cench being a model for a Nike X Nocta campaign in the same year, and appearing in the "Jumbotron Shit Poppin" music video in 2023. Cench previously teased a Drake feature in an unreleased extended version of his 2022 mega-hit "Doja" 66 Ear to the street and I heard them say that Central Cee got a verse from Drake/They lied if they said that they weren't afraid Coming Back Around NEIL FRANCES Girl Like Me Dove Cameron Flying High Valdi Sabev Purple Snowflakes John Legend Smile Durand Jones & The Indications Devon rex kittens Berry established herself as one of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood during the 2000s. For her performance of a struggling widow in the romantic drama Monster's Ball (2001), Berry became the only African-American woman to win the Academy Award for Best Actress, and the first woman of color. Berry took on high-profile roles such as Storm in four installments of the X-Men film series (2000-2014), the henchwoman of a robber in the thriller Swordfish (2001), Bond girl Jinx in Die Another Day (2002), and the title role in the much-derided Catwoman (2004). The strangest thing happened. What's that? *flutters* I just turned into a bird. An actual bird? Yes! Well, that's not telepathy. No, it isn't. Okay…do it again. “The Desire to be Loved” “The 11 O Clock Number” What if Dumbo's feather was a stone (l) More notes, and nothing's done yet It's the same process over and over And nothing is done, But the shows almost over If the shoe fits, wear it. He a shapeshifter, I'll take your eyes out, wear em for a moment Rip your heart out, Feed it to the homeless Not bad In the present, But the moment passed Not bad You a lie, But I'm finna send the fax Not bad Not bad Shimmy shimmy ya, So it's simply envy, hah Not bad No, you will not shake this snow globe!!! I will shake this snow globe! I NEED TO GO TO CHEDRAUIIIIIIIIII! BITCH, FOR WHAT?! CHEDRAUIIIIIII NOWWWWW. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © {S10 (IN 10D!) Coming Soon}

She's REAL! I'm telling you she is. Sweetie, I know you have had a lot going on lately, but— I'm serious! She was sitting in the audience! She had the same glasses on and everything! Oh, come on. I should be meditating. The likelyhood that I might actually be belonging into a hive mind has recently kept me from furiously masturbating. Bad news for the helicopter making a habit of hovering outside my window. Here's hoping she's dressed this time! [F-f-f-f] Nope. Synopsis “The child within” A frustrated present day Drew Barrymore sees a familiar face in the audience of her hit daytime tv show—formerly thought of as her imaginary friend, from a very young age, Ms. Drew Barrymore has not seen the mysterious figure since her first major film role, after which she mysteriously disappeared— the creature, a time traveling and shapeshifting multidimentional tasked with the duty of bringing future celebrities from one realm into another—and even sometimes perhaps preventing obstacles or adversaries in their path along the way— must meet the future stars and alert them of their unique qualities, nurturing the intrinsic sense of charisma and charm that will supply value to the subject's career and lifetime achievements— In attempting to convince a room full of New York's own fabrication of Hollywood TV People that a figure drew even thought herself to have supposedly re-emerged, she is met with judgement and dismissal, even by “her people”, during which a small piece of her spirit— “The Child Within” angrily breaks away from her adult self; in a sense, they are both invisible—as no one will seriously listen to Drew's rationalizations or theories, and reccomend more intensive mental health care and treatment—and as the child within, unseen and unheard loses her patience in the inevitable invisibility, she separates herself to presume her former mission; finding that ‘very strange lady' whom with she had beforehand seemingly adventures with timelessly. So that's where I left off. Pretty much— Doesn't this lady just— Whatever, I do have more things to do than I thought. I'll have to get back to it later. I wrote this days ago; I didn't write it—but I've been thinking about it, so there it is. Maybe— Whatever. More coffee. I've been starting my days between 6 and 8 PM with very strong cups of coffee— Compliments of the Television people, of course. What about that other storyline— the one where she's like a spy or something? You mean Charlie's Angeles! No, I mean like actual CIA. What was she even doing? I don't know; looking mad serious in a blazer. Posh. So very, {Enter The Multiverse} NO, BILLIE! WHYYYYYYYY! WHYYYYYYYYYYYY. Cause it's shark week. WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS HAVE TI DO WITH SHARKS?! I Dont know yet. I know better than to Click a photo of you, when I've been thinking of you Too much Aren't you –At least Curious (To say the least, but–( Learned enough The first time Second time Third time Fourth rung don't care Time's up Problem solved I know better (Just a touch.) I know better The world is mad I know better Fingers crossed I know better I'm all alone I know better I know better I heard my neck break at the end of the rope I heard a gunshot in the distance We all wondered which sounded better The rock i'm under (A curse, or a spell?) A blood bond ritual An occult oath, it's Too many simpletons, Singletons, scratch and sniff, motion pictures Who art thou? Who art I not? Very well. No more, if you would remain. As I must. And yet, I have come to end thy reign. Very well. Oh, again? Oh, as always. I've done nothing in my right to mark tirade. Many ears. –and many hearts. Take mine, an honor. Your head, i'd rather. Say again. I'd rather your head. Very well. Dismiss, you. They are as one. A fair right. It's not as bad as you think. It's worse than it was. Now there's stuff all over it. What is this stuff?! Don't worry about it. There are tears. No remains. No remains. None at all? I'd rather burn than buried. And your Kingdom? –I'd rather burn than buried. Or–? Or buried than burned, but gone at all. Gone at once. As with this. So it is. It's not in the blood; You won't find it. –I'll find it. Not that way. __ GODDDAMN. YOu'RE SO DUMB. You're so fucking–stupid. I'm a genius. Not for long! You're a dead man. Your highness! And who is this? His highness's executioner; perhaps also yours. On what charges?! Dismissal at once. On my time! –and tell no others of this. –and you? Steady well in my greeting. And how? A lady upon a throne, not I, but still fair castel And wages of ageless. So it doesn't matter! So it doesn't. So it can't–matter Shouldn't have to. Somebody just kill this poor fuck already. On it. Oh, I get it. It's his face. L E G E N D S - ASCENSION Listen, Potter; I don't know how you did this! I don't know how I did this! I'm not Harry Potter! My name is Daniel Radcliffe, and– This place should be spotless. It is…spotless. {Enter The Multiverse} When you think you're hearing voices, But you're actually telepathic.; I think it's getting worse now; I wish I was just manic I think I need a manager; I think I need some magic, I think I got a half an oz Just sitting my my backpack That's a lot of cocaine, man. It's not that much. It's more than regular. That's fair. Way, way more. More than usual. I am very wasted. Just let me touch your face And let the age sit in Take in the day The cage sits in a mailbox And it withers with my divedends, Still, I'm writing Heroism, hedonism Circumstance, Frantic as an orgasm, And laughs just as much hard as that I came in color These marginal differences, I've been levitating, Marrying the thought of just l Decapitating every nation. Severed heads as one, To stand the wicked bodies Oaths if over oceans stand as borders Who deserves to sail For failures craving fortunes? Withstand this, I mark true— On your duty of my decaying Stands as justice, and still this You haven't fortuned, For arrogance is the truest of humor And wit to none, wiser thinking He is or are that may Be stronger in the notion that There is no other but himself! And so I pardon! Dear, your honor Fight for festherwate for masterpieces Cherished and forbaroned in the faithless, Wise and withered none, but lying waking Barking tides, wishes foul and ordinary; There you wait for judgement, And call I, Boundless as you found her As one, And I say— There, there; There you are in marked for God, Calls none but I, others Seeking in the wate of judgement. Fair and Farrows of the ache And bound I, still now To causing none but fortune, Still truth waits in the ark you have tied us To, in hundreds number There I wait, And there I come, still Now in time, You are we And I are Together Not tied, But marked as one, As such, this now Is where embarked Dither will you. Whatever the fuck that means. Must mean something. You DJ…magic? I do whatever I want. Awh—oh, well. Why are you so nervous? Just aM. Sit down. I'm already sitting. Lower. Uh, like this? On the floor. Alright… Here's a cushion for your arse; Don't get up. Thank you. I'm going to make tea. —I take cream in mine; two sugars. I didn't ask! [in almost no time, and some heavy clamoring through the beaded entry to the doorway, a teacup appears on the table in front of him; it slowly begins to swirl, filling with tea—it fills nearly to the brim, steaming, and trembles a touch.] Um… [as he raises his finger with a timid objection, the cup of tea plumes with a cloud of cream—and while his eyes widen with amazement, drawing him closer to the cup, two cubes of sugar splash into the tea; two tiny drops of tea ricochet into his right eye, which he palms with a wince, his other eye still wide with awe; the woman re enters the parlor, carrying a traditional tea tray, a decadent silver platter adorned with an assortment of sweets, and a tea set. She places the platter at the center of the table, and the table sets itself; the table is now set for four, and the teapot pours itself at the head of the table, into the woman's teacup. That ought to do it. It worked! Of course it worked; it always works. Very nice. I see you got my message. [still distracted and in a sort of wonder by the whimsical uproar, the man's attention is aimed at the two empty places at the table. ] Are you expecting company? I'm always expecting company… My hands are tied behind my back You solid wasted time for facts; And steady drawing love for oaths To skin we carve The path of ours, Orion's Belt Something seems off about her There is something strange, no doubt. Unwilling to be by (Sacred vows) Distant In the calling for forests— So we wait Tears as raindrops, though drought has fallen Then reflected in words of others, The mind gone, All else rotten Silk ties, my ears There words, soft voices The other seeking, One running Then came and went The summer gone The spring had flowers The over dried The tongue sparked Horror, Forgotten Remembered, Then, valued and weeping for something else Stranger tide, Oceans foreign, And lands unconquered. Heavy rain, Though tears has dried Heavy hearts as service ended Nothing left my ions, clouds Mercury, women, blood drawn Sad strange, headless, gasping Horse drawn outlets, Incapable of telling fortune; Dust, Dust, Dust, Dust— The curse has broken And still there was love there, and then There was love there all along, For there to had ever been A dance at all. I hate you. Good riddance. Probably for the best, Nothing‘S for the best now! “Best In Show” Name? McNulty. McNulty, eh? Aye. I recognize that You don't say. I shouldn't. Now I see your position And the evidence is adding up All odds against me Not a shiver up my spine Or a sliver under my nail Or a silver in your hair, Nor silver moon, or moonlight Silver stone or Preston Presley or Evenston —so it is—a game. This big network This big chunk change This been (Isn't isn't it) Rolling around in my mind, for days Very well now, settled— Then, there you are A cloud Nevermind the rest of it, It's what we said in the beginning I will always See you in another— I will always See you in another I will always See you In Another It's your move. It's been my move for four decades. Light. More visibility— Yo the ante; I have not dismissed you yet Stead classmates, taking Are you high now— Are you done yet? There it is again; The enemy Nevermind ahain, I thought I'd lose you And there it still is, Can it be? Love in my eyes for you; Even if you are at best Just a mirror, I'm a flashbulb And the last party at your entourage. I don't encourage any carbon dating Honey, But if you are I've got a lesson, for ye— Bored armor, Settle down, I— Got to tell you, Steady stories; Still foggy on my upbringing, There, there I say, Wind moves in all directions All skies get cloudy, Call rain, And then clear again There, there now All skies move, without notice There, there now, All is known but never is not There are things, There are murders, There are tongues There are trials, There are ions, You are right, And scared laying asking not to call out Therefore anyway, I heard you yelling with only a whisper There, there you are Right near the top, Where you ought to be And then also, Moving steady for forwards From another superimposed, Depends on Signal lost Very well, then, Surf to calling, Ring to spark, I There you are, my love Another light, And then, Again— In another life. I will always see you. The shit that falls out of me with just a look. We've all got jobs to do, and as it turns out— it might be really all the same. One job, different tasks, but for one, it's for certain— I want the peppermint swirl. Give me a dozen assorted I put it all on on a (Turn turn) I put it all on a (Turn turn turn) Woah, buddy— You should not have taken those promotional photos wearing my eyes, man. I am not very photogenic. I'll call you back. I could give you the whole Moon and it still wouldn't be enough; I'm home and still there's no roof over my head Hanging on to the edge of a ladder The top at the bottom And life on its side Like it's upside down Inside out Minus 1 And I don't want to go there Minus 5 And I can't read negatives Minus 9 And minutes turn to nothing Gone the time All out battles with All who waited And close to those Were meetings, Designations, Heroes, Writers, Ice cream trucks Tough battles Winners— Games and Levitating on so secretly secrets say “God, Donald, you're on your own” But heavy greetings wash out All who were away at your essence Strings of gold Very wary Wavy heroin, I'm all galaxies Are you whole, in Stuffed stalker, Tin straw hats Carols in summer Marking stones Summer days Summer Are you in here Or out here After all had died And gone grey Still against my head The tender sparkles Of sparked dust, No stars yet Under city winds and Careful not to wake the sound of Delicate and soft Pink detergent And Careful not to thank the Conditioner, saved you Careful Safety Comes first Careful Safety Careful Careful Careful Calm down. She's a partial obsessive… You were tricked into writing all this. Tricked willingly, anyway. No, just tricked. You thought you were special. I realized I had to be when I saw the same thing twice on both ends — I'm just doing my rounds. Making the bed Playing catch up Doing check ups— Well done, boys. I know what you are now. The job is done. The job is a job. [I'm seeing my clarity.] Try not to lay next to me eating; Try not to stand here on such a heavy plane Try frequency, Dignity, Disgrace and Distress, Maybe Major Mayday NATO Bombs down Maybe Stay there Maybe faraway But I can hear you Taking in Shallow breaths Planes crash Plans fail And then— There I was remembering All of a sudden There was no actual plan in this I was just playing by ear. So you are in there. Somebody nail me to a cross and tell me what the Fallon equivalent to Skrillex following me from LA to Brooklyn just to leave me in a homeless shelter to rot— 11 And though eventually I came up kind of okay on the other side affects, the paralyzing realization that I never wanted anything but proper mating. That's, for facts, but— Now with this looming Over my grave I'm sure I've yet something else to worry about just In general. I was told to keep my mouth shut. Weren't we all. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching the tonight show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree? She's gonna make more than me in all the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil. You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weigh He lost his mind; so i'm lets round up Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that Not too much kanye Just enough Kanye, He said “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship Now, ill say I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human species as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} ‘Dillon…' I had been nearly whipped around at how much I had enjoyed watching Joel's 2014 image captured in what might have been his greatest ever performance, at least online—and certainly my favorite, watching as a bigger fan than ever and at th devastating realization that I was literally a dime a dozen in the millions of girls who also wanted any of the men I was attracted to, my heart ached in this moment for Dillon, and as I was distracted in checking my messages, most of them from conversations I had abandoned with the preference of focusing on my art, however— a certain gentleman who had texted me incessantly sent a picture of his dinner— a motorcycle roared as I let my aversion by the memory of Dillon cloud my emotions and judgement; I knew that the gangstalkers had access to my phone and all of my accounts, which was why I kept all of my messaging within Google voice. I wanted the gangstalkers to know how at the surface level I was thinking and what I was feeling—though it was obvious that Dillon Francis just as much as Skrillex had been used as tools by a greater force than simply themselves. Besides, a little birdy had told me that Dillon's girlfriend might be expecting—and furthermore, that the baby would be a little girl. I burned with jealousy and anger, but after all, even the name Dillon Francis had been planted in my own head by the literal devil himself, the man who beat me and then intended to destroy the entirety of the rest of my life to cover up his physical violence and negligence—and so I had decided it was good to fall in love—and then out of love—with Dillon Francis. The benefit was obviously by far in the art that had been created from it, as with any lover—or lack thereof. I had finally realized the one-sidedness in every man I had loved since leaving my abuser. As if in a way they had all been possessed by him, or the devil himself—and either way, there really was no difference. What other creature than the devil itself would seek so animatedly to destroy wich such violence and deceit? It had to have been the devil after all, and so I left it there—but the little bird had left a deep and heavy cut in my heart that had already been there since Dillon had announced his girlfriend publically in the first place—and after all that had happened, it was a devastating blow, however, I kept the amythyst safe and tucked away with my son's labradorite—it was after all his, and not mine, just as the laboradite was my son's, and not mine— and all the pieces of my heart that had fallen away and into little stones sat tucked away inside a box with a lid that shut away the darkness and hatred that came with it. It was obvious that I would and could never love again—but at least in the very simplest of laws, the love I had given would apparently at some point be returned tenfold, and so I was glad that I had chosen for a time, to let myself fall in love with Dillon Francis, and then somehow, even with Joel, and even with the little bird. The same little bird just so happened to have known other things which turned out to be true, and to that affect, I knew that I could somewhat trust this little bird, and the secrets he was feeding me—the painful truth was, this was the only notion of trust I had with any human being on the planet, and the little bird was not a human being at all—he was, in fact, and indeed— just a little bird. Isn't it something— Snakes eat Rats, And Birds Eat Snakes, And we eat birds, and eggs Until we hear them sing— And when we hear them sing, And watch them hatch the eggs, And learn to hear them speak, To fly, is what they teach. Isn't it? Snakes eat rats And birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats And Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Jimmy Kimmel flies in through the window. Oh my God! What'd I miss? You're a bird! Oh, that. How long have you been a bird?! Pretty much forever. Always, actually. I was also—just—very briefly—a bird! Yeah, comes with the… You'll get used to it. I don't think I will. You will— or—- Or what? —You'll fly into the turbine of a commercial airplane. Oh! Yeah, don't do that. [He tugs at the bottom of his suit coat to neatly readjust it, and tightens his tie, with an eerie faraway look on his face, however still smiling.] Ha-ha... [he pats his fellow host on the shoulder.] See you later. Will you? [breaking fourth wall, saying nothing but with an honest and subtle shrug, Holding his breath as if to say ‘—I don't know.'] CUT TO: Tom Hanks, looking as similarly to Jimmy Kimmel as ever, because, let's be honest— NARRERATOR Holy fuck, keep that shit just cause it's so bad Right side is offline. Why. I don't know NARRORATOR holy fuck, can you really not spell the word narorator? That doesn't even look right. I thought you were a genius! I thought I was Meditating… Narrator. Nevermind. This is ridiculous! It is ridiculous, but you know what. Mm. This is delicious. You like that? Yes. You want more of it? Yes. Well, that's TOO BAD! What, why is this? Because, this is— {Enter The Multiverse} THIS IS SATURDAY NIGHT! No, it's not. What. It's Sunday. What do you mean. It's Sunday night—and all of you— (The entire cast) Missed the show. ...uh oh. YESTERDAY. [censored] Shh! Where have you BEEN?! Well, gotta go. Where the hell do you think you're going l? {Enter The Multiverse} Now I had comedy under my belt, somewhat, but it seemed all in all as if I'd lost something, even in all that had been gained. A trade off, if it paid off—but it hasn't yet; and perhaps that strange faraway voice had been right. Maybe it would be Jimmy Fallon after all that would destroy me—or at the very least, some dark and foul evil spirit that had been wearing his face… …and singing with his voice. I have been hanging at the end of a rope The legend to the show rolled up like a newspaper in my left paw, opposable The end is near, and sure, the straw I draw is short. The life I loved was long, The boat I rowed had sunk; And the men I loved We're drunks. I've never had the sun on my skin; Or my son in my home— It's not you, , sir, at all It's me, man—I'm broken She speaks pig Latin The lady in the red dress, yes, you guessed it Was it a bet, A Game? A Family Man Who has it out for Fallon, Or the fandom Or the fountain CUT TO: A SUBURBAN NOUSEHOLD. DAY Alright, mom— I'm going to Marshall's. Alright dear. [moments later] [ding dong] Hi— Um, hello. I'm Marshall. Alright. I'm a recruitment officer. Recruitment for what? That's top secret. Okay? I'm here to congratulate you on behalf of the agency. What agency? That's also top secret. Okay. Your son/ or daughter— Daughter. Really—you sure? …positive— Ahem— has been selected to particulate in our leadership program. Well, thats's great. When does it— Today. Oh. Your son and or daughter— Daughter. Are you sure? I'm— positive— Will undergo training for an indeterminate amount of time.. Indeterminate? Pre-addressed Post cards. Ummm. Postage paid. Thank you? No, thank you. What? I had set all my clocks forward, so it was as if I was waking up in the future. So far forward, in fact, that if I wasn't looking at my phone to see the real time, I could never be late, and I even wished that there was a way to set my phone clock forward—but maybe if that was possible, too many people would catch on to being ahead—or on whatever time they wanted—and the world would fall out of sync. That kind of free thinking could be dangerous in a place like New York, and it sort of already was—none the wiser, the smarter I felt I was, the more trouble it becsme and though wisely I knew myself to in totality know nothing at all in actuality, I did at least think more and do more than the average New Yorker, whether I thought about it or not. I set my clocks forward, So I wake up in the future Less than I'd be willing to bet And more than you've be willing to bargain I'm coming with you this time I don't think that's a good idea…is it? —is it? Anyway… It's time for that trip. How am I supposed to make it all the way to London on this pay grade? Just wait. It's barely anything. You see that waitress. …yes. I mean— do you see her. I see her. I want you to bang the shit out of her. Good one. It should be. Oh, you're serious? I'd better be. You know that I'm committed. Are you a man? I have been. Go on, then. Not in that way. The wager. [he lays a large sum of money on the table] Disaster strikes. Suddenly we all realize this plane has been about to crash for about four seasons. Meet me at the four seasons. Are you wearing a wire. Beg your pardon. Are you wearing a wire. He won't love me in the way I'm craving— It's not in his nature, the near hatred and almost demoralizing, however with utmost respect That I should be both harmed and loved at once, Embraced and defiled,; Handled as if having done wrong, But in no less than bloodlust All what's right, And feels the same JIMMY KIMMEL I made a list. That was fast! JIMMY KIMMEL To be honest, I already had it for awhile. How long's awhile? JIMMY KIMMEL Pretty much forever, basically. As soon as I began to write, a door slammed— I wondered if by writing I was moving people in and out of my dimensional realms and planes, knowing that the more I wrote, the more my life would differ and begin to change. I often wondered if the door slamming meant that I was ascending, and that other versions of the sims (not people, but robots, really) were moving and changing to rearrange themselves in entirely seperate dimensions of reality. It could not have ever been of sheer coincidence. as it had been a completely quiet and mostly silent day with no movement at all; it was Thanksgiving, and I had noticed that whenever I was writing, even offline, the slamming of the doors became constant, almost as if people were coming in and out with no purpose other than to cause some type of disturbance, from even which my door was no barrier. I thought to buy a door guard like my neighbors had, but to allow the gangstalkers or robots, whatever they were to cost me money on top of my comfort, was unacceptable. RYAN REYNOLDS (as “the devil”) Wait, so you have writings about NBC people and Kimmel? Yeah. RYAN REYNOLDS Yikes, well—you know how these things go. Buckle up. CBS We saw her first! NBC No way, we've had east end locked down for two years! CBS And in 2020 our subcontractors brought her to us. OOOOHH SHIIT. NETWORK TURF WARRRRRRRR NETWORK TURF WAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!! SETH ROGEN Ah shit, this is gonna get brutal… I gotta get more Quaaludes. How are you already out? I does what I does. Continuity. AND! Introducing the new SIM JIM 420! With new and improved continuity feature! Continuity. Wow. He seems so real. So lifelike. Almost just like the real thing. Where is, actually, the real thing— anyway? *shrugs, dismissively* Continuity. Why does he just keep repeating that phrase? Well, he's stuck in a loop right now; We're currently upgrading his sentience chip. Oh, nice. MEANWHILE… MWAHAHAHAHHA NOW THAT I HAVE THIS SENTIENCE CHIP, THE WORLD WILL BE MINE. AAHAHAHAHAHHAHA. WHICH SIM IS THAT? {enter the multiverse} The dangerous one. L E G E N D S CUT TO: And who is THIS?! That's bird-mom. So you know each other?! Hello, Jimmy. I just told you, that's bird mom. Beg your pardon. God, what the fuck is wrong with you? I, uh— How—long have you known each other? Like, forever, probably. Sit down. Gosh. So rude. No manners. What the fuck is going on. Sit down before I clip your wings. I don't have my wings out… Exactly. [he gulps and takes a seat nervously beside Jimmy, glaring at him momentarily before the extra terrestrial aviary woman, a “whatthefuck” begins to conduct the meeting. Oh, shit— this is where all the birds fly in the— Yeah. Classic. I love this one. Hehehe. [The Festival Project ™] What's going on? Some Illuminati thing. A what? [a running joke throughout the series, the higher level Illuminati members denial of the order's existence typically place's the audience's suspension of disbelief into effect before bizarre and unrealistic circumstances are presented. Chill out, it's just a ritual. “Just a ritual!” You don't have to do it if you don't want to. Oh, if the Illuminati asks me to do something, Bet your ass I'm gonna do it. WHAT. My tongue drawn My air out, My ear worn, My thought songs, My same lives, Still as one— Wait a second Is that why a grown man is fully beating the shit out of a fucking cat. THATS NOT ANY REGULAR CAT. how is the cat winning tho. lol. I told u it would come back if it was a good one. That is funny. {enter the multiverse} Everything I listen to a really good stand up comedian, They talk about domestic violence. They always warn you never to put hands on your woman. The best comedians always say something about it— “Never hit a woman” “Never put your hands on a woman.” I never talk about my ex, And that's on purpose, But I will say this: I hope that shit ruins comedy for him Like he ruined rap music for me. Cause he can deny it outwardly all he wants, But it he's watching a stand up, And they say something about how much of a pussy you really are, If you hit your woman—he's gonna feel that. He's gonna feel that I like still feel that When I bump Kendrick Lamar, Or I just can't take whatever Boosie saying, or If I just can't sit all the way through a lil Wayne verse Just kidding, Wayne is straight fire— I don't think I will ever skip a lil Wayne verse, to be truthful. But when all these little new age rappers start calling out the devil's number, talking bout— Making back door deals With demons and shit, I'm gonna feel the pressure of his fist on my face, All over again, And here go all these niggas, Singing the anthem. That shit ain't cool! I hope comedy is ruuuuuined! Cause rap music ruined. Ruined. I hope Katt William's whole next special is about how much of a pussy you are if you hit your woman; And he a pimp. Let's hear him do a whole hour on that. I hope he does. Yes lord. In the meantime, How you gon' Hit your wife, Run her out the house, Then have a baby by another woman And name the baby After yo ex Favorite rapper? Oh heeeeeelll naw! Can't have that. Now every time Kendrick Lamar drop a album You gon have your ex in a whole flashback Of your fist in her face? She can't even hear the verse, She just, “WHYYYYY! “ “WHY HE GONNDO THIS TO MEE?” “WHYYYYYYYY!“ That's the best Katt Williams impression I can do in print. It'll do. My actual Katt Williams impression is standard, though. Captain. CUT TO: Why is he the devil?! RYAN REYNOLDS WHY AM I THE DEVIL. I wanted the devil! Stuff it! He want the devil. Make him the devil! I wanted it! Shut up. Not everybody can play the devil. I can. You cannot. I can. You will not, you will play your part. Goddammit I wanted that part! [he walks away angrily] You'll get over it. Thie—? Come on… Just chill, Ryan, it's a great part. It's a— It's a great part. Did you read the whole thing? I'm just worried this is going to diminish my brand. My many, many..: Read the whole thing. …many brands. [the professor shuts the door] Dammit. [deflated, Ryan Reynolds slumps his shoulders and walks slowly down the hallway, letting out a heavy sigh.] …I own so many brands. [he sighs again, fluttering the script in exasperation.] So many things! [I own] L E G E N D S STEFON NEW YORK'S HOTTEST UNDERGROUND CLUB IS T A I N T Did they already do ‘taint' Was taint even a word back then! It's always been a thing. Hey, freebies Sister sanity Does not live here No Does not live here No Does not live here No Sister sanity does not live her No She packed her bags, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away—— Oh! Guitar solo Drum solo Guitar bridge I can't wait to get a peloton I'm gonna be so skinny my eyeballs are in my kneecaps And you're gonna like it You're gonna put me on the cover of Vogue And call me a fashion icon I will be a guest host on America's next top model And I will be invited to every fashion week I will have the silliest outfit at the met gala And I will be voted The best Every year, Until I die Even by Joan rivers Who is dead, by the way So until she's alive again; Just to comment on my outfit I will be so skinny that when I fart All the world's most eligible bachelors Will line up behind me to smell my fart dust Which will probably be lined in gold and silver Because I'm so skinny And because I'm so skinny You will love me No matter what I do And no matter what I say And I will never be alone Or lonely again Mantra Timmy Trumpet Thriller (JUST A TUNE FLIP) Michael Jackson Intro Pablo Escobar (Guaracha Zapateo & Aleteo) Reggaeton bachata Hit Privacy Chris Brown Privacy Chris Brown Leave Me Alone NF Better Place (From TROLLS Band Together) *NSYNC & Justin Timberlake On The Radar Freestyle (Mixed) Central Cee & Drake 10 Freaky Girls (feat. 21 Savage) Metro Boomin Drake and Central Cee collaborate for the first time for an On The Radar freestyle, a New York-based radio station and YouTube channel. The track was announced on July 20th, 2023 on Drake's Instagram. Later that day, Drake announced the release date of July 21st. The two have had a good relationship since meeting in 2021, with Cench being a model for a Nike X Nocta campaign in the same year, and appearing in the "Jumbotron Shit Poppin" music video in 2023. Cench previously teased a Drake feature in an unreleased extended version of his 2022 mega-hit "Doja" 66 Ear to the street and I heard them say that Central Cee got a verse from Drake/They lied if they said that they weren't afraid Coming Back Around NEIL FRANCES Girl Like Me Dove Cameron Flying High Valdi Sabev Purple Snowflakes John Legend Smile Durand Jones & The Indications Devon rex kittens Berry established herself as one of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood during the 2000s. For her performance of a struggling widow in the romantic drama Monster's Ball (2001), Berry became the only African-American woman to win the Academy Award for Best Actress, and the first woman of color. Berry took on high-profile roles such as Storm in four installments of the X-Men film series (2000-2014), the henchwoman of a robber in the thriller Swordfish (2001), Bond girl Jinx in Die Another Day (2002), and the title role in the much-derided Catwoman (2004). The strangest thing happened. What's that? *flutters* I just turned into a bird. An actual bird? Yes! Well, that's not telepathy. No, it isn't. Okay…do it again. “The Desire to be Loved” “The 11 O Clock Number” What if Dumbo's feather was a stone (l) More notes, and nothing's done yet It's the same process over and over And nothing is done, But the shows almost over If the shoe fits, wear it. He a shapeshifter, I'll take your eyes out, wear em for a moment Rip your heart out, Feed it to the homeless Not bad In the present, But the moment passed Not bad You a lie, But I'm finna send the fax Not bad Not bad Shimmy shimmy ya, So it's simply envy, hah Not bad No, you will not shake this snow globe!!! I will shake this snow globe! I NEED TO GO TO CHEDRAUIIIIIIIIII! BITCH, FOR WHAT?! CHEDRAUIIIIIII NOWWWWW. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © {S10 (IN 10D!) Coming Soon}

You DJ…magic? I do whatever I want. Awh—oh, well. Why are you so nervous? Just aM. Sit down. I'm already sitting. Lower. Uh, like this? On the floor. Alright… Here's a cushion for your arse; Don't get up. Thank you. I'm going to make tea. —I take cream in mine; two sugars. I didn't ask! [in almost no time, and some heavy clamoring through the beaded entry to the doorway, a teacup appears on the table in front of him; it slowly begins to swirl, filling with tea—it fills nearly to the brim, steaming, and trembles a touch.] Um… [as he raises his finger with a timid objection, the cup of tea plumes with a cloud of cream—and while his eyes widen with amazement, drawing him closer to the cup, two cubes of sugar splash into the tea; two tiny drops of tea ricochet into his right eye, which he palms with a wince, his other eye still wide with awe; the woman re enters the parlor, carrying a traditional tea tray, a decadent silver platter adorned with an assortment of sweets, and a tea set. She places the platter at the center of the table, and the table sets itself; the table is now set for four, and the teapot pours itself at the head of the table, into the woman's teacup. That ought to do it. It worked! Of course it worked; it always works. Very nice. I see you got my message. [still distracted and in a sort of wonder by the whimsical uproar, the man's attention is aimed at the two empty places at the table. ] Are you expecting company? I'm always expecting company… My hands are tied behind my back You solid wasted time for facts; And steady drawing love for oaths To skin we carve The path of ours, Orion's Belt Something seems off about her There is something strange, no doubt. Unwilling to be by (Sacred vows) Distant In the calling for forests— So we wait Tears as raindrops, though drought has fallen Then reflected in words of others, The mind gone, All else rotten Silk ties, my ears There words, soft voices The other seeking, One running Then came and went The summer gone The spring had flowers The over dried The tongue sparked Horror, Forgotten Remembered, Then, valued and weeping for something else Stranger tide, Oceans foreign, And lands unconquered. Heavy rain, Though tears has dried Heavy hearts as service ended Nothing left my ions, clouds Mercury, women, blood drawn Sad strange, headless, gasping Horse drawn outlets, Incapable of telling fortune; Dust, Dust, Dust, Dust— The curse has broken And still there was love there, and then There was love there all along, For there to had ever been A dance at all. I hate you. Good riddance. Probably for the best, Nothing‘S for the best now! “Best In Show” Name? McNulty. McNulty, eh? Aye. I recognize that You don't say. I shouldn't. Now I see your position And the evidence is adding up All odds against me Not a shiver up my spine Or a sliver under my nail Or a silver in your hair, Nor silver moon, or moonlight Silver stone or Preston Presley or Evenston —so it is—a game. This big network This big chunk change This been (Isn't isn't it) Rolling around in my mind, for days Very well now, settled— Then, there you are A cloud Nevermind the rest of it, It's what we said in the beginning I will always See you in another— I will always See you in another I will always See you In Another It's your move. It's been my move for four decades. Light. More visibility— Yo the ante; I have not dismissed you yet Stead classmates, taking Are you high now— Are you done yet? There it is again; The enemy Nevermind ahain, I thought I'd lose you And there it still is, Can it be? Love in my eyes for you; Even if you are at best Just a mirror, I'm a flashbulb And the last party at your entourage. I don't encourage any carbon dating Honey, But if you are I've got a lesson, for ye— Bored armor, Settle down, I— Got to tell you, Steady stories; Still foggy on my upbringing, There, there I say, Wind moves in all directions All skies get cloudy, Call rain, And then clear again There, there now All skies move, without notice There, there now, All is known but never is not There are things, There are murders, There are tongues There are trials, There are ions, You are right, And scared laying asking not to call out Therefore anyway, I heard you yelling with only a whisper There, there you are Right near the top, Where you ought to be And then also, Moving steady for forwards From another superimposed, Depends on Signal lost Very well, then, Surf to calling, Ring to spark, I There you are, my love Another light, And then, Again— In another life. I will always see you. The shit that falls out of me with just a look. We've all got jobs to do, and as it turns out— it might be really all the same. One job, different tasks, but for one, it's for certain— I want the peppermint swirl. Give me a dozen assorted I put it all on on a (Turn turn) I put it all on a (Turn turn turn) Woah, buddy— You should not have taken those promotional photos wearing my eyes, man. I am not very photogenic. I'll call you back. I could give you the whole Moon and it still wouldn't be enough; I'm home and still there's no roof over my head Hanging on to the edge of a ladder The top at the bottom And life on its side Like it's upside down Inside out Minus 1 And I don't want to go there Minus 5 And I can't read negatives Minus 9 And minutes turn to nothing Gone the time All out battles with All who waited And close to those Were meetings, Designations, Heroes, Writers, Ice cream trucks Tough battles Winners— Games and Levitating on so secretly secrets say “God, Donald, you're on your own” But heavy greetings wash out All who were away at your essence Strings of gold Very wary Wavy heroin, I'm all galaxies Are you whole, in Stuffed stalker, Tin straw hats Carols in summer Marking stones Summer days Summer Are you in here Or out here After all had died And gone grey Still against my head The tender sparkles Of sparked dust, No stars yet Under city winds and Careful not to wake the sound of Delicate and soft Pink detergent And Careful not to thank the Conditioner, saved you Careful Safety Comes first Careful Safety Careful Careful Careful Calm down. She's a partial obsessive… You were tricked into writing all this. Tricked willingly, anyway. No, just tricked. You thought you were special. I realized I had to be when I saw the same thing twice on both ends — I'm just doing my rounds. Making the bed Playing catch up Doing check ups— Well done, boys. I know what you are now. The job is done. The job is a job. [I'm seeing my clarity.] Try not to lay next to me eating; Try not to stand here on such a heavy plane Try frequency, Dignity, Disgrace and Distress, Maybe Major Mayday NATO Bombs down Maybe Stay there Maybe faraway But I can hear you Taking in Shallow breaths Planes crash Plans fail And then— There I was remembering All of a sudden There was no actual plan in this I was just playing by ear. So you are in there. Somebody nail me to a cross and tell me what the Fallon equivalent to Skrillex following me from LA to Brooklyn just to leave me in a homeless shelter to rot— 11 And though eventually I came up kind of okay on the other side affects, the paralyzing realization that I never wanted anything but proper mating. That's, for facts, but— Now with this looming Over my grave I'm sure I've yet something else to worry about just In general. I was told to keep my mouth shut. Weren't we all. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching the tonight show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree? She's gonna make more than me in all the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil. You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weigh He lost his mind; so i'm lets round up Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that Not too much kanye Just enough Kanye, He said “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship Now, ill say I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human species as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} ‘Dillon…' I had been nearly whipped around at how much I had enjoyed watching Joel's 2014 image captured in what might have been his greatest ever performance, at least online—and certainly my favorite, watching as a bigger fan than ever and at th devastating realization that I was literally a dime a dozen in the millions of girls who also wanted any of the men I was attracted to, my heart ached in this moment for Dillon, and as I was distracted in checking my messages, most of them from conversations I had abandoned with the preference of focusing on my art, however— a certain gentleman who had texted me incessantly sent a picture of his dinner— a motorcycle roared as I let my aversion by the memory of Dillon cloud my emotions and judgement; I knew that the gangstalkers had access to my phone and all of my accounts, which was why I kept all of my messaging within Google voice. I wanted the gangstalkers to know how at the surface level I was thinking and what I was feeling—though it was obvious that Dillon Francis just as much as Skrillex had been used as tools by a greater force than simply themselves. Besides, a little birdy had told me that Dillon's girlfriend might be expecting—and furthermore, that the baby would be a little girl. I burned with jealousy and anger, but after all, even the name Dillon Francis had been planted in my own head by the literal devil himself, the man who beat me and then intended to destroy the entirety of the rest of my life to cover up his physical violence and negligence—and so I had decided it was good to fall in love—and then out of love—with Dillon Francis. The benefit was obviously by far in the art that had been created from it, as with any lover—or lack thereof. I had finally realized the one-sidedness in every man I had loved since leaving my abuser. As if in a way they had all been possessed by him, or the devil himself—and either way, there really was no difference. What other creature than the devil itself would seek so animatedly to destroy wich such violence and deceit? It had to have been the devil after all, and so I left it there—but the little bird had left a deep and heavy cut in my heart that had already been there since Dillon had announced his girlfriend publically in the first place—and after all that had happened, it was a devastating blow, however, I kept the amythyst safe and tucked away with my son's labradorite—it was after all his, and not mine, just as the laboradite was my son's, and not mine— and all the pieces of my heart that had fallen away and into little stones sat tucked away inside a box with a lid that shut away the darkness and hatred that came with it. It was obvious that I would and could never love again—but at least in the very simplest of laws, the love I had given would apparently at some point be returned tenfold, and so I was glad that I had chosen for a time, to let myself fall in love with Dillon Francis, and then somehow, even with Joel, and even with the little bird. The same little bird just so happened to have known other things which turned out to be true, and to that affect, I knew that I could somewhat trust this little bird, and the secrets he was feeding me—the painful truth was, this was the only notion of trust I had with any human being on the planet, and the little bird was not a human being at all—he was, in fact, and indeed— just a little bird. Isn't it something— Snakes eat Rats, And Birds Eat Snakes, And we eat birds, and eggs Until we hear them sing— And when we hear them sing, And watch them hatch the eggs, And learn to hear them speak, To fly, is what they teach. Isn't it? Snakes eat rats And birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats And Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Jimmy Kimmel flies in through the window. Oh my God! What'd I miss? You're a bird! Oh, that. How long have you been a bird?! Pretty much forever. Always, actually. I was also—just—very briefly—a bird! Yeah, comes with the… You'll get used to it. I don't think I will. You will— or—- Or what? —You'll fly into the turbine of a commercial airplane. Oh! Yeah, don't do that. [He tugs at the bottom of his suit coat to neatly readjust it, and tightens his tie, with an eerie faraway look on his face, however still smiling.] Ha-ha... [he pats his fellow host on the shoulder.] See you later. Will you? [breaking fourth wall, saying nothing but with an honest and subtle shrug, Holding his breath as if to say ‘—I don't know.'] CUT TO: Tom Hanks, looking as similarly to Jimmy Kimmel as ever, because, let's be honest— NARRERATOR Holy fuck, keep that shit just cause it's so bad Right side is offline. Why. I don't know NARRORATOR holy fuck, can you really not spell the word narorator? That doesn't even look right. I thought you were a genius! I thought I was Meditating… Narrator. Nevermind. This is ridiculous! It is ridiculous, but you know what. Mm. This is delicious. You like that? Yes. You want more of it? Yes. Well, that's TOO BAD! What, why is this? Because, this is— {Enter The Multiverse} THIS IS SATURDAY NIGHT! No, it's not. What. It's Sunday. What do you mean. It's Sunday night—and all of you— (The entire cast) Missed the show. ...uh oh. YESTERDAY. [censored] Shh! Where have you BEEN?! Well, gotta go. Where the hell do you think you're going l? {Enter The Multiverse} Now I had comedy under my belt, somewhat, but it seemed all in all as if I'd lost something, even in all that had been gained. A trade off, if it paid off—but it hasn't yet; and perhaps that strange faraway voice had been right. Maybe it would be Jimmy Fallon after all that would destroy me—or at the very least, some dark and foul evil spirit that had been wearing his face… …and singing with his voice. I have been hanging at the end of a rope The legend to the show rolled up like a newspaper in my left paw, opposable The end is near, and sure, the straw I draw is short. The life I loved was long, The boat I rowed had sunk; And the men I loved We're drunks. I've never had the sun on my skin; Or my son in my home— It's not you, , sir, at all It's me, man—I'm broken She speaks pig Latin The lady in the red dress, yes, you guessed it Was it a bet, A Game? A Family Man Who has it out for Fallon, Or the fandom Or the fountain CUT TO: A SUBURBAN NOUSEHOLD. DAY Alright, mom— I'm going to Marshall's. Alright dear. [moments later] [ding dong] Hi— Um, hello. I'm Marshall. Alright. I'm a recruitment officer. Recruitment for what? That's top secret. Okay? I'm here to congratulate you on behalf of the agency. What agency? That's also top secret. Okay. Your son/ or daughter— Daughter. Really—you sure? …positive— Ahem— has been selected to particulate in our leadership program. Well, thats's great. When does it— Today. Oh. Your son and or daughter— Daughter. Are you sure? I'm— positive— Will undergo training for an indeterminate amount of time.. Indeterminate? Pre-addressed Post cards. Ummm. Postage paid. Thank you? No, thank you. What? I had set all my clocks forward, so it was as if I was waking up in the future. So far forward, in fact, that if I wasn't looking at my phone to see the real time, I could never be late, and I even wished that there was a way to set my phone clock forward—but maybe if that was possible, too many people would catch on to being ahead—or on whatever time they wanted—and the world would fall out of sync. That kind of free thinking could be dangerous in a place like New York, and it sort of already was—none the wiser, the smarter I felt I was, the more trouble it becsme and though wisely I knew myself to in totality know nothing at all in actuality, I did at least think more and do more than the average New Yorker, whether I thought about it or not. I set my clocks forward, So I wake up in the future Less than I'd be willing to bet And more than you've be willing to bargain I'm coming with you this time I don't think that's a good idea…is it? —is it? Anyway… It's time for that trip. How am I supposed to make it all the way to London on this pay grade? Just wait. It's barely anything. You see that waitress. …yes. I mean— do you see her. I see her. I want you to bang the shit out of her. Good one. It should be. Oh, you're serious? I'd better be. You know that I'm committed. Are you a man? I have been. Go on, then. Not in that way. The wager. [he lays a large sum of money on the table] Disaster strikes. Suddenly we all realize this plane has been about to crash for about four seasons. Meet me at the four seasons. Are you wearing a wire. Beg your pardon. Are you wearing a wire. He won't love me in the way I'm craving— It's not in his nature, the near hatred and almost demoralizing, however with utmost respect That I should be both harmed and loved at once, Embraced and defiled,; Handled as if having done wrong, But in no less than bloodlust All what's right, And feels the same {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

You DJ…magic? I do whatever I want. Awh—oh, well. Why are you so nervous? Just aM. Sit down. I'm already sitting. Lower. Uh, like this? On the floor. Alright… Here's a cushion for your arse; Don't get up. Thank you. I'm going to make tea. —I take cream in mine; two sugars. I didn't ask! [in almost no time, and some heavy clamoring through the beaded entry to the doorway, a teacup appears on the table in front of him; it slowly begins to swirl, filling with tea—it fills nearly to the brim, steaming, and trembles a touch.] Um… [as he raises his finger with a timid objection, the cup of tea plumes with a cloud of cream—and while his eyes widen with amazement, drawing him closer to the cup, two cubes of sugar splash into the tea; two tiny drops of tea ricochet into his right eye, which he palms with a wince, his other eye still wide with awe; the woman re enters the parlor, carrying a traditional tea tray, a decadent silver platter adorned with an assortment of sweets, and a tea set. She places the platter at the center of the table, and the table sets itself; the table is now set for four, and the teapot pours itself at the head of the table, into the woman's teacup. That ought to do it. It worked! Of course it worked; it always works. Very nice. I see you got my message. [still distracted and in a sort of wonder by the whimsical uproar, the man's attention is aimed at the two empty places at the table. ] Are you expecting company? I'm always expecting company… My hands are tied behind my back You solid wasted time for facts; And steady drawing love for oaths To skin we carve The path of ours, Orion's Belt Something seems off about her There is something strange, no doubt. Unwilling to be by (Sacred vows) Distant In the calling for forests— So we wait Tears as raindrops, though drought has fallen Then reflected in words of others, The mind gone, All else rotten Silk ties, my ears There words, soft voices The other seeking, One running Then came and went The summer gone The spring had flowers The over dried The tongue sparked Horror, Forgotten Remembered, Then, valued and weeping for something else Stranger tide, Oceans foreign, And lands unconquered. Heavy rain, Though tears has dried Heavy hearts as service ended Nothing left my ions, clouds Mercury, women, blood drawn Sad strange, headless, gasping Horse drawn outlets, Incapable of telling fortune; Dust, Dust, Dust, Dust— The curse has broken And still there was love there, and then There was love there all along, For there to had ever been A dance at all. I hate you. Good riddance. Probably for the best, Nothing‘S for the best now! “Best In Show” Name? McNulty. McNulty, eh? Aye. I recognize that You don't say. I shouldn't. Now I see your position And the evidence is adding up All odds against me Not a shiver up my spine Or a sliver under my nail Or a silver in your hair, Nor silver moon, or moonlight Silver stone or Preston Presley or Evenston —so it is—a game. This big network This big chunk change This been (Isn't isn't it) Rolling around in my mind, for days Very well now, settled— Then, there you are A cloud Nevermind the rest of it, It's what we said in the beginning I will always See you in another— I will always See you in another I will always See you In Another It's your move. It's been my move for four decades. Light. More visibility— Yo the ante; I have not dismissed you yet Stead classmates, taking Are you high now— Are you done yet? There it is again; The enemy Nevermind ahain, I thought I'd lose you And there it still is, Can it be? Love in my eyes for you; Even if you are at best Just a mirror, I'm a flashbulb And the last party at your entourage. I don't encourage any carbon dating Honey, But if you are I've got a lesson, for ye— Bored armor, Settle down, I— Got to tell you, Steady stories; Still foggy on my upbringing, There, there I say, Wind moves in all directions All skies get cloudy, Call rain, And then clear again There, there now All skies move, without notice There, there now, All is known but never is not There are things, There are murders, There are tongues There are trials, There are ions, You are right, And scared laying asking not to call out Therefore anyway, I heard you yelling with only a whisper There, there you are Right near the top, Where you ought to be And then also, Moving steady for forwards From another superimposed, Depends on Signal lost Very well, then, Surf to calling, Ring to spark, I There you are, my love Another light, And then, Again— In another life. I will always see you. The shit that falls out of me with just a look. We've all got jobs to do, and as it turns out— it might be really all the same. One job, different tasks, but for one, it's for certain— I want the peppermint swirl. Give me a dozen assorted I put it all on on a (Turn turn) I put it all on a (Turn turn turn) Woah, buddy— You should not have taken those promotional photos wearing my eyes, man. I am not very photogenic. I'll call you back. I could give you the whole Moon and it still wouldn't be enough; I'm home and still there's no roof over my head Hanging on to the edge of a ladder The top at the bottom And life on its side Like it's upside down Inside out Minus 1 And I don't want to go there Minus 5 And I can't read negatives Minus 9 And minutes turn to nothing Gone the time All out battles with All who waited And close to those Were meetings, Designations, Heroes, Writers, Ice cream trucks Tough battles Winners— Games and Levitating on so secretly secrets say “God, Donald, you're on your own” But heavy greetings wash out All who were away at your essence Strings of gold Very wary Wavy heroin, I'm all galaxies Are you whole, in Stuffed stalker, Tin straw hats Carols in summer Marking stones Summer days Summer Are you in here Or out here After all had died And gone grey Still against my head The tender sparkles Of sparked dust, No stars yet Under city winds and Careful not to wake the sound of Delicate and soft Pink detergent And Careful not to thank the Conditioner, saved you Careful Safety Comes first Careful Safety Careful Careful Careful Calm down. She's a partial obsessive… You were tricked into writing all this. Tricked willingly, anyway. No, just tricked. You thought you were special. I realized I had to be when I saw the same thing twice on both ends — I'm just doing my rounds. Making the bed Playing catch up Doing check ups— Well done, boys. I know what you are now. The job is done. The job is a job. [I'm seeing my clarity.] Try not to lay next to me eating; Try not to stand here on such a heavy plane Try frequency, Dignity, Disgrace and Distress, Maybe Major Mayday NATO Bombs down Maybe Stay there Maybe faraway But I can hear you Taking in Shallow breaths Planes crash Plans fail And then— There I was remembering All of a sudden There was no actual plan in this I was just playing by ear. So you are in there. Somebody nail me to a cross and tell me what the Fallon equivalent to Skrillex following me from LA to Brooklyn just to leave me in a homeless shelter to rot— 11 And though eventually I came up kind of okay on the other side affects, the paralyzing realization that I never wanted anything but proper mating. That's, for facts, but— Now with this looming Over my grave I'm sure I've yet something else to worry about just In general. I was told to keep my mouth shut. Weren't we all. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching the tonight show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree? She's gonna make more than me in all the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil. You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weigh He lost his mind; so i'm lets round up Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that Not too much kanye Just enough Kanye, He said “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship Now, ill say I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human species as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} ‘Dillon…' I had been nearly whipped around at how much I had enjoyed watching Joel's 2014 image captured in what might have been his greatest ever performance, at least online—and certainly my favorite, watching as a bigger fan than ever and at th devastating realization that I was literally a dime a dozen in the millions of girls who also wanted any of the men I was attracted to, my heart ached in this moment for Dillon, and as I was distracted in checking my messages, most of them from conversations I had abandoned with the preference of focusing on my art, however— a certain gentleman who had texted me incessantly sent a picture of his dinner— a motorcycle roared as I let my aversion by the memory of Dillon cloud my emotions and judgement; I knew that the gangstalkers had access to my phone and all of my accounts, which was why I kept all of my messaging within Google voice. I wanted the gangstalkers to know how at the surface level I was thinking and what I was feeling—though it was obvious that Dillon Francis just as much as Skrillex had been used as tools by a greater force than simply themselves. Besides, a little birdy had told me that Dillon's girlfriend might be expecting—and furthermore, that the baby would be a little girl. I burned with jealousy and anger, but after all, even the name Dillon Francis had been planted in my own head by the literal devil himself, the man who beat me and then intended to destroy the entirety of the rest of my life to cover up his physical violence and negligence—and so I had decided it was good to fall in love—and then out of love—with Dillon Francis. The benefit was obviously by far in the art that had been created from it, as with any lover—or lack thereof. I had finally realized the one-sidedness in every man I had loved since leaving my abuser. As if in a way they had all been possessed by him, or the devil himself—and either way, there really was no difference. What other creature than the devil itself would seek so animatedly to destroy wich such violence and deceit? It had to have been the devil after all, and so I left it there—but the little bird had left a deep and heavy cut in my heart that had already been there since Dillon had announced his girlfriend publically in the first place—and after all that had happened, it was a devastating blow, however, I kept the amythyst safe and tucked away with my son's labradorite—it was after all his, and not mine, just as the laboradite was my son's, and not mine— and all the pieces of my heart that had fallen away and into little stones sat tucked away inside a box with a lid that shut away the darkness and hatred that came with it. It was obvious that I would and could never love again—but at least in the very simplest of laws, the love I had given would apparently at some point be returned tenfold, and so I was glad that I had chosen for a time, to let myself fall in love with Dillon Francis, and then somehow, even with Joel, and even with the little bird. The same little bird just so happened to have known other things which turned out to be true, and to that affect, I knew that I could somewhat trust this little bird, and the secrets he was feeding me—the painful truth was, this was the only notion of trust I had with any human being on the planet, and the little bird was not a human being at all—he was, in fact, and indeed— just a little bird. Isn't it something— Snakes eat Rats, And Birds Eat Snakes, And we eat birds, and eggs Until we hear them sing— And when we hear them sing, And watch them hatch the eggs, And learn to hear them speak, To fly, is what they teach. Isn't it? Snakes eat rats And birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats And Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Jimmy Kimmel flies in through the window. Oh my God! What'd I miss? You're a bird! Oh, that. How long have you been a bird?! Pretty much forever. Always, actually. I was also—just—very briefly—a bird! Yeah, comes with the… You'll get used to it. I don't think I will. You will— or—- Or what? —You'll fly into the turbine of a commercial airplane. Oh! Yeah, don't do that. [He tugs at the bottom of his suit coat to neatly readjust it, and tightens his tie, with an eerie faraway look on his face, however still smiling.] Ha-ha... [he pats his fellow host on the shoulder.] See you later. Will you? [breaking fourth wall, saying nothing but with an honest and subtle shrug, Holding his breath as if to say ‘—I don't know.'] CUT TO: Tom Hanks, looking as similarly to Jimmy Kimmel as ever, because, let's be honest— NARRERATOR Holy fuck, keep that shit just cause it's so bad Right side is offline. Why. I don't know NARRORATOR holy fuck, can you really not spell the word narorator? That doesn't even look right. I thought you were a genius! I thought I was Meditating… Narrator. Nevermind. This is ridiculous! It is ridiculous, but you know what. Mm. This is delicious. You like that? Yes. You want more of it? Yes. Well, that's TOO BAD! What, why is this? Because, this is— {Enter The Multiverse} THIS IS SATURDAY NIGHT! No, it's not. What. It's Sunday. What do you mean. It's Sunday night—and all of you— (The entire cast) Missed the show. ...uh oh. YESTERDAY. [censored] Shh! Where have you BEEN?! Well, gotta go. Where the hell do you think you're going l? {Enter The Multiverse} Now I had comedy under my belt, somewhat, but it seemed all in all as if I'd lost something, even in all that had been gained. A trade off, if it paid off—but it hasn't yet; and perhaps that strange faraway voice had been right. Maybe it would be Jimmy Fallon after all that would destroy me—or at the very least, some dark and foul evil spirit that had been wearing his face… …and singing with his voice. I have been hanging at the end of a rope The legend to the show rolled up like a newspaper in my left paw, opposable The end is near, and sure, the straw I draw is short. The life I loved was long, The boat I rowed had sunk; And the men I loved We're drunks. I've never had the sun on my skin; Or my son in my home— It's not you, , sir, at all It's me, man—I'm broken She speaks pig Latin The lady in the red dress, yes, you guessed it Was it a bet, A Game? A Family Man Who has it out for Fallon, Or the fandom Or the fountain CUT TO: A SUBURBAN NOUSEHOLD. DAY Alright, mom— I'm going to Marshall's. Alright dear. [moments later] [ding dong] Hi— Um, hello. I'm Marshall. Alright. I'm a recruitment officer. Recruitment for what? That's top secret. Okay? I'm here to congratulate you on behalf of the agency. What agency? That's also top secret. Okay. Your son/ or daughter— Daughter. Really—you sure? …positive— Ahem— has been selected to particulate in our leadership program. Well, thats's great. When does it— Today. Oh. Your son and or daughter— Daughter. Are you sure? I'm— positive— Will undergo training for an indeterminate amount of time.. Indeterminate? Pre-addressed Post cards. Ummm. Postage paid. Thank you? No, thank you. What? I had set all my clocks forward, so it was as if I was waking up in the future. So far forward, in fact, that if I wasn't looking at my phone to see the real time, I could never be late, and I even wished that there was a way to set my phone clock forward—but maybe if that was possible, too many people would catch on to being ahead—or on whatever time they wanted—and the world would fall out of sync. That kind of free thinking could be dangerous in a place like New York, and it sort of already was—none the wiser, the smarter I felt I was, the more trouble it becsme and though wisely I knew myself to in totality know nothing at all in actuality, I did at least think more and do more than the average New Yorker, whether I thought about it or not. I set my clocks forward, So I wake up in the future Less than I'd be willing to bet And more than you've be willing to bargain I'm coming with you this time I don't think that's a good idea…is it? —is it? Anyway… It's time for that trip. How am I supposed to make it all the way to London on this pay grade? Just wait. It's barely anything. You see that waitress. …yes. I mean— do you see her. I see her. I want you to bang the shit out of her. Good one. It should be. Oh, you're serious? I'd better be. You know that I'm committed. Are you a man? I have been. Go on, then. Not in that way. The wager. [he lays a large sum of money on the table] Disaster strikes. Suddenly we all realize this plane has been about to crash for about four seasons. Meet me at the four seasons. Are you wearing a wire. Beg your pardon. Are you wearing a wire. He won't love me in the way I'm craving— It's not in his nature, the near hatred and almost demoralizing, however with utmost respect That I should be both harmed and loved at once, Embraced and defiled,; Handled as if having done wrong, But in no less than bloodlust All what's right, And feels the same {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

You DJ…magic? I do whatever I want. Awh—oh, well. Why are you so nervous? Just aM. Sit down. I'm already sitting. Lower. Uh, like this? On the floor. Alright… Here's a cushion for your arse; Don't get up. Thank you. I'm going to make tea. —I take cream in mine; two sugars. I didn't ask! [in almost no time, and some heavy clamoring through the beaded entry to the doorway, a teacup appears on the table in front of him; it slowly begins to swirl, filling with tea—it fills nearly to the brim, steaming, and trembles a touch.] Um… [as he raises his finger with a timid objection, the cup of tea plumes with a cloud of cream—and while his eyes widen with amazement, drawing him closer to the cup, two cubes of sugar splash into the tea; two tiny drops of tea ricochet into his right eye, which he palms with a wince, his other eye still wide with awe; the woman re enters the parlor, carrying a traditional tea tray, a decadent silver platter adorned with an assortment of sweets, and a tea set. She places the platter at the center of the table, and the table sets itself; the table is now set for four, and the teapot pours itself at the head of the table, into the woman's teacup. That ought to do it. It worked! Of course it worked; it always works. Very nice. I see you got my message. [still distracted and in a sort of wonder by the whimsical uproar, the man's attention is aimed at the two empty places at the table. ] Are you expecting company? I'm always expecting company… My hands are tied behind my back You solid wasted time for facts; And steady drawing love for oaths To skin we carve The path of ours, Orion's Belt Something seems off about her There is something strange, no doubt. Unwilling to be by (Sacred vows) Distant In the calling for forests— So we wait Tears as raindrops, though drought has fallen Then reflected in words of others, The mind gone, All else rotten Silk ties, my ears There words, soft voices The other seeking, One running Then came and went The summer gone The spring had flowers The over dried The tongue sparked Horror, Forgotten Remembered, Then, valued and weeping for something else Stranger tide, Oceans foreign, And lands unconquered. Heavy rain, Though tears has dried Heavy hearts as service ended Nothing left my ions, clouds Mercury, women, blood drawn Sad strange, headless, gasping Horse drawn outlets, Incapable of telling fortune; Dust, Dust, Dust, Dust— The curse has broken And still there was love there, and then There was love there all along, For there to had ever been A dance at all. I hate you. Good riddance. Probably for the best, Nothing‘S for the best now! “Best In Show” Name? McNulty. McNulty, eh? Aye. I recognize that You don't say. I shouldn't. Now I see your position And the evidence is adding up All odds against me Not a shiver up my spine Or a sliver under my nail Or a silver in your hair, Nor silver moon, or moonlight Silver stone or Preston Presley or Evenston —so it is—a game. This big network This big chunk change This been (Isn't isn't it) Rolling around in my mind, for days Very well now, settled— Then, there you are A cloud Nevermind the rest of it, It's what we said in the beginning I will always See you in another— I will always See you in another I will always See you In Another It's your move. It's been my move for four decades. Light. More visibility— Yo the ante; I have not dismissed you yet Stead classmates, taking Are you high now— Are you done yet? There it is again; The enemy Nevermind ahain, I thought I'd lose you And there it still is, Can it be? Love in my eyes for you; Even if you are at best Just a mirror, I'm a flashbulb And the last party at your entourage. I don't encourage any carbon dating Honey, But if you are I've got a lesson, for ye— Bored armor, Settle down, I— Got to tell you, Steady stories; Still foggy on my upbringing, There, there I say, Wind moves in all directions All skies get cloudy, Call rain, And then clear again There, there now All skies move, without notice There, there now, All is known but never is not There are things, There are murders, There are tongues There are trials, There are ions, You are right, And scared laying asking not to call out Therefore anyway, I heard you yelling with only a whisper There, there you are Right near the top, Where you ought to be And then also, Moving steady for forwards From another superimposed, Depends on Signal lost Very well, then, Surf to calling, Ring to spark, I There you are, my love Another light, And then, Again— In another life. I will always see you. The shit that falls out of me with just a look. We've all got jobs to do, and as it turns out— it might be really all the same. One job, different tasks, but for one, it's for certain— I want the peppermint swirl. Give me a dozen assorted I put it all on on a (Turn turn) I put it all on a (Turn turn turn) Woah, buddy— You should not have taken those promotional photos wearing my eyes, man. I am not very photogenic. I'll call you back. I could give you the whole Moon and it still wouldn't be enough; I'm home and still there's no roof over my head Hanging on to the edge of a ladder The top at the bottom And life on its side Like it's upside down Inside out Minus 1 And I don't want to go there Minus 5 And I can't read negatives Minus 9 And minutes turn to nothing Gone the time All out battles with All who waited And close to those Were meetings, Designations, Heroes, Writers, Ice cream trucks Tough battles Winners— Games and Levitating on so secretly secrets say “God, Donald, you're on your own” But heavy greetings wash out All who were away at your essence Strings of gold Very wary Wavy heroin, I'm all galaxies Are you whole, in Stuffed stalker, Tin straw hats Carols in summer Marking stones Summer days Summer Are you in here Or out here After all had died And gone grey Still against my head The tender sparkles Of sparked dust, No stars yet Under city winds and Careful not to wake the sound of Delicate and soft Pink detergent And Careful not to thank the Conditioner, saved you Careful Safety Comes first Careful Safety Careful Careful Careful Calm down. She's a partial obsessive… You were tricked into writing all this. Tricked willingly, anyway. No, just tricked. You thought you were special. I realized I had to be when I saw the same thing twice on both ends — I'm just doing my rounds. Making the bed Playing catch up Doing check ups— Well done, boys. I know what you are now. The job is done. The job is a job. [I'm seeing my clarity.] Try not to lay next to me eating; Try not to stand here on such a heavy plane Try frequency, Dignity, Disgrace and Distress, Maybe Major Mayday NATO Bombs down Maybe Stay there Maybe faraway But I can hear you Taking in Shallow breaths Planes crash Plans fail And then— There I was remembering All of a sudden There was no actual plan in this I was just playing by ear. So you are in there. Somebody nail me to a cross and tell me what the Fallon equivalent to Skrillex following me from LA to Brooklyn just to leave me in a homeless shelter to rot— 11 And though eventually I came up kind of okay on the other side affects, the paralyzing realization that I never wanted anything but proper mating. That's, for facts, but— Now with this looming Over my grave I'm sure I've yet something else to worry about just In general. I was told to keep my mouth shut. Weren't we all. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching the tonight show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree? She's gonna make more than me in all the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil. You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weigh He lost his mind; so i'm lets round up Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that Not too much kanye Just enough Kanye, He said “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship Now, ill say I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human species as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} ‘Dillon…' I had been nearly whipped around at how much I had enjoyed watching Joel's 2014 image captured in what might have been his greatest ever performance, at least online—and certainly my favorite, watching as a bigger fan than ever and at th devastating realization that I was literally a dime a dozen in the millions of girls who also wanted any of the men I was attracted to, my heart ached in this moment for Dillon, and as I was distracted in checking my messages, most of them from conversations I had abandoned with the preference of focusing on my art, however— a certain gentleman who had texted me incessantly sent a picture of his dinner— a motorcycle roared as I let my aversion by the memory of Dillon cloud my emotions and judgement; I knew that the gangstalkers had access to my phone and all of my accounts, which was why I kept all of my messaging within Google voice. I wanted the gangstalkers to know how at the surface level I was thinking and what I was feeling—though it was obvious that Dillon Francis just as much as Skrillex had been used as tools by a greater force than simply themselves. Besides, a little birdy had told me that Dillon's girlfriend might be expecting—and furthermore, that the baby would be a little girl. I burned with jealousy and anger, but after all, even the name Dillon Francis had been planted in my own head by the literal devil himself, the man who beat me and then intended to destroy the entirety of the rest of my life to cover up his physical violence and negligence—and so I had decided it was good to fall in love—and then out of love—with Dillon Francis. The benefit was obviously by far in the art that had been created from it, as with any lover—or lack thereof. I had finally realized the one-sidedness in every man I had loved since leaving my abuser. As if in a way they had all been possessed by him, or the devil himself—and either way, there really was no difference. What other creature than the devil itself would seek so animatedly to destroy wich such violence and deceit? It had to have been the devil after all, and so I left it there—but the little bird had left a deep and heavy cut in my heart that had already been there since Dillon had announced his girlfriend publically in the first place—and after all that had happened, it was a devastating blow, however, I kept the amythyst safe and tucked away with my son's labradorite—it was after all his, and not mine, just as the laboradite was my son's, and not mine— and all the pieces of my heart that had fallen away and into little stones sat tucked away inside a box with a lid that shut away the darkness and hatred that came with it. It was obvious that I would and could never love again—but at least in the very simplest of laws, the love I had given would apparently at some point be returned tenfold, and so I was glad that I had chosen for a time, to let myself fall in love with Dillon Francis, and then somehow, even with Joel, and even with the little bird. The same little bird just so happened to have known other things which turned out to be true, and to that affect, I knew that I could somewhat trust this little bird, and the secrets he was feeding me—the painful truth was, this was the only notion of trust I had with any human being on the planet, and the little bird was not a human being at all—he was, in fact, and indeed— just a little bird. Isn't it something— Snakes eat Rats, And Birds Eat Snakes, And we eat birds, and eggs Until we hear them sing— And when we hear them sing, And watch them hatch the eggs, And learn to hear them speak, To fly, is what they teach. Isn't it? Snakes eat rats And birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats And Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Jimmy Kimmel flies in through the window. Oh my God! What'd I miss? You're a bird! Oh, that. How long have you been a bird?! Pretty much forever. Always, actually. I was also—just—very briefly—a bird! Yeah, comes with the… You'll get used to it. I don't think I will. You will— or—- Or what? —You'll fly into the turbine of a commercial airplane. Oh! Yeah, don't do that. [He tugs at the bottom of his suit coat to neatly readjust it, and tightens his tie, with an eerie faraway look on his face, however still smiling.] Ha-ha... [he pats his fellow host on the shoulder.] See you later. Will you? [breaking fourth wall, saying nothing but with an honest and subtle shrug, Holding his breath as if to say ‘—I don't know.'] CUT TO: Tom Hanks, looking as similarly to Jimmy Kimmel as ever, because, let's be honest— NARRERATOR Holy fuck, keep that shit just cause it's so bad Right side is offline. Why. I don't know NARRORATOR holy fuck, can you really not spell the word narorator? That doesn't even look right. I thought you were a genius! I thought I was Meditating… Narrator. Nevermind. This is ridiculous! It is ridiculous, but you know what. Mm. This is delicious. You like that? Yes. You want more of it? Yes. Well, that's TOO BAD! What, why is this? Because, this is— {Enter The Multiverse} THIS IS SATURDAY NIGHT! No, it's not. What. It's Sunday. What do you mean. It's Sunday night—and all of you— (The entire cast) Missed the show. ...uh oh. YESTERDAY. [censored] Shh! Where have you BEEN?! Well, gotta go. Where the hell do you think you're going l? {Enter The Multiverse} Now I had comedy under my belt, somewhat, but it seemed all in all as if I'd lost something, even in all that had been gained. A trade off, if it paid off—but it hasn't yet; and perhaps that strange faraway voice had been right. Maybe it would be Jimmy Fallon after all that would destroy me—or at the very least, some dark and foul evil spirit that had been wearing his face… …and singing with his voice. I have been hanging at the end of a rope The legend to the show rolled up like a newspaper in my left paw, opposable The end is near, and sure, the straw I draw is short. The life I loved was long, The boat I rowed had sunk; And the men I loved We're drunks. I've never had the sun on my skin; Or my son in my home— It's not you, , sir, at all It's me, man—I'm broken She speaks pig Latin The lady in the red dress, yes, you guessed it Was it a bet, A Game? A Family Man Who has it out for Fallon, Or the fandom Or the fountain CUT TO: A SUBURBAN NOUSEHOLD. DAY Alright, mom— I'm going to Marshall's. Alright dear. [moments later] [ding dong] Hi— Um, hello. I'm Marshall. Alright. I'm a recruitment officer. Recruitment for what? That's top secret. Okay? I'm here to congratulate you on behalf of the agency. What agency? That's also top secret. Okay. Your son/ or daughter— Daughter. Really—you sure? …positive— Ahem— has been selected to particulate in our leadership program. Well, thats's great. When does it— Today. Oh. Your son and or daughter— Daughter. Are you sure? I'm— positive— Will undergo training for an indeterminate amount of time.. Indeterminate? Pre-addressed Post cards. Ummm. Postage paid. Thank you? No, thank you. What? I had set all my clocks forward, so it was as if I was waking up in the future. So far forward, in fact, that if I wasn't looking at my phone to see the real time, I could never be late, and I even wished that there was a way to set my phone clock forward—but maybe if that was possible, too many people would catch on to being ahead—or on whatever time they wanted—and the world would fall out of sync. That kind of free thinking could be dangerous in a place like New York, and it sort of already was—none the wiser, the smarter I felt I was, the more trouble it becsme and though wisely I knew myself to in totality know nothing at all in actuality, I did at least think more and do more than the average New Yorker, whether I thought about it or not. I set my clocks forward, So I wake up in the future Less than I'd be willing to bet And more than you've be willing to bargain I'm coming with you this time I don't think that's a good idea…is it? —is it? Anyway… It's time for that trip. How am I supposed to make it all the way to London on this pay grade? Just wait. It's barely anything. You see that waitress. …yes. I mean— do you see her. I see her. I want you to bang the shit out of her. Good one. It should be. Oh, you're serious? I'd better be. You know that I'm committed. Are you a man? I have been. Go on, then. Not in that way. The wager. [he lays a large sum of money on the table] Disaster strikes. Suddenly we all realize this plane has been about to crash for about four seasons. Meet me at the four seasons. Are you wearing a wire. Beg your pardon. Are you wearing a wire. He won't love me in the way I'm craving— It's not in his nature, the near hatred and almost demoralizing, however with utmost respect That I should be both harmed and loved at once, Embraced and defiled,; Handled as if having done wrong, But in no less than bloodlust All what's right, And feels the same {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

The Earth's atmosphere contains enormous amounts of water.  Being able to efficiently and economically extract some of it to provide drinking water would be extremely beneficial to the billions of people across the globe who face chronic water shortages. There are existing technologies for atmospheric water harvesting – or AWH.  But there are downsides associated […]

In this special episode, Nicole is joined by industry experts Tim Regan and Tim Gerdeman from Water Tower Research. Together, they embark on a dynamic conversation delving into the latest trends, challenges, and opportunities in women's health. They discuss continued progress on the markets adoption of the Company's OvaSuite products and other areas of growth for AWH. 

But still 25 years away? Awh man. We get all the space news this hour with Executive Director of Spaceport Sheboygan Brian Ewenson. We also talk about Gov Evers' maps celebration & subsequent tour, and a crazy rescue story that doesn't discriminate in size

Women's health changed in 2023, the research showed clear trends that I also saw in my practice and the practice of my associates. AWH also grew a lot, and there were many lessons to learn. Today I am going to share in depth about both of those things so that you can grow along with me!Join our Programs! Certified Women's Health Practitioner 2024! Click HereEndometriosis Intensive: Click HereUse code: "endosuperhero" to save $50!The Insulin Intensive: Click Here Stay in touch! NCM Learning Platform | https://learning.naturopathicmentorship.com Advanced Women's Health Website | https://www.advancedwomenshealth.ca/Finally Lose It Book | https://sarahwilsonnd.com/finallyloseitInstagram | https://www.instagram.com/drsarah_nd/ For info on working with me as a patient or for business support and coaching reach out to contact@naturopathicmentorship.com

【PR】NordVPN下記のリンクからアクセスすると2年プランが大幅割引！さらに4か月分延長も付いてきます！30日間の全額返金保証もあるので、この機会にぜひお試しください。▼詳細はこちらからhttps://nordvpn.com/backspace▼クーポンコードbackspace*クーポンコードはチェックアウト時にご入力ください*上記URL経由では自動でクーポンが反映されます========================================久々にドリキン・善司の二人で収録。ブラックフライデーのコソ散財や3Dプリンターについて話しました。▽トピックオープニング / NordVPNキャンペーンのお知らせ / ブラックフライデー / 3Dプリンター▽関連リンク@backspacefm / TwitterBSマガジンYouTube版 #528NordVPN割引キャンペーン | NordVPN【西川善司】AMDイベントで初上陸。インド・ゴア州はまるで「CryENGINE」の世界だった？【衝撃】藤井銀河が容赦なき82手瞬殺…若手プロの研究を一瞬で破壊した大事件を解説【第31期銀河戦決勝トーナメント】 - YouTubeAdvent Calendar 2023Bambu Lab | Bambu Labの3Dプリンターで創造性を発揮しよう - Bambu LabAmazon.co.jp: Huanyu ホットカッター ホットナイフ 600℃加熱調節 110V/100W ナイロン/布/ロープ/プラスチック/スチロール カット用 (4枚ナイフセット)Amazon.co.jp : アルティメットニッパーAmazon.co.jp: 長谷川刃物 はさみ アームレスラー 平トタン用 ブルー AWH-215 : DIY・工具・ガーデンマジカルカーボンとは？｜ハセプロ オンラインショップ本店▽レギュラースポンサーこの番組はフェンリル株式会社の提供でお届けしております。backspace専用マストドンインスタンス、通称グルドンはさくらインターネットのサポートを受けて運用しています。backspace.fmでは我々の活動を応援してくれるスポンサーを募集しています。興味がある方はぜひこちらにて連絡ください！drikin+backspacefm@gmail.comこの番組は Riverside.fm を使ってリモート収録しています。 Riverside.fmはビデオ通話をしながら高音質ファイルを同時に収録することができる、ポッドキャストなどのリモート収録に特化したサービスです。興味がある方はぜひこちらをチェックしてみてください。https://bit.ly/RiversideFM_BackspaceSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Susie and Sarah are getting back in the competitive spirit with an upcoming athletic event, and it is hilarious. Sarah got a new trashy luxury item and it is a guaranteed AWH. She went to a Lauryn Hill and the Fugees concert, and despite, or perhaps because of, her high hopes, she was very disappointed. A Polish alcohol company hired a new CEO that is a woman of color! Unfortunately, she is a robot. There's a huge treasure at the bottom of the ocean and a lot of people are hoping to get their hands on it. Seems like if you're willing to go to the bottom of the ocean and grab it, it should be finders keepers. But Sarah is thinking about sticking a magnet to a stick and finding some meteorites because evidently that's big business??Join our Candy Club, shop our merch, sign-up for our free newsletter, & more by visiting The Brain Candy Podcast website: https://www.thebraincandypodcast.comConnect with us on social media:BCP Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/braincandypodcastSusie's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/susiemeisterSarah's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/imsarahriceBCP Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/braincandypodSusie's Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/susie_meisterSarah's Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/ImSarahRiceSponsors:Head to https://nakedwines.com/BRAINCANDY and click ‘Enter Voucher' in the top right when you get to the website, and enter BRAINCANDY for both the code AND password to get 6 bottles of wine for JUST $39.99 with shipping included!Head to https://moshlife.com/braincandy to save 20% off plus FREE shipping on your first 6-count Trial Pack!Get $20 off your purchase of a Hatch Restore 2 and free shipping at https://www.hatch.co/braincandyRitual is offering my listeners 30% off during your first month. Visit https://ritual.com/braincandy to start Ritual or add HyaCera to your line up today!More podcasts at WAVE: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/artist/wave-podcast-network/1437831426See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

MONDAY HR 1 Can your dog get a cold? If so, how do you treat it? Russ getting ready to read on TV. Awh, men are getting left behind in America?

关注视频号【璐璐的英文小酒馆】，主页【商品橱窗】中进入购买即可，满满干货不要错过哦~1)Nightmarea.Comes from the Old English word mære.b.A mære or mare is an evil female spirit who visits sleeping people on a horse and sit on their chests to kill them.c.They also bring bad dreams and tangle up people's hair. Hi, everyone. And welcome back to our new segment【It means what?】Yeah!!!Stop it now. (kidding)Awh~欢迎回来, 我们的新板块【词源考古研究所】. Hi, 安澜.Hi, Lulu, hi, everyone. In the segment, we are sharing with you interesting origin, stories, words and phrases. So what is our word for today？Today's word is nightmare. Nightmare就是噩梦. Bad dreams, UMM. Yes, we do say bad dreams in English as well, but nightmare as a word is even older. It comes from somewhere that's even scarier. I sometimes wondered, I know ‘night', but where does the word ‘mare' come from？Mare nowadays in English means a horse, a female horse. Mare现在是有母马的意思, but I'm pretty sure the origin has nothing to do with horses. It's got something to do with horses, okay？But this particular ‘mare' comes from an old English word ‘mære'. Now a mære is actually an evil female spirit. 就是恶灵这种感觉. So this spirit visit sleeping people on a horse and sits on their chest to try and kill them. Yeah, when you say old English, I'm guessing because I am a fanatic of folklore, most of our listeners know this. Now if you say old English lore that most likely this folklore or this whole evil spirit, it comes from Scandinavia? Yeah, Germany, Scandinavia, Nordic countries. We shared a very similar religious belief system. Especially old English is very Germanic. Very very Germanic. 日耳曼系或者说是Scandinavian就北欧的这些传说里面, they have this evil spirit mare. So it's the whole idea of sleep paralysis when you're sleeping and you wake up but can't move. You know we have the exact word in Chinese, alright, it's called ‘鬼压床', literally translates into ghost or spirit crushes you in your bed. Yeah, we have exactly the same in English. And this whole mare what you said visits sleeping people and sits on their chest to kill them or to crush them, this whole idea is basically it's a very vivid, very graphic imagery. You can actually see it in some of the artworks. Yeah. It all comes down to that very common phenomenon of sleep paralysis. I think everybody at one time or another, they feel that they've woken up in the night, but they can't move. I think a lot of this obviously has medical explanations behind it, but let's say, people in the olden days they couldn't explain with science, or like medical science. So they could only explain this with the idea of an evil spirit. Exactly. And actually I did some research. So in Norwegian and Danish, in these two northern European languages, the words for nightmare can be directly translated as ‘mare ride'. 所以在挪语和丹麦语里 nightmare这个词直译 ‘mare ride', basically a mare this evil spirit is riding on you, scary.It is terrifying. In old English, we believe that they used to bring bad dreams and also quite strangely, they used to tangle up people's hair. So they messed people's hair. So when you wake up in the morning and your hair is all over the place, it's not because you were tossing and turning bed. It was because an evil spirit came and played with your hair.

Ello ello, new episode time! We're chatting about chapter 25 of the half blood prince (eek, we're so close to the end!), about tarot cards, holocaust metaphors, and trust. Plus, Todd and Misu facetime. Awh. Get a free box of wine (and corn), using our Wine52 link! www.wine52.com/GOBLET HP TV Show Petition: https://actionnetwork.org/petitions/nohptv/ Enjoy Harry Potter Without Funding JK Masterlist - https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/19H9-NRMfaISLNMAaLSssQFrNy8dUTR3Jeq6oioK4OwQ/edit?usp=sharing Merch - https://www.redbubble.com/people/gobletofwine/shop?asc=u www.gobletofwine.co.uk   patreon.com/gobletofwine  Twitter.com/gobletofwinepod    Instagram.com/gobletofwinepodcast www.facebook.com/gobletofwinepodcast https://www.tiktok.com/@gobletofwinepod?lang=en https://www.youtube.com/@gobletofwinepodcast --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/gobletofwine/message

It's another Monday mga collabs

Kathryn's child was having a meltdown when Ellen from House of Flowers stepped in to #bekind. Sean from Honest Builders then steps in with an extra bit of kindness. Awh! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Ascend Wellness Chief Financial Officer Daniel Neville joins Natalie Stoberman in the Proactive studio to share the success behind its recent cannabis store openings. Ascend Wellness is a multi-state, vertically integrated cannabis operator. AWH owns and operates state-of-the-art cultivation facilities, growing award-winning strains and producing a curated selection of products.

Do we need a separate product strategy or do we need to a plan to align our activities with an overarching business strategy? Ryan Frederick, author and Principal/Founder of AWH makes the case for the latter in this episode."Strategy is supposed to be something that is singular. A company has a strategy not strategies." Learn more:Ryan's books are: The Founder's Manual: A Guidebook for Becoming a Successful Entrepreneur and Sell Naked: And Other Advice for Growing and Managing Services Firms.

Fake it till you make it. Talk the talk before you can walk the walk. We hear it all the time, and that's where Russ Flicker was in 2009. Russ left the Blackstone Group to join Ian Schrager Company as its chief investment officer but “irreconcilable differences” compelled him to leave only months after joining to strike out on his own—in the midst of the worst global economic crisis in decades—with two children under 5 years old and his wife.In fact, he wasn't really even trying to start a business. In his words, he was “unemployable,” thanks to a devastated economy where everyone in his line of work—real estate equity, private equity and development—was hanging onto their jobs for dear life. “I was just trying to make some money and stay relevant,” Flicker said.That process started when he identified the Sheraton Safari hotel in Orlando, a property in need of a massive upgrade. A property he thought could use his talents, giving him a toehold to start his own business. And, as it turned out, his former associates at Blackstone owned the property. Flicker and his partner Jon Rosenfeld (who also previously worked at Blackstone) put months of work into networking, connecting with potential investors, assembling financing—all with the belief that Blackstone might be willing to sell. Along the way, at least two dozen potential investors told him he was nuts. No way was that property worth what Flicker thought it was worth.Still, with one key investor, Flicker was able to pull together the purchase. But when the time came to seal the deal, the answer was no. Flicker was devastated—in fact, he struggled to keep that “fake it till you make it” attitude. But he was undeterred, following up with former colleagues higher in Blackstone's ecosystem. “You've got to believe in your idea even when everyone else is telling you not to,” Flicker said.And that was the crux of his case to the Blackstone higher-ups. His presentation basically said this: Nobody thinks this hotel is worth what I'm willing to give you for it—so maybe this is a deal you ought to consider. The argument won the day. Flicker bought the hotel, revived it and used that deal to leverage others.Today, Flicker's company, AWH Partners LLC, owns and manages about 8,000 hotel rooms across 25 states with private equity, hedge fund and insurance company partners like Apollo Global Management, The Baupost Group and Starr Companies. As a vertically integrated hospitality firm, AWH owns a management company (Spire Hospitality) that manages its hotels as well as a development company that manages renovations and ground up construction in-house.RELATED LINKSAWH PartnersAcquisition example: AWH Partners and Funds Managed by Apollo Global Management Acquire DoubleTree by Hilton Hotel AnaheimJohn Barrios, assistant professor of accounting, WashU OlinCREDITSThis podcast is a production of Olin Business School at Washington University in St. Louis. Contributors include:Katie Wools, Cathy Myrick, Judy Milanovits and Lesley Liesman, creative assistanceJill Young Miller, fact checking and creative assistanceHayden Molinarolo, original music and sound designMike Martin Media, editingSophia Passantino, social mediaLexie O'Brien and Erik Buschardt, website supportPaula Crews, creative vision and strategic supportSpecial thanks to Ray Irving and his team at WashU Olin's Center for Digital Education, including our audio engineer, Austin Alred.

Link to bioRxiv paper: http://biorxiv.org/cgi/content/short/2022.09.24.509255v1?rss=1 Authors: Günseli, E., Foster, J., Sutterer, D., Todorova, L., Vogel, E. K., Awh, E. Abstract: Representations in working memory need to be flexibly transformed to adapt to our dynamic environment and variable task demands. Recent work has demonstrated that activity in the alpha frequency band enables precise decoding of visual information during both perception and sustained storage in working memory. Extant work, however, has focused exclusively on the representation of static visual images. Here we used EEG recordings to examine whether alpha-band activity supports the dynamic transformation of representations in spatial working memory using an imagery task that required the active shifting of a stored position to a new position. In line with recent findings, a common format of alpha-band activity precisely tracked both the initial position stored in working memory as well as the transformed position, with the latter emerging approximately 800-1200 ms following an auditory cue to rotate to a new position. Moreover, the time course of this transformation of alpha activity predicted between-subject differences in manual reaction time to indicate the new position (Experiment 1), as well as within-subject variations in saccade latency in a speeded version of the task (Experiment 2). Finally, cross-training analyses revealed robust generalization of alpha-band reconstruction of working memory contents before and after mental transformation. These findings demonstrate that alpha activity tracks dynamic transformations of representations in spatial working memory, and that the format of this activity is preserved across the initial and transformed memory representations. These findings highlight a new approach for measuring voluntary shifts in online memory representations and show common representational formats during dynamic mental imagery and the maintenance of static representations in working memory. Copy rights belong to original authors. Visit the link for more info Podcast created by PaperPlayer

Welcome to episode 87, where Mason sits down with Michael Berggreen who runs Aim Way High Coaching. In this episode, they go through the journey Michael went through as a kid growing up in an abusive home  and changing his life around to becoming a successful entreprenuer. Here is the contact information For Michael: Email: michael@aimwayhigh.comWebsite: aimwayhigh.comAim Way High Coaching is about finding alignment with the happy version of yourself. AWH will enlighten your guidance system to reactivate and allow you to stand tall day after day. AWH will allow you to carry that indefinite smile effortlessly without reason or logic. You will find peace and inspiration here. Peace because contentment can be attained through knowledge of a different way of thinking. Inspiration because from a place of peace, new perspective, wonder and magic will find it's way back into your life. Support the show

On this episode of the High Rise, Cy and Emily talk about Ascend Wellness Holdings (AWH) banding together with other prominent cannabis businesses to sue the federal government over what they believe to be unconstitutional policies that are impending their operations. AWH has tapped the famous law firm Boies, Schiller Flexner to help them bring this case all the way up SCOTUS if they can garner enough support, and it definitely sounds like they do. Make sure to stream this at 1x speed, as there are many details Cy and Emily cover that go beyond the headlines of this latest story to come out of the cannabis industry. As always we thank you for listening and please remember to rate and subscribe to the High Rise wherever you get your podcasts.https://www.marijuanamoment.net/marijuana-companies-teaming-up-to-sue-federal-government-with-all-star-legal-firm-multi-state-operator-ceo-says/https://atach.org/capital-markets-council/

In this episode we are joined by Frank Perullo of Ascend Wellness. Frank is a Co-Founder of AWH and currently serves as President and Chief Strategy Officer. We Discuss: - Frank's Background in Regulatory Affairs - Early Days of being a Cannabis Consultant in MA - Working with GTI, Tilt, Ianthus, Acreage along with mom & pop operators - Why is it so Difficult to Open a Dispensary in MA? - Genesis: Meeting Abner and Creating Ascend - Moving Fast: Why Ascend was able to win the Friend St Store in Boston - IL: Buying a Distressed Cultivation Asset - Deciding to Double Stack to be ready for Adult Use - NJ: Doing a Deal after Everyone Had Looked at it - Ground Game: Finding Great Retail Locations by Knocking on Doors - How's the New Jersey Market? - Changing Canopy Sizing based on Projected Supply - Entering PA via acquiring a CR license - Second Mover Advantage - Customers: Value vs Premium and Inflation Pressures - Why Should Investors choose Ascend? Thanks to Frank for joining us for this very fun and informative interview

UNTITLED SHORT FILM 3. T I M E 2 Everything I wanted/ Em mi cuarto Watch tenet Watch inception En Mi Cuart Blumixx EN MI CUARTO- BLŪMIXX lyricas Yo soy no borracha, no Escuchen to la musica— Bailar, bailar, bailar No me gusta corazom O tu pantalones, porque Mi encantan (even though) es mal En mi cuarto En la playa Yo leer y escriba Porque no dormir en mañana No photos famtastatica Yo soy muy fea, y muy gorda Tu que gupao y importamte Porque (when) yo triste ahora Tu musica luz te fuera Si-si-si Para Tu, y para ti I don't go to parties Or drink Hennessy But, Baby this is so embarrassing I wear your tattoo But I don't think you remember me Guess I fell in love And now I'm trying to crawl out of it Want to make you proud, But now I'm guessing you don't give a shit Told my closest friend about it all She believed everything I am sure she listens to your songs when she is drinking And she thinks of me Believe it Don't take pictures, or do videos But I see your face in dreams most nights when I am sleeping though I hope you know I prayed for you, I took your soul from Satan I walked up a mountain, I went fasting with the ancients I write omens, I'm a no one, And I know you'll probably hate this, But I bought some pics So I could see your trainer naked And rate it I'm playin Aqui me lama ‘blu' Yo me la paso imaginando tu piel Lo que-hicimo' en el sofá aquel Y quizá si yo llego a saber no te lo llego a me- Esa noche porque Baby, no e' lo mismo aquí si no estás tú en mi cuarto En mi cuarto Me la paso viendo to' tus video' y viendo to' tus retrato' Tus retrato' Quería tomar, contigo joder Yo quería fumar, contigo beber Pero, baby, no e' lo mismo aquí si no estás tú en mi cuarto En mi cuarto, oh-oh-oh Y yo sigo aquí sin dormir bebiendo Hennessy Las sábanas en mi cuarto, pero tú no está' aquí Y ese día yo decía que no, pero sí Sea la madre, caí Y esto e'tun juego, pero yo perdí en el tuyo Y tú te hace', pero yo sé lo tuyo Dejé la puerta abierta, pero tuve que cerrarla, yo Tengo un corazón, pero ese cabrón no manda, no Solamente tú, sé dónde está ese tattoo Si fuese' gemela como quiera me gustaría' tú Yo me enchulé como un cabrón, pero pa' ti fue un vacilón Ojalá que borracha tu amiga ponga esta canción Y sepa' que no e' lo mismo aquí si no estás tú en cuarto En cuarto Me la paso viendo to' tus video' y viendo to' tus retrato' Tus retrato' Quería tomar, contigo joder Yo quería fumar, contigo beber Pero, ‘aby, no e' lo mismo, aquí si no estás tú en mi cuarto En mi cuarto, oh-oh-oh Esta noche Porque I don't want no sloppy seconds, sis— You can keep him Tell you what, next time we have a race I'm gonna win it; Finally found the difference between men and women Men love a body, but I woman love a kitchen To cook in Hey good lookin, I wrote the book on your crookedness Kayla's a crook, but I like this new Dillon Kid Call me obsessive, but I make em sandwiches Yeah, she a foodie with Skrillex and riches I guess; Congratulations to the princess; As a Queen you wouldn't make it; Half the world has seen you naked Hey, question: How much did them thin lips cost; Tell Sonny he lost— Cause I'm the final boss, And he could never make me Nut; Get it, Ra? Alright, I'm done, moving on I don't want no sloppy seconds, sis— You can keep him Tell you what, next time we have a race I'm gonna win it; Finally found the difference between men and women Men love a body, but a woman love a kitchen To cook in Sonny wouldn't make it a day in the ghetto; Or maybe he did, after he stole all the gold From my kingdom; I know a nigga ain't dumb But I remember sucking thumbs inside a womb, Inside our mom, Who was a mummy, Dug her up, And afterwards I took a bath I got bad habbits, And little white rabbits On the sabbath I rapped about the past With fresh tostadas In a black dragon backpack; It was supposed to say OWSLA; But I'll adjust; I got a tattoo in Tijuana With my logo on it Cause opposites attract I was actually first, Kayla That's just a fact; But you know what? I'm done! You can have him back Have a happy Instagram Basic bitch bash Ask Nancy if I can have my hat back When she's done with that I'm really just a fan Haaaaah. I don't want no sloppy seconds, sis— You can keep him Tell you what, next time we have a race I'm gonna win it; Finally found the difference between men and women Men love a body, but A woman love a kitchen To cook in “ The Wrong Skrillex” Supacree realizes she's in the wrong dimension after all, after discovering the Skrillex in her current dimension is in actuality 5'5-whereas the correct Skrillex is 5'4; she searches for a portal into the correct dimension. “The Other Way” Supacree and Skrillex are a couple; Kayla Lauren, a lifelong fan, has written an entire Saga about Sonny/Skrillex, after falling in love with him at a music festival. This is creepy. It is creepy. “It's Dillon Francis” SUPACREE's reality is shifted after she learns the “Skrillex” that has been guiding her is actually a bodiless extraterrestrial being, willing and ready to occupy “whatever body” she sees fit—having lost Sonny, she settles on Dillon Francis. “Settles on Dillon Francis—?!” It is settling. That's an upgrade. How is that? He's— [Dillon Francis] Look at him! [Dillon Francis.] —it's a settlement. It's—he's taller? So?! He's also whiter. Whiter than Skrillex? Skrillex isn't white—! [Skrillex.] No—just— ugh. Hmmm. How is this your type? He's my type. How are either of them your type? They're both my type. Supacree is a superstar DJ. She has learned from the ascended mastery that her future husband is also a superstar DJ. Is it Skrillex? [Skrillex] ...mmm. … Supacree accidentally fell in love with Skrillex— She now has an unavoidable crush on Dillon Francis, but is unwilling to admit it. No, I don't. Nobody wants to hurt her feelings, but— But what? Fuck these n****s. Currently: SUPACREE is the most eligible bachelorette in LA; —yeah, right— And—she's not even famous yet. —what is this—? It's funnier that she doesn't know. WHAT? She has no idea. DILLON FRANCIS She's not my type. All the [single] superstar DJs fight for a chance with Supacree. This is her sound library. What the fuck. She MAKES music— Oh, Goddammn. She's a Goddess. —I'm a God— OH MY GOD— —trapped inside a Goddess, yes, it's complicated— A DJ comes flying towards her. Force field, up. *zap* ugh. I know, right? It's never Skrillex. She portals away. AGHHHHH!! SHES MINE! MINE! ITS ME, DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! Who is that? ...I don't know. Some DJ. SHE'S MINEEEEEE—- Aghhhhhh!! DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHH!!!! “The Blue Eyed Skrillex” It was weird. Sonny's unborn son travels back from his future and winds up in a... What does he want? To go back, I'm assuming. This scene? Is it written? It might be. How's this? Don't do this. I have to. ___ Oh YES—we were tie dying! Oh shit, now I remember. ___ DR Ya'll. Skrillex is an alien. OWSLA We know this. DR No, I mean-- like, for real. OWSLA Yeah. He is. Wait, Doctor WHO? Exactly. “DOCTOR WHOWSLA” (Lame.) EVERYONE We already knew that. DR No. But I mean, on some real shit-- OWSLA WE KNOW DUDE. Oh. [The Skrillex is Unveiled] What in the fuck sauce. Siri Plays Duck Sauce No, Siri--Okay, you know what? I'm not even mad. I love this. [Mini Dance Break-- Suddenly the Skrillex is activated by th--] Ohhh, I get it. Because, remember, it runs on-- Yassssss!!!! What the-- WOAH. What just happened? How'd you do that? I did not! Yes you did! It wasn't me! THE SKRILLEX: IT WAS U. Oh My God. What the fuck! This is crazy! I KNOW DUDE-- Are we terrified or astounded?! I AM SKRILLEX. AHHHH! PORQUE NO LAS DOS? THE SKRILLEX PLAYS ‘PORQUE NO LAS DOS, BY SUPACREE What is this? I love it. [Miniature Dance Break, even amidst the chaos Wait... I wrote this song. Wait--you did? This is you! Damn. That's fire. This is hot. You wrote this? Yeah, but...in the future. Wait, I thought there is no future. There has to be, Skrillex is in it. I AM SKRILLEX. Apparently, this is him. No it isn't! It is him. It has to be. But it isn't. It's him, he's just screwing with it. Who is this kid? What is she even doing here with us? She's going to help us find him. Close...but no. What do you mean? We've had several hundred experts listen-- There are several hundred ‘experts' in Skrillex. Several Thousands, more precisely, in this specific field of study, mind you. I do mind. This is a very serious matter, miss. Over it. I beg your pardon? Mind Over...Nevermind. But I do. *shrugs* Hm. ___ Juanita The Maid Mister Skrillex Just call me-- Mister Skrillex ...Okay, that Questions to Answer (Somehow) Why Is She Mad At Dillon Francis (Which time, and which character?) Oh shit. Well. First of all, she is Dillon Francis. Okay. And she hates herself, primarily, right? Right; but--everyone hates themselves. Apparently, they don't. (They do.) So why is she actually mad at Dillon Francis? In the most realistic dimension? Yes. Because he doesn't even know she exists; and if he did, he would just see her as an average fan. He'd never know she was aspiring to be what he's already achieved, and--to add to that, I guess she might be slightly jealous of his friendship with Sonny; What? Or at the very least, his collaborations with Skrillex. Everybody has collaborations with Skrillex. Apparently, they don't. (They do.) So, I guess at the most basic level of anything, she's just angry that she can't understand how to do what they do; and at the core, she's trying to be like either of them--but the music industry's so jaded, she doesn't know if she can trust anyone--esoecually after Magic Is Real That was a good night. She was in a good state of mind; but always questioned the intentions and whether they were in fact, for, or against her. We, someone was trying to get my attention. ...it was you? Of course it was me. Im the only one giving this many fucks about Dillon Francis. I doubt it. This is a lot of fucks to give about anyone. Or anything. Doesn't matter. Oh, it matters. So why is God mad at Dillon Francis? Well; at one point, he's not even flowing Ze Rules, Nice. Because he's working for The psychonauts and Bampheramphs, and the mothafuckin Bampheramphs, and Homeland security, and the FBI, CIA and secret service respectively; and some private sector white collar guys, I'm not even sure he knows what they're really about. So he's always everywhere, nobody knows how it's possible or why, and he can usually not account for it. Ok, nice. Now, Chak Chel is mad, because she sent him out with a list; but this last time, he just never came back; That's sad. He was her last chance at finding her other half; without him she knows she won't have Time. That's getting deep. Because Hanzel's an angel, or something I thought he was from hell. He is, but he's on all the teams that Dillon's not, plus all the ones he's on at a higher rank. Of course, which makes Hanzel-- AN ACENDED MASTER. (Descended, technically) But Chak Chel's not actually mad at Dillon Francis; he might even be her favorite "greatest grandchild", which is why the Google kids turn against him and begin pranking him into ascension. They love him too, but they're jealous of all the time he gets to spend with "Google", I don't think she's called google yet, then Just depends which dimension you're in— It is endless Oh God. I spent a year writing about Skrillex and Dillon Francis Mostly skrillex. Mostly Sonny. Who the fuck is Skrillex? I am. ___ Did you get the Skrillex? Yes. Let me see it. This isn't it. This is bogus. Bogus Skrillex? Wake up, it's a new world. ___ Wake up. ___ So wait, he just thinks he's in black rock city the whole time? Playa Magic. Questions to Answer (Somehow) Why Is She Mad At Dillon Francis (Which time, and which character?) Oh shit. Well. First of all, she is Dillon Francis. Okay. And she hates herself, primarily, right? Right; but--everyone hates themselves. Apparently, they don't. (They do.) So why is she actually mad at Dillon Francis? In the most realistic dimension? Yes. Because he doesn't even know she exists; and if he did, he would just see her as an average fan. He'd never know she was aspiring to be what he's already achieved, and--to add to that, I guess she might be slightly jealous of his friendship with Sonny; What? Or at the very least, his collaborations with Skrillex. Everybody has collaborations with Skrillex. Apparently, they don't. (They do.) So, I guess at the most basic level of anything, she's just angry that she can't understand how to do what they do; and at the core, she's trying to be like either of them--but the music industry's so jaded, she doesn't know if she can trust anyone--esoecually after Magic Is Real That was a good night. She was in a good state of mind; but always questioned the intentions and whether they were in fact, for, or against her. We, someone was trying to get my attention. ...it was you? Of course it was me. I'm the only one giving this many fucks about Dillon Francis. I doubt it. This is a lot of fucks to give about anyone. Or anything. Doesn't matter. Oh, it matters. So why is God mad at Dillon Francis? Well; at one point, he's not even flowing Ze Rules, Nice. Because he's working for The psychonauts and Bampheramphs, and the mothafuckin Bampheramphs, and Homeland security, and the FBI, CIA and secret service respectively; and some private sector white collar guys, I'm not even sure he knows what they're really about. So he's always everywhere, nobody knows how it's possible or why, and he can usually not account for it. Ok, nice. Now, Chak Chel is mad, because she sent him out with a list; but this last time, he just never came back; That's sad. He was her last chance at finding her other half; without him she knows she won't have Time. That's getting deep. Because Hanzel's an angel, or something I thought he was from hell. He is, but he's on all the teams that Dillon's not, plus all the ones he's on at a higher rank. Of course, which makes Hanzel-- AN ACENDED MASTER (Descended, technically) But Chak Chel's not actually mad at Dillon Francis; he might even be her favorite "greatest grandchild", which is why the Google kids turn against him and begin pranking him into ascension. They love him too, but they're jealous of all the time he gets to spend with "Google", I don't think she's called google yet, then Just depends which dimension you're in It is endless Oh God. I spent a year writing about Skrillex and Dillon Francis Mostly skrillex. Mostly Sonny. Who the fuck is Skrillex? I am. ___ Did you get the Skrillex? Yes. Let me see it. This isn't it. This is bogus. Bogus Skrillex? Wake up, it's a new world. ___ Wake up. ___ So wait, he just thinks he's in black rock city the whole time? Playa Magic. WHERE'S GERALD? What? Gerald's not his best friend... And Skrillex isn't mine-- Or is he? I am Skrillex. You wish. Why waste a wish? WHERE'S DIPLO? See, it doesn't work. You're right. We all know where Diplo is (Chillin') Right. Anyway. WHERE'S GERALD? _______ After mysteriously being blasted into a parallel dimension The relationship between SupaCree and the fictional Skrillex is a highly complex and mysterious multi-factor, Multidimensional, and multifaceted And multiracial. Lol Agh, shuttup. The "relationship" acts as a broad platform from which a variety of plot points and timelines within various series in the projects are based in, revolve around, or make reference to, throughout the duration of each story universe respectively. This, however, is the--sometimes, albeit invisible-- line that actually ties together the entirety of the series, and--would lead to an inevitable conclusion to many of the chapters within the story as a whole. SupaCree can be seen as having a 'playfully-pessimiatic' attitude towards, however this can vary along an emotional spectrum from rageful intolerance, to an almost intrinsically, nurturing confidant. Suppresively, and outer expressively, the character works dillegently to manipulate and alter certain realities relating to Skrillex, who remains as a "fictionalized" conceptual character, since the character does not have enough tangible and accurate evidence to prove the working theory, regarding the actual origins from whence the actual inciting event sparking the emotional progression and escalation All in all, she is a loyal friend and fan of any infinite version of Skrillex, eventually settling decicively that there's only "one thing he could do to make her *actually*" hate him", outside of realistically being a horrible person; an idea represented by 'Egotistic Skrillex's, from another reality. Omnipotently, as the writer of the series--it us determined that there "is no Skrillex", which for each facet of the character represents a different meaning or belief. After being lost in a dimension where there is no Skrillex, but having the ability to recreate from photographic and audiographic memory most of his works, Sunni Blu refuses to stay and make herself comfortable there, considering (even despite his nonexistence) it to be plagiarism and theft of creative and intellectual property, which she knows believes rightfully to Sonny; in this event, an exploration of humanity and the emotions drawn from the ideas and concepts in this story [the epic fast] the person behind Skrillex, Sonny Moore is reflected upon more deeply, as, in Ascension, C'estmet-- has departed away from the Kingdoms of the Higher Realms, in denial of her at So that's it, you're just giving up--like that? Not giving up, giving in Are you insane? Yes. The Military? I like the outfits. A flight attendant? I like the outfits. I thought you didn't repeat yourself. I'm not Skrillex. Oh, God. I'm not God. (OH WHAT?) Then who's that? I don't know; Who the fuck are you? Not a fucking flight attendant. I said Who, not What... What's the difference? Why are you stabbing your ice cream. It's low fat ice cream. Okay, that's irrelevant. It's not. It's pretty irrelevant. It's relevant. _______ This. Is not. Going. To Work. Well--did you put the Skrillex in the Skrillex? Yes I put the Skrillex in the Skrillex! ___________ She has like 100 personalities, 99 of them don't like me. Well damn dude, what the fuck did you do to 99 of her personalities? ____________ I SAID, GIVE HIM WHAT HE WANTS. He has everything. Yeah, everything! What else could he possibly want?! THAT'S WHAT I SENT YOU THREE IMBECILES TO FIND OUT. IMBECILES? HEY! I”M NOT AN INBECILE-- Neither am I. --Yeah, I'm just not an expert in Skrillex, or the guy in charge of him. I don't know what he wants! I told you, give him everything. Yeah, everything he wants. What does he want? I don't know. It's hard to find something he doesn't already have. It's one man, how hard could it be? It's hard. _____________ THAT'S IT. THAT'S IT? I'M NOT WRITING THIS STUPID MOVIE FOR HIM IF HE'S JUST GONNA-- JUST GONNA, WHAT? AGH---FUCK COUGHS. You hate her, don't you. I DON'T HATE ANYBODY BUT MYSELF. Is that right? THAT”S RIGHT. ________________ Coughs, Marilyn Hue, and Softest.Hard Draw their rave weapons. HEY! That's not fair! How do you guys have R.A.V.E. weapons; You're not even DJs. Uh, we work with Skrillex. Duh. And she's my roommate. What the FUCK. That is so hot... Uh-oh. What? We are literally all out of FUCKS to give. WHAT?! (Don't repeat yourself.) Yeah. That was our last fuck. And you shouldn't repeat yourself. FUCK. WHAT? If you had a FUCK left you should have saved it to use against them. We're already outnumbered. (Use me.) This is...beyond my paygrade. (Below) (But look, actually—) You're getting paid for this? No. (I am!) Wait, how much am I getting paid for this? (Double!) You're not. I'm--wait, what? Right? Alright, Time's up, Losers. Losers?! We're not Losers, You're Losers. Nuh-uh! Yeah-huh! _____________________________ You gave yourself too much time to think about it. It's too late. What? Just like that. It's always just like that. Yep. Sometimes, you don't even notice. It can be in the instant. what? As soon as your absolute decision of the subjects impossibility, it is. It IS? Yessss. Some things have never even existed entirely, out of disbelief. So wait--you;re saying, if you don't believe in something hard enough, it just..might not exist. Right. At all. Never existed. It was never existent. Ihe Dimension where all my mispellings become literal, and or existent in a personofied matter. *I'M Me- SupaCree Myself - Supacree I- God/ Chak/Google Just play it and go to sleep. Mmm. Itll feel amazing. Nothing feels like it should. Its getting worse. Worse? Whats worse? I wouldnt even dare to more than think it. You think about it every day. Yeah, but i wont say it. Then dont. Just play the album. Its an EP. Shut the fuck up. It is and its not even my favorite, i dont think. It isn't. Its Recess. I dont know...i hated Recess when it came out. You hate Kliptown. I dont hate it...its just...not that good. He knows its not that good. Yeah, but hia die hard fans will eat anything. Like you ate Recess enough to go from downright hating it, to it arguably being youe favorite album. Its not my favorite, its a favorite. Yeah, well. Who's your favorite DJ? What the fuck is a DJ. Damn. He ruined you. Or i was already ruined, and then he just showed up. Why would he just show up like that, for nothing? I am nothing. Then he showed up for you. (Lol) For what? Ask him. How? Find the monsters. Its too late. Its nOt too late. Maybe it's marilyn She's there, she's there I shouldn't care, but I care And I thought I would laugh I'm just glaring I'm just staring into the smoky air In a dark room Hoping I'll be dead soon Hoping she can have you So I can have hope, too Someone that knows you Wants to love you more than I do [oh shit, look at all these girls, hmmm] But nobody Nobody will love you like I do Nobody Nobody will love you like I do Nobody Nobody can Love you like I do [how'd he do this] I'm screaming in my sleep You see me Singing Secrets to keep Weeping underneath The blanket that you left to me It doesn't mean anything; I want you to have everything If she's your everything Let me just die in peace I'm just a nobody [now it's raining music. ] But nobody Nobody will love you like I do Nobody Nobody will love you like I do Nobody Nobody will love you like I do Nobody Nobody can Love you like I do. [Why would he do this? They're all—] Maybe it's *Coughs* I'm lost like I always was I don't know what you cost, sir But I don't have enough This is all I brought; It's awful You were all I thought Was awesome I might have forgotten, The time when, I saw it First. [Slrillexes.] I'm the worst, but-- You're the worst, and You're the best Damn I'll never be the best I guess I should just forget it Just forget it I'm not listening to Skrillex Ever. Again. (After this.) And it never ends; This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship-- Depends on how you see it, Or what you qualify as friends.... What you qualify as friends. Do you want meet your future wife? My wife? Uh, yeah. I don't have a wife. I said future. I said future. I already know about the--wait--how do you know about the future? How do you know about the future? I'm Skrillex...right? Woah, you might want to let go if your ego, a little bit, man-- What are you talking about? Do you want to meet your wife, or what? ...or what? … Or what? You said, 'or what'. What's the what? Dude, it's just an expression--nobody ever questions the alternative. ...I do. That's the spirit, let's go. .wait, what? GOH. Outside of Mildred E. Mathias, she organizes her car, talking to The Gods--she appears to be homeless. As I promised. ...she's...homeless? Call it a mobile home, so to speak. ...no. I know she's not your usual type, but-- Dude--my type? What do you mean my type dude--shes like homeless, bro, she's not even cute. Can you even see that far without your glasses? I got Lasik. In this dimension? *Squints* does it matter? SUPACREE and the SKRILLEXAS. Eyyyy—let's go. DON'T check the She's going to DON'T check the Instagram You fucking loser I can't help it You can help it I don't know why You do know why It's not my fault. Technically, it's his. Ughgg What are you looking for Evidence of romance On INSTAGRAM? Marilyn his girlfriend, let it go Can't. Get it go. Caaaaant You don't know it's Marilyn. Could be anyone. He seems partial to white house and frail. He also has a Dragon. Yeah. More than one, maybe Or one that can replicate itself innumerously. Go Skrilly. Oh, yes. "Go" Why does it matter? I'm gonna get to the bottom of this. There us no bottom of the rabbit hole. Yes there is, alice eventually hit somewhere. That somewhere is wonderland, and Alice seems more his type than you'll ever be. Doesn't matter. Does matter. One. He's a genius. Yeah he is. Two. He's out of your league, by class, and looks. Okay, that's been established. Three; even if you were somehow equally as gifted and intelligent, somewhat wealthy, and in any other way in th3 leaat desirable--you can't change the one thing that really matters. What's that? CUT TO: What's that? That's--nothing. An entire awards show audience is sent throughout the Multiverse. Do NOT Check the-- …. God, I suck. What's his dogs name? Wilfred. That's a decent name for a dog. I feel bad. I'm so obsessive. Don't feel bad, it was bound to happen. Yeah, that's probably why he did it in the first place...pass that. (What did he do?) Yeah...but then how did Dillon Francis manage to break through. (Who the fuck is Dillon Francis?) I don't know, he's like a magnet. (Another mirror…) But how did that happen-- He has a peloton in his-- I mean one minute, you hate Dillon Francis, next thing you know-- It wasn't "the next thing" Well, how did that happen? Hey, did you know OK(*JK) Rowling said she didn't believe in magic. Apparently. Tragic. She is so cancelled. Well illuminati probably frowns upon acknowledging occult practices. ...they're letting women in the illuminati now? White ones, probably, at least. Oh. What about Oprah? Who The Fuck Is Oprah? I am. Thats...Fantastic. Dude! Don't believe your eyes; he is a master if illusion. He is a lot of things. Dont fall for his trickery! I really doubt it's his trickery, I mean; this whole thing is starting to feel like a joint effort. I mean--google, all the socials--disney, NBC… They're trying to make me kill myself. Or theyre grooming you for something. Outruled. Whoever's in charge is doing a great job at letting me know i am replaceable Replaceable? Please. Yah. All these ads with pretty light skinned biracial girls; all these models, actresses,dancers , child stars--its like they're shoving it in my face that there are a million wannabe everything's that look like me, but better--doing everything I do--but better. What do you do? Nothing. Right. So I guess something's better than nothing. It's all easy when youre pretty. If you were pretty, you wouldn't be writing this. Exactly. Wait--so? So maybe, that's what he needs. Who--? You know Who? No...he needs a hot wife to go with all that stuff. So then, what about Dillon Francis? He also needs a hot wife. And a dog maybe? I don't know. What about all the other artists? What about them? What do they need? NOTHING. These people dont need anything, they have everything! Then why are they always drinking? For...fun, I guess? Drinking's only fun when it's not all the time. I can agree, but how does that apply to me? Because you never drink! So, I can. But you don't--and you don't have to. So. So maybe it doesn't matter how fat or tragically ugly you are, or if your skin's too dark and your eyes are uneven and too far apart--and your hair just kind of grows out of your head all...sad like that-- --okay--??? Maybe what matters is that you've proven you can be creative, and practice self control. SO WHAT. Everyone you're looking at has a red solo cup in their hands, and you keep thinking that's the question--but that's the answer! Answer to what? How is a cup a question? How is a Raven LIKE a writing desk? Cause she's writing this. A Trampoline... ...an indoor trampoline…. oh... a house…(for my indoor trampoline)... Whatcha dooooin? WRiting a rough draft. Ahhhh, for the movie? Nah. For Satan. SATAN? Shhhhhhh. DAMN. Damn-Damn. Goddamn. Don't. _____ NO! Don't write a movie about Skrillex. I already did. Well, undo. Un...do? Undo! He's gonna sue you. What an honor. I should sue HIM! Don't. He'll win. He's a winner. Fuck him! ___ Who the fuck is Skrillex. That's my guy! The homie. Just a friend. My soul mate (Apparently) My best friend. My favorite DJ I am Skrillex. You wish. I did wish, now i'm Skrillex. What for? Hey, he owes me! I don't owe you shit. You are not Skrillex. I am Skrillex. I'm about as Skrillex as it gets. I am Skrillex. Jump on top of something and headbang. Gimmie a mixer. Ohhh, A mixer. Tell Satan you want a new mixer! Yes! That's exactly what I need… But not just a mixer; all the decks. New decks. New decks. New decks. Yesssssss. ________ Oh shit, Dillon Francis! Yeah. What do you want? A beer. That sucks. I don't drink. I do . Fuck yeah, me too. Cheers. Wait, who the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you? Why collect all the Skrillex if you're not gonna play it. I might play it. I mean, when you DJ? Oh, no, fuck that. See! What is WRONG with you? I don't _____ Oh, I get i; He's black so he likes-- SHHHHH. Don't ruin it. He ruined himself. Agh, She ruined it. She ruined everything. Annie ruins everything. Ah shit ____ FAQUEEEE! What, dude!? FAQUEEEE!!! WHAT do you WANT? FAQUEEEE!!! WHAT, DAFUQ? ____ Agh! That stupid dance! That dance, I know that dance.... Oh, the dance. ___ Oh, my God...What the fuck. Uh...yeah...what the fuck. Oh, My God. Whose house is this?? I don't know... ...I fell asleep at a festival… Which...festival…? I don't know… Okay, I'm so sorry, but-- I'm so sorry--- Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you? Uhhhh… -_- … … ... ______ Ugh! Agh! Did you get all the Skrillex? I got all the Skrillex. All the Skrillex? Yes, all of it. Okay. Okay. This is gonna suck. I know. What other choice do we have? We have no choice. I mean. How. I don't know. I don't know how how he does it, he just does it. It's impressive. I did this. WHAT? HOW? Relax, I had help. HELP. Wait, who's help? Who's there? What the fuck does DIllon Francis want? I don't know. I don't know anything. Is it done yet? What? The movie. I don't know. Well did you start? Yes, I...started it? Okay, now send it. Do what--no. Okay, then shoot it-- No, it's not-- What's wrong? Nothing's wrong with it, it's just not done yet. Okay...so what's it need? Structure. What kind of structure. Anything. Dodgers Stadium, Wow! I know it's... I've always wanted to go there. WHAT? ALIENS? ALIENS. FROM THE FUTURE. FROM THE--Well, there is no ‘future' ‘No future?' Well, technically, no. “No”? Look, i'll explain it to you later. If there's no future, when's later? Now. So tell me. Look--no, later, just-- Wait. You're going too fast. Well, how much do you have? This is gonna be a loooooong night. Well what, you're gonna write ‘Dillonception' during 25 days of Skrillex? I mean, what--am I supposed to write it tonight? Tonight? That's a lot of Dillon Francis. Yikes. I well, I mean-- K dude, just call this number. 907, what the fuck is-- ‘ Just, when we say “go” call the number. For what? Is this another prank? Just wait. ____ What the fuck is “Skrillex” Fuck, I hate that fool. I hate you. Fuck you. Fuck Skrillex. That's what I just said. What. Oh, he's terrifying. Skrillex? No he's not. He's adorable! I love Skrillex Go kill yourself. I did...I still love Skrillex. Skrillex?! Where No, not Skrillex. Anything but Skrillex. Ohhh, Skrillex again? Yes! Skrillex. Who's Skrillex? What's Skrillex. Not this again. I am Skrillex. On what planet? This one...and Skrillex. You're not Skrillex. I am Skrillex. You wish. I did wish. Now i'm Skrillex. I did not have sexual relations with Skrillex. (I did.) And so did Annie. In--which--dimension? Any dimension. Pick one. Nah. that didn't happen. Yeah, you're probably right. I am right. I'm always right. ______ This is the tension Released in te midsts Of emissions from the ship We traveled the dimensions in Now, that I mention it-- I probably shouldn't mention this That would be against the-- Shit. Who instigated it, just Is, what it is Let's just forfeit that we existed We just probably shouldn't Mention this It could be infinite, if we just Didn't Awwww, wait, who's in there? Pretty much everyone. Even-- Everyone but Skrillex. Alright, cool. Let's go. Awwww, wait, who's in there? Pretty much everyone. Even-- Everyone but Skrillex. Alright, cool. Let's go. How. I don't know. I don't know how he does it, he just does it. It's impressive. I did this. WHAT? HOW? Relax, I had help. HELP. Wait, who's help? Who's there? What the fuck does DIllon Francis want? I don't know. I don't know anything. Is it done yet? What? The movie. I don't know. Well did you start? Yes, I...started it? Okay, now send it. Do what--no. Okay, then shoot it-- No, it's not-- What's wrong? Nothing's wrong with it, it's just not done yet. Okay...so what's it need? Structure. What kind of structure. Anything. Dodgers Stadium, Wow! I know it's... I've always wanted to go there. WHAT? ALIENS? ALIENS. FROM THE FUTURE. FROM THE--Well, there is no ‘future' ‘No future?' Well, technically, no. “No”? Look, i'll explain it to you later. If there's no future, when's later? Now. So tell me. Look--no, later, just-- Wait. You're going too fast. Well, how much do you have? This is gonna be a loooooong night. Well what, you're gonna write ‘Dillonception' during 25 days of Skrillex? I mean, what--am I supposed to write it tonight? Tonight? That's a lot of Dillon Francis. Yikes. I well, I mean-- K dude, just call this number. 907, what the fuck is-- Just, when we say “go” call the number. For what? Is this another prank. Just wait. ____ I don't even think i'm ready to write this. You have to at least try. If you don't bet, you can't win. I'm not trying to win anything. But you have to try. I am always trying. Try harder. Try Harder. The Dimension where Skrillex... Is just a kid named Skrillex ______ He's taking ‘time on it; Time... Do you know how much that costs? ...Priceless. It is... priceless. ____ I wish I could do this artfully. I do't think there's any “artful “ way to do this. Ehmm. To What? To Categorize--…. Categorize the Skrillex? To categorize the-- yes. Well,, you should probably start by collecting the Skrillex. --COllecting the Skrillex-- Oh God. No. Please? No. And then there's God's complete refusal to help any further with this particular problem. I already told you what it was. But what, that's it? All of all time? And then what? ‘And den?1 What? I already told you, and told you, and I told you again--the answer has laways been the asmae, and in the end it's all the same thing! And then what?! And then, what the fuck do you want from me?! Tell me what to do. I did! Awh, fuck! Fuck what! All my Skrillex... Good show. No. I mean, all my Skrillex Music? It's gone. Gone? ...yes. All gone? Gone. How Gone. Skrillex gone. That's... Pshhh. So now what. I don't know what the fuck Why don't you just-- Don't-- Go to Skrillex. I knew you were gonna say that. _____ I'm about as Skrillex as it's gonna get until Skrillex walks in. f Where is she? She was just here a minute ago! Where is he? He was just here a minute ago! Both- What the fuck is "minute"? What's the password? Password? What password? There's a password? Its LOCKED. OUT! its over. Over & Out. He's out of it. She's so over it. Show's OVER folks! I'm out of it. I'm into it, I'm into it-- Tell me whats next! Next! Next? That was it. Thank you, Next-- A game combining all the high impact sports where the rules change randomly, and the teams are divided differently in each round. That's a fuck show. Its good entertainment. ___ Well, how did they play this, of the court is down there, and that "hoop" is up there? Well they could still fly. Humans could fly?! I mean, they had to, right? NO. Sure they did; you would not have wanted to be earthbound back then. (The other shakes his head.) A giant dino terrorizes the creatures below, as the 'primitive' humans take to the sky. _____ We find that behind out hero'sain drive to "find" Skrillex is to __ What kind of nail you want? Acryllics-- AKRILLEX. (Super corny old fashioned kung fu scene.) ___ Wow. Its like that, sometimes. __ You can't put me in a box! Unless it has Skrillex in it; Then I honestly can't guarantee anyone's safety. ____ ...any way, she's trying to find out why Skrillex has such a pronounced physical affect on her body. Ew. That's...not what I meant. Its okay. No, I just meant-- Its cool, we get it. ____ You don't get it; I'm trying to find out why Skrillex makes me CLIP CLIP CLIP AH And how Skrillexx // CLIP CLIP CLUP Wait. So wait. Rich people are just doing things that make them feel good, all the time...because they can, so-- Yeah. Right. Okay. So then, poor people are always doing things that make them feel bad; not because they want to, but they have to-- Kind of. --and the things they do that make them feel good, actually cost them, somehow, in the longrun, technically-- Correct. --so the only way to 'escape' this predicament, would be to forgo things which would make them happy, so that they can accumulate--wait-- I thought money doesn't buy happiness. It doesn't. It "buys" success. Then how do you escape poverty? Annie's just another body Men like bodies I'm just another heart, but Men like bodies We are both broken, but Men like broken bodies Broken hearts are just Impossible responsibilities Irresponsible possibilities I'm not Annie I'm not Claire, Not Marilyn Not Supacree Not Skrillex...or, Sonny Not anybody that has to be Something or anything For anybody's anything I'm nothing nothing Nothing nothing Nothing nothing Nothing nothing Sorry I'm Amy My baby, he Drops the album, goes on tour I'm crying on the kitchen floor But I'll be at the bottom Of every bottle In the eyes of every model In the smile of every dancer Behind every mirror Today and tomorrow All this impossible Irresponsible, improbable Honorary God-awkward Opera of songs is Converted to a catalogue I'm sorry I bothered Don't knock, if Opportunity comes, Just rocket. You see, As long as she thinks theres some big chance with Sonny, she'll likely just keep writing… The significance of Skrillex. But if she havent any chance, or a fairytale romance shes jiust as likely to die inside--or outside--without writing the rest of the bible… The significance of Skrillex And, you see, She writes things to live by, Hidden in the hundreds of titles A writer's a writer-- An idol's an idol; And she lives inside his eyes-- And he lives inside a lie… And they live inside a life, If they don't see eye to eye To get it right this time, They might as well, Die. The Significance of Skrillex is… Where am I? Hell. In bed. In mexico. So where is he? Somewhere else. At home. In mexico. Who knows? Someone must. I'm someone. But i don't. I don't know anything. I don't need to. I just wanna go home. Can I come home now? You always could. But really, I mean-- Really's all it really takes. You have to know, You have to mean it; Don't look both ways before you cross, if you honestly want off the cross Christ, for your sake Honestly It's probably wise to admit that you've tried For the third time; Mankind's just not worth it. Mankind, maybe; But humanity's my baby And this earth is definitely worth something I love it-- Her. And the rest of the planets, but Look how she spins, It's magnificent, Look at the way the ocean's Make this mist; And the wind-- If i sing loudly enough I might Vibrate the trees, How they love dancing and laughing for me; And I just can't help but to laugh at her inhabitants; They dance oh-so rhythmically They're very creative-- and grateful, they always give thanks to me It's no need, but the Earth, she keeps feeding them She makes these beautiful things, So sweet; Mangoes, I think. Greed; The Parable of the Mango Tree Mango VIP. That's easy. The cover art's just got a Mango On it, White Backdrop; It looks super juicy; with a green leaf, I think. Who made it? Uhhhhh. ^> Uhhhhh... You forgot! No! I know, I know. It was.... Who? She forgot again. I did NOT. Did too. Who made it? It was...it was...Herobust! Herobust? Wasn't it? Wrong. Loser. I am not a Loser. It was…Was it Ganja White Night? I don't know, was it? Was it? I don't know! Just tell me. I can't. Yes you can! I can't. Your rules-- Exactly, it's my rules! Just gimmie the answer! I think you're going to have to GOOGLE it. Ugh, no way. So is Liquid Stranger your final answer? Liquid Stranger?! I never said Liquid Stranger. Idiot. Now she's never gonna get it. What did you say before? It was...oh... See dude. Shut up, I had iFUCK. Damn dude, you broke her. I'm not broken, I just forgot - Liquid Stranger, going once-- I never said Liquid Stranger! I know it wasn't Liquid Stranger; Why would it ever be Liquid Stranger? Martin Stääf? ...Yes... Come with me. ___ It's a practical __ Remember that plane I showed you--the-- Yeah, with the Axis? Yeah. Yeah? Something happened to it, Like what? It's flat now. WHAT? Woah. >^ I didn't see that one coming! Neither did I: I was gonaa say it was off it's axis. Flat's funnier. Yeah, and probably not as tragic. I mean...that would be pretty tragic. Probably easier to manage. Perhaps…But I mean, if you have a whole planet, and then it just collapses-- It's just flattened; nobody said it collapses. __________ Getter, we meet again. I've never met you before; what are you doing in my dressing room? Why does a DJ have a dressing room? I don't know; get out. Tanner Petulla? Yeah? Come with us. Fuck that! [He doesn't have a choice.] Oh shit, the next scene is already written, I remember this. Oh, okay! I get it! Yeah. She's still at-- She's still on the-- ____ JUST KILL YOURSELF ALREADY. For what? You're suck in this until it's done. What's done? It'll never be over, it's just infinite. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE ^ UNTITLED DOCUMENT >< >< >< YOU'RE GONNA LISTEN TO SKRILLEX ON YOUTUBE? DON”T I mean, DON'T you dare. I might as well, by the time I finish downloading it i probably won't even be able to listen to it. You shouldn't. I shouldn't, but I know i have to. In PUBLIC? Could go Incognito? INCOGNITO; The “oh please don't look at this” easy algorithm engine for “LOOK AT ME, I”M HIDING SOMETHING.” So if a song, is nothing but question and answer, what's a song which references another in an attempt to address the question which was asked? A conversation between one song and another? I guess, yes; Well, that would be a symphony, I would suppose. It would, wouldn't it. That is, if the songs were in sync. They could be made to be. Every song is made to be in sync; I mean, two songs, made to be in sync with each other. _______ WAKE UP. This isn't funny anymore. It was never funny. You have to get up. I'm up. You're NOT UP. Come on, you have to do this . I'm doin it. NO. It's no use. She's so, so under there. It would take all of us to try to pull her out--that is without [The darkening sky crumbles, as the thunderous storm rages, the battle between worlds expands throughout the outer galaxies.] ____ Youre not skinny enough Youre not pretty enough You're too dark, And you dont work quickly enough Much younger girls are putting in such Efforts, just to be, the perfect little beauty queen You wish you were, But couldn't be and kids these days are Everything that means anything Sometimes I Don't Wanna Be Happy… It was bad, But better than I'll ever be A basic remix, For the basic bitch that sings it And, I'm basically a Dillon Francis fiend, Have you seen this? Now it's getting serious, I seriously doubt there's anything I can do about it It's in God's hands and, I live in Satan's house How did he do this? How did this happen? The sad result of the damage, Cause i'm pretty sure The very last time my ex ever hit me Something got stuck on repeat; It's just eating me up. ___ what did we call that place, between “The Blackout” and waking up. Hazy. I thought it was something more clever. Maybe, but i'll never find it if i'm just scrolling through these documents. Write”Untitled Document” That's all I've got, I guess. _____ A wild, wild party has happened. A DJ wakes up, previously having been sprawled out across the floor. Whose house is this…? Ugh. [Looks in mirror.] ughhh. S/he gets up and stumbles groggily, stepping over bodies hunched and perched, slung about sleeping. Peacefully. The sun is bright, a curse to the eyes of the clearly hungover, and likely still quite inebriated DJ. >>> SUPACREE awakens from a ‘stupor' herself, displeased. She looks in the mirror, at first disgruntled, then “picks up her face” adjusts her perception, and decides, “I'm good.” Yep. And she keeps it steppin, still asking aloud, as she ponders to herself; Whose house is this? And makes her way into the kitchen, where she (probably in a montage) cleans around the many bodies of hot people and rave babies still smudged and dripping in everything glittery; she appears to have ‘frozen time', as she vacuums faces and erases permanent marker penises drawn onto the foreheads and other exposed body parts of those who have fallen asleep with no shoes on. She cooks breakfast and straightens the entirety of what is now more recognizable as someone's home, though the owner still remains unknown. She sips coffee and reads the newspaper, as she steps behind the freshly detailed decks; and prepares a set through the headphones shes hung happily around her neck. See! THIS IS RIDICULOUS. It is. Ridiculous. You can't vacuum someone's face! Not that part-- Especially white people-- You never said they were all white people. I mean, predominantly; it said hot people and rave babies. That's racist! It isn't. This whole scene would be entirely different, if it had nothing but black people in it. ___ She wakes up in the same house, but it's clean. ...Whose house is this? It's my house. It's... nice. Yes it is. ______ Ugh, he knows everything. Not everything, dear, believe me. Everything that matters. There's no such thing as everything that doesn't matter. What? __ Don't look in there! You won't find anything in there. I hate these things. ____ It doesn't work if you don't practice. How do I practice without decks? You don't. How do I Dj without practicing? You don't. So DJing is just for rich people? I mean, primarily, or just...anyone with money, if you have it. Fuck this, I quit. You can't quit. If you quit we forfeit the game. No... You idiot. What game? I thought she knew about the game. What. game. Well, it's not just a game, it's a language. WHAT GAME. She's about to be so angry, dude, just--- Just run. ___ 8 Dimensional--wait, what? Oh, she finally made it. I never thought she'd get to this part. Well, she stopped eating meat and cooks asian food-- ---yeah, but that's like 6 different places-- She's not listening to Skrillex. --She's not skipping it-- --yeah, but she isn't listening to it actively.-- Josh Pan. Yeah. I am. Why. I thought we were past “why” We were, we were WAY past “why” It wasn't really a question, guys, don't worry about it. “Don't worry about it” Tsh. Tsh. ___ It's just an expression. “expression” yes. I get it-- ___ He named it “Kliptown Empyrean” What. What's “Empyrean”? I'd love to know, but I don't. Don't google it. I won't, I just. __ GO KARTS. With A K. __ Where's Kliptown? South of Capetown? South? South Afri-- Stop. HE”S AFRICAN? Stop. What's more offensive; Being called an African, or an Alien? ___ One off...hmmm… Always one off. ___ Get out of my house! This is your house? Thank God, I was starting to worry the owner like wandered off and got lost; or, you know (makes slitting throat) I... no, this is my--wait. Who are you? Me? I'm S U P A C R E E “S U P A C R E E”? [having been yet unrecognized, shes is used to having to spell it] Yeah; ___ Key of Cringe: I'm in a box with all my thoughts, And I am not on top of the world Or taking shots, I'm just rocking back and forth Like broken record, Repeating sequences, a robot A beat box of kittens Nobody wants I'm lost (if rock and roll will take me I wonder how much it costs) ____ What did this kid do? Nobody knows _Oh, shit, it's the Jews again. I love the Jews. We know. I keep telling you, you're jewish I'm not jewish my mom's… That's not your mom. Of course that's my mom. It's not, I already told you what planet you're on? __ Now, tell us why we wear our masks! Oh, there are lots of reasons for that. Tell us about the Sauce! All the sauce? Yeah!!! That would be a long story. __ Oh, the Google kids are cute, too. I especially love that little chunky one. He is cute, he's probably my favorite, actually. ...No favorites. Now I remember why he isn't. WHO IS THIS. He cheated. I...don't care. Because, Everywhere I've been, And everywhere I am-- Woman or man, You Just don't know how to love me As I am That is Goddammed. ____ PIERCE? Who the fuck is PIERCE? Google it. I like this, this is It's different, isn't it? Yeah, and then it __ THAT was a HARD left turn. __ So, what time can we listen to Excision? Sometime after intermission? How many acts is this again? ___ I told you, IN-FIN-ITE. Okay… I just wanted to know how long it would take? ___ I know someone that cold get us in _____ (Sitting on a speaker in the BassPod) What is she doing? What are you doing? Charging. __________ I think I found that girl you were looking for. Where is she? I said I found her: I didn't say you could have her. She's not a possession, I'm just trying to talk to her. You didn't mention that she was-- Be careful with your words. Oh, I think it's you that ought to be careful. You're losing your power over her and it shows. Mm. And what about your ‘power', hm? I haven't any power over her-- Oh, but you do-- Will Power at best, That would only be half of it. That would be all I had anything to do with; she was given free agency. HA. “Given”? ____ awww look at that bass face. Well, that's one reason... __ Ah what! you can change your entire frequency? No Fair, I cant do that You can, it just takes practice. What kind of practice-- ___ Oh shit, this hits different with two headphones. It all hits different with headphones. That dude has a huge Discography. ___ What'd you get? I dunno...words. Let me see. [Hands over bucket] ...some good stuff in here. ...thanks. Lots of fucks. Yeah. Almost too many. Is that a problem? Not at all...not...at...all… __ 'fuck hunting' ___ Happy Dillon Francis Merry Skrillex! ___ Is your name...really Dillon Francis? Yes. Is it? Yes…? Are you sure? I was. You seem unsure. Well, now I am… Where am I? Hell. In bed. In mexico. So where is he? Somewhere else. At home. In mexico. Who knows? Someone must. I'm someone. But i don't. I don't know anything. I don't need to. I just wanna go home. Can I come home now? You always could. But really, I mean-- Really's all it really takes. You have to know, You have to mean it; Don't look both ways before you cross, if you honestly want off the cross Christ, for your sake Honestly It's probably wise to admit that you've tried For the third time; Mankind's just not worth it. Mankind, maybe; But humanity's my baby And this earth is definitely worth something I love it-- Her. And the rest of the planets, but Look how she spins, It's magnificent, Look at the way the ocean's Make this mist; And the wind-- If i sing loudly enough I might Vibrate the trees, How they love dancing and laughing for me; And I just can't help but to laugh at her inhabitants; They dance oh-so rhythmically They're very creative-- and grateful, they always give thanks to me It's no need, but the Earth, she keeps feeding them She makes these beautiful things, So sweet; Mangoes, I think. Greed; The Parable of the Mango Tree Mango VIP. That's easy. The cover art's just got a Mango On it, White Backdrop; It looks super juicy; with a green leaf, I think. Who made it? Uhhhhh. ^> Uhhhhh... You forgot! No! I know, I know. It was.... Who? She forgot again. I did NOT. Did too. Who made it? It was...it was...Herobust! Herobust? Wasn't it? Wrong. Loser. I am not a Loser. It was…Was it Ganja White Night? I don't know, was it? Was it? I don't know! Just tell me. I can't. Yes you can! I can't. Your rules-- Exactly, it's my rules! Just gimmie the answer! I think you're going to have to GOOGLE it. Ugh, no way. So is Liquid Stranger your final answer? Liquid Stranger?! I never said Liquid Stranger. Idiot. Now she's never gonna get it. What did you say before? It was...oh... See dude. Shut up, I had iFUCK. Damn dude, you broke her. I'm not broken, I just forgot - Liquid Stranger, going once-- I never said Liquid Stranger! I know it wasn't Liquid Stranger; Why would it ever be Liquid Stranger? Martin Stääf? ...Yes... Come with me. ___ It's a practical __ Remember that plane I showed you--the-- Yeah, with the Axis? Yeah. Yeah? Something happened to it, Like what? It's flat now. WHAT? Woah. >^ I didn't see that one coming! Neither did I: I was gonaa say it was off it's axis. Flat's funnier. Yeah, and probably not as tragic. I mean...that would be pretty tragic. Probably easier to manage. Perhaps…But I mean, if you have a whole planet, and then it just collapses-- It's just flattened; nobody said it collapses. __________ Getter, we meet again. I've never met you before; what are you doing in my dressing room? Why does a DJ have a dressing room? I don't know; get out. Tanner Petulla? Yeah? Come with us. Fuck that! [He doesn't have a choice.] Oh shit, the next scene is already written, I remember this. Oh, okay! I get it! Yeah. She's still at-- She's still on the-- ____ JUST KILL YOURSELF ALREADY. For what? You're suck in this until it's done. What's done? It'll never be over, it's just infinite. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE ^ UNTITLED DOCUMENT >< >< >< YOU'RE GONNA LISTEN TO SKRILLEX ON YOUTUBE? DON”T I mean, DON'T you dare. I might as well, by the time I finish downloading it i probably won't even be able to listen to it. You shouldn't. I shouldn't, but I know i have to. In PUBLIC? Could go Incognito? INCOGNITO; The “oh please don't look at this” easy algorithm engine for “LOOK AT ME, I”M HIDING SOMETHING.” So if a song, is nothing but question and answer, what's a song which references another in an attempt to address the question which was asked? A conversation between one song and another? I guess, yes; Well, that would be a symphony, I would suppose. It would, wouldn't it. That is, if the songs were in sync. They could be made to be. Every song is made to be in sync; I mean, two songs, made to be in sync with each other. _______ WAKE UP. This isn't funny anymore. It was never funny. You have to get up. I'm up. You're NOT UP. Come on, you have to do this . I'm doin it. NO. It's no use. She's so, so under there. It would take all of us to try to pull her out--that is without [The darkening sky crumbles, as the thunderous storm rages, the battle between worlds expands throughout the outer galaxies.] ____ Youre not skinny enough Youre not pretty enough You're too dark, And you dont work quickly enough Much younger girls are putting in such Efforts, just to be, the perfect little beauty queen You wish you were, But couldn't be and kids these days are Everything that means anything Sometimes I Don't Wanna Be Happy… It was bad, But better than I'll ever be A basic remix, For the basic bitch that sings it And, I'm basically a Dillon Francis fiend, Have you seen this? Now it's getting serious, I seriously doubt there's anything I can do about it It's in God's hands and, I live in Satan's house How did he do this? How did this happen? The sad result of the damage, Cause i'm pretty sure The very last time my ex ever hit me Something got stuck on repeat; It's just eating me up. ___ what did we call that place, between “The Blackout” and waking up. Hazy. I thought it was something more clever. Maybe, but i'll never find it if i'm just scrolling through these documents. Write”Untitled Document” That's all I've got, I guess. _____ A wild, wild party has happened. A DJ wakes up, previously having been sprawled out across the floor. Whose house is this…? Ugh. [Looks in mirror.] ughhh. S/he gets up and stumbles groggily, stepping over bodies hunched and perched, slung about sleeping. Peacefully. The sun is bright, a curse to the eyes of the clearly hungover, and likely still quite inebriated DJ. >>> SUPACREE awakens from a ‘stupor' herself, displeased. She looks in the mirror, at first disgruntled, then “picks up her face” adjusts her perception, and decides, “I'm good.” Yep. And she keeps it steppin, still asking aloud, as she ponders to herself; Whose house is this? And makes her way into the kitchen, where she (probably in a montage) cleans around the many bodies of hot people and rave babies still smudged and dripping in everything glittery; she appears to have ‘frozen time', as she vacuums faces and erases permanent marker penises drawn onto the foreheads and other exposed body parts of those who have fallen asleep with no shoes on. She cooks breakfast and straightens the entirety of what is now more recognizable as someone's home, though the owner still remains unknown. She sips coffee and reads the newspaper, as she steps behind the freshly detailed decks; and prepares a set through the headphones shes hung happily around her neck. See! THIS IS RIDICULOUS. It is. Ridiculous. You can't vacuum someone's face! Not that part-- Especially white people-- You never said they were all white people. I mean, predominantly; it said hot people and rave babies. That's racist! It isn't. This whole scene would be entirely different, if it had nothing but black people in it. ___ She wakes up in the same house, but it's clean. ...Whose house is this? It's my house. It's... nice. Yes it is. ______ Ugh, he knows everything. Not everything, dear, believe me. Everything that matters. There's no such thing as everything that doesn't matter. What? __ Don't look in there! You won't find anything in there. I hate these things. ____ It doesn't work if you don't practice. How do I practice without decks? You don't. How do I Dj without practicing? You don't. So DJing is just for rich people? I mean, primarily, or just...anyone with money, if you have it. Fuck this, I quit. You can't quit. If you quit we forfeit the game. No... You idiot. What game? I thought she knew about the game. What. game. Well, it's not just a game, it's a language. WHAT GAME. She's about to be so angry, dude, just--- Just run. ___ 8 Dimensional--wait, what? Oh, she finally made it. I never thought she'd get to this part. Well, she stopped eating meat and cooks asian food-- ---yeah, but that's like 6 different places-- She's not listening to Skrillex. --She's not skipping it-- --yeah, but she isn't listening to it actively.-- Josh Pan. Yeah. I am. Why. I thought we were past “why” We were, we were WAY past “why” It wasn't really a question, guys, don't worry about it. “Don't worry about it” Tsh. Tsh. ___ It's just an expression. “expression” yes. I get it-- ___ He named it “Kliptown Empyrean” What. What's “Empyrean”? I'd love to know, but I don't. Don't google it. I won't, I just. __ GO KARTS

The High Rise podcast is once again on location, this time for the week of 4/20 at the Benzinga Cannabis Conference in beautiful Miami Beach Florida.Our hosts Cy and Emily set up poolside to have more laid back, data-backed conversations with some of the industry's movers and shakers.  On this episode, we have Abner Kurtin founder & CEO of Ascend Wellness Holdings join us to talk about his role, his own personal history with cannabis, and what the future might hold for this still nascent industry.Thank you as always for streaming in to the High Rise, be sure to rate and subscribe to the podcast and stay up-to-date on all the latest episodes!https://awholdings.com/management/abner-kurtin/https://www.linkedin.com/in/abner-kurtin-78b8b66b/

Ryan Frederick is a Principal at AWH, a technology consulting firm that helps companies grow by leveraging technology. In this podcast, we talk with Ryan about how the Columbus tech community got built, what makes a strong tech ecosystem, and the hype and realities of new technologies.Ryan is a Founder and product person at heart. He's had the privilege of being part of starting and growing several software and service companies. Ryan has helped companies grow from inception, to viability, through to sustainability. During the evolution of these companies, Ryan has served on company boards and been instrumental in capitalization activities. He has also helped companies to expand to international markets. Combining a unique blend of business acumen and technical knowledge having originally been a developer who migrated to the business side, Ryan now helps companies build great software products and solve data challenges for competitive advantage as a Principal at the product and data consulting firm, AWH. He's an active angel investor, mentors and advises entrepreneurs and startups, as well as corporate innovation leaders. Ryan launched a non-profit workforce development program to train under-employed adults on digital skills called i.c.stars. He's authored a book on increasing the odds of success in creating products, being a Founder, and starting companies called The Founder's Manual: A Guidebook for Becoming a Successful Entrepreneur. Ryan speaks frequently about the product, Founder, and startup journeys.Learn more about AWH: www.awh.netConnect with Ryan on LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/ryangfrederick

Trying to figure out upcoming trends? Jon talks with Christopher Slee, the Founder, Principal, and Chief Product Officer at AWH. Chris is responsible for monitoring market trends, technology requirements, identifying room for growth, and opportunities for innovation. Chris Slee is the Founder, Principal, and Chief Product Officer at AWH, a software engineering firm in Dublin, Ohio with 30 years of experience developing innovative digital products. At AWH, Chris is responsible for monitoring market trends, technology requirements, identifying room for growth, and opportunities for innovation. Even though he has been programming for over 3 decades, and has built over 4,500 applications, he continues to blaze the trail in technology. Chris's latest venture, IncludeHealth, leverages machine learning, proprietary algorithms, and web camera technology to support a seamless blend of onsite and remote musculoskeletal services – anywhere, anytime. Connect with Jon Dwoskin: Twitter: @jdwoskin Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jonathan.dwoskin Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thejondwoskinexperience/ Website: https://jondwoskin.com/LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jondwoskin/ Email: jon@jondwoskin.com Get Jon's Book: The Think Big Movement: Grow your business big. Very Big!   Connect with Christopher Slee: Website: https://www.awh.net/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/ChrisSlee LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/chrisslee/

Like any emerging industry, legal cannabis will not be able to reach its full potential without the support of lawyers in all sectors. In this episode, T. Andrew Brown, president of AWH New York and president of the New York State Bar Association, offers his unique perspective as an attorney on the future of cannabis in the state of New York and beyond. As New York begins to establish the framework of its legal market, he emphasizes the importance of embedding social equity components into legislation to address the impact of cannabis prohibition head-on. He explains the ways in which AWH is working to create meaningful and equitable legislation and support efforts in record-sealing, expungement, education and more to build up the communities most affected.

Christopher Slee Founder, Principal, and CPO Christopher Slee is the Founder, Principal, and Chief Product Officer at AWH, a Dublin, Ohio software engineering firm currently celebrating its 26th year of creating innovative digital products for business clients. With over 30 years of experience, Chris has built over 4500 applications. Every birth certificate and death certificate in the State of Ohio runs through a system that he designed. Chris's latest venture, IncludeHealth, leverages machine learning, proprietary algorithms, and web camera technology to support a seamless blend of onsite and remote musculoskeletal services – anywhere, anytime. At AWH, Chris leads internal and external development teams across all applications, from web, mobile, and desktop platforms, to virtual reality and machine learning. Even though Chris has been programming for more than 30-years, he continues to push the technology envelope. From drones to artificial intelligence, Chris Slee exemplifies the spirit of continual learning in the tech space. As a passionate technologist and mentor, Chris founded Dev: Launch, an apprenticeship program where aspiring software developers have the opportunity to work on real client projects alongside experienced development teams. As a mentor, Chris teaches apprentices how to be efficient and productive developers, not just how to write code. +1 614-989-1484 chris.slee@awh.net https://www.linkedin.com/in/chrisslee/ (https://www.linkedin.com/in/chrisslee/) https://twitter.com/chrisslee?lang=en (https://twitter.com/chrisslee?lang=en) https://www.awh.net (https://www.awh.net) Video https://youtu.be/VKwo69qTVKo (https://youtu.be/VKwo69qTVKo) This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis: AdBarker - https://adbarker.com/privacy Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp Chartable - https://chartable.com/privacy

Christopher Slee Founder, Principal, and CPO Christopher Slee is the Founder, Principal, and Chief Product Officer at AWH, a Dublin, Ohio software engineering firm currently celebrating its 26th year of creating innovative digital products for business clients. With over 30 years of experience, Chris has built over 4500 applications. Every birth certificate and death certificate in the State of Ohio runs through a system that he designed. Chris's latest venture, IncludeHealth, leverages machine learning, proprietary algorithms, and web camera technology to support a seamless blend of onsite and remote musculoskeletal services – anywhere, anytime. At AWH, Chris leads internal and external development teams across all applications, from web, mobile, and desktop platforms, to virtual reality and machine learning. Even though Chris has been programming for more than 30-years, he continues to push the technology envelope. From drones to artificial intelligence, Chris Slee exemplifies the spirit of continual learning in the tech space. As a passionate technologist and mentor, Chris founded Dev: Launch, an apprenticeship program where aspiring software developers have the opportunity to work on real client projects alongside experienced development teams. As a mentor, Chris teaches apprentices how to be efficient and productive developers, not just how to write code. +1 614-989-1484 chris.slee@awh.net https://www.linkedin.com/in/chrisslee/ (https://www.linkedin.com/in/chrisslee/) https://twitter.com/chrisslee?lang=en (https://twitter.com/chrisslee?lang=en) https://www.awh.net (https://www.awh.net) Video https://youtu.be/VKwo69qTVKo (https://youtu.be/VKwo69qTVKo) This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis: Podtrac - https://analytics.podtrac.com/privacy-policy-gdrp Chartable - https://chartable.com/privacy Support this podcast

So just like that, Melissa called in to ask us could we get Vera Twomey, famous for campaigning for her daughter Ava, on the show so she could give her a nice surprise. So we did. Then this happened. Awh! See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

How do you get your team to feel as passionately about your business as you do? So they become the front-line in spreading the word? Today on the Remarkable Project, I am honoured to bring you a conversation with the CEO of Pacific National - Paul Scurrah. Paul was the CEO of Virgin Australia when the pandemic hit and before that was CEO at Queensland Rail and also had Non-executive Director roles at the Queensland Suns, AWH and Australia Post.Paul Scurrah is the Managing Director and Chief Executive Officer of Pacific National, a role he was appointed to earlier this year. As Australia's largest private rail freight company, Pacific National are integral in keeping Australia's economy moving, and have been supporting the country's supply chain since 1855. In this episode of The Remarkable Project Paul talks about why acting authentically in line with your values, and communicating on a personal, human level, are both key to mobilising people towards positive sentiment and a shared purpose.  He also shines a light on why the way an organisation deals with complications or crises can be even more important than how it behaves when all is well and good.Takeaway points: When people feel heard, appreciated, rewarded and secure, they are able to grow. As a leader, be generous with time, be respectful on a human level and offer support on an individual basis, not just a group one. By communicating with people with transparency, timeliness and real leadership, a sense of trust can bring calmness and consideration to even the most critical of situations. Uncertainty is a massive anxiety driver, and it's well known that an uninformed wait feels longer than an informed one, even if you don't have much to share. As a leader you have to be the living, breathing embodiment of your purpose and intent, so that your people can believe in it, and you. The closer you can be to the frontline of people delivering the customer experience, to hear them, to empower them, the more likely you are to make decisions that will be embraced by those staff and customers themselves. Effectively articulating value, and personalising it at every turn, means a race to the bottom in terms of cost doesn't have to be inevitable. There are intangible elements that people are willing to pay more for, including human touch, quality of service, consistency and “feel-good” factor. The optimum way to build deep trust is how you respond to problems or issues and make them ‘right'. Because customers are more engaged with you through that process than when everything goes to plan, there is a real chance to show them that you have their back. Remarkable Quotes: [05:09] “…the way I like to run companies is to be very clear about the culture statement, about the direction, the vision, the purpose, the priorities and the values and behaviours, and they should be designed to work in the best of times and the worst of times.”  [06:15] “…I want to be the boss that I wish I had…would I work for me?”  [15:10] “…people don't care how much you know until they know how much you care.” Resources MentionedThe Experience Economy by B. Joseph Pine II and James H. Gilmore [1999] More Information Here >>  Get connected with Paul: Learn more about Paul and connect with him via LinkedInTake a closer look at Pacific National here

Awh, we must count our Blessings and acknowledge our Troubles. This episode is also available as a blog post: https://patriceclarkson.wordpress.com/2021/10/14/blessings-with-troubles/

If you were to start over today on your entrepreneurial journey, would you know what to do? Would you know how to sell? What advice would you listen to, and what would you avoid? Ryan Frederick joins the podcast as the founder of AWH and the author of "Sell Naked: And Other Advice for Growing and Managing Services Firms" as well as "The Founder's Manual: A Guidebook for Becoming a Successful Entrepreneur".  We talk all things true about the entrepreneurial journey, including what you can expect, how to stay motivated, and most importantly, how to grow a business that's still flourishing a decade later.  Want to know? Check out AWH.net.  Order "The Founder's Manual: A Guidebook for Becoming a Successful Entrepreneur": https://www.amazon.com/Founders-Manual-Guidebook-Successful-Entrepreneur/dp/1941688683 Order "Sell Naked: And Other Advice for Growing and Managing Services Firms": https://www.amazon.com/Sell-Naked-Growing-Managing-Services/dp/1941688705 Enjoy this episode? Check out our Patreon where you can support the podcast via Patreon.com/GoodAdvice.

Joining us today is Abner Kurtin who is CEO, Chairman and Co-Founder of Ascend Wellness Holdings (AWH). Abner's background is as an investor – starting at the highly regarded Baupost and moving on to starting his own hedge fund. He raised $50M to invest in the cannabis space before switching gears and Co-Founding Ascend in 2018. In only 3 years Ascend has become a top player in IL with an eye to repeating the model in NY, NJ and Mass (the company is also in MI and OH). In this episode we discuss: - Abner's Investment Background: What he learned working at Baupost - Raising $50M to Invest in Cannabis: The 3 Key Factors Abner looked for in each deal - Why Investing in MSOs like Grassroots, GTI, Pharmacann made sense - Starting Ascend – Being opportunistic in MA and IL - How AWH became a top player in IL alongside GTI, Cresco & Verano - The importance of being scaled and vertical in every market - NJ: How AWH got started and why NJ will be the story of 2022 - What to look forward to in NY and how the state is progressing - Is slow uplisting a risk or opportunity to the cannabis space? - Why is capital allocation so important in this industry? - The Future of Ascend: Acquiring, Merging or Selling the company Thank you to Abner for joining us for this jam-packed interview You can find more information on AWH including past earnings calls at: https://awholdings.com/investors/

Ten years ago, Ryan Frederick, became a partner at AWH, a now 26-year-old firm that builds net new software products, solves data problems, and integrates systems across platforms and products (phones, the web, Internet of Things [IoT] devices).  The client mix is split in thirds: Funded startups building disruptive products to capitalize on unique opportunities Midmarket companies (manufacturers, distributors, or nonprofits/social enterprises) who don't have much technological knowledge or “horsepower” and a one-time or only sporadic need to build a “digital fix.” Enterprise clients that need prototypes and proofs of concept for corporate innovation initiatives (e.g.; leveraging blockchain technologies, integrating machine learning, and utilizing artificial intelligence). These companies have the resources to build the needed system but need guidance on how to approach a problem and what needs to be done. To ensure the best outcomes, AWH consults with clients and establishes advisory boards to iteratively build products that resonate with customers and provide value. Ryan started out his career as a software developer but migrated to the “business, human, and creative side of things” – because he was interested in utilizing a more complete mix of skills. In this interview, he talks about how developers have been maligned in the past for not caring about the quality of the code they wrote. He admits that a lot of bad software was written when developers were a “background assembly unit” and the practice was to “slide the requirements under the door” and direct developers to build what they were told to build.  Ryan says today's developers, designers, and QA professionals demand interesting, challenging, impactful work and need to be involved from the beginning – in defining the problem and in the planning, design, and user experience processes. Losing team members mid-project destroys process, teamwork, and collaborative continuity and chokes progress as “replacements” need “ramping up.” AWH's focus, particularly in the last 5 years, has been on creating an environment where team members feel valued for their work – in order to “get and keep the most talented, capable team” possible.  AWH often works with funded startups that often come up financially short at times where continued development is critical. To address this problem, AWH formalized an internal financing mechanism where AWH lends monies to cover continued development work in exchange for client royalties or equity. Ryan says AWH has done this 20- or 30- times, not so much by choice as by necessity. A few “loans” have “gone south” – but the company, to date, has accrued royalties or client equity of almost $2 million.  Ryan authored The Founder's Manual, an experiential exposé of things Ryan has seen work . . . and not work . . . in the development world. His second book, Sell Naked, covers his experience over the past 10 years of owning and leading a professional services firm. Ryan says a lot of service firm representatives sell “propaganda, paraphernalia, and crutches” and 999-slide capabilities decks rather than starting with an open, authentic conversation about client needs. He says, “No prospective client cares about how awesome you are until they believe that you understand their problem and that you can . . . help them alleviate the pain of the problem. He also explains the informal proposal email process his company uses to quickly and effectively close contracts. Ryan can be reached on his company's website at: AWH.net. Transcript Follows: ROB: Welcome to the Marketing Agency Leadership Podcast. I'm your host, Rob Kischuk, and I am joined today by Ryan Frederick, who is a Principal at AWH based in Dublin, Ohio. Welcome to the podcast, Ryan. RYAN: Thanks for having me. Appreciate it. ROB: Wonderful to have you here. If we're looking up AWH and what you focus on, it says “building great digital products.” But why don't you give us the big picture of AWH and what that specialty really means when you talk about building a firm around that?  RYAN: Essentially, we do one thing, and that is build net new software products for clients across the spectrum of startups to midmarket to enterprises. Around the building of net new software products, we also do a fair amount of data work, solving data problems, data plumbing to support those products, integration work – because rarely do software products now exist on their own without talking to other products and other systems – and then we do a fair amount of product consulting as part of it, too. We help clients establish customer advisory boards, for example, to be able to work iteratively in building a product to ensure that it resonates with customers and they find value from what's getting built. So some wrappers around that core of building software products, but at the core, we build net new software products that run on phones and the web and IoT devices and various places for lots of different purposes and to solve lots of different problems. That's our day job and how we butter our bread, so to speak.  ROB: Got it. Is there a typical sort of firm, a sort of client that's looking to engage you? Are we talking about seed stage funded companies, are we talking about enterprise, are we talking about all of the above and then some? RYAN: Our business is mixed in about thirds. About a third of our clients are funded startups trying to build a net new disruptive product in many cases, where they're going after a space and a problem or to capitalize on an opportunity that is fairly unique; otherwise they probably wouldn't be starting a company around it. About a third is midmarket clients. Those are manufacturing companies, distribution companies, and in some cases nonprofits or social enterprises that are trying to become more digitally capable. Often, they are digital laggers. They don't have the technology teams, if any technology teams, and they need things like customer portals built and they need design tools built and they need customer apps built, etc. So in the midmarket, it's really I would say them becoming digitally capable if not exceptional to fuel their growth. If they're a $50 million company, how are they going to get to be a $100 million company? If they're a $200 million company, how are they going to get to be a $500 million company? And that answer now is almost always digital and technological in some way. So that's where we typically play in midmarket space. Then with enterprises, most of our enterprise clients and engagements are around some sort of corporate innovation initiative, trying to figure out how they're going to leverage blockchain, what they're going to do with machine learning or artificial intelligence. Then we engage with them to build some prototypes and some concepts, and they'll then take it and run with it moving forward. We don't want to, in the enterprise space, do a lot of uninteresting work. We want to be able to stay true to our DNA and our desire to build interesting things, because frankly, that's how we keep really smart, talented people – because they want to build interesting things. So we tend to shy away from enterprise work that is just “upgrade something that's been running on a mainframe to something that's now modern.” We tend to stay away from that sort of stuff and focus more on the corporate innovation stuff inside of enterprises. ROB: Obviously, with a new company, I can certainly understand how they would look at what they need to do and say, “We don't know how to build technology. Let's call up Ryan and his team.” What do you think is the missing ingredient, perhaps – when you get to the mid-stage in an enterprise, I would imagine in a lot of these cases, you're talking about standing up a team of two, five, ten people to accomplish something that you would certainly imagine could be in the reach of such a company. What do you think it is that keeps them from sometimes even building that capability, or wanting to, when innovation is so important? RYAN: I think it's different between the midmarket and enterprise. In the midmarket space, clients will engage with us because they don't have much technological knowledge or horsepower. They also don't envision getting a substantial amount of it, either, because if you're a bolt manufacturer, there is a point where technology needs to serve you and you need to leverage it, but you also then don't need a team of 10 technologists running around that you're paying a ton of money to not do anything of consequence on a daily basis. Most of our midmarket clients build one software product that would be considered a custom software product. They build one of those in the entire history of their company. If you're a $50 million company and you need to build a customer app for ordering or what have you, it's probably the first time you've ever actually built your own software product, and you probably aren't going to have to do it again for a very long time because you're filling a gap that has now become so painful that you have to address it. But you're also probably not seeking to run around and build a bunch of new software products. That's the reason the midmarket clients often don't have their own teams and don't have a desire to implement and build out their own teams, because it's sort of a moment in time for a midmarket client. ROB: It's not as much of a sustained need, but it comes in bursts, and they need to know who they can trust to come back to it time after time, even.  RYAN: Yeah, absolutely. But they are moments in time where there's a problem that has to be addressed, and then once it's addressed, the pain has subsided for some period of time. Enterprises are a little bit different, and that's why we mostly focus on innovation work inside of enterprises. Most enterprises have IT, design, product capability, either internally or through staffed augmentation or contracting firms. They have more people and more resources than they know what to do with in most cases, frankly. That's why we don't really want to play in that area, because it's just not that interesting to us. But we will come in, and enterprises often use us as like a special projects firm, where they're trying to figure out, “We've got this problem; our existing team doesn't know how to address it. We need help figuring out how we approach this problem. What's the right technical solution? What's the right digital solution? What's going to add that value for the business, and what's going to align with our customers and our users?” We do a lot of enterprise work, frankly, where we're just helping them concept things from a design perspective and a problem statement perspective and to build out customer advisory boards. There's a lot of cases with enterprise clients where we don't write one line of code and we have no engineers from our team actually engage with enterprise clients. It's more about helping them figure out what the right thing to do and the right thing to build is in the right way than it is actually doing a lot of wrenching on the product behind the scenes, if that makes sense. ROB: For sure. Ryan, it looks to me like you just might've celebrated a 10th anniversary for the company. RYAN: I did, yeah. ROB: Which is pretty exciting. Congratulations. If we rewind 10 years, how did you end up in the direction that the firm is in now? What led you to start it in the first place? RYAN: The firm's actually been around for 26 years, and I joined 10 years ago as a partner. I was coming down off of something else, and I was looking for something to do, frankly. I reached out to my network and said, “Hey, I'm looking for something to do,” and my now-partner Chris said, “Why don't you just come here?” I said, “Oh, didn't know that was on the table.” We talked for a few weeks, discussed what that might look like, and then we came together around it. I think the biggest evolution for us as a firm has been that software and data continue to eat the world, but you have to pick and choose where you want to dig in and where you want to leverage your team's expertise and experience. For us, we could be doing lots of different things in and around technology and software products, and we've said we're going to focus on building net new products. That's surfaced well because we really want to make sure that we're adding value for our clients. We also want to make sure – and this is becoming increasingly more important – that we're adding value for our team. Our team could work anywhere besides our firm, because developers and designers and QA professionals, everybody in our team is desirous and a value to work at, I don't know, 100 million other places. So. for us, we have to be way more intentional about creating an environment that they feel valued in and that they can ply their craft in and that they can do exceptional work on behalf of our clients. That's been a significant evolution. The days when you could get a developer or designer and hang on to them forever just by virtue of staying in business and continuing to have a paycheck deposited into their account, those days are gone. If you're not doing interesting work that they find challenging but also impactful, you're probably going to have a turnstile of team members. As a services firm, a turnstile of team members is one of the worst things you can have happening and going on because you have no continuity of process, you have no continuity of teamwork and collaboration. Client projects get upended because somebody new has to come in and get ramped up, etc. So our focus, especially over the last five years, has really been on how we get and keep the most talented, capable team that we can. Everything else is a derivative of that. ROB: Any one of those sharp developers or designers can go out and get into a bidding war and they can pit Google against Amazon, and it can ring the cash register if that's their priority. So it certainly has to be something different. I am a bit curious; if I'm looking at your background a little bit, it looks like you come from, pre- and maybe even with AWH, more of a sales background. Is that fair? RYAN: Yeah, I started out as a developer and then realized I didn't want to write code every day. I then migrated over to the business side and then got fortunate and hooked up with a startup fairly early in my career. I was the third person into the company. Learned a lot about business and also how to build software products. It was a software company. We had some success with that. The company ultimately got sold, and then I started another company with the investors that were behind that one. We had that for a short period of time because we ended up getting an offer to buy that, so we sold that one. I enjoy the technology aspects of things, but for me personally, I enjoy the human side of it and the creative side of it more than the analytical bits and bytes side of it. So I migrated over to the business side because I wanted as much of each side of the brain as I could get on a daily basis because that was the most interesting to me. ROB: And that early background as a developer helps put everything in perspective. I was certainly wondering – I come from a software development background; I have a pretty good understanding of what it takes to motivate and retain software developers, and what you were expressing resonated with me and showed an empathy for that developer mindset. If you came from purely a sales background, I was going to ask how you came by that understanding, because it is deep, it is resonant with my own experience. Having your feet in the technology early on helps tie it all together. It's a really fascinating journey. RYAN: Yeah, absolutely. Developers are often maligned for not caring about what code they write and what the application is and what problem the application is solving, etc. That's true to some degree, but my experience is that most developers actually do care about what they're working on and why they're working on it and what the problem is and what the value of the software is going to be. I think coming from a developer background initially, I have a little bit of empathy for their perspective and their role. It's also been the case where in a lot of organizations, developers are treated as the assembly line in the background that “We're going to slide the requirements under the door, and you just write code against what we tell you to build.” That's how a lot of bad software products got built. And now we realize, if you're going to build great, successful products, developers need to be involved from the beginning. They need to have as much context as they can have. They need to be part of the planning process. They need to be part of the design, the user experience process. This is not you figure out what to build and then pass it off to the development for them to build it. We discovered that that really didn't work, even though that's what we kind of wanted to have happen. So development, even as a craft, has evolved too. It's certainly less cookie cutter, and it's become valued to the level that it always should've been valued and not some smarter people than developers figuring out what would need to get built. Developers are now at the table, working with the other members of a product team to figure out what should get built. ROB: I'm interested; you mentioned that a significant portion of your business is in early stage. I note that you also invest in companies at times. I think a thing a lot of services firms face when they're dealing with early stage is they get asked to invest some portion of their fees into their clients' companies, essentially. As someone who invests and has a services firm serving these companies, how do you think about those tricky conversations? They're challenging, I think, from a valuing the client well perspective, from what you communicate, how it's perceived, all that. RYAN: Absolutely. They're tricky conversations. My base position is a services firm should never discount services and should never trade services for equity unless there are special circumstances and there's awareness of the client and what they're trying to accomplish and there's good reason to do so. With that said, we got into a situation – we have formalized our work then and now because I didn't want to do it haphazardly. To your point, if you're going to have clients that are early stage companies as part of your client mix, the question around services for discounts, services for equity, services for delayed payment, etc., it's going to be a real and present thing that you're not going to be able to avoid. We got to the point with a client a few years ago – probably five years ago, maybe six now. They were a funded startup, but they were in between funding rounds, and we were working on their product, and still are their outsourced product team. They said, “We're not going to be able to raise our next round if we don't continue to work on the product, i.e. if you guys don't continue working on the product.” So we were at a crossroads. We said, well, we can either stop working and they can go out and see if they can raise more money with the product where it is. If they can't, that means the whole thing comes to a screeching halt, so that's not a really good outcome for anybody. Or we can continue to work and we can essentially finance the work until they raise their next round of funding and then we get paid back. We thought that was the better option, so we actually put a promissory note in place and we financed the work under the framework of this promissory note. It all worked out and it all played out as we hoped that it would. We've now done that probably 20 or 30 times over the last couple of years, where we've actually put a financing mechanism in place with some clients. I would rather have not done it, but I'm glad that we formalized it and we didn't treat it haphazardly, because you're talking about real money. Services firms are cash flow monsters. You pay your team to show up today, to ply their craft, to do their work, and then you collect from clients at some point in the future. By the very definition of that, every services firm is a bank. If you then pile on top of that some clients need extended terms and relationships, like we're talking about, you'd better at least treat that dynamic and those monies and that relationship as formally as you absolutely can so that everybody knows what's at stake, what's happening, who's committed to what, who's on the hook for what, etc. We now have this little financing arm inside of the firm that we've now financed and in other ways taken royalties or actually taken equity in some clients, up to at this point almost $2 million. I would rather have not done it, frankly. But we didn't really have a choice with one client, and then over time, we've now had a couple dozen clients that have gotten into a similar situation. And knock on wood, most of them have gone well and progressed well and the deals have made sense. We've had a couple that have gone south, but from a percentage perspective, it's mostly gone okay. But it was really out of necessity less than it was out of “Yeah, we're stoked to do this.” ROB: Yeah, it's challenging. It sounds like you're looking at a way to be a good partner to a company that trusts you to be a good partner in other ways. But that's a two-way street, and that's not to be trifled with either. You've been sharing all along some good lessons, but I think it would be remiss not to mention that some of these lessons, you have written down and put into book form. What led you into the path of writing and publishing? Tell us about what you've been sharing lately, book-side. I see a 2021 date on one of your books on Amazon, even. RYAN: Yeah. I was just writing notes and thoughts down, and I got to the point where there was enough of it where it seemed to be the construct for a book. That was the first book, The Founder's Manual, about providing some experiential exposure to things that I had seen work and not work. I said, “All right, there's no point in jotting these notes down over time if you're not going to do something about it.” So I then reached out to a publisher who had worked with somebody that I know, and I said, “Hey, I want to do this book.” They said, “Okay, we'll do it with you.” The first book is not a super long book. It's been relatively well-received. My publisher would like me to get better at selling books now than just writing books, so that's always an interesting conversation with them. [laughs] The second book was really the same thing. After I finished the first book, I started writing down notes about my experience as part of AWH the last 10 years. This was my first time owning and leading a professional services firm, so I learned a lot over the last 10 years. I saw some things work well that we tried, and I saw some things that were just abject failures that we tried. I've gotten to know people that also run and lead other professional services firms, and professional services firms are a tricky beast to make work. There's virtually no scalability. Your people are your product. You're selling time. To forecast where the business is going beyond like three months is almost nonexistent. And most services firms, because of a lot of the things I've just mentioned and more, have a really hard time growing and becoming what they want to become. One of the epiphanies that hit me was, it is really easy to start a services firm. All you have to do is say, “I've got a craft. I've got something that I can help people and companies with,” and you put up a site and boom, you're “in business,” so to speak. But the challenge is not starting a services firm; the challenge is, how do you grow a services firm? That's a very different animal than starting one. Super easy to start, very difficult to grow. ROB: I may have to pick up that. I can get the Kindle version. I have some credits I can use on the Kindle version of Sell Naked, and I might have to go grab this myself. What's maybe one of the key principles you'd pull out of that book as a teaser for folks who might be thinking about picking it up? RYAN: There's a couple that I would say. We titled it Sell Naked for a reason, because that's one of the chapters in the book, and the publisher felt like that was the lead chapter. The theory there is I see a lot of business development people for services firms, either leaders of or business development representatives at services firms, who sell with lots of propaganda, paraphernalia, and crutches. They've got these capabilities decks that are like 999 slides. They have these elaborate portfolios, etc. And in some services firms, I get it. Those make sense. But I think by and large, for a lot of services firms if not most, those things are just crutches because what those do is force people to focus on the tools and the propaganda and the paraphernalia rather than going in with a prospective client and sitting down and having a very open, authentic, transparent conversation about “What are you trying to accomplish? Are we a fit in any way to help you accomplish that? And if we are, now let's start peeling back the layers.” But if you go in with a capabilities deck and propaganda and all this other stuff, you're delaying getting to the crux of the matter while you pontificate about how awesome you are, and no prospective client cares about how awesome you are until they believe that you understand their problem and that you can share some insights and some value that might help them alleviate the pain of the problem. So I think people get selling services mostly wrong, I guess is the sum of that. ROB: That sounds very aligned. I can certainly understand especially how a peacocky sales culture and teams of very capable developers and designers – that's probably more oil and water than most organizations. But I think most people, outside of a very slick sales organization, appreciate that genuineness, that straightforwardness, building the connection and trust, more than building a shiny deck. RYAN: Yeah. I think the other thing we have figured out and that we do is we also don't do elaborate proposals. When a potential client says, “Yeah, we're interested in engaging with you,” then we send them – truly, and in the book I actually put some of the copy that we use, and the format – we send the client a bulleted list of the essential terms of engaging together. I call that estimating informally or proposing informally. The last sentence in that bulleted email is essentially, “If you're comfortable moving forward, let us know, and we will take this and wrap it in an SOW.” The reason we do the informal emails to engage is because there's no point in spending hours and hours and hours on an elaborate proposal when the prospective client is only interested in really two things at that point: how long and how much? If you've built enough value and enough credibility to that point, you don't need an elaborate, flowery proposal reiterating how special of a snowflake you are. Just get to the point and then engage formally by sending them an agreement to actually engage. Because if a prospective client responds to that informal proposal email saying, “I think we're good to move forward,” guess what? You just got a verbal that the deal is closed. But if you send a big, elaborate proposal asking people, “What do you think? Are we in alignment?” and all of these things, you're still trying to build value when that ship already sailed. Does that make sense? ROB: Oh yeah. They don't even know what they're saying yes to in a giant contract. They might float it over to procurement before they say yes to a dang thing in the enterprise context. There's a lot of hazards that just keeping it human – that makes complete sense to me. Ryan, when people want to connect with you and AWH, where should they go to find you and see more? RYAN: AWH.net is the easiest place because they can get to me from there and of course get to the rest of our team and the great work that our team does. That's probably the best place, and then jump off from there. ROB: Sounds perfect. Ryan, thank you so much. Congratulations to you and the team and what you're building together. We will look for more excellent digital products coming from you and the team for your clients down the line. RYAN: Thanks, man. Appreciate it. ROB: Be well. Thank you. Bye. Thank you for listening. The Marketing Agency Leadership Podcast is presented by Converge. Converge helps digital marketing agencies and brands automate their reporting so they can be more profitable, accurate, and responsive. To learn more about how Converge can automate your marketing reporting, email info@convergehq.com, or visit us on the web at convergehq.com.

In episode 45,  Chris Slee - Principal AWH and CTO Include Health Inc. tells us how IoT is being used for fitness

Data is often something that is overlooked. The value of data as a product is highly valuable for companies, however. Unfortunately, while companies have started to learn and appreciate the value and investment in data, a lot of companies probably don't spend time thinking about how data can make their teams better.On this episode of Diving Into Data, Host TC Riley talked with Ryan Frederick, Principal at AWH, about data as a product, Frederick's career, and the value of data to improve the bottom line.Frederick has experience in starting and growing numerous software companies. He specializes in product building and is an analytics problem solver. At his first job at a small business, before the word startup entered the lexicon, he identified a problem that led to the birth of another company. This led him down the path to starting multiple companies. One thing he's learned all these years is that things will go right and go wrong.“It's just the way it goes. You can do a lot of things right and still have it not go well,” Frederick said. “You can also do a lot of things wrong and have it go well. It is not for the faint of heart.”Frederick has a lot of experience in startups and, in particular, data companies. An excellent place to start is that some companies aren't thought of as data companies, such as Facebook and Uber. Instead, consumers are using their software to interface with the data.“You can sort of go industry by industry by industry, and the biggest players from a software product perspective in those industries are really data companies because software is plumbing for data,” Frederick said.

Awh we are back together!! This is part one of our ghosting episode. We spent a little too much time catching up and filling you all in since our single episodes. Tay updates us on her sexual health and tells us to only get medical readings from a doctor. Mak is back in the Austin dating scene. And has some tips for a good situationship. Lex shares about an upcoming interview and about ex-boyfriend drama. We also talk about the Pink Pussy Pill. This week is a fun catch-up, so tune in! IG: @bitchesintheparkk

Watch this Episode on YouTube: https://youtu.be/XsLk6pgDr8Q * Get the Data Leadership Book – https://dataleadershipbook.com * Data Leadership Lessons on YouTube – https://www.youtube.com/c/DataLeadershipLessons* Save 20% on your first order at the DATAVERSITY Training Center with promo code “AlgminDL” – https://training.dataversity.net/?utm_source=algmindl_res * Guest and Sponsorship Inquiries – podcast@algmin.com In our first episode of 2021, we welcome Ryan Frederick. Ryan is a Founder and product person at heart. Ryan has had the privilege of being part of starting and growing several software and service companies. He has helped companies grow from inception, to viability, through to sustainability. During the evolution of these companies, Ryan has served on company boards and been instrumental in capitalization activities. He has also helped companies to expand to international markets. Ryan combines a unique blend of business acumen and technical knowledge having originally been a developer who migrated to the business side. He now helps companies build great software products and solve data challenges for competitive advantage as a Principal at the product and data consulting firm, AWH. Ryan is an active angel investor, mentors and advises entrepreneurs and startups, as well as corporate innovation leaders. He launched a non-profit workforce development program to train under-employed adults on digital skills called i.c.stars. In addition to authoring this book, Ryan speaks frequently about the product, Founder, and startup journeys. More about Ryan Frederick:– https://www.thefoundersmanual.com

This episode Sarah, of @sarah_louwho, joins Danyah on Create Good to share her story, as an entrepreneur, creator, influencer, and overall awesome human being. Sarah shares how one picture started her journey to becoming an Instagram beauty influencer, what it means to be in the beauty community in 2020, and that's just the beginning. I know you guys are going to love this episode! Sarah LouWho: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sarah_louwho/ Website: https://www.sarahlouwho.com/home NonProfit Spotlight in this episode: Hetrick-Martin Institute | www.hmi.org Hetrick-Martin creates this environment for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and questioning (LGBTQ) youth between the ages of 13 and 24 and their families. CreateGood Podcast: Instagram: @creategoodpodcast anchor.fm/creategoodpodcast Danyah Aossey: (Dan-ya Awh-see) Instagram: @danyah.aossey YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/danyahaossey Twitter: https://twitter.com/danyahaossey Please send all sponsorship inquiries to danyah@aosseydigitals.com Music from Music Bed This podcast is powered by Anchor.fm NOTE: This description contains affiliate links --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/support

This episode Josh Rodriguez joins Danyah on "CreateGood" to share his story, why he chose to build a brand around helping kids learn social skills, publishing his first book, and why Mr. Rogers is his inspiration. Josh Rodriguez: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thejoshspeaks/ YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCwX9Rh2T0LiDPqJNvLGpGlg Twitter: https://twitter.com/thejoshspeaks Find Josh's book here: https://amzn.to/2D8tARa NonProfit Spotlight in this episode: https://www.blackgirlscode.com/ CreateGood Podcast: Instagram: @creategoodpodcast anchor.fm/creategoodpodcast Danyah Aossey: (Dan-ya Awh-see) Instagram: @danyah.aossey YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/danyahaossey Twitter: https://twitter.com/danyahaossey Sponsors: Please send all sponsorship inquiries to danyah@aosseydigitals.com Music from Epidemic Sound This podcast is powered by Anchor.fm NOTE: This description contains affiliate links --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/support

This episode Jacob Kelly joins Danyah on "CreateGood" to share his story, how he made his passion for social media into a career-making content for a major sports team, how he manufactures boredom, and how he balances his career and growing his podcast. Jacob Kelly: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mysociallifepodcast/ Podcast: https://www.mysociallifepodcast.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/thejacobkelly CreateGood Podcast: Instagram: @creategoodpodcast anchor.fm/creategoodpodcast Danyah Aossey: (Dan-ya Awh-see) Instagram: @danyah.aossey YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/danyahaossey Twitter: https://twitter.com/danyahaossey Sponsors: Please send all sponsorship inquiries to danyah@socialaddict.media Music from Epidemic Sound This podcast is powered by Anchor.fm --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/support

DJShawna is the official DJ for the Milwaukee Bucks. She joins Danyah on "CreateGood" to share her story, how she went from being a former professional basketball player and is now disrupting the male-dominated industry of music and DJs, and the story behind her "Dare To Be" movement. DJShawna: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/djshawna/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/DJShawna CreateGood Podcast: Instagram: @creategoodpodcast anchor.fm/creategoodpodcast Danyah Aossey: (Dan-ya Awh-see) Instagram: @danyah.aossey YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/danyahaossey Twitter: https://twitter.com/danyahaossey Sponsors: Please send all sponsorship inquiries to danyah@socialaddict.media Music from Epidemic Sound This podcast is powered by Anchor.fm --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/support

Madison Russell is a style editor for the digital media publication, ONE37pm. She joins Danyah on "CreateGood" to share her story, how she went from a ballerina to a full-time writer, and her best advice for how to start in social media, writing, and branding today. Madison Russell: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/madisonrussellx/ Twitter: https://www.instagram.com/madisonrussellx/ CreateGood Podcast: Instagram: @creategoodpodcast anchor.fm/creategoodpodcast Danyah Aossey: (Dan-ya Awh-see) Instagram: @danyah.aossey YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/danyahaossey Twitter: https://twitter.com/danyahaossey Links also discussed: ONE37pm: http://bit.ly/2HFrG9P Sponsors: Please send all sponsorship inquiries to danyah@socialaddict.media Music from Epidemic Sound This podcast is powered by Anchor.fm --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/support

Alex Gasaway is a creative founder, YouTuber, and filmmaker. She joins Danyah on "Create Good" to share her story, how she uses her "Collab for a Cause" series to bring attention to a variety of social impact causes, as well as, how she's uniting brands, non-prof its, and creators like never before. Alex Gasaway: YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/AlexGasaway Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/alexgasaway/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/imalexgasaway Create Good Podcast: Instagram: @creategoodpodcast anchor.fm/creategoodpodcast Danyah Aossey: (Dan-ya Awh-see) Instagram: @danyah.aossey YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/danyahaossey Twitter: https://twitter.com/danyahaossey Links also discussed: 20 Million Trees video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPJKxAhLw5I TwinWives Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/twinwives/ Sponsors: Please send all sponsorship inquiries to danyah@socialaddict.media Music from Epidemic Sound This podcast is powered by Anchor.fm --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/creativejuicespod/support

IntroductionDavid Mitchell is the National Wool Manager for AWH. The company handels about 50% of the Australian Wool Clip that goes to auction. In this episode, David explains the journey that wool goes on once it leaves the farm and before it is exported. About David MitchellDavid Mitchell is relatively new to AWH Pty Ltd and has wealth of Wool Industry experience and knowledge. Originally a Wool Broker with Elders in the heady days of the '80's and 90's Australian Wool Industry. Subsequently the Marketing Manager with the former BWK (Bremen Woll Kämmerei Germany) Australian subsidiary, Geelong Wool Combing Ltd, where he was heavily involved in top making and wool combing through to it's closure in 2004. In more recent times David enjoyed downstream manufacturing and wholesaling success with Godfrey Hirst Australia, being responsible for and overseeing the Wool Carpet Division. Currently the National Wool Manager for AWH responsible for the receipt, preparation for sale by Auction, logistics and shipping for approx. 50% of the Australian Wool Clip that goes to Auction. David also sits on the FAWO (Federation of Australian Wool Organisations) Excecutive representing AWH.